Edward Marston - The Bawdy Basket

There was immediate agreement. Everyone hurriedly changed out of his costume so that they could troop off to the taproom. Nicholas took care to keep Firethorn talking so that the actor-manager’s ire was deflected from Quilter. When their discussion came to an end, the room was almost deserted. By the time that Firethorn remembered the sins of his military advisor, the miscreant had slipped quietly away.

‘This is your doing, Nick,’ decided Firethorn.

‘What is?’

‘This ruse to distract me so that Frank Quilter could sneak off.’

‘The news about the landlord’s illness was important.’

‘That’s why you saved it until now, you cunning rogue. You used it as a cloak to throw over the misdemeanours of a bad actor.’

‘A good actor, on a bad day,’ corrected Nicholas.

‘I’ll hear no excuses.’

‘Nor will I offer any. I’ll simply say that Frank has learnt his lesson and is duly contrite. It will never happen again. I give you my word on that.’

‘I want to hear the promise from his own mouth.’

‘You will, have no fear.’

Firethorn unclipped his breastplate and tossed it aside. After wiping his face with a piece of cloth, he stared at Nicholas through narrowed lids. The anger had now gone from his voice. It was replaced by curiosity. He scratched his beard ruminatively.

‘You like Frank Quilter, do you not?’

‘I like him as a friend and admire him as an actor.’

‘There was little admire to in his performance today.’

‘I disagree,’ said Nicholas. ‘He may have gone astray at times but he was very conscious of his waywardness. When he found his bearings, he sailed through the rest of the play without a single mistake. Reproach him for his faults, if you must, but give him credit for pulling himself together.’

‘Can the fellow be trusted, Nick?’

‘Without a doubt.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’d stake my life on it.’

‘Look to the man’s history,’ warned Firethorn. ‘Before he came to us, he was a sharer with Banbury’s Men, our deadly rivals. I thought that he joined us to belong to a superior company but this afternoon’s disgrace made me consider a darker motive.’

‘And what might that be?’

‘He was planted on us with deliberation by Giles Randolph.’

‘Never!’

‘Instead of yielding up one of their best actors, Banbury’s Men were putting an enemy in our midst to wreck our best endeavours.’

‘That’s unjust!’ returned Nicholas with vehemence.

‘Is it?’

‘Frank Quilter is proud to be a member of Westfield’s Men. It’s the fulfilment of a dream. He would not willingly inflict damage on us for the world.’

‘Then what was he doing this afternoon?’

‘His mind strayed to other things.’

‘What other things?’

‘It’s not for me to say.’

‘ What other things?’ repeated Firethorn, stepping in closer. ‘Come, Nick. I must know. I have responsibility for what happens out there on the stage. If I am to risk letting Frank play with us again, I need to understand the man and be aware of his concerns. Out with it, man! What caused his mind to stray?’

Nicholas glanced around the room. It was now completely empty. He could not go on shielding his friend indefinitely from Firethorn’s chastisement. The best way to help Frank Quilter was to tell the truth. Hands on his hips, Firethorn would clearly settle for nothing less. He raised a challenging eyebrow.

‘Well, Nick?’

‘I must first swear you to secrecy. Frank does not want it noised abroad.’

‘I’ll be as close as the grave.’

‘Then thus it stands,’ said Nicholas quietly. ‘Frank is sorely troubled by a problem in his family and it preys on his mind.’

Firethorn was scornful. ‘We all have problems in our families,’ he said harshly. ‘Look at me, for example. My wife hounds me from breakfast until bedtime, my children tax me with their incessant demands, and my servants irritate me with their stupidity. I tell you, Nick, in all honesty, there are days on which I regret that I ever surrendered my freedom and married. Here at the Queen’s Head, I’m a bachelor still. Whenever I step upon that stage, I repudiate the very existence of a wife and children.’ Striking a pose, he made a grand gesture with his arm. ‘An actor should have no family.’

‘Frank has no choice in the matter.’

‘When he takes part in a play, his family should disappear.’

‘A disappearance is the source of his grief.’

‘Tell him to pattern himself on me.’

‘His troubles are not related to a wife and children.’

‘Then they are mild by comparison,’ boasted Firethorn. ‘Marriage is the highroad to suffering. It’s nothing but a case of wedding, bedding and woe. What, then, irks Frank Quilter, a single man? Has his mother been robbed of her purse? Does he have a sister who has unwisely parted with her maidenhood?’ His sarcasm deepened. ‘Or is it some more distant family catastrophe? A second cousin who has mislaid his hat, perhaps? A nephew with a speck of dust in his eye?’

‘Something far worse than all these together.’

‘Then tell me — as long as you expect no sympathy.’

‘I ask for nothing but understanding,’ said Nicholas calmly. ‘The reason that Frank Quilter faltered out there this afternoon is quite simple. His father will be executed at Smithfield next week.’

Francis Quilter was in a quandary. Wanting to escape to the privacy of his lodging, he felt obliged to stay at the Queen’s Head in order to make peace with his fellows. If he stole away, he feared, he would only set up resentment among the others, yet if he joined them in their celebrations, he was sure to be the target for ridicule and tart comment. There was no easy way out. Having enjoyed the privileges of being a member of the company, he had to pay the penalties that were sometimes involved. Accordingly, Quilter gritted his teeth and entered the taproom. A flurry of jibes greeted his appearance.

‘Look!’ said Owen Elias, pointing a finger at him. ‘Wonder of wonders! Frank has entered through the correct door for once.’

‘I’ll warrant that he won’t remember the correct lines,’ observed Barnaby Gill.

‘He won’t even remember the title of the play.’

‘Or the name of the playwright,’ sighed Edmund Hoode. ‘When I wrote the tragedy of Hannibal , I thought I was its sole creator. This afternoon, I learnt that I had a co-author, for Frank invented new speeches every time he opened his mouth.’

‘What will you call the piece now, Edmund?’ teased Elias with an arm around Hoode’s shoulder. ‘ Hannibal and Quilter?’

‘ Quilter and Hannibal ,’ decided Gill. ‘For the former conquered the latter.’

‘Not with intent,’ said Quilter with an apologetic shrug.

‘You mean that you could have ruined the play even more ?’

‘I offer a thousand pardons to you all.’

Gill was dismissive. ‘It will take more than that to buy off me.’

‘My price is lower,’ said Elias, downing his ale in one monstrous gulp. ‘Fill up my tankard, Frank, and we are friends again.’

‘Gladly!’ agreed Quilter.

‘You do not need to spend your way into my good graces,’ said Hoode. ‘Though you stumbled through the first half of the play, you trotted through the rest with the grace of an Arab stallion. The final scene has never been played with more poignancy, even though I’ve taken your role myself on more than one occasion. Welcome to the company, Frank! We are glad to have you.’

‘Yes,’ added Elias with an affectionate chuckle, ‘there’s no shame in what you did. None of us is perfect. We all have poor days upon the boards.’