To a Lady Who Presented to the Author

a Lock of Hair Braided with His Own

and Appointed a Night In December

to Meet Him in The Garden

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A

 

Cast

Lord Byron

Sophie & Mary-Ann

(virtuous maidens)

Miss Charlotte & Miss Harriet  

(learnèd virgins)

Fobbs - the butler

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A

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Scene 1

 

1806 - a comfortable mansion in Southwell, Notts - Byron is a guest of the elderly ladies and their granddaughters

 

B: Well, I’m not stirring, ladies (looks out window) - the snow is vastly un-vinous this evening! - let’s have some Champagne! - where is Fobbs skulking?

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A volley of frowns from the learnèds, followed by a volley of sighs from the maidens

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S(sighing and whining): How dreary it is, my Lord - firstly - to have no balconies, and also to have such mucky weather in our usually Arcadian groves

B: Lord save us, Sophie! - you sound like Lydia Languish - fretting with self-created anguish

M: Indeed, why should you sigh and whine? - we’ve an expensive sea-coal fire roaring - why for clear skies would you pine?

B: Well said, Mary-Ann - in Italy I’d have no objection, warm nights are proper for reflection - but here our climate is so rigid, that love itself is rather frigid

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Gasps and collapsing of the learnèds - Byron calls for Boatswain and brandy

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B: Good's teeth, my dear ladies - I merely concur with that over-esteemed cockney - Shakespeare - he, after all, set the precedent since Juliet first declared her passion in a garden

Miss Harriet(stirred to life, waves walking stick): Aye! - with silly whims and fancies frantic, merely to make her love romantic!

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B pops the Champagne - the cork, unfortunately, breaks a pane of glass

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S: Oh my Lord! - the handyman is off tonight - pray, my Lord, would you care to help me in the leafless shades to sue for window repairs?

B: Where is Fobbs?  - deuced if that man isn't Southwell's worst charge d'affaires 

M(standing in a fury): Miss Sophie!! - it is my locks which are fondly entwined with his! 

S(now also standing in a fury): In firmer chains our hearts confine (gazes at B) and swell above nonsense love orations 

​B(kicks fire): Ladies, I did not come to this execrable kennel for the fun of it! - I require no assignations, declarations, or protestations!

S: How feel you about potations?

M: Libations?

Miss Charlotte(handing B. her Book of Common Prayer): Exhortations?

B: I’m almost out of Champagne

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A

​SCENE 2

 

Byron is asleep on the sopha

 

S(whispering, shaking B's shoulder): Byron! Byron! Our love is fixéd, I think we’ve proved it, nor time, nor place, nor art have moved it

B: Oons! that’s a nasty breeze - haven’t you fixed the window yet? - why doom the lover you have chosen, on winter to nights to sigh half frozen!

S: Then let us meet - as oft we’ve done - beneath the influence of the sun

B: In sooth, my dear, as the English winter ends in July - only to recommence in August - it doesn't give us acres of time

M(bursting into room with hardware): I have putty! - just think on our chilly situation, my Lord!

B(to self - mem. must find devoted lifelong servant tomorrow): Enough, enough my rural strumpets!! - while it is true we can love for hours together, there’s a chance my passion could fail to please

S & M: I’ll be content to freeze!!

B(raises fine tapered fingers): No, ladies! - any more pleadings, I’ll give loose to laughter - which, combined with my current alcohol content, will curse my fate for ever after

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Enter the learnèds, re-coiffed and stern

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Miss Charlotte: Curb this rage for imitation, young ladies

Miss Harriet: And be content not to rise above your station

B: The Devil take ye all!! There's fewer hazards visiting my Matron! - yea, e'en if my faithful hound has rabies

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The learnèds faint on top of Boatswain - Byron orders his coach, necks the remaining Champagne

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B: Addio, fair ones! Sophie, preserve my hair locket - when I am clay - please, feel free to hock it(bows deeply)

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A

END

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