Labour's Lost Love- a drunken tragedy in three acts

CW: Shakespearean bawdiness!

****Act 1 ****

——Scene 1——

(Enter Lord FARRINGTON and Sir MONTRAY, two young lords of lofty houses, both in a drunken, rambunctious state of dishevelment and good humour.)

FARRINGTON

This night have I been greatly entertained 

with such delightful hospitality 

delivered with such grace and charm and wit… 

(Farrington stumbles drunkenly.)

MONTRAY

Good faith, dear Farrington, we have been charmed, 

Such hospitality knoweth no bounds, 

Nor bonds nor aught which blindly binds a man.

FARRINGTON

Yet, binding bonds do bringeth pleasuring, 

Or hath the lovely Kitty lost her skill? 

MONTRAY

The lady hath not lost her touch, good sir. 

Thy skill with words rivals the Puck himself, 

Yet wager I, my tongue could turn the tide.

FARRINGTON

Methinks thy wit doth rival Falstaff’s own, 

Though I must boast my swordplay leaveth more

Maidens breathless, than thine oral discourse! 

MONTRAY

In language of passion, mine friend, I speak 

Volumes without a single uttered word.

(Enter MARCUS, a young gentleman, armed with a bouquet of daffodils.)

MARCUS  Good evening sirs. 

MONTRAY  Or is it good morrow?

FARRINGTON  Or good morning?

MONTRAY  Or even good day, sir?

MARCUS Good day to you, sir.

(He bows and makes to leave.)

FARRINGTON  Nay, tarry a while. 

Where art thou going at this crudest hour?

MONTRAY

Surely the lad doth seek his own fine bed?

FARRINGTON

Certain doth he not seek mine, nor thine.

MONTRAY

Nor Kat’s for she doth not forsooth consort 

With mewling pups still wet behind the ears.

FARRINGTON

E’en pups so armed with limp daffodil spears.

MONTRAY

Better he brought his sword for poor Kitty. 

Methinks limp leaves will not be well received.

(MARCUS endeavours to push past them again.)

MONTRAY  But hold, young sir!

FARRINGTON  Pray, heed to us no mind. 

We mean no harm and truly we do jest. 

Wither dost thou go so prettily armed? 

Faith! Dost thou seek to slay a maiden’s heart?

MONTRAY

Or p’rhaps to make a conquest of the mother?

FARRINGTON

Or vanquish maid and mother with thy blade.

MARCUS

Do stand aside and let me pass today, 

For no quarrel have I with you good sirs.

MONTRAY  No quarrel with us?

FARRINGTON  The lad would need a stick.

MONTRAY

Indeed, a stick to poke, alas poor boy. 

Methinks thou needest ale to summon up 

The courage that thy loins do surely lack! 

Come, come, I know a place where striplings all 

May wet their wicks and loosen up their tongues.

FARRINGTON

Aye, come, dear boy, we know the place full well. 

MARCUS

I’ll naught be mov’d by thee, good sirs, indeed. 

Forsooth, I know not either one by name. 

FARRINGTON

(Flourishing a bow.)

Lord Henry Farrington we are well met.

And this my friend Sir Monray and thou art?

(Monray flourishes a greater bow and nearly topples to the ground.)

MARCUS

O steady Sir! Thou stumblest on thy feet.

My name be Marcus, and we are well met 

Though I be young, I naught am idle headed, 

To follow where two sots would have me led.

FARRINGTON

I do believe the whelp hath called us fools?

MONTRAY

But who’s the fool? The one that follows the fool? 

Or foolish, youths who fools the fooled fool.

FARRINGTON

Montray, I beg you cease! Thou spaketh no sense. 

And now my mind is muddled even more.

MONTRAY

Come now, good fool, let us swiftly depart.

FARRINGTON

Agreed Montray, and come my youthful friend 

Let us go now and swiftly take our leave.

MARCUS  Nay, nay!

MONTRAY  But aye, 

FARRINGTON  Forsooth, art thou a horse?

Come, come, we have the beast to bear the load.

MONTRAY

What say he make the two backed beast this eve

Yon Kitty knows it best how ‘tis be done.

(They each grasp MARCUS by the arm and drag him off stage with great revelry and song.)

****Act 2*****

——Scene 1——

(Enter KITTY, a blowsy wench of ill repute.)

KITTY

This Kitty cat doth sharpen needle claws

But sheath’d at first beneath her velvet paws

Come shadow’d night where lusty laughter lies

There the truth and hidden tales arise

With every whispered sigh and ardent plea,

Men spill their stories all unwittingly.

And like a spider, cunningly I weave

A silken web their secrets to relieve.

With honeyed tongue and whisper'd promises

I play them each with upturn'd skirts and kisses

To lure from one and all their inmost thoughts

And with each little death their secret bought

From their wealth, their honour— what a jest!

Their secrets lie with me. What I do best

To spin their words from breath to coin of gold

By off’ring to reveal what I’ve been told.

This in my bawdy trade, my cunning plot,

Shadow’d confessions stolen from the sot.

I name my price for that which I conceal

And if thou shalt not pay I dost reveal.

(Enter FARRINGTON, MONTRAY and MARCUS each one suffering the effects of too much wine.)

MONTRAY

Good morrow lady Kitty dost thou rise

E’en ‘fore the cockrel crows into the skies?

FARRINGTON

Pray silence Montray, words be swordsmenlike

That thrust and parry, fences on my pate.

MARCUS O woe is me!

KITTY La child! ‘Tis naught all gloom.

MARCUS

O woe, my head, my heart, all fill’d with doom!

KITTY

Poor lad, why such a longish pallid face?

Share sorrows with the Kitty’s genteel grace.

MARCUS

My love to wed this morn and be I here

Naught there, where I wouldst wanting rather be.

KITTY

Take thee this cup of wine to ease the brain.

Do come with me, mine ear will wear your pain

Good, gentle sir, pray spake and spill a more.

Whilst I caress affectionate amore.

(She leadeth Marcus away, and they exit.)

MONRAY

Mine addlepated friend come share this mead

To chase away the pounding of thy head.

We two must lift our cup to toast aright

Successful ventures ventured this night.

(They drink, then exit)

——Scene 2——

(Enter DAPHNE, a beauteous child in the first blossom of womanhood, and her NURSE, a crone well withered past girlhood.)

DAPHNE

Aye me! For sooth, pray tell where is my love?

Who promised to spirit me away.

NURSE

Mayhap it seems, unless the lad be ghost

His constancy be called uncertainty.

DAPHNE

But nay, good nurse, speak not such gross untruth!

Mine love will see me ‘ere the day is dawned

I must believe in his unwav’ring heart

Thy wav’ring faith shall best be unbelieved.

NURSE

Come, thou shouldst turn thy heart to Alaric

DAPHNE

I beg thee not to speak that name to me.

Mine Marcus is the soul of constant love.

NURSE

This morn hath not proved his constancy!

Attend my words and listen to my speech 

Thy father knowest best what shalt be done

DAPHNE

I’ll not be swayed by censure from thy lips.

(A knocking is heard)

Be still, and hark! Marcus cometh anon.

(Enter LUCIAN, an upright man of fickle fortune, father to DAPHNE.)

LUCIAN

God’s breath, child mine! Where be thy wedding dress?

The time upon us now we must away.

Alaric awaits, thou shalt not tardy be,

The friar’s paid by hour not by day.

DAPHNE

I beg thee Father, tarry moments more

My flutt’ring heart bird-like within my breast.

LUCIAN

The banns are read and all assembled be

Awaiting for the wedding and the feast.

This match is sound, contracted with due care,

So heed good daughter, wisdom I impart.

Resist it not, this meddling match is made

Without concern of favour from thine heart.

DAPHNE

Father, pray, I beg thee! Heed my tears.

A wife is but another word for slave!

LUCIAN

Daughter, I shall not hark thy pleading words.

Thy groom awaits thee, hasten to the nave.

(LUCIAN exits angrily.)

NURSE

Thou shouldst not court thy Father’s fierce ire,

But cultivate an innocence of eyes.

For so thy Father wilt to not suspect

The plot that thee did cleverly devise.

E’en still I must counsel for thee caution.

Thy gentle lad be naught within thy sight.

Absence maketh the heart to grow more fond,

(Aside)

Or else the knave absconded in the night.

(Exit) 

****Act 3****

——Scene 1——

(Enter FARRINGTON and MONTRAY supporting an inebriated MARCUS.)

MARCUS

Be still yon stormy seas that toss the earth

To swell and surge beneath my merry feet.

A jig, good sir, come dance with me this day 

My legs, like reeds in winds do bend and bow.

Pray thee friend do keep me from the ground

And join the ditty thou taught me so well.

(Singing)

My wick is dry, my wick is wet

To light the flame come wet my wick.

FARRINGTON

Thine voice, like harpies claws, doth shred my soul,

Like cockr’l boasting of his might deeds.

Pray cease thy caterwauling with the sun,

Mine head is not attached at the nape 

And verily it thunders with the sound.

MONTRAY

Do hush thee both, thy singing and complaint.

(A church bell sounds.)

Harken, the bells they toll for reaping souls.

FARRINGTON

Forsooth, they toll for death by wedded bliss.

Alas, yon knave lost freedom for a kiss!

MONTRAY

As trapped as flies in honey, he shall be. 

Unsnar’d, we three, enjoy our liberty.

FARRINGTON

He be dog-yoked, led hither by the neck, 

And we, unchain’d, roam freely without check.

(Enter DAPHNE, dressed in wedding finery on the arm of ALARIC.)

MARCUS

O, woe this day! My darling Daphne comes

In fine’ry, gilt and glowing like the sun.

Yet hollowed orbs excoriate and chide.

O, Daphne, dost thou now denounce our love?

ALARIC

Who dares address my lady fair this day? 

DAPHNE

Marcus, forsooth thou hast forsaken me.

MARCUS  O, nay! I’d ne’er 

DAPHNE  But aye! Thou hast forsooth.

Where didst thou go that keepest me from thee? 

ALARIC

Thou art a cockered, tickle-brained cur, 

Unworthy of the lady’s gaze or thought!

Begone thou ill bred inchworm ‘neath mine feet

Withdraw thy hand at once or raise thy sword!

MARCUS

I heft my sword and thrust my blade, behold!

(He waveth the bouquet of daffodils menacingly.)

ALARIC

(Laughing uproariously.)

Thy blade is wilted, withered at the core.

MONTRAY

(An urgent whisper.)

Yon blooms be not a match for hardened steel!

FARRINGTON

O, pray, pup! Put the blooming spears aside.

MARCUS

Dear Daphne, daffodils do bloom for thee.

DAPHNE

Thou doest bloom late for ne’er can be undone

The word and vow uttered under duress.

I beg thee leave before thy blood is spilled.

ALARIC

Shall I to test thy metal, man to man?

FARRINGTON

Good sir, the boy hath wet his wick just once,

Though thou doest keen propose a tempting tryst,

The lad must keep his sword within its sheath 

For fear he must thee sadly disappoint.

MONTRAY

We must away, and bid good day to thee.

MARCUS

Nay, sir! I’ll not away without my love.

Unhand me now that I might love to prove.

ALARIC

Such love you prove is worth its weight in swill.

Set down thy blossom blade or loose thy head.

MONTRAY

Do, come away no lass is worth thy life.

FARRINGTON

Indeed, thou cannot take this man’s new wife.

Good day, good sir, I give to you my leg.

MARCUS

Thou shalt not leave! Daphne, I plead and beg!

MONTRAY

Leave off, desist, refrain from further course.

FARRINGTON

This man hath willingly taken your noose.

(Exit ALARIC and DAPHNE.)

MARCUS

O, bitter fate! That love’s sweet flower’s plucked 

Whilst debauchering in mire have I lain!

For thou art not good friends indeed to me.

Advice and avarice has led to pain.

FARRINGTON

Pain has a cure, a remedy of sorts.

MONTRAY

Indeed we have the cure for all that ails.

FARRINGTON

Mistress Kitty knoweth it by heart.

MONTRAY

For thus the cure is sure and never fails

MARCUS

Nay, tempting as thy offer is to be,

There naught can be to ease my pain and strife

For with the spearing daffodils I vow 

To pierce mine heart and deftly take my life.

(MARCUS crushes the blooms unto his breast.)

FARRINGTON

Zounds! Now that death is satisfied in full,

Shall we away to Kitty for the cure?

MARCUS

Aye me, now dead and do not feel aught else.

No breath escape the lips to sigh and moan

So wetted wicks will wither whence they came

Love’s lost so long and flaccid here I groan.

MONTRAY

We three to Kitty’s bower will we scamper

For sure to drink the poison and the cure.

Come lad, a wetted wick will well withstand

The slings and arrows love cannot endure.

(They exit.)

Author's note. My apologies for poor iambic pentameter, poor formatting, rhyme and rhythm.