Shakespeare's plays no longer aroused the same enthusiasm as they had at the Globe Theatre. Their content was too difficult for the common folk. The regulars of roadside taverns were much more drawn to the easy, vulgar performances of amateur troupes.
Therefore, the actors of the Lord Chamberlain's Company were greatly surprised when, at an inn, they encountered a man fascinated by "Hamlet." He introduced himself as Gamaliel Ratseis. After the evening performance, he invited all the actors to his room. There, he expressed his enthusiasm and admiration for the play, as well as his appreciation for the author. William Shakespeare was genuinely surprised by the man's behavior.
A week later, at an inn on the road connecting Nottingham with Cambridge, they encountered the same man again. He, delighted, asked William Shakespeare to perform "Hamlet" again, this time just for him, and offered the company forty shillings. After a short discussion, the actors agreed. They had been struggling financially for some time, so the substantial sum was quite an incentive. Their performance was brilliant. It greatly delighted Gamaliel Ratseis, and early the next morning they set off again, heading towards Cambridge.
"Not bad, gentlemen. We made a lot of money yesterday," William Shakespeare rejoiced.
"I'd like to return to London," said his brother, Edmund. As an actor, he proved utterly untalented, but William, obedient to his father's wishes, made sure Edmund had plenty of small roles.
"Let's stop for a moment," suggested Thomas Pope. "I have a bad feeling."
Indeed, Pope's intuition was right. As they paused, the well-known Gamaliel Ratseis emerged from the bushes with ten robbers armed with clubs and axes.
"Greetings, dear friends. We have met again. This time, however, the circumstances may be less agreeable to you," said the man who had just yesterday admired "Hamlet." "Although you are excellent actors, you are not without your naivety." He then turned to John Hemings: "Don't try any tricks, dear Polonius. Give me your money back."
The actor, seeing the eleven thugs before him, obediently handed over the purse he had received the previous day. Gamaliel Ratseis then turned to Richard Burbadge:
"Sir, I have never met such a wonderful actor. I must admit I was moved, admiring you as Hamlet. You made a profound impression on me. "
He glanced around the entire troupe.
"You are wasting your time here, dear comedians, performing your plays to mere drunkards. Return to London, where great fame awaits you. The plague is receding; Elizabeth has allowed the theaters to reopen.
Even the advice of robbers can be good." The Lord Chamberlain's company found itself back in the capital in mid-March 1603. But a few days later, the troupe received very sad news.
Another sad chapter in the story of the death and funeral of the great Queen Elizabeth.
After Essex's death sentence was pronounced, Elizabeth was no longer the same queen. Her health steadily deteriorated. The best doctors were brought in from all over England and abroad, but all were helpless. Elizabeth was unable to find solace, often wandering the palace chambers at night, conversing with the Earl of Essex in her dreams. All of England was deeply concerned about the queen's actions. In March 1603, Elizabeth, now over seventy years old and very ill, moved to Richmond Palace.
The wind was fierce, the temperature dropped below freezing, and sleet and snow were driving down. London's streets were deserted, but people stayed indoors. Choruses for the queen's health were offered in packed churches.
All to no avail. The queen weakened daily. No one had any hope of saving her life. On the evening of March 23rd, very bad news arrived from Richmond Palace—Elizabeth was dying.
Early the next morning, England was plunged into mourning. All festivals and entertainments, few in number anyway, were canceled due to the still-devastating plague. Women took to the streets in black scarves. The weather also perfectly matched the mood. Torrential rains fell continuously, accompanied by biting cold. Elizabeth's coffin was left in the Tower of London for a month so that everyone could pay their last respects to the Queen. Residents from all over England, as well as foreign dignitaries, flocked to London. The funeral was scheduled for April 28th. As the date approached, London increasingly filled with visitors. Inns and taverns had long been full. All English people wanted to accompany Elizabeth on her final journey.
Poets rushed to write verses praising the Queen. William Shakespeare did not join them. He was so engrossed in work on his new play, "Othello," that he did not shed a single tear after Elizabeth's death.
Eve Black was approaching London. She had received permission from her parents to return home for a period of mourning. She wanted to be there to pay her last respects to the Queen, but she also hoped to meet Michael Smith. As she passed the place where the boy had once lived, she shouted to the driver to halt the horses for a moment. At the sight of the ruin, she wept bitterly. She realized that the plague had not spared even this poor boy. Squeezed into a corner of the carriage, she sank into gloomy thoughts. Her parents later marveled that their daughter had been so deeply moved by the Queen's death.
Meanwhile, Michael Smith didn't have a penny with him. He was constantly dirty and in shabby, torn clothes. Every day, he begged outside The Globe. The Lord Chamberlain's Company recognized the boy and felt sincere pity for him, but there was little they could do for him beyond giving him a few pennies every now and then.
When the theater closed, Smith would move to London Bridge and beg for alms.
April 28, 1603, arrived. Church bells had been ringing since early morning. Thousands of people poured out onto the streets of London. The funeral procession departed from the courtyard of the Tower of London and headed to the tomb prepared in Henry VII's chapel in Westminster Abbey. The procession was impressive. Four black horses pulled a magnificent, beautiful coffin draped in purple velvet. Courtiers followed, eager to pay their final respects to the Queen. Thousands bowed. Loud weeping could be heard in the streets. The subjects were unable to come to terms with the death of their queen.
Michael Smith circulated among the mourners. As he had expected, the people of that day were exceptionally generous. It was as if, along with their sadness, their hearts were filled with compassion for all the poor and disadvantaged. This assured Michael Smith that he would not suffer hunger in the coming days. He had only faint memories of Queen Elizabeth. He had seen her only once, only once. Her beautiful, long, red hair and her resolute voice were etched in his memory. He regretted that the queen had died, as he had heard so many good things about her. Michael wept. He didn't know whether for Elizabeth's fate or for his own poverty. He didn't want to be pitied, but how could he change a life that was a constant series of humiliations? Suddenly he stopped and wiped his tears. He thought he spotted a familiar face in the crowd.
Dreams Come True, or the Story of a Certain Encounter.
Yes! It was William Shakespeare, someone he admired. A wizard he had once seen in the theater. Without a second thought, Michael Smith ran to him. He instinctively felt that his entire future might depend on this single moment.
"Morning... Good morning...
" "Good morning," Shakespeare replied, looking at the stuttering rag in surprise.
"Your name is... William Shakespeare... Shakespeare, isn't it?" "He asked with childish naivety.
Yes, that's true. That's my name."
"You know what? Once, when I was little, I saw your play and I really liked it. Because you know what? There were a lot of fights there, and there was this king who died at the end... At the end.
" "You probably mean 'Richard II'?" William suggested, a slight smile crossing his face.
"And you know what? I admire you immensely, because you invent such beautiful stories. I wish I could do the same.
" "It's not that easy, boy. Tell me, what's your name?"
"Michael Smith, sir. My parents used to look after me, but they both died of that plague that's going on in London now. And now I'm completely alone. I don't know what to do with myself. I'm a beggar, I barely manage to survive. Do you understand?
" "I know you! You're the one who sits outside The Globe?"
"Yes, that's me. I can't make money any other way. But, you know, I promised someone I'd never steal. Sometimes it's hard to keep a promise, isn't it? "
"True. "
Shakespeare wanted to leave, but Smith decided to hold him at all costs.
"Wait a little longer. Because you know what? I live in a hut on the edge of the forest. It's hard to survive the winter there, but if I could come to the theater sometimes, I swear I'd be happy. Only I don't have money for a ticket."
Shakespeare felt a surge of emotion.
"You can come to my theater whenever you like. Tell me again, what's your name?
" "Michael Smith, sir."
Anna Hathaway, who had been standing to the side, watching the little rascal with sympathy, leaned over to her husband and whispered something in his ear. He nodded approvingly and turned to Michael Smith.
"Listen, boy. We need a servant. You'll have a lot to learn, but I think you'll manage. You'll have a lot of work, but in return you'll get a warm place, clean clothes, and you won't go hungry. What do you say to that?"
Michael Smith was speechless for a moment, then threw himself at the feet of his benefactors. To live in a real home. To earn one's bread honestly... This is how dreams come true!
Promotion, or James I ascends the throne
. Difficult times had come for the English. The country was ruled by a ruler with ambitions to create a United Kingdom of England, Scotland, and Ireland. Such a king was not wanted. There were whispers, plots, and an uprising could break out at any moment.
Meanwhile, the plague had intensified again in London. Helpless citizens lit bonfires throughout the city, trying to scare the epidemic away. However, it was to no avail. Every day, more and more sick people appeared, their skin covered in black blisters.
Richard Burbadge rode his horse, his head bowed sadly. He rode up to Shakespeare's house, dismounted, and knocked. Anne Hathaway opened the door.
"William?"
"Yes. Has something happened?
" "Unfortunately.
" Will, who had heard the entire conversation, ran to the door.
"Hello, Richard. For God's sake, what happened?!
" "Two of our colleagues, Thomas Pope and William Kempe, passed away that night. They will remain in our memories forever.
" "Oh, no!" Shakespeare buried his face in his hands. "Why them? What terrible plague has befallen London?! Did we really deserve such divine punishment?"
"I don't know, William. No one knows." The doctors spread their hands helplessly.
"We can't risk the lives of any more actors. We're leaving this accursed city in a week.
" James I decided against a spectacular entry into London. He feared the outraged populace and the ongoing plague. He took up residence in the Tower of London, and on July 25th, a quiet coronation ceremony took place. The new king's entire family also arrived in London, as did his favorite actor, Lawrence Fletcher. Yes, exactly. James's passion was theater. He had heard of the Lord Chamberlain's Company, and the famous playwright William Shakespeare who performed there. Moreover, when he settled in London, he had certain plans for this group...
At The Globe Theatre, the Lord Chamberlain's Company was rehearsing their latest production, "Measure for Measure." When someone knocked on the door, Richard Burbadge went to answer it and saw a slim man dressed in rich robes.
"Good morning, gentlemen. My name is Lawrence Fletcher, and I bear the orders of His Majesty, James I," said the visitor, producing a letter bearing the royal seal.
The letter, read aloud, read as follows:
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