Nell Gwynn

by Jessica Swale

  NELL. You misread me. I’m sorry.

  CHARLES. Shame. If you’re certain –

  NELL. I am.

  CHARLES. Then I’ll leave you to your theatricals. (Goes to leave.) Speaking of which, have you seen Cleopatra at the Duke’s? Moll Davies is mesmeric.

  NELL. Moll Davies?

  CHARLES. She has… ‘infinite variety’.

  A stand-off.

  Well, I must make haste. Her entrance is spectacular. Good day, Miss Gwynn. (Exits.)

  NELL (exploding). Moll Davies! She’s got less life in her than a leper’s foot.

  NANCY. Got you though, didn’t it?

  NELL. What?

  NANCY. He’s playing you.

  NELL. People don’t play me. (Pause.) He can’t – I won’t let him… Nan?

  NANCY. What?

  NELL. I need your help.

  NANCY. What sort of help?

  NELL. Baking.

  NANCY. Baking? What are we baking?

  HART enters. NANCY hasn’t noticed.

  NELL (seeing HART). Charles.

  NANCY (anticipating a scene). I have some stockings to – try on.

  NANCY leaves. A beat.

  HART. So that’s it then, is it? You and me.

  NELL. –

  HART. He’s been here every night!

  NELL. He loves the playhouse.

  HART. In your dressing room.

  NELL. Were you spying?

  HART. Just tell me! I can take it.

  NELL. There’s nothing to tell. We only speak!

  HART. You? Just ‘speak’?!

  NELL. What’s that supposed to mean?

  HART. Has he made you an offer?

  NELL. No.

  HART. You’re lying.

  NELL. No.

  HART. Nell –

  NELL. All right, yes but –

  HART. But nothing! There’ll be pamphlets by sunrise. The hounds don’t waste a moment. Charles Hart – coxcombed in front of his public!

  NELL. Your public?!

  HART. You wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t dragged you up – you’d be down in the pit, or in the alley, with your skirt around your waist and your gagging men with their grasping hands. You were a whore!

  NELL. Yes, I was. I was.

  Beat.

  HART (fishing out some coins). What’ll you charge now? A shilling? A guinea? (Throws them at her feet.) I don’t think I could afford you. (Going.)

  NELL. Charlie? Charles!

  HART. What?!

  NELL. I turned him down. I turned him down.

  HART turns back to her, but he’s blown it and he knows it.

  Scene Twelve

  Laxatives

  NELL and ROSE are in NELL’s dressing room, when ARLINGTON arrives.

  ARLINGTON. I’d like to speak with Miss Gwynn. Alone.

  NELL. She’s my sister – we have no secrets.

  ARLINGTON. May I speak frankly? Your flirtation with the Monarch. Your supposition of his particular regard for you –

  NELL. Supposition?

  ARLINGTON. We won’t allow it. It is – unsuitable. The King has a nation to command. You are a distraction.

  NELL. What? My backstage chats with the King.

  ARLINGTON. Madam, for a monarch, there is no ‘backstage’. People talk. Tattle-tellers. Scandalmongers. There is no privacy when you are the King of England.

  NELL. Men pay a coin to watch me change. I know about lack of privacy.

  ARLINGTON. I don’t think you understand.

  NELL. You underestimate me.

  ARLINGTON. We’ve waited a decade for him. A decade under the thumb of a commoner. The King is divine, madam. God’s emissary on Earth. And you –

  NELL. What? I’m a what? A commoner? A whore? You can’t insult me, sir. I am common. And I was a whore. What are you scared of? That I’ll bring down the English Court by dancing a jig in it?

  ARLINGTON. You may be schooled in backchatting. Titflirting. But your games don’t wash with me. You will lose, so I’d strongly advise you not to play.

  NELL. Are you threatening me?

  ARLINGTON. I’m merely imparting friendly advice. (Pause.) How do you find it, in Coal Yard Alley?

  NELL. Sir?

  ARLINGTON. You hear terrible stories of girls being roughed up after dark. I’d hate to think you were in any danger. Round there, people just disappear without a trace. (Beat.) Good luck with the rehearsals, Miss Gwynn, I hope the punters are entertained.

  And with that, he is gone. NELL is shaken. ROSE looks at her sister.

  ROSE. What are you doing?

  NELL. How dare he!

  ROSE. You have to stop.

  NELL. Come in here?! It’s my dressing room!

  ROSE. He’s not some sponger with a gin mouth, Nell, he’s a courtier.

  NELL. He could be Henry the Eighth for all I care, he has no place!

  ROSE. Hey – your cheek has got you so far, but this – he’s the King of England!

  NELL. He’s a man like any other.

  ROSE. Nell! Walk half a mile upriver and the heads of his enemies are rotting on spikes!

  NELL. That’s political. I’m not political.

  ROSE. You’re a girl of no rank – a commoner. And you’re a Protestant. Everything about you is political. They will cut your throat. You have to stay away from the King – you promise me – and if he comes back –

  NANCY (racing in). He’s here! The King is here!

  ROSE. Nell, please – for once, listen to me –

  CHARLES (arriving). Miss Gwynn. (To ROSE.) You, trot off.

  ROSE. She oughtn’t to be left alone.

  CHARLES. She’s not alone. She’s with me.

  ROSE doesn’t leave.

  NELL. Go on, Rose.

  ROSE looks at NELL in indignation, then leaves.

  CHARLES. Miss Gwynn. You’ve caused quite a scene.

  NELL. ’Tis what I do, sir.

  CHARLES. Don’t be facetious. You’ve caused Miss Davies great embarrassment.

  NELL. Embarrassment? What can he mean, Nancy?

  NANCY. I wouldn’t know, ma’am. What embarrassment, sir?

  CHARLES. You know exactly what I am talking about.

  NELL. No. I think you should explain.

  NANCY. Oh yes, sir. Go on.

  Pause. CHARLES realises he’s been cornered.

  CHARLES. Last night – you caused me great dissatisfaction.

  NELL. I am sorry. It’s hard to satisfy a man from a mile across London. If I’d known you were alone –

  CHARLES. I was in Miss Davies’s company.

  NANCY. Last time I heard she was in the Duke’s Company, fickle wench.

  CHARLES. Listen –

  NELL. Couldn’t she satisfy you as you’d please, sir?

  CHARLES. No. She was indisposed.

  NELL. Indisposed? How?

  NANCY. The clap?

  CHARLES. No. Laxatives.

  NELL/NANCY. Laxatives?!

  CHARLES. Laxatives. Baked into a marzipan tart.

  NANCY. Well I never.

  NELL. Who could have done it?

  CHARLES. Nell…

  NELL. How embarrassing. I hope you weren’t witness to –

  NANCY. Oh sir!

  NELL. She didn’t?!

  NANCY. What? During?!

  NELL. Must have put you right off.

  CHARLES. You don’t say.

  NELL. I hope word doesn’t spread –

  NANCY. It would cause a terrible stink –

  CHARLES. Ladies!

  NELL. Sorry. We were being facetious. I mean. She was being ‘faecetious’.

  Pause.

  CHARLES. Three hundred pounds.

  NANCY. Three hundred pounds!?

  NELL. Will you make me comfortable?

  CHARLES. I’ll make you very comfortable.

  Beat.

  NELL. Four hundred.

  CHARLES. Four!

  NELL. Call it interest.

  CHARLES. Well, I do
have a lot of interest. In your performance. All right. Four hundred.

  NELL. And the silks.

  CHARLES. And the silks.

  NANCY. And the carriage.

  CHARLES. And the carriage.

  NELL. And the apartment.

  CHARLES. What apartment?

  NELL. It’s an awful trek back to the Palace from Cheapside. I wouldn’t want you to get your feet dirty walking home of a morning.

  CHARLES. You are unbelievable.

  NELL. How dare you! Haven’t you seen my Florimel?

  CHARLES. I’ve been waiting to see your Florimel for weeks. Come here.

  He pulls her to him. He indicates that NANCY should turn round to face the wall, which she does.

  Well. If you are to have the silks –

  NELL. And the carriage –

  NANCY. And the apartment – and the lady-in-waiting –

  NELL. And five hundred pounds –

  CHARLES. Five?! Five. Then I shall want to see you all the time.

  NELL. Whenever you like.

  CHARLES. Shall I come often?

  NELL. Every night.

  CHARLES. Every night?

  NELL. Maybe even twice.

  They kiss.

  Scene Thirteen

  Territory

  At the Palace. NELL is being moved into LADY CASTLEMAINE’s apartments. A servant, WILLIAM, enters, pushing a grand-looking chest on trolley.

  WILLIAM. Where shall we put this, ma’am?

  NELL. What is it?

  WILLIAM. A Byzantine urn of Istrian marble.

  NELL. Is that what they call it?

  LADY CASTLEMAINE (appearing). I find it sits well on the terrace. It catches the afternoon light.

  NELL (curtseying). Lady Castlemaine.

  LADY CASTLEMAINE (to WILLIAM). Be gone.

  WILLIAM doesn’t move.

  Didn’t you hear me?

  WILLIAM. Miss Gwynn?

  NELL. Thank you, William.

  WILLIAM exits.

  I thought you’d left last night.

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. I decided to stay. I wanted to meet you. I’ve never met an actress before.

  NELL. And?

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. You’re just as I imagined. I wonder what he sees in you. They say you’ve the voice of a linnet. Go on, little bird. Sing.

  NELL. I don’t perform on demand.

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. Oh dear, then you won’t last long with the King. Go on. Entertain me.

  NELL pauses. She decides to improvise a song.

  NELL (singing).

  Long live Lady Castlemaine,

  Some folk call her Barb-ra.

  Every man in Eng-a-land

  Follows her hereafter.

  Every gent from here to Kent,

  Longing for her ardour.

  For she’s mum to all of ’em!

  And nobody knows their father.

  Long live Lady Castlemaine,

  Or should I call you Barb’ra,

  Every man in Eng-a-land

  Will follow her hereafter.

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. My dear, I chose to leave. I’m going to France.

  NELL. And what’s in France?

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. Louis. Of course. May I offer some advice?

  NELL. I can make my own way.

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. That’s what you think. I’m afraid you have the glow.

  NELL. And what’s the glow?

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. You’re flushed. You feel chosen, don’t you? Special. And you are – for a while. But it won’t last. And when he tires of you, as he will, he’ll spit you out and throw you back whence you came. Only you can’t go back. Because everything you had, you’ve given up. For him. You will be lost. Sunk.

  NELL. I have to unpack.

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. Good day, Miss Gwynn. One more thing. Claim your title before your body’s wracked in childbirth.

  NELL. I don’t want a title.

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. I’m sorry?

  NELL. You think that’s why I’m here?

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. Why else are you here?

  NELL. I’m not like you. I don’t want to be a lady. Or a duchess. I don’t want any of that.

  LADY CASTLEMAINE. Then why… (Pause.) Oh dear God. You love him. You’re in love with the King. You poor, impotent child. Well. Then there’s nothing in the world can help you now.

  LADY CASTLEMAINE leaves. NELL watches her go, shaken…

  End of Act One.

  ACT TWO

  Scene One

  At the Palace

  A good few years later…

  CHARLES is late for a morning meeting with ARLINGTON.

  CHARLES arrives, perhaps with a spaniel.

  ARLINGTON. You’re late.

  CHARLES. I was walking the dogs.

  ARLINGTON. Here are the treaties.

  CHARLES. I’ll read them later.

  ARLINGTON. They need signing today.

  CHARLES. I’ll look at them after my – other activities.

  ARLINGTON. Enlighten me?

  CHARLES. I’m playing piquet with Nell. Then walking the dogs. Again.

  ARLINGTON. Oh please.

  CHARLES. It’s for their health, Arley. No one likes a fat dog. Besides, people like to see me with the spaniels. It’s becoming a bit of a thing.

  ARLINGTON. They need signing today.

  CHARLES. It’s Sunday. Don’t you have church to go to?

  ARLINGTON. Don’t you?

  CHARLES. When I go to Mass, the Protestants whinge. When I go to chapel, the Catholics moan. I can’t win, so I vote – stay in bed. Besides, the priest’s taken against me; whenever I go to confession, he darts out the door.

  ARLINGTON. Last time you went to confession it took eight-and-a-half hours.

  CHARLES. What can I say? (Proudly.) ‘Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned – A LOT!

  ARLINGTON. You know it wouldn’t harm French relations for you to attend the odd Mass while they’re here.

  CHARLES. That’s a week away.

  ARLINGTON. They’re coming today.

  CHARLES. What?! I thought they were coming on the second.

  ARLINGTON. It is the second.

  CHARLES. That blasted sundial. I shouldn’t read it when I’m drunk.

  ARLINGTON (suddenly exploding). Does it ever cross your mind that your seat is under threat?! You have no heir, the Spanish are up in arms, we’ve lost three colonies in the last fortnight and you’re gadding about with your spaniels. And with her. The nation’s falling apart! Don’t you care?

  CHARLES. Of course I care! What do you want me to do about it?

  ARLINGTON. You’re the King! You’ve not made a single decision for weeks, other than to run us dry, frittering the funds on your oversized playhouses!

  CHARLES. Playhouses are a valuable national asset.

  ARLINGTON. Oh, very good, we get marks for poncing about in funny wigs while being systematically scrubbed off the map. You’ll be remembered for bringing back theatre and leaving the country in tatters.

  CHARLES. What’s the point of having a country if it’s sapped of all joy, Arlington? Down with austerity!

  ARLINGTON. Parliament’s accusing you of sitting on the fence. They say you’re weak. You have to take a stand.

  CHARLES. You really are a fool, Arlington.

  ARLINGTON. Sir!

  CHARLES. Do you honestly think I’ve let things drift because I can’t be bothered? I’m sitting on the fence because it’s the only way to survive. Every signature I leave is like inking my own death warrant. Have you forgotten what happened to my father? I’ve no intention of signing those. Not one of them. And you can ask me till the dogs have been walked and the cows come home, I’m not signing a damned thing. Maybe my legacy will be one of indecision, maybe. But it’s the only way to keep my head. What else can I do? (Beat.) And that is why I’m seeing my Nell.

  He goes to exit.

  ARLINGTON. Sir?

  CHARLES. What?

  ARLINGTON. Humour me for
a moment.

  CHARLES. Oh no.

  ARLINGTON. Our alliance with France –

  CHARLES. I knew it.

  ARLINGTON. Our bond with them is fragile.

  CHARLES. Can’t we just send them a gift?

  ARLINGTON. Like what?

  CHARLES. Tennis balls?

  ARLINGTON. Sir. We need to forge a link, a ‘relationship’ if you will. They’ve brought a lady with them. She’s exquisite –

  CHARLES. No.

  ARLINGTON. Gentile –

  CHARLES. No.

  ARLINGTON. And constantly libidinous.

  Pause.

  CHARLES. I will not take another mistress.

  CHARLES looks at ARLINGTON. NELL arrives with two beautiful cloaks.

  NELL. Charles. Crimson or buff? It’s for Newmarket. I think – (Picking the buff.) this one. (About the crimson.) I wore this at Richmond last spring, and I’d rather not give the pamphleteers the satisfaction of pointing it out. (Looking at them both.) What?

  ARLINGTON. Just think about it.

  CHARLES (purposefully ignoring him). Buff. I like you best in the buff. (To ARLINGTON.) Are you still here?

  ARLINGTON. I shall go and make arrangements. (Exits.)

  NELL. What arrangements?

  CHARLES. It’s nothing. The French are coming, that’s all.

  NELL. I thought as much. They’re all in a tizz in the kitchens. They spent all night dredging the ponds for frogs, then the boy let them loose in the larder. You look tired. Is Arlington tormenting you? Shall I set Kynaston on him?

  CHARLES. Come here.

  He pulls her too him. They share a tender moment. He runs his fingers through her hair.

  Your hair is different.

  NELL. I’ve got a new woman. She rolls it in paper.

  CHARLES. I like it. It suits you.

  NELL. Thanks.

  She kisses him then looks at him with concern.

  Charlie?

  CHARLES. It’s nothing. Just France.

  NELL. You’ll charm them. You always do. What’s he asking of you?

  CHARLES. Arlington? Too much.

  NELL. He’s pushy – he’s a Catholic. But he’s nobody’s fool. Maybe you should listen to him.

  CHARLES. You can’t stand him!

  NELL. I can’t bear him. But if he wants you to befriend them, it’s probably for good reason.

  CHARLES. Hm. And as if that’s not enough, my blockhead of a brother is threatening to join the Papists. Catholics?! Really!