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CAST
Teresa Guiccioli

Vincenzo Gamba

John Murray

William Gifford

Colonel Wildman

the White Lady

Nanny Smith

Augusta Leigh

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Scene 1

 

1832 - John Murray's parlour in Albemarle Street

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G: Stop fussing Murray! - here - let me help (fixes M's cravat) - good god man! - 'tis the young lady herself who braves odium by landing on our shores so moral - 'tis an act of Christian charity to receive such a woman without leave - or a quarrel

M: “Such a woman"! - 'twas such a woman, Gifford, who kept his Lordship's health in suspense - in the lethal infectious diseases sense (dabs eyes at portrait) - look to it! - and remember your manners - Italian customs are not as warm as our own

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G grumbles, M's butler Jimmy announces the Italians

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J: The Contess Gucciloilo and her brother Vincent for you, Mr. Murray

M: er , yes - thank you Jimmy

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TG and VG walk in - sharp intakes of breath are drawn by the doughty British gentlemen

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M: You are most welcome my dear Contessa (kisses hand) - and Vincent, is it?

VG: Vincenzo, an understandable error, my esteemed Sir - you are indeed most gracious to receive us in your wonderful home/office (bows)

M: Why - not at all - may I introduce Mr. Gifford..

TG: Ah dio! Milord's ‘ literary father', si? (rushes forward) - oh, how very much he desired your good opinion Signore Gifford - one of the very few - si, Vincenzo? - how he longed to get drunk with you!

VG: Along with yourself Mr. Moray - of course

TG: Si, and Mr. Walter Scott

VG: In truth - good gentlemen - how very homesick he was for his English friends and their good advices

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Murray and Gifford are now sobbing hysterically

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TG: We shall weep no more, gentlemen, but praise him as we must (sees portrait) - ah sweet mother of divine! (TG now also requires handkerchiefs)

M: Jimmy! - fetch some absorbent objects - quick as you can (recovers) - now, Contessa, I am most honoured to receive you and am more than delighted to be your go-between re. important people etc. in his late Lordship's life

TG: How very kind and hospitable you are, dear Murray - to my reason for encroaching upon your - pittoresco? - isle - I should very much like to discuss some miniscule errors in Mr. Moore's biography of milord - merely a few tiny corrections vis-à-vis himself, myself, the Gamba family entire, Platonism, la puttana Geltruda, the nature of papal decrees and whatnot

M: I am at your service, Contessa - though Mr. Moore's biography has been very well received, it can always be improved upon (thinks) - a note of caution, my dear, another Lady attempted same - yet remains much aggrieved (M&G guffaw) - however, as you were much longer acquainted with his Lordship, I can assure you of my earnest attention

​TG(curtseys quite low): I expected no less from our dear Byron's most loyal amici (takes their hands) - how very fortunate he was to have you - both - to edit his poesy with wit and taste, to keep his froward genius chaste, and also to provide him with toothpaste

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M & G are quivering wrecks

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VG: Addio, our Inglese friends - we are to Newstead - castle of the Byron monks - may we return our visit before we leave your fair isle?

M: I should be gravely insulted..

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VG reaches inside his breast pocket, TG gasps

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M: ...if you did not, of course!

VG(bows): Very well - esteemed gentlemen - before too long it is!

M: Before too long, Signore and Conte..

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TG pecks M & G on their now sweaty cheeks

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TG: Addio - go on and prosper (smiles and shakes out luminous Titian-y curls) - 'til we meet again (departs)

M & G : Ah, dio!!

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Scene 2

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Newstead Abbey - home to a new Abbot and the saviour of Byron real estate - Colonel Wildman

 

W: Firstly, Nanny Smith - I would much appreciate you being with me to receive the Contessa and her brother - you retain much which will be of interest to her re. his formative years - but go easy on the teenaged romances - the Italians are much prone to jealousy

N: I will Colonel - luckily most of the Belles are somewhat dead - e'en Mrs. Musters is looking peaky

W: Better not to take any chances - and mention Miss Pigot but sparingly - vital though she be to his Lordship's poetical evolution

N: Aye - I will - thanks be to god Joe Murray is dead - (whispers) - a married Italian lady would not receive that old man's absolution!

W: Indeed (laughs) - harken, Nanny, I hear them approach!

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The noble Italians enter the great hall at Newstead

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W(bows): Contessa - Signore Vincenzo - you are most very welcome

TG: How very good of you to entertain us - esteemed Colonnello - a greater friend milord never had! To restore and preserve the house of his heart! If only there was a little Byron ragazza for you to marry, si? - how complete would that deal be? 

W: Charmant! - (bows, is momentarily blinded by the generalised voluptuous warmth of the Contessa) - if I may - by return of compliment - observe how very fortunate ‘ milord' was to have had enjoyed such a strenuous riot of Platonism with yourself - er - (to VG) - er, excuse me - indeed - your entire family

VG: 'Tis true - he was as good as a Gamba 'ere he left for Greece - along with our poor brother Pietro ( T&V bless themselves)

 N: If it please - we have a chapel down yonder - if it be prayers ye are wanting 

TG: Non importa, venerable one - we pray on the spot with inexplicable hand gestures - perfect for travelling (pats N's head) - pronto, to the Abbey, my amici! Dio! - does it not just reek of milord's hatred of company, Vincenzo?

VG: I can imagine him in that library yonder - flinging down books - sighing for a blue Italian sky and a soupçon of revolutionary turmoils 

W: Nanny Smith will show you to your quarters - then, perhaps, we shall take a turn in yon garden and admire the gargoyles?

TG: Excellento - I shall - you understand - be occupying milords bedroom - as was

W: Naturally, Contessa - Nanny has laid out a selection of correspondence from once-obsessed females for your entertainment (bows)

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As evening falls, W shows off the fantastical ornamental forts​

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​VG: Ah! The scene of many a battle, no, Colonel? - with whom were the blessèd monks at war?

W: None at all, Vincenzo - they were built but for sports - those little forts (grimaces) - the fate of the Byrons at Newstead was foretold by such folly - ah yet! at least the abbey withstood the play-cannon's volley

TG: What larks! - what lakes - by the Virgin! (gasps at landscaping) - what parks! (jumps) - by all the saints - ahhh!! what is that there - for gods sakes??!

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A prancing white light is seen around Byron's Oak

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W: Do not be afraid, friends - 'tis but a ghost - yclept The White Lady - a poor deaf and mute girl in love with his Lordship - didn't she once wander around Newstead to be near his mighty soul! - she has since gone to her maker, God rest her - although - as you can see - she still fancies the odd moonlit stroll

TG: In love?! When and where (looks towards grotto) did she love him?! una maledizione su di lei!(flourishes traditional Tuscan curse)

VG: Teresa!! The lady is dead already - making your curse somewhat redundant -  take that back, immediatamente!(T sulks, reverses curse) - apologies Colonel, questo è amore, no?

W: Si, my friend (shrugs)

TG: Apologies - anyway - (flutters) - perchance, are you acquainted with Mrs. Mustard? I believe milord knew her but in passing during his youth, non?

W: Mrs. Musters (frowns) - is not well, she is much bedraggled with ten children and an incontinent fox-hunting spouse - verily, though, not much reduced in beauty (T starts, furiously) - not that she ever had much, heh (to self: oons!)

TG(is satisfied): I see -(brushes non-existent insect from chest) - mio Colonnello - Mr. Morray mentioned a Miss Pigot - do you know her ? (swishes hand) - 'tis of no importance, pray - does she still live?

VG: Teresa!!

W: Why, yes - and as fine a lady, sans coronet, as you ever met, Contessa - the Pigot family were great friends to the young Lord - purely upon the Platonic system, you understand?

TG(is satisfied): This is as well - for her - now, to my most urgent request- I have a desire to meet with Mr. Moore - milord oft told me he resides somewhere in these parts - do you know him?

W: Ah, Mr. Moore! - 'tis almost impossible to pin him down for two minutes together - so busy is he hustling for poesy and patronage

TG: I met the little uomo Irlandese once in Venice while doing milords copying - under the supervision of Father Spoonelli, naturalmente - how very, very fond Byron was of him - but I must correct his biography as a matter of family honour

W(snorts): Yes, well - that whopper has been tried already - to the great detriment of the Lady and the merriment of her detractors! 

TG: Just so? hmm - I may just - as milord so often used to say - cool my boots (flutters eyelashes) - now, do tell why that stationary satyr in yon walk is staring intently at me?

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W leads his guests sharply toward the ornamental fish pond

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Scene 3

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The Italians return to London - T is to visit Augusta

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VG: Calma, my dear Teresa! - the English are not yet entirely a nation of shopkeepers - remnants of a morally unregulated aristocracy still survive - against our fears! (both bless themselves) - a sister - even a half one - of Byron's will not judge you harshly for tackling his outpourings for a solid four years

TG: It must be so - you wait in the carriage - I shall go alone (VG reaches inside his breast pocket) - Vincenzo! this is England - we do not stab here!

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A greets T in her rooms in St. James' Palace - the ladies curtsey

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A: Contessa - will you take tea?

T: Tea?
A: Yes, tea. A warm refreshing liquid made from the dried leaves of various plants 

T: You have no cappuccino?

A: I'm afraid you've lost me - Contessa

T: 'Tis of little matter - Madame - how very pleasant it is to meet you - milord Byron told me so much about your daughter Georgina

A: Indeed - it does not surprise me - how he did love simple females

T: In family members, that certainly seems to have been the case - in Italy, however, the grand donnas of the literary salons oft remarked 'twas but exclusively intellectual females he honoured to embrace

A: Would you care for apple cake? I can see you have an excessive fondness for the necessities of an ample afternoon repast

T: And how extravagantly milord adored the result of my appetites - indeed - Madame - his own and my own were vast

A(opens box): I have kept some trinkets - hair, letters etc. - that were of very minor importance in his life - I naturally assumed they should go to you, Contessa

T: You are most gracious - but I am suffused with many holy relics of milord - including bits of his sunburnt skin - you keep what he left you - perhaps - god, forbid!! - should you need to raise funds in the future - you could sell them on the open market

A: If you would, my dear, I must attend the Queen at this hour

T(rises): Of course, I understand how impatient Germans can be (ties bonnet) - oh! - not to detain your servitude at court - but, please - do pass on my most fond regards to Fletcher, I understand milord entrusted his most devoted servant to your care and support

A: Anon, my dear Mrs. Guiccioli

T: Anon, my dear Mrs. Leigh

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T and VG return to Murray's

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M: Welcome on your return, Signore Gamba - and (blushes) - Contessa Guiccioli

T: Dio mio, gentlemen- how well you do look! so overwhelmed was I at our first meeting (fan is delicately produced) - that your appearances went beyond my notice! Mr. Gifford - your fine - somewhat lopsided - black locks and very tight trowsers - and Mr. Morray! - such a luminous cheek! such a beau! (whispers) - why, in Italy, women use the white of an egg to achieve such a glow!

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M & G bow - quite to the ground

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M: I trust your visit to Newstead was a success - and that you met with the amiable Mr. Moore?

TG: No need - I would perchance be - ah - un altro completo idiota, si? - an idiot? - to admonish Mr. Moore publicly (retrieves dainty MS from reticule) - my dear Mr. Murray - I have collected some reminiscences etc. of milord to make my own book (sighs) - who knew better his piety? - his denial of the pleasures of the flesh? (shrugs bare shoulders) - anyways - after our most pleasant sojourn on your island - 'twould appear to me that his countrywomen - living kin (to self: pfft - the bimbo) - dead or dying Belles - or an ammiratrice in limbo...

VG: Teresa!!

TG: ...did not know my milord long enough to witness the transformation which our moral, peaceable Italian way of life produced in him - perhaps you would have an interest in reading it, no?

M(face cracks): Er, what?! what? - I should prefer first refusal - first reading - in fact, I should most especially insist!

TG: Very well - and for the frontispiece - Madame Mimms has a portrait she made of me in the shape of a Magdalene - they say it is very resembling - and, pendant, one of milord as St. Augustine

M: St. Augustine? hah - er- well, 'twas said he became a black cassock remarkably well (G drops jaw) - we trust you both shall visit our soggy shores again, Contessa - our bluestockinged ladies - Holland, Blessington and Charlemont - have expressed a marked disappointment in not having had the opportunity of giving you the once-over

TG: We shall, my friend - I too regret not having met with one English lady during my stay!

VG: Teresa!!

TG: Signori - you both must visit us in Ravenna, for I have many sisters (M & G start) - now gentlemen, you may keep my book - although (hesitates) - will little Moore be offended? 

M: Humph! - at present, Moore is frantically inserting creditable rhymes into the mouths of Sultans (arranges TG's shawl and tippet) - as to destroying memoirs (glares at G) he has no right to offence - after his disgrace of '24, that microscopic Irishman remains in the throes of penitence! (bows) 

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The noble Italians depart, G's silk buttons break free, M accidentally stirs fire with TG's ‘ Lord Byron's Prayers for London Society Ladies of Note: replete with Illustrated Examples which Present as Proof that Such are Necessary' - Vol. 1/28 - A to B, 700 pages ' 

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