The Bard and I A novel by Bronwen Welsh Copyright 2008 An orphan boy is rescued from poverty by England's greatest playwright and discovers the joy of playing women's parts on stage and off

Part Two

Continuing the memoirs of Julian Moss, boy player in the Lord Chamberlain's Men.

Following his success playing Juliet, Julian seeks more than Will Shakespeare's approval and a day of contrasting emotions follows with some long term consequences.

I had settled in well with the Lord Chamberlain’s Men. I missed my parents dreadfully and still occasionally cried myself to sleep at night, but the players had become like a second family, and Will especially became very close to me. I don’t know if it was because he was such a handsome man, or the kisses we shared while playing our roles of Romeo and Juliet, but I began to think that I was in love with him. I knew that he had a wife of course, but she spent most of her time in Stratford with their two daughters. I had heard tell that Will had had a son who had died some years back. Sometimes melancholy seemed to overtake him and I wondered if he was thinking of his son. Was that why he seemed so close to me as if I was a substitute for his dead son? But when he kissed me on the stage it was as if he believed me to be a young woman. It was too difficult for me to resolve.

One day, after the play’s season had finished, and Will was working on another play, he arrived unannounced at my lodgings and asked me to come for a ride in his carriage. I naturally asked what it was about, but he chose to be mysterious about it as he always loved surprises. We started off through the streets of London and I started to recognize the area around Silk Lane where I had lived. When we turned into the lane itself I was greatly alarmed and thought that perhaps he intended to return me to my uncle. He saw my growing terror and patted me gently on the knee, saying that there was nothing to fear.

We stopped outside what was now my uncle’s shop and I shivered with fear, but Will confidently strode into the shop and I walked nervously behind him. Inside stood my uncle and he was greatly changed, pale and seemed quite nervous. He greeted Will with a low bow and a nod to me.

“Nephew” he began nervously “I have greatly wronged you and I wish to make amends. Here are the deeds to your inheritance, and the money I have made. It is all there, not a penny missing.”

I stood there astonished as he went on “I, I must beg your forgiveness.”

Then he thrust some papers and a heavy bag at me which I took.

“Now with your permission I take my leave,” he concluded and bowing to Will again, hurriedly left the shop as I stood there struck dumb. I never saw him again. The bag contained a considerable amount of gold, more than I had seen in my whole life.

Will would never tell me what brought about my uncle’s change of heart. I scarcely think that he had troubled Her Majesty with the tale of how I was defrauded, but I knew that Will had patrons, powerful men, and I can only conclude that they had used their influence on my uncle. To cross such men would be very unwise. Whatever the reason was, my fortune was now restored.

“Oh Will!” I cried, throwing my arms around him and hugging him.

“So what will you do now Julian?” he asked “You are a rich young man. Will you leave the players and become a merchant?”

I gasped, for such a thought had not entered my head. “Do you not want me any more?” I cried, much alarmed.

“Of course I do,” he replied, laughing. “But a player’s life is uncertain and here is a steady fortune to be made.”

“Then I shall sell the shop and come with you.” I replied impetuously. Will with his older wiser head counseled me against it.

“Let us find a good man, an honest man, who will manage the business in your stead, and then, when, or if you wish to retire, you can return to it.”

Oh wise Will. That is what we did, and it worked out very well for me.

Such were my feelings for Will that I determined to show him my gratitude. I blush even now to think of the strategy I devised, but pray remember that I was very young, and as it is said, you cannot put an old head on young shoulders. Until now the women’s clothes I had worn belonged to the wardrobe of the players, but now I went out and bought some for myself. I was eyed a little curiously when I requested a woman’s gown, shift and petticoats but I explained that I was a boy player and required them for a role I was to play. I chose a pretty pale green gown with some white petticoats and a silken shift which felt delightful against my skin. White silk stockings and some green shoes with small heels completed my outfit, and a few mornings later I donned my purchases, combed my long hair and made up my face. I admired myself in my small glass and decided that Will would be entranced when I presented myself at his lodgings and surely seize the opportunity for a little diversion from writing his play.

I tripped happily through the streets, dodging the puddles from the previous night’s rain and pretending not to hear the ribald comments of the street vendors and men pushing barrows with goods. The sun shone and I felt excited and happy, thinking what fun it was to be seen as a girl. I was thinking all this as I arrived at the door of Will’s lodgings and knocked on the door. It was opened, not by Will but by a woman of around Will’s age or a little older, wearing a very plain blue gown. Thinking she was the maid I asked to speak to Master Will. She turned and called back into the house.

“Who is it Anne my love?” came Will’s voice as he appeared clutching some papers and wiping his brow with his kerchief.

‘Anne’! The name pierced me like an arrow. Anne his wife who never left Stratford, but here she was in very truth. Will paused surprised upon seeing me.

“Why Juli…um” he said. “What brings you here?”

My mind raced. I knew I was blushing and I searched desperately for an explanation. “Oh I was just passing, trying out my new costume and I thought I’d ask how the new play progresses?”

“It goes very well.” he replied taking his cue from me while Anne stood there and said nothing, but now she spoke.

“You must come in and take refreshment” she said.

“Thank you but no!” I replied, too quickly. “I have an appointment and thought just to ask of the play. I will leave you to your writing Will.” And with that I turned and walked away.

I made myself walk slowly while in sight of the house and with my back turned they could not have seen the tears of humiliation streaming down my cheeks. 'She knew, she must have known. What a fool I had been!'

When I turned the corner I started to run, heedlessly and headlong, blinded by my tears, desperate to get away. I ran and ran until, unable to see where I was going I ran full tilt into a tall man carrying boxes and we both crashed sprawling the ground. I heard his muttered oath as he scrambled to his feet and I sat there in the gutter, a picture of misery, expecting any second for blows to rain down upon me.

“Why whatever is the matter?” A sweet woman’s voice came from above me, and rubbing my eyes I gazed up into the face of one of the most beautiful ladies I have ever seen.

“Help her up please James,” she commanded, and the footman, for such he was, hauled me to my feet none too gently. I curtseyed deeply to the lady and then hurriedly addressed the man James.

“I am so sorry. It was totally my fault and I hope I did not injure you?”

His face softened as a man’s does when a pretty girl speaks to him. “No harm done miss,” he said “Unless to my lady’s purchases.”

“Nonsense James, they are fine.” said the lady.

Now I became aware of the mud soiling my pretty new gown and tears welled in my eyes again.

“Come and sit in my carriage and compose yourself,” said the lady, and James hurried to open the door for us. “I should introduce myself, I am Jane Mandeville”.

“And I am Julian Moss,” I said. “Boy player with the Lord Chamberlain’s Men.”

“Of course!” she said “I thought your face looked familiar. I saw Master Shakespeare’s play and you gave an excellent performance.”

I found myself blushing and smiling. Every player enjoys praise.

“Do you always wear women’s gowns when you are not on stage?” she enquired.

“Not all the time. I was getting used to a new costume.” I lied. “And then a man insulted me and I was running away when…well you saw what happened, and I am so sorry about your parcels. And now my new gown is muddied.” I felt the tears start to well again.

“My town house is not far away, and my maid is so clever at removing mud stains. Why don’t we go there and we can take coffee while she works her magic?” my new friend said. I was happy to accept her offer, and so we set off in her carriage, passing through streets lined with beautiful houses until we stopped outside one and alighted, assisted by James who still believed me to be a young woman.

Lady Mandeville, for such I realized she was, told me her husband preferred to remain at his country estates while she visited her friends in London. Her house was beautiful, tall and light and furnished in the most beautiful and tasteful way. She led me to a private sitting room, and a maid appeared who helped me off with my gown and petticoats, giving me a silk dressing gown to wear instead. Another maid soon arrived with cups of coffee and some sweetmeats. Lady Mandeville announced that she would pour the coffee herself and the maid left us alone, seated on a soft couch with rich brocade.

“I feel somewhat overdressed beside you,” she said. “Would you be so kind as to help me off with my gown?” This I hastened to do, admiring the rich brocade of her gown. Soon we were sitting side by side in our shifts, sipping coffee and chatting like old friends. Lady Mandeville soon told me to address her as Jane, and she was full of questions about the players’ life.

“I have heard tell that young boy players are much in demand by society, especially married women.” She commented. I blushed and said I knew nothing of this.

“But surely one as attractive as you…?” she left the rest of the question unsaid. I felt my blushes growing and finally admitted that whatever other players might have done, I was…I could not get the word out, but she guessed anyway.

“How delightful!” she laughed. She was sitting very close to me, and I could smell her perfume and feel the heat of her body and it aroused feelings in me that were totally new and confusing.

“Tell me Julian, have you never kissed a woman?” she enquired, her deep blue eyes gazing at me. My silence gave her the answer and leaning closer she joined her lips to mine. How different it felt to kiss a woman rather than a man. I felt her breast soft against me and when she took my hand and placed it there, I did not resist. Soon the gentle kiss intensified as did the pressure of our bodies against each other and my own reaction was all too evident. Eventually we broke apart, both panting and very evidently aroused.

Taking my hand Lady Jane arose and led me into the adjoining bedroom, where she gathered up the hem of her shift and lifting it over her head revealed herself totally to me. I had never seen a naked woman before and I gasped, overwhelmed by her beauty. I made to remove my shift, but she stopped me saying she wished me to look as I had on stage. Then she lay back on the bed and with gentle urgings showed me exactly what I should do. How can I describe my feelings as our bodies melted into one? Could even Will find words to adequately depict such emotions? When that final moment came and she arched her body against mine, I felt that I was drowning in a warm sea of sensations. Afterwards, we lay side by side on the bed recovering our breath, and by and by when my youthful body was restored to vigour, we set to again, only this time it was I who lay on the bed as she straddled me. Strangely, or perhaps not, this was even more agreeable to me.

We had dozed for a while after our exertions, and I saw from the sun’s rays on the wall that the day was well advanced. We gathered ourselves together and returned to the sitting room. There was a knock on the door; it was her maid, returning my gown and petticoats, now so spotless that no trace of mud could be seen. I thanked her profusely as she helped me dress. Then I thanked Jane my hostess for a ‘delightful afternoon’ and never was words better chosen. She told me that she would send word to me, and I should visit again, and in a very happy state I left her house and was transported by her carriage to near my lodgings.

I fully expected to receive an invitation to visit Lady Jane within days, but there was only silence. Gradually my disappointment eased as the days turned into weeks. Having learnt my lesson from my disastrous visit to Will’s lodgings, I certainly did not consider knocking on her door unannounced.

It was many years later that I had an explanation for her apparent change of heart and then in the most curious fashion. It happened this way. I was taking a stroll in Hyde Park one Sunday with a companion. All about us were gentlefolk taking in the summer sunshine, the women in beautiful gowns and the men smart in their doublets and breeches or hose.

Suddenly I became aware of three people walking towards us, the woman older than when I first knew her, but still very beautiful. It was Lady Jane without a doubt. On her right was a tall, distinguished man with greying hair, but it was the young woman who walked on her left who most caught my attention. She was very pretty and undoubtedly Lady Jane’s daughter, but there was also something about her, something familiar which made me think I had seen her before. I feared Lady Jane would recognise me, but accompanied as I was, I could not turn away for fear of drawing attention to myself. So, we kept walking ever closer. It was then that recognition struck me like an arrow. What I saw in her daughter’s face was my own image in a looking glass when years ago I had played Juliet!

The shock of it almost caused me to stagger. Somehow, I kept walking, and as we passed the trio, Lady Jane’s eyes and mine met, and there was the slightest nod of her head. It was only for a second, but in that moment I knew that she recognized me and also knew what I had seen in her daughter. Then they were past, and we kept walking. My companion looked at me quizzically and remarked that ‘I looked like I had seen a ghost.’

“Oh no.” I replied, “Not a ghost, quite the reverse.”

The days that followed my first encounter with Lady Jane were full of mixed emotions. There was my disappointment at not hearing from her, and my increasing trepidation when no word came from Will. My usual over-fertile imagination played out the scene at his lodgings and what might have happened once I left. Was there a dreadful row between Will and his wife, and was he determined to punish me by dismissing me from the players? At last, a note arrived from the theatre in Will’s own hand. I sat for a long time trembling, fearful to open it but knowing that I must. Eventually with shaking hands I broke open the seal.

End of Part 2