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Cast

Lord Byron

Mary Ann Bristoe

Mrs. Britsoe

Catherine Byron

Susan the Maid

Rev Becher

John Pigot

Mrs. Wylde

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SCENE 1

 

 

1806, Southwell  - post 'Wheel of Fortune' party at Mrs. Byron's

 

JP: I think we can all agree  - our theatricals were an outstanding success!

ALL: Cheers!!

B: With precious few promptings or potato peelings from the audience 

CB: I'm sure we shall be called upon every year - I shall play Lady Macbeth - the Macbeths and the Gordons are related you know

B: Och - mother - the Scottish play! - well, we're cursed now - which is just as well, for I shall be in London anyways - taking my degrees in vice

JP: I shall be in Edinburgh at my medical exams

REV: Oh dear - I suspect myself and Mrs. Becher will be all that's left of our troupe a year hence

M(sighs): I too shall be venturing abroad

B: Whence, Mary Ann?

M: Tuxford - I have a suitor who awaits

CB: Is this true Mary Ann? my, you have kept that close - who is this suitor?

M: He wishes to remain anonymous - for he must clear our path with the Duke of...oh! have I said too much??

CB: Ah me child! - Past and gone is the day when we hoped that your father would give you away!

REV: Is it Mr. Dinkleworth - the dentist of renown in Tuxford? - what is he to a Duke, Mary Ann?

M(waves hanky): Oh you ask too much! - Mr. Dinkleworth was but a blind - I must away to the churchyard to pray

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M - with somewhat of the melodrama about her - rushes off

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CB: The modest competency of her performances has quite gone to her head! (huffs and puffs) - it may be a well-known aberration of our degenerate days that Dukes wed ladies of the stage - but considering our performance closed only last eve - I suspect the Spinster of Southwell is attempting to deceive - but with whom?

B: Tsk! - the darling is she of her parents alone!  The plague of her neighbours by day and by night - if we are honest, my fellow players - few in her presence could e’er find delight

JP: No maiden surpassed or perhaps ever can - in prudish demeanour the prim Mary Ann (laughs all round)

B: Perhaps you are right Mother - she's up to mischief of a matrimonial bent - Pigot! look to it! You will soon be qualified - and a tasty catch for an only daughter

JP: Me! - oh, goodness no Byron! (grimaces) - although on Miss Bristoe's mien her staymaker has bestowed his best grace - her mind stands confessed in the shape of her face - which is not promising (all nod) - her form is not faultless, though aided by art, her carriage is stately, because it's squeezing her heart

REV: If you'll permit - my Lord - Byron, 'tis you are undoubtedly the most desirable target - no offence Pigot

B(laughs): Myself!! A singular creature - yea - and a dealer in rhyme!? - no very great praise of my youth can afford - my merit solely consists in being a Lord!

CB(coughs): We have said enough about the absent Lady - 'twould but serve us right if she drove onto the village green next week in a dainty blue carriage, with a ducal crest on its door and a Duke's promise of marriage 

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SCENE 2

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A quiet lane in Southwell - B is strolling in the cool air - musing on future theatrical options

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B: "Doubt thou the stars are fire - Doubt that the sun doth move - Doubt truth to be a liar!" (lunges at tree with stick) - I will play The Dane one day - although my hair would be an issue - oh! a peruke - blonde - can't be doing with leggings - perchance a cassock of sorts - aye - and...

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Owl hoots by the graveyard

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B: Good eve little owl! Only ourselves of an evening so gloomy would venture to prowl 

M: My Lord! You have surprised me - lying down here in the long sighing grass - by a tombstone

B(startled): Miss Bristoe! Madam, how do ye do (bows low)

M: My your shoulders are broad - er - (curtseys) - er - I hope we are not been seen - I fear Major Wylde is in about the Church, somewhere

 

B at a loss for both logic and discourse

 

B: Is he just? well, zounds - what a model of piety (shrugs shoulders) - er - would the weather were better, eh? - I fear ’twill be worse - such clouds are impending as darken the heaven, ’twill be rain, so - I wish you good even (raises hat)

M: Good even my Lord (curtseys, clenches jaw) - Woe and darn it! - if the long sighing grass can't lure - what shall I do? - no lover, no suitor is coming to woo - to be married I’m sure I do all that I can - nor care I to whom, so he is but a man - a Lord, preferably

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M watches B disappear with speed as the rain begins to pelt - heads home for supper

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Mrs. Bristoe: Mary Ann where have you been - you are soaked through almost to nakedness!

M: At the churchyard - I found his Lordship whistling down the lane (thinks) - though - I was with Major Wylde - at Vespers

MB: What of Mr. Dinkleworth? - of your reputation?

M: Lord above Mama! - I do, for his Lordship's sake, hope no-one saw!

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M does not sleep  - for her plan is brilliant

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SCENE 3

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Morning - M puts on her red spotted gown, and a platted straw bonnet

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Mrs. Bristoe: The morning is cloudy Mary Ann! - wear your Pattens! (watches M scurry onto the muddy road) - Ah! it is too late

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M makes a holy show of herself  by falling into a puddle - all the village workmen, or any men, are nowhere to be seen - she drags herself out of the muck and mud and hobbles to the house of Major Wylde - Susan the maid answers the door

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S: Yes - who is it?

M: It is I, Mary Ann Bristoe - I have come to see Major Wylde

S: He aint home

M: Mrs. Wylde would do just as well 

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S yells for said lady

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MW: Mary Ann! - the state of you! what on earth - do come in - Susan - fetch one of Major Wylde's dressing gowns

M: Mrs. Wylde - I am greatly enraged, for a dreadful report has all Southwell engaged - (disrobes) - a report which I never can pardon, not I, with vexation I really am ready to die!

MW: Good god

M: And they say, Mrs. Wylde -  but I hope ’tis not true - that this dreadful report has arisen from you!

MW: Cut it short Mary Ann - what are you on about

M: Mrs. Wylde -  in a word, they say, that you say (weeps with limited theatrical aplomb) - that I’m to marry this terrible Lord! .. er the Lord Byron!

MW(laughs): What horse hockey! That Lord has a mighty aversion to having a wife - and has he but spoken to you but three times in his life?

M: Indeed I suspect he has formed some design, to proffer himself as a suitor of mine. At a party at his mother's last night his attentions increased - he stood by my chair for ten minutes at least!

MW: Not exactly a promise of marriage my dear - moreover I know nothing of such profferings - Mrs. Byron is quite my aversion - although the son is remarkably charming and docile, poor child (stands, and frowns)

M: Perchance the Major related to you our Lord's rendezvous in the churchyard? 

MW: I know nothing - and I've heard nothing. The Major was waylaid in the Vicarage last eve with an attack of sneezing and slobbering - what's more Mary Ann - you were only a smidgen more convincing in The Wheel of Fortune (sneers) 

M:  Do you contradict this shocking report? 

MW: Go away with you - you floozy! Lying in the grass - in a graveyard - at Vespers - in the rain - in the presence not only of his Lordship but of Major Wylde - 'tis not the first attempt in this village to land that Lord!

M: Sorry - did you just call me a floozy?

MW: You are seven years older than the stout stripling! (softens) - now, now Mary Ann - if report of this amateurish hoax doesn't get out (yells) Susan!! are you there?? (silence) - perchance Mr. Dinkleworth the renowned dentist will wed you yet

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M starts and yells - and crunches her straw bonnet in her hands

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MW: Mary Ann! It's Mr. Dinkleworth and Tuxford if your hope of marriage is to survive - after all, my dear girl, you are nearly twenty-five! 

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END