Page 38 of Love, Will

Chapter 9

"I would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety." – Henry V

“Dear Will,

I trust this letter finds you well, and you have arrived in Stratford in time. We did not hear any news from you nor we wanted to bother you in such sad moments. Know that we are all praying for your son to find peace and your family to recover swiftly after this heartbreaking news.

We have played some of your work and kept your share of the bounty, myself and the lads chipped extra for you considering recent events, please do not trouble yourself with coin, we have kept your room and paid the rent for another month on your behalf.

We would very much like to speak to you soon. We had a meeting with the owner of the land and he is increasing the rent once more. Myself and the men think we should open our own theatre and I would like you to be a shareholder along with me and some others. It’s what we always dreamt of, remember?

Call on us when you are back in London. We do not want to haste you, but we do hope to lay eyes on you again soon.

Yours,

Richard”

“Dear Will,

I had to rush my return from Italy and be present at court immediately. On my arrival I was told about your son. Please know I am truly sorry for your young man. I will be in London this week and would love to invite you to accompany me for supper this Wednesday evening.

There are several urgent things happening at the moment and I need a friend who loves me by my side to get through them.

Please join me. I need to lay my eyes on you once more.

With love,

Henry”

I spent several days at the inn locked in my room with only a few breaks for sustenance, reading these two letters over and over until my fingers smudged the ink away, wondering if my son’s death was a punishment for what Henry and I lived over the years. It seemed that now, both my career and my love were fading away in only two letters. I started wondering what else I could be, if not Henry’s lover or London’s most famous playwright. Could I go back to Stratford to teach Grammar or Latin? Become an actor for another theatre company? Sell fish in the market? I spent the rest of the morning dwelling on the consequences of my actions and what the future held. But, after fantasizing about different lifestyles I decided the best course was to take action on the present. So, I headed towards the theatre where I found the men on the stage, still rehearsing.

They were all pleased to have me back and greeted me cheerfully, not bringing up the subject of Hamnet’s passing but telling me stories about what had happened during my absence. I listened to what they had to say about the rent increase at the theatre, their plans to raise money and brothel tales that put some of the men in a terrible position with the ladies. When they got back to rehearsing, Richard took me aside into the room his father used to keep. Master Burbage, it seemed, had finally decided to adopt a quieter life and had entrusted his son with the management of the theatre house.

“We could buy the theatre, Will. Just us, the men. We can invest in it and make it ours. No rent, no struggle, all the profits in our pocket,” he said hopeful. Richard had always been a dreamer.

“How much are we talking about?” I asked brutishly.

“About fifty.”

“Fifty pounds?” I screeched in awe.

He raised his eyebrows, surprised.

“Come on Will, don’t tell me you don’t have the money after all these years.”

“Actually, I don’t, Richard,” I responded abruptly.

“The most famous playwright in London?” he asked incredulously. “Not to mention the years of the plague.”

He was careful enough not to mention the Earl, and I felt grateful for that kindness, lowering my tone to explain my finances.

“Rich, I just bought Anne a house. Sixty pounds it cost me and another twenty for her to buy all she wants. There is no money left,” I answered honestly.

“Oh,” he simply murmured. “Well, it was just a thought. We are still in talks, we have another month.”

I nodded. There was something lingering between us left unsaid and I could feel the tension hanging on Richard.

“Is there something else?” I pushed.

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