you don't love him, hoping that he'll believe you and give up. Also, you've just signed his death sentence, and that's a factor too, however small it may seem to you. BETSY I thought it was to lessen his pain. WILLIAM What, to kill him? BETSY No, to tell him I don't love him. WILLIAM No. First of all, this will only increase his pain, if anything. Second of all, in love, when a sacrifice is being made, people think only of themselves. It's a kind of self-preserving selfishness. Know what I mean? Suffering for both yourself and your lover is more than any human heart could take. So, once again, with feeling. BETSY I.... What? WILLIAM Have another go at it. I'm listening. Betsy looks at him in astonishment. He makes a face. She looks at the page again, collects her nerve, takes a deep breath. BETSY I am a princess, sir. A heart of ice Beats in my chest. I cannot love as freely As common people do. The sacred duty Of monarchs is to be equally suave Towards everyone. At the last line, enter Lionel, picking up the thread quickly. LIONEL Even your former lover! BETSY (startled, continues) That, sir, is one big subject we shall not Discuss at length; since you're a man of sense And delicate, and tactful, and devoted, You'll never be so crude as to remind me Of childish pranks in which, children of nature, We used so indiscreetly to indulge. LIONEL (hotly) A year has not elapsed since in my arms I held you last. BETSY My Lord, be kind to me. LIONEL Your hair against my cheek, your hand in mine, Your name upon my lips. BETSY But will you listen To reason, sir? LIONEL If reason be this coldness, This artful fancy, this unGodly treason Of everything I cherish in this world, Then, by your leave, madam, I will not listen. BETSY I've signed your sentence, sir. Tomorrow morning You'll die. Your Cleopatra is no longer A helpless child. No morbid protestations Will help your lot. LIONEL Are we holding an audition here? WILLIAM (who was quite taken in, and is now startled back into reality) Oh. I'm sorry. What an interesting piece, after all. LIONEL Yes. I ran across a copy once and couldn't tear myself away. A bit too melodramatic, if you ask me, but quite captivating. Who wrote it, any idea? WILLIAM One of our company's actors, I would imagine. Lionel laughs. Betsy is eager to know William's opinion and is quite annoyed by Lionel's presence. BETSY (to Lionel) Thank you for bearing me out, sir. LIONEL (smiling) You're most welcome, my boy. WILLIAM What an idea, though! Not bad at all. (walks over to Betsy, inspects her appearance critically) Yes. I think this just might work. Except.... LIONEL Er.... William, I believe? WILLIAM Yes. LIONEL Of Lord Chamberlain's Men? WILLIAM Yes. LIONEL Ah, good. You do know who I am, do you not? WILLIAM Well, yes, of course. Lionel Collins, the actor. LIONEL The best one in the whole city. BETSY (delightedly) Oh! You are Lionel Collins! Oh, how wonderful! I thought it was you, but I couldn't be sure. Oh, I saw you in Tamburlaine, you were magnificent! LIONEL Betsy, are you sick or something? BETSY Sir? LIONEL You're not doing this, Betsy. Whatever it is you're up to, it's just a new whim of yours, as usual. I'm here to audition, and it is extremely important for me to get accepted, and you're in the way. Please get out. Girls don't act in plays. If you'd kindly excuse us.... WILLIAM I beg your pardon. LIONEL Oh, yes. I am here to audition. Does this surprise you? It is so, nevertheless. BETSY (to Lionel) I'm not leaving until he says I should. (indicates William) WILLIAM You wish to join our company. LIONEL That's correct. BETSY (finally realizes this) Oh, but you must be mad, Lionel. Are you serious? You mean, you're going to leave Mom's theatre and join these vagrants? LIONEL Well, you want to join them too, right? BETSY I'm only a beginner. One has to start somewhere. LIONEL (waves her off, to William) Sir, I believe your company is the only one in town in which I would be able fully to utilize my considerable skills. Permit me to join it. If you don't have any openings for leads at the moment, fine, I'll take any role. If not, I could work as a prompter. WILLIAM Well.... I'm afraid I'm not qualified to make such decisions.... LIONEL Oh yes you are. And remember, my presence alone can draw a thousand people into your theatre even on the coldest of all afternoons. Am I hired? WILLIAM But, sir, you are speaking to the wrong person, I assure you. I'm just a poor second-rate actor. You must speak to the manager, really. LIONEL I'm sure you could handle the manager for me if you wished to do so. You have more leverage around this place than you let on, and don't ask me how I know this, I just do. I press my question. Am I hired? WILLIAM I.... Enter the Man In Black rapidly. He scans the room, draws his sword, goes to the door stage-right, pushing William rudely out of the way with one hand. He kicks the door, looks in, comes back, grabs William by the throat. THE MAN IN BLACK Where is he? Huh? Where's that abominable, despicable rat, that vile, treacherous friend of yours? Answer me, you vermin! WILLIAM (struggling to get free) What friend? What are you talking.... about.... THE MAN IN BLACK Your poetic friend. Master Christopher. Where is he? Huh? WILLIAM I don't know! THE MAN IN BLACK Oh, you don't know, huh! He shoves William on the floor. LIONEL Excuse me, sir.... THE MAN IN BLACK (to William) I give you exactly one second to make up your filthy mind as to whether you want to.... LIONEL (impressively) Excuse me, sir! The Man In Black dashes for him with the intention to punch but stops abruptly, seeing that there is a pistol in Lionel's hand. BETSY (to the Man In Black) Do be sensible, sir. Believe me, he won't think twice about shooting you, he's very cruel and insensitive and has no conscience whatever. All he wants is attention, and you'd better give him some. I'm speaking from experience. LIONEL (to the Man In Black) Do please remove your mask, sir. It's impolite, walking around in a mask, thinking that the whole world is but a mask ball. Away with it. The Man In Black stares at Lionel. He is outraged and stomps his foot impatiently. BETSY Oh, please, sir, do as he asks. It won't kill you if you take that mask off, You can always put it back on afterwards. The Man In Black removes the mask. LIONEL Well well well, what do you know! Young Warwick, in person. How's your dear old uncle, is he all right? You weren't brought up properly, Warwick. Do you forget the old English saying that a man's home is his castle? THE MAN IN BLACK You'll hang for this, Master Lionel, or whatever your proper name's supposed to be. I don't care who you really are. It is not entirely clear yet what part you played in the Warwick plot. But marginal evidence is easily procured against anyone these days. I mean, anyone. Is that clear, Lionel? LIONEL Mister Collins, if you don't mind. Anyway, I will not hang for this, as you put it, simply because in order to hang me, you'd have to explain to a lot of people how and why you - a member o the Secret Service, special training and all - were put off your course by a vagabond actor who, however brilliant, handsome, resourceful, and witty - for I am all of those things - is nevertheless merely an actor. Let me emphasize this. Merely an actor. (smiles radiantly) As to some plot or other, that's pure libel, for which you can be sued. Now, we have some business still to transact, William and I. You interrupted us. Please leave now, and make sure I don't find you waiting up for me around the corner with your dagger drawn; you might not like what happens to you if I do. A pause. BETSY Do as he says, sir. You can't imagine how vicious and treacherous this man can be. If you had to go through everything I go through because of him, you'd know better than contradict him, believe me. The man is a perfect monster. THE MAN IN BLACK Now, look. All I need to know is where Christopher is. I swear no harm will come to anyone here if you could just tell me where to find him. LIONEL Well, William did tell you just then that he doesn't know, did he not? THE MAN IN BLACK William's lying. LIONEL That, sir, is your own fault. You forced him with your rudeness and your threats. Instead of merely not telling you, he had to lie. Enter the Woman In Black. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Robert. THE MAN IN BLACK Er.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK What are you doing here? THE MAN IN BLACK Looking for Chris. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Go to the palace immediately. Lord Chamberlain wants to see you. There's news from Walter. THE MAN IN BLACK I.... LIONEL (lowering his pistol) Don't you have any manners, you brainless sack of shit? The lady wants you to leave. THE MAN IN BLACK (to the Woman In Black) Madam.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK (coldly, with near-fury) Robert, please just do as you're told. THE MAN IN BLACK Very well. He bows to her; casts a threatening glance at Lionel; gets an exaggeratedly threatening glance back; and exits quickly stage-left. The Woman In Black smiles at Lionel. They exchange a rapid humorous glance. Lionel smiles back, his eyes sparkling. THE WOMAN IN BLACK (to Lionel) I apologize for Robert's behavior, Master William. By the way, you do resemble someone.... Oh, of course - Lionel Collins, the player, the lover of the Duchess of Mulberry, and Warwick's confidant.... LIONEL (suppressing a laugh) As a matter of fact, Madam, I am Lionel Collins. As to the other things you've mentioned.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK (suppressing a giggle) You are? (looks at the other two) LIONEL ....I'm here particularly because I'm trying to severe certain links and disassociate myself altogether from certain ugly events which seem to have stained my reputation somewhat. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Oh. (to William, smiling) You are, then.... LIONEL (interrupting cheerfully) I see that I've been libeled; however, I've never been involved in any plots, nor have I ever been Lord Warwick's confidant; the best proof of which is the fact that I'm here, auditioning for Master William with an eye to joining his company. I covet no riches. I'm only a humble player who is happy in his trade and wishes nothing more than to be allowed to practice it. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Master William? WILLIAM That is my name, Madam. A pause. THE WOMAN IN BLACK (looking at Betsy) And? BETSY I'm.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK How very curious. How's Mom, all right? I do so hope she's well. Anyway, Mr. Collins, you're rather a clever person, I admit. Now, Master William, you are an author, I believe? WILLIAM I? THE WOMAN IN BLACK Yes, you. Personally. WILLIAM Er, yes, sort of. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Some of your poetry is quite beautiful, if a bit simplistic. However, you also write plays. There's one I remember in particular; the one about a certain member of the York branch in which your political views were set forth, especially in regard to the pretenders. You don't seem to sympathize with the Yorks, then? WILLIAM Madam, I.... (shakes his head) I'm merely an artist.... I'm not allowed to take sides. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Oh, Master William! WILLIAM (frowning) I.... That man who was here.... Chris. He's after Chris. THE WOMAN IN BLACK You have no beliefs, then? No convictions whatsoever? WILLIAM Er.... Well, not exactly. I believe.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK Yes? WILLIAM I believe in God. THE WOMAN IN BLACK And? WILLIAM (resolutely) I believe that no true believer must ever take sides. Madam, Chris is.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK (skeptically) Where does it say so? WILLIAM (decided) Madam, one can either love one's neighbor or participate in plots. One cannot do both. I think.... that, while struggling to right herself politically.... (looks down at the table, picks up a sheet absently) ....England has been ignoring matters of far greater importance than one's right to own; sacrificing far grander concepts than one's right to gain. We are a peaceful race torn apart by hatred; a nation so deeply immersed in hypocrisy that we can no longer face ourselves in a looking-glass. Now, that's not what Our Lord's own Son came down to die for. We have long forgotten what love is. I.... The Woman In Black sits slowly, watching William. Lionel is smiling sheepishly, looking sideways. Betsy is wide-eyed. No one dares to love any longer, for love and fear, love and hypocrisy, love and mistrust do not.... er.... mix easily. Our women no longer abandon themselves utterly to their husbands; and the husbands have become unworthy of their wives' love. We have a frigid bitch on the throne.... Lionel turns away and rolls his eyes. Betsy closes her eyes and expects to die. The Woman In Black raises her head haughtily. ....who separates lovers, who sets father against son and brother against brother only to satisfy her malicious humor.... And yet, I pity her.... She has never experienced true love. No woman is born frigid. They become so when they refuse to trust their lovers. I.... had a mistress once.... I was seventeen. She was a beautiful creature, but she counted heavily on my seemingly imminent rise in the world of trade. Even in her happiest moments, at night, with her eyes closed, her mouth open, her hips thrashing, she kept thinking of the five or so shops I was going to manage soon in my father's name. When it finally dawned on her that I had other ideas regarding my career, she left. Reluctantly, painfully - but she left me after making love to me one last time - and that night was absolutely the worst in my admittedly limited experience. LIONEL A little personal touch. Suddenly, William frowns as if remembering something. The three are watching him. He turns and walks over to the basin. He grabs the pick and starts working it again. General consternation. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Er.... Excuse me? LIONEL He's slightly off his rocker. Most authors are rather eccentric. BETSY (sincerely) Poor guy. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Master William! Suddenly, William drops the pick and crosses over to the Woman In Black as if struck by a brilliant new idea. She is tempted to back away from him, chair and all. Preoccupied, he is all urgency. WILLIAM You know, a friend of mine is in trouble. He made a single error when he was very, very young. They want to kill him now. This must be prevented somehow. He is said to have taken part in some plot or other. That's nonsense. I know for a fact that he's been writing a new play these past four months. I've read bits of it, it's a grand little thing. It's physically impossible to write like that and take part in conspiracies at the same time. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Why are you telling me all this? WILLIAM Besides, he's really quite harmless. He's a ham, a poseur, a natural. He loves theatrics, he's fond of practical jokes, he makes it his business to be thought of as big and bad and mean. But.... I've known him for a couple of years now.... He's a coward. We are taught to disdain cowards. We adore tyrants, we glorify murderers, we find ways to justify the thief and the rapist. Cowards we shun. Until we suddenly find out that most people, including ourselves, are cowards. That's when we begin to hate them. But.... Cowards are gentler and sweeter than the brave man, who tends to be cruel and heartless. Cowards are more thoughtful that heroes who are customarily bone-headed. Chris is a coward. Only a person who has known fear can describe it. Please, he must be spared. A pause. The Woman In Black rises. She is an inch taller than William. She looks him in the face. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Young man, I forgive you your rashness and your meddling in affairs that do not at all concern you. There are things still beyond your perception. But you must be very careful in the future. William and the Woman In Black glare at each other. Quietly, stealthily, Lionel gets hold of Betsy's hand and pulls her towards the exit. Betsy, fascinated by the confrontation, is at first annoyed, then surprised. At last, confusion. Half-heartedly, she lets Lionel lead her away. They exit quietly. WILLIAM Why should I? So that, sooner or later, I could become the Queen's lover, as Chris once was; and then be sacrificed to one cause or another, as he is about to be sacrificed? THE WOMAN IN BLACK (haughtily and gravely) He was never the Queen's lover. WILLIAM No, of course not. The Queen has no sense of humor. THE WOMAN IN BLACK What's that supposed to mean? WILLIAM She does not see how denying the obvious can be comical. The Woman In Black rises. They stand facing each other. THE WOMAN IN BLACK You know, Master William, those words alone are enough to have you broken on the wheel. William is visibly shaken. He steps back, looks away. WILLIAM I didn't mean to insult Her Majesty. THE WOMAN IN BLACK One must always remember his place. WILLIAM Yes. The Woman In Black hesitates. Now that he is subdued, he is far less interesting than when he was insolent. Suddenly, she smiles. THE WOMAN IN BLACK We'll let it slide. Deep down in your heart, you're as loyal as anyone, I'm sure. A certain work of yours which has been brought to our attention shows that you're devoted to the Queen. Would you like an opportunity to prove your loyalty to her? WILLIAM Er.... I'm.... Do I have to prove it? I mean.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK So that there's no doubt. There is a special group, you see, a fraternity almost, which encompasses all stations of life; they are everywhere; each of them knows the Queen personally and serves her to the best of his abilities. Each is then rewarded according to his merits. You're welcome to join them, Master William, whenever you like. A pause. WILLIAM Strange. THE WOMAN IN BLACK What is? WILLIAM There are all kinds of trades out there; yet it never occurs to anyone to ask a carpenter to do anything other than carpeting; the farmer runs his farm; the horse breeder breeds horses; the general leads armies into battle. Only the artist is always asked to do things he is not naturally qualified for. Why? Because our work is lighter? No. It's oftentimes harder than most. Because they need us less than a good horse? No. People would rather be entertained than galloped over. Only today, I've already been asked to become a clerk, a farmer, and a manager in quick succession. Now I'm being asked to try my hand at spying. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Spying! Who's talking of spying? WILLIAM Man is a weak creature, Madam. Press me a little, and I'll be anything you like. You wish me to become a spy? I will. A farmer? Gladly. Anything. But will I be the same man when I quit writing? THE WOMAN IN BLACK Why should you quit writing? WILLIAM Because the two are incompatible, as Chris has demonstrated. So, it all depends on what the Queen really wants. Does she want poets to love her and to write her sonnets; or does she want snakes to bite people for her and to loathe her for it? Talent or servitude? Theatres or prisons? THE WOMAN IN BLACK Master William! WILLIAM Does she want artists to kiss her hand, or hypocrites to lick her boots? I'd probably make a fine bootlicker - I'm not as bad an actor as they say, after all. Well? Should I get down on all fours and lick it? He gets down and puts out his tongue. He crawls towards her. She steps back. He looks inquiringly up at her. She extends her hand and turns away. He rises, bends, and takes her hand. He kisses it and holds it in his own for a moment. She turns and looks at him. They look each other in the eye, William still bent over her hand. He straightens, still holding her hand. She inches closer to him and half-closes her eyes. She turns her face up to his. Please spare Chris, Your Majesty. She opens her eyes. She withdraws her hand and steps back. Again, they face each other. This time, William's gaze is cold and steady. The Woman In Black turns slowly around and exits stage-left. William stands motionless for a while. Presently, he turns and walks to the basin. He snatches the ice pick and delivers a splendid blow. He throws the pick down, reaches into the basin, and extracts the handkerchief. Triumphantly, he shows it to the audience. At last! Curtain. ACT TWO Scene One. Outside the Blackfriars. Enter the Woman In Black, followed by De Maisse and the Man In black. The Woman In Black is furious. She stops, leans on the Man In Block, and inspects disgustedly the sole of her left shoe. THE WOMAN IN BLACK This is an outrage. We ought to pass a law against this sort of thing. Stupid people, why don't they ever clean up after their ugly dogs! DE MAISSE A very good idea, Your Majesty. THE WOMAN IN BLACK (lets go of the Man In Black's shoulder) I'm very sorry, Monsieur De Maisse. We're not making a good impression on you, I'm afraid. DE MAISSE My diplomatic mission here, Madam, does not include gathering impressions. She smiles at his perfect composure and indicates the backdrop with a nod. THE WOMAN IN BLACK This is the Blackfriars, our best theatre. Looks a bit shabby. London is a very filthy, run-down city, wouldn't you say? To think that we could have all those loafers who have so much free time on their hands put to work cleaning the place up instead of engaging in hopeless conspiracies! THE MAN IN BLACK (smiling ominously) Madam, please. Our friend here is not really interested in our domestic squabbles. DE MAISSE Oh, don't mind me, I beg you. I'm quite used to the general atmosphere of this backwoods country by now. A pause. The Man In Black turns slowly and looks De Maisse in the eye. THE MAN IN BLACK What do you mean, exactly? DE MAISSE Please, sir, do not speak directly into my face. THE MAN IN BLACK (taunting him) Oh? And why not, may I ask? DE MAISSE Your breath, sir, stinks most abominably. You should rinse your mouth with salt water once in a while. THE MAN IN BLACK (furious) Don't tell me what to do, you French faggot! THE WOMAN IN BLACK Robert, please. I'm sorry, De Maisse, he.... THE MAN IN BLACK (incensed) I will not have foreigners fling insults at me. I've had one hell of a week, I'm tired, and this frog-eater here has the nerve to criticize me! If he doesn't like the way my breath smells, maybe he should smell his own ass once in a while.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK Robert! The Man In Black falls silent. De Maisse raises his eyebrows in genteel surprise. Now, they have.... De Maisse! Are you listening? DE MAISSE Yes, Madam. Turns his head to her politely. THE WOMAN IN BLACK They have a performance here tonight, so why don't we.... THE MAN IN BLACK (on an impulse) Why don't I just run him through, then. He draws his sword. De Maisse steps back calmly and draws his. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Gentlemen. DE MAISSE Be at your ease, Madame, this shall not take long. C'est bien, Monsieur. (throws himself on guard) Vive la France! They cross swords. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Robert, I'll pardon old Warwick and exile you if you don't stop at once. De Maisse, I'll find out from Henri your king who your current lover is and have him killed. They touch their swords a few more times reluctantly, think better of it, and stop. The Man In Black sheathes his sword disgustedly. De Maisse tries the point of his sword with his finger pensively, hesitates, but sheathes it all the same. Enter Julian carrying a scroll. Ah, hello there. JULIAN Your Majesty. Here's the bill of sale you requested. The Woman In Black takes it from him, inspects it, passes it to the Man In Black. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Robert, when you have the chance, give this to the person in whose rooms you made such a hysterical scene today. THE MAN IN BLACK Er.... Madam.... I haven't had a chance to speak with him yet. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Why would you want to speak with him? THE MAN IN BLACK Well, we can't just give him everything without requesting some services in return. With Chris gone, and until we find someone suitable, we might as well use his friend in the interim. THE WOMAN IN BLACK I don't think that such a good idea. He' not competent enough in these matters. I believe he'll be far more useful to us as merely a theatre manager and a writer of plays. (to Julian) My good man, you are, I believe, a servant of some sort in the duchess of Mulberry's House, in a way? JULIAN I do have the honor of.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK The theatre seems to have been occupying most of your time lately. JULIAN That is correct, Your Majesty. THE WOMAN IN BLACK But you are not a city person? JULIAN No, Your Majesty. I am a farmer. THE WOMAN IN BLACK I appreciate your cooperation. The Duchess will be very angry with you, I'm afraid. JULIAN Your Majesty promised me your protection. THE WOMAN IN BLACK I never go back on my word. As of today, you no longer belong to the Duchess. You will serve the throne directly. On Jolly Riggers Street, there is a house with a slanting red roof. Do you know it? Julian shudders and is reluctant to answer, seeing where this is leading. Well, do you? JULIAN I do, Your Majesty. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Go there now. You'll be given an advance and shown around. They will supply your instructions sometime next week. JULIAN (quivering) Your Majesty, that is not what I was hoping for. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Maybe not. It's what you're getting, nevertheless. JULIAN Oh, no. I couldn't. THE WOMAN IN BLACK That's enough talking now. Go and do as you're told. JULIAN Please, Your Majesty, hear me out. I feel.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK (a bit of temper showing) I'm not going to be talked back by you, little man! Do you hear? (calmly) Nor am I particularly interested in your feelings. JULIAN (quivering) Your Majesty, I'm much honored, but I must refuse. THE WOMAN IN BLACK (sweetly) Would you rather be broken on the wheel? The Man In Black grins. De Maisse is watching with great curiosity. JULIAN But.... Oh, please have pity on me, Your Majesty!... He falls on his knees. I have a wife and four kids. I'm a simple farmer. THE WOMAN IN BLACK The more reason for you to join the Service. Believe me, it's not as bad as it seems at first. The pay is good. Much better than the income of a farmer. Up with you, and go away now. Julian rises and exits stage-left. Insolent little wretch. De Maisse, is this kind of thing tolerated in France? DE MAISSE No, Your Majesty. People of low order are not allowed to speak to their superiors unless they are specifically commanded to do so. THE WOMAN IN BLACK A very wise rule. We will see whether we can implement it here. England has always been too liberal. Ever since John signed the Magna Carta. I'll see whether I can tear the damn thing up and throw the pieces in their faces one of these days. Enter Joanne. JOANNE Your Majesty! THE WOMAN IN BLACK Good afternoon, Duchess. Robert, stop glaring at De Maisse. Go have a drink. I'll see you at the theatre tonight. THE MAN IN BLACK Your Majesty.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK Go, I said. The Man In Black wavers; presently, throwing another threatening glance at De Maisse, he turns on his heel and leaves. Now, my dear De Maisse, let me introduce you. This is Lady Mulberry. Duchess, De Maisse here is King Henri's embassador. De Maisse bows and kisses Joanne's proffered hand gallantly. JOANNE Very pleased to meet you, Monsieur. Your Majesty, I just learned something utterly devastating. The Blackfriars.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK Yes, Robert bought it in my name from the owner. I intend to make a gift of it to someone whose work I happen to admire. I'm sorry if this is unpleasant, although I can't imagine why. JOANNE Your Majesty, I.... was rather.... fond of that particular theatre. THE WOMAN IN BLACK You may go on being fond of it, there's no low against it as yet. JOANNE The present troupe of actors, I thought, was especially capable. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Most of them will be retained by the company, I believe. JOANNE The choice of plays.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK Yes, that will have to change. Monsieur De Maisse here was astonished when he familiarized himself with the repertoire. Weren't you, De Maisse? DE MAISSE (protesting) Your Majesty.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK He was particularly puzzled by the fact that so many ancient, outdated works are being put on which fail to attract anyone except people from out of town. JOANNE But tonight.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK Yes, tonight they're performing a new piece by a well-known idiot who thinks he can imitate ancient Greeks. The new management will do away with this kind of nonsense. It's a shame that the only good play produced by the company over the past five years was Tambulaine The Great. Its author happens to be a man of considerable talent, and I'm surprised, and so is Monsieur De Maisse here, that the old management made no effort to solicit more plays from him despite the fact that he is, I believe, a frequent guest at the house of one of the company's principles. A pause. JOANNE The.... author? THE WOMAN IN BLACK I believe he was, still is, perhaps, on intimate terms with the daughter of the said principle. Joanne is wide-eyed. DE MAISSE (recovering his composure) How very amusing. You know, Your Majesty, it's the little things like this that make this country appealing. Makes one feel as though he were a character in a play. Ah, England! JOANNE Your Majesty, I beseech you.... You have the power to reverse this.... Please give the old management another chance. THE WOMAN IN BLACK By the way, Duchess. A certain person dedicated a sonnet to you recently. This person turned out to be a vile conspirator and they're looking for him now in order to arrest him. Do you have any idea of his whereabouts? (turns to De Maisse) Imagine, my dear De Maisse, the turpid creature wants to make this venerable woman his mistress. DE MAISSE (looking skeptically at Joanne) Well, Madame, he must be a very queer person.... Not that the lady isn't quite admirable in certain respects. She is. But.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK (sternly) She's married, De Maisse. I know that in France this wouldn't amount to much, but here we are rather strict about marriage. De Maisse smiles. The Woman In Black continues lightly. The sonnet was, in fact, quite beautiful, which brings up the question of its true authorship. The Duchess, not being an expert in these matters, was quite taken in. De Maisse laughs. In fact, certain elements of its style makes one want to talk to the new manager of the Blackfriars. The man is known to receive commissions for sonnets occasionally which are subsequently passed by those who commission them as their own. A vile practice, but the man has been hard up for money all his life. Well, the company he now owns will set that right. Oh, look, there's a rat. Joanne panics and throws herself on De Maisse's neck. JOANNE Oh, sir! Please do something! I can't stand rats! De Maisse is astonished. THE WOMAN IN BLACK Calm down, Duchess. I see it's running the other way. It's gone. JOANNE (releasing De Maisse) Pardon me, sir. Rats will be my death one of these days. Your Majesty.... THE WOMAN IN BLACK Good afternoon, Duchess. Monsieur, let me show you the Bankside, it's quite beautiful at this time of day. The Woman In Black leads the way stage-right. De Maisse follows her. He glances back at the Duchess, giggles. They are gone. Joanne, shaken, crushed, stares in front of herself. A pause. Stage-right, enter Chris. He looks pensive. His head is tilted back, his lips are moving slowly, mouthing inaudible words. He walks slowly across the stage and passes Joanne without noticing her. She is still staring, still transfixed. Half-way to the exit, Chris stops and bends, removing a shoe. He squats and hits the shoe against the ground several times, trying to extricate whatever it is that was bothering him just now. He straightens, puts the shoe back on. He makes an uncertain gesture with his hand, passes his palm over his forehead, walks on and exits stage-left. A pause. Stage-right, enter Lionel and Betsy. BETSY What's the rush? LIONEL We have to find Chris and warn him. Don't you understand? His life is in danger. BETSY How? Lionel waves her off impatiently. At this point, Joanne jerks herself out of her coma and turns around. JOANNE Hey! They look at her. BETSY Mother! LIONEL (resignedly) Oh, no. JOANNE Lionel, I'm so sorry. LIONEL Why, what's the matter?... Er.... Did you see Chris? JOANNE Lionel, they've blackmailed Julian into selling out. But don't worry, we'll buy another company. It may not be tomorrow, but in a month or two.... LIONEL What was that? JOANNE There's a new owner now. They'll be producing a lot of trash, it seems. But don't worry; I'll see to it that your reputation stays intact. You'll have a new theatre soon. BETSY Mother, I'm sorry. JOANNE So am I, Betsy. The best theatre in town! LIONEL It's all right, Duchess, you need not worry on my account. JOANNE Oh, Lionel.... LIONEL I can take care of myself. Incidentally, who is the new owner? JOANNE Oh, what difference does it make?... I can't remember. Lord Chamberlain's Men, I think.... BETSY Lord Chamberlain's! LIONEL (turns to Betsy, smiling faintly) Fate. BETSY (with conviction) Providence. JOANNE There's no question, of course, of your staying on with them. I'm going to arrange everything. LIONEL No need, Duchess. As a matter of fact, I am staying on with them. JOANNE (stunned) Lionel! LIONEL I must grow as an actor. Leads who stop growing soon fall out of fashion. JOANNE Lionel, what are you talking about? You're not going to debase yourself by participating in their stupid farces. Tell me you're joking. LIONEL We must find Chris. Duchess.... JOANNE (moving towards him) Ungrateful rat! This is your gratitude! After all I've done for you, you just dump me like so much trash! BETSY I'd better run. She's going to make a scene. LIONEL Betsy, we must.... JOANNE (thundering) I'm going to strangle you with my own hands! BETSY Chris is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Joanne goes for Lionel's throat. He tries to shake her off. Betsy shakes her head in cold amazement. Stage-left, enter Chris running, frightened, looking over his shoulder. Betsy looks, sees, turns to Lionel, who is holding Joanne by the wrists. You wanted Chris. Here he is. CHRIS Betsy! He looks over his shoulder. Lionel releases Joanne. JOANNE Filthy snake! Chris runs up to Betsy. CHRIS</