Lord Byron and the Morality Clause - Andrew Crofts

“Byron, is that you?” John Murray shook the receiver in the hope of clearing the line. “These international lines are bloody terrible …”

“Murray,” Byron shouted back down the line, “what do you want? Things are pretty hectic here.”

“How’s the holiday going?”

“Oh, you know what the foreigners are like. Lots of good swimming though. Just planning a trip to attack some Turks who are holed up in this castle. What can I do for you? Books selling alright?”

“Yes, sales are good."

"Public still think I'm a genius?"

"Up to a point ... but we have a bit of a problem, old man.”

“Problem?”

“We’re going to have to let you go, I’m afraid, pulp what we’ve got left of your scribblings.”

“What are you talking about, man?”

“It’s the media you see. They’re kicking up a bit of a fuss about your private life, the way you treat people … it’s all very silly, I know.”

“What do you mean, the way I treat people? You’re not making sense, man.”

“Well it’s the way you keep buggering every foreigner you come across …”

“What are you blathering about?”

"And there is this silly business with your sister …”

“Oh for goodness sake, Murray, just grow a pair! Tell the media to take a running jump.”

“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid, old chap. I’ve had the legal people onto me as well ...”

“Lawyers? You don’t want to listen to those dreadful little people.”

“It seems that there was a morality clause in that contract you signed with us ...”

“Morality? Contracts? Don’t be ridiculous, man; I’m a member of the House of Lords.”

“I know, I know. But apparently that still doesn’t mean you can go round buggering foreigners and impregnating members of the family.”

“But I need the money old boy, staging revolutions is bloody expensive.”

“Quite, quite. Have you considered self publishing?”