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102. EXT. GREENWICH PALACE. TERRACE. NIGHT. The way these royal Routs work is that the Guests mill about, chatting, bowing and generally behaving gallantly, while QUEEN ELIZABETH creates a vortex around her as she passes through the throng, occasionally honouring somebody with a couple of words, until she arrives thankfully at the best chair where she establishes a headquarters. Her current LORD IN WAITING ferries the lucky few forward to a brief audience with the QUEEN, each giving way to the next. VIOLA and WESSEX are, respectively, dipping and bowing as they are greeted by people who know them ... WILL, in close attendance, joins in gratuitously, bowing until VIOLA nudges him and reminds him to curtsy instead. The QUEEN's LORD IN WAITING plucks WESSEX'S sleeve. (to him) Now ? Now. (to Viola) The Queen asks for you. Answer well. The LORD IN WAITING ushers VIOLA through the crowd. WILL starts to follow. WESSEX takes him by the arm. Is there a man? A man, my lord ? (impatiently) There was a man, a poet - a theatre poet, I heard - does he come to the house ? A theatre poet ? An insolent penny-a-page rogue, Marlowe, he said, Christopher Marlowe - has he been to the house ? Marlowe ? Oh yes, he is the one, lovely waistcoat, shame about the poetry. (venomously) That dog ! ANGLE on the QUEEN. The LORD IN WAITING has presented VIOLA. VIOLA speaks from a frozen curtsy. Your Majesty. Stand up straight, girl. VIOLA straightens. The QUEEN examines her. I have seen you. You are the one who comes to all the plays - at Whitehall, at Richmond. (agreeing) Your Majesty. What do you love so much ? Your Majesty ... Speak out ! I know who I am. Do you love stories of kings and gueens ? Feats of arms ? Or is it courtly love ? I love theatre. To have stories acted for me by a company of fellows is indeed - (interrupting) They are not acted for you, they are acted for me. VIOLA remains silent, in apology. ANGLE on WILL. And - ? And I love poetry above all. Above Lord Wessex ? She looks over VIOLA'S shoulder and VIOLA realizes WESSEX has moved up behind her. WESSEX bows. (to WESSEX) My lord - when you cannot find your wife you had better look for her at the playhouse. The COURTIERS titter at her pleasantry. But playwrights teach nothing about love, they make it pretty, they make it comical, or they make it lust. They cannot make it true. (blurts) Oh, but they can ! She has forgotten herself. The COURTIERS gasp. The QUEEN considers her. WESSEX looks furious. Will is touched. I mean ... your Majesty, they do not, they have not, but I believe there is one who can - Lady Viola is ... young in the world. Your Majesty is wise in it. Nature and truth are the very enemies of play acting. I'll wager my fortune. I thought you were here because you had none. Titters again. WESSEX could kill somebody. (by way of dismissing him) Well, no-one will take your wager, it seems. Fifty pounds ! Shock and horror. QUEEN ELIZABETH is the only person amused. Fifty pounds! A very worthy sum on a very worthy question. Can a play show us the very truth and nature of love ? I bear witness to the wager, and will be the judge of it as occasion arises. (which wins a scatter of applause. She gathers her skirts and stands) I have not seen anything to settle it yet. (she moves away, everybody bowing and scraping) So - the fireworks will be soothing after the excitements of Lady Viola's audience. (and now she is next to WESSEX who is bowing low. Intimately to him) Have her then, but you are a lordly fool. She has been plucked since I saw her last, and not by you. It takes a woman to know it. The QUEEN passes by, and as WESSEX comes vertical again we see his face a mask of furious realization. (to himself) Marlowe ! He stalks off in a rage, blindly lashing out and overthrowing a servant girl's tray of refreshments. WILL has been watching.  |
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