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Chelsea Handler Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang (epub
Brit Brinson [Dia of the Dead Dia of the Dead (epub)
Cody Goodfellow [Radiant Dawn Radiant Dawn (epub)
Cate Tiernan [Immortal Belove Immortal Beloved (epub)
C J Busby [Deep Amber 01] Deep Amber (retail) (epub)
Carl Ashmore [Time Hunters 01 The Time Hunters (epub)
Drew Hayes [Super Powereds 02 Super Powereds Year 2 (epub) i
Beth Harbison [Shoe Addict 02 Secrets of a Shoe Addict (epub)
Cara Lynn Shultz [Dark World The Dark World (retail) (epub)
Clancy Tom Zwiadowcy 003 Walka kolowa

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.It didn’t seem to suit him, nor he it.Suzanne wasn’t certain she agreed with Horatio’s decision to let Louis play such a prominent character, but there seemed little alternative.Of the truly talented New Globe actors within arm’s reach of Romeo’s age, Matthew was just a little too long in the tooth and far too large and gruff, and Christian, at barely ten, not nearly old enough yet.So Suzanne had said nothing, and let the casting stand.Horatio, who had named himself for Hamlet’s friend, knew his Shakespeare.Surely he would know how to draw a suitable Romeo out of Louis.But at that moment Horatio appeared ready to tear his wig from his bald head in frustration at his immature and inexperienced leading man.Everyone could sense it, and the tension added to Louis’s distraction.At some point earlier in the rehearsal, Louis had begun stammering his lines and didn’t know how to stop it.As if he’d forgotten what to say, and he was the only one who couldn’t hear his hesitation.Each time Horatio stopped him to tell him to smooth his delivery, Louis only gave him a puzzled look and returned to his stammer.Horatio stopped him again, and frustration grew.One of them was sure to go off like Scottish artillery very soon if this continued.Suzanne sat up in her chair and leaned over the rail to shout down to the stage.“Horatio!”The large man turned to peer up at her, his wig slightly askew.He had no hair at all beneath it for traction to keep it secured to his head, and it was ever crooked, dislodged by the motion of his wildly gesticulating arms as he advised his actors.Even when conversing normally, he couldn’t keep his arms still.She told him, “Perhaps the group rehearsing in the green room could do with a bit of supervision.Why don’t you go see how they’re coming along?”Horatio opened his mouth to reply, with a look that told her he wished she would tend to her own affairs, but thought better of saying so and clapped it shut.Then he opened it again and said mildly with a slight nod of a bow, “Your wish is my command, my niece.” He turned to the cluster on the stage, said something to Louis, and moved off at a lumber, upstage and toward the ’tiring house.Suzanne was about to tell Louis to proceed with the rehearsal, when there came a rapping on the large entrance doors at the front of the theatre.The actors turned toward them, unsure what to do, for visitors at this time of day usually meant something was wrong, and several of them would head for the bolt-hole at the rear of the ’tiring house if they thought the knock were meant for them.Having but two entrances was good for keeping out nonpaying audience, though it made the theatre a trap for anyone inside pursued by the authorities or creditors.In Suzanne’s experience, any visitor at any time who was not there to see a play invariably brought bad news.The time was not yet noon, and the audience wouldn’t be let in for that afternoon’s performance until half past two.Everyone in the city knew that all theatre performances began at three or thereabouts, and for anyone who didn’t know, there was an enormous bill posted on the wall outside saying so.Suzanne leaned over the rail, trying to see the doors below her, though she knew they were too far back under the gallery to be visible.The rapping came again, and so she withdrew into the gallery once more and hurried down the spiral stairs to the ground floor.By the time she got there Louis and Matthew, who had the role of Mercutio, were already lifting the bolt to open the doors.Liza, this year’s Juliet, remained where she was, high in the stage right gallery which stood for the balcony in the play.To come down and see what was going on, she would have had to go down the winding back stairs to the ’tiring room and out to the stage, and might have missed something during that long trek.She chose to watch from the gallery railing as Louis hauled open the large, heavy door a crack and peeked out.“What’s your business?” said Louis.The voice from outside was unintelligible to Suzanne.She said, “Louis, let him in.”He said to the voice, “Tell your business.”“Louis, let him in.I can’t hear him out there.”With a show of reluctance, Louis hauled the door wide enough to allow the visitor to enter.In stepped a man in a skirt.Not just a skirt, but a checkered one that barely covered his knees.The woolen fabric of it overflowed his belt so lavishly that he threw the excess over his shoulder like a cape or shawl.Suzanne had seen a kilt once before, but that had been a dull brown with black threads running through it.This luxurious garment was a stunning red with green, black, and yellow crisscrossing in large squares.The fabric was clean and appeared new, a rare thing in this neighborhood, and in her experience almost an oddity in a Scot.Beneath the kilt the visitor wore a clean white shirt that was equally stiff and fresh.His belt was dyed shiny black and bore a large, silver buckle wrought so finely as to bespeak a great deal of wealth.As did the sword that hung at his side from a black leather baldric.A utility dagger with a plain wooden handle was thrust into his belt without scabbard.For shoes he wore only soft leather without ornament or heel, and no leggings at all.It begged the question of what linens he might be wearing beneath the kilted wool, and though there had once been a time when Suzanne might have simply lifted the hem to find out, today she refrained for the sake of proving herself no longer a tart.At her age, that sort of behavior was less than amusing to most men and should be left to women far younger and more comely than herself.And besides, this man’s face caught her attention and held it.He had the black Irish coloring she’d always found appealing, with jet black hair, pale skin, and warm, ruddy cheeks.His mouth was red, and appeared to have the sort of habitual smile that made some people seem happy all the time.In addition, this man was actually smiling.His charm was palpable, and Suzanne felt if she stood in his presence long enough she would soon be covered in it, like spring pollen.He looked straight into her eyes and said, “I’ve come for an audition.”Suzanne blinked, surprised.This man appeared far too wealthy to need employment as an actor.Theatre was something one did when desperate and only when without skills other than lying.Certainly that was how she herself had ended up here.In the general scheme of things, acting was thought by most people as one step down from military service, one step up from thievery, and just around the corner from murder for hire.The wealth and beauty she saw standing before her was almost never found onstage.Their visitor continued, in a rich, rolling brogue, “My name is Diarmid Ramsay, and I’ve been told you’ve a need for someone to play the title role in Macbeth.”This was news to Suzanne.That play was one the troupe had not yet addressed, and she’d not heard mention of it from Horatio.She turned to call him from the ’tiring house, and found he’d not left the stage.He was still there, staring at the brightly dressed Scot as if fascinated by the busy tartan wool.“Horatio!” she called.“Have you put out an audition notice regarding Macbeth?”“I expect you mean the Scottish play.” An odd stress in his voice puzzled her, and he crossed himself as if she’d uttered a curse.When he kissed the wooden crucifix he wore around his neck, she knew she’d truly frightened him.Oh, right [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]