Exit The Actress_ A Novel Part 14

All my dearest love, Grandfather June 7-Will's Coffee-house All the talk is of Mistress Mary "Moll" Davis, my rival at the Duke's House. She sings her pathetic song "My Lodging, It Is on the Cold, Cold Ground" and then, to prove her point, curls into a weary little ball and sleeps on the stage. Somehow, at the end of the play she is revived sufficiently to dance a gigue gigue in her breeches, in her breeches, a la a la myself. Everyone is comparing us: she has a superior voice, but I am the better dancer; she is all lush curves, and I am wand thin; she is a b.u.t.tery blonde, while I am a pert, intelligent redhead; she looks well in yellow, while I ... enough! myself. Everyone is comparing us: she has a superior voice, but I am the better dancer; she is all lush curves, and I am wand thin; she is a b.u.t.tery blonde, while I am a pert, intelligent redhead; she looks well in yellow, while I ... enough!

Note-Although I would love a visit from Grandfather, I fear now is not the time. He will sense the distance between Hart and myself and only grow more anxious for my happiness. As well, life in Drury Lane is wretched. Mother lives only on the money I provide and no longer goes out, except to buy drink.

Later-the Duke's House (The Rivals, how fitting) It being our night off, Teddy and I sneaked off to watch this famous Mistress Davis. We were careful to go in disguise and had a roaring good time dressing up. Teddy went as a woman, naturally. He got to wear his lovely yellow silk gown-the one he wore as Juliet (he fretted over the tear in the sleeve and blames Becka, naturally). He He looks lovely in yellow. I chose a starlight blue gown and matching wide-brimmed hat. The dark veil utterly concealed my face. Thus transformed, we hired a hackney and set out in the rain. looks lovely in yellow. I chose a starlight blue gown and matching wide-brimmed hat. The dark veil utterly concealed my face. Thus transformed, we hired a hackney and set out in the rain.

Slipping in after the first act, we took seats in the middle gallery, close enough to see but not to be be seen. Teddy was grumpy as he prefers either the pit or a good box-money spent on anything else is nonsense. She entered, lonely and forlorn, and sang her sad little song. It is affecting and she sings well enough, but with such sticky sweetness that I found her irritating. Her breeched dancing was pleasant, but she is quite plump and did not convey a sense of delicacy. I think it takes rather a lot to heave her considerable bulk off the ground. Goodness, how mean I am. Teddy enjoyed the dressing up much more than the play. I think he was disappointed that no one recognised us. seen. Teddy was grumpy as he prefers either the pit or a good box-money spent on anything else is nonsense. She entered, lonely and forlorn, and sang her sad little song. It is affecting and she sings well enough, but with such sticky sweetness that I found her irritating. Her breeched dancing was pleasant, but she is quite plump and did not convey a sense of delicacy. I think it takes rather a lot to heave her considerable bulk off the ground. Goodness, how mean I am. Teddy enjoyed the dressing up much more than the play. I think he was disappointed that no one recognised us.

ST. C CLOUD, F FRANCETO H HIS M MAJESTY K KING C CHARLES IIFROM P PRINCESSE H HENRIETTE-ANNE, d.u.c.h.eSSE D' O ORLeANSJUNE 10, 1667 10, 1667 My dear, It is only the not having that has driven you mad-and not the object of desire herself. While she is undoubtedly a beautiful girl, and unusual in her determined virtue, she is not singular in her qualities. It is her refusal refusal that sets her apart-and her refusal that inflames your desire. Understand your own character with greater nuance and perception, and you can free yourself from this unhappy tangle. that sets her apart-and her refusal that inflames your desire. Understand your own character with greater nuance and perception, and you can free yourself from this unhappy tangle.

Do not be angry with her, dearest. Even if you had divorced Catherine and married her, she still would only have been one among many in your affections; your heart is a well-populated country. As one man's wife, she has a chance to be loved alone. It is what every woman wants, and you are incapable of giving it. It is a strange truth. her, she still would only have been one among many in your affections; your heart is a well-populated country. As one man's wife, she has a chance to be loved alone. It is what every woman wants, and you are incapable of giving it. It is a strange truth.

With love, your, Minette

When I Take a Great Risk

June 30-Theatre Royal (Flora's Vagaries, again) The last performance! Done for the season! To celebrate, Teddy, Lacy, Nick, Peg, and I went to Chatelin's for a lovely roast supper. We were met by Rochester, Etheredge, Buckhurst, and Sedley-Buckingham could not join us, Johnny explained, as he was only recently out of hiding and currently enjoying a short stay in the Tower. They say that on his way to the Tower, he stopped for luncheon at the Sun Tavern in Bishopsgate and dined with Buckhurst and Lord Carbery.

"Yes, he stopped for lunch, but no, I was not with him," Buckhurst corrected. "Carbery might have been-I've no idea."

"d.a.m.ned persistent story, that," added Sedley, helping himself to more of the stewed pheasant and smacking his lips in antic.i.p.ation. "I've heard it several places."

"Seems silly of him to stop at a mean pub on his way to the Tower," Rochester observed, "'specially when he has Louis, his own French cook, lodged with him."

"Mmm," said Peg, "Louis has wonderful hands-very light pastry."

"He took a staff staff?" I asked, incredulously. "To prison?"

"Naturally," said Rochester. "Can't manage there without a staff. Every time I go, I have to pack up the whole b.l.o.o.d.y house. Pots, pans, pets, coverlets, servants ... It's a b.l.o.o.d.y nightmare."

The "merry mob," Lacy calls them. Buckhurst watched me all evening, not bothering to conceal his interest. He has a tendency to keep remarkably quiet and then say the most shocking things. I admit, I find him fascinating, but frightening, too, like looking over the edge of a high precipice. These rowdy boys have taken a house together in the country and have tried to recruit me to join their party.

"Come away to Epsom! Let us leave foul London behind!" crowed Rochester, waving about his dripping cup and sending wine all over his new blond wig (he switched over this week from dark-doesn't quite work). Peg quickly moved her skirts out of the way, but her pink silk slippers got splashed. Teddy's forehead crumpled in mild distaste; he dislikes messy eaters.

"The fresh country air, the spa, the music, the parties, the dancing!" Sedley sang, his eyes closed, his head lolling about-he was already quite drunk.

"Not to mention the bathing!" Etheredge chimed in. "The bathing is wonderful." Etheredge is a notorious fanatic for cleanliness and is always catching cold on account of his wet, clean hair.

"Let's be drunk for the summer!" Rochester said, shaking the droplets of wine from his curls. As if he would be sober in London?

"Yes! Let us away tonight!" crowed Sedley, pouring another gla.s.s of wine (his fourth).

"I will give you one hundred pounds a year to be my mistress," said Buckhurst evenly, never taking his eyes from my face, his expression never changing, folding his hands calmly in his lap. Did anyone else hear that? I turned to look, but no, they were all chatting away as usual.

One hundred pounds? A fortune. Could he be serious? Could he be serious?

July 5, 1667My dearest Mrs. Gwyn,Please have your things packed and ready by eleven a.m. tomorrow, at the very latest. My coachman Harris will be prompt and convey you to me with all speed.It is fate. I have decided. You are to be mine.

Buckhurst July 5, 1667-Drury Lane How do I respond to such a letter? I find myself packing my trunk. But I know nothing of this man! Ruby is puzzled and looks at me expectantly from her travelling basket. Are we going away? her puggy eyes ask.

LONDON GAZETTE.

Sunday July 13, 1667 Most Deservedly Called London's Best and Brilliant Broadsheet The Social Notebook Volume 265 Ambrose Pink's social observations du jour Darlings!

What news, my pets! From orange girl to actress to Epsom? The loveliest little songbird of the Theatre Royal has flown the coop. To Epsom, of all places. What will dear Tommy Killigrew do? Will she come back? A very reliable source whispered to me that she has returned all her parts for next season and plans to give up the stage for good. Can it be true? Dommage! Dommage! Dommage! Dommage! Never fear, she will be kept well amused. The most dashing of the court wits have flown away with her: The Earl of Rochester, the Duke of Buckingham, and Charles Sedley-not to mention her current amour Charles Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, perhaps the rakiest rake of them all. Never fear, she will be kept well amused. The most dashing of the court wits have flown away with her: The Earl of Rochester, the Duke of Buckingham, and Charles Sedley-not to mention her current amour Charles Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, perhaps the rakiest rake of them all. Au revoir, Au revoir, dearest Nelly. Fly home to us soon! dearest Nelly. Fly home to us soon!

a bientot, dearests, dearests, Ever your eyes and ears, Ambrose Pink, Esq.

July 16, 1667Maiden Lane, LondonEllen,I am at a loss to see how you could possibly justify your actions. To leave London in the company of such men is beneath you, Ellen. They are wits to be sure, but they are not men of strong character. Beyond issues of decorum, how could you depart this city and not inform me? Do you not know how deeply I care for your well-being? I am astounded at your effrontery and wounded by your wont of care.

Hart July 18, 1667Maiden Lane, LondonDearest Ellen,I am lost without you. Please return to me.

Your, Hart July 19, 1667Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, LondonDear Ellen,I know you have heard the rumours of Hart and Lady Castlemaine and can only imagine that they sowed the seeds of your departure. I must tell you, as your friend, that yes, they are true, but Hart would welcome you back without hesitation if that were what you chose, although I fear it is not your desire.For myself, I miss your merry presence and harbour a hope that you will return to us for the coming season. The audience loves you, as does the company, as do I. Teddy is quite forlorn. Please advise me of your intentions as the autumn season has been built around you. I am coming to Epsom and will take this opportunity to call upon you. I hope you are well, my dear. Cecilia sends her best. You are in our thoughts.

Yours, etc....

Tom P.S.: Please forgive my brevity and my forthrightness. I look upon you as my daughter and take a profound interest in your happiness and welfare. Please forgive my brevity and my forthrightness. I look upon you as my daughter and take a profound interest in your happiness and welfare.July 25, 1667-Epsom I look around me and cannot quite believe what I have done. I am writing this in a room strewn with wine bottles, dirty clothes, coffee cups, overturned books, and slumbering men. No one managed to make it up to their bedrooms last night, and everyone seemed to have slept where they fell. Ruby picks her way among the debris, unimpressed with my choice of habitat. She has a point. What have I done?

We live in a rented house next to the King's Head, and Buckhurst, Sedley, Rochester and I stay up all the night dicing, talking, and (they) drinking. I have not the head for such strong spirits. It is merry company but strange. Buckhurst treats me as a sister. He is playful and affectionate but only seldom comes to my bed. I do not feel I am getting to know him at all. We do not draw closer, despite my efforts-efforts that humiliate me in their desperation.

I felt so worldly when I flounced out of Hart's bed and now realise I know nothing of the world and have misjudged my place in it. I had a.s.sumed Buckhurst would offer the same singular devotion and protection I received from Hart-how naive! I had hoped he would open my heart and I would feel that sense of belonging, of which I know myself to be capable, but there is only empty formality and, occasionally, lewdness. What have I done?

July 21, 1667Farm Cottage, OxfordDearest Ellen,I heard the most extraordinary rumour today at the college. Is it possible that you have abandoned the stage for Epsom and a man named Buckworth? As you know, I trust you to make your wisest decisions in every moment, my dearest, but this change does seem rash. What of this man? Is he the love you have been seeking? I can only pray that he is.Margaret still fares well and, although she would never admit it, is impressed by your exalted orbit. She cares for you truly, as of course do I. I miss you, my sweet elfin child.

All the love, Grandfather Note-I enclose a copy of Milton's controversial Paradise Lost. Paradise Lost. It is frightening and awesome in its scope. Keep up your reading! It is frightening and awesome in its scope. Keep up your reading!July 27, 1667-Epsom Tom came to visit today. We went to the New Inn-to get away from the mad house in which I live. He swears that he is here purely for his wife to take the waters, but I know he is also here to see for himself that I am well. I am touched by his concern and amused by his pretext.

"But these Wits, Wits," he said. "I know their ways." Indeed, his son is counted among them, as he himself was years ago. "They will drop you when they have tired of you, and then where will you be?" he asked, settling into a winged chair by the fire.

Where am I now? I thought but did not say. "Will I always be welcome at the King's?" I asked hopefully, smiling my most charming smile and pouring him more chocolate.

"London audiences are fickle, my dear. They may forget you. If you mean to return, do not tarry."

July 31, 1667Milk Street, LondonMy dearest dear,You have made Epsom ever so chic. I have heard stories all over town of your madcap antics. Could they be true? Did Sedley truly swear loudly and continuously at Durdan House and then run about au naturel au naturel as G.o.d intended, shocking Lady Robartes? Did you dance upon the table at the King's Head in your breeches and, when told to stop by a prudish innkeeper, invite everyone in the alehouse next door to your lodgings to continue the dancing? Did you really ask Bucky Buck for payment up front? Five hundred pounds, they say! (Preposterous-you have always been loath to ask for money.) Does little Catherine Sedley wear your clothes and carouse with you all late into the night? as G.o.d intended, shocking Lady Robartes? Did you dance upon the table at the King's Head in your breeches and, when told to stop by a prudish innkeeper, invite everyone in the alehouse next door to your lodgings to continue the dancing? Did you really ask Bucky Buck for payment up front? Five hundred pounds, they say! (Preposterous-you have always been loath to ask for money.) Does little Catherine Sedley wear your clothes and carouse with you all late into the night? Goodness, my dear-to have run away with the most dangerously charming men in England. How clever you are. Goodness, my dear-to have run away with the most dangerously charming men in England. How clever you are.London is dismal. The rebuilding is slow and messy, and people seem to be leaving the city, rather than suffer to live here. Dirt, stone, and building crews everywhere you look. The City still looks blackened and charred and frankly depressing-but it is better than my wife's family in Suffolk.I miss your gay heart and loving company. Do not stay away forever. I couldn't bear it.

All the loveliest love I have, Teddy Note-Have you heard? Henry Jermyn has been sent away from court for fornicating (what a brilliant farmyard word) with Castlemaine-or aspiring to! She denies it, naturellement. naturellement. Hart disappears directly after the show each night. It is said, to be with her. I thought you would wish to know. Hart disappears directly after the show each night. It is said, to be with her. I thought you would wish to know.August 15, 1667-Epsom I read and re-read Teddy's letter, my heart eased by familiarity. It is loneliness, I realised. I am lonely. But I do not know him yet, my heart reasons. Perhaps when I do he will ... he will ... he will what? He doesn't even seem to like me!

August 19, 1667-Epsom (four a.m.) Four nights alone! I hear them come into the house. The whole street can probably hear them, as these boys make no effort to be quiet. Some sleep where they land (Buckingham never seems to make it upstairs, and I always find him tangled up in the cushions on the floor), but Buckhurst is always careful to retire to his bedroom. He opens my door and wishes me a formal good night, never suggesting I follow him. When I try to suggest it, he pretends he has not heard me. A blandness has come over him, obscuring all the sharpened intensity that came before. In truth, my heart is not engaged either-only my pride and my hope.

Later-six a.m. (still up) I know I have made a terrible mistake. But I dare not correct it. I feel painted into this unhappy corner. Why is admitting I am wrong so terrifying? Not that I am wrong, I think: that I am unloved-that is where humiliation lives. This is not the love I have sought, and I have travelled too far down this wrong road. I must make my way back. I feel small in my foolish disappointment. But I dare not correct it. I feel painted into this unhappy corner. Why is admitting I am wrong so terrifying? Not that I am wrong, I think: that I am unloved-that is where humiliation lives. This is not the love I have sought, and I have travelled too far down this wrong road. I must make my way back. I feel small in my foolish disappointment.

August 20-Epsom Late: The boys went out carousing, Buckhurst, it seems, would rather common wh.o.r.es to me, and I was enjoying an evening of blessed quiet, cosy in my nightgown and socks, with Ruby asleep in her basket and Catherine, Sedley's ten-year-old daughter, asleep upstairs, when Johnny Rochester returned early.

"Still up, my Ellen chickie?" he asked, lightly kissing my brow. He smelled strongly of drink. He pulled off his curled wig and scratched his short, dark hair. "Ah, you have tidied up! I was hoping you would. I thought if we left it long enough-"

"Why doesn't he want me?" I burst out unexpectedly. I had not planned to confide my woes to anyone, but they could not be contained any longer.

"Because he got what he wanted, naturally," he said easily, dropping onto the settle opposite. Even drunk, Johnny retains his grace.

I looked at him, uncomprehending.

"Ugh," he said, impatient with my slow absorption. "He wanted to see if he could get you here. And he did. So?"

"But we-"

"Bedded?" he asked cra.s.sly, sounding bored and kicking off his shoes. I winced. "Well, yes, of course you did, but that was just for form's sake, really."

Form?

He yawned and looked at me. "Bucky is only interested in what he cannot cannot have. Once he have. Once he can can have it, there is no joy. That is the trouble with people who have it, there is no joy. That is the trouble with people who have have everything. Terribly dull way to live, really." He yawned again, but beneath the veneer of dispa.s.sion, I sensed an earnest care. "See, for myself, I seem to enjoy nothing. Neither what I everything. Terribly dull way to live, really." He yawned again, but beneath the veneer of dispa.s.sion, I sensed an earnest care. "See, for myself, I seem to enjoy nothing. Neither what I can can have, nor what I have, nor what I can't can't have-which is even duller." have-which is even duller."

"He does not want me?"

"No. Best thing you could do is run away. Go. Go. Leave tonight. Then he will Leave tonight. Then he will always always want you. want you. Vite, cherie! Vite! Vite, cherie! Vite!"

Later-two a.m.

Vite. Vite. I am packing. I am packing.

Returned Ellen

When I Am Re-engaged

August 21, 1667-Theatre Royal, London!

Hart's burning pa.s.sion has turned to impenetrable coldness. I am not sure I mind. It is easier to navigate his anger than his unfinished love. He opposes my return to the theatre. Dryden and Tom are interceding, but as a star and shareholder Hart carries much weight. I am desperate but try not to show it. We certainly cannot play mad couple mad couple parts at the moment. parts at the moment.

I have engaged a cleaning woman for Drury Lane with the little money I have left from Buckhurst. Ridiculous for so dilapidated a house, but I cannot live in such a mess. I do not think Mother has washed the sheets since I left. Jill, a sweet girl from up the lane, starts tomorrow and will come twice a week. Four shillings. I feel weary with change.

GREENWICH, ENGLANDAUGUST 22, 1667 22, 1667.

Minette, Finally. The terms of the peace agreement have at last been worked out. We concede our holdings in West Africa, the island of Pulo Run and Surinam, but we keep the former Dutch possessions of New York, New Jersey, and New Delaware-the Peace of Breda. Such as it is. At least it is over.

Charles Note-The vultures have turned on Clarendon. The Privy Council now hold him responsible not only for arranging my barren marriage to Catherine but also for this unsatisfactory peace-forgetting entirely that Clarendon opposed this war from the beginning. They mostly supported the marriage, too, in fact. Unsurprisingly, Buckingham and Castlemaine are at the root of it. They truly believe that I am ignorant of their compulsive intriguing. I remain neutral and speak guardedly in his defence, but in truth I blame Clarendon for helping the d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond to elope. Petty, I know, but there it is.

Tuesday, August 25-Theatre Royal Compromise-at last. I am to perform, but in Dryden's Indian Emperor Indian Emperor (Cydaria (Cydaria again again to Hart's Cortez), and then Samira in Dryden's to Hart's Cortez), and then Samira in Dryden's The Surprisal The Surprisal-not comedies. Heigh-ho. Heigh-ho.

"This way he can exude gravitas, gravitas," reasoned Dryden.

"Not sure Cortez had gravitas," countered Teddy.

"Well, he certainly killed a lot of people," said Tom, "which Hart is certainly certainly up for at the moment." up for at the moment."

Oh dear. Will he hold a grudge forever forever?

"A wounded pride strikes more deeply than a wounded heart-but then you rather smashed both, so I don't know," Tom offered. "But both mend in time."

Any idea how much time?

Thursday, August 27-Theatre Royal (Emperor) We get through it. Hart manages to convince the audience that he is in love with me, despite never looking me in the eyes and flinching when I touch him. I manage to appear an adoring mistress, though I am a tightly wound ball of contempt. Until the epilogue. Hart claimed the prologue, but the epilogue is my moment. The audience-ever up on current gossip-watch us closely for outward signs of our turmoil. Dryden has tactfully written out the kiss at the end. Thank G.o.d.

Note-I feel as if the audience has cooled towards me. I am perceived as a wayward harlot. Johnny confirmed it this evening. I am the talk of the town. I am thought to be a fickle, money-grubbing orange girl, raised above her station. My switch from orange girl to actress used to enchant them. I mind much more than I expected.

Note-Teddy was right. Hart does disappear just after the show.

August 30, 1667New Dorset HouseMy dearest Mrs. Gwyn,Epsom was desolate without you. I have returned seeking only your company. Will you do me the honour of dining with me tomorrow evening? My soul wastes without you.

I wait upon your reply, Lord Charles Buckhurst Undated His soul soul-what rot. His soul did not notice I was there, so I think it will do nicely without me. Mother is already ordering poor Jill about, and so I have raised her wage to four and a half shillings. At this rate I must get back to playing leads soon.

When I Tire of These Games

August 31-Will's Coffee-house (breakfast) "You see. Now Now he is on the run," Rochester said, pouring brandy into his coffee (it was only ten in the morning). he is on the run," Rochester said, pouring brandy into his coffee (it was only ten in the morning).

"Goodness, you people get up d.a.m.nably early," Etheredge said, trying to shake himself awake.

"We would rather be in our beds, but duty calls," said Teddy, addressing Ruby in a sing-song voice, dunking his toast wedge into his coffee. I had requested an emergency family conference at the coffee-house and insisted they rise before noon. Buckhurst's notes were arriving in droves, and I needed help. would rather be in our beds, but duty calls," said Teddy, addressing Ruby in a sing-song voice, dunking his toast wedge into his coffee. I had requested an emergency family conference at the coffee-house and insisted they rise before noon. Buckhurst's notes were arriving in droves, and I needed help.

"But I do not want want a man who only a man who only wants wants me if I run away," I said, to no one in particular. me if I run away," I said, to no one in particular.

"Then you do not want want this man at all," said Rochester. this man at all," said Rochester.

"Keep running," said Teddy.

Later Johnny is right: I do not not want this man at all. I wanted to be free of Hart, to be swept away by an ardent lover, to be reckless, and, most of all, to be loved. I have returned in defeat, and I have no interest in trying again. want this man at all. I wanted to be free of Hart, to be swept away by an ardent lover, to be reckless, and, most of all, to be loved. I have returned in defeat, and I have no interest in trying again.

Note-After several unanswered notes, I finally stopped by Madame Ross's (still terrifying) in search of Rose. I was astonished to learn that she no longer works there. Then where is she? Worrying.

Even later-two a.m. (can't sleep) Wrapped in my counterpane, I am curled in the window-seat. The gla.s.s is cool against my forehead as I look out to the sleeping street below. A mother cat and her new litter are nestled into a pile of loose sacking against the next house, the lamplighters are working to repair the lamp across the street, and the baker and his wife are having a row in their house on the corner. It is a poor neighbourhood, one I had hoped to leave by now.

The money from Buckhurst is dwindling, and I have already had to dismiss Jill, although I recommended her to Peg, and so she is a.s.sured a far better position. I am unable to support Mother any longer. I hope that she will return to the tavern, but I fear that she will resort to her other profession and seek out a group of girls to sell-will I ever cease to be shocked by her selfishness? At least Grandfather has found work once more in Oxford and is happily occupied in the library at Christ Church.

Once I have won back the audience, I will be able to command a higher wage, but at the moment, with Hart (a major shareholder) against me, I remain poorly paid. If I become a crowd favourite, then Hart's enmity will count for nothing. If I could only play comic roles, I know I could earn their love. If, if, if: there is a great deal of "if" in my life at the moment.

Rose's absence worries me. I try to imagine her eloping with a wealthy lover-being whisked away in a coach and four-but I know how unlikely that is for one so thoroughly tainted. So where is she?