1806, Southwell - 'Fugitive Pieces' is hot off the presses

REV: Congratulations my Lord - it is indeed a handsome, though slight, volume
B: Have you read it?
REV: I shall - once Mrs. Becher is returned - we enjoy reading to each other - once our mutton-chops have been thoroughly digested 
B: er - perhaps you may peruse it solus - most are penned - ardently - to my various loves 
REV: Oh! - nothing too warmly drawn one hopes (scans the amorous page)
B: Deuced if I know how else to describe love's delirium! - the panting, the unspoken vows, the liquid eyes, etc. (frustratedly paces) Becher? - Shall I repress my Bosom’s fire, lest prudes should pine for envied bliss? Lest age should wake to young Desire? And fault’ring try the tasteless kiss?
REV: You must my Lord - the Ancient Virgins of Southwell will not bear it! they have already made your evening passades known throughout the county - and what of the 'loves' themselves? - how will they recover their reputations?!
B: No fear Becher - I have named them all Caroline - or Mary
REV: mmm - well, at least that was wise - forsooth, we can always plead your voluptuous youth 
B: pfft - and oons! Pity speaks in beauty’s sigh, when heartless critics chide the Lay - How dear the beams of beauty’s eye? to be sure, they shall chase the clouds of hate away
REV: Youth and beauty may well offer heavenly consolation - our over-30's may be less forgiving! Come let us scatter the volumes amongst our neighbours - and take heart Byron, 'tis but your beginning - your future, Mrs. Becher assures me - is poesy

 

 

 

REV, B and Savage are strolling towards Burgage Manor

REV & B: Elizabeth!
EP: Byron - (curtseys) - Rev Becher - my you both look somewhat jittery this morning! What are those little books in plain wrappers doing in your basket Reverend?
B: My poetic bantling Elizabeth - the improper scribblings of my extreme youth
EP: How splendid Byron - I presume there is a copy for the Pigot house?
B: The opinion of your house is one I most desire my good Queen Bess (bows) - but I promised your brother none of the females in your family can see them (EP takes one) 
EP: Pshaw! (reads inscription) - 'Vale'?, Byron?
B: yea - I suspect the contents shall pre-empt my departure from Southwell, and return me to that Abbess of sensuality, Mrs. Massingberd
EP: Take courage my friend - we are not all  wither'd and repress't - our annual wife-swapping fayre suggests quite otherwise
B(kisses EP's hand): In words from woman’s Lip divine, since Bess’s words and smiles are mine - I shall not fear a thousand Foes! From you alone I claim the bays, since you approve my simple song, your censure shall be my warmest praise
EP: I've yet to read it Byron - although, I suspect you have spurn'd despotic Envy’s laws (winks)

Mrs. Byron Furiosa rumbles towards the green - S snarls 

B: Be damned! -  'tis that Upas Tree, that Antidote to the Arts, Mrs. B

REV: Ooons and ouch! - the soft warblings of Southwell's amiable Alecto! 
EP(whispers): Her higher notes are particularly musical - on a calm moonlight evening they can be heard to great advantage
CB: Byron!! Where have you been? Did you unshoe my horse? 

B bows deeply

CB: Oh you devil!! - you're just like your father - God bless him! Have you been living at the Hut? In an estate cottage with a wench yclept Caroline? humph - I thought so - the natural Ruby from your cheek has blanched! What is in that basket Becher? (grabs basket) - what is this pornography! - (throws book at B) - you will disgrace the royal house of Gordon! - Reverend you will burn each one of these!
REV: You chanced - perchance - upon a particularly saucy ode - it can be excised Mrs. Byron - pray, read the remainder - I feel certain you shall be proud of your exceptional son
CB: Humph! - do I merit an Ode? - let me see - Byron? - is there an ode to your mother??
B: I am drafting an epic - in epistlatory form - you shall not go to your grave unforgotten
CB: I am not an Episcopalian - however - that is well. Come, Miss Pigot, Becher - I'm having a tea party at Burgage -well! help me to rip out the offending ode!- and we shall discuss my son's booke
B(furious): 'Twas not to soothe the captious Fool my youthful Lyre attuned its string! (takes basket) - Let venal rhymers coldly sing - my strains in glowing stanzas roll, and no withered leaves shall entwine the votive offering of my Soul!!

B strides towards Burgage Manor - the company , and Savage, follow in varying stages of amusement





 

Drawing room - Matrons and Ancients are arrayed - some with tea - some with fortified wine

B: A pleasant afternoon, my most Venerable neighbours (bows, again with a degree of sarcasm)
ALL: Lord Byron
B: No, don't get up - I am in need of a chair myself - (grabs CB's favourite) - as chance should have it (to Ancients) - I shall be leaving your cursed, detestable & abhorred abode of scandal, Antiquated virginity, & universal Infamy (A's gasp) - yes - and - I should like to leave you a trifle - heh heh - for your amusement or approbation (hands them each a copy of FP) - well, anyway, anon and....
CB: Where do you think you're going? - (places B on an indifferent chair) - we shall hear the good ladies reviews first (REV & EP nervously take seats)
REV(trembles): Now, our most Ancient of gentlewomen! - remember we were all youths once - yea - during the Restoration in some cases - we shall allow youth it's warmth, yes? (scans room pointedly)

Volume is perused

​

Matron: What an astonishing package! - (quotes) - "No more with mutual love we burn, No more the genial couch we press, Dissolving in the fond caress; Our love o’erthrown will ne’er return" (general fainting and clattering of tongues ensues)

Ancient: You most profligate Sinner! 

Matron: Who is this lucky, lucky Mary - you rogue dissembler of country maidens

Ancient: Unrepentant juvenile lampooner! 

Matron: The “poesies Erotiques" are the most exceptionable - who are these blessèd damsels? Spill yon beans

Ancient: You are an egregious stain on your noble Norman name! 

Matron(takes B's arm): Pay no heed to the tongues of  the Ancient Beldams my Lord - for they know not of the joys of promiscuous love

B: Dearest of Matrons - my, how naturally pleasing you are! - forsooth, frail must the Virgin be who falls seduced by artless songs like these - internal shame her soul appals - whom artless songs of youth displease. The minds of fair untainted  maids from verse will surely remain the same

Matron(to A's): Where vice the burning breast pervades, no verse can quench the subtle flame

EP: Why should verse to sinning move? Temptation’s something more than words

​

B is moved to the very bowels by his defenders

​

B: In words from woman’s lip divine, since woman’s words and smiles are mine, I shall not fear a thousand Foes (rises to kiss hands of Matrons and Elizabeth) - Oh, I forgive the lying throng - (sneers at A's) - from you alone I claim the Bays

CB: Your wither'd frowns shall not check my son's tender strain (reaches for tongs) - he has not sung in vain! 

 

Savage lunges at the Ancients - snatches necklaces and perukes

​

REV: No!! Savage!! ( jumps atop S trying to extricate jewellery)

Ancients: Hurry!!!

B: Here savage savage savage (tempts S with fresh peruke)

CB: I have them! (holds up necklaces triumphantly) - I demand apoplectic apologies to my son for your insulting reviews of his first poetical warbles!

Ancients (panicking): Yes, yes - freely given(to B) - what know we of the fine arts? - or the unlawful loves of youth?

CB: Very well then, I will have the dog incarcerated - here are your lockets - Oh! they have your names inscribed - Sophia, Charlotte, Brunhilda - here - Oh! - they each contain the same miniature - are you kinfolk? 

A's: er, ah - Yes!!!!!

REV(howling): No!!!! 

EP: Reverend - why were you painted in your small cloathes? 

B: Becher! - you PRODIGIOUS hound! (lifts a locket) - how handsome you were - say - thirty, nay forty years ago!

​

Ancients faint into a toothless heap - REV evacuates at speed to the Vicarage and Mrs. Becher

​

B(roaring): Here then are our Venerated Virgins! - the Carolines and Marys of the early Hanoverian period!