William Shakespeare is just eighteen when he marries Anne Hathaway, eight years his senior. Anne, who bears a son soon after the marriage, is plain and not particularly bright – but her love for Will is undeniable. Talented and fiercely ambitious, Will’s scintillating genius soon makes him the toast of Elizabethan London. While he basks in the flattery his great reputation affords him, Anne lives a lonely life in Stratford, far away from the glittering world of her husband. This highly evocative account of the life of the young William Shakespeare begins the trilogy which continues with The Cleopatra Boy and concludes with A House of Women.
About the Author
Eric Malpass worked in a bank after leaving school, but his firm ambition was to become a novelist and he wrote in his spare time for many years.
His first book, ‘Morning’s at Seven’, was published to wide acclaim. With an intuitive eye for the quirkiness of family life, his novels are full of wry comments and perceptive observations. This exquisite sense of detail has led to the filming of three of his books. His most engaging character is Gaylord Pentecost – a charming seven-year-old who observes the strange adult world with utter incredulity.
Eric Malpass also wrote biographical novels, carefully researched and highly evocative of the period. Amongst these is ‘Of Human Frailty’, the moving story of Thomas Cramner.
With his amusing and lovingly drawn details of life in rural England, Malpass’ books typify a certain whimsical Englishness – a fact which undoubtedly contributes to his popularity in Europe.
Married with a family, Eric Malpass lived in Long Eaton, near Nottingham, until his death in 1996.
Table of Contents
|1||When that I was and a little tiny boy||1|
|2||The play's the thing||22|
|3||It shall to the barber's||62|
|4||Alas! to wive||93|
|5||A homely swain||120|
|6||Then came each actor on his ass||145|
|7||For we which now behold these present days||161|
|8||Here shall he see no enemy||189|
|9||O! what a rogue and peasant slave||213|
|10||And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste||226|
|11||Within this wooden O||256|
|12||As man's ingratitude||266|
|13||The wind and the rain||272|
|14||Our play is done||295|