in Denmark.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Hoode. ‘
Sir Thomas More
will be a poor play if I take out all the lines that offended the censor. He hacked it to pieces.’
‘His writ does not run in Elsinore.’
Hoode sat up. ‘We perform the piece exactly as it is written?’
‘That’s my suggestion,’ said Firethorn, leafing through the pages. ‘Sir Thomas is a part I yearn to play. He towers over the drama like a Colossus and his execution will move the hardest of hearts.
Sir Thomas More
would grace any stage.’
‘Thank you, Lawrence,’ he said, touched. ‘I have never had a play savaged by the Master of the Revels before and I was deeply wounded. To have it performed in Denmark would be a balm to my injuries.’ He turned to the book holder. ‘What’s your opinion, Nick?’
‘I think it’s a fine play,’ said Nicholas. ‘One of your best.’
‘It’s settled then,’ declared Firethorn, tossing the manuscript onto the table. ‘That’s one problem solved.’
‘I disagree, Lawrence.’
‘I thought you liked the play.’
‘I admire it greatly,’ said Nicholas, ‘but it is hardly a suitablechoice for a wedding. Lord Westfield will expect laughter and gaiety. We cannot celebrate the occasion with a tragedy.’
Hoode nodded. ‘Nick makes a telling point.’
‘Then we play
Sir Thomas More
elsewhere,’ said Firethorn, determined not to be deprived of the chance to create a superb new role. ‘They’ll have a comedy for the wedding and a tragedy at some other venue in Denmark.’
‘I’m sorry to challenge you again, Lawrence,’ said Nicholas, ‘but I have to question the wisdom of that decision.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the name of Sir Thomas will mean little to a Danish audience. He may live fresh in our memory but they have their own heroes and men of integrity. But there is an even stronger argument against the play,’ Nicholas went on. ‘It was rejected in its present form and there was a good reason for that.’
‘Yes,’ said Firethorn with a scowl. ‘Sir Edmund Tilney does not appreciate the talent of Edmund Hoode. Our celebrated Master of the Revels sliced the play wide open.’
‘Only because he thought it politic to do so. And you malign him unjustly. He’s an admirer of Edmund’s work and has never turned one of his plays away before. What alarmed him was the coincidence.’
‘What coincidence, Nick?’
‘I can tell you that,’ interjected Hoode. ‘At the time when Sir Thomas was under-sheriff of London, there was great unrest over the number of foreigners in the capital. It’s dealt with in three separate scenes. Unhappily,’ he said with a grimace, ‘the same hatred of strangers had been whipped into a frenzy again.’
‘Look what happened to Anne and Preben yesterday,’ resumed Nicholas. ‘They learnt just how much resentment is felt against foreigners. Without intending to do so, certain scenes in Edmund’s play might excite that resentment even more.’
‘Perish the thought!’ said Hoode.
‘Such objections could not be raised in Denmark,’ argued Firethorn. ‘We would hardly arouse enmity against strangers there.’
‘No,’ conceded Nicholas, ‘but we would show England in a very poor light. Remember this – whenever we perform, our patron and his bride will be in the audience. No play will endear itself to the new Lady Westfield if it portrays this city as a cauldron of hatred and intolerance.’
‘
Sir Thomas More
is a history play.’
‘History has a nasty habit of repeating itself, Lawrence, as in the case of our present troubles. Denmark will not be unaware of those. Among the strangers here,’ Nicholas pointed out, ‘we have Danes as well. Their letters home are bound to talk of the outrages against foreigners.’
‘Nick has persuaded me,’ said Hoode. ‘My play is withdrawn.’
Firethorn raised a palm. ‘Not so fast, Edmund. I’ll not yield up a wonderful role so easily. To make it more acceptable,’ he said, ‘all that
‘I doubt it,’ said Hoode. ‘
Sir Thomas More
will be a poor play if I take out all the lines that offended the censor. He hacked it to pieces.’
‘His writ does not run in Elsinore.’
Hoode sat up. ‘We perform the piece exactly as it is written?’
‘That’s my suggestion,’ said Firethorn, leafing through the pages. ‘Sir Thomas is a part I yearn to play. He towers over the drama like a Colossus and his execution will move the hardest of hearts.
Sir Thomas More
would grace any stage.’
‘Thank you, Lawrence,’ he said, touched. ‘I have never had a play savaged by the Master of the Revels before and I was deeply wounded. To have it performed in Denmark would be a balm to my injuries.’ He turned to the book holder. ‘What’s your opinion, Nick?’
‘I think it’s a fine play,’ said Nicholas. ‘One of your best.’
‘It’s settled then,’ declared Firethorn, tossing the manuscript onto the table. ‘That’s one problem solved.’
‘I disagree, Lawrence.’
‘I thought you liked the play.’
‘I admire it greatly,’ said Nicholas, ‘but it is hardly a suitablechoice for a wedding. Lord Westfield will expect laughter and gaiety. We cannot celebrate the occasion with a tragedy.’
Hoode nodded. ‘Nick makes a telling point.’
‘Then we play
Sir Thomas More
elsewhere,’ said Firethorn, determined not to be deprived of the chance to create a superb new role. ‘They’ll have a comedy for the wedding and a tragedy at some other venue in Denmark.’
‘I’m sorry to challenge you again, Lawrence,’ said Nicholas, ‘but I have to question the wisdom of that decision.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the name of Sir Thomas will mean little to a Danish audience. He may live fresh in our memory but they have their own heroes and men of integrity. But there is an even stronger argument against the play,’ Nicholas went on. ‘It was rejected in its present form and there was a good reason for that.’
‘Yes,’ said Firethorn with a scowl. ‘Sir Edmund Tilney does not appreciate the talent of Edmund Hoode. Our celebrated Master of the Revels sliced the play wide open.’
‘Only because he thought it politic to do so. And you malign him unjustly. He’s an admirer of Edmund’s work and has never turned one of his plays away before. What alarmed him was the coincidence.’
‘What coincidence, Nick?’
‘I can tell you that,’ interjected Hoode. ‘At the time when Sir Thomas was under-sheriff of London, there was great unrest over the number of foreigners in the capital. It’s dealt with in three separate scenes. Unhappily,’ he said with a grimace, ‘the same hatred of strangers had been whipped into a frenzy again.’
‘Look what happened to Anne and Preben yesterday,’ resumed Nicholas. ‘They learnt just how much resentment is felt against foreigners. Without intending to do so, certain scenes in Edmund’s play might excite that resentment even more.’
‘Perish the thought!’ said Hoode.
‘Such objections could not be raised in Denmark,’ argued Firethorn. ‘We would hardly arouse enmity against strangers there.’
‘No,’ conceded Nicholas, ‘but we would show England in a very poor light. Remember this – whenever we perform, our patron and his bride will be in the audience. No play will endear itself to the new Lady Westfield if it portrays this city as a cauldron of hatred and intolerance.’
‘
Sir Thomas More
is a history play.’
‘History has a nasty habit of repeating itself, Lawrence, as in the case of our present troubles. Denmark will not be unaware of those. Among the strangers here,’ Nicholas pointed out, ‘we have Danes as well. Their letters home are bound to talk of the outrages against foreigners.’
‘Nick has persuaded me,’ said Hoode. ‘My play is withdrawn.’
Firethorn raised a palm. ‘Not so fast, Edmund. I’ll not yield up a wonderful role so easily. To make it more acceptable,’ he said, ‘all that
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