Three Men in a Boat Page #3

a little below Magna Carta Island.

And with hardy any difficulty,

prepared the boat for the night.

Slowly the golden memory

of the dead sun faded.

The birds ceased their song.

And only the plaintive cry and harsh

croak of the moorhen and the corncrake

stirred the awed hush

around the couch of waters

where dying day breathed out her last.

Night upon her sombre throne

folds her black wings

above the darkening world,

and from her phantom palace

holds sway in stillness.

# Two lovely black eyes

# (OFF KEY) Oh

# Oh, what a surprise

# Surprise

# Oh, what a surprise

# Two lovely

# Two lovely black eyes #

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(BUGLE BLOWING)

King John had slept at Duncroft Hall.

And all the day before,

the little town of Staines has echoed

to the clang of armed men

and the clatter of horses

on its rough stones.

Since dawn, in the lower

of the two islands just above us,

there has been great clamour,

and the sound of many workmen.

(SAWING)

In the great pavilion

brought there yester eve,

carpenters are busy nailing

tiers of seats,

and up the slope of Cooper's Hill

are gathered the wondering rustics

and curious townsfolk.

And some say that much good

to all the people

will come from this day's work.

Then far down the road

in the morning sun

a cloud of dust has arisen,

and there comes a brilliant cavalcade

of gay-dressed lords and knights.

And front and rear,

there ride the yeomen of the barons,

and in their midst, King John.

The barge is waiting.

King John dismounts and takes his seat.

And slowly the heavy,

bright-decked barge leaves the shore

and works ponderously

against the current

till it grates against the bank

of the little island

that from this day will bear the name

Magna Carta Island.

We wait in breathless silence

till a great shout cleaves the air...

(PEOPLE SHOUTING)

...and the great cornerstone

in England's temple of liberty has,

now we know, been firmly laid.

(PEOPLE REJOICING)

What is the matter? Where am I?

Runnymede.

I'll be down in a minute. I think

I'll wear my black lace-up boots.

(GRUNTS)

We had made gigantic arrangements

for bathing.

I notice people always do that when

they are going anywhere near water.

We had packed three bath towels,

so as not to keep each other waiting.

Well, who's going in first?

I mean, I don't think I ought to go in

because of my kidneys.

- And because of your liver.

- Liver. Yeah, yeah.

Yes. Well, I don't think I ought to

go in because of my liver, too.

(HUMMING)

Oh, I think that'll do for today.

(EXCLAIMING)

Hello! Old J's in.

He's got more pluck than I thought.

(LAUGHING)

- Say, is it all right?

- It's lovely. Lovely.

Wouldn't have missed it for worlds.

All it wants is a little determination.

Oh, that's better.

Oh, damn it. My shirt's gone in.

(LAUGHING) Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

Well, I don't see

what's so very funny about it.

His shirt's gone in!

- Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

- Oh, do shut up.

Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

- Aren't you going to get it out?

- No.

- It's not my shirt.

- It's not his shirt.

It's yours.

You silly cuckoo!

Can't you be more careful?

You're not fit to be in a boat.

George is very dense

at seeing a joke sometimes.

He says I did it on purpose,

which of course I did not.

- Yes, you did.

- No, I didn't.

We'll have a light lunch

and eat properly tonight.

- There's some hard-boiled eggs.

- Jolly good. And the cold beef.

We can start with the potted shrimps

or the dressed crab.

- Or little of each.

- Or little of each

- and bread and butter.

- And some tomatoes.

- And finish off the ham.

- Followed by a bit of cheese.

- Or the tinned pineapple.

- Or the tinned pineapple.

Followed by a bit of cheese.

You're all at sixes and sevens.

When I say dip, dip. Dip!

(BOTH EXCLAIMING)

- Good God!

- Monty.

The thought of lunch

soon set the world to rights,

but it was not to last.

There occurred a most depressing

and tragic setback to our equanimity.

It was Harris

who first realised the situation.

- We forgot mustard.

- What?

No mustard.

Cold beef without mustard?

You hardly ever have mustard.

Well, that's why it's such a blow.

You have mustard habitually

and thoughtlessly.

You hardly know you're having it at all.

But when I want mustard, I want mustard!

This is what comes of

filling the boat up

with lemonade and bath towels

and all that useless clutter.

I knew it was a mistake to have come.

We didn't forget

the tinned pineapple, did we?

What?

Oh, pineapple.

Pineapple, first rate.

Let's have it open.

Right, that's a bit better.

Nothing quite like tinned pineapple.

Puts fresh pineapple in the shade.

It's the juice.

It's more of a syrup, really.

It's not exactly sweet,

it's not exactly bitter.

It's the way it's not exactly crunchy

and yet it's firm and clean-tasting.

Where's the opener?

Well, I'm...

I'm almost sure we've got one.

We must have.

You were supposed to bring it.

It was supposed to be in here

with all this lot.

It's not...

It's not in the banjo, is it?

- Really.

- It's just a question of...

(EXCLAIMING IN PAIN)

(GROANING)

Damn!

Ahhh!

Ahhh!

Ahh!

- Just be careful.

- Ah!

(GROANING)

Let me, let me, let me!

Let me!

(GRUNTING)

(SOBBING)

Ahhh!

And we got into our boat

and rode away from that spot

and never paused

till we reached Maidenhead.

Maidenhead is a town of showy hotels,

a snobbish place for the river swell

and his overdressed female companion,

patronised chiefly

by dudes and ballet girls.

The London Journal duke always has

his little place at Maidenhead.

And the heroine of the

three-volume novel always dines there

when she goes out on the spree

with somebody else's husband.

Maidenhead, too, is the witch's kitchen

which harbours that deceptively charming

demon of the river,

the steam launch.

But all that is left behind at Boulters.

Between Boulters and Cookham locks

is perhaps the sweetest stretch

of all the river.

Cliveden Woods still wore

their dainty dress of spring,

and rose up from the water's edge

in one long harmony

of blended shades of fairy green.

It always makes me feel...

I don't know...

It makes me feel...

...like a drink.

- It makes me feel like a drink, too.

Yes.

It's the exercise, the fresh air.

- It's the rowing. Yes.

- The breathing.

HARRIS:
All that fresh air

and exercise...

It makes me feel as though I've got...

Yes, it makes me feel

as though I've got...

...a bit of wind.

- That's it.

I've got it, too. I've been a martyr

to it from earliest boyhood.

I was born with it.

- No, no, no, Harris. A breeze.

- Hmm?

Oh, good heavens!

Shh! Don't say anything.

By Jove! I think it's in our favour.

- Quiet, man, they'll hear you.

- Act casual.

But we had spoken too soon,

or too loudly.

Or perhaps they had spotted

George's blazer.

For they were having sport with us,

as flies to wanton boys.

- Luff, luff to leeward!

- Idiot.

- Why are you taking the sail down?

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