The Libertine
John I have that feeling too. I’ve met this woman. Lizzie Barry.
Jane That new actress? She ain’t no looker.
John There is spirit in her.
Jane When a gent sees the spirit and not the eyes or the tits, then a gent is in trouble.
John Would you call me a cynic, Jane?
Jane I would call you a man who pretends to like life more than he does.
John Is that a cynic?
Jane I’m just a moll-sack. I don’t do questions.
John If I am a cynic, how have I fallen in love with a plain woman, whom I do not know?
Jane You saw her on stage. All the colours and them poems they say. Gives them a glow. You’ve seen her out of the theatre?
John No.
Jane Well, then it’s not her. It’s the theatre. That, or. . .
John Or what?
Jane They say men fall three times. First is calf love. Second is the one you marry.
John And third?
Jane Third. . . Third is your deathbed bride. You sniff her, you sniff your own shroud.
John Ah. How you have cheered me.
Jane Go home and sleep.
John I don’t want to sleep.
Jane Then go home and think.
John I don’t ever want to think again.
Jane John. Don’t make me care for you. I’d rather you came your fetch over my face than leave me with that, a lump of caring. Now go home and forget.
John (voice) Much wine had passed with grave discourse Of who fucks who and who does worse. When I, who still take care to see Drunkenness relieved by lechery, Went our into St. James’s Park To cool my head and fire my heart. But though St. James has the honour on’t, ‘Tis consecrate to prick and cunt. There, by a most incestuous birth, Strange woods spring from the teeming earth. And nightly now, beneath their shade, Are buggeries, rapes and incests made.
John Mr Huysmans. Perhaps a bottle and a glass would be handsome adornments to your composition?
Mr Huysmans They are not appropriate objects in a family portrait, my lord.
John Mr Huysmans, here is another thought. You see that monkey yonder dancing to the fiddle? Can’t help but notice how human these creatures are. I would sit that monkey on a pile of solemn volumes, and place in her hand a scrap of paper as if it were a poem she’d just written, do you see? And while she is offering the poem to me, I am crowning her with the bays.
Mr Huysmans I find Lady Rochester a more elegant and interesting subject.
John You are wide of the point, sir. Elegance, interest, all very well in their way. But what do they illuminate?
Elizabeth Am I not then an apt partner for you to sit with?
John You are apt, Elizabeth. You are very apt.
Elizabeth But you would rather be painted with a monkey?
John It is of a muchness. You are both apt in your different ways. In this portrait I am no better than a monkey who knows the names of his ancestors.
Elizabeth And I?
John A gaudy female monkey, gloating over the opulence of your cage. I love London. Everyone catches it’s generous spirit so quickly.
Alcock Indeed.
John I do not mean to upset people, Alcock, but I have to speak my mind, because what is in my mind is always more interesting than what is happening in the world outside my mind.
Alcock Makes you impossible to live with, though, do you see?
John Did I once praise you for your blunt manner?
Alcock It was your reason for employing me.
John It could as easy be your grounds for dismissal. Now, get me the monkey.
Elizabeth John. John, I would bear our marriage more easily if there were no pretence. If I were merely a housekeeper and a conduit for the noble line. But when you’re away you write so beguilingly of how you love me and. . . I do not think you mean to torture me, but it is a torture to be informed of passion from a distance and then in the flesh to be so reviled.
John You know I always mean to be well when we are together, but after a few weeks, I find I have no gift for it. In my mind I am somewhere else.
Elizabeth Then cut me out of your heart completely and have done.
John Do not command me to do something beyond my power.
Elizabeth Is the fault mine? If I were a batter wife. . . would you not need the whorehouse and the inn?
John Every man needs the whorehouse and the inn.
Elizabeth But it’s not the inn or a whore that I see in your eyes. It’s some other creature. The playhouse.
John An actress.
Elizabeth And when your eyes shone the other day, they were shining for her.
John They were.
Elizabeth I see I am more of an obstacle to your London life than I supposed. I’ll be gone by the morning.
Alcock My lord.
John How is Ophelia in this scene?
Lizzie Well, she’s mad. She’s out of her wits.
John There are many ways to be out of your wits.
Lizzie Yes. There’s grief.
John And drink.
Lizzie And love.
John So I hear. These different states, how would you show them?
Lizzie Show them?
John Their physical manifestation. Close your eyes. Close your eyes.
Lizzie O, what a noble mind is here overthrown. The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s, eye, tongue, sword, and I. . .
John Again.
Lizzie O, what a noble mind is here overthrown. The courtier’s, soldier’s. . .
John Again.
Lizzie O, what a noble mind is here overthrown. The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s, eye. . .
John Again.
Lizzie . . . eye, tongue, sword. . .
John Again!
Lizzie O, what a noble mind is here overthrown. The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s. . .
John Again.
Lizzie What was wrong?
John You know what was wrong. Again.
Molly She has done this speech twenty times this afternoon.
John And she will do it twenty more.
Molly No-one has worked like this in the history of the theatre.
John Exactly.
Lizzie O, what a noble mind is here overthrown. The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s, eye, tongue, sword, and I. . . of ladies most deject and wretched. . . that sucked the honey of his music vows. O, what a noble mind is here overthrown. The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s, eye, tongue, sword, and I. . . of ladies most deject and wretched. . . that sucked the honey of his music vows. O, woe is me. To see what I have seen. O, see what I see. And there’s some fennel for you and columbine. And there’s rue for you. And here’s some for me. We may call it herb of grace o’ Sundays. O, but you must wear the rue with a difference. He is gone. He is gone. And we. . . cast away, moan. God have mercy on his soul. And of ye Christian souls. . .
George No-one likes a clever bastard.
Lizzie I pray God. God be wi’ ye.
Mr Harris Well, Lizzie, my congratulations.
Lizzie Thank you, Mr Harris.
Mr Harris Will you take the air with me? I was thinking. . . a drink. Lord Rochester left at the curtain.
Lizzie Then I shall take the air alone. Good night.
Driver Go on!
Alcock My lord.
John Hurry!
Elizabeth John.
John Madam, this driveway will not do.
Elizabeth Good afternoon, my lord. You sent no warning of your arrival.
