Kissing Shakespeare (39 page)

She couldn’t hold back a huge grin. “Don’t worry about it. You were … upset.”

I carried my things to the bench in front of the row of cupboards and grabbed my first gown off the rack. Someone, bless their organized heart, had carefully rearranged all the costumes in the correct order.

Before driving over here, I’d rummaged through my mother’s jewelry box and found a silver chain that matched the pendant perfectly. My dress was cut low, and I debated whether or not to leave the pendant on. But in my heart, I knew there was no way I was walking out on that stage without it. Macy came over and fastened me up the back. When I turned around, she gasped.

“What is that? It’s gorgeous!” She moved her hand as if to touch the pendant, and I spun around, pretending I needed something from my pack.

“Just a piece of costume jewelry. I thought it might be fun to wear it for the performances.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like costume jewelry. It looks authentic. Are you sure that’s not a real sapphire? And those pearls—they’re not the weird color of fake ones.”

“I’m sure, but thank you. Good to know it looks all right.”

“Oh, before I forget, Steve Langford hasn’t shown up. He didn’t even call—can you believe that? Jake Ryan is playing Lucentio.”

I plunked down on the bench, the breath rushing out of me. Of course Stephen wouldn’t be here for the performance! If Macy hadn’t reminded me, I might have totally lost it when I first saw Jake.

Katherine isn’t in Act I, so after the curtain went up, I had some time alone to compose myself. I thought about my mom and dad changing their plans and flying home just to see me. A miracle. I was sure they’d have to fly right back. It was a major sacrifice, one I would never have expected them to make. Long flights were definitely tough on actors. However it had come about, I was happy they were here.

I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and summoned the spirit of Will Shakespeare. Then I gathered up the tangled strands of Katherine’s character and weaved them together. All that I’d learned, both in the present and in the past, began to meld. Gramps was right about her—she
was
raised as a gentlewoman. In some respects she was similar to Jennet, forced to do her father’s bidding. And then, ironically, Petruchio’s. In the end, Katherine’s newfound passion, purpose, and serenity began to surface, allowing her to be at peace.

A sense of calm washed over me. I felt much more prepared and much less nervous than I had on opening night.

“Miranda?” It was Derek, Mr. Finley’s assistant. “Time to get in position. The first act is almost over.”

“Thanks, Derek. I’m coming.”

I joined Bianca onstage to begin the second act. With every line, I felt a new confidence. I allowed the language, rhythm, and meter to control my speech and my interpretation of Katherine. I wanted her love for Petruchio to shine from within. In the end, with her “advice to the wives” speech, I let the audience decide if she was being irreverent and ironic, or subdued and obedient. Perhaps something in between.

When we took our bows, the applause overwhelmed me. Cries of “Brava” shook the house. It seemed unreal. I’d never experienced anything like it. When I looked out at the audience, I glimpsed my mom and dad, on their feet with everybody else.

The curtain came down and the cast surrounded me, patting me on the back, hugging me, telling me how wonderful I’d been. When I tried to congratulate them, my voice was drowned out. Mr. Finley actually grabbed me by the shoulders and said, “Brilliant!” I laughed, feeling almost giddy. And then I spotted my mother and father making their way toward me. “Excuse me,” I said quickly, and ran to meet them.

My dad caught me up in a big hug. “Oh, Miranda, you were magnificent. Never has there been a truer Katherine.”

“I can’t believe you came all the way from Rome, but I’m so happy you did.”

He let me go, and there stood my mother, eyeing me with an odd expression on her face. Her beautiful dark hair looked ruffled from her travels, but her eyes were bright. With tears, I realized. When she spoke, her voice was soft. “I am so proud of you, darling. You made Katherine come alive. You own the role, now and forever.”

Wow
. I’d never heard such high praise for anyone from my mother.

Then she pulled me against her and hugged me tightly.

“Now, dear, I do have a few suggestions for you.…” I looked at Dad, and he rolled his eyes. I choked back a laugh.

“I’m sure you do, Mom. Come back to the dressing room with me. The cast will want to say hello.”

It seemed like hours before everyone left. I’d convinced my family to allow me a little time alone, but I was due at home for a celebration within an hour. Stretching it out for as long as possible, I removed my makeup, changed, and cleaned up. When I finished and there was nothing left to do, I stood utterly still and listened. Maybe I’d hear Stephen’s voice, or his footsteps. For a brief moment, I wondered if I’d dreamed him.

After a while, I sank down on the bench and reached for my pendant. I rubbed my thumb over the surface, tracing the facets of the sapphire and the roundness of the pearls. Then my fingers brushed over the inscription.
Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing
. I knew he wasn’t coming. I rose, reached for my backpack, and flipped out the lights.

“I will see you again someday, Stephen.”
I will see you again .…

F
ROM
W
ILLIAM
S
HAKESPEARE’S BIRTH
in 1564 to his arrival in London around 1590, no diaries or letters related to his personal life exist. Shakespeare scholars often refer to this period as “the lost years.” Other than the records of his baptism, marriage, and the births of his children, there are only a few inconclusive hints upon which to build a picture of his life.

One of the more intriguing theories about Shakespeare’s youth places him in northern England, serving as a schoolmaster. John Aubrey, in a seventeenth-century work called
Brief Lives
, was the first to make this assertion, which has been mentioned as an acceptable theory in many of the major biographies of Shakespeare since. There is some circumstantial evidence that Shakespeare’s father, once prosperous, was struggling financially at that time, and a university degree for his oldest son would have been out of the question. It makes sense that Will would have sought employment, especially if he lacked enthusiasm for his father’s trade as a glove maker. The family of John Cottom, one of Shakespeare’s schoolmasters in Stratford, lived near the Hoghtons in Lancashire. If asked, Cottom might have recommended Will for the post of private schoolmaster at Hoghton Tower.

A potential clue has been found in the will of Alexander Hoghton, the man who may have employed Shakespeare in 1581. Hoghton asked his neighbor and relative, Sir Thomas Hesketh, to be friendly to “William Shakeshafte nowe dwellynge with me.” Although it is not universally accepted that William Shakeshafte is Shakespeare, some scholars believe they are the same person.

A number of experts think Shakespeare had a means of continuing his studies. If he didn’t attend university, he almost certainly had access to a great library. The collection at Hoghton Tower would have fueled his intellect and imagination and helped fill in some of the gaps in his education.

About Edmund Campion, a renowned Jesuit priest of the time, we know more. By all accounts, he was a man of keen intellect, sharp wit, and great personal charm. He was educated at Oxford University and, after joining the Society of Jesus in Rome, returned to England in 1580 disguised as a merchant. At the time
Kissing Shakespeare
takes place, he was working on a document called “Ten Reasons,” in which he denounced Protestantism, proclaiming Catholicism the one true religion, and addressed Queen Elizabeth personally, exhorting her to renounce the new Church of England. Printed in secret, the small volume was brazenly placed on the benches at Oxford University’s Church of St. Mary before Commencement in 1581.

Ultimately tracked down by Francis Walsingham’s spy network, Edmund Campion was arrested in July of 1581 and sent to the Tower of London. He was tried, convicted, and sentenced to death as a traitor. Executed on December 1 of the same year, at the age of forty-one, he is considered to be a martyr by the Catholic Church. Campion was canonized in 1970 by Pope Paul VI.

Alexander Hoghton died in August of 1581, around the time of Campion’s arrest. His heirs continue to reside at Hoghton Tower, an Elizabethan manor house open to the public. It is near the city of Preston.

And the young Will Shakespeare? By the age of eighteen, he was living in Stratford, his birthplace, and married to Anne Hathaway, with whom he had three children. Eventually he made his way to London, where he was an actor in the theater companies for which he wrote his plays. In 1613, he retired to Stratford and died there in 1616, at the age of fifty-two.

Shakespeare remains the most celebrated writer in the English language.

I
AM INDEBTED TO
the many people who helped shepherd
Kissing Shakespeare
to publication. First, to my agent, Steven Chudney, whose encouragement and guidance were essential, and to my editor at Delacorte Press, Françoise Bui, whose insightful analysis of the story enabled me to find its heart. Thanks also to copy editors Nancy Elgin and Colleen Fellingham for their meticulous reading of the book, and to Stephanie Moss for the striking cover design. I would also like to thank Irene Gorak for reviewing and commenting on the author’s note.

Sir Bernard de Hoghton, whose family home, Hoghton Tower, provided the setting for
Kissing Shakespeare
, kindly answered numerous questions, not only about the house and grounds, but also about the intriguing story of the Shakespeare connection. Others on his staff generously shared their knowledge as well.

Stephen Greenblatt’s book
Will in the World
started me on this journey. For further explication of Shakespeare’s possible connection to the Jesuits, I depended on an essay by Richard Wilson called “Ghostly Fathers: Shakeshafte and the Jesuits,” which appeared in his book
Secret Shakespeare
. For an understanding of Edmund Campion, I relied on Evelyn Waugh’s well-known biography.

Without the help of my critique group, the Wild Folk, this would have been a different book. Their influence is evident on every page. I can never thank them enough. Along the way, my family, including my sisters, Janis Stubbs and Susan Dettling, provided encouragement and rallied me during the difficult times. Many friends cheered me on, and their interest and support has never flagged.

My daughter, Katie Mingle, read and critiqued the manuscript and served as my contemporary language authority. The pride that she and my stepdaughter, Dana Zedak, have in me brings me great joy.

And most of all, I want to thank my husband, Jim Mingle, my first reader, most thoughtful critic, biggest supporter, always-willing listener. Your love has guided me every step of the way.