Act 1 — Scene VI.
Reading edition
Lacy:
At length Beauty’s piloted to the safety of the stage. And without straining extolment I proclaim that never did lady [bowing to the tallest] show more innocence of fear, more exornation of composure.
Miss Fitton:
Why should one fear an orange or an angry slut! Is this part of the stage? [Looking round.]
22Lacy:
The veritable and singular stage of the renowned Globe, where actors, playwrights, poets fleet the hours with rich discourse and jewelled melodies.
Miss Fitton:
And naughty stories, I’ll be sworn.
Southampton:
If you’ll unhood, ladies, we’ll present new courtiers to you, Princes of this realm. [The ladies hesitate.]
Miss Fitton:
[Stands out and swings back her hood.] That’s soon done! Ouf! [Lets her eyes range.]
Lady Jane Wroth:
’Tis easy for you, Mary, but I’m all in a twitter, and red like a cit’s wife.
Lady Rutland:
Mary’s right: if you’re going into the water you may as well jump in. [Throws back her hood.] But how they stare!
Lacy:
Pray, my lord, officiate.
23Southampton:
As Master o’ Ceremonies, then, I make it known to all that Lady Rutland and Lady Jane Wroth, and Mistress Mary Fitton, the youngest and bravest of the Queen’s maids of honour, are new come to the Globe. Ladies, this is Master Burbage, who counterfeits kings with such nobility, and lovers with such reverence, that ladies lend him their lips in either part. And this is gentle Shakespeare, the wittiest of poets, whose sugared verses make all in love with sweets. And this is Master Chettle, playwright and Prince of Laughter. Here, too, is grave young Selden, and Masters Fletcher, Dekker, Marston, the glories of our stage.
Lacy:
And now, gentlemen, with what most cunning art or inviolate mystery will you charm the visiting fair? Thrones, there, thrones, the ladies will sit.
Miss Fitton:
[As they sit down.] But where is Master Kempe, the clown? I want to see him dance. I swear when he takes the floor in the Coranto and mimics dignity, I could die of laughing. He 24did not come with us! Oh, what a lack: we might have seen him jig.
Lacy:
Shall we seduce your ears with vocal harmonies, fair lady, or chant in the round to lute or viol?
Southampton:
Will you, Shakespeare, sing first? [Shakespeare, as if speechless, with a gesture of the hand, draws back, still gazing at Miss Fitton. Southampton turns to Miss Fitton.] Shall it be a song of love or war?
Miss Fitton:
I prefer fighting or laughing to languishing.
Lady Jane Wroth:
[Affectedly] And I love—women were made for love.
Lady Rutland:
Any song for a single voice.
Marston:
[To Fletcher.] A song, Fletcher!
25Fletcher:
Most willingly; here’s a song: but young Hughes must sing it or Selden: my voice is rough.
[Young Hughes takes up the viol, and sings.]
Chettle:
[After the first verse.] And now, ladies, what will ye drink—canary or sack?
Lady Jane Wroth:
I’ll take Charnikoe, I think; the wine of Bourdeaux, you know: ’tis all the fashion now.
Miss Fitton:
I ought to have been born a man and not a girl, for I like sack, it’s strong and sweet!
[Lady Rutland waives off the wine.]
Chettle:
Oh, she’s a rare one; what say you, Will, riggish, eh?
Shakespeare:
[To Chettle.] Hush! Hush!
Miss Fitton:
[Calls Hughes to her.] Here, boy, Lady Jane says you’re pretty and your voice sweet. [Aside.] 26Prove to her that your lips are as soft as her cheek.
[Hughes kisses Lady Jane Wroth. All laugh.]
Lady Wroth:
[Affectedly.] No, no, I prithee! [She yields to the kiss, and then to Miss Fitton.] I don’t know, Mary, how you dare. At your age I’d have died of shame to speak of lips and cheeks to a man.
Miss Fitton:
But you’d have thought all the more, eh, Jane? And thoughts leap to act without the aid of speech. Have I touched you there? Ha! ha! [Hughes sings another verse.]
[Loud applause. Hughes comes across to Miss Fitton.]
Miss Fitton:
Be bold, boy; be bold always! If I had been a man I’d have kissed every woman that took my fancy, maid or matron. Even when they don’t love you, they’re proud of the tribute. [Hughes bends suddenly, and kisses her on the lips. Disengaging herself.] By my faith, an apt pupil. [Rising.] But I fear we must be going. 27[To Southampton and Lacy.] We’ll come again, my lords, if we may.
Burbage:
Won’t you look at the other rooms, ladies, before you go? You should see everything!
Miss Fitton:
[Looking at the others.] We shall be late, I fear; but a few minutes——[Ladies follow Burbage.]
Southampton:
Why so silent, Shakespeare? Why would you not sing? You seem lost.
Shakespeare:
Lost in finding Portia——
Southampton:
Portia? What do you mean? Do you come with us?
Shakespeare:
[Shakes his head.] No, No! I’ll wait here.
[Southampton and others exeunt after the ladies: Shakespeare alone.]
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