​

​

X

Cast

  Lord Byon

  Joe Murray

  C.S.Matthews

  S.B.Davies

  J.C.Hobhouse

  Taffy & Susan – Newstead Nymphs

  The Black Friar

 

X

SCENE 1

 

A coach pulls up to Newstead Abbey - Charles Skinner Matthews, an outré though exceptionally gifted scholar, steps out and surveys the ancient mansion

 

CSM: Sink me Percy!! - it’s worse than I’d imagined - explains the decrepitation of his morals, though - heh heh - (spies the Holy Virgin in her niche) - oh! (frowns) oons! - apologies my good woman (bows)

 

Murray opens door

 

M: You are most welcome Sir - my Lord and his other gentlemen guests await in the Refractory

CSM: Refractory? - oh well, of course - where else would the Abbot of our Adventures greet one, what? (smiles at Murray who whisks his trunk and hat boxes into a sarcophagus)

 

CSM mounts the stairs gingerly - the door opens heavily and slowly

 

M: Mind you don’t turn left - a wolf resides there

CSM: Oh thanks

M: Mind you don’t turn right - a bear resides there

CSM: Which way is the Refectory? - do boa-constrictors reside there? Ha! (nervously)

M: No, sir - his Lordship has forbidden Mr. Davies from bringing said reptiles after one particularly irksome fellow nearly strangled poor Taffy - (confidentially) - a favourite Welsh concubine of  His Lordship

CSM: Perhaps you could fetch me a large brandy before I proceed

M: As you wish, sir (has a hip-flask handy)

 

CSM stares in wonderment at the catastrophic state of the ancient place 

 

M: There sir, that should settle your nerves - when you feel able for it - the Refractory is the very last door on your left - ignore any momentary pale diffusions of light, moans, seemingly animated portraits, or random bones you may pass along the way - (whispers) - do, however, be on your guard against mob-capped young ladies - they just cannot seem to stop making sandwiches for the young gentlemen tsk! (shakes head - departs)

 

CSM throws back his dram - proceeds with care - none of the above terrors have ensued - he picks up his stride - admires the monk’s stone coffins, when an ear-splitting BOO! is heard

 

CSM: ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! Mother of God!! - Save me!!!

 

Hobhouse leaps out of a stone coffin - wearing a monk's habit - roaring his head off

 

H: Hullo Matthews!! How'd you like my spectral spectacular?! Had you going there! 

CSM: You despicable scoundrel - you damn near gave me a coronary

H: Our fearless methodist Matthews? (laughs) - now, here is your costume - and a tonsured peruke 

CSM: Heh - yes, well, I do need relief via infantile pranks to lever me from my studies, eh (still shaking)

H: Our friends - and sandwiches - are this way, my dear friend

 

CSM dons monastic garb and they stroll for another half a mile to reach the Refectory

​

X

​SCENE 2

 

The friends, all dressed incorrectly as Dominicans, which doesn't escape M's notice, are shooting at targets at the end of the ancient Abbey’s gallery

 

All: All hail Matthews of the Prodigious Intellect!

B: Dashed what kept you? Why, Matthews you're completely blanched ! - did you see a ghost, perchance?(hysterics ensue) - come, you need some brandy - here - (fills skull goblet - CSM is astounded - again) Oh, start not Matthews! - nor deem my spirit fled! In this behold the only skull from which, unlike a living head, whatever flows is never dull

SBD: Not dull - but a dashed small measure

B: Better to hold the sparkling grape, than nurse the earthworm’s slimy brood (CSM sits) - and circle in the goblet’s shape, the drink of gods than reptile’s food

H: Your wit this eve Byron, perchance is shining - but perhaps we shall leave off frightening last night’s supper out of Matthews

B: Quite right - here’s one of my favourite Mantons - now, aim your fire at the most highly crafted piece of stonework you can find

CSM: I am but ill-trained in weaponry, my dear Byron - you have succeeded in already deranging my nerves and disengaging my bowels (heads for the door) - I’d prefer the library - do you perchance still have my annotated Satyricon? - never mind - I'm here to have fun! - fun (sighs and sits) 

H: Here Matthews, we shall recess - we’re out of sandwiches at any rate - and we have not yet seen Susan and Taffy in formal evening attire

B: We shall! - mind you, Hobhouse - you are somewhat over-stepping over the feudal mark there

H(hiccups): I shall repair to the cellar - Murray can help bring up the fine wines and jellied partridges

B: To the library, brethren!

 

The merry monks abandon their pistols on a sarcophagus

 

H(struggling): The vinous substances have been rescued gentlemen!!

All: Huzzah!

B: You may pick a bottle of your choice Murray - and send for the Nymphs directly

M: Very well - with or without foodstuffs?

B: mmm (ponders) - without - for what nobler substitute than wine? We will quaff while we canst - and rhyme and revel with the dead

M: Very well, my Lord (leaves)

SBD: Are you certain this skull is human? It has the aspect of a goat or some other farm animal - or the skull of a maiden sacrificed at the altar in the good old times?

CSM: Good lord Scrope - they were Augustinians - founded, I recall...

SBD: Indeed - a fine set of fellows, I’m sure!

 

Susan and Taffy enter - although resplendent in their evening livery, both bear the marks of a recent skirmish

​

X

​SCENE 3

 

B: What shall we feast upon gentlemen?

CSM: I would quite enjoy something soothing - perhaps mutton soup, sans croutons - and rice pudding

B: Taffy - our gentle, and quite superiorly gifted friend Matthews, requires peace and comfort - what have you in that line?

Taffy(eyeing CSM): There's always Murray's cot by the fire

CSM: Not at all my dear girl - really - I will find comfort elsewhere (sighs) - someday

Susan: And why not Sir? since through life’s little day our heads such sad effects produce?

Taffy: Were you asked? - His Lordship required my advices

B: Cool it my pliable strumpets - although we are quite enjoying some guesswork regarding your scratches, you must remember Taffy - Susan has a prior claim

Taffy(pouting): And a longer chain!

B: I'll buy you a frock which perchance will be worth a few bob in the future - for now! - to the scullery and bring Matthews his soup and pudding - the stouter fellows shall have lobster from the Upper Lake - not reptiles food - and bring more wine from my fabled cellar

H: The drink of gods!

SBD(to Susan): Fill up - thou canst not injure me!

Susan: Alas Sirs! your brains are gone where once your wit, perchance, hath shone as previously this eve

B: I believe the scullery was mentioned

​

T and S race for the door - trip over an ancient Persian rug and begin to tear at each other's gold chains - gifts from B

​​

CSM: I can not tolerate the naked violence of this place a moment more (takes off monk's attire)

SBD: Naked? - sorry I was lost in The Racing Post - naked what?

B: False alarm my dear Scrope - the help are - quite understandably - vying yet again for my attention - my great-uncle, you know, elevated his housekeeper to mistress of the house

​

T and S stop fighting

​​

B: And why not? Since through life’s little day, our heads such sad effects produce? Redeemed from worms and wasting clay, this chance is theirs to be of use

Taffy: I don't have worms my Lord!

Susan: Me neither, my Lord!

​

Murray enters, pale and shivering

​

B: Saints preserve us Murray - what ails thee?
M: My Lord - I must have that yon skull cup (pointing) 

B: Whatever for, there are - what remains after target practice - rare and fine Jacobean glasses in the pantry

M(gasping for breath): 'Twon't do - I MUST have that goblet! I fear harm! 

​

Said goblet begins to rise supernaturally and lands atop B's head

​​

B(drops wine): It most assuredly is the ghost of the Black Friar - a bogle, in fact!! Of course! - his soul cannot rest until his skull is restored!

SBD: Damned impertinent - wasted a good drop of Burgundy there

​

CSM faints into a sarcophagus - Murray jumps into the ornamental fish pond

​​

B: Give me a sign Black Friar! I know not where the mass of your corruption is buried! - although, in truth, I had a go at digging up the cloisters whilst in my minority

​​

The goblet flies - once again supernaturally - into the sarcophagus where Matthews lies - no sound is heard

​

B: I wonder if Matthews has been rescued from earth’s embrace? Perchance, the good Friar has found peace atop that massively gifted brain

H: We may be damned, but we must look!

​​

The friends slowly open the stone coffin - discover Matthews and the Black Friar's reunited corpse debating early church reform and monastic infrastructure 

​​

B: Come, we shall leave them - the man-miracle Matthews has met his fate, and, one hopes - perchance has found his soulmate

​

The friends head to the scullery - in search of sandwiches, and of wenches

​​

X

​

END​

​​​