Ramblings

While following the Edward Lear trail earlier this year, we visited Down(e) in Kent, where Jim Grant carried out a superb re-enactment of There was an Old Person of Down. At the time he was working on writing and presenting a school play about Edward Lear with year seven and year eight pupils. Jim reported that they were loving getting to know Lear.

His work bore rich fruit. I was unfortunately unable to see the play, but by all accounts the production went down extremely well when it was performed in June. The play is called How Pleasant to Know Mr Lear, and introduces the audience to the great man and his work.

Jim was kind enough to send through the script. On reading it and seeing the accompanying photographs, I realised just what I had missed. The play is outstanding, and the cast obviously had a wonderful time: it clearly succeeded in bringing the magic of Edward Lear’s work to the stage, while honestly addressing the more difficult aspects of Lear’s life. It captures perfectly the joy and the sadness which ran through both Lear’s life and his work.

Jim has very kindly allowed me to publish the full text of the play, and I am delighted and privileged to do so here, with photographs. Enjoy.

(Note: Jim Grant’s school production featured over fifty children performing Lear’s nonsense works in the play – here those parts are each described simply as “CHILD”.)

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HOW PLEASANT TO KNOW MR LEAR

by Jim Grant

Preset: a large projection screen USC, on which a series of Lear-related images is projected as the audience enters. A table, set for tea, and two chairs USR. A large cat basket labelled ‘FOSS’ USL. Large Victorian-style children’s alphabet play bricks stacked US, SR and SL.

1. Ending

Darkness. Loud fairground music. A sudden bright spotlight reveals LEAR in the throes of an epileptic fit. The CHILDREN enter as fairgoers, notice LEAR and begin to laugh at him, cruelly.

Suddenly they stop as the music segues into the sound of waves.

CHILD looks at the audience, then recites a Lear limerick.

CHILD (same). There was an old man who screamed out
Whenever they knocked him about;
So they took off his boots,
And fed him with fruits,
And continued to knock him about.

Two more CHILDREN then recite ‘Old Man/Person’ limericks, and then the rest join in – a cacophony of limericks, which ends as LEAR suddenly stiffens and lies still.

The CHILDREN surround him, worried. LEAR sits up, and laughs, and the CHILDREN become an audience of children, sitting and laughing with him.

LEAR. There was an Old Derry down Derry,
who loved to see little folks merry;
So he made them a Book,
and with laughter they shook
At the fun of that Derry down Derry.

The CHILDREN rush to crowd round LEAR, becoming more like a group of beggars. GIORGIO pushes through the crowd, ‘rescuing’ LEAR and shooing them away. As they talk, he helps LEAR on with waistcoat, jacket, etc. FOSS watches from a distance.

2. The Wrong Beginning.

GIORGIO. Mr Edward! Mr Edward!
LEAR. Ah! Giorgio! Where the devil have you been?
GIORGIO. I have been anywheres, Mr Edward.
LEAR. Anyhweres.
GIORGIO. Si. Si. Anywheres. I look for you, Mr Edward.
LEAR. What happened?
GIORGIO. The Demon. He come for you and I not here.
LEAR. Ah. Yes. I see.
GIORGIO. No Mr Edward. [He gives LEAR his glasses]. NOW you see. See?
LEAR. See?
GIORGIO. Si. See. The Owl, the Pussycat – they go to SEA. See? Very funny.
LEAR. There are times I regret explaining puns to you, Giorgio. [Looks about]. Where am I?
GIORGIO. Home, now Mr Edward.
LEAR. But how –
GIORGIO. San Remo, Italy.
LEAR. Yes, of course. But, where was I?
GIORGIO. The Villa Emily.
LEAR. I don’t remember –
GIORGIO. See, the table is ready.
LEAR. For tea.
GIORGIO. Si, Mr Edward. Tea with very important person.
LEAR. Really?
GIORGIO. His majesty the Queens Victoria. She come today. All San Remo peoples very excited. Flags anyhweres.

FOSS yawns loudly. Stretches.

LEAR. Oh yes. Now I remember, but that was – and Giorgio – Giorgio – you’re dead.
FOSS. You’re both dead.
GIORGIO. [To FOSS] Hey – you keep out of it!
FOSS. We’re all dead.
GIORGIO. [To LEAR] Dead. Giorgio? You very funny man, Mr Edward. [To FOSS] Stupida cat – shoo! [To LEAR] Here, sit.
FOSS. You’re not helping, Giorgio.
GIORGIO. I no listen to a stupida talking cat.

FOSS makes his way DS to address audience.

FOSS. Perhaps I should explain. I expect you’re lost already. My name is Foss. I’m a cat. The beloved, cat, in fact, of one Mr Edward Lear, celebrated artist, travel writer, poet, amateur musician and entertainer. You probably don’t know much about him. Which is why we’re here. To get to know Mr Lear. We should have begun at the beginning, of course, and you know cats can’t talk. It’s nonsense. But then, nonsense is Edward Lear’s greatest achievement.
GIORGIO. Eh, stupida cat. Get on with it!
FOSS. That’s Lear’s faithful servant, Giorgio.
GIORGIO. Setta the scene.
FOSS. This is a terrible place to start.

GIORGIO. You want me to cut the rest of your tail off?!

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] San Remo, on the Italian Riviera. It’s 1882. Lear is 70. And he is waiting for Queen Victoria to come to tea.
LEAR. God bless the queen and may she live heaps of years! Coming to tea in San Remo!
FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] But she’s not coming. [To GIORGIO] She never came, remember Giorgio?
GIORGIO. I no listen. Stupida cat.
FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] Lear lived in San Remo for the last sixteen years of his life. That’s when he acquired me. He was inordinately fond of me. So much so he immortalised me in innumerable drawings and a poem – maybe you’ve heard of it – ‘The Owl and the Pussycat’. When I died – some six months before him – he had me buried with my own gravestone. He seems to have thought I was 31! More nonsense, of course. Nonsense born of love.

An awkward silence.

LEAR. Now what?
FOSS. Exactly. What now, Giorgio?
GIORGIO. Now we wait.
LEAR. Of course I knew the Queen. Have I told you about that?
FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] It’s true. Young Queen Victoria engaged Lear as her art teacher.
LEAR. I know it’s not proper to call a sovereign a duck, but she was. An absolute dear and a duck.

3. A Drawing Lesson.

QUEEN VICTORIA has entered. She is finishing a drawing.

QUEEN. Well, Mr Lear?

LEAR rises and goes to inspect the drawing.

LEAR. Your majesty.
FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] Buckingham Palace, August 1846. Lear is 34 and has recently published his Illustrated Excursions in Italy. Queen Victoria is 27.
LEAR. Yes. Very good, your majesty. Excellent, in fact.
QUEEN. I am, I hope, improving?
LEAR. Most assuredly, your majesty. Splendid progress.
QUEEN. But?
LEAR. If I might? –
QUEEN. Please do Mr Lear.
LEAR. The shading – in the foreground – here – might be a little heavier.
QUEEN. Yes I see. You are an excellent teacher, Mr Lear.
LEAR. Your majesty is too kind.
QUEEN. So much better than Landseer. He was very unreliable. Do you like the palace?
LEAR. Very much. Such beauty everywhere. How did you get all these beautiful things?
QUEEN. I inherited them, Mr Lear. I must say I prefer Osborne House. So does Albert. So much more private. And better for the children. You like children, Mr Lear?
LEAR. Very much. Indeed I have this year published a book of nonsense rhymes for children.
QUEEN. How interesting.
LEAR. I wrote them to amuse the children of Lord Stanley and his friends. [He recites one]
There was an Old Person whose habits,
Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
When he’d eaten eighteen,
He turned perfectly green,
Upon which he relinquished those habits.

There is an awkward, baffled pause.

QUEEN. We are not amused, Mr Lear.
FOSS. Oh, come on, she didn’t say that.
GIORGIO. She Queen Victoria. Anyones knows she say ‘we are not amused’.
FOSS. I despair.
QUEEN. You always draw from nature, Mr Lear?
LEAR. Yes, yes I do – my initial sketches certainly.
QUEEN. I intend to undertake some excursions by pony in the Highlands, and I shall take my sketch book.
LEAR. A capital idea, your majesty.
QUEEN. You see, your other book has been quite the inspiration, Mr Lear.
LEAR. Thank you, your majesty.
QUEEN. There. Better?
LEAR. Much better, your majesty.
QUEEN. Good. Now if you will excuse me, I must discuss the Irish famine with Lord Russell.
LEAR. Your majesty.

LEAR bows and withdraws.

QUEEN. So sad about Mr Peel. And all those starving children. So sad.
LEAR. Your majesty.

VICTORIA exits. LEAR looks at the tea table.

4. A Better Beginning.

LEAR. Giorgio! What shall we give the queen for tea? She must have nothing but the finest comestible concoctions!

CHICHESTER FORTESCUE has entered.

FORTESCUE. They say she’s rather partial to macaroons.
LEAR. Fortescue!
FORTESCUE. I’d get Giorgio to make some macaroons toot sweet.
GIORGIO. I bake them this morning, see?
LEAR. You’re not the queen!
FORTESCUE. I should jolly well hope not.
LEAR. You shouldn’t be here. Not now.
FORTESCUE. A fine welcome for an old friend, I must say!
LEAR. No, it’s splendid to see you my dear fellow, of course. But – but this is all wrong.
FORTESCUE. No, no old chap. Everything is as it should be. [To GIORGIO and FOSS] Doesn’t he know what’s going on?
FOSS. Not yet.
FORTESCUE. Good grief.
FOSS. Giorgio hasn’t the heart to tell him.
FORTESCUE. What about you?
FOSS. I’m a cat.
FORTESCUE. So?
FOSS. I can’t speak.
FORTESCUE. You’re speaking to me.
FOSS. That’s different.
FORTESCUE. Oh, this is nonsense.
FOSS. Exactly.
FORTESCUE. You’re making a total pig’s ear of it.
FOSS. Not me. Him.
FORTESCUE. I’m taking over.
FOSS. By all means.
FORTESCUE. [To AUDIENCE] Chichester Fortescue.
FOSS. Bless you!
FORTESCUE. It’s my name.
FOSS. And a very impressive name it is too.
FORTESCUE. Though by 1882 I was Lord Carlingford, and Privy Seal in Mr Gladstone’s government.
FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] One of Lear’s friends in high places.
FORTESCUE. Now, let’s create some order out of this chaos, shall we? Lear, my dear fellow.
LEAR. Yes?
FORTESCUE. There’s something we need to tell you.
GIORGIO. No.
FORTESCUE. Yes, Giorgio.
LEAR. My dear Fortescue, what is it?
FORTESCUE. Well, I’m not sure how to put this, but –

Sound of fireworks.

FORTESCUE. What the blazes –
GIORGIO. See Mr Edward! The whole of San Remo happy for his majesty the Queens!

They look at the fireworks.

LEAR. Fireworks. I remember the fireworks.

ANN has entered. She takes LEAR’S hand.

ANN. Look Edward!
FORTESCUE. Where are we now? Who’s she?
FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] 1815. London is celebrating Wellington’s victory at Waterloo. Edward’s sister Ann has woken him and taken him outside their house in Highgate. He is three years old. She is 24.
ANN. That nasty little man Napoleon has been defeated, Edward. The war is over, and all London is alight with joy.

The fireworks fade.

LEAR. I remember lots of things.
ANN. Of course you do.
LEAR. Ann?
GIORGIO. Mr Edward?
LEAR. My life is a series of pictures seen through memory’s arch.
GIORGIO. He need to sit down.
LEAR. I quite distinctly remember being born. At Highgate, 12 May 1812.
FOSS. Well that really is nonsense.
GIORGIO. He no well.
FOSS. No one remembers being born.
FORTESCUE. But it’s a better place to start. Go on, my dear chap. Tell us about being born.
LEAR. [To ANN] You’re my sister, Ann.
ANN. That’s right Edward dear.
LEAR. I had many brothers and sisters.
ANN. We were a big family.

A BUTLER has entered.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] That’s true. Lear was the second youngest child of –
BUTLER. [Announcing] Mr and Mrs Jeremiah Lear!

MR & MRS LEAR enter, then watch their children come on. The CHILDREN are children, who line up in height order.

FOSS. For over twenty years, Mrs Lear was almost permanently pregnant. There’s some dispute as to how many little Lears she produced, however. Some say 17. Others 21.

Four more children join the line.

ANN. In fact, there were 19.

Two children leave the line. LEAR initially joins the line.

ANN. Of course, child mortality was high in those days, and four died in infancy.

Four children leave the line. MRS LEAR become increasingly distressed as they go.
LEAR runs to his mother to show her a picture he has drawn, but she turns away from him and exits. LEAR crumples the drawing and sits DSC.

FOSS. This fourth loss hit Mrs Lear hard. Grieving, she rejected her new baby completely. Little Edward felt the pangs of separation all his life.

5. The Scroobius Pip – Beasts.

The BEASTS enter and close in on LEAR, reminiscent of the opening image.

ALL. The Scroobius Pip!

CHILD. The Scroobious Pip went out one day –
CHILD. When the grass was green –
CHILD. and the sky was grey.
CHILD. Then all the beasts in the world came round –
CHILD. When the Scroobious Pip sat down on the ground.
CHILD. The cat –
CHILD. and the dog –
CHILD. and the kangaroo
CHILD. The sheep –
CHILD. and the cow –
CHILD. and the guineapig too –
CHILD. The wolf he howled –
CHILD. the horse he neighed –
CHILD. The guineapig squeaked –
CHILD. and the donkey brayed –
CHILD. And when the lion began to roar –
CHILD. There never was heard such a noise before.
CHILD. And every beast he stood on the tip
Of his toes –
CHILD. to look at the Scroobious Pip.
CHILD. At last they said to the Fox –
CHILD. By far,
You’re the wisest beast! –
CHILD. You know you are!
CHILD. Go close to Scroobious Pip and say –
CHILD. Tell us all about yourself we pray-
For as yet we can’t make out in the least
If you’re Fish or Insect, or Bird or Beast.
CHILD. The Scroobious Pip looked vaguely round –
CHILD. And sang these words with a rumbling sound –
LEAR. Chippetty Flip; Flippetty Chip;-
My only name is the Scroobious Pip.

The BEASTS scatter, leaving LEAR alone again. He takes out a pencil and a scrap of paper and begins to write.

6. The Demon Epilepsy.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] So Lear’s sister Ann brought him up.
ANN. I did my best.
FORTESCUE. His mother’s estrangement wasn’t the only affliction of his childhood.
ANN. Soon after the war ended, father’s business failed, and we had to leave our lovely house. It was a great humiliation.
FOSS. And young Edward was an unhealthy child.
ANN. He had dreadful asthma and bronchitis. And he was very short-sighted.

The others are staring at ANN.

ANN. And… yes, well there was the other thing.
GIORGIO. She meana the Demon.
ANN. Yes. The fits.
FOSS. Edward had his first epileptic seizure aged 6 or 7, after a visit to the fair with his father.
GIORGIO. He never wanta talk about the Demon.
FOSS. I know, Giorgio. Amazingly, Lear kept his seizures secret from just about everyone throughout his life.
GIORGIO. He know when the Demon come for him.
FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] So he could sense when a seizure was coming and isolate himself. He was always deeply ashamed of them. [To ANN] That was your fault.
ANN. I was trying to help. The Demon only comes to little boys who play with themselves.
FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] It wasn’t a Demon, of course – it was what we now understand and treat as temporal lobe epilepsy. But it left a little boy feeling lonely, guilty and painfully different.
LEAR. Alas, how fearful a birthright was mine! I wonder if others suffer similarly? Yet I dare not ask.

7. The Scroobius Pip – Insects.

The INSECTS enter and close in on LEAR, this time in a more menacing way.

CHILD. The scroobious Pip sat under a tree –
CHILD. By the silent shores of the Jellybolee;
CHILD. All the insects in all the world –
CHILD. About the Scroobious Pip entwirled.
CHILD. Beetles and Weevils with purple eyes
CHILD. Gnats –
CHILD. and buzztilential Flies –
CHILD. Grasshoppers –
CHILD. Butterflies –
CHILD. Spiders too –
CHILD. Wasps –
CHILD. and bees –
CHILD. and dragon-flies blue –
CHILD. And when the gnats began to hum –
CHILD. And fleas bounced like a dismal drum –
CHILD. And every insect curled the tip
Of his snout –
CHILD. and looked at the Scroobious Pip.
CHILD. At last they said to the Ant –
CHILD. By far
You’re the wisest insect –
CHILD. you know you are!
CHILD. Creep close to the Scroobious Pip and say –
CHILD. Tell us all about yourself we pray,
For we can’t find out, and we can’t tell why –
If you’re beast or fish or a bird or a fly.
CHILD. The Scroobious Pip turned quickly round –
CHILD. And sang these words with a whistly sound –
LEAR. Wizzeby wip – wizzeby wip –
ALL. Wizzeby wip – wizzeby wip –
My only name is the Scroobious Pip.

The INSECTS laugh at LEAR, then leave him, again, alone.

8. Trauma.

FORTESCUE. [To AUDIENCE] At the hands of his sister, Lear received a woman’s education.
LEAR. She was always good to me. What I should have been unless she had been my mother I dare not think.
ANN. Drawing, music, literature, natural history – and fun! We had such fun.
FORTESCUE. He lasted no time at all at school –
ANN. Bullied by those hateful boys.
FOSS. But even at home he was vulnerable.

HENRY and FREDERICK have entered.

FOSS. Easter 1822. Lear is 9. His brother Henry and cousin Frederick, fresh from their army service, find him alone.

HENRY and FREDERICK circle LEAR with menace.

HENRY. Then all the beasts that walk on the ground
Danced in a circle round and round –
FREDERICK. And all the insects that creep or go
Buzzed in a circle to and fro.
BOTH. And they roared and sang and whistled and cried
Till the noise was heard from side to side –
HENRY. Chippetty Flip –
FREDERICK. Wizzeby wip –

BLACKOUT. LEAR screams.

Lights up on LEAR crying. HENRY and FREDERICK standing over him.

BOTH. Its only name is the Scroobious Pip.

They leave. GIORGIO helps LEAR up. Gives him his glasses.

GIORGIO. They hurt him.
LEAR. The greatest Evil done to me in life. And which must last now to the end. In spite of all reason and effort.

9. The Scroobius Pip – Birds.

Birdsong. Sunlight. Music: Calico Pie. LEAR looks up. ANN gives him his sketch book. GIORGIO brings him a stool/seat. He begins to draw, smiling.

The BIRDS enter.

CHILD. The Scroobious Pip from the top of a tree
Saw the distant Jellybolee –
CHILD. And all the birds in the world came there –
CHILD. Flying in crowds all through the air.
CHILD. The Vulture –
CHILD. and Eagle –
TWO CHILDREN. the Cock and the Hen
CHILD. The Ostrich –
CHILD. the Turkey –
CHILD. the Snipe and the Wren
CHILD. The Parrot chattered –
CHILD. the Blackbird sung –
CHILD. And the owl looked wise but held his tongue –
CHILD. And when the Peacock began to scream
The hullabaloo was quite extreme.
CHILD. And every bird he fluttered the tip
Of his wing –
CHILD. as he stared at the Scroobious Pip.
TWO CHILDREN. At last they said to the owl –
CHILD. By far,
You’re the wisest Bird –
CHILD. you know you are!
Fly close to the Scroobious Pip and say –
CHILD. Explain all about yourself we pray –
For as yet we have neither seen nor heard
If you’re fish or insect, beast or bird!
CHILD. The Scroobious Pip looked gaily round –
CHILD. And sang these words with a chirpy sound-
LEAR. Chippetty Flip; Flippetty Chip;-
My only name is the Scroobious Pip.
BIRDS. Chippetty Flip; Flippetty Chip;-
His only name is the Scroobious Pip!

The CHILDREN skip out, repeating the refrain.

10. Drawing the Parrots.

Other CHILDREN enter as visitors to London Zoo.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] April 27, 1828. The opening of the London Zoological Gardens. Lear is 16.
ANN. By then he had been forced to leave the family home. I had a small allowance and he lived with me.

The CHILDREN are pointing, laughing and mimicking the animals.

FORTESCUE. The Zoo was not intended for public entertainment.
CHILDREN. EH?!

The CHILDREN abruptly look at FORTESCUE.

FORTESCUE. At the time it was open only to fellows of the London Zoological Society and their guests. For the advancement of scientific understanding.
CHILDREN. Aah!

The CHILDREN become serious and scientific.

ANN. A family friend invited Edward to the zoo.

The CHILDREN become animals in the zoo.

FOSS. He especially loved the birds in the enormous aviary.

Exotic bird sounds. The CHILDREN all look up.

ANN. Edward was making a meagre living as an artist.
LEAR. I was drawing for bread and cheese. Cheap sketches and morbid disease drawings for doctors.
ANN. But now he could revel in painting those beguiling birds.
FORTESCUE. The fellows of the society recognised his talent. Before long he was being commissioned to produce illustrations for scientific papers. And by 1831 he was working on a book of parrot prints – each one life-size and accurate to the last feather.

Some CHILDREN line up as parrots. LORD STANLEY has entered.

CHILD. The Salmon-Crested Cockatoo.
CHILD. The Red and Yellow Macaw.
CHILD. The Black-Tailed Parakeet.
CHILD. The Red-Capped Parakeet.
CHILD. The Cockatiel.
CHILD. The Stanley Parakeet.

FOSS attempts to catch one of the parrots and they scatter, squawking.

STANLEY. That’s how we met, remember, Lear?
LEAR. I do. Yes.
FOSS. Lord Edward Stanley, son of the Earl of Derby, and owner of the largest private zoo in the world.
STANLEY. Very fine work, young man. Very fine indeed.
LEAR. Thank you. It’s a Stanley Parakeet.
STANLEY. I know. Beautiful, isn’t it?
LEAR. It is.
STANLEY. You always work from life?
LEAR. If I can.
STANLEY. Gould uses stuffed birds.
LEAR. Mr Gould and I differ on that matter.
STANLEY. I see.
LEAR. Among others.
STANLEY. I see.
LEAR. Stuffed birds aren’t…don’t…stuffed birds are just –
STANLEY. Dead?
LEAR. Well, yes.

They laugh.

STANLEY. You’re Lear.
LEAR. Yes. How do you do –
STANLEY. I want you to come and work for me.
LEAR. I beg your pardon?
STANLEY. I’ve a large menagerie at Knowsley and I’d like it to be recorded accurately.
LEAR. Oh. Well –
STANLEY. You’re the cove for me. I’ll pay you well enough, and you can stay at the Hall.
LEAR. But –
STANLEY. When can you start?
LEAR. Well, I’m –
STANLEY. June too early?
LEAR. Well, no –
STANLEY. Capital! I’ll see you at Knowsley Hall. [Starts to leave].
LEAR. I’m sorry, I don’t know who –
STANLEY. Stanley. Lord Stanley. Let me know if you need anything, won’t you? Pencils and whatnot. Goodbye.

STANLEY doesn’t leave. LEAR is perplexed.

STANLEY. What?
LEAR. You’re still here.
STANLEY. Of course.
LEAR. Everyone’s still here. Am I dreaming?
FORTESCUE. Not exactly. Look, old chap –
GIORGIO. Here, Mr Edward, sit.
LEAR. No, Giorgio, it’s all right. It’s all coming back to me now. Knowsley Hall.

11. Knowsley.

They all look out front as if standing before a stately home.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] Knowsley Hall, Lancashire.
STANLEY. Seat of the Stanleys, Earls of Derby, since 1702. As big as Buckingham Palace.
FORTESCUE. And just as ugly.

CHILDREN enter as aristocratic house guests.

STANLEY. In 1832 it was one of the great country houses of the English aristocracy.
FOSS. And home to the largest menagerie in the world.

CHILDREN turn into animals. BUTLER has entered.

ANN. If Edward hoped he was going to hobnob with the rich friends and family of Lord Stanley, he was disappointed.

CHILDREN morph back in to aristocrats and look suspiciously at LEAR.

LEAR. Good afternoon.
BUTLER. And who might you be?
LEAR. My name is Lear.
BUTLER. Oh. You’re the painter.
LEAR. Artist, yes. I believe Lord Stanley is expecting me.
BUTLER. His Lordship is dining with guests. You’ll be eating with the servants.

The CHILDREN laugh and point at LEAR. FREDERICK and HENRY re-enter.

HENRY. Who does he think he is?
FREDERICK. He fancies himself a gentleman.
HENRY. He calls himself an artist.
FREDERICK. Artist my arse! He’s nothing but a damned dirty little painter.
HENRY. He dreams of being a writer, like Byron.
FREDERICK. But Byron was a LORD!
HENRY. A hero who swam the Hellespont –
FREDERICK. A proper poet –
HENRY. He’s just a weedy scribbler –
FREDERICK. Whose father was a bankrupt.
HENRY. He’ll end up like all the others –
FREDERICK. Married –
HENRY. Mortgaged –
FREDERICK. Miserable –
HENRY. Dead.

HENRY and FREDERICK leave.

12. Mr & Mrs Discobbolos Part 1.

BUTLER. Mr and Mrs Discobbolos!

MR & MRS DISCOBBOLOS enter, meet, fall in love and marry. The CHILDREN build a wall for them to climb out of the play bricks.

CHILD. Mr and Mrs Discobbolos
Climbed to the top of a wall,
CHILD. And they sat to watch the sunset sky

CHILD. And to hear the Nupiter Piffkin cry
CHILD. And the Biscuit Buffalo call.
CHILD. They took up a roll and some Chamomile tea,
CHILD. And both were as happy as happy could be –
CHILD. Till Mrs Discobbolos said, –
MRS D. Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
It has just come into my head –
Suppose we should happen to fall!!!!!
Darling Mr Discobbolos?
Suppose we should fall down flumpetty
Just like two pieces of stone!
On to the thorns, – or into the moat!
What would become of your new green coat?
And might you not break a bone?
It never occurred to me before –
That perhaps we shall never go down any more!
CHILD. And Mrs Discobbolos said –
MRS D. Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
What put it into your head
To climb up this wall? – my own
Darling Mr Discobbolos?
CHILD. Mr Discobbolos answered, –
MR D. At first it gave me pain, –
And I felt my ears turn perfectly pink
When your exclamation made me think
We might never get down again!
But now I believe it is wiser far
To remain for ever just where we are. –
CHILD. And Mr Discobbolos said,
MR D. Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
It has just come into my head –
– We shall never go down again –
Dearest Mrs Discobbolos.!
CHILD. So Mr and Mrs Discobbolos
Stood up –
CHILD. and began to sing –
CHILD. Far away from hurry and strife
MRS D. Here we will pass the rest of life –
MR D. Ding a dong, ding dong –
MRS D. ding!
MR D. We want no knives nor forks nor chairs,
MRS D. No tables nor carpets –
MR D. nor household cares,
From worry of life we’ve fled –
MRS D. Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
MR D. There is no more trouble ahead
Sorrow or any such thing –
BOTH. For Mr and Mrs Discobbolos!

MR & MRS DISCOBBOLOS exit and the wall is broken up. Other CHILDREN enter as children. LEAR sits CS. The children are suspicious of him at first but soon sit around him enthralled.

13. Nonsense Beginnings.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] Being with the servants at Knowsley meant being close to the nursery and the many children of Lord Stanley’s wealthy guests.

CHILD. What’s your name?
LEAR. Mr Abebika Kratoponoko Prizzikalo Kattefello Ablegorabalus. Professor Bosh for short.
CHILD. What do you do?
LEAR. I draw birds. And I make up rhymes.
CHILDREN. Go on then!
LEAR. There was an old man of Peru –
Who watched his wife making a stew;
But once by mistake,
In a stove she did bake
That unfortunate man of Peru.
FOSS. And before long he was in constant demand.
CHILDREN. There was a Young Lady whose bonnet,
Came untied when the birds sat upon it;
LEAR. But she said: ‘I don’t care!
All the birds in the air
Are welcome to sit on my bonnet!’
GIORGIO. The children they lovva Mr Edward. They calla him Unclear.
FOSS. Uncle Lear, Giorgio.
GIORGIO. Is what I said.
LEAR. There was an old man on the Border,
Who lived in the utmost disorder;
CHILDREN. He danced with the cat,
LEAR. And made tea in his hat,
Which vexed all the folks on the Border.
FORTESCUE. Before long they spent more time with Lear than their parents.
CHILD. [Setting a challenge] There was an Old Man of Bohemia…
LEAR. Whose daughter was christened Euphemia.
Till one day to his grief –
CHILD. She married a thief!
LEAR. Which grieved that Old Man of Bohemia.

The BUTLER enters and rings a bell.

LEAR. Time for tea! What shall we have?
CHILD. Mince and Slices of Quince!
CHILD. Veal cutlets and chocolate drops!
CHILD. Eggs and buttercups fried with fish!
CHILD. Amblongous Pie!
CHILD. Crombobblious Cutlets
CHILD. Gosky Patties!
CHILD. Forty bottles of Ring Bo Ree!
CHILD. And no end of stilton cheese!

The CHILDREN run off.

FORTESCUE. [To AUDIENCE] That’s how Lear’s nonsense was born.
STANLEY. And the adults grew jealous. We wanted Lear to entertain us. And he did – with comic songs, jokes and wit. He brightened our evenings.
ANN. When Edward returned to Knowsley the following summer, things were different.

14. Changing the Landscape.

The BUTLER has entered. He greets LEAR enthusiastically. He takes LEAR’S bag.

BUTLER. Mr Lear! Very good to see you sir!
LEAR. How are you, Jenkins?
BUTLER. Very well, thank you sir.
LEAR. Jolly good.
BUTLER. I’ll take these to your room – Cook has just made a veal and ham pie in your honour.
LEAR. Capital!
STANLEY. Mr Lear! Mr Lear! Come up and join us. Jenkins, take Mr Lear’s things to the blue room. He’s my guest, Jenkins, not a servant.
BUTLER. Certainly, my Lord. [To LEAR] You’re one of the gentry now, Mr Lear.
LEAR. Still just a painter, I fear. I’ll pop down for the veal and ham pie later, Jenkins.
BUTLER. I’ll make sure the footmen don’t scoff it, Mr Lear.

FORTESCUE. [To AUDIENCE] So Lear entered polite society, and soon the sky was dark with invitations to country houses and elegant London soirees.
ANN. And soon Edward had a number of rich patrons, wanting to buy his paintings.
STANLEY. But they didn’t want to fill their walls with pictures of parrots, eh Lear?
LEAR. What? No. Indeed not.
FOSS. Animals will only get you so far in the world of art.
STANLEY. They wanted views of beautiful places.
LEAR. Landscapes.
STANLEY. Exactly.
LEAR. I went to the Lake District.
STANLEY. One simply had to go to the Lakes.
FORTESCUE. Gainsborough, Constable, Turner – they all went to the Lakes.
LEAR. The hills are my family. The elements, trees, clouds, silence – seem to have more part with me than people.
FORTESCUE. But those people wanted pictures of places they couldn’t easily get to.
STANLEY. Far-flung places. Images of empire. Exotic talking points.
FORTESCUE. They wanted to journey without leaving their drawing rooms.
STANLEY. So Lear would have to travel.
ANN. Oh yes – and for his health, too – those cold, foggy London winters were so bad for his lungs.
FORTESCUE. But travel costs money.
STANLEY. And that’s where I could be of assistance.

LEAR is at his easel. STANLEY watches him working.

STANLEY. Splendid picture, Lear.
LEAR. Thank you, my Lord.
STANLEY. What place is that?
LEAR. Helvellyn.
STANLEY. You liked the Lake District.
LEAR. The mountains are my new family.
STANLEY. You sound like that fellow Wordsworth.
LEAR. Scafell Pike is my cousin, and Skiddaw is my mother-in-law.
STANLEY. Awfully cold, though. The Lake District.
LEAR. And wet.
STANLEY. Wet, yes.
LEAR. I had a cough and sore throat the whole time I was there.
STANLEY. That’s why I – and a few friends – want you to go to Rome.
LEAR. Rome!?
STANLEY. They say it’s where all the best artists go.
LEAR. To work and study in Rome is a dream I have long nursed.
STANLEY. We have plenty of commissions to keep you busy.

The BUTLER hands LEAR his bag and an oversized passport. CHILDREN enter and stand/sit on bricks placed around the stage. As LEAR ‘travels’ from place to place, they pretend to stamp his passport.

15. Travelling.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] Edward Lear thus embarked on the first of his travels.
ANN. That was 1837.
FOSS. Lear was 25.
LEAR. The excitement of opening one’s eyes and exploring the world around, of discovering undreamt-of lands and wonders not only unseen but scarcely even imagined!
ANN. From then on, he spent more time away from England than in it.

ALL. The Many Journeys of Edward Lear!

TWO CHILDREN. 1837.
Paris. Then Rome – via Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany and Switzerland.

There was an old lady of France,
Who taught little ducklings to dance;
When she said, ‘Tick-a-Tack!’
They only said, ‘Quack!’
Which grieved that old lady of France.

TWO CHILDREN. 1837 to 1842.
Italy!
Florence, Naples, Calabria –

There was an old person of Florence,
Who held mutton chops in abhorrence;
He purchased a Bustard,
And fried him in Mustard,
Which choked that old person of Florence.

TWO CHILDREN. Apulia, Sicily and the Abruzzi.

There was an Old Man of Apulia,
Whose conduct was very peculiar
He fed twenty sons,
Upon nothing but buns,
That whimsical Man of Apulia.

TWO CHILDREN. 1848.
Malta and Corfu.

There was an Old Man of Corfu,
Who never knew what he should do;
So he rushed up and down,
Till the sun made him brown,
That bewildered Old Man of Corfu.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] In 1856, to make travelling easier, Lear employed Giorgio Kokalis, an Albanian living in Corfu, as his servant.
GIORGIO. I travel anywheres with Mr Edward.
LEAR. Giorgio Kokalis, sober, honest, and active, saves me all trouble and gives none, carrying everything for a twenty-mile walk or more, keeping off dogs and bystanders when I am drawing, cooking and cleaning when stationary.
GIORGIO. He likes my cookings.
LEAR. A man of few words and constant work.
GIORGIO. And I learns to make his favourite.
LEAR & GIORGIO. Bread and butter pudding!
LEAR. Scrumptiously deluscious!
FOSS. With Giorgio ever in tow, Lear continued to travel and draw for the next twenty years.

TWO CHILDREN. 1858.
Jerusalem, Petra, Lebanon.

There was a Young Person of Smyrna,
Whose Grandmother threatened to burn her;
But she seized on the cat,
And said, ‘Granny, burn that!
You incongruous Old Woman of Smyrna!’

TWO CHILDREN. 1863.
The Ionian Islands.

There was an old person of Paxo,
Who complained when the fleas bit his back so;
But they gave him a chair
And impelled him to swear,
Which relieved that old person of Paxo.

THREE CHILDREN. 1864.
Crete and Nice.

There was an old person of Nice,
Whose associates were usually Geese.
They walked out together,
In all sorts of weather.
That affable person of Nice.

TWO CHILDREN. 1866.
Egypt and the Nile.

There was an Old Man of the Nile,
Who sharpened his nails with a file,
Till he cut off his thumbs,
And said calmly, ‘This comes
Of sharpening one’s nails with a file!’

TWO CHILDREN. 1868.
Corsica and Cannes.

There was a young lady of Corsica,
Who purchased a little brown saucy-cur;
Which she fed upon ham,
And hot raspberry jam,
That expensive young lady of Corsica.

TWO CHILDREN. 1873.
India and Ceylon.

There was an Old Man of Madras,
Who rode on a cream-coloured ass;
But the length of its ears,
So promoted his fears,
That it killed that Old Man of Madras.

CHILD blows a whistle.

CHILD (same). All aboard!

CHILDREN become travellers – sequence of leaving, catching trains etc – sounds of locomotives, ships’ horns etc. Which evolves into THE JUMBLIES.

16. The Jumblies.

ALL. The Jumblies!

CHILD. They went to sea in a Sieve –
CHILD. They did! –
CHILD. In a Sieve they went to sea!
CHILD. In spite of all their friends could say –
CHILD. On a winter’s morn –
CHILD. On a stormy day –
CHILD. In a Sieve they went to sea!
CHILD. And when the Sieve turned round and round,
And everyone cried –
CHILD. You’ll all be drowned!
CHILD. They called aloud –
JUMBLIES. Our Sieve ain’t big,
But we don’t care a button! we don’t care a fig!
In a Sieve we’ll go to sea!
ALL. Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
CHILD. They sailed away in a Sieve, they did,
In a Sieve they sailed so fast –
CHILD. With only a beautiful pea-green veil
Tied with a riband by way of a sail,
To a small tobacco-pipe mast.
CHILD. And everyone said, who saw them go –
CHILD. O won’t they be soon upset, you know!
CHILD. For the sky is dark –
CHILD. and the voyage is long –
CHILD. And happen what may, it’s extremely wrong
In a Sieve to sail so fast!
ALL. Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.
CHILD. The water it soon came in, it did,
The water it soon came in.
CHILD. So to keep them dry, they wrapped their feet
In a pinky paper all folded neat –
CHILD. And they fastened it down with a pin.
CHILD. And they passed the night in a crockery-jar,
And each of them said –
JUMBLIES. How wise we are!
CHILD. Though the sky be dark, and the voyage be long –
CHILD. Yet we never can think we were rash or wrong –
CHILD. While round in our Sieve we spin!’
CHILD. And all night long they sailed away –
CHILD. And when the sun went down –
CHILD. They whistled and warbled a moony song
To the echoing sound of a coppery gong –
CHILD. In the shade of the mountains brown.
JUMBLIES. O Timballo! How happy we are –
CHILD. When we live in a sieve and a crockery-jar –
CHILD. And all night long in the moonlight pale,
We sail away with a pea-green sail –
CHILD. In the shade of the mountains brown!
ALL. Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

As the JUMBLIES come ashore, CHILD becomes the JUMBLY girl and meets the DONG. She teaches him the Jumbly song.

CHILD. They sailed to the Western Sea –
CHILD. They did! –
CHILD. To a land all covered with trees.
CHILD. And they bought an Owl –
CHILD. And a useful Cart –
CHILD. And a pound of Rice –
CHILD. And a Cranberry Tart –
CHILD. And a hive of silvery Bees.
CHILD. And they bought a Pig –
CHILD. And some green Jack-daws –
CHILD. And a lovely Monkey with lollipop paws –
CHILD. And forty bottles of Ring-Bo-Ree –
CHILD. And no end of Stilton Cheese.
DONG & JUMBLY GIRL. Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

The DONG turns to practice the song, but when he turns to show THE JUMBLY GIRL, the JUMBLIES have gone. He stares out to sea, then leaves sadly.

CHILD. And in twenty years they all came back –
CHILD. In twenty years or more –
CHILD. And every one said –
CHILD. How tall they’ve grown!
CHILD. For they’ve been to the Lakes –
CHILD. And the Torrible Zone –
CHILD. And the hills of the Chankly Bore –
CHILD. And they drank their health –
CHILD. And gave them a feast –
CHILD. Of dumplings made of beautiful yeast –
CHILD. And everyone said –
CHILD. If we only live –
CHILD. We too will go to sea in a Sieve,—
CHILD. To the hills of the Chankly Bore!
ALL. Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve.

The CHILDREN exit. FRANK LUSHINGTON has entered.

17. Kindred Spirits.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] 1849. In England, Lear’s first Book of Nonsense and his Illustrated Excursions in Italy are both selling well. Lear is 37.
FORTESCUE. And in Malta, he meets a young gentleman, Franklin Lushington.

LEAR. There was an old man of Thermopylae,
Who never did anything properly;
But they said –
FRANK. If you choose,
To boil eggs in your shoes,
You shall never remain in Thermopylae.
LEAR. Frank!
FRANK. Hello, Edward.

LEAR staggers a little. GIORGIO moves towards LEAR, but FORTESCUE stops him, and the others withdraw.

FRANK. Are you all right, old chap?
LEAR. Yes, yes. Thank you. I was a little taken aback – with your appearing spongetaneously like that.
FRANK. I’m sorry if I – distressed you.
LEAR. Not at all, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting –
FRANK. Of course.
LEAR. Everything’s a little discombobulous.
FRANK. I should go.
LEAR. No. No. The past must be the past and buried.
FRANK. You don’t find comfort in memories?
LEAR. Only pain, dear boy. Pain that contracts and convulses me.
FRANK. I’ve been thinking about our first meeting. In Malta.

Lights change and sound of cicadas as we enter the memory.

FRANK. After dinner we took a turn on the terrace. Remember?
LEAR. The air was sweet after all that cigar smoke. Fresh.
FRANK. Valletta twinkled below us and we looked beyond the lights. Out to sea.
LEAR. Into the dark.
FRANK. And beyond the darkness lay Greece.
LEAR. The Peloponnese.
Clime of the unforgotten brave!
Whose land from plain to mountain-cave
Was Freedom’s home or Glory’s grave!
Shrine of the mighty! can it be,
That this is all remains of thee?
FRANK. Approach, thou craven crouching slave:
Say, is this not Thermopylae?
LEAR. You like Byron!
FRANK. I adore him. More than any other poet.
LEAR. Except Shakespeare, surely?
FRANK. Of course Shakespeare. Goes without saying. How far is it, Greece? Do you know?
LEAR. About 400 miles. Shall we go?
FRANK. Where?
LEAR. To Greece. Together. Let us journey to Arcadia!
FRANK. I’d like that.
LEAR. Follow in the footsteps of Byron!
FRANK. When would we go?
LEAR. Tomorrow!
FRANK. Good gracious! I couldn’t possibly –
LEAR. All right – the day after.
FRANK. Listen, Lear –
LEAR. Edward, please.
FRANK. Edward, I’m –
LEAR. Bassae, Delphi, Olympia –
FRANK. I’m not accustomed to doing things on the spur of the moment. I’m a lawyer.
LEAR. Then I must teach you to be more spongetaneous.

FRANK. [To Audience]. Of course I went. He was impossible to refuse. And it was idyllic. The start of a charming, delightful, intimate friendship.

19. The Owl and the Pussycat.

FRANK and LEAR sit together as the film of ‘The Owl and The Pussycat’ plays out.

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!”

Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?”
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-Tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

20. Fading Light.

LEAR and FRANK sit sketching.

LEAR. The light’s going. [He starts to pack up]
FRANK. Let’s give it another half hour. I’ve nearly finished.
LEAR. You have better eyes than me.
FRANK. Younger maybe, not better. Your sketches are beautiful.

FRANK continues to sketch. LEAR watches him.

LEAR. The days are too short.

FRANK is laughing.
LEAR. What?
FRANK. I’m still thinking of you sitting on that cow.

They both laugh.

FRANK. I can’t get the image out of my head.
LEAR. I thought it was a bank of earth.
FRANK. God knows what the poor beast thought you were!
LEAR. It certainly got a shock.
FRANK. Tipped into the dirt by a bovine quadruped.
LEAR. There was an Old Man who said, Now
I’ll sit down on the horns of that cow…

Their laughter subsides.

LEAR. You have been the most merry and kind travelling companion, Frank.
FRANK. The pleasure has been mine. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed myself so much.
LEAR. It’s been the happiest six weeks of my life.

Pause. TENNNYSON enters.

LEAR. I say, look at that sunset!
FRANK. By heaven Greece is a beautiful country!
“The charmed sunset lingered low adown
In the red West.”
LEAR. “A land where all things always seemed the same!”
You like Tennyson, too.
FRANK. Not as much as Byron. Besides, I can’t imagine Alfred swimming the Hellespont.
LEAR. Alfred? You know Tennyson?
FRANK. Didn’t I tell you? We’re family.

TENNYSON. They sat them down upon the yellow sand,
Between the sun and moon upon the shore.

FRANK. My brother Edmund is married to his sister.

TENNYSON. And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland,
Of child, and wife, and slave; but evermore
Most weary seem’d the sea, weary the oar,
Weary the wandering fields of barren foam.

FRANK. I’ll introduce you.
LEAR. That would be splendiferous. But I don’t want to think about England.

TENNYSON. Then some one said, “We will return no more”;
And all at once they sang, “Our island home
Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.”

FRANK. England seems like another planet.
LEAR. Exactly. And we are going to Albania.
FRANK. You are going Edward. I’m afraid I can’t.
LEAR. Why on earth not?
FRANK. I have to get back to Malta.
LEAR. But it’s what we planned.
FRANK. Duty calls.
LEAR. Duty? Piffle-paffle!
FRANK. Edward, I have a career –
LEAR. [Holding up his sketch book]. And this isn’t a career, I suppose –
FRANK. I don’t have your freedom.
LEAR. You think I’m free?
FRANK. From responsibility, yes.
LEAR. I see.
FRANK. Edward, let’s not quarrel.
LEAR. No. After all, I’m just a dirty landskipper. What should such critters as I do, crawling between earth and heaven?

LEAR is troubled. GIORGIO steps forward and helps him to a seat.

GIORGIO. Mr Edward, here.
LEAR. Thank you Giorgio, thank you.
GIORGIO. Please, sit. [To FRANK] Fyge! Go away! He no want you here.

FOSS curls up by LEAR.

FRANK. I don’t think I can go away.
FORTESCUE. I don’t think you should.
ANN. Please do stay, Mr Lushington.
FOSS. You never did understand what he felt for you.
LEAR. Thwarted, frustrated, impossible love.
FOSS. None of you understood.
FORTESCUE. That’s not fair.
FRANK. I don’t think any human being knew him better than I did.

FRANK sits by LEAR, displacing FOSS.

FRANK. Apart from all his various qualities of genius, I have never known a man who deserved more love for his goodness of heart.

A pause. FRANK and LEAR look at each other.

LEAR. Why need you not starve in the desert?
FRANK. I don’t know. Why don’t you starve in the desert?
LEAR. Because you can eat all the sand which is there.

They laugh. FRANK looks up at LEAR.

LEAR. Even at this late hour of life, the ridiculous flames of nature burn.

They both look out front. The others look at each other and leave slowly. FOSS remains.

LEAR. Better to suffer alone, than cause suffering in others.

21. The Daddy Long-Legs and the Fly.

DANCERS play out the story of ‘The Daddy Long-legs and the Fly.’

CHILD. Once Mr. Daddy Long-legs,
Dressed in brown and gray,
Walked about upon the sands
Upon a summer’s day;
And there among the pebbles,
When the wind was rather cold,
He met with Mr. Floppy Fly,
All dressed in blue and gold.

Said Mr. Daddy Long-legs to Mr. Floppy Fly,
‘Why do you never come to court?
I wish you’d tell me why.
All gold and shine, in dress so fine,
I really think you ought!

‘O Mr. Daddy Long-legs,’ said Mr. Floppy Fly,
‘It’s true I never go to court,
And I will tell you why.
If I had six long legs like yours,
At once I’d go to court!
But oh! I can’t, because my legs
Are so extremely short.

‘O Mr. Daddy Long-legs,’ said Mr. Floppy Fly,
‘I wish you’d sing one little song!
One mumbian melody!
You used to sing so awful well
In former days gone by,
But now you never sing at all;
I wish you’d tell me why:

Said Mr. Daddy Long-legs, ‘I can never sing again!
And if you wish, I’ll tell you why,
Although it gives me pain.
For years I cannot hum a bit,
Or sing the smallest song;
And this the dreadful reason is,
My legs are grown too long!

So Mr. Daddy Long-legs and Mr. Floppy Fly
Sat down in silence by the sea,
And gazed upon the sky.
They said, ‘This is a dreadful thing!
The world has all gone wrong,
Since one has legs too short by half,
The other much too long!

Then Mr. Daddy Long-legs and Mr. Floppy Fly
Rushed downward to the foamy sea
With one sponge-taneous cry;
And there they found a little boat,
Whose sails were pink and gray;
And off they sailed among the waves,
Far, and far away.

The dance ends. FRANK and LEAR look at each other. FRANK and the others leave him alone, except for FOSS.
LEAR looks up at the moon.
Blackout.

INTERVAL.

22. Losing Ann. LEAR and FOSS asleep. GIORGIO runs.

GIORGIO. Mr Edward! Mr Edward! His Majesty the Queens! She here! She here!

GIORGIO bows reverently. [After an expectant pause, ANN enters wearing QUEEN VICTORIA’s bonnet].

FOSS. If she’s Queen Victoria, I’m a dog.
LEAR. Ann!
ANN. [Taking off the bonnet] I told him it was a silly idea.
FOSS. He’s obsessed. I think he believes that if the Queen turns up for tea it will somehow all be different.
GIORGIO. She come. You will see.

FORTESCUE, STANLEY and FRANK hurry in.

FORTESCUE. Have we missed something?
FOSS. Only Giorgio making a fool of himself.
ANN. He tried to dress me up as Queen Victoria.
FORTESCUE. For God’s sake, Giorgio, she never came! [To ANN, who is staring at him] What?
ANN. I’m not accustomed to hearing the Lord’s name taken in vain. And by a peer of the realm.
FORTESCUE. Madam, I apologise.
ANN. Well. I think it’s probably time for me to go, anyway.
FOSS. Not quite.
ANN. I’d like to, if nobody minds. [Nobody does] Thank you.

ANN moves CS. The others gather round her and form her death bed.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] 1861. Lear is 48. In March his sister is taken seriously ill.
ANN. Edward.
LEAR. My darling sister.
ANN. What a blessing you are here. What a comfort you have been all your life. Do not be afraid, Edward. Dying is just a change, about to bring me to such great delight.

FOSS. After midnight on March 11th she became unconscious.
LEAR. I am greatly distressed at all this.
FOSS. He couldn’t face seeing her die. So he paced the street outside. The next day noon he looked up and saw them draw the curtains.

TENNYSON has entered. ANN rises from her death bed and leaves.

TENNYSON. Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.

FORTESCUE goes to LEAR.

FORTESCUE. Mr dear fellow, I’m so sorry.
LEAR. She died as a little child falls asleep. Without pain.
FORTESCUE. That’s some comfort.

TENNYSON. O, well for the fisherman’s boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O, well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!

LEAR. I’ve started going through her things. She has kept all my drawings since the age of five.
FORTESCUE. She was a good woman.
LEAR. The only mother I had. Without her, life is a mere shadow.

TENNYSON. And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!

LEAR. You look tired.
FORTESCUE. Politics is hard work.
LEAR. Mr Palmerston is a hard taskmaster?
FORTESCUE. Hard but fair. What will you do now?
LEAR. I am all at sea and do not know my way an hour ahead. I shall be so terribly alone.

TENNYSON. Break, break, break
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.

23. The Dong with the Luminous Nose.

Sounds of the sea breaking. CHILDREN for the ‘Dong with the Luminous Nose’ have entered.

ALL. The Dong with the Luminous Nose!
CHILD. When awful darkness and silence reign
Over the great Gromboolian plain –
CHILD. Through the long, long wintry nights; —
CHILD. When the angry breakers roar
As they beat on the rocky shore; —
CHILD. When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights
Of the Hills of the Chankly Bore: —
CHILD. Then, through the vast and gloomy dark,
There moves what seems a fiery spark –
CHILD. A lonely spark with silvery rays –
CHILD. Piercing the coal-black night, —
A Meteor strange and bright: —
CHILD. Hither and thither the vision strays,
A single lurid light.
CHILD. Slowly it wanders, —
CHILD. pauses, —
CHILD. creeps, —
CHILD. Anon it sparkles, —
CHILD. flashes and leaps; –
CHILD. And ever as onward it gleaming goes
A light on the Bong-tree stems it throws.
CHILD. And those who watch at that midnight hour –
CHILD. From Hall or Terrace, or lofty Tower –
CHILD. Cry, as the wild light passes along, —
CHILD. The Dong! —
CHILD. The Dong!
CHILD. The wandering Dong through the forest goes!
CHILD. The Dong!
CHILD. The Dong!
ALL. The Dong with a luminous Nose!
CHILD. Long years ago
The Dong was happy and gay –
CHILD. Till he fell in love with a Jumbly Girl
Who came to those shores one day.
CHILD. For the Jumblies came in a sieve, they did, —
CHILD. Landing at eve near the Zemmery Fidd
Where the Oblong Oysters grow –
CHILD. And the rocks are smooth and gray.
CHILD. And all the woods and the valleys rang
With the Chorus they daily and nightly sang, —
JUMBLIES. Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and the hands are blue
And they went to sea in a sieve.
CHILD. Happily, happily passed those days!
While the cheerful Jumblies stayed.
CHILD. They danced in circlets all night long,
To the plaintive pipe of the lively Dong –
CHILD. In moonlight, shine, or shade.
CHILD. For day and night he was always there
By the side of the Jumbly Girl so fair,
With her sky-blue hands, and her sea-green hair.
CHILD. Till the morning came of that hateful day
When the Jumblies sailed in their sieve away –

CHILD. And the Dong was left on the cruel shore
Gazing — gazing for evermore, —
CHILD. Ever keeping his weary eyes on
That pea-green sail on the far horizon, —
CHILD. Singing the Jumbly Chorus still
As he sat all day on the grassy hill, —
DONG. Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and the hands are blue
And they went to sea in a sieve.
CHILD. But when the sun was low in the West,
The Dong arose and said; –
DONG. What little sense I once possessed
Has quite gone out of my head! —
CHILD. And since that day he wanders still
By lake and forest, marsh and hills.
DONG. Somewhere, in valley or plain
Might I find my Jumbly Girl again!
For ever I’ll seek by lake and shore
Till I find my Jumbly Girl once more!
CHILD. Playing a pipe with silvery squeaks,
Since then his Jumbly Girl he seeks –
CHILD. And because by night he could not see,
He gathered the bark of the Twangum Tree
On the flowery plain that grows.
CHILD. And he wove him a wondrous Nose, —
CHILD. A Nose as strange as a Nose could be!
CHILD. Of vast proportions and painted red,
And tied with cords to the back of his head.
CHILD. In a hollow rounded space it ended
With a luminous Lamp within suspended –
CHILD. All fenced about
With a bandage stout
To prevent the wind from blowing it out; —
CHILD. And with holes all round to send the light,
In gleaming rays on the dismal night.
CHILD. And now each night, and all night long,
Over those plains still roams the Dong; –
CHILD. And above the wail of the Chimp and Snipe
You may hear the squeak of his plaintive pipe –
CHILD. While ever he seeks, but seeks in vain
To meet with his Jumbly Girl again; –
CHILD. Lonely and wild — all night he goes, —
The Dong with a luminous Nose!
CHILD. And all who watch at the midnight hour –
CHILD. From Hall or Terrace, or lofty Tower –
CHILD. Cry, as they trace the Meteor bright –
CHILD. Moving along through the dreary night, —
CHILD. This is the hour when forth he goes –
CHILD. The Dong with a luminous Nose!

CHILD. Yonder — over the plain he goes;
ALL. The Dong with a luminous Nose!

24. Knowing the Tennysons.

STANLEY. [To AUDIENCE] In the decade before his sister’s death, Lear had become an established landscape artist and travel writer.
FORTESCUE. Two more books of nonsense sold well. And his social circle expanded to include leading artists and writers of the age.
TENNYSON. In particular, me. Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
EMILY T. And me, Alfred, dear.
TENNYSON. Yes, and my darling wife Emily.
EMILY T. Of course, Alfred wasn’t a Lord then.
TENNYSON. But I was famous. The greatest poet of the Victorian era. I met Lear at the end of 1850. A momentous year for me. I had just published my greatest poem, ‘In Memoriam’. Then I was made poet laureate when that old squawker Wordsworth finally dropped off his perch.
EMILY T. I think you’re forgetting something, Alfred dear.
TENNYSON. Am I? Oh yes! And I married my darling wife Emily.
EMILY T. We took an immediate liking to Mr Lear.
TENNYSON. Did we?
EMILY T. Yes we did.
LEAR. Sir, I am in the constant habit of reading and remembering your poems.
TENNYSON. Well, they are very memorable.
LEAR. The amount of pleasure I derive from them is quite beyond reckoning.
TENNYSON. Yes, yes we did like him, you’re right. He had excellent taste.
EMILY T. And you had so much in common.
TENNYSON. I wouldn’t say that.
EMILY T. You both came from large and difficult families. You both suffered.
TENNYSON. I hardly think you can compare my – with that – I’m going for a walk. Where’s my hat?!
EMILY T. It’s on your head, dear.

TENNYSON leaves in a huff.

EMILY T. Oh dear. Marriage to a creative genius is not always easy.

25. Mr & Mrs Discobbolos Part 2.

CHILDREN have entered and built the DISCOBBOLOS’s wall.

CHILD. Mr and Mrs Discobbolos
Lived on the top of the wall
CHILD. For twenty years, a month and a day,
CHILD. Till their hair had grown all pearly gray,
CHILD. And their teeth began to fall.
CHILD. They never were ill, or at all dejected,
CHILD. By all admired, and by some respected,
CHILD. Till Mrs Discobbolos said –
MRS D. Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
It has just come into my head,
We have no more room at all –
Darling Mr Discobbolos!
Look at our six fine boys!
And our six sweet girls so fair!
Upon this wall they have all been born,
And not one of the twelve has happened to fall
Through my maternal care!
Surely they should not pass their lives
Without any chance of husbands or wives!’
CHILD. And Mrs Discobbolos said –
MRS D. Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
Did it never come into your head
That our lives must be lived elsewhere,
Dearest Mr Discobbolos?
They have never been at a ball,
Nor have even seen a bazaar!
Nor have heard folks say in a tone all hearty,
‘What loves of girls (at a garden party)
Those Misses Discobbolos are!’
Morning and night it drives me wild
To think of the fate of each darling child!
CHILD. But Mr Discobbolos said,
MR D. Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
What has come to your fiddledum head!
What a runcible goose you are!
Octopod Mrs Discobbolos!
CHILD. Suddenly Mr Discobbolos
Slid from the top of the wall;
CHILD. And beneath it he dug a dreadful trench,
And filled it with dynamite, gunpowder gench,
CHILD. And aloud he began to call –
MR D. Let the wild bee sing,
And the blue bird hum!
For the end of your lives has certainly come!
TWO CHILDREN. And Mrs Discobbolos said –
MRS D. Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
We shall presently all be dead,
On this ancient runcible wall,
Terrible Mr Discobbolos!
TWO CHILDREN. Pensively, Mr Discobbolos
Sat with his back to the wall;

TWO CHILDREN. He lighted a match, and fired the train,
TWO CHILDREN. And the mortified mountain echoed again
To the sound of an awful fall!
TWO CHILDREN. And all the Discobbolos family flew
In thousands of bits to the sky so blue,
TWO CHILDREN. And no one was left to have said,
ALL. Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
Has it come into anyone’s head
That the end has happened to all
Of the whole of the Clan Discobbolos?

26. Artistic Doubts.

As the Discobbolos family exit, TENNYSON returns.

EMILY T. [To AUDIENCE] Mr Lear stayed with us often at our home on the Isle of Wight. He was like one of the family.
TENNYSON. Was he?
EMILY T. Yes he was. He charmed us with his merriment and music. You liked his musical settings of your poems.
TENNYSON. Did I?
EMILY T. Yes you did. And you were flattered by his grand plan to illustrate lines of your verses with his landscapes.
I became a close confidant, and believe there were no secrets between us.
LEAR. I should think, computing moderately, that 15 angels, several hundred of ordinary women, many philosophers, a heap of truly wise and kind mothers, 3 or 4 minor prophets and a lot of doctors and schoolmistresses, might all be boiled down, and yet their combined essence fall short of what Emily Tennyson is.
EMILY T. When he was on his travels, painting beautiful scenes and writing about his adventures and mishaps we wrote to each other frequently.

GIORGIO starts to set up LEAR’s easel. LEAR begins to paint. LADY WALDEGRAVE enters.

STANLEY. [To AUDIENCE] In spite of the success of his travel books, and for all the popularity of his nonsense poems, Lear still wanted to be taken seriously as an artist.
FRANK. And in spite of his many acquaintances, he still felt like an outsider.
FORTESCUE. He continued to keep his demon secret from almost everyone, but the seizures kept coming, and his eyesight grew weaker.
EMILY T. His numerous female friends –
LADY W. Like me, Lady Frances Waldegrave, a great admirer and patron of his work – wondered why he hadn’t married.
EMILY T. Perhaps he hasn’t found someone he truly loves.
LADY W. Love? That’s hardly relevant, my dear. I have buried three husbands. Didn’t love any of them. It hasn’t done me any harm.
FOSS. Wasn’t so good for them, though, was it?

HENRY and FREDERICK have entered. They stand either side of LEAR who tries to ignore them.

FOSS. Anyway, the marriage fantasy comes later. For now, let’s concentrate on Lear’s self-doubts as an artist.

HENRY. I say, you know that fellow we spoke to at dinner?
FREDERICK. The one with the big nose?
HENRY. Yes him. Turns out he’s nothing but a damned dirty little landscape painter.
FREDERICK. A damned dirty little dauber.
HENRY. A weedy little wishy-washy watercolourist.
FREDERICK. Can’t he do oils?
HENRY. Hasn’t the technique.
FREDERICK. Portraits?
HENRY. Never mastered the basics.
FREDERICK. He’ll be a journeyman all his life.

LEAR rises and tears his drawing.

27. Joining the Brotherhood.

STANLEY. [To AUDIENCE] But help was at hand.
FOSS. In 1852 an important figure stepped into Lear’s life.

HOLMAN HUNT steps forward.

HUNT. William Holman Hunt. Artist, visionary, and founder of the PRB.
FORTESCUE. The PRB?
HUNT. The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. Gentlemen!

HUNT invites the others to join him. They hesitate.

HUNT. What?
MILLAIS. When you say ‘founder’, that’s not entirely accurate. I, John Everett Millais, was the founder of the PRB.
ROSSETTI. What rot! I, Gabriel Dante Rossetti, founded the PRB.

They have a heated argument, all shouting at once. It becomes physical.

FORTESCUE. GENTLEMEN PLEASE!!!

They freeze, mid-fight.

HUNT. Let us say we all founded the PRB.
ROSSETTI. Together.
HUNT. Together.
MILLAIS. At the same time.
HUNT. At the same time.
ROSSETTI. Well, we are a brotherhood.
HUNT. Precisely. Remember our motto!
ALL. All for Art – and Art for All!
FOSS. That wasn’t their motto.

The PRB are outraged.

FOSS. You didn’t have a motto.
ALL. HOW DARE YOU!
ROSSETTI. We shall not be insulted by a cat!
MILLAIS. Un chat avec une demi-queue!
HUNT. A feline phantasm!
MILLAIS. We have principles!
ROSSETTI. The expression of genuine ideas!

HUNT. Away with sentimentality!
ROSSETTI. To hell with convention!
MILLAIS. Trust what is natural and heartfelt!
ROSSETTI. Study Nature attentively!
HUNT. Produce good pictures!
ALL. No slishy-slosh!
HUNT. Look!

Projection of Pre-Raphaelite paintings. The others turn to look. Ooohs, aahs and applause. LEAR is captivated.

MILLAIS. That’s one of mine – Ophelia.
HUNT. The model posed in a bath full of water.
MILLAIS. Attention to detail. She was in and out of that bath for four months.
HUNT. She got hypothermia.
MILLAIS. Art demands sacrifices. She got better.
ROSSETTI. Ah – now that is my work. In it I re-imagine the Annunciation.
HUNT. Upset the traditionalists. The Virgin Mary not kneeling and in bed! The angel Gabriel without wings!
ROSSETTI. Truth. Originality. Exclude the conventional!
HUNT. Put the cat among the pigeons. And this is mine. The Hireling Shepherd.

MILLAIS and ROSSETTI leave. LEAR looks at the painting as if in a gallery.

28. A New Daddy.

LEAR. It’s beautiful.
HUNT. [To AUDIENCE] When I met Lear for the first time this piece had caused quite a stir in the Art World. People often misunderstand. They see what they want to see, not what’s really there.

The scene switches abruptly to LEAR’s studio.

HUNT. You’re Lear.
LEAR. Yes.
HUNT. And these are yours.
LEAR. I’m afraid so, yes.

HUNT begins to look at LEAR’s sketches.

LEAR. I was hoping you might be able to help. I can’t draw.
HUNT. Nonsense. These are good.
LEAR. And I can’t paint.
HUNT. Your method is certainly…unusual. You always sketch in outline?
LEAR. Initially, yes.
HUNT. What about light? Shade?
LEAR. Well, I –
HUNT. What’s all this writing? [Reading] Korn. Ski?
LEAR. They’re reminders.
HUNT. Stones. Olive then gray.
LEAR. Of colours.
HUNT. Rocks.
LEAR. And things.
HUNT. R-o-x?
LEAR. I like to have fun. With words. But can I make good pictures from these sketches? When I set myself to try, I often break down in despair.
HUNT. I wouldn’t dream of painting from such skeletons. You must paint outside. In oils.
LEAR. I will do so at once.
HUNT. It’s the only way. And you must get new pigments. Naples yellow, Venetian red, Cobalt blue. Colour, man! Light and colour!
LEAR. But I will want you to direct me.
HUNT. Very well. I’m going to Sussex for the summer. You can come too, and I will be your guide.
LEAR. Thank you, Daddy.

LEAR turns to his canvas, with HUNT guiding him.

FOSS. Lear was fifteen years older than Hunt, yet he always called him Daddy. That summer they became firm friends, Lear introducing his young companion to music and literature, and teaching him Italian.

LEAR. I really cannot begin to express how grateful I am to you for the progress I have made. I am now beginning to have a perfect faith in the means employed. I am a PRB for ever.
HUNT. Edward Lear is beyond doubt the most considerately kind and good-natured man alive.
LEAR. Living with Daddy Hunt is more certain a chance of happiness than any other life I know of.

HUNT. Well. Let’s see it!
LEAR. Here. [Turns the canvas].

29. Moving On.

Image of Thermopylae projected. The others admire it. KATE MORGAN enters.

FRANK. Thermopylae.
LEAR. Yes.
FRANK. It’s beautiful, Edward. Just as I remember it.
LEAR. We should go back.
FRANK. Edward, I have some news. I am engaged to be married.
LEAR. I see. Who –
FRANK. Kate Morgan. You met her in Eastbourne, remember?
LEAR. Ah yes.
FRANK. She’s been a great friend to the family.
LEAR. Good.
KATE. Franklin!
LEAR. I’m delighted for you –
KATE. FRANKLIN!
FRANK. Coming dear!
LEAR. Both.

LEAR and FRANK separate and move DSL and R. FRANK joins KATE MORGAN. They look at each other as CHILDREN enter for the Pelican Chorus.

30. The Pelican Chorus.

ALL. The Pelican Chorus!
CHILD. King and Queen of the Pelicans –
TWO CHILDREN. we;
No other Birds so grand we see!
CHILD. None but we have feet like fins!
With lovely leathery throats and chins!
CHILD. And when the sun sinks slowly down
And the great rock walls grow dark and brown –
CHILD. Wing to wing we dance around,
Stamping our feet with a flumpy sound –
CHILD. Opening our mouths as Pelicans ought,
And this is the song we nightly snort –

ALL/SINGERS. Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
We think no Birds so happy as we!
Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
We think so then, and we thought so still!

CHILD. Last year came out our daughter –
CHILD. Dell!
CHILD. And all the Birds received her well.
CHILD. To do her honour, a feast we made
For every bird that can swim or wade.
TWO CHILDREN. Herons and Gulls –
TWO CHILDREN. and Cormorants black –
CHILD. Cranes –
CHILD. and Flamingos with scarlet back –
TWO CHILDREN. Plovers and Storks –
TWO CHILDREN. and Geese in clouds –
CHILD. Swans –
THREE CHILDREN. and Dilberry Ducks in crowds.
CHILD. Thousands of Birds in wondrous flight!
CHILD. They ate and drank and danced all night.
CHILD. Yes, they came; and among the rest,
CHILD. The King of the Cranes all grandly dressed.
CHILD. As soon as he saw our Daughter Dell,
CHILD. In violent love that Crane King fell –
CHILD. On seeing her waddling form so fair,
With a wreath of shrimps in her short white hair.
CHILD. And before the end of the next long day,
Our Dell had given her heart away;
CHILD. For the King of the Cranes had won that heart,
With a Crocodile’s egg and a large fish-tart.
CHILD. She vowed to marry the King of the Cranes,
Leaving the Nile for stranger plains –
CHILD. And away they flew in a gathering crowd
Of endless birds in a lengthening cloud.
CHILD. And far away in the twilight sky,
We heard them singing a lessening cry –
CHILD. Farther and farther till out of sight,
And we stood alone in the silent night!
CHILD. Often since, in the nights of June,
We sit on the sand and watch the moon;–
CHILD. She has gone to the great Gromboolian plain,
And we probably never shall meet again!

Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee!
We think no Birds so happy as we!
Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill!
We think so then, and we thought so still.

The CHILDREN have left. LEAR replaces the PELICAN KING and QUEEN, looking into the distance. Sea sounds.

31. The Marriage Fantasy.

FORTESCUE. [To AUDIENCE] Within in a year of Frank’s marriage, Lady Frances Waldegrave granted me the honour of becoming her husband.
LADY W. Husband number four. But this time I did marry for love.
FORTESCUE. I’m the luckiest dog alive, Lear!
LEAR. I’m delighted for you both.

HUNT is joined by his wife, FANNY WAUGH.

HUNT. And by the end of 1862 I was also married.
LEAR. Daddy Hunt a husband!
HUNT. And a blissfully happy one, Edward.

LEAR is now surrounded by the four married couples.

LEAR. I take it there is no such happiness in this life as a really happy marriage.
EMILY T. So true, Mr Lear. Alfred and I often tell each other that.
TENNYSON. Do we?
EMILY T. We do. And I think you would be happier if you married.
LADY W. Mr Lear, have you considered matrimony?
LEAR. I do not say I am decided to take that step –
FRANK. Someone to look after you, Edward – you’re not getting any younger.
LEAR. But I say that I am nearer to doing so than ever I was before.
KATE. How exciting!
LADY W. And who is the lady in question?
FANNY. Do tell us, Mr Lear!
LEAR. Her name is Augusta – Gussie for short. Augusta Bethell.
EMILY T. Is she kind, Edward?
FORTESCUE. Is she rich?
LEAR. She is a dear good true girl – almost faultless.
FORTESCUE. Only marry the girl if she brings you a solid £300 year.

GUSSIE has entered.

LADY W. Well I think you should ask her.
FANNY. Yes, pop the question.
KATE. Faint heart never won fair lady.
HUNT. Let’s leave them to it.

The couples withdraw. FRANK lingers.

FANNY. Franklin!
FRANK. [To LEAR] Good luck, Edward. Coming dear!

FRANK goes.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] The truth is, Gussie led a miserable and desolate life, bullied by her siblings and scorned by her overbearing father, a corrupt politician who was brazenly unfaithful to Gussie’s mother. Perhaps Lear imagined rescuing her like some knight in shining armour.
GIORGIO. Lika the man in the story – Don Quicksand.
FOSS. Quixote.
GIORGIO. Is what I said.

32. Unproposing.

LEAR and GUSSIE have come to the end of a walk. LEAR listens to birds singing.

LEAR. Listen.
GUSSIE. Swallows.
LEAR. Summer is ending.
GUSSIE. They’re getting ready to leave. Where will you go for the winter, Mr Lear?
LEAR. I know not. Corfu, probably. It depends on – well… It depends.
GUSSIE. I enjoyed our walk.

Silence. LEAR is about to speak.

GUSSIE. I hope you’ve had a pleasant –
LEAR. Oh yes.
GUSSIE. I hope we haven’t –
LEAR. Not at all –
GUSSIE. I hope father didn’t…
LEAR. Didn’t?
GUSSIE. He can be –
LEAR. It’s been as pleasant a day as I have passed in many years.
GUSSIE. I’m so glad.

GUSSIE waits for LEAR to speak.

GUSSIE. Are you cold?
LEAR. No.
GUSSIE. It’s getting chilly. Shall we go in?
LEAR. Gussie?
GUSSIE. Yes, Edward?

LEAR is about to speak when he is interrupted by a loud ship’s whistle. The CHILDREN come on for the Pobble.

33. The Pobble who has No Toes.

ALL. The Pobble who has no toes!
CHILD. The Pobble who has no toes,
Had once as many as we.
CHILD. When they said —
ALL. Some day you may lose them all!
CHILD. He replied —
POBBLE. Phum, phiddle de dee! —

CHILD. And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink
Lavender-water, tinged with pink,
For she said —
AUNT J. The world in general knows
There’s nothing so good for a Pobble’s toes!
CHILD. The Pobble who has no toes
Swam across the Bristol Channel –
CHILD. But before he went he swaddled his nose
In a piece of scarlet flannel –
CHILD. For his Aunt Jobiska said —
AUNT J. No harm
Can come to his toes if his nose is warm;
And it’s perfectly known that a Pobble’s toes
Are safe — provided he minds his nose!
CHILD. The Pobble swam fast and well,
And when boats or ships came near him,
CHILD. He tinkelty-binkelty-winkl’d a bell,
So that all the world could hear him.
CHILD. And all the Sailors and Admirals cried
When they saw him land on the farther side —
ADMIRALS. He has gone to fish for his Aunt Jobiska’s
Runcible cat with crimson whiskers!
CHILD. The Pobble went gaily on,
To a rock on the edge of the water –
CHILD. And there,—a-eating of crumbs and cream,
Sat King Jampoodle’s daughter.
CHILD. Her cap was a root of Beetroot red,
With a hole cut out to insert her head;
CHILD. Her gloves were yellow –
CHILD. Her shoes were pink –
CHILD. Her frock was green –
CHILD. And her name was –
ALL. BINK!
POBBLE. Oh Princess Bink,
A-eating of crumbs and cream!
Your beautiful face has filled my heart
With the most profound esteem!
And my Aunt Jobiska says –
AUNT J. Man’s life
Ain’t worth a penny without a wife –
POBBLE. Whereby it will give me the greatest pleasure
If you’ll marry me now, or when you’ve leisure!
PRINCESS B. O! Yes!
I will certainly cross the Channel
And marry you then if you’ll give me now
That lovely scarlet flannel!
And besides that flannel about your nose
I trust you will give me all your toes,
To place in my Pa’s Museum collection,
As proof of your deep genteel affection.
CHILD. The Pobble unwrapped his nose,
And gave her the flannel so red –
CHILD. Which, throwing her Beetroot cap away,—
She wreathed around her head.
CHILD. And one by one he unscrewed his toes –
CHILD. Which were made of the beautiful wood that grows
In his Aunt Jobiska’s roorial park –
CHILD. When the days are short and the nights are dark.
PRINCESS B. O Pobble! my Pobble!
I’m yours for ever and ever!
I never will leave you my Pobble! my Pobble!
Never, and never, and never!
POBBLE. My Binky! O bless your heart!
But say — would you like at once to start
Without taking leave of your dumpetty Father?
Jampoodle the King?
PRINCESS B. Rather!
CHILD. They crossed the Channel at once
And when boats and ships came near them –
CHILD. They winkelty-binkelty-tinkled their bell
So that all the world could hear them.
CHILD. And all the Sailors and Admirals cried
When they saw them swim to the farther side —
ADMIRALS. There are no more fish for his Aunt Jobiska’s
Runcible Cat with crimson whiskers!
CHILD. They danced about all day,
All over the hills and dales –
CHILD. They danced in every village and town
In the North and the South of Wales.
CHILD. And their Aunt Jobiska made them a dish
Of Mice and Buttercups fried with fish
For she said —
CHILD. The World in general knows,
Pobbles are happier without their toes!

The CHILDREN leave. LEAR alone USL.

34. The Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] In the end Lear didn’t propose. Perhaps he was afraid his epilepsy was hereditary; perhaps he was afraid he couldn’t make her happy; perhaps he was just afraid.

GIORGIO enters with mail. A BUTLER/MC enters and begins to announce married couples’ names – who appear as called. CHILDREN enter as wedding guests.

LEAR. Another wedding invitation!
BUTLER. Mr and Mrs Holman Hunt!
LEAR. Would one have been as happy as one fancies if one Had been married and had had children?
BUTLER. Mr and Mrs Chichester Fortescue!
LEAR. Marriage: so great a risk of making two people more unhappy than before.
BUTLER. Mr and Mrs Franklin Lushington!
LEAR. Every marriage of people I care about rather seems to leave one on the bleak shore alone.

Wedding sounds segue into waves/sea. The couples are waved off. The CHILDREN then turn to the audience.

ALL. The Courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
CHILD. On the Coast of Coromandel
Where the early pumpkins blow,
CHILD In the middle of the woods
Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

YBB enters, sadly.

CHILD Two old chairs, and half a candle,
CHILD. One old jug without a handle—
CHILD. These were all his worldly goods,
In the middle of the woods,
CHILD. These were all his worldly goods,
Of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
ALL. Of the Yonghy-Bonghy Bo.

Lady Jingly Jones enters.

CHILD. Once, among the Bong-trees walking –
CHILD Where the early pumpkins blow –
CHILD. To a little heap of stones
Came the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
CHILD. There he heard a Lady talking,
To some milk-white Hens of Dorking —
YBB. ‘Tis the Lady Jingly Jones!
On that little heap of stones
Sits the Lady Jingly Jones!
ALL. Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
YBB. Lady Jingly! Lady Jingly!
Sitting where the pumpkins blow,
Will you come and be my wife?
I am tired of living singly –
On this coast so wild and shingly –
I’m a-weary of my life;
If you’ll come and be my wife,
Quite serene would be my life!
ALL. Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
YBB. On this Coast of Coromandel
Shrimps and watercresses grow,
Prawns are plentiful and cheap.
You shall have my chairs and candle,
And my jug without a handle!
Gaze upon the rolling deep
(Fish is plentiful and cheap);
As the sea, my love is deep!
ALL. Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
CHILD. Lady Jingly answered sadly,
And her tears began to flow —
LJJ. Your proposal comes too late,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
I would be your wife most gladly!
CHILD. Here she twirled her fingers madly –
LJJ. But in England I’ve a mate!
Yes! you’ve asked me far too late,
For in England I’ve a mate,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
Mr. Jones (his name is Handel –
Handel Jones, Esquire, & Co.)
Dorking fowls delights to send
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!

Keep, oh, keep your chairs and candle,
And your jug without a handle –
I can merely be your friend!
Should my Jones more Dorkings send,
I will give you three, my friend!
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
Though you’ve such a tiny body,
And your head so large doth grow –
Though your hat may blow away
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
Though you’re such a Hoddy Doddy,
Yet I wish that I could modi-
fy the words I needs must say!
Will you please to go away
That is all I have to say,
Mr. Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo!
CHILD. Down the slippery slopes of Myrtle,
Where the early pumpkins blow –
CHILD. To the calm and silent sea
Fled the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
CHILD There, beyond the Bay of Gurtle,
Lay a large and lively Turtle.
YBB. You’re the Cove for me;
On your back beyond the sea,
Turtle, you shall carry me!
ALL. Said the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
CHILD. Through the silent-roaring ocean
Did the Turtle swiftly go –
CHILD. Holding fast upon his shell
Rode the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
CHILD. With a sad primeval motion
Towards the sunset isles of Boshen
Still the Turtle bore him well.
CHILD. Holding fast upon his shell –
YBB. Lady Jingly Jones, farewell!
ALL. Sang the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
CHILD. From the Coast of Coromandel
Did that Lady never go.
CHILD. On that heap of stones she mourns
For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.
CHILD. On that Coast of Coromandel –
CHILD. In his jug without a handle –
CHILD. Still she weeps, and daily moans –
CHILD. On that little heap of stones
To her Dorking Hens she moans,
CHILD. For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo,
ALL. For the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo.

LJJ leaves the jug DSC. GUSSIE enters and picks it up. LEAR watches her. The others enter and watch him.

35. Growing Old.

FOSS. [To AUDIENCE] In 1873 Lear received news that Gussie Bethell had married.
HUNT. Yes – a decrepit old man! A young life wasted.
LADY W. Not necessarily. He was rich. She also wrote books for children.
LEAR. Poor Gussie! If her life is sad, – united to mine would it have been less so?
FORTESCUE. By then, Lear had settled permanently in San Remo, on the Italian Riviera.
LADY W. He built a house.
EMILY T. And named it after me.
TENNYSON. Did he?
EMILY T. Yes he did – the Villa Emily. He lived in it till someone built a hotel in front of it blocking his sea view and the light from his studio.
STANLEY. His friends lent him the money to build a new one.
TENNYSON. And he named that one after me – the Villa Tennyson.
HUNT. He continued to draw and paint and write nonsense, while Giorgio cooked and looked after him.
FOSS. And he got a cat.
LEAR. I have come to the conclusion that nobody ought to marry at all. Human nature is pretty much the same all along. On the whole perhaps Pussycat nature is best.
FOSS. Of course it is. And there we three remained.
GIORGIO. Queens Victoria, she never come.
FOSS. No. She never came. But others did. Although Lear was still a misfit –
LEAR. It was decreed I was not to be human –
FOSS. People still liked him.

36. The Quangle-Wangle’s Hat

CHILDREN enter singing Calico Pie. They gather in a semi-circle around LEAR.

ALL. The Quangle Wangle’s Hat!
CHILD. On the top of the Crumpetty Tree
The Quangle Wangle sat –
CHILD. But his face you could not see –
CHILD. On account of his Beaver Hat.
TWO CHILDREN. For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide,
With ribbons and bibbons on every side
And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace –
CHILD. So that nobody ever could see the face –
ALL. Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.
CHILD. The Quangle Wangle said –
CHILD. To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, –
LEAR. Jam; and jelly; and bread;
Are the best of food for me!
But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree
The plainer than ever it seems to me
That very few people come this way
And that life on the whole is far from gay!
ALL. Said the Quangle Wangle Quee.
CHILD. But there came to the Crumpetty Tree,
Mr. and Mrs. Canary;
And they said, –
CHILD. Did ever you see
Any spot so charmingly airy?
CHILD. May we build a nest on your lovely Hat?
CHILD. Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
CHILD. O please let us come and build a nest
CHILD. Of whatever material suits you best,
CHILD. Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!
CHILD. And besides, to the Crumpetty Tree
Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl;
The Snail, and the Bumble-Bee,
The Frog, and the Fimble Fowl;
(The Fimble Fowl, with a corkscrew leg;)
And all of them said, –
ALL. We humbly beg,
We may build out homes on your lovely Hat, –
Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!
And the Golden Grouse came there,
And the Pobble who has no toes, –
And the small Olympian bear, –
And the Dong with a luminous nose.
And the Blue Baboon, who played the Flute, –
And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute, –
And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat, –
CHILD. All came and built on the lovely Hat
ALL. Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.
CHILD. And the Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, –
LEAR. When all these creatures move
What a wonderful noise there’ll be!
CHILD. And at night by the light of the Mulberry moon
They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon,
On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree –
CHILD. And all were as happy as happy could be –
ALL. With the Quangle Wangle Quee.

CHILDREN leave. Others enter and set up the train carriage scene.

37. Knowing Edward Lear.

FORTESCUE. [To AUDIENCE] Lear returned occasionally to England, where his nonsense books were best sellers.
HUNT. But his art was already losing its appeal.
LADY W. And although the books were famous, he gained little personal recognition.
EMILY T. In fact rumours abounded that Edward Lear didn’t really exist.
TENNYSON. As he was to discover himself directly.
FOSS. 1870. A train carriage somewhere in Sussex. Lear is 58.

GIORGIO hands LEAR his hat and bag, and he joins the people sitting in the carriage.

1st LADY [Reading to her CHILDREN] So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
CHILDREN. [Joining in] They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
1st LADY. [To the other passengers] I do hope we are not disturbing you.
2nd LADY. Oh, not at all. My children also love those poems.
GENTLEMAN. Indeed, thousands of families are grateful to the author.
2nd LADY. Yes, Mr Lear.
GENTLEMAN. Ah no. The author is really Edward Stanley, the Earl of Derby
1st LADY. Really?
GENTLEMAN. Edward Lear is merely his nom de plume. He chose not to publish it openly, but dedicated it as you see to his relations.
1st LADY. How fascinating.
GENTLEMAN. But he left us a clue – if you transpose the letters LEAR, you will simply read Edward EARL.
2nd LADY. How clever!
LEAR. Excuse me, but that is a mistake – I have reason to know that Edward Lear the painter and author wrote and illustrated the whole book.
GENTLEMAN. And I have good reason to know, Sir, that you are wholly mistaken. There is no such person as Edward Lear.
LEAR. But there is – and I am the man – and I wrote the book.

The PASSENGERS all laugh.

GENTLEMAN. Don’t be absurd!
2nd LADY. How ridiculous!
CHILD. It’s wrong to tell fibs!
LEAR. You are quite right. So, allow me to prove it. My name is in my hat.

LEAR removes his hat and shows the PASSENGERS. He takes a card from his pocket and gives it to the astonished GENTLEMAN.

LEAR. My card.
GENTLEMAN. Edward Lear.
LEAR. Good day. I wish you a pleasant journey.

38. Rising.

LEAR moves DSC and FOSS and GIORGIO join him.
CHILDREN sing Calico Pie.

LEAR. I see what’s happening now.
FOSS. That’s good.
LEAR. You know, I enjoyed hardly any one thing on earth while it was present – always looking back, or frettingly peering into the dim beyond. Giorgio?
GIORGIO. Mr Edward.
LEAR. Dear poor Giorgio. I wasn’t always good to you.
GIORGIO. No, Mr Edward. You were my best friend.
LEAR. I wish I could have deserved such a friend.

The other friends have gathered around them.

LEAR. I wish I could have deserved all of you. What is that that verse of yours, Alfred? I held it truth –
TENNYSON. I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things.

ALL. How Pleasant to Know Mr Lear!
How pleasant to know Mr. Lear,
Who has written such volumes of stuff.
Some think him ill-tempered and queer,
But a few find him pleasant enough.

His mind is concrete and fastidious,
His nose is remarkably big;
His visage is more or less hideous,
His beard it resembles a wig.

He has ears, and two eyes, and ten fingers,
(Leastways if you reckon two thumbs);
He used to be one of the singers,
But now he is one of the dumbs.

He sits in a beautiful parlour,
With hundreds of books on the wall;
He drinks a great deal of marsala,
But never gets tipsy at all.

He has many friends, laymen and clerical,
Old Foss is the name of his cat;
His body is perfectly spherical,
He weareth a runcible hat.

He weeps by the side of the ocean,
He weeps on the top of the hill;
He purchases pancakes and lotion,
And chocolate shrimps from the mill.

He reads, but he does not speak, Spanish,
He cannot abide ginger beer;
Ere the days of his pilgrimage vanish,
How pleasant to know Mr Lear.

39. A Dying Fall.

LEAR moves forward then stumbles. He falls DSC and children gather round him in an echo of the opening scene.

LEAR. A tumbled down, and hurt his Arm, against a bit of wood. B said –
CHILD. My Boy, oh do not cry; it cannot do you good! C said –
CHILD. A Cup of Coffee hot can’t do you any harm. D said –
CHILD. A Doctor should be fetched, and he would cure the arm. E said –
CHILD. An Egg beat up with milk would quickly make him well. F said –
CHILD. A Fish, if broiled, might cure, if only by the smell. G said –
CHILD. Green Gooseberry fool, the best of cures I hold. H said –
CHILD. His Hat should be kept on, to keep him from the cold. I said –
CHILD. Some Ice upon his head will make him better soon. J said –
CHILD. Some Jam, if spread on bread, or given in a spoon! K said –
CHILD. A Kangaroo is here, — this picture let him see. L said –
CHILD. A lamp pray keep alight, to make some barley tea. M said –
CHILD. A Mulberry or two might give him satisfaction. N said –
CHILD. Some Nuts, if rolled about, might be a slight attraction. O said –
CHILD. An Owl might make him laugh, if only it would wink. P said –
CHILD. Some Poetry might be read aloud, to make him think. Q said –
CHILD. A Quince I recommend,—a Quince, or else a Quail. R said –
CHILD. Some Rats might make him move, if fastened by their tail. S said –
CHILD. A Song should now be sung, in hopes to make him laugh! T said –
CHILD. A Turnip might avail, if sliced or cut in half! U said –
CHILD. An Urn, with water hot, place underneath his chin! V said –
CHILD. I’ll stand upon a chair, and play a Violin! W said –
CHILD. Some Whisky-Whizzgigs fetch, some marbles and a ball! X said –
CHILD. Some double XX ale would be the best of all! Y said –
CHILD. Some Yeast mixed up with salt would make a perfect plaster!
CHILD. Z said – Here is a box of Zinc! Get in, my little master!
We’ll shut you up! We’ll nail you down! We will, my little master!
We think we’ve all heard quite enough of this your sad disaster!

LEAR is in his grave.

Blackout.

©Jim Grant, 2023

(This post also appears on the Edward Lear trail.)