Ruled Britannia

was supposed to be an inn in the Spanish town of Illescas, which lay about twenty miles south of Madrid. The one playing Liseo hesitated, bit his lip, and looked blank. Lope de Vega hissed his line at him: ' 'Qu lindas posadas! '

'What lovely inns,' the soldier-his real name was Pablo-repeated obediently. He might have been a slightly-a very slightly-animated wooden statue, painted to look lifelike but wooden nonetheless.

' Frescas! ' agreed the fellow playing his servant (his real name was Francisco). He knew he was supposed to say, 'Fresh air,' to suggest a hole in the imaginary roof, but sounded even deader doing it than Pablo did.

Before they could go on to complain about the likelihood of bedbugs and lice, Lope threw his hands in the air. 'Stop!' he shouted. 'God and all the saints, stop!'

'What's the matter, SeA±or Lieutenant?' the soldier playing Tura-n asked. 'I remembered my line, and Pablo here, he looked like he was going to remember his next one, too.'

'What's the matter? What's the matter?' Lope's volume rose with each repetition. 'I'll tell you what's the matter. What's the name of this play of mine?'

' La dama boba,' Francisco answered. 'That's what's the matter, sir?'

'God give me strength,' de Vega muttered. He turned back to the soldiers. 'That's right. The lady Finea is supposed to be a boob. You two aren't supposed to be boobs. So why are you acting like boobs? '

He started roaring again.

'We weren't,' Pablo said in injured tones. 'We were just giving our lines.'

'If you give them like that, who'd want to take them?' Lope demanded. 'You couldn't be any stiffer if you were embalmed. This is supposed to be a comedy, not a show of mourning for-' He started to say for King Philip, but broke off. The King of Spain wasn't dead yet. 'For Julius Caesar,' he finished.

'We're doing the best we can, sir,' Francisco said.

That might have been true. It probably was true. But it wasn't excuse enough, especially not in Lope's present excited condition. 'But you can't act!' he howled. 'You ought to go to a play here and see how these Englishmen do it. They're actors, by God, not-not-so many tailor's dummies!'

'Devil take these Englishmen,' Pablo said. 'We came up to this miserable country to make sure the buggers behave themselves, not to make fools of ourselves in stage plays. If you don't like how we do it, we quit!'

'That's right,' Francisco said.

'You can't do that!' Lope exclaimed. 'You're supposed to start performing in a week.'

'So what? I've had a bellyful, I have,' Pablo said. 'This isn't part of my duty. If you think the damned Englishmen make such good actors, SeA±or Lieutenant, get them to put on your play for you. Hasta la vista.' He stomped away. The soldier playing his servant followed, slamming the door behind them.

Lope swore. He sprang to his feet and kicked the bench on which he'd been sitting, which toppled the bench and almost ruined one of his toes. As he hopped around, still cursing, he wondered how in God's name he was going to put on La dama boba without two of his leading characters. If he could have got men from Shakespeare's acting company to recite Spanish verse, he would have done it. Except when they swore, Englishmen didn't want to learn Spanish.

Cautiously, he put weight on the foot he'd hurt. It wasn't too bad; he didn't think he'd broken anything.

'I'd like to break their thick, stupid heads,' he muttered. He was an officer. They were only soldiers. He could order them to perform. But he couldn't order them to be good, not and make it stick. For one thing, they weren't very good to begin with. For another, they were only too likely to be bad out of spite.

Had he been a common soldier ordered to do something he didn't really want to do, he would have tried his best to pour grit in the gears. Oh, he understood the impulse, all right.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers in delight. He hurried off to Captain Baltasar GuzmA?n's office.

Guzman was sanding something he'd just written to soak up the extra ink. ' Buenos dias, Lieutenant de Vega,' he said in some surprise. 'I didn't expect to see you this morning; I thought you'd be busy with your theatricals. Does this mean a brand new devotion to duty?'

'Your Excellency, I am always devoted to duty,' Lope said. It wasn't strictly true, but it sounded good.

He added, 'And the powers that be have been kind enough to encourage my plays. They say they keep the men happy by giving them a taste of what they might have at home.'

'Yes, so they say.' Captain Guzman seemed unconvinced. But he went on, 'Since they say so, I can hardly disagree. What do you require, then?'

'Your servant, Enrique,' Lope answered. Guzman blinked. Lope explained how he'd just lost two actors, finishing, 'God must have put the idea into my head, your Excellency. Enrique loves the theatre; he's bright; he would perform well-and, since he's a servant and not a soldier, he wouldn't get huffy, the way Pablo and Francisco did. If you can spare him long enough to let him learn Liseo's part, I'm sure he'd do you credit when he performs.'

One of Captain Guzman's expressive eyebrows rose. 'Did he bribe you to suggest this to me?'

'No, sir. He did not. I only wish I would have thought of using him sooner.'

'Very well, Senior Lieutenant. You may have him, and I will pray I ever get him back again,' GuzmA?n said. 'Now, whom did you have in mind for the other vacant part-Liseo's servant, is it not?'

'I was going to use my own man, Diego.'

Guzman's eyebrow rose again, this time to convey an altogether different expression. 'Are you sure?

Can you make him bestir himself?'

'If he doesn't do as I need, I can make his life a hell on earth, and I will,' Lope said. 'As a matter of fact, I rather look forward to getting some real work out of him. However much he tries to sleep through everything, he is my servant, after all. I may not own him so absolutely as I would a black from Guinea, but I'm entitled to more than he's ever given me.'

'You're certainly entitled to it. Whether you can get it may prove a different question. Still, that's your worry and none of mine.' GuzmA?n's chuckle sounded more as if he were laughing at Lope than with him. 'I wish you good fortune. I also tell you I think you will need more than I can wish you.'

'We'll see,' de Vega said, though he feared his superior was right. 'He's supposed to be blacking my boots right now. He hates that. Maybe he'd rather act than do something he hates.' He sighed. 'Of course, what he wants to do most of all is nothing.'

When he strode into his chamber in the Spanish barracks, Diego wasn't blacking his boots. That wasn't because he'd already finished the job, either; the boots stood by the side of the bed, scuffed and dirty.

And Diego lay in the bed, blissfully unconscious and snoring.

Lope shook him. His eyes flew open. 'Mother of God!' he exclaimed around a yawn. 'What's going on?' Then intelligence-or as much as he had-returned to his face. 'Oh. Buenos dias, seaor. I thought you were gone for the day.'

'So you could spend the rest of it asleep, eh?' de Vega said. 'No such luck. Congratulations, Diego.

You are about to become a star of the stage.'

'What? Me? An actor?' Diego shook his head. 'I'd rather die.' He made as if to disappear under the blankets.

The wheep! of Lope's blade sliding out of its scabbard arrested the motion before it was well begun.

'Believe me, you lazy good-for-nothing, that can be arranged,' he said. 'If you think I am joking, you are welcome to try me.'

He didn't know that he would run his servant through. But he didn't know that he wouldn't, either. Nor did Diego seem quite sure. Eyeing Lope with sleepy resentment, he said, 'What do you want. senor?' His gaze kept flicking nervously to the rapier.

'Get up. Get dressed. You will-by God, Diego, you will-learn the role of TurA-n. He's a servant and a bit of a sneak, so it ought to suit you well.'

Yawning again, Diego deigned to sit up. 'And if I don't?' he asked.

Lope kept the rapier's point just in front of his servant's nose, so that Diego's eyes crossed as he watched it. 'If you don't. ' Lope said. 'If you don't, the first thing that will happen is that you will be dismissed from my service.'