Exit Lady Masham by Louis Auchincloss Read Free Book Online Page A

an occasional happy turn of phrase. "Where have you seen any samples of my poor efforts, Captain?"
    "I have the honor of Mr. Harley's friendship. He is your kinsman, I believe?"
    "He is good enough not to deny the bedchamberwoman."
    "He is proud enough to acknowledge the Queen's friend! Mr. Harley took the liberty of reading me a letter that you wrote him when the court was at Greenwich. It contained a charming description of the Lord Mayor's barge. Mr. Addison could scarcely have improved on it."
    I was charmed. I had been particularly proud of that letter. "I blush that Mr. Harley should have made so much of my humble prose. Are you a writer, Captain?"
    "I am writing a tragedy."
    "Indeed! Is it in couplets?"
    "I prefer not to be the prisoner of rhyme. My thoughts disdain fetters. But, of course, I use the heroic meter."
    I repressed a smile at the grandeur of his disdain. Mr. Dryden had not deemed rhyme so limiting. "May I ask the subject of your tragedy?"
    "I have taken it from the French master, Corneille. It is an adaptation of his tragedy
Pulcherie.
Do you recall the story? No? It is about a Byzantine empress, a virgin, who, having succeeded to the throne in early middle age upon the decease of her younger brother, is urged by her council to marry. Not wishing to share the imperium with any man, she rejects a young prince, whom she adores, for an aged general. Her condition is that the marriage shall not be consummated."
    There was a pause as I considered this bizarre plot. "But would that not defeat the purpose of the council? Did they not seek an heir to the throne?"
    "Apparently not. The council was less concerned with an heir than with having a man to guide the sovereign in affairs of state."
    "But why the condition, then? Would not even a nominal husband have had the same right to guide his spouse?"
    "I presume not, under Byzantine law. At any rate, Pulcherie feels that she will be stronger as a virgin monarch."
    "I see. It's most interesting. Do you believe it will be a subject of interest to a London audience?"
    "Not precisely. My tragedy would appeal to a more select group. Perhaps in a performance here. I see it as a delicate compliment to the Queen."
    I stared. "Surely you are not suggesting, sir, that Her Majesty's marriage contains a parallel?"
    Masham laughed loudly, even rather crudely. I was destined to become much acquainted with that laugh. "Hardly, after all those stillborn babes! I could be sent to the Tower for such a suggestion. No, I am reflecting on the fact that the Queen likes to preserve the rule entirely to herself, a resolution that the Prince honors and understands. We all know that Her Majesty welcomes comparisons to the great Elizabeth. It is only politically that I consider her a virgin queen."
    This, I was to discover, was typical of Masham. He was totally unable to conceive that other persons might view things differently from the way he did. Fortunately, he had so many little projects in his mind that they were rarely executed.
Pulcherie
never grew beyond a single act.
    "Do you contemplate a career as a man of letters?" I inquired politely.
    "Perhaps not quite a career. A gentleman couldn't very well do that, could he? But statesmen and diplomats today are inclined to the pen. A taste for letters has become very much the thing. Your cousin Mr. Harley collects rare books. Mr. Prior is accounted a first-class poet. Sir Thomas Hanmer is supposed to be editing Will Shakespeare. Mr. Addison and Mr. Steele are received in the greatest houses."
    "And Monsieur Racine gave up the stage to become King Louis's historiographer."
    "Precisely. You are well informed. Happily for Racine, he did not live to be obliged to record the recent victories of our Captain-General. But to return to a humbler scribe, would you condescend to read some pages from my tragedy and favor me with your words of wisdom?"
    "I should be only too pleased."
    And so our more intimate acquaintance began. We met daily now,