Tempus fugit! It doesn’t seem three months since the last Marlowe Month! Anyway, Kit is once again the main character in this chapter –
part of my fictional work in progress centred on the man who seems to have led
two lives, with his writing and secret spying activities. Here he is as
the dramatist enjoying an evening out with a friend.
The image accompanying this chapter is a drawing of London Bridge in the 1550s, by Antony van den Wyngaerde.
If you have missed earlier chapters and would be interested in reading them, here are the links:
The Photograph (mini biography), The New Playwright (Chapter 1), The Journey to Canterbury (Chapter 2), Back Home in Canterbury (Chapter 3), A Wet Monday (Chapter 4), A Double Surprise (Chapter 5), The Gifts (Chapter 6), One Day Leads to Another (Chapter 7), An Eventful Weekend (Chapter 8), A Tour of the Kent Countryside (Chapter 9), An Unexpected Disclosure (Chapter 10), An Overnight Stay in Rainham (Chapter 11), London Beckons (Chapter 12)
The Muses’ Darling
Chapter 13
The Mask
Kit’s appointment with Sir Francis Walsingham had gone well. The spymaster had made extensive enquiries into the Queen Revecu play and learned that it had been approved by Queen Elizabeth and Edmund Tylney for its 7th September debut at Rochester Castle. As Master of Revels, Edmund Tylney was in discussion with her regarding a second staging at Hampton Court Palace early the following year. The Queen loved the theatre but did not attend any public performances, only those she agreed to for the entertainment of herself and her entourage in the privacy of one of her homes. Edmund Tylney had studied the play in detail and could find no hint of an underlying plot which threatened the monarch’s life and concluded that despite its amateur approach he felt that the local population, who were not used to seeing well-acted dramas at the London Playhouses, would flock to a theatrical production written and performed by a small troupe of Rainham residents at Rochester Castle. Sir Francis had assured Edmund that dramatist and Latin expert Christopher Marlowe was working to improve the script and a copy of the updated version would be passed to him for approval or otherwise. This went down well with the Master of Revels who recalled going through Tamburlaine the Great with a fine-toothed comb and, being impressed by the mastery of the language and perfect iambic pentameter throughout, realised that Christopher Marlowe was about to change the way plays were written and performed.
Kit’s discussion with Sir Francis took less than 45 minutes and with well over an hour till he was due to meet Philip Henslowe and Edward Alley at the tavern near the Rose, he rode Tamburlaine across London Bridge and to the stables which, until a few days before, had been the horse’s home. Having paid two farthings to Robert Alderson, Kit assured him that he would be collecting Tamburlaine before 11 p.m. With fifteen minutes to spare, Kit made his way to the tavern, meeting Ned on the way who brought apologies from Philip Henslowe, owner of the Rose Playhouse, who couldn’t join them that evening. He had forgotten that his wife Agnes was making a special meal for them, to celebrate the date when they met but had suggested eating at the same venue the following Thursday.
Once the first drinks had been bought and the meals ordered, Kit and Ned found a secluded table, and though interrupted by the arrival of the very welcome plates of food, soon continued their conversation.
“By wearing a mask,” explained Ned. “Not a real one – an imaginary mask covering the whole body.”
“Yes, I realise it’s imaginary. When I wrote the character of Tamburlaine, I never envisaged the actor performing behind a mask, visible or invisible, so that’s an interesting aspect of your skill that I’ve just learned and if that is the secret behind your convincing portrayal, then it’s simple but very effective.”
Christopher Marlowe, new playwright, and Edward Alleyn, young actor, were discussing the intricacies of theatrical performance. The friends were keen to learn from each other to improve their respective crafts and both envisaged working together more, so impressed was each with the other’s dramatic talents.
“So basically, you hide the real you behind a mask of your own imagination, to take on the role you are playing?”
“That’s it, Kit – I’m not acting, I am the character I’m playing and because of the mask, the audience doesn’t see me, Edward Alleyn, they see Tamburlaine or whichever character I’m playing.”
“I never did excel at acting” mused Kit. “Usually got the back-of-the-stage bit parts at school, but writing a play, now that was a much more enriching experience. Perhaps if I had become the character I was portraying, it would have worked better.”
“Maybe,” replied Ned, “but it doesn’t apply to every part as not all roles are suited to all actors, no matter how talented they are. I would never take on a role I didn’t feel comfortable in, and I assume that at school you were allocated a part with no choice of your own.”
“More or less – I was never considered lead character material, though they were good enough to allow a couple of my short plays to be performed for the end of year entertainment, such as it was.”
“No wonder your writing is so good – you’ve had years of experience.”
“I suppose so, but writing has always come more easily to me than performing. So how do you gauge whether a part is right for you?”
“I get a feel from the first reading and if I’m not comfortable with the words, or the way the character is portrayed, I turn it down, softening the refusal by suggesting I play a more minor role which, between you and me, I reckon won’t damage my acting career too much. An actor in the wrong role can soon find himself with bad reviews and then be out of work.”
“Yes, I can see that,” said Kit as he finished the mug of ale and, indicating a refill for Ned, walked to the bar to order more refreshments to accompany their meal.
Returning with the drinks, Kit sat down and resumed the conversation.
“So it’s an immediate reaction to a first read-through?”
“Yes, either it’s for me or it isn’t and the decision, while not quite instant, has always been made before I’ve read the last scene.”
“Does the mask idea play any part in your decision?”
“It all goes hand in hand really – a sort of gut feeling that I think most actors go by. If the mask fits, wear it.”
“I can understand that as I get something of the same with ideas for plays or poems. I try them out with a few lines and if they seem to be going somewhere I continue, if not, I put the project aside for later…or never. However, Ned, getting back to your portrayals, how important is the costume?”
“Very important. It’s the mantle which supplies the initial illusion. When an actor first walks on to the stage, before he says a word, the costume is speaking for itself, proclaiming the arrival of the character to the audience.”
Kit nodded. He had watched all the rehearsals for both his dramas at The Rose and seen how Ned had slowly changed. He had started off as the actor reading the role but had transformed himself into Tamburlaine by the final dress rehearsal and then throughout all the public performances. Ned was six foot tall, towering over Kit, in fact most of the English population. He had an imposing presence on stage which made people focus on him, and this image was enhanced by the projection of his voice and mannerisms as he portrayed his character so convincingly. If Kit had been clairvoyant, he would have known that in future Edward Alleyn would be regarded as one the greatest actors of the Elizabethan era, alongside the very popular comedic genius Richard Tarlton, as well as John Bentley and the recently deceased William Knell, all later to be joined by Richard Burbage who made so many of Shakespeare’s lead characters famous.
Kit wanted Ned in his new play and was writing the main character for him, so turned the conversation back to the subject.
“So how do you feel about taking a lead role in a controversial play, Ned?”
“Well, I accepted Tamburlaine, didn’t I?”
“True – but were you persuaded by Philip Henslowe or the Admiral’s Men?”
“No, not persuaded. I was handed the script and asked if I wanted to play Tamburlaine himself. From the outset I felt I could transform myself into this Scythian shepherd-turned-emperor and the mask would stay in place.”
“So, how did you feel when you read Part 2?”
“Just as keen. Your writing is so graphic, Kit, and I could imagine the scenes and almost foretell the actions needed and felt that as I had already worn Tamburlaine’s skin, I could do it again for more performances. Anyway, what’s this about a controversial play – have you another in mind?”
“In mind, yes, but little more than that. I had high hopes of being able to write half of it while I was staying with my family in Canterbury but so much was going on that I only got the first act completed, even though I was there for a while, though I have been continuing with it since I got back.”
Kit deliberately omitted to mention that only 10 days of the time he was away from London were spent in Canterbury. He had no intention of revealing that during the other days he was engaged in activities associated with his other job – the secret one that he revealed to no one. However, as a government employee he was well paid for his troubles, and this supplemented his income so he could afford a few luxuries to make life more pleasant.
“Would you be prepared to let me read the draft so far? I knew after the first act of Tamburlaine the Great that I’d be happy playing the megalomaniac.”
Kit laughed. “Well put, Ned – he was definitely power-crazed, with a more ruthless streak than I could have imagined writing till I realised the character was complete, but I just hope none of the audience ever thought this behaviour was a reflection of your personality.”
” As I said, Kit, it’s the mask that’s all important – wear it and the audience believes they are seeing Tamburlaine himself, not Ned a man in a play nor the playwright behind it all.”
“Ok, but let me refine the first act and then I’ll hand over a copy for you to read. In fact, why not come round to my rooms and you can read it there and we can discuss it while it’s fresh in your mind. But promise me you will keep it in complete confidence, not even a hint to Philip at this stage”.
“My lips are already sealed, Kit, you can depend on that, but can you give me a hint as to the plot?”
“All I will say is that it has a moral as the play closes, so the preceding events are placed into acceptability for all, including royalty and churchmen – that is if the audience doesn’t don’t walk out first – but, if you take on the role, I shall be relying on you and the rest of the cast to keep their interest.”
“Quite a responsibility and maybe a bit dangerous”
“That probably describes it! Never let it be said that Christopher Marlowe was afraid to address controversial issues”.
“I won’t and for the record I am still interested in reading it. I shall give you my views then but won’t make any promises about accepting the role you have possibly ear-marked for me till you have finished writing it.”
“Or unless you think it is so awful you’d never want to take on the role”.
“Let’s take it a step at a time. When will it be ready for me to read?”
Give me a couple of weeks as I’m also working on another play, basically refining it for a friend in Kent who has embarked on his first drama.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It is but it does need some work on it.”
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes both thinking over their conversation, then Kit asked,
How did your meeting with that new playwright go?
Fine, I’d already met him as he is part of the Lord Chamberlain’s Troupe. I recently made a couple of visits to the Theatre and James Burbage introduced us and we got talking. He’s from Warwickshire and joined them when they were touring last year. He has taken on small acting roles in their plays, but his main love is writing and he now wants to be a playwright like you.”
“Praise indeed.”
“Yes, he was amazed at the depth of the character you had created in Tamburlaine and the skill you brought to the lines with your perfect iambic pentameter.”
“University man, I take it?”
“No, he was denied that as his father went bankrupt, so he had to leave school at 14 to help out in the family glove-making business.”
“What’s his name, Ned?”
“William Shakespeare”
“Never heard of him”.
“I’ll introduce you soon, Kit.”
“Fine, but don’t bring him along when you come to read my new play. I don’t want some upstart stealing my new drama before it’s written.”
“Would I do that?”
“No, sorry. I know that really, but I don’t want anything to jeopardise my writing career.”
Ned nodded in agreement.
Kit looked round and, changing the subject completely, remarked how he loved the long, light evenings. Ned agreed, then asked Kit if he’d like another drink. Kit declined, adding that it was time he left to collect his horse. This sparked another topic of conversation which Kit cut short by explaining that he had to be at the stables before they closed at 11p.m.
“So let’s go now, Ned, before I get too comfortable and drop off to sleep here.”
“Good idea – the night air will help to wake us both up.”
They walked along the side of the Thames before going their separate ways, with Kit promising to call into The Rose during rehearsals within the next fortnight to let Ned know when the first act of his new play was ready for its secret inspection. He also agreed to meeting Will Shakespeare, perhaps the following Thursday when Philip would be joining them. Having interviewed this would-be dramatist, the Rose owner had shown some interest in his ideas but was not as enthusiastic as he had been when Kit had outlined Tamburlaine the Great to him. So, on that fine, warm evening Mr Shakespeare’s future remained open to speculation.
© Chasqui Penguin, 2024
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