Shakespeare's Changeling

“Now I remember!” Shaxper said. “The plays are up in the attic. I put them in the old trunk, the one Countess Elizabeth gave me on her deathbed.”

Jonson leapt to his feet.

“How do we get there?”

“Go to the kitchen and take the back stairs. The trunk is at the top, to the left. I’d go, but I feel a bit dizzy. I need to lie down.”

“You go,” Drayton said. “I’ll stay with the scribe.”

Jonson raced into the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Anne Shaxper ripping pages out of a bound manuscript and tossing them into the fire.

“What’s that you’re burning?”

“Just some old papers,” she sneered. “Why should you care?”

 “What kind of papers?”

Before she could respond, Jonson grabbed them from her hands and instantly recognized the handwriting. He dove into the flames, burning himself as he tried to rescue the discarded pages. His screams brought Drayton running.

“Ben, what are you doing?”

“This is the sequel to Love’s Labour’s Lost,” Jonson said, his voice cracking. “Do you realize what you’ve done, you decrepit old harpy? You’ve burned an original Shakespeare play, written in Lord Oxford’s own hand!”

“I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t think it was important.”

“Not important? What’s wrong with you? Are you stupid?”

“I burn papers like this all the time.”

“She didn’t mean any harm, Ben. Stop badgering her,” Drayton said.

“Not on your life! She’s gone too far this time.”

“She couldn’t help it, it’s not her fault. She doesn’t know how to read.”

“What?”

“She can’t read. No one in Shaxper’s family can read. She didn’t know what she was burning.”

Jonson was furious. He ran into the front room and shook the scribe back into consciousness.

“Why, you merchant of falsehood! You posed as England’s greatest playwright and kept your family uneducated and illiterate?”

“I was in London . . . they were in Stratford . . . I had to earn a living . . . there wasn’t time to teach them anything.”

“Your slovenly wife has just torched an original Shakespeare play because she can’t read. It’s as if she murdered Lord Oxford all over again!”

Dr. Hall opened the front door and stepped into complete pandemonium.

 “What’s going on here, Jonson? I told you and Drayton to go away and stay away.”

“And I told you I wasn’t leaving without the plays.”

“Calm down, Doctor,” Drayton said, trying to pacify him. “We just found out a moment ago that the plays Jonson has been seeking are up in the attic. I’ll help him get the trunk and we’ll be on our way.”

“Not so fast,” Hall said. “I knew it was a mistake to allow you access to my father-in-law, Jonson. Chaos has ruled ever since I let you into this house. Can’t you see my father-in-law is a very sick man? Look at him.”

“He’s fine. He’s resting.”

Dr. Hall lifted Shaxper’s limp hand.

“What on earth have you done to this poor man?”

“We haven’t done anything to him. We had a few drinks to celebrate his birthday.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Drayton seconded, “to celebrate his birthday.”

“You fed him my best sack?”

“I’ll gladly pay you for what we drank, if that’s what’s bothering you,” Jonson said.

“We didn’t force it on him. He drank it of his own free will,” Drayton added.

“He’s not supposed to drink. I swear, I think you both came to Stratford to kill him!”

“That’s not true,” Drayton protested.

“Give them the trunk, John, and let’s be rid of them,” Mrs. Shaxper said.

“Oh, all right, go get it,” Hall cried out. “Take it out of here, and then leave this house and never come back!”

Jonson and Drayton hurried to the attic before Dr. Hall had a chance to change his mind.

As the doctor solicitously examined him, Shaxper fell from his stupor into a dream.