Jane Austen’s Guide to Pornography

a play by Steven Dawson

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First Performance

 

January 17th 2007

Mechanics Institute Performing Arts Centre

Melbourne, Australia

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jane                                         Nathan Butler

Brett                                         Sean Gunn

William/Edward                         Cameron Swann

James/Marianne/Pablo               Liam Murphy

 

 

 

Directed by Steven Dawson

Produced by Out Cast Theatre

 

 

 

Copyright © January  2007

 

All Rights reserved. No part of this play may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

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This play is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the author or his agent's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

 

Any application for performance must be made to:

 

RICK RAFTOS MANAGEMENT PTY LTD

P.O. Box 445, Paddington

NSW, Australia, 2021

Telephone 61 2  9281 9622

Fax 61 2   92127100

raftos@raftos.com.au


 

THE CAST ENTER AND HOLD POSE BEFORE LAUNCHING INTO AN EARLY NINETEENTH CENTURY DANCE, JANE DANCES WITH BRETT BUT THEY ALTERNATE WITH THE OTHER CHARACTERS, EDWARD AND MARIANNE. THE DANCE BECOMES MORE FRANTIC, SPEEDING UP AS EDWARD AND MARIANNE START TO GET VERY SEXUAL, TOUCHING AND GROPING, UNTIL THEY ARE PRACTICALLY TEARING EACH OTHER’S CLOTHES OFF. THE MUSIC REACHES A CLIMAX AS EDWARD AND MARIANNE MOVE UPSTAGE AND OFF AND JANE AND BRETT MOVE DOWNSTAGE TO COLLAPSE INTO THEIR RESPECTIVE CHAIRS.

 

BLACKOUT

 

LIGHTS UP ON JANE AND BRETT, STARTLED AS IF SUDDENLY AWOKEN AND THEY GASP THEN COLLAPSE BACK IN THEIR CHAIRS TO SLEEP.

 

BLACKOUT

 

THE LIGHTS COME UP ON JANE, SITTING AT HER WRITING DESK DOWNSTAGE RIGHT. SHE IS READING A LETTER. SHE STOPS FOR A MOMENT THEN PUTS IT ASIDE. SHE TAKES UP HER PEN.

 

JANE

Miss Knight, Godmersham Park , Canterbury . My dearest Fanny, having just received your latest letter I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to hear of your engagement. I am sure that he is a most agreeable person and will do you no disservice as a husband...if that is what you wish. For myself I have forever cast away such yearnings. In my current state of health, and you know how it bemoans me to ever mention illness but t’would be folly for me to start chasing men at my age. I fear I would be relegated to that type of woman I had heard referred by our baker Mr. Slevin’s good wife as a “right old slag.” How funny common people can be. No. I shall sit here at Chawton and see out my days in quiet spinsterhood. With this wretched illness creeping upon me I fear I have “done my dash years ago”, another of Mrs. Slevin’s witticisms. Sometimes I’d quite like to slap her. Regarding the question in your last letter to me, yes I am currently working on a new piece. I am calling it Sanditon but, dearest, it does not sit well with me. It does not seem to be the story I want to write. It may be the pain I suffer at present with this wretched condition that has me out of sorts but the characters do not seem to connect as one would hope and to be perfectly blunt, the story all too familiar. I despair that perhaps I have written so many characters there is nothing singularly different about them to add. Add to that the incessant interruption of other characters once written in other stories constantly making appearance, if not so much in name then in general mannerism and tone. I cannot escape their geniality. [THE STAGE STARTS TO GROW DARK WITH OMINOUS MUSIC AND WIND] Even in sleep they invade my thoughts. I am barely free of their world. I sometimes wake to my own screaming at the thought of another Mr Darcy invading my storyline. But dearest, he is not the Darcy you always said you would throw your mound at, I still don’t understand what you meant, but at a darker, more…and I use this word reservedly, lustier gentleman.

 

EDWARD, IN DARK LONG COAT AND RIDING BRITCHES SWEEPS ONTO THE STAGE AND POSES ALMOST STATUE LIKE.

 

He seems at once removed from the world I had previously created. There is something brooding about him but not all the more enticing as I had once written him. I am perplexed as to this change in him and cannot quite put my finger on the difference.

 

EDWARD THROWS THE HEM OF HIS CLOAK BACK TO REVEAL A LARGE BULGE IN HIS PANTS.

 

Oh yes. That’s what it is. He has a big cock.

 

HE EXITS. SHE STOPS FOR A MOMENT. SHE TALKS TO THE AUDIENCE.

 

That can’t be what I meant. [SHE SCRATCHES OUT THE LAST LINE THEN THINKS FOR A MOMENT] Oh yes. [SHE WRITES AGAIN] He has an enormous phallus! Much better.

 

A MOBILE PHONE CAN BE HEARD RINGING. JANE LOOKS AROUND, WONDERING WHERRE THE NOISE IS COMING FROM. THE LIGHTS FADE ON JANE AND COME UP ON BRETT SITTING AT HIS CHAIR WITH A LAPTOP ON HIS KNEES, A COPY OF THE COLLECTED WORKS OF JANE AUSTEN NEARBY. HE IS TALKING TO SOMEONE ON A MOBILE .

 

BRETT

Yes, I’m quite aware how much time I have, Murray . I don’t need my bloody agent reminding me. What’s the worst that can happen? I mean it’s not like the Australia Council can ask for their money back, can they?  Really? Shit. That might be a problem. Bec au se I spent it on this fucking laptop, didn’t I. “Get a laptop,” you said. “You’ll be more portable, ready to get those hysterical one-liners down”, you said. Fat lot of good that did me. Why?!! Bec au se for the first 2 months I didn’t know how to operate the fucker. And by the time the little hamster on its treadmill boots up the moment’s passed and I’ve forgotten what I was going to write! That’s when I can be bothered. Typical. Been writing them down by hand for year like they’re pouring out my wazoo and the minute I go high-tech my muse fucks off to Barbados ! No, I don’t know anyone in Barbados . It’s a figure of speech! What is it with queens? As soon as someone mentions an overseas destination they think they have dibs on a new place to crash. Queens should not be allowed to travel. They should stay at home and be miserable like everyone else. Yes Murray , you are a queen. I don’t care that you’ve never sucked dick. I think you’re gay. Your wife thinks you’re gay, your kids think you’re gay. Christ, even your budgie knows you’re a flamer. Anyone with as much Bette Midler paraphernalia as that should just admit it, put on their knee pads and head straight for the docks! Yes, I know that’s funny. You write it down if it means that much to you. Now can we talk about me here? I just don’t know what to do. I know you want something r au nchy and racy but if the idea isn’t there then what do you want me to do? Smack the keyboard? I was joking. Of course the idea is there. I just can’t be asked to write the fucking stuff that goes between Lights up and The End. Bec au se I have nothing. Maybe I’ve written myself out. It is possible, you know. Maybe I have nothing left to say. Nothing new anyway. It’s all been done. By me, of course! Well, what can you expect? Thirty plays and there ain’t a single thing I haven’t said, bitched about or bored myself silly slagging off.

 

HE PICKS UP HIS COPY OF THE JANE AUSTEN COLLECTION

 

I do have one idea but you’ll probably think it’s silly. Trust me. You’ll think it’s silly. Well, I was thinking about a big romantic period epic. [BEAT] No, not a comedy. Yes it’s lovely when they l au gh but there has to be something more. Will it have what? A nude scene? No, of course it won’t have a fucking nude scene. I said romantic. There’s nothing romantic about knobs on stage. You are so typical. People do go to my plays for other reasons, you know. [BEAT] How should know? But I’m sure there are other reasons. And you know, for a straight man you always seem just a tad too eager for me to get some dick onto the stage. No, this one has to be different. I want people to go out happy. I want them to believe there is still such a thing as love. No knobs, no screaming soapbox ranting or theatrical in jokes. This one has to be as far removed from real life as I can get. Bec au se real life is ugly. Just look at politicians. Most of them look like white trash sheep shaggers or burn victims. I know I’m talking like someone who hasn’t had a fuck in months but… [BEAT] A couple of months…but that’s not the point. I need to go in a different direction. And I need you to support me on this, Murray . So you tell the council I’m gonna be a few months late. I don’t know. Make up some bullshit. Tell them I’ve got a tumour or something. You’re the agent. Lie! It’s what you do!

 

LIGHTS UP ON JANE, WRITING. THE SOUND OF A STORM AND RAIN. MARIANNE, RUNS DOWNSTAGE, WET FROM THE STORM AND SLIGHTLY EXHAUSTED. SHE TRIPS, FALLS AND SPRAINS HER ANKLE.

 

MARIANNE

Oh dear. Margaret, run to the house and get help. I am injured and do not think I can get up.

 

JANE

A gentleman carrying a gun, with two pointers playing round him, was passing up the hill, and within a few yards of Marianne, when her accident happened. He put down his gun and ran to her assistance.

 

EDWARD ENTERS, LOOKING DASHING.

 

EDWARD

Do not move. You are hurt. It is but a sprain, though with weather so inclement you may well be in danger of a chill to your chest…chest…lovely chest. Great heaving chest with huge…

 

MARIANNE

Good sir, I thank you. I shall be fine. If you could just escort me to some cover from the rain so that I might rest a while. I am sure ‘tis but a momentary fracture.

 

EDWARD

You are out of sorts as only the fairer sex can be. And some younger men of Greek nationality. You must allow me to carry you hence and home to bed.

 

MARIANNE

So that I might be put to bed.

 

EDWARD

Er…yes.

 

THEY EXIT THEATRICALLY

 

JANE

Perceiving that her modesty declined what her situation rendered necessary, he took her up in his arms, without further delay, and carried her down the hill. Then passing through the garden, the gate of which had been left open by Margaret, he…..he…

 

JANE STOPS.

 

Shit. I’ve written this before. I’m already starting to repeat myself.

 

JANE TAKES OUT ANOTHER PIECE OF PAPER.

 

Dearest Fanny, it has happened again. Those bloody Dashwoods are creeping in again. I am afraid it is symptomatic of that problem I have spoken before. I have simply run out of things to say and cannot get previous characters out of my head. I fear my illness has affected my memory somewhat. Not that it would be noticed by those few who read my little stories anyway. The pittance I receive makes me think that not only is there a limited au dience but that their intelligence is questionable to say the least. Or mine in thinking anyone would have an interest in this most puerile drivel. I tire of these characters. Nothing happens. People, they dance around a bit, they fall in love by the end and everyone is happy or at best filled with a sad melancholy. Nothing out of the ordinary ever occurs. People are mean, people babble and people float in and out of curtains whispering like idiots. I should like to throw the whole bally lot of them into a river of pus and cankerous ooze. [SHE STOPS AND JOTS THIS DOWN SEPARATELY]  Ooh, I like that. Must use it in something. [GOES BACK TO HER LETTER] I am at a loss to know what I can do. Why doesn’t anyone ever do something outrageous in my stories? What holds them back beyond the confines of social decorum required in their lives and loves? Why are they not more like you? [MARIANNE RUNS BACK ON AND POSES]  You don’t care a jot for what anyone thinks. Man, woman or beast. You don’t mind using words like…

 

MARIANNE

Cock!

 

JANE

Or

 

MARIANNE

Quim!

 

JANE

Or

 

MARIANNE

Slam my bloomers with your blue vein custard pumper!

 

SHE RUNS OFF.

 

JANE

Whatever that means.

 

JANE

No. I’m putting my foot down. I’m tired of all this niceness. I need to do something new. I need to go in another direction. I want to take risks for once in my life.

 

SHE PUTS ASIDE HER LETTER AND TAKES OUT ANOTHER PIECE OF PAPER. LIGHTS FADE ON JANE AND COME BACK UPON BRETT. HE IS TAPPING AT HIS LAPTOP. HE TAPS HARDER. HE STARES AT IT FOR AS MOMENT THEN BASHES IT HARDER.

 

BRETT

Oh fuck! [HE PAUSES] Why is this so bloody hard.? [TAPPING HIS HEAD] C’mon. Think, you soft git. Focus. What do you want to say? Go though your tiny brain. There must be an idea in there somewhere. You’ve written heaps of these fuckers before. Start with the idea. Okay….what was my idea? I can’t remember. Oh yes.  Has to be classically romantic. How the fuck does that work? Bugger it Brett, do what you always do first. Two characters meet Two men? Of course it’s two men. No queen wants to watch two women meet. Where’s the humpy-pumpy potential there? No. Putting my foot down. No knob action. Romantic. Ugh. Two men meet.

 

THE TWO MEN ENTER AND LOOK AT EACH OTHER.

 

BRETT

Well, that’s fucking original. They start to talk.

 

JAMES

Hi.

 

WILLIAM

Hi.

 

BRETT

So far, so good.

 

LIGHTS FADE ON BRETT.

 

JAMES

Been waiting long?

 

WILLIAM

20 minutes. You?

 

JAMES

I came in after you, remember?

 

WILLIAM

Oh that’s right.

 

JAMES

You look really relaxed.

 

WILLIAM

Do I?

 

JAMES

Yep. Have you taken something?

 

WILLIAM

What?

 

JAMES

Or smoked something?

 

WILLIAM

No, I…

 

JAMES

Wish the hell I had smoked something. My kid sister offered me a joint this morning and I said no. Need all my faculties. Wish the hell I had said yes now.

 

WILLIAM

You seem very nervous.

 

JAMES

I do?

 

WILLIAM

Uh-huh.

 

JAMES

You haven’t got anything, have you?

 

WILLIAM

No.

 

JAMES

Not to worry.

 

HE REACHES INSIDE HIS POCKET AND TAKES OUT A SMALL BROWN PAPER BAG THEN STARTS BREATHING HEAVILY INTO IT. WILLIAM WATCHES HIM. HE CALMS DOWN.

 

WILLIAM

Nothing like being prepared.

 

JAMES

I got the bag from Safeway. I think it’s for mushrooms. Sorry.

 

WILLIAM

Nothing to do with me.

 

JAMES

No. I know. I just get a little hyper sometimes.

 

WILLIAM

What a shocker.

 

JAMES

I must seem like a freak to you.

 

WILLIAM

Seem? No. You just need to relax. It’s only an au dition.

 

JAMES

That’s right. It’s only an au dition.

 

WILLIAM

I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? You don’t get the part?

 

JAMES

You’re right.

 

WILLIAM

Or maybe you do and it turns out to be a dog.

 

JAMES

I’ve been in plenty of those.

 

WILLIAM

Really?

 

JAMES

No.

 

WILLIAM

Then why did you…

 

JAMES

I’m nervous. I lie when I’m nervous. Things just come out of my mouth.

 

WILLIAM

Funny. Things just go into my mouth when I’m nervous.

 

JAMES

What?

 

WILLIAM

Nothing. Skip it.

 

JAMES

This is my first au dition…ever.

 

WILLIAM

Oh. Well…

 

JAMES

What?

 

WILLIAM

I was going to say…if you want my advice….

 

JAMES

Sure. Why not?

 

WILLIAM

Oh, well, if you don’t then that’s…

 

JAMES

No, I’m sorry. I mean, sure. I’d appreciate it.

 

WILLIAM

Just think that you’ve already got the part. This part is just a rehearsal. Go in there knowing exactly what you’re going to do.

 

JAMES

But I don’t know what I’m gonna do.

 

WILLIAM

But they don’t know that, do they?

 

JAMES

Oh…I get it. [HE IS COMPLETELY UNSURE WHAT WILLIAM IS TALKING ABOUT] Okay. Gotcha!

 

WILLIAM

You’ll be fine.

 

JAMES

Of course I will.

 

WILLIAM

Fuck ’em if they don’t like you.

 

JAMES

Yeah. Fuck ‘em!

 

WILLIAM

What do they know?

 

JAMES

Nothing!

 

WILLIAM

That’s right. Who are they?

 

JAMES

Yeah. Who the fuck are they?

 

WILLIAM

That’s right!

 

JAMES

No, really…who are they?

 

WILLIAM

Oh. Uh well, it will probably be the director and the producer and maybe the casting agent. How did you hear about this anyway?

 

JAMES

My sister found an ad. Said I should try out. So here I am.

 

WILLIAM

Do you know anything about it?

 

JAMES

Nothing. I just rang the number and the guy said just to come in. A cold read, he said.

 

WILLIAM

Yep. That’s it.

 

JAMES

What is?

 

WILLIAM

What’s what?

 

JAMES

What’s a cold read? Do I have to take my shirt off and they turn up the air conditioning?

 

WILLIAM

No. It’s just you reading from a script to another actor.

 

JAMES

Oh. I understand.

 

WILLIAM

Have you ever acted before?

 

JAMES

Just high school stuff. People said I was pretty funny.

 

WILLIAM

This isn’t a comedy.

 

JAMES

It isn’t?

 

WILLIAM

No.

 

JAMES

Then I’m fucked, aren’t I?

 

WILLIAM

No. Not at all. Comedy is very hard to do. This is a drama. You might find this is a lot easier. You get to get in touch with all that emotional stuff.

 

JAMES

I can get pretty emotional sometimes.

 

WILLIAM

Get away with you. You’ll be a shoo-in.

 

JAMES

I hope so.

 

WILLIAM

You’ll be fine.

 

JAMES

Yeah, of course I will.

 

WILLIAM

Just need to have a bit of confidence.

 

JAMES

Yeah. You’re right.

 

WILLIAM

And if you get the part….

 

JAMES

If?

 

WILLIAM

Sorry, when….when you get the part you get to dress up with this one as well. Costume dramas are always fun.

 

JAMES

I know. I even brought my flares. You know. To help with the au dition.

 

WILLIAM

Flares?

 

JAMES

Yeah, when he said on the phone it was set in the 1970’s I went straight out to an op shop and found some cheap flares. I’m sure they’ll help. And I love disco.

 

WILLIAM

This is set in the 1790’s.

 

JAMES

1790’s?

 

WILLIAM

Uh-huh.

 

JAMES

Then I’m fucked again, aren’t I?

 

WILLIAM

Not at all. Just don’t wear the flares. They’ll think you’re retarded. What time was your au dition?

 

JAMES

Two. You?

 

WILLIAM

Mine too. Maybe they’re seeing couples. That’ll be fun. At least we know each other a bit. That’ll help.

 

JAMES

I guess.

 

WILLIAM

Look, we’ve still got 15 minutes. Let’s just talk about something else. Take your mind off it.

 

JAMES

Okay. [PAUSE] Can I ask you something?

 

WILLIAM

Go wild.

 

JAMES

Are you gay?

 

WILLIAM

Depends.

 

JAMES

On what?

 

WILLIAM

On who’s asking and from what angle. Are you?

 

JAMES

I’m not sure.

 

WILLIAM

You’re not sure?

 

JAMES

No.

 

WILLIAM

How many cocks have you sucked?

 

JAMES

That’s a bit personal. I don’t really know you.

 

WILLIAM

You’ve just asked me if I’m gay. Some would say that’s a little personal as well.

 

JAMES

I guess

 

WILLIAM

How many?

 

JAMES

Ten.

 

WILLIAM

Ten?

 

JAMES

Actually one. But ten times. Does that make me gay?

 

WILLIAM

Doesn’t look good. Are you waiting for someone to tell you? Bec au se if that’s all it will take…

 

JAMES

I don’t like putting labels on myself.

 

WILLIAM

I don’t like wearing rainbow ponchos but we do what we must. Why the confusion?

 

JAMES

I didn’t say I was confused.

 

WILLIAM

Okay.

 

JAMES

Are you confused?

 

WILLIAM

Only with the direction this conversation has taken.

 

JAMES

This thing you do?

 

WILLIAM

Thing?

 

JAMES

You know…with other guys.

 

WILLIAM

Oh. Talk, you mean.

 

JAMES

No. Not talk.

 

WILLIAM

Play tennis?

 

JAMES

No.

 

WILLIAM

Monopoly?

 

JAMES

Of course not.

 

WILLIAM

Oh [BEAT] Slam my fat cock up their arse?

 

JAMES

Yeah, that.

 

WILLIAM

For god’s sakes, just say it. Who do you think you’re gonna offend? God?

 

JAMES

I don’t know.

 

WILLIAM

You even believe in God?

 

JAMES

I guess.

 

WILLIAM

Well that’s not wishy washy at all. Look, you’re already thinking it. If you’re thinking it and you believe in some other worldly power looking over us all who connects with every living thing in the universe, it means they know you’re thinking it and therefore the damage is done so just go with the thought and finish it bec au se he, she or whatever already knows you’re a pervert and shame on you. Besides I am firmly of the opinion that religion is the last resort of the socially inept. Fuckwits who can’t handle reality and only function in some universal collective fantasy. Am I right?

 

JAMES

I forget what I was asking.

 

WILLIAM

I’m thinking you’re a very easily distracted young chappie.

 

JAMES

It doesn’t take much.

 

WILLIAM

What about it?

 

JAMES

What about what?

 

WILLIAM

You were asking me about what I did with other guys.

 

JAMES

Oh, yeah. Does it hurt?

 

WILLIAM

Well, it sure as buggery, if you’ll excuse the pun, doesn’t hurt me!

 

JAMES

You can’t be serious about anything, can you?

 

WILLIAM

I’m a serious recycler.

 

JAMES

Forget it.

 

WILLIAM

I’m sorry. Sorry. You were asking me a serious question. It deserves a serious answer. What was the question again?

 

JAMES

Does it hurt?

 

WILLIAM

You’ll need to be more specific. Are you asking about giving or receiving?

 

JAMES

Receiving.

 

WILLIAM

I’ve no idea.

 

JAMES

You don’t know?

 

WILLIAM

That’s right, sunshine. Who’s got time to ask questions? I can’t be stopping to ask if I’m hurting them. Usually I’m screaming “Yahooo!!” or the inevitable “Weeeeeee!!!”

 

JAMES

You’re a real arsehole, you know that?

 

WILLIAM

That’s what they usually say.

 

JAMES

I don’t know why I bothered.

 

WILLIAM

It’s uncanny. Were you there?

 

JAMES

Fuck off.

 

WILLIAM

I’m sorry. Can’t help myself. Alright. Okay, you want the nice version. When he first puts it in you, you feel so much pain you want to climb out and scream and I don’t know what it is that stops you but you don’t Because you know it’s gonna feel better soon and then after a few moments the pain fades away and you start to feel this warmth and it kind of overtakes you and you start to go with it and it feels be au tiful. You connect with him and he with you and you join as one thing sharing the same heartbeat and everything melts away.

 

JAMES

That sounds nice.

 

WILLIAM

It probably is.

 

JAMES

Probably is?

 

WILLIAM

Well, how the fuck should l know? I’m no bottom boy. No one ever gets the chance to get close to my giggle valley. I’m strictly a top and I plan to stay that way till I pop my clogs.

 

JAMES

Why?

 

WILLIAM

Why? Bec au se it fucking hurts, that’s why! I tried it once when I was seventeen for all of ten seconds and they practically had to peel me down from the ceiling with a garden rake.

 

JAMES

What about all that “warmth that overtakes you and you connect with him and he with you”.

 

WILLIAM

I read it in a Women’s Weekly once. But I’m sure the same rules apply. Or maybe that was about buying a puppy. I can’t remember.

 

VOICE OVER

James? James Collins. This way please.

 

JAMES

Oh. That’s me. I thought we were doing this together.

 

WILLIAM

I guess not.

 

JAMES

That’s a pity.

 

WILLIAM

Is it?

 

JAMES

Yeah.  I liked talking you.

 

WILLIAM

In spite of all the bullshit I babbled?

 

JAMES

No. Bec au se of it.

 

WILLIAM

Don’t keep them waiting.

 

JAMES

Oh. Sure.

 

WILLIAM

Break a leg.

 

JAMES

Break a what?

 

WILLIAM

Good luck.

 

JAMES

Oh, Yeah. Of course. Break a luck.  I mean good leg…I mean…you too.

 

HE STARTS TO EXIT THEN RUNS BACK. LIGHTS COME BACK UP ON BRETT.

 

What’s your name?

 

WILLIAM

William.

 

JAMES

James.

 

WILLIAM

Have a good one. See you when you get out.

 

JAMES

Okay.

 

JAMES EXITS. THE LIGHTS COME UP ON BRETT. WILLIAM LOOKS AT HIM.

 

WILLIAM

Nice scene.

 

BRETT

Thanks.

 

WILLIAM

But it didn’t really go anywhere, did it?

 

BRETT

It introduces the characters.

 

WILLIAM

If you say so. You just had me throwing some stupid one liners is what I could see. Maybe we should have flashed some cock in that scene. Or at least a bit of arse.

 

BRETT

I’m not listening.

 

WILLIAM

Of course you forgot the most important thing.

 

BRETT

What’s that?

 

WILLIAM

I thought it was going to be a period piece.

 

BRETT

It’s going to be a story within a story.

 

WILLIAM

Oh, yes. [SARCASTIC] Audiences love those. A thinking show. That’ll pack them in. We’ll be beating them off with a stick.

 

BRETT

Fuck off.

 

WILLIAM

Suit yourself.

 

WILLIAM EXITS, LOOKING OVER HIS SHOULDER. HE PULLS DOWN THE BACK OF HIS TROUSERS AS HE GOES AND FLASHES HIS ARSE.

 

BRETT

He’s right of course. What’s so romantic about the year 2007? The country’s getting more racist and greedier, people are more suspicious and gay men and women still can’t get married while that little fucking troll war-monger has his hand on the rudder. Where’s the potential for romance there. Fuck knows. What year is it? Think eighteenth century. English? Of course it’s English. There’s nothing romantic about eighteenth century Australia . Lot ’s of convicts. Convicts? Oooh, rough trade getting it on in the bush. Oh crap. That’s no good. They’d get speared up the arse by the local kooris. Shit. There you go again. Stop thinking about sex. Not everyone in your stories has to fuck, Brett. Get your mind off your dick! Christ I need to get laid. [PAUSE] Okay, character notes and some background. What’s his name?  Edward. Sounds English enough. What does he look like? Not one of your usual pasty-grey English fuckers. This one has to look like a cross between Tom Selleck and Antonio Banderas only he speaks good English. Hot, of course. No one wants to look at a trough monster. 

 

HE CONTINUES TO TYPE. LIGHTS COME BACK UP ON JANE AT HER DESK, WRITING.

 

JANE

Sir Edward's great object in life was to be seductive. With such personal advantages as he knew himself to possess and such talents as he did also give himself credit for, he regarded it as his duty. He felt that he was formed to be a dangerous man…[BEAT] Yes, granted he is dangerous but he’s also bloody boring.

 

BRETT

Okay, so he’s hot.

 

JANE

Tall

 

BRETT

Dark

 

JANE

Or perhaps not.

 

BRETT

Dark piercing blue eyes

 

JANE

Green emerald eyes.

 

BRETT

Full sensual lips.

 

JANE

Ready to kiss

 

BRETT

Ready to suck

 

JANE

A fine, manly physique

 

BRETT

Pumped from changing all those carriage tyres or wheels or whatever they call the fuckers.

 

JANE

His dark locks sweep across his face. Women will be seduced.

 

BRETT

Guys want to fuck him.

 

JANE

They will succumb and be ruined as always. He can make fine speeches to those of a pretty countenance but then what? He goes on…and on …and on. And always in the same fashion. What makes him so different to all the rest?

 

BRETT

He thinks he has it all. He’s too cocky. He needs to lose it all and start again.

 

JANE

He needs to be challenged. By an equal perhaps? By another man?

 

BRETT

But where’s the drama?

 

JANE

They could always shoot each other, I suppose, over a woman.

 

BRETT

A woman? Fuck that. Where did that come from?

 

JANE

A duel is always interesting. No, that would make for a very short tale and…wait. Maybe the love could be between the two men? Oh that is plainly ridiculous.

 

BRETT

He could fall in love with the stable boy.

 

JANE

Men do not fall in love with other men. [PAUSE] Or do they? The Greeks were always doing it. Zeus and Ganymede. Narcissus and his reflection.  Maybe someone of foreign birth. From the continent perhaps.

 

BRETT

Turkish! Make him Turkish. They’ll shag anything.

 

JANE

It could happen.

 

BRETT

Where could they meet?

 

JANE

At a parish fair?

 

BRETT

Under a tree during a rainstorm.

 

JANE

A be au tiful day. Edward is judging harvest yields for his county tenants.

 

BRETT

His carriage breaks down, with the wind howling.

 

JANE

And the sun shining.

 

BRETT

And the stable boy appears across the meadows out of the rain and mist. His hair the colour of golden sun-kissed straw. Looks like Jude Law

 

JANE

From a James Thornhill painting.

 

BRETT

Not too pretty though.

 

JANE

Perhaps he has a small scar from a duel with a previous rival.

 

BRETT

Just above the eye.

 

JANE

His demeanour could be altogether threatening to those he is unfamiliar with. He is a foreign farmer looking to the English for plantation ideas.

 

BRETT

A golden haired Turkish farmer slash stable boy on holiday? It could work.

 

JANE

Visiting his English cousins who reside in a nearby estate.

 

BRETT

Without a word spoken between them he moves to the side of the carriage and lifts the base to allow Edward to replace the wheel with the spare. [BEAT] Spare?

 

JANE

They eye each other as Edward cuts a swathe through the crowd, and both reach for the same mug of ale at the same time at one of the many drinking stalls…

 

THE OTHER TWO ACTORS RUSH ON AND WAIT.

 

…The proud foreigner is not aware of English custom nor grace and is slightly vexed he should defer without reason to someone esteemed so highly in the village.

 

BRETT

The rain pours even heavier, drenching their loose white cotton shirts until it sticks to their oddly tanned skins.

 

JANE

The sun’s rays beat down upon their heads and masculine sweat moistens their shirts.

 

BRETT

Edward runs his hands across his chest.

 

JANE

Another jug of ale is passed to the foreigner and his anger quickly subsides as he watches Sir Edward over the edge of his tankard. They eye each other closely. Where is this going?

 

BRETT

Okay, so I’ve got them nice, wet and working hard.

 

BOTH

Now what?

 

THEY MOVE DOWNSTAGE, MIMING HOLDING UP THE SIDES OF A CARRIAGE.

 

EDWARD

 I thank you, good sir, for your assistance.

 

PABLO

[VERY ENGLISH ACCENT] Not at all. I am most happy to be of assistance to a fellow traveller in his time of need. Though t’was luck indeed I was passing this way. I am of foreign extraction and…

 

BRETT

Turkish!

 

PABLO

[WITH A VERY BAD ACCENT] I am of foreign extraction on a walking tour through this fair country of yours as part of a research project that they sometimes have in these times looking into the latest developments in crop rotation and stableboy-erie…as is also common in these times. What luck also that I was passing a county fair as you call them and come to your aid.

 

EDWARD

Good fortune indeed. You are a Christian gentleman for not many would come to my aid in this locale.

 

PABLO

[AMERICAN DEEP SOUTH ACCENT] You are not esteemed by the locals, I take it. ‘Tis the greatest test and equally a gentleman’s misfortune that he is not appreciated by those beneath him.

 

EDWARD

Pray thee allow me to commend you on your grasp of the English tongue. For a man of foreign extraction you are [SARCASTICALLY] well versed in the local dialect.

 

PABLO

[ALMOST CRYING] Yes, well, sometimes I pick things up quite quickly.

 

EDWARD

And what luck that you managed to find these two tankards of ale here under this tree.

 

PABLO

From the local county fete which is happening in the near vicinity. Yes, what luck!

 

EDWARD

Forgive me if I seem presumptuous but that shirt you wear is made of an interesting material.

 

PABLO

It is? I mean it is.

 

EDWARD

May I enquire as to where you came across such fine fabric? Your tailor must have been indeed fortunate. The thread appears to have been spun by the very angels on high.

 

PABLO

 [PAUSE] Okay.

 

BRETT

C’mon. Get on with it. Yes we know it’s a nice shirt, for fuck sakes.

 

JANE

Why is he touching the man’s shirt?

 

EDWARD

May I enquire where it comes from?

 

PABLO

Er…duty free.

 

EDWARD

Duty free?

 

BRETT

Duty free?

 

JANE SCRATCHES OUT THE LAST LINE AND REWRITES.

 

JANE

It was passed down…

 

PABLO

From a grateful father before he fell under a horse.

 

EDWARD

And let me surmise, your good mother has probably succumbed to the plague which ravages the continent as present.

 

PABLO

No, she is….

 

EDWARD

What a tragedy for so young a man. An orphan is to be much pitied in this very class conscious society. To be without a father at a most impressionable age. Tis the age when a man needs guidance from a fatherly figure. In these times [TO BRETT] “Regency” times, [BRETT FLIPS HIM THE BIRD] a man all too easily turns to the church for instruction, invariably leading him down a spiritual path and all the restrictions that it entails when what he should really be seeking is manly excitement of a more secular diversion.

 

PABLO

What?

 

EDWARD

Tell me, young man, are you beholden to anyone?

 

PABLO

I am in no contract of servitude if that is what you ask.

 

EDWARD

If I might be so bold I should like to offer you my services as spiritual advisor and instructor in the art of manhood and all it’s pursuits. You shall be my ward. And I shall call you Burt.

 

PABLO

Burt Ward? But good sir how can I…

 

EDWARD

[SPINNING HIM AROUND] Thank me? We shall think of some way.

 

THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER FOR A MOMENT THEN QUICKLY EMBRACE, AND KISS AND GROPE EACH OTHER. JANE SHRIEKS, BRETT JUMPS UP AND REALISES HE HAS HIS HAND DOWN HIS PANTS. SHE GETS UP AND STARTS PACING AROUND HER DESK.

 

BRETT

Fuck me dead!

 

JANE

Oh my goodness. Oh my.

 

BRETT

What the fuck…?

 

JANE

Stop it! Stop!  What is happening? [JANE YELLS AT THE OTHER TWO.] Go away!

 

THE MEN EXIT AS BRETT AND JANE SIT BACK DOWN.

 

BRETT

What was that all about?

 

JANE

It’s too soon. I can’t do this.

 

BRETT

Can’t you just have the characters just say hi? What’s so bloody hard about that? Ten minutes in and they’re about to start fisting each other! You’re pathetic Brett. Absolutely pathetic.

 

BOTH

What is wrong with me?

 

JANE

I need my tonic.

 

BRETT

I need a drink.

 

SHE POURS SOME TONIC INTO A SMALL GLASS. BRETT PULLS OUT A HIP FLASK AND SWIGS FROM IT AT THE SAME TIME.

 

JANE

That was…

 

BRETT

[CHOKING ON HIS DRINK] Too much…

 

JANE

Too soon. I need to rethink this.

 

BRETT

This is fucking unbelievable.

 

JANE

I’m not ready.

 

BRETT

Why is this so bloody hard?  Face it you dickhead, you’ve hit a brick wall. You want to write about love but when was the last time you were ever in love? 

 

JANE

How can I write about physical passion when I have never experienced it? All I know how to write is how people fall in love. Not the act of love itself.

 

BRETT

Men can’t write love stories.

 

BOTH

I need to think like a woman/man.

 

THEY PAUSE

 

BOTH

I can’t write this!

 

THEY HEAR EACH OTHER’S VOICES AND LOOK AROUND PUZZLED AS THE LIGHTS FADE.

 

THE LIGHTS COME UP ON JAMES. WILLIAM ENTERS.

 

WILLIAM

Oh. Hi.

 

JAMES

Hi again.

 

WILLIAM

You waited?

 

JAMES

Uh, yeah. Well I had nothing better to do for the rest of the day so I thought I’d hang around and see how you went.

 

WILLIAM

Oh. Thanks.

 

JAMES

Well?

 

WILLIAM

Well? Oh. Um…I don’t know. It only just happened. I think it went pretty well.

 

JAMES

Yeah?

 

WILLIAM

Yeah.

 

JAMES

Well that’s good.

 

WILLIAM

Yeah it is, isn’t it? But you never know.

 

JAMES

That’s right. You never know.

 

WILLIAM

He wants to see me again.

 

JAMES

Yeah. Me too.

 

WILLIAM

Really?

 

JAMES

Don‘t sound too surprised.

 

WILLIAM

What? Oh, no. I didn’t mean anything by that.

 

JAMES

I mean, just bec au se I haven’t had much experience…

 

WILLIAM

No. That’s not what I meant. I meant that’s great. Good luck.

 

JAMES

You mean break a leg.

 

WILLIAM

Right. Break a leg, of course.

 

LONG PAUSE

 

JAMES

Pretty stupid expression that. Break a leg.

 

WILLIAM

Yeah. Pretty stupid.

 

JAMES

Wonder where it comes from.

 

WILLIAM

Oh it’s been around for donkey’s years. Since early last century I believe. Some people even think it was attributed to Sarah Bernhardt so it could be older but that would be pretty stupid don’t you think? And a little cruel.

 

JAMES

Yeah. I guess. Who is she?

 

WILLIAM

What? Oh she was an actress early last century.

 

JAMES

Right. Why was it cruel?

 

WILLIAM

She only had one leg.

 

JAMES

Oh. I guess that would be a little cruel.

 

WILLIAM

Common opinion is that it’s from the Jewish phrase 'hatzlakha u-brakha.' They used it a lot in American v au deville. It means success and blessing. There were a lot of Jews in the theatre in the early part of the 20th century in the States.

 

JAMES

I get it. Boy you sure know a lot of crap.

 

WILLIAM

It’s my specialty.

 

JAMES

Look, I wanted to apologise for before.

 

WILLIAM

Before?

 

JAMES

Yeah. When I asked about you being gay and all that shit.

 

WILLIAM

Oh. That’s okay.

 

JAMES

You sure?

 

WILLIAM

Uh-huh. I hope I didn’t freak you out.

 

JAMES

No. Of course not. Well, maybe just a little.

 

WILLIAM

I tend to do that sometimes.

 

JAMES

Do what?

 

WILLIAM

Freak people out.

 

JAMES

Can’t think why.

 

WILLIAM

Yeah. So who was this guy you were talking about?

 

JAMES

Guy?

 

WILLIAM

The one you sucked off ten times. I assume it was a guy.

 

JAMES

Of course it was…

 

WILLIAM SMILES.

 

Oh. Very funny. Um, just someone from school.

 

WILLIAM

It doesn’t embarrass you, me asking does it?

 

JAMES

No. Not really. It was a long time ago. When I was in high school.

 

WILLIAM

Well, that wasn’t that long ago, surely.

 

JAMES

Five years ago. Just my best mate and me. We were drunk. You know how it is.

 

WILLIAM

But didn’t you say you did it ten times?

 

JAMES

Yeah. So?

 

WILLIAM

Well either it was a very long drinking session or…

 

JAMES

The first time we were drunk.

 

WILLIAM

And the other times?

 

JAMES

We had nothing better to do.

 

WILLIAM

Pinball? Space invaders. Those weren’t options?

 

JAMES

Space invaders? What century do you come from?

 

WILLIAM

Why did you only do it ten times?

 

JAMES

He moved.

 

WILLIAM

Lucky for you. Some guys I’ve been with I couldn’t get to move with 20 kilos of gelignite under their arse.

 

JAMES

He moved to another state.

 

WILLIAM

Oh well. Them’s the breaks.

 

JAMES

Yeah.

 

WILLIAM

And no-one since?

 

JAMES

Nope.

 

WILLIAM

Boy, that’s gotta suck. Or not, as the case may be. Why not?

 

JAMES

Haven’t really met anyone I wanna do it with again.

 

WILLIAM

Do it with? That‘s romantic. What about women?

 

JAMES

What about them?

 

WILLIAM

Well, have you ever “done it” with one?

 

JAMES

Yeah. Of course. I’m not a complete poof.

 

WILLIAM

Sorry. Don’t know what I was thinking.

 

JAMES

You older gay guys are really quick to put labels on people.

 

WILLIAM

Older guys? Yes, I’m such a nanna.

 

JAMES

I just like the thought of doing it with guys much better.

 

WILLIAM

But you haven’t done it in five years.

 

JAMES

No.

 

WILLIAM

Well you better get a move on then bec au se these are your salad days. In your twenties you should be out there, rooting everything that moves. Shag your brains out, turkey slap anything with an Adam’s apple. Bec au se the time will come when no-one will pay you the least amount of attention and you end up with one arm bigger than the other from jacking off twenty four seven. I speak from personal experience.

 

JAMES

You jack off a lot?

 

WILLIAM

I don’t know. Is “too much” when only air comes out?

 

JAMES

Are you with anyone?

 

WILLIAM

Well, right now I’m with you.

 

JAMES

I mean do you have a boyfriend or something?

 

WILLIAM

No.

 

JAMES

Why not?

 

WILLIAM

Um…bec au se the world is full of total bastards who don’t get me.

 

JAMES

What’s so hard to get?

 

WILLIAM

I’m complicated…apparently.

 

JAMES

Who told you that?

 

WILLIAM

My last six boyfriends…and my mother.

 

JAMES

Maybe you are.

 

WILLIAM

Perhaps.

 

JAMES

Look, do you want to get a coffee or something?

 

WILLIAM

I’m not really much of a coffee drinker.

 

JAMES

Or we could just have sex.

 

WILLIAM

Actually a strong flat white sounds pretty good.

 

JAMES

Was that too much? I’m sorry.

 

WILLIAM

No, of course not.

 

JAMES

If you don’t want to, that’s okay.

 

WILLIAM

No. It’s not that.

 

JAMES

Then what?

 

WILLIAM

Why?

 

JAMES

Why?

 

WILLIAM

Uh-huh.

 

JAMES

Why do I want to have sex?

 

WILLIAM

I mean why do you want to have sex with me?

 

JAMES

Um, bec au se I think you’re good looking…

 

WILLIAM

Thanks.

 

JAMES

For an older guy.

 

WILLIAM

Spoke too soon.

 

JAMES

And I like your personality. What else do I need?

 

WILLIAM

Nothing except your head examined.

 

JAMES

Do you live local?

 

WILLIAM

Three train stops.

 

JAMES

I have a car.

 

WILLIAM

Oh good for you.

 

JAMES

So do you want to?

 

WILLIAM

Maybe.

 

JAMES

Well, if you don’t want to.

 

WILLIAM

Oh no. It’s not that.

 

JAMES

Or you don’t find me attractive.

 

WILLIAM

No. It’s not that either. It’s just…I have a dentist appointment at 4pm . We’d only have like 30mins.

 

JAMES

Did I mention it’s been five years since I’ve had sex with another person? I could go off like a firecracker at any second.

 

WILLIAM

Five years?

 

JAMES

Yep. I’m pretty chokka.

 

WILLIAM

Gentleman, start your engines.

 

BLACKOUT

 

LIGHTS UP ON JANE AND BRETT AROUND THE STAGE. THEY ALMOST MOVE THROUGH A DANCE MOMENT.

 

BRETT

This is ridiculous.

 

JANE

If I had the strength I would take a walk. To clear my head.

 

BRETT

Maybe I should go to a bar. Get blotto.

 

JANE

No.

 

BRETT

That’s not the answer.

 

THEY SIT DOWN

 

JANE

I shall never finish this. Not at the rate I am going.

 

BRETT

What if I don’t do this? They can only ask for their money back.

 

JANE

I have already been paid a small advance. I shall have to return it.

 

BRETT

Mind you, that’ll be like getting blood from a stone.

 

BOTH

I need some help!

 

THEY LOOK AT THEIR WRITING FOR A MOMENT. BRETT PICKS UP HIS COPY OF JANE AUSTEN AND THUMBS THROUGH IT.

 

BRETT

Jane, how the hell did you ever finish anything?

 

JANE

It isn’t easy. I had constant interruption from family and servants. For the most part my stories were all written in secret. This is the first time I have had a room to call my own in which to write.

 

BRETT

You wrote such big stories.

 

JANE

I asked my brother not to fix the creaking door so I could know when someone was about to interrupt but now that I have solitude I would so welcome intrusion to break the monotony. I was surrounded by many voices. I think we need to hear other voices. To breathe life into new characters.

 

BRETT

I guess I’m just like you. Now I have the privacy I want to be amongst people.

 

JANE

Why is that?

 

BRETT

I don’t know. Bec au se we’re human and crave company?

 

JANE

I think so as well.

 

AFTER A PAUSE

 

BRETT

I’m stuck.

 

JANE

I, too. It is quite a predicament. My stories lack a degree of human passion. Yours lack romance. My dilemma is that my life this far has been almost passion free.

 

BRETT

I need to write about love but so far it’s all been pretty much on the surface. There hasn’t been any sacrifice.

 

JANE

Love does not need sacrifice to bloom.

 

BRETT

Believe me. In my writing it needs something. I need you to help me.

 

JANE

Help you?

 

BRETT

Yep. I’ll help you with yours if you help me with mine.

 

JANE

I’ve never collaborated with…

 

BRETT

It’s not a collaboration. We’ll just give each other pointers. You with the romance crap and me with the sexy bits. What do you say?

 

JANE

Romance crap? I can see why you’re having difficulties.

 

BRETT

Okay?

 

JANE

But you write theatricals. They are not in the same style.

 

BRETT

Look, for the most part you write what people think, yes?

 

JANE

Yes.

 

BRETT

Well I make them actually say it. Different ways of painting the picture, Jane. The thing that connects them is story. Story is everything.

 

JANE

Are we writing the same story?

 

BRETT

Believe me, we’re all writing the same story. There’s nothing new under the sun, Jane.

 

JANE

Very well.

 

BRETT

So you’ll do it? Good.. Okay. So what have you got?

 

JANE

Let me see. [SHE READS FROM A PAGE] “Edward approached…” Pablo, is it?

 

BRETT

Pablo. That’s right.

 

JANE

 “Pablo” with trepidation. He knew what he wanted and would not broker resistance from the young stable hand. As the rain fell heavily outside, the stable took on a luminous glow from the lantern. Edward’s shadow danced across the stable wall as he moved closer to Pablo.”

 

BRETT

Okay, nice setup. Now here’s the point where we can make it a little more erotic.

 

JANE

Erotic?

 

BRETT

Yep. Get some real stuff in there for once.

 

JANE

I like to think my stories are very real.

 

BRETT

Yes they’re all very real and very lovely. But the problem is that your writing’s so uptight that no-one ever really lets go. They’re all corseted and constipated.

 

JANE

Maybe we should save that for the title.

 

BRETT

Maybe. Look, you want to make some money for once, don’t you?

 

JANE

That would be lovely. I haven’t exactly made a steady income from my scribblings.

 

BRETT

Nor will you if you want to know the truth of it. Not if you don’t do something about it. The only way to guarantee some income is to give people what they want. People always want to read the n au ghty stuff. Grab the reader’s attention.

 

JANE

I thought a good story did that. My readers would be horrified.

 

BRETT

They don’t know who writes this stuff, do they?

 

JANE

A woman does not put her name on writing.

 

BRETT

So what are you afraid of?

 

JANE

Only my reputation.

 

BRETT

If your name’s not on there you can’t lose. Besides, this could be whole new market for you. You can even invent a new nom-de-plume if you like. Put them off the scent completely. Who are you writing for anyway? Them or yourself?

 

JANE

Myself I suppose.

 

BRETT

Then why not go the whole hog and get some porn into it.

 

JANE

Alright. I shall.

 

BRETT

You have no idea what I’m talking about. Do you?

 

JANE

Of course I do.

 

BRETT

Really?

 

JANE

Yes.

 

BRETT

Then what is it?

 

JANE

What is what?

 

BRETT

Porn.

 

JANE

I…uh…it’s Italian, isn’t it?

 

BRETT

Nice try Jane.

 

JANE

Okay. I give up. What is it?

 

BRETT

Porn.

 

SHE LOOKS BLANKLY.

 

Pornography?

 

JANE

I still don’t understand the word.

 

HE TYPES INTO HIS LAPTOP, CHECKING THE INTERNET. THERE IS A SLIGHT PAUSE.

 

Brett?

 

BRETT

Hang on. Alright. It’s from the Greek porni or whores. And graphien…like..to write. The “writing of harlots.”  Well that’s what it used to mean but it’s kind of evolved into language or images or anything at all of an overtly sexual nature.

 

JANE

Oh. Pornography. I thought it sounded foreign. But I still don’t really understand it.

 

BRETT

Of course not. Why would you? Your era was so uptight they’d faint at the sight of a woman’s ankle. Show them some dick and they’d probably prolapse on the footpath.

 

JANE

No-one ever has fainted in my novels. Except in Emma but that’s all. And certainly not bec au se she saw this Dick person! [PAUSE] So that is what they call pornography?

 

BRETT

That’s right.

 

JANE

And you know how to write this?

 

BRETT

My critics and lots of prudes think I write nothing else. Lots of sucking and fucking.

 

JANE

Oh.

 

BRETT

Oh so you’ve heard those words before, have you?

 

JANE

I am not completely innocent in the language of the gutter.

 

BRETT

My mother thinks it’s the only language I know. But you shouldn’t be too familiar with that sort of thing anyway. Aren’t you still a virgin?

 

JANE

A gentleman does not ask such questions! That is a subject of conversation restricted to between a woman and her husband and only then as an understanding.

 

BRETT

But you’re not married are you?

 

JANE

No.

 

BRETT

Nor is it likely you’ll ever be married.

 

JANE

I do not think it will happen. No.

 

BRETT

Well, you’re hardly an expert on sex then, are you?

 

JANE

Are you such an expert?

 

BRETT

I’ve done a few laps of the oval.

 

JANE

What?

 

BRETT

Yes.

 

JANE

You have…indulged in fornication?

 

BRETT

I’ve fornicated my brains out sometimes.

 

JANE

What do you call it when someone does that?

 

BRETT

I used to call it Friday nights.

 

JANE

I can assure you I have heard those words before.

 

BRETT

What words?

 

JANE

The words you used before to describe the sex act.

 

BRETT

The sex act? Yes, you may have heard them but have you ever used them?

 

JANE

What words in particular?

 

BRETT

I don’t know. Fisting? Ever you used that one?

 

JANE

I think I used it once in Mansfield Park .

 

BRETT

Yeah, right. What about felching?

 

JANE

There is no need to be vulgar.

 

BRETT

It’s not vulgar. It’s just a word. Do you even know what it is?

 

JANE

No, but it sounds frightfully Mediterranean.

 

BRETT

They’re all just words.  Cunt, cock, fucking, jism. All words. Physically they can’t hurt anybody.

 

JANE

I feel slightly n au seous just hearing them. I think we can find other words to express what we need to say without resorting to that type of language.

 

BRETT

What type of language? Give me an example.

 

JANE

Of what?

 

BRETT

What words?

 

JANE

You do not need me to say it.

 

BRETT

Apparently I do.

 

JANE

Er…fellatio. That’s a word, isn’t it?

 

BRETT

Oh yes, we’re all getting excited. “He held him to the ground and performed fellatio in him. The school mistress shivered with lust as she smacked the French loaf right into her labia majora.”

 

JANE

Sounds perfectly adequate to me.

 

BRETT

If you can’t say it then you can’t write it and this whole conversation is pointless.

 

JANE

I can write it. There is just no need to…

 

BRETT

Look, you need me as much as I need you. You help me give a little more romance to my story and I’ll help you with the sexy bits. Go out with a bang, as it were.

 

JANE

I’m still not sure.

 

BRETT

And if it doesn’t sell on the main market I guarantee you a nice, hefty profit from the under classes who will eat up this stuff.

 

JANE

You really think people will buy this type of story?

 

BRETT

Trust me. Sex sells.

 

JANE STARTS TO WRITE FURIOUSLY AS MARIANNE RUNS DOWNSTAGE, WET FROM THE STORM AND SLIGHTLY EXHAUSTED. SHE TRIPS, FALLS AND SPRAINS HER ANKLE.

 

MARIANNE

Oh fuck me…I mean…Oh dear. Margaret, run to the house and get help. I am injured and do not think I can get up.

 

EDWARD ENTERS, LOOKING DASHING.

 

EDWARD

Do not move! You are hurt. It is but a sprain, though with weather so inclement you may well be in danger of a chill to your chest…chest…lovely chest. Great heaving chest with huge…

 

MARIANNE

Good sir, I thank you. I shall be fine. If you could just escort me to some cover from the rain so that I might rest a while. I am sure ‘tis but a momentary fracture.

 

EDWARD

You are out of sorts as only the fairer sex can be. And some younger men of Greek nationality. You must allow me to carry you hence and home to bed.

 

MARIANNE

So that I might be put to bed.

 

EDWARD

Er…yes. Here let me help you.

 

HE HELPS HER UP UNTIL HE IS POSITIONED BEHIND HER.

 

My, what a big hefty girl you are.

 

MARIANNE

I thank you sir but I think I can manage…

 

EDWARD

Such a chunky chick.

 

MARIANNE

Good sir, I…

 

HE FONDLES HER BREAST FROM BEHIND.

 

EDWARD

Careful how you go. You could fall once more and do you yourself more damage.

 

SHE IS LOOKING AT HIS WANDERING HANDS.

 

MARIANNE

Thank you but I think I shall be alright. If you could just….

 

EDWARD

Hush. You will exh au st yourself.

 

HE PUSHES HER OVER, RAISES HER DRESS AND STARTS TO HUMP HER FROM BEHIND.

 

MARIANNE

Good sir please, you mustn’t….Good sir….good sir!

 

HE IS POUNDING INTO HER FROM BEHIND VERY RIGOROUSLY. SHE IS ECSTATIC.

 

Good, sir! Good, sir! Gooooddd!!!! God! Oh yes, that’s right. [AFTER SOME POUNDING] Come on! Do it! That’s it bitch! Give me both inches!

 

BLACKOUT. LIGHTS COME UP ON JANE AT HER DESK. THIS TIME READING.

 

JANE

“Edward held Pablo down. His mouth sought the young stable hand’s warm Turkish lips in  unbridled frenzy. He ran his tongue over the young man’s sun-cracked lips and moistened them. He hovered for just a moment to taste the salt before his tongue plunged deep into the man’s mouth. He wondered what it would feel like to plunge this instrument of pleasure into Pablo’s lower breach.” [SHE STARTS TO WRITE AGAIN] He wanted to taste the man’s sweat as he ran his tongue across Pablo’s chest. He followed the faint trail of golden curls that lead down to his engorged heavily veined throbbing cock. He peel backed the foreskin like a child unwrapping a yuletide gift and sucked the bulbous head into his mouth as one would an over-ripened mango. Gnawing at the flesh he pushed his face down until his lips hit the young man’s pelvis. Pablo breathed heavily, his chest rising up and down to follow the motions of his new lover whose lips now pressed heavily against the base of his huge cock. He could feel the young man’s tempest rising and, not wanting to miss a drop of Eros’ golden fluid, pulled back as the young Adonis exploded his seed into Edward’s waiting and welcoming mouth. As the young man’s tumescence expired Edward flipped the young man until he was sitting astride him and spat the remains right up the young man’s eager gaping hole and pondered what it would be like to have the gorgeous young man explode his waste across his face. He wanted to taste his shit!

 

SHE STOPS, LOOKS AT THE PAGES, HORRIFIED. SHE FAINTS ACROSS HER WRITING DESK.

 

BLACKOUT

 

LIGHTS UP ON WILLIAM AND JAMES, NAKED ON THE FLOOR IN AN ALMOST CLASSICAL POSE KISSING. THEIR BOXER SHORTS BESIDE THEM.

 

JAMES

That was great.

 

WILLIAM

No it wasn’t.

 

JAMES

It wasn’t?

 

WILLIAM

No. It was perfect.

 

JAMES

I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Don’t forget. Five years.

 

WILLIAM

I feel like I should write you a reference or something. You get extra points just for stamina, not to mention degree of difficulty.

 

JAMES

I think you missed your appointment.

 

WILLIAM

And I think you missed your calling. You could go professional.

 

JAMES

No. I think you missed your dentist appointment.

 

WILLIAM

Er… Fuck it.

 

JAMES

That’s what I say.

 

WILLIAM

You want to get something to eat?. For some reason I’m famished.

 

JAMES

Can’t. Gotta get home.

 

WILLIAM

Home?

 

JAMES

Yeah. Of course. My mum will be getting tea ready.

 

WILLIAM

Oh shit.

 

JAMES

What?

 

WILLIAM

You live with your mum?

 

JAMES

Of course I do.

 

WILLIAM

Bloody hell.

 

JAMES

What’s wrong?

 

WILLIAM

I forgot what I was dealing with.

 

JAMES

What?

 

WILLIAM

You’re just a kid.

 

JAMES

Not such a kid.

 

WILLIAM

Don’t be ridiculous. You are a kid. What are you? Twenty four? Twenty five?

 

JAMES

Twenty three.

 

WILLIAM

Bloody hell!

 

HE GETS UP AND PUTS HIS SHORTS ON.

 

JAMES

What’s the problem?

 

WILLIAM

The problem is you’re a horny kid and I’m just a dirty old man. I’m almost old enough to be your…much older and better looking brother. Christ.

 

JAMES

Why are you getting upset?

 

WILLIAM

That’s not the sort of person I want to be.

 

JAMES

I don’t understand.

 

WILLIAM

Of course you don’t. You’re a kid!

 

JAMES PUTS HIS SHORTS ON

 

JAMES

You don’t have to keep saying that. You’re not that old, are you?

 

WILLIAM

I’m in my late thirties. I’ve probably got pubic hairs older than you.

 

JAMES

I got a close look. None of them were grey. And your age doesn’t bother me.

 

WILLIAM

Well, it sure as shit bothers me.

 

JAMES

Why? I thought you liked me.

 

WILLIAM

I did. I do.

 

JAMES

So what’s the problem? You can’t say you didn’t enjoy yourself.

 

WILLIAM

Of course I enjoyed it. That’s not the point.

 

JAMES

Then what is?

 

WILLIAM

Look, you better go.

 

JAMES

When can I see you again?

 

WILLIAM

Just go.

 

JAMES EXITS. AFTER A LONG PAUSE…

 

Shit.

 

BLACKOUT

 

 

THE LIGHTS COME UP ON JANE STANDING NEXT TO BRETT READING SOME OF HIS PAGES

 

JANE

“Edward kissed Pablo. He had never known such excitement and such tenderness from one person. Such passion in one so young. He wiped away the sweat from the young man’s brow. He was afraid as he gathered him up in his arms that he would, for all the younger man’s masculinity, break him after their bout of lovemaking…” [SHE STOPS READING ] Bout of lovemaking?

 

BRETT

I know. Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?

 

JANE

No, it’s not that. I just had never thought of lovemaking as a pugilistic endeavour. You may as well have had them in a duel and blow each other’s heads off.

 

BRETT

Now who’s being crass?

 

JANE

You started well but then the cart has thrown you. The words must be fluid just as lovemaking in itself must be a fluid motion.

 

BRETT

Sounds disgusting.

 

JANE

If you do not want my help…

 

BRETT

No, it’s just that it’s taking forever.

 

JANE

This is a draft, is it not?

 

BRETT

Yes, but…

 

JANE

Well, once we are over the first draft you can edit it into a worthier shape. I see my novels as  blocks of marble. You hack away at the whole block until the basic outline is there. Then fine shape and sand the rough away to reveal it’s inner be au ty.

 

BRETT

Well, you’re right about the hack part of it.

  

JANE

You cannot rush this.

 

BRETT

Easy for you to say. You don’t have a deadline and an agent breathing down your neck. I need to have a finished story and soon. So far I have wet shirts, some dark looks and the potential for a bit of how’s-your-father in the stable. In other words, nothing. Nada, zip, zilch.

 

JANE

You just need to stop making your characters so limited by the potential for sex. Sex should not be the only thing that goes on.

 

BRETT

I know that. That’s my point. The trouble is I can’t write lovey-dovey dialogue. Not without feeling the need to hurl last Saturday’s vindaloo all across my laptop. With my characters it’s all about sex.

 

JANE

Do they ever love each other?

 

BRETT

How should I know? Sometimes they fall in love but that happens after the story ends. Most times it’s just an excuse to get their gear off.

 

JANE

Why?

 

BRETT

Why? Bec au se that’s the way men are. Well, most of the men I know. Everyone’s cock driven.

 

JANE

Do they have to be?

 

BRETT

Spoken like a woman. You obviously have no idea what being a man is all about.

 

JANE

I have an inkling.

 

BRETT

That’s why your novels all have heroines. Your male characters are so bloody uptight and one dimensional they could pass for wallpaper.

 

JANE

That’s not really how they are.

 

BRETT

I know.

 

JANE

I know so little about the male mind. I write in solitude bec au se it is without interruption and I would surmise that my interaction with men is fairly restricted. My brothers and my late father were the only men I ever really had any enduring conversations with. Unfortunately they were never indelicate enough to express themselves too openly. It would have been un-gentlemanly.

 

BRETT

You see what I mean? Uptight.

 

JANE

Oh.

 

BRETT

I’m sorry. I’m just a little frustrated at present.

 

JANE

I write about women’s feelings and emotions bec au se that is what I know.

 

BRETT

I know and that works for you. Bec au se most of your readers are doe-ey eyed schoolgirls in mortal fear they’ll end up spinsters. Or bull dykes.

 

JANE

Bull dykes?

 

BRETT

Oh crap. Um. Badger growlers? Merkin munchers? Slit suckers?

 

JANE

I don’t understand.

 

BRETT

Lovers of the poet Sapho? Lesbians. Women who like having sex with women!

 

JANE

Really? Is that possible?

 

BRETT

I doubt it. I think they just make it up to confuse the shit out of everyone.

 

JANE

That sounds very amusing.

 

BRETT

Believe me. Bull dykes are never amusing. Most of them are just plain scary.

 

JANE

Maybe I should be a bull dyke.

 

BRETT

I’m sure you’ll be very successful at it. Now can we focus on me?

 

JANE

I’m sorry. Why?

 

BRETT

Why what?

 

JANE

Why are you frustrated?

 

BRETT

Oh I don’t know. My life is shit, my finances are low. I have an overdue story and I don’t know where the fucker is going…if you’ll pardon the expression, and it’s been at least six months since I had sex!

 

JANE

Is that so important?

 

BRETT

Which part, Jane?

 

JANE

The sex.

 

BRETT

I’m a man. Of course it’s important.

 

JANE

Why?

 

BRETT

Why? I don’t know. It just is. Men are permanently in a state of rut. When they’re not humping each other they’re humping meat bi-products.

 

JANE

Beasts of the fields.

 

BRETT

If they’re from New Zealand .

 

JANE

No. That is what my mother called them.

 

BRETT

Your mum was right. Men need that sexual release these days or we go mental.

 

JANE

Not like the men of my time.

 

BRETT

No. In your time it was about honour, loyalty and all that crap.

 

JANE

Not such unworthy attributes.

 

BRETT

No. The only trouble is no-one ever got laid. Or if they did they’d end up syphilitic before their wedding day then blind and ga-ga a few years later.

 

JANE

I had an uncle like that.

 

BRETT

We’ve all had uncles like that! Look, I’m going to take a break.

 

JANE

You’re giving up already?

 

BRETT

I’m not giving up.

 

JANE

If you say so.

 

BRETT

It’s alright for you Jane. You’ll be dead in a few months. You’ll be…

 

JANE

What?

 

BRETT

I…uh…nothing.

 

JANE

No. You must finish what you were saying.

 

BRETT

It doesn’t matter what I said. I was just talking out my arse.

 

JANE

I…will be dead?

 

BRETT

Let’s just go on.

 

JANE

You know when I will die?

 

BRETT

No. You’re not going to die. How could you? You’re already dead. You’ve been dead for two hundred years.

 

JANE

But I’m not dead. I’m right here. I’m speaking to you. I move around my room.

 

BRETT

Yes. But you’re not really here, are you?

 

JANE

I feel I am.

 

BRETT

You’re not real. You’re just happening inside my head. None of this is real.

 

JANE

Who says?

 

BRETT

Who says? No one says. It’s just the reality. Right now you’re just a dream I’m having. Or I’ve passed out and this whole conversation is just the arse end of a drunken stupor.

 

JANE

That’s not right.

 

BRETT

It doesn’t matter.

 

JANE

Wait. How do we know it’s not you who’s dead and I’m imagining you as someone from the future. A future that will never exist.

 

BRETT

That doesn’t even make any sense.

 

JANE

It makes as much sense as what you are telling me.

 

BRETT

Be reasonable.

 

JANE

I am being perfectly reasonable! What makes you think your reality is more valid than mine? You don’t have the right to tell me I don’t exist anymore. You are something I have dreamt. I have taken too much of my tonic and you are just a misty imagining concocted from the night’s vapours. You will disappear in the morning when I wake. You will be no more.

 

BRETT

Okay.

 

JANE

How can you be so certain?

 

BRETT

Bec au se I know all about you. Well, what there is to know.

 

JANE

And I could say the same about you.

 

BRETT

You know nothing about me.

 

JANE

I know you are cruel and obstinate and confused! You can’t even finish your story.

 

BRETT

Anyone could have told you that.

 

JANE

What makes you so certain?

 

BRETT

Bec au se I studied you in university at least 10 years ago.

 

JANE

That is not possible.

 

BRETT

How old are you?

 

JANE

I am 41.

 

BRETT

I thought so. Let’s see, I know you were born December 16th, 1775 at Steventon in Hampshire. You’re one of eight children, your father George was a Church Of England minister and that, apart from one sister Cassandra, all the rest are brothers including your favourite Henry.

 

JANE

Anyone could have told you that as well. It scarcely makes you an au thority on my life.

 

BRETT

Your father died in 1805 and your brother Henry went bankrupt in 1815 but managed to survive later by publishing your last few novels and letters after your death. He in turn died in 1850. In early 1817 you start work on another novel, Sanditon, but never finish it. [PAUSE]  Those marks on your face, the yellowish and black blotches, they’re supposed to be from Addison’s disease…[HE REALISES HE HAS SHOCKED HER AND PAUSES]..That’s a type of tuberculosis. On April 27th you draft up a will, leaving almost everything to Cassandra and on May 24 you move to Winchester for medical treatment.

 

JANE

And?

 

BRETT

After an illness that has lasted barely a year you die on July 18th 1817… Age 41.

 

JANE

I see.

 

BRETT

If it’s any consolation…the end, when it comes is very quick.

 

JANE

You know that?

 

BRETT

I read it.

 

JANE

But you do not know.

 

BRETT

No.

 

JANE

And my story will not be finished?

 

BRETT

Not by you, no. Many fools will try when you’re gone.

 

JANE

Very well.

 

SHE STARTS TO WALK UPSTAGE.

 

BRETT

Jane?

 

JANE

I am tired.

 

BRETT

Sure. We’ll talk later?

 

JANE

Perhaps.

 

LIGHTS FADE TO JANE IN SILHOUETTE THEN BLACKOUT. LIGHTS COME UP ON WILLIAM AND JAMES DRESSED IN PERIOD COSTUME.

 

WILLIAM

I can’t fucking believe it. What are the chances? How could they go and cast us both in the same show. This is going to be a nightmare. [LONG PAUSE]  Aren’t you going to say anything?

 

JAMES

Fuck off you dozy cunt.

 

WILLIAM

Well, that’s succinct.

 

JAMES

Apart from your lines, you haven’t spoken to me in two weeks.

 

WILLIAM

I see.

 

JAMES

I see? Is that all you can say to me? How about “I’m sorry.” Would that be too much to ask?

 

WILLIAM

What have I got to be sorry about?

 

JAMES

2 minutes after we have sex you kick me out. Dump me like some bit of tissue.

 

WILLIAM

That’s not how it was.

 

JAMES

That’s exactly how it was. I liked you. Enough to want to get closer to you. I haven’t done that in years with anyone. But you throw that all back in my face.

 

WILLIAM

You’re too young. You don’t know what you’re talking about.

 

JAMES

There you go again with that age shit. It makes no difference to me how old you are but you’re so hung up on it.

 

WILLIAM

I’m not hung up on it.

 

JAMES

You know what’s gonna happen, don’t you?

 

WILLIAM

Happen?

 

JAMES

Yep. Nothing.

 

WILLIAM

Nothing?

 

JAMES

That’s right. Nothing. For the rest of your life nothing’s gonna happen. You’ll just get older and older and more alone.

 

WILLIAM

That’s your considered opinion is it?

 

JAMES

Why couldn’t you just be honest with me?

 

WILLIAM

I thought I was.

 

JAMES

Really? I got two words for you. “Six boyfriends.” That’s how many you’ve had, isn’t it? Well, they can’t all be wrong. You’re not complicated at all. Unless complicated also means 100 per cent “a” grade arsehole. The reason I let you do those things to me is bec au se even in the few minutes we spent together I knew deep down I liked you. I haven’t been twiddling my thumbs for five years, you know. I’ve had offers. Not a week goes by when I don’t get propositioned by someone.  But I tell ‘em no. C au se unlike you with all your talk I’m not out just for sex. I want something a little more lasting. You’re not complicated at all. You’re just a dick!

 

WILLIAM

Well, that’s adult. Are you finished?

 

JAMES

With you? Yeah. Well and truly. You’re just a fucking coward! So how about you take that complicated love-free life of yours, wrap it up in your smart words and stick it up your arse! Maybe that’ll help fill that huge void, you fucking granny! [YELLING OFFSTAGE]  Sorry, Brett. I can’t do this show anymore. I quit.

 

HE STORMS OFF. LIGHTS FADE ON WILLIAM.

 

BLACKOUT

 

LIGHTS UP ON BRETT AT HIS DESK. HE LOOKS AT THE SCREEN. HE TAPS AWAY FOR A FEW MOMENTS.

 

BRETT

Jane?

 

THERE IS NO ANSWER. AFTER A MOMENT HE CLOSES HIS LAPTOP

 

BLACKOUT

 

BRETT STANDS IN A SEX CLUB. A DARK FIGURE COMES UP BEHIND HIM AND RUNS HIS HANDS OVER BRETT’S CHEST. BRETT TURNS AND EMBRACES THE STRANGER. THEY GROPE EACH OTHER FOR A FEW MOMENTS THEN BRETT TRIES TO KISS HIM ON THE MOUTH. THE STRANGER STOPS HIM. THEY RESUME GROPING. ONCE MORE BRETT TRIES TO KISS HIM BUT THE STRANGER REBUFFS HIM VIOLENTLY AND WALKS OFF. BRETT STANDS DEJECTED.

 

BLACKOUT

 

THE SOUND OF RAIN WHICH CONTINUES FOR THE REST OF THE PLAY. THE LIGHTS COME BACK ON BRETT SITTING ON THE FLOOR IN FRONT OF HIS SEAT. HE IS SURROUNDED BY PAGES FROM HIS SCRIPT. HE READS A PAGE THEN READS MORE. HE STARTS TO SCREW THE PAGES UP THEN STARTS TEARING THEM UP. HE BECOMES SO OVERWRAUGHT HE BREAKS DOWN SOBBING

 

BRETT

Jane?

 

HE HANGS HIS HEAD AND CONTINUES SOBBING. THE LIGHTS COME UP ON JANE IN SILHOUETTE IN THE BACKGROUND IN AN EERIE DOORWAY LIGHT.

 

JANE

[VOICEOVER] How can you write about love when you do not understand it? How can you write about love when you have never felt love for anyone but yourself? Where is your sacrifice?

 

BRETT

Jane?

 

THE LIGHTS FADE ON JANE AND BRETT. THE SOUND OF RAIN CONTINUES. LIGHTS COME UP ON WILLIAM. HE IS BENT OVER AND RUBBING HIS ANKLE. JAMES ENTERS.

 

JAMES

What are you doing here?

 

WILLIAM

I wanted to talk to you.

 

JAMES

I’ve got nothing to say to you. How did you find out where I lived?

 

WILLIAM

I got the address from the director.

 

JAMES

Well you shouldn’t have come.

 

WILLIAM

You’re probably right.

 

JAMES

What’s wrong with your leg?

 

WILLIAM

I tripped on the gutter. I’m such a clumsy fucker.

 

JAMES

You won’t get any arguments out of me. How’s the play going?

 

WILLIAM

Um, they’re having problems.

 

JAMES

Really?

 

WILLIAM

Yeah.

 

JAMES

How’s the new guy?

 

WILLIAM

That’s the problem. I think they’re gonna replace him.

 

JAMES

Oh.

 

WILLIAM

I just wanted to say you were right.

 

JAMES

About what?

 

WILLIAM

What you said before. About me… being a coward.

 

JAMES

It doesn’t matter anymore.

 

WILLIAM

No. It does. I pushed you away with some pathetic reason and I shouldn’t have.

 

JAMES

I see.

 

WILLIAM

I’m sorry I hurt you or you felt used. If it’s any consolation they all left me.

 

JAMES

Who did?

 

WILLIAM

Those six other boyfriends.

 

JAMES

So you thought heading it off at the pass would be a good thing?

 

WILLIAM

It’s a defence mechanism.

 

JAMES

It doesn’t make any difference.  It’s a stupid way to go through life, don’t you think?

 

WILLIAM

Yeah. But that way there’s no complication.

 

JAMES

No chance of falling in love either.

 

WILLIAM

There is that. So…I’m sorry. Anyway. That’s all I wanted to say. I should go.

 

HE STARTS TO LIMP AWAY.

 

JAMES

You can’t walk.

 

WILLIAM

I’ll manage. I just have to get to the bus stop

 

JAMES

It’s pissing down.

 

WILLIAM

I like the rain.

 

JAMES

You like pneumonia as well?

 

WILLIAM

With a bit of luck I’ll…

 

JAMES

Break a leg?

 

WILLIAM

Good luck.

 

HE AGAIN STARTS TO LIMP OFF

 

JAMES

Hang on.

 

JAMES PUTS WILLIAM’S ARM AROUND HIM TO SUPPORT AS THE LIGHTS FADE ON THEM AND COME UP ON BRETT STILL SITTING ON THE FLOOR SURROUNDED BY SCRAPS OF HIS WRITING. AFTER A LONG PAUSE.

 

BRETT

[WEAKLY] Jane?

 

AFTER A PAUSE THE LIGHTS COME UP ON JANE.

 

JANE

Yes?

 

BRETT

I’m sorry.

 

JANE

This is not your f au lt.

 

BRETT

I know that.

 

JANE

This is not even of your time. I’m not even real.

 

BRETT

You are to me.

 

JANE

I’m but a faint footnote in history.

 

BRETT

That’s not true.

 

JANE

People will forget me.

 

BRETT

They haven’t yet and it’s been 200 years. They won’t.

 

JANE

I just wanted something different for myself.

 

BRETT

We all do. But people will remember you forever. Me, they will forget. You touch people.

 

JANE

I do not think so.

 

BRETT

You touched me. Showed me the way.

 

JANE

I did?

 

BRETT

Of course

 

JANE

I have so much more I wanted to say.

 

BRETT

I know.

 

JANE

I didn’t want to be a writer of such small stories.

 

BRETT

Your stories are anything but small.

 

JANE

I will never fall in love again.

 

BRETT

No.

 

JANE

That doesn’t sit well with me.

 

BRETT

It is that important?

 

JANE

Can you say such a thing? You have written so many things.

 

BRETT

Quantity and what has it gotten me? Small scale.

 

JANE

What does that mean?

 

BRETT

Oh, uh…I guess in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t count.

 

JANE

You make people l au gh. That is a wonderful gift.

 

BRETT

You draw them into another world.

 

JANE

I draw them into my world but it is still only the world I inhabit. They can walk away but for myself, nothing changes. I still live here in the moment. I write for what I wish could be.

 

BRETT

We all do. Better to want something than to want for nothing.

 

JANE

That sounds made up.

 

BRETT

It’s probably been said already by someone a lot cleverer than me.

 

JANE

Nothing new under the sun?

 

BRETT

That’s right. [PAUSE] I sit here with nothing. I write bec au se it’s what I do. But I don’t live it. I pretend to write about a love that never ends. But it’s all fantasy. What happens after the final scene? What happens after The End? I’ll tell you what happens. It dies. All the love. One way or another. The people I write about are nothing but dreamers. They’ll argue, they’ll fight, they will fall in love for what? Just to break each other’s hearts? I want the Darcys and the maybe even the Willoughbys of this world.

 

JANE

I believe I may have made them more exciting than they really were. Every character was based on someone I knew or hoped to know but the basis was, for the best part, very base indeed. I should tell you there was a very liberal dose of wishful thinking in the mixture and a dash of fantasy. Men of my time are not such handsome creatures as I would have my readers believe.

 

BRETT

Let me guess. Body odour and bad teeth?

 

JANE

We are English.

 

BRETT

I thought as much.

 

SOFT PIANO VERSION OF CANON IN D BY PACHALBEL CAN BE HEARD FOR THE REST OF THE PLAY. JANE GETS UP AND GOES OVER TO HIM. SHE STARTS TO GATHER HIS DISCARDED PAGES AND HANDS THEM TO HIM.

 

JANE

You need to be scared about love. But you need to be strong. You need to go on loving and hating and all that you can do bec au se I do believe it is what makes you human. And don’t be afraid to write about sex. Put as much intercourse in it as you can. Without fear. Favour or disposition. [GIVES HIM THE PAGES AND SITS BEHIND HIM] Challenge every notion of propriety and raise your fist to God with all manner of sexual congress.  Bec au se, if there is no passion then there is no feeling and without feeling there is no chance of love.

 

BRETT

And where do I go from here?

 

JANE

You start anew. Write about what excites you. Write what you know. People like what you do, don’t they?

 

BRETT

I guess. Sometimes they say terrible things about me.

 

JANE

Do you care what they say?

 

BRETT

Not really. Sometimes.

 

JANE

We can all be pricked by thorns. But if there is one thing I have learnt it is never to let it show how much others affect you. Words can be a terrible, spiteful and vicious thing but in the end they’re only words. If you want to be touched by words then let them be by those who speak to you with words of love.

 

BRETT

And my story?

JANE

Well, I don’t really know how your world operates but from personal experience I find after throwing c au tion to the wind, the best thing to do is to start with a kiss.

 

THE LIGHTS FADE AS THEY LOOK STAGE CENTRE. LIGHTS COME UP ON WILLIAM AND JAMES. JAMES LEANS IN AND HOLDS UP WILLIAM’S FACE. HE KISSES HIM GENTLY. AFTER A MOMENT WILLIAM EMBRACES HIM AND KISSES HIM BACK

 

LIGHTS FADE OUT SLOWLY

 

 

END