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Cast

Lord Byron

JC Hohouse

Fletcher

Harriette, Amy & Fanny Wilson

Lady Caroline Lamb

 

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Scene 1

 

London 1814 - sisters Harriette, Amy and Fanny - 'Fashionable Impures' - prepare for the masque

 

HW: How I love a masquerade -  a female can never enjoy the same liberty anywhere else

A: Then why must we dress as boys? - pages, yet - not even gentlemen!

HW: 'Twas the only way I could beg tickets - I made a promise to the Lord Hertford - otherwise, may - we'd be sitting home all night quizzing Heroditus, as I promised Wellington I would

F: But an Austrian peasant-boy! 

HW: Would you both shush! Hertford had them made up by Stultz of Clifford Street, tailor to the Prince Regent and Beau Brummell

A: But an Italian peasant-boy!

HW: Amy - stop with your whinging - you have the finest legs in London - you shall attract a Duke if you display them correctly - in truth his Lordship has been good enough to you a goodly amount of trade! (drags girls to mirror) - look now (holds garments to window) black satin small-clothes, a la Cossaque

F: Ooh! I shall fasten that tight at the knee, with a smart bow an wear fine, black, transparent silk stockings, black satin shoes

A: Ah! this one's mine - (ferrets away garment) a bright blue, rich silk jacket without sleeves, silver bell-buttons, and a black hat, with a red silk band and bow - on no coarse old libertine my kisses shall I bestow
HW:  Amy! - you shall lead us all astray - again! - in quest of adventure For me - I shall wear red silk pantaloons, with a black satin jacket, so very advantageous to my shape - being high upon the breast - stockings of fine blue silk, my hat was small fits me to a hair, tied with a rich pea-green satin ribbon

A: My hair shall fall over my neck and face in a profusion of careless ringlets

 

The three exceedingly correct sisters admire themselves immensely in the mirror until the clock strikes five

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​Scene 2

 

​​The Albany, Byron's deluxe pad

 

B: Oh, my head - how it aches! - the horrors of digestion! I wonder how Buonaparte’s dinner agrees with him?

H: In the name of St . Francis and his wife of Snow! You shall become a loup garou (B, inexpert in the French language, frowns) - a solitary hobgoblin

B: Humph! - what have I do with frittering away my time among dowagers and unmarried girls? (chooses the evening's cigars) - now, if it advanced any serious affair, it were some excuse - but, with the unmarried, it is a hazardous speculation - and tiresome enough - heigho Hobby - I shall remain in mine island with my little sensual comforts about me - and yawn up something oriental for Murray

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H ponders - and, knowing his friend well, is inspired

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H: Fletcher?
F: Yes, Mr. Hobhouse

H: His Lordship's trunk - the one which just came over from Bennet Street - where is it?

F: That is unopened as yet - I believe a pack of nesting rodents - a Newstead breed beloved by his lordship - resides in it yet

H(grimaces, and whispers): Show me to it

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F and H leave Byron to his cigars, ​sturgeon, and champagne - moments pass when H makes a spectacular entrance to the salon

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B(roaring): By all the Hindoo saints! Why, Hobby - how well you look in my magnifique Albanian ensemble! (circles said H) - my, my - you have quite the ankles for the skirt, your peruke is well-covered by my turban - is it not freeing to be bereft of trowers and small clothes? - quite reminds one of one's Highland boyhood - now, to what does my costume owe the honour of draping your fair bodye? 

H: There is a masque at Wattiers tonight, Byron - all of the Ton will be there - all top-tier Cyrpians, in honour of peace between Great Britain and France - you must have an invitation?

B: That I do -  mmm - a masque?

H: You shall not converse of mingle more than you desire

B: And how will that be possible

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H produces costume

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H: With the hood up - you will be completely in disguise

B: Brilliant Hobby! The Abbot of Newstead returns -I shall haunt Wattiers like the Black Friar - frighten the poor dears back to their mamas - but wait - this is too big

F: Don't mind that your Lordship - there's another one from Mr. Matthews' time - when he was the smaller man

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B admires himself in the black Augustinian cassock, finds the hood does indeed cover his face - and is convinced stepping out of his island is a sound move

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B: Come - I will go out of doors, and see what the fog will do for me

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​Scene 3

 

Wattiers' is hopping - H & B find a discreet nook for observing - unsuccessfully 

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A: Eeeek! 'tis Lord Byron!! - Fanny, Harriette - look - the Augustinian - is he not beautiful?

F(exhales with force): That beautiful pale face - is he seeking to hide in that hood?

HW(with restraint): Lord Byron? - we are correspondents, d'ye know? - he has oft written to solicit the honour of  my acquaintance, though I have long been sentimentally in love - perhaps I shall seize this opportunity to honour him

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Amy reddens and departs when a ghostly glimmer in green passes in front of the sisters, glares and moves on

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C: Why, Mr. Hobhouse - I had no idea you'd be here

H(is agape): Lady Caroline!

C: Is Byron here

H(is hesitant): He is much occupied discussing points of Platonism in the back ball-room - I do anticipate a scene Lady Caroline?

C: Pfft - d'ye know how many pairs of green silk stockings I'm wearing? - (B appears) - good eve (twirls and flashes stockings)

B: Caroline! talk of small clothes in company! - these very uncalled for, and unnecessary gesticulations hold your tunic down, and walk as you've been taught

C: I'm an unreformable sinner, amn't I, Brother Byron? (spins awkwardly to imitate a puff os smoke, hoists her hose and trips away)

B: Damn you Hobby! - you assured me of invisibly - instead I have the three Cyprian sisters gawping, varied Barque of Frailty crashing into me the Angus circling and a convocation of dowagers descending! Good god, scolding like her grandfather 

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B sulks to the back room - the sisters waltz and quadrille with the ladies and gentlemen in the room - HW approaches Hobby

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HW: Mr. Hobhouse - I am well acquainted with your friend Scropes Davies, yes? He suggested lord Byron should very much appreciate my company, if you could do the honours

H: I shall ask - if you should wait here - his lordship is packing Lady Caroline into a carriage I have had quite enough of this

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B calls for a footman a call to the Albany

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​Scene 4

 

The back ballroom

 

HW(curseys): It has been such a vex - my lord -  merely to see a man, with only the given number of legs, arms, fingers, &c., would, you must admit, be madness in a girl like myself, surrounded by humble admirers who are ever ready to travel any distance for the honour of kissing the tip of her little finger; but, if you can prove to me that you are one bit better than any man who may be ready to attend my bidding 

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The abbot is silent

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HW: Do you wish to leave me now, then?
B: Yes
HW: He speaks! Thank you for being candid, and God bless you, dear Lord Byron (attempts to lift hood - raises up mask, attempts to kiss B's hand) - I find you quite uninteresting - not to say a disappointment
B(mumbles): Ah! Amuse toi, bien, lass! - (gives HW a smacker, which sends her off in a stagger)

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Meanwhile, back at the Albany, Hobby finds the door open

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H: Fletcher? Fletcher?

B(displeased): be damned Hobby! What are you doing here - why are you not at the masque? How did you cope with the traffic?

H: Byron - er - what? the door was open - how?

B: I shall explain (a figure dressed as a nun emerges from the bedchamber) - Amy - sweet girl - I shall return momentarily

H: What?
B: Enterprising lady what? you see, I had..

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The door crashes off its hinges - a stout Augustinian monk enters

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H: Fletcher!

F: You didn't tell me I'd have to kiss Miss Harriette, my lord - what if my Sally hears?

A: Harriette! why is your valet kissing my sister?

B: I can explain everyth..

H: Why is that curtain convulsing (opens) - Lady Caroline!

 

 

 

 

B: Pfft - my head! I believe it was given me to ache with

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​End

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