The Jester's Daughter

by Peter D Wilson

it's got to be quick, and it's got be made known, at least to the said idiots.

  JUSTIN: Hmm. It wouldn't normally be very special news.

  ROBERT: One way might be to install your new–found heir and his family in the manor itself. That would be sure to come to their ears. Is there a sitting tenant, by the way?

  JUSTIN: A steward. That's no problem.

  ROBERT: Good. So all we need is to choose your son.

  JUSTIN: There's no option. In the time we have, it can only be Nicholas.

  ROBERT: A bit young for the part, isn't he? And no family, not even a wife.

  JUSTIN: There's nothing we can do about his age. A wife is another matter.

  ROBERT: Oh, come off it, Justin. I may be fairly hard at times, and of course these things are essentially matters of convenience, but I'd never force a man besotted with one woman into marriage to another. Altogether too cruel all round.

  JUSTIN: You fairly hard? Actually, Robert, I think you're quite a romantic on the quiet.

  ROBERT (warily): Justin, I don't like that crafty look in your eye. I've seen it before, and it usually bodes trouble.

  JUSTIN: Does it, indeed? Well, how about this? You've just wished a son on me. Allow me to return the compliment with a daughter.

  ROBERT: What!!?

  JUSTIN: Simple. I adopt Nicholas; you adopt Alison. That gets over the question of rank, and from what I've seen, Mistress Alison is more than a match for some of our high–born ladies in sense and decorum. You'll have to square it with Master Thomas, of course, but explain that it's purely a legal fiction, except that you'll be providing the dowry for her wedding – evidently the lady is willing enough …

  ROBERT: Ah yes, the dowry. I knew there'd be a snag somewhere.

  JUSTIN: Don't worry, I shan't be unduly demanding in that respect.

  ROBERT: Too kind!

  JUSTIN: Anyway, I'm sure from what I hear of Tom that on those conditions he won't object, so announce the wedding, invite the two idiots at the root of all the trouble – you never know, on such an occasion they might actually be induced to talk to each other like civilised gentlemen instead of quarrelsome schoolboys – and hey presto! The problem's solved, for the time being. And sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

  ROBERT: Hmm. It might actually work. And you know, Justin, I think you must be right. I find myself rather looking forward to your announcing all this to Master Nicholas.

  FADE OUT.

  Back to Contents

  FADE IN THE SAME, LATER

  Robert and Justin are seated, silent, waiting, rather tense. There is a knock at the door.

  ROBERT: Enter!

  Nicholas enters.

  NICHOLAS: You sent for me, my lord?

  ROBERT: Yes, Nicholas. His Lordship has something to say to you. I'm afraid it's bound to be rather a shock, so you'd better be seated.

  NICHOLAS (wondering, nervous): Thank you, my lord.

  JUSTIN: Nicholas, you've been with me for nearly six years now, haven't you?

  NICHOLAS: A little over, my lord.

  JUSTIN: Is it? I must be losing track of time. A sign of old age. Anyway, during those years you have served me moderately well as a page.

  NICHOLAS: I've tried, my lord.

  JUSTIN: I think we'll save time if we drop the "My lord" for the present.

  NICHOLAS: Yes, my … Sorry.

  JUSTIN: Now I think the time is approaching for your position as page to end.

  NICHOLAS: My …!!! (On his dignity) I – I'm very sorry if I've failed to give satisfaction. I've done my best. (Softening) I've looked on you almost as a father – since my own …

  ROBERT (gently): Calm yourself, Nicholas. I think you misunderstand.

  JUSTIN: Yes, Nicholas. The affection is mutual, believe me. I look on you almost as a son. So I've decided to formalise that, and make you my legal heir. I hope you have no objection?

  NICHOLAS: I … I …

  JUSTIN: Yes?

  NICHOLAS: I'm … overwhelmed, my … er, father. I don't know what to say.

  JUSTIN: That makes a change. Well, silence is consent, the lawyers say, so I'll take it that you agree. But that leads on to something else. For reasons too complicated to go into just now, it's essential that you marry. Soon.

  NICHOLAS (hopefully): Yes?

  JUSTIN: You'll realise, as you must always have realised if you ever thought about it, that in your position you will have to marry a lady of noble or at least genteel status.

  NICHOLAS: Oh.

  JUSTIN: So Lord Robert and I have already chosen a suitable bride for you.

  Robert slips quietly out.

  NICHOLAS: You can't –

  JUSTIN: You know very well that this is always how it's done.

  NICHOLAS: I won't. You can't make me!

  JUSTIN: If you're adamantly set against it, that's true. But it seems a little rash, to put it mildly, to refuse the lady without even knowing who she is or what she is like.

  NICHOLAS: I don't care who or what she is. I'm already committed.

  JUSTIN: Do you mean you're secretly married already?

  NICHOLAS: No, I don't mean that. But I've given her my word.

  JUSTIN: Very well. You obviously can't go back on it without her releasing you. Would you ask her to do that?

  NICHOLAS: Certainly not.

  JUSTIN: And I can't force you. But it's extremely inconvenient. We shall have to re–think our course of action completely.

  NICHOLAS: I'm very sorry, my …

  JUSTIN: Meanwhile, she's already in the castle, and will be here in a moment. You’ll have to meet her. And I expect you to treat her with due civility – that's an order.

  NICHOLAS (sullenly): Of course.

  Robert enters with Alison, now dressed as befits a daughter of the house – but not veiled, which would be too much of a cliché. Nicholas stands open–mouthed.

  ROBERT (formally): Master Nicholas Palmer, allow me to present my adopted daughter, Lady Alison Ernscar. (Quietly) Time for us to disappear, Justin.

  They leave, with an amused glance back on the way. Nicholas and Alison react naturally.

  ALISON (half–emerging from the clinch, mock–severe): Nicholas Palmer, is this what you call due civility?

  Back to Contents

  DISSOLVE TO THE YOUNG COUPLE'S NEW HOME, 1439.

  Alison is seated alone, quietly sobbing. Nicholas enters.

  NICHOLAS: What's the matter, love?

  ALISON: Oh, Nick, I'm so glad you're here. I dozed off, and had such a sad dream.

  NICHOLAS: You mustn't upset yourself, dear. You have to take care. Look, your cushions are all disarranged. Let me straighten them for you.

  ALISON: There's no need to fuss quite so much, dear. Pregnancy's a perfectly healthy condition after all.

  NICHOLAS: But dangerous. I keep thinking of what happened to your mother.

  ALISON: That was just bad luck. Our family's never had any other problems with childbirth. Everyone says it was the midwife's fault.

  NICHOLAS: Yes, I've heard about that.

  ALISON (bridling a little): What exactly have you heard?

  NICHOLAS (uncomfortably): Well, that your father wouldn't pay for the proper midwife, and just got an old woman in from the village.

  ALISON (fiercely): I was afraid so. It's a lie!

  NICHOLAS: Sorry, I meant no offence. But how can you know?

  ALISON: Because I believe Dad. He sent for the real midwife, but it was a frosty morning and on the way she slipped and broke her arm. So all he could do was to fetch old Meg from the village. She did her best, but it wasn't good enough.

  NICHOLAS: Then how did the other story get about?

  ALISON: Sheer malice. He doesn't exactly throw his money around, and he'd trodden on a lot of toes with his sarcasm. The servants didn't like him. There was a lot of gossip.

  NICHOLAS: I'd have thought that Cedric and Alice would have put a stop to it. Or the Ernscars, for that matter. And the midwife's broken arm mus
t have been obvious enough.

  ALISON: That could have happened later. Apparently the Ernscars were away at the time, labour had come on suddenly while Gran was visiting my sick aunt, and Grandad had been called out to a problem on the estate. All Lord Robert could say afterwards was that he had no reason whatsoever to doubt Dad's word. But as he says, what chance has the truth against a lie that people want to believe?

  NICHOLAS: I see. Ironic, isn't it, that your father should be pilloried for stinginess on one occasion when he hadn't been.

  ALISON: That's life.

  NICHOLAS: But you said you had a sad dream. Would it help to tell me about it? As much as you can remember.

  CUT TO A FRAMED PAINTING OF A FOREST

  A man and a woman are on separate but roughly parallel paths separated by tangled undergrowth.

  Zoom into the frame. The picture becomes animated in the manner described.

  ALISON (voice-over): Maybe. I'll try. It was rather like looking into one of those paintings you told me about, only people were moving. Two of them were walking along paths in a forest. They got glimpses of each other through the trees and I could see they wanted to come together and I desperately wanted them to, but between the paths was a tangle of briars and creepers that completely barred the way. And then they came to a place where the paths were so overgrown that they had to pick their way carefully and didn't notice that there was nothing between them but a hundred yards of brushwood. I tried to call to them that they could easily get through it, but no sound would come. After that the paths moved apart and they saw each other less and less often, but they couldn't go back, only forward. And then the man came to a great plain of bare rock that he had to cross, and he went on for days and days, and at first there were streams of clear water, and then only dirty puddles, and then nothing at all, until at last he just sat down in despair, and that was that.

  CUT BACK TO ALISON

  She subsides into tears, and Nicholas cuddles her.

  NICHOLAS: There, there, my sweet, it was only a dream. It's over now.

  ALISON: But what does it mean?

  NICHOLAS: I don't suppose it means anything at all. Just something going on in your mind.

  ALISON (with a touch of her usual spirit): So what goes on in my mind is nothing at all, is it?

  NICHOLAS: That's better. No, I meant that it doesn't mean anything outside. It just reflects what you were thinking. Perhaps of what might have happened if we hadn't been able to come together. But we did get through that brushwood. Someone did manage to call to us –

  ALISON: I wonder who.

  NICHOLAS: Who knows? Cedric, perhaps, putting in a good word with their lordships?

  ALISON: No, he'd never interfere like that. Not his place, he'd say.

  NICHOLAS (glancing upwards): Well, thank you, whoever it is. (After a pause) Funny things, dreams.

  ALISON: Aren't they?

  NICHOLAS: I remember one I had once.

  CUT TO THE GARDEN OF NICHOLAS’S DREAM

  The period is indeterminate. Nicholas and Alison are talking unheard, affectionately but sorrowfully.

  NICHOLAS (voice over): It was a couple of months after that day when Lord Robert sent me off to help you make up time I'd wasted, encouragement it seemed. It made me think that everything might turn out all right for us, but then I happened to let drop something about it, and the bishop said that much as they might have wished it in an ideal world, the world was in fact anything but ideal and I'd do better to forget the whole idea.

  ALISON: Do you think he meant it – that he might have wished it for us?

  NICHOLAS: I'm sure of it. After all, look what happened afterwards.

  ALISON: That was just part of their own scheming.

  NICHOLAS: Yes, but they didn't have to go about it that way. Anyway, that's beside the point. I took ages getting to sleep that night, and when I did, of course I dreamed about you – that we were walking together in a garden, but knew that it might well be for the last time. And I was desolate about it.

  DISSOLVE WITHOUT A CHANGE OF SCENE

  Alison has disappeared. Nicholas is sitting dejectedly. Anne appears walking by as he describes.

  NICHOLAS: Then the picture changed, still in the garden, but the woman was quite different.

  ALISON (teasing): Oh yes? So your fancies were wandering already.

  NICHOLAS: No, it wasn't like that at all. I