epistle to a friend in answer

to some lines Exhorting the Author

to be Cheerful, and to Banish Care

 

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Cast

Lord Byron

Joe Murray 

a  Lady (in non-material form)

Boatswain - a dog

Scrope Berdmore Davies

John Cam Hobhouse

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1811, it's a long lonely night at Newstead – Byron is poking the fire

 

B: “Oh! Banish care – such ever be the motto of thy revelry!"

 

Boatswain barks

 

B: There there,  my bestest rogue – we are but insects compared to thee (tickles his ears) - “Oh banish care" – what in God's teeth does it mean? To assume a demeanour of merriment, get blindly drunk? - I long to get drunk with Walter Scott and perhaps Hazlitt – he’ll come round after a gallon of Rhenish

 

Murray is shuddering while pouring the port

 

B: Zounds! what ails thee my good fellow?

M: If it pleases your Lordship – the mention of insects sets my stomach a-churning

B: Oh quite! The ancestral pet cricket scandals of the 1770 – 80’s! – console yourself, my fine fellow -  pour yourself a large one

 

M obliges

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B(deeply sighs): Murray – do you perchance ever yearn for times past?

M: Mother of God no, my Lord

B: Why so?

M: The port was always empty

B: Such is my inheritance of woes - heigh ho

M: Surely my Lord – if I could sue for pardon – there be still wassail nights ahead – where your Lordship could renew those riotous delights, wherewith the Children of Despair lull the lone heart

B: I thank you for your encouragement, my old, somewhat eloquent retainer – but I feel no inclination to banish care, it looks so well on me – does it not?

M: A knitted brow becomes you my Lord

B: Quite – (gets up and looks out at his frozen lake) – Not in morn’s reflecting hour, when present, past, and future lower, when all I loved is changed or gone, mock with such taunts the woes of one, whose every thought – but de damned to it!  - let them pass­

M: Will that be all, my Lord?

B: Thank you Murray – you may now take a bath in the freezing air

 

Murray bows and recedes

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SCENE 2

 

Byron, still perplexed, is at his writing desk when Hobhouse is announced

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B: Devilish early hour this Hobby

H: I could barely sleep for the impudent counsel I proffered last night – sink me! - I almost expected to be shot in my bed or mauled by the wolf

B: It also cost me a decent nights sleep you dog!– what the devil did you mean? “motto of thy revelry” – you produced sensations of  - er - guilt? - in me – as though I should focus on my estates and get some exercise

H: It was oafish of me – I only wished to cheer you from the frozen scene at dinner last night – you said not a word – everybody was talking about it over port and cigars – it has the makings of a minor local scandal

B (ferocious): I’ve seen my bride another’s bride! - have seen her seated by his side! – worse yet - have seen the infant, which she bore, wear the sweet smile the mother wore when she and I in youth had smiled (pokes fire)  - as fond and faultless as her child

H (guilty): Well, plant my face! I knew not! – never having had such feelings myself of l..

B(thunders): By all the powers that men revere, by all unto thy bosom dear, thy joys below, thy hopes above! Hobby! - speak - speak of anything but love!

H: I shall never attempt a parliamentary rouser again - Byron,  your misery is making me deuced uncomfortable

B: Indeed  - there is little in my tale that which better bosoms would bewail. But mine has suffer’d more than well ‘twould suit philosophy to tell 

H: Cracking fire – sea-coal?

B: Damned expensive – nearly choked me t’other night

H: Let us return to London my friend – you shall be distracted from your inextinguishable love for a now-married distant cousin – a round of plays, milliners and hazard will set everything right - and Scrope is anxious to see you

B (delighted): Scrope! That singular jester! How it would do my heart good to get facetious with him at the Cocoa Tree – splendid plan Hobhouse! To pack! (calls out) Murray!

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B and H leave for London - Murray, still naked, returns to his bathing ritual

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SCENE 3

 

The Cocoa Tree – a gentlemen’s club in St. James

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SBD: Byron! Why you look like you’ve had a stroke! (hands him a platter of cold meats and cheeses)

 

B & H sit with SBD – B refuses all sustenance except Champagne and lettuce – B still in a funk

 

SBD(distressed): Had a bad time in the country my friend? Rents not being paid? Pipes leaking? Cellar creaking?

H: er – trouble with a callow passion I’m afraid Scrope

B(to himself): I have seen her eyes, in cold disdain ask if I felt no secret pain! – good god!! - And I have acted well my part – and made my cheek belie my heart

SBD: The wisest play my friend – show them you care not

B: In sooth, I return’d the freezing glance she gave - yet felt the while that woman’s slave

 

SBD and H look at each other affrightedly

 

SBD: Let’s go to the ballet eh Byron? – damned pretty girls what?

H: Excellent idea – call a Hackney – I’ll just finish this fine ham hock

B: Time has not made me love the less – (rises from Regency era club chair) - but let this pass - I’ll whine no more, Nor seek again an eastern shore; The world befits a busy brain,– I’ll hie me to its haunts again!

SBD: Proper order my Lord! We’ll have you back gambling, drinking and whoring in jig time – and no more will your childish passion haunt you!

H (stuffing his pockets with various cheeses): Cab’s here!

B: Out into the Great World once again – one rank’d in some recording page with the worst anarchs of the age – (mutters to himself) - nor with the effect shall I forget the cause - (to SBD and H) Here’s to deepening crimes to suit the sablest of the times!

SBD & H: Huzzah!

 

The three friends launch towards Drury Lane and the delights of the Town

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END