ON NEVER LEAVING

NEWSTEAD ABBEY

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                                                 SCENE 1

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1810 the Capuchin convent, Athens - F brings in the post

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B(rifling letters): Hanson! he's due an almighty fillip on the nose - he must be insane not to have answered my letters - unless my finances are in perfect repair? - rents coming in - coal hauling itself out of  my mines - upholsterers being paid? - Scrope prodigiously rattling sevens? (paces) - Fletcher!! are you certain there are no others?

F (shuffling): er - 

B: What is it?

F: There is a packet in the ‘giardino' - (becomes distressed) - but those Albanian washer-women run pins into my backside whenever I try to get them

B: Ha! Vive l’Amour!  

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Inattentive scholars hurl fresh tomatoes into Byron's room from the garden

 

B: The basket Fletcher! (B and F return fire with oranges) - oons! with these peltings and playings - I feel I am in fact at school again (eats intact tomato) - I require those letters Fletcher - (hands him a scarlet uniform) - here, this is canon-ball proof - it should bear a washer-woman's pins 

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Fletcher braves the ‘giardino'- runs the gauntlet of  this traditional Albanian flirting ritual to fetch Hanson's letter

 

B(angry): Hanson tells me I am ruined!- worse - the hall of my fathers has gone to decay - in my once smiling garden the hemlock and thistle have choked up the rose which late bloom’d in the way (sinks into the orange basket)

F: Heaven help us - we are not returning to the hall of your fathers my Lord?!

B(Byronic hackles rising): It is in the power of God, the Devil, and Man, to make me poor and miserable!! - but I shall not make my father’s house a den of thieves!

F: Speaking as a vassal - I would serve my Master from Europe to Palestine’s plain with an escutcheon and shield!

B: Thanks - not quite necessary as yet Fletcher - we musts return asap and save the only sad vestiges that remain

F: I'll tell the washer-women to get up your linen

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B ponders and plans

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B: mmm - perchance, I shall sit it out in Athens for aye, six months as I need more material for my Epic - plus I am not  yet a competent Italoquist - (a hefty round of strawberries hits the window) - Fletcher!! - ah, there you are, my somewhat encumbering yeoman (smiles, with affection) - you shall be the advance party - take my letters and deeds - and Hobhouse's marbles - Hanson will honour your back-pay and supply you with a small farm or mill on upon your return - or perhaps a tavern near Rochdale?

F: I should prefer to be in dear Newstead my Lord (starts packing) - I shall have to bid farewell to my mistresses - and the washer-women 

B: Be sure to, 'ere curses will be heaped - like my coals - upon your head (pats F on shoulder) - get thee home to pots of beer, beef cheeks, tea, soft beds and English as she is properly spake - off, off to the seat of my  ancestors! (gives F a gold crown) - there my good fellow - you have served me very faithfully

F(tears up): I bid you adieu my Lord - I'll pray for you abroad - be sure to take courage dressing and travelling alone - I'll be thinking upon the glory of your Quartos

​B:(to self:  - ah me! - now I can go and I can fly - freely to the Green Earths end - and taste a freedom and joy I shall probably never know again) 

 

A juicy tomato lands on B's latest MS

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​​SCENE 2

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After a traumatic sea-journey to Malta - and finding that Hanson had not forwarded any money at all - F finds his way t0 London

 

H's secretary: Mr. Hanson, there's a Notts yeoman - burnt to a cinder - covered in boils and flea bites - to see you

H: Oh good god - is that you Fletcher? (holds nose) - you look like you've been asleep in the valley of Cressy!

F: Yes, 'tis I! - both my Lord and my'sen are outraged at your late conduct - you left me in Malta begging my passage home! - 4 months at sea with only biskeat!

H: pfft - give me that sealed letter

F: My lord demands my £250 back pay and the refusal of a mill or farm at Newstead - he desired it may be paid as soon as possible

H: He's broke, you yokel - there'll be nothing for you - and there's howlers whistling through the battlements of Newstead - perhaps there's a patch near Askalon’s towers, where John of Horistan slumbers, where you and one of your wives can set up camp

F(in a rage): My lord will disperse with your services when he returns from out foreign - he told me you were a villain!

H: heh heh - he never shall - my wife has been a second mother to him - he is well-caught in the Hanson Family Web (smirks, reads letter) - what? there is nothing here about selling the hall of his fathers?!

F: My lord said - on one cloudless night of starry skies - that should he ever be induced to sell, he will pass his life abroad, as his only tie to England is Newstead - and that once gone, not Intrest Nor inclination would lead him northward from his convent in Athens - which he loves immoderately

H: That is an excellent report, for I have several buyers in my own league lined up for purchase - off to the North with you man! - take your pleas and your fleas with you!

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Fletcher arrives in Newstead - half-dead after walking for a week

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F: Newstead! Thanks be to God - I'm home! - where's my Sally! my beer and bed (runs into hall)

CGB: Fletcher! - you look like one of our mail-cover’d Barons! (hands F carbolic soap) Have you bought a bushel of pearls not larger than ostrich eggs or smaller than walnuts eggs, attar of roses and cherry brandy? Is Byron married to a Sultana with half a score cities for a dowry? Has Hanson provided funds? (grabs him by the collar and throws him into the lake) - have a good scrub there Fletcher - I'll prepare one of the better-appointed caves for yourself and Sally

F(scrubbing himself with a swan):  I have no objection to work in the Garding as it is in so Ruinous Condition but I must have my pay

CGB: Money? - you should not get it this six months - if then

F(emerging from the lake):  You are turning his Lordships Servant away? - without Either wages or warning! why ma'am, I know his honour will not let you do a Rong thing to Injure a Servant

CGB: Och! If you haven't grown a refined as well as resigned character 

F: Aye ma'am - my Lord says I am to become a very prominent person in the future family pedigree of the Fletchers

CGB: Very well ye pitiful vagabond  - you shall stay until his Lordship returns from Ægypt

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SCENE 3

​Back in Athens, Byron prepares to return home

 

​B: Oh Nicolo! That devil's shoehorn Hanson has sent no remittances - I shall n'er visit the Pyramids & Palestine! Scrope and all my acquaintance of financial obligation urge - with all requisite formality - my return - worse, my dear friend! - I am running out of specie to pay you

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Lord Sligo enters

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LS: Morning Byron - Buongiorno Nicolo - how wretched you are Byron! Are you leaving Athens for Notts? Are you being dunned ultramontanedly?

B: Deuced if I amn't!! The difference in the value of money in the East! - every luxury at an less expense than a common college life in England (sits in despair) - I am to return to cold green tea and hard tack? - never again partake of the divan and have my grapes peeled by moonlight?!!

LS: Sink me Byron, if your college life wasn't quite as luxurious

B: And how it has bitten me in the nethers! Ay me Sligo - I feel myself so much a citizen of the world, of this blessèd spot, nay, in fact all the shores of the Archipelago and their delicious climate - that this will always be the country for me

N: Our ship leaves in but two hours Milord

LS: Truth is, Byron - if you sell Newstead, you could continue with the divan into - yea - the next three generations of  Byrons

B: Mother tells me it is worth £100k - yet I cannot raise a shilling for my Italian lessons - a situation forlorn enough for a man of my birth and former expectations (thinks) - if I preserve Newstead, I return, if I sell it, I stay away?- nay - 'tis plain (Byronic blood heckles) - I must set out for Lancashire (groans) for I shall neither have coals or comfort till I visit Rochdale in person

LS(pats B on back): There Byron! - even the most social and fantastical marchings and countermarchings must come to an end - besides the ex-pats here quite despise you for mixing with the locals

B(breathes deep): Yes, I shall have to give my Tartar, Albanians, Buffo, and my amiable παιδη their notice 

N: I have packed the Greeks and your tortoises Milord - our ship awaits

LS: The very best of luck, Byron - yours won't be the first ancient pile to fall to a parvenu of the City stripe - other worlds old boy - other worlds! Adieu!

B: Adieu Sligo -(looks out wistfully at the massacred convent garden, and Hymettus beyond) - Shades of heroes, farewell! your lineal descendant, departing, bids you adieu! Abroad, or at home, your remembrance - imparting new courage - I’ll think upon glory and you

N: Dio Milord! does a tear dim your eye at this sad separation? - 'tis nature, not fear, that excites your regret (picks up B's basket of oranges) - to Newstead Milord!

B: Yea, to mingle my dust with a house of silly women prattling scandalous things, necking my finest champagne and mangling the solitude I cherish - sheesh and oons - (turns to see the Acropolis) - farewell Athens - like you will I live, or like you will I perish!

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