Edward Marston - The Fair Maid of Bohemia

‘An audience!’

The huge influx of visitors meant that accommodation was difficult to find. The inn recommended by Balthasar Davey was already full and they had to trawl through the city for an hour before they finally found somewhere to lay their heads. As soon as the company was safely bestowed at the Golden Lion, its book-holder was sent off to the city hall to see if their written request for permission to perform in Frankfurt had been accepted by the Burgomaster and his Council. Since a long walk through crowded streets exposed him to possible danger, Nicholas asked Owen Elias to act as a trailing bodyguard. The Welshman kept ten or fifteen yards behind him but his strong arm was not needed in his friend’s defence.

The city hall was another tall, arresting building of Gothic proportions and extravagance. Leaving Elias to keep watch at the doorway, Nicholas went in alone. Everyone had mocked the obsequious letter from the Burgomaster of Cologne, but at least it had prepared their way. Westfield’s Men would not arrive in Frankfurt as unexpected strangers. Nicholas had every reason to expect a courteous welcome from the city. As he stepped into the hallway, he got something infinitely better.

‘Nick!’

Anne Hendrik leaped up from the bench and ran to fling herself into his arms. His amazement gave way to delight and he hugged her to him.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

‘Waiting for you.’

‘Why?’

‘Why do you think?’

She kissed him on the cheek, then led him across to the bench. Holding her hands, he sank down beside her. They were so excited at seeing each other again that they gabbled simultaneously. Nicholas held up a palm to silence her, then took a deep breath before speaking.

‘I thought that you were in Amsterdam,’ he said.

‘I was, Nick.’

‘How did you find your father-in-law?’

‘I arrived too late,’ she said with a rueful shake of her head. ‘He died a week earlier. I missed the funeral by a few days. But it was not a wasted journey,’ she continued with a brave smile. ‘The family were very pleased to see me and I was able to pay my respects beside his grave. Jacob could have expected no more of me. I loved his father as my own.’

‘It must have been a grievous shock to you.’

‘It was, Nick. To go all that way and find him gone. I was desolate. The thought of a long, lonely journey back home was too much for me. So I gave way to impulse and came here.’

‘Why to Frankfurt?’

‘Because you told me that Westfield’s Men would visit the city after you had been to Cologne. I hoped that I might get here in time to meet up with you. I have been sitting on this bench for two whole days.’

‘Why come to the city hall?’

‘I knew that it was the first place you would visit on your arrival. The company cannot perform without a licence from the Burgomaster and his Council.’ She squeezed his hands and gave a smile. ‘So here I am, Nick.’

‘I could not be more delighted to see you,’ he said with a grin of disbelief. ‘But how did you get to Frankfurt? How did you travel all the way here from Amsterdam?’

‘The Hendrik family knew some Dutch merchants who were coming to the fair here to sell their goods. They agreed to take me along as their passenger.’

‘How was the journey?’

‘Long and uncomfortable.’

He was touched. ‘You endured all that just to see me?’

‘To be with you.’

‘In what way?’

‘I did not come here to exchange a brief greeting,’ she explained. ‘When I fell to thinking about it, I decided that you needed me. A group of English actors, roaming a country whose language they do not speak, is in want of an interpreter. I flatter myself that I might fill that office.’

‘You mean that you will stay with us for a while?’ he said in surprise. ‘Lodge with us here in Frankfurt?’

‘And ride on to Bohemia.’

‘Bohemia!’

‘If you will have me.’

‘Nothing would please me more, Anne. This is manna from heaven. I never dared to expect such a miracle.’

‘Would the company accept my help?’

‘They will be overjoyed by your offer.’

‘Good. It is settled.’

‘But what about England? What about your business?’

‘What about them?’

‘How will Preben fare while you are away?’

‘Exceeding well,’ she said. ‘He will fill my place with ease. I sent a letter from Amsterdam to explain that I might be out of the country longer than I planned. Preben will understand. I have no worries on that score.’ She ran a hand through his beard. ‘The truth is, I could not bear to be parted from you for that length of time.’

‘Nor I from you.’

‘Then you approve of my idea?’

‘I revel in it. You have lifted a burden from my heart.’

‘You are not the only person I wanted to see,’ she teased. ‘I missed Lawrence Firethorn as well. And Barnaby. And dear Edmund, of course. James Ingram, too. The other person I am eager to meet again is Adrian Smallwood. I have not forgotten how he piloted us through that terrible storm.’ She saw his face darken. ‘What is wrong, Nick?’

‘We suffered a dreadful loss in Flushing,’ he said.

‘Adrian?’

‘He is no longer with us, Anne.’

‘I cannot believe that he left the company.’

‘It was not of his own free will.’

‘What happened?’

‘He was murdered.’

Anne’s jaw dropped and she gave an involuntary shiver. He put a steadying arm around her as she tried to assimilate the horror of what she had just been told.

‘Adrian murdered?’ she whispered. ‘By whom?’

‘That remains a mystery,’ he confessed. ‘But let me give you the full details. It is only fair that you should know how we stand. When you do, you may have second thoughts about travelling with a company that is under such severe threat.’

***

Westfield’s Men were not merely welcomed in Frankfurt, they were feted. Their request to play in the city-sent on their behalf by the obliging Burgomaster of Cologne-was unanimously approved by the Council, one of whom, a wealthy mercer, had visited England the previous summer and actually seen the company perform at the Queen’s Head. When his colleagues heard him singing the praises of Westfield’s Men, they wanted the actors to stay for ten days, but that was not possible if they were to reach Prague by the stipulated date. It was agreed that they would give performances on three successive afternoons before continuing on their way.

Anne Hendrik’s appearance on the scene was viewed as a boon by most of the company. However, not every voice was raised in her favour. Barnaby Gill made sure that Nicholas was out of earshot before he gave vent to his complaint.

‘We do not want her meddling in our affairs,’ he said.

‘Anne is not a meddler,’ asserted Firethorn.

‘She is a woman. That says all.’

‘She is a lady, Barnaby. Though I do not expect you to know the difference. A gracious lady whom we all respect.’

‘That is so,’ agreed Hoode.

‘Anne speaks German like a native of the country, and that is more than any of us can boast. She is a godsend to us.’

‘Speak for yourself, Lawrence,’ said Gill.

‘I speak for my whole company.’

It was the morning after their arrival and the three sharers were watching the makeshift stage being erected in a corner of the square under the supervision of Nicholas Bracewell. Trestles had been provided by order of the Council, along with the poles and material necessary for screening off the temporary theatre. Accustomed to public performance in the open air, the actors were not troubled by the constant din all around them. If they could out-shout the multiple bells of London, they could cope with the tumult of the Frankfurt fair. Anne Hendrik was also surveying the preparations. Gill let his jaundiced eye fall on her.