BETTY'S WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS

FOREWORD

	BETTY'S WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS was my first stage play.  The setting is a small country town between the two World Wars, when living was still harsh for many people, the Salvation Army providing the only loving support for many in real distress.

	But - children ran free, in safety.  They knew the seasons, from broad beans to mistletoe, the names of trees, wild flowers, what was edible and what wasn't.  They knew every bird that flew, every fish in the sea, in the river.  They lived off land and sea - a shop-bought cake was a blot on the character (although tinned pineapple was conceded as exotic birthday fare).  Men dug, sawed, hauled, mended shoes.  Women washed, dried, aired, ironed, scrubbed, cooked, mended - and went out to work as servants to make enough to live on.  Relationships were face to face, feuds and all, and no-one had a car or a telephone.  Everyone walked, or rode a bike.

	And everyone went to the theatre once a year.  To the pantomime - which was utterly and stupendously wonderful.  There was so much light - colour!  Everything shone, sparkled.  The Dame always had a mystifyingly deep voice and was funny.  There were tricks and jokes and pies pushed rather worryingly into people's faces.  The story always came out right, and the only boring moments were when everything stopped for a song.  At our little church school we did plays too.  I remember standing in the school playground watching tinsel-edged tarlatan wings being fixed to the fairies' backs, and the strong smell of the Leichner sticks - with a strange feeling of familiarity, of coming home.

	So, writing a play for children seemed the way to begin.  With a big cast, lots of adventures, music, jokes and scene changes.  Ignorance is bliss.

	But I was fortunate.  The young David Aukin, as his first producing venture, was mounting a repertory of plays at the Cockpit Theatre over Christmas, and needed a show for the matinees.  The fair, fragile Yvonne Antrobus played Betty and looked 14 (she was married and a mother).  We had funky music from a trio who also played roles, and we played in the round - so close to the audience that the Dragon's four-year-old son ran onstage in protest when his father's tail was stamped on.

	It was the best of entrées - a group of lively, irreverent actors, inventive, trained and talented, solving the problems of a beginner's text.  The actress playing the Queen said one morning: `I hope you've got something else on the stocks, you're going to miss all this when we stop.  Get your pen out.'  It was good advice and I took it.  To Ann Mitchell, my thanks.

BETTY'S WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS

by Pam Gems

Copyright © Pam Gems
Pam Gems is hereby identified as author of this work in accordance with section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The author has asserted her moral rights. All rights whatsoever in this play are strictly reserved and application for performance etc. should be made before rehearsal to Rose Cobbe, United Agents, 12-26 Lexington Street, London W1F 0LE, UK. Tel: +44 (0) 20 3214 0800.
http://unitedagents.co.uk/agents/rose-cobbe/. Assistant: Dan Usztan. Email: dusztan@unitedagents.co.uk Tel: +44 (0) 20 3214 0873. No performance may be given unless a licence has been obtained.

CHARACTERS

		BETTY, a poor girl

		MAJOR FOSTER, of the Salvation Army

		THE MOTHER

		MRS SPRING-IN-WINTER
	
		LONICERA FRAGRANTISSIMA

		SIR HORSE CHESTNUT

		PRINCE PETER

		PRINCE ARTHUR

		LADY FAY

		LADY SELINA

		THE QUEEN

		PATRICIA

		ANGELINA

		THE CAPTAIN OF THE GOTHS

		A DRAGON

		CHILDREN, MEMBERS OF THE MOTHERS' UNION, SALVATION ARMY, SOLDIERS, DANCERS and GOTHS

BETTY'S WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS

The settings can be what you will.  If naturalistic, they would comprise a terrace of modest houses, with similar rows suggested behind, each with a lighted Christmas tree in the window, forming a pattern...up to a deep blue sky and the evening star.  The street is part of a small square, with a church porch down right.  In the foreground a MAN sells hot potatoes.  They are real, and so is the smell.  It is snowing lightly and PEOPLE pass, heads down, carrying parcels.  A laughing FAMILY crosses, carrying a goose and a Christmas tree.  Their clothes are Early Twenties, long skirts, soft hair low on the brow, the CHILDREN in low-belted coats and large felt hats.

Out of the vestry come the VERGER and the LOCAL BOBBY.  They set up a trestle table, panting and grumpy, and load up large loaves of bread, tin-shaped.

BETTY enters with an enormous bundle of washing.  She is about thirteen, an unprepossessing sight in reach-me-down clothes and cast-off boots.  Her thin mousy hair is short, parted at the side with a gaunt hair slide.

An ERRAND BOY passes.  He may be on a bike, his basket laden, or running, the basket on his arm.  He sends her flying.

			BETTY
		(Sprawled over her bundle)  Hey...look where you're going.

Her voice is hoarse, adenoidal and rustic.  The BOY'S answer is inaudible, but sounds rude.

			BETTY
		I'll scrag you too!

The smell of the potatoes is irresistible and she closes, but the POTATO MAN waves her away irritably.  She approaches the bread table, and watches the loaves being  piled.

			BETTY
		Shall I help you, Mr Thistlethwaite?

			VERGER
		Out of my way, girl.  Six o'clock we gives out the bread and not before.

			BOBBY
		Ah, they all expects to be waited on nowadays, they has too much done for them.  (He stands, his thumbs in his belt.)  When I was a boy it was Work!  We knew what it was all about...up at five, cows milked by six...hard work!  Work never harms you!

He crosses, waddling importantly.)

			BETTY
		(Sotto voce)  What a whopper!

He turns, suspicious.  She humps her bundle circumspectly to a door and knocks.  No reply.  She thunders.  A window flies up and a MAID looks out.

			MAID
		(Bawls)  Who is it?

			BETTY
		(Sing-song, her trade call)  Washing, miss!

			MAID
		Leave it on the step.  (She slams down the window.)

			BETTY
		(Same sing-song)  Shilling, please!

She knocks again.  The window flies up.

			MAID
		What is it now?

			BETTY
		Me Mum'll give me the copper stick if I don't get the shilling!

			MAID
		Oh, wait a minute.

She returns to the window and throws down the shilling crossly.

			BETTY
		The lady gives me a penny...twopence at Christmas!

			MAID
		And threepence for cheek, I suppose!  (Bang goes the window.)

The CHILDREN are gathering for the bread.

			VERGER
		Come on, come on, you lot.  We haven't got all night.

			BETTY
		(To rough boy)  Get out of it.

He pushes her.  She makes a face but steers clear of the bully.  A well-dressed MAN enters with two little GIRLS in fur-trimmed hats and muffs.

			MAN
		Two nice hot potatoes, please!

			GIRL 1
		Thank you, Daddy!

			GIRL 2
		Scrumptious!  We'd better keep our gloves on!

They squeal and giggle.  BETTY mimics them soundlessly.

			POTATO MAN
		(All unction)  There you are, my dears...mind your fingers!  Thank you, sir, thank you indeed!  And a happy Christmas to you!

			MAN
		And to you!

			THE GIRLS
		Happy Christmas!  Happy Christmas!  

They go.

			BETTY
		Go on, give us a littlun.

			POTATO MAN
		Buzz off.

			BETTY
		You ain't going to sell all those, they'll only be wasted.

			MAN
		Clear off out of it before I calls the bobby.

			VERGER
		Where's my list, who's had my list, put that down boy, oh my dear, what a lot of riff-raff.

			BOBBY
		You boys behave yourselves or you'll get your heads clouted.  Take your loaves and go on home.

			VERGER
		Anderson...

			ANDERSON
		Yessir.

			VERGER
		Two loaves for Anderson.

			ANDERSON
		Thankee sir.

			BOBBY
		You tell your father Mr Peach wants his horse back.  (Holds the BOY by the ear)...do you hear me, boy?

			ANDERSON
		(Going)  Yessir!

			VERGER
		Arsint...is it four for Arsint?

			ARSINT
		Thank you Mr Thwithlethwaite!  (He makes off, sinking his teeth ravenously into the top loaf.)

			VERGER
		Bellamy.  Where's Bellamy?

A small, shy GIRL is pushed forwards.  She hides the loaves under her shawl, ashamed.

			ROUGH BOY
		Go on...whose father's in the workhouse?

BETTY moves so quickly...managing a nasty kick.  He turns, twisting her arm.  The POLICEMAN looms and he melts.

			VERGER
		Butler...two loaves.  Butler...stop kicking the table, boy...they do want to irritate you, that's all they want, Butler!

BETTY, stumbles through.

			VERGER
		Look at those hands, girl!  Mother supposed to be a washerwoman, pity she don't start on her kids!

			BETTY
		(Shouts)  You leave my mother alone!

She leaves, to jeers.  The VERGER looks up at the snow and he and the POLICEMAN carry the table into the vestry, `helped' by the children.  BETTY makes off with her loaves, head down.  The ROUGH BOY, a loaf under each arm, dodges from the church, trips her from behind and makes off with one of her loaves.

			BETTY
		Hey, give it back!  You rooking thief, give it back!

			POTATO MAN
		Serves you right.

			BETTY
		What for?  I haven't done nothing!  He pinched my loaf, my Mum'll murder me!

			MAN
		Nah, kids.

			BETTY
		Yeah, kids!  If it wasn't for us kids nobody else would buy your rotten old spuds, they're all last year's stuff only fit for pigs!

			MAN
		You shut your yaphole, I don't take any notice of squits like you...(Complete change of tone to the greasy)...hullo, Mrs!

A WOMAN has entered with a SMALL BOY who has a chamber pot stuck on his head.  However, he is wearing his best clothes, and snivelling.

			WOMAN
		Here's the potato man, Albie...come on, I'll buy you a spud.  Look at him, Mr Mould...'tis a pitiful thing to happen to a boy, I say.

			POTATO MAN
		What ever's the matter with your Albie?  What's he done to himself?

			BETTY
		Anybody normal could see what he've done!

			WOMAN
		I feel so ashamed - be different if it was a saucepan, or a vase...a vase would be respectable!  His father should have brought him...I can't be seen on the streets with a object like this...suppose a policeman saw us!  I didn't go into wedlock to be seen on the streets with a pot on a boy's head.

			BETTY
		He can't help it.

			WOMAN
		Oh hullo Bet well I wouldn't like a child of mine to see such a sight (whispers to the man) ... especially a little girl...

			BETTY
		(Aside)  What am I supposed to be?  (Aloud)  Put his cap on, then it won't show so much.  There!  It hardly notices!  (Sotto voce) Give us a bite.

			WOMAN
		That's better.  Albie! (as he holds out his potato)  Don't be so filthy...he don't mean it, dear, he's a boy.

BETTY is left with her mouth open as they scurry off.  The MAN begins to pack up his stand.

			BETTY
		Go on...Give us a littlun...hapenny for that 'un...

			MAN
		You show us your money - then you'll get him.

She proffers a halfpenny.  He picks over his potatoes, finding a smallish one.  Decides it is too big and picks out a smaller.

			BETTY
		Wah, look at that.  I need me glasses to see that, if a gnat laid that she'd come off the nest.

			MAN
		Well, if you don't want it -
She pops it in her mouth as he holds out his hand.  It is hot and she hops about, throwing the halfpenny on the ground for him to grovel.  Which he does, diligently.

			BETTY
		Go on, Mouldie, look for it!  Oooh...ah, it ain't half hot...my tongue!  Bums up, Mouldie!

			MAN
		(Shocked)  Don't you be so rude!!  I'll tell your mother on you, using a word like that!

			BETTY
		Like what?

			MAN
		You knows what you said.  I ain't repeating it.

			BETTY
		I never said nothing.

			MAN
		Then you'm a liar.

			BETTY
		(To audience)  I never said nothing, did I?

			MAN
		Yes you did.  You said -

			BETTY
		What did I say?  What did I say?  (To the audience)  I never said nothing, did I?  What did I say?

If the children in the audience say the word, then this gives the POTATO MAN his affronted exit.  If not:

			MAN
		You said Bum...oh! - I've said it meself now!  (Goes.)

He goes off, spitting nastily at BETTY as he passes.  BETTY's spirits sink.

			BETTY
		All right for you!  My Mum's going to kill me!  Only one loaf...(She looks down at its brother, which now has a pecked appearance as she has been absently picking at it from time to time)...and he looks as if a donkey's put his head over the hedge and had a bite.  Perhaps if I put a bit of dirt on it'll look like the crust. 
			BETTY  (Cont'd)
		(She rubs the loaf in the gutter.)  That's better.  (She takes another look, and is less sure.)  I could say I was run over and the wheels just missed me and went over the loaf!

She turns to go, reinforced by her story, and is caught up in the stream of the SALVATION ARMY and FOLLOWERS, with lantern and small band.  She lurches out of the way and draws close.
			THE MAJOR
		Right friends.  While Shepherds Watched.

			BOY
		We've had that twice Mr Foster.

The MAJOR gives him a mild, quelling look, and lifts his hands to give the beat.  BETTY dodges, as if expecting a blow.

			MAJOR
		Don't be frightened child.  I'm your friend.  What's your name?

			BETTY
		(Stentorian school-register reply)  Betty Butler sir.

			MAJOR
		Dear Lord, we bid welcome to this poor child, who comes to worship Thee, here's a penny Betty, worship the Lord.  Where do you live?

			WOMAN ONE
		The mother's a widow, lives in Pound Lane.

			BOY
		Hah!  Stink Alley!

			WOMAN TWO
		Feller went to a stick in six months, galloping consumption.  Big man before he catched it -

			WOMAN ONE
		Not at the finish.  You could see his face, when you went past the workhouse.

			WOMAN TWO
		Sitting at the window.

			WOMAN ONE
		Crying.

			WOMAN TWO
		Tears running down his face.

			WOMAN ONE
		For his kids, you see.

			WOMAN TWO
		They wouldn't let them in, well you can't have kids in the workhouse running about -

			WOMAN ONE
		- making their noise.

			MAJOR
		Do you remember your father Betty?

			BETTY
		(Without expression)  Yes sir.
The MAJOR looks at her.

			MAJOR
		While Shepherds Watched...(He lifts his hands.)

They sing the carol.

			MAJOR
		Now friends, we move on to the mission for a short service.  Would you like to come, Betty, and worship the Lord.  There's a sausage supper after!

			BETTY
		I gotta take the bread home sir.

			BOY
		That's Church of England bread, Mr Foster.  That's a charity loaf she got there.

			WOMAN
		(Shocked) C of E?

Shocked disapproval from the group.  The MAJOR waves a restraining hand.  He puts his hand on BETTY's shoulder.

			MAJOR
		All roads lead to the Lord, friends.

			BETTY
		I only goes for the bread.

			MAJOR
		Take it home, my dear.

			BETTY
		Now for it.

She begins to move off.  The SALVATION ARMY sing "God Rest You, Merry Gentlemen", and move off still singing, growing fainter.

Silence.  Half-Stage.  BETTY crosses to an almost paintless door.  She listens, then lifts the latch very gently.  Just as she has successfully opened the door it is wrenched from within and she is yanked out of sight.

			MOTHER
		(We see nothing but the whirl of an old shawl)  Get in!

There is the brandish of a copper stick, the door slams, and we hear BETTY's hoarse screams and shouts.

SCENE TWO

BETTY's home.  The room is squalid, with damp walls and peeling paper.  There is a tiny range, a deal table, chairs with no backs, and washing everywhere.  TWO SMALL BOYS sit at table, awaiting their tea.  BETTY sniffs in a corner.  Her MOTHER attacks the loaf with a large knife.

			MOTHER
		Don't think you're getting any!  You've eaten one loaf, you're not getting another!

			BETTY
		He took it.  I told you.

			MOTHER
		(Hissing over her, knife in hand.)  More lies!

			BETTY
		No, honest!

The MOTHER suddenly collapses.  She droops, ashamed of herself and deep in depression.  She moves away.

			MOTHER
		(Mutters) Sit down if you want something.

			BETTY
		(Cowed)  I don't want nothing.

			MOTHER
		No...She's going to a party.

			BETTY
		What?

BETTY looks up.  She has conveniently forgotten.

			MOTHER
		You're going to the Honeywells.

			BETTY
		No, I'm not.  I said I wasn't going.

			MOTHER
		Someone else can feed you for a change.  See if they can keep up with it.

			BETTY
		I'm not going.

			MOTHER
		You are, and you'd better hurry up about it.

			BETTY
		(A fierce howl)  I can't go.  I got nothing to wear.  You can't go to a party without a party dress!

			MOTHER
		(Tight)  You've got a party dress.

			BETTY
		That's not a party dress...her mother made it for the carnival...it's made of paper!  You can't wear a paper dress in the middle of winter.

			MOTHER
		You'll do as you're told -

			BETTY
		It's an old cast-off carnival dress -

			MOTHER
		And you can stop that -

			BETTY
		She wore it for Bopeep!

			MOTHER
		(Shouting) - and get yourself washed!

			BETTY
		I've told you.  I'm not going.  Who ever heard of going to a Christmas party in a paper dress...they'd all laugh at me!  All very well for you, you're not the one's going to get laughed at.

			MOTHER
		(Quiet and tight)  I've told you, and you'd better hurry up, I shan't tell you again -

			BETTY
		(Very brave)  I'm not going.

Her MOTHER moves like lightening.  She leaps on BETTY, hurls her out of the room, and a bucket after her.  The bucket clanks, there is a moment's silence, then BETTY hammers on the door.

			BETTY
		(Off...pleading)  Mum...Mu-um!

The MOTHER eats, stiffly.  The BOYS watch.  She gets them some rice pudding from an old, burned enamel bowl.  They fall on it, eating until their plates shine.  BETTY staggers in with a bucket of water.  She pours some into an enamel bowl and tops it up from the kettle to take the chill off.  She washes in the corner.  The BOYS whisper.

			BETTY
		(Timid)  Did you do me a clean petticoat?  This one stinks.

The MOTHER sits, too exhausted to answer.

BETTY puts on the old, sagging garment.  One of the BOYS cackles, but withers in his MOTHER's glare.

			MOTHER
		(Rises, takes something from the cupboard)  Here -

			BETTY
		What?

			MOTHER
		What does it look like?  Socks.  Ankle socks.  You can't wear woollen stockings with a party dress.  These cost sevenpence farthing.

			BETTY
		But it's cold out, Mum!

			MOTHER
		And how far away are they, not more than half a mile, you can run, can't you?  I never had white ankle socks!

			BETTY
		All very well for you, stuck in here in the warm...

BETTY puts on the socks.

			BETTY
		Can I lend your shoes?

The MOTHER groans but takes them off.  BETTY is pleased...The shoes have a slight heel.  The effect is appalling.  Suddenly she remembers the dress and her spirits sag.

			BETTY
		(With great gallantry)  All right...where is it?

Her MOTHER fetches a paper bag...takes out the dress.  She holds it up, and her face softens utterly.  It is a blue paper dress, the skirt formed of three gathered flounces.  There is tinsel at the waist and neck.  The MOTHER is quite enchanted by it...even holds it up against her...the blue suits her own fairness.  She helps BETTY carefully into the dress...BETTY flinches at her first touch, but then submits when she realises that it is not to be a clout.  She stands still as her MOTHER fastens the back and smooths out the skirt.  The dress is slightly too small.

			BETTY
		It would have to be blue!

			MOTHER
		It's a beautiful colour.  It looks very nice.

			BETTY
		Just as well I can't see meself.

She goes to the mantlepiece, finds a piece of comb and begins to tug at her hair.

			MOTHER
		Oh come here...

She combs her daughter's hair.  BETTY responds to this.  She begins to relax and preen.  Whereupon her MOTHER jerks her cruelly.  She howls.

			MOTHER
		Oh finish it yourself...she won't keep still.  What's the matter now?

			BETTY
		Lost me slide.

She gropes about on the floor.

			BOY
		She'll never get there.

			BETTY
		(Vicious...bending over him, a microcosm of her mother)  Don't you worry, four eyes...I'm having jelly and cake, it's more than you're getting so buzz off!

She fixes her slide.

			MOTHER
		Let's have a look at you.

They regard each other, the faded, once pretty woman, and her plain child.

			MOTHER
		My God, what does she look like?  Look at her petticoat hanging down, lift it up...do something...(as BETTY tucks up her petticoat) ...you're old enough to look after yourself, I've got my hands full enough -

			BETTY
		So have I!  I'm supposed to go to school, when I get there.  I do half the cleaning up, and the shopping, and pinching wood, and picking coal, and humping washing, and getting our two off in the mornings, and listening to your moans every day, I've had enough of it, what's more I never ate that loaf and you knows it, she just wants an excuse to belt into me the mean devil -
Her MOTHER clouts her and scuffles her out, throwing her coat after her.  She bolts the door.  BETTY gives it a couple of hefty kicks from outside then her footsteps recede.  The MOTHER pants, at first vibrant with victory.  Then she subsides at the table.  Her shoulders fall, she begins to weep, watched by the silent appalled BOYS.

SCENE THREE

Outside the Honeywell house.  This can be the same as Scene One, or a Half-Scene, if there are difficulties in setting the following interior.

There are happy sounds from within, and the window is lit and decorated.

A BOY and GIRL arrive and are welcomed.  A pause, then TWO GIRLS.  And then a little GIRL with her MOTHER...all the CHILDREN are nicely dressed with their party shoes in their hands, with hairbands, and gloves, capes and shawls.  The last WOMAN is a rounded farmer's wife.  She kisses her daughter in the open doorway.

			FARMER'S WIFE
		Be good, Muriel.

			MURIEL
		I will!

MURIEL goes inside.  The FARMER'S WIFE leaves.  A pause.  BETTY enters, with hunched shoulders and dragging feet.  She reaches the door and hangs about.  She makes to pass on, then returns for a look in the lighted window.  Her mouth makes an "Ooh" shape, as she is awed by the magnificence inside.  She goes up the steps and lifts her hand to the knocker; but cannot bring herself to touch it.  She sits on the step and slumps against the door.  It opens.

			MRS HONEYWELL
		Hullo, it's Betty!  I thought I saw someone at the window.  Come in my dear, no need to be shy, we've just started the games.

BETTY follows her in.  The door closes.

SCENE FOUR

The Party.  The door is the quintessence of cosiness.  A fire burns, a black cat purrs on a cosy armchair, a kettle sings on the hob.  The room is festooned with paper chains, and there is plenty of holly and mistletoe.  The table, laden with jellies, cakes and trifle, is pushed back from its normal central position, and gets many an admiring glance from the children.  A game is just over and a BOY holds up a parcel in excitement.

			BOY
		I've got it...I've got it.

He tears open the wrappings, surrounded by noisy, excited children.  It is a money box, in the shape of a red pillar box.  There is a fight among THE BOYS...and BETTY...for its possession.  THE THREE WOMEN move in to calm them down.

			MRS HONEYWELL
		Now children, now children...I think you better all sit down.

			MRS BEECH
		Sit down, everybody...let's have a little bit of quiet.  I think we'll have some music, Faith, don't you?

			MRS FINCH
		Good idea.

			MRS BEECH
		(With a greasy smile)  What about Phyllis playing us one of her little pieces?

Stifled groans from the CHILDREN.  MRS HONEYWELL expands, her PHYLLIS hangs back coyly.

			MRS BEECH
		'Twon't do them no harm to bide quiet for a bit.

BETTY gives her a scowl.

			MRS HONEYWELL
		Come on then, Phyllis.  Mr Pooley says she's doing very well.

PHYLLIS sits at the piano and gives an appalling rendition of a little classical piece...Boccherini.  The Reprise gets worse and founders altogether.

			MRS HONEYWELL
		Very nice, my love...course, that's her new piece.

			MRS BEECH
		She wants more practice.

			MRS FINCH
		It's coming on, Phyllis.  You all right, Betty?

			BETTY
		Stomach ache.

			MRS BEECH
		(Aside)  Been eating too much.
			MRS FINCH
		(Aside)  Not used to it poor thing.
		(Aloud)  I tell you what, Arnie can give us a song.

So ARNOLD comes forward, quite composed, as befits a local chorister and soloist, and sings verses of "In the Bleak Mid-Winter".  The young CURATE enters quietly in the middle of this and is greeted by MRS HONEYWELL.  Applause.  BETTY is lost...affected by the singing.

			MRS BEECH
		Cheer up, Betty!

The GROWN-UPS laugh.  BETTY is startled and moves away.

			CURATE
		I'm afraid Betty has sensibilities.

			MRS HONEYWELL
		Oh she's very sensible, Mr March.  Just as well, poor thing.  Of course, I don't let Phyllis play with her usually but, well, I felt sorry for the child humping that washing about.  I don't suppose she's even been to a private party before.

			MRS FINCH
		We had to lend her a dress, you know...

			MRS BEECH
		Mothers' Union to the rescue, as usual...

The CURATE blenches.  But the CHILDREN surge round, wanting another game.

			CHILDREN
		Let's play Blind Man's Buff...can we play Blind Man's Buff...Blind Man's Buff...

The CURATE retires with a cup of tea and a large piece of cake.  MRS HONEYWELL fetches a scarf and binds a little girl's eyes.  She blunders about amid happy screaming and grabs a boy.

			GIRL
		It's Wally!

WALLY is the Blind Man.  He grabs a GIRL, pulls at her long curls.

			WALLY
		(Hoarse) Gladys Warchurch!

GLADYS, eyes bound, staggers about ineffectively...but just the same manages to get her arms around ARNOLD, the beau...the way she lifts her head up she may well be cheating.

			GLADYS
		(Soft)  Arnie!

Oohs and Aahs.  ARNIE, eyes bound, is tougher than his sissified suit indicates, and leaps about galvanically, a danger to life, limb and tea table.  BETTY, getting boisterous, tries to avoid him.

			ARNOLD
		(Reaching out)  I know who it is!

BETTY jerks away.  There is a horrible ripping sound and the dress parts, bodice from skirt and most of the side seam, displaying the awful petticoat.

A shocked silence.

BETTY is too stunned to speak.  Then she bursts out of the room.  We hear the front door slam.

			MRS FINCH
		She's run off!

			MRS BEECH
		That lovely dress!

MRS HONEYWELL exits to hall and back again.

			MRS HONEYWELL
		Go after her Win.  She's left her coat.

			MRS BEECH
		Oh she'll be back.  Whatever will Mrs Mcnally say?

			MRS FINCH
		(To the CURATE)  That was all done by hand...I wouldn't have lent it.

			MRS BEECH
		A decent child would know better.

			CURATE
		Ladies...(But they turn on him and he wilts.)  Perhaps if you served tea now.

THE WOMEN respond.  They call "Tea now" to the CHILDREN.  The CURATE assists them to pull the table to the centre of the room.  The CHILDREN are sorted out and seated and the crackers are pulled and the funny hats put on and the whistles whistled and the mottoes read across the table while THE WOMEN serve the lemonade and the jellies and blancmange.  The fire blazes and the kettle sings.

SCENE FIVE

Half-Stage.  BETTY staggers on, panting heavily, having run herself out.  She is on a rise, above the town, the lights below twinkle.  She sinks down beneath a tree, chafing her arms, and lets out a loud, prolonged groan against the cold.  There is the sharp crack of a twig and she jumps to her feet, alert.  She listens.  All is still.

She looks down at the ragged dress.  And groans again.

			BETTY
		Oh-h...crumbs!  Oh-h crumbs!

She goes.

SCENE SIX

In the Woods.  Trees and snow.

BETTY enters.

			BETTY
		Please God, help me, I'm lost!  I won't do it again, I promise, I'll be good.  (She stumbles and recovers.)  I can't go home like this - (she looks at the torn dress.)  (She tries to move on, but she is exhausted.  She crouches against a tree.)  Please God, send somebody to help me...oh no! (as she tears her dress again.)

The snow thickens.  The fragments of blue paper are mingled with the snow-flakes, which now obliterate the scene.

SCENE SEVEN

The same, but different.  Carpets of spring flowers underfoot, and the trees are green.  Warm, soft light, everything glows.

A WOMAN steps out of the forest and regards BETTY, lying asleep.  She is heavily built, with black boots, a white bun under a bonnet, brown velvet fitted jacket and a sprigged skirt with flounces.  Her cheeks are rosy.

			MRS SPRING-IN-WINTER
		Wake up...wake up!

			BETTY
		What?

			MRS SPRING
		Do you want a golden guinea, or don't you?  (BETTY sits up with a jolt.)  That usually does the trick.  Let me look at you.  Mmmmm.

BETTY looks down, in surprise.  She is wearing a neat brown dress with an orange bodice, a shawl, buckled shoes, and her hair is modestly curled about her shoulders.  She touches it in amazement.

			BETTY
		Am I asleep?

			MRS SPRING
		Certainly not.  Have a drink of water.  (She produces it from nowhere in a silver cup.)  Drink up, straight from the spring and soft as butter.

			BETTY
		It freezes your teeth.

			MRS SPRING
		(Takes from her basket a large leaf and a silver spoon.)  Here...wheat germ, raspberries, crushed oats and yoghurt.  We must get rid of those spots.

She moves about as BETTY crouches, eating obediently and with relish.  Each time she touches a tree it bursts into bloom.  She turns, and regards BETTY's awestruck face.

			MRS SPRING
		There.  When you can do that you'll be grown up.  Until then you're not very interesting.  don't forget that.

			BETTY
		No miss.

			MRS SPRING
		And don't call me miss.  My name is Mrs Spring-in-Winter.  Here...a drop of goat's milk...

She hands BETTY a large snail's shell.  BETTY drinks...then makes to lick her dish, catches MRS SPRING's eye and refrains.

			MRS SPRING
		Have you finished?  Good.  Now...first lesson.  What is the first flower of spring?

			BETTY
		(Eager)  Snowdrop.

			MRS SPRING
		Wrong.  Eranthis hyemalis...the winter aconite.  Bright as a buttercup, likes a bit of shade, don't plant too deep, and try not to disturb.  Next...

			BETTY
		What?  Oh...crocus.

			MRS SPRING
		Well?

			BETTY
		Then daffodils, tulips, lilac...ah...roses, herbaceous, asters, dahlias and chrysanths.

			MRS SPRING
		Well, at least she knows her seasons.  What's your favourite flower, girl?

			BETTY
		White violets...primroses...and sweet peas.

			MRS SPRING
		What about delphiniums?

			BETTY
		Too big.

			MRS SPRING
		Lupins?

			BETTY
		I don't know.

			MRS SPRING
		Precisely.  A bank manager's flower.  (Cunning)  And what about those enormous pink and white striped camellias that grow against the manor wall?

			BETTY
		(Defensive and unsure)  They don't have no scent.

			MRS SPRING
		Hmm, you're fond of saying what you think.  Still, she has sensibility.

			BETTY
		What's that?
			MRS SPRING
		It means that you mustn't waste time feeling sorry for yourself.  And don't over-eat.  Your sort get fat and miserable, remember, fat means miserable so don't be taken in by jolly jokers.  Have you got your book?

BETTY looks.  There is a notebook and pencil attached to her skirt.  She brandishes it triumphantly.

			MRS SPRING
		(Approaching a modest, twiggy plant covered with sweet, waxy, yellow bells)  Chimonanthus fragrans...known as the wintersweet.  You must put it in good soil, with a southern aspect, and protect it from the wind.  Now.  Smell!

BETTY leans and smells the chimonanthus.  There is a lovely fragrance.

			BETTY
		Oooh!

			MRS SPRING
		What have you to say to that?

			BETTY
		It's lovely!  Sweet, but not so heavy as a lily.

MRS SPRING pats her on the head, pleased.

			MRS SPRING
		Good.  Good.  Now when you get to the palace, you'll be mocked and snubbed, that is, if anyone speaks to you at all. You must expect it.

			BETTY
		The palace?

			MRS SPRING
		Remember, people don't like strangers poking in.  That's human nature.  If you want to join you must eat what they eat, wear what they wear, be amiable, and wait your turn.

			BETTY
		I'll remember.  I'll try, anyway.  Sometimes I...speak up.

			MRS SPRING
		Ye-es.  Well, if anyone makes a joke...laugh.

			BETTY
		Even if I don't think it's funny?

			MRS SPRING
		Try not to make a habit of it.  But it's only kindness, after all.  What's this?  (She touches a strange, Chinese tree, whose yellow fronds quiver at her touch.)  Hamamelis mollis!
			BETTY
		I beg your pardon?

			MRS SPRING
		Witch-hazel.  Make a brew of witch-hazel for the skin, it closes the pores.  Never use soap and water on the face, eat honey, never white sugar, and clean your skin with complexion milk...once, not twice or you remove the natural oils.  And don't frown.

BETTY is attracted to a clump of large white open flowers, standing in stiff, dark green leaves.

			BETTY
		Gosh, what are these?

			MRS SPRING
		Heavens, doesn't she know a Christmas rose when she sees one?  Helleborus niger - slow to flower, heavy soil, manure and leaf mould, plenty of slug bait...aha!

MRS SPRING bends quickly and rises with an enormous glistening slug.  BETTY screams.  The slug moans and expires.

			MRS SPRING
		Slugs!  Slugs!  Tam-sin!!

A large thrush enters.

			MRS SPRING
		Tam-sin...quick...slug...under my boot...

			THRUSH
		(With a wonderful trill)  Mrs Spring-in-Winter...(fibrillating her wings)  too kind...too kind...

She makes off with the slug, bowing.

			MRS SPRING
		Not at all.  (To BETTY)  Pleasant bird...gets hysterical when nesting.  I give her molasses and a touch of iron tonic, otherwise she slides...

			BETTY
		Slides?

			MRS SPRING
		She's been known to tip her eggs out of the nest...it's not funny!

			BETTY
		Specially if you was walking underneath!

She wilts under MRS SPRING's glance.

			MRS SPRING
		You do want to grow up, don't you?

			BETTY
		Oh yes yes...at least I think so...it can't be any worse than...

			MRS SPRING
		Right, well in that case, learn to keep vulgarity for the bedroom.  And now for my heart of hearts...

The trees part to reveal a glade of large pink and white blossoms, with a fragile and delicate appearance of great beauty.  Scent.

			BETTY
		Wow!  What are those?

			MRS SPRING
		RRRhodo-dendrons!

			BETTY
		Are they?  I thought they was for parks...bright pinks...and red.

			MRS SPRING
		Those are the Hybrids...nasty things for nasty people.  YOU will grow the SPECIES.

			BETTY
		Beg pardon?  The what?

			MRS SPRING
		The species!  Culled by the heroic Fortune, by brave Robert Forest, by the incomparable Kingdon-Ward from the jungles of Burma, the slopes of Yunnan, the foothills of Szechuan itself!

			BETTY
		They're lovely...lovely!

			MRS SPRING
		Here they are, my fragile fortuneis, the gentle griffithianums, auriculatums, ciliatums, the Loderis...

			BETTY
		Whoo!

			MRS SPRING
		The white and yellow blossoms from the rain forests, the musky Maddeniis, manipurenses, Edgworthiis, Lindleyis...Nuttalliis...and all scented!

			BETTY
		Gosh!

			MRS SPRING
		The Prince's name is Arthur.

			BETTY
		Arthur?

			MRS SPRING
		Arthur.  His mother was staying in Freshwater on the Isle of Wight.  Near the home of Lord Tennyson...the idylls, you know.

			BETTY
		Is he...the prince...is he - handsome?

			MRS SPRING
		No.  Rather short.  But nice grey eyes and very strong shoulders.

			BETTY
		(She can't hear enough of this fascinating subject)  Yes?

			MRS SPRING
		Inclined to asthma...

			BETTY
		Oh dear...

			MRS SPRING
		When he's crossed...

			BETTY
		And when he isn't?

			MRS SPRING
		Some sense of humour...and...

			BETTY
		Yes?

			MRS SPRING
		It's unfashionable, but you never know when it may come in handy.  He's, ahem...kindly.

			BETTY
		(A happy smile)  He's kind?

			MRS SPRING
		Kind.

			BETTY
		(Sighs, then)  What colour is his hair?

			MRS SPRING
		Mercy me, where's the sun...look at the time!  The pigs will be farrowing, and I'm due at the brick factory...good grief girl, I've better things to think about.

			BETTY
		Not very tall you said?

			MRS SPRING
		Not very.

			BETTY
		But very strong.

The flowers begin to weave their branches gently.

			BETTY
		Is he...musical?

			MRS SPRING
		He's got a good pair of lungs.

			BETTY
		Can he swim?

			MRS SPRING
		Like an eel...now look what you've done!  (A soft murmur from the trees.)  Silly things!  I can't be concerned with flowers when they get romantic...it always happens when they settle in temperate countries...do remember to stand nicely.

			BETTY
		Don't leave me!

			MRS SPRING
		Follow the celandines.  Take a bath every day, and don't serve tinned food.

			BETTY
		But I don't know anything!  I shan't be able to manage...please come back and help me...

			MRS SPRING
		(Off)  Listen to the music...

The trees dance.  BETTY wanders about, moving languidly to the murmur.

			BETTY
		Oh blow!  Just when I was getting started.  What did she say?  No tinned food, don't wash your face, grow rhododendrons and laugh at all the jokes.  And there's celandines everywhere!

She begins to wander, seeking a path.  The trees move aside for her.  She walks about the paths created for her until she reaches a clearing.  She makes to sit, but a long, tendrilly arm moves her aside.

			LONICERA
		Not on me ducky.  (Introduces himself.)  Lonicera belgica, summer-flowering.  I shouldn't be here at all really, I don't know what on earth made me take root!

			BETTY
		Gosh, you do smell nice!

			LONICERA
		Thanks, thank you...you're looking very nice yourself.

			BETTY
		I look like a robin, don't I?

			LONICERA
		Not surprising, it's his gear you're wearing.

			BETTY
		Really?

			LONICERA
		Well, you used to give him bits of crust at the window.  It all comes back to you.

			BETTY
		He came in the house once or twice, but Mum didn't like the mess he made.

			LONICERA
		And who called him Turd the Bird?

			BETTY
		It was only in fun.

			LONICERA
		Well he didn't like it.  There's nothing wrong with birdlime, you know.

			BETTY
		I never said there was.

			LONICERA
		We can't do without droppings.  So where are you off to?

			BETTY
		The palace...I think.

			LONICERA
		The palace!  Why, what's the scene there?

			BETTY
		I don't really know.

			LONICERA
		Look...ducky...if you've got ambitions...

He shakes his head.

			LONICERA
		I don't mean to be unkind...I mean, I'm not saying you're the ugly duckling, anything like that...still I know how all you girls dream about marrying the prince...

			BETTY
		I never said that.

			LONICERA
		You just happen to have heard that he's looking for a bride, I suppose.

			BETTY
		Anyway, somebody told me he wasn't all that good-looking.

			LONICERA
		Oh ho spiteful!  Don't you be so rude, miss...all princes are handsome, the last one had a mouth like a fish-tank...they couldn't wait to fall in!

BETTY laughs, and reels round, bumping into SIR HORSE CHESTNUT who is considerably put out and slashes at her with his crop.  He is dressed for a day at the races.

			BETTY
		(Astonished)  It's a conker!

			CHESTNUT
		Sir Horse Chestnut...damn you!

BETTY jumps.

			BETTY
		There's no need to swear.

He cuts at her again.

			BETTY
		Hey!

			CHESTNUT
		Get back there...whoa!

He walks about, slashing angrily.

			LONICERA
		I take it we didn't win then.  (SIR HORSE growls.)  How did he run?  Did he finish?  Was it the water jump?

			CHESTNUT
		Upsides the favourite at the third last...damn it!

			LONICERA
		(Patiently)  What happened?  (He has been here before.)

			CHESTNUT
		Into a hole, feller lost his whip, ran down the fence, made it to the last, brought down the favourite, pecked on landing, blew up on the straight and parted company.

			LONICERA
		So he wasn't even placed?

			CHESTNUT
		Placed!  Placed?  The screw finished up in the tea tent with a meat pie in one ear and an Irishman's arithmetic in the other.  They were laying odds on whether he'd order Guinness or straight ale...a laughing stock!

			LONICERA
		That's torn it.

Pause.

			CHESTNUT
		He'll be all right for the cup y'know.  We'll get a better price on him in the antepost.

			LONICERA
		All very well for you.  I'm in rather deep, cocky.  On your recommendation.

			BETTY
		Have you two been betting?

			LONICERA
		Tell you what - why don't you sell the youngster here a decent pony?  She'll never make it to the palace without a four-footed friend.

			CHESTNUT
		And what does she want to go there for?

			LONICERA
		She's got ambitions.

			CHESTNUT
		Hah!  Take my tip....stick to the smaller tracks.

			BETTY
		Why?

			CHESTNUT
		Why...why?  Because you'll have friends...no whip, no lead on your back, no handicapper bent on breaking your heart.  Leave the classics to the big rogues, that's my motto!

			LONICERA
		He's right you know.  Once you leave here, you can't come back.

			BETTY
		If I get to the palace, I shan't want to.

			CHESTNUT
		Ha, ha...don't you be so sure.  A bird in the hand...better to be a big fish in a little pond... you know what happens to minnows and tadpoles...they get eaten up.  You take my tip, stick to the provinces...play the second circuits ...I know what I'm talking about...they've done pretty well by me -

			LONICERA
		Sell her the horse, cocky.

An ACORN, dressed as a jockey, brings on a sturdy Shetland.

			BETTY
		Oh!  He's lovely.  (She puts out a hand.)  Will he bite?

			CHESTNUT
		Bite?  Bite?  Damn you, of course he'll bite - you bite, don't you?  Get back there...whoa. Strong as an ox, go all day, no vices, good in traffic, easy to box, sound in knee and wind, never been known to knock -

			BETTY
		What?

			CHESTNUT
		Knock.

			BETTY
		What?  Well does he bite his crib?

			CHESTNUT
		No.

			BETTY
		Suck his wind?

			CHESTNUT
		No.

			BETTY
		Bit injuries?

			CHESTNUT
		No.

			BETTY
		Girth galls, broken knees, sore back, saddle galls,  pricked feet,  cracked heels,  bruised soles - ?

			CHESTNUT
		(Roars)  NO!

			BETTY
		Any fever in the feet, ringbone, spavin, thrush, side-bone, splints, curls or thoroughpins?

			CHESTNUT
		None?

			BETTY
		No cold in the head?

He shakes his head.

			BETTY
		Coughing?

			CHESTNUT
		No.

			BETTY
		Strangles?

			CHESTNUT
		No.

			BETTY
		Roaring?

			CHESTNUT
		Never.

			BETTY
		Whistling?

			LONICERA
		(Quickly)  Cross his heart.

			BETTY
		Tubed, fired, blistered?

Both shake their heads, sorrowful at her suspicions.

			BETTY
		Sweet itch...ringworm...lice?

They continue to shake their heads.

			BETTY
		Wingles?

			BOTH
		What's that?

			BETTY
		(Walking round the pony)  I made that up.

			CHESTNUT
		(Following her)  Breath as sweet as a chocolate drop.

			BETTY
		But does he kick?

			CHESTNUT
		Kick?  Kick?  Damn you, of course he kicks ...you kick, don't you...whoa, get back there!

			BETTY
		I'll have him, what's his name?

			CHESTNUT
		Whitefang...and he'll cost you -

			BETTY
		Thirty pound, not a penny more.

			CHESTNUT
		Twenty - with tack.

			BETTY
		Ten, tack and stabling all in.

			CHESTNUT
		A five pound note, and a free horsebox to county shows!

			BOTH
		Done!

			BETTY
		(Handing over the money in gold coin)  He's no bargain.

			CHESTNUT
		(Chuckling in greedy glee)  Take my tip, never buy a cheap horse.

He helps her up.

			BETTY
		Can you tell me the way?

			LONICERA
		If we knew that we wouldn't be hanging around here, would we?

			CHESTNUT
		My advice is - take the Ascot road, leave Aintree on your left, avoid Doncaster, skirt round Lingfield, and straight through Plumpton and Goodwood.

			LONICERA
		And I shouldn't talk to any strange plants.

			CHESTNUT
		Be like Dad - keep Mum.

BETTY sets off...turning to wave goodbye.

			BETTY
		I'm rather nervous!

			LONICERA
		(Already distant)  So you should be...cheeky thing.

			CHESTNUT
		Far safer to stay at home...stay with us...

			LONICERA
		We'll have a good natter round the fire...

The Stage darkens swiftly, and BETTY threads her way through the dark shapes of the forest.  Strange music.  Little fires flicker here and there.  A horse whinnies.  the music increases and there is a long, screaming cry, held...hard to say whether human or beast.  Soft movements.

Then, out of the forest come MEN, wearing giant antlers with an enormous spread, and soft, heel-less, doeskin shoes.

They caper rhythmically and gently, swaying the huge antlers...their bodies held back, kicking forward with their feet.  The dance increases in intensity, strange rather than menacing, until BETTY is whirled into the centre.  She now wears a soft white gown and a wreath of green and flowers in her hair, which now flows to her waist, soft and fair.  She tries to escape, making ritual movements from one of the circle to the other.  Eventually, at the climax, the MEN crowd in and engulf her.  She is carried aloft, recumbent, on a cradle of antlers.

SCENE EIGHT

The Kitchen Garden of the Palace.  The old brick walls are covered with espaliered trees, flowering, fruiting.  There is a strawberry patch, raspberry canes laden with raspberries, and salads in neat rows.  BETTY enters, composed and beautiful, in the white dress, now enriched with gold filigree and pink ribbons.  She has two white whippets on a lead.  THE GARDENER bows and touches his cap.  She nods graciously.

			BETTY
		Good morning.

			GARDENER
		Good morning, my lady.

			BETTY
		What a strange garden!

			GARDENER
		All in order, I trust, my lady?

			BETTY
		Oranges, and apples on the same tree, fruit and flowers together!  How do you manage that?

			GARDENER
		But this is the palace garden, my lady.

			BETTY
		The palace!  Oh...yes of course, I see.  Tell me...Why do you call me my lady?

			GARDENER
		Why, because you are, my lady.

			BETTY
		How do you know?

			GARDENER
		Why, because you'm dressed like a lady and you speaks like a lady, if you please.

			BETTY
		Oh do I?  Please...what's your name...if I might ask?

			GARDENER
		Godfrey, my lady.

			BETTY
		Is that your Christian name?

			GARDENER
		Surname, my lady.

			BETTY
		And your first name?

			GARDENER
		Aaron, maam.

			BETTY
		Aaron, Aaron Godfrey.  Yes, it has a good ring.

			GARDENER
		Begging your pardon my lady.

			BETTY
		Oh there's no need to do that Mr Godfrey.

			GARDENER
		(Shocked)  Oh, plain Godfrey will do, my lady...just Godfrey is quite enough.  (He seems scared.)

			BETTY
		If you say so.  Don't you want to better yourself?

			GODFREY
		I hopes I know my place my lady.

			BETTY
		Oh all right.  Pick me a pear.  No, not that one...higher up...there...oh, you can reach it, man!  (He gets it for her, shining it carefully.)  Mmm...it's delicious.

			GODFREY
		Would there by anything else, my lady?

			BETTY
		No...you'd better be about your business.

He scurries to his work thankfully.

			BETTY
		I can't believe he really likes being a squit.

She turns away.  GODFREY shakes a fist at her back...she turns and catches him...he bends over his work, fast.

BETTY laughs.

			BETTY
		You had me worried, Godfrey.  I'd have slung a dung ball!  I'm not sure I like going up in the world.

The LADY SELINA, aristocratic, long-nosed and pale, saunters by, attended by her MAID and two fawning COURTIERS.  One has a hooded falcon on his wrist.  She laughs a tinkling laugh...then stops short at the sight of BETTY, looks her up and down coldly and passes on.  BETTY curtsies correctly.  One of the COURTIERS slips her an interested glance.

			BETTY
		Phew!  If looks could have killed!  This gets worse every minute.

Two FOOTMEN, teasing two pretty MAIDS, jostle by.  They are having such fun, laughing and squealing.  But at the sight of BETTY they are scared, go silent, bob and pass quickly on their way.  Their squealing starts again, off...

			BETTY
		Oh blimey.  I'm really nowhere.  Perhaps the conker was right after all.  At least in the forest they spoke to you, even when they were duffing you up.  I thought I was supposed to be out of the wood.

			GARDENER
		(Muttering to himself...the maids have trodden on his flowers)  They don't know their place.

			BETTY
		I wish I knew mine.  Well, goodbye, kitchen garden.  I can't stay here any longer, lucky for them that can.

She walks off and the Stage revolves to the Terrace.  The Palace is very fine, rococo, and there are statues, and flowers and urns in the traditional style, groups of COURTIERS, colourfully dressed, make witty conversation, some walking about to show off in their gear.  In a corner a squat YOUNG MAN, unprepossessing, plays with a gadget on a table...two mongrels at his heels.  One MAN, dressed in shining green with a cap of yellow hair, stands out.  His manner is lordly but benign, and he is both gracious and graceful with those about him.  He is playing with a ball and cup.  Every time he gets the ball into the cup there is applause.  He allows another MAN to try and smiles generously when the MAN muffs it.  A pretty WOMAN tries and is filled with laughing confusion.  A mood of live gaiety.

Bored, the PRINCE moves away, descending from the terrace to the walk by a broad flight of steps.  He pauses, to smell a rose.  A COURTIER immediately plucks it for him but he passes on with a smile.  He circles ceremoniously and ascends again, between bowing COURTIERS, and approaches the MAN at the table.

			PRINCE
		Fascinating.  How are you getting on?

			ARTHUR
		(Pleased)  There are some very odd refractions...would you like to see...if you moderate the wavelengths...so...(He dodges round the table.)

			PRINCE
		(Kindly)  Ye-es, marvellous...absolutely fascinating.

But he is bored stiff and moves away.  ARTHUR, disappointed, returns to his models.

			SELINA'S MOTHER, LADY FAY
		(Tapping the PRINCE with her fan)  Such patience, sire!  The poor little man adores you.  And he's such a bore!

			PRINCE
		(In gentle reproof)  I suppose so.  I just see him as - innocent.
			LADY FAY
		Very endearing - in a child.

She moves away gracefully.  The PRINCE turns in enquiry to a wily old bird who is never far from his elbow.

			CHANCELLOR
		Innocence in a man can be dangerous sire.

			PRINCE
		How so?

			CHANCELLOR
		An innocent man will give up his life for all sorts of reasons.  He is quite prepared to die for a piece of cloth.

			PRINCE
		Do not all our soldiers rally to the flag?

			CHANCELLOR
		To the flag, sir, not to the idea.  Ideas breed traitors.

They both look at the little MAN, speculatively.  The PRINCE frowns.

			PRINCE
		(Again the gentle reproof.)  He is my brother.

			CHANCELLOR
		(Very quietly)  Half brother.

			LADY FAY
		(Joins them smoothly...very Knightsbridge)  He is so free with everyone.  Either he thinks absolutely nothing of himself, to waste his time so, or he is patronising us...I mean, he agrees with everything I say and I talk absolute rubbish!  All I get is a sweet smile, you don't know where you are.  The man's an enigma...an enigma!

			SELINA
		(Approaches, sugar sweet)  Mummy darling...

She flutters at the PRINCE in a sickly sort of way.  He seems to like it.

			LADY FAY
		(Tucking her under the chin, and looking at the PRINCE to ensure that he is watching this tender show of affection)  Sweetness...there...  (Aside)  Don't worry, my pet, Daddy and Mummy will see to it, don't forget to look shy...(To the PRINCE)  How wise of our beloved King to favour the most worthy, the bravest and wisest of his offspring, how is His Majesty's gout, sire?

			PRINCE
		Painful...painful...(He limps a little and there is gentle laughter.)

SELINA is hoping for the arm of the PRINCE, but he smiles on her, bows, and walks about, giving equal attention to all the LADIES.  LADY FAY hops about, with SELINA in tow...showing her off to advantage.  A MESSENGER enters, bows, and gives the PRINCE a message.

There is an excited buzz, and all look off.  The PRINCE arranges his sleeves and takes a central position, to receive the new guest.  At the last moment an idea occurs to him.  He gives his ostrich-feathered hat to a colleague, who, quick on the uptake, takes his place in the centre, acting the PRINCE.  The PRINCE moves to the side of the group, unobtrusive.

BETTY enters, preceded by two tumbling DWARFS and leading the two whippets.  She is now wearing a train and a gold coronet, and the dogs have golden collars and chains.  A plump MAID, with ruddy cheeks and dark curly hair, attends her.  BETTY pauses, at the silent, staring groups, then, bravely, she drops a deep curtsey.

			OLD COURTIER
		Charmin'...charmin'.

The cry is taken up.  ARTHUR, from the terrace, looks up from his experiments.  He is taken by what he sees and leans over for a better look.

			PSEUDO-PRINCE
		Welcome to our fair land.

			BETTY
		Thank you sir.

			PSEUDO-PRINCE
		Do you know who I am?

The COURTIERS crane, to witness the joke.  BETTY regards him and then the group.  Gently she disengages the hand of PSEUDO-PRINCE and is about to curtsey to the PRINCE when ARTHUR leans over the terrace wall.

			ARTHUR
		(Apologetically)  I'm afraid I'm the Prince.

The CROWD turns, annoyed...there is even a subdued hiss.  ARTHUR has spoken out of turn.  He may be the heir, but he is out of favour and an outsider with the court.  An angry buzz, and much shrugging of shoulders.

			BETTY
		(Disbelieving)  You?

			ARTHUR
		I'm afraid so - yes.

			BETTY
		The Prince?

			ARTHUR
		(Fishing about and finding his coronet on the table...he puts it on over one ear)  As you see.

			BETTY
		Then who's this one?

			ARTHUR
		(Mildly)  Peter, the Bastard.  The favourite.

The COURT hisses.

			BETTY
		Well!  I don't know what to believe!  How tall are you?

			ARTHUR
		Five ten.  No, I tell a lie.  I'm five eight and a half.

			BETTY
		Well, give or take half an inch.  Can you swim?

			ARTHUR
		Like a fish.  And I've a good pair of lungs.

			BETTY
		When you haven't got asthma...

			ARTHUR
		Oh, I only get that when I'm crossed.

			BETTY
		(Sighs)  You're the one.  Give me a leg up.

He helps her up the wall.  The COURT whispers.  She looks at ARTHUR expectantly.  He clears his throat, nervous.

			ARTHUR
		(To the COURT)  Ah...er...dismiss.  You can all go now...that is...clear off, please.

They scurry about, alarmed, and go, bumping into each other in confusion at the turn of events.  The other PRINCE looks rather put out but his FRIENDS persuade him to leave.

			ARTHUR
		How was that?  Well, they went!

			BETTY
		It wasn't very princely.

			ARTHUR
		No, you're right.  But I've never bothered much with all that...it's a bit out of date nowadays, we leave most of it to the Chancellor.

			BETTY
		I like a man to be his own boss.  What's all this?

			ARTHUR
		Techniques.

			BETTY
		What are they for?

			ARTHUR
		I want to improve the lot of my people.

BETTY takes a look, walks around the table.  She fiddles with one of the models and gets a slight shock.

			BETTY
		(With a little scream and a jump)  Hey...that's dangerous...you could hurt people with that!

			ARTHUR
		Not if it's used properly.

			BETTY
		What, this little thing?

ARTHUR laughs at her ignorance.

			ARTHUR
		Oh, that's just a model...the real installation would cover half an acre.

			BETTY
		Oh.  Oh, well, of course, I realised that.  I have a mind too, you know.

			ARTHUR
		(With a sigh)  Yes, I can see that.

			BETTY
		It looks like a lot of mischief to me.

A roll of drums.  ARTHUR rolls his eyes...more trouble.  The QUEEN, extremely grand, in crimson velvet with collar and train, sweeps in with a matter of fact bossiness to organise the preparations for the Ball.

			QUEEN
		(To ARTHUR)  Ah, there you are.

He kisses her dutifully on the cheek.  The QUEEN'S ATTENDANTS, directed by her imperious arm-waving, begin frantic activity.  Wrought iron arbours are fitted together and garlanded with leaves, flowers and ribbons.  Swan chairs with silver cushions are brought on.  BETTY watches, open-mouthed.  ARTHUR gets in the way and irritates his MOTHER.  She pushed aside a clumsy workman, knocks in a nail herself with a competent bang...and bumps into ARTHUR again.

			ARTHUR
		(As his table is removed)  What's all this?

			QUEEN
		You haven't forgotten the Ball?

			ARTHUR
		(He has.)  Oh...no,no, of course not.  More expense!  The Goths will get us in the end, that's for sure.  Who's on the ramparts?

			QUEEN
		The Yellow Guard.

			ARTHUR
		I thought so.

			QUEEN
		Move aside...move aside...now!  There must be room for my train!

She takes a turn or two, swishing her train.  And comes up against BETTY.  Who drops a quick curtsey.

			BETTY
		Who's this?

			ARTHUR
		(Very nervous)  Oh...ah...this is the Princess Bettina...from Lointaine...you know.

			QUEEN
		The devil you say!  I certainly don't know...is she on our list?

			ARTHUR
		Her visit is fortuitous.

			QUEEN
		Don't be pert, what does that mean?

			ARTHUR
		She's...ah...making a courtesy call.  To pay her respects.  (Agitated, to BETTY)  Have you got a card?

BETTY gives him a very scornful look, turns a sweeping circle and performs a florid and very low curtsey.  Rather cheeky.

			QUEEN
		Humph.  So I find her alone...here...in the garden...with a man!

			ARTHUR
		No mother...only with me.  She was on her way to your reception.

			QUEEN
		(Foghorn)  Unattended?

The two DWARFS tumble on and make deep bows.  Their elegant clothes mollify the QUEEN somewhat.

			QUEEN
		Where did you say she was from?

			BETTY
		Lointaine, marm.
The QUEEN ignores her rudely, turning to her son.

			ARTHUR
		(More or less unnerved)  Lointaine...you know...just on the left of Portugalia...nine hundred leagues in all directions.  (He reads from his notebook)  Excellent train service, copper mines, iron ore, lacemaking and very good skiing.  Uncle Igor retired there.

			QUEEN
		Oh - a tax haven.  It sounds very middle class.

			ARTHUR
		The Princess' father is a Knight of the Vertical Spiral.

			QUEEN
		(Impressed)  Oh-h.

She regards BETTY with a speculative stare, lifting her lorgnette and walking all the way round her.

			QUEEN
		Most of the Spirals are penniless maniacs, that's common knowledge.  I wouldn't say it was an order of...substance.

The DWARFS scuttle off, returning at once with sacks and sacks of gold, pouring them at the QUEEN's feet.  She does not flicker, glance, or give any indication at all that she even sees the DWARFS, let alone the gold.  She never looks down.  Only her manner alters.  Utterly.  She extends a gloved arm to BETTY, lifting her from a curtsey.

			QUEEN
		(Soft as butter)  Stand up child.  Let me see your face.  The nose is quite restrained.  Royalty must be well-nosed.  However, one can go too far.  What's this...hazel eyes?!

She is aghast.  All seems to be lost.

			ARTHUR
		(Hurriedly)  Spanish royal line, on her mother's side.

			QUEEN
		That would explain it.  Seaward Isles, fetch me my telescope.

Her LADY-IN-WAITING fetches it at the run.  The QUEEN regards BETTY through the telescope...then snaps it shut with decision.

			QUEEN
		Ye-es.  We-ell.

			ARTHUR
		Yes?

			QUEEN
		(Waving him aside)  Straighten your back, child.  Corners of the mouth turned well up - remember, a smile suggests approval.  You must learn to be lovable or they'll cut off your head.  And don't be clever, they'll take a pot at you - can you breed?

			BETTY
		I beg your pardon?

The LADY-IN-WAITING whispers in BETTY's ear.  BETTY puts her hands to her face, embarrassed.

			QUEEN
		Speak up, speak up...I'm not deaf.

			BETTY
		I assume so, Your Majesty.

			QUEEN
		Assume...assume...that's not good enough.  His Majesty is looking elsewhere...(To ARTHUR)  You're going to be passed over if I don't do something about it...we can't just assume.  How many sons did your mother have?

			BETTY
		Three marm.

			QUEEN
		And her mother?

			BETTY
		Three marm.

			QUEEN
		And your father's mother?

			BETTY
		(Faint)  Three marm.

			QUEEN
		Well, I suppose that will do, though it's very repetitive.  However, we are used to being bored.  Do you swim?

			BETTY
		Yes marm.

			QUEEN
		Like a fish?

			BETTY
		Alas no marm.  I don't like putting my head under.

			QUEEN
		Very proper.  Well now, do you like babies?

			BETTY
		Not very much.  That is, I don't really know any.

			QUEEN
		You will...you will.  (To ARTHUR)  Well, Arthur, I shan't promise anything.  I'm a woman of my word, I shall speak to your father...no, don't thank me...clear the court!  (She waves her entourage off, and prepares to follow them.)  Well - get on with it, boy!

			ARTHUR
		Get on with what?

			QUEEN
		Wooing!  You can't expect to breed without wooing.  Kiss her!  Cuddle!  You have my permission.

She goes.  The DWARFS sit apart, their heads on their knees, snoozing.  BETTY stands apart, rigid.  ARTHUR plucks up courage and approaches her.  He clears his throat.

			BETTY
		Go away.

			ARTHUR
		I only wanted to -

BETTY turns on him.

			BETTY
		Go away!

			ARTHUR
		Where to?

			BETTY
		I don't care!  Just buzz off.  I've never been so insulted in my life.  What a cow!

			ARTHUR
		Sssh!

			BETTY
		I don't care if she hears me.  She's...she's Vulgar!

			ARTHUR
		You can't say that about a Queen...she makes the rules!

			BETTY
		Oh can't I?  I'll say it louder.  The Queen is -

He claps a hand over her mouth.  She pulls away, furious.  He forgets to let go of her, enjoying the contact.

			ARTHUR
		We don't want a fuss.  I know she's impossible.  It's her age.  She was a beautiful woman, you know, but she's gone off.

			BETTY
		I never met such a greedy, bossy -

			ARTHUR
		Well, she's fed up.  There was the earthquake, and she doesn't like my face, and the wheat got flattened, and my father's an awful twerp -

			BETTY
		What did she marry him for then?  There's no excuse.  All she wants is somebody to produce babies...what an insult.  I shall end up like her, somebody's awful mother, nothing but a bus for little princes and princesses to take a ride in.  What a fatuous destiny!

			ARTHUR
		You're very beautiful.

			BETTY
		And a lot of hard work That took, I don't mind telling you!  I haven't had a biscuit or cake for months...let alone a liquorice allsort, or a toffee, or even a mint humbug!

			ARTHUR
		(Fervently)  It was worth it.  Can I kiss you?

			BETTY
		No.  No, no, no!

			ARTHUR
		But what Do you want, then?

			BETTY
		Oh, I don't know.  I've come all this way!  And for what?  It wouldn't be so bad if you were handsome.  Look at that brown jacket...you might have spruced yourself up, the fortune-tellers must have warned you I was coming.  And all This.

She goes to the table, pushed to one side in the preparations for the Ball, she picks up a book and begins to read the titles.

			BETTY
		"How to Insure Your Palace"..."Pest Control of Dungeons"...honestly!  Don't you ever read anything Interesting?

			ARTHUR
		I once read "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe"...

			BETTY
		And I suppose you're a Philistine where art is concerned.

			ARTHUR
		I can't say I know what I like, though I certainly know what I don't like.  I don't always like what I know -

BETTY groans.

			BETTY
		Oh, never mind.  What about music?

			ARTHUR
		I do play the flute and I like country and western.

			BETTY
		I'm a Chicago Blues man myself.

			ARTHUR
		I suppose you wouldn't let me kiss you.

			BETTY
		No.  Why should I?  You're just doing what your mother tells you - she picked me out, not you.

			ARTHUR
		No, it's you I want.  Honestly.

			BETTY
		Really?  Really and truly?

			ARTHUR
		Right from the start.

			BETTY
		Why me?  I'm not beautiful.

			ARTHUR
		Yes, you are!

			BETTY
		I am?  Oh - well.  But all those babies?  All those princes and princesses I'd have to provide...we'd never have time for fun and  adventuring and discovering and all that!  Not even time for go-kart racing.  I don't know why I've bothered - I shall end up back in the kitchen where I started.

			ARTHUR
		No you won't.

			BETTY
		Nappies, prams, mixed feeding...

			ARTHUR
		We'll hire a nanny.

			BETTY
		Let someone else look after my children...for money?  No, I shall be Just a nursemaid, at everyone's beck and call.  Me, with a degree!  Do you know I read manners, languages, seduction, French cooking...

			ARTHUR
		Seduction?

			BETTY
		I failed seduction.

			ARTHUR
		So did I.

Emboldened, he takes her hand.  Below, PATRICIA and ANGELINA pass, their conversation audible to BETTY and ARTHUR.

			PATRICIA
		He's given her a sapphire ring the size of a swan's egg!

			ANGELINA
		Really?  Boring old Arthur?

			PATRICIA
		It was his mother's, she said it made her finger look small.

BETTY rips off the ring, gives it back to ARTHUR.  It falls, he gropes for it.

			ANGELINA
		(As they go)  I expect they'll collect stamps.

			PATRICIA
		Or sail his dinghy -

			ANGELINA
		On the reservoir.

They laugh and go.  BETTY, furious, grabs the ring and shoves it back on her finger.  But then sits on the balustrade, dangling her legs, deflated.  She looks ARTHUR up and down.

			ARTHUR
		I could get a new jacket. new suit.

			BETTY
		Moleskin?  Inky blue?  With a stripy lining?

			ARTHUR
		(Blenches)  If you like.

			BETTY
		No.  It's no good.  (Shakes her head.)  Home wasn't very nice but at least you knew where you were.  Now I can do what I please...

			ARTHUR
		Tell me what you want, I'll get it for you.

			BETTY
		Arty, I don't think you can.

			ARTHUR
		I can - I'm the Prince.

			BETTY
		Bungee-jumping?  White-water rafting?  Fun - excitement?  Go on a dragon-hunt?

			ARTHUR
		I'm rather fond of dragons.  They don't Mean to tread on people and set fire to things.  I suppose you wouldn't settle for a honeymoon on the Costa del Sol.

			BETTY
		Oh!  (Of rage)

She picks up a cushion and beats ARTHUR over the head, chasing him about the Stage.  Then she bursts into tears and runs off.  He sings:

		From fields and clouds, from skies of blue,
		From the living forests of the north,
		A gentle wind is blowing forth
		Both honest and untrue -

		It breezes through these gardens fair
		And comforts some and worries some,
		Undoes and does that can be done,
		Bring joy and brings despair.

		The skies, some sunny, calm, some rough
		Will nourish or destroy with rain
		Upon the heads of mad and sane,
		Will aid and will rebuff.

SCENE NINE

Half-Stage.  BETTY being dressed for the Ball.  PATRICIA and ANGELINA assist.  The QUEEN prowls, supervising.

			BETTY
		(To the QUEEN)  What do you think?

			QUEEN
		Another hairpiece!

ANGELINA fixes BETTY's hair.

			QUEEN
		Let me see...oh, much too common!

ANGELINA and PATRICIA fix BETTY'S hair.

			QUEEN
		Now - lower the belt.  Remember, always present a beautiful line.  When you move, people must melt at the sight!

			BETTY
		(Shaking her head at the hairpiece)  I should certainly melt in that.

			QUEEN
		Quite right.  Simplicity is all.  Never look foolish, it makes people cringe and get nasty.  You must always be Inevitable.  The coronet.

			BETTY
		I've got cold feet.

			QUEEN
		That's as it should be.  I'm always sick myself.

			BETTY
		You?

			QUEEN
		Sick as a Cup Supporter.  It's the penalty of being so sensitive.  You've heard the story of the Princess and the Pea?

			BETTY
		Yes?

			QUEEN
		Me.

			ANGELINA
		She could have fooled us.

PATRICIA giggles.  The QUEEN knocks their head together.  They reel about, staggering.

			BETTY
		Will I do?

The QUEEN inspects her.

			QUEEN
		Well of course I was lucky, I had an eighteen inch waist.  No matter.  Call the trumpeters.

			ANGELINA
		Call the trumpeters!

			PATRICIA
		The Trumpeters!!

			QUEEN
		(Checking the LADIES-IN-WAITING)  Sal volatile, handkerchiefs, two groats for the cloakroom lady, barley sugar.

PATRICIA offers BETTY a brown paper bag.  BETTY looks at her, puzzled.

			PATRICIA
		To be sick in.

BETTY shakes her head wanly.  The TRUMPETERS blare.  She moves forward.

			QUEEN
		Not yet, not yet...

The TRUMPETERS blow a prolonged flourish.  The ENTOURAGE moves off.

SCENE TEN

The Ball.  Fanfare.  BETTY's entrance.  She is greeted by ARTHUR, who presents her to the KING, a nice old boy.  The KING and QUEEN take their place and BETTY, flanked by ARTHUR and PETER, makes a round, to cheers.  The BAND strikes up a waltz.  BETTY looks at ARTHUR expectantly.  But he shuffles his feet miserably.  The COURT titters.  The QUEEN whispers to PETER.  With a flourish he offers BETTY his arm.  They waltz, to general applause.

			MAESTRO
		The Polka!

Cries of joy.  EVERYONE takes to the floor, and the gouty old KING even persuades the QUEEN to take a turn, though she makes it plain that she thinks it is common.  The dance is fast and furious, the music at its height when there is a loud explosion and the lights flicker on and off. Screams, shouts, small arms fire, whines and bangs.  The cry is taken up...

			ALL
		The Goths...THE GOTHS!

Through the windows pour dark MEN in metal and leather, bristling with arms.  They stand, massed, ominous and frightening.

The screams die away until there is utter silence.  Then the GOTHS, led by their enormous LEADER, leap down with terrifying whoops and yells.  The WOMEN flee, and the SOLDIERS, PEASANTS and COURTIERS fight bravely.  ARTHUR does his best but gets clonked on the foot and hops around in agony, getting buffeted, and in the way of PETER, who is doing a lot of expert swordplay.  BETTY pushes ARTHUR forward but he gestures his bad foot.  However, he has another go, and gets clouted.  Concussed, he reels about dangerously.  BETTY, incensed, grabs a stout stick and lays about her.  There is a lot of flickering light and the cry is taken up...

			ALL
		Fire!  Fire!

Noise...the clash of swords...the crackle of burning.

END OF ACT ONE

ACT TWO

SCENE ONE

Half-Stage.  The smoking town behind.  Exhausted, PETER and BETTY enter.  They come across ARTHUR...who gets to his feet wearily.

They all turn and look at the flames.

			ARTHUR
		I'm afraid it's the end of everything.

			PETER
		(Defiantly)  Nonsense.  We're not done for - long live the King!

A SOLDIER runs on.

			SOLDIER
		(Kneeling to PETER)  The King, my lord, is dead.

			ALL
		Dead?

			COURTIER
		(Enters)  Too much for his poor old heart.  Actually it was the polka that did it.

COURTIERS and SOLDIERS straggle on and the cry is taken up...

		The King is dead...long live the king!

BETTY and PETER and ARTHUR look at each other.  PETER is the hero of the hour.  PETER makes to kneel to ARTHUR but he shakes his head.

			ARTHUR
		No, no.  I abdicate.  You take it on.  It's not in my line.

Sadly he picks up his cloak and walks off.  BETTY makes to follow him, but pauses, and turns to PETER.  Who holds out his hand, in need.  It is PETER's hour of glory, tousle-haired and torn, he looks wild-eyed and magnificent.  BETTY responds to his splendid appearance, and to the knowledge of his fighting bravery.  She takes his hand, amid cheers.  But watches ARTHUR go, anxious for him.

The CROWD takes up the cry...Long live the king...Long live the king.  There is cheering...which turns suddenly to a wail of fear and anguish as the CHIEF GOTH leaps down on PETER and engages him in swordplay.  The fight is magnificent, but we slowly realise that PETER is getting the worst of it.  The GOTH is more agile, trickier...plays dirty...is less showy.  He does not play by the rules, in fact.  He fights, too, with a fierce, detached glee, unlike PETER, who is earnest in his cause, and stiff-faced with determination not to yield.  He looks about to be a dead hero.  The lights fade a little, the crowd cringes, and there is a hiss of terror.

The GOTH, now playing with PETER, suddenly tires of his fun and contemptuously flicks PETER's sword from his hand and kicks him to the ground in one movement, lifting his own sword for the kill.

			BETTY
		(A magnificent shouting growl)  NO!

She throws herself in front of PETER, defying the GOTH to kill her.

			GOTH
		(In a surprised, tired voice)  Get out of it, I don't want you.

			BETTY
		I'm the Princess Bettina from Lointaine, isn't that worth something?

			GOTH
		Are you asking for his life?

			BETTY
		Name a price.  He is our King!

			GOTH
		Oh I know that.

He makes to kick her aside and get on with it.

			BETTY
		(Prostrating herself)  Please!  You'll have to kill me first!

			GOTH
		Right.

He lifts his sword in a matter-of-fact sort of way.  BETTY jumps up, aghast.

			BETTY
		You mean you would?

PETER staggers to his feet and attempts to interpose himself.

BETTY shakes him off, furious.

			BETTY
		You rotten savage!

She cuffs the GOTH about the head.  He laughs and dodges back...she goes for him again.  He lifts her easily with one hand.

			BETTY
		Put me down!  Put me down...my petticoat's showing!

PETER, meanwhile, is gesturing off...and beckoning, mouthing instructions.  A group of TOWNSPEOPLE creep on, above, with a large net.  The GOTH laughs, twirling BETTY, who screeches.  Then he puts her down, laughing at her giddiness.

			GOTH
		Princess!

			BETTY
		I'm not really a princess, I'm a peasant...so SHUT UP!

			GOTH
		Well, whatever you are, there's a bit of fight about you.

			BETTY
		And that's all you care about, isn't it?  Fighting!

			GOTH
		What do you expect?  I'm a man!

			BETTY
		Yes!  And you've Destroyed this lovely palace!

			GOTH
		It was rotten.  And the people in it.

			BETTY
		So you destroy an ancient and beautiful place! I've heard you lot live in mud huts.

			GOTH
		(Grasps her by the wrist)  There's more to life than stone masonry, little princess peasant.  Stop a man from fighting and you'll find there are worse fates than dying by the sword.

			BETTY
		What's worse than being killed?

			GOTH
		Living sometimes.  You left home, didn't you?

			BETTY
		Only by accident...by a twist of fortune.

			GOTH
		Going to stick it out, were you?

			BETTY
		I didn't say that.  Who are you?

			GOTH
		You can see who I am.

			BETTY
		(Approaches him)  Do I know you?

The GOTH drops his visor.

			GOTH
		(Sheathing his sword)  You know me well enough!  But since you have courage, my fierce princess peasant, I'll wet my sword elsewhere.

He turns to make off and the net drops.  He struggles furiously, caught like a fish.  But his strength is tremendous and he bursts the cords with ease...to the awed groans of the crowd.

			GOTH
		Even your nets are rotten!  We'll fashion a few new ropes for you!

He turns, embraces BETTY insolently with one arm, and goes.  Angry, she runs to a SOLDIER and grabs a blunderbuss.  She aims off and fires.  There is a puff of smoke and the thing falls to bits.

			BETTY
		Oh Blimey.

			PETER
		I say...thanks awfully!

			BETTY
		That's all right.

He takes her hand.

			PETER
		What a monster.  You saved my life.

			BETTY
		It's going to be a very tough struggle.

			PETER
		Don't you worry...we'll win through!

He lifts his sword and the people cheer.  He looks gay and gallant.

			PETER
		I say...did you notice my double-handed back-swing?  It had him worried!

			BETTY
		We need tanks.

			PETER
		Don't worry - the winter's coming.  How will he feed his army?

SCENE TWO

White tents on a slope.  Here and there stretchers with wounded SOLDIERS.  WOMEN move about, tending the wounded.  PETER, in simply army clothes, strides on and consults with his OFFICERS.  BETTY, dressed as a nurse, emerges from a tent.  The SOLDIERS bow.

			CAPTAIN
		What news, Your Majesty?

			PETER
		The town and palace are burnt out.  But we have retaken Obrisk.

			BETTY
		And reinforcements?

			PETER
		On the way.  How are the wounded?

			BETTY
		Recovering.

			PETER
		And the cholera?

			BETTY
		No more fresh cases...our new laws are taking effect.  All we need is food.

			CAPTAIN
		Yes sire...we are in a bad way.

			PETER
		Food...food...there must be some way!

A MESSENGER brings him a letter.  He reads it, then throws it down impatiently.

			BETTY
		Arthur again?

			PETER
		Some potty idea about making soup out of grass.  I wish he wouldn't waste my time.

			BETTY
		I suppose he's trying to help.

			PETER
		(Absently)  Yes, he's a good chap.

He turns away.  BETTY sighs.  Then she brightens as an OLD MAN, helped by a BOY, pushes on a cart.  But when she looks inside there is only one sack of grain.

			BETTY
		Is this all you can find?

			CARTER
		There bain't nothing, maam, nothing.  The fields is all burnt.

			BOY
		By the Goths!

			CARTER
		The granaries is burnt, the peas and beans and potatoes is all took away, the apple stores is kicked down and trod over, the sugar beet's all ate up.  People is scratching for whatsoever they can find.

			BOY
		What are we going to do, missus?

			BETTY
		Don't you worry, we'll survive.  What about the beasts?

			CARTER
		Not a cow, not a sheep, not a pig to be found.  They've driven them all off.

			BETTY
		No fowls?

			CARTER
		Not a chick, nor a duck, nary a goose to be seen.

The NURSES, WOUNDED, SOLDIERS and PEASANTS draw close.

			VOICE
		We shall all starve.

			VOICE
		Famine!

			VOICE
		What shall we do...what shall we do?

			VOICE
		Give us food!

			VOICE
		Save us...save us!

BETTY shouts above the growing clamour:

			BETTY
		(Jumping onto a munitions case)  Shame on you!  Do you think King Peter and I will let you starve?  Where's your spirit?  You deserve to peg out, the lot of you, I never met such a lot of cry babies in all my life!  Are you all in the Sahara Desert...in the Kalahari...above the snows of Chimborazo, or Kilimanjaro?  Are you all marooned at the South Pole?

The CROWD murmurs No obediently.

			BETTY
		(Continues)  Where are your wits?  Haven't you ever lived rough before...you don't know what it's all about!  Captain, send off a platoon to the rivers...and tell them not to come back until their knapsacks are full of fish!  Tell your sharp-shooters to bring down the birds of the air...we'll eat thrush pie for supper.  Trap me moles and hedgehogs, even rats if we must!

			CAPTAIN
		Right maam.

He and the SOLDIERS make off at the double.

			BETTY
		(To the CARTER)  Organise the village women to gather nettles and sorrel and dandelion.  Look for wood strawberries, wild raspberries, and nuts, for blackberries and mushrooms and snails.  Shoot me badger, boar, deer and wildfowl.  Search for pigeons' eggs, watercress, grass snakes, worms.  We'll not starve yet!

The Stage slowly darkens.  Pause.  A wind howls.  BETTY goes.  PETER enters, his greatcoat turned up and ragged, and inspects a sorry TROOP.  MEN on crutches hobble against a cold winter sky.  Others shiver.  A wolf howls.  BETTY enters, in rags and an old shawl, she sinks down.  PETER approaches.

			PETER
		Any luck?  (His manner is furtive.)

			BETTY
		I bargained a pair of boots for an old hambone, and I took a cabbage from an allotment.  To tell you the truth I stole it.  I nearly got my head shot off.

They share the cabbage and eat it hungrily.  Then PETER gnaws the bone.

			PETER
		What are we going to do?

			BETTY
		I don't know.  I don't know.  Isn't it silly?  I used to think that if you tried hard enough you must succeed.  We've tried everything.

			PETER
		Our people are dying.  We have failed them.  If only I'd had reinforcements...I could have driven out the Goths in a week.

			BETTY
		Instead, they've eaten everything and pushed off.  Have you heard from Arthur?

			PETER
		Not since he took to the forests.

			BETTY
		Probably tripped over a root and broken his neck by now.  (She sighs.)  I wish I were home.  Even my Mum's rice pudding was better than this.  And I haven't got her to blame, now.  We're in charge.

The Stage has lightened slowly.  Shouts off...a MAN bursts in, followed by PEASANTS.

			PETER
		What is it?

			MAN
		A troop, Your Majesty...marching towards us!

			BETTY
		Armed?

			MAN
		No my Lady...with food!

The cry goes up.

		Food!  Food!

The TROOP marches on with loaves of bread and a cauldron.
ARTHUR, limping, brings up the rear.

			BETTY
		Arthur!!

			ARTHUR
		Betty!  Come and have a taste!

He gives her a piece of bread which she tears at.

			BETTY
		What have you done to your foot?

			ARTHUR
		Oh it's nothing.  I tripped over a root.  Nearly broke my neck.  Here...(Proffers her a bowl.)

			BETTY
		What is it?

			ARTHUR
		Don't ask or you won't eat it.  It's very good.

			BETTY
		Mmmmm...delicious!

			ARTHUR
		That's synthetic bread...guaranteed to make your teeth drop out - I'm only joking!

PETER approaches, eating bread, and slaps ARTHUR on the back, making him stagger.

			PETER
		Well I'm damned!  Good man!  What's the matter?

			ARTHUR
		I wish you wouldn't do that.

			PETER
		No offence, old chap.  I'm jolly glad to see you.

			ARTHUR
		We've been working night and day.  I've got my little factory all set up and we're building a sub-section down by the old railway.  Oh, by the way, I hope you don't mind, I've swopped the Winter Palace for a supply of potatoes.

			PETER
		Look here, you'd better be Food Minister.

			ARTHUR
		Done.  (To BETTY)  Can you can?

			BETTY
		I don't know about can...I can bottle.  And I can salt beans and smoke pork and dry apple rings...try me.

			ARTHUR
		I'll have her as my assistant.

			PETER
		We'll discuss it.

They are pushed aside by ARTHUR's TROOP who strike the tents and set up their canning factory.  They erect a lovely machine and pour in baskets of fruit, and a silver liquid...for the tins, at one end.  With a cough, speak, crack, hiccup, grind, sloop, whoosh, bleep and click the machine erupts large cans, one after the other, labelled beans, plums, cake and chocs.  BETTY kisses ARTHUR which much affects him.

			ARTHUR
		(To PETER)  Don't worry, you can still be king.

			PETER
		Oh...thanks.

			ARTHUR
		I hear you two are thinking of getting wed.  I want to wish you both the best of luck.
He shakes hands with them both.  There is a solemn moment, then PETER moves away to organise.  BETTY looks at ARTHUR...awkward.  He squeezes her hand.

			ARTHUR
		You'll be queen.  You'll be jolly good at it.

			BETTY
		What about you?

			ARTHUR
		Me?

			BETTY
		What are you going to do?

			ARTHUR
		I thought of getting a little place on the by-pass...set up a workshop.

			BETTY
		What for?

			ARTHUR
		Oh...ice-creams...trays...buckets and spades.  I'd like to get into the tourist trade.  At least it's peaceful.

			BETTY
		Perhaps you're right.  Except the Goths will probably come and take it off us.

			ARTHUR
		Not if we keep it small...you know, holiday camps and things.

			BETTY
		(Thoughtful)  Holiday camps...

			ARTHUR
		It's funny, isn't it?  If it weren't for the Goths we'd be married.

			BETTY
		Have you...have you got a girl?

			ARTHUR
		A girl?

			BETTY
		A girl-friend.

			ARTHUR
		You know I haven't.  I love you.  I hope you don't mind.

			BETTY
		Of course I mind.  Peter, could you shut up making that row?

			PETER
		Sorry old thing.

			BETTY
		I wish he wouldn't call me that.

			ARTHUR
		Old thing?

			BETTY
		Quite often he calls me old girl.  He's not as romantic as he looks.

			ARTHUR
		Still, you'll have very handsome children.

			BETTY
		Looks aren't everything.

She sings:

			BETTY
		I once thought that felicity
		Was an easy thing to learn to know.
		What became of simplicity?
		Where did this complication grow?

		Nothing stays where it is placed,
		Nothing with perfection's graced.
		How can life be so unfaithful,
		So distastefully deceiving?
		The genuine and honest course
		That I bethought sincerely dealing
		With the basis of existence
		In confusion fast is wheeling,
		Nothing absolute remaining,
		Nothing still or permanent enough
		To take believing.

			BETTY  (Cont'd)
		Being fair and open-dealing,
		Ever gentle, ever smiling,
		Never was before concealing,
		Never was before beguiling.

		Clear and helpful, not exacting,
		Held in living's listless flow,
		Then some sudden germ's infecting,
		When did this complication grow?

			ARTHUR
		I suppose you'll be planning the wedding soon.
			BETTY
		Yes.  What you were saying about holiday camps...Arthur that's one of your Better ideas...yes, I suppose so.  Holiday Camps!  That might be the answer!  Make everybody happy!  What do you think?

			ARTHUR
		Why not?  I hope you'll ask me to be best man.

			BETTY
		Of course.  We could have fairs and rallies, zoos and parades, beauty contests and football matches and swimming galas.  Festivals, carnivals, regattas...we could even have Masked Balls!

			ARTHUR
		Don't forget the cost.

			BETTY
		Ohh...we'll do cut price for wagon loads, all-in rates, free boar hunting and hunt the slipper, roseleaf pillows and queen-bee jelly for the ladies, archery for the men, community singing in the throne room and bangers and mash in the barn!  Are you on?

			ARTHUR
		What?  Are you serious?  I don't know.  I think we could - think about it.

			BETTY
		Yowee!  Peter, Peter - Arthur's got a good idea!

			PETER
		Hang on.  I say Arthur...(He is carrying a large red book)...is this yours?

			ARTHUR
		Oh, yes...I was using it to prop up the spifflicator.

			PETER
		It's jolly good.

			BETTY
		Peter, don't tell me you're actually reading a book?

			PETER
		Don't you be so sarky!  It's jolly good...I don't have much time for reading old chap, all this organising and fighting and stuff...

			BETTY
		What's it called?

			PETER
		(Reads out)  Globalisation, the Way Forward... do you think there's anything in it?

			BETTY
		Let me see...No-o  (Throws the book away) ...what we want is small countries, not big ones.  Big ones are too big.  Come and listen to Arthur's idea.  If it works we can have white ponies again, and fur muffs, and maypoles, and Tiptrees Little Scarlet jam for tea!  

They go off in a huddle.

SCENE THREE

Half-Stage.  BETTY sitting alone.  In workman's cap and overalls...banging off.

			BETTY
		Phew...it's all go running a holiday camp!  And now there's the wedding.  (She droops.)  Of course, I've made up my mind.  Peter's the one for me, for any girl, come to that.  He's tall, fair, good-looking...he's jolly brave.  Everybody likes and respects Peter, and he is the King.  Arthur's scruffy...actually he has very round shoulders.  You can't help feeling at home with him.  Peter's rather posh at times.  Still...I mean... living with Arthur...why, he'd blow you up like as not with one of his boring experiments...very few experiments work, you could try all your life and never hit the button and you know Arthur, he's the sort that the next chap who comes along gets it right first go.  No. I've made up my mind.  (Stands.)  It's my Duty to be Queen.  I think.  Oh, I shall be too busy to mope!

She hurries off.

			PETER
		Bettina...can I have a word, old girl?  Oh dear...I wanted to ask her about my gear for the wedding.  You've got to cut a splash, they expect it - I'm rather good at that sort of thing.  Still, she'll be back.  Sensible girl, Bettina... Princess Bettina, I should say, must get things right or you never know where you are.  Yes, she's a sensible girl...terribly good at book-keeping you know.  She looked so romantic when she first appeared...in those good old days, before - Still, we've been through a lot together.  After all, if I didn't marry her, she'd have to fall back on old Arthur!  (Laughs.)  Think of that.  Poor old Bettina would have a fit!  I think I'll wear my General's uniform...in silver...(He goes.)

SCENE FOUR

The Holiday Camp.  The tents...now trimmed with stripes and scallops.  A winding blue stream perambulates.  Some of the HOLIDAYMAKERS, with trousers rolled up, and blouses tucked into knickers, under big sunhats, fish with shrimping nets.  Others are making sand castles.  REDCOATS lend assistance and give out flags and balloons.  A pig roasts in the background and a tribe of CHILDREN races through.  The sand castles are judged, prizes are given and there is applause for the winners, a LITTLE BOY and an OLD MAN.

The REDCOATS now prepare for the wedding.  The tents are pinned back and tables and chairs, trimmed with flowers brought forth.  The HOLIDAYMAKERS roll down their trousers, put on their best hats and put flowers in the CHILDREN'S hair.  They take their places.  The REDCOATS bring on a maypole.  The TOWN BAND arrives and begins to tune up.  The old QUEEN arrives, comely in prune satin, attended by SELINA and her MOTHER.  ARTHUR arrives, and SELINA'S MOTHER pushes SELINA towards him.  Unwillingly she goes.

			QUEEN
		Of course it's all farcical, farcical, compared to the old days!  Where is beauty...where is romance?

			DAUGHTER
		Oh do shut up, mother!

			QUEEN
		I'm only glad your father isn't here to see Peter married in a Holiday Camp!  Ugh!  He liked style, did Hortibrand!  When I lost my slipper in the ballroom he took it straight to the head gardener.

			ARTHUR
		Whatever for?

			QUEEN
		"Take this slipper...take this slipper" he said... "and grow a violet in it.  When it blooms I shall find my love again."

			BYSTANDER
		(Agog)  And did he?

			QUEEN
		You may be sure of that.  My mother was down at Covent Garden the next morning.  We didn't leave things to chance in those days...matters were properly arranged...and we were all the better for it.  You knew where you were...what's more you knew Who you were.  Not that I've anything against Bettina...she's an admirable girl.  I told her the other day...a lady wears hooks and eyes, NOT zips...ahhhh!
PETER appears, leading BETTY.  They look very handsome...and there are Oohs and Aahs.

A jolly PRELATE comes on, and everyone falls silent, ready for the ceremony.  PETER and BETTY step forward, flanked by ARTHUR.  BETTY looks at ARTHUR.

			BETTY
		Oh...ah...just a mo...I've forgotten my hankie.

She runs off.  Surprise by all.  The PEOPLE murmur.  There is a pause.  People turn their heads.  At last BETTY returns.

			BETTY
		(Quietly)  There's a dragon in the dairy. 

			QUEEN
		(Screeches)  What?!

			PETER
		Dragons?  Dragons!

			ARTHUR
		Don't panic everyone...women and children down to the river...

			PETER
		(Blows a whistle...then makes off...calling back)  Awfully sorry about this sweetie...will you sound the alarm?

Confusion.  ALL run off, leaving BETTY, who hits a big gong a few times.  She puts down the hammer.

			BETTY
		Well I think I saw a dragon.  I could have been mistaken...he was in among the trees.  It could have been boys scrumping apples...or a horse jumping a gate...of course, it might be a dragon!  It could jolly well be a dragon...I had

			BETTY  (Cont'd)
		to speak up.  Oh Arthur...how did I know you were going to look so nice in that inky blue suit?

The DRAGON enters behind her and snorts.  She reacts, before turning round.

			BETTY
		(Screams)  Dragons!

She jumps up on a table and lifts her skirts up.

			BETTY
		Quick...somebody quick...dragons!

The CHIEF GOTH walks on quietly and leans on his sword, watching her in sardonic amusement.

The DRAGON turns away from BETTY and begins to wreck the place.  BETTY jumps down and picks up a stick and makes at the DRAGON.
			BETTY
		Gggrrrrh on...get out of it...Buzz off, you great dozy thing, get your feet out of it...gggrrr!  (Turns to audience.)  It's no good being frightened of them, if you are they bite your head off...just go gggrrr...like this... GGGRRRRRH...

It makes the DRAGON jump.

			DRAGON
		(A soppy wail)  Stop i-it!

			BETTY
		See!

But she isn't a match for the DRAGON who honks, and knocks things over and then, turning clumsily, pins her to the ground.

			BETTY
		Yoo!

			DRAGON
		Ooh...what a nice head...I'll just bite this off.

But the GOTH leaps in, wielding his sword and knife, and drives off the DRAGON.  The DRAGON rolls over...

			DRAGON
		Pax...pax...

The GOTH makes to kill the DRAGON.

			BETTY
		No!  No, don't!

The GOTH turns on her with a nasty smile.

			GOTH
		(Purrs)  And why not this time?

He turns to kill the DRAGON and BETTY leaps forward.

			BETTY
		Don't.

			GOTH
Why not?

			BETTY
		Because I have a stupid soft heart and I'm a fool.

			GOTH
		Oh, you're a fool.

He turns and thwacks the DRAGON, who honks in pain and fright.

			GOTH
		He'll know me again.  And so will you.

He goes quickly.  BETTY pats the DRAGON, who is honking faintly and plaintively.

			BETTY
		Sssh...never mind.  He's gone.  Don't keep trembling... you're knocking my ribs...here -

She gives the DRAGON a bowl of milk.

			DRAGON
		(After a good, sloshy drink)  I'm sorry I tried to bite your head off.  I get a touch of gall bladder ...it makes me irritable.

			BETTY
		You should stick to a bland diet...nice, smooth river weed, wild garlic...and No Humans.  Steady on with the milk.

			DRAGON
		Thanks very much, you're a saint.  If there's anything I can do for you...you've only to ask.  If I can make myself useful in any way...any way at all...

			BETTY
		Whoops, be careful you're scorching my dress!

The DRAGON droops his head.

			DRAGON
		It's always the same.  I'm not wanted.

			BETTY
		Poor dragon...it must be very trying, never getting invited anywhere...no wonder it makes you irritable!  We did try you with the airing but you singed everything...oh please don't cry...ohhh...you're making me cry...

They both cry.

			DRAGON
		(Blubbers)  If only I could do something to help ...if I could help somebody...

			BETTY
		Listen...I think they're coming back!  Oh!  What shall I do?

			DRAGON
		Do?

			BETTY
		I haven't made my mind up...I think I may be making a mistake!  What shall I do?

			DRAGON
		At last!...at last I can be of help to someone!  Oh fortune!  Hop on my back, princess!

			BETTY
		But where shall we go?

			DRAGON
		To the forest!

SCENE FIVE

Half-Stage.  The DRAGON and BETTY, on the move.

			BETTY
		(Sleepy)  Gosh...we've been going for ages.  do you know where we are?

			DRAGON
		(With a gay laugh that conveys that he is hopelessly lost)  Yes!  I'm often down this way...don't you worry!

SCENE SIX

In the Forest.  BETTY wanders on, alone.

			BETTY
		Hey dragon, where are you?  What a jesse!  Why couldn't he look where he was going? Swept off by a sycamore branch, I could have broken my leg!  (She sits.)

		I'm not worried.

		Peter's bound to send out a search party.

		He's like that.

		Handsome.

		Brave.

		The trouble is he's brave all the time.  Sometimes it's better to push off.

		He means well.

		I think I'll have to marry Arthur.  He's not so showy to be seen out with.  Still, he'll make a good Dad - never a cross word, look after us all, what more could I want - oh, it's all gone maggoty!

The words have followed on, but she has said them inadvertently and is shocked.  She puts her hand to her mouth, astonished at what has come out.

			BETTY
		Whatever made me say that?  You've got two to choose from!  Come on!  I'll marry Arthur.  Peter can have Selina, she's more his style, all that dressing up and going out to restaurants.  Yes.  That's what I'll do.  After all, I AM grown up now.  If I don't get hooked soon me bloom will wear off and I shall end up an old maid.

She slumps, chin in hand.

LONICERA swishes in, trailing a lot of fronds.

			LONICERA
		I suppose what you want, you greedy thing, is Peter's looks and Arty's homely habits...Pete being all brave and Art pouring out the Typhoo Tips.

			BETTY
		(Sighs)  I don't know.  What are you doing here?

			LONICERA
		Vandalism ducky.  I was simply Uprooted, no string, straw, sacking, thrown in the back of a blue Bugatti and hurtled fifty miles to add a bit of quaint to a weekend conversion.

			BETTY
		What happened...didn't you live?

			LONICERA
		Stars and stripes, girl, who ever heard of being haunted by the ghost of a shrub?  Do me a kindness.  No, fortunately a passing ruminant... that's a cow to you...took a fancy to my best tendril...ooh!  (He rubs a sore hip)...one heave and I was away in the wind, well...they'd hadn't thought to stake me, or tread me in...it's a wonder I didn't snap off at the base and make a lot of secondary, non-flowering growth...it would have served them right.

			BETTY
		Well, stand still.  I'd better plant you.

			LONICERA
		No hurry.  I might as well take a look round, I'm fussy about company...well, you're stuck with them when you settle, aren't you -

			BETTY
		(With feeling)  Yes, you are.

			LONICERA
		Mind you, if I really take against them I kill them with kindness...

He gives her a tight, tendrilly hug.

			BETTY
		Oof!  Hey!

She moves away, and her head droops.

			LONICERA
		Homesick?

			BETTY
		Yes.  Yes I am.  I miss my greedy little brothers, and the copper steaming, and the old lav outside with the smelly bucket and woodlice crawling up the wall and a big cabbage rose you could look at when you was sitting there.  I even miss her yell.  And the smells from the cake shop and the grocer's, and milksheds with the cow's breath on you and kingcups in the marsh along with the ladies' maids and the sea lavender.  Even the drains.

			LONICERA
		You only want them because you can't have them.
			BETTY
		If only I could go backwards.

			LONICERA
		Well you can't, so chop-chop, get a move on!

			BETTY
		All very well for you.  I need something better than that rotten little pony you and old Chestnut sold me, he bucked me off at the first water-meadow.  Anyway, I don't know which way to go.

			LONICERA
		(Meaningfully)  Don't you?

There is a whine of wind.  The LONICERA is blown across the Stage, tendrils flapping.

			LONICERA
		Whoops...the wind's getting up...

			BETTY
		What do you mean - don't I?

			LONICERA
		Don't you?  Don't you know what you want?  Don't you?

			BETTY
		Of course I don't...if I did it would be easy!

But LONICERA is gone.  The Stage darkens and the trees move in menacingly.  The MEN WITH THE HORNS enter, skipping silently.  BETTY stands still.  They make a ring round her, to faint rhythmic music.  She throws up her arms and beings to sway to the music.  The dance begins to increase in pace until it is very fast and threatening.  BETTY is thrown from one group to the other.  And then the DANCERS form a phalanx of horns against her.  She is alone, panting.  The MEN advance, with a slow stamping step.  When they are almost upon her she throws out a hand, to stay them.  The MEN fall away.  In their midst is the GOTH CAPTAIN.  He stands before her, dark and menacing.  Slowly the MEN melt into the trees, becoming the trees.

			BETTY
		You again.

The GOTH bows.

			BETTY
		What do you want?

The GOTH stands before her, his head slightly bent.  A long pause.

			BETTY
		Oh buzz off.

			GOTH
		Are you sure?

He opens his arms, offering himself.  She looks at him steadily, then shakes her head.

			GOTH
		(Savagely)  Why not?

She looks at him, thinking.

			BETTY
		I don't feel sorry for you.

He snarls, draws his knife, makes towards her, then throws the knife at her feet and goes.  BETTY picks up the knife, turns it over, makes to throw it away, changes her mind and sticks it under her belt.  Lights to black.

The stage lightens.  Snow falling.

BETTY is crouched against a tree, holding her knees against the cold, shivering in the torn paper dress.

There are cries off.  A BOY runs on, followed by others, by VILLAGERS, the VILLAGE POLICEMAN, the SALVATIONISTS and Betty's MOTHER, wrapped in an old shawl.

			BOY
		I've found her!  Here she is!

			MAJOR
		Are you all right, child?

			WOMAN
		She'm safe...here she be, poor little mite...

She wraps BETTY in a shawl.

			MOTHER
		Where is she?  There you are.  I've been sick to death with worry.  You'll catch your death of cold.

			POLICEMAN
		Betty Butler, what do you think you're doing, upsetting everybody and frightening your mother like that -

BETTY looks at him.

			BETTY
		I got lost.

			WOMAN
		That child should be in a home.  Look at her, she's neglected.  (She takes the POLICEMAN aside.  He confers with the WOMEN.)

			POLICEMAN
		Very sound solution, ladies.  How would you like that, Betty?  Your poor mother's got more than she can manage.  Matron up at the orphanage would be glad of a nice, useful girl like you - comfortable bed, plenty to eat, new boots...

BETTY looks at her MOTHER, who simply pulls her shawl tighter.
			BETTY
		(To her MOTHER)  Do YOU want me to go?

			MOTHER
		You must make up your own mind.

BETTY, white and silent, looks at her.  There is a peremptory Toot-toot, off.  The CROWD turns to look.

			CROWD
		It's her Ladyship...make way for the lady of the manor.

MRS SPRING-IN-WINTER enters, in Edwardian Grande Dame rig, flanked by her CHAUFFEUR.

			MRS SPRING
		You can't put this poor child in a home...you'll break her heart.  Listen to me, my dear.  My sons have grown up, and my husband is dead.  Come up to the manor with me.  You shall have a room to yourself, with sprigged wallpaper and plenty of books, a velvet dress on Sundays, and chocolate eclairs for tea.

Oohs and Aahs from the CROWD.

			MRS SPRING
		What do you say?

BETTY looks at her MOTHER.  Who remains silent.  A pause.  Again they wait for BETTY's answer.

			BETTY
		(To her MOTHER...hoarse)  I want to go home.

Her MOTHER puts out her arms and hugs her fiercely.  She glares round at the CROWD and she and BETTY turn to go, together.  BETTY stumbles and her MOTHER gives her an irritable push.

			MOTHER
		Pick your feet up, girl...I never met such a clumsy creature.

			BETTY
		I'm home!!  Happy Christmas!

THE END