The Vagabond Clown by Edward Marston Read Free Book Online Page A

went on, sitting up in bed.
‘A Trick To Catch A Chaste Lady
was not merely interrupted to provide cover for a sly murder. It was stopped with a purpose. Someone wanted to inflict harm on us as well as on Fortunatus Hope.’
    ‘How do you reach that conclusion?’
    ‘Look at the situation, Anne,’ he suggested. ‘Master Hope is singled out an enemy who means to kill him. Why choose to do the deed in broad daylight at the Queen’s Head? It would have been so much easier to dispatch him quietly in some dark alley or while he slept at night. Do you follow my reasoning?’
    ‘I think so.’
    ‘Why go to the trouble of setting up that array? Those lads who started it were no doubt paid well for their work. Why take on such an expense unless there was a double intent?’
    ‘To strike at Westfield’s Men as well.’
    ‘They struck with cruel accuracy,’ noted Nicholas. ‘Ourperformance was abandoned, our property damaged, our actors injured. Hundreds of spectators were demanding their money back. And to add to our woes, the landlord expelled us from his inn and vowed that we’d never play there again.’
    ‘He has done that before, Nick, on more than one occasion.’
    ‘My argument holds. Someone was definitely trying to wound us.’
    ‘A rival, perhaps?’
    ‘We shall never know until we find the motive behind Master Hope’s death.’
    ‘I thought that Lord Westfield offered to help you there.’
    ‘He did,’ said Nicholas. ‘He undertook to speak to someone who might give us more detail about the dead man. But all he learnt was that Fortunatus Hope had a wife and family in Oxford, whom he neglected shamefully in order to pursue his pleasures in London. Master Hope, it seems, was a pleasant individual, popular with friends and agreeable to strangers. Since he went out of his way to avoid an argument, it’s difficult to see how he could have upset someone enough to make them contemplate murder.’ Church bells nearby began to chime the hour. ‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘Six o’clock in the morning and all I can talk about is the stabbing of a playgoer. What kind of conversation is that with which to depart?’
    ‘You do not have to go just yet, Nick.’
    ‘I’ll not stay abed much longer.’
    ‘Long enough to answer me this,’ said Anne with a smile.‘Remind me of the play that was so brutally foreshortened. I have forgotten its title.’
    ‘A Trick To Catch A Chaste Lady.’
    ‘Do you know of such a trick?’
    Nicholas grinned. ‘Why? Is there a chaste lady at hand?’
    ‘That’s for you to find out.’
    ‘The play is a comedy.’
    ‘I’ll not object to laughter.’
    ‘What
will
you object to, Anne?’ he asked, taking her in his arms.
    ‘Only your departure.’
    And she kissed him on the lips as evidence of her sincerity.
     
    On previous occasions when they were about to quit the city, Westfield’s Men assembled as a rule at the Queen’s Head but that was an inappropriate meeting place this time. Evicted from their home in Gracechurch Street, they instead gathered across the river in Southwark, choosing the White Hart as their point of departure. Wives, children, friends, relatives, mistresses and, in some cases, even parents, came to send them off. Three wagons had been hired to transport the company and some, like Lawrence Firethorn, brought their own horses. The fine weather over the preceding week meant that they could expect hard, dry, rutted roads that would bruise a few buttocks as they rumbled along, but which was far preferable to being at the mercy of driving rain on muddy tracks. The omens were good.
    Having walked with Anne Hendrik the short distance from her house, Nicholas Bracewell was touched to see thatthe small crowd included some of the hired men who would not even be taking part in the tour yet who had come to wish their fellows well on the journey. It had been the book holder’s task to inform the actors of their fate and it was a sombre experience. Talented men had