Exit The Actress_ A Novel Part 4

Tom Monday, September 22, 1663 (finally home) My arms, my legs, my very bones ache. My head swirls: Jonson, Shakespeare, Beaumont, and Fletcher. One two three, one two three, un, deux, trois, plie, arabesque, un, deux, trois, plie, arabesque, and change. "China oranges! Juicy and sweet!" I fall into my bed and sleep. and change. "China oranges! Juicy and sweet!" I fall into my bed and sleep. Finis. Finis. Je suis finis. Finis. Finis. Je suis finis.

Wednesday, September 24-early early early!

Teddy and Nick joined my lesson this morning. Ever helpful, they corrected my arms, improved my lines, and turned out my feet. "There, "There, there! That's it! Now there! That's it! Now sing sing!" I sang.

"Oh dearie, no!" moaned Teddy.

"Stop! Stop!" cried Nick.

"You see! You see see the problem!" Hart scowled. the problem!" Hart scowled.

"But her dancing, her dancing is magnifique magnifique!" added Lacy unhelpfully.

"Yes, but she isn't dancing at present, is she, Lacy?" grumbled Hart.

"What happens to you?" asked Nick, genuinely baffled. happens to you?" asked Nick, genuinely baffled.

"You look so, so ... so ... wrong, wrong," said Teddy, circling behind to check my posture. He shrugged his shoulders. "It should be right. She hasn't moved."

"She certainly hasn't. She manages to look like a marionette up there-wooden," Hart offered, bluntly.

"The arms," said Teddy, critically standing back with his slim hands on his slim hips. "I think it is the arms-too tight."

"No, it's the legs, they have no fluidity, no give-more plies, plies, definitely. That's what she needs," Nick said conclusively, dropping into a graceful definitely. That's what she needs," Nick said conclusively, dropping into a graceful plie. plie.

"Not sure she's breathing," Hart said gruffly. "Perhaps she should try that."

"Ellen, what feels feels wrong?" asked Lacy, kindly changing tack and at last addressing me. wrong?" asked Lacy, kindly changing tack and at last addressing me.

"I just feel false, and stuck, like, like ... a statue," I said miserably. I felt tears pressing and squeezed my eyes shut to keep them back.

"But that's right, my dear, a graceful graceful statue. We'll get it. Don't you worry," said Lacy, handing me his handkerchief. statue. We'll get it. Don't you worry," said Lacy, handing me his handkerchief.

"Yes, we'll all help," Teddy said, folding me into his slender arms. I blew my nose loudly.

"Yes, you certainly will," said Hart in a determined sort of tone. "All of you here at break of day tomorrow."

"Ugh!" wailed Teddy, who hates to rise early.

Nick put his arms around Teddy and me. "We are all in it together now, chickees."

Monday, September 28 (eight a.m.)Elizabeth, Kitty, Theo, Peg, Rob, Nick, Teddy, Lacy, Hart All in it together.Friday, October 2, 1663-Theatre Royal Help help help: Peg: Turn out your feet! Turn out your feet!Kitty: Tuck in your bottom! Tuck in your bottom!Teddy: Pull in your tum! Pull in your tum!Rob: Bend your knees! Bend your knees!Lacy: Point your toes! Point your toes!Hart: Breathe, for G.o.d's sake! Breathe, for G.o.d's sake!Elizabeth: Take your time. Enjoy it. This is Take your time. Enjoy it. This is your your moment. moment.Nick: I honestly have no idea anymore. I honestly have no idea anymore.All: No! No! No!

When I Rehea.r.s.e and Rehea.r.s.e

PALAIS R ROYAL, P PARISTO MY BROTHER, K KING CHARLES II D' A ANGLETERRE AT W WINDSOR C CASTLEFROM P PRINCESSE H HENRIETTE-ANNE, D d.u.c.h.eSSE D' O ORLeANSFRIDAY, 2 OCTOBRE 1663 2 OCTOBRE 1663 My dear brother, I simply adored the suit of men's clothing Catherine sent to me. It is piquant, charmant, piquant, charmant, and and parfait parfait ! Not suitable for the French court, ! Not suitable for the French court, naturellement naturellement (we could never relinquish our complicated gowns and feminine mystery-and Phillipe would never allow it), but I am pleased to know that Catherine has found her style in England-and it is a delightful style at that. Your queen will surely bear many healthy princes, no matter what she wears. (we could never relinquish our complicated gowns and feminine mystery-and Phillipe would never allow it), but I am pleased to know that Catherine has found her style in England-and it is a delightful style at that. Your queen will surely bear many healthy princes, no matter what she wears.

I am sending this letter via Monsieur de Grammont, whom you were so kind to send to me. You were right: Philippe is opening my letters. Such scrutiny is a dreadful thing.

a bientot, cheri, Minette P.S.: I enclose the recipe for the burdock tooth tonic that my physician has patented, as well as a bottle of the calming spirit of lavender and white lilac I enclose the recipe for the burdock tooth tonic that my physician has patented, as well as a bottle of the calming spirit of lavender and white lilac parfum parfum that I recently discovered on my last visit to Colombes. Mam's chateau there is truly falling into disrepair. If Louis will not fund the renovations, could you, perhaps? that I recently discovered on my last visit to Colombes. Mam's chateau there is truly falling into disrepair. If Louis will not fund the renovations, could you, perhaps?

Monday, October 5-Theatre Royal Rehearsal: Everyone comes. Teddy raids Will's coffee-house and carts over breakfast: coffee, chocolate, bottles of lemony stepony, bread, cheese, and cold mutton pie. Meg often looks in, bringing oranges, of course. We gossip and breakfast, seated on the edge of the dusty stage, legs dangling. Teddy is always careful to lay down a cloth before he sits down. He insists on dressing smartly even to rehearsal. All morning before the audience arrives we have the huge s.p.a.ce to ourselves. It is a happy time.

"She definitely miscarried last week, and then three days later was up and returned to the king's bed in Oxford," Kitty declared with authority.

"Even for the energetically wicked Castlemaine, that is is impressive," said Teddy, sceptically. He carefully tucked a linen serviette under his chin to catch any falling bits of flaky pastry. impressive," said Teddy, sceptically. He carefully tucked a linen serviette under his chin to catch any falling bits of flaky pastry.

"Teddy, it's true!" screeched Kitty. "I heard it from someone who would know ... directly, directly," she said, wiggling her eyebrows meaningfully. Lizzie, seated next to her, rolled her eyes.

"This irrefutable source wouldn't be the dashing Lord Sedley, would it?" asked Rob, giving Kitty a sidelong glance. Kitty flushed a furious red.

"Careful, sweeting. Even among the Wits, Sedley's a wild one," cautioned Meg, handing me my heavy basket of oranges for later.

"Johnny Rochester and George Buckingham are worse," said Lizzie, yawning.

"And Buckingham's beautiful cousin, heavens, what what a harlot," said Teddy, handing Theo a hefty slice. " a harlot," said Teddy, handing Theo a hefty slice. " Can Can we return to that topic, please?" we return to that topic, please?"

"Mmm, she is is beautiful, but then so is the queen, in her way," offered Nick, his mouth full of pie. beautiful, but then so is the queen, in her way," offered Nick, his mouth full of pie.

"Did you hear that the king sacked Sir Edward Montagu just for squeezing the queen's hand?" asked Peg, putting down her coffee and standing up to begin her stretches.

"He didn't actually go out of his way to squeeze squeeze it; he was handing her down from a coach. More of an accidental squeeze," said Teddy, lifting his bowl of rich chocolate. it; he was handing her down from a coach. More of an accidental squeeze," said Teddy, lifting his bowl of rich chocolate.

"A wife is a lovely thing," said Theo absently.

"Good morning, ducklings!" chirped Lacy, joining the group and cheerfully helping himself to some chocolate. "Ooh, slip-coat cheese! Is this from Will's? Mmm, scrumptious." Then, seeing me sitting by Teddy, he kissed my brow affectionately. "Good morning, Ellen, dear."

"Right, shall we all get started?" boomed Hart, striding onto the stage. "Ellen?" He beckoned me over. "Perhaps you should try these," he said quietly, holding out a pair of delicate petal-pink silk slippers, tiny in his vast hands. "How can we ask you to stand properly if you are always wearing those wretched boots?"

Delighted, I surprised myself and stretched up onto my toes to kiss his powdered cheek. "Oh, Hart! Thank you!"

He beamed. "Now, none of that," he said, flushing.

I had never noticed before how pleasant his features are, generous and even and, while not finely drawn, certainly not coa.r.s.e. He reminds me of an absolutely enormous, powerfully built cherub.

"To work, shall we? Everyone!" Hart's loud voice sounded, and his brows knit in displeasure as he thundered across the stage-not a cherub then. "Clear away this mess! John, is Peg here yet? We need to rehea.r.s.e her scene this morning as well. Ah, there you are..." a cherub then. "Clear away this mess! John, is Peg here yet? We need to rehea.r.s.e her scene this morning as well. Ah, there you are..."

"Yes, I have been thinking about that scene..." I heard Lacy say as he and Hart moved downstage.

I sat down and pulled off my worn leather boots. I slid into the whisper-pink slippers. My feet arched gracefully, as if they had been made only for dancing in gilded ballrooms. I pranced in my delight, twirling in the feather-light shoes. When I stopped, breathless, I was conscious of Hart's eyes on me, his scowl replaced by a look of curiosity. I openly smiled back at him.

Thank you.

Later-after my lesson Everyone had taken themselves off to the tiring rooms to change and make up for the performance. I took off my beautiful slippers and set them next to my crumpled boots. Flexing my cramped limbs and wiggling my toes, I luxuriated in my undisciplined stance. Bare-footed, I stood on the empty stage and looked out at the great tiered room, undaunted. The candles glowed golden in their cressets, warming the waiting rows of green baize cushions. The October rain drizzled on the blue glazed cupola above. Stretching out my aching arms in ownership, I took to the stage.

Picking up the lute at my feet, I played.Singing softly, gaining confidence, I moved to the music, supple-spined.I twirled, lissome, laughing and dizzy.I felt small and limber, and giddy with song.Monday, October 5Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, Bridges StreetHart,I am now convinced that the tutelage of Mistress Ellen Gwyn is moving in an inappropriate direction as per her abilities. We may have misjudged her talents. It is an error that begs a remedy. Please come and see me early on the morrow. Six o'clock? Best to come before your lesson and rehearsal.

All best wishes, Tom Tuesday October 6-Theatre Royal Rehearsal: Loitering and laughing on the stage, we waited to start. Teddy, in a fine mettle so early in the morning, pulled me up to dance a jig, to limber up. Theo, in his armchair in the wing, tucked under his coach blanket (he has been feeling poorly this autumn), lowered his news sheet to watch us affectionately. His wife, Anne, who had stopped in to leave some mended costumes and re-curl his periwig (he is forever unravelling), dropped a kiss on his forehead. Nick had fallen asleep, his long legs hanging off the stage.

By and by, Hart arrived with Mr. Killigrew. "Everyone, please!" Hart called out. "I would like to work with Ellen and Teddy just at present. Would the rest of the company please clear the stage?" Seeing Theo struggle to rise, he said, "No, no, Theo, if it pleases you, stay as you are."

Mr. Killigrew, who had taken a seat in the first row of the pit, was silently watching.

"Ellen," Hart called me over softly, "you and Teddy are to sing the duet from the new Dryden: the one you have been rehearsing. Mr. Killigrew would like to mark your progress." Then, under his breath, he said, "Have faith, my girl, this will all come right for you." With a quick pinch of my cheek, he left me to the stage and took a seat beside Killigrew.

"Ready, Ellen," whispered Teddy beside me, "like we've practiced, grace. grace. You can do this. Relax. I am right here." You can do this. Relax. I am right here."

"When you are ready, please," called Hart officiously.

Teddy began, his clear tenor voice holding the slippery notes easily, exuding an effortless charm.

My cue. Breathe in. Now. Now.

I began. My voice thin, my reedy arms held before me in a poor imitation of grace. Even to me, they looked childish and silly.

"Thank you," called Mr. Killigrew, after only a few bars, "that is enough." Climbing the stairs to the stage, he waved Teddy away without a glance. "Ellen? Is it?" he asked in a gentle voice. I nodded, too ashamed to speak. "Ellen, I want you to sing. Just Is it?" he asked in a gentle voice. I nodded, too ashamed to speak. "Ellen, I want you to sing. Just sing sing."

I stepped to the centre of the stage and began. Trying hard to hold my pose-arms, toes, tummy, bottom-grace. Useless. Useless. I faltered and stopped. My cheeks flamed anew. I faltered and stopped. My cheeks flamed anew.

"Ellen, where did you learn to sing?"

"At home, with my sister and my mother. My grandfather sings as well, as did my father, although I never knew him," I mumbled, not meeting his gaze.

"Is this how you sing at home? Standing, like this?"

"No. At home it is just us. Just me. At home we just ... we just ... play, and ... sing," I said miserably, unable to meet his gaze.

"Like that first day on the stage?"

"Yes."

"Like yesterday afternoon?"

I took a quick breath in, mortified. "I ... the stage was empty, sir. I didn't know anyone was here. I certainly didn't know you you were here. I never would have ... I just wanted to, to ... Oh, sir, I am sorry," I finished, finally meeting his eyes. To my surprise, there was only a look of kind encouragement upon his face. were here. I never would have ... I just wanted to, to ... Oh, sir, I am sorry," I finished, finally meeting his eyes. To my surprise, there was only a look of kind encouragement upon his face.

"Would you sing for me now?" he asked softly.

"Yes, sir," I said, smoothing my cap, straightening my back, setting my shoulders, lengthening my neck.

"No, Ellen," he corrected me, shaking the stiffness from my hands. "Close your eyes. Breathe. That's it. Steady. I want you to sing as is natural to you. Sing like you did yesterday."

My eyes squeezed tight shut, my heart curled into a ball, I sang as myself. Breathing evenly, I moved into the music. The familiar rhythm and joy thrummed through me. The lyrics tripped off my tongue with clean precision. I opened my eyes, and Mr. Killigrew was smiling down at me. Joining in, he took up Teddy's part in the duet, the corner of his song lifting with delight. Breathless and pleased, we came to the end.

"Yes," said Mr. Killigrew, looking at me gently. "This is you. As you will always be. You are meant only for ease and laughter."

"Yes," I said rashly. "I fear I am unsuited to elegance."

"Ha!" He chuckled. "You are a candid little thing. I like that. I predict that you will create your own elegance and that you will be followed by joy. I wish you well, Ellen."

As he moved away towards the wings, I gathered my courage and called out, "Mr. Killigrew! Am I still to become one of your company? Or would you prefer someone more ... more dignified?"

"Ha!" He laughed again. "Plucky as well! Good! Yes, you will remain in my company, and I will inform Hart of the change in your regime."

"My regime?" I looked at him quizzically.

"Yes, Ellen," he said, his eyes alive with mirth. "I fear you may change everyone's regime." With that, he beckoned to Hart and retired upstairs to his private office.

Theo, forgotten in his wing chair, chuckled softly. "Well, my girl, you have done it. Everything will change now."

When I Pity the Ailing Queen

To: Mr. Thomas Killigrew From: Mr. Charles Hart Concerning Mistress Ellen Gwyn's Progress as an Actress Weekly Report Dear Tom, I am mightily pleased with this week's progress; it showing both our actors and actresses to best advantage. Ellen's easiness onstage is blossoming into an engaging style of action, and her voice, enriched with confidence, is finding a rare timbre and pitch. If she is cast in younger, ingenue roles, this new and exciting style will work very well for us as a company. I also believe that it will give us an advantage over Davenant's much vaunted novelty. I think very well on the choices we have made together.

All good wishes, Hart Postscript: Lacy would like me to add, and I quite agree, that her dancing remains exemplary. She danced in her breeches yesterday and has quite the prettiest legs and feet I have yet seen upon a stage. Lacy would like me to add, and I quite agree, that her dancing remains exemplary. She danced in her breeches yesterday and has quite the prettiest legs and feet I have yet seen upon a stage.

LONDON GAZETTE.

Sunday, October 18, 1663 Most Deservedly Called London's Best and Brilliant Broadsheet The Social Notebook Volume 96 Ambrose Pink's lamentable observations du jour Darlings, Sad news from Whitehall. Our gentle new queen is gravely ill. Her fever has not broken in five days, and if it does not abate, her physicians say there is little hope. She faces her travail with piety and grace, and according to Lord Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans, His Grace the King is much moved by her suffering and is at her bedside daily despite the danger to his own health. In her fevered wanderings, according to another reliable court insider, she is said to have told the king tales of their imagined three living children and confided that she would willingly leave all the world behind but for him. This news has much afflicted His Majesty. I heartily urge you all to pray for our queen.

a bientot, dearests, dearests, A greatly saddened, Ambrose Pink, Esq.

October 22, 1663-Drury Lane (raining) At home this evening with Grandfather. He loves to hear the theatre stories from the day. Today, during Alchemist, Alchemist, Teddy dropped an entire scene, stranding Peg onstage. Nick, playing Face, had to cover for him. Hart was furious! Teddy dropped an entire scene, stranding Peg onstage. Nick, playing Face, had to cover for him. Hart was furious!

SOMERSET H HOUSE, L LONDONTO OUR DAUGHTER, P PRINCESSE H HENRIETTE A ANNE, D d.u.c.h.eSSE D' O ORLeANS, AT S ST. C CLOUDFROM H HER M MAJESTY Q QUEEN H HENRIETTA M MARIA22 octobre 1663 Cherie, It is so very sad and still here. In the first days of the queen's illness there was much bustling about, physicians and apothecaries and even botanists-Charles insisted. Now, there are only priests and prayers. She is beyond any of us now. Have you seen Charles's apothecary, Le Fevre? I know Charles despatched him to consult Louis's physicians with all speed.

The few times she has awoken she has asked only for Charles. Her devotion to him is sincere and touching. She will die a good Catholic; we may rejoice in that. Far worse things can happen.

I kiss you, my sweet, Queen Henrietta Maria Note-Just because your husband and his brother the king are engaged in all this building is no reason for you to risk your health. Your lungs have never been strong, and the dust must be considerable. Do not spend time in places you shouldn't; you will only have yourself to blame.

October 23-Drury Lane (theatres closed in honour of the queen) Rose says the king has taken it very much to heart and is beside himself with worry. Rose also says His Majesty has not yet missed supper once with Lady Castlemaine during the queen's illness. Wretched man. I pray nightly for Her Majesty.

Note-The queen is so ill as to be shaved and have pigeons tied to her feet. I have been reading Culpeper's English Physician: English Physician: that is what they try when there is no hope. The pigeons are to keep her soul from flying away. that is what they try when there is no hope. The pigeons are to keep her soul from flying away.

SOMERSET H HOUSE, L LONDONTO OUR SON, K KING C CHARLES II OF E ENGLANDFROM H HER M MAJESTY Q QUEEN H HENRIETTA M MARIAoctober 24, 1663 Charles, I am not unaware of how and where you spend your time. Your queen is the Portuguese Infanta, and this sort of liberal peasant behaviour reflects badly upon us in the eyes of Europe. Show more character and discipline yourself, Charles.

Maman Note-There will be plenty of time to resume what must be a very compelling liaison with Lady Castlemaine next week.

Tuesday-Drury Lane (raining) The account of the queen's treatment in the Gazette Gazette this morning: bloodletting, anemone, leeches, crushed fox lung, lungwort, spider web, swallow nest, pennyroyal, cottonweed, bedstraw, foxglove, the ground skull of a hanged man? These remedies this morning: bloodletting, anemone, leeches, crushed fox lung, lungwort, spider web, swallow nest, pennyroyal, cottonweed, bedstraw, foxglove, the ground skull of a hanged man? These remedies cure cure illness? illness?