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Cast

Lord Byron

Douglas Kinnaird

Reverend Francis Hodgson

Nancy - Senior Beverage Technician

Kitty - see above

a Pot Boy​

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Scene 1

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1811 - the Dog & Duck public house - four o'morn

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K(is frazzled): God help us, Nancy - how I wish these jug-bitten scapegraces at the Devil! How will we ever shift them?

N: One hour more, and we can summon the Nightwatch (shakes head) - by heavens!

K: Nay - Mr. Spooney will put us on the Town if his most profitable patrons appear at Judge Jerkin's petty sessions

N: Humph! they do keep old Spooney snug in silk pantaloons! (points at gentlemen) That handsome one - whose lips are a throne of love and beauty for most women - is a Lord of somewhere up North - that impatient ginger man is a banker..

K: Mr. Kinnaird? - pray, how do ye know?

N: He never pays (snickers) - and that small man, Hodgson, would appear to be a Divine in training - ah! holy fires, Kitty - 'twil take a swinging miracle to move these beaux!

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The girls glare and puff at the devout drinkers - Hodgson clicks his fingers

 

H: Hoy! Bar Maid!

K: Time's been called, your Grace!

H: Ha, yes! time - ha! - pfft! in this boozy ken? now, Kitty (imagines himself seductive) - if for this Shilling white (holds aloft a button) - would thoud’st let me love - nor scratch or scold - why, 'twould give my Bardship more delight than all the ale that e’er was sold

K: Your bardship! - that's a new one

B: I believe - my dear Kitty - that the Reverend Hodgson means to say - so much as - “Sweet maid, if thou would’st charm my sight and bid these arms thy neck infold that would give thy poet more delight than all Bocara’s vaunted gold"

K: oh, er - gold? who is this man Bocaras? does he own the Groat & Goat in Narrow Lane?

N: Don't be listening to that drivel, Kitty! - the taps are OFF, Reverend - lord above - have ye no homes to go to?!!

B(flutters eyelashes, which shame the raven's wing): Fetch your pot boy, my black-eyed Nancy - let yon liquid ruby flow (whispers weakly) and tell Hodgson his Eden cannot show a stream so clear or a bower so sweet as Mosellay

N: We have no French wines in here, my lord, not since our troubles on the Peninsula

B: Quite right, my girl (attempts to stand) - now, Mr. Spooney usually provides two soft beds - and chambermaids - when a late one is pulled (sits) Kitty, will you fluff my pillows and warm the sheets? I'm near to yawning (yawns) - the canny Bridget - late of this house, and your Master's employ - did not hesitate to court a crown at 4 in the morning

K: We're not on the Town as yet, my lord!

DK(nudges B): Oh! when these ogling chambermaids - whose fingers fumble beds of down, their dear expensive charms display - each glance my dwindling cash invades and robs my purse..

B: Aye, as footpads on the Turnpike way..

K: Humph! - footpads?! what - dost thou think me some by-blow's blowing?

H: Don't mind him, my bird of paradise (takes K's hand) - his words trip over is tongue oft times - 'tis a poet's curse, you understand - now, how about you rustle us up a brace of pigeon pies and a barrel of Riesling from the Rhineland

N(interrupts, angrily): What?! I'll have ye all put a brace sharpish if ye don't make for the door (waves arms threateningly)

K(is inspired): Well - there are some pies left, Mr. Kinnaird - and oysters for you, Reverend Hodgson

H: Well done, Kitty! go on - off you trot! chop chop! (leers to lads) - prime article that, my friends - certainly knows the obligations of hospitality

B(sleepily): Aye, a dashed handsome and buxom young termagant she is, Hogdson, each glance my tender breast invades and robs my wounded soul of rest (snores)

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The girls plan and plot in the pantry​​​

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​​Scene 2

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All remaining Dog & Duck booze and foodstuffs are laid out 

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DK: Zounds! (leaps up) - have you not done well, my dears! (bows, unevenly)

K: You are most welcome, Mr. Kinnaird - please, do loosen your boots - I shall pour - ale? porter? pie or oysters?

DK: All of the above my dear Kitty - eke those delicious little fellows from out their shell-like cloisters

B: Girl, let that stupid booby go and bring me a pint of gin

H: Nay, Byron! - over here Nancy...

DK: I believe I am owed a pie

N: One at a time, Sweet Jesus!! (pot boy brings over ale) Mr. Kinnaird - your ale - Reverend - your pigeon pie...

H: I wanted oysters! Where are my oysters?

DK: Oysters? I'm not paying for out-of-season oysters! 

H: Speak not of pay! (munches pie) - oh! let us change the theme..

B: Aye - let us talk of wine, talk of the flowers that round us bloom, 'tis all a cloud, ’tis all a dream - to love and joy our thoughts confine, nor hope to pierce the sacred gloom...

DK: The devil to your gloom, Byron! - let us talk of Bitters - talk of Gin - talk of well-done Beef that begs thy coin...

K(stamps foot and hoists apron): Beef?! Sweet suffering haddock! - to oysters and pigeons restrict thy din, don't dare hope to touch the dear Sirloin!

N: My Lord, you've had the last of the Gin - would ye care for a jug of Porter? 

B: Porter? 'tis perilous stuff, my dearest Nancy (mumbles) and I have no intention of getting hypochondriacal, or dropsical - yon Brown Stout has just such resistless power to make me hysterical

DK: Nancy! - Nancy, this oyster is ogling me with a green eye!

H: Kitty! - there are feathers - and a (squints) claw? - in my pigeon pie!

B: Damn your eyes! - why is my Gin bubbling like sulphur? Nancy, do you intend my stomach to crucify?

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​Kitty and Nancy are patiently triumphant behind the bar​​

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Scene 3

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The drunken blackguards - excepting B - are squirming on the floor of the Dog & Duck

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K(giggling): Lawks, Nancy! - they've destroyed their Inexpressibles! - was the porter deranged? - were the oysters estranged? - did the pigeons too strenuously protest their change in habitation?

N(also giggling): We had better send the pot boy for some buckets to ease their liver's agitation (both girls roar pitilessly) 

DK: Oh! Kitty - thou thundering demon! (is ill)

K: 'Tis but the drink you should be cursing - 'tis not my fault ye've lost your reason

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B is not unwell - having no truck with dinner at any time - however, he is in somewhat of a temper

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B: O! fair perfidious maids - whose youth be so lovely and so coy - yet say, how fall such bitter words from lips which nought but drops of honey should sip?

K: Enough foolery for one night 'ere we take to ye all with Spooney's whip!

H: What cruel answer have I heard! and yet, by heaven, I love thee still - my, er - Nancy? 

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The front door crashes off its hinges - The Nightwatch has arrived

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W: You're knicked, my fine gentlemen

​K & N: Thanks be to God, the Watch is here!

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The Watch gathers up the intoxicated rogues

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H: Unhand me, you unlicensed cockney - I am a man of the cloth! 

DK: Yes, he is - and my brother owns a bank in the Mall - he will be mightily wroth!

W: Tell it to the judge, squire - Kitty, Nancy - good eve (sniffs) - my, do I smell pigeon broth?

K: 'Twas in a pie the poor creatures did reside

W: Toothsome, by Jove! - now, have you some bootlaces 'ere we can drag these blockheads to the curbside? 

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The Watch drags the blockheads out - Kitty and Nancy collapse into bed

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K: Aye me, Nancy - perchance the Town would be less exhausting!

N: Blimey! - ouch! (jumps out of bed) - what is this effrontery?

B: Good evening, my dears 

K & N: My Lord!!

B(laughs): Surely 'tis no shame, sweet maids - we're hardly in a nunnery

N: How the deuce did you get here?! - my Lord, think you own the Dog & Duck freehold?

B: Why, ye dawdling damsels! I had to fluff my own pillows - ah! do oblige Nancy, for the sheets are somewhat cold

N: Pfft and be damned to your sheets! (B smooths sheets) - and what think you I am? - naught but a drunken nobleman's bed-warmer?

B: 'Twas I sent your pot boy for the Watch - in truth, Kinnaird and Hodgson were so damnably foxed, they quite foamed me into a Reformer

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N whispers into B's little white ear, which is unlike any other ear in London

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​B: Hey day! What devilish answer have I heard? Thy musick charms my ravish’d ear, like orient pearls at random strung - however, Kitty - who the devil cares that the mattress has become unsprung? (jumps up) - we undoubtedly can manage, my sweet - for - in such matters - I am quite the athlete

N: I'm Nancy

B: O! far sweeter, the nymph from whom these notes are sung (rubs ear) in truth, quite shrill - and yet, by Jupiter, I’ll kiss thee still - right here, by the headboard

​K: You'll kiss the Watch before you kiss me, my Lord

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A pigeon - lone survivor of the Dog & Duck kitchen - decides now would be a good time to wreak revenge

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N: To the ground, Kitty! (dive-bombing commences) - our bed linen! now 'tis fit for aught but the scrapheap (is exhausted) - ruin save me! - shall we ever sleep!

K: To the rafters, my Lord, and catch that unhygienic bird - 'tis well known you can talk to your infamous parrot - well, off to it! - put in a good word (thinks) - better still (hoists B on her shoulders) - hop up there and beg us a pardon

B: I? - talk to a pigeon? - what know I of their jargon?

K: Explain 'twas the pot boy who slaughtered his relations - why punish us with malodorous recriminations!

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​​B climbs to the rafters - reasons successfully with the avian agitator

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B: Ah! - the sweet maids for whom I turn buffoon - come - join us in the cocoon

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As the sweet maids slump to sleep - B gossips with the pigeon re. scandals currently raging on the Covent Garden piazza - and admits defeat

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​​​​​End