Goodbye 1589, Hello 1590!

This isn’t a scene from one of the books (not even a deleted one) but it was a fun little writing exercise I did in the new year. Here’s what the actors from Lord Hawkesbury’s Players predict is in store for them as the calendar rolls into 1590:

Will Shakespeare: “I will have one of my plays performed.”

Roger Style: “No you won’t. What manager would put on a play written by a country idiot?”

Freddie Putney: “What manager would put on a play written by a woman?”

Roger Style: “Yes, well…”

Edward Style: “I predict Freddie will fall down drunk, lose an eye or his virginity.”

Henry Wells: “Nothing important then.”

Freddie: “Hey!  I’ll have you know I lost my virginity a long time ago.”

Edward: “Doing it yourself doesn’t count.”

Will: “I predict Mistress Peabody will become Mistress Blakewell.”

Edward: “Anyone could tell you that.  What about predicting something more difficult.  Like the succession.”

Roger: “Shhh, do you want to have us all dragged to Tyburn?”

Henry: “I think the queen’ll wed some foreign prince this year, bear a healthy child and the issue will be resolved once and for all.”

Will: “All in one year?”

Freddie: “Wed?  At her age?  She’s almost a hundred isn’t she?  Who would take a dried up old prune like her?”

Roger: “Freddie, shut it.”

Edward: “She’s a rich and powerful old prune.”

Will: “So who’s next in line if she dies this year without heirs?”

Everyone shrugs.

Henry: “I predict great times ahead for Lord Hawkesbury’s Players.”

Roger: “I’ll drink to that!”

Will: “With a different boy actor.”

Freddie: “What?”

Will: “Your voice will break soon enough and you might even grow hair on that weak chin.”

Edward: “We got some time before that happens.”

Henry: “Years.”

Freddie:  “Fuck you all.”

Roger: “Shut your mouth, Putney, or I’ll end your apprenticeship.”

Will: “I predict Roger will actually follow up on his threat to end Freddie’s apprenticeship.”

Henry: “I predict you’ll be wrong.”

Edward: “I predict Alice Croft will find herself a good match this year and get married.”

Freddie: “Alice?  Who would wed that prickly peach?”

Roger: “Peaches aren’t prickly.”

Will: “She’ll find someone equally prickly I suspect.”

Freddie: “Or mad.”

Edward: “Whatever happens, it will be an interesting year for us all.”

Will: “Aye. Happy new year!”