Upstart Crow

by Ben Elton

  WILL: No. I did walk in my sleep. I must put a stop to this before ’tis too late.

  Will doth leap from bed and rush from the room.

  DOWNSTAIRS – DAY

  Bottom sits at the table. Will rushes in.

  WILL: Where’s the jug?

  BOTTOM: What jug?

  WILL: The jug of paint—milk!

  BOTTOM: The jug for Mr MacBuff? Yeah, he came round really early on his way to church, saw my candle lit and came for his milk.

  WILL: Oh no, Bottom! You shouldn’t have given it to him.

  BOTTOM: What, because he’s Scottish? That’s just prejudiced.

  WILL: No, because I poisoned it.

  BOTTOM: Well, that’s really prejudiced!

  WILL: Could we get off the geopolitical aspect of this for a minute? The crucial point is to stop me from being hung for murder.fn12

  MACBUFF’S HOUSE – DAY

  The Scotsman sits upon a chair. There be white gunk and slop about his mouth and it dribbleth upon his chin. He seems to be dead.

  WILL: He’s drunk the paint! (An empty milk jug be lying on its side) What am I going to do?

  BOTTOM: I wouldn’t worry. I reckon your plaster’s good for at least another year. I don’t know what Mrs S is on about.

  WILL: I’m not talking about my dad job! I’m talking about MacBuff! He’s dead!

  BOTTOM: Maybe he’s asleep?

  WILL: Asleep? Shakespeare doth murder sleep. I’ve killed him and I’ll be found out. Milk will have blood!fn13

  BOTTOM: God, you’re so dramatic, master.

  WILL: Mm, yes, funny that. Except, hang on, it’s what I do!

  Will rushes out.

  WILL’S STRATFORD HOME – DAY

  Anne be most prettily dressed in her best attire. Susanna doth fuss about her hem.

  ANNE: It’s got to be perfect, love. I’ve never been to a dinner party before.

  Kate entereth.

  KATE: If you need any alterations, I can do them. I love girly dress-up stuff.

  SUSANNA: Yeah, we’re OK, thanks! Got this!

  Will and Bottom entereth, all agog.

  WILL: Anne, I must speak with thee. Susanna, Kate, would you mind?

  SUSANNA: Can I stay and she go?

  WILL: Please, Sue, I need a moment.

  KATE: Come on, I’d love to meet some of your mates.

  SUSANNA: That is not going to happen!

  Susanna leaveth the scene, followed by Kate.

  ANNE: I can’t believe I’m going to dinner at Sir Thomas Livesey’s. Me, a farmer’s daughter, supping with the cock-snobbled folderols!

  WILL: Anne, I’ve killed him.

  ANNE: What?

  WILL: MacBuff, I’ve killed him!

  ANNE: Don’t jape.

  WILL: I’m not japing.

  BOTTOM: Trust me, you’d know if he was japing, because you wouldn’t get it.

  WILL: I’ve murdered MacBuff. In the night I filled the milk jug with lead paint. It was a vision that led me. I thought it was a dream, but it wasn’t a dream. I really did it!

  ANNE: That’s terrible, Will!

  WILL: I know! I know!

  BOTTOM: Still, it does mean you can buy his house.

  ANNE: Actually, that’s true, we can buy his house.

  WILL: Anne, I don’t think you heard me right. I’ve murdered MacBuff!

  ANNE: Which is terrible, Will, terrible.

  Anne doth smile at Will as if to remind him that it does mean they can buy MacBuff’s house.

  WILL: Wife, how canst thou take this so lightly?

  ANNE: Well, I’m not taking it lightly, I’m just trying to see the upside.

  BOTTOM: We live in tough times. Life’s cheap. I mean, the average bloke’s dead by the time he’s twenty-five.fn14

  WILL: All right. I suppose, put like that, MacBuff should consider himself lucky.

  BOTTOM: Yeah, course he should. Selfish bastable. Well, I mean, how long did he wanna live for anyway?

  ANNE: There’s no reason why we should be suspected, not unless we bring it on ourselves. Tonight we dine at Sir Thomas Livesey’s and we must both appear innocent and carefree. Smiling and laughing.

  WILL: Yes, you’re right. Innocent and carefree. Of course, Burbage and his company are booked for the entertainment, so smiling and laughing might be harder. I think we should aim for forced grins.

  Will and Anne do practise their fake smiles.

  SIR THOMAS LIVESEY’S HOUSE – NIGHT

  Servants do prepare the feast. The players await their call to perform.

  KEMPE: I’m telling you, it’s time to take some risks. Push the boundaries. Mash it up, yeah?

  BURBAGE: But, Kempe, we have given Gammer Gurton’s Needle at every private engagement for over thirty years.

  KEMPE: Oh, hello! What are you not getting? Gammer Gurton’s Needle is old. It is therefore, by definition, crap.

  CONDELL: Oh, it’s very harsh.

  KEMPE: The world’s moved on, mate. A little thing called the Renaissance. Heard of it? We’ve gotta challenge the form, do some proper clowning.

  BURBAGE: For God’s sake, Kempe, all right, just talk us through it again.

  KEMPE: Commedia dell’Arte, mate. Cutting edge. We’ll do a lazzi.

  CONDELL: Lazzi.

  KEMPE: Oh yeah, sorry, forgot, you’re English. You don’t know about new comedy. It’s a pre-agreed scenario around which we’ll improvise.

  CONDELL: Impro-what?

  KEMPE: Improv, mate, yeah? Going with the flow, yeah? Picking up the ball. Free-forming. Finding the comedy, ooh, in the moment.fn15

  BURBAGE: But I don’t need to ‘find’ my comedy. I know exactly where it is. I simply take my inflated pig’s bladder.

  Condell doth pass a hilarious inflated pig’s bladder to Burbage and they perform together.

  BURBAGE: I drop it on the floor. I stoop to pick it up. Mr Condell kicks me up the bumshank. I go, ‘Oh!’ He says …

  CONDELL: ‘Oh, master, now thy arse be as red as thy face!’

  BURBAGE: And the whole room explodes in merriment!

  Kempe be filled with doubt and contempt.

  KEMPE: Yeah. Sorry, mate, but people don’t want jokes. They want attitude. We’ll do a famous lazzi called ‘The Fly’. It’s brilliant.

  Kempe doth laugh most irritatingly.

  CONDELL: I’m only going to do it if you stop laughing that laugh.

  KEMPE: Can’t, mate. Sometimes it’s the only way I have of expressing the breadth and depth of my comic instincts, so live with it, yeah?

  SIR THOMAS LIVESEY’S DINING HALL – NIGHT

  Sir Thomas, Shakespeare’s wife Anne and all the proud company enter the room most merrily.

  SIR THOMAS: Well now, Mrs Shakespeare, Lady Livesey and I are most happy to welcome you to our mansion.

  ANNE: Oh yes, it is splendid to be dining with the gentry, Sir Thomas. Now that my Will is advancing in the world.

  SIR THOMAS: Kit Marlowe, whom you know, of course, will be joining us. He’s just finishing a French lesson with our governess.

  The sound of sauciness and the cry of ‘Ooh la la’ be heard.

  SIR THOMAS: And we have another guest come in refuge from the plague. Robert Greene.

  WILL: Greene?! Here?

  SIR THOMAS: He gave you a poor review, did he not?

  WILL: Yes, he did. He called me ‘upstart’ in his Groatsworth of Wit.

  Robert Greene entereth.

  ROBERT GREENE: I am honoured indeed that a great poet like yourself remembers my poor slander. After all, I only studied classics at Cambridge University. Whilst you, great Hermes, did reading and adding up at Stratford Bumbling School.

  WILL: I care not for your slanders, Greene. Although methinks a better title than A Groatsworth of Wit would be to take ‘wit’, subtract two Greenes and add a call for silence.

  ROBERT GREENE: I do not follow you, sirrah.

  WILL: Why, you, sir, are Robert Greene. So two Greenes is ‘double you’.
Take W from ‘wit’ and you have but ‘it’. A call for silence is a very ‘shhh’ and add ‘shhh’ to ‘it’ and you have a groatsworth of what you write!fn16

  Sir Thomas and the company do laugh most mightily. Now Anne speaketh to Will in a whispered aside, which by strict convention none can overhear.

  ANNE: Brilliant, husband! No one would guess you’d murdered a neighbour this morning. (Turneth to Sir Thomas) Oh yes, my Will is much raised up in the world. Soon we are to buy ourselves a bigger house here in Stratford.

  SIR THOMAS: Ah.

  ANNE: New Place, which we have coveted for years. Perhaps you know it?

  SIR THOMAS: New Place? Why that belongs to Duncan MacBuff. A fine house for a fine man.

  ANNE: Mm. Also dead.

  SIR THOMAS: Dead? But I saw him but last week. He was fit and well and, being Scottish, also honest, wise, good-humoured, even-tempered and possessed of a sparkling dry wit. I think it’s the accent that I find most attractive. If ever I were to seek counsel from an independent financial advisor, I would want to hear it in a Scottish accent.fn17 Poor MacBuff. We’ll miss him.

  WILL: It had nothing to do with me. I didn’t kill him.

  Greene, sat somewhat apart, speaks in the manner of an aside, which by strict convention none can overhear.

  ROBERT GREENE: So, this MacBuff dies all of a sudden and the Upstart Crow is all a-tremble at the mention of his name. What is more, the shrewish Mrs Crow would take the dead man’s house. ’Tis strange. ’Tis passing strange.

  Unaware of Greene’s suspicions, the company chatteth most merrily.

  SIR THOMAS: I hope young Marlowe hurries himself. We are to have rice pudding and curds and it gets a skin if left to stand.

  A CORRIDOR – NIGHT

  Kit Marlowe doth chase the governess. Both cry out in jolly sauciness.

  KIT MARLOWE: Ooh oh oh!

  GOVERNESS: Ooh la la! Oo, monsieur.

  KIT MARLOWE: Ah, ha ha ha!

  A servant appears carrying a big pot of the aforementioned rice pudding and curds. As Marlowe and the governess pass, the servant loses balance, throweth the pot up in the air and is instantly covered in the slop.

  THE DINING HALL – NIGHT

  The feast be served and all do quaff and gorge most heartily. Now the gunk-covered servant doth appear in the doorway, his face obscured by gooey pudding. He doth wave his arms about. Will alone sees this vision, for the servant be behind Sir Thomas. Will stands in awe and horror, believing that he has seen the ghost of MacBuff.

  WILL: Which of you has done this?! Never shake thy milky chops at me!

  ROBERT GREENE: What ails you, sirrah?

  WILL: Stay back, vengeful spirit!

  SIR THOMAS: He sees some vision. His eye is fixed with terror.

  Will tries to point around but as the company turn, the servant has stumbled away.

  ROBERT GREENE: Some say it is conscience that maketh men see vengeful vision.fn18

  Will sits in fear and shock.

  ANNE: No, no, ’tis just a little fit. He has a very active imagination. It’s his thing.

  Anne whispers most urgently an aside, which by strict convention none can overhear.

  ANNE: For lordy’s sake! It is just a painting of fear. Like the air-drawn milk jug you saw in your wet dream.

  WILL: Look, wife, look!

  The slop-covered servant stumbles blindly through the doorway. But before the company can turn to see, Marlowe has appeared and pushed him aside.

  KIT MARLOWE: God save us all. Sorry I’m late. Slight accident. The chef says the curd pud’ll be another half an hour. (Sitteth down beside Will) You all right, Will? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. (Teasing Will most merrily) Boogedy boogedy!

  Once more Greene speaketh in an aside, which by strict convention none can overhear.

  ROBERT GREENE: Methinks I see a chance to rid myself of this unctuous oik.

  SIR THOMAS: Well, if pudding be delayed, then let us have our show. Bring on the players!

  The players enter in the costumes of the Italian Commedia dell’Arte.

  KEMPE: Hi, yeah, right, hello, hi. Erm, we’re gonna do something a bit different, yeah? It’s called a lazzi. It’s Commedia dell’Arte. It’s cutting-edge comedy from Italy, where I have performed and won several awards. Just saying, so … (Putteth the mask of Punchinello upon his facefn19) Right, Punchinello, servant to Pantalone. See, my master comes.

  Burbage entereth as Pantalone.fn20

  BURBAGE: Well, our servant, I wonder if we shall have any visitors today? (A knocking at the door) Oh! Go and see who that is.

  Kempe goes off stage whilst Burbage doth gurn most amusingly. Kempe returns.

  BURBAGE: Ah, anybody here?

  KEMPE: Not a fly, sir. Not a fly.

  Kempe drops his mask in order to speak briefly to the audience.

  KEMPE: Yeah, loving it, yeah? It’s Italian, see. Proper comedy, so …

  Another knock is heard.

  BURBAGE: Ah! Go and see who that is.

  Kempe exits and then returns.

  BURBAGE: Anyone there?

  KEMPE: Again, sir, not a fly, not a fly.

  Once more Kempe doth break character in order to address the audience.

  KEMPE: Yeah, keeping up so far? Not too challenging or ground-breaking, is it? So yeah, all right.

  Once more a knock.

  BURBAGE: Ah! This time I shall go myself to …

  Now Burbage doth exit while again Kempe addresses the audience to be sure they are keeping up.

  KEMPE: Yeah, right. Right, this is the funny bit, yeah? This is where it gets really good, right, and if you don’t love it, well, it’s your problem, so …

  Offstage there be the sound of fighting. Burbage enters, bloodied and beaten.

  BURBAGE: Agh … Oh, I have been robbed and beaten! There are hooligans there, you fool!

  KEMPE: Yeah, but there wasn’t a fly, was there?

  This is clearly the big gag but none do laugh and all have straight faces.

  KEMPE: Brilliant, yeah? Just a bit.fn21

  Burbage whispers offstage to Condell.

  BURBAGE: We’re dying on our arseingtons! Condell, quickly!

  Condell doth throw the inflated pig’s bladder to Burbage, who catches it.

  BURBAGE: What’s this here? Oops, my old pig’s bladder!

  Burbage drops it in an exaggerated comical manner.

  BURBAGE: Oops, I dropped it on the floor. I’d better stoop to pick it up!

  As Burbage stoops to pick up the bladder, Condell runs on and kicks him in the arseington.

  BURBAGE: Ooh!

  CONDELL: Oh, master, now thy arse be as red as thy face!

  The assembled company doth laugh most heartily while Burbage and Condell do prance and gurn most shamelessly. Kempe doth shake his head in despair.

  KEMPE: This is wrong, this is so wrong.

  WILL’S STRATFORD HOME – NIGHT

  ’Tis a dark and sinister night. In the bedchamber Will awakes to spy the ghostly figure of Anne, seeming to wash her hands in mid-air.

  WILL: And so, Anne’s conscience doth betray her, as mine did me. You do wander in your sleep, Anne. Ever trying to wash away our crime. But all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten that little hand.

  ANNE: Oh, don’t be so soft, I went out for a wee. Don’t you wash your hands after visiting the privy?

  WILL: I can’t go on like this!

  Will jumps out of bed and runs out.

  THE COWSHED – NIGHT

  Bottom doth slumber with Mrs Moomoo, the cow. His master entereth.

  WILL: Bottom! Bottom, get up! (Shakes Bottom awake) My mind is much troubled. I would seek advice and counsel from the weird sisters.

  BOTTOM: You want me to leave this nice warm cow to come with you looking for witches on a blasted heath?

  WILL: No, don’t be silly, of course not.

  BOTTOM: Oh good.

  WILL: I’m not going!

  Will kicketh Bottom to get hi
m up.

  THE BLASTED HEATH – NIGHT

  The three weird sisters do stand about the cauldron muttering.

  WITCHES: Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble!

  Bottom enters nervously.

  BOTTOM: Er, hello? Er, ladies, sorry to bother you while you’re cooking, but my master’s all of a doodah. He thinks Robert Greene suspects him of murdering MacBuff.

  The witches look up.

  WITCH 1: Tell Will Shakespeare to fear not. No man born of woman shall accuse him of this crime.

  WITCHES: Ha ha! Ha ha!

  BOTTOM: Oh, well, that sounds all right. What’s in’t pot?

  WITCH 1: Eye of newt and toe of frog.

  WITCH 2: Wool of bat …

  WITCH 3: And tongue of dog.

  BOTTOM: Can I have a bit?

  WILL’S STRATFORD HOME – NIGHT

  Bottom has returned and addresseth Anne and Will.

  BOTTOM: So they said that no man born of woman could e’er accuse you.

  WILL: But this is brilliant news! Greene, like all men, was born of woman!

  ANNE: We’re off the hook!

  WILL: Absolutely! We have it on the authority of three homeless derelicts with clear mental-health issues. And quite frankly, the way I’m feeling that’s good enough for me. As long as Greene was born of a woman, I’m in the clear!

  Greene doth enter most unexpectedly.

  ROBERT GREENE: In that case, sirrah, you will hang! For untimely was I ripped from my mother’s womb, born by the Caesar method!

  WILL: No, the prophecy!

  ANNE: Hang on, what difference does that make? You’re still born from a woman. I mean, tummy or front bottom, it’s still a birth, isn’t it?fn22

  ROBERT GREENE: Shakespeare, you murdered MacBuff and I will see you hang!

  MacBuff doth enter most dramatically. All recoil in horror.

  ANNE: Argh!

  WILL: See! See! He returns! The vision has come again!

  ROBERT GREENE: I see him too! Argh!

  In terror Greene doth flee, departing the scene.

  MACBUFF: I’ll trouble you for a jug of milk, Mrs Shakespeare.