Gertrude Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Act I

While they have been speaking the newsboys have left the stage and the curtains have opened to reveal Holmes lodgings at 221b Baker Street. Holmes and Watson hand their hats to the Housekeeper and sit down.

HOLMES: Unfortunately the newspapers have realised the advantages to the criminal mind of unrestricted travel at today’s immense speeds, though it is not Manchester that has seized their imaginations but Norfolk.

WATSON [puzzled but trying to look as if he understands]: Good heavens!

HOLMES: You have, however, missed the vital clue, Watson. The bodies were all mutilated, but not mutilated in a brutal manner such as we might expect from one of the drunken denizens of Whitechapel. They were, without exception, slit open and internal organs were removed with a precision which can only be achieved by years of training at the finest of medical schools.

WATSON: But … but … you surely can’t suspect … I mean, no medical man would do such a thing.

HOLMES: In a case like this, Watson, everyone comes under suspicion. I don’t imagine for one moment, Old Friend, that you go round slitting women open in the darkened streets of night, but you should not be surprised to receive a visit from our friend Inspector Lestrade.

The doorbell rings.

WATSON: What shall I do, Holmes?

HOLMES: Pray calm yourself Watson. Unless I’m very much mistaken our visitor is not Inspector Lestrade but a large, heavily built, bearded man wearing a very expensive suit – in fact I may say that I believe him to be of Royal Blood.

Enter Mrs Halibut, the Housekeeper, backwards, very flustered, curtseying repeatedly.

HOUSEKEEPER: Oh, Mr ’Olmes … oh dear, oh dear, I’m all of a doodah … oh Mr ’Olmes … it’s ’im … ’is very self … Oh what an honour … oh whatever shall I do? … Oh, Mr ’Olmes … Oh!

   [No.2. I’m all of a doodah …] [Score]

   I’m all of a doodah, I really can’t think!
   I’m all hot and flustered, my face is quite pink!
   Oh what shall I do if he notices I?
   I think I shall fall down and die!

   Whatever shall I do?
   I feel so dizzy.
   I can’t believe it’s true.
   He isn’t, is he?

   I’m all of a doodah, I really can’t think!
   I’m all hot and flustered, my face is quite pink!
   Oh what shall I do if he notices I?
   I think I shall fall down and die!

   It must be just a dream.
   He can’t be here.
   I think I’m going to scream,
   I feel so queer.

   I’m all of a doodah, I really can’t think!
   I’m all hot and flustered, my face is quite pink!
   Oh what shall I do if he notices I?
   I think I shall fall down and die!

   I really can’t believe …
   It’s true! It’s true!
   [She falls on her knees clasping her hands together]
   For whom we’re to receive …
   coming to see YOU!

HOLMES: Thank you, Mrs Halibut. Would you show the Prince of Wales in?

HOUSEKEEPER: Oh, yes. Yes! [She crawls to the door and flings it open, salaaming wildly and repeatedly] Please to enter, Your Royal ’Ighness … oh lor’ … oh my …

Enter Edward, Prince of Wales. Mrs Halibut crawls out. Holmes and Watson rise and bow. The Prince places his hat and gloves on the table and takes a chair.

PRINCE: Please sit down, Gentlemen.

Holmes takes the other chair. Watson moves into the background.

PRINCE: I have heard, Mr Holmes, that you are something of a detective?

HOLMES: I have trained myself to observe what other men miss, and, by the careful use of logical deduction, to draw the appropriate conclusions from these clues.

PRINCE [glancing at the newspaper on the table]: You take the Times, I see. You may not be familiar with the gutter press.

HOLMES: I have made it my business to find out their views on the Whitechapel murders, Your Royal Highness.

PRINCE: Good man! You see why we have to solve the case and put an end to their infernal speculation. Name your price, Mr Holmes.

HOLMES: It is my patriotic duty as an Englishman to serve you, Sir. I ask for no reward.

PRINCE: Oh, come now. I insist.

HOLMES: Well, Sir, the poor people of Whitechapel have a hard life, and these murders are almost the last straw. Perhaps a donation to Dr Jekyll’s new clinic ...?

PRINCE: You mean Henry Jekyll? Are you a friend of his?

HOLMES: Unfortunately not. Dr Watson is, however, a close friend of Dr Jekyll.

The Prince and Holmes rise. Watson comes forward. The Prince clasps his hand.

PRINCE: Any friend of Dr Jekyll is a friend of mine. I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Dr Watson.

   [No.3. Any friend of Dr Jekyll] [Score]

   Any friend of Dr Jekyll
   is a friend of mine.
   Be he German, French or Greek I’ll
   tell him “Come and dine.”

   Jekyll’s a true philanthropist,
   the sort of man who will never desist
   from doing good works till his in his coffin.
   Would you have thought it of such a bright boffin?
   – the cleverest doctor that I’ve ever known,
   with a bedside manner that’s all his own.

   Any friend of Dr Jekyll
   is a friend of mine.
   Be he German, French or Greek I’ll
   tell him “Come and dine.”

   So the deserving poor all say,
   “If an apple a day keeps the doctor away
   we don’t want no fruit because if we are weak he’ll
   help us and love us the good Dr Jekyll.”
   So that is the reason I say with a grin
   that to Jekyll’s friends I am always in.

   Any friend of Dr Jekyll is a friend of mine.
   If he’s lost and up the creek I’ll
   throw to him a line.
   If he hasn’t got a paddle
   I will lean down from my saddle
   and I’ll pluck him from the brine.
   Any friend of Dr Jekyll is a friend of mine.

PRINCE & WATSON: Any friend of Dr Jekyll
               is a friend of mine!

PRINCE: I’m very glad to meet you, Dr Watson. We must have a talk about Henry Jekyll’s projects to assist the poor people of London. Mr Holmes, I leave everything in your capable hands. I shall make a large donation to Jekyll’s clinic.

The Prince takes up his hat and gloves. Holmes and Watson bow. Watson opens the door. The Housekeeper, who has been listening outside, falls sprawling.

HOUSEKEEPER: Oh Lord!

She begins to crawl out backwards. The doorbell rings. Holmes crosses to the window and looks out.

HOLMES: Inspector Lestrade.   Perhaps, Sir, you would prefer not to be seen?

PRINCE: Umph. Yes.

Holmes opens a door on the other side of the room. The Prince goes through it.

HOLMES: Show the inspector up, Mrs Halibut – and not a word about our visitor.

HOUSEKEEPER: Yes, Mr ’Olmes. No Mr ’Olmes.

Exit the Housekeeper.

WATSON: I don’t understand, Holmes.

HOLMES: What don’t you understand, Watson?

WATSON: How did you know who our visitor was before you saw him? How did you know it was the Prince of Wales?

HOLMES: You know my methods, Watson.

WATSON: Yes. Clues, and that sort of thing. But I still don’t see …

HOLMES: Yesterday I received a telegram telling me to expect His Royal Highness this morning.

WATSON: Oh. Ah. Yes, I see, but what I don’t see is why he came at all. What has the Prince of Wales to do with the Whitechapel murders.

HOLMES: The gutter press claims that his eldest son, the Duke of Clarence, is Jack the Ripper. The Prince has removed the Duke from London to his estate at Sandringham, but Bradshaw’s Railway Guide shows that it is possible to journey to London for the evening and be back home early the next morning.

WATSON: By Jove! That’s what you meant by trains from Norfolk.

HOLMES: Precisely.

Enter the Housekeeper.

HOUSEKEEPER: Inspector Lestrade.

Enter Inspector Lestrade

INSPECTOR: Good morning, Gentlemen. I shan’t keep you long. I expect you know what I’ve come about.

HOLMES: I am a detective, Inspector, not a clairvoyant.

INSPECTOR: The Whitechapel murders. Jack the Ripper. I’ve been taking your advice, Mr Holmes, looking for clues. I think I have a good idea where to look for Jack the Ripper.

WATSON: I assure you, Inspector that it cannot possibly be the Duke of Clarence. The very idea is preposterous.

INSPECTOR: Duke of Clarence? Who said anything about the Duke of Clarence?

WATSON: Even if Bradshaw’s Railway Guide does say that it’s possible to get up to London, do a murder or two and be back at Sandringham for breakfast I still refuse to believe it.

INSPECTOR: I know what you’re up to. Red herrings, eh? Trying to put me off the scent. Well it won’t work.

WATSON: You surely can’t possibly believe it was the Duke!

INSPECTOR: The vital clue, Gentleman, is what the Ripper did to his victims after he killed them. He opened ’em up and cut out some of their innards.

WATSON: I can’t imagine His Royal Highness doing such a thing. You must be mad, Inspector.

INSPECTOR: I did not mention his Royal ’Ighness. You did. I am convinced that the murderer is a trained surgeon. Someone like yourself, Doctor.

WATSON: Me? But …

HOLMES: Your reasoning is impeccable, Inspector, but you surely cannot intend to arrest every doctor in London? Men like Sir Humphrey Lawrence, Sir Nicholas Walpole, Dr Galsworthy, Dr Jekyll?

INSPECTOR: Nobody is above suspicion, not even Dr Jekyll. My suspicion fell on every doctor and surgeon without exception. It was only when Dr Watson began to try to divert my attention to His Royal Highness the Duke of Clarence that I twigged. Dr Watson, I arrest you for the murders of Nelly Smith, Amy Wells, Sarah Simms and seventeen others and I warn you that anything you say …

Enter the Prince.

PRINCE: Wait! I can vouch for this man.

INSPECTOR: And who might you be? [He turns and sees the Prince of Wales]. Oh my holy aunt! Oh Your Royal Highness! Oh dear!

PRINCE: There, there. Don’t “take off so”. That is what one says to these people, is it not, Mr Holmes?

HOLMES: “Take on” I believe, Sir.

PRINCE: Yes of course. Don’t “take on so,” Inspector. As I was saying: I can vouch for Dr … um

WATSON: Watson.

PRINCE: Exactly. He is a close friend of Dr Henry Jekyll.

INSPECTOR: Well, um, Your Royal ’Ighness, with the greatest respect, and meaning no offence if you take my meaning, you see, the thing is … has he got an alibi?

HOLMES: Well, have you, Watson?

WATSON: Last night? I was visiting friends.

INSPECTOR: Which friends?

WATSON: Oh, just some people I know. Very respectable people.

INSPECTOR: Their names, if you please.

WATSON: Well, if you must know, I was visiting Henry Jekyll and his sister, Miss Jekyll.

INSPECTOR: Then no doubt they will corroborate your statement.

WATSON: Er, yes.

INSPECTOR: Good day to you then, Gentlemen. I shall call on Dr Jekyll. Um … good day, Your Royal ’Ighness, meaning no disrespect to Your Good Self.

Inspector Lestrade bows low and backs through the door.

PRINCE: I must go too. Good day, Mr Holmes. Good day, Dr … um … Watkins.

Holmes and Watson bow as the Prince goes out.

HOLMES: Visiting friends, eh Watson?

WATSON: Yes, Holmes.

HOLMES: Then why not tell the Inspector frankly?

WATSON: Ah. Well, you see, Holmes, Jekyll went to his laboratory and left Miss Jekyll and myself alone in the drawing room. I do assure you, Holmes, on my word as an Englishman, that no impropriety occurred, but as you have already remarked, this is the nineteenth century. Whereas in former times it was quite acceptable for an unmarried lady to entertain a gentleman alone, these days it won’t do. Oh, I do hope Jekyll has the sense to say he stayed with us. He’s so wrapped up in his latest experiments, and I should hate anyone to think ill of Miss Jekyll.

HOLMES: Watson, I do believe you have a romantic interest in Miss Jekyll.

WATSON: Ah, Holmes, nothing escapes your eagle eye. Yes, I admit it. I thought I should live a bachelor all my days and be quite content, but that was before I met Miss Jekyll. I tried to keep it secret even from you, Holmes, until I could pluck up courage to speak to her, but know my secret’s out.

   [No.4. The love-song of Dr Watson] [Score]

Once I had a secret love
   that lived within the heart of me,
   but now my secret love’s no secret any more.
   I’ve just met a girl named Miss Jekyll
   sweeter than honey or treacle,
   and she’s the secret love that I adore.
   Gertrude, her name is Gertrude,
   it’s a grand old name,
   and suddenly my life
   will never be the same.
   I’m laughing at clouds,
   so dark up above,
   the Sun’s in my heart
   and I’m ready for love.
   I have often walked
   down that street before
   but the pavement always stayed
   beneath my feet before.
   Suddenly I’m somewhere over the rainbow,
   way up high,
   watching the clouds and rain go,
   watching them all go by.
   The sun has got his hat on,
   so shout hip hip hooray,
   the sun has got his hat on
   and he’s coming out to play.
Ahem …
   Love is a many splendored thing,
   and it makes me feel better than any king.
   Every minute I get bolder.
   There’s a bluebird on my shoulder.
   It’s the truth, it’s actual –
You see, Holmes, my account is entirely factual –

   You can call me a cockeyed optimist
   but every day is like the first day of spring.
   London’s enshrouded in a rosy mist …
   Oh how I wish I knew how to sing …
   I hope, Holmes, it happens to you.
   You’ve got to have a dream,
   if you don’t have a dream
   how the Dickens can you have a dream come true?
   G-G-G-Gertrude, beautiful Gertrude,
   she’s the only girl that I adore.
   G-G-G-Gertrude, beautiful Gertrude!
   Now my secret love’s no secret any more!

HOLMES: I should think not, Watson, now you've broadcast it to half of London.

WATSON: Oh, gosh Holmes, I’d forgotten the window was open. Never mind! I’m proud of my love. Now I’ve spoken out I know exactly what is in my heart – and I’m going to ask Miss Jekyll to be my wife.

HOLMES: Bravo, Watson.

They go out. The curtain falls.

HOLMES: Shall we take a Hansom cab?

WATSON: No. It’s a beautiful day. Let’s walk.

HOLMES: Very well, Watson, but do try to keep your feet on the ground. Love’s all very well, but in this modern age of ours with all this traffic you need to keep a sharp look out if you don’t want to be run down – or step in something nasty. Mind your feet, Watson!

WATSON: What?

HOLMES: Horse droppings, old man. You know, Watson, I can foresee the day when horse-drawn carriages will be a thing of the past. The future lies with steam!

WATSON: Good gracious, Holmes, you surely don’t think that there will be railway trains running about the streets of London?

HOLMES: No, Watson, individual steam-driven cars. They will be so cheap that every gentleman will have his own. Think of the convenience, Watson! To drive from door to door.

WATSON: Too slow, Holmes. The law says that these contraptions must be preceded by a man with a red flag to warn people of the danger. One might as well walk.

HOLMES: Stuff and nonsense, Watson. These old fuddy-duddies in Parliament will soon change their tune when they have their own steam cars. And think of the employment possibilities. Every gentleman with a steam car will need a stoker – though I dare say they’ll be called something much posher and probably in French – chauffeur perhaps. It will be an absolute boon to the poor. And, what’s more, with so many vehicles on the roads there will be a need for men with red and green flags to control all the road junctions.

WATSON: What about at night?

HOLMES: They’ll have red and green lanterns.

WATSON: I did hear that someone in Germany has developed a car that is powered by exploding petrol vapour to drive a piston.

HOLMES: It’ll never catch on, Watson. It’s much too dangerous. Imagine if London were filled with vehicles powered by petrol. There would be enough explosives in the city to blow us all to Kingdom Come. You know, my dear chap, the Germans are all very well as musicians and philosophers, but no-one will ever convince me that they can be good engineers. No, Watson, take my word for it: steam is the power of the future.

   [No.5. My dear fellow, I’ve a dream] [Score]

   My dear fellow, I’ve a dream
   of private cars all powered by steam.
   We’ll all drive from door to door,
   and we’ll benefit the poor,
   for every car will have a bloke
   to shovel coke.

   At every corner there will stand
   a man with flags in either hand,
   and he’ll signal stop or go
   and control the traffic flow.
   He will signal green or red
   to earn his bread.

   My dear chap, in this bright future
   every baker, every butcher
   will deliver to the door.
   You’ll hear nothing but the roar
   of the fires that heat the steam.
   That is my dream.

   Every doctor, lawyer, broker,
   he will have his car and stoker
   and he’ll drive to work and park,
   and at weekends for a lark
   he will take his family
   down to the sea.

   Oh won’t it just be grand?
   On every road throughout the land
   there’ll be steam-cars nose to tail,
   taking Londoners so pale,
   such a never-ending host,
   down to the coast.

Think of it Watson. Every gentleman with his own steam-driven car and his own chauffeur. No more horse-muck on the streets. And there’ll be so many cars that the city fathers will be able to charge for parking. Watson! I foresee traffic wardens! Parking meters! Oh vision of bliss!

WATSON: But think of the pollution.

HOLMES: What pollution. Steam is totally clean.

WATSON: The smoke from all those mobile furnaces.

HOLMES: Smoke never did anyone any harm, Watson. Really, you doctors. Next thing you'll be telling us that smoking tobacco is bad for us.

They laugh.

WATSON: Never!

HOLMES: Ah, here we are. Jekyll’s house.

Holmes and Watson go off.

SCENE 2

The curtains open to reveal Dr Jekyll’s laboratory. Across the back is a row of glass-fronted cupboards or open shelves containing scientific instruments. To the right is a solid-fronted laboratory bench large enough to conceal two actors. At the left is a smallish dining table, covered with a heavy table cloth down to the floor, and a chair. Dr Jekyll is alone. He strides about looking puzzled and worried.

JEKYLL: I can’t understand it at all. My experiment has succeeded. I have liberated the dark side of my being, but why has it no redeeming feature whatsoever? Why is Mr Hyde, as he calls himself, totally and utterly evil?

   [No.6. Why does Mr Hyde not give a damn?] [Score]

   If I am Henry Jekyll, which I am,
   and I care for every pauper
   like a shepherd for a lamb,
   then why does Mr Hyde not give a damn?

   He can watch with equanimity
   and a feeling like sublimity
   the very worst disasters I can think.
   He’ll watch men drown or burn,
   watch torture and not turn
   a solitary hair or even blink.

   Why is Mr Hyde so very wild?
   Why did he run down that tiny child?
   Why does hurting people make his day?
   When I like country rambling
   why should he like gambling
   and running up vast debts he’ll never pay?

   Why should Mr Hyde roam through the streets
   and view as victims everyone he meets?
   When I devote my life to those who’re ill,
   and even make my home among the poor
   and never turn a pauper from my door,
   why should Mr Hyde go out and kill?

   If I am Henry Jekyll, which I am,
   and I care for every pauper
   like a shepherd for a lamb,
   then why does Mr Hyde not give a damn?

Twenty victims so far. If Hyde kills is Jekyll guilty? It is I who have liberated Hyde. It is I who must terminate his existence, but I can think of no way to do it without killing myself. It may come to that, but the experiment must be carried through to the end. I owe it to those poor women who died to ensure that their deaths are not in vain. I must find out why Hyde is so bestial. Only then can I point the way to eliminating cruelty, violence and inhumanity from mankind. Hyde is taking hold of me, but I must go on.

Jekyll seizes a small bottle and drinks the potion it contains.

    [No.7. Transformation: Jekyll – And - Hyde] [Score]

He collapses in agony then throws himself about the stage, eventually falling behind the laboratory bench. And rises to take his place. And is dressed in clothes identical to Jekyll’s but his face is hairy. He performs back-flips, Arab springs and break-falls and then collapses behind the bench. After a moment Hyde’s head rises behind the bench, then Hyde gets to his feet a trifle groggily. He is dressed exactly like Jekyll and And but is smaller than Jekyll. He looks at his hands, then touches his face. Then he grins evilly.

HYDE: I’m back! -- And each time I return that fool Jekyll finds it more difficult to get rid of me. This may be the last time I shall need his potion. He’s at my mercy. I shall come whenever I want. Jekyll will only exist when I permit him! Ha-ha-ha-ha! – What's that? Someone’s coming. Jekyll forgot to lock the door at the far end of the corridor. The potion! Where is it? No! No time. I’m afraid I shall just have to live up to my name. Hyde must hide.

Hyde crouches behind the bench. Enter Gertrude followed by Holmes and Watson.

GERTRUDE: Henry! Dr Watson is here, with his friend Mr Holmes. Henry? Now isn’t that peculiar. I was sure Henry was in his laboratory. He is so obsessed with these experiments of his I can scarcely persuade him to come out even for his meals. I was telling him yesterday about this commission I’ve been given to design a garden and he didn’t even listen. You know my eyesight’s not what it was and I can't see well enough to paint properly, but I can make large scale pictures with plants. It really is terribly exciting but Henry pays no attention at all. He couldn’t wait to get back to his laboratory. Oh! There’s someone there!

WATSON: Come out at once!

Hyde rises from behind the bench. Miss Jekyll clasps her hands to her face in horror.

WATSON: Who are you? Answer me you ruffian!

HYDE: I am Edward Hyde. I am a friend of Dr Jekyll’s. What right have you to question me? How dare you call me a ruffian? You take against my appearance, do you? Because I’m not handsome in the face you think I’m a blackguard! Are you such a pretty picture yourself? Well? Answer me, you ruffian!

WATSON: I...

HOLMES: My friend was taken aback and perhaps over eager in jumping to the defence of Miss Jekyll, who was, naturally alarmed at finding a stranger in her brother’s laboratory. You are a friend of Dr Jekyll’s?

HYDE: The closest of friends. I’m helping him with his experiments. He regards me, in a manner of speaking, as his other self.

WATSON: I apologise for speaking so roughly. Deuced uncivil, I know, but I hope you’ll forgive me. Now that I know you’re a friend of Henry Jekyll’s I hope we shall become better acquainted.

Watson holds out his hand. Hyde, with an evil grin, clasps it.

WATSON: Any friend of Henry Jekyll is a friend of mine.

   [No.8. Any friend of Dr Jekyll: reprise] [Score]

WATSON : Any friend of Dr Jekyll
   is a friend of mine.
   Be he German, French or Greek, I’ll
   tell him, come and dine.

HYDE: Hah! Hah!

WATSON: Ahem!
   Any friend of Henry Jekyll
   is a damn good sort.
   If he’s stranded up the creek I’ll
   help without a thought.

HYDE: Hah! Hah!

WATSON: Ahem!
   Any friend of Dr Jekyll
   is a friend of mine.
   Be he monster, mad or freak, I’ll
   drink his health in wine.

HYDE: Hah! Hah!

WATSON: Ahem!
   I will stick to him like treacle,
   like the honeysuckle twine
   round that friend of Henry Jekyll
   who’s a friend of mine!

HYDE: Hah! Hah! Haaah!

The doorbell rings.

GERTRUDE: Oh, dear that’s the doorbell. Henry had an extension put through to his laboratory in case anyone called while he was working. It’s probably Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard.

WATSON: My dear Miss Jekyll, you amaze me. How can you possibly know Inspector Lestrade intended to come here?

GERTRUDE: Oh it’s quite simple, Dr Watson. Henry has had one of these new-fangled telephones installed. He says every professional man will have to have one.

HOLMES: Dr Jekyll is perfectly correct. You know, Watson, I believe I may have one installed myself.

WATSON: My dear Holmes, one wouldn’t have a moment’s peace with such a thing in the house.

GERTRUDE [calling to the maid offstage]: Show the Inspector through here, Emily.

HYDE: Miss Jekyll, Gentlemen, though I should dearly love to stay and meet the Inspector I am afraid duty calls. Dr Jekyll has given me a number of urgent errands. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll bid you good day.

Hyde leaves hurriedly by the exit door on the right as Inspector Lestrade comes in from the left.

INSPECTOR: Good day, Miss Jekyll. I trust I am not intruding but … oh … Good day to you to, Mr Holmes, Dr Watson.

HOLMES: Watson and I have only just arrived, Inspector. We were hoping for a few words with Jekyll, but it seems that he is out.

GERTRUDE: Oh yes, Inspector, there was such a strange man here, a colleague of Henry’s, but I have to say that I was quite afraid of him and I don’t know what I should have done if Dr Watson and Mr Holmes had not been here.

INSPECTOR: I hope you won’t mind my asking, Miss Jekyll, when it was that you last saw these two gentlemen.

GERTRUDE: Oh, I’ve never seen them before today …

INSPECTOR: Aha!

GERTRUDE: … at least not together, in fact so far as I can recall I have never seen Mr Holmes at all, but then you know my eyesight is not what it was, and if I have seen him before without actually seeing him, then I do hope he will pardon the oversight, but of course Dr Watson has been a frequent visitor here. You are a close friend of my brother’s, are you not, Dr Watson? But you must forgive me, Inspector, for I have completely forgotten what your question was. Did you wish to know the first time I met Dr Watson?

INSPECTOR: No, Ma’am, the last time you saw him before today.

GERTRUDE: Oh, that’s easy. Dr Watson called upon my brother and myself last evening. We had dinner together and then we had a long and interesting conversation about Henry’s research and his new clinic to help the poor people of Whitechapel, and I told Dr Watson about my plans now that my eyesight has become so much worse. I’m afraid I shall have to give up painting, such a pity, but there it is and I suppose that the sort of thing that I do is really going out of fashion now, but it occurred to me that if I were to make an arrangement of colour on a really grand scale I should be able to see quite well enough, and I have always loved plants and gardens. So you see I’m going to start a completely new career as a …

INSPECTOR: Thank you, Miss Jekyll. That was all I wanted to know. I won’t trouble you any further. Good day.

The Inspector leaves back through the house.

HOLMES: I am afraid I shall have to go too.

WATSON: Yes indeed. Goodbye, my dear Miss Jekyll. Lock the door as soon as we have gone, won’t you? I must say I don’t like the look of that fellow Hyde at all, even if he is a friend of Jekyll’s.

Holmes and Watson leave by the laboratory’s door to the street. Gertrude locks it after them. The curtain falls.

INTERLUDE 2

The space in front of the curtain represents a London street. As before Holmes and Watson walk to the centre of the stage then mime walking while people come from the opposite direction and pass them.

HOLMES: I thought there was something you wished to say to Miss Jekyll, Watson.

WATSON: Surely, Holmes, you can see that it was impossible for me to broach such a topic: Jekyll, her only relative in London was absent; Hyde, that abominable dwarf, was present; and then in came Inspector Lestrade. Hardly the occasion for a proposal of marriage.

HOLMES: You are a man of delicate sensibilities, Watson. You know how to approach the gentler sex and when to desist. I fear such niceties are beyond me. I shall probably remain a bachelor till I die.

Arfur and Fanny, a young Cockney couple, come towards them. When Arfur and Fanny reach centre-stage they stop moving and begin to mime walking.   At the same instant Holmes and Watson begin to move and go off stage.

ARFUR: It’s wrong, Fanny! You know it’s wrong!

FANNY: We need ve money, Arfur. You know you ain’t got a job ...

ARFUR: I’ve tried ...

FANNY: I know you have, love, but vere jus’ ain’t ve work.

Arfur begins to cough.

FANNY: Vere, vere, Arfur. Lean on me. You gotta go ’ome. S’not good for you to be out so late. Be dark soon, an’ ve fog’ll be back.

ARFUR: Come home wiv me, Fanny.

FANNY: We need ve money, Arfur. Gennlemen’ll pay for a nice lookin’ girl to keep ’em company.

ARFUR: An wot else?

FANNY: Don’t you worry yourself about vat, Arfur. I can tike care o’ meself.

Arfur has another attack of coughing.

FANNY: Go home, Arfur. Please, before you mike yourself ill.

Arfur nods and drags himself offstage. Fanny looks after him till he has gone.

       [No.9. Maybe it’s wrong …] [Score]

FANNY: Maybe it’s wrong, and maybe it ain’t,
   how would I know? Cos I ain’t no saint.
   And what does it matter if cash changes ’ands?
   It’s love what makes the world go round,
   but it’s money buys the groceries.

   I’d like to be good and settle down
   in a nice little house in London town.
   For that you need money, it don’t grow on trees,
   and you don’t get much when you’re down on your knees
   a-scrubbing at floors from morning till night –
   but still I know that it don’t make it right.

   Maybe it’s wrong, and maybe it ain’t,
   how would I know? Cos I ain’t no saint.
   And what does it matter if cash changes ’ands?
   It’s love what makes the world go round,
   but it’s money buys the groceries.

   Arfur’s a good man, he just ain’t strong,
   and Arfur tells me that it’s wrong,
   but what can I do? I know he’s dying.
   D’you want me to sit at home just crying?
   I’ve got to get money to keep us fed.
   While there’s life there’s hope, but dead is dead.

   Maybe it’s wrong, and maybe it ain’t,
   how would I know? Cos I ain’t no saint.
   And what does it matter if cash changes ’ands?
   It’s love what makes the world go round,
   but it’s money buys the groceries.

   If a gentleman pays to hold my hand
   or to kiss my lips, if he thinks it’s grand
   to parade around with a girl on his arm,
   and he gives me cash, well where’s the harm?
   But what if he wants what a girl shouldn’t give?
   What’ll I do? I want Arfur to live?

   Maybe it’s wrong, and maybe it ain’t,
   how would I know? Cos I ain’t no saint.
   And what does it matter if cash changes ’ands?
   It’s love what makes the world go round,
   but it’s money buys the groceries.

I want ’im to live, but I want ’im to be ’appy. They say Dr Jekyll is going to open a new clinic for poor people. If I can just keep Arfur alive till then maybe there’s ’ope.

The street is now deserted and in semi-darkness. Enter Hyde.

FANNY: Good evening, Sir.

Hyde looks at her then grins evilly at the audience.

HYDE [to audience]: Delicious! Really delicious! [to Fanny] Good evening, my dear.

Hyde offers Fanny his arm. Fanny takes it. Hyde grins again and then leads her offstage.

There is a moment of silence, then Fanny screams, a long piercing, terrified shriek of agony that is suddenly cut short.

All lights go out.

--- { Interval or short period of darkness } ---

Please remember that this musical is copyright. See Copyright and Concessions for permitted uses.

Gertrude Jekyll and Mr Hyde: index

Gertrude Jekyll and Mr Hyde: Act II

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