LORD BYRON
BICENTENNIAL TRIBUTE
Amusing Poetical Anecdotes for Byronic Theatricals
by Jed Pumblechook
.
THE BLUES:
a Literary Prologue
​
KL
​
Cast
Lord Byron
JC Hobhouse
Fletcher
Miss Lilac
Lady Charlemont
Miss Lydia White
Sir G Beaumont
​
KL
​
​
SCENE 1
1813, Bennet Street - Byron's HQ
​
F(struggling with trunk): More - yet more - invitations my Lord
B: Shall we have no peace! (sighs) - show me
F: They are all sealed with blue wax (looks closer) cupids, swans, hearts, harps, and the muse Calliope, my Lord
B: A deuced swarm of Bluebottles, eh Fletcher? - mmm - at least they don't force nine courses of grouse, pike, and other coarse game on one
F: Here is one from their chief, Lady Charlemont
B(starts): Say nothing of her! - Oh that face! - by ‘te, Diva potens Cypri’ - I would, to be beloved by that woman, build and burn another Troy
F: Another - from (squints) er, a Lydia White?
B: Yes, Miss White - a Tory Virgin, apparently (throws invitations into the fire - muses) - to the Cocoa Tree tonight Fletcher? - or re-commence my Italian lessons? - challenge the Bold Webster for my thousand guineas nay, sweet lobster salad and saucy French literature, what? heh heh
F: heh - lobsters are quite out in Piccadilly at the moment my Lord (B frowns - severely) - they have been detained by HM's tax collectors at Walthamstowe (shuffles invites) - not to fear my Lord - look, here's a very pretty one from Mrs. Wilmot
B: My cousin's wife? Lucky dog - have doubts as to his commitment re. familial ties - however, she, at least, is a swan - perhaps I might frequent that purer stream
​
Hobhouse strolls in
​
B: Hobby! - stuck between invitations - there is a Party of Purple at Sir George Beaumont's - Shall I go? um!
H: I don’t much affect your blue-bottles - but one ought to be civil
B: Just so - will you go? I will endure fewer fainting fits if you are by my side - there will be - ‘I guess now’ - as the Americans say - (both chortle in amazement) - the Staëls and Mackintoshes - good (H nods) - the Lilacs and Diddle's - not so good - the Botherby's, and the rest - good for nothing!
H: We may look forward - may we not - to the presence of that blue-winged Kashmirian butterfly of book-learning, Lady Charlemont? I do hope so, for it is a pleasure to look upon that most beautiful of faces
B(starts): Yes - perhaps we shall go - to be ornamental if nowt else - Fletcher!!
F: Yes my Lord
B: Myself and Mr. Hobhouse require a dousing of tea-tree oil to fend off Sir George's literary mosquitoes - Hobby - you first (H strips down to his chain-mail small cloathes)
​
​
KL
​
SCENE 2
​
​The drawing room of Sir George Beaumont
​
GB: Why, Lord Byron (bows) - and Mr. Hobhouse (nods) how very good you are to attend our soirée of talented, fleetingly fêted people - I presume you are here to provide risqué oriental tales and disturb the ladies
B: Certainly, Sir George(scans room) - er, where is the bar? Is there a particle of Lobster to be had at all? - paw or claw?
GB: None of it - we've been excised to the very vertebrae! (motions forward) now, we have all of London here tonight my Lord, the room will be as hot as hell, take some ices instead - oh! Scamp the Lecturer wants me - anon gentlemen - stay away from Lady Charlemont - we're not in Italy after all, hah hah!
H: pshaw! who else are we meant to look at! Rogers? Good lord he has actually turned yellow
B(sighs): Dull - very dull - all raiments of Blue are here, from the regular Grub-street uniform, down to the azure jacket of the Littérateur - oh dear - what is that drone? (is affright) the swarm descends!
​
H and B are surrounded by expounding females
​
B: How very kind of you (times ten) - yes, my iambics could do with more polish - certes, the Giaour will find the Lord in The Giaour 2 (expertly disguises a yawn) indeed, I am an avid vulgarian, though only when bored, however I..
Miss White: You shall attend my morning parties - your Lordship - where we shall - with red pencils - point out your errors - grammatical, synoptical and, needless to say, moral - over tea and crumpets
B: Mornings? - Miss White - my blood is all post-meridian, consequentially I do not rise until after 2pm - I shall be only too delighted to accommodate you in my rooms any evening after 11
Miss White(turns from blue to red): Quite erm - I'm sure - erm - oh! Miss Lilac - over here (a dowdy little woman waddles over) - Lord Byron, Mr. Hobhouse - this is Miss Lilac - of the Durham Lilacs - a dynasty of cobblers, you know
​
The lads bow
​
Miss Lilac: Gentlemen (stares steadily at B) - How in need of the reforming company of female scribes you both are - as Miss White has often pointed out to us in her morning parties - your spondaics are regularly out of tune - a well-intentioned lecture - from me - would be invaluable
B: Well, you certainly look a lecture Miss Lilac! ha ha
H: Is Lady Charlemont here - do you know - at all?
Miss White: Of course - she is our Littérateuse-in-Chief - though - beware! no man's library is safe from her (laughs - Miss Lilac does not)
Miss Lilac: Mr. Hobhouse - you will join our morning parties, no? His Lordship would seem to possess an aversion to crumpets - having read your thoroughgoing work on Albania, I feel sure you at least would appreciate a dose of early-morning pedantry
H: I thank you Miss Lilac - but I fear I am, yet, even less civilised in the a.m. than his Lordship!
Miss Lilac: hmmph! - 'twould seem neither of them is for reforming Miss White - Thomas Moore is here - his spondaics are all over the place - good evening gentlemen (smiles, she imagines hypnotically, at B - and waddles off)
B: sheesh - Blue as Ether! - and much, much too good for either of us Hobby
H(stares): Byron - sometimes I wonder if you know women at all!
GB(swoops): Gentlemen, I believe you wanted to meet Lady Charlemont - she is holding forth this a-way
​
​
KL
​
SCENE 3
​
​An imposing convocation of ladies arranged in a circle, sitting on straight-backed wooden chairs
​
LC: Lord Byron - and Hobhouse - welcome to our Coterie - we seldom have male guests - Lord Charlemont cannot bear to be away from his stamps in HM's Excise office - we must rely on Mr. Sotheby you know (whispers) a bustling little bumbling blue-bottle isn't he?
​
H and B continue in their silent awe of Lady C
​
LC(doing her best): Ah! - but - naturallment at the same time - a notable oracle of Littérateur
GB: 'Twould seem our guests are somewhat overawed by your company my dear Lady - why they are quite lost for words!
B: ahem - please do excuse our slack-jawed aspects - we were just bombarded with complaints re our grammatical shortcomings
LC: Oh - Misses White and Lilac? - they need to be married - and quick - to improve the scope of their conversation if nothing else (stands) now, gentlemen - what shall you partake in? - tea, hot chocolate - we have no coffee - do we? - no, that would overstimulate the superfluous parts of the brain - crumpets - yes - crumpets - jam or honey? mmm?
H: We have had an ample sufficiency of ices this evening your Ladyship - our exquisite throttles are well moistened
B: I am stuffed like a pike
LC: Sit, anyway - here's a plump cushion Mr. Hobhouse (puts cushion under him - H attempts seductive aura) - we Blues are quite tall aren't we? (B glaring at H) - my, what a distinct cologne you wear Mr. Hobhouse! (reaches for handkerchief) - Now! - being scholars, and men of even greater learning, what books have you in your libraries? - list them if you would (smiles radiantly) - here is a pen and paper each - take your time - we are discussing the latest edition of “My Grandmother's Review”
​​
Hands articles to H and B - who start scribbling
​
H(whispers to B): Egad, my dear B! - the head of Lady Charlemont seems to possess all that sculpture requires for its ideal (sighs)
​
B is too busy underlooking at LC
​
GB: Ahem - ladies - can we expect a little improv poesy (glares annoyingly) from his Lordship tonight? - he who likes nothing more than being “on the spot" for such conceptions eh what?! (ladies titter excitedly)
LC: Sir George! This is unsupportable - my Lord - I do apologise
B: That is most gracious of you my lady (bows) - Sir George - I thank you for treating me like a rented pineapple, or a motley drowning comically in your moat - but I can not concede to your request - I shall however, attempt a theatrical paean to your noted Purple Parties
LC & GB: You do us great honour! (ladies clap)
LC(whispers to B): At two hours past midnight we will meet again - for sandwiches, hock, and pale champagne
B: I'll let Fletcher know
​
H and B attempt to leave - GB whispers to B
​
GB: Be very wary my friend - has my lady promised champagne? Does she have a list of your books? - similar happened to Walter Scott - fine man - and didn't she - while Sir Walter was in the cellar - sweep away a whole row of his library - carrying them hidden in her apron. She passed him in the gallery in this state - and what could she do but curtsy low - and what was to come of the books? - for they must curtsy too - be damned if she didn't break their spines!
B(laughs): Do you think me subdued by a blue-stocking's eye? By dandies, and dowagers, and second-hand scribes? No, Sir George - for 'though my lady is the finest beauty on my roster - I'll gladly swap an apron of Gibbon - 'ere yet, tied up in a ribbon - if she can lift Lord C's taxes on my lobster!
​
​KL
​
END
​​