Nell Gwynn
Page 5
ARLINGTON. I think the Queen is suffering from an affliction of ill humour.
The QUEEN spits on the floor in his direction.
CHARLES. She’s not angry with me, is she?
ARLINGTON. Allow me to enquire.
CHARLES (under his breath). I think per/haps you shouldn’t.
ARLINGTON (to the QUEEN). O Rei gostaria de saber, a senhora, se você está irritado com ele. [The King would like to know, Madam, if you are angry with him.]
QUEEN. Irritado? Eu, irritado? Irritaola? Pareço irritado? Estou tāo furiosa que peço meu Deus para golpear-lo, e queimar suas entranhas; para enviar-lo ao inferno onde o diabo pode banquetear-se com os restos carbonizados. Sim, estou irritada, estou furiosa! [Angry? Me, angry? Do I seem angry? I am so angry I ask my God to smite him down, to burn his entrails to coals and to send him to hell where the devil can feast on his charred remains. Yes I am angry, I am in a fury!]
ARLINGTON. She says… yes. I shall enquire further.
CHARLES. I / wouldn’t.
QUEEN. Estou chateada porque O Rei fedorento nomeou sua puta, a primeira dama da minha câmara real! Acch, essa prostituta, Barbara Castlemaine! [I am upset because the stinking King named his whore the First Lady of my royal bedchamber. Ugh! That prostitute, Barbara Castlemaine!]
ARLINGTON. Barbara Castlemaine?
CHARLES. Oh / no.
QUEEN. Sim! [Yes!]
ARLINGTON. Nao! [No!]
QUEEN. Sim! [Yes!]
ARLINGTON. Sir! What on earth possessed you?
CHARLES. I thought perhaps –
ARLINGTON. Perhaps what? They’d enjoy an exchange of girlish pleasantries before bed?
CHARLES. I thought the Queen might be lonely.
ARLINGTON. You cannot make your mistress First Lady of the Queen’s bedchamber! Good God, sir! There’s no one the Queen hates more than –
SERVANT (announcing). Lady Castlemaine.
LADY CASTLEMAINE strolls in, looking pleased with herself.
LADY CASTLEMAINE. You called?
QUEEN. Ela! [Her!]
CHARLES. Oh no.
QUEEN. Sua puta! Vagabunda! Demônio insensivio! [Slut! Vagabond! Callous she-devil!]
LADY CASTLEMAINE. The Queen seems a little perturbed. Is it the Spanish flu?
QUEEN. Sou portuguesa, sua imbecil! [I’m Portuguese, you imbecile.] (In broken English.) O, senhor, sir, I am your Queen, your wife. I honour you for the good of my country. But this, you insult me. You hurt me in my heart.
She leaves in silence.
CHARLES (to LADY CASTLEMAINE). Why can’t you just – be friends?
LADY CASTLEMAINE. Don’t blame me if your lunatic wife is racked by paroxysms. She is a slave to the vapours. No wonder she is barren.
CHARLES. Madam, you go too far. Do not forget that your place here is according to my will.
LADY CASTLEMAINE stops. She turns to the SERVANTS.
LADY CASTLEMAINE. Get out.
They leave. She turns to CHARLES.
How can you insult me in front of them? They will not respect me.
CHARLES. Then earn their respect. And mine.
LADY CASTLEMAINE. Sir!
CHARLES. You ask too much – you both do. You make my head ache. I’m going to the theatre.
ARLINGTON. Sir, you know Parliament’s aversion to theatricals. I really don’t know what you see in them.
CHARLES. Joy, Arlington! That’s what. Joy – and gaiety – and a complete absence of complicated women.
CHARLES leaves. The others follow.
Scene Nine
A Very Important Guest
Cut to mid-scene on stage. HART and NELL are magnificent. They’re like Beatrice and Benedick, both playing a good deal to the audience. NELL holds a mask on a stick to disguise herself.
NELL. ‘Have you seen this Florimel?’
HART. ‘I looked a little that way, but I had soon enough of her.’
NELL. ‘Indeed? They say you are betrothed.’
KYNASTON enters as Flavia and looks around for NELL.
KYNASTON. ‘Florimel, you are called within.’
HART. ‘Florimel?!’
KYNASTON stands, reluctant to leave, looking over the audience. Finally he makes his exit.
NELL. ‘At your service. The same kind and coming Florimel that you have described.’
HART. ‘Then you have counterfeit to deceive me?! I knew at once that we were good for nothing but each other. Florimel, let us be married at once!’
NELL. ‘Married at once?’
HART. ‘By Jove, yes. And do you, oh beauteous Florimel, consent?’
HART goes to embrace her – she stops him, enjoying DRYDEN’s rewrite.
NELL. ‘No. I shall not marry you yet. For I must have proof of love before I can believe it. I would have a lover that would hang himself, drown himself, break his neck, poison himself for very despair. He that will scruple that is an impudent fellow if he says he is in love.’
CHARLES arrives in the Royal Box. Everyone turns to look at CHARLES – HART bows to him; NELL hasn’t seen him and continues, oblivious.
HART (hushed). Nell!
NELL. What? (Seeing him.) Oh!
NELL meets his eyes. She curtsies.
CHARLES. Don’t let me interrupt. Play on!
HART. ‘Pray, madam, which of the four things would you have me do? For a man’s but a man. He cannot hang, drown, break his neck, and poison himself all together.’
NELL begins to play, just a little, to CHARLES.
NELL. ‘Well then, because you were but a beginner, any of these should do.’
HART, trying to hide his frustration, attempts to place himself between NELL and CHARLES.
HART. ‘I am much deceived in those eyes of yours if a treat, a song and the fiddles be not more acceptable proof of love than any of those tragical ones you have mentioned.’
NELL. ‘Oh, but you must be pale and melancholic to show that you are in love. And that I shall require of you when I see you next.’
HART is getting increasingly jealous.
HART. ‘When shall I see you next?’
NELL. ‘Shall I make a proposition to you? I will give you a whole year of probation to love me in. To grow reserved, discreet, sober and faithful, and to pay me all the services of a lover.’
HART. ‘And at the end, will you marry me?’
NELL (turning to CHARLES). What do you think, Your Majesty?
CHARLES. I think you should wait for a better offer.
NELL smiles at CHARLES, who is entranced. She takes a deep curtsey, and then one separately to CHARLES. HART, meanwhile, is dying inside.
Scene Ten
The Finest English Sausage
Minutes later, NELL returns to the dressing room. She’s in a spin. NANCY and ROSE are there to help her change. HART storms in. He pays no heed to the other two girls.
ROSE. The King, Nelly!
NANCY. The blooming King!
HART. What were you thinking?
NELL. What?
HART. The love scene. You played it all to him.
NELL. I did not.
HART. I was there, Nell. Waiting for a single, solitary glance.
NELL. I looked at you.
HART. Hardly.
NELL. I was playing to the punters. You taught me that.
HART. And I regret it.
NELL. Charlie –
HART. I couldn’t concentrate! I can’t perform if I’m thinking of someone else.
NANCY. That’s a man’s trouble. Women do it all the time.
HART. You humiliated me. In front of them! The way he looked at you –
NELL. I’m on the stage. He was only looking.
HART. Don’t you see? If he wants you, he has you. So for God’s sake, don’t tempt him. All right? (Beat.) All right?
CHARLES arrives in the doorway.
CHARLES. Knock, knock.
HART (without turning round). Come back later.
CHARLES. Busy later.
CHARLES. Look, would you mind…
He indicates that he wants to be left alone with NELL. HART doesn’t want to leave.
HART. Sir, we’re about to go back on.
CHARLES. Just – do a jig, will you? Or a tinkly bit on the lute. Keep them entertained. (Pause.) Off you go.
They all make to go, including NELL.
Not you, Gwynn.
NELL. Your Majesty.
A beat. HART exits, fuming, followed by NANCY and ROSE. NELL and CHARLES look at each other.
CHARLES. Weren’t you getting changed? Don’t let me stop you.
NELL. It’s thruppence for the peeping fee.
CHARLES. I thought it was a penny.
NELL. Depends who’s asking. Shouldn’t you be watching the play?
CHARLES. I was bored. The main attraction’s gone. You think it’s an improvement, having women on my stage?
NELL. Course. ’Specially a woman from Cheapside.
CHARLES. Cheapside?
NELL. Oh, it’s a marvellous place, besides the corpses and the stink of slop. Maybe you should call by.
CHARLES. Maybe I will. Really, nobles are so tedious, between talking to a dead body and the Duke of Cambridge I’d take the corpse every time.
NELL. It can’t be all bad, being King. Do you like it?
CHARLES. Like… being King?
NELL. Yep. Why? You never been asked before?
CHARLES. Never. Folk are usually too busy grovelling at my feet. Not you though.
NELL. Not me, no.
CHARLES. Dine with me tonight.
NELL. Sir?!
CHARLES. After the play.
NELL. You said you were busy later.
CHARLES. I am. I’m taking you for dinner.
Beat.
NELL. I have plans.
CHARLES. What plans?!
NELL. I’m learning lines with Mr Hart.
CHARLES. Ah, he’s the lover, is he?
NELL. He’s Celadon, yes.
Beat.
CHARLES. And afterwards?
NELL. It’s Thursday. I’m having a bath.
CHARLES. You smell divine. Don’t wash.
NELL. Oh, I must, sir. Underneath here I’m filthy.
CHARLES. I’ll bet you are. But a girl must eat – let me tempt you. Roast hog. Very wild boar. The finest English sausage.
NELL. I couldn’t. I only dine with gentlemen.
CHARLES. I am a gentleman!
NELL. Hardly, asking a girl for supper before you’ve even introduced yourself.
CHARLES. I’m Charles.
NELL. Charles who?
CHARLES. Charles Stuart!
NELL. Well, Charles Stuart. I am Nell Gwynn. (Pause.) You got a bath at your place?
CHARLES. Forty-three.
NELL. Oh.
CHARLES. What do you want, Nell Gwynn? Money?
NELL. No. I want you to answer my question. Do you like it? Being King.
CHARLES. Well… I don’t want for anything. I can summon our finest soprano, I sup from the very best china.
NELL. But…?
CHARLES. I didn’t say ‘but’.
NELL. I saw it. In your face. You looked away. And your breath changed. You took a short breath.
CHARLES. Meaning what, exactly?
NELL. Meaning you’re covering. You’ve got more in your pate than you’re saying.
CHARLES. And what makes you so sure?
NELL. I’m an actress, sir. We trade in the language of the face. Go on. You sup from the very best china – but…
Pause.
CHARLES. But… my father was killed in front of a crowd. And I was there. I watched.
NELL. Sorry.
Pause.
CHARLES. People have expectations. Notions of what they want me to be.
NELL. I know all about that.
CHARLES. I suppose you do.
NELL. Still, I wouldn’t swap.
CHARLES. Sorry?
NELL. Not being able to go where my feet take me or say what I like? I wouldn’t be King for all your crown jewels.
CHARLES. That sounds like treason, young lady. I could have you strung up.
NELL. Now that would be a shame. If you had me killed in Act One, how’d you know what happens next?
CHARLES. Isn’t it obvious? Boy meets girl, girl resists, then, after a bit of badinage… he bags her.
NELL. That’s your experience, is it?
CHARLES. Every time.
NELL. You haven’t been watching the right plays, sir. The girl in this tale isn’t half so predictable.
Music.
And that’s my cue. Anon. (Exits.)
CHARLES. I… (Pause.) Well, I’ll be damned.
Scene Eleven
The Enchanted Island
Cut to a crisis. The COMPANY are gathered and tempers are frayed.
DRYDEN. So, far away on a distant shore, there is a wizard, who lives on an island. And his name is Prospero!
NANCY. Wait a minute –
DRYDEN. With his daughter Miranda –
HART. Dryden, is this your / idea?
DRYDEN. And his other daughter, Dorinda.
NED/NANCY. / Oh!
KYNASTON. Oh! Dorinda?
DRYDEN. Then, when a ship is wrecked off the coast in a tempest… – (Looking warily at the others.) tempest… uous storm, some men are washed ashore!
NELL. Sounds exciting.
NANCY. Sounds familiar.
KILLIGREW. Enough of that. This is The Enchanted Island by Mr Dryden. Nell, you’re to play Miranda; Kynaston, Dorinda. Ned, you’re the mermaid. And Hart, you can cheer up. You’re to play Prospero.
HART. The strapping young hero?
KILLIGREW. Well… I’m not sure ‘strapping’ is quite the word. Or ‘young’. Or perhaps ‘hero’. But it’s a splendid part.
HART. He’s the lover though?
KILLIGREW. Well, he loves… (Searching.) magic. And islands!
HART. He’s not the lover?
KILLIGREW. Dryden?
DRYDEN. Well. Yes. Sort of. (Pause.) No. No, he’s not.
HART. Why aren’t I the lover?
KILLIGREW. Just a request. From above.
HART. From the Palace?!
KILLIGREW. No time for debate. We don’t have long. We open on Saturday.
ALL. Saturday! / What?! (Etc.)
HART. We haven’t even read it yet!
KILLIGREW. His Majesty insists.
KYNASTON. Can’t you put him off? He’s been in every night.
KILLIGREW. I think, in truth, the King is rather taken with our Florimel.
Everyone turns to look at NELL.
NELL. I didn’t ask for it.
HART. And if he wants to come every night? What then? A play a day until he finds a new doxy for his fancy.
NELL. Charles.
HART (reading the stage directions). It says here Prospero is a wizened old man! I am the lover. I’ve always been the lover. I don’t want to be some crusty old jester in a false beard – (Unravelling the scroll and reading on incredulously.) and a pointy hat!
KILLIGREW. That’s just the stage directions. We can ignore them.
DRYDEN. No you can’t!
KYNASTON. Charles, darling, remember this outrage and channel it into your performance, temples raised, nostrils flared –
HART. Shut up, Edward!
KYNASTON. Magnificent!
As KILLIGREW speaks, CHARLES arrives – everyone else in the COMPANY notices. KILLIGREW continues without noticing.
KILLIGREW. Listen. We have a play to rehearse for the King. The bloody-minded, monstrous, murderous King. And you know what he does if you provoke him? Head. On. Spike. Now, let us read from the top. (Pause.) What?
He turns around and sees CHARLES.
Oh God!
CHARLES. Well, King. Next rung down. Look, I can see you are – practising – but if I might steal a moment wit
h Miss Gwynn.
KILLIGREW. Of course, Your Gracious Majesty. (To everyone.) Out!
They begin to leave. CHARLES addresses NELL. NANCY goes to leave then decides to linger out of sight behind a screen.
CHARLES. You were rather good last night.
NELL. Sir.
CHARLES. Though you were better the night before.
NELL. I’m sorry?
CHARLES. You seemed distracted.
NELL. Some rogue was making eyes at me.
CHARLES. How dare he? Who does he think he is?
NELL. The King of England?!
CHARLES. So come on then. What do they pay you?
NELL. Sir!
NANCY (behind the screen). Two shillings.
NELL. Nan!
NANCY (behind the screen). But only every third night –
NELL. Hey!
NANCY (behind the screen). And only if it’s full.
CHARLES. Scandalous! Who runs this place? We should riot! But perhaps, in the meantime, I could tempt you with a supplement.
NELL. I’ve given that up, sir.
CHARLES. I’d keep you well.
NELL. I don’t like to be kept.
CHARLES. A hundred pounds.
NANCY (behind the screen). A hundred pounds!!
CHARLES. And your own lady-in-waiting.
NANCY (popping out from behind the screen). Hello?
NELL. I / couldn’t.
CHARLES. Silks, gems, a room at the Palace. Listen. I like you.
NELL. You’ve only just met me.
CHARLES. You’re different.
NELL. You hardly know me.
CHARLES. And I like talking to you.
NELL. And I, you.
CHARLES. A lot.
NELL. And I.
They share a moment.
CHARLES. I don’t like to talk money. It does seem rather vulgar, but how much do you want?
NELL. Sir –
CHARLES. Two hundred?
NELL. I can’t –
CHARLES. Two fifty?
NELL (carefully, thinking of HART). I have a life here… and people in it.
CHARLES. But?
NELL. There’s no but, sir.
CHARLES. There was. I saw it. You caught your breath.