Of all the many subjects that Shakespeare dealt with in his plays, few would think that welfare reforms would feature strongly. That’s what I thought too until this lost (and, I’m assured, genuine) fragment came to light…
Act One, Scene One
King Starmer’s Council Chamber in Westminster
King Starmer
My brothers; sisters; councillors; my friends
Welcome all. We are conjoined for one clear purpose:
To seize this nettle of our public purse
Whose solvency’s not better, but far worse
Since we won the trouble’d, tear-stained crown
Of this fair realm – to bring bread prices down;
To make our merchants fat; our justice swift;
To level up the common weal’s great rift;
To staunch the flow of gold our kingdom blew
On that great folly, known as HS2;
And end the bitter strife of the Crusades –
All failed, despite the promises we made.
Lady Reeves
My liege, as I’ve said many times before
The hungry wolves are howling at the door.
To put the matter plain, the well is dry
Though every day, from dawn to dusk, I try
To resurrect the state of our fair realm
To how it was when Blair was at the helm…
King Starmer
My lady, you do over-reach your rank.
We say again, so all may know our mind,
We will not have that base name spoken of
In our hearing: or from this council
The speaker of the same I shall expel.
Lord Streeting
And “Brown” is banished too?
King Starmer
Yes, him as well.
So, now we’ve got that straight, we must now bend
Our minds to how we possibly can spend
More than we earn, or ever can afford
On this first matter: buying more new swords
And spears, and implements of war
To meet King Maga’s clearly spoke intent
That this increase to more like five per cent.
Lady Cooper
Forgive me, liege, but last time that I checked
King Maga was not ruling here: respect
Is owed, but not a slavish “yea”…
King Starmer
Easy are those words for you to say:
It is not you who’s summoned to his lair
To hear his rants; pluck parchments from the air;
And nod, and smile, and shake his sweaty hand
While he ejaculates his latest plan.
No, my councillors: i‘faith we’re caught
Between two millstones: first, the fraught
Alarums and excursions of this world:
The Saracens and Slavs, their flags unfurled;
Then Maga’s whims; the Europe that we’ve lost;
And promises we made, despite the cost.
I mourn the pomp and gloire that we are missing
And all the while, we’ve got no pot to piss in.
Lady Reeves
That’s millstones more than two, my Lord, I think
King Starmer
Prithee, save thy number-skill, and ink
For the figures which I pay you well to write
In the Exchequer. The question’s this:
Who’s left to plunder?
Where can Morton’s Fork next plunge: for we’re bereft
Of cash – who else has money left?
Lady Rayner
The rich, my lord – there are a few still here
Who can be used to right these base arrears.
In Gerrards Cross, in Harrogate and Hale
And Alderley Edge and Stanford-in-the-Vale
They throng like lizards on a sun-baked wall.
I sense that few would notice it at all
If lavish sums were lifted from their purse.
King Starmer
And that, red sister, leaves us all far worse
Off in the eyes of those whose smile we crave:
The bankers – and, what’s more, earn us the hate
Of the G-seven: or do I mean G-eight?
Lord Lammy
Another problem too, my Lords, it seems:
Most are non-dom: whatever that might mean.
Lady Rayner
We owe it to this land: what part of “soak
the rich” do you not understand?
King Starmer
These arguments I’ve heard: I shall now set
Our policy immutably in stone, so all is clear.
The rich, be they annoyed, can up and go
To Monserrat, or Sark or Monaco.
The poor, however, have no means of flight.
They must needs spend each damp and freezing night
In this cold isle – they are thus our aim.
The old as well, and those who’re sick or lame.
Our royal purse has not the depth to cure
All the sour troubles of these days.
That might have once been so – but, alas:
That time has now long passed.
Lord Lammy
Alas, indeed: this time is deep corrupt
This heavy blow…
King Starmer
Pray do not interrupt me
In full flow.
Lord Lammy
Forgive me, gracious Lord: it shall be so.
King Starmer
Where was I? Ah, yes:
Know therefore, that we no longer can
Mend the weal of those who shrink or shirk
(as some – though not I – say) from honest work.
The system needs, above all else, reform
(Though note my lower-case) – the raging storm
Will break us else in twain: we must prepare
For dread events. The poor must pay their share.
It seems to us, we profit through neglect:
The less they have, the less they will expect.
Lord Streeting
Know then that we have agreed a plan…
King Starmer
Leave it to me, my lord: We surely are
Still fit to speak our mind? Or do you feel
The day has come to see your King replaced?
Lord Streeting
Apologies, my lord: I spoke in haste.
I retract my words, and I abase
Myself before you: watch now how my tongue
Inches forth towards the royal…
King Starmer
Don’t overdo it, Streeting: just keep mum
‘til I require your speech.
That precept goes
For all of you as well: I’ll love you less
If, from Master Chaucer’s printing press,
I read one word of confidence unleashed
What’s said here, stays here: am I clear; capiche?
Lord Lammy
Full clear, my Lord, to lady each and man
But tell us please: pray what’s the cunning plan?
King Starmer
I have this very day instructed our clerks
In Whitehall to prepare a writ
To specify what we will no longer cover
Of the costs that these base knaves
(as some – though not I, note) would call them.
We do henceforth require that they haul them
Selves out of their idleness and sloth.
This serves two ends: and know you all that both
Are mighty pleasing to us – so:
We help these folk to stand on their own feet
And, in the process, keep the bankers sweet.
Lady Rayner
But, my lord, many of these are hapless:
Blind misfortune has smote them many times.
Surely we would be twice unworthy if we now
Added further blows from our own hand?
King Starmer
We note your views: they were both clear and terse
Though would have been improved by rhythmic verse.
However, we are not concerned with blame:
Their langour or bad luck cost us the same.
Lord Streeting
Well said, my lord. I was a poor man’s son
But…
King Starmer
Enough already: please just see this done.
Lord Streeting
That I will, my liege, and that right soon.
King Starmer
And so, we meet here, one week hence, at noon.
(Aside) Now I shall repair myself to sup
I can no longer keep this rhyming up. (Exeunt)
Act One, Scene Two
The King’s Palace In St Pancras
Enter King Starmer and McSweeney
McSweeney
My lord, I bring thee fearful news
A base rebellion is stirred across this land
From sea to sea.
King Starmer
Rebellion? What knavery is this abroad?
McSweeney
Several earls and ladies, good my lord:
Bangor, Barrow, Brent and Battersea
Bootle, Bexleyheath and Bermondsey
Have marched this day – and they are not alone;
For also, in this challenge to your throne,
Are Blackpool, Bournemouth East and Bleanau Gwent
And joining them, in this most foul intent,
Are Bracknell…
King Starmer
Do these rebels all begin with B?
McSweeney
Why, no: they’re listed alphabetically.
King Starmer
I get the picture: we’ll be here all day.
On whom can I rely in these fell times?
McSweeney
I’faith, my liege, it’s very hard to say.
King Starmer
What moves them thus to treasonable deeds?
Whence comes this rank disloyalty
That tests my kindly patience so?
McSweeney
My lord, they claim to represent the poor
And the afflicted: by that instruction
You recently did bid your scribes to draft
Regarding all the succour and the aid
That you did lately give, and now withdraw.
The rebels say that won’t support this writ
King Starmer
What, not at all?
McSweeney
No, not one little bit.
And there are more bad tidings I must bring:
That Masters Caxton, Guttenburg and others
Of their ilk and kidney have printed diverse tracts
Which circulate most freely. These slanders ring…
King Starmer
Such as? Good Sweeney, name them for your king.
McSweeney
Er – “why’s he picking on the poorer men?”
And ‘”time for regime change at Number Ten.’”
King Starmer
This must be met head on, this very night
McSweeney
A U-turn, Lord?
King Starmer
Indeed, I think you’re right.
Please draw some parchment hence and draft your best
Charmed and weasel words to good effect
That will cause some of them to halt this strife.
We shall pause this measure:
Then discuss anew.
I leave the words and details all to you.
Oh – good Sweeney, also add this phrase:
“We know a change is needed right away
But must be done the Plantagenet way.”
McSweeney
And if they wonder why the matter was embarked upon
With intemperate haste –
Not my words, lord, I feel that I must stress
I’m quoting from young Master Caxton’s press.
King Starmer
Tell them – what? That I was sore distracted
By such heavy burdens of this realm
That none can know.
“Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown”:
A perfect phrase, methinks – please write it down
Lest some base playwright claim it as his own…
I like it well…
McSweeney
My liege – your reason must be known.
King Starmer
Indeed – what neatly serves this circumstance?
Ah yes – discussions with the noble kings of France
And Aragon, Castille, and Italy
And the Duke of Greater Germany
About King Maga’s latest crazed crusade
And whether we’d send arms, or whether aid:
All these matters, turned our royal mind
Quite from this welfare thing we’d left behind.
Yes – tell them that, should anybody ask.
It’s widely known that men can’t multi-task.
McSweeney
A very cunning swerve, again, my lord,
That will unhorse them yet.
But, one thing, sire, if I may make so bold,
What next steps with the matter of the gold
That this was meant to save? Does Lady Reeves
Have orchards full of magic money trees?
King Starmer
We mint some more, and keep the matter vague
Just like the last king did in that fell plague.
McSweeney
Indeed: my Lord; well said; it shall be so.
And just one further matter ’ere I go:
Although the ship of state’s now pointing shoreward
What tactic do we call on, going forward?
King Starmer
This rabble throng will surely melt away
Before the words you’ll write, and I will say.
But other storms will break, and fires burn
That can’t be smothered by a swift U-turn.
So this I say – and mark me well again
No matter how the rebels frame their claim;
No matter what the force of Caxton’s stories
We double down, and blame it on the Tories. (Exeunt)
Brian Quinn
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