And here it is....Shemot, the play! (well, part of it anyway)
Comments welcome.
Shemot
Shemot (narrator): One day; elaps�d through the sins of man founds anew the very fundamental changes that doth shape even the most hardened of minds. For �twas upon that eve the mind I harboured was of little strength to sustain. The day th� blades swung like the fields that fell before eyes of such a meek a youth; the day my liege bestowed upon my feeble frame all that would become my ever regretted truth.
All I knew; wafted away like the scent of summer flowers, in the bitter smoke that paraded my tears. The flames but fed my heartfelt cries; as sun faded through hillocks, the summer serenade 'twas no more. Never more. And wherefore? The madness of a man torn asunder by his own draconic fervour? So it began, as had never before. As the sweet scent o� seed ferried upon the smouldering winds, my fate did through all time. I shall never forget the blood.
Act 1 Scene 1
The scene is set atop the castle of Warent. The old Duke Shemot is held captive, tortured by
Mwegstif, Jaustan�s valet. The scene begins with the characters assembled.
Old Shemot: Jaustan! Let me be, I say!
Mwegstif: Silence! Be ye of traitor still? Ye have nothing to be mouth-worthy of!
Jaustan: (Feigning deafness) What was that? He wants to admire the freemasonry on the gabions?
*Mweg tortures Old Shemot further*
Old Shemot: Gah! Demon! You have hell 'pon your back. And back, I say! Back to th' fields with ye! I have neither will nor want to see ye take my title!
Jaustan: What was that you have on your back? Mweg, see to this man�s discomfort�
*Mweg releases Old Shemot briefly, and cuts through the back of Old Shemot�s*
Old Shemot: Brigand! If my life must end; be it so now! Though I will ne'er waver in my thoughts, nor falter as the single stone would endeavour to stand. So proud be my morals; the very etch o' your blade could ne'er scrape, scratch nor scupper my very will!
Jaustan: Such words, old man. Mayhap the blade is not the tool. I must confess, I have always had a high regard for the pernicious qualities of fire.
*Jaustan moves over to the old man*
Would you not agree?
*Enter Old Shemot's Wife and Child*
Wife: Lor' no! Devil! How could ye take my husband's very dignity? Be ye so soul-sapped your blunt-nature could ne'er shine through therein?
Old Shemot: You coward! Have you not the constitution to keep a quarry?
Jaustan: (With sarcasm) Well, company hath found our dwell, my dear Mweg. Leave the poor soul alone.
Old Shemot: *Runs over to his family* Sir, I say! Leave them be! I guarded with my heart; my very soul, my blood. Yet our King must have what he deems necessary!
Jaustan: And what I deem worthy of such vermin!
Child: Father! My father is no vermin! Sir, pray, leave him be!
Jaustan: Observe, old man. No child enjoys watching all he has go up in flames�
Old Shemot: Be your chiding over Warent Fay? For 'twas the King's will! Bitterness 'tis betweeth our very foundings. The seeping of deep, underlying desperation fuels our natures; the King is to blame! Not I! Nor my gentle wife, nor youngling!
Jaustan: *Slaps Old Shemot* Then sign, I say! Give me your Duchy, and we need hear no more of it!
Old Shemot: Sign. Hah! Sign, ye say? Sign my very life away? Live to see no more? I would declare a lesser life to be signed were it of cowardice; for now, and now alone, it is but my own will, scorched as the fields once were many nights afore. I have nothing more of greed, solace of my highest confide. I kneel here as one shattered shard, yet of some certain slice; my bite with bitterness of poison yet. Oh, what poison! My land doth lie out as one burned bastion. Emptied of all hope, regard. Noted valour. And what of the plague? Pasted, powdered, cursed tincture; hath drained all sustenance from the very core of all understanding, or rather, the very devilish cure to all good health. I fear, yet lapse, and within my worries must I sign such parchments? Sickly, sealed with tallow, sealed lips my never speak o� this as wax�d parchments often forbid�
For the fair nature I sign; and Lor�, may a clear future shine from such old, flames, yet a smoulder o� good natures smoulder still. Hence; ye be Shemot�s Duke. For better, for worse�
Jaustan: For silence!
*Old Shemot signs*
Old Shemot: Pray, leave me be! O sorry life...
Mwegstif: Sir; 'tis 'complished. We have no need for this leathered scoundrel.
Old Shemot: leathered!? I shall show you leathered! 'tis not for me the table as a prize feast, I'll show you that there still beats a heart in this carcass!
*Makes to punch Jaustan *
Jaustan: He hath life? O, why, in truth 'tis all ye deserve such names! Why, must I take such petty swipes? Hah!
*Slays Old Shemot*
Mwegstif: And what of this fine phoenix that stands so beauteous in the path of demise? I wouldn't half fancy giving her a goose!
Jaustan: Goose? Why, Mweg, geese flock here! Take thine fill!
Shemot's child: You shall not harm us villain!
*Rushes at Mweg*
Jaustan: Ho? A gosling? Why, woman, see that� it is ugly? For what use is an abomination of a bird? For what I hath seen; you shall see equal hardship. Render the child, Mweg.
*Mweg grabs the child*
Mwegstif: Aye! Shall I pluck out his feathers, or smash the beak? Should I chase him down with a dog, or loose an arrow? Or should I just�
*Slits the child�s throat*
Wife: (Shaking with shock) L�Lord in heaven have mercy! Devils! Devils be damned, my husband and child taken!
*She weeps uncontrollably*
Jaustan: And why must we lament the lost with such a violent stream? 'tis not for the future that we weep, but for the past's memorial gleam. Do I not speak right? Why should we continue to draw a wound after the blade has passed? Why should we not just forget the devils that came last?
Mwegstif: (With serious tone) Sirrah; methinks enough hath been executed for now.
Jaustan: Indeed, �tis a bloodied sabre that I lay down this eve...And on a note; can we trust this woman to keep her parsletongue? �twould scarce do find us a rotten rope around our necks.
Mwegstif: Sirrah; methinks ye should depart. Sooner be best.
Jaustan: Aye. But leave you the child o' th' woman's arms. For me, the court! Let them fall to the new Shemot's charms!
*Exit Jaustan*
Mwegstif: Lady, take thy leave. For quality o� rope be frayed at both ends.
*She hastily obeys, exit Wife*
Mwegstif: O, tender faced gosling� for what aim?
My Lord commanded such;
I cannot contrive less grief, nor ignore little proclaim
For some sweet, savour I sicken my say �
The mastery o� education you shall never see much,
Th� last lesson heeded �twas the only to be taught.
Ah, frail Jaustan; for so close he were to thee.
To think, but for a flicker in the night,
Were we a single cold hearth worse;
Mayhap a duet of laughter could prevail
Hysterical, surely, certain of nought -
In the stead of this symphonic wail.
My resolve from darkness� light.
I heard thee roll from steel, shout thine cry;
My eternal haunt, it and ye shall never die.
*Exit Mwegstif*
Comments welcome.
Shemot
Shemot (narrator): One day; elaps�d through the sins of man founds anew the very fundamental changes that doth shape even the most hardened of minds. For �twas upon that eve the mind I harboured was of little strength to sustain. The day th� blades swung like the fields that fell before eyes of such a meek a youth; the day my liege bestowed upon my feeble frame all that would become my ever regretted truth.
All I knew; wafted away like the scent of summer flowers, in the bitter smoke that paraded my tears. The flames but fed my heartfelt cries; as sun faded through hillocks, the summer serenade 'twas no more. Never more. And wherefore? The madness of a man torn asunder by his own draconic fervour? So it began, as had never before. As the sweet scent o� seed ferried upon the smouldering winds, my fate did through all time. I shall never forget the blood.
Act 1 Scene 1
The scene is set atop the castle of Warent. The old Duke Shemot is held captive, tortured by
Mwegstif, Jaustan�s valet. The scene begins with the characters assembled.
Old Shemot: Jaustan! Let me be, I say!
Mwegstif: Silence! Be ye of traitor still? Ye have nothing to be mouth-worthy of!
Jaustan: (Feigning deafness) What was that? He wants to admire the freemasonry on the gabions?
*Mweg tortures Old Shemot further*
Old Shemot: Gah! Demon! You have hell 'pon your back. And back, I say! Back to th' fields with ye! I have neither will nor want to see ye take my title!
Jaustan: What was that you have on your back? Mweg, see to this man�s discomfort�
*Mweg releases Old Shemot briefly, and cuts through the back of Old Shemot�s*
Old Shemot: Brigand! If my life must end; be it so now! Though I will ne'er waver in my thoughts, nor falter as the single stone would endeavour to stand. So proud be my morals; the very etch o' your blade could ne'er scrape, scratch nor scupper my very will!
Jaustan: Such words, old man. Mayhap the blade is not the tool. I must confess, I have always had a high regard for the pernicious qualities of fire.
*Jaustan moves over to the old man*
Would you not agree?
*Enter Old Shemot's Wife and Child*
Wife: Lor' no! Devil! How could ye take my husband's very dignity? Be ye so soul-sapped your blunt-nature could ne'er shine through therein?
Old Shemot: You coward! Have you not the constitution to keep a quarry?
Jaustan: (With sarcasm) Well, company hath found our dwell, my dear Mweg. Leave the poor soul alone.
Old Shemot: *Runs over to his family* Sir, I say! Leave them be! I guarded with my heart; my very soul, my blood. Yet our King must have what he deems necessary!
Jaustan: And what I deem worthy of such vermin!
Child: Father! My father is no vermin! Sir, pray, leave him be!
Jaustan: Observe, old man. No child enjoys watching all he has go up in flames�
Old Shemot: Be your chiding over Warent Fay? For 'twas the King's will! Bitterness 'tis betweeth our very foundings. The seeping of deep, underlying desperation fuels our natures; the King is to blame! Not I! Nor my gentle wife, nor youngling!
Jaustan: *Slaps Old Shemot* Then sign, I say! Give me your Duchy, and we need hear no more of it!
Old Shemot: Sign. Hah! Sign, ye say? Sign my very life away? Live to see no more? I would declare a lesser life to be signed were it of cowardice; for now, and now alone, it is but my own will, scorched as the fields once were many nights afore. I have nothing more of greed, solace of my highest confide. I kneel here as one shattered shard, yet of some certain slice; my bite with bitterness of poison yet. Oh, what poison! My land doth lie out as one burned bastion. Emptied of all hope, regard. Noted valour. And what of the plague? Pasted, powdered, cursed tincture; hath drained all sustenance from the very core of all understanding, or rather, the very devilish cure to all good health. I fear, yet lapse, and within my worries must I sign such parchments? Sickly, sealed with tallow, sealed lips my never speak o� this as wax�d parchments often forbid�
For the fair nature I sign; and Lor�, may a clear future shine from such old, flames, yet a smoulder o� good natures smoulder still. Hence; ye be Shemot�s Duke. For better, for worse�
Jaustan: For silence!
*Old Shemot signs*
Old Shemot: Pray, leave me be! O sorry life...
Mwegstif: Sir; 'tis 'complished. We have no need for this leathered scoundrel.
Old Shemot: leathered!? I shall show you leathered! 'tis not for me the table as a prize feast, I'll show you that there still beats a heart in this carcass!
*Makes to punch Jaustan *
Jaustan: He hath life? O, why, in truth 'tis all ye deserve such names! Why, must I take such petty swipes? Hah!
*Slays Old Shemot*
Mwegstif: And what of this fine phoenix that stands so beauteous in the path of demise? I wouldn't half fancy giving her a goose!
Jaustan: Goose? Why, Mweg, geese flock here! Take thine fill!
Shemot's child: You shall not harm us villain!
*Rushes at Mweg*
Jaustan: Ho? A gosling? Why, woman, see that� it is ugly? For what use is an abomination of a bird? For what I hath seen; you shall see equal hardship. Render the child, Mweg.
*Mweg grabs the child*
Mwegstif: Aye! Shall I pluck out his feathers, or smash the beak? Should I chase him down with a dog, or loose an arrow? Or should I just�
*Slits the child�s throat*
Wife: (Shaking with shock) L�Lord in heaven have mercy! Devils! Devils be damned, my husband and child taken!
*She weeps uncontrollably*
Jaustan: And why must we lament the lost with such a violent stream? 'tis not for the future that we weep, but for the past's memorial gleam. Do I not speak right? Why should we continue to draw a wound after the blade has passed? Why should we not just forget the devils that came last?
Mwegstif: (With serious tone) Sirrah; methinks enough hath been executed for now.
Jaustan: Indeed, �tis a bloodied sabre that I lay down this eve...And on a note; can we trust this woman to keep her parsletongue? �twould scarce do find us a rotten rope around our necks.
Mwegstif: Sirrah; methinks ye should depart. Sooner be best.
Jaustan: Aye. But leave you the child o' th' woman's arms. For me, the court! Let them fall to the new Shemot's charms!
*Exit Jaustan*
Mwegstif: Lady, take thy leave. For quality o� rope be frayed at both ends.
*She hastily obeys, exit Wife*
Mwegstif: O, tender faced gosling� for what aim?
My Lord commanded such;
I cannot contrive less grief, nor ignore little proclaim
For some sweet, savour I sicken my say �
The mastery o� education you shall never see much,
Th� last lesson heeded �twas the only to be taught.
Ah, frail Jaustan; for so close he were to thee.
To think, but for a flicker in the night,
Were we a single cold hearth worse;
Mayhap a duet of laughter could prevail
Hysterical, surely, certain of nought -
In the stead of this symphonic wail.
My resolve from darkness� light.
I heard thee roll from steel, shout thine cry;
My eternal haunt, it and ye shall never die.
*Exit Mwegstif*
