# Short Play - Advice needed



## Flute of Wine (Oct 25, 2016)

Hello - I am writing a play for a school project. I wonder if you might be able to offer some constructive advice. This is the beginning of a scene inside a small, but upmarket, dress shop on a Victorian High Street in London.

Mother: Pull back that curtain, and reveal yourself to us, girl.

*Mother begins to tap her walking cane on the floor whilst sitting upright on a wooden stool, and holding her monocle to her left eye.*

Emily: Oh, for goodness sake. It’s simply too small!

Romeo: In my opinion, madam, it frames your figure perfectly. Behold, perfection personified! *Romeo laughs*
*Mother grabs hold of Romeo*

Mother: Now, you look here, my daughter has an important interview tomorrow at a highly prestigious company. I would hate it if she did not look her best by following the advice of a Cheshire cat.

*Mother rummages in her coin purse*

Mother: Take this. Indeed, it is a lot of money for someone like yourself to have given to you – and go find, or better still, craft her a dress that frames her slightly bloated silhouette perfectly.

Romeo: Of course, madam.

Mother: You can take that off. Don’t crease it. Come here, you’re doing it all wrong!

Emily: You know, mother, it might help if you were a tad politer.

Mother: Nonsense. I know his kind. Well, he’s not having money like that. He can work for it. Besides, Italians are good at making things, are they not?

Emily: Really, mother? He’s merely an assistant – paid a pittance probably.

Mother: Just like your useless father in that regard.

Emily: How dare you, mother. You should know better. Now is not the time nor place to bring up my father. It seems you’ve learned very little from our last conversation on this matter.

Romeo: My apologies, madam. Although it seems a very small building, many times do I find myself getting lost in it. *Awkward*

Mother: Yes, this labyrinth, if you will, is not a Georgian house – that I know. It seems to be some tawdry breed of Victorian. It’s very much not to my liking at all.

Emily: Well, mother, fortunately for its sake, you’re not here to like it.

Mother: Come here, boy? What is your name?

Romeo: Romeo, madam.

Mother: Do you see this, Romeo? This kind of idle banter that spews endlessly from my daughter, much like the leaking tap in that lavatory of yours, is what reduces me to this old and frail, but still remarkably beautiful, woman.

*Romeo smiles – confusingly*

Emily: Oh, mother. Please! You ought to listen to how dreary you sound. I bet poor Romeo here is truly exhausted from having to endure your presence.

Mother: Touché, Emily. Is that true, Romeo?

*Romeo looks on in utter confusion*

Romeo: Madam, do excuse me a moment.

*Mother turns to Emily*

Mother: You better control yourself, Emily. I will certainly not be made out to be a dithering old spinster in front of the Italians – not by anyone, and certainly not by you. Now, if you hadn’t eaten those biscuits, you might have fitted into that dress of yours. There’s food for thought, not your waistline, darling.

Mother: Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo!

Romeo: Do forgive me for my delay, madam. Here, I hope this dress might be more to your liking, no?

*Mother puts her monocle to her left eye to carefully inspect the dress*

Mother: Let’s see… Four twelfths by six. It seems smaller than the last. Haven’t you got anything larger?

Romeo: Regrettably not, madam. This dress is our largest.

Mother: Then make one! Can you not see our obvious need to find an appropriate dress, one that doesn’t have the tendency to make my daughter appear like some kind of exotic fruit?

*Romeo looks on in confusion*

Romeo: As much as I would love to make a dress of that design, madam, we simply do not have the appropriate equipment to make a dress of those proportions. For starters, we have no exotic fruit.

Mother: What on Earth is he talking about, Emily?

Emily: Let’s leave, mother. He is clearly without the parts to make a dress.

Mother: In that case, Romeo, you can return to me the money I gave you; it was given on the sole condition of your making a dress. As you clearly have no intention in making such a dress, it seems you are in breach of our contract.

Romeo: Excuse me, madam?

Mother: I’ve had just about a belly full of this camaraderie. Give me that money!

Emily: Mother, for goodness sake, do control yourself. There’s no need to snatch it from the man like some ravenous dog.

Romeo: Of course, here you go, madam. Please accept our apologies.

Mother: And you can take that dress off!

Emily: Mother, please stop!

Romeo: Madam, please no!


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