Two Gentlemen of Bayside
[or Bandidos Labour Lost ]

               
          BEFORE.....                    AFTER.....

COUNT
Alas my Leige unfortunate it is,
that thousest art not shap'd for such sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking lass.
Thou that art rudely stamp'd by falls a many,
Thy beard hides many a hideous scar,
And thou yet still want love's majesty.
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph.
Curtail'd of that fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before your time
Into this breathing world scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable …..

FALLALOT
Far enough Ricardo !
And no further !
Thy point is made fullscore
Strange though that dogs bark at me as I halt by them
Furthermore I sense a shadow from the wings
Over this happy breed of men, this little world.
Rough winds seem to shake the darling buds of spring…

ENTER PUNISHER THE EXECUTIONER
{ Horribly stuffed with the red spotted epithets of war in the hills. }

CODDMASTER
Hail Executioner. Well met old fellow !
He that hath a beard is more than a youth !

PUNISHER
Aye, and he that hath no beard is less than a man.


ENTER FRIAR JOHN…
{ in a state of some advanced inebriation }

ENGINEER :
What Ho Friar !
Thou weavest a merry path down Beach Road this morn' …
FRIAR :
Company, villainous company, and drink, hath been the spoil of me…
SIR CLIVE :
So then Friar,
What three things does drink especially provoke?
FRIAR :
Marriage, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine.
JESTER :
Some such men would love a gaping pig,
Some that go mad if they behold a cat,
And others when the bagpipe sings through its nose
Cannot contain their urine.
Altho' …not thee good Friar John
FRIAR :
Indeed. Urine has not escaped me since my cocks crow

ALL :
Hush : Lady Judietta approacheth …
JUDIETTA : Ah John. Thou were absent from thy chamber last night
FRIAR : Indeed ? I knowest not how ….
JUDIETTA :
Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
Where manners ne'er were preach'd!
Out of my sight!
Thou art a boil, a plague sore,
And an embossed carbuncle …
But I'll no longer chide thee.
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it.
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure;

SHERIFF :
Enough fellows, what news of Friars companions,
The good Sir Laincelot ?
The ethical Sir Perce ?
The tearaway Good Night AshphaltBurner?
The chrome and cadmium plated Bishop?
CASSIUS :
I heard them, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So full of valour that they smote the air,
Often breathing their fumes and regales into strangers faces,
Beating the ground
And kissing damsels feet.

SIR LAINCELOT STUMBLES INTO THE CHAMBER…
COUNT :
Odds Bodkins Laincelot
Gain control of yourself good fellow
Where is thy steed ?
Thy nicks are stained !!

LAINCELOT :
Huh, Ah yea, Ahhh We few,
We happy few, we band of brothers.
For he today that shares his wine with me
Shall be my brother; and be ne'er so vile,
FALLALOT :
Hah ! The day shall gentle his condition.
And those gentlemen in Beauey now abed or inbibed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
Against those that rode with us this Saterday.

PERCE :
A horse ! A horse !
My kingdom for a horse !
I think there be six Scriborinos in the Peloton today
Five I have slain today instead of him
A horse ! A horse !
My kingdom for a horse !

SCRIBORINO
Withdraw thy senses Perce,
I'll help you to a horse
Mayhap thou shalt fare better on such a steed
{Scriborino gains sight of Elvis …}
Ah, Good Night, My noble Lord

GOOD NIGHT :
Eh ? I think it is good morrow. Is it not?

SCRIBORINO
Indeed, my lord. It be ten o clock
Whilst thou wher'est whoring
We wher'est touring …
BISHOP :
Touring eh? Indeed
Far away better than bashing the bishop
SCRIBORINO
Do you bash the Bishop, Sir?
BISHOP :
Do you quarrel, Sir?
SCRIBORINO
Quarrel, sir? No, sir.
But if I do sir, the Bishop will be sorely bashed
BISHOP :
What noise from this oaf? Lady Susan give me back my long sword, ho !!
WIFE
The crutch, the crutch. Why call you for your sword ?
BISHOP :
My sword, I say ! Old Scriborino is come !
And flourishes his wrinkled blade in spite of me !
Thou villan wife, Hold me not , let me go!
The protagonists are separated ....

THE COUNT : Duke? What sayest thou of these foul drunks
DUKE : I'll wind up the watch of my wit. By and by it will strike.

THE FREQUENT ABSENCE OF THE PRINCE IS DISCUSSED ...

COUNT : Hold Fellows ! Where is thy drinking mate Prince Touchy ?

PERCE :
Ah, the flower of our warriors has become a man busied about with decrees,
His company condemning some to death and some to exile.
Neither reasoning or pitying.
Holding our Touchy in the name of Commerce.
Like a greyhound on the leash. To let him slip at will...

GOOD NIGHT
He whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep-mouth'd sea,
Plays homage to a mighty whiffler,
afore even our own good King
Who seems to prepare his way. And let him land,
And solemnly see him set on to Botany.
So swift a pace hath thought that even now
You may imagine him upon St Georges St;
Where that his lords desire him to have borne
His bruised helmet and his bended crank
The mayor and all his brethren in best sort
Like to the senators of th' antique Rome,
Go forth and fetch our conqu'ring Touchy in;
To welcome him! Much more, and much more cause,

CASSIUS
Prince Touchy. Hah the oily rascal is known as well as the Brumbies
I recall his former uniform as such…

BRUTUS .
O let me have men about me that are fat and unfit,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights
Yond Touchy has a lean and hungry look;
He trains too much; such men are dangerous.

THE SHERIFF.
Fear him not, Brutus; he's not dangerous;
He is a noble Roman and well given.

BRUTUS .
Would he were fatter! But I fear him not,
Yet if my name were liable to fear,
I do not know the man I should avoid
So soon as that spare Prince.
He reads much,
He is a great observer, and he looks
Quite through the deeds of men.
He loves no back marker plays,
As thou dost; he hears no music;
Seldom he smiles, and only in the sprints !!
Such men as he be never at heart's ease
And therefore are they very dangerous.

…TALK TURNS TO THE SUBJECT OF ROMEO …

COUNT.
I desire audience with young Marcus
Go call him forth.
Youll find him fast asleep behind the cafe,
and snorting like a horse.
Hark how hard of late he fetches breath in the hills.

SHERIFF
We speaketh of the man, but where is he ?
He hangest on the back of the pack
Love has given him wings
But his thrusts on the pedals,
have become feather light.

DENIS.
Know that the people of Mel le Bourne,
for whom we stand
A special party, have by common voice
In election for the French empery
Chosen Romeo, surnamed the Squire Maguire
For many good and great deserts to Paree.
A nobler man, a braver warrior,
Lives not this day within the city walls.
Ten months are spent since first he undertook
This cause of the Bandits,
and chastised with fantastical rides
Our enemies' pride; five times he hath return'd
From France, bearing his valiant golden steed
And now at last, laden with honour's spoils,
Returns again the good Marcus to Gaul,
Let us entreat, by honour of his name
A suitable gesture of our good will

COUNT
How fair the Tribune speaks to calm my thoughts.

A TIRED, LOVESORE MARCUS APPROACHES DENIS..

DENIS
Good morrow, cousin.
ROMEO.
Is the day so young?
DENIS
But new, struck ten.
ROMEO.
Ay me! sad hours seem long.
Phew … Was that our pack went hence the Clocktower so fast?
DENIS
It was.
…What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
ROMEO.
Not having that which having makes them short.
DENIS
In love?
ROMEO.
Alas that love, whose view is muffled still,
Dost thou not laugh?
DENIS
No, cuz, I rather weep.
ROMEO.
Good heart, at what?
DENIS
At thy good heart's oppression.
ROMEO.
Why, such is love's transgression.
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs;
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears.
What is it else? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
DENIS
Good Romeo, when'st thou thinkest of love
Think of cycling in La Belle Francais
Le Tour, La Belle de Jour…
ROMEO.
Ah indeed, if cycling be the food of love, ride on,
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken and so die…
But O, that strain again! It had a dying fall;
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour! Enough, no more;
DENIS :
Thou art hopeless Romeo
…Will you go hunt, my lord?
ROMEO. What, Denis?
DENIS : The hart.
(note : a hart is also a deer, dear readers)
ROMEO.
Why, so I do, the noblest that I have.
O, when mine eyes did see my lady first,
Methought she purg'd the air of pestilence!
That instant was I turn'd into a hart,
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E'er since pursue me.
DENIS
Alas, thy brow has the signature of Sorrow good Romeo
ROMEO
Aye, When sorrows come they come not single spies,
But in battalions….
DENIS
When thy brain looses some of its gears
It loses them by the crate load poor friend…




NOW ENTERS PRINCE TOUCHY WITH HIS FLUTE AND WENCH IN TOW !!

FALLALOT :
How now good Prince !! what news ??
SCRIBORINO
Where is thine steed of late Touchy ?
CASSIUS :
Thou pheels a new companion today eh Prince???
What new weapon does thou bear this day ?
TOUCHY :
O, my flute! Let me see it Wench.
will you go about to recover the wind of me,
as if you would drive me into a froth and a boil?
WENCH :
O my lord, if my duty be too bold,
My playing is too unmannerly.
TOUCHY:
I do not well understand that.
Will you play upon my flute?
WENCH : My lord, I cannot.
TOUCHY: I do beseech you.
WENCH : I know, no touch of it, my lord.
TOUCHY:
It is as easy as lying. Govern the ventage with your
fingers and thumbs, give it breath with your mouth,
and it will discourse most eloquent music.
Look you, these are the stops.
WENCH:
But these cannot I command to any utt'rance of harmony.
I have not the skill.
And am short of breath…
TOUCHY:
Why, look you now,
how unworthy a thing you make of it!
and there is much music, and excellent voice, in this little organ,
yet cannot you make it speak.
'Sblood, do you think I am less easier to be play'd on than a pipe?
Call me what instrument you will, though you may fret me,
Play upon it thou must.

Wherapon the Prince takes the Wench about the neck
And kisses her lips with such a clamorous smack
That at the parting all the halls did echo.
ENGINEER
My oath, such passion !!!
Prince Touchy, he is a Virgin is he not ?
His Chastity as intact as the chains upon our steeds ?
DUKE
Touchy your old virginity is like one of those French withered pears:
That may be found on Russell St at dead o' night
it looks ill, it rides hard on the nose, and it eats drily.
SIR CLIVE
I would there were no age between ten and three-and-thirty,
or that Prince would sleep out the rest;
for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child,
wronging the ancientry, cycling and fighting.



PRINCE TOUCHY IS CONFRONTED ….

FALLALOT
Prince , long hast thou been absent from thine steed
Word as reached me of your affairs to the North
What is the substance behind the whispers ?
TOUCHY
The whispers speak the truth
I prepare to depart hence to the highest castle,
In the Kingdom of Lend Lease
BAPTIST
Prince thou hast drawn blood.
Leaving a deep wound on the psyche of the Bandidos
Minstrels who used to sing your praises,
are now silent, their flutes at half mast
Maids who used to shed their garments,
and offered you their maidenhood, have swooned with grief
COUNT
Alas, poor Touchy! I knew him, eh Ricardo? Elvis? Perce?
A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.
He hath borne me on his slipstream a thousand times.
He leaveth now. Hell bent for Sydney....
And now how abhorred in my imagination it is!
My gorge rises at it...
There hang those lips that maids have kiss'd I know not how oft.
Touchy whilst thou dwellest in Coat Hanger Land,
where shall be your gibes now?
your gambols? your songs?
your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar?
Soon not one....
FALLALOT
Hah! shame and forsooth Touchy!
Now get you to our party chamber
Let the turps be brought forth.
And heaped apon with the party paint.
Let it be painted an inch thick.
To this favour all must come.
I Prithee, Touchy,
ensure the leaving party is the finest in all Banditland...

PUNISHER
Thou hast most traitorously corrupted our youth,
Quitting the realm, and hastening to the Hawkesbury
Did thou ever supportest the Swans ?
An uncertain footy fate awaits any fan to the North.
We receive report of fashions in proud Sydney,
Whose apish manners still tardy our nation
They who limp after in base imitation of our majesty….

BAPTIST
My liege, and madam, to expostulate
What majesty should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night is night, and time is time.
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time.
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief.
Our noble Prince is mad !!

JUDE
Speak more matter, with less art.
BAPTIST
Madam,
I swear I use no art at all.
That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity;
And pity 'tis 'tis true. A foolish figure!
But farewell it, for I will use no art.
Mad let us grant him then.


TOUCHYS MATE RESPONDS….

PERCE .
Friends, Moles and Bandidos,
lend me your ears!
I come to farewell Touchy, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their bones;
Let it not be so with our Touchy. The noble Brutus
Hath told you Touchy was ambitious;
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Touchy answer'd it.
Tis no minor fate to dwell in CoatHanger Land
Come I to speak in Touchys farewell.
He is my friend, faithful and just to me;
But Brutus says he is ambitious,
And Brutus is an honorable man.
Touchy hath brought many praises home to Beauey,
Whose word did the Bandido egos swell
Did this in Touchy seem ambitious?
When the hapless have offed their steeds, Touchy hath wept;
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he is ambitious,
And Brutus is an honorable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause;

PRINCE TOUCHY RESPONDS…

TOUCHY
Aye Perce…Hear me out comrades,
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood. I only speak right on.
I tell you that which you yourselves do know.
There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
All that glisters is not gold,
Often have you heard that told;
Many a man his life hath sold
Had you been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been inscroll'd.
Fare you well, your suit is cold.'
Cold indeed, and labour lost,
Then farewell, heat, and welcome, frost.
Bandidos, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave;
It is thus that comrades must part.
Touchy prepares to exit with his treddly…

COUNT
I prithee, Prince, do not make me mad.
I will not trouble thee, my friend; farewell.
We'll no more meet, no more see one another.
But yet thou art as my flesh, my blood, my brother;
I do not bid the Thunder bearer Brutus shoot
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure;
I will be patient, I will stay with El Bandidos,
I and my hundred knights.

GOOD NIGHT
No, comrades, no. Think not, thou noble Romans,
That ever Touchy will be forever bound to Sydney;
He bears too great a mind. But this same day
Must end that work the ides of October begun.
And whether we shall meet again I know not.
Therefore our everlasting farewell take.
Forever, and forever, farewell, Touchy!
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
If not, why then this parting was well made.

TOUCHY
Forever and forever farewell, Elvis!
If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed;
If not, 'tis true this parting was well made.
Why then, lead on. O, that a man might know
The end of this day's business ere it come!
But it sufficeth that the day will end,
And then the end is known. Come, ho! Away! Exeunt.

PRINCE TOUCHYS OTHER MATES RESPOND…

BRUTUS
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by luck or talent, by opposing end them.
and with victory to say we end
The heartache, and the many frustrations
That mind is oft' heir to.
'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd.
To win the spotted, to win the green,
… perchance to dream:
ay, there's the rub!
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
What victories shall give us pause.
There's the respect
That makes serenity of so long a life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's oratory,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death-
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns- puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.
Not so our Prince Touchy !

PUNISHER
Aye, tis true, our Prince has emark'd on a noble mission
If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly.

BISHOP
Aye that Prince has charm
I am bewitched with the rogue's company.
If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him,
I'll be hanged.

BAPTIST
To us, fair friend, you shall never be old
For as you were when first your eye we eyed,
Such always will seem your glamour still.

FALLALOT
Come,
Let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me
All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more.
Let's mock the midnight bell.

ALL EXIT TO THE FAREWELL BANQUET….... FLOURISH OF CORNETS ...

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