Three Men in a Boat

Jerome K. Jerome, Clive Francis, Clive Francis

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781783196883
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Medios de comunicación y artes escénicas
• Subtopic: Teatro

First published in 1889 Jerome K. Jerome's classic tale of boating misadventure has become the quintessential example of the charm and wit of Victorian England. In an attempt to escape the stresses of city life three friends J, Harris and George plus their faithful canine companion Montmorency decide to take a boating jaunt between Kingston and Oxford. However a trip intended to relax and rejuvenate quickly becomes a journey of unquenchable comedy, with death-defying battles with swans, culinary disasters and contrary tea kettles just a few of the challenges facing the trio along the way.

Act One

SCENE 1: KENSINGTON GARDENS.
THE APARTMENTS OF JEROME K JEROME. 1889.

LIGHTS UP. Three men sit posed for a Victorian photo. Light bulb flash. Black out. LIGHTS UP. The three men now sit languidly puffing pipes. Through the thick haze of tobacco smoke JEROME.K.JEROME addresses the audience.

J.K.J: There are many who believe that a pipe is the fountain of contemplation, the pinnacle of pleasure and the companion to the wise. He, who smokes, thinks like a philosopher, acts like a Samaritan and performs like a god. It is the one English pastime that can never be hurried and should be savoured with all the finesse of fine champagne; probably even more so. Man’s briar is man’s companion for life. (A good hearty cough is heard from the sofa.) Through the sumptuous haze of Black Aromatic Supreme (6pence an ounce from any leading tobacconist) is the startling sight of my dear friend, George –

GEORGE: Hello.

J.K.J: Next to him glowering behind a complexion of over-exuberance is William Samuel Harris.

HARRIS: Also know as Harris. Hello.

J.K.J: If there’s one thing Harris hates it’s being conspicuous, and conspicuous is precisely what a fellow cannot fail to be when he wears a neck-tie of such flamboyant madness, much against my advice I hasten to add.

HARRIS: You said it had a certain je ne sais quoi.

J.K.J: I also said it looked ostentatious, which is more or less the same thing. And lastly there’s me.

MONTMORENCY/J.K.J: Yap, yap.

J.K.J: To say nothing of our faithful canine companion

OMNES: Montmorency.

All three chortle with delight at their invisible companion.

J.K.J: At the time of our great adventure we were relaxing, very much as you see us now, in my drawing room overlooking Kensington Gardens enjoying a long and luxuriant smoke.

GEORGE: The best sort of exercise a man can take without getting out of breath.

They puff enthusiastically on their pipes.

J.K.J: Our conversation had just turned from the inadequacy of a central vent and why a man should no longer be seen walking out with his tailor, when I was taken with one of my giddy spells. I only get them now and then and usually after one of Mrs. Harris’ powerful steak and kidney puddings, but the resultant reddening to one’s face can be a source of extreme embarrassment; unless of course you’re dining with very close friends. On this occasion, after chewing the cushion in an ecstasy of grief, I began drifting into what can only be described as oblivion.

Lights change.

HARRIS: I say, J, are you all right? (J makes strange gurgling noises.) What? (More strange noises.) Sorry old man, didn’t quite get that. (J carries on gurgling.) Something you ate, was it? (Gurgling.) Do you think he can hear me, George?

GEORGE: Looks like he’s having a bit of seizure. Speak to us old man, please do. (J grasps his hand and whispers.) A glass? You need a glass? (J nods frantically.) Water? (Whispering gets more urgent.) Champagne? (J is now apoplectic with nodding.) Of course, how silly, I should have thought. Harris, be a dear and pour.

HARRIS: It’s pretty inferior, will he mind?

J now puts out an imploring hand.

GEORGE: Just pour. (HARRIS pours and quickly hands the glass to GEORGE who hands it to J.) Don’t speak, just sip.

J gulps it like a man dying of thirst.

J.K.J: Goodness what a relief.

HARRIS: You poor old thing, you gave George and I a bit of a shock.

GEORGE: A bit of a nasty turn. Here, let me plump your cushion.

J.K.J: Thank you, how kind.

HARRIS: How do you feel?

J.K.J: If truth be known, a glass of Moët, even if it is non-vintage – presumably one of yours Harris –

HARRIS: Sorry.

J.K.J: – always seems to hit the mark. (Finishes the glass.) I must be honest; I really haven’t been feeling at all good recently.

HARRIS: George and I thought you looked a bit under the weather at Henley last week, didn’t we George?

GEORGE: A bit peaky we thought.

J.K.J: I’m sorry; what a bore for you.

GEORGE: Listen, I’m going to say something which may come as a bit of a surprise.

HARRIS: Oh my God!

GEORGE: Which may in fact come as a bit of a shock.

J.K.J: You’re not engaged?

GEORGE: Really! Do you think I’d let a woman see me in sock suspenders? No, I was just going to suggest a few days rest from Moët, wouldn’t do us any harm.

A penetrating silence falls on the room.

J.K.J: Sorry?

HARRIS: What are you suggesting?

GEORGE: I’m suggesting a few days rest from Moët, wouldn’t do us any harm.

HARRIS: I beg your pardon?

J.K.J: Have you gone stark raving mad?

GEORGE: No, not at all. I think it would do us all the power of good; especially you. J.

J.K.J: Me?

GEORGE: Yes, I think you indulge too much.

J.K.J: Nonsense. (Pouring himself a glass.) I’m capable of going a whole day sometimes without touching so much as a single drop.

HARRIS: I have to say that recently it’s been giving me dizzy spells –

J.K.J: (Holding up HARRIS’ non-vintage.) Not surprised if this is the stuff you drink.

HARRIS: And an occasional restless leg.

GEORGE: What’s an occasional restless leg?

GEORGE: Wouldn’t you like to know!

Both men laugh.

J.K.J: With me it’s been far worse, and nothing to do with Moët.

GEORGE: Flatulen...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Foreword
• Cast
• Act One
• Act Two