Geoffrey A retired businessman in his mid-fifties who after building up a successful engineering works from scratch has sold it for a good price and used the proceeds to buy the small Ernscar Castle; cultured and good-natured.

Helen His wife, the one conventionally religious member of the family; anxious for grandchildren - so long as they are conceived in wedlock.

John Geoffrey and Helen’s son, about 30, with an unspecified professional job in a city some distance away. Single, would like to marry, but is nervous of forcing the issue. Tends to flippancy if conversation becomes serious.

Anne His girl friend of two years, an art gallery attendant, spending the latest of many chaste weekends with John at Ernscar and beginning to wonder whether the association will ever come to anything.

Brian An old friend of Geoffrey’s, and John’s godfather, also visiting for the weekend. After a wild youth he has astonished everyone by rising to a chair of theology at a respectable university. Ready as the occasion suggests to be either jocular or serious in treating the subject, though never portentous.

Robert Fifteenth-century Lord Ernscar, intelligent, humane by the standards of his time, anxious for good government so far as he can enforce or influence it during a time of increasingly conflicting political interests under a weak and incompetent king.

Justin Bishop of the local diocese. Robert’s oldest and closest friend, a partner in trying to keep some order in the political situation; glad to forget his ecclesiastical dignity when staying at Ernscar.

Nicholas Justin’s favourite page, in his mid-teens, orphaned and treated almost as a son. More arty than chivalric.

Alison Daughter of Robert’s jester, much the same age as Nicholas and forming an instant rapport with him; pretty, cheerful and teasing.

Various places in and around Ernscar Castle, somewhere in the north of England, in the present and in the late 1430s.

It is recommended to have minimal scenery and décor, perhaps enough to suggest both modern and mediaeval scenes, although they are best differentiated by costume. The scenes are mostly short and should be separated by lighting changes.

Peter D. Wilson
Seascale, February 2002
Copyright © 2002

Scene 1.

Geoffrey Right, everyone supplied? Help yourselves to refills. Splendid dinner, Helen, thank you.

Helen Thank Mabel. I had very little to do with it.

Geoffrey Maybe, but the planning is as important as the execution.

Anne Talking of execution, I’d better make my peace with her for holding things up.

Helen Don’t worry. I explained why. She’ll understand you can’t just leave a customer standing. She helps out in the village shop herself.

Anne But I don’t suppose she gets people who can’t make up their minds whether to purchase or not.

Geoffrey Don’t you believe it. I’ve seen people dithering for ages, though it’s usually over something like whether to take Granny Smiths or Cox’s.

Anne And he didn’t take it in the end. A pity; we particularly wanted to shift that painting.

Brian What’s so special about it?

Anne Doubtful attribution. Could be early Flemish, but the provenance is dodgy, and it might be a clever forgery. Greg took a gamble in buying it, and now he’s getting cold feet.

Brian Might be worth taking a look.

Geoffrey I didn’t know professors of theology could afford the kind of price that Greg charges.

Brian I said a look, not a cheque-book. Purely out of interest.

John I don’t suppose Greg would thank you for showing it wasn’t even a van Meegeren, just a pastiche by Joe Bloggs of Huddersfield.

Brian My opinion doesn’t count. It’s only an amateur interest.

Geoffrey But an unusually well-informed amateur interest.

Anne I wonder - Oh, never mind.

Helen No, go on, Anne. What is it?

Anne It’s nothing, really. I was just thinking of that picture in my room - you know, the one supposed to be of the jester’s daughter.

John What about it?

Anne That’s it. I wondered if Brian could tell us anything about it.

Brian Nothing that Greg couldn’t, I’m sure. Presumably you’ve asked him?

Anne I doubt if Greg would give it a second glance. It isn’t the sort of thing he’d bother with - not exactly a collector’s item.

Geoffrey Anne’s being diplomatic. To call it third-rate would be flattering. But someone in Tudor times evidently thought it worth keeping, and it might be interesting to hear what Brian thinks. Would you like to fetch it?

Anne Right. Shan’t be long. (Exit)

Helen (Urgently) John, I didn’t have a chance to ask before. Any developments?

John If you mean, "Have I popped the question?", no.

Helen I didn’t mean it quite as bluntly as that. But are there any signs of progress?

John Mother, I know you mean well, but it doesn’t help. It’s no use going at it like a bull at a gate. Remember what happened with Monica.

Helen Yes, but there’s a difference between due caution and not moving at all. Isn’t there, Geoffrey?

Geoffrey Leave me out of this, dear. "Strike while the iron is hot," maybe, but strike too early and you lose the fish. From my enormous experience, I’d say you can’t be too careful where women are concerned.

Helen I don’t remember your being particularly backward when we were courting.

Geoffrey Ah, but I was young and foolish then. John’s had time to learn a bit more sense.

Helen Oh, so it was lack of sense to propose, was it?

Geoffrey Utter folly - and extraordinary good luck that you accepted.

Helen Well, perhaps John should trust his luck a bit more. What do you say, Brian? Or don’t theologians believe in luck?

Brian Of course we do. But we generally call it "Providence" to make it sound more respectable. Or else put it into Greek, like everything else when we want to impress.

Geoffrey I never could get on with Greek. Managed Latin tolerably well, but not the other. Why on earth do you have to use such an awkward language?

Brian It’s rather like the old alchemists; "When we have spoken plainly, we have said nothing." But to be serious, it’s chiefly to avoid terms that change their meaning with common usage. And Greek is the language of ideas; the Romans were more engineers than philosophers.

Anne (returning with the picture) What’s all this about philosophy?

Brian I was explaining why we use Greek technical terms. So that’s the painting, is it?

Anne Yes. Be careful; the panel’s in rather poor condition.

Brian Better than we shall be at that age. Hmm, as you say, not particularly good.

Helen Condition or quality?

Brian Both. It looks like the style of the Flemish school, say about fifteenth century, but rather rough and ready. I suppose it could be an amateur imitation. Or a student piece kept for sentimental reasons. Whether it’s of the actual period I can’t tell without proper tests, of course, but so far as I can see the materials look right. So does the craquelure, though that can be faked. But this can hardly be a deliberate fake; not well enough done.

Geoffrey So you think it might be genuine?

Brian I see nothing to suggest otherwise - can’t say more than that. (Passing it back to Anne) But you mentioned a Tudor interest.

Geoffrey Yes. Apparently there’s a letter in the Bodleian collection from the then Lord Ernscar to his cousin, mostly about other matters which were why it was preserved. But as a footnote it mentions that this painting had come to light during renovations to the castle, that it was of no one important and in poor condition and he’d have thrown it out, only Lady Ernscar took a fancy to it so he was having it re-framed as a birthday present for her.

Brian So he knew who the girl was?

Geoffrey There was a faint inscription on the back of the panel saying it was of Alison, daughter of Thomas Miller, who had been jester at the castle in the 1400s.

Brian (Making to reclaim the picture) I didn’t notice that.

Geoffrey It was barely decipherable even then, the wood surface had deteriorated so much, and in the re-framing it was covered by a supporting panel. It was a thorough job, must have cost umpteen times what the painting was worth. He evidently didn’t stint things for his wife.

Helen Good for him!

Geoffrey That’s probably what saved it. Later generations must have thought that anything so carefully preserved had to be valuable, despite appearances.

Anne Is anything else known about Alison?

Geoffrey Lady Ernscar evidently asked the same question. She had the parish register searched - it’s disappeared since, of course - and found the baptism of an Alison Miller in 1421, but nothing about marriage or death.

John Is that significant?

Brian Possibly not. The family could have moved away, though that was unusual. Or it might have been a different Alison Miller altogether who died in infancy, as would have been too commonplace to mention.

Helen I wonder why Lady Ernscar took such an interest.

Geoffrey Who knows? A distant relative, perhaps?

Brian I doubt it. Remember it was a clearly stratified society. People of different classes might be on quite friendly terms, but they wouldn’t intermarry. No one of Lady Ernscar’s status was likely to be descended from a servant, not even a privileged servant like the jester. Or if by some chance she were, to admit it.

Anne I wonder -

Helen Yes?

Anne No, I’m probably being silly.

John Perish the thought!

Helen Take no notice of him, dear. Let’s have it.

Anne Well, there’s something about that picture that draws me to it. Maybe Lady Ernscar felt the same.

Helen Draws you to it - in what way?

Anne Sometimes, depending on how the light falls, the face seems terribly sad. I get a feeling of longing for something she can’t quite grasp.

John Sounds like a version of the usual frustration dream. I’d have thought it a good reason for getting rid of the thing.

Anne But that would be like kicking a lame dog out of the way. I feel I want to help, only I can’t see how.

Brian I suppose you could always try prayer.

Geoffrey Some people drag religion into everything.

Brian In my profession you can hardly keep it out - despite some of the practitioners.

Anne I don’t think I could pray to the Christian God.

John You might try one of the others - Krishna, or Zeus even.

Geoffrey I shouldn’t risk Zeus. Not to be trusted with any tolerably attractive woman.

Brian But to be serious, Anne, what’s your objection?

Anne The inconsistencies; I just can’t believe in them. He’s supposed to be the compassionate, the all-merciful -

John That’s the Moslem one.

Brian Same God, different name. Go on, Anne.

Anne - and yet you have him condemning people to eternal torment for mistakes committed in life.

Brian Ah yes, that old canard. It isn’t God who condemns; it’s the individual choice.

Helen How can that be?

Brian It’s standard theology that God wants to give his love to everyone and to have theirs in return. But it must be freely given. He won’t thrust his love on those who, given a final irrevocable choice, won’t accept it.

Helen But surely no one would refuse.

Brian Perhaps you wouldn’t. I hope not. But love - real love - is the hardest thing on earth to accept fully. It means abandoning the defences. Ultimately the whole lot, not just the outer earthworks which are the most we usually surrender in human relationships. It isn’t lightly done. I couldn’t do it, not yet, not without a lot of help.

Geoffrey I don’t remember your having much difficulty when we were youngsters.

Brian I said real love. Not lust; they’re practically opposites - that’s why by itself it can turn so easily into hatred. Nor dalliance, although it’s a pale imitation of love and may lead to the real thing. Setting out to sea in the gentle breeze of a light flirtation and then running into a force nine gale can be quite terrifying - or exhilarating, for those with the guts to take it. Imagine what it must be to face the full hurricane. That needs a lot of guts.

Helen What was the quotation about God’s tempering the wind to the shorn lamb?

Brian I’m talking about completely mature sheep, capable at last of taking a fully informed, eternal decision. One way or the other. And the other, as I see it, is to be left to one’s own devices.

John Not quite the conventional picture of Hell.

Brian That’s a metaphor - the only way we can speak of the divine, or the diabolical. You must be familiar with sexual frustration. That’s torment enough, just in one specific function. Hell is the frustration of an entire being, intended for the company of God, yet refusing it.

Anne (considering this) What do you think of ghost stories?

Brian A literary convention. On a par with the house-party detective yarn. A good excuse for telling a highly improbable but entertaining tale. My favourites are M. R. James’s.

Anne No, I meant the ones that people take seriously.

Brian Oh, sorry. The usual view in the churches is that as a rule people shouldn’t. But they don’t quite rule out the possibility that on occasion there may be something in them - a lingering presence of evil, perhaps. Anything of the sort lurking in your dungeons, Geoffrey?

Geoffrey Not that I know of. So far as I’m aware the only spirits down there are the kind in your glass.

Helen Actually …

Geoffrey Yes?

Helen I was once talking to old Megan who had some tale about figures in mediaeval garb being seen around the place. But people said she was more or less barmy anyway.

Geoffrey And I suppose they were dimly seen in a half-light by people of doubtful sobriety and accompanied by a deathly chill around midnight.

Helen Something like that. Only there was no chill. If anything, a sense of warmth and comfort for people with particular anxieties.

Geoffrey Benign spirits, then. If spirits they were.

Brian Actually, that’s quite a thought. We’ve no real idea what the blessed may be up to in heaven. The conventional notion of performing some everlasting celestial cantata appals me.

Geoffrey From your efforts in last year’s carol service, I’m not surprised.

Brian Quite. I should certainly hope for something more constructive. It’s conceivable that for those who have been particularly effective comforters on Earth, the task may be to continue the good work. After all, there’s a long tradition of praying to the saints. They may not be limited to intercession.

Helen One thing that bothers people is the idea of praying for the dead. Some disapprove of it, but others think it’s worth while. What do you say?

Brian I suppose it could give a helpful nudge to someone who’s teetering on the edge, undecided in the last moments of consciousness whether to let go or not. Or it might ease the pain of doing so.

Geoffrey Pain?

Brian If you come from an interior room into full sunlight, you can’t stand the glare for a while. And looking directly at the naked sun is positively dangerous. The full light of God must be infinitely harder to bear, and slipping back into the darkness a very attractive alternative. And then there’s the pain of cutting the ties to things of earth - those that are good in a transitory way as well as the evil or merely harmless. Some people have cultivated detachment before the end; most don’t, so far as I can see.

Anne All right, supposing for the sake of argument that prayer can help people who are dying, I still don’t see what good it can do for those already dead.

Brian Don’t forget, these are matters of eternity. God isn’t limited by time. It’s all present to him. There’s a story that Padre Pio was once found praying for a happy death for his father, who’d been gone for ten years.

John At that rate you might as well pray for the redemption of Adam - or Judas Iscariot.

Brian You can’t alter what’s already happened in the temporal order, of course, but prayer at any time will have been a factor in determining it. Not changing God’s mind - no one can do that, for all the anthropomorphism in a lot of the tales - but supporting the poor weak humans who are involved. Like the backing supporting the damaged panel with the picture. As for Adam, I don’t see why not. It hadn’t occurred to me, but it might not be a bad idea at that.

Helen (after a pause) I was looking at the war memorial this morning, thinking of the Remembrance Day ceremony. All those names. Many of them the names of people I know in the village - their fathers, uncles, grandfathers. Does remembrance do any good?

Brian It depends. Remembrance pure and simple is no more use than remembering you left the chip pan unattended after the house has burned down. It just depresses the living. But there must be many a mental prayer during the two minutes’ silence. And C. S. Lewis said something about the courtesy of heaven being to take the best men know as better than they know. When someone is remembered with affection and gratitude, even by an unbeliever, I’m sure it will be taken as a kind of prayer. (With a double take, noticing the level of whisky) Geoffrey, you old devil! You’ve been topping up my glass!

Geoffrey Someone had to; you were far too engrossed.

Brian Cask strength, too. No wonder I’ve been rabbiting on, lecturing you like a class of undergraduates. I do apologise, everyone.

Helen No, it was fascinating. A lot better than anything on the telly!

Anne Yes, thank you, Brian. I’m not sure I’m convinced, but it’s something to think about.

Geoffrey Refill, Anne?

Anne No, thanks. I’ve had quite enough already. Will you please excuse me? It’s been a long day.

Helen Yes, of course. Have you everything you need?

Anne Everything, thank you. Good night. (Exit)

Helen Is she all right?

John Just tired. Exhausted, in fact. Judith’s off on maternity leave, so Anne and Greg have had to cover for the past few weeks. Which means that it’s mostly Anne who covers, because Greg still has to do the buying and what not. (Yawns) Oh hell, I’ve started now. I think I’d better turn in as well. Good night. (Exit)

Helen Oh dear. You don’t think …

Geoffrey No, Helen, I do not think. It’s none of our business. And if it were, after the way you’ve been going on about wanting grandchildren before you’re too old to enjoy them, you could hardly blame him for taking some steps. What say you, Brian?

Brian I think if there were anything of the sort going on, procreation would hardly be the motive. And Helen obviously wants the steps to start where they should, in church.

Geoffrey You disappoint me. I thought you’d come up with something more original than that.

Helen Yes, I know it’s old fashioned, but -

Geoffrey She wants an excuse to lash out on a new hat.

Helen Well, it would be nice, it’s true. But I don’t like all this modern immorality.

Geoffrey You’re just jealous.

Brian If it’s any comfort, there are far worse immoralities than fornication - what Dorothy Sayers (was it?) called one of the more generous sins. And she pointed out that those who are hardest on it tend to go for the meaner, grubbier ones. Oh lord, there I go again, lecturing. Time to call it a day. When do you want me down for breakfast, Helen?

Scene 2.

Robert Ah, there you are, Justin. Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you. A bit of trouble as I came by the mill. The constable couldn’t cope by himself and called for help. Held me up for the best part of an hour.

Justin Serious?

Robert Not really. A bunch of farmers had accused the miller of cheating and turned up with clubs to make their point - if you can make a point with a blunt instrument, before you get in with one of your cracks.

Justin And was he?

Robert Cheating? I very much doubt it. Old Jack would certainly be careful to take no less than his due, but not a whit more if I know him. In any case clubs are no way to deal with that kind of issue. They’ll be up in court for affray at the next sitting.

Justin And then a hanging or two?

Robert Not likely. Not that I’ve any compunction when they’re called for, as you know well enough, but there’s no sense in being more severe than necessary. We’ve never fully recovered from the plague - don’t want to lose any more than we must from the land.

Justin Keep them at their spades rather than their clubs?

Robert Nice one. They’ll have to make good the damage, and a good bit more for the trouble they’ve caused, then we can call it quits. Least ill feeling all round. But I’m neglecting my duties. I hope your accommodation is all right?

Justin Of course. Cedric saw to everything with his usual efficiency. You’ve a good man there.

Robert I know. I’ve been very lucky with my staff generally.

Justin It isn’t just luck. It takes a good lord to make a good servant.

Robert Well, I try. But you can’t do anything if the basic quality isn’t there.

Justin True enough. Nicholas, what are you thinking of? Wine for his lordship. You know, Robert, Ernscar’s become almost a second home to me.

Robert That’s the best compliment you could pay to a host.

Justin In fact, in some ways it’s better than my own home. I don’t need to be on my dignity here. Right, Nicholas, I don’t think we’ll need you again for a while. You can go and play with your new toys for a couple of hours - I know you’ve been dying to.

Nicholas Thank you, my lord. (To Robert) My lord. (Bows and exits)

Robert I gather that Nicholas hasn’t quite caught the Ernscar informality.

Justin No need to take it to extremes. But you’ve no idea how wearisome it can be - the constant "Yes, my lord," "No, my lord," "As my lord bishop says," when you know very well that what he longs to say is "You’re talking through the top of your head" - or some less dignified part of the anatomy.

Robert Not Nicholas, surely?

Justin No, I mean the minor prelates and chaplains and goodness knows who else. Even the lesser gentry. All crawling. All about as sincere as the serpent himself.

Robert All?

Justin Well, no, I exaggerate. There are a few honest men among them - probably more than a few, to be truthful. But oh for someone like your Tom Fool to give a straightforward opinion I can believe in.

Robert Sorry, Justin, I’d do a lot for you but I’m not parting with Tom. He’s far too valuable.

Justin I’m sure.

Robert A Fool who’s anything but a fool. His nose for treachery has saved me from quite a few nasty surprises. And you know something of his wit. You should have heard him with Lord Humbert last week; practically every remark was a double entendre at his expense. In the end I had to signal to him to lay off because I couldn’t keep my face straight any longer - and then even an ass like Humbert might have twigged.

Justin Not the brightest of our nobility.

Robert Nor the dimmest, worse luck. But anyway, how was Rome?

Justin Oh, don’t ask.

Robert As bad as that?

Justin Worse. It still hasn’t recovered from the schism - the city’s in a mess, the cardinals are as bad as our English grandees, French squabbling with Italians and the Italians themselves at each other’s throats. That’s why I stayed for a few weeks at Gilbert’s monastery in Bruges to cheer myself up.

Robert A place I’ve never visited.

Justin You should. The architecture’s splendid, the people hospitable. And the paintings! They’ve invented a new technique that gives really brilliant effects. Young Nicholas was in his element.

Robert I didn’t know he was interested.

Justin He dabbles. He’s produced some quite pretty flower studies -

Robert I hope you’ve told him to keep off roses.

Justin Don’t worry. I’m as keen as you are not to offend either York or Lancaster.

Robert Sorry, I interrupted.

Justin Well, he was with me when I paid a courtesy visit to the Duke. A Master van Eyck was there - evidently the Duke uses him as both a painter and a diplomat and I’m not sure which capacity he was representing on that occasion - and the two seemed to click. The upshot was that van Eyck offered to show Nicholas his workshop, I had nothing much else for the lad to do, so off they went together, Nicholas like a cat with two tails.

Robert Evidently a decent sort.

Justin I’ve usually found the Flemings obliging, and of course to meet an enthusiast for one’s speciality is always pleasing. Anyway, that evening Nicholas said that one of van Eyck’s assistants was willing to teach him something of the new techniques if I’d permit it.

Robert Extraordinary!

Justin Isn’t it? You usually find craftsmen jealous of their secrets. I suspect he was fishing for a commission, but there was probably an element of sheer good will.

Robert Did you give him one?

Justin No, but I was obviously under some obligation, so I bought a couple of the workshop’s stock paintings - they always keep some in hand for casual sales. Rather more classy than the usual tat passed off to pilgrims or the like in transit. One tit-bit of information Nicholas picked up was that the guest-master at the monastery takes a small monthly retainer to point visitors in that direction. I’m not sure that Gilbert’s aware of that, and I’m afraid I forgot to mention it to him.

Robert Diplomatic amnesia can be very convenient.

Justin Quite. I must show you these two pictures when we’ve unpacked. They’re rather attractive - should impress visiting bigwigs. And copying them could be a good exercise for Nicholas.

Robert Rather an unusual occupation for a page, isn’t it?

Justin Yes, but considering what other activities he might get up to in an unfamiliar city, I was happy for him to be kept out of mischief with something he enjoyed more than mooching around the monastery.

Robert Not the ideal place for a young man of the world to find entertainment.

Justin Exactly. Anyway, for the rest of our stay he seemed to spend all his free time at the workshop. Not all tuition, of course, but sometimes helping prepare the panels and colours, sometimes watching the other painters and how they did things. And trying a little piece or two of his own. More or less like one of their own apprentices (that in itself could be useful experience - not many of our nobility seem to have much idea of how craftsmen’s minds work or how to deal with them). They even let him loose on an odd corner of a big work in hand for one of the guilds.

Robert Sounds risky.

Justin With careful instructions of course, and it would probably be retouched afterwards, but it pleased him no end. Before we left I went along to see what he’d been up to. The foreman - a very kindly fellow - said that Nicholas would probably never be a great painter, but showed signs of a minor talent that it would do no harm to encourage, so I bought him a basic kit of equipment and materials at the same time as my own purchases.

Robert Aha! The new toys you sent him off to play with.

Justin Yes. This is the first time we’ve been anywhere long enough to be worth unpacking it.

Robert And very good it is to have you here. But we can’t spend all day chatting about your travels; we’d better get down to business. Things don’t improve much, I’m afraid.

Justin Any particular developments?

Robert Well, although the king’s still under age they’ve declared him "capable of government," but he seems just as useless as under the regency council. The Beauforts have kept a lot more influence than I like, and Duke Humphrey, when he isn’t squabbling with them, is preoccupied with the French war.

Justin Plus ¸ a change …

Robert Yes, c’est la mà me chose with a vengeance. But without the formal provisions we had under the regency. There’s bound to be a power struggle, sooner or later. We need a strong monarchy - and as Henry obviously isn’t going to embody it, I’m very much afraid someone else will try to.

Justin Fancy the job yourself?

Robert Good lord, no! Running Ernscar is enough for me. I know my limitations, and thank goodness I’ve no connections with the royal line. Though I couldn’t be worse than Henry. No one could.

Justin We might get someone positively malicious. But even the Pope said he’d be happier about our situation if the cardinal spent more time in church and the king a damn sight less.

Robert Did he, indeed? I wonder who the informant is. Not the cardinal himself, presumably. But we’ve our own little corner of the realm to keep in order. We need to sort out who’s likely to be with us in that, and who would more likely be looking to their own advantage. It’ll be useful to have a map handy - I’ve got one in my study. We should see it more easily there. (Exeunt)

Alison You’ve drawn that chest wrong.

Nicholas What?!

Alison Sorry, did I startle you?

Nicholas You did, rather. (Taking a good look) But it was worth it.

Alison (coquettishly) Thank you, kind sir. Quite the courtier, aren’t you?

Nicholas I’m practising.

Alison Being a courtier or a painter?

Nicholas A bit of both, at the moment.

Alison You’re Bishop Justin’s page, aren’t you?

Nicholas That’s right. Nicholas Palmer, at your service. And you?

Alison Alison Miller. My father’s the castle Fool.

Nicholas The Bishop’s told me about him. Says he’s actually the most intelligent man in the castle, after Lord Robert himself. He didn’t say what a lovely daughter he had, though.

Alison Don’t overdo the flannel. Or I shan’t believe anything you say.

Nicholas Sorry.

Alison You’re forgiven. I’ve known worse offences.

Voice off Alison! What are you dawdling about?

Alison Coming! See you later, Master Nicholas.

Nicholas That didn’t take long.

Alison Disappointed?

Nicholas Far from it. Can you stay a bit longer this time?

Alison Just a moment. I do have work to do, you know.

Nicholas I don’t want to get you into trouble.

Alison (deliberately misinterpreting) You’re very much mistaken if you think you’ll get the chance.

Nicholas I mean for neglecting your duties.

Alison They’re not too desperately urgent.

Nicholas Would you - er -

Alison I thought we’d settled that.

Nicholas You’ve got a one-track mind.

Alison And your thoughts are all pure and flower-like?

Nicholas (grinning ruefully) Not invariably.

Alison Good. You had me worried for a moment. Now what was it you were going to ask?

Nicholas Well, painting this bit of the hall is all good practice, but it isn’t terribly interesting. I wondered if you’d let me paint you.

Alison This one seems to be giving you enough trouble. How long would that take?

Nicholas I suppose I could get enough down in an hour or two to work up later.

Alison Do you seriously suppose that I could stay here for one hour, let alone two, when there’s all the laundry to sort out?

Nicholas Not in one session, of course. But couldn’t you sneak the odd five minutes every time you pass through? In your not desperately urgent duties?

Alison I don’t spend all my time traipsing backwards and forwards through here. This is exceptional. And I’d better get on with it or there’ll be the devil to pay. ’Bye. (Exit)

Nicholas Oh, damn!

Alison It still looks wrong.

Nicholas Eh?!! (He is startled into dropping his brush. This time it falls on his hose leaving a streak of colour before making another mess on the floor.) Oh, no!

Alison You don’t seem so pleased to see me this time.

Nicholas I’m sorry, Alison. Of course I’m pleased. But I’ve only just cleaned up one mess.

Alison Are you always as clumsy as this?

Nicholas No, it must be the effect you have on me.

Alison That’s right, blame the woman. The old story. Here, give me that rag, I’ll clear up the spot on the floor.

Nicholas I’m really more concerned about this one.

Alison (sharply) You can see to that yourself. (More gently) Good try, but too obvious. Get the worst off, then leave the hose out tonight and I’ll see they’re washed in the morning.

Nicholas Thank you. Sorry I was ratty just now.

Alison Don’t be silly. Anyone would be.

Nicholas It’s a good job they’re just my travelling togs. But I thought you weren’t coming back.

Alison So did I. I mentioned what you were thinking of to Gran - the painting, I mean, not the other. "Cheek!" she said. But Grandad said His Lordship had given instructions that the Bishop’s people were to have everything they wanted, so I’d better give you your hour or two, and Gran couldn’t argue very much with that. She couldn’t see his wink behind her back.

Nicholas (returning to normal good humour) How far does that instruction go?

Alison (mock-severe) Not that far. I don’t know, you’re incorrigible. Now, how do you want me?

Nicholas Need you ask?

Alison Nicholas! Behave yourself, or I’ll tell Grandad you’re trying to seduce me. Or tell Dad, which would be no joke at all. Where do you want me to sit?

Nicholas Just there, in the light. Make yourself comfortable, and keep looking at something definite over my left shoulder. That’s it. Now, can you hold that position?

Alison I think so. May I talk?

Nicholas Can anyone stop you? But try to keep your head still, and the same expression as far as you can.

Alison Smiling? Solemn? Or what?

Nicholas Try a few. (She does, including a few consciously comic or grotesque) Come on, be serious. No, I don’t mean it must be a serious expression, just don’t fool about.

Alison What do you expect of the Fool’s daughter?

Nicholas Something of the common sense he’s supposed to have. That’s better. Again. Now, more relaxed, and go through them slowly. That’s it. No, the one before. That’s it - lovely. Hold that.

Nicholas I haven’t seen your father about, this time.

Alison No, he’s gone off to see Granpa Miller. Lord Robert said there’d been some trouble and he’d better make sure everything was sorted out.

Nicholas Oh, that business at the mill.

Alison You know about it?

Nicholas He wasn’t here when we arrived, and explained that he’d been held up dealing with a shindig there. Apparently a row about the miller’s cut that turned nasty.

Alison Oh dear. How nasty?

Nicholas Don’t worry, he said it wasn’t serious. A case for fines and restitution rather than hanging. Is there no other help there?

Alison My two uncles and a journeyman. But they tend to argue about how to do anything out of the ordinary, rather than getting on with the job. Dad can usually organise them better.

Nicholas He’s the eldest son?

Alison Actually the youngest. But being friendly with Lord Robert gives him a lot of clout.

Nicholas So Gran and Grandad are your mother’s parents?

Alison Yes, they’ve more or less looked after me since my mother died.

Nicholas Oh, I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.

Alison How could you? Actually I never knew her - it was when I was born. Dad misses her badly, though. They say he was always a bit dour, but it made him worse. "Goes around like having one foot in the grave."

Nicholas A dour jester. Now I’ve seen everything. Will I have met Grandad?

Alison I expect so. He’s the castle steward.

Nicholas Cedric! Of course I know him. Marvellous character.

Alison Yes, I think so. No one could have been kinder. And Gran’s much the same. She tends to be a bit stricter with me, but always for good reason.

Alison Painting’s not a usual activity for a page, is it? Here it’s all grammar, etiquette and military training when they’re not on other duties.

Nicholas I’ve had some lessons in swordsmanship from the captain of the bodyguard. But I was no good at it. I could probably defend myself against an ordinary footpad, but somehow I don’t see myself ever shining in knightly exploits.

Alison So your amatory activities have all been in the day-time, have they?

Nicholas I said knightly, not nightly. On a horse. With a K. Oh, sorry.

Alison For what?

Nicholas I was forgetting. Girls don’t usually get lessons in spelling, do they?

Alison I’ll let you into a secret, if you promise not to tell anyone.

Nicholas Of course I promise.

Alison Dad taught me to read and write. On the quiet. Said you could never tell when it was going to be useful. But I shouldn’t let on, or people would think I was getting above myself.

Nicholas I’ve got a secret, too.

Alison What about?

Nicholas My amatory history.

Alison I don’t think I ought to hear this.

Nicholas It’s really shocking. (Leaning towards her) There isn’t any.

Alison (laughing, not displeased) I might have guessed. All talk and no action.

Nicholas That’s me. Big-mouth Nicholas. To be fair, there aren’t all that many opportunities in a clerical household.

Alison Now you’re just making excuses.

Nicholas Guilty. Er -

Alison Yes?

Nicholas I was wondering. It’s a bit cheeky, but do you have a boy friend?

Alison No.

Nicholas None at all?

Alison Well, there are boys I’m friendly with. But just for dances and the like. They’re good-hearted enough, but - well - they’re a bit - uncouth, if you see what I mean.

Nicholas Yes, I see. (After a pause) Alison …

Alison Yes?

Nicholas We’re only staying here a few days. But the Bishop wants to keep in closer touch with Lord Robert - they’re worried about the political situation. If I got the courier to slip an occasional letter to you secretly, would you mind?

Alison (simply) I think I’d rather like that. (Fade out.)

Justin … so for once I’m not too worried about having a sovereign so excessively devoted to the church. Otherwise I’m not sure whether the French war would encourage him to do the opposite to Charles or to over-reach him.

Robert I get lost in all this business. Local politics is bad enough, I have to take some interest in the national issues, but keeping up with what’s happening on the continent is beyond me.

Justin Not surprising, though I suspect you’ve a far shrewder idea of it than you let on. I have to keep referring to the documents myself or I’d get in a hopeless tangle. Nicholas, the file on the Council of Basel, please.

Nicholas (snapping out of his reverie) I - er - I’m sorry, my lord, what did you say?

Justin Nicholas! Pass me the file on the Council of Basel.

Nicholas Yes, my lord. (Searching the pile) I’m sorry, it looks as though I forgot to bring it.

Justin (eyes cast heavenwards) Give me patience! Nip along and get it. And no dawdling on the way! (Exit Nicholas) It’s essentially a question of whether the Pope or a general council has the higher authority. Though how half a dozen not spectacularly impressive bishops left behind in Basel after the rest moved to Ferrara can claim to be a general council is beyond me - and that particular Council was never up to much in the first place. Hardly anyone could get to it, for one reason or another. As for their having any right to depose a pope, it’s rather like your manorial court purporting to appoint the parish constable in place of Henry, sixth of that name, by the grace of God our sovereign liege-lord etcetera etcetera etcetera. (Nicholas returns with a file) Thank you. (Exasperatedly) Nicholas!

Nicholas Yes, my lord?

Justin I said Basel, not Basil. And about a Council. We’ve enough troubles in the here and now without worrying over atrocities in the Balkans three hundred years ago. Why on earth did we bring that one anyway? Oh, never mind.

Nicholas I - I- I’m very sorry, my lord. I mis-heard you.

Justin All right. No excuses. Just get it. The Council of Basel, remember, not the culinary use of herbs or whatever else comes into your head. (Exit Nicholas)

Robert (amused) Not like Nicholas to be so inefficient. Is he sickening for something, do you think?

Justin I’m afraid he may be.

Robert (concerned) Anything serious?

Justin It could be - for him.

Robert That’s bad enough. But not infectious?

Justin Maybe sometimes. It seems to be spread by books, among other things. I caught him with his nose stuck in a collection of Petrarch’s sonnets the other day. That man has a lot to answer for.

Robert (relieved) So that’s it. Poor lad! He has my sympathy. I remember, back in my own teens … Any idea who’s the lady?

Justin Yes, though you’d never guess it.

Robert I shan’t try. Don’t keep me in suspense.

Justin Your Tom Fool’s daughter, of all people.

Robert Alison?

Justin Yes, that was the name he mentioned.

Robert Good lord. Well, that solves one little mystery.

Justin Does it indeed? What’s that?

Robert Tom came to me a few weeks ago, very worried. One of the servants had picked up a letter that Alison had dropped, wasn’t able to return it to her at the time, couldn’t tell what it was so very properly gave it to Tom when they happened to meet. It shook him; he hadn’t known that she’d been carrying on a correspondence.

Justin So she’s literate, is she? Unusual, for a girl in her position.

Robert Yes, Tom told me he’d taught her. He seemed to regard that as something of a confession - didn’t want it spread around - so we’d better consider all this a confidence.

Justin Of course.

Robert It turned out to be in very affectionate terms from someone signing himself simply N, but evidently well educated and cultured. Obviously none of the village lads, and the only N he could think of who might fit the bill is - well, better not mention names, but his record with women is less than spotless, and he lives only six miles away. Alison seemed quite genuinely shocked at the suggestion that he might be the one, but wouldn’t say who it actually was, only that he was an unattached gentleman of good reputation.

Justin Something to be thankful for, at any rate.

Robert Yes, except that some gentlemen of very high reputation have been known to be a little careless with other people’s. Alison assured Tom that there’d been no hanky-panky and wouldn’t be, and he doesn’t doubt her word or intention, but - well, we all know where good intentions can lead, especially when Cupid gets his bow and arrow out.

Justin Do we know how deeply smitten she is?

Robert Hard to tell. Tom’s impression is that she’s rather more cool-headed about it than the boy is, but if marriage were suggested she’d jump at it.

Justin Hmm. Not on, is it?

Robert Is Nicholas that serious, do you think? Or is it just a passing fancy?

Justin As far as a lad of his age knows his own mind, I should say he’s very serious. He did have a crush on the chaplain’s sister, but it never took him this badly and he was over it in five weeks. The next one lasted even less. This time, so far as I can tell, he’s hardly looked at any other girl for the past six months, and that’s quite something, for him

Robert Well, at least you can congratulate him on his good taste.

Justin You approve?

Robert She’s comely, capable, pleasant-mannered and so far as I can tell virtuous. Well liked, too. All the qualities he could ask in a wife - except the one essential.

Justin Class?

Robert Exactly. I don’t like the idea of confusing the boundaries. Could bring all kinds of problems. Look what happened when old Percy’s nephew eloped with the shoemaker’s daughter.

Justin Yes, he did rather put his foot in it.

Robert Justin!

Justin Sorry. To be serious, I do see the difficulties. Though Alison is evidently a cut above the usual run of servants. Nicholas could look a good deal higher and do worse. And his own background isn’t all that exalted.

Robert Oh?

Justin Do you remember my law man, Will Palmer?

Robert Vaguely. Wasn’t there some tragedy there?

Justin Yes, there was. He died, with his wife and most of the children, when a disappointed litigant set fire to his house.

Robert Very nasty.

Justin Yes. Nicholas is the only surviving son. He was away visiting an uncle at the time. Will had served me well, so I took the lad on as a page. I felt I owed it - the lawsuit in question was one for the diocese - though the uncle professes to consider it a favour to have the responsibility taken off his hands. Letting him think so does no harm. But if it is a favour it’s been amply rewarded. It’s almost like having a son of my own.

Robert Indeed!

Justin And you can take that smirk off your face, Robert Ernscar! I’m no model of priestly virtue, heaven knows, but I’ve never gone in for that kind of shenanigans. Or the other. But to get back to the point. The lad’s going to marry some time, and I’d like to see him happy. More importantly just now, I’d like to get his mind back on his proper duties.

Justin Talk of the devil. Goodness, where on earth have you been? What took you so long?

Nicholas I - I couldn’t find the file at first. I had to search for it.

Justin You didn’t by any chance run into Mistress Alison, did you?

Nicholas Well -

Justin And how much of her time did you waste?

Nicholas It didn’t seem long. I suppose it might have been about a quarter of an hour.

Justin Well, you’ve confessed, so you’re forgiven. But there has to be a penance, doesn’t there?

Nicholas Yes, my lord.

Justin And as his lordship is the offended party, he should set the penance. Eh, Robert?

Robert Well, if you insist. I think the punishment should fit the crime. Wasting a quarter of an hour of Alison’s time. Hmm. You’d better run along and help her make up for it.

Nicholas (delighted) Yes, my lord! Thank you. (Exit)

Justin (laughing) Robert, you old rogue, you’re incorrigible!

Robert Let them enjoy it while they can. It’s likely to be brief enough.

Justin You think so?

Robert In other circumstances it might have worked. But even then, how could we tell? How could they? You can’t base a lifetime’s commitment on - what? - conversations snatched when they’ve chanced to bump into each other during a few visits spread over the best part of a year. Perhaps an hour’s actual contact all told

Justin (slyly) Plus a quarter.

Robert All right, an hour and a quarter if you must be pedantic. It doesn’t make any difference. There’s probably more imagination than substance in his ideas of her.

Justin Quite possibly. How well did you know the Lady Eleanor before you were married?

Robert That’s different. The usual family set-up. The backgrounds were similar, everything tangible fitted. Of course we met a couple of times, briefly, enough to make sure that we didn’t actually hate each other. And that was all it needed for essentially an alliance between two factions. The personal relationship hardly mattered.

Justin Yet by all accounts it’s turned out tolerably well.

Robert (smiling affectionately - the marriage is evidently very happy) Tolerably indeed. But don’t forget, we started off without any great expectations in that direction. We knew we had to rub along together, and that we’d have to work at it - and I can tell you, it was damned hard work at times. Eleanor’s a strong character, and I don’t think you’d call me a weakling.

Justin A shade sentimental at times, perhaps? As evidenced by this morning’s events?

Robert All right, point taken. But I don’t trifle with serious matters. Neither does Eleanor. And our minds work in rather different ways. Over the years we’ve had a fair number of what the diplomats would call "candid exchanges of views." The important thing is that we eventually learned never to let them become personal.

Justin Well, whenever Nicholas does marry - whoever he marries - I shall have to send him along to you for advice.

Robert And the wife to Eleanor. But just supposing for the sake of argument that we were to countenance its being Alison, what should we do about it? If anything.

Justin Well, let’s consider the position. I stand more or less in loco parentis to Nicholas, as well as being his lord, but there’s the uncle who will reasonably expect a say in the matter. And again, while you have jurisdiction over the girl, I can’t see you leaving her father out of it. You said Tom was worried about the situation, without knowing who was involved. How would he react now?

Robert Probably much the same. He said he’d lectured her on the dangers of getting involved with the gentry; they didn’t always behave as the gentlemen they were supposed to be, and even if they wanted to, they were constrained by the social conventions on whom they might properly marry. Cedric and Alice backed him up, rather reluctantly.

Justin Why reluctantly?

Robert They’re normal grandparents. With the prerogative of spoiling the child.

Justin Of course. I’d forgotten the relationship.

Robert It might have been better if he’d left it at that. But you know he’s a rather embittered character. I gather from Cedric that he launched into one of his tirades about the nonsense of basing marriage on the notion of romantic love, and how fatuous it would be to make the most important personal decision in life while in a state of impaired judgement.

Justin True enough if that’s all there is to it.

Robert Yes, but you can’t expect a girl of Alison’s age to take kindly to that view. And then in any case he rather spoiled the effect by going on to say that the gentry always expected a bride to bring a dowry, and if whoever it was hoped to get one out of him, he had another think coming. Alison flounced out in a temper saying that N… would be mortally insulted by the very suggestion and wouldn’t dream of asking for a dowry.

Justin But the uncle would certainly expect one - it would look very bad otherwise, apart from the practical considerations.

Robert Quite so. Well, I’m very sorry, Master Nicholas, but there doesn’t seem to be much future in it.

Justin That’s more or less what I told him. Rather a pity, isn’t it?

Anne Well, Alison Miller, at least I know who you were now. I wonder why I never thought to ask before, when for some reason tonight it feels so important to have found out. The jester’s daughter. Not quite the grand lady I’d imagined. And there’s some mystery behind your portrait. Who had the idea of painting you? Not a professional, it seems. And why? Obviously with affection. Was the painter someone special to you? There seem to be more questions than ever.

What was life like in fifteenth-century Ernscar? Yours in particular. Were you really as sad as you sometimes seem? Curious how the expression comes and goes with the angle of the light. Does it reflect the pattern of your days, sometimes sad, sometimes gay? You look as though you might be capable of great happiness. And of bringing happiness to others. But that terrible sense of longing - it tears my insides. Was it tearing you apart, too?

I suppose a jester would be in an awkward position socially - constantly on familiar terms with the nobility, witness to their conversations, having to recognise and harmonise with their ways and moods, but certainly not one of them. And not really in the ordinary run of servants either. A foot in both camps, and at home in neither. The Fool, the outcast. And the daughter must have been in much the same boat. Were you perhaps in love with some young man in service, who thought you too proud? Or was it secretly with an aristocrat who looked down on you? But even if he didn’t, even if he loved you just as much in return, he’d have to give you up to marry an heiress chosen by the family. Or at best he might have kept you on as a mistress. Would he have done that? Would you have tolerated the position? It must have happened often enough - still does, after all. Accepting second best when what you really want is not to be had.

Anne Oh, this is ridiculous. It’s the middle of the night, I’ve had an exhausting day, I still can’t sleep, I’ve probably had too much to drink, I’m almost certainly imagining things. Everyone agrees it’s a poor painting - that stands out a mile. If it caught any subtlety of expression at all it was probably by accident. She may have been nothing like it, probably quite different. What’s the sense in trying to read anything into it? As likely as not I’m simply projecting my own problems on to this poor girl.

Oh, John, John, can’t you see how much I want you? It’s a constant ache when it isn’t a biting pain. Two years, it must be, since we first dated. And it went swimmingly at first. I really thought this is it. But now we seem to have been simply drifting for ages. I just can’t bear to keep on like this. That’s what’s tearing me apart. I don’t want to push you too hard and spoil everything, but unless you make a move soon I think I’ll have to break it off altogether.

Take yourself in hand, Anne Walsh. Sit down and think out what you’re going to do. Make a definite plan for the morning. And even if you don’t actually do any of it when it comes to the point, you may stop it bouncing around inside your head and at last get some sleep.

Nicholas Excuse me, my lords. A courier has just arrived and said that some of these messages might be urgent.

Robert Thank you, Nicholas. (Takes the satchel, sorts the contents into "yours" and "mine" piles and returns the empty satchel to Nicholas.)

Justin I suppose he’s being looked after?

Nicholas Oh yes. Cedric’s taken care of that.

Justin Of course. Come back in an hour for any replies.

Justin Honestly! Some people should never be let out of the nursery!

Robert What’s up?

Justin It’s those two blockheaded young cousins of mine. You know they’ve been at odds with each other for years. I persuaded them to meet on neutral territory to sort out their latest squabble. One of those good intentions that lead you know where.

Robert What went wrong?

Justin It seems it started off tolerably well, with the two principals for once talking more or less reasonably instead of hurling insults at each other. But meanwhile most of their servants had gone off to the tavern, and an argument developed into a brawl, and the brawl into an affray, and it ended up with several fairly serious injuries on both sides.

Robert As so often happens.

Justin Quite. I’d have thought even Richard and William would have had the sense to keep their men away from the ale - or at least away from each other. But there it is. Naturally each side accused the other of starting it, each lord demanded compensation from the other for his servants’ injuries, each obviously would refuse to pay, so now they’re on worse terms than ever. It looks as though they may bring their militias into it.

Robert Hell! As if we didn’t have enough troubles without our friends and relations fighting each other.

Justin Yes. I could cheerfully bang their heads together. I did think of trying to mediate again, and now I rather wish I had, but after the last time it didn’t seem worth while.

Robert What happened then?

Justin Each of them thought I was favouring the other, so it ended up a three-way row. I’m afraid I more or less washed my hands of them.

Robert How did all this ill feeling develop in the first place? I never did hear.

Justin As usual, a storm in a tankard. It all concerns the inheritance of a small manor house. Nothing compared with the estates that they have already.

Robert I’ve known bitter quarrels over less. Why on earth wasn’t it made clear in the will? Or wasn’t there one?

Justin There was indeed. The property came to me twenty years ago. But it’s entailed, and one or other of these two would get it according to the legal provisions for the possessor’s dying without lawful male issue. The snag is that they aren’t certain which.

Robert Surely they know which is the senior line?

Justin Of course. But there’s some dispute about its legitimacy, just plausible enough for no one to predict how a judgement between them would go if it went to court. So neither of them will risk litigation.

Robert Better than trial by battle, I’d have thought.

Justin Even they would see that - I think. But they now consider their honour to have been impugned, and the question of the inheritance is practically forgotten. Though of course they’ll remember it when the time comes.

Robert Inevitably. Can’t you do something about it?

Justin Between ourselves, I’ve been trying to find ways of disqualifying both of them. But for the insistence on "lawful" issue I might have been tempted to sire a bastard myself just to avoid the whole wretched problem.

Robert Ha, I’ve never heard that excuse before. Full marks for novelty if not for virtue, my old friend!

Justin I said, "might have been" tempted And I have been known to resist temptation. Occasionally. Fortunately I’ve never had too much trouble with that one.

Robert I shan’t ask what are the others. But it’s rather a pity in a way. Just think, the first offspring might have been a girl, and so might the second, so perhaps you should have taken half a dozen mistresses to be on the safe side.

Justin Heaven forbid! It’s bad enough when my two sisters get together.

Robert I wasn’t suggesting a harem. Six separate establishments. Might come a bit expensive, of course. Perhaps I could offer you a little love-nest on the estate?

Justin All right, all right, have your little joke. It would be quite amusing in other circumstances. Have you any more serious suggestions?

Robert Well, for a start, your ingenious little scheme wouldn’t have worked anyway, because if illegitimacy were no bar the question wouldn’t have arisen.

Justin I didn’t ask what wouldn’t work. Positive suggestions, please.

Robert Let’s see, then. The crucial point seems to be "lawful issue." I’m no expert on the law, but doesn’t formal adoption confer all the legal privileges of an actual son?

Justin I’m not sure how it would bear on the entail. But I could have that looked into.

Robert And even if it didn’t eventually stand in law, it would at least get those two idiots on the same side to fight it, and for the time being that might be good enough.

Justin It’s definitely worth thinking about.

Robert Good, because I’ve no other ideas. And it’s got to be quick, and it’s got be made known, at least to the said idiots.

Justin Hmm. It wouldn’t normally be very special news.

Robert One way might be to install your new-found heir and his family in the manor itself. That would be sure to come to their ears. Is there a sitting tenant, by the way?

Justin A steward. That’s no problem.

Robert Good. So all we need is to choose your son.

Justin There’s no option. In the time we have, it can only be Nicholas.

Robert A bit young for the part, isn’t he? And no family, not even a wife.

Justin There’s nothing we can do about his age. A wife is another matter.

Robert Oh, come off it, Justin. I may be fairly ruthless at times, and of course these things are essentially matters of convenience, but I’d never force a man besotted with one woman into marriage to another. Altogether too cruel all round.

Justin Ruthless? Actually, Robert, I think you’re quite a romantic on the quiet.

Robert Justin, I don’t like that crafty look in your eye. I’ve seen it before, and it usually bodes trouble.

Justin Does it, indeed? Well, how about this? You’ve just wished a son on me. Allow me to return the compliment with a daughter.

Robert What!!?

Justin Simple. I adopt Nicholas; you adopt Alison. That gets over the question of rank, and from what I’ve seen, Mistress Alison is more than a match for some of our high-born ladies in sense and decorum. You’ll have to square it with Master Thomas, of course, but explain that it’s purely a legal fiction, except that you’ll be providing the dowry for her wedding - evidently the lady is willing enough …

Robert Ah yes, the dowry. I knew there’d be a snag somewhere.

Justin Don’t worry, I shan’t be unduly demanding in that respect.

Robert Too kind!

Justin Anyway, I’m sure from what I hear of Tom that on those conditions he won’t object, so announce the wedding, invite the two idiots at the root of all the trouble - you never know, on such an occasion they might actually be induced to talk to each other like civilised gentlemen instead of quarrelsome schoolboys - and hey presto! The problem’s solved, for the time being. And sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

Robert (rubbing his hands) Hmm. You know, Justin, I think you must be right. I find myself rather looking forward to your announcing all this to Master Nicholas.

Robert Enter! (Nicholas enters)

Nicholas You sent for me, my lord?

Robert Yes, Nicholas. His Lordship has something to say to you. I’m afraid it’s bound to be rather a shock, so you’d better be seated.

Nicholas (wondering, nervous) Thank you, my lord.

Justin Nicholas, you’ve been with me for nearly three years now, haven’t you?

Nicholas A little over, my lord.

Justin Is it? I must be losing track of time. A sign of old age. Anyway, during those three years you have served me moderately well as a page.

Nicholas I’ve tried, my lord.

Justin I think we’ll save time if we drop the "My lord" for the present.

Nicholas Yes, my … Sorry.

Justin Now I think the time is approaching for your position as page to end.

Nicholas My …!!! (On his dignity) I - I’m very sorry if I’ve failed to give satisfaction. I’ve done my best. (Softening) I’ve looked on you almost as a father - since my own …

Robert (gently) Calm yourself, Nicholas. I think you misunderstand.

Justin Yes, Nicholas. The affection is mutual, believe me. I look on you almost as a son. And I’ve decided to formalise that, and make you my legal heir. I hope you have no objection?

Nicholas I … I …

Justin Yes?

Nicholas I’m … overwhelmed, my … er, father. I don’t know what to say.

Justin That makes a change. Well, silence is consent, the lawyers say, so I’ll take it that you agree. But that leads on to something else. For reasons too complicated to go into just now, it’s essential that you marry. Soon.

Nicholas (hopefully) Yes?

Justin You’ll realise, as you must always have realised if you ever thought about it, that in your position you will have to marry a lady of noble or at least genteel status.

Nicholas Oh.

Justin So Lord Robert and I have already chosen a suitable bride for you.

Nicholas You can’t -

Justin You know very well that this is always how it’s done.

Nicholas I won’t. You can’t make me!

Justin If you’re adamantly set against it, that’s true. But it seems a little rash, to put it mildly, to refuse the lady without even knowing who she is or what she is like.

Nicholas I don’t care who or what she is. I’m already committed.

Justin Do you mean you’re secretly married already?

Nicholas No, I don’t mean that. But I’ve given her my word.

Justin Very well. You obviously can’t go back on it without her releasing you. Would you ask her to do that?

Nicholas Certainly not.

Justin And I can’t force you. But it’s extremely inconvenient. We shall have to re-think our course of action completely.

Nicholas I’m very sorry, my …

Justin Meanwhile, she’s already in the castle, and will be here in a moment. I expect you to treat her with due civility - and that’s an order.

Nicholas (sullenly) Of course.

Robert (formally) Master Nicholas Palmer, allow me to present my adopted daughter. Lady Alison Ernscar. (Quietly) Time for us to disappear, Justin.

Alison (half-emerging from the clinch, mock-severe) Nicholas Palmer, is this what you call due civility?

Nicholas What’s the matter, love?

Alison Oh, Nick, I’m so glad you’re here. I dozed off, and had such a sad dream.

Nicholas You mustn’t upset yourself, dear. You have to take care. Look, your cushions are all disarranged. Let me straighten them for you.

Alison Thank you, but there’s no need to fuss quite so much. Pregnancy’s a perfectly normal, healthy condition after all.

Nicholas I keep thinking of what happened to your mother.

Alison That was just bad luck. She was already ill, and everyone says the midwife was no good.

Nicholas Yes, I’ve heard about that.

Alison Just what have you heard?

Nicholas (uncomfortably) Well, that your father wouldn’t pay for the proper midwife, and just got an old woman in from the village.

Alison (fiercely) I was afraid so. It’s a lie!

Nicholas Sorry, I meant no offence. But how can you know?

Alison Because I believe Dad. He says he sent for the real midwife, but it was a frosty morning and on the way she slipped and broke her arm. So all he could do was to fetch old Meg from the village. She did her best, but it wasn’t good enough.

Nicholas Then how did the other story get about?

Alison He doesn’t exactly throw his money around, and I gather he’d trodden on a lot of toes with his sarcasm. The servants didn’t like him. There was a lot of malicious gossip.

Nicholas I’d have thought that Cedric and Alice would have put a stop to it. Or the Ernscars, for that matter. And the midwife’s broken arm must have been obvious enough.

Alison That could have happened later. Apparently the Ernscars were away at the time, labour had come on suddenly while Gran was visiting my aunt who was sick, and Grandad had been called out to a problem on the estate. All Lord Robert could say afterwards was that he had no reason whatsoever to doubt Dad’s word. But as he says, what chance has the truth against a lie that people want to believe?

Nicholas I see. Ironic, isn’t it, that your father should be pilloried for stinginess on one occasion when he hadn’t been.

Alison That’s life.

Nicholas But you said you had a sad dream. Would it help to tell me about it? As much as you can remember.

Alison Maybe. I’ll try. It was rather like looking into one of those paintings you told me about, only people were moving. Two of them were walking along paths in a forest. They got glimpses of each other through the trees and I knew they wanted to come together and I desperately wanted them to, but between the paths was a tangle of briars and creepers that completely barred the way. And then they came to a place where the paths were so overgrown that they had to pick their way carefully and didn’t notice that there was nothing between them but a hundred yards of brushwood. I tried to call to them that they could easily get through it, but no sound would come. After that the paths moved apart and they saw each other less and less often, but they couldn’t go back, only forward. And then the man came to a great plain of bare rock that he had to cross, and he went on for days and days, and at first there were streams of clear water, and then only dirty puddles, and then nothing at all, until at last he just sat down in despair, and that was that.

Nicholas There, there, my sweet, it was only a dream. It’s over now.

Alison But what does it mean?

Nicholas I don’t suppose it means anything at all. Just something going on in your mind.

Alison (with a touch of her usual spirit) So what goes on in my mind is nothing at all, is it?

Nicholas That’s better. No, I meant that it doesn’t mean anything outside. It just reflects what you were thinking. Perhaps of what might have happened if we hadn’t been able to come together. But we did get through that brushwood. Someone did manage to call to us -

Alison I wonder who.

Nicholas Who knows? Cedric, perhaps, putting in a good word with their lordships?

Alison No, he’d never interfere like that. Not his place, he’d say.

Nicholas Well, thank you, whoever it is. (After a pause.) Funny things, dreams.

Alison Aren’t they?

Nicholas I remember one I had once. It was soon after Lord Robert had sent me off to help you make up the time I’d wasted, encouragement rather than the opposite. I thought that everything might turn out all right for us, but then the bishop said that much as they might have wished it in an ideal world, the world was in fact anything but ideal and I’d do better to forget the whole idea.

Alison Do you think he meant it - that he might have wished it for us?

Nicholas I’m sure of it. After all, look what happened afterwards.

Alison That was part of their own scheming.

Nicholas Yes, but they didn’t have to go about it that way. Anyway, that’s beside the point. I took ages getting to sleep that night, and when I did, of course I dreamed about you - that we were walking together in a garden, but knew that it might well be for the last time. And I was desolate about it. Then the picture changed, still in the garden, but the woman was quite different.

Alison (teasing) Oh yes? So your fancies were wandering already.

Nicholas No, it wasn’t like that at all. I wasn’t in the least attracted to her. She was a good ten years too old, for a start. And dressed in a very peculiar way.

Alison Foreign?

Nicholas Not like anything I’ve seen, in life or in pictures. Completely different. Rather immodest, I’d have said, only I knew somehow that it was just the way of her people and there was nothing wanton about her. She was walking away from me, but suddenly turned with a quite dazzling smile.

Alison A come hither?

Nicholas No, nothing at all like that. Almost a motherly smile. I thought she was saying "Don’t worry, it’s going to be all right. I know." Very emphatically. And I believed her. After that I slept like a log. And the next day we were betrothed. (A long pause.) Cedric and Alice are very fond of you, aren’t they?

Alison Yes, and I of them. Why do you mention it just now?

Nicholas They’re bound to miss you.

Alison I suppose they will.

Nicholas I’ve been thinking. You remember that painting of you that I started?

Alison Of course.

Nicholas Well, it isn’t very good, to put it mildly, but I could work it up a bit. Do you think they’d like to have it? Nowhere near like having you back with them, I’m afraid, but better than nothing.

Alison Oh, Nicholas, what a lovely idea! I’m sure they’d be delighted.

John Oh, there you are. Are you all right? I was a bit worried with your missing breakfast.

Anne I couldn’t get to sleep for hours. Over-tired, I expect. Then when I did I slept through the alarm.

John Probably do you good.

Anne I dare say. John, while I was tossing and turning, I did a lot of thinking.

John That’s probably what kept you awake.

Anne Maybe. But it had to be done.

John What’s worrying you?

Anne Look, how long have we been going out together?

John Must be a couple of years now. Yes, easily that. What of it?

Anne It’s been very nice, and your people have been marvellous, but we don’t seem to be getting anywhere.

John Well, I did ask if you’d like to come to bed with me, but you didn’t want to.

Anne John, please be serious, for once in a while.

John Sorry. I’ll try.

Anne Actually, you were quite wrong just then. When you asked, I was seriously tempted. But it wouldn’t have been right.

John Then why -

Anne Let me finish, please. This is difficult enough without interruptions. Understand, I did want you. More than almost anything else. I’m not saying sex isn’t important. It is; far too important to treat casually.

John It could have become a stable relationship.

Anne Not good enough, John. I’m not a horse. No, what I want is "to have and to hold, for better or worse, till death us do part" and all that. The full works. If you can’t or won’t give it to me, then I’m very sorry, dear, but I don’t think I can bear to go on as we are.

John (after a long pause) Good lord!

Anne Is that all you have to say?

John Well, no, but I was just stunned.

Anne Why? Is it such a novel idea?

John Far from it. But when you turned down the proposition, so many months ago, I thought it meant you wanted only a platonic friendship. I was scared.

Anne Scared? Of me?

John Yes. Silly, isn’t it? I wanted to marry you, but I was afraid to push it in case I lost you altogether. It happened once before. I was terrified you’d say "No."

Anne (flinging herself at him, laughing with relief) Idiot!

Helen Oh, I’m sorry, did I come in at an awkward moment?

John (disentangling himself) No, Mother, you came in at exactly the right moment. Anne and I have just decided to get engaged.

Helen Anne dear! I’m delighted. Thrilled. I’ve been waiting for this for ages. What on earth kept you so long?

Anne Just a silly misunderstanding. All cleared up now.

Helen I must go and tell Geoffrey. Oh, I’m forgetting what I came in for. You’ve driven everything else right out of my head.

John What was it?

Helen You remember we were talking yesterday about Tunstall church?

John Yes?

Helen You thought Anne might be interested to see it. I remembered during the night that we picked up a pamphlet there some time ago. It’s probably tucked into one of the guide books. (Searching) Here it is. Now I must go and give Geoffrey the good news.

John He probably won’t think it is. You’re sure to want a complete new outfit.

Helen And for once I know he’ll be delighted to cough up. (Exit)

Anne What’s this about the church? It sounds much too far away to visit from here.

John Not the Staffordshire Tunstall. A village about twenty miles away - even on these roads not a difficult drive.

Anne What’s so special about it?

John It’s a very old foundation. Parts of it are twelfth century - not much of that left, admittedly. Here, you may as well read it for yourself.

Anne (reading selectively and initially without great interest) "Baptistry - some original stonework - nave glass destroyed under the Commonwealth, replaced early nineteenth century - the tower - chantry chapel - " John! Listen to this!

John What is it?

Anne "The pride of the church is the late fifteenth century chantry chapel, endowed in 1470 by a Lady Alison Palmer of whom little is otherwise known. By chance an almost complete copy of the endowment document came to light in 1950, stipulating that a Mass be sung annually on the fifteenth day of April in perpetuity for the repose of the souls of her beloved husband Nicholas Palmer, knight, and of her father" - this is it, John - "Thomas Miller of Ernscar." So that’s what happened to Alison Miller.

John Well, I’ll be …! It certainly looks like it.

Anne (continuing to read) "The graves of Alison, her three sons and their wives, were just outside the south wall of the chapel, although all traces were obliterated by Parliamentary troops who kept horses in the churchyard during the Civil War. Sir Nicholas himself is believed to have been lost at sea while returning from a diplomatic mission to Flanders." So he was evidently a person of some consequence.

John Yes. Our Alison seems to have done all right for herself after all.

Anne Except for losing her husband like that.

John Well, if he was roughly the same age as her, he’d be about fifty by then. Not a bad age for the time.

Anne Oh, I say, this is a bit off. "The annual Masses were of course discontinued at the Reformation."

John Not much choice, I imagine.

Anne No, but they might have shown some shame at accepting the endowment but defaulting on the condition.

John Well into the next century. There’d been quite a good run. Well, do you fancy seeing the church?

Anne Oh yes, we’ll have to, now. Can we take a copy of the painting? I’m sure they’d like to have it.

John Good suggestion. I’ll scan it into Dad’s computer and run off a few prints. Then on the way we can call at the jeweller’s. Take a look at some rings.

Anne (giving him a squeeze) Lovely. And there’s something else I want to do.

John What’s that?

Anne Find a church that does have Masses for the dead, and leave an offering for Alison Palmer’s intentions. On April 15^th for the next ten years. I can’t quite run to perpetuity.

John Nice idea. Come on.

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