LORD BYRON
BICENTENNIAL TRIBUTE
Amusing Poetical Anecdotes for Byronic Theatricals
by Jed Pumblechook
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the badly-laid plans
of mary ann
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Cast
Lord Byron
Mary Ann Bristoe
Mrs. Bristoe
Catherine Byron
Susan the Maid
Rev Becher
John Pigot
Mrs. Wylde
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SCENE 1
1806, Southwell - post ‘Wheel of Fortune’ party at Burgage Manor
JP: I think we can all agree - our theatricals were an outstanding success!
ALL: Huzzah!! (the rum punch is attacked)
JP: Indeed - we suffered mercifully few promptings or potato peltings from the audience
CB: I'm sure we shall be called upon every year - I shall play Lady Macbeth - the Macbeths and the Gordons are related you know
B: Och - mother - the Scottish play! we're cursed now - which is just as well, for I shall be in London anyway - taking my degrees in vice..
JP: ..and I shall be in Edinburgh at my medical exams
REV: Oh dear - I suspect myself and Mrs. Becher will be all that's left of our troupe a year hence
M(sighs): I too shall be venturing abroad
B: Whence would that be, Mary Ann?
M: Tuxford - I have a suitor who awaits
CB: Is this true Mary Ann? My, you have kept that close - who is this suitor?
M: He wishes to remain anonymous - for he must clear our path with the Duke of... oh! have I said too much??
CB: Ah me child! - Past and gone is the day when we hoped that your father would give you away!
REV: Is it Mr. Dinkleworth - the dentist of renown in Tuxford? - what is he to a Duke, Mary Ann?
M(waves hanky): Mr. Dinkleworth was but a blind - I must away to the churchyard to pray
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M - with somewhat of the melodrama about her - rushes off
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CB: The modest competency of her performances has quite gone to her head! (huffs and puffs) - it may be a well-known aberration of our degenerate days that Dukes wed ladies of the stage - but considering our performance closed only last eve - I suspect the Spinster of Southwell is attempting to deceive - but with whom?
B: Tsk! - the darling is she of her parents alone! The plague of her neighbours by day and by night - if we are honest, my fellow players - few in her presence could e’er find delight
JP: No maiden surpassed or perhaps ever can - in prudish demeanour the prim Mary Ann (laughs all round)
B: Perhaps you are right Mother - she's certainly up to mischief of a matrimonial bent - Pigot - look to it! You will soon be qualified - a worthy catch for an only daughter
JP: Me? - oh, goodness no Byron! (grimaces) - although on Miss Bristoe's mien her staymaker has bestowed his best grace - her mind stands confessed in the shape of her face - which is not promising (all nod)
REV: If you'll permit - my Lord - Byron, 'tis you are undoubtedly the most desirable target - no offence Pigot
B(laughs): Myself!! A singular creature - yea - and a dealer in rhyme!? - no very great praise of my youth can afford - my merit solely consists in being a Lord!
CB(is stern): We have said enough about the absent Lady - 'twould but serve us right if she drove onto the village green next week in a dainty blue carriage, with a ducal crest on its door and a Duke's promise of marriage
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SCENE 2
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A quiet lane in Southwell - B is strolling in the cool air - musing on future theatrical options
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B: “Doubt thou the stars are fire - Doubt that the sun doth move - Doubt truth to be a liar!" (lunges at tree with stick) - I will play The Dane one day - although my hair would be an issue - oh! a peruke - blonde - can't be doing with leggings - perchance a cassock of sorts - aye - and...
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Owl hoots by the graveyard
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B: Good eve little owl! Only ourselves of an evening so gloomy would venture to prowl
M: My Lord! You have surprised me - lying down here in the long sighing grass - by a tombstone
B(startled): Miss Bristoe! Madam, how do ye do (bows low)
M: My your shoulders are broad - er - (curtseys) - er - I hope we are not been seen - I fear Major Wylde is in about the Church, somewhere
B at a loss for both logic and discourse
B: Is he just? well, zounds - what a model of piety (shrugs shoulders) - er - would the weather were better, eh? - I fear ’twill be worse - such clouds are impending as darken the heaven, ’twill be rain, so - I wish you good even (raises hat)
M: Good even my Lord (curtseys, clenches jaw) - Woe and darn it! - if the long sighing grass can't lure - what shall I do? - no lover, no suitor is coming to woo - to be married I’m sure I do all that I can - nor care I to whom, so he is but a man - a Lord, preferably
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M watches B disappear with speed as the rain begins to pelt - heads home for supper
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Mrs. Bristoe: Mary Ann where have you been - you are soaked through almost to nakedness!
M: At the churchyard - I found his Lordship whistling down the lane (thinks) - though - I was with Major Wylde - at Vespers
MB: What of Mr. Dinkleworth? - of your reputation?
M: Lord above Mama! - I do, for his Lordship's sake, hope no-one saw!
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M does not sleep - for her plan is brilliant
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SCENE 3
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Morning - M puts on her red spotted gown and a platted straw bonnet
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Mrs. Bristoe: The morning is cloudy Mary Ann! - wear your Pattens! (watches M scurry onto the muddy road) - Ah! it is too late
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M makes a holy show of herself by falling into a puddle - the village workmen are nowhere to be seen - she drags herself out of the muck and mud and hobbles to the house of Major Wylde - Susan the maid answers the door
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S: Yes - who is it?
M: It is I, Mary Ann Bristoe - I have come to see Major Wylde
S: He aint home
M: Mrs. Wylde would do just as well
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S yells for said lady
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MW: Mary Ann! - the state of you! what on earth - do come in - Susan - fetch one of Major Wylde's dressing gowns
M: Mrs. Wylde - I am greatly enraged, for a dreadful report has all Southwell engaged - (disrobes) - a report which I never can pardon - no, not I - with vexation I really am ready to die!
MW: Sweet Jesus
M: And they say, Mrs. Wylde - but I hope ’tis not true - that this dreadful report has arisen from you!
MW: Hasten with your prattle Mary Ann - what are ye on about?
M: Mrs. Wylde - in a word, they say, that you say (weeps with limited theatrical aplomb) - that I’m to marry this terrible Lord! .. er the Lord Byron!
MW(laughs): What horse hockey! That Lord has a mighty aversion to having a wife - and has he but spoken to you but three times in his life?
M: Indeed I suspect he has formed some design, to proffer himself as a suitor of mine (sniffles into the Major's frogged sleeve) - at a party at his mother's last night his attentions increased - he stood by my chair for ten minutes at least!
MW: Not exactly a promise of marriage my dear - moreover I know nothing of such profferings - Mrs. Byron is quite my aversion - although the son is remarkably charming and docile, poor child (stands, and frowns)
M: Perchance the Major related to you our Lord's rendezvous in the churchyard?
MW: The Major was waylaid in the Vicarage last eve with an attack of sneezing and slobbering - what's more Mary Ann - you were only a smidgen more convincing in The Wheel of Fortune (sneers)
M: Do you contradict this shocking report?
MW: Go away with you - you floozy! Lying in the grass - in a graveyard - at Vespers - in the rain - in the presence not only of his Lordship but of Major Wylde - 'tis not the first attempt in this village to land that Lord!
M: Sorry - did you just call me a floozy?
MW: You are seven years older than the stout stripling! (softens) - now, now Mary Ann - if report of this amateurish attempt at entrapment doesn't get out (yells) Susan!! are you there?? (silence) - perchance Mr. Dinkleworth the renowned dentist will wed you yet
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M starts and yells - and crunches her straw bonnet in her hands
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MW: Mary Ann! It's Mr. Dinkleworth and Tuxford if your hope of marriage is to survive - after all, my dear girl, you are nearly twenty-five!
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END