The Marlowe Papers Read Online Free Page B

though.’
                                                                 ‘I must have the horse.
    Tom, without the horse, I’m five foot five
and half the world looks down on me.’
                                                                         ‘I know.
    Create the show and men believe it’s true.
Dress rich, ride rich, be rich. When will it work
do you think?’
                           ‘Don’t doubt me, Tom. I’m come this far
    with nothing but belief. A cobbler’s son
who now is qualified a gentleman.’
     
    The corners of his mouth twitched like a fly
in a spider’s web that movement fast reveals.
     
    ‘Don’t toy with me, Tom.’
                                                 ‘Oh, we are serious.
    I’m glad you have the horse, still. As for money,
the horse might get you more of it.’
                                                                       ‘How’s that?’
    He leant in closer, made our wall-less room.
‘A Spanish invasion fleet is being prepared.’
My pulse leapt like a stag. ‘Twelve dozen ships
bearing three thousand guns. There will be peace
negotiations. But. We believe they’ll fail.’
     
    ‘The execution of the Queen of Scots –’
     
    ‘– has angered the Catholics greatly, yes, my friend.’
     
    He dropped his voice two registers, as Kate
yawed to the side to fill our cups with ale.
     
    ‘A horse eats up the distances,’ he smiled
until she passed, ‘between the enemy
and us. We need a network on the ground.’
Watson took two short sips beneath the froth
and smacked his lips.
                                         ‘Pack and be ready to go.
    You’ll not be called until the chain’s in place
through which to pass your information. But
be ready to serve your country.’
     
                                                               ‘Tamburlaine!’
    The room filled with his roar as Edward Alleyn
created a stage around him. ‘Is it done?
I thought I’d find you here. Where is my play?
Have you got time for drinking?’
                                                               ‘It’s my first!’
     
    ‘He’s lying, this is number three,’ Tom said,
and shook his hand.
                                     ‘You poets. Always thirsty.
    Can a humble actor join you?’
                                                         ‘Certainly!
    Where is this man, sir? Let us be introduced.’
Ned bellowed with laughter. ‘You are very rude!’
‘In the meanwhile,’ Watson said, ‘please be our guest.
Though our purse is empty, if you might chip in.’
     
    Tom had been writing plays for Ned for months,
though secretly, without his name to them.
‘If it’s not Latin, it’s not scholarly;
I cannot own the thing,’ he told me once.
     
    Ned’s quick riposte, ‘Both spent my money, then?’
was subtle as a knife in an oyster shell.
     
    ‘I may have information,’ Watson said.
‘Some advance notice. What will be on the minds
of summer’s audience. You could plan ahead.’
     
    Alleyn was interested. ‘Go on, then, speak.’
‘Better not speak,’ said Tom. ‘I’ll write it down.
Read it and cast it on the fire. And should
anyone ask how you’re so prescient,
say you consulted an astrologer.’
     
    Ned tapped his nose. ‘Come on, then.’ Watson tore
the corner off a playbill on the wall,
borrowed the quill the tapster kept for sums
and scratched some words for