In Spite of Lady Lillette

A players history in five acts

Featuring

Maid FairPrince FlorizelLady LilletteDuke Cerith

Queen ScerileneKing Of Old

Mildred WitchEdgar Demon& Fine Chorus

Presented by Playwright Zeno Marl

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Act I

Act I Scene 1

Chorus: I will lead your sight my gentlefolk,If you will honour me, to visions in the mindThat tell of tales from another fresher age.Before, see you the bright sun dawn uponA near forgotten time, when the forested earthWas close as cragged and green as when born.See beauty o’er awes the senses as gentle golden lightCreeps through the hills and among the silver trees.We follow until we reach the kingdom andThe castle from whence this strange tale unfolds.Hush quick, enter this castle and to the fairPrince’s chamber, silently for young PrinceFlorizel sleepeth, even as the dawn arises.

[Prince Florizel sleeps in his bed. The door opens and in creeps Maid Fair. She pauses andlooks with a smile.]

Maid: Ah fair Florizel sleeps, as pretty as a babe.

[Maid Fair turns around, goes back to the door, and slams it striding across the room to drawthe curtains.]

Maid: Good morning Your Highness, the weathers fineAnd there you are lazing about in bed.Florizel I beg you leave me be another hour.Remove the day, I like it not, it offends.Maid Tut-tut, drinking and carousing or whateverIt is you get up to with that viperish cousinOf yours until all hours, or so I expect.Florizel: Do you dishonour the Duke you call a viper?Maid He propositioned me the worm, so low a price.Florizel: By the Lord, may I strike him down to hellIf he did touch your honour so fair a maid.Maid: It is true already.Florizel What is true?Maid: I am so fair a maid.Florizel: So true … I guessMaid: What guess? More is true however.

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One little knee and mighty Duke CerithCrawled worm-like in his own little hell,Into his room, pronouncing such words asWould make Satan himself blush red and faint.Florizel: To so offend a maiden’s ear is a crime.Maid: Also repaid, I don’t often decideTo kick a man when he is down so far;But rarely does a man doubled so lowLeave his rear so high.Florizel: A noble action, the modern damsel isNow more of interest than of old,Being told to butt injustice,Or some such beneficial stuff.Maid: Being a man your aim is to dishonourMe with caddish flattery, ungentleman.Florizel: You tease so cruelly maid for I can haveYou not, although there is little else I desire;So bound am I that must be King with duty,Which so forbades a love of such a laughingBeauty e’en though you make my heart grow weakBut could strengthen it a thousand times.Maid: You speak quite well for some dull braggartAnd a girl like me’s not easily pleased.But enough I pray, I have to work today,Is your chamber pot polluted highness?Florizel: I am no braggart, and you are cruel to me.Maid: Oh yes, I heard you tell you step-sisterYour horse could always jump an eight-foot gate.Florizel: Well, you are unjust, I said almostAnd it was only that Lillette lives inThe darkest corners of the castle, awayAnd alone from nature’s light. I hopedThat she would ride with me and drive the pallorFrom her cheeks, she eats little and speaks less.Maid: Concerned for all things, hey?Florizel: She is my kin.Maid: Your chamber potFlorizel: is unspoiled, I likeIt not that you must do so low a task.Maid: When led by the bowels, the bowels can the bowls control.I’m sorry, I have offended.Florizel: Not much – please wait,Any tidings news or gossip, how thrives the world?Maid: Nothing exciting, Cathy the cook is gettingMarried, rumour says she’s pregnant, your royal farrier.

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Florizel: He’s a good honest young man.Maid: Circumstances don’t really agree.The Duke is up to something, likeBlack ice he treacherously can be foundLurking alone in dark corners at odd hours.Florizel: You must have solved the ducal problem now.Maid: Let me explain to you: ‘Oft have I spiedThe Duke a-wondering the castle alone.’Florizel: A prince must speak indeed in princely talk.Maid: Time waits for no women. Good morning toYour Highness. The sun rises and I am late.Florizel: It is indeed a pleasure [exit maid] to be woken…Her tongue is sharp, her manners rude, yet sheLightens my day for she’s a goodly soul.

Act I Scene 2

Chorus: My guests, in mind arise and please you followFrom this morning scene to a dungeonSome floors below from where the sun is neverSeen. The dark is cold, and still, and quiet,For we are far beyond the reach of noiseFrom any above and yet, I hear footsteps.Hush, for who enters this deserted place?It is the Queen and Duke approaching quick.

[Enter Duke Cerith and Queen Scerilene]

Cerith: Ah my Queen Scerilene, so fair a faceSo fair a name, let me embrace your body.For I want you and my manhood’s hardBegging a sensual communion.Queen: Wait,For we are here, this old forgotten chamberCan be our lair my wicked one.Cerith: My love.Queen: Undo my dress and lift my skirts, my love fulfilMe with your darkest desires.Cerith: Such fine Breasts

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[Enter Lady Lillette, with stealth]

Lillette: What does my new crowned mother want with thatYoung Duke, no goodness lurks in such a stealthyEntry to this place. I now can testMy suspicions, for I swear she is crookedAnd schemes unloving plans. I’ll creepUpon them unsuspect, for knowledge is power,No longer will I be left forgotten here.The weakness of the strong is the strength of the weak.Cerith: You are mother and wife to me auntie.Queen: Be weaned my wantonness, and push your fleshBetween my moistening flesh as I desire.Lillette: By Satan’s forked tongue they copulate,Lustfully, incestuously, andAdulterously. Beasts behave with greaterShame, and less disgusting orgious noise.The old succuba corrupts the weakYoung Duke in this unholy damning act.How can she be a part of God’s creation,My mother such an evil bestial thing.If she be of the other place, what thenAm I, product of an evil spawning womb?My weak step-cousin corrupted by her vileCaresses, my goodly new father blindedAs to her evil acts by fluttered lashesAnd poisoned smiles. This snake is more toxicThan a bite of Eden’s all knowing apple.She shamelessly commits so fouler deedsAs are incomprehensible to innocents.Today I see her loveless colours true.I thought ‘twas strange my father’s death, so young,And when the King desired a wife, he mournedThe passing of the first, not so my mother.I was too young, but now I see her thoughtsWere of a royal power. My true fatherAn obstacle removed efficiently.I will have justice against this fiend,I can review her deeds. She hasBewitched the world and is its Queen.Justice who cares of justice, vengeance,For my bitter life and father’sMust be seen, I swear upon it.So I must act, but what am I,

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I am just my mother’s daughter.Yes, I am my mother’s daughterI am Lillette granddaughter ofDemonic spawn. I cannot blessBut I hold a darker powerFor I can curse upon my Father’sMurdered soul, my hate andVirgin blood flowing inMy veins, all this I have to offerThe demons and the devils of the pit.I call upon you fates and powers allThe good for justice, evil as I command.The pay is hate and blood, oh twistedMercenary beasts. The orders cruelDestruction, crush my motherAnd her incestuous loverIn cruel coils of madness and the hellish.

[Lady Lillette strikes the wall with her fist]

And here as blood, my virgin blood dripsUpon the rocks the deal is struck mother.

Cerith: Me thinks I heard a cry.Queen: It isMy body screaming for your lustFill me or I will rake you for your blood.

Act I Scene 3

Chorus: Now gentles all, let us retire awhileBelow the dungeons to a cavernAlit with shadows from satanic fires.Flinch not, even a this side gate of hellThey see us not. We can observe the roleOf demon lord and witch in this most foulAnd fearful business. Fear good people, fear,Evil is afoot and powerfulWith greed.

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Witch: My lordship, why do we wait?Demon: The deal above is struck and nowI need your tendered services Witch. The price a kingdomFor you to rule, through one whose will’s subservient.You may rule through her mortal partsThe soul is ours to take; but first, the dealMust be honoured to be good. Her order,Destroy in cruel coils of madness and the hellishThe Queen Scerilene, Duke Cerith,And for us the unpolluted bloodOf King and Prince, beware impenetrable souls.Witch: My Lord I like it not.Demon: The price is high,The choice is not yours Witch. First takeA drop of black blood from this white lily.Witch: Death comes not before Lillette this timeBut on her sullen heels.Demon: Here is the planFirst fulfil the madness over Duke and Queen…

Act I Scene 4

Chorus: We must leave them plotting plans belowFor above the Duke and Queen have finishedFornication, and think of scheming dreamsTo plot together in post-coital co-operation.Here is young love mixed with old venom.

Cerith: My Queen, My Empress, What have I done?To worship at your beautiful templeIs such a treason ‘gainst the King my uncle.Queen: Fear not the King is old and tiresome, butI still must humour him.Cerith: Would you were my Queen.Queen: Would I were, would I were, butIt could not be within the natural course,Nor you the King my sweetest tasting thing.Cerith: I oft have dreams, my last was us togetherThroned in splendour, citizens and usAll joyous. Riches, love, and all goodnessRising over the kingdom, fate smiled.Queen: Do not so torture me with dreams, which youWill never try fulfilling. One day perhapsI’ll find a real man, who would kill to loveAnd have me. I expect too much from you,

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What you have risked is indeed enough.Cerith: Harsh words seldom so cut.Queen: I love you my lover.Cerith: If only I could satisfy the desiresOf my Queen, then I could be so happy.Queen: But you’ve satisfied one well my manWhat’s next upon your list my dream fulfiller.Cerith: What you desire my heart becomes my goal.Queen: I prophesy my love, you’ll have a fruitlessTask. When is a women satisfied.Cerith: The charlatan offers false hopes to foolsAnd calls them prophesises. I offer promises.Queen: Bravely spoken Hero. Oh Cruel the passionateFate of promises, strange words I wish were true.Cerith: Hush now, not so are noble promises.Queen: Kiss me now my love and whisper howYou will fulfil our dreams for me, with famedDeeds, my man, my Duke, my King;These acts that will awe the heavenly hostAnd appal all hellish things.Cerith: I swear your sovereignty over my soul,Swear me yours my love.Queen: What of my mightyDeeds, my squire.Cerith: These too I swear I’ll doFor you, please swear you these for me my Queen.Queen: A women’s oath is never held, the bestThat I can give’s worth more than empty promises:It is that I declare intention toRest at your side until a death does partOur paths, for now we are a vehicle,Together we will overcome our foes,First the dull good King and second the Prince.Cerith: I like this not. You talk too loosely ofMost fearful things with a flicker in your eyes.Queen: You are not a fawn hunted by a wolfBut a hunter starting at the blowingOf the wind. Your dreams are premonitionsThat you must unfold. For you would beA wiser, stronger King, and I could beYour perfect Queen. The fates have chosen usTo Save the Kingdom, from Prince Florizel’sDim incompetence. Too long has this houseBeen ruling with a brainless benevolence.This empty dungeon shows too many rogues

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Are free. The castle’s spirit calls usTo be the land’s salvation, for we must rule.Cerith: Perhaps you are o’er hasty love in suchDecisive matters. Death is cruel, a kindred’sDeath double cruel. The means is soSimple, the matter is not, this is unholy.Queen: And what means you unholy, this is youUnbrave. Why do you tantalise me with‘So simpler means’, how shall the act be done?Cerith: But my Queen you know not what you say.‘Tis the dream of every man to sitUpon a throne adored and adornedIn splendour’s robes. We all are proud believersIn our noble fate and calling, butPerhaps our earthly task is to resistTemptation, and confess our pride, our dutyIs to our King’s on earth and heaven whomWe both have both betrayed. TreacheryAnd treason are always cruelly repaid.Queen: I ask you now sirrah, does love for meControl your heart. Or am I your lustBucket to be lied to.Cerith: You abuse my love.Queen: You believe the lies of clergymen,From whence then does our love arise? Answer.Cerith: I know not where.Queen: ‘Tis either God’s own gift,Or else there is no God and love was takenFrom nature. And why would God have givenUs this love, but t'were it for usTo act upon. And if there is no GodWe know that love is ours to takeBy force, and yet almost, we dared not.To pause in fear would mean that we would fall.The choice, my love is yours, either you seeOur love taken from you by an old man’s fancy,And you’re ruled subservient to yourDull, lesser abled cousin, orYou take what is your due with fortitude.You must become the respected andMost honoured King. The land will be indebtedTo you, the fates will smile upon your crown.Honour and my love will fall entwinedAround the thread of your ennobled life.Cerith: You are correct, the way along this path

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Is strewn with blood. The traitors blood,Or the blood of divine authority.We can not fight the King and God, my Queen,But then we must retreat from our vice,Back unto a loveless lonely place.Queen: I spoke so plainly Duke, as clear as ICan see our love. I tried forswearing you,But my heart wept, and when next I saw youAll my oaths, suddenly were forgotten;Maybe you are harder hearted, butI think you too are ruled, do not betrayYour true master. Admit your love to me.Surrender to the revolution ofThe heart, follow the new power and neverRetreat from love. We can never return,Our present stasis is unstable, treasonUnder the law is death. This is a war.The loser’s die, forward to glory andSurvival. How shall we act, for act we must.Cerith: I cannot betray you, for I love you.We are trapped. How cruelly fate does playWith us. Tossing us hither and thither likeA cat playing with a mouse beforeIt kills. What can we do, the onlyAction is evil. We cannot kill,We must remain in secret.Queen: We will be found,And you will die. How often can a QueenSlide away. This is tantamountTo death, both love and life will be deprived.Cerith: Then indeed we must discreetly act.Many die each hour, two more shall rideAcross the Styx, and these two souls shall beThe King and Prince. In the cellars isPoison for the rats, you must administer itTo the King. And I, this afternoon,Will ride beside the Prince, during the hunt.He could well fall badly or be struckTragically by a stray arrow,And die is such a dismal accident.Queen: So be it, our embrace shall seal their fate.Cerith: No, let us go and do what we must do.[They begin to leave]Blood, fresh blood an ill omen of death.Queen: The death of royal blooded King and Prince

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I pray.Cerith: Jest not, ‘tis ill, our ventures cursed.Queen: Our course is set, or shall you further dither?There is no other way, so come let usDepart. We are not things which feast on bloodBut they will come.Cerith: I am afeared, let usAdvance, for I will do what must be done.Queen: Maybe it is an omen of success,For fouler things beg at the door, let usAway.

Act I Scene 5

Chorus: Ah above, poor souls, oblivious inThe calm. A warm sunshine washes the heart.Let us wonder a while lest we forgetThe good nature of man, the virtue ofHonest labour in preparation for the hunt.

[Courtyard: Maid Fair scrubs laundry. General background noise. Lady Lillette enters, ahandkerchief around her hand]

Maid: Good morning m’ladyLillette: Good mourning,Is what I hope to do. The sun is overBright. This means indeed a storm is due.Maid: Tut, may I suggest such pessimism is undue.Lillette: Such optimism as yours I’d call insensible.Maid: You seem a little troubled m’lady. Is it your hand,I notice it is delicately held.Lillette: Slightly grazed, though less trouble than noiseTo one seeking quiet.Maid: Quiet I shall be.

[Quiet with background noise, Enter Prince Florizel]

Florizel: So nice to work with water in the sunshine.Maid: I would prefer the life without the work,Your Highness.Florizel: Ah, excuse me, LilletteSo nice to see you out and about. TodayIs the day you keep your promise to me, that youWould ride along with the hunt and I have foundA beautiful horse for you to ride, a chestnut

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Mare, fine natured.Lillette: I promised nothing.Florizel: Scowl, scowl, you’ll enjoy it all, would I everLie to you?Lillette: Perhaps I do not wish to hunt.Florizel: I don’t suppose I could order you asThe prince.Lillette: NoFlorizel: I didn’t think so. PleaseJust for me, as it would make me so happy.Lillette: I will consider it and let you know.Florizel: Do not consider it, please just say yes.Lillette: You are incorrigible.Florizel: She says yes at last.We leave at two, I’ll put you on your horseMyself at five before the hour, jolly good.Lillette: I didn’t say yes.Florizel: You were about to though.Admit it you were just playing hard to please.Lillette: Won over by a charmless over-enthusiast.

[Lillette lights a black cigarillo]

Florizel: Beware or else I’ll have to tell you whatThose foul cigarette things do to your lungs.Lillette: I’ve always liked the colour black. AnywayYou’re hardly known for your sackcloth collection.Florizel: Very bad for your health, little Miss Charming.Lillette: I intend to die at a young ageBecause I do not want to become as foolishOr silly as you.Florizel: Excuse me, I descendFrom a line of mighty and respected kings.Lillette Every twenty-three generations you getA Foozle the Farcical.Florizel: What’s your excuse then.

[Enter Duke Cerith]

Cerith: Ah, your highness.Florizel: God, some decorumAnd honour in my court.Maid: Cough cough.Florizel: Ah well, how can I help my amorous cousin.Cerith: What do you mean?

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Florizel: Our loving family.

[Prince Florizel winks at Maid Fair]

Lillette: I’d ask him to give us a demonstrationOf painful tortuous suicide involvingLots of blood.Florizel: And there I was thinkingYou had no charm.Lillette: Do not worry thinkingWas never your strength.Florizel: Tut, jealousy.What’s the problem.Cerith: What? There is no problemI just wanted to know what weapons we use?Florizel: Oh the usual bows for venison.Lillette: Will there be lots of blood and guts and gore.Florizel: Oh no, you just hang back towards the endAnd it will all be done before you haveArrived.Lillette: Oh no, I want to see the gore.Cerith: Thank you your highness.Florizel: Yes back to business.

[A parting of ways]

Act II

Act II Scene 1

Chorus: The twisting path we follow leads us toThe royal chambers, where resides thatMost noble sovereign, tended in wise ageBy his most dubious Queen. Highest sovereign,Noble benevolent of this land, beware.He hears us not seeing only loving charm.

King: 'Twere we in swiftly vibrant youth once more,As when our days were fresh begun in yore,Then would our heart be pounding joy immense,Have greeted fondly efforts for the hunt’s expense.Now my tiring chin is cloaked in grey,Tiring wisdom persuades and has its sway,For we must preserve this ancient royal line,

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Preserve my blood, and bloody hands from pressmen’s whine.But ‘tis good to see the castle’s courtyard heartRunning actively for the hunter’s start.There is my prince, Ah Florizel, my one,When we lost a golden wife, we won a golden son.He will enjoy the hunt enough for two,I hope he has delight and his arrow runs true.Queen: Oh highness, have I, your Queen, so failedTo amuse, that you can only grieve uponThe passing of the hours; why have you railedAgainst today, so honouring what is gone?Your attentions, my highness, have driftedFrom what is present, not buried and long cold,Here I your wife am present and still unflatteredIn the face of a ghostly gripping Queen of old.I like your manly chin all cloaked in grey,I only wish its looks went more my way.King: My sweetest subject, please do not confuseMy respect of old and love of new;For you are fair beyond remark, and whoBut my Queen of hearts can so amuse.Yet, when a pauper or a king has slowed a little, whoseIs it to say the thing a man’s to doIs not to grieve a little, so I ask a fewMoments, moments of joy I know I lose.Please fret not my dear with knitted gaze,See how my joy in you is truly bold,For when you take my hand my heart is raised,When you smile at me the castle is not cold,But like my heart, all warm and full of praiseFor you my joyousness and your loving hold.Queen: My Lord, I hope you will not find me wantonIn my admiration of your vigour. The huntWill occupy all, we are alone, ourselves.Man and wife may hunt the dearer delves.This doe’s distress requires the stag’s desire,This doe awaits her handsome hunter’s fire.

[A kiss]

King: I am persuaded, who could escape, or not ariseUnder my sultry lady’s shimmering eyes.

Act II Scene 2

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Chorus: The time is due, the hunt is due to rideSo Tally Ho away, excitement ho and high.The courtyard’s brimming, thrilling, rushing ready,For horses, hunters, hounds, and all abounds.Darting grooms, and gentlefolk await;There runs our Princely Florizel callingLittle Lillette, with baffled mare in hand.See, see, here she runs, Lady Lillette runs.

Florizel: Lady Lillette, ah m’lady Lillette,There you are, we must depart forthwith.Lillette: Sorry, I am here, sorry, help me up.Florizel: And up you go.Lillette: Why am I doing this.By gawd, this dog meat’s high.Florizel: You’ll be just fine, our horse-lady in black.Lillette: If you laugh when I fall off I’ll kill you.Florizel: You won’t fall. Tally Ho and off,Let us go everyone, let’s go!

Act II Scene 3

Chorus: Such woe is in our fated path befallen;Hush the joyous sounds as we to morbidChambers drift. We follow the gentle steps,The maid answers a regal summons bell;Our humble nobly treads inequity’s path,For she addresses the call from royal roomsAnd must attend Queen Scerilene’s command.Here she stands to hear the dubious edict.

Queen: Fetch me some wine.Maid: Very good your majesty.

[Exit Maid Fair]

Queen: The king is not a man, for a man has a point.A pointless man can’t serve a woman’s need;He is a wrinkled and flaccid fool, a hairlessOld ape, an error, an insult to my womanhood.To put him down, and not to rid us of him,Is a job half finished. By God I wish he’d die,He’s a septic bellied putriance of collapsed flesh;

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And I am deprived of a woman’s natural right.He is an impotent imbecile, how he sired who is to know.He is not a king, he is not even a man.What am I to do? What can I do?I shall do what I must, fate’s path is cruel andHas many spikes; life screws and is not tender.I will take my share, to flinch now is to lose everything,Being soft is to be raped by the wanton.

[Enter Maid Fair]

Maid: Your wine your majesty.Queen: That will be all.

[Exit Maid Fair][Queen Scerilene adds poison to goblet of wine]

Queen: This is enough to kill the bloated rat.

[Enter King of Old]

King: His royal sovereign recognises graciously,That Her Majesty, our regal consort, lackedSuccessful performance between finelyAppointed sheets, and wishes to say with tactThat the failure to replace the skill efficaciouslyInculcated in my departed QueenIs not a point to be upheld so harshly,For the late Majesty had truly beenSo blessed with grace, and graceful pleasures schemed,Whilst our success with striving rests, and seenReward may follow cunning actions’ deed;So thus I shall forgive upon the deignTo promise greater efforts of delicatelyHeld encounters flowing successfully.Queen: So verily a promise I will joyously keep.King: Thus now we may with joy and hope so fullyForgive our sovereign partner, so rewardedBy such dear protestations as o’erturn all follyWith love, which is from you so sweetly attended.I feel such joy upon the climaticallyAscending, loyally embracing, loving dreams,Such that are due indeed to your regallyEndorsed embraces, which with loving teems,That I commend to thee now; to be returned

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To our o’er yonder chamber’s joyful means.A taste of wine to heat the blood’s desired,So served by thou, my maiden, my handsome Queen,My faun, my cup, my holder, my dutifullyObedient consort; the king awaits thee verily.Queen: Yes I will bring your wine to bed.King: Excellent

[Exit King of Old]

Queen: Now to make the pompous fool croak.Me, a failing servant, his mind has failedBeside his plumbing. With this glass he’s had his last,Then I shall have to weep and not to laugh.

Act II Scene 4

Chorus: Alas, alas, things scarcely could be worse;Though now we must descend, even untoThe flickering shadows of satanic hell.The hand of chaos has smitten such a blow.The cruel demonic plans are foul, its writRuns forth, power and pain written in regal blood.Lamentation, oh lamentation, but no,For we must face evil’s demonic crew.The demon plots anew, what more, oh no,To hear the aimed disasters to be wrought,Hush to listen under sorrow’s weight.

Demon: Well done my Witch, the King is newly dead,The madly lusting Duke need play his part;But more for we shall plan with means to spare.The Kingdom tips our way beyond their sight;New power shall so purge the offices of stateThat our vassals shall destroy the doors of infamy.Oh Witch, weave the web of spellsRun the rule of bloodSpin the stuff of dreamsTwist a Kingdom into ruin,Build the nightmares of righteousnessIn the glory of our destroyer.Witch: And so it shall be done my pugnacious Lord.The road to hell is paved with Kings.I am proud to strike against the forcesOf moral castration. This thing,

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Authority, breathing corruption, isTo be resisted, for anarchy – it beingThe march of future enlightenmentTo the revolution of truth rulingTheir hearts without foul confinement.I find nothing for authoritiesBut swift and cruel defilement.Sweet anarchy shall break man’s chains,Chaos can free the enslavement,The barbed mental bonds, the bindings,The harsh blinding habits of sinning.Demon: Yea, we are the servants of God’s glory,Raping the vestiges of human hypocrisy.Witch: We rip away the garments where sin hides,So naked man struggles to clamber the sidesOn the valley of the road that slopes to hell,And so cutting the rot before death’s bell.Demon: Men are blaspheming idolaters.Witch: Human authority is bowing to sinners.Demon: Vain blasphemies of overseersHide the holy majesties.Demon+Witch: Not with coins, or chains, or slaves, or books,Only with freedom, can man see the glory of God.

Act II Scene 5

Chorus: Time’s day has waxed and hunting’s all complete.Hearthward bound, our stalkers tread the weary pathsTo the castle’s feet. Yet look around,For where’s Lady Lillette and the dubious Duke.Ah yonder, behind our happy troop,Tarry awhile and watch the fallen duo meet,For the paths cross and the two must speak.

[Duke Cerith walks alone]

Cerith: I was to kill the Prince this day,Somehow today was not to be.To kill a Prince, how strange a thing,What foolishness was that to be?‘Tis like I’ve woken from a daze,From a homicidal haze.Joke not, this morning I was to killThe crowned Prince, my cousin Florizel.To wish to kill a living man,

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Oh Queen Scerilene’s maddening little plan.I must be young and foolish,Not to see her little jape with me.How could my errors be so vast,Shagging that old bitch will be a last.What could I have been thinking of,Next I’ll be shagging any old dog.

[Enter Lady Lillette]

Lillette: Duke Cerith, will you wait for me!I’m glad to see you’re lagging behind,Obviously something on your mind.Cerith: A penny for the thoughts indeed.I thought you would be off in the lead,Now we can trudge along awhile.The others are just ahead over yonder stile.Lillette: I was ahead and then my horse decidedTo dump me down some stupid path.So what stupidness did you doTo be journeying home last?Cerith: Yes indeed, I went astray today,And I am not going back along that way.There’s still no harm been done, though the ego’s dentedFor I really have stupidity repented.Lillette: I see the party up ahead,I see the doe that’s newly dead,Dripping blood along the groundThat’s licked away by the hounds.Cerith: I see the beauty of nature’s breeze,Blowing through the summer trees.It seems a shame to kill at all.Lillette: But we both need eat tonightAnd you will answer supper’s call.Cerith: Ah yes, though we forget, we are nature’s,And nature’s life and death is nobly set.We are fine to follow nature’s path,For only perversions do not last.Lillette: Nature’s fine and ordered, I agree,I just do not see it being me,And certainly not a decadent DukeEating venison for tea.Cerith: I’ll look more to nature’s way, and thenPerhaps we’ll both be noble some day.And you, you’re being less miserable,

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Whatever you may like to say.Lillette: Sometimes I almost think you mean what you say.Ah look, there’s the hunting party waiting.

Act II Scene 6

Chorus: Hark, the alarum bell is ringing loud,Imperturbable ancient stones disturbed,The castle buzzes, an angry hive of horror,Grief and rage, by God the King is dead.Oh kingly kin, the good Prince Florizel,Newly returned must hear this news.

Maid: Holy shit, so who is going to breakIt to the Prince. Well I suppose I should,Bloody hell Florizel, I’ll wait,Better from me than from the Queen, what should I say.I went in to make the beds and he was dead;The King, at his age, what was he thinking of,Perhaps I’ll leave out that bit. Your Father’s humpedHis last, is not the thing to say. Will he blame me,No, he’s too nice, perhaps I should get some tissues,Or would brandy be aristocratic. ShitI don’t want to do this, but the Queen’s aboutAs sensitive as ice. It is the leastI owe him. I’ve known Prince Florizel too long,He’ll stand so distant eyed and thank me.He’s too nice for such a cruel thing.Could he go into shock, should IHave sweet tea on standby, or brandy maybe?I could do with a brandy, a triple or two.

[Enter rushing Prince Florizel]

Florizel: What, what’s happened, came quickly as I could?Maid Bad news, the King

[Maid Fair takes Florizel’s hand]

Maid: Your Father, so terrible,I am sorry, I am crying for he blessed us all.Florizel: What are you saying, tell me so I hear the words.Maid: The King, your noble father, passed awayTwo hours ago, napping calmly in his chamber.He did not call, and when I found him alone,

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He looked at peace, surely blessing heaven.I tried to wake him from his happy dreams,But although still warm, he’d passed away.Florizel: It must have been a fright for you to find,Are you well, the shock has drained the colourFrom your cheeks, sit let me fetch you some water.It pains me to see you so cowled. So grimIs the visit of the angel of death, when with stealthHe creeps among us, and we find his work.Maid: I’m okay, I just feared to tell you the news.What’s a little shock beside the griefOf you losing your Father and our kind King.Florizel: Thank you for your so kind a concern, and wordsGentler than any other’s to break this sad news.I scarce believe the truth of such importance.My Father, the rock more solid that any otherWhereupon the Kingdom’s foundations rested,Such duty passed to me, so God help us all.Maid: First let’s worry about your Father’s needs,I know you will be an even better King,But now your Father lies in state withinThe castle chapel, where you should be seenAmong the mourners that pay their respects.Florizel: Yea, verily I will go, do not leave meI beseech you. I must breathe awhile.

[Enter Duke Cerith]

Cerith: Why calls the bell’s incessant alarms.Maid: The king is dead; long live the king.Cerith: Holy Fucking Damnation, God AlmightyHe’s dead. The King is actually really dead.

Act III

Act III Scene 1

Chorus: Frantic afternoon has died with the sighsOf a setting sun. Deep evening supersedesThe day, and darkness in the castle chambersPlays; but all is not still, even beyondThe failing echo of the banshee’s wail.The Duke is drawn to the regal chamber’s door,Is he the penitent or just lusts whore,Does he seek the bed where the poisoned body lay,

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To indulge in rancid passionate acts,Or is he here to play the role of virtues’ toy.Spiralling Duke and Queen, the children of the fall,Hush to hear them speak, vile pair.

Queen: So glad to see my Duke, kiss me firmly.Cerith: The King is dead.Queen: I’m so relieved it worked,I knew it would, after all it was your plan.What about the Prince, but first kiss me.Cerith: I didn’t go through with it.Queen: There is always tomorrow.Cerith: No. No. No. I can’t believe it happened.The King is dead, by God Almighty we’re damned.It is impossible, you are a wicked women,I should throw you in the dungeon myself you witch,Hag, murderess, traitor, tramp, free whore of evil.Queen: I did it for you, and for love, our love,I risked everything for you, you are my everything.You cannot abandon me now, leave the Prince be,No more death. Now we can be together.The King’s passing is a tragic endThat even I lament, though was my yokeTo live under kingly pomposity.But now we may love, and be as lovers be.Cerith: Get away from me, you cannot change:A cruel death’s cruel, and a foul hag’s foul.Queen: I did what you told me, when and how.You love me, you know you love me,Why else would you have set me on this course?I have with blood a sacrifice offered,To you, and our love; for your handsome hand doth ruleMy heart. You may’st well rip out my heartAs take away from me your hand.Cerith: You set me on the wrongest path, my pathSurely must veer away, for yours wasBeside the King, for whom Holy God,Lover of this world weeps.I was foolish to think I loved you so,I am young, you not so, I foolishAnd full of words, you not so.Queen: It is late, I like you am weary and upset,You have hunted all day, but I hope the morningChase was finer. Your words, they hurt like burningArrows tearing my flesh and filling rips

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With burning tar; tomorrow let us speakMore gently, for it is night time, and late.Cerith: I am sorry but still appalled.

[They kiss]

Cerith: Good NightQueen: Goodnight

[They part ways]

Act III Scene 2

Chorus: Alas again we must to deep fires descend,For foul visitation of the gleaming pit.Supernaturals fiddle the plans of truth,Tormenting and twisting the sinuous souls of man.Oh rancorous blasts, the furnaces of hellWhich never cease from forging the weaponsGainst the Babylonian vanities of man:Blasphemy, the divine right of Popes and Kings,Proven fallers afore temptations plate.Alas, what jocund mood are they who will,Upon the brow of man, destruction strike?What ignominies will they release upon our Prince,Which with the eleventh commandment fall:Thy weakness shall be seen. So hush and hear.

Demon: The Duke has all at once, so gone awry.He is redundant to our plans, yet weHave a price to pay, for Lillette did buyFor him, cruel death wrapped in coils of madnessAnd the hellish. We shall comply at once.Witch: Nay Master, for assuredly he shall burn,He betrays love, and deals in murder.Demon: There is one way: We shall send unto himHis Father, who with the King in yonder chamber burns.He shall give unto the Duke a vision.A vision of truth, an awful ugly maddening truth,The sight of the Duke himself unseemed withoutVeil or hypocrisy, with the festering moral woundsTransparent, as we may see ungodliness.Maybe he may be penitent, if no, then neverShall redemption reign upon his head.

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We will have tried, and his salvation I would notPresume to judge, as ‘tis for he the son of man,Who oft has forgiven utmost with the finestTechnicalities of true penitence, humility, and grace.Witch: And what of the Prince, who may become another King.Demon: For him we move from the sword of truth,To the arrows of love; true love is mighty indeed.I hope to redeem a Prince, easier indeed to threadAn elephant through the eye of a needle, mayhapFlorizel has yet humility undestroyed by vanity.Kind Witch, it is for you to open his heart.Witch: So you speak, shame’s Lord, shall it be done.Demon: Yet call me Edgar.Witch: And me Mildred.Demon&Witch: All true servants of God are unworthy,But happy in his works.

Act III Scene 3

Chorus: Deep Night is in the ducal chamber sat.The day of Kingly death has passed away,Though still it rests in fatal mindset weightUpon Duke Cerith, treason’s progenitor.He talks and twitches madly, yet no one hears.Hush and let us hear the words of sin.

Cerith: Too much, indeed, too much. What have I doneHow can it be, how can, it be, that IYes, that I, what I, I indeedHave done, oh my uncle, poor noble,Dead, and yet, it cannot be, but is.That day when my Father’s mortal remnants restedFirst beneath the soil, then I wept,As a child does, upon a kindly Kingly sleeve.Yet now, how can I weep my plan awry,Even my father, would not have thought that thought,To kill my kin, to kill my King, to bedMy Queen; incomparable corruption.The King’s chivalric soul’s example unlearned.Oh my uncle, great, good, man,Who hugged me, as his son, a debased wretch.I lived so daily-close to Kingly presence,And yet, and still, a vial, a worthless whoringInsatiate, blinded by barren lust.Is there any given so much and yet

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So disgusting, repugnant, foul.Oh people, weep, and hate me,For sending forth obscene, cruel, andNoxious acts, to poison a kingdomOf lives, that each’d choose death, in service ofOur Regent, a noble, wise, and holy soul.I am but a wretched sycophant,Thief, of tawdry, lusting, hateful, crimes.Vermin, nay worse, a murderous vile.What good have I offered ever?Never anything, and never anythingCan be done to repay this crime.Corruption calls this breast sweet home.

[Picks up knife]

Oh bleak, and pestilent, fingers, I corrupt the worldI touch. Would I, were worthless, and never born.Father, don’t look upon me thus,See me not, see me not I beg,I long for burning pits, n’er so hotAs tears of grief. Oh fatherMust I plummet the spiral pathTo hottest sulphur pit’s releaseOf flaying flesh’s burning embalm.Stare not upon me Father,I shall rid the worldOf its vilest beast,‘Tis little token for the crime,But escape for I the sinner.I pray verily the devil himselfWill not recoil in horrorAt the worthlessness of I,Which to him I offer supplicationWith my tepid, pestilent, blood.Where are you Father. Gone. And so must I.

[Falls on Dagger]

May I with my last have right,And cleansed the world a little,Or at least escaped this pain.Father do not leave me, hold me now.

Act III Scene 4

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Chorus: This night, though deep, is sadly active still,Sleep seems not to descend upon the brows,For though the Duke has from awakeness broken,Prince Florizel in his high chamber seeks drink.The ale, oh harbinger of forgetfulness,And bringer of honest cheer to every man.May oblivion o’er come the woes of KingTo be, oh noble Prince, the grieving son.Let us see this spectacle of royal grief,Feel hysteria inside the common hearts,And sup the wine of common regal prey.

Maid: Prince Florizel, I have as you wanted,Brought the jug of ale, may I speak to you.Florizel: Nay I would not hear it, why so must IWith fresh complexion present the public my FatherIn a gift wrapped box, when grief demands sorrowFostered in the darkness of solitude and despairs lament.Maid: If you wish to be alone, I shall go,For me you’re not a national trinket to be chimed,For you’re modest and as heartfelt as any other man.You use a chamber pot, an’ perhaps you weepWhen your Father dies, and drink you want and shall.Florizel: Would I could weep, yet stay awhile I ask.I sought the Duke but could find him not,Drink ale as you wish, you who King and IPerhaps better knew, e’en than we ourselves.Sit, tonight you are my equal, as your tongueIs everyday; what think you of the King?Maid: The ill actions of the dead should not be dwelt upon,And the King was proper in public placesAnd the dignity of heaven held his sepulchre.In private rooms also he spoke littleTo us who ran these walls, but then he’s just,Though short in command and long in explanation.Florizel: Perhaps ‘tis faint praise, for heaven’s steward.Maid: All held him in high esteem, a respect sovereign.Florizel: I am lost without him, I who tarried with youth’sFoibles, what know I of kingly matters,That to him seemed natural as to breathing.Maid: I’m sure your best will do the job, and well,Even as I sure you’ll give your best.Florizel: But ‘tis like I’ve had my horse die under me,Even at the first gate of a race we had to win,

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And I am falling, tumbling, like a child weepingFearful amongst the flesh of the breath that bore meBut breathes no more, though justice sayeth was notYet his time, and e’en as my eyes still swimI am haunted by voyeurs and the visions of white stained flesh.Let us drink deeper and hate those hateful gawpers.Maid: To those we’ve lost and the future that may come.Florizel: The future, that word, I seek not be, but creepsLike gangrene up a wounded limb, so painAnd putrefaction, and failure’s loss will leadUnto the harsh battlements that thunderThe boiling oil of scorn upon dishonour’s door.Maid: I’ll tell you the truth, I have seen the King reigning,And a child, no even I who is no wiser,Yet is less blessed by the son of man could rule.You who listens well to truths, and excitesThe faith of many, even the gawping public,Could fail only with unlikely stupid arrogance.Florizel: What know I of infrastructure and interest rates,I hear not the voice of fate saying go learn these things,I hear the fickle logic that goes I know not whereScreaming, verily screaming, the arbitrariness of power.You, you who are dynamic, effective, and fine,You could run a kingdom as well as nearYou run this regal house, and all within.I see the old faithfuls carryout your words,You, who in the twinkling of an eye has a stateFuneral arranged, and all hither thither ordered.Maid: Even in sorrow and in ale, you’re kind.For me to do these things is work, and whatI wish to do, for the burden should not restOn you, who grieves, and faithfuls see this too.Death is not so nice, but perhaps it is likeThe cycle of the seasons, and you shall fillThe King’s shoes, as well as your Father,And worried sons in turn, in nature’s way.Florizel: You comfort me best, and know me well, but stillThe crown, falling from son to son like an oldHeirloom, lasts not forever, as once a sonMust arise, who’ll drop the piece irreparable.Were it not that only he whose vanityWas larger than his sense would accept, I wouldVerily give the thing away tomorrow.Maid: Perhaps a man who serves his people wellWould for duty’s call accept this charge,

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And carry it to his best and well, and you be he,On whom the love and hopes of many rests.Florizel: When I see you I feel a love and hope,Maybe I should command thee in thy dutyTo take this bauble of responsibility,For which thou, who art of unranked bloodIs assuredly better equipped than I, who caresMore to hear your words, than speak of state.Would I could hunt a little and sit at your feetAnd hear your words, then I would unfairHappiness know, beyond the triumphs of tales.Maid: I shall not count the tipsy tales you speakAgain tomorrow, but I shall try my bestTo forgive the sweetness of your words,You melancholic flatterer, you heartTwisting, good souled, royal drunken beau.Florizel: I blame not the ale for love, but youWho art too lovely, and I who loves you.Maid: I blame fate that separates our ranks,And ale that chaffs the chains that line out paths,And you who should be haughty and not so fine.Florizel: What good is kingship that won’t break the chainsFor love.Maid: Oh, I must go.

[Maid Fair stands and then so Prince Florizel stands]

Florizel: I beg you please stay.Maid: How could I go, or think to, you are gorgeous,But forbidden.Florizel: Beauty, we will be togetherIf you will grace my life unforbidden,For you are my angel.

[They kiss passionately tender]

Act III Scene 5

Chorus: Let us with stealth, ladies and gentlemen,Leave this pair to untie their chains with intimacy,And gather in the chamber of Lady Lillette.Even in the dark light she has awoken,To what purpose doth this virginal daughter sleep not;Perhaps she does repent, and prays for peace.

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May the mercy of God, lift the burden of guilt,That she, like the roof of a pit, has brought downUpon herself, by the acts of unholy alliance.Let us sit still to hear her private words.

Lillette: Ahh Florizel. Ahh what a dreaming:I was in a chamber chainedWith soft shackles, hands to ceilingFeet to floor, both splayed beneathA black hooded cloak of velvet.Then Duke Cerith appeared, and opensMy cloak; and through his eyes I sawMy nakedness, ivory, glimpsingIn the half-light. My contouredNeck sculpting my delicate shoulders,That lifted with my sharpening breaths,That heaved the pertness of my breasts,That thrust my coral tipped points, forward.His eyes drop over my slender gaspingBelly to the arch of spread white thighsWhich bestride the hot dark nestling,The small moist heart, pounding.Duke Cerith’s tongue flickered, long and forked,Reptilian quivering weird.He knelt so slowly down afore me,And I, with eyes now closed fearful, feltHis forked tongue flickering like platinum fireOver my crown and jewel, until IWith unnatural delight exploded.Left giddy, I felt the DukeStand and move upon my rear.He lifts my cloak and as he gaspsEach firm and pearly buttock, my eyes wide opened.Thus I see my sweated body’sWhiteness gleaming in a dim valleyDark grassed and thundering.Galloping towards me was Florizel,As a giant eight foot tall; uponA huge steed as black as darkness.He leaps upon the ground,Even as the Duke enters,Squeezing my tight throbbing home.The Prince undoes one arm and I clap his neck,The other and I go to clasp his belt,But find I grasp his giant helm,

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Hard erect, thick and longAs my forearm, glinting purple in the half-light.I grasped both hands upon his neck,As he enters the flaming crown of my womb;Now pumping ecstatic as Duke and PrinceMade me a conduit of seething pleasure,Deeper with fountains of molten time,Elation, joy, oh bestial rhymeShook my wasted body;Squeezed to some other place.Oh more, and on, would it never ended,Oh Florizel, Oh Prince Florizel,I am exhausted waiting for more.Oh my, oh my God, what have I in weirdPleasures coil been thinking.I am clothed in sweat and wet,Though the darkened night is mild.I shall try to sleep again;But would I think of him as well,Even as my fevered blood boils.

Act IV

Act IV Scene 1Chorus: Grey fingered tendrils choke the night aforeThe rise of dawn with disparate dusken rays.The heavy darkness of the fortress wallsCollapses, silently silhouetting the shapesOf huddled servants, trudging purposefulWith duties, for the King’s funeral day.We wonder through to Princely chambers gloom;What sigh is there of grim preparationsMade for grief and mourning, or is the royalPrince still snoring? Beware the evils of aleThat can make fresh morning feel quite stale.There is a stirring in the royal bed,Good grief, that is not the Prince, it isThe Maid instead. Oh what improper harlotry,The Maid, oh wicked temptress, oh corruptionIn the Prince’s bed. Listen, that weMay damn her, and cast stones on her whoring head.

Maid: Oh well, he’s still asleep, shit,I have things to do.What was I thinking, a couple of drinks

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And I tell him I love him.I could just snuggle up again.Get a grip women, you’ve pulled the Prince,That’s almost treason.Bloody hell, the funeral’s today,God I wonder what time it is.Should I wake him up,Wake him up and say what?Say: Sorry I ended up in bed with youWhen you were paralytic and vulnerable,But now you have to hitch upWith a common women as you…,Well he can’t have been that drunk.It would never work.I think I have just ruined my life,I shall probably be quietly sackedAs a little embarrassment, shit.Well it would’ve been worth it,If it wasn’t for the way I’ll miss him so.Sober up girl, think straight.Duty – my duty is to getThe funeral working, whetherI love him doesn’t alter that.He’ll just wake up, be embarrassed,And kick me out politely;Have some dignity please.He was quite pissed,He might not even remember anything,That might be for the best.With a bit of luck he mightPretend nothing happened anyway.After all he’s nice and gets embarrassed.Well he wasn’t embarrassed last night – my stud muffin.This is no time for giggling, I don’t giggle; God I must love him.Well that’s my problem not his.Okay, the plan is get dressed,Get out, organise the funeral,And pretend it never happened.Now where did I leave my bra?Think formal, proper, clothed.God he’s beautiful.

[Maid Fair kisses Prince Florizel on the cheek, who snores]

Why is he so everything,

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Why do I do this to myself?Let’s get out of here,Before I have to wake him upWith a surprise he’d enjoy.

Act IV Scene 2

Chorus: Yonder Maid obeys the call of duty,We cannot flinch Ladies and Gentles all;We leave this chamber an’ sink: FromThe children to the masters of the fall,Even unto the blasted netherlands,To the vengeful sights, the poisonous furl,The hyena laughing fires of liberality’sCorruption, conspired by treacherous fiends,Mocking, mocking us good folk, evenAs they undermine our fortitude,From hell’s bunkerous carbuncle lair.O’People, mark their words and be armed.

Witch: Edgar, my demon lord, I’ve failed you.Demon: Not so, not so my friend, Witch Mildred,You have done fine work.Witch: Yes, but ‘twas notEnough, oh to see such truth defeated;Poor mankind, what foolishness, betraying love.Demon: Yes, I also lament the Maid abandoningThe finer instincts of man afore false duty.We can only underestimate their idolatries,Their worshipping of the chains of putrid rank;Especially afore the call of a worthless corpse,A mere vanities vessel of man’s true form.Witch: Although failing in our endeavour, I’ll try again.True love is noble, delicate, tender,And worthy of every tragic trial’s efforts.Demon: Your actions’re true, though fear I things go notOur way. Redeeming man is verilyReconciling truth with prodigal lies.Witch: We still have cards within our hand this turn,Even as things have gone away from us,So they may return, if in fate we trust.Demon: Yes true, the path of righteousness is strange,Twisting sometimes far from glory’s sight,Yet we shall overcome our fears with hope,Though victory is far from near.

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Demon & Witch: For we who work for love shall bear this cross,Knowing love, triumphantly, may reign.

Act IV Scene 3

Chorus: We leave these evilly malcontented fiends,Happy in the knowledge that their wicked plansTo rule mankind have run awry aforeThe armaments of mortal duty.The vanquished foes, the raiders of our weakAnd libertarian fortifications, stillDefeated. The blows of truth and rightAre striking to ensure our victory.We need see our heroic victor,The handled Prince, who rises with the dawn.I pray, nay I’m sure he’s uncorruptedBy torrid actions that in weaknesses’ nightMay have sadly distracted him. He,Who should be praying that he could be:Yet near as proper a King as Holy GodHad blessed his dear departed Father be.Perhaps he prays for his saintly Father’s guidanceIn his sleeping chamber as we speak,So let us thither have a little peek.

[Prince Florizel is snoring, pause, then enter Lady Lillette]

Lillette: Good Morning Prince Florizel, wake up, helloooFlorizel: Ugh, um, ur, what time is it?Who, my God, what are you doing here?It’s too early. Where’s the maid? Ow,My head, it hurts. The maid she normallyWakes me up, but she’s not here, hello Lillette.Lillette: Well she is sorting out arrangements, soHere I am, with a cup of tea, made byMyself to offer friendly support in your hour of need.Florizel: What a weird morning.Lillette: I can be nice.Florizel: Thank you, tea, ahh what a great idea. Good morning.Lillette: You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.Florizel: Thanks I feel it.Lillette: Not that you look that bad,Almost cute.Florizel: Now this is strange, you haven’t poisoned this teaHave you?

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Lillette: I am allowed to pay aCompliment aren’t I?Florizel: Yes of course,And you are looking very smart yourself,I think the boots are particularly interesting,Although maybe not ideal for funerals,Perhaps the all in black is good.Anyway, what time is it?Lillette: You always criticise me, it’s unfair.Florizel: I do not, you’re my favourite – petVicious person. But it feels very,Very early and I’d rather be asleep.The maid will wake me up at a sensible hour.Lillette: She won’t come in, she’s really busy andWe’ve agreed I’d come instead.Florizel: Oh fantastic.Lillette: I’ll stay, I could snuggle upAnd wake you up in an hour.Florizel: No you couldn’t. What’s got into you today?Lillette: I just wanted to tell you about my dream.Florizel: Okay briefly, then you go away.Lillette: It was a really nice dream; I dreamtWe got married and I was walking upThe isle in white, with a veil, and a largeWhite plume in my hat; and for some reasonI had your arm around me all ceremony,And it was very sweet and tingly,Especially when you kissed me; althoughIf we do get married I’ll want to wear black,Unless you insist of course. I doubtI’d want to get married a virgin anyway.Florizel: Right, fine, go away,Don’t worry it will never be an issueI’ll have to deal with. In factI already have sympathyFor the poor sap you get your claws into.If you see the maid could youPlease ask her to bring me some aspirin.Goodnight, ow my head hurts.Sorry but it’s just too early.Lillette: It’s eight-thirty, and I am sorry aboutYour Father, but you shouldn’t be rude.Florizel: Okay, okay, I’ll get up. Now ifYou wouldn’t mind I’d like some privacy.Lillette: I’m going; and I’m glad I don’t have to try

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And cheer you up. You really are a git in the morning.Florizel: I’m sorry. Thank you for the tea, andI’ll see you later.Lillette: Goodbye!

[Exit Lady Lillette, slams door]

Florizel: All my thinking is as crooked as a triple fork,I wonder how the maid was this morning,I’m surprised she did not wake me,Oh God, I hope she does not have regrets,But I suppose she had things to do.The funeral’s the dark hanging shadowAfore which all light trifles are and mustBe brushed aside. Oh grief’s avalancheMourning for my father’s cold honour.Yet am I wicked, for I think uponMy morning maid, my fairest laughing light,Her fine concern and hot lips haunt my mind,And I whisper to myself; life is for the living,And she makes me alive, so alive.But I must get up, and think ofA Father’s remnant and the stateTo entertain, with tragic theatre.

Act IV Scene 4

[Blackout, Pregnant Pause]

Queen: ARRRRHHHHH[Long blood curdling bodied scream]

Chorus: We have been distracted so grimshod,To the sight of the satanic hand.Hush afore the fallen, oh Duke Cerith,Dead in his darkened chamber.

[Queen Scerilene stands seeing Duke Cerith’s corpse in a pool of blood]

Queen: ARRRRHHHHH[Blood curdling bodied scream]

[Pause]

Queen: ARRRRHHHHH

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[Blood curdling bodied scream]

Queen: My Duke Cerith, you are dead,Killed by whose hand, please not your own,You silly, silly, boy. Look, he liesDefiled, skewered by his own knife.Why, oh why, you foolish boy.It cannot be, we were to be free;Oh GOD YOU CRUEL BARSTARDYOU CHEATED ME again.He was too sweet for the abrasions of this world,But I had solved everything for him,Everything. I should have talked, explained more.How could this have happened?I still do not see it, oh blood.What happened here, he is not allowedTo abandon me, the fool.What hand is here. Oh the pain,Oh my temples, and this hag can’t see,I must escape.

[Queen Scerilene weeps]

[Enter Lady Lillette]

Lillette: Mother, Mother, was it your screams,My God the Duke, is he dead?Queen: My daughter help me leave this place,‘Tis not for a child to see, hold my arm,My knees knock, and my teeth chatter.Oh the horror.Lillette: The Duke is in a poolOf blood, should we help him?Queen: The blood is black,The face long wears the mask of death,We cannot help.Lillette: It is impossible.Queen: It is terrible, a second death, so young,So young, oh curses on our royal house.

Act IV Scene 5

Chorus: It oft is said that news upon the windIs fed, with tidings spreading as wild fire.Yet this indeed is not the way, for to

36

Each lonely place a knower must have clearly spake;Thus, so it is to our Prince FlorizelThat young Lillette seeks solace, walking asShe does, into a desolate place with talesTo echo woe across these princely chambers.

Lillette: Oh Florizel, why is it so terrible.Florizel: What, yes, our King.Lillette: No, yes, I mean that,It’s just thatFlorizel: It’ll be okay.Lillette: No you don’t understand, Duke Cerith,He’s well, he’s gone as well.Florizel: Gone?Lillette: I saw the soulless body in his room.Florizel: Surely not as well.Lillette: It was horrible.Florizel: My God, it cannot be, yet, you trick me?Lillette: NoFlorizel: No, for in your eyes is grief’s lament.Lillette: He’s dead, cold and crumpled, his blood seeped,Dark, thick, and sticky, with his own knifeProtruding handlewise from his corpse;His body twisted and his face contorted.The Queen, Mother, she screamed and says“It is his hand for that is his knife.”Oh Florizel, what are we to do?Florizel: If the sun was not to rise, so pray,I’d wait believing time would bring our dawn.I would not see the never arriving days;So how can we say that it is time to mourn,When what’s before our eyes is death’s perplex,Ripping life immutable away.Oh grief, discarded toy, a child’s reflexPlaying with a jigsaw of our hearts’ decay.Maybe the fleshy pieces might have fit,But now our hearts are shattered, what’s to do,But to live as our heartless breasts permit;Moving limbs and speaking words, that toThe uninitiate speak of human warmthAnd not our marching autonomic death.

[They sit in silence, then Enter Maid Fair]

Maid: Your most Royal Highness, Lady Lillette,

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May I come in and on behalf of the staffExpress our shock at this latest tragedy.The sad details have just come to lightFlorizel: Oh do shut up, no doubt you’re pleased he’s dead.Lillette: Maybe you’d better go.Florizel: Yesterday,Sweet yesterday, you said as much. Up toNo good you said.Maid: I meant nothing by it.Florizel: Now that I can believe. No doubt just playingAround and driving people to suicide,Between taking advantage and making…,Making those cups of tea. No doubt it’ll allMake you a fine sleazy story some day.Maid: You should not say such disrespectful things.Florizel: Heartless BitchLillette: Arhh [screams], Shut up!Just Shut Up! Its all my fault, I toldHim to.Florizel: You, you tell everybodyTo kill themselves, it’s one of your better traits.I just wish the servants would do as you say.

[Maid Fair exits and slams door]

Florizel: Aren’t you going too?

[Lady Lillette exits and slams door]

Florizel: Thus shall it be, the reign of Florizel,Idiot Florizel the farcical.

Act V

Act V Scene 1

Chorus: Time irresolute slides,Slipping by the numb struck standing,Passing under mortal shadows.Morning has departed this staling day.For bedecked mourning of another sortBlackens the streets in a monstrous procession,Regaling the honours bestowed by death’s angel.Black horses, black plumed, march,

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Rolling veiled carriages, behindThe sedate head of state; shining black-Boxed, bedecked with the glistening white of twinedLilies, chaining shut this case with scent,That heavy, lingers sweetly, through the softenedSunshine, airless, still, before the pallidSilence of grey faced solemn respect.Hordes of a Kingdom, still and bowed,See sorrow bend its head, for our King is dead.

Florizel: This day I stand afore ye thrice tragic:We are gathered here to honour him,Regal majesty, Heaven’s anointed King,My father, so great and fair, our Kingdom’s rock.Also, we newly learn of our Duke Cerith,My cousin and friend, whose shocking loss, I pray,Is tempered by the gain of paradise.So, I am here to eulogise our regent,A man of honour and dignity, paeanOf regal governance, ennobler of our people,Enricher of our lands, friend of the just,Redeeming guiding hand, beloved fatherOf our Kingdom. From the long faces,And fallen tear, the scented flowers, and publicWoe, assuredly you knew him well.

Act V Scene 2

Chorus: And it comes to pass that he who wasOur King is laid to rest beyond our ken.Thus, we may, drifting castle bound,See the after-stroke of the aftermath:Our Prince Florizel, or should I say our King to be,Returning to his chambers heavy treaded,Shuffling, hunched like a fool, decayed.Lament is done but still lament I say.

Florizel: Oh, it hangs not so good upon me,This crown, nor heart within my breast.

[Enter Maid Fair]

Maid: May I come in.Florizel: I know not what you may.Maid: Would you have my words, as the words of a friend?

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Florizel: Would you were my friend, nay, pretend a while.Maid: As I am your friend I cannot pretend;So let me sit and be with you,In this so brief a moment of sorrow sweet.You have made me a fool and wise,But this once sensible girl now cries.Florizel: We all are fools and I am not to guess,But mayhap it is the lucky who cry.Would I had cried when you had goneAs when farewell was in my Father’s song.Maid: I cannot stay and love a distant king,And you, you cannot love a common maid;So I shall go upon my path today,For there can be no other way.Florizel: Spare not the words, I am just a man.I have a heart that loves a maid,Even if fair, needed you, loves me not.Be still, just say: will action let you stay,Whether love is in your eyes,Whether life’s heart is bound in loving ties,Whether truth and hope and dreams are lies?If so, what can I do but that my world dies.Maid: You silly sweetheart mine and crooked cross,I want to do the best for us.Florizel: I see a maiden that is matchless,Queen of all Kings, Love of Loveliness.Maid: I feel my handsome sad bloke’s smiling sightAnd feel his big heart shining bright.Florizel: My maiden smiles like a petalled flower openingIn the warm sunshine after the rain. BlinkingHer azul eyes with dewy drops a-twinkling:And I’m so happy because it’s of me she’s thinking.Maid: My lover he loves me and he’s my man,He’s my strong stud stallion and sweet little lamb.Florizel: You’re so fine and you’re mineSmiling pretty all the time.Maid: You’re not quite right, but doing well,You’re actually mine or can’t you tell.Florizel: My noble lady’s so good of heartI love to be her posh fit tart.Maid: Well he’d better kiss me extra quickOr I won’t be here to give him stick.Florizel: Well here’s a snog, we’ve a few to do,As for kingship, what am I to rue,I have a plan, I know what to do,

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And it involves kissing you.

Act V Scene 3

Chorus: Humming Gloria with forked tongues,Look how evil has held sway with false love.Oh would they be recantant, oh fallen foolsCheered on by demonic device.Let us scout out the fiery pasturesTo gain intelligence gainst the foes.Mayhap yet we can have this Prince recant,And then embrace honour’s tradition’s role,As keenly as he embraces his evil harlot maid,And send her burning to treason’s early grave.Be resolute good foot soldiers, as weSpy out demonic caverns heated hells,Where cunning Demon and Witch plough evil ply.

Witch: That was a pretty sight, a sweet couple.Demon: These poisoned apple eaters learn corruptionPreached blasphemies from birth.The babes are born astride a grave,The pit bog swilling hypocritic purulence,Sucking souls to gruesome death,With their guts disgorged by their mouths as the retchThe poison of their pastor’s wordsOn each new-born, in their turn.So when instead they learn to crawl, exhaustedFrom this pit, alive, and see, handIn hand, the joy of dawn arise, true loveWith nature, and nature’s beauty sighed,How are we not to know elation?Witch: Yea, we don’t see blinded innocence,But wise beauty, holiest holy,True love Magnificat,And our Maid and Prince so happy.Demon: It is enough to make me cry with joy.I am so proud of you.

[Edgar Demon hugs Mildred Witch]

Witch: And I of you.Demon: So all we need do is rid us ofQueen Scerilene, ensure the princely abdication,And see Lillette is crowned.

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Prince Florizel is enamoured, andThe law though foolish is the law prescribed,And the King mayn’t take a common bride.So who is left, yes who indeed, underSuccession’s arcane deed: It is the legallyAdopted daughter, Lady Lillette,The step-daughter of our departed King.Witch: Perhaps, but can we save Queen Scerilene,It is cruel to send her to her death.

Act V Scene 4

Chorus: All rise, all rise, ladies and gentles all.All rise, as in traditions time foretold:All eyes to this monarchal ceremony,All bow to show our sovereign liege our place,All sit and sit still afore our reigning Prince.And listen, honest folk, for Prince FlorizelWill address thee, with such instructions,As falling from his lips, shall displayThe wise spectrum of good governance.His inaugural words bespake our future,With, let us have hope, divine guidance.

Florizel: I come before you as a man, strangelyAuthorised by birth and death as sovereign regent.This is the way declared upon the coronationOf a new King. So you may say: Thus shallPrince Florizel be anointed King Florizel,And swear all his allegiance to the pathOf righteous duty, and reign vaingloriously.Or you may say, our King: By his commandmentWe are ruled, we many loyal servants,As were our father’s before us, happyTo know our place, to see enforced the lawBy Kingly word appointed and by Kingly seal anointed.Yet strangely it is I, your royal Prince,Who may say how it is to be in tomorrow’s day,I, who may be rash and petulantIn my way. Yet perhaps, now I offer you a gift,A gift I based on worthy consideration,And pronounced by a heartfelt sense of what should be;A dream of what is right that hangs heavy on my chest.I hope you won’t have cause to say our FlorizelAbdicates cares and duty-owed service,

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But instead are charitable to me and mine:For Prince Florizel I am, and thus hear my design.Simplicity has always been my friend,And good ruling is not a simple business.So we should find a wise and honest leaderTo take due service of this command,And employ them to run our governance;Heaping not jewelled aggrandisements upon their head,But offer just fair wages for duty’s service.Hear Now, I command it is agreed:We each seek out a capable stewardTo present for popular ballot,To hold this office upon a two year term,As the people’s servant, serving us all,And thus our Kingdom may be ruled byA good ruler, and need no King no more.In every loyal shire bring forthA representative; for the duty fallsUpon the shoulders most capable,And whether they will it or no.Our duty is to find and scrutiniseThis wise and good servant, to aid and commandThem from their modesty to lead us all,And assign their aides to noble causes.We will now have for four weeks, a campaign of seekingFor our steward, and then the elected day,And so shall the People’s Servant beAppointed bi-annually in general ballot,To take and leave office without undueCeremony. Now we are all to doOur part for patriotic duty’s due.

Act V Scene 5

Chorus: Tragic cowardice O’Subjects,This seen treason is afloatOn princely lips, wilfullyBurning the Godly towers,Institutions, pillars of this land;Collapsing the halls of power on the banquetters.A destruction of the birthright –The abdication of noble callings duty,Estranged afore the whim of FlorizelThe unforgivable, harloteer, traitor,Satanic Prince. Oh forces of propensity

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Be marshalled. Would they cry alarumOnce more, ‘ere we see the greater tragedyThan the regal funeral,But the funeral of the regal.

Queen: O’Dark Dungeon Chamber that watchedThe fools in us left denied; redundantBefore the abandoned pinnacles, the kicked over follies,The litter strewn corpses of death’s abandon.I alone in death, I alone in a dark place,I am my own dungeon keeper, and I chain myselfTo these still dungeon walls with solitariness,As no person should, as I cannot, butTo endure; pitiful but unpitied,As are all the haggard winsome:Hollow shells, discarded polluted vessels,For power fails as power is thrown away.A raked up grief subsides. An honest man may call,Who’s to say, who’s to say, swung and sway,Turning no tiller to direct life’s way.Who can I reproach, what use is that,[Queen Scerilene lies on the floor]Husband, husband, and lover tombed.Oh my collapsed fallen frightners fell. Gibber,Like a child does, with incessant words,For hearts of glowing granite do not crack, giftsShall more be given, fallen fruit may make champagne,Although, only in my dreams, oh twisted machinations.Be peaceful old child, sit awhile as must, and not to die.The shattered world flickersShattered has beens off a rippled sea.The still starless sky, black velvet,Reflects, like shards of broken mirrors swirling,The crimson sky jewels of imaginings;The bladed scenes of human harvest,Cutting with pulsing blades, blood,Fountaining blood across the sky, and screams.

[Silence until rustle]

Who is that?

[Enter Lady Lillette]

Lillette: Mother, is that you down there?

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Queen: Who calls, who goes there!Lillette: It’s me.Queen: Who, Lillette, is that you?Lillette: Duh – HelloQueen: What are you doing spying on me.Lillette: I wasn’t, I just wanted some peace.Queen: I am sorry child, come sit down.Lillette: I am not a child.Queen: I know, I know,I was upset, please don’t go.Lillette: I can if I want to.Queen: Yes, I suppose you may,But please, I was upset, I found Cerith.You must be upset too.Lillette: I didn’t know I was supposed to have feelings.Queen: I am not a very good person sometimes.Lillette: I wouldn’t know.Queen: I have made everythingGood, bad; you were a real help,Brave, when I could only shake,And now I’m driving you away as well.What kind of mother am I?Lillette: Um?Queen: Well I am pretty crap.Lillette: You are still my mother, althoughYou seem to forget a little sometimes.Queen: You were such a good childYou never screamed much,Played by yourself, kept out of the way.Lillette: Maybe I was saving my breathWhen nobody was listening.Queen: I lost my way, always seeking, never finding.Lillette: You became the Queen.Queen: Yes, I suppose I did, but I am not sureMy mother would have wanted that.Lillette: What was she like my grandmother?Queen: Aside from me, barren,A sickly doting stay-at home,I was more my father’s daughter.He took them to his drunken grave.I loved my father and he never hit meEven in his lowest rage.He showed me he loved me;He held my hand, whispering my name,On breath of liquor, as he died.

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Lillette: He does not sound very nice.Queen: Maybe life is about being nice,But he’d take a swingAt any who’d suggest it;I did his rules, he was a man.Lillette: Father was a good man.Queen: You miss him still. I thoughtThe castle, the court, would keep us busy.You were young, it seems a long time ago.Lillette: I remember him a lot, he made me smile.Queen: We can look after one another now,We can leave the court, I can try.Lillette: Do you really mean that?Queen: You’ve had too much deathAnd no one to look after you.We can leave the courtAnd just visit for parties;I have some earrings you might like.Lillette: You have a lot to learn about me.Queen: So many funerals, so much was done,I, we have lost your father andThe King and Cerith, you are all that’s left.The future is a long time,I always thoughtI would make it up to you.Lillette: I don’t know what to say.Queen: Give your mother a hug.

[Lady Lillette woodenly gives Queen Scerilene a hug, and withdraws crying]

Lillette: I don’t know what to say.Queen: Wait

[Lady Lillette runs away]

Lillette: I don’t know what to say.

[Exit Lady Lillette, Paused Silence]

Queen: Alone I sit; I sit, alone.Can an old dog, learn new tricks.

[Fade out to a spot light on [Enter Edgar Demon]]

Demon: Yonder whistles time a-drifting

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Over never, a never lands day.So sits a wicked Queen,In a dungeon, what can it mean.Natures might and natures rightAre hidden from her sight,But a demon’s nearSo there’s all to fear, andThe old queen is in for a fright.At my Demon heels run serpents and eels,And their dinners almost in sight.Hear them slither and hissWith a deadly kiss; forTheir supper’s near, but will she fear,As they eat her piece by piece.My slimy supper guestsCan smell her rest, andWriggle off to do their best.

[Long freeze pause, then Screams (Queen Scerilene’s) – for a little longer than is necessary,then pause]

They’ll eat the bonesAnd lick the stones, andNo more Queen on earth no more.A Demon’s day’s work is doneAnd crawling creaturesHave filled their tums,

[Exit/fade out]

With blood and bonesAnd Queenly bums.

Act V Scene 6

Chorus: I will lead your sight my gentle folkIf you will honour me, to visions in the mindThat tell of tales from another fresher age.Before, see you, the bright sun dawn uponA near forgotten time, when the forested earthWas close as cragged and green as when born.See beauty o’er awes the senses as gentle golden lightCreeps through the hills and among the silver trees,We follow until we reach the Democracy andGuest house next to the historic castle monument,

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From whence this strange tale ends.

Chorus: Here Mister Florizel is happily servingEggs to the guests, look his lovely wifeIs keeping a fond eye on him, amusedAs a few of their kids rocket around the table;For they have special guests, and she alwaysWas better at dishing breakfast than him.Sitting, please you meet the Head of State,Peoples’ Servant Mildred, a lovely lady,And former herbalist, with her husbandEdgar, who is big in green recycling.Mildred and Edgar are doing well in office,They have recently won their fourth termWith votes, peace, prosperity, and hope.Next to her is Sister Lillette,A nun, and the head of the combined religions,The architect of the new reformation.Lillette and Mildred are in good spirits,Cheerful with world peace.Then, of course, there are those who are not there.There is myself, but let us not forgetThe ghosts we left behind, Duke Cerith,Queen Scerilene, and some old regal guy,Hanging out. So that the way it happened,That’s history.

[The End]

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