No, I will come inside.
Of course, my lord, he surrendered. It will be an honor to me.
He led the way into the inner room and John Dee followed him. The young lord, Robert Dudley, took a seat on one of the stools and looked at me with interest.
Twelve years old?
Yes, sir, I lied promptly, although in truth I was nearly fourteen.
And a maid, though dressed as a lad.
Yes, sir.
No marriage arranged for you?
Not straightaway, sir.
But a betrothal in sight?
Yes, sir.
And who has your father picked out for you?
I am to marry a cousin from my mothers family when I am sixteen, I replied. I dont particularly wish it.
Youre a maid, he scoffed. All young maids say they dont wish it.
I shot a look at him which showed my resentment too clearly.
Oho! Have I offended you, Mistress Boy?
I know my own mind, sir, I said quietly. And I am not a maid like any other.
Clearly. So what is your mind, Mistress Boy?
I dont wish to marry.
And how shall you eat?
I should like to have my own shop, and print my own books.
And do you think a girl, even a pretty one in breeches, could manage without a husband?
I am sure I could, I said. Widow Worthing has a shop across the lanes.
A widow has had a husband to give her a fortune, she didnt have to make her own.
A girl can make her own fortune, I said stoutly. I should think a girl could command a shop.
And what else can a girl command? he teased me. A ship? An army? A kingdom?
You will see a woman run a kingdom, you will see a woman can run a kingdom better than any in the world before, I fired back, and then checked at the look on his face. I put my hand over my mouth. I didnt mean to say that, I whispered. I know that a woman should always be ruled by her father or husband.
He looked at me as if he would hear more. Do you think, Mistress Boy, that I will live to see a woman rule a kingdom?
In Spain it was done, I said weakly. Once. Queen Isabella.
He nodded and let it go, as if drawing us both back from the brink of something dangerous. So. Dyou know your way to Whitehall Palace, Mistress Boy?
Yes, sir.
Then when Mr. Dee has chosen the books he wants to see, you can bring them there, to my rooms. All right?
I nodded.
How is your fathers shop prospering? he asked. Selling many books? Many customers coming?
Some, I said cautiously. But it is early days for us yet.
Your gift does not guide him in his business, then?
I shook my head. It is not a gift. It is more like folly, as he says.
You speak out? And you can see what others cannot?
Sometimes.
And what did you see when you looked at me?
His voice was pitched very low, as if he would lead me to whisper a reply. I raised my eyes from his boots, his strong legs, his beautiful surcoat, to the soft folds of his white ruff, his sensuous mouth, his half-lidded dark eyes. He was smiling at me, as if he understood that my cheeks, my ears, even my hair felt hot as if he were the sun from Spain on my head. When I first saw you, I thought I knew you.
From before? he asked.
From a time to come, I said awkwardly. I thought that I would know you, in the days ahead.
Not if you are a lad! He smiled to himself at the bawdiness of his thought. So what condition will I be in when you know me, Mistress Boy? Am I to be a great man? Am I to command a kingdom while you command a bookshop?
Indeed, I hope you will be a great man, I said stiffly. I would say nothing more, this warm teasing must not lull me into thinking that it was safe to confide in him.
What dyou think of me? he asked silkily.
I took a quiet breath. I think that you would trouble a young woman who was not in breeches.
He laughed out loud at that. Please God that is a true seeing, he said. But I never fear trouble with girls, it is their fathers who strike me with terror.
I smiled back, I could not help myself. There was something about the way his eyes danced when he laughed that made me want to laugh too, that made me long to say something extraordinarily witty and grown-up so that he would look at me and see me not as a child but as a young woman.
And have you ever foretold the future and it came true? he asked, suddenly serious.
The question itself was dangerous in a country that was always alert for witchcraft. I have no powers, I said quickly.
But without exerting powers, can you see the future? It is given to some of us, as a holy gift, to know what might be. My friend here, Mr. Dee, believes that angels guide the course of mankind and may sometimes warn us against sin, just as the course of the stars can tell a man what his destiny might be.
I shook my head doltishly at this dangerous talk, determined not to respond to him.
He looked thoughtful. Can you dance or play an instrument? Learn a part in a masque and say your lines?
Not very well, I said unhelpfully.
He laughed at my reluctance. Well, we shall see, Mistress Boy. We shall see what you can do.
I gave my little boyish bow and took care to say nothing more.
Next day, carrying a parcel of books and a carefully rolled scroll of manuscript, I walked across the town, past the Temple Bar and past the green fields of Covent Garden to Whitehall Palace. It was cold with a sleety rain which forced my head down and made me pull my cap low over my ears. The wind off the river was as icy as if it were coming straight from the Russias, it blew me up Kings Street to the very gates of Whitehall Palace.
I had never been inside a royal palace before, and I had thought I would just give the books to the guards on the gate, but when I showed them the note that Lord Robert had scrawled, with the Dudley seal of the bear and staff at the bottom, they bowed me through as though I were a visiting prince, and ordered a man to guide me.
Inside the gates, the palace was like a series of courtyards, each beautifully built, with a great garden in the middle set with apple trees and arbors and seats. The soldier from the gate led me across the first garden and gave me no time to stop and stare at the finely dressed lords and ladies who, wrapped in furs and velvets against the cold, were playing at bowls on the green. Inside the door, swung open by another pair of soldiers, there were more fine people in a great chamber, and behind that great room another, and then another. My guide led me through door after door until we came to a long gallery and Robert Dudley was at the far end of it, and I was so relieved to find him, the only man I knew in the whole palace, that I ran a few steps toward him and called out: My lord!
The guard hesitated, as if he would block me from getting any closer, but Robert Dudley waved him aside. Mistress Boy! he exclaimed. He got to his feet and then I saw his companion. It was the young king, King Edward, fifteen years of age and beautifully dressed in plush blue velvet but with a face the color of skimmed milk and thinner than any lad I had ever seen before.
I dropped to my knee, holding tight to my fathers books and trying to doff my cap at the same time, as Lord Robert remarked: This is the girl-boy. Dont you think she would be a wonderful player?
I did not look up but I heard the kings voice, thinned with pain. You take such fancies, Dudley. Why should she be a player?
Her voice, Dudley said. Such a voice, very sweet, and that accent, part Spanish and part London, I could listen to her forever. And she holds herself like a princess in beggars clothes. Dont you think shes a delightful child?
I kept my head down so that he should not see my delighted beam. I hugged the words to my skinny chest: a princess in beggars clothes, a sweet voice, delightful.
The young king returned me to the real world. Why, what part should she play? A girl, playing a boy, playing a girl. Besides, its against Holy Writ for a girl to dress as a boy. His voice tailed away into a cough which shook him like a bear might shake a dog.
I looked up and saw Dudley make a little gesture toward the young man as if he would hold him. The king took his handkerchief from his mouth and I saw a glimpse of a dark stain, darker than blood. Quickly, he tucked it out of sight.
Its no sin, Dudley said soothingly. Shes no sinner. The girl is a holy fool. She saw an angel walking in Fleet Street. Can you imagine it? I was there, she truly did.
The younger man turned to me at once, his face brightened with interest. You can see angels?
I kept down on my knee and lowered my gaze. My father says I am a fool, I volunteered. I am sorry, Your Grace.
But did you see an angel in Fleet Street?
I nodded, my eyes downcast. I could not deny my gift. Yes, sire. I am sorry. I was mistaken. I didnt mean to give offense
What can you see for me? he interrupted.
I looked up. Anyone could have seen the shadow of death on his face, in his waxy skin, in his swollen eyes, in his bony thinness, even without the evidence of the stain on his handkerchief and the tremor of his lips. I tried to tell a lie but I could feel the words coming despite myself. I see the gates of heaven opening.
Again, Robert Dudley made that little gesture, as if he would touch the boy, but his hand fell to his side.
The young king was not angry. He smiled. This child tells the truth when everyone else lies to me, he said. All the rest of you run around finding new ways to lie. But this little one He lost his breath and smiled at me.
Your Grace, the gates of heaven have been opened since your birth, Dudley said soothingly. As your mother ascended. The girls saying nothing more than that. He shot me an angry look. Arent you?
The young king gestured to me. Stay at court. You shall be my fool.
I have to go home to my father, Your Grace, I said as quietly and as humbly as I could, ignoring Lord Roberts glare. I only came today to bring Lord Robert his books.
You shall be my fool and wear my livery, the young man ruled. Robert, I am grateful to you for finding her for me. I shant forget it.
It was a dismissal. Robert Dudley bowed and snapped his fingers for me, turned on his heel and went from the room. I hesitated, wanting to refuse the king, but there was nothing to do but bow to him and run after Robert Dudley as he crossed the huge presence chamber, negligently brushing off the couple of men who tried to stop him and ask after the health of the king. Not now, he said.
He went down a long gallery, toward double doors guarded by more soldiers with pikes, who flung them open as we approached. Dudley passed through to their salute and I went after him at a run, like some pet greyhound scampering at its masters heels. Finally we came to a great pair of doors where the soldiers wore the Dudley livery and we went in.