Page 70 of The Two Wills

“Good now, some excellent fortune! How did you meet him? Is he as handsome as they say?”

“Much more, and very kind, and he … well … can you keep a secret?”

Little Goat’s face blossomed like a pink tulip. “I can and I will.”

I pulled him to sit with me on a step. “Well, Kit—that’s what he told me to call him, being his familiar now. He asked me …” I suddenly realized how I was boasting of my life, when Little Goat couldn’t even walk away freely. “Never mind. It’s all very vain of me to share such things.”

“Come on, Hughes,” Little Goat pleaded. “It’s all right. I’d rather hear about your happy secrets than dwell on my misery. Please tell.”

“As you wish,” I said. “I’ve decided to leave the Lord Chamberlain’s Men to take on a leading role in Marlowe’s new play. I’ll be joining the Earl of Pembroke’s Men. Kit’s writing the role just for me.”

Little Goat’s eyes widened. “Summers day!” he exclaimed. “Christopher Marlowe writing a role for you. Why, you have climbed the turret, as we all knew you would. But …” His brow twisted sadly. “Leaving the Lord Chamberlain’s Men? What did Will say when you told him?”

“I haven’t told him yet. I haven’t told anyone except you.”

His brows folded darkly. “How now, I wouldn’t want to be there when that happens.”

“Me neither,” I said, “but I don’t really have a choice. I must change my circumstances. In truth, I grow sadder by the minute because of … well … because.”

“I understand,” Little Goat said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “But let’s think of the good. Pray, tell. What’s the name of Marlowe’s new play?”

“It’s called The Troublesome Reign and Lamentable Death of Edward the Second, King of England, with the Tragical Fall of Proud Mortimer.”

“Jesu! There’s a mouthful,” Little Goat quipped. “I feel I’m halfway through the play with that title.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s a bit windy. But the play itself is as good as the best. The truly wondrous part is I’m to play a boy—a beautiful boy who is lover to a king.”

“God’s wounds!” Little Goat’s eyes widened. “It will cause serious trouble.”

“I know.” I looked momentarily back at the guard and then lowered my voice further. “But Kit makes me feel brave.”

“I’m happy for you, Hughes,” Little Goat said. “I’m sure it will be a great success, just like all that you do.” His smile weakened as he asked, “May I request a favor?”

“Of course,” I said. “Anything!”

“Would you mind asking Kit or Will if they might help me be freed from this place. I miss the Lord Chamberlain’s Men so much, and I can’t bear it here any longer.”

“I will,” I said. I didn’t want to tell him that I’d already tried, but so far was answered with only hopelessness. Instead, I said, “I know this will mean little to you, but, for what it’s worth, you were very good up there.”

He scoffed. “As if I had a choice.”

“That’s enough now, you two!” the guard barked. “There be other visitors that wants to make your acquaintance. Get back inside.”

“That wasn’t long enough,” I bristled. “Mister Marlowe said I should have an hour’s visit.”

“I don’t care if Jesus Christ himself says you should have an hour. The boy has to get to work. Now, bugger off.”

And so Little Goat was dragged back inside, to his fate. My heart sank, fearing what the brute meant by “other visitors.”

I worried there would be little the Poet or Kit could do to save him—as they had already stated. Still, I would try.

ThirtyLeaving

Wherein Willy Hughes makes a fateful decision

For why should others’ false adulterate eyes

Give salutation to my sportive blood?