Midnight at Mallyncourt Read Online Free PDF

right? Lord, these talky historical epics! They’ll be the death of me yet—”
    I found it difficult to concentrate on the performance. My head still ached, and my mind was on other things. Fortunately, for the first three acts I had little to do but stand around and look beautiful and innocent as Gerry and Donald Hampton, as Cesare and Pope Alexander, plotted intrigues and planned murders, each striving to outdo the other in histrionics. I had one major scene in the third act when, six months pregnant and wearing a flowing black gown that failed to conceal it, I stood before the assembly of purple robed cardinals and claimed to be virgo intacta so that the marriage to my first husband could be annulled. It was the last act I dreaded. In the climactic scene, Cesare, driven out of his senses with incestuous lust, finally declares himself to Lucrezia who, in this play at least, is more sinned against than sinning and attempts to ward off his advances. It was always difficult to play, even more so now that Gerry was striving for such total realism.
    The third act ended. The curtain fell. I went to my dressing room and made my costume change, replacing the black gown for one of white velvet embroidered with gold. I felt lifeless, moving as though in a trance. It was going to be worse than ever. I could tell that. Gerry had had that look of anticipation in his eyes all during the first three acts, and in our scenes together he had been more fervent than usual, barely repressing that surging desire, touching me, speaking in a husky voice. The audience was thrilled, stunned into shocked silence, anticipating the final confrontation as eagerly as Gerald Prince himself.
    Why? I asked myself as I made my way backstage. Why does it have to be this way? I had worked so hard, and now everything I had worked for was about to be destroyed because of one man who refused to take no for an answer. I stood in the wings, holding onto a rope as I watched the stage hands changing the sets. I could hear the audience beyond the curtain chattering and laughing gaily. A cold rage welled up inside. It wasn’t fair. Damn Gerald Prince! Laverne was right. All men were bastards, and women were their victims.
    â€œGreat house tonight,” Gerry said, strolling up to join me. “They’re loving every minute of it.”
    I didn’t answer. The backdrop was up. The furniture was in place. The stage hands were applying the finishing touches.
    â€œI’d like you to try to put a little more into the last scene tonight, Jenny,” he remarked casually. “You’ve been holding back—I’ve noticed that the last few times we’ve played it. This kind of thing doesn’t work unless you give it all you’ve got. It’s not drawing room comedy, you know.”
    â€œI know,” I said stiffly.
    â€œTry to loosen up a bit, will you? You’ve been like a zombie all evening. The leading lady has a certain responsibility to her audience, and you’ve definitely been holding back. I’d hate to have to replace you.”
    â€œIs that a threat, Gerry?”
    â€œA threat?” He was the picture of surprised innocence. “Of course not, luv, of course not, but you must understand that, as head of the company, I have certain responsibilities, too, and can afford to keep only the best people on the payroll. Keep that in mind, Jenny luv.”
    The curtain rose. Donald Hampton was pacing about in Papal robes, a fierce expression on his face as he awaited the arrival of his son. Gerald Prince swaggered onstage, looking splendid in black silk tights and black velvet doublet embroidered with silver and pearls, the wide sleeves slashed with red satin panels. He and Donald played their scene, and then Laverne tottered onstage as Vannozza, tipsily pleading with her son to abstain from his unnatural desires. Her wig was still askew. She forgot several of her lines. Gerry was seething. From where I