Showing posts with label Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Show all posts

Thursday, July 4, 2013

The Water Willows


Synopsis

Based on well-documented historical facts, The Water Willows breathes life into the brightest lights of London's Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, a reactionary art movement against stuffy Victorian ideals drawing its inspiration from the more earthy medieval lore and aesthetics. Wealthy decorator William Morris, cruelly betrayed and deeply hurt by his painter friend and mentor Gabriel Rossetti, finds meaning in the selfless cause of socialism and the betterment of the working class. Meanwhile Rossetti, once a leader of the movement, slips into paranoia, addiction and death over a single unflattering critique of his poetry, and in doing so losing the love of the woman he worshipped and painted over and over: William Morris' wife, Jane Morris.

The Cast

William Morris – Stocky, burly man with messy clothing stained with paints and dyes. Prone to comical, short bursts of petulant anger, he was quick to settle and laugh at himself. He is often jingling his watch.
Jane Morris – Very tall woman, passive in conversations, and quite silent. Although she speaks very little, she listens and is good-humoured and has a beautiful laughter. She wears plain dark dresses with a lot of fabric, and bead necklaces.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti – A serious fellow, very passionate and intense, smiles rather than laughs. Can be sarcastic at times.
Lizzie Siddal – A depressed drug addict whose mood shifts from manic to drowsy. She dresses in a striped dress. She has long red hair.
Georgie Burne-Jones – Tiny and headstrong, very smart and speaking very sharply and decisively.
Edward Burne-Jones – A simple guy really, extraordinarily talented artist just a good friend to everyone.
Algernon Swinburne – Very theatrical, kinetic and excited. Being very entertaining and witty, he is everyone's darling. A short red-head with a mustache.

Act 2 - Year 1861

JANEY – W. MORRIS – ROSSETTI – LIZZIE SIDDAL (very pregnant) - GEORGIE B-J (pregnant) – NED B-J – SWINBURNE – JENNY MORRIS (newborn).
Everyone is in the living room, drinks and food are being served buffet style. Morris is holding a baby. Rossetti's Dantis Amor can be seen one of three cupboard doors that formed the upper part of a large settle.
http://www.tate.org.uk/art/images/work/N/N03/N03532_10.jpg
http://www.gallery.ca/en/see/collections/artwork.php?mkey=4233

The sweetest flowers in all the world! A baby's hands.
SWINBURNE
The sweetest flowers in all the world! A baby's hands. Wee Jenny Morris, born January, 1861, an auspicious year, to be sure. Aye! I am overcome with the necessity of uttering a speech. It cannot be helped, I shall not entertain pleas of mercy, I am very cruel.
EVERYONE
(laughter)
SWINBURNE
Should you find my time on the stump to be an abomination upon your ears, I shall deem it a triumph, at once!
ROSSETTI
I hate to be a contrarian: but you can only delight us!
SWINBURNE
With all of present company having recently fallen into matrimony, with the exception of one excitable, charismatic red-headed bard, I am thrice reminded that you have inflicted upon me the same sorrow as if I had heard of you lapsing into theism, or worse!
EVERYONE
(laughter)
MORRIS, handing the baby over to Janey, who is laying down on a sofa.
Or worse? What could be worse?
SWINBURNE
Yours truly, Pope Algernon Swinburne the First!
ROSSETTI, looking at Morris
Pope Swinburne! Would that not be an irresistible incentive to become a man of cloth?
MORRIS, to Rossetti
By Jove, I know of no one that would not haste to convert to Catholicism under such flamboyant leadership!
GEORGIE, laughing, to Lizzie
If that came to pass, the underworld would be a merry place indeed...
LIZZIE
...and I would not wait for an invitation to jump into the pit!
SWINBURNE
You incorrigible pagans.
JANE hands a sleeping baby Jenny over to a maid, who takes her away, and she lies down on a loveseat. She picks up some embroidery.
SWINBURNE
Our good friend Webb, to whom we owe much of the delightfully medieval architecture of this beautiful “Red House,” and decoration within, has sent his regrets, but only for our little soirĂ©e tonight – do not concern yourselves, he is in the best of health, and still expected to join us at the extravagant reception we are planning for the Purgatory.
EVERYONE
(laughter)
SWINBURNE
Shall we raise a toast?
EVERYONE
Yes!
ROSSETTI
The honour is yours, Swinburne, you have no equal for toasts.
SWINBURNE
Very well then! I am eager to be at your service. To darling baby Jenny, we wish... the resplendent beauty of her mother, and her father's temper...
EVERYONE
(laughter)
SWINBURNE
Ahem! I meant distemper!
ROSSETTI
Poor child, oh no! Topsy's distemper murals are worse than his temper! May he find the much sought-after improvement with the paintbrush, and prove us all wrong!
MORRIS, laughing
I have wholly given up on this futile endeavour! I do have friends enough to retouch my contorted lepers into fair princesses... but I shall try not to tax their patience again!
ROSSETTI
If we become short on patience, we'll give you green and yellow enough to cover every wall in London in sunflowers, like you did at the Oxford Union Library!
EVERYONE
(laughter)
MORRIS, to everyone, shrugging
Rossetti said I ought to paint... he stated that “if I had any poetry in me at all, I should paint it.” Now as he is a very great man, and speaks with authority and not as the scribes, I had to try... he must bear his share of responsibility for the ensuing fiasco... now I know to hire Ned for all depictions of the human figure!
NED
Forever at your service, good friend!
SWINBURNE
Let's settle the disagreement like the gentlemen that we ought to be. To Topsy's poetic acumen and determination to succeed in all his decorative endeavours we shall raise our glasses!
EVERYONE
(cheers)
SWINBURNE
To dear Lizzie, may she give birth to a red-headed child...
GEORGIE
That dear Swinburne will surely spoil as much as he spoils Lizzie!
EVERYONE
(cheers)
NED
Lucky child!
SWINBURNE
There is a special bond between us carrots that cannot be topped. I make no secret of my deep fondness for Gabriel's new bride, but long-devoted lover Lizzie, so fair, and so accomplished in drawing and painting, why, she must have taught our Gabriel at least half of what he boasts of! And now - to Georgie and Ned, whose inspiring love, like a sacred bower rose, blooms through the stinging winds of winter with the same vigour as through summer's delicate breath, cheers!
EVERYONE
(ah's & cheers)
SWINBURNE
May Gabriel's magnetic and influence continue to empassion us all, and steer us into improving this world with beauty, grace, friendship and love. May the ideals of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood's live forever in the hearts of men.
NED & ROSSETTI
To the Brotherhood!
SWINBURNE, realizing he forgot Janey
Last, but not least, our Janey – a creature of such perfect grace that to kiss her feet is the utmost men should dream of doing. Is it not insane for Topsy to have that wonderful and most perfect stunner of to look at or speak to?
ROSSETTI
Swinburne, I must finish this one!
SWINBURNE
The floor is yours!
ROSSETTI
Ahem! To what will surely become the most celebrated stunner in all of England, for the perfection of her profile, the classicism of her lips, her soft eyes of grey, and the dark torrent of hair bouncing down her graceful neck, Mrs Jane Morris!
EVERYONE (except Lizzie)
(cheers)
JANEY
(nods)
GEORGIE
And to Swinburne of course! Our most lively and cherished companion...
LIZZIE
I would not trade our friendship for a crate full of gold!
NED
Or a ship full of wine!
ROSSETTI
...To one that never stops biting into life!
MORRIS
And who won't stop life from biting into him! Which reminds me, the spread looks complete, whether it is or not I am feeling rather peckish and I heartily recommend that we attack it with forks.
ROSSETTI
Not yet, Top, read us one of your grinds
MORRIS
No, Gabriel, you've heard them all.
ROSSETTI
Maybe Swinburne hasn't heard them yet – and they are devilish good!
SWINBURNE
(nods in the positive)
MORRIS
I will fetch a few since some of you are eager to pretend they have not heard them at least 5 times each! (Leaves to fetch some notes)
EVERYONE
(laughs)
NED
At last! What have you got?
ROSSETTI (takes out a stuffed mouse out of his pocket)
A stuffed mouse – a bookseller of my acquaintance has taken up taxidermy.
NED, taking the mouse
By Jove! Does this thing really have a peg leg?
ROSSETTI, taking it back
It is a prosthetic following a fatal mouse trap accident!
NED
I don't know what that is supposed to help. Do you have a plan for it?
ROSSETTI
I will leave it right here... peering out two slices of bread.
NED (laughs)
Hush! Hush! I hear footsteps.
MORRIS
Are you ready? I am certain you've heard it all before, but I must stop you begging. This is from “The Defence of Guinevere”
The shadow likes like wine within a cup
Of marvellously colour'd gold; yea now...
ROSSETTI
Forgive the intrusion... I must beg you to read like old Swinburne!
MORRIS, exaggerating Swinburne's excited mannerisms, while everyone laughs
The shadow likes like wine within a cup
Of marvellously colour'd gold; yea now
This little wind is rising, look you up,
And wonder how the light is falling so
Within my moving tresses: will you dare,
When you have looked a little on my brow,
To say "this thing is vile?" or will you care
For any plausible lies of cunning woof,
When you can see my face with no lie there
For ever? am I not a gracious proof—
"But in your chamber Launcelot was found"
EVERYONE
(claps)
ROSSETTI
Tops, your mimics are capital, capital! I cannot determine which I love best between the touching transcendence of your words, or your swinburnian delivery! What a lark.
LIZZIE
My heart vouches for the poem!
SWINBURNE
As does mine – am I truly this restrained? I will have to redouble in flamboyance!
NED, starting to draw on a pad
If you succeed, I fear a repeat of the Great London Fire!
ROSSETTI
Tops, you must illuminate us about the meaning of the verses.
MORRIS, clears throat
Guinevere is betrothed to Arthur and accepts him as a convenience more than for love, and once caught in an adulterous situation with Sir Lancelot, she must defend herself against the accusation. I try to reveal love as the principal purveyor of meaning, impulse, and pleasure. It is the on account of the living blood that courses through her veins that Guinevere seeks this love outside the bounds of matrimony. Her accusers are blinded by morality and convention in mericlessly condemning her. However, it is a natural fact that true love is more noble than contrived affection.
LIZZIE
Assuming true love. I've come to realize... if true love is ever given... it is not on this Earth.
GEORGIE
I can't speak of loves true or untrue, but I do believe that it is a very powerful emotion at the root of marriage and the founding of family, which is the basis of all human society, including that of savages.
MORRIS
Georgie offers a sensible opinion, but upon the whole I agree with Swinburne. Yes, I do! A husband and wife in married life must remain free people, artificial bolstering up of natural human relations is what I object to. Further, any choice one makes in the choosing of a wive should be free of the scrutiny of family members. So many spurious contrivances.
ROSSETTI
Wholeheartedly agreed!
NED
Let's not persecute love... love is not especially contrived... all of England is contrived.
LIZZIE discretely wipes a tear
MORRIS
Were it merely contrived, and not woefully shoddy, I might be more of a mind to accept it. This age, this age is the age of shoddy!
ROSSETTI
Shoddy machine-made goods, yes, but I have heard some argue that machines are freeing mankind from degrading, repetitive work. What are your thoughts on that?
MORRIS
It is the allowing machines to be our masters and not our servants that so injures the beauty of life nowadays. Machines can relieve degradations, indeed, but they can just as well compound them, hear? We do make designs that are produced by industrial means, yes, but we are using industry as a tool to disseminate beauty. We'd all want tapestries, but most have to settle for wallpaper.
ROSSETTI
You don't have an eye on making wallpapers, do you?.
MORRIS
Not at all! I have high hopes that tapestry will enjoy a revival, and embroidery, being emblematic of handmade crafts by the ladies, is well on its way to become the primary means of beautifying a home.
LIZZIE is increasingly fidgety in the background, GEORGIE sits next to her and they have an inaudible whispered conversation..
NED
Never say never!
ROSSETTI
I shall say “never” as Topsy's improvised representative.
MORRIS
The man has spoken for me!
SWINBURNE
This is dreadful serious talk for a jolly celebration! Are we to change the world? Once you free your own mind from the shackles, you're all done!
ROSSETTI, to Morris
Leading on to even more serious matters, if only to vex poor Swinburne, Tops, I urge your to pursue your explorations of poetry, for you possess a prodigious gift; should you run out of ink, it would be a great loss for future generations. I have no doubt that your name will honourably mentioned along with Homer, Dante Alighieri and Beaudelaire!
SWINBURNE
Beaudelaire, you say? Topsy, have you been dipping your pen into the well of sin?
MORRIS
Is the sin in question gluttony? Yes? I will not protest then. As it were, I have gone from peckish to famished and we ought to ravage this spread before it spoils!
GEORGIE
You are our host, we are all waiting for you to be first to pluck that table. You start!
MORRIS, grabs a plate and picks some food
You must try these, our cook's savouries are peerless!
MORRIS, noticing the mouse, and grabbing a cover in a drawer
And oh! Oh! Wait... no one move!
GEORGIE
What is it? What is it?
MORRIS
Quiet... I've got this... hush...
LIZZIE
Oh!
MORRIS, slams the cover over the plate, and angrily tosses the contents of the dish out the window, and shouts to the cook, stomping his feet
Annie! Annie! You must come to the parlour at once! This is un-ac-cept-able! I have guests!
EVERYONE (laughs)
MORRIS, looks around suspiciously
I have heard that laughter before... I have seen those impish grins... You... what have you done this time?
ROSSETTI
Ha! We got you again! But you exploded too quickly to notice the peg leg on the stuffed mouse, we're broken-hearted!
MORRIS
That will teach you a lesson to never underestimate me. Annie! Never mind! If I had any misplaced pride at all, you'd have embarrassed me!
GEORGIE
Ned's pen is scratching furiously. I wonder what he is up to!
ROSSETTI
Ned, what are you drawing in your corner?
NED, showing a caricature
See what we have here: Topsy discovers a stuffed mouse!
ROSSETTI
That was jolly quick, Ned, oh, oh, how it captures the moment perfectly! Look, Janey!
JANEY, laughing
Oh yes, I see.
ROSSETTI, taking it to Georgie and Lizzie, and Morris moving to take a peak.
Look! Look! Is that not capital!
GEORGIE & MORRIS (laughter), Lizzie smiles a bit and is drowsy on Georgie's shoulder.
NED, ROSSETTI & SWINBURNE
(get a bit of food from the spread, Swinburne takes some and brings plates to Georgie & Lizzie, Morris gets a plate and brings it to Janey.)
ROSSETTI
This is a sad consequence of being last at the table, I've run out of ladies to feed! Ned, you are a genius, even for something as small and informal as a caricature. I wish I could draw half as good as you in twice the time. You are, doubtless, the greatest painter in all of England. I fear to call you prolific, for there is in your case no forfeit in quality – in fact, the more you draw, the higher your star rises in the heavens. I worship at the altar of the delicate detail you spread over miles of canvas. You are the god of painters, I should sacrifice virgin brushes at your temple.
SWINBURNE
Oh Gabriel, I should laugh to hear you singing these praises about anyone but Ned!
ROSSETTI
Lizzie too has some outstanding drawings... she learned so much from Ruskin I hardly had to teach her anything at all, she is completely original – a natural luminary. We didn't bring any of your drawings with us, did we?
LIZZIE (nods negatively)
We did not.
ROSSETTI
No? But perhaps... Lizzie, do you have a poem you could recite? This whole room is eager to be dazzled.
LIZZIE, fidgeting
I have nothing enthralling.
ROSSETTI
Oh Lizzie, do not put yourself down, you are phenomenal! Believe it!
LIZZIE, rises slowly
Well then, here comes your disappointment.
GEORGIE
We are all dying to hear you! Aren't we?
SWINBURNE
We beg you!
NED
Indeed! We love everything you do.
LIZZIE, reciting from shaky memory
You are all very kind. I do not have anything on paper; all I have are the last two verses engraved to memory. The title is: Worn Out.
I can but give a failing heart
And weary eyes of pain,
A faded mouth that cannot smile
And may not laugh again.
Yet keep thine arms around me, love,
Until I fall to sleep;
Then leave me, saying no goodbye
Lest I might wake, and weep.

Then leave me, saying no goodbye
Lest I might wake, and weep.

EVERYONE
(claps)
NED
Very sad and very lovely, Lizzie. Beautifully done. I am touched.
GEORGIE
From such a pure and holy soul!
LIZZE (sits down next to Georgie and leans on her)
GEORGIE
Dear, do you have a fever?
LIZZIE
Oh no, not a fever, only a little nausea... and pain in my bones. Gabriel, in my bag...
ROSSETTI (urgently fetches her bag)
Here.
LIZZIE
My laudanum...
ROSSETTI digs in the bag.
LIZZIE
...quickly... I cannot endure another moment of waiting...
ROSSETTI puts the vial of laudanum to her lips, Lizzie drinks some. Everyone looks deathly worried. Lizzie looks less fidgety, she calms down, and falls asleep on Georgie's shoulder.


Act 3 - Year 1871

JANEY – W. MORRIS – ROSSETTI – SWINBURNE - BUTLER
Jane is sitting for Rossetti's “Water Willow” at Kelmscott Manor, 1871. There are sandwiches on a table.
ROSSETTI
Mmmm... I'm on the last of that chromium green – I've got about a pea's worth, just enough to lighten a few of the water willow leaves. Perhaps Ned will be willing to lend me some of what he has... poor Ned draws and draws but shuns exhibiting lately. Poor Ned.
JANEY
Yes. Poor Ned.
ROSSETTI
I hope he will yield to my persuasion and present his work to an appreciative public once more.
JANEY
Let us hope.
ROSSETTI
The outcries about decency that led his magnificent Phyllis and Demophoön to be withdrawn from the exhibition, were an absolute travesty. Are these critics writing these ignorant missives from the Asylum for Idiots? If so, I shall be tempted to make a liberal donation to the institution, on behalf of artists, so that the inmates are more closely guarded.
JANEY
I don't believe I have seen this work of his.
ROSSETTI
Allow me to describe it with words... think soft grey-green neutrals, cool skin tones, and we have Demophoön who is not covered at all anywhere, except a thin flowing strip of pine green fabric mid-thigh, standing... like this, or, more like this, I believe (Rossetti mimics painting). On his right, so the left of the composition, we have Phyllis, who is herself quite modestly covered with that same green fabric. Can you stand for a moment?
JANEY
I could...
ROSSETTI
Here, let me help you.
JANEY
Thank you.
ROSSETTI
Now here, think of me as Demophoön – you can stand behind me, and above me (you are naturally taller, no adjustment necessary)... now place your arms around me this way... turn your head towards mine, your chin on my shoulder, and your forehead against mine.
JANEY
Like this?
ROSSETTI
Jane, Jane... I love to feel the warmth of your breath on my neck... don't move... see this image in your mind, painted with the delicacy we know Ned to be capable of... with a bow of delicate white blooms arching above them... an almond tree according to the myth.
JANEY
Is there a story?
ROSSETTI
If I recall... Phyllis was a Greek queen who had fallen in love with Demophoön, who left her...
JANEY
Not unlike our Ned and his Maria.
ROSSETTI
You are very perceptive as usual. Unlike Maria, Phyllis made good on her threats. Demophoön looks both bewildered and not quite as pleased with the embrace as you might expect him to be.
JANEY
Ah-ha. On the matter of perception, I understand how Ned's composition might be construed as quite forthright advances, coming from the female. From our live reconstruction I believe his maleness itself would be quite within her field of vision. Perhaps the critics alluded to that.
ROSSETTI
Dear Janey, the critics are sending Ned a form of coded message. They cannot outright say: “we condemn and chastise a painter because of his personal indiscretions.” They would never own up to it. Instead, they grossly misinterpret this paintings and make it as if the painting itself was some sinister iconoclast of public decency.
JANEY
Your imagination is too vivid, as usual!
ROSSETTI
Oh, not at all. They recognized that Marie Zambaco sat for the depiction of Phyllis, and that of Demophoön. Both the male and the female have Marie's unmistakable Grecian lines. They know what the painting meant for Ned.

Ned leaving Georgie and the children to spend time with his Greek damsel did cause quite a public scandal.

JANEY
Ned leaving Georgie and the children to spend time with his Greek damsel did cause quite a public scandal.
ROSSETTI
I frankly do not see what Ned sees in her; I found her rather rude and disagreeable when she sat for me, the very opposite of you.
JANEY
I have heard she is headstrong.
ROSSETTI
Poor Georgie, she toils so diligently for the children's well-being...
JANEY
Yes, poor Georgie,
ROSSETTI
To think our Ned came so near to being spirited away to some Greek island in in arms of his Greek mistress... I can scarcely think of anything more alluring for Ned than to live in a country whose culture he has idolized since boyhood.
JANEY
What do you think stopped him?
ROSSETTI
Who knows? He might have thought the better when she showed up on Kensington High Street...
JANEY
...directly in front of Browning's house no less!
ROSSETTI
And with enough laudanum to carry out a lover's suicide pact! She did threaten to drown herself into the Thames after Ned declined her poisonous offer. I was a fool to think this sort of thing only happened in penny dreadfuls!
JANEY
This was very real.
ROSSETTI
With all of London was looking on the spectacle, including the metropolitan police – and Ned tackling her and rolling on the parapet to prevent her jumping... Ah! Time does have a gift to turn tragedy into comedy, does it not?
JANEY
Ned was reasonable in the end.
ROSSETTI
And to this day, I am told, is he burdened by regrets. He will take these regrets all to way to his grave – as unpleasant and shrill as his Greek damsel was.
JANEY
My husband was to keep Ned company throughout his escape from London.
ROSSETTI
Good friends, these two.
JANEY
They started for Rome, got no further than Dover... Ned became ill and they returned secretly...
ROSSETTI
Indeed, what a farce! We had the Greek damsel beating up the quarters of all his friends in search of him and bent on cutting, howling like Cassandra, while poor Georgie stoically making as if he were indeed in Rome while he was ill in the upstairs bedroom.
JANEY
Poor thing.
ROSSETTI
She was quite heroic about it all.
JANEY
What happened to Maria since?
ROSSETTI
There are rumours that she plans to return to her husband in Paris, while writing to that Parisian sculptor Rodin for an apprenticeship in his studio so that she can violently throw herself at the man.
Rossetti returns to his painting
ROSSETTI
This canvas will not get painted unless I hold a brush to it! Willows, willows... a colourless and oft-overlooked element of nature – one that is invariably growing on the water's edge. This is what you are to me, Janey. You are the water, the noblest and dearest thing that the world had to show me – I am the but the drab willow with the unquenchable thirst for you.
JANEY
Does the willow not signify sorrow?
ROSSETTI
Yes, the sorrow too, that steady, relentless sorrow that we cannot be together. I hope you will like the painting, if not for the skill, for the meaning of it.
JANEY
Of course I will cherish it.
ROSSETTI
Janey, Janey, you must know, everything I do is to prevent sinking into utter unworthiness of you and deserve your contempt.
JANEY
You need not worry about ever deserving any contempt from me, Gabriel.
ROSSETTI
Janey, I too have regrets. I have forsaken you, my own true love, out of a mistaken sense of loyalty – and for this sacrifice I will pay for the remainder of my living years. For this mistake, I now covet another man's wife; a man who is a very dear friend of mine. One who has every right press his burly lips against yours, or against every nook and cranny of your body that I cherish and idolize. It is a vile torment, a torture that inflicts agony on my mind.
JANEY
You know there is no sense in being jealous.
ROSSETTI
How I wish I were imbued with your sweet nature. But in fact, I have no claim to your company, or even to lay sights on your soulful eyes... I rely upon the whim of another man, I may never spend a moment alone with you – banished, forever in the chilling numbness that surrounds me, in utter want of you.
JANEY
This won't happen.
ROSSETTI
When he calls upon his return from Iceland, he surely will pry you away from me to avoid appearance of impropriety. It cannot be helped; the more Topsy loves you, the more he knows that you are too lovely and noble not to be loved: and, dear Janey, there are too few things that seem worth expressing as life goes on, for one friend to deny another the poor expression of what is most at his heart. But, he is before me in granting this and there is no need for me to say it.
JANEY
He has been most accommodating. Gabriel, do not vex yourself. I trust you will find your way to reason. He did consent to lease Kelmscott Manor with you.
JANEY
We can carry out as we always have.
ROSSETTI
Should I worry and about your health in my letters, take it to mean that I yearn for you, and ache for your company from the deepest recesses of my soul.
JANEY
Should I respond that I am unwell, you will understand that I miss you just the same; if I claim to feel better, I may have an opportunity to see you in the following days.
There is a knock at the door.
ROSSETTI
Sit still, my love.
Algernon Swinburne is at the door, holding some papers. The butler shows up too late to answer the door.
ROSSETTI
Swinburne! How delighted I am to see your handsome face.
SWINBURNE
I apologize for not giving you prior notice of my visit, but I had to come at once.
ROSSETTI
My door is always open for you. Come in! Jane is here – she is sitting for a painting.
SWINBURNE
Will you grant me the privilege of a peak?
ROSSETTI, showing the painting
It's quite subdued isn't it?
SWINBURNE
Not the stunner at the center! Subdued? Dear friend, you have crafted the paint into skin capable of soft heat and the flush of a growing flower – all its nerves desire the divine touch of your brush. Jane, I presume you intensely pleased with the portrait.
JANEY
Mr Rossetti's talent artfully improves on the model.
ROSSETTI
Not a single of my paintings does her justice. Not a one. If only I could paint her once and for all, and show the world how she really is. I continue to disappoint myself, and only see flashes of what I ought to have done. I will have to try again. I am of a mind to paint Mrs. Morris as the goddess Proserpine,
SWINBURNE
This may not be the best time to bring up this review.
ROSSETTI
Review?
SWINBURNE
Review indeed, and quite scandalous, from one Thomas Maitland. He lumped dear old Morris and the both of us into a “fleshly school of poetry, ” penning no fewer than seventeen pages on you! Fleshly? What is this “fleshly?” Why, my dear Rossetti, he is positively obsessed with you, no amount of ink is too dear for the man to lay on paper for you.
ROSSETTI
Oh, what does he say about Topsy?
SWINBURNE
Merely a few cursory comments - He transformed his pen into a poisoned dart and aimed for you, mostly.
ROSSETTI
You have my attention.
SWINBURNE
Are my sonnets not as “fleshly” as yours? I will take great pains to fix this deficiency; the exploit of writing Brittania's most objectionable and offensive prose must be mine. I shall provide critics bleeding flesh, burning flesh, flogging flesh, pulsating flesh, whipped flesh... in such super-abundance that no one but me shall ever be flattered with the “fleshly” epithet!
ROSSETTI
Ah, Swinburne, a wordsmith such as you, confusing “censure” with “praise?”
SWINBURNE
If it weren't for the tone of condemnation, all his censure could be sold for praise. Let me propose the notion that is taking pleasure in provoking us. Perhaps he is merely trying to exact revenge on Ellis, who is publishing our books, and who sued him for non-payment of debts a few years prior. I believe this quite possible. This could also be retribution for your coming to my defence from his petulant onslaughts. Two birds with one stone!
ROSSETTI
Who is this Maitland that I have never heard of?
SWINBURNE
I did not tell you? I have it on good authority that none other than Robert Buchanan is hiding behind this “Maitland” pen name – but I cannot yet be certain.
ROSSETTI
Show me!
SWINBURNE
I have underlined the most succulent parts for you.
ROSSETTI
This is an outrage! What is this stealthy school of criticism? This imaginary character “Maitland” is accusing me of plagiarizing... Buchanan – also known as himself!
SWINBURNE
He is accusing you of copying him... while finding your poetry highly offensive! Is this not some grotesque form of intellectual self-flagellation?
I thought you'd be amused
ROSSETTI
Some of what he says is true. I “draw ill.” I “cannot tell a pleasant story like Mr. Morris” nor can I “forge alliterative thunderbolts like Mr. Swinburne.” Now I spy a compliment or two: I'm not “glibly imitative as the one, nor so transcendently superficial as the other.”
SWINBURNE (mocking)
A dagger in my heart.
ROSSETTI
I should always be slighted in such company as dear Topsy, and yourself.
SWINBURNE
I didn't know you held Topsy in such high regard.
ROSSETTI
I was perhaps being facetious – though not with regards to you.
SWINBURNE
Please continue.
ROSSETTI
“One might tolerate the language of lust more readily on the lips of a lover addressing a mistress than on the lips of a husband virtually wheeling his nuptial couch out into the public streets.”
SWINBURNE, grabbing the papers“...the man who is too sensitive to exhibit his pictures, and so modest that it takes him years to make up his mind to publish his poems, parades his private sensations before a coarse public, and is gratified by their idiotic applause.”
ROSSETTI
Scathing, scathing.
SWINBURNE
You haven't heard the worse from this coward:
“A suspicion is awakened that the writer is laughing at us.” And, further, “Females who bite, scratch, scream, bubble, munch, sweat, writhe, twist, wriggle, foam, and in a general way slaver over their lovers, must surely possess some extraordinary qualities to counteract their otherwise most offensive mode of conducting themselves.” Gabriel, upon my word, I will not allow this travesty to remain unanswered.
ROSSETTI
I have heard enough. I am no longer amused. Let me answer this gutless jelly and set him on fire.
SWINBURNE
Oh, Gabriel, I cannot conceive of anything more amusing than the outlandish vexations of a man discovering a talent greater than his own, and attempting to dissect it while concealed behind a name not his own. A gentleman is bound not to take notice of an anonymous insult. Are we cranes or mice, that we should give battle to the frogs or the pigmies? However in this instance the originator of the insult is but a poorly kept secret. I shall endeavour to reward him with a great deal of ridicule for this corrupt opus and I promise to have great fun in so doing – I shall whip him in the open on the courses. My friend, you will find both relish and satisfaction upon reading my planned rebuttal. All you have to do is rest, while I do all the talking.
ROSSETTI
Ha, dear old Swinburne. I am blessed to count you as a friend. Your zest of the fray is legendary.
SWINBURNE
How do you like his nearly anonymous critic's vomit described as “the drivelling desperation of fangless duncery?”
ROSSETTI
Brilliant!
SWINBURNE
Or himself described as a “dirty and dwarfish creature of simian intellect and facetious idiocy?”
ROSSETTI
Ah! Better still!
SWINBURNE
Shall we use superlatives, then? “The most horny-eyed and beetle-headed of pedants!”
ROSSETTI
A pedantic skunk!
SWINBURNE
Indeed! “At each fresh emanation of his malodorous soul it becomes more clearly impossible for man to approach him even with stopped nostril and glove-guarded hand!”
ROSSETTI
Ah, Swinburne – you have no equal.
ROSSETTI
He has earned every word of rebuke. It is a scientific fact that the virtuous journalist's condemnation of the poets' addiction to “the worship of Priapus” is meant to conceal their own devotion to the garden god... hypocrites!
Knocking is heard at the door
ROSSETTI
I am not expecting anyone!
Rossetti opens the door
ROSSETTI
Topsy! What a fantastic coincidence brings you here unexpectedly at the same hour that Swinburne has graced us with a surprise visit! This is a blessed day indeed. Mrs Morris is sitting for a painting presently, you must be burning to see her – she is a little unwell, I must warn.
MORRIS
Janey! I – I am – You are – I have not seen you in so long, it is a delight as always.
JANEY
Thank you.
MORRIS
You look well.
JANEY
(shrugs)
SWINBURNE
Topsy you are as stout and as vigorous as ever!
MORRIS
I apologize my lack of announcement. I had meant to call earlier, but some unknown force paralysed me until now, when I decided that I must do this at once and take the risk that you not be home. I am most delighted that you happened to be here at that very moment, dear friend.
SWINBURNE
We were carrying on a most amusing conversation about “Maitland's” most recent critique of our combined poetic talents.
MORRIS
Oh yes, I have heard. That Buchanan, isn't it?I found myself lacking the patience to read the entire his tiresome quarrel. I will say this, my friends. Who remembers any critic at any time in history – unless they are exceptionally obtuse or laughable? Buchanan might simply be to exerting himself to earning a place of honour in some pantheon of lunacy. No, with the wisdom of time, true art rises and augments, while its critics decay and disappear. Even this monkey Buchanan has the right to moan about our poetry; I will be first to acknowledge that my own writing may not be to every man's liking.
ROSSETTI
I refuse to hear this, Tops, anyone not enchanted with your “Earthly Paradise” must have had their organ of literary appreciation violently ripped out by vicious tigers!
MORRIS
You are too kind. Free as he may be to express his abhorrence of anyone's verses, I am just as free to ignore him and carry on as I bloody well please.
SWINBURNE
Am I free to destroy him with the might of my pen?
MORRIS
You have been a friend for long enough; any attempt to dissuade you from this enterprise would be utterly futile.
SWINBURNE
Topsy, I wish I had your temperance in these matters.
ROSSETTI
Swinburne, not one in this present company is sufficiently deluded to believe this fiction.
SWINBURNE
Then I shall immediately confess to a prodigious thrill from my very want of temperance.
MORRIS
I was convinced well before your confession!
SWINBURNE
Why, I am much aroused by Buchanan's slight. Well, look at the time, and I have yet to hear an offer of whiskey proffered by my negligent host! I must set out to make it home before dark. I shall see myself out.
ROSSETTI (opens a liquor cabinet)
Swinburne, you fiend. No guest of mine sees himself out, let this fine bottle of single malt walk you to the door with me in tow.
SWINBURNE, bowing
Upon my word, I shall use every precious drop to fuel my rebuke of Buchanan. I vow to wipe off the froth of falsehood from the foaming lips of his inebriated virtue - fresh from the sexless orgies of morality.
ROSSETTI
(sighs)
SWINBURNE
Oh dear, I hope that bruised expression of your is a feint! Upon my word, if any poet or other literary creature could really be killed off by one comically pitiable critique, the sooner he was so despatched the better! Well, on this cheerful note - I shall be on my way – I look forward to your visits and your invitations, dear friend. Oh – I leave you with these famous Northumbrian words of wisdom: “a smarting butt makes a boy smart!”
ROSSETTI
I shall not keep that in mind at all!
Rossetti closes the door.
ROSSETTI
Words cannot express how glad we are to see you return safely from your voyage to Iceland.
MORRIS
Nor they can express the relief I feel that the horrors that my exile has, no doubt, saved me from witnessing.
ROSSETTI
You must have fantastical stories that we'd love to hear.
MORRIS
Doubtlessly, nothing as fantastical as your stories, that I wish not to hear. Nothing more than what you'd expect from me. I scrambled, I bumbled, I fumbled. As usual, ingeniously inept. In this pot, throw in my slapdash translation of a great Norse saga, and some poems. I tried to pass some of the time recalling those pretty farewells that might have been customary at the time of my departure from England, and remembered none. In conclusion, Iceland is a place where there is scant solace to be found outside of those sagas that are quite devoid of hopefulness. Did that make you morose? Ah, it is foolish to ask a question that I can answer myself.
ROSSETTI
You did not find pleasure in your travels?
MORRIS
The climate made this rather difficult – but I suppose it is no worse than London... in the summer. A foreigner like myself must enquire for hospitality to the Icelandic people directly, for they have no inns. Doctors judges and ministers were imposed upon, for they often speak the English language. Doctors too busy, judges too self-important, and ministers were all too glad to hope for a donation to the parish.
ROSSETTI
You must have met interesting people.
MORRIS
Ah, I befriended saddlers and presidents, and generally preferred the company of the former. I found the Icelandic people is quite united in poverty and in the fight to survive. One cannot conquer the ice and brimstone alone. In this cooperation, they are richer than we are; the most grinding poverty is a trifling evil compared with the inequality of classes
Morris looks at the unfinished painting
MORRIS
Willows... how interesting. Iceland had much in the way of dwarf willows, fed yet stunted by the clear, ice-cold rivers from the summer melt of the glaciers. Bright streams rushing over dull, grey, round pebbles, lazily reaching the sea on a bed of dark grey sand. Glacial water, poor and cold; supports very little growth indeed. Very unlike the willows here at home.
ROSSETTI
Tops, would you be deprived much of my company, if I made a turn in the garden?
MORRIS
I'd be much obliged.
Rossetti leaves the room.
JANEY
I am glad to see you well and invigorated by your voyage.
MORRIS
(coughs)
JANEY
Have you been in good health?
MORRIS, tasting a sandwich, and not liking it
What is that bitter taste? Oh yes. And you?
JANEY
Somewhat better than I have been.
MORRIS
Are the girls here? I would dearly like to see the girls.
JANEY, while Morris tosses the sandwiches out the window
They are spending the month at the Howard's. We expected you to return earlier, and it could no longer be postponed – I had hoped that they would greet you and cheer you up. Rosalind assures me that they are enjoying themselves.
MORRIS
When are they to return?
JANEY
In no more than a week.
MORRIS
How is our Jenny?
JANEY
A brilliant student, much like her papa.
MORRIS
Oh, no, she takes from you. And May?
JANEY
Undisciplined as always, but she is such a happy thing, I cannot bring myself to ever scold her.
MORRIS
Janey...
JANEY
Yes?
MORRIS
How is your health? Ah, oh, I mean, Janey, how do you... do we intend to continue dealing with this matter of ours? Has it... played itself out?
JANEY
(does not answer)
MORRIS
So beautiful and kind are your eyes, but most times looking out afar, waiting for something, not for me.
JANEY
I recall those verses.
MORRIS
Are they still true?
JANEY
I never intended to inflict pain upon you, for you are a good and honest man.
MORRIS
I take it I must satisfy myself with this answer. I, I wrote something. Will you hear it?
JANEY
Yes.
MORRIS (takes out folded paper from his pocket, and reads)
She wavered, stopped and turned. I thought her eyes,
The deep grey windows of her heart, were wet,
I thought they softened with a new regret
To note in mine unspoken miseries,
And even as a bitter word did rise
Up from my heart struggling with shame's strong net,
Sweet seemed the word she spake, while it might be
As wordless music—But truth fell on me,
And kiss and word I knew – a wall of stone
Before me made me bitterly alone
While at my back there beat a boundless sea
.
That is all, that is all.
Morris wipes off tears, Rossetti returns
ROSSETTI
Nothing out there but decrepit foliage and seed heads. I suppose Mother Nature gives up the good fight when it senses autumn is on its way.
MORRIS
I'll see myself off, no need to accompany me.
Rossetti stays put, Morris reaches the door on his own.
MORRIS
Your expressions of gratitude need not be so eloquent. Goodbye, Janey, I'll see you at home at Queen Square, should you be struck by some unexpected fancy to keep a broken man company.
Morris closes the door himself.
ROSSETTI
Please relieve me of anxiety. Was my strategic absence too short perhaps? What conspired?
JANEY
Your timing was fine. You had nothing to worry about.
Rossetti approaches Janey
JANEY
My back is too sore at the moment, please, just lay your head on my knee.
Rossetti weeps quietly, while Janey places a hand on his head.
JANEY
Oh dear, you are crestfallen. Nothing has changed. He is gone.
ROSSETTI
Never mind Topsy; I will rebut this posturing, craven monkey.
JANEY
Still, that Buchanan? Nothing he has written should cause you pain.
ROSSETTI
How could it not? He is torturing me over Lizzie, over you. Poor Lizzie; she never recovered from the sorrow of our stillborn child. There she was, laying lifeless on our bed, eyes looking upwards, an empty phial of laudanum by her side... we never can speak of these things in society, but she took her own life, Janey.
JANEY
She did. Do not put the blame on yourself.
ROSSETTI
But it is my fault. I wed her, but I wpre a cloak concealing for my you.
JANEY
She was so frail and sickly...
ROSSETTI
Her lights were dimming, even the laudanum gave her no respite, I could not abandon her without killing her... yet I killed her just the same, Janey. I was the cause of her misery.
ROSSETTI, getting up
Janey, Janey, I envision a great canvas, with you as Proserpine, in blues and greens. I see it. Your face, in the softest light. It will be the pinnacle of my achievement, a consecration of your essence, everything I see in you, on canvass. Can it be done? Will you sit for me?
JANEY
I don't know, Gabriel. (Silence) Why Proserpine?
ROSSETTI
Proserpine, abducted by Pluto, the god of the underworld... carried to his domain of death and darkness, and forced to marry the beast. That Proserpine.
JANEY
Remind me about the pomegranate.
ROSSETTI
She pleaded for mercy, he gave her one pomegranate, one, the fruit of the dead, and admonished her to not eat a single seed until she reached the world of light. Poor Proserpine was starved in her long voyage, and ate just four seeds; yet she was condemned to spent 4 months of the year in Hades on account of her transgression. Is that not the story of our love?
JANEY
You are embellishing as usual.
ROSSETTI
Janey – There is no embellishment. I have never entertained deeper feelings towards any other creature my entire life.
JANEY
My dear, time must have faded your memory of earlier passions.
ROSSETTI
You have never believed me.
JANEY
Maybe the time has come that I should believe you. Yes, I will allow myself to believe a liar. When all is said and done, and the lid is closed on my coffin, having believed a liar will have made my life something extraordinary.
ROSSETTI
No, Janey, hand on my heart, I have never lied to you. When the lid is closed on my coffin, you must know, my last thought will have been of you.
JANEY
I believe you, I do.
ROSSETTI
I have never lied to you. Places that are empty of you are bereft of all life. Everything is dark for me when you are away – from the very moment when we part, and I see you walk down the stairs, it is such a lonely thing... You have Top and the girls... I have nothing but the wait for your letters.
JANEY
Gabriel, Gabriel...I have to be kind to him, he's always been kind to me.
ROSSETTI
But, Janey...
JANEY
I have never loved him. You know I have never loved him.
Curtain