Shakespeare. "'The more I think about it, Tuck, the more I become convinced that 'tis in this direction that my true path lies! Forget Marlowe's Jew. I will show you a Jew, by God! I will show you one who has a reason to be evil! A reason that any man can readily understand!"
"But Will, you have just admitted that you know no more of Jews than I do," Smythe replied. "And I, for one, know nothing of them. Why, I do not think I could tell a Jew if I chanced upon one on this very street."
"Well, that is a minor problem," Shakespeare said.
"A minor problem? How can you write a Jew when you have never even met a Jew?"
"Marlowe clearly never met a Jew, and yet he wrote one."
"Aye, and you have just finished telling me that his Jew was nothing more than a caricature. If you are determined to outdo him, then you shall have to create a character that is more man than masque, more flesh than bells and ribbons, as you put it."
"Well, a Jew is a man at heart, like any other, surely," Shakespeare said. "Like any other man, he feels sadness, he feels anger, he feels pain…"
"But as you said yourself, Will, where is he?" Smythe replied. "What makes him who he is and what he is? After all, if you are going to outdo Marlowe's Jew of Malta, then do you not think that you should at least learn something of your subject?"
Shakespeare pursed his lips. "Indeed, you are quite right, Tuck.. I suppose I should. The question is… where will we find a Jew in a country that drove them out three hundred years ago?"
Smythe grunted. "I must admit, you have me there. But you did say that some remained behind, did you not?"
"Apparently, a small number who converted."
Smythe shrugged. "Well then, can we not find one of them?"
"I would not have the faintest idea where to look" said Shakespeare with a shrug.
"Well, we know a lot of people. Surely, somebody must know."
"Surely, someone must. We shall ask around, then."
"What about your play about King Henry?" Smythe asked.
"'Twas an ambitious effort, as I recall. Do you not think. you should complete that first, before beginning something new?"
"I have very nearly finished it. And I have already begun work upon another."
"What, this one about the Jew, you mean?"
"Nay, that is still merely an idea, an inspiration, if you will.
Still, I think it may be a worthy one. 'Twould be tempting to beat Marlowe at his own game and have everyone in London know I did it."
"Tempting, perhaps," said Smythe. "But whether it be worthy is another matter. For my part, I am not convinced that this is the best idea you have ever had."
"Great plays can spring from inferior ideas," Shakespeare said. "Look at Marlowe."
"Aye, look at him," Smythe said wryly. "Marlowe dances on the edge of the abyss. His reputation is becoming infamous, and he seems to infuriate as many patrons as he pleases. Are you quite certain that you want to emulate him?"
"Not in all things, perhaps," replied Shakespeare with a grin. "But I could do with emulating his success. And our company could certainly do with some new plays. One takes one's ideas where one finds them, eh?"
"If you say so. Either way, you humoured me in my idea to go and search out Robert Greene, much to your regret now, I am quite sure, so I suppose the very least that I can do is humour you in your desire to out-Marlowe, Marlowe. Let us only hope that you do not wind up suffering by comparison."
"I can assure you, Tuck, that when I am done, I will have penned a Jew that shall prove much more memorable than Marlowe's Jew of Malta."
"Famous last words?" said Smythe, cocking an eyebrow at him.
"We shall see, my friend," said Shakespeare.
"We shall, indeed," said Smythe. "Now all we need to do is find a Jew in a country where there are none."