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ACT ONE
1. HOUSEWORK
CHARLOTTE CARY is polishing pewter
EMMA JENKINS is soaping her husbandās collars
HANNAH RUSTED is carrying pails of water on a yoke
HELEN LUDLOW is mending a dress by candlelight
ANN LAVENDER is changing a screaming baby
KITTY GIVENS is scrubbing a floor with sand and brushes
PEG CARTER is sweeping the floor and ceiling with a besom
JUDITH BREWER is using a smoothing stone to force creases from linen
SARAH HOLLIS is beating a rug
MARY MIDDLETON is kneading bread as she rocks a crib with her foot
SARAH SMITH is plucking a pheasant
ELIZABETH LUKE is drying washing at a wringing post
The baby cries, the brush scrapes, the water slops, flour rises, feathers fall, silver squeaks, the broom and the carpet send up clouds of dust.
2. THE NIGHT IN QUESTION
The middle of the night. A labourerās house. SALLY POPPY, in the dark, and FREDERICK POPPY with a single candle. SALLY has been searching for something. We cannot see her properly yet.
FRED. Home then.
SALLY. Thought youād be sleeping.
FRED. Four months.
SALLY. I had ten shillings and a nice piece of lace in that tin, whereās that gone?
FRED. Four months and not one word.
SALLY. Only four was it? Felt like more. Whereās my money Fred?
FRED. I spent that.
SALLY. Thatās not yours, I put that by.
FRED. You put that by from bilking me on butter, where you been?
SALLY. Thatās got like a midden in here, donāt you know where the broom lives?
FRED. Sally.
SALLY. Thought Iād been away years. Thought Iād walk in here to find it all different and you with a long grey beard but everythingās just the same but dirtier.
FRED. Wife, / where have you
SALLY. Disappointing.
FRED. where the fuck have you been?
,
SALLY. I wanted to see the comet when it came.
FRED. Comet?
SALLY. It has been predicted by Mr Halley, / donāt you read the newspaper?
FRED. [donāt] talk to me of comets wife, November you left this house on the back of another manās / horse
SALLY. Right, no
FRED. no, do not deny it, you were seen, so do not give me fucking sludder about comets Sally, though I donāt doubt you were gazing at stars, flat on your back in a / ditch
SALLY. May I
FRED. I am speaking
SALLY. Oh.
FRED. at church I had to make out youād gone to mind a sick cousin in Stowmarket. A lie, I told, in the house of God.
SALLY. Going to church is like housework, people judge you by how well you do it, it makes your back ache, and after you have done it, it needs doing all over again a week later.
FRED. Thatās a dry bob. But you cannot wash a soul as easily as you wash a floor.
SALLY. You are right Fred. Washing a floor is much harder, particularly when you have a dog as we do. Where is Poppet?
FRED. Tied up, out back.
SALLY. Fed?
He puts the candle down and takes his belt off.
SALLY picks up the candle and uses it to light three more.
FRED. No, not fed. Sheās lucky I have not broke her neck, feedingās too good for her, lift your skirts. Put your hands on the wall.
SALLY. Pick one. I canāt do both.
She turns. We see her illuminated for the first time. Covered head to toe in blood.
FRED. my God.
He drops his belt.
Are you hurt?
FRED begins a frantic but tender examination, trying to locate the source of bleeding.
Who has done this? Who has harmed you?
SALLY. No one has harmed me.
FRED. I cannot find a woundā¦ where is / the?
SALLY. There is no wound. It is not my blood.
FRED. Butā¦ how / then
SALLY. You stink, by the way.
FRED. Iā¦ I have been shovelling out the earth closetā¦
SALLY. This parish is full of secrets and yet we spread our shit on the fields for all to see and eat the grain that grows in it.
FRED. Whose blood is it? Whose ā my god ā my god Sal, what was it, an accident?
SALLY takes a hammer out of her pocket.
SALLY. It was not an accident.
FRED. Whose blood is it? Sally whose blood? Speak maw!
SALLY. Iām having a baby. It ent yours.
He slaps her.
FRED. You liar
SALLY. I want my ten shillings. I need / to go away
FRED. you old drab
SALLY. and I must have something to pay the Midnight Woman when / the time comes
FRED. dirty, wicked bunter
SALLY. having a baby isnāt / dirty
FRED. hedge-whore
SALLY. or maybe it is, it probably depends on who puts it in and who takes it out again ā no.
He has grabbed the hammer, she shoves him away with force.
No. No more of that.
FRED falls to his knees and looks up to Heaven.
FRED. May God forgive you.
SALLY yawns.
SALLY. [āScuse me] God isnāt up there, Fred. Heās inside us. In our bodies. In your body and mine and Poppetās too. He is in your blood and your flesh and your brain, which by the way looks like a dirty sponge thatās been used to clean windows. A filthy grey thing. Iāll say it one more time. I want my ten shillings. You can keep the lace.
FRED sobs, fearful and wretched.
FRED. Whatās happened gal? What you done?
From her other pocket SALLY takes a long golden plait tied with a sky-blue ribbon. She uses one of the candles to set fire to it.
Sally Poppy, you tell me right now where the Hell youāve been!
SALLY. Iāve been to look at God.
Sudden black. In the dark the hard and continuous banging of a butter churn.
3. EXECUTION DAY
It is wash day, there are linens hung.
ELIZABETH LUKE is churning butter.
COOMBES enters. A bunch of daffodils. One arm in a sling.
COOMBES. Good day Mrs Luke.
ELIZABETH. Afternoon, Mr Coombes.
He watches her. She is conscious of his eyes on her.
Youāll forgive me, I cannot stop to talk, this butter will not come.
He continues to watch her. Quietly:
Not now, Billy.
COOMBES. You did not come Thursday / last
ELIZABETH. Shhh.
COOMBES. I waited for you for an hour and a quarter.
ELIZABETH. I have told you I am done with it.
COOMBES. I cannot stop thinking about your commodity.
She sighs. Shifts her grip on the churn. Wipes sweat from her brow.
Where is the wrong in it? We are both widowed.
ELIZABETH. I am widowed Billy, you...
