Cast

Lord Byron

John Murray

Henry Gally Knight

Gifford

Hobhouse

La Fornarina

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SCENE 1

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1818, Albemarle Street - Murray is holding Council re. a recent letter of B's

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M(to H): Does his Lordship actually wish to enter the balladeering business - and compete with Moore?

H: If that's news from Venice - I would ignore it - he is probably contagious 

G: Such promise! Such waste! a common Balladeer - a pie-wrapper - a bumper-clinker! - we will never get him into the Abbey now (head in hands)

H: I cannot believe it Murray - he has degraded himself enough - writing about life as a mere jest - but balladeering is too plebeian to contemplate - though not for Mr. Moore, of course (chuckles ensue)

G: What did he send you? Is it obscene and not fit to be printed? Should we consign it to the flames? Should we read it first?

M(to H): I don't believe that to be necessary - do you?

H: No - (scans letter) - oh! this is but a tepid attempt by Byron at lampooning Gally Knight - "Sally in our Alley"!! humph! - many a time we have sung it carousing with the lower classes - if he lampooned me in the same way - I would certainly never dream of taking offense! mmm  - it's quite catchy (whistles) - would do for a humming in the bath

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M and G splutter

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H: Zounds gentlemen!- are you both quite well? Will I ring for a hot toddy?

M(clears throat ): Quite well, thankyou Hobhouse

H: It's distinctly Gally's and not Byron's turf to be trodding- from Grub-street to Fop's Alley - the Muse may boast - and the world - and Byron - must own, there's none like pretty Gally

M: Although a wishy-washy bore - he writes as well as any Miss, and has, according to records at the Admiralty - published many a poem
G: The shame is yours, and the gain is his, that you did not get to him first Murray!

M: Bedad Gifford!! - the man has ten thousand pounds a year - now, I do not mean to vally - but his songs at sixpence would be dear
⁠H: Frankly - he should give them gratis, that Gally

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Murray shuffles, unearths Byron's attempt at song-writing

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M: It is not my custom to parade his Lordships epistles in my drawing room - on a little easel - for any and every guest to gawp over - but Gifford you must read it - mind the filthy language - he is all but Italian at this stage 

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The letter is handed around the Council chamber - Murray gets the fire going

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SCENE 2

 

A pause in proceedings as the astounding artefact is analysed - H is in portentous mode

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H: With respect Murray - I believe you to have misinterpreted His Lordship's intent

M: Thanks be to God!

G: Heaven be praised!

G: Of all the twice ten thousand bards that ever penned a canto, whom Pudding or whom Praise rewards for lining a portmanteau - our Byron offers mere encouragement to Mr. Gally Knight in his much-laboured literary efforts  - in the form of a popular bawling ballad

M(shaking head): Damned odd - damned odd! - how can I trade on that? There is nothing in it for the ladies

H: The "ten thousand a year" might work

M: Be damned it might! With, perchance, a new frontispiece engraving of his Lordship and Gally astride fabulous steeds

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Servant knocks - enters Mr. Gally Knight - Dandy, Literatoor, and Parliamentarian

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M(nervously): Ah! Gally - er

GK: I am aware of what that Satanist has written - it has somehow found its way into the Courier of this morning!

G: Fear not Gally - we have solved the riddle - his Lordship means not to compete with you on your own ground - but offers mere encouragement 

GK(angrily): Murray - come, say, how many of mine have been sold - and don't stand shilly-shally - of bound and lettered, red and gold,⁠ well-printed works of me, Gally?

M: Keep your peruke on!  You surely cannot forget the reviews for "Hannibal in Bithynia" - when your style was compared to an ox stuck in a bog? Or "Phrosyne, a Grecian Tale" where doubts were raised that perhaps a precocious wood turner on the isle of Eig had penned same?! 

H: Oons!! - the greatest poet in the UK - who has yet to become a favourite amongst pie-wrappers - has, in truth, complimented you by his notice

G: Indeed - I remember - before the dear man left for Italy - how he'd roar in that chair (points to the room's most comfortable chair) at your latest poesy

GK: This will NOT be tolerated! I am retaining Brougham as counsel! (pointing) - You! Murray - you are responsible for this lampoon  - what am I - an entertainer in Astley's circus, a thing no better than Miss Holford's Peg, or Sotheby's Saul? (fretting and pacing) - his Lordship has no lease on The East!

H: Gally - I shall extract either an apology from his Lordship - or, nay, perhaps preferable - a libretto to a composition more to your taste, more senatorial

GK: By Byron - mmm - deuced acceptable that would be - indeed! (brightening) - it could be sung before I rise in the House - at meals - yea, at my funeral

M: Excellent notion Hobhouse - Gally - will you see reason and call off the execrable hound Brougham?

GK (chest out): Indeed - it is agreed - deuced acceptable - I will inform the Courier  - Good day, gentlemen

ALL: Good day Gally

 

H gulps, M bites nails, and G pours a stiff one

 

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SCENE 3

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Byron's Palazzo, Venice - La Fornarina is opening the post with her teeth

 

LaF: This handwriting looks like a woman's! - who is she? I will throw her and all belonging to her into the lagoon

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B examines seal

 

B: Ah! Hobby! - I am in sad want of correspondence from home! - I write to all my acquaintance at least twice a day - and rarely is the honour returned!

LaF: Bastardi! Li morderò!

B: Grazie my bell'animale! - I'll let my dogs do the biting. Now - what does my oldest friend have to say?

 

Walks the salon, reading letter - LaF watches his complexion pale, teeth clench and dressing-gown fall to the ground - in anger

⁠B: The devil be in it!! That wretch Murray !!- I MUST break with the shuffling tradesman at last!! Showing my letters - as though they were novellas of the most thrilling and entertaining kind ever written!! Novellas!! (seeks the comfort of LaF)

 

Momentarily

 

B: They want me to atone musically for a squib on Gally?! - he who has a Seat in Parliament - is fat and passing healthy -  surely he should be content⁠ with these, and being wealthy - heigh ho! Great ambition will misrule⁠, and men at all risks to sally - now makes a poet—now a fool (to LaF) - ⁠and we know of which is Gally! (laughs - and is inspired)  as it is, some folks like rowing on the Thames - some rowing in an Alley - but all the row my fancy claims - ⁠is rowing with my Gally!

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LaF smirks - slaps a housemaid who is changing the flowers

 

B: Very well - be damned to their threats of legal action if I don't librettize -(to LaF) have you an obscene Italian folk tune to mind my love?

LaF: Si - I will sing it and throw my hair wildly about the place - for effect

B: Excellento!

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LaF starts singing  "Lo Spazzacamin"

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B: That is superbly disgusting! 

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Keeping the tune of  "The Chimney Sweep" in his head - B composes 

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Albemarle Street re-convenes

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H: Now Gally! - your fears allayed - here is Byron's tribute - a moving paean to your talents - in a Classical context

GK: Oh! - but can it be translated?

ALL: No!!

M: That soft bastard Latin, which melts like kisses from a female mouth - and sounds as if it should be writ on satin - would be lost upon translation

H: Gally - we will keep to His Lordship's wishes - and pay you the homage you deserve

GK (puffed): As you say! (bows and departs with a flourish)

 

All watch as "Sally in our Alley - with Gally" burns in the grate

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END