The James Plays E-Book

Rona Munro

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Serie: NHB Modern Plays
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 335

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

Rona Munro's vividly imagined historical cycle brings to life three generations of Stewart kings who ruled Scotland in the tumultuous fifteenth century. James I: The Key Will Keep the Lock explores the complex character of the colourful Stewart King – poet, lover and law-maker. Captured at the age of 13 and crowned King of Scots in an English prison, James I of Scotland is delivered home 18 years later with a ransom on his head and a new English bride. The nation he returns to is poor: the royal coffers empty and his nobles ready to tear him apart at the first sign of weakness. Determined to bring the rule of law to a land riven by warring factions, James faces terrible choices if he is to save himself, his Queen and the crown. James II: Day of the Innocentsdepicts a violent royal playground from the perspective of the child King and his contemporaries, in a terrifying arena of sharp teeth and long knives. James II becomes the prize in a vicious game between Scotland's most powerful families. Crowned when only six, abandoned by his mother and separated from his sisters, the child King is little more than a puppet. There is only one friend he can trust: William, the future Earl of Douglas. As James approaches adulthood in an ever more threatening world, he must fight to keep his tenuous grip on the crown while the nightmares of his childhood rise up once more. James III: The True Mirror, like the King himself, is colourful and unpredictable, turning its attention to the women at the heart of the royal court. Charismatic, cultured, and obsessed with grandiose schemes that his nation can ill afford, James III is by turns loved and loathed. Scotland thunders dangerously close to civil war, but its future may be decided by James' resourceful and resilient wife, Queen Margaret of Denmark. Her love and clear vision can save a fragile monarchy and rescue a struggling people. Each play stands alone as a unique vision of a country tussling with its past and future; viewed together the cycle creates an intricate and compelling narrative on Scottish culture and nationhood, full of playful wit and boisterous theatricality. The James Plays premiered at the Festival Theatre, Edinburgh, in August 2014 as part of the Edinburgh International Festival, before transferring to the National Theatre, London. The original three-play cycle was named Best New Play at the Evening Standard Theatre Awards 2014.

Leseprobe

Rona Munro

THE JAMES PLAYS

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Introduction by Rona Munro

Acknowledgements

Original Production Details

James I: The Key Will Keep the Lock

James II: Day of the Innocents

James III: The True Mirror

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

Introduction

Rona Munro

The process of writing these plays has been long (though not as long as you might suppose) and, at the time of writing this introduction, it’s ongoing. I am currently in rehearsal with the most extraordinary company of actors in the longest, most challenging, most terrifying and most exhilarating rehearsal process I have ever experienced.

I’ve long had the ambition to write on this scale. However, having the ambition is one thing. You also need the ability and the opportunity. It’s an unfortunate fact that very few contemporary playwrights get the writing commissions that allow them to develop the ability to write on a large scale, still fewer get the opportunities thereafter.

If you enjoy these plays at all you should understand that I owe a debt to a series of theatre companies and other organisations who support and develop new writing for the stage and who have allowed me to grow to the point where I felt able to go for the big dream.

These plays are set within a period of Scottish history which is virtually unknown. I feel a certain responsibility, therefore, to alert you to the fact that some small liberties have been taken with known events in order to serve our stories.

Certain characters represent amalgamations of many characters or stand for political forces within Scotland. Certain events have had their timelines altered to maximise the drama.

However, as far as narrative imperatives allow, I’ve followed history and used primary sources.

We cannot know the character and thoughts of these dead kings and queens and long-gone Scots. We can speculate a whole series of possibilities from the few hard facts we can rely on, the slim historical evidence of their actions. However, I feel robustly certain that whatever their thoughts and feelings might have been, human nature is exactly the same now as it was then. Only culture and circumstances have changed.

I’ve translated and used words from the fifteenth century within the plays, so you’ll read songs with lyrics taken from The Kingis Quair, the love poem written by James I himself. There are versions of work by the wonderful poet Robert Henryson and of anonymous authors whose words have still come down to us.

If any ghosts are offended by my appropriation and free interpretation of their work, I hope they’ll still appreciate the wider publicity.

In the delightful possibility that you are reading these plays with the view to giving them further production, here are some guidelines and warnings. All stage directions are suggestions only, you can take enormous liberties with those and emerge unscathed.

Lines are very definitely not, tweak at your peril, you’ll find you’re pulling on a thread that could unravel all your plans.

Various solutions were found to represent some large moments and staging problems which are quite baldly stated in the text.

The rhythm and language of the dialogue is contemporary Scots. Apart from Joan and Henry V in The Key Will Keep the Lock and Margaret in The True Mirror, all characters are speaking Scots.

Acknowledgements

A work on this scale requires a list of itemised gratitude that would run to another three volumes. However, there are some thank-yous which simply have to be immortalised in print.

For not only encouraging the original idea but taking the reckless step of commissioning all three plays at once, a huge thank-you to Vicky Featherstone.

For endless patience, quiet wisdom and encouragement and nurturing of all kinds, George Aza-Selinger.

For many things but chiefly for the solid help that actually kept me afloat at the moment of greatest need, Caroline Newall.

For providing the best writing environment I have ever had, huge thanks to Julian Forrester and all the staff at Cove Park, these plays could not have been completed in this timescale without that refuge.

To Linda McLean and John Ferris for providing me with another calm refuge at times of personal and professional need, as well as the best support friends could ever offer an overwrought writer.

To Dr Michael Brown and Dr Christine McGladdery for their tolerance of every liberty I’ve taken with ‘their’ kings and all their help and support.

To the most amazing company of actors I could ever have imagined, they shaped this text, you did the impossible, guys, and you did it with style – Cameron Barnes, Daniel Cahill, Ali Craig, Blythe Duff, Nick Elliott, Peter Forbes, Andrew Fraser Sofie Gråbøl, Sarah Higgins, Stephanie Hyam, Gordon Kennedy, Alasdair Macrae, David Mara, Beth Marshall, James McArdle, Rona Morison, Andrew Rothney, Mark Rowley, Jamie Sives and Fiona Wood.

A massive thank-you also goes to the actors who contributed to three development workshops, one for each play. Emun Elliott, Lex Shrapnel, Billy Riddoch, Phil Cairns, Lorraine McIntosh, Karen Fishwick, Jessica Clark, Rodney Matthew, Keith McPherson, Liam Brennan, Deirdre Davis, Ruth Milne, James Rottger, Joanne McGuinness, Joe McFadden, Sam Heughan, Stuart Martin and Emma Hamilton.

Everyone in the huge list of creatives, stage management, administrators, publicity, casting and support of all kinds who brought their talent and more to the monumental task of these plays’ first production.

And a thank-you too large to ever be adequately expressed anywhere, in any way, to Laurie Sansom. This was insane and it was impossible. Thank you for embracing the insanity. Thank you for making it work.

R.M.

The James Plays comprising James I: The Key Will Keep the Lock, James II: Day of the Innocents, and James III: The True Mirror were revived at the Festival Theatre Edinburgh on 6 February 2016, prior to a UK and international tour.

The James Plays is a co-production between the National Theatre of Scotland, Edinburgh International Festival and the National Theatre of Great Britain.

DirectorLaurie SansomSet and Costume DesignerJon BausorLighting DesignerPhilip GladwellMovement DirectorNeil BettlesOriginal Sound DesignerChristopher Shutt(James I & II)Sound Designers for 2016 revival of James IIChristopher Shutt & Nick SagarSound Designer (James III)Nick SagarComposer (James I & II)Paul Leonard-MorganComposer (James III)Will GregoryFight DirectorsRuth Cooper-BrownRachel Bown-Williams of RC Annie LtdAssociate DirectorLuke KernaghanAssociate Set and Costume DesignerJean ChanAssociate Lighting DesignerRob CaseySound AssociateNick Sagar(James I & James II)Sound AssociateKevin MurrayMusical DirectorAlasdair MacraeAssistant DirectorCaitlin SkinnerCasting DirectorLaura Donnelly

‘Robin’ composed by Will Gregory and Alasdair Macrae

Pre-show arrangements, additional arranging and hammered dulcimer by Alasdair Macrae

Additional piping arrangements by Cameron Barnes

Additional voice work by Ros Steen

JAMES I

JAMES II

JAMES III

Rosemary Boyle

Joan, anEnglish noblewoman, later wife to James I

Joan, mother to James IIMary, wife to James II

Ensemble

Daniel Cahill

Alisdair Stewart

Earl of Douglas

Jamie, eldest son of James and Margaret

Ali Craig

Big James Stewart

Ensemble/Hume

John, Head of the Privy Council

Malin Crépin

Margaret, Queen of Scots

Blythe Duff

Isabella Stewart, Regent Consort

Isabella Stewart

Annabella, the King’s aunt

Nicholas Elliott

Ensemble

John Stewart, a Scottish lord

Ensemble

Peter Forbes

Balvenie, of the Douglas family

Balvenie, of the Douglas family

Andrew Fraser

Ensemble

Davey Douglas, the Earl’syounger brother

Ramsay, the King’s personal servant

Dani Heron

Ensemble

Annabella, the King’s sister

Phemy, a lady of the court

Brian James O’Sullivan

Ensemble

Ensemble

Tam, a member of the household/ Musician

Sian Mannifield

Ensemble

Ensemble

Ensemble

David Mara

Ensemble

Crichton, Earl and Keeper of Edinburgh Castle

Ensemble/Musician

Steven Miller

James I

Ensemble

Sandy, the King’syounger brother

Calum Morrison

Ensemble/Musician

Ensemble/Musician

Ensemble/Musician

Matthew Pidgeon

Henry V, King of England

James III

Sally Reid

Meg, a lady of the Scottish court

Meg, a lady of the Scottish court

Ensemble

Andrew Rothney

Walter Stewart

James II

Cochrane, a lord of the court

John Stahl

Murdac Stewart, Regent of Scotland

Livingston, Earl and Keeper of Stirling Castle

Andrew Still

Ensemble

William Douglas, Balvenie’s son

Ross, middle son of James III and Margaret

Fiona Wood

Ensemble

Ensemble

Daisy, a laundress

The James Plays were premiered on 10 August 2014 as part of the Edinburgh International Festival, at the Festival Theatre Edinburgh, in a co-production between the National Theatre of Scotland, the Edinburgh International Festival and the National Theatre of Great Britain. The production opened in the Olivier auditorium of the National Theatre, London, on 25 September 2014. The original ensemble was as follows:

Cameron Barnes, Daniel Cahill, Ali Craig, Blythe Duff, Nicholas Elliott, Peter Forbes, Andrew Fraser, Sofie Gråbøl, Sarah Higgins, Stephanie Hyam, Gordon Kennedy, Alasdair Macrae, David Mara, Beth Marshall, James McArdle, Rona Morison, Andrew Rothney, Mark Rowley, Jamie Sives, Fiona Wood

JAMES I

THE KEY WILL KEEP THE LOCK

Characters

JAMES I, King of Scots

JOAN, an English noblewoman, seventeen to twenty years old

MEG, a lady of the Scottish court, nineteen to twenty-two years old

MURDAC STEWART, Regent of Scotland

WALTER STEWART, a soldier and mercenary, twenty-three to twenty-six years old

ALISDAIR STEWART, a soldier and mercenary, twenty-two to twenty-five years old

BIG JAMES STEWART, a soldier and mercenary, twenty-one to twenty-four years old

ISABELLA STEWART, Regent Consort

BALVENIE, a member of the Douglas family

HENRY V, King of England, thirty-six years old

And SERVANTS, a SCRIBE, a BISHOP, LORDS and LADIES of the Scottish court, MUSICIANS, GUARDS, etc.

ACT ONE

Song.

L’homme armé doibt on douter.

On a fait partout crier

Que chascun se viengne armer

D’un haubregon de fer

L’homme armé doibt on douter.

[Fear the armed men,

They’re shouting everywhere,

Get your armour on,

Fear the armed men.]

The Edge of a Battlefield Beside a Castle

WALTER, ALISDAIR, BALVENIE and BIG JAMES are Scottish prisoners of war. They are being herded into the courtyard where an execution is being prepared. Their English captors are taunting them.

GUARD ONE. Bloody Scots!

GUARD TWO. Fucking French!

GUARD ONE. See what you’re going to get!

GUARD TWO. See what’s coming to you!

GUARD ONE grabs BALVENIE, shaking him, showing him the execution platform.

GUARD ONE. Think you’ll hear your neck snap? Do you?

BALVENIE. Oh, Mary Mother of God…

GUARD TWO. I’ll cut your throat if you like, make it quicker for you.

GUARD ONE. Fuck that, let the French-loving bastard choke.

WALTER. Christ this one’s in a right mood, Alisdair.

ALISDAIR. They’re all a wee bit tetchy, Walter.

WALTER. What’s that about do you think, Big James?

BIG JAMES. They lost.

GUARD ONE. Oh, you think? You think we lost, do you? You murdering bastard! You’re losing more than me today, you wait.

WALTER. How many English dead?

ALISDAIR (pointing out over the battlefield). They’ve barely got half the bodies buried. Smell them? Ripe English dead. Three quarters of their fucking army.

WALTER. And the rest of them ran away.

BIG JAMES. We could beat you even when we’re tied up… wanna try?

GUARD ONE. You want a fight? Is that what you want?

The GUARDS lay into ALISDAIR, WALTER, BIG JAMES and BALVENIE, who defend themselves as well as they can with bound hands. ALISDAIR, WALTER and BIG JAMES are trying to hit back, BALVENIE is shielding himself, trying to get away. All of them are shouting at once.

BALVENIE. I’m no with them! No! No! Listen! Leave me! I’m no with these bastards!

GUARD ONE. Our King Henry is going to cut your tiny cocks off and make you eat them!

BIG JAMES. You lost! You lost! You’re fucking losers ’cause we gubbed you!

GUARD TWO. Hold still, stay still, you fucking murdering prick!

WALTER. Aye, tie us up and have the fight then, eh? Only way you’ll ever fucking win!

ALISDAIR. Allez! Allez! Allez les Écossaises!

HENRY V, JAMES and other GUARDS enter over this.

GUARD THREE. Order! Quiet! Order for His Majesty Henry the Fifth, King of England! Lord of Ireland! Regent and heir of France!

WALTER. In your fucking dreams, Henry boy!

GUARD ONE knocks WALTER down and starts beating him again. BIG JAMES and ALISDAIR struggle to get to him as GUARD TWO holds them back, all of them yelling again.

HENRY pitches over this.

HENRY. Oy! Oy!!! Stop that! Leave him! No killing! No fucking killing!

GUARD ONE stops.

No killing yet. Not yet.

Well. Here you all are, the gallant foe, eh? My defeated enemies.

WALTER. Aye, you’re the one defeated the day!

BIG JAMES. Three hundred to you. Three thousand to us.

They shout together.

WALTER/BIG JAMES. Loser! Loser! Loser!

HENRY. Alright. Kill someone now.

The GUARDS descend on BALVENIE who starts to scream.

BALVENIE. No! No! Your Majesty! I never said a word! Please!

BIG JAMES. Oh! No fair!

WALTER. Let him go!

HENRY. You really want him to live!?

ALISDAIR. Come on, King Henry, play fair…

HENRY. Then fucking shut up when I’m talking to you!!

Silence. The GUARDS back off BALVENIE.

So. I suppose you think you’re getting ransomed, do you? All this…

He indicates the scaffold.

That’s just for show, is it? ‘After all,’ you’ll be thinking, ‘wasn’t a great day for King Henry, was it? Lot of English prisoners over with the French and Scottish Army. He’ll be wanting to do a prisoner exchange, won’t he? Common sense.’ Yeah. Common sense.

Not really in the mood for common sense. Sorry, boys. Not really in a good mood at all. Funny, that.

Do you know who this is?

He indicates JAMES.

All the Scotsmen down there. You recognise him surely?

The Scots shout suggestions.

(To JAMES.) Tell them who you are, James.

JAMES looks at him but says nothing.

Well, go on.

JAMES still says nothing.

He’s usually so chatty, I don’t know what’s got into him.

This is your King, boys. This is King James of Scotland.

ALISDAIR (to WALTER and BIG JAMES). Is it?

WALTER. I don’t know.

BALVENIE. Yes, it’s him. It’s James.

HENRY. You were all out there, fighting against me fighting for the French. Your King, your very own King, is standing here, with me, with the English. What does that make you? That makes you traitors. You’re not prisoners of war, you’re traitors against your King. Your lives are forfeit.

BALVENIE. Oh, Mary Mother of God.

BALVENIE drops to his knees.

WALTER. Get up, old man. Come on.

BALVENIE. You do what you like. I’m praying for my life.

HENRY. And who’d pay your ransom anyway?

ALISDAIR calls to him.

ALISDAIR. Our father’s good for it!

WALTER. Murdac Stewart.

ALISDAIR. Regent of Scotland.

BIG JAMES. Ruler of Scotland.

HENRY. Murdac Stewart? He doesn’t pay ransoms. Since when did he start paying ransoms?

(Indicating JAMES.) We’ve had this man, his nephew, his King a prisoner for eighteen years. I grew up watching this boy moulder in the dungeons of my castles. Murdac Stewart never paid the King of Scotland’s ransom. Why’s that?

BIG JAMES. Maybe we’re not needing him back.

ALISDAIR. Will you stop cheeking the man! We’re in negotiations here. Thing is, King Henry, you’ve priced him too expensive.

HENRY. Look, James, these are your cousins, isn’t that nice? A family reunion. I’m filling up here. Though I have to tell you, I don’t see a lot of family loyalty down there. I do not, I think they’re traitors. What do you think?

WALTER. He’s your prisoner King, he’s no my King.

BALVENIE. Boys, do you want to just think before you speak just… listen to what you’re saying.

HENRY (to JAMES). Are you listening to what they’re saying? Did you hear them? Treason. They’re traitors. What do you do with traitors? Show them you’re a king. Go on.

BALVENIE. Oh Christ.

ALISDAIR. Your Majesty… I can see we need to put some figures on the table here. Will you let us name a price…

BALVENIE. Mary Mother of God.

WALTER (to BALVENIE). Will you stop that!

BIG JAMES. He’s no my fucking King!

HENRY turns to the GUARDS.

HENRY. Make him kneel!

The GUARDS wrestle BIG JAMES to the ground. All their weapons are out, ready to kill. Again everyone’s talking at once, cutting over each other.

ALISDAIR. Come on, King Henry, we were talking. Can’t we talk here?

WALTER. No, no, no, no, you bastard. Leave him, you leave him, you leave my brother alone.

ALISDAIR. It’s alright, big man, it’s alright. He won’t do it. Steady.

HENRY pitches over them all.

HENRY. On King James’s command, boys, wait for the King of Scotland to speak.

Quiet as HENRY talks just to JAMES. BIG JAMES is held, ready for execution.

(To JAMES.) Show them what the King of Scotland does to traitors.

Those are your cousins down there, right? Your own flesh and blood. They took your throne, they took your youth and left you rotting in my father’s prison for eighteen years while they stole your kingdom…

Show them you’re a king.

BIG JAMES. Fucking do it!

JAMES. No.

He faces HENRY.

(Quiet.) Not playing this game, Henry. Stop it. Stop it now.

HENRY is abruptly enraged.

HENRY. It’s not a fucking game, you stupid…!

I’m trying to teach you how to be a king, you ignorant little prick! We’re running out of time here! When are you going to learn!? Jesus!

HENRY doubles over, coughing. Looks at what he’s coughed up.

Jesus Christ…

JAMES sees it, startled.

JAMES. Is that blood?… Henry, are you sick?

HENRY. Yes. Yes, I’m sick of you, James. Sick and tired.

Right. Let’s try that again.

These are your subjects. These are the most unruly of your subjects.

Why don’t you show me how you plan to rule them. Demonstrate your kingship.

Just do it your way, James.

The Stewart boys are still held as if an execution might happen any moment.

JAMES hesitates. Then he faces the prisoners.

JAMES. You are prisoners of war. The laws of engagement and the rules of chivalry protect you. You will be ransomed or you will give service to His Majesty King Henry.

HENRY. That’s it?

JAMES. Yes.

HENRY. They don’t want you. They don’t want you on the throne of Scotland. You’re the king nobody wants. Tell them what they’re missing, James, tell them what a brilliant king you’d be. Dazzle them. Let them see your regal power, your strength, they need to see your strength, James.

Talk to them again.

JAMES. This isn’t the time or the place for that.

HENRY. No. No. This was the time to fucking show them.

(To the prisoners.) You don’t want your King back, boys? No, no I don’t blame you. What kind of king can’t order an execution?

What kind of king is brought up in a prison reading books and writing poetry? What good will that do Scotland when I come to burn you down? What would you do, James? Stand at the border and shout a few verses at me to send me home? It might just work too, this stuff’s diabolical. Want to hear some of this, boys?

HENRY has taken some paper out and is waving it. JAMES recognises his poem.

JAMES. What are you…?

Where did you get that!?

Give me that!?

JAMES launches himself at HENRY, trying to get the poem back. HENRY throws it down and suddenly they are wrestling. The prisoners are cheering and egging them on. Their lines overlap, ragged and spontaneous.

BIG JAMES. Go on, wee James!

WALTER. Pas de chance! I’m putting five hundred on King Henry.

ALISDAIR. No takers. C’est le roi anglais!… It’s King Henry! BIG

JAMES. Aw come on, wee man! Make a fight of it! He’s beating you!

JAMES has an initial advantage but HENRY quickly overpowers and pins him.

WALTER. You canny win a battle but you got him beat, Henry!

ALISDAIR (shushing him). Shush shush, dinny start him off again.

JAMES is still down, HENRY gets up, breathless coughing.

HENRY. Laws of engagement? Rules of chivalry? Bollocks to it. If you can promise me a ransom of five hundred I’ll let you live. Anything less than that you can hang here while your King reads you verses.

(To GUARDS.) Get them out of here.

BALVENIE. My family is probably only going to offer about four hundred, Your Majesty, but it’s a guaranteed four hundred. We’re talking secure delivery of funds. I promise you! I promise you’d get the money in your hand, King Henry!!

HENRY. Five hundred or they hang!

The GUARDS are pulling the prisoners away.

BALVENIE. Boys! Come on! Help me here! The Earl of Douglas will thank you!

ALISDAIR. If he wants you, why won’t he pay for you? Not even your own uncle cares if you hang.

BALVENIE. I’ll pay you back.

WALTER. When?

HENRY. Get on with it, will you!

BALVENIE. It’s… it’s a cash-flow issue… I have the money in Scotland.

HENRY. Is he paying me or not!?

BALVENIE. Christ, are you helping them hang Scotsmen today? Is that what you’re doing?!

The GUARDS are pulling him off.

BIG JAMES. Alright. Alright. (To HENRY.) He’s with us. I’ll pay his extra.

The GUARDS let BALVENIE go.

BALVENIE. Thank you. Thank you.

You’ll have my service.

I’ll give you service, my lords. I promise. I promise you.

WALTER. And what will we ever want from you, wee Douglas?

BIG JAMES. He’s my wee Douglas now.

HENRY. Get them out of here!

WALTER. We’ll see you soon though, eh? King Henry? See you soon?

The three brothers start to sing.

Song.

L’homme armé doibt on douter.

On a fait partout crier

Que chascun se viengne armer

D’un haubregon de fer

L’homme armé doibt on douter.

L’homme armé doibt on douter.

WALTER, ALISDAIR, BIG JAMES and BALVENIE are led off. The Stewart boys still singing.

JAMES is recovering.

HENRY has another coughing fit. Again he looks at what he’s coughed up.

HENRY. Bloody Scots. Every time you turn around there’s another one in your beard.

I’m not in the best of health today, James.

I would have thought… I would have imagined, you might have beaten me today.

But you’ve never beaten me. And you never will.

JAMES. Do you know why you lost the battle today?

HENRY. Do you?

JAMES. Yes. The enemy already knew all your battle positions, where you’d put the archers… where the horses were…

HENRY. What do you mean they already knew? Who told them?

JAMES. The ditch diggers. The farmers.

HENRY. Why?

JAMES. Because you rode down their ditches.

Do you know how long it takes to build a field-drainage system?

HENRY. No. Is it relevant?

JAMES. Days. Days and days. You have to excavate the ground. You have to line the base of your ditch with loose stone, not too big, not too small, you have to angle the sides so the wet earth can’t collapse…

HENRY (cutting him off). Why the fuck did the farmers talk to the enemy?

JAMES. Their enemy is the man who rides down their ditches. Your knights did that.

HENRY. You saw this!?

JAMES. You saw it.

HENRY. When!?

JAMES. Yesterday. When we rode out to study the ground? There was that man, the farmer who shouted up at you… showing you what your men had done… your knights had made a playground of the farmland, practising war… the ditches are ruined… all the fields are flooded… the whole crop spoiled… everyone here will starve this winter, King Henry… and then…

HENRY. Which farmer?

JAMES. The one you stabbed in the throat for shouting at you.

HENRY. I’ve no memory of that.

JAMES. Well, you did it.

HENRY. Go on.

JAMES. Your men struck down his wife…

HENRY. This is starting to ring a bell.

JAMES.…his sons were running away screaming curses at you… you had the archers fire…

HENRY. God yeah, I remember, useless fuckers missed, didn’t they?

JAMES. And I said… ‘Well, if I was them I’d go straight to the enemy now.’

HENRY. I didn’t hear that.

JAMES. No. I don’t think you were paying proper attention, Henry.

HENRY. You’re probably right. That’s probably what happened. Shouldn’t have let them run. Wasn’t fast enough cutting them down. Useless fucking archers.

JAMES. There’s a law against trampling a man’s crops, Henry. A law with your name on it. If you were the kind of king who cared about the law and the ditch diggers maybe…

HENRY has a knife at JAMES’s throat.

HENRY. I hold two kingdoms! Two! And you’re my fucking prisoner, King James of Scotland! Aren’t you?

(Shaking him.) Can’t hear you?

JAMES (quiet). Yes.

HENRY lets him go.

HENRY. Yes you are. And always will be. My vassal King.

(Studies JAMES.) What’s going on in there now? Are you dreaming of stabbing me or have you stopped thinking at all? No telling is there. Never is.

(To GUARDS.) After we’re done here send out a battalion to round up the farmers. All of them. Cut their throats. Burn their crops.

JAMES. Then what will you eat, Henry?

HENRY. Shut up.

You don’t need to worry about that, little King James. You won’t be here.

(Re: the poem.) James is ready for love. He’s pouring out romantic verses to unknown beauties.

Gives poem back to JAMES.

Actually some of it’s quite touching. I was genuinely moved. Time to get serious now though. You’re going back to England for your wedding.

JAMES. My wedding?

HENRY. Yes. Congratulations. You’re marrying my cousin Joan. Have you met her?

(As JAMES says nothing.) No. Well, don’t worry. I think you’ll get on.

Jesus, I wish I could be there to see your face.

You’ll need an English bride when we send you back to Scotland.

(Public announcement.) King James of Scotland, I charge you this day to return to your kingdom and command every man there to cease their warring in France. I further charge you to gather up the full price of your ransom as a prisoner of England and pay that gold to the English crown. In token of your agreement, kneel to me now.

JAMES is just taking this in.

Kneel.

Still nothing.

Fucking kneel, James.

JAMES. Are you really doing this?

HENRY. Yes. I’m really doing this.

JAMES. No.

HENRY. What?

JAMES. This will not work. This can’t work.

HENRY. No, it’s a useless plan but it’s the best we’ve got. We have to get the Scots out of France and we have to get more gold in the treasury somehow.

It could have worked, James, it could have worked if you had anything in you but dry ink and vinegar.

JAMES. Fuck you. I’m not going back to Scotland till we’ve got a proper plan, a strategy… I had a plan, you arse! We’ve been in negotiations for years! You just fucked every hour of that, didn’t you!? How do you think I can rule the Scots when the story of your little display here gets back to them? I’m not doing it. I won’t go.

HENRY. There’s no time for plans, I’m dying, James.

(Shows him the blood on his hand.) It’s black. Look. I am coughing up black blood. We all know what that means. We’ve seen it. First you cough, then your bowels go, then your reason, then there’s just pain.

Two days from now I won’t be able to sit up. A week from now I’ll be dead.

JAMES. Good!

HENRY. No, you don’t mean that. You’ll be sorry you said that when I’m gone.

(Calling to GUARDS.) Assemble King James’s escort.

(To JAMES.) You will swear allegiance to my son.

My son. Little Prince Henry. Heir to the thrones of England and France. He’s still chewing his own fingers and burping milk but he is most definitely your future King, James.

You’ll send him the gold Scotland owes and you’ll bring no war against him, ever. Now kneel.

JAMES. Are you dying?

HENRY. I just lost a battle, didn’t I? Bit of a giveaway when you think about it.

And now we all know. You can’t even win a fight with a dying man. So shut up and do exactly what I say or I’ll fucking haunt you.

JAMES. Why didn’t you tell me!?

HENRY. I tried. I don’t think you were paying proper attention, James.

GUARD. Your escort stands ready, James Stewart.

HENRY. It’s time. There’s no more time. And everything has come to ruin. Just do what I told you. You’re right. They’ve seen the truth now.

Their King hasn’t got the strength of a blind kitten. Keep reminding them that you’re ours, you are England. The fear of my ghost might keep them off you for a while.

JAMES. I know how to be a king.

HENRY. Yes, you’ve had eighteen years to study that, haven’t you? You can fake it for a while if you put your mind to it. If you remember the education I gave you here today.

HENRY staggers.

Oh Christ, the fire’s in my gut. It’s burning me already.

JAMES tries to support him.

Get off me. I can stand. They can’t see me fall. Not yet.

JAMES starts to exit.

Will you light a candle for me?

JAMES. Yes.

HENRY. Thank you. What are you waiting for?… Fuck off.

HENRY collapses.

GUARDS run and carry him off.

A Castle in England, the Hall

A SCRIBE is tailing JOAN, writing furiously. A SERVANT hovers, poised to take her orders.

JOAN is seventeen years old.

JOAN (rapid, urgent). Two pigs, two bullocks, a dozen hens.

One beast roasted, the others in parts…

Five pounds of salt for what we don’t eat.

A hundred loaves. Oat flour and wheat. Harder to chew but the flour won’t last till February if we use all the wheat now.

(Instructing the SERVANT.) So we use the honey and we use ALL the butter. ALL of it.

SERVANT ONE. Yes, my lady, but…

JOAN. Oh! And… and… I was down the home farm last night and if they don’t shift those cattle onto the far field by the river there won’t be any butter at all, so get down there, tell the cattleman to get them onto green grass and tell him I know why he’s not taking orders on it and tell him I do know his job better than he does and if he doubts it I can come down there with a three-foot cudgel and make my argument with that!

SERVANT ONE. Yes, my lady, but…

JOAN. Why are you still standing here! Go!

The SERVANT runs off as JOAN turns straight onto the SCRIBE, looking at what he’s written.

How’re we doing?

SCRIBE. I’m just… recording my lady’s last…

JOAN (cutting him off. Peering at the page). You haven’t written it all down. Don’t pretend you’ve written it all down, I can see, I can read, the last thing you wrote down was ‘salt’, we’re way past salt. Don’t make me say it again, don’t make me repeat myself.

The SCRIBE is nodding, trying to placate her, scribbling frantically.

Tell me you can write faster than that.

SCRIBE. It’s just a question of clarity… forming the letters so that…

JOAN. What do you want to do, illuminate the margins?! I don’t have time for this!

(Reading as he scribbles.) ‘Bread’, wonderful, you’ve caught up… Are we done on food? Can we leave the food? What comes after food?

Wine. Wine. I know baby King Henry won’t want any but his retinue will definitely pack it away. Have to buy it. No way round it.

Another SERVANT enters.

SERVANT TWO. My lady, someone is here from…

JOAN cuts him off with new instructions.

JOAN. Right, take the second-best plate, cut it into coins, get yourself down to the port and get anything you can find. How close are they? That’s what we need to know because if we’ve to send all the way to Dover for wine…

The SERVANTS cross running in and out, JOAN is straight on the one returning.

Have we seen any outriders yet?

SERVANT ONE. Yes, my lady, they’re just…

JOAN. Oh God save me, they’re nearly here!

It’s alright, it’s alright, we’ll get the present first. They’re bound to be sending someone ahead with a present. Please God let it be a minstrel. We’ve no one with a voice since Blind Eric choked on an apple. I might have to sing if they don’t send a minstrel…

SERVANT ONE. It’s…

JOAN (cutting over her, pushing her off). Get someone out on the roads and get them to grab anyone with a lute sticking out their pack. I’m not fussy at this point, as long as he can croak a madrigal.

The SERVANT runs off as MEG enters and stands, waiting quietly.

(To SCRIBE.) Where are we? Food, wine, music…

JOAN sees MEG and stops.

MEG. Everyone was busy so I just came in.

JOAN. Who are you?

MEG. I’m your present.

JOAN. What?

MEG. I’m your present. From the King.

JOAN. I see.

Are you a musician?

MEG (laughing). Oh, save us no! I can’t keep tune better than a puddock.

JOAN. I see.

So… what can you do?

MEG. Anything you want me to, Lady Joan.

JOAN. What are my options?

MEG. I can milk a cow.

I can make a room smell sweet.

I can sew. Obviously.

JOAN. Anything more… interesting? I mean no offence but if you’re a present…

MEG. Oh, I’m here to teach you Scots. Everything about the Scots. About Scotland. What we eat, how we talk, how we dance…

JOAN. And I need to know this because…?

MEG. Because you’re marrying the King of Scots, of course!

JOAN. Oh!

Oh, I see.

They want me to marry the King of Scotland?

MEG. They’re bringing King James here. To betroth you.

JOAN looks at the SCRIBE.

JOAN. Did you know about this?

SCRIBE. No, my lady. No.

JOAN. Well… it’s time I was married, of course.

The SCRIBE is bowing.

SCRIBE. God’s blessing on you, my lady, you will be…

JOAN (cutting over him as she realises). Oh, for… that means two Kings are coming… two Kings!

(Pushing the SCRIBE out.) Get down home farm and count the chickens, we’re going to need more chickens, and a load more onions for the sauce because that’s the only way we’ll stretch any sauce far enough…

(As the SCRIBE hurries off.) Broilers, mind! Just count broilers! I’m not roasting them any layers no matter how royal they are. Make a list…

Put it on the list!

She’s alone with MEG. She considers her for a moment.

I’m getting married.

I’m getting married?

Scotland’s a long way to go to get married though. A long way.

What’s he like? Is he kind? Is he fat? How’s his breath?

MEG. He loves you already.

JOAN. Oh, he has to say that.

MEG. Does he?

JOAN. Oh yes. That’s the polite way to court royalty. He’ll have been writing love poems.

MEG. He has!

JOAN. Well, he’ll have had them written. What they do is they put your name in when they know who they’re marrying? They just write the name in.

MEG. No, he actually writes himself.

JOAN. Really?

Odd.

I hope he’ll like the look of me.

MEG. Why wouldn’t he?

JOAN. Yes, why wouldn’t he? I’m pretty enough.

Oh, Mother of God! Mother of God, I’ll be a queen!

MEG. Queen Joan of Scotland.

JOAN. Oh, you’ll make me laugh! Really?

MEG. You’re going to be Scottish. You’re going to be more Scottish than me.

JOAN. No.

Queen Joan of Scotland.

MEG. Could you love him though?

Love makes you like bread soaking up their gravy. It makes you everything they are.

She looks round, admiring.

This is a lovely place. I’d never been away from home till they sent for me to be a present. I like moving around. You can feel your mind rolling out like spreading ribbons as your road unravels behind you.

I’m to take you home but I’ve barely got here, have I?

I like it here.

I’m to stay in your service until the end of my days or until you get weary of me. But you won’t. We’ll have a great time together. I’ve been in a great mood ever since I saw the sea and ate a fig. Have you ever eaten a fig? Of course you have. I thought they were just something out of the Bible but you can bite them and suck through all those little sweet seeds. So soft. Like biting into a wee bird that wants you to eat it.

So I’m thinking you’ll maybe not like it in Scotland. Maybe you’ll be wanting to visit France. I wouldn’t mind that. I’ll follow you to France no bother. I’m told the French have meat in sauces and soft wines that taste like the food and drink in paradise.

We eat stones in Scotland.

JOAN. You do not!

MEG. It’s the truth. Our earth is so poor we have to suck the stones out of the fields instead of growing corn. We make a sauce of mud.

We’ve nothing sweet to eat at all. Do you like apples?

JOAN. Yes of course.

MEG. Well, there’s no orchards in Scotland.

JOAN. No orchards?

MEG. We only dream of apples. You might get a lick of one at Christmas but it’ll have a worm in it.

They won’t have a crown for you, I’m telling you, we’re poorer than beetles in a rotten log. They’ll just have to give you a rather nice hat.

It’ll be second-hand.

The Queen of France will let you have it out of pity. We’d be better going to stay with her.

JOAN. Are you trying to talk me out of this marriage?

MEG (sighs). No. You’re right. We can’t go to France.

Truth is you can’t get out of this marriage. You’ve been promised.

JOAN. I could refuse.

MEG (reaching out to JOAN’s dress). Is that real silk?

JOAN. Yes.

MEG. Oh. Beautiful.

Your lady-in-waiting has one just like it, eh?

JOAN. You’re saying no one in Scotland has the sense to make jam? Nothing sweet?

MEG. Alright, so we’ve lovely rowan trees. I can make a nice jelly out of rowan berries. And there’s no much honey but it is good honey.

JOAN. Is it?

MEG. The best.

JOAN. Better than honey here?

MEG. Och, you’re eating honey here all the time. You don’t know what sweet is, your mouths are so full of sweetness you just think it’s the taste of the air itself.

JOAN. What’s the best thing?

MEG. The best thing about home?

Thinks about it.

You can understand folk better. What they say.

JOAN. But will I?

MEG. You make me out well enough, don’t you? And the skies are bigger.

JOAN. How?

MEG. There’s more light in them and you can see higher up into them. And the fish is fresher.

JOAN. I hate fish.

MEG. That’s because you eat five-week-old herrings with salt. Our fish tastes like sweet white bread and clear water.

And the dancing’s better.

JOAN. How?

MEG. More… (Searches for the right words.) Nobody sits down when the music gets going, you dance the soles off your shoes. Oh, I miss the dancing…

Maybe I do want to go home.

I do want to go home.

Will you go, lady? Will you say yes?

JOAN.…I’ll understand the people…

MEG. You’ll know what they mean.

JOAN.…There will be rowan trees and tall skies and fresh silver fish and dancing…

MEG. And King James will love you like you’re the Queen of Heaven itself, all the days of your life.

JOAN. So we can sit in the two towers of our castle, the sun in the sky between us…

MEG. Ah now, I can’t promise you sun. Not every day. There’s usually some nice weather about September, when you’ve given up on there ever being any sun again ever… and that’s nice for ripening the brambles and they’re delicious.

JOAN. And he’ll wave from his tower, and I’ll wave from mine… and sometimes, in the evenings, we’ll meet under the moon in the courtyard below…

MEG. If the wind’s no in the east…

JOAN. And dance all night.

MEG. That’s definitely possible.

JOAN. And eat rowan jelly.

MEG. And bramble jam.

I do love a bit of bramble jam.

JOAN considers again.

So will you do it? Will you marry him?

JOAN. I’m getting old. I’m seventeen already… but I might have a better marriage.

MEG. I don’t know. I heard them talking about convents.

JOAN. And that would kill me.

MEG. It’s not where I want to end my days. Not what I was hoping for when they put me in your service, my lady.

JOAN. Shall I marry him then?

MEG. I can live without figs. I can’t get by without drinking and dancing, not when death comes so soon.

JOAN. Then I’ll do it.

MEG. Aw, then you’ll be my Queen, my lady, all the days I’m alive.

JOAN. Oh, this will be good! When will I meet him?

JAMES enters, he stops dead, staring at JOAN as she turns to face him, transfixed.

Southwark Cathedral

A CHOIR enters, singing. JAMES and JOAN are still facing each other as SERVANTS dress them in lavish wedding clothes. They process up to the altar. JAMES puts the ring on JOAN