31 Plays in 31 Days, #29 - "A New Fancy"

[breakinglight11]

A too long scene that requires having the excess bits cut out from Justin’s story. It’s about adding another layer of complication to the narrative, giving Justin yet another job he’s going to have to accomplish over the course of the story. It also elaborates on the character of Theo, an old schoolfellow of Justin’s, who can be seen in Day #19 - “The Party Met” and Day #25 - “Beheaded”. Theo is our most conventionally Wodehouse archetype of all the characters— he’s our Drone, our hapless and slightly dumb young toff who’s gotten himself into a mess.

I like the ideas in this, but the scene is very long, and there’s a lot of fluff to it that could stand to lose.


Photo by John Benfield

Day #29 - "A New Fancy"
From A Libertine Abroad
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~

JUSTIN HAWKING, a liberated gentlemen, late thirties
PETER MORGAN, his valet, late twenties
THEO PRYCE, Lord Cornin, the groom-to-be and an old school friend, mid thirties

Venice, 1889
~~~

JUSTIN: May I introduce, Mr. Morgan, one of the first graduating classes of the School for Rakes?

THEO: It’s true. I once saw him have a pair of twins slapping and hair-pulling after a raised eyebrow across a dinner table.

JUSTIN: Ah, the Mayburys. Like sugar and spice.

MORGAN: Good gracious.

JUSTIN: You’ll have to forgive Morgan here; he’s a straight-laced sort. Of course, you’re headed for the straight and narrow yourself now, aren’t you?

THEO: Oh. Yes. I suppose.

JUSTIN: Congratulations, by the way, on your engagement. Annabel seems like quite the firecracker.

THEO: Oh. Yes. I suppose.

(JUSTIN and MORGAN exchange a look.)

JUSTIN: I say, old man, is everything all right?

THEO: What? What makes you ask that?

JUSTIN: Begging your pardon, but if I were to plight my troth for all eternity, I’d hope I’d have a bit more to say of my beloved than “Yes, I suppose.”

THEO: Oh. Well… yes. I suppose.

(Pause.)

JUSTIN: Are you quite sure there’s nothing wrong?

THEO: Well, since you ask—

MORGAN: (Muttered) Thank heaven.

THEO: It isn’t as thought Annabel isn’t a lovely girl—

JUSTIN: Very lovely.

MORGAN: Quite so.

THEO: And so clever, and funny, and simply a joy to be around—

JUSTIN: Couldn’t agree more.

THEO: You really think so?

JUSTIN: Of course.

THEO: You want her?

JUSTIN: I beg your pardon?

THEO: Please, Justin, old boy, you must understand.

JUSTIN: When a man offers me his fiancee, I very much hope to! That’s a mistake I’ll not be making again.

MORGAN: It isn’t the first time, you see.

THEO: Are you quite sure? It would be me a cracking excuse, and from what I know of you, might be of some consolation to her.

JUSTIN: I told you, it’s not worth the trouble. Never again.

MORGAN: If I may ask, my lord, what’s troubling you and the Honorable Miss Broadwater?

THEO: Oh, it’s all become quite the mess. We had a lovely time when we were courting, Annabel and I. But now that we’re engaged, and things are seeming so dreadfully… final… I find myself wondering if I haven’t made rather a mistake.

JUSTIN: Oh, Theo, you wag. You always do this.

THEO: Do what?

JUSTIN: Decide the sun rises and sets upon a girl until she looks back at you. You only want them when you can’t have them.

THEO: Here now, that’s not fair!

JUSTIN: You were the just the same at school. Remember that barmaid at the Criterion? You used to moon over her when she emptied the mop buckets in the alley? Until she marched over and kissed you and soaked your hose with mop water.

THEO: A gentleman wouldn’t hold a boyhood fancy against me.

JUSTIN: A gentleman wouldn’t ask me to deflower his fiancee.

THEO: But this isn’t just a fancy! There’s someone else. Someone who makes me see what true love is.

JUSTIN: Oh, God. And what miraculous creature has brought on this revelation?

THEO: Well, that’s the rub. It’s… Annabel’s companion. Miss Cora Little.

MORGAN: No.

THEO: I beg your pardon, sir?

MORGAN: Ah… nothing, my lord. Only… Miss Little?

THEO: I know it sounds like something from a fairy tale. A lordling who has never known what it was to love before, falling for a penniless Venus below his station.

JUSTIN: Yes, imagine that.

THEO: But she makes me feel all the things that the poets sing of, and I feel as though it can’t be ignored.

JUSTIN: You are making it powerfully difficult.

THEO: So you see my trouble.

JUSTIN: Can’t you just break things off?

THEO: Oh, you know how it is! You chase a woman for weeks, she decides that means you ought to get married, and what’s a well-bred chap to do? It would be terribly ill-mannered. Not to mention the old lady would skin me alive.

JUSTIN: Yes, Mrs. Broadwater hardly seems the type to see her plans fall apart without having anything to skin about it.

THEO: But you see that I can’t marry Annabel now. Not when my soul belongs to another. So will you help me?

JUSTIN: You mean, help you out of your engagement?

THEO: I knew you would understand! You’ve been a true friend to me since the day Professor Landridge nearly caught me in his office and you hid me beneath his overcoat.

JUSTIN: Ugh, very well. I should hate to think of all this inflicted on Miss Annabel.

THEO: I shan’t forget it. Anything you should want in reward, I shall be happy to give.

JUSTIN: Yes, including your fiancee, apparently.

THEO: Thank you, old friend. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must help choose the hors d’oeuvres for my engagement party.

(Exit THEO.)

JUSTIN: And here I thought we wouldn’t have to spend every moment here working, Morgan. But it seems we’ve another job to carry off.

(Pause.)

JUSTIN: Are you quite all right? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.

MORGAN: Not at all, sir. Just… what’s all in front of me.

JUSTIN: Yes, well. Theo has that effect on people. No matter now; we were discussing battle plans for your romantic campaign.

MORGAN: No matter, sir. It’s not important. We’ve so many more pressing things to see to.