The Drunken Feathers

Scene xix

KING GEORGE III: Where are the young Princes?

QUEEN CHARLOTTE: They are all abroad, Your Majesty.

KING GEORGE III: Doing what? Fighting those scoundrels in America?

QUEEN CHARLOTTE: No, sir; the war ended five years ago. The Princes are being educated, conducting their military and naval training, perfecting their German—

KING GEORGE III: Birds, birds, and more birds. Is there nothing to eat but birds?

DUKE OF YORK: There is venison, Your Majesty. It is—

KING GEORGE III: Why are you here, sir? You ought to be in Hanover with your brothers.

DUKE OF YORK: Your Majesty granted me permission to come home last year.

KING GEORGE III: Oh. [To the PRINCE OF WALES] And why are you here, sir?

PRINCE OF WALES: I am reoccupying my chambers here until Your Majesty regains your health.

KING GEORGE III: Will you be staying for the entirety of dinner, then?

PRINCE OF WALES: It would be singular not to, Your Majesty.

KING GEORGE III: Are there any pears on this table?

DUKE OF YORK: Not a single one, sir.

KING GEORGE III: Just as it should be. The Royal Family must not eat pears, for they shall be the death of us! They nearly did me in. They are the Devil's fruit. Pears originate in China, I believe, but these must have been grown in Prussia or Germany or someplace else. I only hope to God that they aren't American. If we were ever given pears from America, I would advise everybody to turn them away, for General Washington would have poisoned them. I am sure America is burning now. Yes! New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and everywhere else in that God-forsaken country must have burst into flames the minute the Treaty of Paris was signed, and signed with their own blood, I might add! Yes, I imagine Connecticut burned the hottest, with all its Catholic blasphemy darkening the sky with smoke... Do you still have that mistress of yours, George?

QUEEN CHARLOTTE: Your Majesty, the children...

KING GEORGE III: Let him answer, woman!

PRINCE OF WALES: I cannot understand Your Majesty. I have no mistress.

KING GEORGE III: You know very well who I mean: the Papist, the Catholic common woman... You know, the widow! "Fair, fat, and forty," and so on. What is she called? Well? Tell me!

PRINCE OF WALES: [Quietly] Is Your Majesty referring to Mrs. Fitzherbert?

KING GEORGE III: What?

PRINCE OF WALES: [Louder] Mrs. Fitzherbert.

KING GEORGE III: Ah, yes, that is the whore's name! Poor little wench. If she's lain with George, she must have more venereal diseases than she has years.

The PRINCE OF WALES, deeply insulted for himself and his wife, almost stands to leave. To prevent provoking his father, the DUKE OF YORK pulls on his brother's arm so that he sits.

DUKE OF YORK: Would Your Majesty care for some white soup?

KING GEORGE III: What? Soup? Give it here. 

KING GEORGE III attempts to drink his soup with his spoon; but, finding it too difficult due to his failing vision and shaky hands, he picks up the bowl and drinks straight from it. Some of it dribbles down his face and neck, but he does not take notice. He drops the bowl onto the table.

KING GEORGE III: This scene is very reminiscent of the last supper. Yes, very reminiscent indeed. Here are six daughters, two sons, a King, and his Queen. That makes...

PRINCE OF WALES: Ten, Your Majesty.

KING GEORGE III: Nay, it makes thirteen, you stupid boy! There was Jesus and his twelve disciples. That makes thirteen. Your arithmetic is worse off than my nerves, and I am very nervous.

PRINCE OF WALES: If you say so, Your Majesty.

KING GEORGE III: All that's left to discover is which one of you is Judas...

Everyone gives one another confused looks. KING GEORGE III looks around the table with suspicion.

KING GEORGE III: I know your intentions, Judas. Mad I may be, but a fool I am not! One of you shall murder me this night, and when I find you out— Aha!

As the PRINCE OF WALES innocently reaches for his table knife, KING GEORGE III grabs his wrist.

KING GEORGE III: Here he is, weapon in hand. Had I waited a moment more, he would have slit my throat!

PRINCE OF WALES: I only meant to cut my turkey, Your Majesty!

KING GEORGE III: Liar! You'd like to put me six feet underground, you—

QUEEN CHARLOTTE: His Royal Highness means no harm!

KING GEORGE III: Worry not, my Queen. I'll dispose of this rat!

PRINCE OF WALES: Father!

In a sudden fit of rage, KING GEORGE III stands from the table, grabs the PRINCE OF WALES by his cravat, yanks him out of his seat, and hurls him at the wall. The music booms louder as he does it. QUEEN CHARLOTTE hysterically grabs onto KING GEORGE III's arm, but he distractedly pushes her back into her seat.

PRINCE OF WALES: [Sobbing] Frederick! Frederick!

The DUKE OF YORK jumps from his seat and stands between the PRINCE OF WALES and KING GEORGE III. The PRINCE OF WALES stumbles to his feet and cowers behind his brother.

DUKE OF YORK: Father, please, be reasonable!

KING GEORGE III: You keep away! Let me have a second go at him! 

KING GEORGE III shoves the DUKE OF YORK aside and chases the frightened PRINCE OF WALES down the dining room. Finally, the Royal Guards rush in and restrain KING GEORGE III before dragging him out of the room. PRINCESS AMELIA is especially confused to see her father be so violent.

PRINCESS AMELIA: Papa?... Papa?

Meanwhile, the rest of the Royal Family is in chaos. QUEEN CHARLOTTE, in hysterics, is helped out of the room by LADY PEMBROKE and LADY HARCOURT. The PRINCE OF WALES, who is still crying and hyperventilating, sits in a chair surrounded by his sisters, who dab his face with Hungary-water in an attempt to soothe him. Cut to ACT II, SCENE XX.