The Marlowe Conspiracy (50 page)

In Act II, Scene 7, Will watched anxiously as Jaques spouted the following words:

“All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts...”

As Will gazed out into the theater, his eyes lifted into the tiers, then fell upon the rapt faces of the groundlings. He frowned. He pushed closer to get a better peek through the curtain.

At the back of the yard stood an intriguing man: he wore a dark tunic and a dark, broad-rimmed hat; a real and dense beard covered his chin; long black hair rested on the tops of his shoulders; and a pipe protruded from his lips, sending a thin tail of smoke up into the stands. He didn't look familiar; in fact, he bore only a slight, vague resemblance to Kit. And yet...

Will didn't turn away. He couldn’t take his eyes off the dark man. For an entire act of the play he watched the man while ignoring all else on stage. He watched for some revealing sign, some reaction that might betray the man’s true identity. Nothing. The man simply stood there and smoked.

Eventually, Henslowe spotted Will and his face broadened into a smile. He put his hands on his paunchy stomach and bounded up beside the curtain. With a peek over Will's arm, he gazed out into the theater and gave Will a playful nudge.

“It's a winner this one,” he whispered. “Always knew comedy would come back in fashion.”

Will turned and put a finger to his mouth.

“Shhh!”

Confused, Henslowe stuck out his lower lip.

“What’s wrong now, ay? What have I got to ‘shhh!’ about?”

Will turned and peered through the curtains again. Past the players, among the heads of the groundlings at the back of the yard, the dark man had moved slightly – he now leant against one of the posts supporting the tiers above. Coils of smoke still circled away from the pipe bowl. Will pointed at him.

“Do you see that man over there?” he asked.

“Which man? There’s more than one, you know.”

“The one dressed in a dark hat and dark doublet. He’s smoking a pipe.”

“Sorry... can’t say I do...”

“You’re not looking properly. Over there – at the back.”

Henslowe strained harder to see out into the theatre. He shook his head.

“Nope. You’re mad, you are. What’s so important about this man, anyhow? You don’t owe him some money?”

“No.”

“If you do, you’ll have to wait for all the boxes to be properly counted. Could take a few hours – even days. I doubt there’ll be any profits this soon. Not for a while yet, indeed.”

“No, I just thought there was something... something interesting about him, that’s all.”

As Act III, Scene 3 unfolded in the theater, Will narrowed his eyes with interest, still transfixed by the dark man. On stage, Touchstone, the court jester wore patches of red, black, orange, blue, and brown. A three-pronged hat with bells at each end jangled from his head. He strode over the boards in spiky shoes and wheeled his eyes around the audience:

“When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's good wit seconded with the forward child understanding...”

Will mouthed the next words as they were spoken on stage.

“...it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room...”

At the back of the groundlings, the dark man suddenly flinched at the words – it was obviously a reference to the meeting house at Deptford. He stood up straight. He peered around the theater. His eyes searched the windows of the tiring house and he gazed hard at the doors. At last, he caught sight of Will at the curtain. For one brief, fleeting moment, their eyes connected.

Will's mouth dropped open. His heart accelerated. His breathing almost ceased. He struggled to believe it.

Without pausing to think, he spun around and dashed past Henslowe. He flew toward the side exit of the tiring house. Henslowe pinched his tuffs of hair and frowned.

“Wait! Come back, Will!” he said, trying to keep his voice low.

“One moment!” Will called back.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll return anon, don’t worry!”

“But... you can't leave now!”

Will didn't stop. He batted the comment away with his hand, dived out through the door, jumped down two steps, and landed onto the sawdust of the yard. Slowly, he shifted through the closely packed bodies, the garlic-laden breath, and worked his way toward the back of the theater.

The dark man saw him coming. Jerked into motion. Cut left and shuffled through the crowd in the opposite direction.

Will quickened his pace, bumped into shoulders, tripped on someone's feet and grabbed a woman's arm to stop from falling. Oaths colored the air. He didn't stop. He locked his eyes on the dark man's hat bobbing up and down as he darted away in front.

At the edge of the yard, the dark man halted and looked toward the main exit. Too many bodies were packed between himself and the gate for an easy escape. Instead, he twisted right and veered toward the stage. As if he knew his way around, he nipped close to the stage, sidled down its length, and found a space between a beam and the edge of the tiring house. He squashed through the space and entered a back passageway.

Will traced the same path, gaining on the man with every stride. He swiftly approached the gap. With his stomach sucked in, he forced his body through the gap, but tripped on the other side and stumbled headfirst into the blackness of the passageway.

Sounds from the tiring house now echoed close. The passageway seemed empty. Gloom pressed around him. The walls confined his body. He squinted to see and picked his next steps hesitantly as he crept forward. When he rounded a corner he stopped abruptly at the sight ahead.

The dark man now waited beside a rear door that led outside the theater. His body made a half-turn in Will’s direction. The two men stood and faced each other. Neither one of them moved. Neither one spoke a word. The dark man opened the door and intense sunlight flooded into the passageway and cast his figure into a silhouette. Will took a step closer but raised his forearm and shielded his eyes from the radiance. The man stepped into the doorway and lingered as Will tried to see him. Slowly, Will’s eyes adjusted to the light and he almost began to distinguish the man’s features.

Suddenly, from the theater yard came a wave of raucous laughter. Will cocked his head. Henslowe's voice echoed from the tiring house and distracted him. He turned to away to look.

“Will!” called Henslowe's voice. “Where are you? Will! Come back!”

The door squealed and banged shut against its frame. Will craned his head back to see. Too late.

The man had disappeared through the door. For a second, Will dithered and leant forward to follow, but he didn't move. A tiny smile played upon his lips. He understood that Kit had returned not just to say goodbye or to see the play or to the bestow the work with his blessing: he had returned to give proof that he’d created a new life. Even so, Will understood their lives had now diverged forever. They would never meet again.

“Good-bye, Kit,” he muttered into the darkness.

Strangely satisfied and jubilant, he turned around and headed back toward the tiring house.

Out on the stage, the actors cavorted around and continued their fevered antics. The crowd erupted into laughter once again. Their laughter was strong and unrestrained now. It drowned out the wicked tongues of propriety and class. It escaped the stamping boots of the law and the state. It removed the mask of God and joined everyone in its sound. The noise soared above the heads of the groundlings, circled up through the stands, spiraled out through the open roof, and lifted into the open blue sky.

Today, the sun was ripe and hot and ready for life.

Exeunt.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

T
he majority of information known about Marlowe and his life is gleaned from the official documents of Elizabeth’s totalitarian government – hardly a paragon of truth. Nevertheless, the reader may be interested to know how much of this story correlates with conventional historical ‘fact’.

Characters

Christopher Marlowe
was indeed the most famous playwright of his era: the style and content of his plays were revolutionary and made ‘The Admiral’s Men’ the most popular theatrical company in England. He was also connected to the spy world, though his exact duties are unknown. His patron, and the three men that he met with at Deptford on May 30th, were all involved in espionage to varying degrees. Marlowe also had friends at the highest levels of government: for example, in 1597 when Cambridge University tried to ban his master’s degree because of lengthy absences from residence, the Privy Council itself interceded on Marlowe’s behalf and stated that his absences were due to “matters touching the benefit of his country”. This action by the Privy Council, the nation’s supreme legal authority after the Queen, is unprecedented and leads many scholars to speculate that Marlowe was recruited for espionage work while still a student.

William Shakespeare
was born the same year as Marlowe (1564) but lacked higher education and took longer to develop his talent. He certainly knew Marlowe. In 1589, ‘The Admiral's Men’ merged with another theatre company called ‘Lord Strange's Men’, who employed the young Shakespeare as a writer and reviser of plays. Thus, Marlowe would have come into contact with Shakespeare on a daily basis, and there is some evidence to suggest that Marlowe collaborated with him on parts of the
'Henry VI'
trilogy as well as
'Titus Andronicus'
. Shakespeare makes open reference to Marlowe in numerous places throughout
‘As You Like it’
.

John Whitgift
was Archbishop of Canterbury from 1583 until his death in 1604. He led a vigorous campaign against religious heresy in England, particularly against Puritanism. Throughout his time as Archbishop, Whitgift always held the special favor of Elizabeth and even attended her on her deathbed. He punished non-conforming ministers, executed numerous heretics, and publically burnt unorthodox texts. His exact views on Marlowe are unknown, but there are many indicators that he disapproved of the playwright. For example, in 1587 he was Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge University and undoubtedly played a role in trying to ban Marlowe’s master’s degree. He was a member of the Privy Council throughout the investigation into Marlowe’s involvement with the libels. And in 1599 he publically burnt Marlowe’s translation of Ovid’s
‘Elegies’
.

Thomas Walsingham
was Marlowe’s patron and was also highly connected to the intelligence network, due to his cousin Sir Francis Walsingham (the Queen’s chief advisor and spymaster). However, there is no evidence to suggest he was a homosexual.

Audrey Walsingham
was Thomas’s wife, though it is uncertain when they married. Her maiden name was Shelton – an old and distinguished family, indirectly connected to Anne Boleyn, the Queen’s mother. She eventually rose to become one of Elizabeth’s Gentlewomen of the Privy Chamber and there were rumors that she later became the mistress of Sir Robert Cecil (Lord Burghley’s son).

Events

The episode in Calais
is imagined, but one of the most common duties for an Elizabethan spy was the transport of important documents between nations. This was dangerous work and often required the use of disguises. For example, a Spanish courier traveling through Scotland in the 1500’s posed as a dentist and carried secret letters in a hidden compartment in his bag. Spies were also known to conceal messages by having them sewn into the buttons of their coats.

The posting of the libel
occurred around midnight on May 5th, 1593 at a Dutch church on Broad Street in London. It was one of many libels posted around London since April 15th. It didn’t quote Marlowe’s work and was not signed with his name – instead, it threatened violence against foreigners and made frequent reference to Marlowe’s plays, such as ‘The Jew of Malta’ and ‘The Massacre of Paris’ and was signed with the moniker
“Tamburlaine”
, Marlowe’s most famous character. In reaction, the Privy Council resolved to find and punish the author for inciting rebellion. Days later, on May 10th, a proclamation was read at Guildhall offering 100 shillings for any information about the author. On May 11th, the Privy Council granted permission for the use of torture on persons suspected of posting the libels.

The Earl of Derby’s poisoning
is a suspected result of his connection with Catholic radicals. His cousin, Richard Hesketh, was a Catholic traitor who tried convincing Derby to seize the throne from Elizabeth. Derby refused to comply and subsequently revealed the plot, which lead to the execution of several conspirators. Derby died at a mysteriously young age (34 yrs old) and many scholars think he was slow-poisoned in retaliation for revealing the conspiracy against the Queen.