Cast

Lord Byron

Pietro Gamba

Teresa Guiccioli

Fletcher

Mrs. Catherine Potter Stith

​George Bancroft

Sally Jinn

Commodore Jones

Master in Command Wolcott Chauncey

First Mate Sipowitz

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​D

 

​Scene 1

 

Montenero, 1822 - Byron and Teresa are on the balcony of the Villa Dupouy  ​

 

B: Here, mio tesoro - hold the telescope just so (adjusts lens) - can you see the American squadron anchored in the bay?

T: Ah, sì!  how does the Buon Governo allow all those grandi cannoni to be pointed at Pisa? (grasps B's arm) - do they intend us all to slay?!

B(laughs): Why, 'tis the flagship of the American navy - the USS Consitution - commissioned by the Cincinnatus of the West himself, Mr. Washington! A symbol of freedom from the imperial British yoke - ah! liberation! - t'other is the ‘Ontario' - are they not a fine sight, not at all baroque - the barques of a virile nation!

T: Pensare, Byron! - if you rechristened your perfectly useless little schooner the ‘Mr. Washington', maybe the Capo della Polizia would let you sail her

B: I shan't rely on the kindness and civility of that Tuscan cur! (leads T inside) - now my love, great honour has been done me - I have an invitation from the American Commodore to venture on board (smokes and deliberates) - this request arises, perhaps, not so much from their enthusiasm for my ‘poeshie’ as their belief in my dislike of the English (hesitates) - amore mio, as 'tis back luck to have females on board a naval vessel, I must venture solus - besides, those rope ladders are fiendish to wrestle!

T: No females? Who scrubs the deck, who irons the mainsail?

B: On American ships? (shuffles) I couldn't say - but trust to Byron, my love - e'en one of the Byronic blood would hardly set to sea with a common deck scrubber!

T: Hah! - naturalmente, I trust to your word, mio Byron (eyes telescope) - here, a red rose (bites off thorns) for your frock coat - a parting gift from an unhappy landlubber (sulks)

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Pietro enters

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P(in a state): Milord - a man at the door says he is a delegation from the Americans (panics) - this seems exceptionally confrontational, even for you! Will we be thrown out of Tuscany? (waves sword) - sant'antonio! - the Gambas - on the road again!!

B: Get off the parquetry stairs, Pietro - you're hacking the woodgrain

P: But why have the carabinieri left Ravenna? 

B: What are you on about?

P: The Americanii - you are their Capo - do you not remember?

B: You poltroon Pietro! - he is an American, and I am to visit their vessels in the bay (kisses T's hand) - addio, my love, I anticipate enough amusing manglings of the English language on board to shame its splendour 

T(is cagey): Do enjoy that freedom of converse the members of a free nation so enjoy (glares) - I shall return to the balcony with the telescope, to spy on our neighbors and wave you ‘ahoy'

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​D

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​Scene 2

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The tender nears the Consitution - shouts and cheers from the ordinary seamen - B clambers up the rope ladder with the skill of a harlequin

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CJ: Welcome aboard ‘Old Ironsides', my Lord (bows as best he can)

B: I am sensible to the honour you do me, Commodore (bows, properly)

CJ: It is as well, my Lord, for we are all big fans (B is intrigued by the nomenclature) - how we enjoyed the young Spaniard's spaniel-eating contest - quite, quite true to life, although we would have to do with roasted ratters and marshmallows - not much of a mouthful to be had with those little fellows (hearty, unsqueamish laughs all round) - well, you are not only the greatest poet of England - but grandson of  Foulweather Jack - oh! the stories, my Lord, blood-curdling stories we have of that gallant sailor! Taylor here came up against him in the Battle of Grenada

B(bows): Just so? That damned d'Estaing injured him where no tribe of Amazonian females ever could

T: I own, 'twas hard won - however, he did leave an abiding impression upon the ladies on shore, who gawped through telescopes despite the midday Grenadian sun! (hesitates) - if you'll permit, my Lord - how they speak e'en yet of that devilishly handsome, dashing Vice-Admiral Byron

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B blushes, and bows

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​CJ: If I may introduce Mr. George Bancroft - a friend to many of the Literary Great this side of the pond

GB: With the exception - until now - of the greatest!

 

B's shyness at such extravagant praise is becoming uncomfortable

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GB: Ah - yes - just finished supping with Goethe - big fan - fancies you to be homicidal

B: Perhaps I shall fire a cannon at Pisa, massacre all the inhabitants and burn every bible - would the great man fancy that, Mr. Bancroft?
GB: You bet he would!

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All guffaw in a hearty manner

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CJ: Now, here is a young man worthy of remark - a little boy - born on this very ship by a midshipman's wife (yells) - Sally Jinn, over here!

B: You keep women on board? (to self: oy! does Teresa actually know how to use that telescope?)
CJ: Why yes - they are lucky - unless they're redheads, of course - in that case, we'd may as like scuttle the ship ourselves

SJ: Sir - we christened him “Constitution Jones”

B: That is perfectly sound (tickles baby's chin) - a fine bawling lad he is Mrs. Jinn, and quite able for such insistent sea-swells

CJ: Good girl Sally - high-tail it to the galley - now - chop chop!

GB: I guess you shall take luncheon with us, my Lord?

B(suppress delight at yet another knacky Americanism): I thank you - but yon Ontario has also extended an invitation this day - and I must oblige (scowls) as the authorities are hot on my tail re. a recent skirmish involving guns, swords, rearing livestock and whatnot - verily, my sojourn is under threat, unless the Duke of Tuscany can get me off  the hook

CJ: How marvelous! - 'tis like a report from the feral parts of our country - small wonder that demand from our penitentiaries for your Collected Works far exceeds that of the Good Book

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The beautiful Mrs. Catherine Potter Stith steps forward - the reserved Englishman is impressed by the unaffected boldness of the American

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CPS: I hope you won't think me too forward - my Lord? I am unsure how to address a nobleman - for we have none - excepting your more pompous clergymen - in our own country

B: Wh..

CPS: I'm Mrs. Potter Stith - wife of Consul to Tunis 

B: I am most plea...

CPS: You are a favorite of all the folks back home, donchaknow - I feel sure you will not begrudge me this (removes B's red rose buttonhole) when I return to Philadelphia, my friends will ask for some token that I have spoken with Lord Byron - England's finest beau!

B: Ah -er - most certainly - I would rather wish for a nod from a beautiful American, than a snuff-box from an emperor (bows)

GB(whispers to CPS): There is a kind of Lalla Rookh incident for you!

CPS (whispers to GB): Why, he's so unpretending and natural - like a sensitive, gracefully bashful boy - a young Jove, hiding his thunderbolts

B: Commodore, my Lady - all on aboard - I thank you for your graceful reception - Mr. Bancroft, please visit tomorrow and I shall gladly sign you a volume - Mrs. Potter Sith - your rose must pass away and lose its bloom (CPS is all ears) - I shall send an autographed volume which, one hopes, will be of lasting value to you, and any institution to which your heirs bequeath it and to which one may have to sell an internal organ to get a fleeting look at in years hence - addio, my friends!

All: So long, Byron!

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The tender arrives to transport B to the ‘Ontario' - upon departure, the Constitution becomes the epicenter of frenzied women begging for rose leaves - CPS beats them off with an oar

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​D

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Scene 3

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USS Ontario delivers a somewhat more formal welcome - a 21-gun salute is fired, the yards are manned and three cheers are given in glorious union 

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WC: Men! 

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Pipes are played and a silk ladder, festooned with laurel leaves is lowered, an able seaman hoists B from the tender to the deck - Master in Command Wolcott Chauncey greets the poet

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WC: My Lord (bows to the ground) - we are honoured beyond all comprehension to have you on board

B: You are? well er...

WC: You are impressed by our rigging - I can tell - for the sea is in your blood - come - we have prepared a banquet for you, replete with American home cooking

B: I fear in this heat and the quite marked sea-swell - I shall set my capricious digestion in a flummox

WC: Not at all! why - our feast of turkey, grits and cheese-in-a-bottle would settle any land-lubbers stomach

S: Commander Chauncey, we have a fresh consignment of Bourbon - ‘Mad Jack o'the Hills '- by name

WC: Excellent, Sipowitz! - surely, a man used to Irish whiskey (shudders) could not resist tasting our native brew - a hangover-free version of same

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B's interest is piqued - is led to a lavishly laid table and is placed at the head of the table on velvet cushions

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​S: Men - sit! 

WC: Dig in!!

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B awaits some form of brutalist American cutlery - settles on a knife and fork

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WC: How find you our turkey-meat, my Lord?

B: 'Tis surprisingly light and toothsome

WC: Our spare cuisine keeps us an alert nation - now, here is an American edition of your poems - perhaps you shall find the notes instructive - ‘Whilome' was at first perceived to be a curse or blasphemy (shakes head) and was cleaved

B: That may be the kindest review of same I've yet received 

WC (whispers): I can offer you a passage to America - if you are in need of it - for I hear there is some current controversy about your person

B: Do you refer to the affray with Sergeant-Major Masi?

CW: No, I was thinking more of  Bowles' Stricture on the Life and Writings of Pope and your scalping of that “maudlin prince of mournful sonneteers” - Land sakes! I haven't seen such precision this side of  Tallahassee

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B grinds teeth

 

S: If I may, Lord Byron, I knew your admirable father in Philadelphia - a redcoat though he was

CW: Aye - Jack Byron - 'twas said, and holds true - if all the English honoured their uniforms as he did - the war would have been over much sooner

B(is all amazement): How so?

S: Did he not force himself into taverns and bawdy-houses to avoid shooting at any of us Americans, to be sure? (nods all around) Did not a generation follow in his wake, all named Jack Byron by their various mothers, in honour of that devilishly handsome Englishman's allure!

B(raises a glass, flush with questionable family pride): I have been ever a Wellwisher to your Country and Countrymen - in common with all unprejudiced minds - and admire immensely your freedom, won by firmness without excess - to America!
 

Cheers all round as the Commodore and crew show off their superior knotting skills 

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D

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Scene 4

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Next morning at the Villa Dupouy​

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B: Buongiorno, amore mio

T: Buongiorno - Byron - I trust you enjoyed the energia maschile aboard the American ship yesterday?

B(sneakily looks for telescope): Que? er, yes - 'twas most illuminating - Fletcher!! Do I possess any dark blue cutaway with perchance brass buttons and frogging and whatnot - I feel a debt of honour has accrued to paternal memory

F: Nowt, my lord - your tailor asserts that in blue you carry the aspect of a policeman in penury

B(recalls CW's tuneful exclamations): Well, to botheration, tarnation and damnation to it! 

T: What? (aside: Pietro? - is this Inglese?) -  è incomprensibile, dio!

F: Mr. Bancroft, an American citizen, ventures to request the honour of waiting on Lord Byron, your lordship

B: Fletcher - I'm not paying you by the word - show Mr. Bancroft in

GB: Good day, my lord

B: Ah! Mr. Bancroft, how d’ye do - I have a gift for both yourself and Mrs. Stith (rummages, finds books)

GB: Golly! A copy of Don Juan - with your autograph on its fly-leaf! I shall treasure it!

B: And for Mrs. Stith - ‘Outlines to Faust’ by Goethe - 'tis a side-splitter

​​​​GB(winces): To trouble you further, your Lordship - another American - a Mr. West has requested to paint your portrait - despite your reputation as a lousy sitter

B: Hmmm - my cheeks are particularly rotund at this juncture - but as he is an American - very well!

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GB is suddenly aware of a luminous vision quietly reclining on the sopha

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GB: Oh - do pardon me! (is mesmerised by Teresa's rose-gold locks and superb teeth) - my, what an impressive telescope, Madam

T: Like our tower, it is the best of Pisan engineering, Mr. Bancroft (twirls instrument with intent) and it can see what the trusting eye of a woman can not (bites unripe apple) why, did I not spy some washerwomen fighting over his Lordship's rose on board your boat? ah, me! 'twas my folly to believe such beings could not float (laughs, coldly)

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B gulps, pales and glares at GB

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GB: er - as a young nation, Madam - we have rapidly thrown off the superstitions of the old world...

B: ​..aye, Teresa - my trans-Atlantic visitors make me feel as if I were talking with posterity from the other side of the Styx! (T considers this destination a probability) - in a century or two, the new English and Spanish Atlantides will shroud the old in perpetual eclipse

​GB: We pray it may be so (nervously) - I must away my Lord - Madam - 'twould appear (avoids T's boiling gaze) to swim with the fishes, heh

B: Very well - do, please convey to - er - old Mrs. Stith all my very best wishes (telescope clunks to the floor)

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T plucks a fresh red rose for B

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B: I feel quite respawned by the energy of the Americans - ah! the nobility of my Sire's character! not that I ever doubted it! - just wait 'til I tell Augusta! (slashes the air with a non-existent sword) - the Byronic Blood, mio tesoro, 'twil out, 'twil out!!

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B twiddles with rose - is stung by its thorns and bleeds profusely

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B: Feck and damn! Figlio di puttana!! ouch!! (shakes paw) - Land sakes, Teresa! - you left the thorns on?! (shows tiny scratch) you have purposely blooded me? - for what? Mrs. Stith - an - er - antiquated matron? (T raises eyebrow in an unmistakenly hostile manoeuvre) Perchance, I shall take up the Commodore's offer of a voyage to the New World, and have a comely cabin-woman scrub my boots with her apron! (is now in a rage that the bleeding has ceased) - I shan't forget this wound, mio tesoro - have no doubt!

T: If you hadn't shown me the telescope - my devilishly handsome Englishman - I would never have known that you gave my rose to that sailorwoman - today - you have done me the honour of telling the truth (smiles gently, with satisfaction) - for I can see that the Byronic blood - 'tis certamente, most decisively - out! 

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D

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END​​​​​