Maid Of Athens -

Ere We Part

B

CAST

Maids of Athens – 3 Daughters/Divinities

Mother of the House

Lord Byron

J.C. Hobhouse

B

SCENE 1

 

 

A shady lemony courtyard in Athens

 

M: You are most welcome English milord and his little friend! Do you enjoy lemons?

H: Deucedly!

B: What a charming pensione – can we knock that wall through?

M: It’ll cost you

H: My good woman, as the wife of a deceased Englishman – you must understand his Lordship and I require regular tale-telling over cigars of an evening

B: Shush Hobby!  - good god man - we are of course willing to pay for the sledgehammer

M: In that case – the transaction is acceptable (turns to the table) Lemonade?

 

H & B drink a jug full

 

B(to Hobby): Fletcher's gone back to one of his wives - and his beef cheeks - we must get our fine tapered fingers dirty Hobby - to work!! - step aside my good landlady – you will not take offence at our stripping to the waist to engage in this heavy labour?

M: But I have daughters – three – all as innocent as milk-white lambs!

 

H & B down tools

 

H: Yes?!

B(to Hobby): Oh give me back my sledgehammer – you gormless poltroon! Greece is paradise - I suspect the air will make me a poet yet – and is rotten with wild eyes like the roe

 

Mother eyes Byron’s gold tasselled uniform, thrown casually over the table

 

M: Well, not really - rare is the soft cheeks’ blooming tinge, tresses unconfined – never mind the zone-encircled waist

B (of course, piqued): You don’t say so – do such divinities exist?

M: You might have to wait for the Ægean wind – wooing has a minimum success rate at 42 ºC in the shade

H: We’ll bathe!

B (guffaws excessively): ‘Tis you my friend needs the sledgehammer – to remove your crusts – (to M) – I shall require bathing apparatus – salts, sponges, fine soap

M: As you say Milord – we will take our family repast at eve – when the lemons are on the wane - you will join us, yes?

H: Yes!

B: Most certainly

 

Both bow, knock heads

B

SCENE 2

 

Table covered in fine dining apparatus

 

H: Bumpers to you mine host!  – this is a topping repast!

M: Please sit – my daughters will bring great platters of our unique cuisine, influenced by the Cosmopolitan environment we have here in Athens

 

Mother claps hands – the three divinities enter the room

 

H & B (impressed): Zoë mou, sas agapo!!

M(pleased): Eat, please, whatever you enjoy – did I mention my husband was an Englishman, awfully fond of Brown Sauce and Pots of fermented Barley?

B: That’ll do me – and some fish - take back the rest!

H: That Moussaka I long to taste!

 

Katinka bows and eyes H&B - with lids whose jetty fringe takes them aback

 

M: Ah! Love is alternate joy and woe – isn’t it though?

B: Somewhat (gnawing fishbone)

H: Can your charmers dance? I am a great admirer of native customs, frocks etc.

M: Teresa, Mariana, and Kattinka!!

T,M & K: Yes Mama?

M: Clear the table my doves – and we will get to know the nice gentlemen

 

Daughters clear table, bring great baskets of flowers and wine

​

B

SCENE 3

 

Playing, singing and twirling by the three stunners has H&B dying with love

 

H: Zounds – this beats the Waltz hollow

B: The Waltz is obscene – should be banned – this (holds up arms) this! - is life!

M: I feel you belong here Milord – plus, a tan would do you no harm at all

B: I’d freckle! – and THAT’S not happening (calms down and smiles) Athens holds my heart and soul - can I cease to love thee – the town that is - No!

T,M & K: Will that be all Mama?

B: Ah! What words can never speak so well!

 

Daughters seem confused, jetty fringes fluttering

 

M: Take no offense – they need English lessons – or English husbands peut-etre?

H: I have a proper degree – from a fine University – perhaps I may be of assistance?

M(eyeing H’s non-gold-epauletted jacket): Appreciated – but I feel their grasp of punctuation and fine handwriting would be better served by Milord – (to B) – you could offer me, say, 500 of your English pounds to teach them?

B(gazing at the divinities): Pay? – You?! I owe about 30k back home!! – Mother is fit to slaughter me! - No – but I shall write a throwaway Ode to one of the Maids  - which will live through the ages - despite much better stuff I shall later write

 

H & B get up to leave, kiss the hands of Mother, salute the Divinities

 

M(sighs): So be it – but give, oh give me back my sledgehammer!

H: We’re off - flying to Istambol – a thousand thanks (bows indistinctly)

B(to T,M & K): Think of me, sweetcheeks -  when alone!

 

Mother and Divinities wave and weep, for a bit

 

H & B: Zoë mou, sas agapo!

B

END