Austen Allegro

I have decided to post some excerpts from a play I wrote recently, entitled Austen Allegro. As the name suggests, it's a parody inspired by the work of, among others, Jane Austen. If you love/ hate/ think this is an outrage/ want to see more of it, please leave a message!

So here's the first five minutes of the script: (Please forgive the formatting - it pasted like this). The 'Jane Austen' character is just called 'Jane' in the script. Her name has been changed to Jane Austen here so that the text is keyword-rich for 'Jane Austen'.

harpsicord music fades. lights up. Jane, lizzie, amie, lady frisby-smythe and mrs pottinger share tea in the drawing room.

jane austen: Oh my dear dear Amie, I shall indeed burst if you do not finish your most fascinating account.
lizzie: Truly, I did not believe any man capable of an act of such unfettered abandon. I was of a mind to clutch my bonnet with both hands lest my hair stand aloft. But prey continue, my dear companion.
amie: And then it happened. Just as I sit by you now, he looked up and glanced at my reflection in the mirror.
jane austen: My dear dear Amie, how did you remain intact?
lizzie: I swear Jane, I might surely have fainted.
amie: I was obliged most urgently to bow my head and retain whatever modesty was yet remaining to me.
mrs pottinger: To be gazed upon by surely the most pecunious and thus eligible bachelor in Bath is not, I think, a trivial or desultory happening.
lady f-S: I do believe we will be seeing much more of Mr McDaresay. He is visiting his cousin here for some considerable months.
jane austen: Who, pray, is his cousin?
lady F-S: Mr Eastly. Effingate Mansion belongs to Mr McDaresay. Mr Eastly merely leases it from him.
lizzie: Mr Eastly, dear Mr Eastly. A man so pure and beautiful.
mrs pottinger: Indeed, my dear. And a man not disinclined to reflect affectionately upon your countenance, unless I be much mistaken.
amie: I would venture that the very ground which she walks upon does meet with his every desire for worship.
jane austen: Is he not calling this very afternoon?
mrs pottinger: Quite so, my dear.
lady f-s: Is he? Oh my. He is indeed a gentleman that cannot fail to steal a young lady’s heart. I have personal experience of it.
Mortan, the butler, enters.
mortan: A gentleman by the name of Mr Eastly is here to see you, Ma’m. He is accompanied by his, ah, companion, Mr McDaresay.
mrs pottinger: Show them in, my dear servant.
eastly and mcdaresay enter, butler departs.
mr eastly: Ladies, I am as ever enchanted. May I present my cousin, Mr McDaresay. Naturally, I would sincerely wish to apologise in advance of his opening his mouth.
amie: Delighted to meet you, Mr McDaresay.
mr Mcdaresay: Fuckin’ nice to meet all of you, eh?
mr eastly: I am most humbly sorry. It is with some regret that I am obliged to inform you that he is from that northern country characterised in all its simplicity by myriad midges banqueting heartily on disgustingly primitive savages such as he. On meeting my cousin, one quickly comprehends why Hadrian needed so hastily to build a wall.
amie: But surely there is room to embrace those such as he in Bath Society? We are not here chaste by London’s conservatism.
mr eastly: Bath, I fear, although undoubtedly a vessel not devoid of liberalism, cannot contain an entity such as my cousin ever prone, as he is, to excess.
mr mcdaresay: (to Amie) I saw you the other night. Some fuckin’ cleavage in that dress, eh?
lizzie: I say, he is quite jolly isn’t he?
amie: Will you be here in Bath long, Mr McDaresay?
mr mcdaresay: I’m buying some more houses and a bit o’ land. I already own half o’ fuckin’ Bath, and I thought I might as well own the rest, eh?
jane austen: Forgive me, Sir, but from where does your wealth originate? I must confess to having never heard of your family.
mr mcdaresay: I discovered there was copper under my allotment, eh? Everyone needs copper. Made a bucket-load.
amie: Sir, your intercourse is to Bath Society refreshingly uncomplex.
mr mcdaresay: Ya ken ma wee sweetheart, then?
mrs pottinger: Am I to presume that we are entertaining an ineligible bachelor? Who, pray, is the object of your fancy, Sir?
mr mcdaresay: Lady Frisby-Smythe, d’ya no ken?
mrs pottinger: (to Lady F-S) You?
lady f-s: I should venture to explain. I do only desire your enlightenment, as at present, you are as darkness, devoid of light.
mr mcdaresay: Gotta love the crap, eh? Go on.
lady F-s: It is not unknown to you that the continuity and integrity of my castle was severely compromised by the fire that claimed the mortal life of my late and dearly beloved.
mr mcdaresay: She cannae afford a new roof, eh?
lady f-s: There is indeed lofty wisdom there stated. We are to be betrothed.
mrs pottinger: I must at this juncture express my dismay that a good and true companion such as I was not acquainted of this conflagration hitherto.
lady f-s: Of polite society, you are the first to be thus informed.
mr mcdaresay: That’s right, eh? I’ve told a’ my mates. They think it’s barry me marrying a posh wifey wi’ a big castle.
amie: I too must express dismay. This is horribly and surprisingly unexpected.
mr mcdaresay: Aye, ye thought you were in there, eh? (to Eastly) Who’s the one you’re after then?
mr eastly: I fail to understand to what you refer.
mr mcdaresay: You couldnae stop talking about her in the carriage. Lizzie, was it no?
mr eastly: Sir, you are not a gentleman. I find her good name insulted. I demand satisfaction.
lizzie: Yes, I will, I will marry you Finchley.
mr mcdaresay: Hold on, lassie. First things first. He’s challenged me to a dual.
lizzie: Dear Finchley, do you think that is wise?
mr mcdaresay: ‘Course it’s no. You’d better marry him quick. I’ve been ‘round the block a few times, I can handle a musket.
mr eastly: Outside, Man.
eastly and mcdaresay exit. The women gather at the window.
lady f-s: I fear Mr Eastly has put himself in mortal danger.
lizzie: I am to blame for this conceit.
jane austen: Your flirtations of too many yesterdays will surely deliver a stark and final conclusion today.
amie: So will he die much loved. Hark, there they walk on yonder meadow.
mrs pottinger: I note with a not insignificant degree of disdain that Mortan has given them my best muskets. I trust they will handle them with due care.
lizzie: They are standing back to back.
mrs pottinger: They are striding apart. This is so exciting for one to observe.
a shot is fired.