Priestley Plays Four by J. B. Priestley Page B

Knight.
    FIRST SOLDIER looks through flap at L.
.
    FIRST SOLDIER: You’re on next, chum. Ha-ha!
(Withdraws.)
    SAM:
(Groaning.)
Help me on with this armour, will you?
    BARMAID: You’re not going out there, are you?
    SAM:
(Groaning.)
I have to.
    BARMAID: My gawd! Well, I don’t know which goes where – but I’ll do my best – you’ll need all this an’ more.
    Through this dialogue BARMAID, with some false starts, helps SAM to put on his armour
.
    Not very thick an’ ’eavy, is it? They ought to do better for you than this, if you ask me. Proper tinny stuff, in’t it? I thought it’ud weigh tons.
    SAM: It did when I first brought it here.
    BARMAID: Perhaps somebody’s changed it. ’Ow yer feeling?
    SAM: Terrible.
    BARMAID: You don’t look a good colour. I wouldn’t stay out long if I was you –
    SAM: I don’t expect to. Haven’t got a couple of aspirins, have you?
    BARMAID: Sorry, I’m right out of ’em. Why don’t you have a nice lie down instead?
    SAM: I probably will.
    FIRST SOLDIER looks through flap again
.
    FIRST SOLDIER: Which do you fancy – mounted or on foot, chum?
    SAM:
(Gloomily.)
On foot.
    FIRST SOLDIER: Quite right. ’Aven’t so far to fall. A minute to go, chum, then you’re on. And what a hope you’ve got!
    Withdraws. SAM now takes up his weapons and moves about a bit
.
    BARMAID: I’ve seen all this on the pickshers – but I don’t fancy it somehow. Rather ’ave cowboys an’ Indians. Or them gangsters in night clubs. Of course this is more
spectacular
– if that’s what you fancy.
    SAM:
(Who is probably trying to straighten sword.)
It’s not what
I
fancy –
    A LOUD VOICE:
(Off, L..) SIR SAM!
    SAM:
(Miserably calling.)
Coming.
    BARMAID: Well, you’ve got a knight’ood out of it, ’aven’t you? Best of luck, dearie, an’ just remember – there’ll always be an England.
    SAM:
(Gloomily.)
Thanks very much.
    He braces himself and strides out L.. Immediately there is a mixed outburst of cheering, booing, laughter etc. BARMAID peeps out through flap L.. MELICENT comes hurrying in R.. She is extremely agitated
.
    MELICENT: Tell me, have they begun? I thought I wouldn’t mind – but now I daren’t look. You’ll have to tell me. What’s happening?
    BARMAID: They’re sort of walkin’ round each other, dear. Ooo – that Red Knight’s a hell of a size, isn’t he? Make two of poor Sir Sam. One-sided, I call it. Oo – now they’ve started.
    Sound from L. of weapons clashing on armour etc
.
    MELICENT: Master Marlagram promised me it wouldn’t be a real mortal combat – that he’d work an enchantment somehow –
    BARMAID: ’E’ll ’ave to ’urry up, then.
    MELICENT: Who’s winning?
    BARMAID: ’Oo d’yer think? Our chap ’asn’t an earthly. Ref ought to stop it. Red Knight’s beatin’ ’im back – beatin’ im back – oo – what a slasher!
    MELICENT: Oh – horrible – horrible! I ought to find Marlagram –
    BARMAID:
(Excited herself now.)
They’re coming this way – they’re coming this way – Sam’s slipped – No – he’s up again – Red Knight’s at ’im again –
(Sound of clashing nearer. The women shout above it.)
they’re comin’ nearer an’ nearer –
    MELICENT: Oh – I can’t bear it – I can’t bear it –
(Shouting urgently as she runs out R..)
Master Marlagram – where are you? Master Marlagram!
    As she runs out, BARMAID backs from entrance L.. Clashing comes nearer. SAM now comes backing in, desperately warding off enormous blows from the Red Knight, a gigantic ferocious figure in red armour, with a huge (false) helmeted head with red hair, moustache and beard Once they are well in, Capt. Plunket, for it is he, sees the BARMAID
.
    CAPT. P.:
(To BARMAID.)
Two tournament ales.
    BARMAID:
(Without surprise.)
Two tournament ales – yes, sir.
    Goes out R.. Flap at L. is being opened by FIRST and SECOND SOLDIERS but by the time they look in, CAPT P. jumps towards them, waving his sword
.
    CAPT. P.:
(Roaring.)
Keep out – ye