'You expect too much of me.' Only because you always deliver it, dear fellow.' He's wooing you,' warned Gill cynically.

'It will not serve,' said Hoode.

I have your title,' explained Firethorn. 'It will leap off the playbills along with your name. Gloriana Triumphant

'An ill- favoured thing, to be sure,' noted Gill, wincing. 'Be quiet, sir!'

'I'm entitled to my opinion, Lawrence.'

'You're being peevish.'

'I simply wish to choose another play.'

'Yes,' agreed Hoode. 'Another play by another author.'

Lawrence Firethorn regarded them through narrowed eyes. He had anticipated opposition and he had the means to remove it at a stroke. His chuckle alerted them to the danger.

'The decision has already been taken, gentlemen.'

'By you?' challenged Gill.

'By Lord Westfield.'

There was nothing more to be said. The company owed its existence to its patron. Under the notorious Act for the Punishment of Vagabonds, the acting profession had been effectively outlawed. The only dramatic companies that were permitted were those which were authorized by one noble and two judicial dignitaries of the realm. All other players were deemed to be rogues, vagabonds and sturdy beggars, making them liable to arrest. Lord Westfield had saved Firethorn and his fellows from that indignity. The patron's word therefore carried enormous weight.

'Start work immediately, Edmund,' ordered his host.

'Very well,' sighed Hoode. 'Draw up the contract.'

'I have already done so.'

'You take too much upon yourself,' accused Gill.

'Someone has to, Barnaby.'

'We are sharers, too. We have rights.'

'So does Lord Westfield.'

Barnaby Gill summoned up his fiercest grimace. Not for the first time, he had been outwitted by Firethorn and it stoked his resentment even more. Edmund Hoode turned wearily to his new task.