DRAMATIS PERSONAE
England, mid-Autumn, 1760. The drawing room of Sir Henry Trenning's country manor. The door to the hallway is at stage left, while to the right is a big picture window admitting in light from the gathering dusk and providing a view of the curved driveway (unseen by the audience). The furnishing are spare, only two plush armchairs facing each other across a small lit hearth, atop which are arty curios and a mantel clock. A sparsely-stocked sideboard stands downstage right. Sir Henry, a lean, handsome squire in his early forties stands at the sideboard ready to pour himself a drink from a crystal decanter, but upon hearing the sounds of a coach and horses entering the driveway sighs wearily and sets down both decanter and glass.
Molly and Wicklow enter. Molly is a petite, comely young woman of about thirty, Wicklow a tall, stooped but dignified older man at the near side of seventy.
Wicklow (anxiously): Sir...he's come back.
Sir Henry (looking dourly at the glassware, sighs again): I know, I hear him arriving now.
Molly (also anxiously): Sir, I know it's not my place to speak so freely but I-I'm really quite weary of being so a-frightened of him-a-and if this doesn't work-
Sir Henry (smiles warmly at her): It shall, Molly, my dear, it shall. No more fears after tonight, I promise you that. (The mantel clock chimes four, followed by a furious pounding on the front door.) Damn. Right, so you both are quite clear on what to do, yes?
Wicklow: Yes, sir.
Molly: Yes, sir.
Sir Henry: Good, good. So am I. You both may go.
Wicklow and Molly bow and curtsey respectively and move to the door.
Wicklow (turning back): Sir, if I may- (offers Sir Henry his hand to shake, which he does) Thank you for doing this. I ought not speak for all of us, but 'tis a liberty I gladly take. So once again, sir, thank you.
Sir Henry (smiling): You are quite welcome, old chap.
The pounding on the front door continues and with more vehemence. A voice without shouts, "Henry, I know you're in there! I've got some news to share with you!"
Sir Henry (sighing for a third time): Right. Please let him in, Molly.
Molly (tremulously): Yes, sir. (She exits with Wicklow, who places a reassuring hand on her shoulder as they go. Sir Henry still stands next to the sideboard, his eyes closed and head bowed as if in prayer. Suddenly Molly shrieks and bursts through the door, as close on her heels follows a laughing Dr. Gerard Boniface, a portly, pudgy-faced man of about sixty-five wearing a black pleated greatcoat and a tricorn hat of the same color, his hair (also black) tied up in a stubby pigtail behind his head. He chases Molly around the room while snapping a pair of blood-stained dental tooth extractors. Sir Henry stands in situ by the sideboard, calmly watching them.)
Dr Boniface: Ha ha! I'll get you today, you little hussy! See if I don't!
Molly (beyond frightened): Sir! Help me! Please help!
Suddenly Sir Henry steps into the space between Molly and Dr. Boniface, facing the latter head-on and effectively ceasing the chase; Dr. Boniface, for his part, is somehow able to stop just short of colliding into Sir Henry, though they both barely meet nose-to-nose.
Sir Henry (flatly and with a tight smile): Hello again, Gerard. Please leave my poor parlormaid alone today or I shall divest you of those horrid things. (indicating extractors) Please.
Dr. Boniface (briefly taken aback but quickly resuming his joviality): Ha ha ha! Of course, of course! You say horrid, but those rotting canines of hers shall have to come out sooner or later, you know. (he snaps his extractors a few times before pocketing them, then rubs his hands together before the fire) Bit of a chill out there tonight. (points to sideboard) May I?
Sir Henry: You always do. Be my guest, Gerard.
Dr. Boniface: Ah, very good! (he moves over to the sideboard, scans the bottles.) Oh! No more brandy?
Sir Henry: Under the sideboard. (sotto voce) I just remembered you hadn't guzzled it all.
Dr. Boniface: Hm?
Sir Henry: Right down there. See it? Yes, there. (looks at Molly quietly crying downstage and moves over to her) Pardon me a moment, Gerard.
Dr. Boniface: Oh, certainly. (He hums cheerily to himself as he pulls out the brandy bottle, pours himself a drink and makes a disgusted face at a mantel curio before covering it with his hat, then swipes the mantel with his index finger.) Ugh, this dust! Have you no other domestics to clean this room, Henry?
Sir Henry (semi-distracted with Molly): Hm? No, you frightened away many of my servants with your threats of tooth extraction, remember?
Dr. Boniface: Ah, yes! A pity, that. (He sits comfortably in the armchair close to the door and sips his drink and sighs.) The ones who need it the most.
Sir Henry (softly to Molly, taking her by the hand): Molly, I'm awfully sorry about that. I should not have let you-
Molly (sniffling): Oh, no, no, sir, you needn't apologize one whit for that! No. (smiles) But thank you for saving me and my teeth from him.
Sir Henry (offers her a handkerchief, which she takes and dabs her eyes): You're most welcome, my dear. Keep it.
Molly: Thank you, sir.
Sir Henry (moving closer to her): I say, Molly, I don't think I've ever-
Dr. Boniface (a volcanic impatience): Oh, bloody hell, Henry, would you just let that timorous bit of Irish baggage do her maidenly duties! Pour a drink and come sit here with me! I've news to tell you, remember?!
Sir Henry (mightily restraining a sigh): Of course, Gerard, of course. I'm being quite a poor host, aren't I? Do forgive me. (Dr. Boniface grunts an affirmative and drinks.)
Molly (mostly recovered now, to both men): Yes, so if there is nothing else, gentlemen, I shall leave now. Remember dinner will be ready at five as is customary. I shall ask Cook-
Dr. Boniface (rises to pour himself another drink): Oh, I shan't be staying for dinner tonight, little Moll.
Sir Henry and Molly start.
Lord Henry: No, Gerard?
Dr. Boniface: No. (glances at the clock as he pours) Let me see, it is near half-past four and I mean to leave at five tonight. After I've told you my news, of course. It shan't take long, I assure you. (sits) Coming, Henry?
Sir Henry: Yes, of course. (to Molly, softly but urgently) Molly, find Wicklow and let him know of this at once. We've not a moment to lose now.
Molly: Yes, sir.
Sir Henry: Then return to apprise me of the situation, like we practiced. Go!
Molly: Yes, sir. (She curtsies and exits. Sir Henry returns to the sideboard to pour himself some water from a carafe.)
Dr. Boniface (smugly): If I did not know otherwise, Henry, I would suspect you quite fancy that girl. Unwise, of course, for a worthy gentleman such as yourself. (sips from his glass and scrutinizes it in the firelight) She doesn't hold a candle to your Lucy, I'm afraid. No.
Lord Henry freezes and gazes balefully into the audience. Molly returns but listens quietly with the door ajar.
Dr. Boniface: You remember pretty Lucy, your once-affianced, don't you, Henry? Of course you must, though she's not often a subject of our discussions. She, the flower of your youth, the promise of marital bliss, heart of your heart, soul of your soul, in a love that would endure through all of fathomless Eternity. (chuckles) 'Til I as a man of experience impressed her with this glorious object (fishes the extractor out of his pocket and holds it aloft) that none other than Tsar Peter of the Russias gifted me as part of a lovely set of dental tools when I was just a strapping young ambassador to his Imperial Majesty's backwater empire. Then she was mine. (snaps the extractor once at the word "mine", re-pockets it, pauses) (Sir Henry moves over to lean against the back of the other vacant chair and sips his water, his face inscrutable.) Of course there was the wooing, the courtship, the wedding, the, as I said, promise of marital bliss. All of that tedium. (drinks) But the little fool could not keep still when I tried to pull out a particularly nasty-looking incisor she had whilst we were on our honeymoon in London, and Lucy fled into the street and was struck down and crushed to death by a coach-and-four. Ugh! So horrid! (drinks) But-no, no, I'm sorry, that was before she'd caught me in bed with the whore! Then she fled! (laughs and taps his head) Ah, fickle memory! Don't ever get old, Henry, it can be quite a nuisance at times!
Sir Henry remains silent.
Dr. Boniface (drinks): But of course you know all of this about poor Lucy and forgave me out of noblesse oblige, yes? I would not be here otherwise. (indicates chair) Now please do me the pleasure of finally sitting here by your own cheery hearth, Henry!
As Sir Henry slowly and wordlessly moves to sit, Wicklow appears behind Molly and startles her as he whispers in her ear. She smiles brightly at his words and enters the room as Wicklow withdraws.
Molly: Sir Henry, dinner shall be ready shortly.
Sir Henry (nods): Thank you, Molly.
Molly (looks out the window): My, it's gotten rather pitch black outside. (pause) Hm. Black as a churchyard full of ravens, I must say!
Dr. Boniface (casts a cursory look outside, guffaws): It ain't as dark as all that, little baggage! My goodness! (shakes his head and rises to re-fill his glass)
Sir Henry (nods again but with a bit more vehemence): Very good, Molly, you may go. (Molly curtseys and quickly exits.) Right. Your news, Gerard?
Dr. Boniface (sits): Eh?
Sir Henry (testy): I'm getting famished, Gerard. Please relay your news to me now so that I may dine.
Dr. Boniface: Ah, yes. Well, not to prolong it further, I'm going to be Ellyn-on-Truro's dentist from now on.
Sir Henry (starts violently): Ell-! That's-!
Dr. Boniface: Yes, your village. Just down the road.
Sir Henry: But-no, the blacksmith John Shanty pulls teeth, if needs be!
Dr. Boniface (chuckles): And now he needs not be! (drinks)
Sir Henry: But you've chased my servants all around my house and out of my employ just for that purpose! How the devil do you know they haven't already warned the villagers about you?!
Dr. Boniface: I'm not concerned, Henry. If I behave myself and be unctuously charming from now on, I do not foresee an issue with the villagers, no matter what your servants may have told them. (sighs) But you know, Henry, I'm a bit insulted you take me only for pulling teeth. I do fillings, as well, of gold and silver, with nearly impeccable results. And the coin I earn from those alone...well. (winks)
Sir Henry: Ah.
Dr. Boniface: And Ellyn-on-Truro ain't a poor village. You've been a bit lax with the taxes lately, haven't you? But if those people are anything like your pretty Molly, for example, their chompers need work just as much as hers. Much work. And they no doubt shall pay handsomely for any relief I provide them. (grins) Whatever the cost.
The mantel clock chimes five o'clock. Neither man stirs.
Dr. Boniface (brightly): Dinnertime! (He downs the rest of his drink and rises with a grunt out of his chair.) I've got a nice hot meal waiting for me at the Ellyn Arms. (lifts his hat off the mantel curio, which he makes another face at) That really is a horrendous piece, Henry! Where on earth did you get it?
Sir Henry (sadly and with a reluctance to answer): Lucy bought it. In Bath, I think. It...it was her favorite.
Dr. Boniface (shakes his head): Tsk! She always was bereft of any aesthetic sensibilities. (puts his empty glass on the sideboard) At any rate I shall visit you again anon to discuss the particulars of my move into the village. Early next week, perhaps? Over dinner here? (unsure if Sir Henry is listening, loudly) D'accord?!
Sir Henry (snapping out of it): Yes, yes, of course, Gerard. It shall be my pleasure! (offers his hand that Gerard shakes)
Dr. Boniface (donning his hat): Splendid! (He moves to the door, followed by Sir Henry, and nearly collides with Molly, who gazes fearfully up at him.) No need to run from me anymore, girl. (caresses Molly's cheek with the back of his hand, startling her and Sir Henry) I've much richer game to chase now. (chuckles) Good night, good night to you both! I shall see myself out! Oh, and don't forget, Henry, to procure more brandy to celebrate my move! Lots of it! (laughs and exits)
Sir Henry (shouting after him): Oh, I shan't, Gerard! We have much to celebrate! (Sir Henry pauses to gaze down at Molly's anxious face, softly) To celebrate. (He nods to Molly, who reciprocates and exits. Sir Henry moves once again to the sideboard to pour himself a drink from the same crystal decanter as before, then walks casually over to the picture window and looks pensively out. For a moment there is a deep, tense quiet, then suddenly broken by voices shouting and laughing outside, with fiddle sounds providing a lively accompaniment. A bright fiery light flares up and illuminates Sir Henry, who sips his drink (but not so much holds his glass as tensely clutches it) and the voices outside grow louder as if to drown out the hellish human screams now filling the chill evening air. Sir Henry continues to watch with a grim satisfaction and turns away only when the light begins to fade. He takes up Dr. Boniface's empty glass and studies it for a few seconds before smashing it angrily in the fireplace. Almost immediately after Molly and Wicklow enter, breathless and beaming.)
Wicklow: Sir? It's...it's done.
Sir Henry (quickly resuming composure): Yes, I saw, Wicklow. And heard. Very good. I do have some queries, though.
Wicklow: Sir?
Sir Henry: Well, to begin with, no one was passing on the road who could witness it, correct?
Wicklow: Oh, no, sir! We had lookouts posted half a mile down the road in both directions. Nary a soul appeared, much to our good fortune.
Molly: And it is Guy Fawkes Night, so a big bonfire like that would not attract any especial notice.
Sir Henry: But his screaming might've.
Wicklow: I do believe they were vociferous enough, sir, to conceal that, terrible though it was.
Sir Henry: Perhaps. Where are the doctor's horses now?
Molly: Both horses have been put in your stable for now, sir.
Sir Henry: His driver was our Billy Wilkins, correct?
Wicklow: Yes, sir. (chuckles) He would've driven the doctor down to the very Devil if 'twere possible!
Sir Henry: I have no doubt of it. And the pitch?
Molly: All used on the coach, sir. None left.
Wicklow: The doctor did notice the smell but by that time our lads were on him and-
Sir Henry: Yes, Wicklow. Right, I want someone to clear that driveway bright and early tomorrow and discreetly disperse of everything remaining-burnt carriage, bones and all...except...
Molly: Sir?
Wicklow: Except?
Sir Henry: His extractors. Those damned extractors! I-want them...as a memento. If they can be found.
Molly and Wicklow exchange surprised glances but nod in understanding.
Wicklow: Yes, sir. Anything else?
Sir Henry: What shall we tell the villagers about him?
Wicklow (chuckles): Nothing about him, sir. But the "ravens" ought in future not to shout so loudly as many of them did tonight, else they would either become hoarse or wake the dead!
Sir Henry: Quite so. Oh, he said he was to dine at the Ellyn Arms tonight! Won't he be missed?
Wicklow (looks past Sir Henry out the window): No, sir, I'm quite certain of that.
Sir Henry: Well, I'll wager you've answered many of my concerns, Wicklow, Molly, thank you.
Wicklow: Very good, sir.
Sir Henry: I shall dine momentarily, then. Oh, and please inform those who wish to return to my employ that I'll add a bob rise to their wages, now that the...danger has passed.
Wicklow (astonished and elated): Yes, I-I shall, sir! (offers his hand again which Sir Henry shakes) Thank you so much!
Sir Henry smiles and nods his head. Wicklow bows and exits. As he exits Sir Henry and Molly rush into each other's arms and fervently kiss.
Molly (coming up for air): Sir-
Sir Henry: Henry. Just Henry.
Molly: Yes, but...Henry...our stations-
Sir Henry: Oh, hang our stations, Molly! I have loved you for so long and...it's been so long since my poor Lucy-...but I wish to be happy again. (wistfully) Happy. Do you feel the same about me, Molly? Do you...love me too?
Molly (sobbing): Oh, yes, Henry! Yes! Yes! (they kiss)
Sir Henry (suddenly pulling away but still holding her): Molly, there's something I wanted to say to you earlier before Gerard interrupted.
Molly: What's that, my love?
Sir Henry (almost bashfully): Only that...I don't think I've ever seen a smile...quite as beautiful as yours.
Molly: Henry! (they kiss)
CURTAIN
DB/6.2023
