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Ode on Venice

or

a Hundred - nay, a Thousand Kisses

 

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Cast

Lord Byron

Annabella, Lady Byron

John Cam Hobhouse

Scrope Berdmore Davies

Mrs. Fletcher

Fletcher

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​Scene 1

1815, an unaffordable mansion in Piccadilly

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B: Rain! Damned rain! - Oh my seasonal depression of sprits!! (kicks fire)Bell - let’s fly, in a rather large coach with fabulous accoutrements, to Venice!

A: Does it contain mathematical instruments?

B: The coach?! What!? Wife! - Venice! the Fairy Isle? the Greenest Isle of my Imagination!

A: Fairy Isle? The dull green ooze? The shipless sailors, crouching and crab-like, through their sapping streets? - that Venice?

B(somewhat cowed): Well, yes, but oh! the cheerful creatures, whose most sinful deeds are but the overbeating of the heart!

A: (snorts) No Byron, we will stay in and doodle

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Knock on door – Hobhouse, returned from France, is shown in

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B(leaping up): My dear H!

H(eyeing A): My dear Lady Byron (bows) - how delightful to see you

A: mmm

B: Brandy? (pours with haste) How was our little Pagod? How was your French? Did you bring me back any stationery?

H: oh fine - yes I did – a double. Your ladyship looks remarkably well

A(coughs)

H(knocking back the white Brandy): Must be off, I have notes, sir, copious notes

B(sighing): Yes, I wish you hadn’t come at all

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H exits, B slumps and draws A onto his lap

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B: You married me to make me happy didn’t you?

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A blushes, B kisses A to excess - both jump up when Fletcher enters room

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F: Mr. Davies to see you, My Lord

B(brightening): My dear Scrope!

SBD(eyeing A): My dear Lady Byron. How delightful to see you

A: mmm (with intent)

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Scrope stutters, and makes for the door

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B: Brandy, my dear facetious Scrope? Or a Boa Constrictor? ha - I’m sure I saw a serpent here somewhere (grinds teeth)

A: If you will pardon me, Byron, Mr. Davies appears to have lost his tennis shoes - perhaps we are detaining him

S (hastily towards the door): Tennis? - yes, wagers to fill, what what!

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Byron roasts his backside in front of the fire. Reaches for Lady Mary Wortley Montagu - commences to glare over the pages at Annabella, busy with her protractor.  As the Brandy and the Black Drop run low, the drawing room is suddenly spinning, as from the stroke of the enchanter's wand, and is festooned with motley crimson tapestries, squawking peacocks, and sumptuous, expectant sofas.

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SCENE 2

 

B: Oh Bell! Bless you for granting me my wish to be free of that tight little Island

A: Fletcher!

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Fletcher arrives, tucking his shirt in, wiping pie from his face

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A: My Lord has lost his reason

B: Fletcher, order my gondola!

A: Order a doctor

F: I obey only My Lord, My Lady. He has had that complaint many times before, with some Pearson’s he’ll recover quite quickly

A: What the hell are you talking about?

F: Gondola - oh, quite common amongst our young Gentlemen

B: Fletcher! My staunch Yeoman! Make sure to keep the women apart, they are TIGRESSES! Ha!

A (shredding her graph paper into bits): Irredeemable Devil!! Abominable tradesman!! Versifier!! Manager!! Wavering Vegetarian!! MURDERER!!

F: Adulterer

A: yes, ADULTERER!! Well done Fletcher

B: Dio Mio! (somewhat forlorn)

A: Cruel Blasphemer!! (weeps) It is no use (starts taking notes) - I can go on no longer Byron, also, we are still in Piccadilly, and I don’t speak Italian

B: Must we part? I promise many more embraces, and fine children - who we shall raise as Catholics. Really now, speak not thus! Both of us shall live, but every morrow will wake us from a widow’d bed

A: Bed! How dare you speak of beds! Sly deceiver! Mama always told me so. Be sure to write when Newstead is sold - Fletcher!!

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Fletcher enters, buttoning up trousers

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F: What?

A: Pack my things, tell your wife we’re leaving, perhaps in a fortnight/ten days - and remember the horrors I have endured. If you could write them down, dated, that would be great, thanks

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Byron is singing filthy Italian songs with the Bailiffs, inviting them to see his Casino

 

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Scene 3

 

Ten long days have passed

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B: Bell! Must you go? - All my faults perchance thou knowest, all my madness none can know

A: I nearly tripped over your dog - none shall know that precious piece of brutality - that’s all I can promise

B: Fletcher!!

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Fletcher appears, smoking a cigar

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F: Yes, my Lord

B(to Fletcher, distracted and panicking): Sear ‘d in heart, and lone, and blighted, more than this I scarce can die!

F: We’re out of Brandy, my Lord

B: I will be ruined, I shall be unfit for England! But ’tis done - all words are idle­ (stirs fire)

A: You declared yourself most miserable when I was yours, Ducky - I cannot and will not return. I shall devote myself to good works, available at a minimum net/gross ratio to myself,  and pray for world peace

B: Fare thee well Bell! Even though unforgiving, never ‘gainst thee shall my heart rebel (waves)

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Annabella and Mrs. Fletcher depart - Fletcher weeps

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B: Well, my Learnèd Man, our wives have left us, God knows why. We will have to battle our own way through the world!

F: I’ll pack

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END

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