(She turns. Then as an afterthought:)
Oh Ann, cam and see me first thing in the morning. I will need you to wetnurse the youngest heir. I am much too hard pressed for time myself.
She goes.
ANN (ironically). Now, where were we? Oh, yes, as we were saying. We are free.
Scene Eight
The meeting room.
GRACE, ROSE, HELEN and MARY.
ROSE (to HELEN). Least you can do is open your mouth and give us a half-good word of praise.
HELEN. You shad never have done such a thing, Rose. He’ll only be more vengeful than afore.
ROSE. You have faith he’d have stopped afore we was all rotted at bottom of the pond?
HELEN. You’ve placed the rest of our lives in jeopardy.
ROSE. They was in jeopardy anyway.
GRACE. Leave her be, Helen. The pricker has not been seen since. Was a very brave thing Rose done.
ROSE. And Jane.
MARY (teasing ROSE). Oh aye and Jane.
HELEN. Fine for Jane, being as she’s not from here. No nail nor noose will reach her – a mere lark to her mind.
ROSE (losing her temper). Don’t you go putting her under. You a fine one to say such things yourself. No one cam looking for you, being married as you are. I am cam to accept that I would never get a pat on the head or back from you, but you never open your mouth except to drench other’s suggestions.
MARY. I agree on that.
GRACE. Let’s us get on with the play.
MARY. I’m sick of the bleedin’ play. It has taken so long. Will look out of fashion now we have rid ourselves of the evil.
GRACE. We have rid ourselves of all evil, eh?
MARY. Oh, I’m not going to ache my brain reasoning with you, Grace. I’ll do my bit so long as Helen promises to keep silent.
GRACE. We have enough wishing that on us in every waking hour, to be guarded enough not to ask it of each other.
HELEN (pathetically). I cannot help being married. Is difficult to shake off accumbrements of parson.
ROSE. Nobody asked you to marry him.
HELEN. He did.
MARY. You should have said no. You are not a lady of wealth enough to have it arranged for you.
HELEN. I have always wanted children but it was not to be. Even Grace cannot tell me why and it can’t be his fault for men of the cloth are not prone to pox.
ROSE. Ha ha.
HELEN (brightly). Cam, I am still committed to our endeavours and will hold my tongue still from anything but praise.
GRACE. Right, now, Mary. I hear you have some wonderous new words to add.
MARY (hesitates but then stands). ‘Verily we enquire!’
Enter JANE.
JANE (jocular as ever). Me again, you bundle of old maids, the soldier returned to your arms.
ROSE. You came!
JANE. Flying pitchforks couldn’t keep me away. I cannot tarry long.
GRACE. You are in time to see our play.
JANE (alarmed). Has the pricker returned then?
ROSE. No. Sent for his belongings and has settled elsewhere.
GRACE. He was but part of our troubles the rest have not vanished.
JANE. Truth to say, that’s, in part, reason why I’m stood here. Is about his belongings. I have grown accustomed to poking through purses of dead men and that night when you and Grace was coaxing the bear I found some money in Pricker’s house.
She throws it down.
Do not be sore with me for I have righted myself. Is not mine.
GRACE. Nor ours.
JANE. Is now. And I have delayed too long already.
MARY. Surely half the money is yours.
JANE. I want nowt of it. That is my payment to myself for concealing it from such friends. I am away and don’t say goodbye for it would not do for a soldier to be seen with misty eyes, for I will see you again soon.
She goes.
GRACE is about to say something but she has gone. The others sit staring at the money.
MARY. Really, by rights, it belongs to Rose.
ROSE (shakes her head). It is soiled. I did not earn it by torturing women.
HELEN. True place then would be the pondbed.
GRACE. Where it would not even be of benefit to duck’s diet. Surely ’tis the property of the relatives of the women whose lives paid for it?
MARY. The factor that they had no relatives sped him in his work.
ROSE. Then maybe is ours to share? How much is there, Grace?
GRACE. You can count good as I. See for yourself.
ROSE (carefully counts it). Five and twenty shillings.
HELEN. So what does that work out at each?
ROSE. I just managed to count it – do you want miracles from me?
GRACE. Six shillings.
MARY (whistles). Six shillings?
GRACE. And threepence, but wait on, aren’t we going to use it for something for all of us.
HELEN (jokingly). Like what – buy an inn?
GRACE. What do each of you want then?
MARY. Ann would like to go to London and my excuse has all but disappeared with this windfall.
HELEN. That be no place for a child.
MARY. I have told her but it seems women are kicking up great protest there and would be fine thing to be part of. So you, Helen? What would you have?
HELEN. A child.
ROSE (not nastily). That might cost you dear but you don’t need to part with no money.
HELEN. With money I can afford a doctor from the town.
ROSE. Oh no, tell me my lugs have turned to liars.
HELEN. To me is worth trying.
ROSE. Par. You would willingly give them power over us by offering yourself up for their butchery.
GRACE (sternly). Is all right for you Rose. You do not entertain thought of having children, but it be a severe mistake to dismiss them what do.
MARY (gently). There are plenty of motherless children in the world.
HELEN. But I wish for one of my own. Only what most women take as given. Oh aye, and a great burden to many but ’tis something I want for myself. Am I to be denied that?
GRACE (carefully). And s’pose there is no cure for you, Helen?
HELEN. Then I will buy a babe.
MARY
ROSE
(outraged). Buy one!
HELEN. Plenty of women have so many they don’t know what to do with them.
MARY. Buy one off Lady H, then. She’s always farming them out.
HELEN. Money wouldn’t induce her, she don’t need it.
GRACE. Aye.
Silence.
MARY. And what then are your dreams, Rose?
ROSE. I will buy some men’s clothes and then I’m off to find Jane and fight alongside in the war.
HELEN. But you’ll have to charge about with a pike.
ROSE. Is no heavier than a scythe and a lot less wieldy to use.
Pause.
Grace?
GRACE. I am too saddened to reason further.
HELEN. Seems the only thing left is to share it.
ROSE (goes to pick it up, then). We’ve not heard from Grace yet.
MARY. Oh aye. What’s it to be for you, Grace?
GRACE. I all but feel out of turn now. For I wanted us to remain together and form a band of travelling players to go from county to county entertaining women … Making them laugh, dispelling myths and superstitions and fears so that life and health and well-being were no longer mysteries but understood by one and all.
Silence.
Rose?
ROSE. My mind is set but after the war …
GRACE. Always taken as given you are living.
ROSE. I want to be equal, Grace. Treated the same.
GRACE. But not in war – in peace. We are becoming stronger, now is not the time to throw it away.
ROSE. I am throwing nothing away ’cept my servitude.
HELEN. We should pledge now to meet two years from hence and find w
hat has becam of our dreams.
Silence.
GRACE. I cannot say goodbye in this room. Let us walk as far as the house together afore we go our separate ways.
MARY (off). I can’t wait to tell Ann.
HELEN (off). I’m not telling Parson.
HELEN and MARY go off. ROSE and GRACE linger.
ROSE. You are sorely disappointed in me, Grace?
GRACE. I know well enough once you have idea stuck in your head, take the divil to shift it.
ROSE. I will cam back and when I do I’ll have written a play all myself, Grace, for you. I won’t forget you.
GRACE turns away.
Are you all right?
GRACE. Aye, just tired.
ROSE takes GRACE’s arm and they go. Presently LADY H enters looking rather the worse for the weather.
LADY H. Yoo hoo. Cam on now. Show thyselves. I know this is where you meet.
Enter the PRICKER.
PRICKER. I have you now.
LADY H. Ah ha, now are you looking for a woman?
PRICKER. Which woman?
LADY H. Was your intent to pose that as question or accusation?
PRICKER. Oh, begging your pardon. I didn’t realise it was you, Lady H.
LADY H. Oh, ’tis but you, Master er … How remiss of me, I cannot recall your name. I thought you’d left this part of the country long since.
PRICKER (doffs his hat). Newly appointed Woman-Finder General and you do well to take my advice, Lady H, and not lurk around this place at night or I might mistake you for a hag.
LADY H. I am apt to overlook your insult as my appearance is somewhat impaired by the elements and I don’t suppose with your newly acquired grand title you’ll be having much to do with a muddy rut like this village now.
PRICKER. On the contrary. Soon I am to be stationed by here for good. Alas, there is evil in the air.
LADY H. I need no reminding, for why do you think I look like I’ve been wrestling with a hawthorn bush? As you are so concerned with the air you’d not mind giving me your cape for it’s a fair walk back to my house.
She takes the cape before he can protest and goes, leaving him standing alone in the room.
PART TWO
Scene One
Outside.
Two years later. ROSE, now a soldier, is on watch duty. She stands alone, occasionally adding a branch or log from the pile of dry wood beside her to the small fire in front of her. JANE enters, bounds over to ROSE and slaps an arm around her. ROSE looks up surprised and pleased and then looks around her nervously.
JANE. Never worry. They are always slapping arms round each other. Why aren’t you down yonder (Nodding down the hill.) fighting with the foliage to ferret out the spy?
ROSE. Why aren’t you?
JANE. I am to deliver a message and waiting on a fresh horse.
ROSE. Oh.
Pause.
JANE. To my reckoning this war will soon be finished with.
ROSE. You’ve been saying that with the same regularity as moon waxing and I know ’tis only to keep me cheerful.
JANE. Nay, I do feel it in my bones.
ROSE. We can only pray you don’t feel a bullet in your bones as proof of your miscalculation.
JANE. There is much talk of it.
ROSE. And where will they seek their enjoyment and bragging then?
JANE. Is but their bluff and relief on feeling of having cheated death. For if you have lived through the bloodiest battle, the possibility of tripping over a stone and getting a broke neck do seem remote.
ROSE. Par, that explanation be too generous by half.
JANE. So then, and I’ve been thinking on this, maybe is compensation for their inabilities. Alarmed that they cannot give life they do find glory in death. Surely that serves as explanation enough as to why they oft set themselves dangerous tasks for no other purpose than to prove themselves – ’tis envy of birth. There now would not Grace be proud of my reasoning! Maybe could even go in your play.
ROSE. I had a dream of Grace. Seems I was calling out her name – much to all else’s amusement.
JANE. If you callest out the name of every woman you know, you’ll be gaining a reputation of a real ladies’ man.
ROSE. You be almost as bad – you view everything in jest.
JANE. Oh Rosie, you would have me leave with face down to my knees?
ROSE. No, for if you leave I am afraid, and by staying here I am afraid. I do spend all my time in fear.
JANE. Tell me then what is without fear. You can lock your life away behind four walls and still be murdered in your bed.
ROSE. That is of little consolation.
JANE. I do miss you.
ROSE. And supposing we never see each other again?
JANE. Now ain’t the time for supposing.
ROSE. Oh and why not?
JANE. Supposing you’d choked to death in your cot, supposing life got crushed out of you by a cow toppling on top of you?
ROSE (smiles). The likelihood of that has lost me no sleep.
JANE. Supposing farmer bedded you and you died in childbed? Suppose you’d been swam and hung? Suppose I’d not met you, then we’d not be supposing.
ROSE. Suppose some sword run through your breast.
JANE. Then.
ROSE. Then won’t be the time for supposing.
JANE. Where is the bravery of the bear baiter?
ROSE. It got lost in some ditch, or behind some wall. I don’t know anymore and if you lay dead or dying I would have no knowledge of that either.
JANE. If I am alive I will find you and if I die I shall remember to do so thinking of you. So you will know and you must do the same for me.
Pause.
Though I don’t think you should put that in the play. Would make my character sound damaged in the brain-pan.
ROSE. You silly mome. Is not your character I want to keep alive. Is you. And me.
JANE. I know. Rosie, I know.
JANE hugs ROSE. Enter male SOLDIER. ROSE and JANE’s body language and posture change in front of him. They ‘act’ and talk like men.
SOLDIER. I thought you was to keep watch, not cling to each other like a couple of wet nurse-maids.
JANE (turning to face him). What business be it of yours?
SOLDIER. Plenty if we are attacked because of your tomfoolery. I am cam through to report, friend, that your horse be ready.
JANE (nodding towards the fire). Log burst. (Nods towards ROSE.) Embers caught him full in face.
SOLDIER (sarcastically). Nasty.
ROSE (turns). I be fine now.
(To JANE:) Thank you for your comfort.
JANE (patronisingly, to SOLDIER). Don’t fret yourself little man, I’ll not dally further, so if I’m late will be my jig roasting, not yours.
ROSE. Ride with care, sir.
JANE. I will that too, sir.
She turns and goes.
Silence.
SOLDIER (making conversation). Folly pure folly, is it not, leaving you and I alone. I thought orders was for others to return at dusk.
ROSE. Their orders was to return with spy dead or alive with preference to the latter state.
SOLDIER. Aye, well, by my reckoning commonsense should sometimes give leeway to orders.
Pause.
Or do you not agree?
ROSE. Aye.
SOLDIER (moves closer). I was apt to thinking you a bit queer but now I see I am mistaken, are you not the one fancying himself for having cuckolded the parson?
ROSE. I think not.
SOLDIER. Aye – is you – crowing in your sleep thrice ‘Grace, Grace’.
ROSE. That be twice. Thrice is this number. (She holds up three fingers.)
SOLDIER. She be your sweetheart then? Is she? She is that, I can tell. What’s she like then?
ROSE. You think this war will soon be over?
SOLDIER. You missing it that much then?
Pause.
Aye, by my reckoning we have the better
of them, but war will not end for me whilst notion of Royalty still kicking. Is the thought of those wastrel bastards getting their true deserts keeps me going.
ROSE. Then you are n’ere beset by fear?
SOLDIER. Me? Nay?
Pause.
Why then, are you?
ROSE. Aye.
SOLDIER. Well, sometimes my gut do behave of its own accord like it was nothing to do with my head. But I think that be the same for most.
ROSE. I don’t know.
Silence.
SOLDIER (almost mumbled). First time I did kill a man I did cast up. I had no notion of how bloody the mess would be.
ROSE. Did you never see death before?
SOLDIER. Aye, my sister died when I was but not five years old. But it was more like seeing a body asleep.
ROSE. And did you never see a woman swam?
SOLDIER. Oh aye, but that was more sport, she was a lewd-tongued old woman used to frighten me as a boy.
ROSE. You still look like a boy to me.
SOLDIER. By looks on you, you be even younger than I.
He moves closer.
God knows I’ve seen more hair on a woman.
ROSE moves out of the light of the fire.
Whilst we are about speaking the truth, I’ve never known a woman. I do pretend I have but I’ve not.
ROSE. Did you not know your mother?
SOLDIER (scoffs). Aye. Not by that meaning. (He nudges ROSE.) You know.
(Then piteously:) I suppose I might die not knowing.
Pause.
What’s it like then?
Pause.
What’s the game? I’ve all but laid my soul bare to you.
ROSE gestures to him to be quiet. And points to a LOYALIST SOLDIER, standing, some way off, back to them and out of breath.
(Handing his pistol to ROSE). Have that cocked. (Creeping up from behind he seizes the LOYALIST.) Cam along with you, sir, where we can see you better. (Dragging his victim in a stranglehold towards the fire.) Now out with it, what is your business?
ROSE. He can’t speak for your arm crushing his apple.
SOLDIER (shoves his opponent, who is face up, to the ground). And looks like a jerkin stuffed full of documents. Let’s see what secrets we have in here.
He bends, puts his hand inside the jerkin and pulls it out again quickly.
It be a wench. (Then with glee to ROSE:) We have ourselves a wench here.
Plays One Page 31