Sleep of Death

Cover Sleep of Death
Authors:
Genres: Fiction
Players aren’t supposed to know plays, players are only supposed to know their parts.
‘I’ve seen it,’ I said. ‘Last month. You were magnificent. No flattery. I have said that to many others since then, before I am saying it to you now.’ Nerves were twisting my speech. What was intended as genuine compliment came out as clumsy buttering-up. And pompous, as well as patronising, considering I was talking to a man old enough to be my father.
Master Burbage shrugged but was graceful enough to smile.
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‘I’ve played with the Admiral’s Men,’ I said, to change the subject. ‘Nottingham’s, I should say.’ ‘The Admiral’s will do. That’s what they were on this side of the river. How do they do in the north of the town?’ ‘Well enough,’ I said.
‘Tactful, Master Revill,’ said Burbage. ‘The audiences are different over there, more respectable – and more respectful – than our Southwark spectators. But the Admiral’s Men ran away when we appeared south of the river, essentially they ran away, although Henslowe would claim that it was purely commercial.’ ‘Everything is commercial with Master Henslowe,’ I said.
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