A domestic row between between man and his missus in the 12th century |
Saturday morning. Little John is outside his hovel, chopping up logs and looking unhappy. Suddenly, his wife appears… Olga: (In a threatening growl) Muffin-cakes! John: (Flinching) Yes, Dumpling? Olga: ( Marching over and planting a hard kiss on his cheek) You haven’t forgotten what you’re doing today, have you? John: ( Bleary eyed from a late night in the fields with the boys) Errrrrrm….er….milking Daisy? ( points to the scraggliest, most pathetic goat in the whole of England. That is incidentally male). Olga: No! John: Ermm…..buying some seeds?…getting Dobbin shod?...errrrrm….( desperate now)…going to market… Olga: You’re going to pick up my mother! John: What! I mean…oh yes Olga: Yes, she’s coming to stay for a while, to help me out John: Um…how long is she…( falls silent at vicious look from his wife) Olga: She’s staying for 3 weeks. John: ( Quietly) Oh, great...that’s all I need Olga: What was that! John: Nothing Dumpling, nothing! Olga: It didn’t sound like nothing! (stalks over to him and pokes him in the chest) And this time, you’d better be nice to her! John: ( Eyes rolling, grinding teeth) I’m always nice to her! ( quietly) It’s you I don’t like! Olga: What! Nice? Nice? Don’t think I’ve forgotten what happened last time? John: What? I…I…I didn’t do anything! Olga: You pushed her down a well! John: You can’t prove...I mean, no I didn’t! Olga: You pushed my mother…down a fifteen foot well… John: That was an accident! Olga: A helpless old lady! John: She was carrying a battle axe! She tripped! Olga: She always warned me about marrying a man like you! John: Huh ( spluttering in incomprehension and fear at the fast faced mood changes) Olga: She always said I could have married that carpenter… Dewi Williams but no, I had to marry the artist… John: Oh for the love of ( goes back to chopping wood) Olga: I could have been rolling in turnips…he has his own cart and a pond and everything! John: ( turning around ) We’re doing OK! Olga: Ha! You don’t even own your own hovel! John: Lots of people have a mortgage these days! Olga: And I’ve had 8 of your children! John: Yes… Olga: 8 of your children…and slaved to raise them, and …speaking of the kids, have you seen them lately? John: Which one? Olga: The tall one…errrrm…Tom John: Nah, he’s working in the fields same as the others Olga: Yes, my only boy!Thank God he didn’t take after his father John: No Olga: He doesn’t look like you either, thank god! John: ( pondering now) No,…he doesn’t…blonde hair…not many in the village have hair that blonde… Olga: Thank god the girls are starting to get married, I don’t know what we’d do if we had to feed all of them! John: Only Dewi Williams has hair that blonde… Olga: ( hastily interrupting ) So, are you going to leave me then? John: ( look of hope and happiness in his face for a second) What was that? Olga: Are you going down the Tavern again tonight? To be with that Robin and his merry men? John: Oh, er...yes, I was planning on… Olga: Leaving your poor wife and daughters… John: It’s only for an hour… Olga: While you consort and have fun… John: It’s serious work! Olga: In that Tavern! With that foriegn wench Sophia John: ( pauses and gets a dopey happy look on his face for a brief second, then shakes himself) She’s from Wales! Olga: Introducing foriegn muck and witchcraft into our village! John: It’s a Tapas bar! Olga: And…(checks the sun)…oh my god, you’re late to pick up mother! John: Oh, er, better go then. ( hurries away from hovel towards scraggy horse) Olga: Standing here chatting to me and wasting time! Go, quickly! Go on! ( walks away John: ( sighs and saddles up Dobbin. ) Come on mate…lets go and pick up the old battle axe…and try and find a well on the way back. |