Perhaps the mud has swallowed up the rest of the world.
Perhaps I will die here, having never been anything, after all.
Enter SEATON, with LESLEY.
SEATON. Your Grace – the Bishop of Ross has returned from Whitehall.
MARY 1. John!
LESLEY (bowing). Your Grace.
MARY 1. What was it like?
LESLEY. It is certainly an impressive palace. There are two thousand rooms.
LIVINGSTON. Two thousand!
LESLEY. Though many of them are small. The decorations are superb – there is a portrait of King Henry VIII on the wall that is larger than the man himself – rather confusing if you happen upon it, because you think you’ve seen a ghost.
They cross themselves.
MARY 1. Tell me everything she said.
LESLEY. She asked about your habits. I told her about the embroidery. She seemed concerned for your welfare. She worried that you did not have enough to do all day.
MARY 1. Did she change her mind about me staying indoors?
LESLEY. I’m afraid not, Your Grace. Walsingham was there, and I think he is not an advocate of your cause.
MARY 1. He is a hateful man. Afraid of the true faith.
LESLEY. Your Grace, there is something else. I met the Duke of Norfolk in Whitehall, and we spoke.
MARY 1. Norfolk? He has written to me before, he is sympathetic to us.
LESLEY. More than sympathetic – while he was in York earlier in the year he was approached by several nobles who suggested that he… unite with you.
MARY 1. Unite?
LESLEY. In marriage, Your Grace. They say your present marriage can be annulled.
MARY 1. Which nobles?
LESLEY. The Earls of Leicester and of Pembroke are in favour. And the Scottish Regent.
MARY 1. My brother agrees?
LESLEY. He says, if the marriage were to take place, he would support your restoration to the Scottish throne.
MARY 1. What does the Queen say?
LESLEY. She has not yet been approached. Norfolk feels the time is not right – he is courting her good will and when appropriate, he will delicately ask her permission.
MARY 1. I do not require the permission of anyone to marry.
LESLEY. But he does, madam. It would be dangerous for you to go ahead without her consent.
MARY 1. How timid these men are!
LESLEY. I saw it for myself, Your Grace, the Queen is a fearsome woman. She knows her own mind.
MARY 1. What is he like, this duke?
LESLEY. You would like him, I think. He is well-favoured, pleasant, the most eligible man in the kingdom. As the cousin of Queen Elizabeth, he would expect to be named king.
MARY 1. I see.
LESLEY. I showed him the picture of you and he commented most gallantly on your beauty and how your letters showed you to be a remarkable, intelligent woman. I think it is a way out for us.
MARY 1. It could be done.
LESLEY. I think so too.
MARY 1. I would like to consider it. I will write to friends in Scotland and ask them their opinion.
LESLEY. Of course.
MARY 1. I will send you word of my decision.
They exit.
Scene Three
BESS 2, BESS 1, holding a letter, and GEORGE.
BESS 2. I ask to speak to George in private, after supper.
BESS 1. Cecily has intercepted this letter from Mary.
GEORGE. Intercepted? We should not be / reading –
BESS 1. I think you should look at it.
She hands him the letter. She watches him reading it, while BESS 2 talks to the audience.
BESS 2. I met George once, when we were children, at a ball. He does not remember it, although he pretends to. I was nobody then.
The room was hot and full and I was not dressed as well as the other girls. My mother whispered in my ear that that boy over there was the future Earl of Shrewsbury. Probably the richest person in the room, and he was only eleven. He was already betrothed to an earl’s daughter. For the entire evening, he had to stay with his future bride.
I watched them, standing rigid for hours, gripping each other’s hands, looking straight ahead. They never spoke.
That was when I decided that, if possible, if there was ever any chance to marry for love, I would take it. Because pretending is no way to live.
GEORGE. I don’t think there is any harm in it.
BESS 1. Have you fully understood what she is saying?
GEORGE. Yes – she fears for her life, of course she does –
BESS 1. She is trying to arrange a marriage, George.
GEORGE. That’s impossible –
BESS 1. Read it again.
GEORGE. Her handwriting is lamentable.
BESS 1. It must have been written in haste. I will get it copied and sent to Walsingham.
GEORGE. I don’t think we / should –
BESS 1. He insisted he see all her correspondence.
GEORGE. But –
BESS 1. Someone has suggested to her – the Bishop of Ross, I imagine – that a marriage to the Duke of Norfolk might solve all her problems.
GEORGE. The Duke of Norfolk? It’s not a bad idea.
BESS 1. In which case, telling Walsingham will do no harm.
GEORGE. It will cause unnecessary concern. Perhaps I shall speak to her, ask her not to mention such things under my roof. She seems most reasonable –
BESS 1. Why are you defending her?
GEORGE. I am not – defending –
BESS 1. You should be more cautious –
GEORGE. Bess! This endless questioning of my decisions. I wish it to stop.
Beat.
BESS 1. Forgive me. I’m tired.
GEORGE. You work late too often. You are like a night owl.
BESS 1. That’s what William used to say.
Pause. She regrets saying that; he regrets hearing it.
I’m sorry –
GEORGE. Goodnight.
He exits.
BESS 1 sits, lost in thought.
BESS 2. I was lucky; I did marry for love.
The problem is, he died, and I had to marry again.
BESS 1. Cecily?
BESS 2. I remember Elizabeth when she was a girl and I was at her Court. The gossiping, the talk of sleeves and skirts. The Duke of Norfolk used to beg me to mention his name in her presence. What power we had then, and we did not know it!
Now he plots her overthrow, while others turn a blind eye because they are infatuated. I do not see why she should be kept in the dark.
Enter CECILY.
CECILY. Yes, my lady?
BESS 1. Please deliver this to Lord Walsingham’s man in The Dog and Partridge tomorrow morning. Don’t tell anyone.
CECILY. Very good, madam.
Exit CECILY.
BESS 2. She did not choose this. I think she has a right to know what is happening.
Exit BESS 1 and BESS 2.
Scene Four
ROSE 2 talks to the audience.
ROSE 1 sits on the floor facing an imaginary picture.
ROSE 2. It’s very odd, being inside all night, when you’re used to napping in doorways. I’m supposed to lie down on the floor with the other maids on a sort of straw-pallet thing but I’d never noticed before how weird other people look when they’re asleep. Put me off.
So instead, I decide to learn about art. There’s paintings and tapestries everywhere and I study them, one by one. It’s like a space has opened up in my brain, that wasn’t there before, and I fill it with paint and stitches.
This one’s a picture of William Cavendish, the Countess’s previous husband. Handsome fella: red hair, incredibly curly moustache. I’m noticing the shadows under the nose and in the curls of his ruff. He looks sad, like he knows he’s gonna die before his time.
She doesn’t sleep either. So sometimes she comes in and we pretend it’s all totally normal.
Enter
/> BESS 1. ROSE 1 jumps up and curtseys.
ROSE 1. D’you need anything, my lady?
BESS 1. No, thank you, Rose, goodnight.
ROSE 1. Night, madam.
Exit BESS 1.
ROSE 2. But gradually we get used to each other, and we stop pretending. In the daytime she’s my mistress and I’ve got to do whatever she wants, but at night, we’re just two cold bodies looking at stuff on a wall.
Enter BESS 1. She stands behind ROSE 1 and they face the audience, looking together at a new tapestry.
ROSE 1. What’s her name?
BESS 1. Penelope.
ROSE 1. Why’s she standing like that, with her hand out?
BESS 1. It’s a story from Ancient Greece. Her husband, Odysseus, went to war and never came back. For twenty years she waited. She could not believe that he had gone, he was her soul. Without him she thought she was nothing.
Enter GEORGE, unseen.
But because she was a queen, they would not leave her alone. They told her she must marry again, spend her nights with another man, even though the very thought –
Grief has flooded BESS 1’s face. Beat.
The very thought made her shudder.
GEORGE. Bess.
BESS 1 (guiltily). Goodnight, Rose.
ROSE 1. Night, my lady.
BESS 1 exits with GEORGE. Before she goes, she hands ROSE 1 a package.
ROSE 2 (as ROSE 1 looks at the package). Parchment, quills. I make a start.
ROSE 1 sketches. Sometimes her sketches do not work – in which case she crosses it out and starts again. Sometimes they are successful.
Just simple stuff: outline drawings of everything I can find – fruit from the pantry, the stable cat, a sleeping groom.
I’ve got this feeling I’ve not had before. I think it might be joy.
It’s like I’ve found myself. My voice, or something. And it’s all come from her. She’s amazing. It’s like – she’s my real mother.
The nights go by, and I never get tired. I just draw.
One night, she comes back and starts talking to me again.
Enter BESS 1. She stands behind ROSE 1 and looks at the picture of Penelope.
ROSE 1. What happened to Penelope?
BESS 1. She was clever. She told her suitors she would weave a tapestry for her husband, and when it was finished, she would marry one of them. Every day she sat by her loom, weaving, but every night, she crept out and unstitched it.
ROSE 1. And did her fella come back?
BESS 1. Just when she was about to give up hope, he came home, and they were reunited. They spent the night together, and in the morning he killed the suitors, every single one.
ROSE 1. S’harsh.
BESS 1. They did not understand, you see, that what is stitched with a needle is not always innocent. Because the rhythm is slow, and gentle, and the action performed by a woman, they were deceived. Needles are dangerous.
Beat.
ROSE 1. I have to be an artist.
BESS 1. I know. You will.
ROSE 2. So I practised. And sometimes she was there, watching me.
And once, when I turned round suddenly, I saw tears in her eyes.
ROSE 1 turns around and looks at BESS 1.
ROSE 1. Are you alright, my lady?
BESS 1 (turning away). Of course.
ROSE 2. And I dunno why, but there’s grief there, as thick as these walls.
It’s like she’s cracking up, and only I can see it.
And I – sort of – love her.
BESS 1. Rose. I want to show you something.
ROSE 2. She takes me to a corner of the castle, where there’s this door that’s normally locked. And we go in.
ROSE 1 stares at the room. She is astonished.
Floor to ceiling, wall to wall, shelf after shelf filled with identical boxes.
ROSE 1. What is this?
BESS 1. My accounts room. There’s a box for every house, and one for every servant, listed alphabetically by name. Every receipt, every invoice, every household budget for fourteen estates, our children, even our poor lost baby, Temperance. A box for them all.
ROSE 1. But… why?
BESS 1. My second husband, William Cavendish, liked to keep careful accounts. He taught me how. At first it just seemed like a good way to remember him, to keep it all going. Once I’d started I couldn’t stop.
ROSE 1. Is this what you do all night?
Can’t imagine the Earl is all that pleased.
Beat.
BESS 1. How is your progress – can you draw a decent fish, or a tiger?
ROSE 1. I think so.
BESS 1. Well done. I will send you upstairs tomorrow.
ROSE 1. What for?
BESS 1. I believe Mary is trying to arrange a… connection… of some kind.
ROSE 1. Connection?
BESS 1. She inspires devotion. You must find out what she says when I am not in the room. Then at night we will meet here, and you can tell me.
ROSE 1. I dunno if I’m cut out for spying… Not cos I don’t wanna help you, I do – it’s just… .. She’s a queen. I mean, she speaks Latin. She’ll see me coming a mile off.
BESS 1. I need you, Rose. I want you to swear that you will watch her without ceasing, without sleeping, if necessary, and if she so much as dreams a dream, you will tell me.
ROSE 1. Steady on –
BESS 1. We are talking about treason. I need to know if Mary, Queen of Scots dreams of treason. And I need you to trust me. You must trust me.
Beat.
ROSE 1. Alright.
ROSE 2. So I make a promise to a countess that I will completely fail to keep.
They exit.
Scene Five
Whitehall, late in the night.
ELIZABETH and WALSINGHAM stride in, followed by the WAITING LADIES, who watch helplessly while they row.
WALSINGHAM. Your Majesty, I urge you to reconsider.
ELIZABETH. It’s getting late –
WALSINGHAM. England will not be safe until you are married –
ELIZABETH. Being married is no guarantee of safety. Look at my sister.
WALSINGHAM. But while you are not married, half the country assumes that the next monarch will be Mary, a Catholic –
ELIZABETH. I am aware of that –
WALSINGHAM. The first rule of kingship: never give the people an option. If you present them with an alternative ruler, they will feel obliged to make a choice, and it will not be you. In Tutbury Castle right now is a young woman –
ELIZABETH (furious). Less of the young! –
WALSINGHAM (brutally). A young, charming, fertile woman – your cousin – who has married three times already and given birth to a healthy son. It’s as if you are asking everyone to doubt you.
ELIZABETH. But I do not want it! The pawing and the touching and the getting in the way of my work.
WALSINGHAM. Your private concerns should not –
ELIZABETH. Prevent me from doing my duty. I know.
Beat.
Anyway, what can she do?
WALSINGHAM. There are nobles who think she should marry again.
ELIZABETH. She is married already –
WALSINGHAM. They believe the marriage to Bothwell was forced and she can have it annulled.
ELIZABETH. Who would she – ?
WALSINGHAM. The rumour is. The Duke of Norfolk.
ELIZABETH. Thomas? He would not dare.
WALSINGHAM. She has been writing about it in her letters – Lady Shrewsbury has sent copies –
He hands her a letter. She barely glances at it.
ELIZABETH. He would have told me.
WALSINGHAM. Would he?
ELIZABETH. Of course – I am his queen. He is loyal to me, he would never… It would be like stabbing at me while my back is turned.
WALSINGHAM. You should speak to him. If he marries Mary and becomes the King of Scotland he will be in direct competition to your throne.
ELIZABETH. I
have the heart and stomach of a king – why is it not enough?
WALSINGHAM. You have the body of a woman, Your Majesty. It is never enough.
Beat.
It grieves me that I vex you. But I have one task in this life, and that is to secure your safety. It is all I think about, from sunrise to night.
ELIZABETH. Your poor wife.
WALSINGHAM. Yes.
Beat.
ELIZABETH. Send for Norfolk.
WALSINGHAM. Thank you.
ELIZABETH. And no more letters. Tell Shrewsbury, all correspondence is forbidden from now on.
WALSINGHAM bows and exits.
Pause. ELIZABETH sags, exhausted.
Cautiously, the WAITING LADIES approach her. Gently, they start to peel off her outer clothes, perhaps to loosen her wig, under which her hair is very short or altogether bald. One of them tenderly wipes her face with a cloth, removing the thick white make-up.
WAITING LADY. This is the moment we are closest to her, when we take off the outer face, and let her skin breathe.
WAITING LADY. She wears lotion to cover up the pockmarks scattered across her face. She doesn’t like anyone to see them –
WAITING LADY. Apart from us.
WAITING LADY. We nursed her through the smallpox.
WAITING LADY. So we caught it too.
WAITING LADY. We are all bound together in our scars.
Beat. They look at her. She looks vulnerable, a little afraid, human.
WAITING LADY. She is thinking of Mary.
WAITING LADY. She cannot believe she has imprisoned her own cousin.
WAITING LADY. She is remembering the time she was a prisoner herself, in the Tower of London.
WAITING LADY. Interrogated for hours at a time.
WAITING LADY. Made to kneel in front of men who screamed at her, and hauled her about by the hair, until she felt as though her dignity was a dry stream.
WAITING LADY. We were there with her, you see, so we know.
WAITING LADY. We remember the games she played, just to survive.
WAITING LADY. The letters she wrote, the promises she made, the way she made her guards confused and anxious.
WAITING LADY. And now, she wonders, what games is Mary playing, right now? What is she doing, just to survive?
They help ELIZABETH offstage, to bed.
Scene Six
MARY 1 is huddled on the floor, alone, though MARY 2 is with her.
MARY 2. I am dreaming.
The Glove Thief Page 5
