NELL. Spaniels.
ARLINGTON. Spaniels?
NELL. You could walk the dogs.
ARLINGTON. Walk the dogs? But there are nineteen of them!
NELL. Twenty-two.
CHARLES. Oliver Cromwell took us all by surprise and popped out triplets this morning, little bitch!
ARLINGTON. Sir.
CHARLES. It’s your choice, Arley.
Pause.
ARLINGTON. Where are they?
NELL. In the parlour. And they’re very excited. They haven’t been walked for days.
He leaves.
Scene Eight
Meanwhile, Back at the Playhouse
DRYDEN hasn’t finished his play, so the actors are in a last-minute rehearsal for Etherege’s She Would if She Could. NED plays Courtall, HART plays Freeman, KYNASTON (dressed as a lady) is waiting to enter and NANCY is learning the maid’s part. DRYDEN sits at the side, scribbling miserably. Tensions are high.
KILLIGREW. And again from the top, thank you, Mr Hart.
HART. ‘Good day, Mr Courtall.’
NED. ‘Well, Frank, what is to be done today?’
HART. ‘Faith, I think we must follow the old trade, eat well and prepare ourselves with a bottle or two of good burgundy.’
KILLIGREW. And enter Nancy.
NANCY enters from the side, walking sideways, staring out terrified at the imagined audience as she keeps her front entirely to them. She walks as she talks.
NANCY. ‘Sir, there is a gentle/woman – ’
KILLIGREW. Nancy, don’t walk and talk at the same time. Make your entrance. Place yourself then say the line.
NANCY. Do I have to do it again?
KILLIGREW. This is a re-hearsal. Re. Hearse. And again. Enter servant.
She re-enters.
NANCY (very quietly). ‘Sir, there is a / gentlewoman – ’
KILLIGREW. Can’t hear you.
NANCY. ‘Sir, there is / a – ’
KILLIGREW. Speak up!
NANCY (shouting). ‘SIR, THERE IS A GENTLEWOMAN BELOW DESIRES TO SPEAK WITH YOU!’ (Makes a dramatic about-turn and walks off.
HART. ‘A gentlewoman? Ha! This may be some lucky adventure.’
Beat. The actors wait.
KILLIGREW. Nancy.
NANCY (reappearing). Sir?
KILLIGREW. Why did you leave the stage?
NANCY. I’d said my line.
KILLIGREW. What about your next line?
NANCY. I can come back on for that.
KILLIGREW. It’s the same conversation.
NANCY. So do you want me to / stay?
KILLIGREW. Just say it! Say the damned line!
NANCY. What is it?
HART. ‘She asked me if you were alone!’
NANCY (mimicking HART). ‘She asked me if you were alone!’
She begins to exit. HART catches her by the arm.
HART. ‘And did not you say aye?’
NANCY. ‘I told her I would go see.’
HART. ‘Go, go down quickly, and tell her I am here.’
The actors wait. No one moves.
KILLIGREW (dangerously quietly). Nancy.
NANCY. Sir?
KILLIGREW. That’s your cue.
NANCY. I don’t have any more lines, sir.
KILLIGREW. Your cue to leave. Let’s do it again, shall we? And when you hear the word ‘Go’, you go! Understand?
NANCY. Yes, sir.
KYNASTON. I’m dying out here.
KILLIGREW. Mr Hart. From ‘Go’.
NANCY goes to exit.
Not yet, you imbecile!
NANCY. But you said go!
KILLIGREW. From his ‘Go’!
NANCY (increasingly upset). Right!
KILLIGREW. Mr Hart, from your cue.
HART. ‘Go – ’
NANCY goes.
KILLIGREW. Wait!
NANCY. But you said –
KILLIGREW. At the end of his line!
NANCY. Right!
KILLIGREW. Do it again!
HART. ‘Go, go down quickly, and tell her I am here.’
NANCY checks nervously and then goes.
‘Enter!’
Enter KYNASTON, dramatically, as Mistress Sentry.
‘Mistress Sentry!’
KYNASTON. ‘Your humble servant.’ Now, about this entrance.
KILLIGREW. What about it? You just walk on.
KYNASTON. Just walk on?! Good God, anyone would think it were as simple as walking through a door. Tell me, what is the door made of?
KILLIGREW. Why?
KYNASTON. Because it makes every difference to Camelia.
NED. Who’s Camelia?
KYNASTON. Camelia Sentry.
DRYDEN. Since when has she got a first name?
KILLIGREW. She’s just a / servant.
KYNASTON. You see if the doorway is ash, fine. Beech, willow, even conifer, no problem. But if it is oak… Well! You see, what you don’t know about Camelia is that once, at the tender age of eight and a half, she found herself imprisoned on a Spanish vessel in the middle of the North Atlantic –
KILLIGREW. Edward.
KYNASTON. – when a mob of filthy pirates took hold of her father’s ship. Poor Camelia was left on her own in the hold until, fashioning a coracle out of an oaken barrel with her very own dainty little hands, late one Tuesday night –
KILLIGREW. Edward!
KYNASTON. – she escaped and sailed the ocean under the stars, with just a piece of cheese and the ship’s cook Ronaldo for company. And that is why, ever since, whenever young Camelia passes oak, she will remember that time and momentarily lose herself in the memory of the barrel under the stars.
KILLIGREW. Jesus Christ.
KYNASTON. Never underestimate the power of a backstory, Mr Killigrew!
KILLIGREW. Enough. Enough! This is a disaster. Nancy doesn’t know it, Kynaston’s obsessed with a giant lump of wood, and… and…
HART. Say it.
Beat. They all stop. They know what’s coming.
Say it! (Pause.) We can’t do it without Nell.
Scene Nine
Royal Flush
We move forward in time several years, and find ourselves outside. Spring has sprung. CHARLES is playing Pall Mall (croquet) on the lawn with NELL. NELL takes a hit. She misses.
CHARLES. Nell!
NELL. Hey – I hit it straight!
CHARLES. Of course you did, that’s why it’s gone off round the corner.
NELL. It was the wind! Unless you’ve weighted them – have you weighted them? You cheat!
CHARLES. There’s nothing suspect about my balls, madam. Give me the mallet.
NELL (handing it over). I’m rather fond of your old balls.
CHARLES. Old? I fear the whole of me is getting old.
Game play continues as they talk.
James will destroy this when I’m gone.
NELL. You don’t know that.
CHARLES. It’s inevitable. He doesn’t think! And Lord knows he won’t be told.
NELL. It’s your shot.
CHARLES. He will spend until there’s nothing left, then what choice will he have but to recall Parliament. And once he does – they won’t condone a Catholic. One almost wonders what’s the point. The pendulum swings – a new king, a new cause, then round and round again. It makes me feel quite melancholy.
NELL. Who cares what happens next? You won’t be here to see it.
CHARLES. Well, thank you for cheering me up. I’d like to be remembered well.
NELL. Why?
CHARLES. Because it matters.
NELL. No it doesn’t.
CHARLES. ‘Britain’s finest actress.’ You must want people to know.
NELL. Why? They never saw me. Why should I give a fig? It’s only now that matters. It’s no wonder I miss the playhouse.
CHARLES. What’s it to do with the playhouse?
NELL. Cos that’s all there is in a play. That moment. London could be burning down –
/> CHARLES. Not again.
NELL. Or the Thames could rise. But just for that moment, we’re all there, us and the crowd and it’s all that exists. And it fills us. (Pauses and witnesses it.) And then it’s gone. And it can never be again. And then – it’s someone else’s moment.
CHARLES. Come with me tonight.
NELL. I can’t go back.
CHARLES. It’s a comedy.
NELL. I’m taking Charlie to see the peacocks, he’s rather fond of them.
CHARLES. You’ll have to go sometime.
NELL. It’s your turn.
CHARLES takes a shot.
CHARLES. The things they said to you –
NELL. They can’t take them back.
CHARLES. Nelly, they’re actors – they’re emotional. And you’re a little too proud.
CHARLES kisses her.
Now give me some space – this will be a shot to remember.
He hits the ball in.
And that is what you call a royal flush!
NELL. My turn.
CHARLES. It’s sixteen–nil.
NELL. You know I like a challenge. I’m going to kick your royal behind.
CHARLES. I look forward to it.
NELL turns away from him. As she lines the ball up, he grabs his chest – he has no voice to cry out.
NELL. And you won’t even see it coming. Set the shot, line it up. And –
She hits the ball, hole in one. He collapses.
Boom! It went in. It went in! Look at that, Charles!
She whips round to celebrate with him. CHARLES is on the floor having an apoplectic fit.
Charles!
CHARLES. I can’t breathe.
NELL (shouting). The King is ill! The King is ill! (To CHARLES.) Charlie.
CHARLES. Help me.
NELL. Help! Help!
ATTENDANTS turn up.
ATTENDANT. Call the physician!
NELL. He just collapsed.
ATTENDANT. Your Majesty?
NELL. Charles!
CHARLES (fading). My Nelly…
NELL (to CHARLES). Don’t you talk like that –
ATTENDANT (to another). Get her out of here.
NELL. Get off me…
ATTENDANT. Take her away.
NELL. He needs me! (As they’re pulling her out.) Charles! Charlie!
Exeunt. She is pulled away. He is carried out in the opposite direction.
Scene Ten
As Charles Lies Dying
NELL sits alone on a bench in a corridor. She is numb. ROSE arrives, walking with a crutch.
ROSE. Nell?
NELL. –
ROSE. No news?
NELL shakes her head. ROSE sits next to her. She unwraps a bun and offers it to NELL.
Here.
NELL. –
ROSE. It’s got honey in it. Your favourite. You’re wasting away. Here, just a morsel.
NELL eats a little bit.
Better?
NELL (nods. Pauses). How’s my boy?
ROSE. Noisy. He’s been building a fortress for the spaniels.
Pause.
Nell, they’ve sent the priest in.
NELL didn’t know. It hits her hard.
NELL. A French duke he’s never met’s allowed in. Every one of his courtiers. My own son. But not me.
ROSE. I didn’t know you loved him.
They sit in silence. ROSE takes NELL’s hand. NELL tries to keep it together. ARLINGTON passes with two ATTENDANTS.
Sir?
The ATTENDANTS pass, but ARLINGTON pauses and turns back to NELL. She meets his gaze. It’s obvious that CHARLES is dead.
ARLINGTON. The King is dead, madam. Long live the King.
NELL (through tears, numb). Did he suffer?
ARLINGTON. He was quite peaceful.
ROSE. And did he say anything? At the end?
ARLINGTON doesn’t answer.
Sir? (Pause.) What did he say?
ARLINGTON. He said… ‘Don’t let poor Nelly starve.’
A bell tolls.
Scene Eleven
Ensemble Again
Some weeks later. NANCY stands on stage, playing Valeria, opposite NED, who is waiting for his line in DRYDEN’s new play Tyrranick Love. The rest of the company are watching. NANCY is terrible. The situation is desperate.
NANCY. ‘Let me be just before I go away. Placenterous – ’
NED. Placidius!
NANCY. ‘Plass…’
KILLIGREW. Again.
NANCY. ‘Before I go away – Preposterous – ’
NED. Placidius!
NANCY. ‘Plass… dous. I have vowed to… I have vowed to…’
KILLIGREW. Nancy. What has she vowed?
NANCY is frozen.
To be his wife! To be his wife! It is the crux of the play, remember! AGAIN! Perhaps with some semblance of feeling this time!
NANCY. ‘Placidius! I have vowed to be your wife.’
KILLIGREW. YES!
NANCY. ‘Take then my hand, ’tis yours while I have wife.’
KILLIGREW. LIFE!
NANCY. Life!
NED. That was better though.
KILLIGREW. No, it wasn’t!
NANCY. You’ll have to get someone else.
KILLIGREW. But there is no one else.
NELL walks in at the back, still in mourning dress.
NED. What about –
NANCY (seeing her). Nell!
KILLIGREW. Nell? (Turning round to see her.) NELL!
NELL. Nan – you’re in the play?!
KILLIGREW. When she remembers to come on.
NANCY. I hate it.
DRYDEN. We didn’t know if you’d come back.
NELL. Nor did I. Sorry it took me so long.
KILLIGREW. And we are sorry – for your loss.
HART. Yes. We all are.
NELL. Thank you. What’s this then?
NED. Mr Dryden’s new play, Tyrranick Love.
DRYDEN. It’s a tragedy.
KILLIGREW. Sort of.
DRYDEN. It’s a tragedy… with jokes in. Not my idea.
KYNASTON. It’s all right, they’re not funny.
DRYDEN. It’s about St Catherine.
NELL. Oh.
DRYDEN. I wrote it for you.
NELL. John.
DRYDEN. I hoped you might come back.
NANCY. It’s been dead boring without you.
HART. None of the drama.
KYNASTON. It has been a little dull.
NELL’s taken aback by KYNASTON’s minor turnaround.
DRYDEN. Please. Thomas, ask her back. She’d be marvellous.
KILLIGREW. But she hasn’t been on for an age. And Nancy’s persevering.
DRYDEN. Nancy’s killing it! Sorry, but my play is expiring in front of my eyes like the Black Death!
KYNASTON. Too soon.
NANCY. Do it, please, I bloody hate acting.
NELL. It’s been too long. I’d never / remember –
DRYDEN. Of course you’d remember. It’s just acting.
KYNASTON. WHAT?!
NED. Please.
NELL (looking to KILLIGREW). I’m not sure it’s up to me.
DRYDEN (to KILLIGREW). Say you’ll have her back.
NELL. Mr Killigrew?
KILLIGREW. I don’t know. It’s a risk. Your voice won’t be on form, who knows what the public’ll make of it.
NELL. Sir. I’d work hard.
KILLIGREW. Would you?
NELL nods.
And you wouldn’t be late? Or miss a rehearsal?
NELL. I promise.
HART. Sir, say yes.
NED. Please, sir.
NANCY. Say it, say it, for the love of Christopher Columbus, just ask her back!
KILLIGREW. Well. Would you come back?
NELL. Yes. Yes, absolutely.
Pause. They all watch KILLIGREW as he makes his decision.
KILLIGREW. Then welcome back.
Jubilation.
NELL. Wait – i
f I do, please – let me play a small part.
KILLIGREW. But you must play St Catherine – she’s the lead.
NELL. I just need time. I’d like to learn again. And I’d like to play a serious part. I haven’t done that before.
KILLIGREW. But we don’t have a Catherine.
KYNASTON. Let me do it.
NELL. Let Kynaston do it.
KILLIGREW. What?
KYNASTON. WHAT?!
NELL. The King would have approved. I’m sure of it.
KILLIGREW (to KYNASTON). Well? Would you?
KYNASTON. I’ll consider it. (Beat.) I’ve considered it. I’ll do it!
NELL. You’ll be superb.
KYNASTON. I’ll be astonishing! St Catherine will be noble, transcendent, she will transform the theatrical landscape, she will recast the path of history, she will make grown men weep. I must prepare. I will set this part on fire! (Exits.)
NANCY. Does he know she burns to death?
DRYDEN. I don’t think so, no.
KILLIGREW. Ned, you can tell him.
NED. What? Why me?
KILLIGREW. You can run faster than the rest of us.
NED exits.
We’ll begin tomorrow. Dryden, fetch Nell her role.
DRYDEN. Ah yes, I will just need to finish it.
KILLIGREW. You said you’d done it.
DRYDEN. I have. Except the epilogue.
KILLIGREW. Dryden!
DRYDEN. It’s the hardest bit, the play’s ended, I’ve said what I have to say but the bastards still want more.
NELL. Who speaks it?
DRYDEN. You should.
NELL. Then do you think… might I write it?
KILLIGREW. You?
DRYDEN. In character?
NELL. No. As myself. I’ve spent years speaking other people’s words, but never my own. I’d like to speak. Just once. I don’t know how many more I’ll do.
DRYDEN. I’d be delighted for you to speak.
NELL. Thank you.
DRYDEN. Good-oh. (Pause.) Better go and finish the middle bit then.
NELL. But you said –
KILLIGREW. Dryden?!
DRYDEN (going). It’s almost done, I just haven’t quite written the words yet… (Exits at speed.)
KILLIGREW. Dryden! Come back here! (Following him out with NANCY.)
HART and NELL are left alone. NELL looks out into the empty theatre.
Nell Gwynn Page 9
