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Cast

Lord Byron

Fletcher

Tita Falcieri

Contessa Benzone

Margharita Cogni

Thomas Moore

2 Laundresses​​

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​Scene 1

 

Venice, 1818 - a red-hot conversazione at the Contessa Benzone's

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CB: Benvenuto, mio bello Lord Byron (lunges) I take as a great compliment that you have chosen my ​Palazzo for conversazione this evening (proffers hand, and steaming cleavage)

B(kisses hand): It is certainly intended as such, Contessa (sighs) - forsooth, how I tire of the learnéd “blue” visitants at Madame Albrizzi's salon (shudders) - so like every Blank-Blank Square of my late residence

CB: Si, naturalmente - our society is easy here, milord - how unfortunate it is - for you - that I have more Cavalieri Serventi than I can throw my small cloathes at (sighs, gazes at row of expectants) - ah! bless those ardent little lambs

​B(scoffs): ​A noble institution, Contessa - although I could not endure the cicisbeo life of folding shawls and holding fans 

CB: And where is that baker's wife currently under my protection? (scans salon) - your Gentle Tigress - La Fornarina - no less

B(throws up hands): Buon dio!! With respect - madam - you have turned the head of that untameable Adriatic Amazon - in her inordinate self-love, she now fancies herself a Lady

CB: In truth - milord - has she not been your abiding preference because she is so thoroughgoing a Venetian? - so beautiful in her Fazziolo? so amusing in her amoral naiveté and Pantaloonery?

B: I own (nabs a bottle of champagne) - she is a fine animal - but so fierce when angered - she is the terror of men, women, children, chattels (necks champagne) - my dear Contessa - her pranks and freaks have depleted my patience - and my vittles' 

CB: Ah! caro mio (pinches B's cheek) - fret not, you may yet throw over the ragamuffin - and perchance meet someone(thinks) - er, fresca, si? - at one of my salons, and send the baker's wife back to her oven

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​Fletcher and Tita burst into the salon

 

​F: My lord!! - scusi, my lady - my lord, that Fornarina has catapulted the laundresses into a gondola! - she's howling to the whole house that her hats are massacred with starch! - e'en the menagerie is fleeing, my lord - into the canal and out the windows, so terrified are those poor creatures of being gored!

T: Cristo - 'tis true! - the puttana, she has snapped that fine vehicle in two! - the Vice-Consul was entertaining a ragazza - for shame, not his wife - in it's cabin, and is half-dead with fright

B: That diabolical Donna! - by the god of Scrope Davies - I will throw her into the canal! - though - as a native Venetian - she is most probably watertight

 

B and the lads head out to their gondola

CB: Arrivederci, mio bello Inglese - perhaps the reign of your Medea is indeed drawing to a close (smirks, knowingly) - at least, it could be - milord - if you chose​

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​Scene 2

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The Palazzo Mocenigo is in a state of distemper 

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​M(pointing poker): Ah! - can’ della Madonna - and where have you been this evening, mio Excellency?

B(is savage): You prepotente demon! (notices impressive feathered millinery) - what, another hat? thou thundering witch, I've warned you about wearing such obnoxious tat! (grabs same, throws into fire) - where are my laundresses? who will attend my collars now? (remains savage) - who will attend Fletcher and Tita? huh? - do tell me how! (regains composure) I demand - and, by the Gods of Greece and Rome, this time I mean it - that you go back to that roaring bull-calf - your Marito

M: By Gesù, I will NOT! (is waving poker) - the lazy dog scandalously neglects his oven and cannot keep me in millinery and the frocks with - tails? - a train, non? si?  

B(controls laugh): You will not amuse your way out of yet another curséd travesty!

T: We all pray it will be so this time - milord

F: We can but hope the Saints may bless us!

M(heats up poker): Mannaggia! don't mind your prayers - where are those undrowned laundresses? 

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F sneaks the soaking laundresses into a closet to prevent battle - T attends to the half-sunken gondola

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B: Be damned to it, Margharita! - you must leave my Palazzo without delay - I am but a refugee of domestic turmoil - I shall not bear one more affray! (grabs poker, M bites) ow! - why you, you - Vacca!!

M(curtseys and smirks): Si - Excellency - I may well be - but I am your cow - if it please - your Excellency 

B(recoils): No - no - Margharita! Pack what's left of your weaponry and depart immediately (points to canal)

M: Will I wear my Fazziolo, excellency - si? (leers) 

B: er - mmm..

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​Scene 3

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Morning - Tom Moore is paying a visit

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F: Mr. Moore is here, my lord - the Fornarina is on the attack - thinking him a small woman

B: For the love of ... (pokes head down stairs)

M: Minchia!!!(grabs TM's nose) - I am milords Donna di Governo - do you think you can pass his door without me knocking you down - idioto! (takes a swing)

B: Margarita!! - put that small man down - he is my guest!! (waves) - Hallo Tom!

TM: Ah - Byron - sure, isn't it grand to see you - my, aren't you looking well (M is holding TM aloft) - Albemarle Street informs me that the sales of your quartos are quite without parallel! (wriggles, unsuccessfully) - look now, aren't Venetians fine strong women after all - why - I know many a well-acre'd farmer with unmanageable livestock who'd make great use of you, my dear girl

M(is charmed): Ah, mio piccolo uomo! - please, milord is up the stairs at his dinner (puts TM on floor and curtseys)

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​B and TM meet as old friends

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TM: 'pon my soul, Byron! - your housekeeper is quite fit to breed gladiators from
B: And yet I must dismiss her, Tom (is wistful) - undoubtedly her unnatural strength is oft - on a moonlit night - quite agreeable, but it is wholly deranging my digestion - now, here my friend - I have some lobster especially bought...

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A glass door spectacularly crashes to the floor - M strides in and grabs knife from table

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M: I hear you at the door, Excellency (helpfully points to ear) - so! - you still think to send me back to that becco ettico, my husband, do you?!

B: Perhaps your husband would not be a “consumptive cuckold” if you returned to your conjugal duties - and left me - and what's left of my consternated, terrorised household - in peace!

TM(eyes the cutlery): Ah, now - we won't be dealing in knives, will we Miss Margarita? In the name of your most belovéd mother - please, decease

M: Piccolo amico, do not interfere! - I will have my revenge on milord - (TM advances) - no, do not come near!

B(sneers): Humph! I have seen knives drawn well before your time - amore mio - if you chose to begin combat - here's a fork, also at your service

M: Ah, dio!!

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M drops knife, runs out and down the stairs - a loud splash is heard

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​​F(breathless): My lord!! - that madwoman Margarita Fornarina has thrown herself into the Canal - and is awaiting rescue with some patience

B: But of course she is (lights cigar) - have Tita fish her out, and bring her - and my laundresses - to me, pronto!

F: But my lord - she will manslaughter them..

B: Look to it, Fletcher!! Off with you

TM: Well, I never saw the like! - she has a fine devilish spirit of some sort within her (contemplates number of unmarried cousins he has on hand)​

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​Scene 4

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​​​​​T restrains laundresses - F moves the waterlogged Margarita to the fire

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B: How many hours - Margarita - would you require to restore yourself from agitation?

M(brightens): I swear on our most Holy Father - excellency - I swear it could be many hours - excellency - or days - perhaps months, even

B: I shall give you one hour - at the expiration of the prescribed period, if you do not leave the house - I will

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A cry goes up amongst the terrified staff

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F: It can't be my Lord, for she will never leave! - our laundresses are so paralyzed in fear that no collars are washed or bed linen changed

T(pouts): Yea, and n'er one midnight tryst has been arranged

F: You must apply to the police, my Lord, to guard yourself!

B: Pshaw! what a couple of snivelling servile boobies you are! I will do nothing of the kind - she is less likely to vandalise me than the Delph

TM: God love the poor creature, shivering by yon fire (beckons) - my ladies of the laundry - help me to wrap her in one of these threadbare - ere priceless - tapestries - now, don't be afraid, she is quite contrite -Miss Margarita? is that not right?

M: Si, mio amico - it is quite so 

TM: Well done - ladies, please proceed (leads the gentlemen in the opposite direction) - be sure those tassels are quite taut - we can't be certain what marine life her fine black hair has caught 

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TM winks and taps shoulders as the laundresses go about their business

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M(rears): Excellency!! I am wrapped like cannoli (snaps teeth) - these dogs have trapped me! (is hoisted on the ladies shoulders) - mio piccolo amico - will you help me?

TM: My dear - you shall return to your husband - and set your sins free (blesses the air with fine champagne)

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M swears like a sailor as she is hauled downstairs and into B's gondola

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B: Tita, Fletcher - row our noisesome Margarita back to her ovens (both arm themselves with cutlery) - Zounds! (to TM, in awe) - what a marvellously cunning ruse, my dear Tom

TM: One requires a silken thread to have a wild creature moored - heed that well if these “Children of the Sun" are to be your playmates, my Lord (frowns, paternally) - however - she will not return, for now she has lost face - (surveys broken glass and crockery) - and in quite an extravaganza of disgrace! ​​​

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B notices the laundresses hovering by the door - triumphant in their coup - realises he now has a vacancy - or two

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End​​​​​​​​​

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