Master of the Revels Read online

  So then I text him, “What’s the rest of that verse, is it ‘fire burn and cauldron bubble’ [which is what Shakespeare actually wrote]? Or is it that other phrase that I inexplicably first wrote down—‘scorch their minds and raze the rubble’ [which is not what Shakespeare actually wrote]?”

  And he doesn’t answer! He just texts me the Stephen Colbert emoji (skeptical stare, one raised eyebrow) and then stops responding to my texts. I know another actor in that production, so I text him, and he responds: “Yeah, something happened, too freaked out to talk, ask again in a few days.”

  I put on my coat, grabbed my wallet, toothbrush, and some origami paper, and left a note for the roommates saying I was headed to Cambridge a few days early, and then I hoofed it down to SoHo and got the first BoltBus headed north. Obv not going to share any of this with Tristan—he will dismiss it as my tendency toward melodrama—but I desperately need my neural networks soothed by proximity to his unwaveringly arrow-straight normalcy.

  I’ve been scouring all my social media platforms (taking forever, crappy Wi-Fi on this bus), checking out private and company blogs for every theatre company, training program, etc., that I can find, as well as (when I can access them) stage managers’ reports, etc., and here’s my tally to date: between high schools, colleges, training programs, community theatres, and professional theatres of all sizes, there were 73 productions of Macbeth being performed somewhere in the United States that night. In five of them (including the two in NYC), something in the auditorium burst into flame while the witches were saying “Double, double, toil and trouble . . .”

  And if that isn’t fucking freaky enough, about half of the posts, blogs, etc., report not Shakespeare’s actual lines, but that same random phrase that I originally wrote in here: “Scorch their minds and raze the rubble.”

  What is that? Where did that phrase come from?? And why does it make things burst into flames?

  About to research worldwide productions.

  Not to be all Shakespearean about it, but “something wicked this way comes” is now an understatement.

  Post by Mortimer Shore on “Chira” GRIMNIR channel

  DAY 1991 (10 JANUARY, YEAR 6)

  Chira reports overhearing Gráinne talking to some HOSMAs in the cafeteria, and Gráinne seems enthused about a fourth-century Sicily DEDE that’s in the works. Because Chira is doing her supersecret Tuscany DEDE, Blevins is monitoring everything she does on the ODIN system, and she doesn’t want to draw attention by surfing the assignments channel for more info about fourth-century Sicily. And fourth-century Sicily isn’t on our short list, but it’s gotta mean something that Gráinne’s into it.

  * * *

  Post by Tristan Lyons on “Chira” GRIMNIR channel

  DAY 1992 (11 JANUARY, YEAR 6)

  Working on a way to get more intel on that Sicily DEDE but a little tricky given my short turnaround period between Strands. Will help if Rebecca takes the helm re: real estate details.

  More soon on Sicily.

  Lady Emilia Lanier’s Confession

  As examined by Fr Peter Burroughs in the presence of His Majesty James Rx

  2 APRIL 1606, TOWER OF LONDON

  This gentlewoman examinate confesses that she can do the most detestable Art of Witchcraft. She has confessed that she had entertained certain evil spirits and that the devil came in the shape of a little boy to make a covenant with her, who told her that she must kneel down upon her knees, and make a Circle on the ground, and pray unto Satan the chief of the Devils. He also ordered her to make a black mark with her finger in his book, sealing the covenant. Two Sprites did appear unto her within the said Circle, in the likeness of two black frogs, and there demanded of her what she would have, so that she would promise to give them her soul. Whereupon she did promise them her soul.

  And the devil then appeared to her anew and commanded her to call him by the name of Cheer; and when she wanted any thing, or would be revenged of any, call on Cheer, and he would be ready. Whereupon the devil departed and the examinate did come to her reason. She was then in such horror of conscience that she took a rope to hang herself and a razor to cut her throat by reason of her great sin of witchcraft, but determined instead to make a full confession. And thus she has done so without torture or other coercion, and having made a full confession, remands her soul to God and the well-being of our sovereign, JAMES, by the Grace of God, King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith. FINIS.

  PERSONAL LETTER FROM

  “repentant” witch Lady Emilia Lanier

  My humble duty remembered to my beloved sister,

  I bring you greetings from the court and wish that you may remember my great love and reverence to our father and mother. I write with strange tidings, which I have determined to share in print rather than scrying or dreams, that there may be a record of them in our family annals and that this news may be shared reliably. You will know with whom to share this.

  You may hear soon news from London that I have confessed to witchcraft and been exorcised, before being received back into the bosom of the Church and Their Majesties’ graces. The confession they extracted from me was so fearfully childish and absurd, I could barely repress my hilarity as I spoke the words I was commanded to. As you may know, Their Majesties live in terror for believing that magic (which they call witchcraft) is the same as treason. Their conviction being that all witches are intrinsically bent on Their Majesties’ deaths. Using magic (is that not ironic?), I have convinced them that I am an exception to this. Indeed, having been exorcised, repentant, and “cleansed,” I remain a treasured lady of Her Majesty Queen Anne’s bedchamber and wait upon her constantly! Subsequent to this recovery, my status is elevated, as I am now regarded as the city’s expert in the art of calling out witches and witchcraft. Whomever I might accuse will be as good as condemned, and whomever I choose to protect is certain to be safe from His Majesty’s examiners. Thus all witches are now protected from His Majesty’s crazed crusade—provided they do not cross me. Thus has my sway over all matters of interest to me, courtly or otherwise, been expanded far beyond what magic itself could ever accomplish!

  I confess astonishment that no other witches have thought to choose this path. The humiliation of “exorcism” is a trifling price to pay for such a position of influence. All that was required of me was to tell a silly story about talking frogs, and now I am secretly the most powerful woman in London after Her Majesty.

  Know that I shall wield this new power most subtly and infrequently, but for two ends. The first being the gaining of our family fortunes, of course; the second being protection of witches and magic in the general. If you hear aught else from London, dismiss it as foul rumours.

  Thus I commit you to the gods’ protection,

  Your devoted and loving sister, Emilia, Whitehall Palace, this 3rd day of April 1606

  LETTER FROM

  GRÁINNE to CARA SAMUELS

  (cont.)

  THE OFFICES OF the Revels be in the old priory of St John in Clerkenwell, just northwest of the old city walls. So back across the river it was, and back up along the lanes, the day fair and the breeze blowing not too foul a smell. Although none too nice neither, as I approached Smithfield Market, which was mightily odiferous, for wasn’t it market day!

  As I navigated the maze of dung-stained straw, rancid hay, and rivers of cow piss, I cast my mind back to the last few years of the reign of Queen Bess and of the most mirthful scandal that transpired betwixt William Shakespeare, playwright, and Edmund Tilney, Master of the Revels.

  Tilney and Shakespeare have the most peculiar of relationships. Almost self-contradictory, it is. ’Tis your man Tilney’s job, in part, to censor the playwrights of the age (although he prefers the word “reform”). But sure Edmund Tilney is also Shakespeare’s greatest promoter, for by choosing his plays so oft to be performed at court, he exalts Shakespeare above other playwrights, in exposure and royal patronage and money. ’Tis why, centuries hence
, nearly every feckin’ human on planet Earth knows the name of Shakespeare, but not the names of Fletcher or Middleton or Beaumont or other playwrights. Not even Ben Jonson enjoys Shakespeare’s reputation in the ages to come, despite being of equal fame while both draw breath!

  And fewer yet know the name of Edmund Tilney. The puppet masters be always in the shadows.

  By exalting Shakespeare, Tilney exalts Shakespeare’s company, the King’s Men, who perform at the Globe Theatre on the south bank of the Thames. Masses and masses of commoners and minor nobles pour across the river to the Globe’s round yard, the whole of its season from spring to leaf fall. They wish not only to be entertained but to see the very same entertainment that soon the monarch himself will watch. And ’tis once again Edmund Tilney makes this happen. For the which, the King’s Men pay him a tidy sum of one pound per month.

  Nor does it hurt Tilney’s pocket that for each individual play he approves, the company of actors must needs pay him seven shillings. For this licensing fee, Tilney’s stamp and signature are put upon the promptbook, or “playbook”—that being the original and only manuscript containing the entire play.

  Those stamped manuscripts are the most valuable thing a company owns (real estate excepted), aren’t they then? Is right they are. And kept safe and locked away and guarded by the company. For they contain not only the Master’s signature but all that his signature signifies: that the play is presentable at court; that only this one company has the right to present it; and that none in the company shall be condemned for whatever is presented in it. In a time when everyone does relentlessly steal everyone else’s stories and the most casual blasphemy can land you in the Tower—you’ll be wanting the protection of the Master of the Revels to guard both your purse and your neck. Tilney’s stamp, in other words, costs seven shillings out of pocket, but its value is beyond rubies.

  And here’s the other thing: ’tis the duty of the Master of the Revels to be producing entertainment for Their Majesties. Not merely to select it and then to “reform” it, but finally to make sure the chosen diversion appears in the court, at the proper time and place, with all the proper costumes, props, and nice effects.

  Now, a masque—with all its scenery and special effects and scores of costumed performers and music—is dear to produce and causes headache, whilst a play’s both cheap and easy to put on. Thus it is that Tilney prefers to offer plays whenever possible (although Queen Anne is powerful fond of the masques, they being a kind of bombastic, pontificating variety show). Back in the grandest day of Elizabeth’s court, didn’t Tilney whip the Revels Office into sound financial shape by encouraging Her Majesty to prefer Shakespeare over costly masques? Is right, he did.

  And thus are Shakespeare’s and Tilney’s interests intricately intertwined, and one would think them dearest friends.

  But then there was the Matter of the Sonnets!

  ’Twas some eight or nine years back now, and ’tisn’t thought of daily anymore. But when the drink flows at those taverns frequented by players and comedians, sure nobody forgets the Matter of the Sonnets.

  The Matter of the Sonnets

  * * *

  Handwritten on fine linen paper

  from Edmund Tilney to Lady Emilia Lanier

  1st of May 1598

  SONNET TO THE DARK-HAIRED LADY OF MY GOOD REGARD, BY E.T.

  Thou know’st I am commissioned e’er to love thee

  By that Diurnal Spirit in the sky

  Who guards thee and thy spirit from above thee

  And sends his firm commandments from on high.

  And likewise does the Deity Nocturnal

  Command me to serve ever thy dear self

  With an unstinting loyalty eternal,

  And I obey him as a troll obeys an elf.

  But truly I would love thee so regardless

  No matter what the gods commanded me.

  My love for thee is enduring and artless

  No matter that thou hast abandoned me.

  O! I will prove my mettle resolutely

  And waver not when loving thee astutely.

  —Thy eternal servant, E. Tilney

  Handwritten on fine linen paper

  from William Shakespeare to Lady Emilia Lanier

  1st of May 1598

  SONNET CXLIII, TO MY DARK LADY, BY W.S.

  Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch

  One of her feather’d creatures broke away,

  Sets down her babe, and makes all swift dispatch

  In pursuit of the thing she would have stay;

  Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,

  Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent

  To follow that which flies before her face,

  Not prizing her poor infant’s discontent;

  So runn’st thou after that which flies from thee,

  Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind;

  But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,

  And play the mother’s part, kiss me, be kind;

  So will I pray that thou mayst have thy ‘Will,’

  If thou turn back and my loud crying still.

  —W. Shakespeare

  Handwritten private letter on fine linen paper

  from Lady Emilia Lanier

  3rd of May 1598

  To my right worshipful admirer, after hearty commendations:

  Thy most recent sonnet has pleased me greatly and caused me to regret the disdain which I have of late publicly expressed towards thee. While I may not yet express my warm regards in society, please know I do hope the opportunity arises that I may openly accept and respond to thy fond remarks. Presume not, but despair not. Much may be possible in time.

  From thy own fond muse, thus indebted to you

  for the pains you take for me, Emilia

  Handwritten on fine linen paper

  from Edmund Tilney to Lady Emilia Lanier

  4th of May 1598

  TO THE BEAUTEOUS LADY OF MY EVEN-BETTER REGARD, BY E.T.

  That thou has hinted we might have a future

  Sends my heart a-dancing in the firmament,

  That my heart might be worthy of your stature

  Fills me with a giddiness most decadent.

  As you have required, I’ll patient be

  Until such time as fortune deems sufficient

  For us to rendezvous most guardedly;

  All hours from now till then shall feel deficient.

  I shall weather your most pretended disdain

  With knowledge that it only hides the truth

  Which is: our fate is old as Hindustan

  And you return my good regard, forsooth.

  Right glad am I that I’ve confessed my feeling,

  As your response sends me to joyful reeling.

  —With most exalted respect, delighting in your clear lights of favour, E. Tilney

  Handwritten private letter on fine linen paper

  from Lady Emilia Lanier to Edmund Tilney

  5th of May 1598

  Dear Monsieur Tilney:

  I fear grievous mischief has been done, and a letter I intended for another somehow made its way into your hands. My messenger has been whipped for carelessness. I entreat you, dispose of the letter from me that you have received in error. It does not reflect my intentions towards your person, and I beg you to cease your correspondence. You are a man of honour and have written and commented upon many worthy subjects, but you must disabuse yourself of the notion that you are a poet or a wooer, at least to me.

  In all chaste and affectionate friendship,

  I remain, yours as ever, Emilia Lanier

  LETTER FROM

  GRÁINNE to CARA SAMUELS

  (cont.)

  . . . AND THEN DIDN’T a minion of Tilney’s, one George Buck, publish the whole feckin’ thing! To the merciless amusement of the players, musicians, and courtiers all over London! I was newly come to town then, and ’twas all I heard about a full fortnight running.

  So
let nobody claim ’twas an easy engagement of mutual benefit between the two men. A fuck-lot of water flowing under that bridge, thank you very heartily. And yet for ten years, each has depended upon the other for professional success. All this I knew, as I approached the Office of the Revels.

  Far enough beyond the cattle market to be free of its stench sits the former priory of St John. ’Tis grander by far than anything around it. Large rough-hewn stones make up the outer walls, and there be stained glass windows all about. We’ve Henry VIII to thank for its desanctification, of course. I’ve heard Dick Burbage grouse about going there for years, so I’d already a sense of what to expect.

  Beyond the gate some ways, in several buildings, downstairs and upstairs both, are all Revels workshops. Where monks once prayed and ate and illustrated the gospels, now are sets and props and masks constructed and stored, one imaginary world replaced by another. Above, ’tis where Tilney’s senior staff lodge and live (Tilney lodges his own self in a mansion on the adjoining plot), but also upstairs is his receiving chamber, the office where he greets vendors and artisans and other suppliants. But the chamber that Burbage and the others must frequent regular-like is the great hall on the ground floor, and a gobsmacking bit of architecture ’tis. ’Tis here where Tilney meets the players, where they must rehearse the entire playscript in front of him, costumes and props and all. If he approves of it all, then right off they hand him money and he signs and stamps their promptbook.

  If he disapproves of anything, then the “reforming” begins. But he doesn’t disapprove of much, for wouldn’t that delay his getting his fee! Therefore, on the odd occasions when he demands changes, the players take it serious and allow that he has found something grievous wrong, and thus agree to his censorious “reforms.” A man of tremendous political and cultural weight is this Edmund Tilney. And busy as Sisyphus—with Queen Anne so fond of the masques, the workshops are forever buzzing with industry, and sure he’s the one must personally be seeing to it that every detail will please Her Majesty.