Impromptus

or

My Murray!

8

 

Cast

Lord Byron

John Murray

William Gifford

JC Hobhouse

Margueritta

Fletcher

8

 

SCENE 1

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Albemarle Street, 1818 - ‘Beppo' has landed

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M: He's a fine man to be constantly sending me corrections - and blinding the printers - how are we to understand that scrawl?! (holds MS to light) Of course - he can't keep his amanuensises very long - if they're not deuced illiterate, they're Italian with but an erratic understanding of the King's English - or they are literate, and perchance more interested in my Lord's genius for non-literary conjugations

G: Byron? Why - he believes you to be the Strahan, Tonson, Lintot of the times, the Patron and publisher of rhymes - for thee the bard up Pindus climbs!

M(rolls eyes): My dear Gifford, that was all very well in Pope's time - we live in costermonger days - there is the Admiralty, the Quarterly and the Board of Longitude to consider - the days of post-agrarian commerce are upon us! - although, mercifully - (shifts uneasily) - it is still déclassé for a Peer to accept payment for his poesy

G: Until they are safely out of the jurisdiction

M(glares): No one can beat my boy, my friend!! - the pitiful sight of a man's library being sold - the poet of the realm - admits no begrudgery

G: Quite right - now - what has he for us? - a sober marvel worthy of the Abbey? - a treatise on our political failures, strictures on moral rectitude - a paean for the clergy?

M(coughs): Yes - well - 'tis but a light little thing - in the Italian manner of course - er - not Abbey-level - still, a pretty frippery while we await greater things, my dear Gifford

G: You are nervous - more so than usual - what is the subject upon thy table’s baize so green?

M: err - that would be - let's see - oh, yes - adultery - Italo/Turkic adultery mind

G(head in hands): Get Mr. Hobhouse - his Lordship will trust to his advice

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Both men sit in gloom and silence - frowning at - yet bedazzled by - B's portrait over the mantle-piece

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8

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SCENE 2

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Sometime previously in Venice - Byron's office in the Palazzo

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B: Fletcher!!

F: Yes my Lord?

B: As my Man of Learning - (hands pen and paper) - you shall have to stand in for my amanuensis

F: er - my Lord - I own I shall go to the end of the earth for you - yea, to war - e'en - yet..

B: Copy out my poesy Fletcher - good God - sit (pulls out chair) - now, write legibly as I speak

F: Yes my Lord

B: My Murray - change “Gorging the little Fame to get all raw"- to - “Gorging the slightest slice of Flattery raw"

F: Yea - that makes sense - 'twont do to repeat words from the previous stanza - though, perhaps the line is now a little weakened 

B: Fletcher? by all ye Gods of Rome & Greece! - have you been at my tomes?

F: Nay - Mr. Murray oft let me at his books whilst I waited for your plasters, toothpaste and tincture of Myrrh

B: Well now - a democratic Murray! - along his sprucest bookshelves shine the works he deemest most divine - “The Art of Cookery” - and mine

F: Tours, Travels, Essays, too, I wist, - and Sermons, to his mill bring grist - though I prefer the Navy List

B: Aye, most do nowadays! - now - despite our Admiralty Man having peremptorily published my Beppo, there are several corrections - careful Fletcher or I shall have to blame the printer - let us see - (paces) after the stanza which ends - (frowns) - I forget the number -  “For most men till by losing rendered sager, Will back their own opinions with a wager" - insert - “ 'Tis said that their last parting was pathetic, As partings often are, or ought to be, And their presentiment was quite prophetic" - got that Fletcher?

F: Shall I read it back - I..

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An ear-splitter is heard on the stairs - B & F run out - two 5'10" Gladiatrices are tearing each other's long black hair out

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G: Puttana, quello è il mio lordo inglese!! (F intervenes)

B: Enough my tigresses - we are in the middle of corrections!! - Margueritta - you are not to set foot in the door except on Thursdays and Saturdays midnight to 5 - yes, Margueritta! - it was agreed upon - non più per te!! Dio mio woman! - Marietta - oh! (hears chimes) - our appointment is due - now, 'twould seem ha ha - hold them back Fletcher!

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Fletcher's immaculate copying flutters into the Grand Canal - along with chunks of black hair, bodices - and one of the Gladiatrices

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B: Ah well! - Murray can always print a third edition - now, who is not in the Canal? (Margueritta advances, triumphantly)

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8

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SCENE 3​​​

 

The mood at Albemarle Street has not improved

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H: My friends and fellow council-men (sits, sighs) Oons - and it's not a good oons I fear - Byron has taken a Palazzo - we shall never see his alabaster countenance lit by your fire again my dear Murray - it'll be all stabbings, adultery and tertians - yea, insurrections - oons!

G: Here, Mr. Hobhouse (hands over pile of versicles) - his Lordships corrections - they appear to have been dragged through a canal, and full of some gross omissions of words which spoil both sense and rhyme

M(wipes eyes): This immoral frippery will have to be published without his name - as for the verse and the passions - we can make no complaint of cheerlessness - forsooth, we can repel the charge of monotony and mannerism

G: Indeed - 'tis is shockingly amusing - he must be mad! Such a trifle of gumpf is not our Childe - and the subject (inhales) is fit solely for a lull in the Carnivale

H: Gentlemen - although I grieve as ye (is pacing with intent) and our great hopes of getting Byron into the Abbey are all but dashed - as he now a thoroughgoing Venetian - I must admit to being partially carried along with the gaieties of the piece

M: It must be allowed (holds up a correction) - this bit here - “Oh! Mirth and Innocence! Oh! Milk and Water!" 

H: Zounds!! (holds paper to the window) - my friends - all is not lost - look! - look! (M & G rush over) - can you read it? - “The End - completed this day March 11th by the author - William Fletcher" 

M: It is the work of his Lordship's valet? Oh my stars and garters!

G: I knew it! - such ease, such diffidence re. the 7th commandment - these are the qualities of a contented peasant with access to a dashed good library 

M: Of course - Fletcher was always at my shelves - I presumed he was looking for money 

G: As it is - my most timid of Booksellers - it can stand, as a folk-tale of, we must admit gentlemen, (heads nod), the most toothsome brilliance

H: God's trowsers but you're right Gifford - and what a pretty attempt at celebrity it is! (laughs in amazement) - undoubtedly a legend flitched from one of his many mistresses - how well that Notts rustic knows the Italian way of life!

M: And how well he wears the Harlequin jacket of a Mountebank!

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H pours the brandy

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H: To thee Murray, with hope and terror numb, the unfledged authors come! - thou printest all and sellest some - ye publish, yet remain anonymously dumb - 'ere our Lordship remain eternally - yea, profitably - glum!

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8

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END

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