Lament for a lost lover

When the last scene had been played and Bassanio united with Portia, the children embraced each other and laughed with joy and I think we all felt a little bemused. Monsieur Lamotte made a little speech and said he thought we had enjoyed his little play and as for himself he had never played before a more appreciative audience-which I imagine was true.

The maids scurried to the kitchens, and props were cleared away and very soon we were sitting down to a meal such as, I was sure, had rarely been served before in Chateau Congreve.

There was magic abroad that night. Dick whispered to me that our good fairies had sent the snow so that those wonderful people could come to Congreve. The Lambards stayed to supper and Madame Lambard brought in a great pie full of chicken and pork topped with a gold-brown crust. She had heated it in the oven, she said, and had she known how we were to be honoured, the crust should have been made to represent a stage, for, she confided, she was a dab hand with a bit of pie crust.

Monsieur Lambard brought in a cask of wine. This was an occasion we should never forget.

The children were too excited to be sent to bed and I said that as a special treat they might stay up ... even Fenn. Though it was true that before long he was fast asleep on Madame Lamotte’s lap.

They talked ... all of them at the same time, for it was clear that they preferred talking to listening, so there were several conversations going on, which annoyed me as I could not bear not to hear all that was being said. Monsieur Lamotte, as the head of the group, had taken the place on my right hand and he engaged me in conversation, and he told me of the plays which he had acted in and the towns throughout the country where he had played.

“My ambition is to play before King Louis himself. He is a lover of the theatre, which is what we would expect of one of such talents, eh? What they want is comedy, I believe. We need good comedies. There is enough tragedy in the world, little lady. People want to laugh. Do you agree?”

I was ready to agree with anything he said. I was as bemused as the rest. Harriet was seated halfway down the table next to Jabot. They were whispering together and she seemed angry... I noticed that Fleurette was watching them. There was some drama going on there. I was very interested in what Monsieur Lamotte was saying but I was intrigued by Harriet. I should have liked to know what she and Jabot were quarrelling about.

I was glad when the conversation became general and they all started talking of their plays and acting little bits for us. Harriet sang most of them songs we knew from Shakespeare. She sang in French and then in English, and the one I remembered particularly was:

“What is love? ‘tis not hereafter;

Present mirth hath present laughter;

What’s to come is still unsure:

In delay there lies no plenty;

Then come and kiss me, sweet and twenty,

Youth’s a stuff will not endure.”

She had a lute, and as she sang she played it so sweetly, and I thought I had never seen anyone as lovely as Harriet was with her black hair falling over her shoulders and her eyes a luminous blue in that pale strange face.

“There should be more singing on stage,” said Madame Lamotte, caressing Fenn’s soft blond hair. “The audience likes it.”

“You have a beautiful voice,” I said, looking straight at Harriet.

She lifted her shoulders. “It passes,” she replied.

“What wonderful lives you all must have!” I cried. They laughed and I could not quite understand the glances which passed between them. I knew later they were a little cynical.

Monsieur Lamotte said: “Aye, it is a grand life ... I’d take no other. Hard at times. And for the English players now ... life is a tragedy. What a barbarian this man Cromwell is! There is no longer a theatre in England I understand. God help your poor country, little lady.”

“When the King comes back there will be theatres again,” I said. “People will not want the old Globe and the Cockpit,” said Harriet. “They will want new playhouses. I wonder if I shall ever see them.”

Then the talk became general. More wine was drunk and the candles guttered, and although I did not want the evening to end, my eyelids were pressing down over my eyes as though they refused to stay open any longer. The children were all asleep and Lucas was finding it hard to keep awake. I told Jeanne that the children should be taken to their beds and they were carried off, Mrs. Lamotte insisting on carrying Fenn.

This broke up the party, and it was Madame Lamotte, back in the hall after kissing Fenn and all the children fondly, a fact of which they were too sleepy to be aware, who announced that they should get some sleep as they had a heavy day’s travel ahead of them.