The Ruling Class (Modern Plays)

by Peter Barnes

  Tucker appears in doorway upstage centre with two solid, middle-aged women in grotesque hats. Claire glares angrily at a horrified Dinsdale.

  Tucker Mrs Piggot-Jones – Mrs Treadwell.

  Earl of Gurney (singing at newcomers) . . . ‘You can pass many a class whether you’re dumb or wise. If you all answer the call, when your professor cries . . . ’

  Suddenly, despite themselves, Mrs Piggot-Jones, Mrs Treadwell and Tucker sweep irresistibly downstage with the Earl, in an all-singing, all-dancing chorus line.

  Earl of Gurney / Women / Tucker (singing) ‘Everybody down on the heels, up on the toes, stay after school, learn how it goes: Everybody do the Varsity . . . Everybody do the Varsity . . . Everybody do the Varsity Drag!’

  They finish in line downstage, arms outstretched to the audience, puzzled.

  Earl of Gurney (without pause) Welcome, ladies. I’m the new Lord.

  Mrs Treadwell, a dumpy woman in straw hat decorated with wax fruit, gives a dazed smile, while the boney Mrs Piggot-Jones, in tweeds and trilby, lets out a bewildered grunt. Clutching his head, Tucker weaves his way out.

  Earl of Gurney You know Lady Claire and my cousin Dinsdale?

  Dinsdale Gurney This is a surprise. Delightful though, delightful.

  Mrs Treadwell (recovering her natural obsequiousness) Dear Mr Dinsdale, do forgive us, but we’ve come to try and persuade His Lordship to open our little church fête. Do say yes, My Lord.

  Earl of Gurney I always say yes, yes, whatever the question.

  Mrs Treadwell (delighted) Your Lordship.

  Mrs Piggot-Jones Splendid!

  Claire Now ladies, if you’ll excuse us, we have a lot to do.

  Earl of Gurney Stay for tea. (To Mrs Treadwell.) You be mother.

  Gurgles of delight from the two women. While Mrs Treadwell pours, Dinsdale looks uncertain, and Claire watches with increasing tension.

  Claire (low) Dinsdale, see if your father’s come back.

  Dinsdale hurries out.

  Earl of Gurney Now ladies, tell me my part in this gala opening. Do I charm bracelets, swing lead, break wind, pass water?

  Mrs Treadwell No, you make a speech.

  Earl of Gurney On what text, Mother Superior?

  Mrs Piggot-Jones We leave that to the speaker. It can be any topic of general interest. Hanging, Immigration, the Stranglehold of the Unions. Anything . . .

  Mrs Treadwell So long as it isn’t political.

  Earl of Gurney Nat-ur-ally.

  Mrs Piggot-Jones As the fête is in aid of the British Legion I’ve always felt the speeches should be something about Britain and our way of life.

  Earl of Gurney (off-handed) Britain is an imaginary island off the continent of Europe, covering 93,982 square miles, with a population of over 52 million, lying in a westerly wind belt. A flyblown speck in the North Sea, a country of cosmic unimportance in my sight. (Sadly at them.) You can’t kick the natives in the back streets of Calcutta any more.

  Mrs Treadwell (giggling) He’s joking again. Aren’t you, My Lord?

  Mrs Piggot-Jones I am not laughing, Pamela. I’m afraid we can’t stay here, Lady Claire.

  Claire Then for Christ’s sake, go!

  Earl of Gurney Please don’t go for my sake.

  He casually takes a bunch of imitation wax grapes from Mrs Treadwell’s hat and starts eating them.

  Earl of Gurney Hmm, delicious. Home-grown?

  Mrs Treadwell No, I bought them, I mean . . .

  Earl of Gurney I’ve decided to begin my second ministry at your gathering. Last time I preached the Word in Holy Galilee I spoke in parables. MISTAKE. Now I must speak plain. (Crosses hands on chest.) God is love.

  Mrs Treadwell (frightened) Love?

  Earl of Gurney God is love as water is wet as jade is green as bread is life so God is love.

  Mrs Treadwell and Mrs Piggot Jones begin to back towards the door upstage centre. Dinsdale is heard calling off beyond the French windows.

  Earl of Gurney (advancing after them) Mrs Pamela Treadwell, can you love? Can your blood bubble, flesh melt, thighs twitch, heart burst for love?

  Mrs Treadwell Your Lordship, I’m a married woman.

  Earl of Gurney Sexual perversion is no sin.

  Dinsdale Gurney (voice off) I say, have you seen my father?

  Earl of Gurney (advancing) Remember the commandment I gave you, love one another as I loved you.

  Mrs Piggot-Jones (retreating) Stay back! My husband is a Master of Hounds!

  Earl of Gurney Fill your hearts, let your eyes sparkle, your soul dance. Be bird-happy!

  Mrs Piggot-Jones and Mrs Treadwell Ahh!

  Their nerve breaks. They turn and plunge for the door, but are frozen in mid-flight as they see the cross for the fast time.

  Mrs Piggot-Jones What is it?

  Earl of Gurney A Watusi walking-stick! Big people the Watusis. Listen, ladies.

  But with cries of fear the two women rush upstage centre. Sir Charles appears in the doorway and is flattened by them as they charge out into the passage followed by the Earl, who is heard calling:

  Earl of Gurney (voice off) Don’t be frightened. Hear the word of the Lord.

  Sir Charles (picking himself up) Treadwell . . . Piggot . . . What the blazes are they doing here? Great Scott, who’s the idiot responsible?

  Dinsdale Gurney (voice off) I say, I say, have you seen my father?

  Claire gestures expressively.

  Sir Charles Oh. Dinsdale.

  Claire You’ll have to do something about that boy.

  Sir Charles He’ll soon be off our hands. Old Barrington-Cochran’s on his last legs. That means a by-election.

  Claire Dinsdale’s such a fool.

  Sir Charles One time thought of bringing him into the business, but it’s too risky. Can’t have Dinsdale messing about with money. He’s proved disappointing.

  Dinsdale re-enters.

  Dinsdale Gurney Oh, there you are.

  Claire What did Sir Humphrey say?

  Sir Charles Gave me a lot o’ expensive legal fal-de-roll. As it stands, there’s no chance of breaking the will. Only one possible solution. A male heir.

  Claire A what?

  Sir Charles If Jack had a son, Sir Humphrey says we could have him certified quietly, because everything could then pass to the heir. We’d administer the estate till the boy came of age. That way everything’d remain in the family.

  Claire (sarcastically) Oh, brilliant. A small point, but before he can have an heir, our lunatic nephew has to be married.

  Sir Charles Exactly. And the sooner the better!

  The Earl enters upstage centre, playing a flute.

  Earl of Gurney Married?

  Sir Charles Yes, J.C., you should take a wife.

  Earl of Gurney Who from?

  Claire I’m sure we’ll be able to find you a suitable young goddess.

  Sir Charles Most appropriate, eh-eh?

  They chuckle to themselves.

  Earl of Gurney But I can’t marry a second time.

  They immediately stop chuckling.

  Sir Charles A second . . .

  Claire (sceptically) Second wife? You believe you’re already married?

  Earl of Gurney On August 28th in the year of me, 1961.

  Sir Charles looks across doubtfully at Claire, who shakes her head.

  Earl of Gurney Somerset House records will confirm. Father wanted it kept secret for some reason.

  He walks away to wings right playing the ‘Drinking Song’ from La Traviata on the flute.

  Sir Charles This wife of yours? What’s her name?

  Earl of Gurney Marguerite Gautier.

  Sir Charles French.

  Dinsdale Gurney (slowly) Marguerite Gautier? . . . Gautier? . . . I say, isn’t that the ‘Lady of the Camelias’?

  Earl of Gurney You know her too? Wonderful!

  He exits playing the aria. Dinsdale and Sir Charles exchange looks and rush after him. Blackout.

  Scene Seven<
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  Spot up on white screen lowered downstage left to show Claire and Dr Herder talking.

  Dr Herder Of course there’s no question of marriage. He has no wife, but he believes he has, which is the same thing.

  Claire Why did he pick on Marguerite Gautier?

  Dr Herder Another martyr for love. His delusions are of a piece. Marguerite is the only person he trusts.

  Claire Why does he keep on about love?

  Dr Herder Because he hasn’t had any. Or wasn’t shown any, which is just as bad. He wants us all to love goodness. To love goodness is to love God, to love God is to love the 14th Earl of Gurney.

  Claire That’s very clever. Is it the truth?

  Dr Herder Lady Claire, don’t come to me for the truth, only explanations.

  Claire Does any of his talk mean anything?

  Dr Herder To him, yes. Your nephew suffers from the delusion that the world we live in is based on the fact that God is love.

  Claire Can’t he see what the world’s really like?

  Dr Herder No. But he will, when he’s cured.

  Claire Can I ask one more question?

  Dr Herder If it’s as revealing as the others.

  Claire Why does he hate being called Jack?

  Dr Herder Because it’s his real name. Naturally he rejects it violently. If he ever answers to the name of Jack, he’ll be on the road to sanity.

  Claire How are my questions revealing?

  Dr Herder The first one you asked me was about love.

  White screen taken up and lights up as they move into the drawing room of Gurney Manor where Tucker is pouring drinks.

  Claire This is our own Tucker, Dr Herder. He’s been with the family for over forty years.

  Tucker Man and snivelling boy, sir.

  Dr Herder Really. How do you find the new Earl, Tucker?

  Tucker By sniffing. He’s a Gurney, sir. A real Gurney.

  Dr Herder You don’t find him odd?

  Tucker Odd? Soda, sir?

  Dr Herder Please. Yes, odd. Peculiar.

  Tucker Oh, you mean nutty. Yes, he’s a nut-case all right, but then so are most of these titled flea-bags. Rich nobs and privileged arseholes can afford to be bonkers. Living in a dream world, aren’t they, sir? Don’t know what time o’ day it is. Life’s made too easy for ’em. Don’t have to earn a living so they can do just what they want to. Most of us’d look pretty cracked if we went round doing just what we wanted to, eh, sir?

  Dr Herder Yes. I suppose . . .

  Claire The late Earl left Tucker twenty thousand pounds. Since then he’s been very outspoken.

  Tucker hands a drink to Dr Herder and another to Claire.

  Claire Not for me, Tucker.

  Tucker Waste not want not. (He drinks.) Doctor, you might take a look at my back. The ol’ lumbago’s acting up again.

  Sir Charles and Dinsdale enter, arguing with the Earl of Gurney.

  Dinsdale Gurney (gesturing with the book) But I’ve shown you it’s in here. The Lady of the Camelias by Alexandre Dumas. Camille. The opera by Verdi, La Traviata. Same woman. A figure of romance.

  Earl of Gurney My dear chap, you prove my point ipso facto, a divine figure of romance. Paul, what a pleasant surprise.

  Dr Herder How are you?

  Earl of Gurney In the middle of a debate on the existence of my wife Marguerite. With passions roused and intellects sharpened, pray continue, Dinsdale Gurney.

  Sir Charles I give up. You did say it’d be impossible to convince him, doctor.

  Dr Herder Impossible. But you can try.

  Claire takes the book from Dinsdale, opens it and shows it to the Earl.

  Claire Look. It’s a play, The Lady of the Camelias. Fiction.

  Earl of Gurney (taking book) Ah, yes, a biography of my Marguerite – affectionately known as La Dame aux Camelias. (Sternly.) Dinsdale, this book looks tired from over-reading. You should let it out more.

  Claire You aren’t married. The woman doesn’t exist.

  Earl of Gurney Come, come, you exaggerate unduly. (Makes circular movement with right hand.) You’ll be saying I’m not God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost next.

  Claire You’re not! God wouldn’t be so ridiculous waving his arms like a maniac dressed in a white suit and carnation.

  Earl of Gurney The prophet Ezekiel lay three hundred days on his left side and forty days on his right. He cut his hair and divided it into three parts. The first part he burnt, the second he chopped into pieces, the third he scattered into the wind. Ridiculous, mad, certifiable. It was all merely a sign of something more important. God teaches by signs as well as words.

  Dr Herder (with satisfaction) He can defend his beliefs with great skill.

  Dinsdale Gurney All right, if you’re God, reveal your Godhead.

  The Earl immediately starts to unzip his flies.

  Dinsdale Gurney No, no. A miracle. Show us a miracle.

  Earl of Gurney A miracle. (Holds out his hand.) Here’s a miracle.

  Dinsdale Gurney Where?

  Earl of Gurney This hand. This city network of tissues, nerves, muscles, ligaments, carpals, metacarpals and phalanges. And what about the hairy-nosed wombat?

  Dinsdale Gurney Not that sort. A miracle like the making of loaves and fishes.

  Earl of Gurney Oh, those. You see ten billion million miracles a day, yet you want your conjuring tricks, your pretty flim-flams, from the incense-burners. I can’t raise Lazarus again, he’s decomposed, so bring me that table.

  Claire What are you going to do?

  Earl of Gurney A grade-one Galilee miracle.

  Claire starts to say something but Dr Herder gestures. He nods to Dinsdale, who drags the coffee table to stage centre, and steps back uncertainly. They are all roughly grouped behind it.

  Earl of Gurney Instead of raising Laz, I’ll raise yon table.

  Sir Charles That table?

  Earl of Gurney Ten feet. Not by mirrors or crippled midgets behind black curtains, but by the power of love.

  Claire Just love?

  Earl of Gurney It moves mountains, and makes the puny weed split the rock. Look.

  All eyes now sceptically on the table. The Earl stretches out his hands, palms upwards. As he slowly starts to raise them, lights imperceptibly begin to dim.

  Believe in me, in love, in loving goodness, raise yourself up . . . Rise, up, up. See, see . . . slowly, slowly. One foot, two feet, three, four . . . slowly up . . . five, six, seven . . . rise, rise up . . . Eight, nine, ten. (His arms are now above his head.) There! The table floats ten feet in space.

  Tucker (pointing up excitedly) Ahhh! Look, I see it! Up there! (He lurches forward, grasping a half-empty whisky decanter.) Sh-miracle, sh-miracle, halleluja sh-miracle. Praise the Lord and pass t’ammunition.

  Sir Charles Drunken lout!

  Tucker collapses in a stupor in a chair. The spell is broken, Claire

  crosses angrily to the table.

  Claire It didn’t rise. (Raps it.) Here it is.

  Earl of Gurney (making circle with hand) Tucker saw, believed, yeees.

  Claire Did you sec it, Doctor?

  Dr Herder No.

  Sir Charles Course not. Damned rot.

  Earl of Gurney (shakes his head) Into any platinum pressure-cooker, grrh grrhh shurhh . . .

  Claire There’s no miracle. No wife. She doesn’t exist. She’s fiction. Part of a play. An opera. She’s not flesh and blood. Not real.

  Earl of Gurney (flapping hands, disturbed) Gross grec crull craaah . . .

  Dr Herder Shhh. Listen.

  From the corridor beyond the darkened room comes the sound of a woman singing ‘Go diam fie – ga-ca-e-ra-pi-do – e il gan dio dell ’a-mo-re . . . ’ It grows louder. We can hear the rustle of crinoline. They turn towards the doorway, upstage centre. The Lady of the Camelias stands there, in a spot, carrying a camelia and singing the ‘Drinking Song’ from La Traviata.

  La Dame aux Camelias (singing) ‘Eun fior che na – see e muo – re, ne, piu
si puv go-der – Go-diam c-in-vi-ta, c’in-vi-taun, fervi do-ac-cen-to-la-sin-gheer . . . ’

  Earl of Gurney Marguerite!

  Blackout.

  Scene Eight

  Lights up on the drawing room of Gurney Manor where Claire and Sir Charles are arguing with measured ferocity.

  Claire How dare you bring that woman here?

  Sir Charles You should be grateful to Miss Shelley.

  Claire Grace Shelley is your mistress. Hairs on the collar, stains on the sheets, I know you.

  Sir Charles And I know you. Miss Shelley’s just a hardworking girl.

  Claire Only on her back. First you try and palm her off on to your own brother –

  Sir Charles Ralph needed a wife. He took a fancy to Miss Shelley.

  Claire That didn’t work, so now you try her for the son. It’s incestuous.

  Sir Charles Don’t talk to me about incest. I remember young Jeremy Gore. You knew his father and I went to school together. But you went ahead and seduced his son. That’s incest, madam.

  Claire What’s the use? It isn’t worth raising one’s voice. But why the devil didn’t you warn us?

  Sir Charles No time. After what that ‘trick-cyclist’ chappie told me I knew we’d never convince Jack he wasn’t married and this Marguerite filly didn’t exist. So I phoned Grace and explained the position. She got dressed up in some theatrical togs and came down. Put me on a first-rate show, I thought.

  Claire It had impact.

  Sir Charles Anyway, Jack believes she’s Marguerite. All she has to do now is convince him he has to marry her again. Shouldn’t be difficult.

  Claire Dr Herder’ll object.

  Sir Charles Object? He’s got no right to object to anything, he’s not family.

  Claire He could make things difficult by having Jack declared insane before he’s produced an heir for you.

  Sir Charles Damn kraut! You’d better keep an eye on him, my dear. I’ll have my hands full getting Grace married and pregnant.

  Grace Shelley comes in upstage centre. A blonde, still dressed in a low-cut ball gown, she gestures with the camelia.

  Grace What an entrance. Beautiful, but beautiful. The look on your faces. I should have stuck to the classics. I was trained for it y’know – Mrs Phoebe Giavanno, 27A Brixton Hill. She sang with Caruso. Grand old lady. ‘From the diaphragm dear, from the diaphragm.’ Always said I had the voice. Let’s face it, Bert Bacharach is great but he’s not in the same class as Giuseppi Verdi. Phew, this dress’s tight. How did they breathe? I feel constipated. (Notices cross by the door for the first time). Christy O’Connor, what’s that? Is the roof falling in or something?