Lines Addressed To The Rev. J. T. Becher

On His Advising The Author To

Mix More With Society

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Cast

Lord Byron

Reverend Becher

Owen Mealy

John Hanson

A beautiful Quaker

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 SCENE 1

 

 

The Reverend and B are lounging by the fire in the Hut - Newstead's estate office

 

B: Becher! you tell me to mix with mankind; I cannot deny such a precept is wise - but retirement accords with the tone of my mind – and be damned to it! - I will not descend to a world I despise

Rev. B: Despise? you – an unweaned stripling – despise the world already? (empties his pipe in disbelief) – what will be left to you at four and twenty?!

B: The world is before me Becher – as soon as I come of age – I shall mine the ore of my remaining youth and pop my clogs before I pass the twenty-four

Rev. B(blesses himself):– what a thing to be wishing on yourself, my Lord! When you have all the advantages of youth - something of a fortune if you’d lay off that rotten, corrupt lawyer Hanson – legendary handsomeness which will stir the loins yea two hundred years hence!

B: Loins! Ha, Becher – I think perhaps you live somewhat vicariously through me and my tales of assignation and perspiration

 

Rev. B sighs in agreement

 

B: Maybe when infancy’s years of probation expire - perchance I may strive to distinguish my birth - does the senate or camp my exertions require?

Rev. B: The gazettes say the Navy is much more popular nowadays – or perchance you could become an asset to the House and move to cut back on the bar bill

B: Bar bill? A bill to bar what exactly?

Rev. B: It’s hard to believe that some members of the Upper House are in it solely for the free booze

B(surprised): Sink me if that isn’t motivation enough! – (laughs hysterically – without Becher) – No my rustic religious preceptor – I shall find me a well-situated cave with natural, loving maidens, cushions – wine, food and tobacco of all sorts – to sustain me – and then – it’s Addio!

Rev.B: Have you told your mother 

B: She will have retired to a convent in Jutland at that stage – experts at mead brewing and tong-making – I shall finally be free!

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 SCENE 2

 

The corrupt estate manager of Newstead, Owen Mealy, slithers into a position on the settle

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O: Evening my Lords

 

B takes exception but moves on

 

B: Mealy – where are my rents? And prepare me a room – the best – with a freestanding bath and two of your best maids. I shall be living here for a bit whilst Mama and I are a danger to each other

O: Here!! You would be in the way of my business ventures – why can’t you stay in your exceedingly decrepit Mansion?

B (too tolerant of such liberties, perhaps): I have no home at the moment – one is hazardous to my life – t’other to my morals – and to our birdlife – see to it Mealy! Chop chop!

 

B smacks O on the legs with a decorative warming pan

 

B: To confess Becher – I do have ambition - the desire in my bosom for fame bids me live but to hope for posterity’s praise – deuced if I’m not ashamed to admit it - could I soar with the phoenix on pinions of flame?

Rev. B: Oh dear – you would expire in the blaze - besides you have lawfully begot no male heir

B: mmm – we must move from this fire-side – it ages my complexion somewhat

 

B and the Rev decide to go for a stroll – they encounter Hanson's coach and twelve upon the road

 

H: Why Byron! (glares down his nose) - Who is this parochial parson? – anyway – I have been reliably informed that your mines will bring in £60k – isn’t that marvellous - you can now feel safe getting into insane amounts of debt - thereby necessitating the sale of Newstead  (cocks a covetous snook towards the ancient pile)

B: Well, Huzzah Hanson!!

Rev. B: Caution my dear Byron

H: ‘DEAR’ Byron is it – mind your place, rector

B: Oh! how I wish I had the ruthlessness to sever ties with you Hanson – I feel I shall regret it one day

 

Hanson is helped back into the carriage by four liveried footmen – waves from the window with a silver filigree’d glove

 

Rev. B: It appears - my dear Byron – you are being yoked at from all directions – a sweet simple girl – and a subsequent marriage will steady your boat

B: I have tasted the sweets and the bitters of love - in friendship I early was taught to believe – yea, my passion the matrons’ prudence reproved - I have found that a friend - never mind a wife - may profess, yet deceive

Rev.B: Don’t overthink it – although cares do become you – look yonder! 

 

B and the Rev. spy a beautiful girl in very plain attire walking towards them

 

B: Yes - lovely  - now Becher - why should I mingle in Fashion’s full herd? Why crouch to her leaders, or cringe to her rules? Why bend to the proud, or applaud the absurd? Why search for delight in the friendship of fools?

Rev.B: Quite – a nice retired life would suit you now that I come to think seriously on it – let’s introduce ourselves

 

The Rev. and B bow to the young lady – shyly, she attempts a curtsey

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 SCENE 3

 

Rev. B: Ahem  - may I make bold and introduce ourselves Miss – I – as you may have observed – am a rather forward clergyman- and this is my young friend who should get out more, Lord Byron

Q: Hullo, I am a Quaker and do not recognise your dog collar kind sir – or your inherited wealth my lord

 

B tries to speak – but cannot – he simply gawps

 

Rev. B: Don’t mind him - his senses struggle with his  will – and his thoughts are quite represt (to B – “check those rising sighs!) – dashed if I have ever seen him at a loss

 

Q (with great charity): Your Lordship has obviously received a first-class education and is therefore an incompetent conversationalist – however our eyes a sweeter language speak, no? – besides - the tongue in flattering falsehood deals, and tells a tale in never feels - deceit the guilty lips impart, and hush the mandates of the heart

Rev. B: There you have it! the soul’s interpreters, the eyes, spurn such restraint and scorn disguise – Revelations 13:2 – (still glaring at B)

Q (resigned): Ah well – I’m making zero progress here – pity – I could have turned that mansion into a productive residence for the benefit of society – ah! me

 

Q walks ever so gently away on her fairy feet - the Rev thumps B on the arm

 

B: Oww!! deuced you'll puck me! (gazing) Her image I can ne’er forget! 

Rev.B: Pfft! She's gone - and small wonder

B: Perhaps this was not love! – (to Rev.) To me what is wealth? – it may pass in an hour - if tyrants prevail, or if fortune should frown - to me what is title? – the phantom of power.

Rev. B: Well then  - you awkward though promising youth – go after her -  she cares for neither
B: Deceit is a stranger as yet to my soul -  I still am unpractised to varnish the truth – I can hardly look upon her never mind tell her I love her - however I shall a pen a very lovely poem

Rev.B (pats B on shoulder): Perchance, my exhortations were unjust – why should you live in a hateful control? -why waste upon folly the days of your youth?

 

 Rev. and B continue their stroll – B jumping over fences and bridges to avoid the approaches of other randomly ambulatory females

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END