by Peter Barnes
Scene Three
Lights up on the Master, Kelso Truscott, Q.C., in the drawing room, which now contains more Victorian bric-a-brac: stuffed pheasants, wax fruit under glass, and a red-plush sofa. The Earl straightens up resolutely and is joined by Tucker. The Earl hands him his hat and cape and Tucker gives him The Times newspaper in return. The Earl puts it under his arm and sticks a briar pipe firmly in his mouth. Turning sharply on his heels, he squares his shoulders and marches purposefully upstage to join Truscott, a big hard-faced man who is looking through some documents.
Truscott Where did you spring from?
Earl of Gurney You must be Truscott, the Lunatic fella.
Truscott (frowning) I’m the Master of the Court of Protection. The title ‘Master in Lunacy’ isn’t used nowadays.
It is obvious Truscott is scrutinizing the Earl closely.
Earl of Gurney How about a snifter? No? All right then, Tuck.
Tucker Very good, sir. Watch yourself now. He looks a fishy-eyed, light-fingered gent to me. (Glaring at Truscott.) I know the price of everything in this room. So if there’s anything missing we shall know where to look.
He exits upstage centre. Truscott stares after him.
Earl of Gurney Splendid fella. Very loyal.
Truscott Hmm. You know why I’m here?
Earl of Gurney I’d better introduce myself first. Jack Gurney. (With slightest emphasis.) The Earl of Gurney. I believe Charles considers me incapable and you’re here to commit me officially.
Truscott Not exactly, My Lord. I make a recommendation to a Nominated Judge and he does the actual committing. My main concern is property and its proper administration. This investigation, however, is rather informal. A favour to Charles. (Takes out silver snuff box.) Yours is a confusing case. (Taps the snuffbox three times and takes snuff.) Two doctors recommend you to be put under care, but Dr Herder says you’re nearly back to normal. Of course, he is a foreigner and his idea of normal may not be mine.
Despite himself the Earl’s hand trembles as he fills his pipe. Truscott watches closely.
Earl of Gurney How do you find out?
Truscott You talk. I listen.
Earl of Gurney (sits on sofa) Ah, yes, talk. Judas talk t-t-t-t-talk . . .
Truscott (glances at file) Do you still believe you’re Christ, My Lord?
No reply.
Are you God?
No reply.
Come, sir, are you the God of Love?
The Earl stares into space, deep in thought, then slowly rises and points at him.
Earl of Gurney Harrow may be more clever.
Truscott What!?
Earl of Gurney (singing) ‘Rugby may make more row. But we’ll row, row for ever. Steady from stroke to bow. And nothing in life shall sever the chain that is round us now . . . ’
Truscott crosses grimly to the Earl, stares at him, and then, without warning joins in, in a barber-shop duet.
Truscott and Earl of Gurney ‘Others will fill our places, dressed in the old light blue. We’ll recollect our races. We’ll to the flag be true.’ (They mime rowing.) ‘But we’ll still swing together. And swear by the best of schools. But we’ll still swing together and swear by the best of schools!’
Earl of Gurney I didn’t realise – you’re Kelso Truscott. The Kelso Truscott who scored that double century at Lord’s.
Truscott A long time ago.
Earl of Gurney Of course, I was pretty low down the school when you were in your glory, Truscott. They said when you got back after the Lord’s match dressed in a kilt, you debagged the Chaplain and hit the local constable over the head with an ebony shelalee.
Truscott (chuckling) Ah, schooldays, schooldays. It’s all ahead of you then . . . You realise, Your Lordship, the fact that we’re both Old Etonians can have no possible influence on my recommendation. (Taps snuffbox.) Of course, I find it even harder to believe now. Etonians aren’t exactly noted for their grey matter, but I’ve always found them perfectly adjusted to society. (Sniffs.) Now, are you the God of Love?
Earl of Gurney He no longer exists. I was wild with too much jubilating. I’ve been raving for seven years, Truscott. But everyone’s entitled to one mistake.
Truscott Seven years. That accounts for your not being at any of the Old Boys’ reunion dinners.
Earl of Gurney I went around saying the Lord loooooves you LOOOOOVES. Teh. Grrk. (Bites hard on pipe.) Sorry there. Truscott. It’s embarrassing for a fella to remember what a spectacle he made of himself. Naturally I get tongue-tied. Bit shamefaced, don’t y’know.
Truscott You seem right enough to me, but these things are deceptive. Is there anything you feel strongly about, Your Lordship?
Earl of Gurney My w-w-wasted years. I woke up the other day and I had grey hairs. Grey hairs and duty neglected. Our country’s being destroyed before our e-e-eyes. You’re mocked in the Strand if you speak of patriotism and the old Queen. Discipline’s gone. They’re sapping the foundations of our society with their adultery and fornication!
Truscott crosses downstage left and pulls bell-rope.
Earl of Gurney The barbarians are waiting outside with their chaos, anarchy, homosexuality and worse!
Sir Charles, Claire, Grace and Dr Herder hurry in upstage centre.
Grace Well?
Truscott (putting papers into the briefcase) Dr Herder, you said you thought His Lordship was on the road to recovery. I can’t agree.
Sir Charles There.
Truscott You’re too cautious. For my money he’s recovered.
Grace kisses the Earl impulsively.
Grace We’re grateful to you, Mr Truscott.
Truscott Thank you, Your Ladyship. (To the Earl.) We’ll expect you at the next reunion dinner, My Lord. Lady Claire, a pleasure. Dr Herder, congratulations. Splendid achievement. (To Sir Charles.) You’re lucky this was only a friendly investigation, old boy. We take a dim view of frivolous complaints.
He exits.
Sir Charles Truscott’s a damn ass. Can’t he see I’m right?
Grace Right? I’ve had enough of your right. You’ve stuck your aristocratic schnozzle into my affairs for the last time. Right? Jack’s changed. Right? Everything’s changed – you, me, us, them. It’s a new deal all round. Right? You know what I mean. Right? Right!
She exits.
Sir Charles Did what I thought best.
Dr Herder The best you can do now is to leave Jack alone. He’s made a spectacular breakthrough. We’re in the process of making a new man.
Claire I’m always on the lookout for new men.
Sir Charles exits.
Claire You did it, Jack. Wonderful.
Dr Herder Leave him, he’s been under a great strain. I didn’t think he was ready for that blockhead Truscott.
Claire Blockhead or not, he brought in the right verdict.
Dr Herder I suspect the Earl’s behaviour just happened to coincide with his idea of sanity. Your nephew needs very delicate handling at this stage. And if possible, a little love.
Claire That shouldn’t be too difficult.
Dr Herder You helped Sir Charles crucify him.
Claire Jack’s changed. He’s strong now.
Dr Herder What about us?
Claire We’re too much alike. Ice on ice. I wanna feel alive.
Dr Herder And you think Jack’ll perform that miracle?
Claire Oh, rats to you.
Lights dim to a Spot on the Earl as they exit.
Scene Four
The Earl hunches his right shoulder and drags his left leg.
Earl of Gurney Deformed, unfinished, sent before me time, those eminent doctors of Divinity, Professors McKyle and Herder, cured me of paranoid delusions fantasy obsessions of love, that’s where it ended, a solvental of inner and outer tensions. No more inter-stage friction. See how I marshal words. That’s the secret of being normal. (He pulls the words out of his mouth.) ‘I’ – straighten up there. ‘AM’ – close up, close up with ‘I’, you ’orrib
le little word. ‘GOD’ . . . I AM GOD. Not the God of Love but God Almighty. God the Law-Giver, Chastiser and Judge. For I massacred the Amalekites and the Seven Nations of Canaan, I hacked Agag to pieces and blasted the barren fig tree. I will tread them in mine anger and trample them in my fury, and their blood shall be sprinkled upon my garments. For the day of vengeance is in my heart! Hats off for the God of Justice, the God of Love is dead. Oh, you lunar jackass. She betrayed you. Lust muscles tighten over plexus. Guilty, guilty, guilty. The punishment is death. I’ve finally been processed into right-thinking power. They made me adjust to modern times. This is 1888, isn’t it? I knew I was Jack. Hats off. I said Jack. I’m Jack, cunning Jack, quiet Jack, Jack’s my name. (Produces knife, flicks it open.) Jack whose sword never sleeps. Hats off I’m Jack, not the Good Shepherd, not the Prince of Peace. I’m Red Jack, Springheeled Jack, Saucy Jack, Jack from Hell, trade-name Jack the Ripper! . . . Mary, Annie, Elizabeth, Catherine, Marie Kelly. (Sings.) ‘Six little whores glad to be alive, one sidles up to Jack, then there were five.’
He exits wings left, slashing the air with his knife.
Scene Five
Lights up to show Grace and Dinsdale talking in the drawing room, now completely furnished in authentic Victorian style.
Dinsdale Gurney How could you have asked ’em? What about my career?
Grace Politics is no career for a healthy young chap. You should go out to work like the rest of us.
Dinsdale Gurney But look what happened last time.
Grace That’s why I got ’em to come again. When they see how Jack’s changed they’ll spread the word. Everybody’ll know he’s back to normal.
Dinsdale Gurney I don’t think he is.
Grace You’re just siding with your father. He won’t admit Jack’s cured because it doesn’t suit him.
Dinsdale Gurney I don’t know how you persuaded ’em to come.
Grace I’m Her Ladyship. Sixty miles outside London an awful lot of cap-tugging and forelock-touching still goes on. You couldn’t keep ’em away.
Tucker enters.
Tucker Mrs Treadwell and Mrs Piggot-Jones, Your Ladyship.
Two heads, topped with absurd hats, peer round the door.
Mrs Treadwell and Mrs Piggot-Jones edge their way apprehensively into the room. Though relieved to see the cross has gone they keep close together for protection.
Grace Welcome, ladies. You can serve tea now, Jeeves.
Tucker crosses to the tea trolley.
Mrs Treadwell (nervously) Everything’s changed.
Grace Yes, His Nibs – Jack’s just crazy about this Victorian stuff.
Mrs Piggot-Jones It’s very hard-wearing.
Grace I hear the atmosphere was a trifle strained on your last visit.
Mrs Treadwell Well, it was our first meeting with His Lordship. Neither Mrs Piggot-Jones nor myself knew him personally. Though of course we knew his father.
Grace I never knew mine. But my mother knew Lloyd George.
Dinsdale Gurney He wasn’t himself, don’t y’know. Bit unsettled. Didn’t have a wife and family then.
Mrs Treadwell How is the Right Honourable Lord Vincent, Your Ladyship?
Grace (laughing) ‘The Honourable Lord Vince.’ Oh, he’s fine, just like his dad.
The two women look startled.
(Quickly.) I know Jack wants to explain about last time.
Tucker serves tea.
Mrs Treadwell (tentatively) He asked me if I loved. Your manservant heard him.
Tucker (cupping right ear) What’s that? Speak up, missus.
Mrs Treadwell Why did he say God is love?
Earl of Gurney Because he was mad. Mad with grief. His father had just died.
A sombrely dressed Earl of Gurney enters smiling, with Claire. He is quiet, self-possessed. Claire sits on the sofa, fascinated.
Grace Talk of the devil. Darling, you remember Mrs Piggot-Jones and Mrs Treadwell?
Earl of Gurney Tucker, why are those table legs uncovered? Stark naked wooden legs in mixed company – it’s not decent. Curved and fluted, too. Don’t you agree, Mrs Treadwell?
Mrs Treadwell Well, I do think young girls nowadays show too much. After all, the main purpose of legs isn’t seduction.
Earl of Gurney Cover ’em with calico or cotton, Tucker.
Tucker Yes, sir, no, sir, three bags full, sir. I’m a 104-year-old creep and I ’ave to do everything.
He exits, mumbling.
Earl of Gurney Now ladies, when did we meet?
Mrs Treadwell Remember you asked me if I loved?
Earl of Gurney Please, not in front of women and children.
Mrs Piggot-Jones I’ve told Pamela not to brood about it.
Earl of Gurney Let’s have no talk of bestial orgasms, erotic tongueings. It burns small high-voltage holes in the brain. It’s been proved in oscillographs.
Grace My husband hates anything suggestive.
Mrs Piggot-Jones So do I. I find the whole subject distressing. I can’t understand why the Good Lord chose such a disgusting way of reproducing human beings.
Earl of Gurney Anything more refined would be too good for producing such two-legged, front-facing Hairies.
Claire Who did you finally get as guest speaker for your Church Fête?
Mrs Treadwell Sir Barrington-Cochran. That was just before he became ill.
Mrs Piggot-Jones Made a splendid speech, didn’t he, Pamela, about the rise of crime and socialism.
Dinsdale Gurney I intend to campaign actively for the reintroduction of the death penalty.
Earl of Gurney (trembling) You mean there’s no death penalty in England’s green and pleasant?
Mrs Treadwell Surely you knew, Your Lordship?
Grace We’re a bit out of touch. My husband only reads Punch.
Earl of Gurney Is nothing sacred? Why, the hangman holds society together. He is the symbol of the Great Chastiser. He built this world on punishment and fear.
Mrs Treadwell and Mrs Piggot-Jones nod vigorously.
Earl of Gurney Snuff out fear and see what discords follow. Sons strike their doddering dads, young girls show their bosoms and ankles and say rude things about the Queen. Anything goes and they do it openly in the streets and frighten the horses.
Mrs Piggot-Jones It’s the times we live in. But what can one do?
Earl of Gurney Bring back fear. In the old days the executioner kept the forelock-touching ranks in order. When he stood on the gallows, stripped to the waist, tight breeches, black hood, you knew God was in his heaven, all’s right with the world. The punishment for blaspheming was to be broken on the wheel. First the fibula. (Mimes bringing down an iron bar.) Cr-a-a-ck. Then the tibia, patella and femur. Crack, crack crack. The corpus, ulna and radius, crack. ‘Disconnect dem bones, dem dry bones, Disconnect dem bones dem dry bones. Now hear the word of the Lord.’
Irresistibly the two women join in.
Earl of Gurney, Mrs Piggot-Jones and Mrs Treadwell (singing) ‘When your head bone’s connected from your neck bone, your neck bone’s connected from your shoulder bone, your shoulder bone’s connected from your backbone. Now hear the word of the Lord. Dem bones dem bones dem dry bones. Now hear the word of the Lord . . . ’
Earl of Gurney We understand each other perfectly. But that’s only to be expected. Breeding speaks to breeding.
Mrs Piggot-Jones How splendid, Your Lordship.
Mrs Treadwell I’ve always believed I’m descended from the Kings of Munster, even though my family originally came from Wimbledon.
Mrs Piggot-Jones Forgive me for saying so, My Lord, but this is so different from our last visit. Such an unfortunate misunderstanding.
Earl of Gurney Don’t give it another thought, madam. I don’t hold it against you. I’m sure I forgot it the moment you left. (Crosses to desk.) Now forgive me, I have so much to do. (To Grace.) My dear, why don’t you show our guests round the estate?
Grace Fine. Give us a hand, Dinsdale.
Earl of Gurney
Don’t forget to show these good ladies my coronation robes, the mantle of crimson velvet lined with white taffeta, edged with miniver. Good day, ladies. You may withdraw.
He dismisses them with a regal wave of his hand. Mrs Piggot-Jones and Mrs Treadwell find themselves curtseying. The Earl turns away and picks up some letters from his desk.
Mrs Piggot-Jones (low) He’s so impressive, Your Ladyship, such natural dignity.
Grace He’s still a bit eccentric.
Mrs Piggot-Jones Runs in the family. But it’s only on the surface. Deep down one knows he’s sound.
They stop in the doorway and look back at the Earl calmly slitting open a letter with a paper knife.
Mrs Treadwell He’s so like his father. He gets more like him every day, it’s frightening.
As they exit Dinsdale turns, gives a delighted thumbs-up sign and hurries after them.
Grace Claire . . .
Claire I’ll stay and keep Jack company.
Grace You seem to be doing a lot of company keeping lately. Don’t put yourself to so much trouble.
Claire No trouble. It’s a pleasure.
Grace We’re going to miss you when you leave.
She exits. Claire watches the Earl deftly slitting open envelopes one after the other.
Scene Six
The Earl puts down the paper knife and smiles. Throughout the scene the lights imperceptibly fade down as dusk falls.
Claire Good. That leaves the two of us.
Earl of Gurney I’m still not word perfect. That talk of bestial orgasms, erotic tongueings – was very unfortunate.
Claire They didn’t mind much what you said. Your manner won ’em over. Just the right blend of God-given arrogance and condescension.
Earl of Gurney I stand outside myself watching myself watching myself. (Pulls up the corners of his mouth.) I smile, I smile, I smile.
Claire I like your smile. Before I was only sorry for you.
Earl of Gurney Ah, before, madam. Before I was a mass of light. Mad, you see. Nothing was fast enough to match my inner speed. Now I’m sane. The world sweats into my brain, madam.