colleague without taking any mote drastic action against him.
'I watched you rehearsing just now,' said Ruff with concern. 'You stumbled over lines that you knew well a few days ago.'
'My mind becomes a blank.'
'Let me help.'
'You cannot, sir.'
'But I could teach you your part.'
'That is not the help I need.'
'Then what is, lad?'
Richard tried to tell him but the words would not come. He was evidently in some distress. Biting his lip, he turned on his heel and ran out of the room. Samuel Ruff was mystified. He took his problem to Nicholas who was poring over a sketch with one of the carpenters. Ruff spoke of his anxiety about the boy.
'Leave him be,' suggested Nicholas.
'What has happened to him? Why has he lost his way?'
'It is not his way that he has lost, Sam.'
'How so?'
'The lad is scared. He has lost his nerve.'
'With such an opportunity before him?'
'That is the cause of it all,' said Nicholas. 'The occasion is too much for him. Dick is still very young and raw. This will be his first leading role and he has to play it before the Queen of England and the whole Court. That is a lot to ask from such an inexperienced actor.'
'He is equal to it, Nick.'
'Let us hope so for all our sakes.'
'What can we do for him?' asked Ruff.
'Give him time,' advised Nicholas. 'He needs our care and understanding. I have spoken to Master Firethorn and told him not to browbeat the boy if he stumbles. That could be fatal.'
'How do you mean?'
'You have seen him, Sam. He is in a delicate state and can only take so much. If Dick Honeydew is pushed too far, he will crack.'
*
Queen Elizabeth was spending Christmas at Richmond that year. For some months now, she had been sad and withdrawn, shattered by the death in September of her old favourite, the Earl of Leicester, and shrinking from public appearances. Instead of rejoicing in the defeat of the Armada, she mourned the loss of a loved one.
The Queen chose the splendid Richmond Palace for the Christmas festivities and it was hoped that they would bring some cheer into a royal life which had narrowed considerably throughout the autumn. A full programme of music, dance and drama had been arranged for her. The Loyal Subject was the first play she would see and it was due to be given on the day after Christmas. Its theme had a particular relevance in Armada year.
The rehearsal period approached its climax. Place your head in the middle of the block, lad!'
'I am trying to, Master Firethom.'
'Hurry, you knave, or I will use the axe myself!'
Lawrence Firethorn was working on his own execution.
Nicholas Bracewell had devised the effect and he was there to supervise it. Edmund Hoode watched nervously from the corner of the room. He still had reservations about the whole thing.
The Loyal Subject opened with the trial scene in which the noble hero, Lorenzo, was condemned to death. Taken off to await his unjust fate, he delivered his long soliloquy in the prison cell. Gaolers then entered to prepare him for his final hour. Brave to the last, he was led out.
The block was brought on stage and the executioner stood beside it with his axe. When the condemned man reappeared, however, it was not Firethorn. A clever substitution had taken place. John Tallis, much shorter than the actor-manager, came in wearing an identical costume, except that his own head was below the neck of the doublet. A false head had been made, painted and covered with a wig. It bore a striking resemblance to Lorenzo.
When the head was on the block, it was chopped off. Remain quite still, you young rascal!
'Will it hurt, Master Firethorn?' whimpered Tall is.
'That depends what we decide to cut off!'
'Take care, sirs!' wailed the boy.
'Silence!'
'Have no fear, John,' said Nicholas, bending down to position the apprentice behind the block. 'You will not feel a thing.'
'But it is a real axe, Master Bracewell!'
'The weapon is in safe hands, I assure you.'
He turned to the sturdy actor who held the axe ready.
'I'll not hurt you, lad,' promised Ruff.
'But I will!' threatened Firethorn. 'If you dare to move.'
‘There is no danger,' continued Nicholas, trying to calm the boy. 'Sam has been practising with that axe for days. We chose him because he is so reliable. Stay exactly where you are, John, and it will be over in a matter of seconds.'
Nicholas stood back and gave the signal. Ruff raised the blade high in the air. When it swished down, it sliced clean through the wax neck and embedded itself in the block. The false head went rolling across the floor with stunning effect.
John Tallis howled from inside the doublet.
'Am I still alive?'
*
Christmas Day began early in London and all the bells of the city tolled out their message of joy. Margery Firethorn was up well before dawn to take charge of the multifarious chores that fell to her and still find time to accompany her family to church for matins. There was great excitement in the house at Shoreditch. Her children were up to savour the wonder of the special day, and they were soon joined by Martin Yeo, John Tallis and Stephen Judd.
Margery could not understand why Richard Honeydew was so tardy. It was his first Christmas with the company and she had done what she could to ensure that he would enjoy it. Troubled by his absence, she went off to find him herself.
'Dick! Wake up, boy! It's Christmas Day!'
Now that the beams in the attic had been replaced, Richard had moved back in there. She puffed up the stairs as fast as she could. Overflowing with seasonal benevolence, she cooed and called all the way to his door.
'Don't lie abed in there, Dick! It's Christmas! Come and see what we have for you! Get up!'
Margery knocked, entered and reacted with horror.
'Lord help us!' she exclaimed.
The bed was empty and the window was wide open.
*
Richmond Palace was a sumptuous Gothic residence that was well situated between Richmond Green and the River Thames. Its skyline of turrets and gilded weather-vanes gave it a romantic image, and it was flanked by gardens and orchards that were planted with hundreds of fruit trees. The palace covered some ten acres in all and had a regular layout round a series of spacious courtyards.
The birthplace of her father, it had not been one of Elizabeth's favourite homes in the early part of her reign. Now, however, she was coming to appreciate the singular charms of a place that she called her warm winterbox. Descending upon it with her household, the Queen filled it with light and noise and colour. She even began to look forward to the Christmas festivities.
Lawrence Firethorn did not share her anticipatory pleasure. Deserted by his female lead on the day before the performance, he rushed around in a frenzy to try to repair the damage. Martin Yeo was once again promoted to
