The inn was a large, rectangular building, provided with galleries which overlooked the spacious courtyard. It was in this that the Lord Chamberlain’s servants had arranged to give the first of their performances that afternoon. The room to which the actor now led Anne and Gervase opened on to one of these galleries, at the extreme end of the yard.
Here were all sorts of stage properties. Not only was there a number of costumes, but also there were wigs, powder and cosmetics and other trappings of the theater. Much searching among this apparel was necessary before clothes could be found which Shakespeare deemed suitable for Gervase and Anne. Many of these costumes were very rich; and at last an elegant suit of boy’s clothes was found for Anne. She went into a room adjoining to put it on. And, in the meantime, Gervase was provided with a much more elaborate disguise.
First, he was put into a suit of plain black velvet, modest in appearance, but excellent in quality, very similar to the player’s own. Then his eyes were carefully darkened and lines painted under them to add to his years. A pair of fine moustachios was fixed to his upper lip and a short beard to his chin. Finally, he was accommodated with a hat with a plume, a ruff for the neck, and at his own request, a very serviceable sword, which he buckled to his waist with a feeling of keen satisfaction.
The transformation Gervase had undergone was so complete, that when Anne returned wearing her own excellent suit, which fitted her admirably except that it was a little loose in the shoulders, she did not know him.
“Allow me to present Signor Bandinello,” said the player. “A famous music master from Italy.”
Anne, in the surprise of the moment, so far forgot her own disguise as to curtsy. Whereupon, greatly to her discomfiture, Gervase and the player fairly shouted with laughter.
Anne’s clothes really became her very well indeed. They could hardly have fitted her slender form better had they been made for her. She, too, was given a ruff for her neck, a hat with a plume and a dagger to wear at her waist. Thus accomplished, she made a particularly handsome and modish boy.
Gervase’s disguise, which had added at least thirty years to his age, was so complete, that the player had no fear that he would be recognized. Accordingly, he led him boldly into the inn and duly presented him to Burbage, Kemp and one or two other members of the company as a celebrated musician who had consented to take charge of the music at Richmond on Tuesday week. Anne was introduced as his son. And it was suggested that Arrigo, a name bestowed upon her by the playwright on the spur of the moment, should understudy Parflete for the character of Rosalind. Indeed, the author of the new comedy seemed to be clearly of opinion that the young Signor Arrigo had been designed expressly by nature to play that delicate and exacting rôle.
Burbage guessed at once who Signor Bandinello and Arrigo his son really were. But he was far too loyal, even if he had not been too astute, to share his knowledge with the other members of the company. These, to be sure, were a little surprised at such an unexpected addition to their number. Yet not for a moment did they suspect the truth.
Thus, for the time being, a very remarkable change was wrought in the fortunes of Gervase and Anne. No longer need they seek a roof or a meal. No longer need they go footsore and hungry. Providence once more had taken them into its care. It was true that, in some ways, they had added threefold to their dangers. They had given their lives into the keeping of a man of whom they knew little or nothing. But having burnt their boats, they had the courage wholeheartedly to embrace this new way of life.