Return Of The Celestial Pimpernel

With gratitude to Jo Hart, who helped design this.
ACT ONE

**A well-kept study somewhere in England, the walls lined with books, phonograph records, and interesting mechanical contraptions for reproducing sound. JEAN fiddles with one of these, while YVES nurses his brandy in a chair nearby.**

YVES : I have respected your capabilities for a long time, my friend...
JEAN : [absently] The way you pronounce "friend" marks you as a pre-Revolution gentleman. I am considering an independent study on the matter.
YVES : ... but this latest proposal of yours is beyond the pale! Do you seriously contend that the inbred manners and nobility of the aristocracy is determined by nothing more than environment?
JEAN : My dear Yves, I do. I would class myself, quite independently, as the most notable expert on language in London...
YVES : [to himself] And you do.
JEAN : ... and I am capable of identifying the nationality of any person from England - or even France! - once I have heard them speak. And speech, my friend, can be taught. Why, the merest guttersnipe could be accepted into polite society, if only they carried themselves correctly and spoke with a suitable accent.

**JEAN taps one of the recording devices. It starts saying, in JANUS' voice, "The rain in Spain stays mainly on the - oh, dash it all, this is the most confounded bore, Jean. Where did you say the brandy..." JEAN turns it off hastily.**

YVES : [blandly] And discussed the right things.
JEAN : Precisely.
YVES : Let us resolve this matter like gentlemen. I propose a wager.
JEAN : I remember the last time we had a wager.
YVES : [airily] Pure coincidence, my friend, pure coincidence.
JEAN : I am not convinced that an isolated example would necessarily be the optimal way to prove my point.
YVES : Come now, are you saying that you're wrong?
JEAN : Certainly not. What are you suggesting?
YVES : I will supply you with a common guttersnipe, of the sort that you were mentioning earlier. Within a set period - shall we say a month? - we will present her incognito in the London establishment, and see if she can carry it off.
JEAN : [considers a moment] Agreed. [offers his hand to Yves]
YVES : [takes JEAN's hand, and they shake on it] I look forward to observing the triumph of your scientific methods.
JEAN : [as modestly as Elohim get] Rationality conquers all, my friend.

---

**A cold stone room in a tower somewhere in France. ASMODEUS leans by the window, thoughtfully, and BAAL is in the bathtub.**

BAAL : Perhaps you can assure us that the matter is in hand, M. Asmodee?
ASMODEUS : Indeed it is. I have assigned my best agent to it.
BAAL : Not the one who was involved in that fiasco last year with the Pimpernel? What was his name, I can never remember it...
ASMODEUS : [wearily] Kobal. And matters have proved that Citoyenne Lilith was in fact to blame for the downfall of that mission.
BAAL : I particularly liked the signed confession she left behind "in case of anything going wrong" which implicated her in everything all the way back to the Flood.
ASMODEUS : My agents are always prepared.
BAAL : Excellent! I look forward to hearing that we have acquired our TOO, then.
ASMODEUS : TOO, friend citizen?
BAAL : Target of Opportunity. Given the record of Citoyenne Gabriel, it will be easy for the rest of the world to believe that she decided to assassinate M. Kronos - especially when it comes out that her husband is actually the daring Pimpernel, idol of the English and foe to the Revolution.
ASMODEUS : And it will come out.
BAAL : Given those circumstances, it will be no more than our patriotic duty to declare war on England.
ASMODEUS : I do enjoy these Jeux Sans Frontieres. They offer so much more ... opportunity ... than simply within France.
BAAL : And other opportunities as well, friend citizen?
ASMODEUS : I fail to understand you.
BAAL : Merely that lesser spirits might consider you were bearing a PG.
ASMODEUS : PG?
BAAL : Personal Grudge. Not that you would take any pleasure in destroying the Pimpernel and utilising the charming Citoyenne Gabriel?
ASMODEUS : [blandly] It is by the order of the State, and for the good of the State, that I as holder of my office do what has been done, and will do what needs to be done.
BAAL : Good. Good. And what about M. Kronos?
ASMODEUS : Still busy keeping the records of executions. Perhaps we should declare a day of national mourning in his honour?
BAAL : Wait till he's dead, friend citizen. It won't be that long, after all.

---

**A pleasant town house in England. JANUS and GABRIEL enter together, both laughing, evidently having just come back from a ride together. MICHAEL, dressed as a lower-class sea-captain, is waiting for them in the room.**

JANUS : Lud, m'dear, I'm still trying to work out how many streets we left poor David behind!
GABRIEL : At least five. Maybe six. Ah, love, but it's good to have you at my side again, and to hear the police screaming after us the way they always used to.
MICHAEL : [coughs]
JANUS : Aha! 'Tis the bold captain. How sets the wind from France, my friend?
MICHAEL : Seems quiet enough for the moment, my friends. The armies are marshalled, but M. Baal holds them in check. Truth to tell, his strategy suggests he's playing a waiting game.
GABRIEL : [tossing her gloves onto the side table] I am still not convinced that it was wise to name me Ambassador to France, ma cherie. True, I have some connections there...
JANUS : [chivalrously] How could they forget you?
MICHAEL : [grunts] They haven't.
GABRIEL : ... but I am not sure that it is wise. Naturally I am not concerned for my safety - who would be? - but I fear it will not be well received in the Republic.
JANUS : [takes her hand] I realise the risk that I am asking you to run, i'faith, but you will be able to do good work for our League! With Citoyenne Lilith dead and M. Kobal disgraced, my identity should be a secret, and we may hope to rescue many of the poor aristos of France.
GABRIEL : True, my love. I will feel glad to be able to make some contribution, as will my cousin.
MICHAEL : [abruptly looks absent-minded]
GABRIEL : That reminds me. Where is my cousin?
MICHAEL : [hastily] Down at the docks.
GABRIEL : [innocently] Ah, helping outfit the ship. Excellent! He has been a new spirit ever since he was given the chance to help in this venture.
JANUS : Yes, well, m'dear, we all have our part to play. You will be making your curtsey as the new Ambassador soon enough, at the Grand Ball in a week's time.
GABRIEL : And I shall look forward to it! I even promise not to snub the French this time.
JANUS : Ecod! Excellent.
[they embrace, and Gabriel leaves]
JANUS : All right, where is my cousin-by-marriage Laurence?
MICHAEL : For some reason he seems to have taken a dislike to Andrea, and he's been taking any job that'll get him out of her reach. Can't think why. The girl's always been perfectly open and straightforward with him.
JANUS : As a matter of fact, old friend, I may have a solution to that one...

---

**A disused warehouse, clearly by the docks from the noises offstage. KOBAL sits on a crate fastidiously, notepad and quill pen in his hands. DIZZY the Lilim nestles on the floor near him, her dress strangely similar to that of GABRIEL.**

KOBAL : Gabby... no, no, that won't do.
DIZZY : Mm, boss?
KOBAL : Tell me, Diz - Citoyenne Dizzy - how would you expect to be addressed if you were an insufferable aristocrat covered in jewels with a loving husband and an expensive lifestyle?
DIZZY : [develops dreamy look] Ma cherie. Mon amour.
KOBAL : [dryly] Mental masturbation is only fun for me when I'm doing it, pet. By your cousin.
DIZZY : [reluctantly emerging from the daydream] Can't I just have him as a lover too? The State Journal says that all those evil aristocrats go round with a dozen lovers at a time.
KOBAL : Strange as it may seem, the State Journal is not always entirely accurate.
DIZZY : [attempts to look shocked] Really?
KOBAL : Except on a meta-level, of course, where truth and lies blend into a seamless tapestry of fiction, stapled over the raw bleeding holes in reality and finished off with the emphatic signature of the Republic.
DIZZY : [awed] Boss, that's beautiful.
KOBAL : Thank you. Thank you very much. At least someone appreciates it. Hopefully in time a publisher will agree with you.
DIZZY : [thoughtfully] This wouldn't have anything to do with those recent treason trials among the publishing firms, would it, Boss?
KOBAL : [blandly] Pure coincidence.
DIZZY : [plucks a gerbil from her bodice and toys with it]
KOBAL : How about this? "Dear cousin..." hm, no, how about, "Dear and perfect cousin, light of my heart, preserver of my existence?"
DIZZY : [critically] Might be a little florid, Boss.
KOBAL : Nonsense, it's well known that Laurence needs a paragraph of melodrama to tell someone to get off his foot. Hm. Imagine you were his cousin, Diz. What'd bring you running to his side?
DIZZY : News that we'd captured him?
KOBAL : [darkly] We tried that last time.
DIZZY : He's got hurt somehow and he's embarassed about anyone else finding out?
KOBAL : [absently] Let me see. [he scribbles] "Dear cousin, I have contracted the pox. I knew I should have taken your advice about prostitutes..." No, no, it's tempting, but no.
DIZZY : A duel?
KOBAL : That might work. "Dear cousin," [he scribbles] "I have been wounded in an affair of honour. I cannot understand how this happened, as I charged straight into it just as I always do..."
DIZZY : [nervously] We want it to be believable, Boss.
KOBAL : [sighs, crosses the last line out] Censorship, censorship, always censorship. Hm. "I have been wounded in a duel, and cannot bear to have anybody else know about this. For the love you bear me, I beseech you to come alone to the..." What's the address here again, Diz?
DIZZY : The Senate Warehouse, Boss.
KOBAL : [continues writing] "To the Senate Warehouse on the docks, to bind up my wounds and press your hot feverish hands against my lips and..."
DIZZY : [coughs]
KOBAL : [crosses out more] "To bind up my wounds, and to help me conceal this matter until I am healed. Pour l'amour de Dieu, I ask your help. Your cousin Laurence."
DIZZY : Pour l'amour de Dieu, Boss?
KOBAL : A foolish conceit. Everybody knows that God is dead.
DIZZY : Oh. Ha ha. Of course.
KOBAL : [folds the letter, and seals it] There. That should bring her running. Then let her attempt to fool M. Asmodee again. I believe they were made for each other.
DIZZY : They don't seem awfully alike, Boss.
KOBAL : Another conceit, pet. It's clear that the only way you can tell if two things were made for each other is if they destroy each other, as perfect happiness is impossible and therefore improbable. The only perfection is perfect destruction. Is that clear?
DIZZY : Um. Yes, Boss.
KOBAL : There's a pet. Now get up, and let's see you practice your aristo impersonations. The longer her friends think she's still somewhere in England, the longer our esteemed colleagues will have to work on her in France.
DIZZY : [gets up and starts mincing around the room, trying to look sophisticated]
KOBAL : [wearily] Do try and look happy, pet.
DIZZY : Are you joking, Boss? I'm a Lilim. Angst is my cultural heritage. Along with being cuddly and nothing if not fun. It's a dreadful burden. And what's my motivation for this scene, anyhow?
KOBAL : Imagine the Place de la Guillotine, Diz. Imagine the feeling of the block beneath you, all wet with the blood of the last person there. Imagine the way your hands are tied behind you, and imagine looking down into the basket and seeing the blank staring heads looking up at you.
DIZZY : [looking sick] That's my motivation?
KOBAL : Think about it. I'll just see to finding a guttersnipe or two to take this letter to the Citoyenne. Nothing like the early morning mail to brighten up your day.

---

ACT TWO

**Same well-kept study as in ACT ONE. JEAN casts a paternal eye on a nervous-looking ANDREA, YVES standing by her.**

JEAN : Now, now, my dear, no need to worry. I assure you that the rumours you may have heard about the aristocracy are entirely untrue.
ANDREA : [sotto voce] Damn.
YVES : As I said, my friend Janus was good enough to recommend this young lady as someone who would be glad to acquire the polish of respectable manners.
ANDREA : [dimpling] I'll do anything for a good French polish.
JEAN : [a beat] Fortunately you are among the English. Any French spoken here will have a strong English accent.
ANDREA : A foreign accent always sounds sexy!
YVES : [blandly] Good luck, old friend. Should I come back tomorrow?
JEAN : [contemplative] Somehow I suspect a week would be safer.

[YVES exits. ANDREA attempts to sidle round behind JEAN while he is fiddling with a gramophone]

JEAN : Sit, girl, sit! Good heavens, I'd have better luck with a spaniel.
ANDREA: [hurt] I'll have you know I'm very capable! I can read the pictures in all sorts of books - including Indian ones! - and I can... [beckons JEAN closer to whisper into his ear]
JEAN : Tennis balls? Good gracious. [draws back optimally] Well, you certainly won't need to use any of those skills here. You will be trained in the skills of polite society, conversation, posture...
ANDREA : Oh, I know all about posture.
JEAN : [firmly] Not that sort of posture.
ANDREA : [pouting] But I always find bald men so sexy.
JEAN : You were misinformed.
ANDREA : You mean I'm not going to learn all about the sex secrets of high society and ancient Atlantis?
JEAN : Who told you that?
ANDREA : It was on the letter from M. Janus. He said that I'd be learning about manners, the aristocracy, and the sex secrets of high society and ancient Atlantis.
JEAN : You may consider that letter to have been precisely half accurate.
ANDREA : Fine. That does it. [flounces out of chair] I'm off back to my sea-captain. [wrenches at door, discovers it is locked]
JEAN : [waits patiently till ANDREA finishes kicking at the door] My dear young woman, you may roll around on the ground and kick and scream as much as you like...
ANDREA : [starts doing so]
JEAN : [over ANDREA's yelling] ... but I assure you that you will not be leaving this house until we have a substantial improvement in manner and mode. For a start, you are yelling in a French accent, which is less than optimal...

---

**A back alley, in front of a disused-looking warehouse in the docks. GABRIEL enters, led by a disreputable boy (NYBBAS).**

GABRIEL : This had better be the right warehouse, boy. We have spent the last half-hour wandering past warehouses. And if my poor cousin is wounded...
NYBBAS : Guided tour, m'lady. Up and down the river. Sure I can't get you an apron with a picture of the Thames on it?
GABRIEL : [coils of smoke begin to rise]
NYBBAS : Souvenir notepad? 101 Duels of London coffee demitasse? Broadsheet with the day's latest thefts on it? [glances over his shoulder at her, notices the smoke, turns white] Er, we're here.
GABRIEL : Good. Now, where is my poor wounded cousin?
NYBBAS : Just inside, m'lady. Proper pitiful he looked, with all that oozing blood and stuff.
GABRIEL : And you left him there?
NYBBAS : [hastily] Insisted, he did, m'lady. Told me to take that letter to you, wouldn't take no for an answer. Lying there he was, all noble-looking, saying, "My beloved cousin must know, but nobody else. She is the only one I can trust." Then he bled some more.
GABRIEL : [snorts] I have a few more instructions for you, lad. First [removes purse, drops a few shillings into his palm] here is some payment for your kindness in helping my cousin. Secondly, you are to hurry back to where we left my carriage, and have the driver bring it here.
NYBBAS : [knuckles brow appropriately] Of course, m'lady. I'll do it at once.

[GABRIEL nods distractedly, turns and hurries into warehouse. KOBAL and DIZZY step round from the corner of the alley where they had been concealed]

KOBAL : Well done, my boy. Perhaps you have some potential after all.
DIZZY : [sotto voce] Him, Boss? The highest he'll ever get is selling broadsheets.
KOBAL : Don't be petulant, Dizzy. The State Journal always needs new writers. [pats NYBBAS on the shoulder, then looks at his hand, and carefully wipes it on DIZZY's cloak]
NYBBAS : I did good, huh, boss?

[Smoke begins to waft from the windows of the warehouse]

KOBAL : [eyeing the smoke] Certainly. Now just stand with your back against the door there for a moment, and warn me if you notice any sudden rises in temperature.
NYBBAS : [does reluctantly as he is told]
DIZZY : [cheerfully] Don't worry about me, Boss. I'll be just fine. [edges in the general direction of away]
KOBAL : Tch tch, my girl. None of that. You'll stand your ground like a loyal daughter of the Revolution who lives or dies at my whim.
DIZZY : [smartly] Standing my ground, Boss.
KOBAL : [listens thoughtfully] Yes, I'm sure they've got her under control by now...

[Violent noises of fire and explosions heard from inside]

KOBAL : I have the utmost confidence in our Safety Procedures Research Division.
DIZZY : Not M. Vapula, boss?
KOBAL : The very same. Though he did mention some possible side-effects...

[Green foam starts oozing out from around the door. NYBBAS hastily retreats. The sound of explosions dies away]

KOBAL : Ah well, that's better. Dizzy, my girl, you have your orders. Finish with Citoyenne Gabriel's daily engagements, then head off into the countryside and leave as big a false trail as you can. I'll just be off with this little package for France. Something to warm the cockles of the Tribunal's hearts.
DIZZY : They've got hearts?
KOBAL : Ah, the happy delusions of the young.

---

**JEAN's study. ANDREA sits in one of the overstuffed armchairs, kicking idly at her skirts, and balancing a marble on her tongue.**

PAGEBOY : [entering] Lady to see you, madame.
ANDREA : [around the marble] Send her in.

[PAGEBOY leaves]

ANDREA : [muttering to herself around the marble] I don't know why he's got me practicing this stuff. I could tie two cherry stems with my tongue before I'd even put my hair up...

PAGEBOY : [entering again] The Lady Gabriel!

[DIZZY enters, cloak drawn up around her face, doing her best to look aristocratic]

ANDREA : [blinks, swallows marble] You can go. [waves pageboy out]
DIZZY : Ah, good day, young citoyenne. I see that I was supposed to be visiting you today... [subtly checks list scribbled on her wrist under her sleeve]

[PAGEBOY leaves]

ANDREA : Dizzy! [runs to hug her] What are you doing in that getup?
DIZZY : Oh. You recognise me?
ANDREA : Of course I do. Silly! How could I ever forget dear Dizzy, and that wonderful time we had together in Paris with the trained ferrets, the yoghurt, and the...
DIZZY : [sniffs] I'm a major political manipulator now.
ANDREA : You are?
DIZZY : Well, that's what the Boss says. Then he guillotines more carrots. I think he had a bad experience with carrots when he was young or something.
ANDREA : It's probably psychological, yes. Perhaps you should help him through it with visual aids.
DIZZY : Oh, I do, I do, but then he keeps on threatening to guillotine the gerbils. [pats her bodice]
ANDREA : So what are you doing here?
DIZZY : Can I trust you?
ANDREA : [offended] Of course!
DIZZY : It's a top secret mission...

[Steps are heard on the stairs. The two girls look around nervously, then ANDREA points to a hanging pair of velvet curtains, and they scurry behind them. JANUS, JEAN and LAURENCE enter]

LAURENCE : Odd. My cousin's carriage was in the street below. I was sure that she would be here.
JANUS : Oddzooks, 'tis doubtless another of her merry ways. She has probably stolen off to do something charmingly reckless... [he frowns] Then again, you may have a point.
JEAN : [looking around] I thought my student would be here, too, but perhaps she has retired to her rooms out of maidenly modesty.
LAURENCE : [turns an interesting shade of red] Unlikely.
JEAN : You underestimate the power of rational teaching.
JANUS : I must say that I doubt even you could manage to make a lady out of Mademoiselle Andrea...
ANDREA : [steps out from behind curtain, looking highly annoyed, and curtsies] Good morning, M. Janus, M. Laurence, M. Jean. I do hope that you are all well.
JANUS : [stares blankly in shock]
LAURENCE : Dieu, it's a miracle.
JEAN : Merely the optimal use of lessons.
ANDREA : [curtsies again] How is the weather today? I am sure that it is better than yesterday. Of course, the country wants some rain.
LAURENCE : [eyes curtain narrowly, draws his sword] A rat, a rat i'th'arras!
ANDREA : [losing her manners, throws herself on LAURENCE] No! No, don't!
LAURENCE : [tries to manage sword and ANDREA at the same time]
JANUS : [walks across, rips curtain back] Why, 'tis my wife!
DIZZY : [hiding behind cloak] Um, yeah.
JANUS : Then again, m'dear, care to remove that concealing garment?
DIZZY : No! Non, msieur, I have this sudden spot on my nose which I cannot bear any man to see!
JANUS : Curious. Who can this be?
ANDREA : [still hanging onto LAURENCE, despite his best efforts] I have no idea whatsoever, but I'm sure she's really a nice innocent person!
JEAN : Nonsense. From her linguistic style I can tell that she is a Lilim, that she has spent most of her life in France, and that [he pauses] she is attached to Dark Humor.
ANDREA : [a little overdoing the horror] No! Surely not!
DIZZY : [flinches, hands going to her bodice, and runs to the window, throwing something out] Fly, my pretty! Fly!
JANUS : [does incredible last-minute interception, catches item in his hand, looks at it, pauses] A gerbil!
DIZZY : [furious] Don't you hurt my Noelle!
LAURENCE : [to JEAN] I thought the accursed Republic had abolished Christmas.
JEAN : [to LAURENCE] I thought they had abolished gerbils too, but apparently no such luck.
JANUS : [to DIZZY] And tell me, my dear, what does M. Kobal want with me now? No lies, mind you, or the gerbil suffers!
DIZZY : [horrified] You wouldn't hurt a poor innocent little gerbil?
LAURENCE : Of course not. That would be utterly dishonourable...
JEAN : [steps on LAURENCE's foot, hard]
LAURENCE : ... but I am prepared to duel it to the death if necessary.
JEAN : [mutters to LAURENCE] The threats may need some more work.
DIZZY : [falls to her knees] Please don't hurt the gerbil! I'll tell you everything! Just let me go and powder my nose.
JANUS : I've been caught that way before, m'dear.
ANDREA : Oh, sir, please don't hurt poor Dizzy! She's just an innocent like me, and I'm sure she's been led into evil ways by the cruel malicious Republic!
JANUS : Just give us the facts, mademoiselle.
DIZZY : [chews her lip] And you'll let me go?
JEAN : We will seriously consider it.
DIZZY : [considers her options, then very fast] M. Kobal sent a false message to Citoyenne Gabriel and led her into a trap and is shipping her for France and they've got an evil plot because they always have an evil plot and I was supposed to confuse you all and now can I go? Please?
LAURENCE : What?
JANUS : Egad! The impudence of those Frenchies beggars belief! How dare they kidnap my beloved wife, ship her abroad as though she were some brown-paper parcel, and plot to make use of her! Damn their hides! I'll sail for France this very day and...
JEAN : [coughs]
JANUS : What?
JEAN : Excuse me if I am wrong - though I never am - but I believe that your wife is due to take up her position as Ambassador to France in five days, and has to be at the Grand Ball then.
LAURENCE : Mon Dieu, those Republican scoundrels! [puts hand on JANUS' arm] Fear not, my friend. We'll be across to France within the day, and have my cousin back before they've done more than use harsh language. I swear it!
DIZZY : [sidles towards door, slips through it, exits]
JEAN : [calmly] Easier still if they do not know that we know.
JANUS : A neat enough idea, my friend, but it's difficult to hide the fact that my wife isn't around.
JEAN : A matter that you will attend to. In the meantime, that Lilim...

[General consternation as they realise DIZZY is missing]

DAVID : [enters, dangling DIZZY by scruff of neck] Does this belong to anybody? I found her slinking round downstairs, and she assaulted me with a gerbil.
LAURENCE : Assaulted?
DAVID : She thrust it in my face. It squeaked. I choose to interpret that as armed assault.
JANUS : My friend, you come in good time. We mustn't let our little spy here get any news to M. Kobal. Sit down, have some brandy, and listen...

---

**A dungeon corridor, with several cells off it. One cell door stands open, BAAL and ASMODEUS beside it. The whole place is inexpressibly gloomy and depressing, as far as our budget allows.**

ASMODEUS : [checks watch] I calculate that we have approximately fifty seconds.
BAAL : [tilts head] Are you sure? I think that seventy-five seconds to ZH is more likely.
ASMODEUS : [wearily] ZH?
BAAL : Zero Hour.
ASMODEUS : And on what do you base this calculation?
BAAL : On the fact that we can only just now hear your agent screaming.

[on cue, there are male screams from offstage]

ASMODEUS : [mildly annoyed] He should run faster.
BAAL : I am sure that he is doing his best.

[more screams, closer]

BAAL : Tell me again about how eagerly he volunteered for this part of the mission?
ASMODEUS : Perhaps it was a slip of my tongue. I remember saying something about the most important part of the entire mission, necessitating only a brisk walk through the Bastille. Possibly he misunderstood at the time.

[screams are closer still, with the odd explosion]

BAAL : Thus proving that the devil is in the details.

[KOBAL enters, scorched, and sprints past BAAL and ASMODEUS, collapsing to hands and knees at the end of the corridor. GABRIEL stalks in after him, wreathed in flames, and looking absolutely furious]

BAAL : Ah, the charming Citoyenne Gabrielle.
GABRIEL : [glancing between the men] I perceive that, as ever, the Tribunal is to be found by rooting beneath the deepest stones.
ASMODEUS : And yet you seek us out.
GABRIEL : Pure happenstance. Unless, by some strange chance, you should have something to do with my being kidnapped from the loving bosom of my husband and my adopted land?
BAAL : Merely an astonishing coincidence. [takes a step towards GABRIEL, voice grows creamy smooth and utterly believable] We are here to help you.
GABRIEL : [pauses, then shakes her head. The flames flicker] Not so fast, M. Baal. I know that I cannot trust you.
BAAL : [soothingly] Of course not. You cannot trust anybody. You need to be somewhere safe, somewhere that your husband will know where to find you.
GABRIEL : [slowly, flames sinking] Bank my fires, yes...
BAAL : [stepping closer, eyes fixed on hers] You need to be somewhere safe.
GABRIEL : [almost dreamily, fires sinking lower and fading away] Yes. I need to be somewhere safe.
BAAL : [reaches out, takes her arm, turning her towards the open cell door] Deep behind the stone and safe. Your husband will come and find you here.
GABRIEL : [blinking slowly] He will... come and find me. I need to...
BAAL : You need to stay here.
GABRIEL : [with BAAL's inflection] I need to stay here.
BAAL : [gently moving GABRIEL towards the cell] Stay here and rest. You are tired.
GABRIEL : [letting herself be directed, eyes closing] Tired. I need to stay here and rest.

[BAAL escorts GABRIEL into the cell, then steps briskly out and snaps the lock shut. ASMODEUS lowers the bar across the door. KOBAL attempts to brush smouldering cinders out of his clothing and hair.]

ASMODEUS : How long will that hold?
BAAL : Not very long. But long enough, my esteemed colleague. Quite long enough. And her friends in England will have no idea where to look for her.

---

DIZZY : [leaning out of the window of a prison cell] Little did they know that Noelle is a homing gerbil. Swim, my little one, swim!

---

ACT THREE

**The inside of a prison cell, stone-walled, with a door in which is a small closed slot window. GABRIEL sits by the smouldering remains of her mattress, which dimly illuminate the room.**

[the slot window in the door slides open, and a thin beam of light falls into the room, slanting across GABRIEL, who does not move]

ASMODEUS : [voice only] Citoyenne.
GABRIEL : [head still bowed] You waste your time, M. Asmodee.
ASMODEUS : I do?
GABRIEL : Do not think that I will betray my beloved husband, or that I will again be fooled into serving your Tribunal.
ASMODEUS : Really.
GABRIEL : You cannot fool me this time. I know better than to trust you.
ASMODEUS : I hope that you like the view from your window.
GABRIEL : M'sieur, there is no window.
ASMODEUS : What a pity. I will have to arrange for a window.
GABRIEL : Why should I wish to waste my time staring out of a window?
ASMODEUS : [voice dead] You might enjoy watching the flight of the birds beyond. I am told that many prisoners enjoy watching the flight of the birds.
GABRIEL : [dryly] You, of course, are not interested in the flight of the birds.
ASMODEUS : Citoyenne, I am not a prisoner.
GABRIEL : Ah. Of course. You are no mere pawn of the others. You control your little games. You control France. You control...
ASMODEUS : You.
GABRIEL : I think not.
ASMODEUS : Would you care to wager on it?
GABRIEL : Certainly. I believe I left my purse outside.
ASMODEUS : Your attempts at humour are frivolous.
GABRIEL : That is what humour is, M. Asmodee! Have you never realised that? It is plain that your menial, M. Kobal, is quite uneducated on the matter.
ASMODEUS : [voice eerily calm] There is no such thing as humour. It is a delusion for the weak.
GABRIEL : [moves for the first time, turning to look towards the door] Then are you never merry?
ASMODEUS : I am - on occasion - satisfied by some outcome.
GABRIEL : How cold.
ASMODEUS : You desire more?
GABRIEL : I am more.
ASMODEUS : I know.
GABRIEL : [voice still quite calm] Release me.
ASMODEUS : You will be able to watch the seasons turn from your window. Winter to summer, and back to winter again. Nothing will harm you, here in your cell. The stone walls will confine you, safe from the world outside, and you can watch the lives of those outside - and their deaths - in perfect peace. No more winds to trouble you, no wars to affright you. You can exist here as you should.
GABRIEL : [voice beginning to shake] You fail to understand me.
ASMODEUS : I understand you better than you understand yourself. Fire must be controlled, Citoyenne.
GABRIEL : Do you think that I will submit to this?
ASMODEUS : You have no choice.
GABRIEL : Oh?
ASMODEUS : [voice calm] You have no choice. Can you open this door? Can you so much as touch me?
GABRIEL : If I could touch you, M. Asmodee, I do not think that you would waste your time in saying that I had no choice.
ASMODEUS : That is why you are caged.
GABRIEL : [softly] Oh, when I am free of here, I will show you such burning.
ASMODEUS : You will not be free.

[the slot window on the door clicks shut, plunging the room into shadows again]

---

**The square outside the Bastille. Two large Djinn GUARDS stand at the gate, leaning on muskets. JANUS and LAURENCE loiter in the shadows of an alley, both in sans-culottes, tatty shirts, and greatcoats large enough to hide a brace of pistols and rapiers. JANUS wears an exuberant moustache.**

LAURENCE : Are you convinced that this will work?
JANUS : Bless my heart, m'boy, it always works! I've run this stunt half a dozen times already, and they've never failed to fall for it.
LAURENCE : [brow furrows]
JANUS : [hastily] Though never mind that now. Just try and glower a little more, and remember that your slightest word can topple aristocratic heads into the gutters. [mutters] Including ours.
LAURENCE : 'Pon faith, it is a hard thing to act so dishonourably! We are required to sneak in the shadows, crawling like the same scum which we are sworn to fight, impersonating their unsavoury personal habits, and we must befoul ourselves with lies and trickery in an attempt to outmatch them. Surely there must be some better way than this! Pardieu, is it too much to ask some honourable solution to life, some way in which a man may live and die, if die he must, unstained by vice and deceit?
JANUS : Cousin, we already tossed, and you lost. Put the chains on.
LAURENCE : May I see that coin of yours?
JANUS : [innocently] I really don't know who's been corrupting your mind with these strange notions. Coin, coin, I know I have it somewhere... tell you what, we'll take a look later.
LAURENCE : [sighs, dons a pair of obvious manacles and tries to look defeated]
JANUS : Very nice.

[JANUS takes hold of the manacles, and leads LAURENCE across the square towards the Djinn GUARDS at the gate. The GUARDS both lift their muskets as the two approach]

GUARD1 : Halt. Who goes there.
JANUS : Agent of you-know-who, with a you-know-what for you-know-where.
GUARD1 : I didn't know he had those sorts of tastes.
JANUS : No, no, not you-know-who, you-know-who.
GUARD1 : Oh. Why didn't you say so.
GUARD2 : Wait a moment. But why does he want him for you-know-where.
JANUS : Because he's a horrendously dangerous prisoner.
GUARD1 : Him? Horrendously dangerous?
GUARD2 : Don't make me laugh.
LAURENCE : [gives both guards a dead-level steely ice-cold glare]
GUARD1 : [hastily] Horrendously dangerous prisoner, right. And you're acting on the authority of... look, can we just leave off the muttering and say it?
JANUS : Let me take you into my confidence, my friends.
GUARD1 : Haven't got any friends.
GUARD2 : Don't want any friends.
JANUS : [leaning forward] Then of course you won't care that I'm the personal top agent of... [pauses impressively] M. Kobal. And that this prisoner is - we think - an agent of the Pimpernel.
GUARD1 : [impressed, peering at Laurence] Yeah. You could be right. He's got that aristocratic look, that kind of stiff-upper-lip insouciance, that forthright gaze and...
LAURENCE : Do you mind?
GUARD2 : That's one of them, all right. Okay.

[GUARDS move aside from door, letting JANUS lead the chained LAURENCE inside. About half a minute later, KOBAL comes advancing across the square, charred clothes changed for new ones]

GUARD1 : Halt. Who goes there.
KOBAL : Kobal, of the Committee for National Security. Do you have nothing better to do than to demand my name?
GUARD2 : It's our job. I dunno, though. I've always thought I'd be good as a torturer. Nice warm environment, plenty of bits of pointy metal to put in order...
KOBAL : Ah, the uncaring in pursuit of the intangibles. [pauses] You can laugh now.
GUARD1 : Didn't someone else say that first?
KOBAL : Not as elegantly.
GUARD1 : No, seriously, I thought there was this English bloke...
KOBAL : Reading English authors, are we? Contrary to the ideals of the Revolution, hm?
GUARD1 : [snaps to attention] No, sir! Never, sir! Just heard it fall from the lips of some struggling prisoner I was putting the boot into, sir! Screaming it in agony, he was, sir! Wouldn't consider going near a book usually, sir!
KOBAL : Hm. [aside] The trick is the timing. I personally find that the most beautiful moment is when they've dug themselves further in than they could ever have managed if they'd never started. The irony of it is one of the few things that makes the world at all bearable. It's the blankness in the eyes, then the slowly dawning realisation... god, I love my job. [to the guard] Hm. And do you do that often?
GUARD1 : Glug.
GUARD2 : [hastily] Your agent just took the prisoner in, sir.
KOBAL : Which agent?
GUARD2 : Dunno, sir. He clearly worked for you, though. Knew all the passwords.
KOBAL : I don't have passwords.
GUARD2 : Oh. He knew them, though.
KOBAL : Why am I served by such idiots? Wait, I know the answer to that one. Let's try a different question. Describe him.
GUARD2 : Um, he was tall, had a big moustache, looked sort of normal. Had this prisoner with a steely-eyed look who he said worked for the Pimpernel. Went right in, M. Kobal, just ahead of you.
KOBAL : A moustache. Can it be... no, surely not. They couldn't possibly have found out.

[a gerbil comes speeding across the square, as though jet-propelled, and leaps into KOBAL's arms. A message is tied to its neck by a green ribbon. Both GUARDS level their muskets at it (and at KOBAL)]

GUARD1 : Invasion!
GUARD2 : Revolution!
KOBAL : I am much impressed by your enthusiasm, gentlemen, but it's just a gerbil.
GUARD1 : Counter-revolutionary gerbil attacks? Those English think of everything.
KOBAL : [removes the message from the gerbil's neck, scans it, sighs]
GUARD2 : Good eating on one of those things.
KOBAL : Ah, Diz, Diz, can I not trust you to manage even one little job without fouling it up? So much for depending on people who make an artistic fashion out of their angst. [turns to the guards] Gentlemen, I need three things. The first is a well-armed squad of troops. The second is the general alarm sounded.
GUARD1 : And the third, sir?
KOBAL : A gerbil-sized guillotine. Mustn't put off the business of the State, even for personal pleasures.

[KOBAL heads into the Bastille, still petting the gerbil, followed by the GUARDS]

---

**A high-society dress shop in England. DAVID and JEAN sit on chairs along the wall, looking equally bored (though for different reasons). Various maids are fussing round behind a set of screens.**

JEAN : [scribbles on a notepad] I believe that the efficiency of this process could be raised by at least forty per cent. There is a high redundancy factor.
DAVID : They giggle.
JEAN : [scribbling] Also, I have been offered coffee five times now, despite requesting tea. This suggests a blockage in their channels of communication. I will draft a monograph to that effect.
DAVID : They wave their hands.
JEAN : Furthermore, those screens are inefficient. I can quite clearly see the lady, ah, Gabriel through them.

[horrified looks from the maids, who hastily adjust the screens]

DAVID : Why were you looking?
JEAN : Spot-testing.
DAVID : Is that what it's called?
JEAN : Frequent checks are the pathway to efficient processes.
DAVID : How is your tutoring going?
JEAN : Quite well, or I could not have brought her out in public like this.
DAVID : Do you think that she will be able to pose convincingly as Gabriel in public?
JEAN : We still have two days.
DAVID : You are avoiding my question.
ANDREA : [emerges from behind screens, in black silk underwear, hair styled in imitation of GABRIEL] No! This is abominable! I will not submit!
MAID : [following her] Madame, madame, the gentlemen will see you in the altogether!
ANDREA : [sotto voce] I damn well hope so. Nothing else has worked yet.
JEAN : What is it, my dear?
ANDREA : [clinging to his arm] It is dreadful, m's.. er, sir. They want to dress me in red, and it's really not my colour.
DAVID : I thought you were the original scarlet woman.
ANDREA : [shifts her grapple to DAVID, makes melting eyes] They say so? Really?
JEAN : [clears throat] My dear Gabriel, you forget that you originally ordered this gown in red.
ANDREA : [blinks] Oh.
JEAN : Doubtless your enthusiasm for the Ball has confused you.
ANDREA : [batting eyelashes at DAVID] Couldn't you come and tell me if it fits too tightly?
DAVID : [stonily] I know nothing about dresses.
ANDREA : I could teach you!
JEAN : [aside] The mind boggles.
DAVID : I know nothing about dresses. I wish to remain in that state of blissful ignorance.
ANDREA : You're so unliberated.
DAVID : Absolutely. Go back and get dressed.
ANDREA : [wanders back sulkily] Everything they say about English public schools is clearly true. Bah.
DAVID : [sitting down again] Remind me again that this was the optimal course of action. Wasn't that your phrase?
JEAN : This way, the French are confused. Besides, who else could have impersonated Gabriel? That frivolous whistle-bait Miss Novalis?
DAVID : An interesting use of the vernacular.
JEAN : [darkly] I have not forgotten that time she attempted to - what was it she called it? - "reorganise my recordings holistically".
DAVID : Have you ever found some of them?
JEAN : Logically, they have to be somewhere in that room.
DAVID : You haven't.
JEAN : It is merely a matter of time.
DAVID : Just as Andrea is?
JEAN : Optimally, Janus and Laurence will return from France with her before the Ball.
DAVID : And if they do not?
JEAN : Then the situation may be described as desperate.
ANDREA : [emerging from behind screens again, in red velvet] Are you sure this is cut low enough on the bosom?
JEAN : Very desperate.

---

**The prison cell in the Bastille. GABRIEL sits on the charred remains of her mattress, looking annoyed. There are scorch marks on the walls and door.**

GABRIEL : [soliloquising] Ah, who could have thought, when I ran off to help my poor cousin, that I would find myself in as desperate a position as this? A convicted traitor, imprisoned under the Bastille, in the hands of a Tribunal as notorious for their cruelty and lack of mercy as for their treachery and backstabbing. My sole comfort is toying with fantasies of incinerating the entire government.

[*tink* *tink* *tink* noises from wall. A crack of light shows round a large stone]

GABRIEL : Wait, why should I toy with fantasies when I could be more constructive? I will be practical. I will work out how I will incinerate the entire government.

[*tink* *tink* *tink* from wall. Crack of light widens]

GABRIEL : Of course, my beloved husband will come to rescue me. Ah, when I remember his arms about me, his speed alongside me... [pauses] Still, it would be a great deal easier if I could extricate myself first. Men are so petty when it comes to reminding one about how one had to be rescued from captivity. I am certain that I would never do any such thing to him.

[*CRACK* from wall, as large stone comes loose, tumbling into room. Light comes through]

GABRIEL : Mon dieu! [turns to look across]
ELI : [voice from beyond wall] Hey, is that the new and exciting route to freedom?
GABRIEL : Ciel, I recognise that voice.
ELI : [from behind wall] Good gad, is that the voice of that divine actress, Mlle Gabriel?
GABRIEL : It is! And is that the voice of M. Eli, son of a noble line, who mysteriously disappeared five years ago?
ELI : [wriggling through hole in wall] Heavens, Gaby...
GABRIEL : [smouldering] Never call me that.
ELI : What, all the old days forgotten? All the times when I used to write the plays that you appeared in? All those long evenings when you and I and Janus used to plan to change the world?
GABRIEL : [drooping] All too long ago, my friend. But what in the name of Heaven are you doing here?
ELI : [looks embarassed] I spent a little too long investigating absinthe. I'd tried drinking it, smearing it on my body, putting it in coffee, inhaling it, setting fire to it... the Tribunal caught me just as I was experimenting with using it for painting crystal globes with my toes.
GABRIEL : No artistic taste.
ELI : [frowning] Them or me?
GABRIEL : [hastily] Them, of course. But why did you go and leave England like that? None of us knew where in the world you had gone.
ELI : I had this urge to go Bohemian. To throw off the shackles of accepted behaviour, cast aside rank and priviledge...
GABRIEL : [dryly] And now you're sitting in the Bastille.
ELI : Standing, dear, standing.
GABRIEL : But we must escape! I need to leave this place behind, find my husband, and incinerate a large proportion of the Tribunal!
ELI : [admiringly] I love a plan with no sense of proportion.
GABRIEL : [simmering] You have a problem with any of that?
ELI : None at all. I'd just been working out how to leave myself. I've been here a year now, and the possibilities of new painting views from my window are just about exhausted. Time to move on. Are you interested in the original escape plan, or do you want a new improved version?
GABRIEL : Just one that involves the both of us, if you please.
ELI : How about this one? We crawl back into my cell and get out through the door there.
GABRIEL : [blinks] But aren't you locked in?
ELI : Well, yes, I let them think so, but how could I get on with my painting if I was locked in? They worry so. I like to watch their happy smiles when they check the locks and hear them go click click click. It makes me feel all... virtuous.
GABRIEL : You are absolutely and positively sure that we can get out that way?
ELI : Trust me! You know me.
GABRIEL : That's the problem.
ELI : I beg your pardon?
GABRIEL : Lead on.

[ELI moves back to the hole in the wall, and crawls through. Gabriel follows]

---

**A grey stone corridor somewhere in the Bastille. KOBAL marches down it, leading a squad of guards.**

KOBAL : [still holding gerbil] Have the patrols doubled. Increase the guard on all entrances, and on the cells of the special prisoners. Hm, on consideration, I'll take a troop down there myself. Wouldn't want to miss the opportunity to let the Citoyenne know who'll be joining her shortly. Anticipation is the soul of despair, I always think.

[as he speaks, LAURENCE and JANUS, in hastily donned and ill-fitting uniforms, join the back of his squad]

KOBAL : [continuing down dark passage] Down, down, down, to the ground roots of the Revolution. Naturally we are building on a firm foundation of treachery and lies. How else does one ever do it? [to the gerbil] At least I'm getting an intelligent listener this time, little one. You're far more accommodating than Diz. Perhaps I should consider guillotining her and keeping you. [pretends to listen to squeak] No? Very well, you've proven yourself too self-sacrificing to live. Allow me to grant your request. Your head will tumble at dawn. It won't be much of a joke, but then again, nobody will know or care except me and Diz. Remind me to save your head for her. [pretends to listen again] Are you sure? Oh, very well, then. I'll save you and let her do it herself.

[JANUS and LAURENCE march along with the guards behind him. JANUS starts to whistle The British Grenadiers till LAURENCE kicks him on the ankle]

---

**ELI and GABRIEL creep together down a corridor which much resembles the last, only better lit. They come to a landing with several doors off it.**

GABRIEL : Eh bien, which door of these is the least used?
ELI : No, no, no, you've got the idea of this all wrong.
GABRIEL : I have?
ELI : Absolutely. You want to pick something totally unexpected so that nobody will guess what you are going to do.
GABRIEL : [cautiously] While I agree with you in principle, what precisely do you have in mind?
ELI : [walks over to clearly most ornate door] Expect the unexpected. [he opens the door, and a gush of steam rolls out]
GABRIEL : [sniffs] Avon Calling?
ELI : Trust me. They'll never look for us in here.

[ELI enters the steam-filled room, and GABRIEL follows less happily, closing the door behind her]

---

**KOBAL stalks along the corridor leading to GABRIEL's cell, followed by two guards, then the disguised JANUS and LAURENCE. He still carries the gerbil.**

KOBAL : Peace, perfect peace. Someone rattle on the lady's bars and see if she feels like disturbing it.

[JANUS steps forward, and neatly raps the guard in front of him on the back of the head. The guard collapses. LAURENCE taps his on the shoulder, then uppercuts him when he turns around. Both men catch their target guards, and ease them quietly to the sides of the passage]

KOBAL : Get a move on. I feel like exercising the priviledge of meritocracy, as defined by my being out here and her being in there.
LAURENCE : [draws sword, places it to the back of KOBAL's neck] Then perhaps, M. Kobal, you would care to exchange places with my cousin.
KOBAL : [goes dead still] Laurence? I must say, the uniform suits you far better than that skirt and shawl I saw you in last year.
JANUS : [slides the panel back and looks into Gabriel's cell] Darling? Are you in there? I'faith, this is no time to play coy!
KOBAL : And the good Pimpernel himself. How kind of you to pay us another visit.
JANUS : Merely dropping by, old chap. Time flies, and so do we. [finds the key to Gabriel's cell, and sets to unlocking and unbarring the door]
KOBAL : Surely you don't think you can escape? And let us leave aside the tiresome pretence that you'd use me as a hostage. We're both very well aware that the Tribunal would only make you suffer more for it - eventually.
LAURENCE : Well then, M. Kobal, there seems no reason that I should not offer you my gauge here and now. [lowers sword, removes glove] As a gentleman, for so you claim to be, you cannot well refuse.
KOBAL : [snorts] You really don't get it, do you? I can do whatever I like. My ability to choose life or death, ignore honour or dishonour, do whatever I choose without any self-imposed limitations - it puts me outside God, outside your petty notions of Heaven or Hell. Nobody constrains me and nobody judges me. [folds his arms] And I know perfectly well you won't strike down an unarmed man. So tell me, man of honour - which of us is the stronger now?
LAURENCE : [fumes silently, toying with his glove]
JANUS : [groans] Not again.
LAURENCE : [distracted] What?
JANUS : She's escaped. [cheering up] Ah well, now we simply have to scour the Bastille, find her, and flee with her from under the haughty noses of the Tribunal. A pleasant task for a summer's day!
KOBAL : It's autumn.
JANUS : And here we see the lack of spontaneity in your soul, my friend. A greater man would have cried, "Then let us make it summer!" You merely hang your head and try to find a cynical barb to suit the season.
KOBAL : Are you quite finished?
JANUS : Not at all. But, oddzooks, I fear I must teach you how to enjoy life at some later date. Laurence, if you please? [he swings the cell door open]
LAURENCE : With pleasure. [twists KOBAL's arm up behind him in a half-nelson, and shoves him into the cell]
JANUS : Excellent. [picks gerbil from Kobal's grasp as he passes him, closes and locks cell door]
KOBAL : This is not only a ridiculous outrage, it lacks any spark of originality. I thought better of you, M. Janus.
JANUS : My dear old fellow, I couldn't think of a better end for you than inside a hackneyed, out-of-date, second-hand idea. Think about it. [slides panel on door shut]
LAURENCE : But where now?
JANUS : Follow our inspiration, our common sense, and the path to the greatest danger. I know my dear wife.

[JANUS and LAURENCE head off down the corridor]

---

**The landing on which GABRIEL and Eli were last seen. BAAL and ASMODEUS enter. BAAL has a towel draped over one arm.**

ASMODEUS : Will you need to do any more work on her, do you think?
BAAL : Well, we've set the basic instructions. We only need to arrange things for the tragic death of our colleague in the prime of his life, and for the state funeral. Would you care to make a speech?
ASMODEUS : (snorts) Certainly not.
BAAL : Good, you wouldn't have done justice to it.
ASMODEUS : And you will?
BAAL : [setting hand on handle of ornate door] I go to seek inspiration. Mens sana in corpore sano.

[BAAL opens door and goes inside, as steam comes rushing out. ASMODEUS heads back down the corridor]

---

**A steam-filled room. GABRIEL and ELI crouch in the corner, clearly having been trying to feel their way along the wall. Someone (BAAL, naturally) is whistling and splashing in a bath.**

GABRIEL : [whispering] I knew this was a bad idea.
ELI : [whispering] Then why did you come in here with me?
GABRIEL : [whispering] Why break the habits of a lifetime, mon ami?
BAAL : [splooshing of water, then a pause] Attendant? Where is my soap?
ELI : [hastily hunts through his pockets] Just finding it, M. Baal!
BAAL : And find my sailing fleet, too! I feel like practicing naval maneuvers.
ELI : [produces from a pocket a bar of soap] Oui, M. Baal!
GABRIEL : [feels her way along wall, till she comes to copper piping that clearly leads towards the bathtub. Grins at it disturbingly]

[a knock on the door]

BAAL : Come in.

[the sound of the door opening, and footsteps through the steam]

JANUS : [voice only] M. Baal? Report from M. Kobal. He's got the Pimpernel in custody downstairs.

[GABRIEL puts her hands against the copper pipes, which slowly begin to smoke]

BAAL : Excellent! Did he collect any of the fellow's accomplices?
JANUS : He's sent up a witness with a personal report, sir.
BAAL : Where is this witness?

[a splash]

BAAL : [very slowly] There is a gerbil in my bathtub. [a pause] Have it arrested for mutiny, and turn yourself in at the same time.

[the pipes by GABRIEL begin to billow yet more steam]

LAURENCE : [voice only] I can no longer tolerate this! Rise from your concealing waters and fight like a man, M. Baal!
BAAL : Really, Laurence, if that's you, can't a man have a bath in peace? I insist on my soap first. Would you care to wait outside?

[more steam billows, and a tone begins to sound like a rising whistle]

---

**ASMODEUS and KOBAL lead a squad of guards along the corridor to the landing.**

ASMODEUS : I will inform M. Baal. [sets hand to doorknob]

[rising noise of steam whistle]

[door explodes outwards in a great gush of steam and boiling water. ELI goes surfing down corridor on upturned bathtub, to accompaniment of Carmina Burana on soundtrack. ASMODEUS, KOBAL, and guards are carried away by the gush of water. GABRIEL, LAURENCE, and JANUS stroll out together]

JANUS : Now just a brief stroll down the coast, m'dears, and we can be off to merry old England again.
LAURENCE : [brooding] I still regret the gerbil.
JANUS : It did a far, far better thing than it had ever done before. It went to a far, far better place than it had ever known.
GABRIEL : I missed precisely what happened to M. Baal in all that steam...
JANUS : Closer to godliness than ever before, my love, and lobster-red. Was that Eli?
GABRIEL : It was indeed.
JANUS : Never let it be said that I couldn't catch up with him.

[the three disappear down the corridor together]

---

ACT FOUR

**The deck of a sailing ship, cutting across the Channel. JANUS and GABRIEL are in the forefront, with MICHAEL behind speaking to one of the sailors, and ELI teaching LAURENCE some sort of card game.**

GABRIEL : Will we be in time, my love?
JANUS : [regards the horizon] One can only hope so. It's a good thing we were on the alert for French patrols; there were a half dozen of them sneaking around near where the good captain had his ship.
GABRIEL : [voice icy] I still fail to see why you chose that young woman in particular to impersonate me.
JANUS : [airily] Well, someone would have had to coach whoever we picked anyhow, and Jean had already taken the young hellion under his wing. Not that anybody could ever replace you in my eyes, love...
LAURENCE : [in the background] And why is this game called "strip" poker?

---

**A small cabin, walls and ceiling and floor all of iron, leaking slightly at the seams and creaking occasionally. KOBAL is cramped at a desk, turning a quill between his fingers. VAPULA enters, in naval outfit, face seamed by scars and burns.**

KOBAL : [looking up] Ah, M. Vapula. I believe that I have you to thank for this remarkably ... efficient ... journey.
VAPULA : Efficient? Never use that word. My discoveries are ground-breaking, staggering, astonishing, but I assure you that they are not such a prosaic thing as efficient.
KOBAL : [muttering] Nor such prosaic things as clean, dry, and quiet, either.
VAPULA : You appear to be muttering. [hopefully] Do you have a throat infection? Do you require the latest in medical technology?
KOBAL : [hastily] Only on alternate Sundays.
VAPULA : I thought we had rid France of Sundays.
KOBAL : Just as we will also rid France of disease - or rid France of the diseased, whichever you manage first. Ah, the healthy smell of mass experimental graves.
VAPULA : [nods seriously] I have a hundred per cent non-recurrence rate.
KOBAL : Leaving aside the fascinating topic of your good works for a moment, how soon will it be till we arrive in England?
VAPULA : An average of two hours, with standard deviation of three point five hours on either side. We'll get halfway up the Thames before we raise periscope, and see if we can put you ashore near to where this ball is.
KOBAL : Excellent.
VAPULA : Might I ask what you're writing?
KOBAL : Just a little speech of denounciation or two. Tell me, which do you prefer? "Base fraud and impersonation?" Or, "Unspeakable offence against the people of France by presenting this mockery of an Ambassador?"
VAPULA : Mockery?
KOBAL : When I expose their new Ambassador as a common stable-slut from a back-country inn of France, I think "mockery" will be rather a good term for the entire affair, don't you?

[screams and crunching, creaking noises]

KOBAL : [blinks]
VAPULA : Ah, the giant squids again. Just a moment, I want to try the new electricity field defences. I'll be right back! [exits, rubbing hands together]
KOBAL : [looking around] It's a strange and dangerous place, but it's my last, best hope for revenge. Wrapped in fifteen tons of armour plating, all alone in the...

[more screams, crunching, and the sounds of large electrical discharges]

KOBAL : [wincing] Wishing for a bit of solitude to perfect my delivery. Hm. To spit, or not to spit, that is the question...

---

**A back room somewhere in an expensive house. ANDREA is in a red dress, hair styled to cover a lot of her face. DAVID is looking out of the window. JEAN is going through a checklist.**

JEAN : And remember, always work inwards from the outside with cutlery.
ANDREA : [evidently paying no attention] Is there any sign of them?
DAVID : [after a long moment to check] No.
ANDREA : [throws up her hands] I can't do it. I can't! Everyone will know who I am. It's impossible! They'll recognise me! I'll be hung, drawn, and quartered!
DAVID : Not these days.
ANDREA : I bet it's worse nowadays.
JEAN : [calmingly] It is inefficient to panic now. You are wasting valuable energy and increasing tension.
ANDREA : Tension? Don't talk to me about tension. Do you realise how long it's been since...
JEAN : [cutting across hastily] This is not the time for that sort of thing. The good sea-captain sailed to bring the others back. You will have him in your arms as soon as they arrive, more or less.
ANDREA : More or less?
JEAN : As soon as it can be reasonably arranged.

[a rap on the door]

ANDREA : [smoothing her dress] If this goes wrong, I'm going to swear that I never met either of you in my life, and that I was kidnapped by white slavers who drugged me and duped me into this masquerade, and that I just want to go home to my dear old white-haired grandmother in the country.
JEAN : Excellent.
DAVID : [snorts]
JEAN : [aside, to David] You want her in hysterical tears again?
DAVID : [aside, to Jean] It's still an appalling lack of loyalty.
JEAN : [aside, to David] She's going out there. How much do you want?
DAVID : [aside, to Jean] Everything. No compromises.
ANDREA : [puts her hair in order, walks to the door, then turns back] Are you two coming?

[JEAN and DAVID exchange looks, then move to join her]

---

**A dank riverbank. KOBAL climbs out of a small boat. His shoes and lower stockings are soaked.**

---

**London Port, on a windy night. JANUS assists GABRIEL down into a small boat that is about to bear them to shore, and ELI and LAURENCE on the deck of the ship above wait to descend the rope ladder. MICHAEL is visible in silhouette at the wheel.**

---

**Large ballroom scene (on which the producers have clearly blown most of their budget). Men and women in gorgeous period costumes move in a slow dance, and a chamber orchestra plays to one side. DOMINIC and YVES are visible in the crowd, as DAVID, JEAN, and ANDREA enter. YVES makes his way across.**

YVES : My dear Gabriel... how you have changed.
ANDREA : Do say that I look younger, sir, or I'll feel really hurt.
YVES : [courtly, offers his arm] You look absolutely charming, my dear. Might I have the first dance?
ANDREA : [takes it, dimpling]

[the two move off onto the dance floor]

DAVID : [muttering] It's a miracle.
JEAN : [relaxing] The fruit of exhaustive training - and a great deal of bromide in her tea.
DAVID : How much?
JEAN : Let us merely say that I now have a new set of maximum tolerance figures.

DOMINIC : [approaching the two] The lady Gabriel appears to have changed slightly since last I saw her.
JEAN : It's astonishing what they can do with corsets these days.
DOMINIC : I never wear ... corsets.
JEAN : How goes business?
DOMINIC : Busy as ever. I am filled with vigour and enthusiasm at the thought of bringing judgement to the guilty of England.
DAVID : Commendable.

[behind them, KOBAL enters through the main door, shoes and stockings still wet. He scans the floor, looking for ANDREA]

DOMINIC : Only my duty.
JEAN : I believe that Miss Novalis was talking about dancing with you later.
DOMINIC : That is not my duty.

[on the dance floor, ANDREA finishes the dance with YVES, and looks around her. Her eyes go wide as she catches sight of KOBAL. She mutters frantically to Yves, then makes her way toward Kobal]

KOBAL : [lowers his voice as she approaches] My dear Citoyenne Gabriel... or should I say, Citoyenne Andrea?
ANDREA : [chews her lower lip] Oh, M. Kobal, have you come to save me?
KOBAL : [blinks, evidently surprised] Save you?
ANDREA : [big-eyed] Oh, yes! I've been kidnapped and brainwashed, and it's so good to see a friendly face at last!
KOBAL : [aside] Evidently still brainwashed. [to ANDREA] Naturally I was sent to help you. Our master hasn't forgotten you... no, no, don't go all gooey-eyed, it isn't the least bit warranted and you don't want to know why not, trust me.
ANDREA : But how could I not, M. Kobal? When I remember his voice, his hands on my shoulders...
KOBAL : Are we thinking of the same person?
ANDREA : [shuffles a foot] Well, admittedly he was telling me never to touch him again at the time.
KOBAL : Good. We are.
ANDREA : [pouts, brings her arms together to maximise her cleavage] But couldn't we talk in private a moment?
KOBAL : You know, in that outfit you do bear an extraordinary resemblance to Gabriel.
ANDREA : That's the idea, M. Kobal.
KOBAL : Just as long as you understand I'm to expose you in five minutes for an underhanded spy and an insult to the French government. I'm sure it'll be a delightful experience for the both of us, and the Tribunal will be delighted to put your talents to better use once we return home. [aside] In however many pieces the English send you back.
ANDREA : Of course! There's a little alcove behind the curtains.
KOBAL : Did you somehow get trained to spot sites like that?
ANDREA : [offended] It's a perfectly natural talent.

[ANDREA leads KOBAL towards said alcove. In the background, YVES mutters rapidly to JEAN and DAVID. At that point, JANUS is seen at the doorway, beckoning frantically towards the three men, who come across to join him]

JANUS : We're back, my friends, with Gabriel!
DAVID : Unfortunately, our Gabriel is currently busy.
JANUS : Doing what?
JEAN : Lying back, closing her eyes, and thinking of England.
JANUS : But the girl's French, deuce take it!
JEAN : And helpfully distracting M. Kobal, at the moment.
DAVID : Doing what she does best.
JANUS : Ecod! How could that fellow have reached here before us?

---

**Somewhere mid-Channel, there is a violent explosion from deep beneath the sea. A single lifebelt, marked SS NAUTILUS, floats to the surface.**

---

**The ballroom. KOBAL, just a touch dishevelled, emerges from behind the curtain, a bare female arm reaching out in an attempt to pull him back.**

JANUS : [steps quickly behind David] If somebody could just distract him a moment...
YVES : Leave it to me.

[YVES walks towards KOBAL, who turns to face him. Behind, JANUS stealthily makes his way to the alcove, extracts ANDREA (who is still trying to fasten her dress) and hustles her out of the room]

KOBAL : Have you come to try and stop me fulfilling my duty, then, sir? I recognise a friend of M. Janus.
YVES : [mildly] Necessity is the thief of elegance. Your shoes are wet.
KOBAL : [shifts position] Your aristocracy seems to spend too much time polishing epigrams and too little actually thinking, m'sieur. What is that supposed to mean?
YVES : That you have been too hasty running after what you think your purpose is, and too slow to change your footwear? [sniffs] Good lord, that must be Thames water. It stinks.
KOBAL : I will not be held responsible for the cleanliness of your rivers. In France they are far purer.
YVES : Pure blood, I am assured.
KOBAL : [smirking] Blue blood, even.

[behind them, GABRIEL enters the ballroom, hair hastily piled into the style that ANDREA was wearing, in ANDREA's red dress]

YVES : How dreadfully that must stain the shoes and socks.
KOBAL : [snorts, turns away, and stalks towards GABRIEL] So, Citoyenne. Are you ready for our grand denoument?
GABRIEL : [face averted] But of course, M. Kobal. Would you care to stage it in front of the Lord Chief Justice? He's got such a temper, and I'm sure he'd be delighted to tell the whole of England about it.
KOBAL : I'm astonished. You can actually get your brain out of the gutter on occasion. Or did your wiles fail on him?
GABRIEL : [laughs prettily] Oh, he really doesn't seem to like the French. Positively prejudiced against them.
KOBAL : Let's give him some more reason, then. Come along, come along, we don't have time for you to sample any more English culture.

[the two approach DOMINIC]

DOMINIC : [stares rigidly] Good evening. Before you ask, I do not dance.
KOBAL : Really? Well, I'm sure that by the end of this evening someone else will be dancing on air somewhere. I have a dreadful accusation to make, and I wouldn't want to make it to anybody but you.
DOMINIC : [leaning forward] Accusations are my business. Speak on.
KOBAL : Unfortunately, I have to allege that this lady is a complete fraud. [indicates GABRIEL] She is nothing more than a common serving-wench from an inn on the French coast. To have her presented instead of our presumed Ambassador - a lady for whom I have nothing except the greatest of respect, and whom I will cheerfully avoid if she comes anywhere near me - is an insult to France. Monsieur, it is my sad duty to announce that we are at -
GABRIEL : [interrupting, sweeps her hair off her face] And I must allege that this "gentleman" is nothing more than a French spy, who has attempted to kidnap me, and to bring the good name of France into disrepute. [gives KOBAL a searing glare] As surely the Tribunal cannot have wished to provoke war by kidnapping me, it must clearly have been all your own doing. Yes or no?
DOMINIC : [blinks slowly]
KOBAL : Is there a "maybe" option?
GABRIEL : I disdain such modern frivolities. So, m'sieur, are the French government deliberately provoking war?
KOBAL : [to DOMINIC] I stand on the fifth amendment.
DOMINIC : However, you stand on English soil. Perhaps you would care to consider your statement. You will be provided with a secure place in which to do so.

[JANUS enters, leading two large Cherub guards, followed behind by LAURENCE, ELI, MICHAEL and ANDREA (who is hanging onto MICHAEL limpet-like)]

KOBAL : [resigned] At least we aren't pretending that such a thing as justice will occur. I'll get exchanged back to France for some aristo, because that's how it works. [to GABRIEL] You're wasting your time, you know, Citoyenne, believing in some kind of abstract passion for punishment or inspiration or anything like that. The world is how it is, and all that one can do is laugh at it, and all one can ever laugh at is other people. Remember that, and you might actually find some kind of peace on that future day when you see your husband's dead face, when you are old and grey yourself, when everything you have ever loved comes to nothing and shatters - remember that it was worthless in any case.
GABRIEL : [quietly] The only response to your words, M. Kobal, is that you have just proven that you have no understanding of what love is, and that as long as you speak in that way then you never will.

[KOBAL shrugs, and is led off by the two guards, supervised by DOMINIC. JANUS embraces GABRIEL]

JANUS : M'dear, you were wonderful.
GABRIEL : Thank you, love. I'm just glad that we were able to get back here in time. My hero, coming to rescue me...
MICHAEL : [to ANDREA] Didn't get up to anything too awful while I was away, my girl?
ANDREA : [giggles, and whispers in his ear]
MICHAEL : [blinks] Interesting training methods.
JEAN : [folding his arms] It was optimal.
LAURENCE : [to ELI] So, what is this thing that you call a "cocktail"?

---

**A turret room in the Bastille in France. ASMODEUS stands by the window, KRONOS takes notes on a scroll, a still-somewhat-rosy-looking BAAL lounges in cleanliness on a chair, and a hooded woman stands in the corner.**

ASMODEUS : [clearly finishing a report] We will, of course, exchange M. Kobal for a prisoner of our own. At some future date. Eventually.
KRONOS : [making a note] And he is imprisoned with his Lilim. It is Fate.
BAAL : Not too bad a set of outcomes, all in all. PDE.
ASMODEUS : Perhaps our esteemed colleague would care to define his grounds for success? It would appear to my unenlightened eyes that we have little to show for this business. It would also help if he defined his acronyms.
BAAL : Pretty Damned Efficient, my friend. I took care to implant certain instructions in Citoyenne Gabriel before she unfortunately got herself loose, and she will serve as a convenient agent when she is sent the key phrase.
ASMODEUS : Which is?
BAAL : [coughs] Mind like a sieve. I'm sure I've got it written down somewhere. Also, we have blackmail evidence on the Lord Chief Justice of England.
ASMODEUS : [blinks] We do? For what?

[the cloaked woman steps forward, and lowers her hood. There is a mask across half her face, which is clearly scarred, and her movements are slow and twisted, but she is quite recognisable as LILITH]

LILITH : For consorting with a foreign spy, and for helping her escape.
ASMODEUS : [slowly] Citoyenne.
LILITH : M. Asmodee. I did not wish to disturb you in your capture of the Citoyenne Gabriel, so I came instead to M. Baal.
BAAL : Indeed. I believe, my friends of the Committee, that we shall yet have our war, and our victory...

---

In Nomine