Chapter 53: Fame and Desire

The people downstairs were soon brought up one by one to be inspected by John.

The first thing John did was hand each of them a piece of paper filled with the script's content. But it was clear that John had overestimated them; almost everyone shook their heads after receiving it.

Except for one brown-haired man.

This man was a classic beauty, with a long, lean face, a well-proportioned physique, and a melancholy aura. John couldn't quite put his finger on why, but the man gave off the vibe of a fallen noble.

"I've finished reading it, Your Highness," the man handed the script back to John. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Hubert. Your work is fascinating, but is there a complete script available?"

Hubert's question piqued John's interest. Firstly, he was the only one there who could read. Secondly, he showed curiosity about John's script.

That was enough.

"Of course, there is," John said, and the scribe behind him handed the complete manuscript to Hubert.

The thick manuscript was handed over cautiously by Hubert, who began to read its contents. Everyone waited silently for the man, as if he were the main character here.

When he finished, he closed the manuscript and took a deep breath.

John awaited Hubert's evaluation, his face filled with anticipation.

"This is a near-perfect script, Your Highness," Hubert said in awe. "The scale, the intricate design, this will undoubtedly be a completely different kind of court play."

Such praise made John feel quite proud. This script was, of course, excellent because its author was Shakespeare.

"Romeo and Juliet, Your Highness. If anyone sees this play, they will never forget what a great performance it is."

Besides praise, Hubert couldn't think of anything else to say.

This kind of flattery made John feel pleasantly gratified, much better than dealing with those war-focused individuals.

John said, "In that case, show me your talent. Let me see if you can capture the essence of Romeo."

After speaking, John leaned back in his chair, waiting for Hubert's performance. Some might recognize the brilliance of a work but lack the ability to perform it. John needed to see Hubert's skills.

Once again, Hubert savored the script before putting it down.

His facial expression changed rapidly, tears welling up in his eyes. His thin lips quivered slightly, as if he were engulfed by immense sorrow.

"Juliet...this is our new chamber..." Romeo's voice trembled, filling the room with his sorrowful tone. He bent down, gently caressing the air before him as if there were a gravestone there.

"Your beauty turns a tomb into a splendid hall full of light. Oh, my beloved!" Hubert's performance captivated John, making him feel as though Hubert truly was Romeo.

"Death has taken your life but not your beauty. You are my most beautiful bride, Juliet..." Tears slid down Hubert's face, and it was impossible to tell that his sadness was feigned. Moreover, John noticed his keen sense of stage presence.

Hubert not only conveyed a sense of sorrow but also made it easy for the audience to feel his sadness. This is the most crucial quality for a stage actor. If the audience cannot feel the emotions, the performance is ultimately a failure.

"Oh, people of this world, I don't care how foolish you think I am. Laugh at me, scorn me! Juliet and I will forever live in each other's hearts! There, where no one can see, no one can scorn our love!"

Hubert's acting made John understand why this man could make a living in Dublin by performing various plays.

Even in Henry II's court, few could surpass Hubert's acting skills.

John cleared his throat softly, interrupting Hubert's performance. Hubert immediately withdrew from his role and bowed to John.

"Very impressive performance, Hubert," John said. "I'm curious, where did you learn these skills?"

Hubert responded politely, "Your Highness, I learned these skills from life. If it weren't for the need to earn bread, I wouldn't have had the motivation to learn them. But, driven by necessity, I had to learn to mimic and acquire these techniques."

Indeed, one should not compare their hobbies to others' livelihoods.

"It seems you've had a difficult life, Hubert. But now I'm offering you an opportunity. If I entrust you with the task of overseeing the rehearsals for the troupe, do you think you can handle it?" John threw a heavy responsibility at Hubert, testing if he could catch it.

At this moment, Hubert's mind was in turmoil. He had never imagined he could gain the prince's trust in such a short time, nor had he expected to suddenly be given such a significant task. Indeed, Hubert had been the director for a village troupe, but now he was being asked to serve the royal family, which filled him with nervousness.

Behind the immense pressure lay unimaginable rewards for Hubert. If he aligned himself with John, he wouldn't have to worry about food and drink. Additionally, he might get the chance to mingle with high society figures he had never dared to dream of meeting—nobles of the kingdom, clergy of the church, and wealthy merchants.

Yet, Hubert also yearned for a life of freedom. If he chose this path, he would undoubtedly have to follow John, adhering to his schedules and performing at various venues to entertain the nobility. He would be compelled to travel between theaters, catering to the whims of the aristocracy.

His mind was almost overloaded, making it nearly impossible for him to think clearly about the decision.

Seeing Hubert's prolonged silence, John asked again, "Hubert, do you want to take this on or not?"

Hubert struggled to weigh his options. He thought this might be his only chance in life. If he missed it, he might remain obscure forever, possibly dying unnoticed in Dublin one day. But if he chose to serve John—or rather, to serve these magnificent scripts...

Hubert glanced at the script in the servant's hands. He had a premonition that if he became the first to bring this script to life, he would at least become a sensation of his time.

"I am willing to serve you, Your Highness," Hubert said, bowing deeply, committing himself to his fate.