Miss Marie Lloyd: Queen of the Music Hall

Ladies and gentlemen,

the Queen of the Music Halls, Miss Marie Lloyd!

ls everybody hBPPW

You bet your life we are!

Stand up straight. Ad sad.

Oh, dear child.

- How much? - Two shillings.

Let's go buy some sweets, Tilly.

No, Freddie. I've got a better idea.

Go on, you've got five minutes.

That's Little Titch, for obvious reasons.

You hereto audition?

Next!

That's you, isn't it?

Yeah, I suppose.

This your first time?

Me?

You've never been on stage before, have you?

Course I have.

- Bloody hell! - Name?

Beg pardon?

Name?

Name! Not that difficutt, is it?

No, I just happen to have not quite heard.

Miss Bella Delamare.

Illuminate my day with the lightness of your voice, little miss songbird.

Beg pardon?

Sing. Sing! Sing!

rThemheiacanfiyousee?

Thank you!

- Thank you for what? - Thank you for coming.

Good day. Next!

Well?

Well, come on, Till. Tell me.

- How did you get on? - They loved me.

Well, who wouldn't, eh?

I just weren't what they were looking for.

Look, they're so used to the chaff that...

- that when the wheat turns up... - Maybe I'm not as good as you think I am.

I should slick to curiing feathers.

Oi!

You never give up.

As your best pal, I'm telling you.

You give up, you've failed.

Two shillings and sixpence?

- Take 'rt or leave it. - I'd have to leave it, Mr Belafonte.

How dare you just walk out and leave me shortof a gin?

Two and six is more than enough for you to be standing on a stage

- and hoofing abouta bit! - Goon!

Excuse me!

Mr Belafonte!

What?

I've seen the Dolly Sisters' ad. I know what they do.

So?

I beg your pardon. Miss Bella Delamare at your service.

I'm a dancer.

Now, it's not normally in my nature to talk disrespectful of my fellow artistes...

What are you going on about?

I'll bloody do 'rt for 2% bob!

You've just found yourself your missing Dolly Sister!

0oh!

- You little cow! - What did I do?

You stole the limelight when you're part of the chorus. It's not on.

When you're pan of the chorus, you play your pan just like everyone else.

Well, I don't want to be like everyone else!

- Didn't let you down, did I, sir? - What?

Er...no, 'rt was fine.

You were brilliant

- Did you hear them all laughing? - All eyes were on you.

Who wants to play the bridesmaid when you can play the bride?

- You were certainly the belle of the ball. - Ignore him.

I'm Percy Courtney.

Are you, indeed?

And I just wondered if the belle of the ball would care for a little refreshment after such exertions?

Have you been dancing on the halls for long, Miss Delamare?

No, Mr Courtney. I'm a novice.

I'd like to make a career out of it, but it's not easy.

You need to know the right people.

Like you, I suppose?

And what do you do, Mr Courtney?

My profession?

Well, you're no drayman, are you, by the looks of those hands.

I invest on the market.

What, fruit and veg?

Stocks and shares.

You think I'm the type of gill that'll fall for a single rose?

She's got something.

Really'?

Damned if I can see it.

Thank you.

Waiter!

What do you think to the place?

It's lovely here, innit?

It is tonight Here...

with you.

Flatterer.

She's got wit.

A sparkle.

Give her five minutes on Monday night.

I'm glad you agreed to see me again, Miss Delamare.

I hope to see you a lot more often.

- No, you wont - Oh.

- But you can see Miss Tilly Wood, if you like. - Tilly who?

Bella Delamare's my stage name. I made 'rt up.

Nice, though, don'! you think?

It's sophisticated.

You should call yourself something more...

- ..memorable. - Like what?

- Something simple. - Charmed, I'm sure.

Well, I ain't having Tilly Wood.

- Why not? - She's far too common, isn't she?

What name would you suggest?

What about...

...Marie?

What about Mar-ee?

Mane.

Yeah.

Marie what?

More!

No-one's ever given me a rose before, Freddie.

STAGE MANAGER Two-minute call, everyone.

So...it's Marie Lloyd now, is it?

Yep, and don'! she sing nice?

I'll give you ten shillings a performance and a regular spot. Monday night.

I think you've missed the boat. I'm already booked on a Monday.

- At the Royalty in Bethnal Green. - Shawcross?

- How much is he paying you? - Twelve shillings and sixpenoe.

I'll give you thirteen.

I don'! think she can let Mr Shawcros down.

He's a very important man.

Fifteen shillings and sixpenoe.

Done.

Magnificent!

Clever gin. You shouldn'! be allowed.

Them she is

Miss Man's Lloyd of London. A common thief!

- Who are you? - That song.

- It's mine. - Which song?

The only song in your act worth singing. The Boy In The Gallery.

- I own the rights. - Oh...l had no idea.

I bought the words and music from Hoxlon Market.

You can't just go and sing somebody else's material.

What did you pay for it? Two, three pounds?

For a song like that? You need to keep up with the times, young man.

That's a five-pound song.

Thank you. I am slightly mollified.

Never say Miss Nelly Powers, songbird with a light comic patter,

doesn't want to help those lower down the bill than hersetf.

I'm sure.

That's your lot.

We'll take all six

That'll be £18, Sir.

Thank you.