Upstart Crow

by Ben Elton

  WILL: Thanks, mate.

  KIT MARLOWE: Mind you, not sure about this teenage romance thing you’ve been banging on about. I’m not gonna lie. Sounds lame.fn2

  BOTTOM: Same. I think it’s wet.

  KATE: I love it.

  WILL: Well, as it happens, I’ve decided to shelve Romeo for now. I need a guaranteed smash to cement my reputation and sadly lovey-dovey smoochie-woochie just ain’t gonna cut it.

  KIT MARLOWE: Yeah, you’ve got that right. The plebs want violence and murder.

  BOTTOM: Course we do!

  WILL: So this morning I knocked out a really satisfying Richard the Third.

  BOTTOM: Ugh!

  KIT MARLOWE: Bit too much information, Will.

  KATE: I mean, why do we need to know?

  KIT MARLOWE: Hmm.

  WILL: It’s a play.fn3

  KIT MARLOWE: Oh, right.

  WILL: But even Richard must wait, because the one I’m really pleased with is my big new Jew play.

  KIT MARLOWE: Ah, yes! Love a Jew play! No chance you’ll give it to me, I suppose?

  WILL: No, Kit, I’m afraid not.

  KIT MARLOWE: Oh come on! It’s just the sort of thing I should be writing.

  WILL: Then why don’t you?

  KIT MARLOWE: You know why.

  WILL: Ah, of course, your other job, hunting Catholics for Walsingham’s torture chamber.

  KIT MARLOWE: Defending the one true, pure and divine faith.

  WILL: And this being the one true, pure and divine faith that Henry the Eighth basically invented so that he could dump his Mrs and have it away with bonker Boleyn?

  KIT MARLOWE: Yes, that’s the one.

  WILL: A romance so spiritually true, pure and divine that it went from rumpy-pumpy lovey-dovey to choppy-whoppy heady-deady in just three years.fn4

  KIT MARLOWE: I don’t make the rules, Will!

  WILL: Well, I’m sorry, but you can’t have my Jew play. I’m on a roll and it’s my time to shine.

  KIT MARLOWE: Fine, can’t really blame you, I suppose. I’m off to the bawdy house for a quaff and a roger.

  Marlowe doth rise to leave. He is wearing rakish stripy tights and is clearly most proud of his pretty thighs.

  KATE: Pretty hose, Mr Marlowe, very trendy. Très jolie, monsieur.

  KIT MARLOWE: Italian, the latest thing.

  WILL: Gosh, I envy you, Kit. I could never carry off tights like that. I’m afraid they’d just wear me.

  KIT MARLOWE: Oh, don’t be ridiculous, you’ve just gotta strut!

  Marlowe doth thrust his codpiece forward. Kate doth squeak and blush most prettily.

  KIT MARLOWE: That’s all. You’re too apologetic. Just get out there and show the world that you don’t give a damn. Hey!

  Marlowe thrusts once more and Kate doth squeak again.

  KIT MARLOWE: I love ya loads.

  Marlowe leaves.

  WILL: Easy for him to say. The problem is I do give a damn. I crave approval and people sense that in me.

  BOTTOM: It’s true, you’re very needy.

  KATE: Not needy. Just nice.

  WILL: People don’t like nice, they look upon it as weakness. I want to be liked and so for some dark reason located deep in the human soul, people are less inclined to like me. Marlowe, on the other hand, doesn’t give a tosslington, so everyone wants to be his mate.fn5

  KATE: I’m just like you, Mr Shakespeare. Girls used to call me a try-hard because I wanted to make friends, but the more I tried the more they’d pull my hair and stab me with their knitting needles. But in the end I made three great pals – Latin, Greek and Mathematics.

  WILL: A good lesson for all us fartsome try-hards, Kate. What we lack in easy charm we must make up for with talent and hard work. And mine is finally paying off! I have my big new Jew play ready for Burbage and an invitation to Southampton’s prancings in the pocket of my puffling pants. (Stands most proudly) Even Robert Greene, who doth hate my gutlings, must now admit I am the coming man!

  Will attempts to pose in the strutting manner Marlowe assumed, putting his foot upon the table. He looketh an arsemongle.

  ROBERT GREENE’S OFFICE – NIGHT

  Robert Greene is in a dark and dangerous mood.

  ROBERT GREENE: William Shakespeare – curse him for an oafish country bumsnot. Already are his first three Henrys hits, whilst mine own sublime Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay fades in the fickle memory of the mob. (Takes out a dagger) Many a time and oft have I thought to dispatch this upstart crow with steel, but such a death would be too quick for one so base. Instead have I employed a crueller weapon. Tomorrow all London will know how Robert Greene doth treat a low pretender to the rank of gentleman. For never more a poet will I be. Instead, I am become a critic. A critic! A critic! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!

  Greene laughs manically and stabbeth the air.fn6

  THE RED LION THEATRE – DAY

  The players be assembled. Condell holds a paper most gloatingly.

  CONDELL: Greene’s review is out and it’s an absolute stinkington.

  BURBAGE: Oh, no! Ouch! ‘Upstart crow’. That’ll hurt. See, you’re right, Condell. He’ll hide away for a while after this.

  KEMPE: Mm, yeah, nasty. Mind you, might be the wake-up call he needs. So …

  BURBAGE: I beg your pardon, Kempe?

  KEMPE: This is the sixteenth century. He has to move on. Test the boundaries, challenge the form, yeah? Like with his comedy. Comedy isn’t jokes, comedy is attitude. It’s not what you say, it’s what you don’t say.

  BURBAGE: Do shut up, Kempe.

  WILL’S LONDON LODGINGS – DAY

  The Bard is also reading the review.

  WILL: ‘Upstart crow’? He calls me ‘upstart crow’? I can’t believe it. I mean, one welcomes intelligent criticism, but this is just abuse!

  BOTTOM: I thought you never read reviews?

  WILL: Well, we all say that, Bottom, but it isn’t true, obviously. We contrive to bring the good ones to the notice of our friends, while letting the bad ones eat into our souls until the day we die.

  BOTTOM: Don’t be so soft. It’ll be forgot by tomorrow.

  WILL: That used to be the case but since printing took off, bad reviews hang around for ever. Woe to Albion that through this new invention any clueless arsemongle may make his puerile twitterings known to the world. As Robert Greene has done with his oh-so-amusing pamphlet, A Groatsworth of Wit.

  KATE: You have to admit it’s a pretty good title.

  WILL: Huh! If such little wit be worth a groat, then a king’s ransom would not purchase my brilliant gag about waking up in an enchanted forest and falling in love with a donkey.fn7

  BOTTOM: Seriously, master, you didn’t expect Greene to be nice to you? He’s a rival poet. For a genius you don’t know much about human nature.

  WILL: Actually, understanding human nature is one of my big things.

  BOTTOM: Well then, you should be able to see that he’s jealous. He’s jealous like, erm, like a …

  WILL: The green-eyed monster that doth mock the meat it feeds on?fn8

  BOTTOM: Well, I was gonna say like a talentless turd in tights. Which actually I think is better. The point is, don’t let him live in your head rent-free, yeah? Who cares what he thinks?fn9

  WILL: I care! These salty barbs will ruin me! All London will revel in my shame.

  BOTTOM: Yeah, cos everyone in London’s talking about you, aren’t they? Got nothing else to worry about at all, eh? ‘Got the plague? Could be worse, I could have been called an uppity crow!’ ‘Starving to death? Oh, at least you haven’t had a bad review!’

  WILL: Yes, all right, Bottom.

  BOTTOM: Yeah. ‘Burned alive for refusing to deny Jesus were made of wine and wafers? Well, that’s nothing. Will Shake got called an upstart crow by a posh boy!’ ‘All your kids dead? Well that’s nothing—’

  WILL: Yeah, all right, Bottom. I get the gag.

  BOTTOM: Yeah. And you know I’m right too.

  WILL: I do not k
now you’re right and getting a bad review is much worse than getting the plague because at least with the plague the person that gave it to you dies.

  Marlowe enters.

  KIT MARLOWE: Good morrow, Will. Mistress Kate. I let myself in. Don’t really do manners. Just kinda go where I please.

  WILL: Of course, Kit, always welcome. I suppose you’ve seen Greene’s piece in the Groat?

  KIT MARLOWE: Hohoho, absolutely! Oh, you got a serious bitch-slapping! Still, forget about it, eh?

  WILL: I can’t forget about it, Kit! It, it’s eating away at me.

  KIT MARLOWE: (Drawing his sword) Well, in that case, kill him. Ain’t no thing. Challenge him to a duel when you see him at the prancings.

  WILL: I can’t fight him, Kit, I’m no dashing blade! Where I went to school we did our duelling with conkers and the loser had to give everyone a bite of his carrot. Besides which, I can’t go to the prancings now.

  KIT MARLOWE: Why not?

  WILL: Well, because I’ll look a fool. Everyone will have read the Groat. I couldn’t stand the shame.fn10

  KIT MARLOWE: Oh, Will, please, grow a pair of bolingbrokes! The way to put Greene in his place is to show London you don’t care what he thinks.

  WILL: But I do care. And all will know it. ’Tis writ upon my face.

  BOTTOM: He’s transparent.

  KIT MARLOWE: Come on, Will! The noble peacock doesn’t hang his head. He displays his bumshank with magnificent feathery plumes. Show this churl your feathery bumshank!

  WILL: But how?

  KIT MARLOWE: Strut, man! Rock some fine thread, put on a show!

  KATE: Confidence is attractive.

  KIT MARLOWE: Believe me, the only way this review can hurt you is if you let it. Go a-prancing in silken tights of figure-hugging Italian cut and Lord Southampton will see you are a dainty man of taste and breeding and Greene will look a fool that he ever called you upstart!

  WILL: Do you know, I think that could really work! If I turn up in form-fitting tights, everyone will see I’ve got balls! My sweet wife Anne is a pretty seamstress and for a few pence worth of silk will she stitch me hose fit for the thighs of a prince!

  KIT MARLOWE: Sounds like a plan!

  WILL: Then ho for Stratford. As I always say, the apparel oft proclaims the man.

  KATE: I still think that should be clothes maketh the man.

  WILL: Well, I imagine that’s how it’ll end up getting misquoted.fn11

  WILL’S STRATFORD HOME – DAY

  The family be present. Will doth enter.

  WILL: Father is returned. Let joy be unbounded.

  The young twins Judith and Hamnet approach Will.

  HAMNET: Where’s our presents?

  WILL: Er, ‘Hello, Dad. Nice to see you’?

  JUDITH: Did you bring us anything?

  WILL: Blimey! Here’s your bloody sugar sticks. How did it ever get to be the rule that as soon as a father takes one step outside his front door he’s obliged to bring his children presents on his return?fn12 Methinks that in future, less indulgent ages, kids will not be suffered to demand sweets on an almost monthly basis.

  ANNE: Well, this is a nice surprise, Will! We weren’t expecting you.

  The children do crowd their father.

  JUDITH: Dad, we’ve been practising for the May Day stupid dance.fn13

  HAMNET: Mum’s making us costumes! Will you watch us?

  ANNE: Run along and play, kids. Give your father a minute. (The children leave) Good journey, Will?

  WILL: Absolutely. Good seat. Clean coach. On time.

  ANNE: Well, that makes a nice change!

  WILL: Except, hang on, no, that was in my dreams. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of travelling in the real world. So, no, appalling journey.

  ANNE: Will you stay long?

  WILL: Sadly not, my love. I’m just so busy in London churning out plays, I can only stay a night. I really am becoming quite a success. In fact, I’m invited to saucy prancings at Lord Southampton’s.

  ANNE: Zounds, that is posh!

  WILL: Posh indeed, good wife, and a good show must I make. Which is why I’ve come home. I need your help. Take this shilling and with it stitch me tights in the Italian style.

  ANNE: Italian style, Will? People’ll see the contours of your bolingbrokes.

  SUSANNA: Oh, Mum!

  WILL: That’s exactly what I want them to see, Anne. My big bad country boy bolingbrokes!

  SUSANNA: I think I am actually going to be sick!

  ROBERT GREENE’S OFFICE – DAY

  Robert Greene doth fester with jealous rage.

  ROBERT GREENE: Again, it seems this upstart crow still flies. Word has reached me that he is seen about the town in fine new tights. ’Tis clear, the rustic fool intends to try to brazen out the shame of my savage review by showing the world the contours of his bolingbrokes. Well, if he be so vain as to think he can come a-prancing amongst educated men, then perchance I can turn that vanity against him.

  WILL’S LONDON LODGINGS – DAY

  Will doth disport himself most proudly in his new tights.

  KATE: Nice bloody tights, Mr Shakespeare!

  WILL: Nice indeed, Kate. Strutted have I from Fleet Street to Fenchurch and many a cheeky whistle have I got. I’ll wear these to the prancings, brazen out Greene’s review and then my big new Jew play will make my reputation as London’s best bard.

  KATE: Actually, I wanted to mention the big new Jew play, Mr Shakespeare. I read it – I hope that’s all right?

  WILL: No problem, Kate. Enjoy it? The bit where the wicked Jew poisons an entire convent full of nuns? The end where the Jew gets boiled in a big pot by the righteous Christians?fn14

  KATE: Yes. I was wondering about those bits particularly.

  WILL: Well, they are good. Nothing like whipping up violent prejudice against small defenceless ethnic groups to get bums on seats.

  KATE: Actually, it’s that aspect I was wondering about. I just thought, well … that you were a bit better than that.

  WILL: Oh, here we go. Might-a seen that coming. Lighten up, Kate. Has theatre got so sensitive and correct that a writer can’t even start a pogrom without causing offence? Jew-baiting is funny. It’s a joke. Get a sense of humour.

  KATE: But do you actually feel that, or is it that deep down you know it’s mean and cruel and divisive, but you can’t resist easy thrills and cheap laughs?

  WILL: Look, it’s layered. I’m being ironic and post-Renaissance.

  KATE: Oh, it’s irony, is it?

  WILL: Yes, by massaging prejudice I’m actually satirizing it.

  KATE: But really though, are you? Honestly?

  WILL: It … it’s a joke!fn15

  There is a knock without. Kate doth spy from the window.

  KATE: Goodness, ’tis Robert Greene. Shall I get Bottom to heave a bucket of wee over him?

  WILL: Yes!

  KATE: Yes!

  WILL: No.

  KATE: No.

  WILL: He must have come about some purpose and I would know it.

  KATE: But since he hates you, surely he’ll dissemble, concealing his true thoughts and seeking to gull you into further shame.

  WILL: You’re right, Kate. So what I’ll do is I’ll hide me behind this chair and bend my little ear to hear the secrets of his heart. For doubtless will he speak his thoughts out loud, as is the custom amongst the dainties.fn16

  KATE: Brilliant idea! You hide, I’ll go and let him in.

  Kate goes to answer the door. The Bard doth hide behind a chair. Greene doth walk in and seems to find the room empty.

  ROBERT GREENE: Good, Master Shakespeare. But soft, the room is bare. That foolish girl mistaken must have been.

  Greene spies how the Bard’s leg protrudeth from behind the chair. Greene dissembleth, speaking as if to himself.

  ROBERT GREENE: ’Tis shame indeed for I am come all contrite to make amends for my foolish slander in the Groat and offer a token of my future love.

  From
his hiding place Will doth muse upon his situation.

  WILL: God’s conkers, here’s a minty fix! He’s come to make amends and I am hid. I will reveal myself, but dissemble of the cause.

  Will pretends to snore from behind the chair.

  ROBERT GREENE: But soft … what’s this? Why good Master Shakespeare be here after all. Sirrah, are you well?

  WILL: Uh, what? What? Oh, yes. (Emerges) Er, quite well, sir. Weary was I and so did lay me down to rest behind this … chair. Well now, Greene, it seems right strange that one who dubbed me ‘crow’ comes now a-calling?

  ROBERT GREENE: I am come to beg your pardon for the wrong I have done thee.

  WILL: Wow! Really? That’s, that’s extremely sweet of you. Sweet like the honey’d goat balls that toothless crones do suck on Lammas Eve.fn17

  ROBERT GREENE: Brilliant image from a brilliant poet.

  WILL: Thanks! Well, I will grant thee my pardon gladly, cuz.

  ROBERT GREENE: And for the new love I bear thee, will I speak further. ’Tis whispered abroad that you would attend the saucy prancings all clad in silken hose.

  WILL: Aye, it is true. Spy you these naughty boys?

  Will doth strut about in his new tights.

  ROBERT GREENE: I beg thee, cuz, to think again. The fashion changeth daily. Silken hose is banished in Florence just now. Instead, purple puffling pants, yellow tights and really silly cross garters are all the rage. Any who come a-prancing dressed not so will make a poor show indeed.

  WILL: Really?

  ROBERT GREENE: Really.

  WILL: Goodness. My heartfelt thanks for telling me this, for I would fain make a good impression.

  ROBERT GREENE: Then I will see you at the prancings. Good day!

  Greene doth take his leave. Bottom and Kate do enter.

  KATE: Well? What did he want?

  WILL: He said he was sorry and wanted to make amends.

  KATE: Isn’t that lovely?

  BOTTOM: He’s lying. It’s bloody obvious.

  WILL: It does seem a coddling good turnaround from him that called me ‘upstart crow’. ’Tis certain this Greene who was all green like the green-eyed sea monster does not turn joyful pink like the one-eyed trouser monster in so swift a time.fn18