The Book of Air and Shadows

struggle as I might I could not get free: & there was the box empty & the accusing coines strewn about. Then Mr W.S. held up a candle to my face sayinge Dick what’s this? Dost steal from thy friends? From me? With such a look on his face that I burst forth in unmanly teares. Then he sits me kindly upon a chayre & sending my captor to wait without he sits him too & saies Dick you are no thief, an you are in need cannot you come to your owen cosen, will Will not help thee? More teares upon this til I thought my harte would breke & say I Nay, thou art too goode for I am a foule traytour & no friend to thee for I have werked to thy destruction these manie moneths & now I am so tangled in complots I cannot see my waye clare, o woe &c. He saith, now Dick thou must confesse alle I shalbe thy priest & no man shall know what may be said between us.
    Soe, my Lord Earle, I tolde him all, which I have related to you before in this letter, the Lord Dunbarton, Mr Piggott, the playe of Mary & all the plottinges. And further what I had learned that morn at the Lamb, St. Clements, & the two murtherers who tread close upon us both. Here he looketh most grave & stroakes his beard som tyme & saith: Dick thou foolishe boy we must twist harde to scape these netts. O cosen saies I dost forgive me, & he answereth yea thou art a childe in these thynges and were compelled to advaunce the plotts of these rogues to save thee from the Tyburn daunce. Yet all is not lost, for I am no childe.
    Then he strides crost the room & back manie tymes, at last he saies know you the Lord Verey is clapped in the Tower, the same as carreyed you the supposed letter from my Lord of Rochester that began these merrie games; & I say nay, I did not & what’s this news to us? Why, he saies, Vesey is my lord Rochester’s man & if he be taken up, it telleth that he hath been discouvered plottinge in some way gainst the Spainish match, it matteres not howe & may soone be put to the queastion & thus all will be revealed & this affayre of oure play will oute withal. Therefore must they covere the trayle they have laid: you & I must be cut off & the play burnt, so my lord Dunbarton may saye if asked nay my lord tis but a phantasma of a racked man wherein I had no hand & no one left to give him the lye.
    I asked how we may escape this troubel what shal I do & he answereth canst use a sword lad & I saie passing onlie for I am a gonner & never learned fenceing & he saies no matter we shal have Spade & Mr Wyatt & Mr Johnson shal be of oure partie he hath killed his man, or soe he often saith & I too. What you, quoth I? Aye, saies he, have I not fought more duellos than half the dons in Flanders? Yea, but with false swords onlie, say I. Think you, so? saies he. This sword at my belt is no trumperie boy and have I not walked a thousand nights through Shore-ditch with a sack of silver from the box & fought cut-purse rogues for’t with my steel? Ask Spade can I wield a blade for he taught me & I ween he’ll call me not his least pupil: ho now Shake-spear shall shake sword to-night. Tremble thou murtherers!
    Soe did we gather oure forces Spade & Wyatt, Mr W.S. & Mr Johnson & mee at the George Inn at South-Wark & that night did set out Mr W.S. & I alone with the otheres at a distanse & lo we are set upon by these rogues three or foure of them I think. I drew but some man knocked me on the head & down & I saw naught but dark shapes & smale lights & when I could rise agen I saw Mr W.S. playing his blade & heard one cry oute in payne o I am slain you bugger & then did oure partie come to oure aide & fought, but I did but knele & spew. Yet we gayned the field those two murtherers dead & Mr Spade gets hym a hande-cart & lades the corpses upon it they will feed fishes saies he & Mr W.S. saies no mete but jointes for us Dick for fortnight at least lest we be called canibbals at one remove & no crabs til Michaelmas.

17
    I n the days following the Evening of Death I arranged our trip, which included my family as well as Crosetti. Amalie likes to spend the holidays in Zurich, and while she could have chartered a plane by herself, she took my offer of a lift, and I only had to cry a little and make her feel sorry for the trauma I had just been through, besides which it was a considerable savings, and like most rich people, Amalie prides herself on small economies.
    Cops-no problems there, but no information either. The captured thugs just laughed at them when asked who they worked for.