Page 21 of Love, Will

With the hope of seeing you soon,

Yours,

Henry”

“Dear Earl,

I am most joyous to learn about your successful encounter with Her Majesty and, if I may add, I am not surprised you became her favourite Lord at court, as you surely are the most intelligent and youthfully pleasant to our Queen’s blessed eye.

Thankful is not a word powerful enough to express the gratitude of your offering, notwithstanding I feel obligated to resist my urge to indulge your wish as it would not be honorable of me to remain in your residence.

The Pembroke’s Men have prepared for touring and we will depart in two weeks. I hope we will pass Oxford while Her Majesty and my Lord are still visiting. It would give me much joy to converse with the delightful Earl once more.

With eternal gratitude,

Yours always,

Will Shakespeare”

“Beloved Will,

I beg thee reconsider. Within a few weeks, I will return to London and will join you at my residence. I can only dream of how delightful the nights would be with our long conversations and wine tasting. I am certain the Great Poet can focus on chasing his muses and create masterpieces while waiting for the theatre to reopen.

Will, please reconsider!

Hoping that on my return my house will be called ours,

Yours,

H”

“My dearest, most kind Earl,

Your letter contented my heart with such joy that it almost gave away, the image of your presence and evenings of wine and conversation are the only thing bringing me merriment in these times of anguish and I would gleefully say yes if I did not have family responsibility.

Alas, a father and a husband will do his duty and tour the country to continue to support my little ones in Stratford.

Henry, I truly hope to see you soon!

With all my heart,

Will”

A few days had passed since my last letter to Henry, and part of me hoped to receive a reply before our departure. Most of us had changed housing accommodations during the plague outburst and I decided to share a room with Richard at George’s Inn, which turned out not to be sharing at all since my friend looked determined to say goodbye to every free prostitute in London.

I sat at the small wooden desk by the window and soaked the quill in ink several times, but all I could leave behind were drops and lack of imagination. I was too troubled to write, couldn’t even master a single rhyme, let alone a sonnet.

Our uncertain future pressed a heavy weight on my mind, along with the coin situation and how I would manage to send it back home to my family.

I had planned to remain in London through all my work. Somehow the idea of touring degraded our reputation as a respectable theatre company. And of course, even though I was not ready to admit it even to myself, I would miss spending time with Henry.

I adored having him as a friend, not only for the reputation and the lifestyle I had been allowed to taste by accompanying him, but I truly enjoyed his young wisdom and fresh way of seeing the world. He turned out to be a very intelligent young man who had access to the best education and through our exchange of ideas, I lived something I was never permitted access to. It felt great to have fellow actors to chat with, but Henry offered more than I had ever dreamt of.

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a harsh knock on the door. I frowned. Richard had left for the evening and his father kept occupied with planning, the rent was paid in full until our departure, so I wondered who else could it be. I dreaded another visit from the crows.

Then again, I heard the person behind the door knocking even harder and more impatiently. I stood from my chair and went to open the door. When I released the lock and chain, I couldn’t believe my eyes. In front of me stood Henry Wriothesley, Third Earl of Southampton, sweating and panting. I froze in shock.

“He...Henry?” I barely managed to say, unable to move my lips, which adopted a statuesque posture caused by the extreme surprise.

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