Lord Byron's Constant Little Taffy

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Cast

Lord Byron

Susan “ Taffy”  Vaughan

Lucy Monk

Joe Murray

Bob Rushton

Scrope B. Davies​

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​SCENE 1

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The library -  Newstead Abbey 1811

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B: Heigh ho, dear old Joe (flings the Nottingham Courier to the floor) - I cannot settle to any thing - my days pass, with the exception of bodily exercise to some extent, in uniform indolence 

M: You have been beset by bereavement since your return from t' East, My Lord

B: Forsooth - 'tis sadly true. Other men can always take refuge in their families, I have no resource but my own reflections - (paces) I need to set my mind to something rocky - something to distract me from the dead 

M: Have you forgotten Mr. Claridge is here?

B: Oh yes - my old acquaintance and school-fellow - so old, and be damned to him, that we have nothing new to say on any subject, and yawn at each other in a sort of quiet inquietude

M: If I could sue..

B: Yes, Murray

M: 'Taint all gloom my Lord - the partridges are plentiful, hares fairish - pheasants not quite so good, but the Girls on the Manor are ready to be (Byron pretends to censure) - your mines in Rochdale could do with some attention - there could be very rocky negotiations there - and Chaworth-Musters is riding over your land hunting for game

B: Is he by God!! - MY game! (slunks into chair) - how very droll (sighs) - no, I am not a man of business, nor law - nay, not even a man who wishes my enemy's horse would bolt and throw him onto one of our ornamental forts - no - Lord have mercy on me, for I am lonely Murray

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Knock on door - Murray opens

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M: My Lord - the new help is here to replace one of those bad faces you warned off the premises

B: To the scullery Murray - I require an egg

M: Yes, my Lord

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B throws “The Fudge Family in Paris” to the floor - a knock on the door

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B: Murray? Do you have my egg?

M: I do my Lord - it's a fine duck creation - er - my Lord I have our new housemaid here for her first lecture about expectations, morals and coiffure etc.

B: Fine - show her in

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In walks a bold strawberry-blonde Welsh stunner

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T: All right your Lordship?

B: What? sorry - you must not be so forward young lady - I am now your Lord and the Master of this manor! (gets over his indignation quickly) - please, stay standing - Welsh huh? We have quite different manners and tea-times here in Notts - now, Lucy, a flat-faced Warwickshirewoman, will explain my quirks and requirements

T: Oh the English nobles! (laughs) - aren't ye all but quirks

B: To the scullery you Welsh witch! Jesus save us (shocked at Taffy's boldness - and looks more than once at her beautiful eyes and fairy ankles) - well!! OFF with you!

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Taffy smiles and boldly bows in an attempt at charming rustic humour - which goes not unappreciated

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B: mmm, Lucy will tear her pieces - heh heh! oons! (B picks up “The Fudge Family” and whistles as he reads) 

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​​SCENE 2

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Staff is called to attention in the Library

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B: Very well - as we have new members of staff  it as well to inform you that since my return from The East - and after witnessing the grand seigneurial customs they have -  I am to become a great  disciplinarian - I will enforce the abolition of caps - no hair is to be cut on any pretext - stays are permitted, but not too low before -  full uniform always in the evening 

L: I am to be vice-commander of all the makers and unmakers of beds

B: Correct Lucinda - Taffy - you shall fetch me a hen to hatch my Athenian tortoise eggs 

T yawns

B (glares): Bob - Rushton?? Where is he??

L: He's polishing Taffy's buckles

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Bob runs in covered in shoe black

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B: Bob - you shall take custody of my hedgehog, my mastiff, and teach my two living Greeks a smattering of the local patois

Bob: Yes my Lord

B: And think twice about poaching on my Manor (raises a threatening eyebrow)

Bob: Yes my Lord

B: That will be all - do not disturb me, unless there are squabbles amongst the girls - I am working on a quarto of my  travels in The East

All: Yes my Lord

T(throwing herself in B's way): And after I've gotten yon hen, Sir? What d'ye expect of me then ay?

B(taken aback): Damned if I am able to check your impertinence! - stay here are dust every one of my books - and be sure to put them back in the right place!

T: Even the ones you've chucked on the floor?

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B would normally be incandescent - however, Taffy, high on the Library ladder, distracts him somewhat - and for months to come

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​SCENE 3

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​Byron's study, which is in a heap of paper and empty ink bottles

 

B(to Bob): Argghh! This climate kills me -  I can neither read, write, nor amuse myself, or any one else

Bob(fixing fire): Your days are indeed  listless, and your nights restless my Lord

B: There are in the next room three ladies, and I have stolen away to grumble!

M(pouring the brandy): My Lord should away to the perverse distractions of Lunnon

B: I would away to The East my faithful Murray! (grinds teeth) - the devil be in't!!! I have 3800 Acres including Forest land - the Rochdale Manor  - 8256 Acres of Lancashire - yet my boot-maker and dentist will harass my return to the capital - (jumps up) the devil can boil his head!! I shall Metropolize!! Bob, fetch Taffy

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Taffy enters, late and ruffled

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B: My darling Witch - your strawberry hair is a mess, good lord - anyhow, needs must I away to London to get my epic poesy published

T: That thing on our sofa - that “Childe of Harrow’s Pilgrimage” thing?

B: How quaint your indifference to genius is! (tickles her chin) - I trust you will keep house whilst I'm away - I am more attached than I've been in months, you know that Taffy?

T: I burn with a mutual flame! - I shall write every day every long letters with Welsh punctuation affirming my faithfulness and love - until the end of time - my Lord

B: Deuced you will!  - Here is a gold chain - as thanks for your excellent library skills

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The staff line up to wave B goodbye - all are hysterically crying - except T - which does not go unnoticed by B

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B(to Bob): Taffy is to be treated with civility, and not insulted by anyone whatever, while I have the power to protect her - also, I wish you to attend to your Arithmetic - and remember my admonitions re. my game

Bob: Most certainly my Honoured Lord

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B settles into life in St. James ​ - SBD is in town

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F: Post is here your Lordship - great scads of it

B(jumps): Anything scented - beribboned - tear-stained? (exhales, with force) Fletcher - it's been SEVEN days and nights of single sorrow, too much for human constancy!

F: There's one here - in (squints) is it Welsh (B starts) - French - ppfft - oh! it's for Bob Rushton

B: Bob? Give it here - why is Bob writing to me? (opens letter) - you poltroon Fletcher! - it's from my darling Taffy - why is it addressed to Bob? 

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B collapses into chair - F fetches the brandy - Scrope saunters in

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SBD: Good even my dear Byron! - Do you have my £4k?

B: Not yet - though I do have kidney stones - I've been cupped on the loins, glystered, purged and vomited secundem artem - (rises, mortified) - worse, I've again been deceived! again betrayed! - in manhood as in youth, the dupe of every smiling maid!

SBD: A maid?! - God's teeth Byron! - why shed for such a heart one tear? (reads letter) humph! “Her true faith can alter never?"(laughs) Indeed it lasted for a – week! that's about length of Love’s forever!

B: Deceived with Bob in my own closet! -  though he, of course, is not to blame

SBD: Of course - as for that damnable strumpet! - none are exempt from the general corruption!! Let's make for the lobby of Drury Lane - you will soon repair your vital organs - both kidneys - and heart!

B(inattentive): I do not blame her but my own vanity in fancying that such a thing as I am could ever be beloved - (grinds teeth) be damned to it!! as Scrope Davies is my witness, I must not love again!

SBD: What love some twenty times has taught, my dear Byron, we needs must learn at last. I suspect in yea, a month - or two - you will be loved more than any impoverished nobleman ever was - so, en garde! (laughs, alone) - here - I have the latest guide to the milliners of Covent Garden

B(surveys himself in the mirror):  I only wonder at my folly in believing such loving attestations - I am now heartily ashamed of my weakness

SBD(incredulous): Ashamed! Zounds my dear B! are you in a coma?! - (sarkily) her love was genuine love indeed - it showed in his wings! - as Bob will also soon discover. Come, my dear friend - accompany me to the theatres of our fair capital where the maids are aught but fickle-hearted

 

B and SBD stroll through the comforting theatre lobbies of London town - B's essentials are revived by a troupe of D'Egville's ballarinas

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END