Stage Beauty Page #3

This Thursday last at Mr Betterton's.

Were you? Not lago, I hope.

I didn't like him.

I played Desdemona.

Ah! That Kynaston.

Late wife of the murderous Moor.

Went to see the show last week

The curtain was late.

I said, "What's the matter?"

They said, "Your Majesty,

Desdemona is still shaving. "

You paint a blush upon me, sir.

Do you know Miss Gwynn,

my pretty, witty Nell?

Mr Kynaston, I am a great admirer.

Oh!

Nell is the most ardent theatregoer in London.

I used to be an orange girl.

I worked the stalls before,

during and after every performance.

Oranges! Oranges!

Two pence a pair!

Yes, exactly

Kynaston, about the Othello.

Saw it last week. Good show.

But it needed changes.

You see, it could be a bit...

- Jollier?

- That's what I said.

Yes, what we want are...

- Surprises?

- Exactly.

But we don't want to know they're coming.

Mr Samuel Pepys!

And Mrs Margaret Hughes!

- Your Majesty.

- Pepys, you brought a guest.

Mrs Hughes,

- Miss Gwynn.

- I'd take your hand but my tit'd fall out.

And Mr Kynaston.

K N Gg Hon, are you overcome?

- Oh, dear.

- Are you all right, Mrs Hughes?

- Yes...

Sir Charles Sedley.

Sedley, I think you know everyone here.

Except for Mrs Hughes and Mr Kynaston.

Kynaston...

It feels I've had the honour already.

Or you've already had the honour of feeling it.

Obviously, I'm behind in my drinking.

- Shall we go in for dinner?

- Oh, we're deeply privileged.

Lady Jane Bellamy, follow me.

Allow me, Mrs Hughes.

- I can explain everything.

- Are you a philosopher?

You, Pepys, the Duke, this is all some

great joke the three of you are playing.

Mr Kynaston, I had no idea...

Mrs Hughes, will you sit next to me?

Don't make a scene.

George, do you know Lady Jane Bellamy?

No, but I certainly hope to.

Tell me about your parentage, Miss Gwynn.

My mum was a whore,

my father in the navy.

- I see.

- That's why I don't never do sailors.

I'm sorry I missed your performance tonight,

Miss Gwynn.

- Will you do it again?

- No.

And all that for a one-off.

Work, work, work, and it's over in a pop.

- Like Charlie.

- What, my dear?

Miss Gwynn, I remind you,

you are speaking of the Father of his People.

Well... a lot of 'em.

Mrs Hughes, have you seen

Mr Kynaston perform?

He's doing Desdemona in Othello now.

- You've seen it, George?

- Yes. I never tire of Othello.

Truth be told, sir,

he never tires of Desdemona.

Kynaston, isn't there someone else

who does Desdemona?

- Can't think of his name now.

James Noakes.

Yes, good actor Noakes

Not quite his part, though.

Doesn't have your beauty.

No, Kynaston,

Desdemona is yours alone. Ha, ha!

Well, but if I may, sir...

A part doesn't belong to an actor,

an actor belongs to a part.

Don't you agree, sir?

Don't know.

Do you agree, Mr Kynaston?

Oh, well, there have been

other Desdemonas before me, sir.

There will be more after. In fact, the Duke of

Buckingham saw another one just last night.

Did you, Your Grace?

George, what performance

does Mr Kynaston refer to?

You showed me the fly bill.

I think I have it. Yes, here it is.

The Cockpit Tavern.

Yes, that was name of the theatre, wasn't it?

Well, it wasn't strictly a theatre.

"The woman...

plays today

Mrs Margaret... "

Mrs Hughes.

Is this you?

Yes.

You?

A woman?

Performed in a play?

In a public theatre

against the order of the Crown?

As His Grace said, it's not a real theatre.

It's more a sort of tavern,

and hence, outside...

I am the First Minister, Mrs Hughes.

I know what the law...

Mrs Hughes.

This performance of yours,

was it too a one-off?

Well, sir, it certainly was novel.

But we had hoped to have more chances.

That's the tricky thing about novelty.

Do it more than once, it's not novel any more.

That may be true, Mr Kynaston.

But in the theatre, I am told,

there are no old shows, just new audiences.

Ha!

- Are you going to do it again?

- She most certainly is not.

Sir, I insist you issue a proclamation

- closing this Cockpit...

- But, Charlie!

- Sir...

- Silence!

When my father was alive,

it had long been illegal

for a woman to perform in public.

In the Palace, of course,

it was women galore.

Private musicales, masques...

No-one gave a damn.

Except... the clerics.

One minister,

a Mr Prynne,

wrote a pamphlet against all actresses

as lewd women...

and whores.

Now

my mother

acted in some of those court masques.

And she felt Mr Prynne's diatribe

was directed at her.

So, Mr Prynne was tried,

convicted,

and sentenced to the stocks.

Where his feet were burned,

his ears lopped off,

and his tongue cut out.

Yet...

in spite of all this,

Mr Prynne never recanted.

Some say his stoicism

in the face of such excess...

...is what fanned the flames

of the Puritan revolt.

And so, off with my father's head.

And I to Holland for 20 years.

I think it might be fun

to see women on the stage.

They have had them in France

for a long time now.

Yes.

Whenever we're about

to do something truly horrible,

we always say

the French have been doing it for years.

Hyde, issue a proclamation.

Permission to perform is hereby granted.

For Mrs Hughes?

To all women.

We wish to see this new Othello

at the earliest possible convenience.

Say, Saturday.

Make note, Hyde.

Saturday, Othello.

The other one.

So, Kynaston,

will you see Mrs Hughes perform?

I'd love to know

what you think of the death scene.

Oh, I'm always interested

in how my rivals die.

Your Grace?

Well, no. I've had my fill of Desdemonas.

Shall I escort you home, Mrs Hughes?

- Yes.

I'll see Mrs Hughes home.

I suddenly find myself a devotee of the stage.

Not in an artistic sense, of course.

But as a sort of patron

I'm off as well. Kynaston... shall I drop you?

Yes, I need my sleep.

We're auditioning new Emilias tomorrow,

then two shows of you know what.

Mrs Hughes, perhaps I'll see you there?

Sir Charles.

"I shall never wear this glove again. "

Mrs Hughes.

The Cockpit Tavern is no place

for someone of your particular attractions.

I think you should audition

for Mr Betterton's theatre tomorrow.

I couldn't. What about Mr Kynaston?

Surprise him.

Morning, Mr Kynaston.

Your picture's selling well.

Anyone want to buy a rabbit?

Mr Kynaston.

Mr Betterton.

I wish to discuss with you

the role of Emilia.

Bit over the top for that, aren't we, sunshine?

Not me, sir. Not me.

I come to speak

on behalf of Mrs Margaret Hughes.

- Mr Kynaston.

- Aha! Mrs Hughes. Settling in, I see.

That dress one of mine?

I made it for myself.

Oh, of course you did.

You're so good at the needle and pin.

- Mr Kynaston, I must apologise...

- Oh, no, no.

Please. Just a question, as you are

quite obviously going to audition today.

Do you know the Five Positions

of Feminine Subjugation?

What?

The Five Positions

of Feminine Subjugation. No?

Or perhaps you're more acquainted

with the Pose of Tragic Acceptance?

Or the Demeanour of Awe and Terror?

- Mr Kynaston...

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