Priestley Plays Four (8 page)

Read Priestley Plays Four Online

Authors: J. B. Priestley

BOOK: Priestley Plays Four
6.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

SAM:
(Indignantly.)
My enchanter! Look at me! And what have you done with Princess Melicent? Why did you let your nephew bring me here, so that she missed me?

MARLAGRAM:
(Chuckling.)
He outwitted us there, didn’t he? Oh – he’s a smart lad – trained him myself one time. A hard worker too. But then we all are –
he-he-he!
The trouble was, I’d an urgent call to Scotland – some old friends, the Weird Sisters –

SAM: The Macbeth affair, was it?

MARLAGRAM:
(Angrily.)
Who’s been talking?

SAM: I’ll tell you later. But don’t simply tell me how smart your nephew is. Family pride’s all very well – but if you can’t help us – if you’re past it – say so –

MARLAGRAM: Past it! You’re talking like a fool, lad. Bar Merlin – and he’s retired – I’m the best enchanter between here and Orkney.

SAM: Then you must be having an off day.

MARLAGRAM:
(Offended.)
I’m past it. I’m having an off day. Go on, lad. It only needs a few more words from you, and I’ll leave you to it, to get out of this the best way you can.

SAM: Master Marlagram, I apologise. But you can imagine what I’m feeling. Melicent’s gone into my world – and God knows what’s happening to her – and here I am – helpless –

MARLAGRAM: Say no more, lad. And if you don’t mind we’ll do the rest in easy verse:

When things get worse
I take to verse

SAM: But have you time

To make it rhyme?

MARLAGRAM: Things have gone wrong

But not for long

I’ll settle ’em soon

Making a start late this afternoon

SAM: But – surely – man

It ought to be possible to find verses that scan.

MARLAGRAM: I don’t take pains

For men in chains –

SAM: A nasty crack –

You’ll take it back –

MARLAGRAM: No, no, my boy – I like to tease –
(Calling.)

A light – and your attention, please.

Now in light, to audience
.

YOU THINK I’VE MADE A POORISH START

BUT I’LL DO ALL RIGHT IN THE SECOND PART.

Chuckles as curtain comes down
.

End of Act One
.

Act Two

Music as before, ending with modern instrument
.

Private bar of The Black Horse, exactly as before except that light is different – late afternoon instead of morning. Same BARMAID, same MAN as before
.

MAN:
(After a moment or twos rumination.)
Quiet, isn’t it?
(As she does not reply, but not impatiently.)
I say it’s quiet.

BARMAID: I’m not sayin’ anything.

MAN: Why?

BARMAID: Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.

MAN:
(Conceding this.)
That’s ri’.

BARMAID:
(Bursting out.)
My brother Albert says he saw it done at Finsbury Park Empire one time –

MAN: Saw what done?

BARMAID:
(Darkly.)
Vanishing act.

MAN:
(After pause, faintly hopeful.)
Turned out nice again.

BARMAID:
(Casually.)
Can’t expect anything different, thirty-first of June.

The MAN stares at her suspiciously, she returns his glance innocently. He takes out his diary and consults it anxiously, then they exchange the same looks. Enter MALGRIM dressed as he was in previous scene here
.

MALGRIM:
(Brisk and authoritative.)
Twelve glasses of Benedictine and cold milk.

BARMAID:
(Staring at him, staggered.)
Benedictine and cold milk! Twelve glasses?

MALGRIM: Twelve. The bacteriological section of our medical conference is meeting here.

BARMAID:
(Still staring at him.)
’Ere – didn’t you come in this morning – drink a whole bottle of creem de menthy – and then go through the wall?

MALGRIM: I did.

The BARMAID gives a faint moan and disappears from sight
.

MAN: I fancy she’s a bit off-colour today.

MALGRIM:
(With authority.)
So are you, my friend. Just look up, will you?

As MAN looks up, MALGRIM makes a quick pass, and the MAN stands staring up, rigid. MALGRIM now concentrates on the wall, mutters some spell and makes signs at it. Stage darkens for a moment and rushing wind sound is heard. When it lights up again, the wall is open, as it was at end of scene in Act One, but standing in entrance is MARLAGRAM, chuckling in triumph
.

MARLAGRAM: He-he-he-he! Surprised you, didn’t I, my boy?

MALGRIM: Showy – but cheap as usual Uncle. You really ought to retire from serious work, y’know. All right for childrens’ parties and that sort of thing –

MARLAGRAM: I’ll give you childrens’ parties – you conceited young pup! And don’t try to ask for any help from
Aghizikke
and
Balturzasas
, or any of that group o’ demons, ’cos I fixed them with a pentacle this afternoon – he-he-he-he!

MALGRIM:
(Contemptuously.)
I know you did. Too obvious, my dear Uncle. So I moved, with a cat and bat, to
Akibeec
and
Berkaiac
and their group. Want a trial of strength?
(As MARLAGRAM comes out into room, leaving passage in wall open behind him.)
No, I thought not. No decent strategy, no proper planning. You realise I’m now a move ahead of you?

MARLAGRAM: No I don’t.

MALGRIM: Of course I am. If you go back to Peradore, then you leave me here to meet Princess Melicent.

MARLAGRAM: I’m not going to do that, my boy.

MALGRIM: Very well. Then you stay here, I return to Peradore, and there I’m a move ahead of you.
(Moves towards opening in wall.)
I’ll have Merlin’s brooch yet – you’ll see.

MARLAGRAM: You can’t close that wall after you, though. Like to try?

MALGRIM:
(Turning at opening.)
Why should I bother? Waste of effort.
(As he goes.)
I’m a move ahead of you.

MARLAGRAM:
(To himself.)
He is too. Smart lad – but too pleased with himself.

He moves restlessly, obviously trying to plan something. In one of these moves he can casually push the still rigid MAN out of the way as if he is a piece of furniture. A flap underneath bar counter opens, and the BARMAID, dazed, comes creeping through. She stands up straight, still dazed, stares at MARLAGRAM, then at the MAN, then at opening in wall
.

BARMAID:
(Faintly.)
Oh – my godfather!
(To MARLAGRAM.)
Look – could you drink twelve glasses of Benedictine and milk?

MARLAGRAM: No. Never touch milk.

BARMAID:
(Still dazed.)
Cheery-bye then!

She totters out through the opening in the wall. MARLAGRAM gives the MAN a tap, then goes under bar counter and appears behind it
.

MAN: ’Ere, what’s wrong with my eyes?

MARLAGRAM: They’re looking at nothing – out of nothing. You haven’t been alive for years. What are you drinking?

MAN:
(Gloomily.)
Mild ale.

MARLAGRAM: You’ve been drowning yourself. He-he-he-he! What you need is a pint of dragon’s blood. Here!
(He produces a pint glass mug filled with crimson liquid. The MAN takes it.)
Drink that – and come to life. Millions of you crawling about, just waiting for free coffins. Dip your nose into that – and tell me what day it is.

MAN: I’ll take a chance.
(He drinks, then coming to life, grins broadly.)
By crikey – they were right. It’s the thirty-first of June.

MARLAGRAM: That’s more like it – he-he-he-he!

Enter MELICENT and PHILIP
.

PHILIP:
(Talking as they enter.)
I’m not saying you’re not a very nice girl, duckie – and probably just right for Sam – but the fact remains you’ve finished me with television for at least the next two years –

MELICENT:
(Seeing him.)
Oh – Master Marlagram – I’m so glad to see you. Hurry up and take me back to real life.

MARLAGRAM: We’re off in one minute.

MAN:
(To Philip.)
What you want’s a drop of this dragon’s blood. Then you won’t care if you’ve finished with television for ever.
(To MARLAGRAM.)
Another pint o’ dragons, please!

MARLAGRAM:
(Producing it.)
There you are! Ready for off, girl? Watch it then. Here it comes.

PHILIP:
(Holding up a cigarette.)
Would you mind giving me a light for my cigarette?

MARLAGRAM:
This is it!

He sets off a powerful green or red flare, and the roaring wind noise is heard. In the glare and smoke, MELICENT goes through the wall, which closes behind her, while MARLAGRAM simply disappears behind bar. When smoke has cleared, MAN and PHILIP are left staring at each other, both holding their pint glasses
.

PHILIP:
(Dazed.)
Cheers!
(He drinks.)

MAN: All the best!
(He drinks.)

PHILIP:
(Trying to cope with the situation.)
Er – what – er –
(He looks round in a kind of despair, and makes a few more vague noises.)

MAN:
(Cheerfully.)
Turned out nice again, hasn’t it?

PHILIP:
(Still dazed.)
Has it?

MAN:
(Cheerfully.)
Can’t expect anything different, though, can you – thirty-first of June?

He takes a long pull at his drink while PHILIP stares at him and then finally, still in a dazed fashion, drinks himself. We begin to hear the laughter that opens next scene as this one fades out
.

SCENE TWO

Room in castle, as in Act One, but light is different. KING, CAPT. PLUNKET and DIMMOCK are sitting drinking, with herald or LAMISON in attendance as cupbearer. KING is dressed as before, CAPT. P. is in medieval costume without armour, and DIMMOCK is exactly as he was in Act One. They are in high spirits, roaring with laughter, and already rather tight
.

KING:
(As laughter subsides.)
We used to know rather a good one – the one about the three chapmen who met in Camelot. Can’t quite remember it all – but remind us to tell it to you next time we meet. Cupbearer!

CUPBEARER fills the tankards as talk continues
.

CAPT. P.: Talking about remembering, your Majesty, I’ve just remembered something.

KING: So have I.
(Pointing to DIMMOCK.)
He’s the second fella I’ve seen today not properly dressed. Other fella’s in the dungeon. Wanted our daughter.

CAPT. P.: I’ve just remembered that Dimmock and I have a scheme.

KING: Who’s Dimmock?

DIMMOCK: I’m Dimmock, sir.

KING: Then you’re not properly dressed, Dimmock. What did you say you had, Sir Skip?

CAPT. P.: A scheme, your Majesty – a plan – a device – an idea. Bags of money in it.

KING: Bags of money? Where?

DIMMOCK: In this scheme, your Majesty.

KING: I doubt it. Doesn’t seem to me to be anything in it. Unless of course Dimmock knows more than you do.

DIMMOCK: I
am
Dimmock.

KING: Well, how far does that take us? No, we’ve turned down hundreds of ideas better than that. It lacks body. Cupbearer!
(He motions him to fill up again.)
This wine has some body in it. Your scheme hasn’t. That’s the difference.

DIMMOCK:
(To CAPT. P.)
Your turn. I give up.

CAPT. P.:
(Impressively.)
Your Majesty – I beg leave to drink to your health and happiness and the continued prosperity of your kingdom of Peradore.
(Drinks.)

KING: Much obliged, Sir Skip – though we must point out that our kingdom of Peradore is anything but prosperous –

CAPT. P.: But Dimmock and I are ready to bring you bags and bags and bags of money –

KING: That’s better. Have you a scheme?

CAPT. P.: Yes, sir. Now – where we come from, everybody wants to go somewhere else –

KING: Why?

CAPT. P.: Just for a change and a rest from our wonderful way of life.

DIMMOCK: Everybody saves money to visit some other country.

CAPT. P.: And we think they ought to come here – to Peradore –

DIMMOCK: Conducted tours – see the castles – see the knights – see the dragons –

CAPT. P.: We’ll have to have one of your enchanters working for us, of course, looking after the transport –

DIMMOCK: Then the money’d come rolling in –

KING: To me? No, of course not.

DIMMOCK: Your Majesty could have a seat on the board and a nice holding of the original stock –

KING: Boards and stocks? Don’t know what you’re talking about. What about those bags and bags of money?

CAPT. P.: You do what our rulers do. As soon as people have money, you take it away from them in taxes –

KING: Taxes? Nonsense! A guilder here – a groat or two there – we know about taxes –

DIMMOCK: But on our plan you take half they’ve got – or three-quarters –

CAPT. P.: You charge ’em for all the castles – administration and security – for having a roof over their head – for their clothes and their beds – for the roads and the paths –

KING:
(Derisively.)
And for the air they’re breathing – eh?

DIMMOCK: Well, that’s new – but you might get away with it – worth trying –

KING:
(In a passion.)
Worth trying! Might get away with it! Why – you impudent, greedy scoundrels – we’ll have you flogged for talking such stuff to us. Cupbearer, summon the guard.
(As Cupbearer hastens to door to bring guards, who are the two SOLDIERS we saw before.)
Fellas here have been hanged, drawn and quartered for doing less than you’re asking me to do. We wouldn’t treat even cannibal heathens and one-eyed pigmies in such a scurvily devouring fashion. There isn’t a prince in Christendom who’d consent to listen to such evil counsel – and most of ’em would spill your foul brains on the stones.
(To the SOLDIERS.)
Take these rogues into custody – and if they speak a single word, knock ’em on the head –

FIRST SOLDIER: What, Majesty – our captain too, Sir Skip?

KING: He’s no longer your captain – but a rogue and a vagabond, like the other fella. Take ’em away.

Other books

Dead End by Brian Freemantle
Chaos by David Meyer
Riot Girl by Laura J Whiskens
Carousel Sun by Sharon Lee
Alphas Unleashed 3 by Cora Wolf
Signal to Noise by Silvia Moreno-Garcia
The Harlot’s Pen by Claudia H Long
Midnight Train to Paris by Juliette Sobanet