London - Edward Rutherfurd [348]
The Globe theatre was a handsome structure. A huge open drum with an external diameter of over eighty feet, it was not strictly speaking round but, like the other playhouses, polygonal, with nearly twenty sides. In the centre was a large pit and around it, three tiers of galleries. The stage was big, and at its rear was a flat wall with two doorways, one on the left, one on the right, through which the actors made their exits and entrances. Behind the doors lay the tiring house. Above the line of the doors and stretching across the back of the stage was a minstrels’ gallery. It was also known, however, as the Lords’ Room. For when no music was required during the performance, the fashionable folk liked to sit up there, so that they could both watch the play and be admired by the audience as well.
High over the rear part of the stage was a wooden canopy, supported on stage by two stout pillars at its front corners. The ceiling of the canopy, when completed and painted with stars would be known as “Heavens”. Most amusing of all, to Cuthbert, was the special pulley and harness that would be used when one of the actors needed to fly over the stage.
Finally, over the roofline behind the stage, there was a turret from which, on play days, a man would sound a trumpet to let all London know that a performance was about to begin.
And so, through March, April, and into May, Cuthbert Carpenter laboured as the new Globe grew, until at last even its great thatched roof was finished, and the painters started to decorate its outside walls with fake windows, classical pediments and niches, so that it looked like a bright little simulacrum of a Roman amphitheatre. And sometimes, when he visited his grandmother and she asked him sharply where he had been, he would confuse her by declaring:
“I was in the Lords’ Room today. And I think, grandmother, that I saw the Heavens as well.”
As the Globe neared completion, the whole company felt a growing excitement. All London knew about the daring move across the river. As expected, Giles Allen had started legal proceedings over the removal of the structure, but this had only increased popular interest. Every playgoer in London was delighted to see the Chamberlain’s men make fools of the killjoy aldermen. The royal court was said to be highly amused. Even the rival Admiral’s men agreed: “You struck a blow for all of us.”
As for the building itself and its site, the company was satisfied that it had chosen well. The only disadvantage anyone could think of – and it was a small problem – concerned the access.
In order to reach the new Globe on foot, unless one lived in Southwark, it was necessary to walk over London Bridge. For those coming from the eastern part of the city, this was the direct route anyway; but for those coming from the western side, or the Inns of Court area, it meant either a tedious detour to the bridge, or the expense of a ferry – and even a party of eight would still have to pay sixpence for a wherry big enough to carry them all. “We may lose some of the young lawyers,” Fleming remarked to Jane; but with so many other arrangements to be made, no one had time to worry much about this minor matter.
For the Fleming family, the new arrangements meant a move, and during April Jane’s father began negotiating with several landlords to secure suitable lodgings near to the Globe, but not too close to the whorehouses.
One afternoon early in May, on her way back from inspecting a little house her father was interested in, Jane encountered John Dogget; and since neither of them were busy just then, they went to the George together.
He was his usual cheerful self. Though they had seen less of each other since the previous autumn, he seemed delighted to be with her. When she told him about the family’s forthcoming move to Southwark, he gave her a friendly smile and remarked: “You’ll be living near us then. I’m so glad.” And she realized that she was glad as well. Indeed,