B

Cast

Lord Byron

Harriet Maltby

Mrs. Wylde

John Pigot

Revrend Becher

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B

 

​​Scene 1

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1807, Southwell - Evening supper at  Reverend Becher's ​

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RB: Gentlemen, we appear to be somewhat outnumbered this eve

B:It would make a dog bite it's father

JP(whispers): Do you imagine Becher is attempting matchmaking success?

B: Good god - would you think so?

JP: The fair one - with a pensive brow - is certainly new

B: Oh - yes, I see her - quite charming Pigot - but what disgust to life hast she? At (assess expertly) but - 18 years?

MW: Oops - my Lord - am I forgiven from eating the prohibited wing of chicken? (giggles)

B: Mrs. Wylde your digestive issues I shall not advice - but tell me - what plan has Becher - re this evening - we have such an odd assortment at table

MW(airily): Oh - do you find it so? (looks around) - ah yes - Miss Harriet - she is new -of a good, old family my Lord, but shy as an anteater no sorry antelope - serious studious girl - immaculate and chaste - handy at fixing cobbles and clipping the nails of overasized canines

B: Quite another - yet, another - accomplished maiden - a not unusual object in Southwell

MW: An object not to be found in LOndon, my lord

B: No, not to be found
Change that discontented air;
Frowns become not one so fair.
'Tis not Love disturbs thy rest,
Love's a stranger to thy breast:
He, in dimpling smiles, appears,
Or mourns in sweetly timid tears;
Or bends the languid eyelid down,
But shuns the cold forbidding frown.
Then resume thy former fire,
Some will love, and all admire!
While that icy aspect chills us,
Nought but cool Indiff'rence thrills us.
Would'st thou wand'ring hearts beguile,
Smile, at least, or seem to smile;
Eyes like thine were never meant
To hide their orbs in dark restraint;
Spite of all thou fain wouldst say,
Still in truant beams they play.
Thy lips--but here my modest Muse
Her impulse chaste must needs refuse:
She blushes, curtsies, frowns,--in short She
Dreads lest the Subject should transport me;
And flying off, in search of Reason,
Brings Prudence back in proper season.
All I shall, therefore, say (whate'erb
I think, is neither here nor there,)
Is, that such lips, of looks endearing,
Were form'd for better things than sneering.
Of soothing compliments divested,
Advice at least's disinterested;
Such is my artless song to thee,
From all the flow of Flatt'ry free;
Counsel like mine is as a brother's,
My heart is given to some others;
That is to say, unskill'd to cozen,
It shares itself among a dozen.
Marion, adieu! oh, pr'ythee slight not
This warning, though it may delight not;
And, lest my precepts be displeasingc,
To those who think remonstrance teazing,
At once I'll tell thee our opinion,
Concerning Woman's soft Dominion:
Howe'er we gaze, with admiration,
On eyes of blue or lips carnation;
Howe'er the flowing locks attract us,
Howe'er those beauties may distract us;
Still fickle, we are prone to rove,
These cannot fix our souls to love;
It is not too severe a stricture,
To say they form a pretty picture;
But would'st thou see the secret chain,
Which binds us in your humble train,
To hail you Queens of all Creation,
Know, in a word, 'tis Animation.

Byron, January 10, 1807.

 

Footnote 1: Ý The MS. of this Poem is preserved at Newstead. "This was to Harriet Maltby, afterwards Mrs. Nichols, written upon her meeting Byron, and,

"being cold, silent, and reserved to him, by the advice of a Lady with whom she was staying; quite foreign to her usual manner, which was gay, lively, and full of flirtation."