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“I wonder if anyone troubled to ask Hera what she thought of the idea,” Molly said.
“One assumes that in Genoa, dutiful daughters obey their fathers’ wishes in such things,” Shakespeare replied. “However, as to what Hera herself thought of this, ‘twould seem that she was not averse to Corwin, for he had started paying court to her and it appeared she was receptive to him. Yesterday afternoon, howe
ver, whilst you Tuck, slept, and recovered from your injuries, Corwin came to the Theatre, seeking Ben. And he was in a most agitated state.”
“Aye, he seemed very troubled,” Bryan said. “And he did not long remain. He left before Ben arrived, as I recall.”
“Indeed,” said Kemp, his contretemps with Pope forgotten for the moment as he became caught up in the news. “He rushed off right after he spoke with you, Will. But you would not tell us what the matter was.”
Shakespeare shook his head. “I saw no need to dwell upon it,” he replied. “ ‘Twas the sort of matter that could bring an innocent young girl to grief if it became bruited about and was made the subject of malicious gossip. Already, trouble was afoot, and I had no wish to add to it.”
“What was this troubling matter, Will?” Smythe asked with a frown. “Whatever it may be, a greater trouble has now befallen Corwin, and it may have a bearing on his fate.”
“I fear it shall,” said Shakespeare. “As I have told you, Corwin was in a most perturbed state, and so I did not have all the details of the matter from him, but ‘twould seem he had somehow discovered that Hera had deceived him and was not, in fact, a virtuous young woman.”
“How does he know this?” Molly asked. “Does he have proof?”
“I do not know,” Shakespeare replied. “As I have told you, he was hot and very agitated. He could not or else would not wait for Ben. He left word with me to tell Ben when he arrived that he was going to Master Leonardo’s house to break off the engagement.”
“Without even giving her a chance to speak in her own defense?” said Molly.
“Again,” said Shakespeare, shaking his head, “you are asking questions of me that I simply cannot answer. I do not know whether or not he intended to accuse her and hear her answer to the charge. Nor do I know what sort of proof he had, if any. In any event, he certainly seemed convinced. He was in quite a state, I tell you, and his words were tumbling over one another. Aside from that, ‘tis not as if the woman were my daughter, thus I did not truly feel entitled to press him on the matter.”
“What happened then?” asked Smythe.
“Well, Corwin departed, and then you all started to arrive, and there was talk of Tuck and how he fared after the cowardly attack upon him, and then Ben came and also asked after you, Tuck-”
“Never mind about me,” said Smythe, impatiently. “Go on. What about Corwin?”
“Well, I gave Ben my report, relaying to him Corwin’s words as best I could, and as I spoke, his eyes grew wide and he appeared most disconcerted. He bade me tell him how much time had passed since Corwin left for Master Leonardo’s house and, in truth, I was not certain.” Shakespeare spread his hands out. “I told him ‘twas scarce an hour or so, perhaps less, perhaps more… I could not be more precise. At this, he seemed somewhat torn and confessed to me that he felt his duty was to remain and rehearse with the company, for his was the key role in the play, and yet, he was moved to rush straight off to Master Leonardo’s home, but knew ‘twas already too late to prevent Corwin from speaking to him. The damage, he decided, had doubtless already been done. If Corwin had gone to Master Leonardo in a fit of temper and denounced his daughter as a whore, then there would be no possibility of any intercession. An Englishman, he said, would never forgive a man who so besmirched his daughter’s honor; a Genoan would very likely kill him.”
“Prophetic words,” said Phillips, “save only ‘twas the Genoan who was killed.”
“Indeed,” said Shakespeare. “I said to him then, ‘Ben, if blood is likely to be spilt, then to the devil with the play! You must go and try to stop it!’ And he considered, then replied that knowing Master Leonardo as he did, ‘twas little chance that he would drink hot blood and allow rage to drive him into violence. Without a doubt, he thought, Master Leonardo would insist upon satisfaction and seek it in the honorable, formal manner of the code duello.”
“What did they do? Fight a duel right there in his home?” asked Pope.
“Of course not, you cretin!” Kemp said. “One fights a duel at sunrise, according to the code, with seconds and all the forms properly observed!”
“Don’t you go calling me a cretin, you sheeptupper!” Pope replied, rounding on Kemp, but a low growl from Stackpole silenced them both.
“Never mind them,” said Smythe, with a grimace. “Go on, Will. Then what happened? I cannot believe I slept through all of this!”
“You would have slept through the flood,” said Shakespeare. “You awoke every now and then, but only for a moment or two, and never quite completely. I began to grow concerned, but Granny Meg assured me that-”
“Aye, never mind him, either; he survived, get on with it!” said Kemp.
“Thank you, Kemp, your concern touches me deeply,” Smythe said, dryly.
“Stuff it!” Kemp replied. “Go on, Will.”
“Where was I?” Shakespeare asked with a frown.
“They were going to fight a duel,” Molly prompted him. “Or at least Ben thought they would.”
“Aye, just so,” said Shakespeare. “Say, Stackpole, this is thirsty work. A man could use a drink.”
Stackpole scowled. “Right. Just one, mind! And then you pay”.
