Here's the first story for the Historical Rulers Challenge by Abigail Leskey, who decided to write hers in play format this time. I hope you all enjoy!
Cold Winter’s Night
Dramatis Personae:
Mistress Magdalen Foye
Her daughter, Kat Foye
Her son, Thom
Her son Christopher, an infant.
Noblewomen 1 & 2
Queen’s physician
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scene I. The interior of a Tudor era home;
not belonging to peasantry—perhaps descendents of knights’ younger sons. Snow
is falling. Mistress Magdalen Foye is sitting near the fire with he infant son,
Christopher. Her son Thom is setting the table. They are shabby.
Thom: Kat
has been long gone.
Mistress
Foye: That I know, Thom. Perhaps the physician is elsewhere. Hush ye,
Christopher; poor sweet!
Thom: Will
she see the queen? The doctor’s house is near where the queen is. Kat said so;
she said Queen Mary’s staying at our lord’s place.
Mistress
Foye: The queen will be in; ‘tis snowing. I would not have sent Kat, only I
must stay with the child.
Enter Kat, snowy.
Kat: The
physician will not come.
Mistress
Foye: He will not?
Kat:
Because we cannot pay well, and because it is said thou are a heretic. As is
true!
Mistress
Foye: Thou are sure he will not come?
Kat: I have
no doubt.
Mistress
Foye: Do thou get Thom his supper. (Aside)
He refused; when my husband was on live, it would not have been so. Christopher suffers because I am a—heretic,
they call it. Poor innocent! Hush ye.
What can be done? What to do?
Kat: Are thou
muttering spells?
Mistress
Foye: Thou are worse than saucy, tonight. Thy father would have strapped thee.
Kat: My
father is dead because thy apostasy broke his heart.
Mistress
Foye: Hold thy tongue.
Kat: I will
not! My brother is dying, and the doctor will not come, because thou think thyself
above the church! We could pay him, if it were not that no one will give us
work because of thee; he would not refuse if not for thy soul! If thou were not my mother I would have reported thee to the
queen’s men. If I did not owe thee a duty—
Mistress
Foye: Does thou truly hate me, Kat?
Thom: I’ll
open it!
Mistress
Foye: What?
Thom opens the door. Enter two noblewomen.
Noblewoman
1: Greeting, mistress. We are wayfarers, who went too far and were met by
storm.
Mistress
Foye: You are welcome, gentles, though we have little to offer. Kat, do thou
help with their cloaks.
Noblewoman
2: I thank thee, child. We do not wish thy meat, only to bide a short time from
the storm. Is the babe ill, mistress?
Mistress
Foye: He is, alas!
Noblewoman 2 holds out her hands for him.
Noblewoman
2: He seems in need of a physician.
Mistress
Foye: The physician would not come.
Noblewoman
1: Wherefore?
Mistress
Foye: He—
Kat: We are
right poor. And ‘tis a foul night.
Noblewoman 2 hands Christopher back to his
mother.
Noblewoman
2: I know the queen’s physician: I shall fetch him.
Jane; The
weather, your—Wait until the storm slackens, prithee.
Noblewoman
2: The babe is sickening.
Noblewoman
1: Permit me—
Noblewoman
2: Thou are not well yet, from that cough. It is an act of charity; do not
hinder me.
Kat: Shall
I go with you, my lady, to guide you back again? I am well and strong.
Scene II. A village, a snowstorm racing
through it. Kat and Noblewoman 2 walking.
Kat: Do you
well, my lady?
Noblewoman
2: Well enough. Tell me of thy family, child.
Kat: My
father is dead. My mother and I sew and farm as we can. My brothers you saw;
they are young.
Noblewoman
2: Does thou think of marriage?
Kat: No one
desires me, my lady.
Noblewoman
2: Tut! I believe it not.
Kat: ‘Tis
true. May I ask if you be one of the Queen’s ladies?
Noblewoman
2: In a way, aye.
Kat: What
is she like, Queen Mary?
Noblewoman
2: She is tired!
Kat: I have
heard tell that she is ending heresy, my lady.
Noblewoman
2: It is her duty, child. (She sighs.) So much of it, all of a time. I hear say of it
in this village. A certain woman. Does thou know her?
Kat: Know
whom, my lady?
Noblewoman
2: A woman, a heretic.
Kat. I know
not, my lady.
Noblewoman
2: They are bold, and they will condemn many of my people. Of the English; I am English, so I call them
my people.
Kat: What,
my lady, would befall this heretic, were she caught?
Noblewoman
2: Repentance, I hope.
Kat: If
not?
Noblewoman
2: Death; and I would pray God to save her soul. Child, if thou know this
woman—
Kat: There
lies the hall, my lady.
Scene III Kat waits near fire for return of Noblewoman
2.
Kat: I have
perjured myself. I have betrayed my faith. Again, again, again; every time I go
to confession, speaking to this lady, speaking to any. But what can I do? She
is my mother. I cannot cause her burn—I am afraid to save her soul…
Enter Noblewoman 2 with Doctor.
Noblewoman
2: Are thou well, child?
Kat: I am,
my lady.
Doctor:
Again, I beg you to stay, yo—my lady. You are not strong.
Noblewoman2:
Do not hinder charity! Let us go.
Scene IV. The Foye’s house again. The doctor
is examining Christopher, while Mistress Foye and Thom watch. Kat and both
noblewomen are drawn aside out of the way.
Noblewoman
2: Thou are of gentle birth, Mistress Katherine?
Kat: (Distracted by Christopher) Aye, my lady.
My father’s father was Sir Oswald Foye’s son—the youngest of five.
Noblewoman
2: I should like to take thee into my service.
Kat: I
thank you, my lady. But my family stands in need—(she winces as Christopher coughs.)
Noblewoman
1: Nay, but with thee in the service of the que—
Noblewoman
2: Jane!
Jane
Dormer: I beg pardon—
Kat:
You-Your majesty?
Mary I
(Noblewoman 2): Sit, dear child. Fear not—I’m but a woman. I meant this not to
come out. Does thou like the offer?
Kat: Prithee, Your majesty, may I have space to
think? And my mother—
Mary: I
shall ask her.
Doctor: He
speweth! There. The lad shall be well now. ‘Twas but mucus.
Mistress
Foye: Thank Providence! And I thank you doctor, greatly. I can offer you
little—
Mary: Do
not concern thyself for that. I should like to take thy daughter Katherine into
my service, if it please thee and her.
Mistress
Foye: Kat? Into your service, my lady?
Mary: She
pleases me.
Mistress
Foye: May I ask who you are, my lady?
Jane: I am
Jane Dormer, the Queen’s lady, and I vouch for her. She does not wish to be
named.
Mary: Nay,
she ought to know. I am Mary Tudor, the queen—Doctor, she is ill.
Doctor:
Faintness. There. Sit down. The room’s hot.
Thom: It’s
cold!
Kat: Are thou
well, mother?
Mistress
Foye: Entirely. Your majesty, I beg your pardon.
Mary: Pray,
do not be distressed. Thou need not be.
Thom:
Mother, thou’re making her sad!
Kat: Hush,
Thom!
Christopher begins crying loudly, not in pain,
just because he is a baby. Kat cuddles him.
Mistress
Foye: Kat, I leave this to thee. Thou are a woman.
Kat: Your
majesty, mother, might I have time to think?
Mary: You
may.
Mistress
Foye: Aye.
Kat gives Christopher to Mistress Foye and goes
away from the fire, turning her back to the group.
Kat: Do I
have a choice? An I stay—I may offend the queen; she may think we’re not
inclined to her. An I go, my mother lives here, a heretic, with none to farm or
shield her; I know she’s less suspected for my piety. My piety! When I lie
forever! I would be among those of my own faith if I went, no disputes, no hiding—but
there would be hiding. Forever hiding. (She
leans her head against the wall.) I wish not to go, not truly. Jesu, show
me…
Mistress Foye’s voice rises.
Mistress
Foye: Your majesty, they seek truth.
Mary: They
seek it wrongly. It does not befit thee to speak in their favour. Almost—is
there a heretic here?
Mistress
Foye: Aye, more than one.
Mary: More!
Kat sees that she must stop this conversation.
She makes a hasty decision.
Kat: Your
Majesty?
Mary: Thou
have chosen?
Kat: I am
grateful for your kindness. I accept, Your Majesty.
Mary rises, smiling, forgetting previous
conversation, and takes Kat’s hands.
Mary: I am
glad, Katherine. And do not fear, Mistress, she shall have leave to come see
thee. And it is only right that I give great recompense for her absence.
Thom: Is
recompense pudding?
Kat: I will
be greatly honoured to serve the Defender of the Faith.
Mistress
Foye: O Kat!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note: I wanted to write about Mary I of England. This is
what ended up happening. The book The
History of Mary I., Queen of England: As Found in the Public Records,
Despatches of Ambassadors, in Original Private Letters, and Other Contemporary
Documents (Google eBook) by Jean Mary Stone (found here: http://books.google.com/books?id=upJKVgcx25wC&dq=mary+I&source=gbs_navlinks_s)
is one I consulted. I went through a period where I was rather into the Tudors
(and Mary’s my favourite; I’m sure plenty of books have influenced this,
particularly the style of speech. Thank you, authors.
Copyright© 2014 by Abigail Leskey
