大象传媒

Ambridge goes Restoration comedy in this entertaining parody, originally contributed to the Fantasy Archers topic of the Archers message board

Dramatis Personae

Sir Novelty Corkscrew, Master of Lower Loxley Hall.
Lady Eliza Corkscrew, his wife.
Luckless, a gambling veterinarian.
Shula, his wife.
Matthew Crafty, a land agent and card sharp.
Will Earnest, a country lad.
Emma, his love, a barmaid.
Sir Rakewell Bounder, a reformed cad.
Mr. Layabout Wastrel, an unreformed rake, brother to Shula and employer of Emma.
Reverend Thunderer, the parson of Ambridge.
Greg Surly, gamekeeper to Sir Rakewell.
Volauvent, manservant to Sir Novelty.
Servants, tailors, villagers, bodgers, badgers etc.

The Setting

In and around the village of AMBRIDGE in Borsetshire, in the year of Our Lord Sixteen Hundred and Ninety Two.

Scene 1 Lower Loxley

Enter SIR NOVELTY and VOLAUVENT.

VOLAUVENT: I am most apologetic, sir, but Lady Corkscrew was very firm about the perspective glass. You are not to 'ave it back until she can be sure of what type of birds you are using it to view.
NOVELTY: Egad! I tell you, Volauvent, it comes to something when a gentleman may not view God's delightful creations for the want of a glass - and a trusting wife. Strike me senseless if 'tis not so! [claps a hand to his brow]
VOL: Indeed, sir, you speak very truly. But is there nothing I can do to ease your distress? Per'aps a new suit?
NOV: 'Tis very kind of you, Volauvent, dammee it is, but I fear there is nothing. Although聟 yes!
VOL: Sir?
NOV: I shall do some bodging. Stab me vitals, indeed I shall! Volauvent, call my man! [VOL does so]
NOV: [to audience] Why, a fine idea! There is nothing better to while away the time and relieve the stresses than a little bodging. For one must be of some practical use in this world. I am decorative, of course - why, I do declare there are none prettier than I in all of Borsetshire, slit me windpipe! But 'tis not enough merely to be decorative unless one is at court. [His BODGER enters, carrying wood, tools etc.]
Ah! Excellent. Volauvent! My bodging chair! [VOL brings forth the chair, and NOV arranges himself in it elegantly]
Now! I think we shall make a pretty little footstool today. Very well - you may begin.
BOD: If it please you, sir, how many legs are we to have? Three or four?
NOV: Why - are you not satisfied with the two God gave you man? Ahaha!
VOL: Oh! Such wit! Such brilliance! And at such an early hour!
NOV: Thank you, Volauvent. Strike me senseless, but I do declare there are few could be so bright at such an early hour as eleven in the morning.
BOD: Sir?
NOV: Well, rogue?
BOD: The legs.
NOV: Are they not fine? Why, Mistress Woolley did compliment me on my well turned ankles only yesterday!
BOD: The stool, sir.
NOV: Stool, sir? What stool? Are ye mad? What are you talking about? Volauvent, the man is blathering!
VOL: The stool that you are bodging. 'Ow many legs are you to have? Trois, or quatre?
NOV: Oh. Must we be so conventional? Let us have five.
BOD: Very good, sir. [He begins to work on the stool, whilst NOV watches]
NOV: [taking out his kerchief and mopping his brow] Egad! This bodging is very tiring. I am quite fagged.

Scene 2 The Stables

It is late at night. On stage SHULA, in nightdress, standing in shadow. Enter LUCKLESS, somewhat inebriated, without wig or coat.

LUCK: Alas! Undone! What's to be done? Ohhh聟 [clutches at his head] What's to be done?
[SHU steps forward into light].
SHU: Well, sir!
LUCK: [Startled, but rallying magnificently] Madam?
SHU: 'Tis a late hour to come home. I was about to give you up for lost, have the servants lock up and set the hound loose for the night. 'Twould have been a pretty matter if my husband had been taken by the scruff by Scruff!
LUCK: What, Madam? No concern? Not send lights to find me?
SHU: You seem quite capable of guarding your own person, sir. Leastwise, so you would have us believe. Where were you, sir? [sniffs his breath] A' drinking, sir? Carousing with thy fellows?
LUCK: Madam! I must protest!
SHULA: Where is your coat? Where your periwig? Will you display your shining pate to all the world? Would you have the village take you for a dupe?
LUCK: I was called out, madam. I had to attend to a cow at Brookfield. 'Twas a hard business and I shed my wig and coat聟 though I do not see why I should explain myself, for it beseems you not to question your spouse!
SHU: Brookfield, sir?
LUCK: Aye, madam, Brookfield.
SHU: And when was this, pray?
LUCK: Did begin some three hours ago.
SHU: Indeed? Then 'tis strange that when Ruth called upon me not two hour ago she did not mention your presence.
LUCK: Goody Archer called upon you two hours ago?
SHU: Indeed, sir, she did. With news that was most strange to my ears. Did not you borrow money from my brother? You cannot deny it.
LUCK: 'Twas a mere trifle, madam.
SHU: Two hundred pound?! Indeed, sir, I call it a very pretty trifle! Wherefore did you do this?
LUCK: There was some small matter for which I did not have the ready specie to hand. 'Tis nothing to concern yourself with, my dear聟.
SHU: But I do, sir! And earlier today, I spoke with Grundy who is owed money by you and has not had it paid? How so, sir?
LUCK: 'Twas a mere lapse of memory, nothing more. It shall be done - I shall see to it directly on the morrow.
SHU: Shall you, sir? Are your certain you have the money?
LUCK: Madam? What mean you this?
SHU: Only that I am allowed no more credit with the shop. Only that a promissory note was returned because our agent said it could not be paid!
LUCK: Ah. Yes聟
SHU: Where were you, sir? [LUCK struggles for a moment, and then defiantly says:]
LUCK: With Mr. Matthew Crafty. At cards.
SHU: Indeed, sir. Then you sleep tonight with the servants. [She turns and sweeps out]

Read Part Two