Cast

Lord Byron

JC Hobhouse

Fletcher

Mr. Adair - English Ambassador to the Porte

Sir Stratford Canning  - Envoy

Sultan Mahmout

 

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​SCENE 1

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Constantinople, 1810 - the ‘Salsette' frigate docks 

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B: Fletcher, take the dragoman and seek out Mr. Adair, our Ambassador to the Porte

F: Aye, my lord - Mr. Port (scurries off, whispering) come, Vassily - we shall find refreshment first - what is ‘ ale' and ‘ The Town' in Turkeyish?

H(scowls at B): I hardly imagine the ambassador would personally greet every arriving Englishman

B(returns scowl): Humph! - have you seen my hat? of course he will - Sligo is the only other noble we've come across - yea, several Hons. 'tis fair - but none with small white hands and silky curling hair

H(consults Murrays Patented Guide Book): Firstly, we must seek out the Walls of the Seraglio - then we'll scour the four miles of immense triple battlements - covered with ivy - ooh! - that will make for a picturesque sketch - then we shall surmount all 218 towers - after breakfast we will then...

B: Hobby - d'you know we've been a-voyaging an entire year together - I have known a hundred instances of men setting out in couples, but not one of a similar return

H(distracted): Be damned - 'twould appear we need a firman to visit the Mosques

B(smoking fervently): I am confident that twelve months of any given individual is a perfect ipecacuanha

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​Fletcher - remarkably relaxed and baked to a cinder - and the dragoman eventually appear with Adair

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A: How do you do, my lord (bows) - and Mr. Hobhouse - you are most welcome to Constantinople (observes vast amounts of luggage) - I see you have not managed to make it off the dock? Well, I wouldn't blame you - hospitality here is necessary, for inns are not common 

B: Certes, we have merrily lived in the houses of Turks, Greeks, Italians, and English, today in a palace, tomorrow in a cow-house, this day with the Pasha, and the next with a Shepherd...

H: ... at sea in a most frightful squall

B(glowers at H): Aye - and in the doldrums for weeks - and weeks

A: Such nautical misfortunes! how did you both not lose your reason?

B: A great deal of buffoonery via my blockheaded valet and sundry cursing Greeks

H(smugly): For myself, rhyming and journalizing - for his Lordship, staring and doing nothing, unless smoking can be deemed an active amusement

B(nostrils flare): We shall be grateful for any accommodation, your Excellency

A(bows): Most Englishmen expect a country house party, with white brandy and jellied partridges replete, and framed pulchritudinous ancestors in the bedchamber to send them wistfully off to sleep

B: Ah - you have met mine Lord Sligo! (dons Albanian capote) lead us where you will, Adair - and we shall be content 

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Horses are provided for B & H - Byron's suite, consisting of two Turks, two Greeks, a Lutheran, and the nondescript Fletcher, follow on foot 

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A: We've arrived, gentlemen - a fine mansion you'll agree (shutters and receding eyelashes flutter)

H & B(look up): My!! 

A: Nay! my friends, nay! restrict yourselves - for the sake of King, country and - my Lord - your fine white neck - to our marble bath-houses (H &B frown) - now, I have the honour of informing you that the Corps Diplomatique audience in the Sultan's seraglio is fixed for tomorrow eve - you shall both witness an astonishing Oriental spectacle! - Pray, shall we have the honour of your presence at table this evening?

B: Fletcher and my staff shall be much occupied in attending my wardrobe - and we, should I say, I - must bathe in rosewater and recuperate

A: Tomorrow it is, my Lord and Mr. Hobhouse (bows)

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​SCENE 2

 

H & B are busy on the tourist trail

 

H(checking list): Well, we have been up the Bosphorus into the Black Sea, navigated the walls of the city - indeed I know more of it by sight than I do of Wimbledon (shivers) - oons! - will father think me still in Eindhoven?

B: You are tempting conscription if you stay away much longer, Hobby (breathes deep) - are not the walls of the Seraglio like the walls of Newstead gardens - and much in the same order?

H: Surely the loveliest spot on earth - the enormous cypresses - an arboretum of the dead! (is inspired) - hold awhile, I must stop and sketch

 

The lads dismount - H sketches, B eats apricots under a myrtle tree

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B: I never beheld a work of Nature or Art which yielded an impression like this prospect - from the Seven Towers to the end of the Golden Horn

H: We are promised an equally impressive evening, Byron - we shall bend eyes on the Sultan Mahmout 

B: Verily - the last of the Ottoman race! (B feigns an afternoon nap to fend off H's burdensome timetable)

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Evening at the Embassy 

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A: Lord Byron - Mr. Hobhouse - may I introduce our envoy, Mr. Canning

C(chortles): How marvellous you both look in your scarlet fancy dress! Quite as becoming as other people's uniforms (cocks head) - forsooth, what a remarkable profusely feathered hat, my lord - is the donor long dead?

B: Do let my valet know whenever you plan a return to London, Mr. Canning - I shall book a misty morning and clean my Mantons especially for you (C imagines a compliment) - Adair, I shall, I suspect, see you eventually inside the Seraglio

C: Why, where are you off to?

B: Naturally, as a peer of the realm I should outrank the ambassador in the procession - where exactly is my place in the order, Adair?

A(gulps):  The Turks ignore all but officials - any amateur - even a peer with legitimate rights at home - must be content to follow in the wake of the Embassy 

B(head swishes wildly): By the Beard of my Father! (superfluous hat-feathers are shed) Am I to make do with honours paid only from the Pasha and the Commander of our frigate?!Am I but to rank amongst sundry idle English varlets? I wish to have a view of the Sultan!!

H: Byron (spits feathers out) Byron! - take that damned hat off!

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B stomps out with a look of scornful indignation on his fine, imperious features - H mumbles and apologises

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​SCENE 3

 

Morning - the mood has not improved

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​F: I have a letter for you my Lord (passes same) - your regimentals are immaculate and your egg is swimming in vinegar (mumbles) I am off them marble baths if you need me (scampers)

 H: By the gods! - that plaguy yokel will have us all bagged and drowned yet (locks doors and windows) the Captain Pasha cuts off heads every day - and a Frenchman’s ears of late - although, for a Frenchman, it could be worse 

B: A letter? is it my remittances at last? (is distracted) - you're going where, Fletcher? Oh, its from Adair, humph  (reads)

H: An apology? 

B: 'Twould seem - of sorts - the Austrian Internuncio and a Count Ludolf have been consulted and confirmed the form with regard to my rank and precedence (sulks)

H(reads): They would be honoured if you would  join tonight's procession as a simple individual, and humbly to follow his Excellency

B: As his ox or his ass or anything that was his, I suppose

H(waving letter): This entire transaction is a characteristic exhibition of the neck-or-nothing audacity of your undisciplined youth - a Lord among adventurers and an adventurer among Lords!

H: In sooth, 'tis most decent of him (stirs) - come Hobby - oriental splendour awaits! Superb horses covered with gold & silver harnesses, men with armour studded with precious stones - and what-not​​

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Evening

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A: Gentlemen (bows) - ah! the early evening golden mist of this magical city - er, did you get my letter?

B(recovers his affability): That I did Adair - and I thank you and apologise - it will be our pleasure to attend (H and B don jackets)

A: Oh, I am pleased - what are you wearing?! Why are you in blue worsted wool?

B: Your impolitic man Canning made it quite plain - so plain indeed, such commentary would lay him flat on Golders Green if he dared such insolence at home - that our regimentals and accoutrements were somewhat waggish

A(fuming): It is a matter of order in question - not as representatives of your country! You simply must repair to your original uniforms

B: And hats?
A: er yes - most certainly​​​​​​​

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​SCENE 4

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The procession is long, the heat and tempers intense, B & H linger towards the rear end

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B(standing on horse's back): The devil be in it! - I still can't see the Sultan!

H(frazzled): Well, why don't you stand on your great big feathered hat

B: Excellent notion Hobhouse - more to the point - I'll stand on yours!

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H and B wrestle with the helmets 

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H: You shabby fellow! (gets a firm grip on the chin strap) - mind my Astrakhan! (things are getting strenuous) Is it my fault that the 2d edition of your Satire - with additions, no doubt - and your name on the title page - is still not out! 

B(scores a handful of fur): My booke! what the devil about yours? purloining some sentimental sing-songs of mine own - hot from my anvil - to relieve the boredom of your ‘ Tours'?! (has gained H's visor) - and  all because a letter from a Lincoln’s Inn Bencher for your harpings was full of praise!

H: Ha! we shall see to whom the paper critics offer their bays! (B's finer feathers slip through his fingers - horse rears)

B: pfft! what matter? - the Mediterranean and the Atlantic roll between me and any criticism for my lays! 

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B is dishevelled but victorious - elevates himself to study the Sultan Mahmout, whom they have succeeded in distracting

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​SM(points with rifle): Adair, who is that beautiful, albeit violent, woman - the one with the enormous feathered hat?

A: erm - that is one of our English noblemen - yet a stripling, hardly shaves, cannot tie a cravat by himself - you understand - why, he's barely left the house of his adored mother!

SM: Indeed - what a singular young person! Although much too young - and pale - to travel in this country without either protection nor sunscreen

A: Not at all, he has hardy Scots and Notts blood - why he has visited with Ali Pasha at Ioannina!

SM: That is hardly surprising 

A: Would you care to be introduced?

SM: mmm (cranes neck) - there would appear to be some coolness betwixt him and his unkempt little friend - ew! (winces as B cracks H's Astrakhan) - quite the tumult! (laughs) must have a decent boxing master - he has our ‘ savaşçı ruhu'!! ouch! your nobleman has knocked his little friend witless - come, we must leave 'ere my hareem grows listless​

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The Sultan mounts his horse - Adair is commanded to pluck a handful of B's feathers as he passes - S rattles an admiring,  jewelled hand in B's direction

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​SCENE 5

 

​Byron and Hobby return to the stone pier as H takes his leave​

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H: For you (divides with B a little nosegay of flowers) - I shall not shed tears as I board for home on this lonesome dock (sheds tears) - I shall gather Scrope and all our better acquaintance to drink your health - and your book - in a bumper of hock!

B: For you (hands him the last remaining feather from his helmet) - after all, I do love thee Hobby, thou hast so many good qualities and so many bad ones it is impossible to live with or without thee (offers paw) give me your honest right hand in friendship and peace - and disturb not my tranquillity beneath the blue skies of Greece!

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The friends shake hands and part - B to Athens - H to a soggy Wexford after being conscripted by his mightily irked father

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​END​​​​

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