my plantations in virginia are not mortgaged for a nutmeg. i have an ancient name that will bring you preferment when your grandson is a wessex. is she fertile?
is she obedient?
i like her.
my lady viola.
i have spoken with your father.
"poet?"
by coveting my property. i cannot shed blood in her house but i will cut your throat anon. you have a name?
two hours at prayer!
piety is for sunday! and two hours at prayer is not piety, it is self- importance!
it would be better that you tell her to get off her knees and show some civility to her six-day lord and master.
my lady viola.
i am aware of it, but it is beauty's privilege.
no. i have spoken to the queen. her majesty's consent is requisite when a wessex takes a wife, and once gained, her consent is her command.
your father should keep you better informed. he has bought me for you. he returns from his estates to see us married two weeks from saturday. you are allowed to show your pleasure.
how your mind hops about! your father was a shopkeeper, your children will bear arms, and i will recover my fortune. that is the only matter under discussion today. you will like virginia.
why, yes! my fortune lies in my plantations. the tobacco weed. i need four thousand pounds to fit out a ship and put my investments to work--i fancy tobacco has a future. we will not stay there long, three or four years . . .
it was your eyes. no, your lips.
will you defy your father and your queen?
she wants to inspect you. at greenwich, come sunday. be submissive, modest, grateful and brief.
not ready? where is she?
will you ask her majesty to be patient?!
now, pay attention, nursy. the queen, gloriana regina, god's chosen vessel, the radiant one, who shines her light on us, is at greenwich today, and prepared, during the evening's festivities, to bestow her gracious favour on my choice of wife--and if we're late for lunch, the old boot will not forgive. so you get you to my lady's chamber and produce her with or without her undergarments.
by heaven, i will drag her down, by the queen's command
ah! my lady! the tide waits for no man, but i swear it would wait for you!
are you bringing your laundry woman?
on a more fortuitous occasion, perhaps
now?
the queen asks for you. answer well.
is there a man?
there was a man, poet--a theatre poet, i heard--does he come to the house?
an insolent penny-a-page rogue, marlowe, he said, christopher marlowe--has he been to the house?
that dog!
lady viola is…young in the world. your majesty is wise in it. nature and truth are the very enemies of playacting. i'll wager my fortune.
marlowe!
you look sad, my lady! let me take you riding.
bless me, i thought it was a horse.
i understand of course. it is to be expected.
and on a day of mourning. i never met the fellow but once at your house.
oh!--dear god, i did not think it would be me to tell you. a great loss to playwriting, and to dancing.
killed last night, in a tavern! come, then, we'll say a prayer for his soul
oh, spare me, dear ghost, spare me for the love of christ!
spare me!
shakespeare!
you upstart inky pup! now i will show you your place, which is in hell!
by god, i'll fight the lot of you
i rejoiced at his death because i thought it was yours. that is all i know of marlowe.
close it!
close it! take it down stone by stone! i want it ploughed into the ground, and sown with quick lime!
my ship is moored at bankside, bound for virginia on the afternoon tide--please do not weep, lady de lesseps, you are gaining a colony.
would you oblige me with fifty or so in gold?--just to settle my accounts at the dockside?
ah!--look, she comes!
i will.
thank you. let go, there's a good nurse.
the tide will not wait. farewell!
your majesty
your majesty!
indeed i am a bride short. how is this to end?
fifty shillings. pounds.