Queen Anne Page 7

  ABIGAIL. Please don’t worry, ma’am. My hide is thick. It’s had to be. Shall I put it on the fire?

  ANNE. Yes. I don’t understand. Who would even… who would conceive of…

  ABIGAIL. Ma’am, there’s something I ought to tell you. And once it’s said, I will forget I ever knew it, for I mean no trouble. Someone told me. The Duchess. She was lately seen conversing with the very man who’s known for writing just such rhymes as these. I remember that I thought it strange. And now… This is so… singular. And I think perhaps… Well then. It is said and done. I hope it was the proper thing.

  Pause.

  ANNE. Leave me, Masham.

  ABIGAIL. I’ll stay close by, Your Majesty.

  Exit ABIGAIL.

  ANNE. Sarah. Sarah.

  Scene Six

  The drawing room, the Marlboroughs’ house. Enter MARLBOROUGH, SARAH and GODOLPHIN. MARLBOROUGH is dressed in travelling clothes. He is clutching some reports in his hand.

  MARLBOROUGH. We’re losing her.

  SARAH. We’re not.

  MARLBOROUGH. Every letter brought me more disturbing news. And these reports… Is there a Whig left in the Cabinet? I wrote to her and almost begged for Sunderland, yet still she will not have him.

  GODOLPHIN. Harley’s star remains in the ascendancy, I fear.

  SARAH. But not for long. I am dividing her from Abigail, and once that spotted strumpet’s gone, I swear he’ll quickly follow.

  GODOLPHIN. I wouldn’t be so sure of that.

  SARAH (to MARLBOROUGH). But, my darling, you are hardly in the door. Let me take your boots off. Come.

  MARLBOROUGH sits, and SARAH kneels and unfastens his boots.

  MARLBOROUGH. The talk upon the front is all of peace. It’s madness. We need to take control of Spain. If Louis won’t agree to that… Why does she not see? We’re battling a hydra. We have to sever every head. We cannot quit whilst one remains. Why does she not see?

  SARAH. Because she has some sympathy, I start to think, with Louis’s creed. Her High Church nonsense is only a step away from Popery. For all her protestations, she is secretly enamoured with divine right, and longs to resurrect it, and longs to outlaw any opposition.

  GODOLPHIN. I really can’t agree. Anne will never be a tyrant.

  SARAH. No – because we will not let her be.

  GODOLPHIN. It isn’t in her nature. Granted, I’ve not spoken with her lately, but I cannot think…

  SARAH. Sidney, you are too naive.

  Pause.

  MARLBOROUGH. Something must be done.

  He stands and starts to leave.

  SARAH. It must.

  GODOLPHIN. But cautiously.

  SARAH. The time for caution’s past.

  Exit MARLBOROUGH.

  GODOLPHIN. He’s exhausted.

  SARAH picks up MARLBOROUGH’s boots and goes to follow him.

  Will you tell him of the business with the song?

  SARAH. No. There is no need to trouble him with that. The song will do its work. And quietly.

  Exit SARAH.

  Scene Seven

  The terrace, Kensington Palace. Evening. Enter MARLBOROUGH, with ANNE, who is leaning on his arm. LADIES, including LADY SOMERSET, are in attendance.

  MARLBOROUGH. The enemy was bearing down upon us. A young lieutenant saw I’d been unseated and rushed towards me with another horse. He held the reins. I put my foot into the stirrup – and then it came.

  ANNE. The cannonball.

  MARLBOROUGH. Yes. And when I looked around at my lieutenant… He was as close to me as you are now. Such are the destinies of war.

  ANNE. Surely you should stay behind the lines?

  MARLBOROUGH. With respect, that would be a sort of heresy in my regard.

  ANNE. I understand. I pray to the Almighty every day to keep you safe.

  MARLBOROUGH. I count upon it, ma’am.

  ANNE. Let’s stay out here a moment. The evening is mild, and we can watch the lights and the festivities.

  ANNE nods to the LADIES, who withdraw.

  I’m sorry that I’ve made you come away.

  MARLBOROUGH. Oh, I have no heart for such diversions. Not since… not since Jack died. And I’m glad to have this opportunity to speak with you.

  ANNE. I know that you’re not home for long…

  MARLBOROUGH. Three days.

  ANNE. And there’s something I must say to you.

  The sound of music is heard.

  The music starts again.

  Prince George does so enjoy his birthday. And with it falling on the leap year day, he waits four years for it to come around. It makes me smile to think that in some strange, official way, he’s only twelve. And yet he’s such a man.

  MARLBOROUGH. Indeed.

  ANNE. His lungs have been most troublesome of late. I must confess, I worry for him. Sometimes it seems that both of us are in the most decrepit state.

  MARLBOROUGH. I fear we all begin to feel our years. Ma’am, I have a most particular request which I would put to you.

  ANNE. Go on.

  MARLBOROUGH. My post as Captain General of our forces…

  ANNE (concerned). Yes?

  MARLBOROUGH. I hold it at your pleasure. But I’ve been wondering if it would not be better were I to hold the post for life.

  Pause.

  That way, our allies and our enemies alike will understand that what I say is final and ratified by you.

  ANNE. They should know that already.

  MARLBOROUGH. Ma’am, I have decided to withdraw from politics – at home, at least.

  ANNE. My dear lord…

  MARLBOROUGH. With developments of late, I feel myself quite undermined and from so many quarters.

  ANNE. But…

  MARLBOROUGH. This way, I harness all my energies and devote them to the business of the war. To our conclusive victory. Of late, you see, I’ve realised that I’m a soldier – nothing more. And the thought that my position could be withdrawn, quite randomly…

  ANNE. It wouldn’t be.

  MARLBOROUGH. And I hope you will forgive me saying this, but, God forbid, were anything to happen to Your Majesty, it would, I think, be best for all were my authority to stand through the ensuing change.

  ANNE. I see.

  Fireworks are heard. ANNE watches them for a moment.

  MARLBOROUGH. I do not ask this power of you because I am ambitious – or covetous in any way. I trust you know that’s true.

  ANNE. I… I hope it might prove possible to grant you what you wish. Marlborough…

  MARLBOROUGH. I’ve asked the lawyers to begin a search for precedents. That way…

  ANNE. I’ll give the matter proper thought.

  MARLBOROUGH. Thank you. Yes. I couldn’t hope for any more.

  ANNE. It’s strange that you should come to me with this and at this time. Perhaps we’re both aware of certain shifts within the spheres. I need to ask you something too.

  MARLBOROUGH. Anything.

  ANNE. Oh, dear. If I dismiss your wife, would you resign?

  Scene Eight

  The bedroom, the Marlboroughs’ house, St Albans. Night. SARAH is lying in bed. Enter MARLBOROUGH, quietly.

  SARAH. How went it?

  MARLBOROUGH. Oh. Go back to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

  SARAH. I wasn’t asleep. How could I be? What did madam say? Will she allow it?

  MARLBOROUGH. She means to think about it.

  SARAH. That means she’ll talk to Harley. You should have pushed her harder.

  MARLBOROUGH. I couldn’t.

  SARAH. You should have got her word on it.

  MARLBOROUGH. I couldn’t. Go to sleep now. Please.

  SARAH. What’s wrong?

  MARLBOROUGH. We’ll talk of it tomorrow.

  SARAH. What’s the matter? John? John?

  Pause.

  MARLBOROUGH. She wants the key. She wants you gone from all your posts within her household.

  Pause.

  SARAH. She is dismiss
ing me?

  MARLBOROUGH. I tried to talk her from it, but she would not be moved. I’m sorry.

  SARAH. I feel sick.

  MARLBOROUGH. Sarah…

  SARAH. Did you resign?

  MARLBOROUGH. I… I thought it better not to. Not at present. If I resign… we’re done. We’re done.

  SARAH. But she would not accept your resignation. She would reinstate me.

  MARLBOROUGH. No, she wouldn’t. Believe me. She is different now. This is an Anne who knows she’s Queen. She’d let me go.

  SARAH. No.

  MARLBOROUGH. She would. Sarah. My sweetest love…

  SARAH shrugs him off and moves away.

  Perhaps it’s for the best. You two have fought so much of late…

  SARAH. Why? What reason did she use to fob you off? Except that Mrs Masham now resides within my place?

  MARLBOROUGH. She said you’d done and said some things of late she can’t forgive. Have you? What has passed? Has something happened which…?

  SARAH. Forgive? That’s rich. Forgive? After what she’s done to me. Casting me aside, replacing me, and with a whore.

  MARLBOROUGH. Sarah…

  SARAH. My God, this is a farce. All those years of serving her. Of making her seem better than she is. I am so much more than her.

  Enter GODOLPHIN.

  I hate her. With all my body and my soul.

  MARLBOROUGH. She is our Queen.

  SARAH. And what of that? What are kings and queens but words? And if there is a God, I’m sure he laughs at us on earth for setting up such effigies. We’re masters of ourselves. And we should look to none but those with proper strength and proper worth. No one is more relevant than me!

  MARLBOROUGH. Sarah…

  SARAH. What is she? What? A lump. A mewling grub that cannot even gurgitate an heir!

  GODOLPHIN. What in Christ’s name…?

  MARLBOROUGH. She doesn’t mean it.

  SARAH rushes to the dressing table, where lies her key of office.

  SARAH. Take it! She wants her… precious key! Take it to her!

  MARLBOROUGH. I’ll take it in the morning. Please…

  SARAH. Now! Now! And take her this –

  SARAH takes up a pair of scissors and cuts at her hair.

  So she can see what she has done.

  MARLBOROUGH. No!

  MARLBOROUGH and GODOLPHIN rush to stop her.

  No! Sarah!

  A large bundle of her hair falls to the floor. MARLBOROUGH snatches the scissors from her. They are quiet for a moment. Shocked.

  SARAH. She will regret this.

  MARLBOROUGH. I’m sure she will. You’re right. But…

  SARAH. And you’ll regret it too.

  GODOLPHIN. This isn’t Marlborough’s fault. She…

  SARAH. She has divided us.

  MARLBOROUGH. No. No. I begged her for you on my knees…

  SARAH. You think that makes it better?

  Take it to her now. I want it done. Take it to your precious Queen.

  Exit SARAH.

  ACT FOUR

  Scene One

  The drawing room, the Marlboroughs’ house, St Albans. Letters cover the desk and the surrounding floor. SARAH and MAYNWARING are amongst them. SARAH has a letter in her hand.

  SARAH (reading). ‘But as long as I live, I must be endeavouring to show that never anybody had a sincerer passion for another than I have for my dear, dear, Mrs Freeman.’ You see – she was obsessed with me. She couldn’t bear to have me from her sight.

  MAYNWARING. There’s certainly some evidence of… rampant femininity.

  SARAH (reading from another letter). ‘Farewell my dear, dear life. I am, if it be possible, more than ever yours.’ (Reading from another.) ‘You’ll never find in all the search of love a heart like mine, so truly, so entirely without reserve, nor so passionately yours.’ Ugh! Now it makes my stomach turn.

  MAYNWARING. My life, but what a scandal it would cause if even one of these were seen.

  SARAH. You think that I should publish them?

  MAYNWARING. Oh. Publish them? I didn’t mean…

  SARAH. No, no. I must confess, the thought’s already crossed my mind.

  MAYNWARING. I didn’t mean exactly… God. But really? Would you dare?

  SARAH. Why not? Don’t people have a right to know the secret nature of their Queen?

  MAYNWARING. Yes, but… Surely…?

  SARAH. Perhaps I will, perhaps I won’t. But at the very least, I think, I’ll use the threat to frighten her. A clear but carefully worded hint should be enough. The thought of it will make her scream.

  Enter GODOLPHIN.

  GODOLPHIN. The thought of what?

  SARAH (indicating the letters). These and these and these are all from her. Written to me through the years. There’s some of them you’d blush to read. Maynwaring just pointed out how interested the world would be to know how passionately I was once adored.

  MAYNWARING. I didn’t say… I didn’t quite exactly mean…

  GODOLPHIN. Leave us for a moment, sir.

  MAYNWARING starts to leave.

  SARAH. Don’t go away entirely. I might have further use for you.

  MAYNWARING. Madam, I await your call.

  Exit MAYNWARING.

  GODOLPHIN. What are you thinking, Sarah? These antics will not help at all.

  SARAH. Don’t begin to lecture me, I am not in the mood.

  GODOLPHIN. Why do you not write to her? Apologise and humbly…

  SARAH. I will do nothing of the sort.

  GODOLPHIN. You must be clever now. Show to her a milder form and she might call you back to her.

  SARAH. I’m writing her a history. Already – look – (Showing letter.) it’s thirteen pages long. The tale of our relationship from when we met as almost girls until this sad and sorry day. And laying out, impeccably, the services I’ve done for her, and all the promises she made. And not just those of never-ending love. She promised me that I would have those offices for life. She promised, were I fated to resign, that they would then be shared amongst my daughters. She swore to me that she would pay for all the building work in Oxfordshire. It’s here in writing somewhere. I will find it, for there’s another oath she has reneged upon.

  GODOLPHIN. But this will rile her further. Sarah, for your own dear sake, if not for Marlborough’s, take a more conciliatory line.

  SARAH. John’s relationship with her is his concern. And none of mine. Besides, she’ll never break with him, for he’s her man. A hero for our time.

  GODOLPHIN. I see I cannot reason with you.

  SARAH. She must be made to face the wrong she’s done. And even someone burdened as she is with such a deficit of brain, must read this and begin to see that I am used unfairly.

  GODOLPHIN. I must confess, I do not like to hear you speaking of her so.

  SARAH. Why? Will you haul me up for treason?

  GODOLPHIN. You hurt yourself as much as her to say such things. We’ve all been fond of her.

  SARAH. It was pretence on my part.

  GODOLPHIN. That isn’t true. As well you know. No matter what you think about her now, she’s been your greatest friend. She has loved you most devotedly.

  SARAH. Devotion can be irksome.

  GODOLPHIN. But you would not have wished yourself without it. Would you? Her care of you? Her constant generosity?

  Pause. SARAH cannot deny this. She struggles to contain her emotions.

  SARAH. That’s why I am reminding her of everything we’ve shared.

  GODOLPHIN. Change the tone of what you write. Ask her for another chance.

  SARAH. Did you?

  GODOLPHIN. Well… no. But that was different. That was politics.

  SARAH. Then nor will I. For so is this.

  Scene Two

  The Queen’s apartments, St James’s. ANNE, seated, looks sick and unkempt. ABIGAIL is beside her, wearing the keys to the purse and to the chamber around her neck. HARLEY stands before her. ANNE has a bundle of paper
s – SARAH’s latest and longest letter – in her lap.

  HARLEY. To publish them? But surely not? She cannot be in earnest.

  ANNE. The inference is very clear.

  HARLEY. Might I be allowed to see exactly what she writes?

  ANNE. It is too personal, I fear. But Masham’s seen.

  ABIGAIL. The threat is unmistakable. She implies she will not hesitate to act unless Her Majesty recalls to mind her ‘great responsibilities’.

  HARLEY. I’ve simply never heard the like. You say the letters could be compromising?

  ANNE. Yes.

  HARLEY. Politically?

  ANNE. Yes. In many ways. You understand – we sometimes put in writing things we’d hesitate to say.

  HARLEY. This is outrageous. Your private correspondence. I wonder if it is not tantamount to treason.

  ANNE. What do you suggest I do? I thought I would appeal to Marlborough first…

  HARLEY. Don’t. I mean… forgive me, please, but we cannot know the Duke himself does not concur and back this most audacious plan.

  ANNE. What? No. No, no. He wouldn’t, I am certain.

  HARLEY. Yes. No. Perhaps. Allow me to be frank. There are those in Parliament who feel – and I hasten to assure you I am not of this opinion – that Marlborough’s last request to you concerning the Captain Generalcy is dangerous, nay, obscene in its ambition. The lawyers search for precedents but none have yet been found. Save Cromwell. I won’t offend the royal ears by speaking any more of him. But words such as ‘dictatorship’ are being whispered round. And now the Duchess seeks to undermine Your Majesty within the people’s hearts. Besides all this, I’m sorry to report, that we begin to find some troubling anomalies in Marlborough’s costing of supplies. Money being drawn aside. So one might say – I hope you see – a picture is emerging.

  Pause. ANNE is shocked.

  Here is what I would advise: send a short, perfunctory reply unto the Duchess, acknowledging receipt of her… epistle. Suggest you will consider what she’s said. That buys us time.

  ANNE. These anomalies you speak of…?

  HARLEY. Yes. I will report to you again once I know more. Suffice to say, he would not be the only General, or the first, to make financial profit from a war. And some suggest that’s why he won’t have peace. Though the last proposals from the French are clearly worth considering.