NEW MODELS
A GEORGE AND DRAGON
George: Unlovely come I here, some knight
That would with monsterdom fight.
St George am I & by my life
I know well warfare and strife.
My strength I will not brag on,
But I will prove it on the dragon.
Squire: Master, be warned! Not far from here,
A monster grim must appear.
Fearing no God he stalks abroad,
Son of murder and discord.
Blood his drink & humankind
His food, destroying all he finds.
George: By the chords of my chest,
I will show him I am best.
By the ropes of my arms,
I will do him harm.
By the rims of my fist,
He shall meet and kiss defeat.
Squire: Sire, he comes! Black his foot,
Black his back as blackest soot.
Greed & horror stoke his heart,
Fire forms in his jaws apart.
Like trees his horns, like cliffs his scales,
With painful aim he sways his tail.
George: Stand not so near; guard yourself.
I will fight him by myself.
Note, dragon, where I stand -
Dragon: AAARGH!
George: See, I come, sword in hand -
Dragon: AAAARGH!
George: Dragon, see my helm on head -
Dragon: AAAAARGH!
George: Dragon, I will strike you dead!
Dragon: AAAAAARGH!
[They fight, evenly; eventually, Dragon's tail knocks sword from George's hand; while he recovers, Dragon circles, threatening the audience, like an unpopular wrestler]
Squire: Take your sword! Take up your sword!
Be careful now, my lord!
Keep from his snapping jaws,
Keep from his slashing claws!
George: Aye, and I mark his stinging tail.
Go, leave me; I shall not fail.
[Fight resumes; Dragon is killed]
Dragon: AAARGH...
George: Dragon, so die,
And there lie!
I, George, am victor,
Only winner!
No more shall you take your toll
On this land & its people.
Squire: Sire, this battle will be famous today
For ever and always.
Rest you here my lord,
Sheathe your sword.
I will go a doctor find,
Your wounds to bind.
George: Go then.
I am faint again.
I am weary and tired
Of the dragon's fire.
The fight was steep,
I would sleep.
Doctor: What do you want of me? To treat a dragon? I know nothing of dragons! [To audience:] Do you? How do you cure a dragon? Where do I take its pulse? Where do I stick my thermometer? Where's its heart? No, he is quite beyond my art. The dragon is dead. Drag him off. Goodbye. Oh? you wish me to examine the knight? He is badly injured too, he has been quite seriously dented. Perhaps he needs a welder. Is there a welder here? [George groans in horror, crawls away & hides behind his squire] Never mind. His commotion seems to be in order after all. But he is speechless, indeed faceless and facultyless. And altogether legless. Could it be a case of too much drink? Or too little? It's impossible to tell, unless - [Someone supplies a drink; George is restored to his feet.]
All: Gentle audience, all is well,
George has recovered but the Dragon fell.
Let all the simple lesson learn,
Metal may dent, but will not burn.
Magnitude is no protection
Against eventual correction.
Keep animals with four feet,
For their own sakes, off the street.
If you must be cross and quaint,
Do not meddle with a saint!
And to fend off unknown dangers,
Always share a drink with strangers.
KING TARQUIN OR, THE SHIP OF ROME
Sons of Tarquin: [in unison:]
Tarquin, my father, has taken Rome.
The greatest of the cities of Italy
Lies in his control, its wealth is his.
Long have we fought from Caere to Civitavecchia
To win this prize. Now Rome is ours.
How, father, will you hold it safe,
What will you make of it, now?
Tarquin Rex:
Mi filii, Sons, listen to my thanks.
All the Tuscan nation supports you.
Rome has always had a King;
Now that Kingship has passed to me.
Justly, by
lnteriority, & by victory,
I claim the right to rule Rome.
In this there must be certainty.
A nation can only have one King,
As a ship can only have one Captain.
In my authority I shall rule Rome,
And we shall prosper thru it
Sons of Tarquin:
Sir, much remains to be done. T
he citadel is taken, true,
But many men hold out in arms.
How shall we treat them?
How shall we stop them banding together again?
Tarquin:
My sons, listen to this.
here is a poppy in the ground.
Surely it will spread.
but watch -
If I strike the flowerhed off,
before the seeds come,
How will it Now multiply?
Sons of Tarquin:
We see.
We will strike down their leaders now.
What is a people without a leader?
They will fall before our swords
Like a red harvest of poppies.
This we have learned.
Scene Two, Rome.
[All speeches overlap slightly, at points of alliteration]
Consuls (1): Tarquin, tyrant, again advances
against Rome.
(2) Rome is threatened.
Senate [speaking individually]:
Let us man the bridges.
Let us barricade the streets.
Stop the way to the Citadel.
I will send to the gates.
I will guard the temples.
Let us take no more of this foreign tyrant!
Consuls:
Certainly he seeks our lives.
What living is there under a tyrant?
Senate: We are resolved on this.
There is no other course.
No King is wanted here.
Hand out the weapons.
War will defend our city this time!
Consuls: Finely said. Said well.
Best we take them at the Tiber. The
Tiber is now our best line of defense.
Defend it, and we will be safe.
Save it not, and they will pick us off,
one by one, like Poppyheads. Heed us
well, & organise!
Senate: I will raise the men of the Pontine.
Perhaps even the Trastavere will join us.
Justly we may call our sons together.
Get the arsenal broken out.
Open the doors of Janus' shrine.
Show us the exact plan of muster.
We march!
Scene three, outside Rome
Sons of Tarquin:
They have had word of our purpose.
The bridges are all manned.
Look, they pull them down.
We cannot hope to take one bridge, even against small troops.
Father, we cannot proceed.
Tarquin:
This is a rebellion they will rue.
They act well together,
But had we split their leaders off,
What would they have been? a mob.
Find me a Roman, if you can.
Bring me one here.
Sons of Tarquin:
A messenger is coming.
Here is your single Roman, father.
Mucius: Greetings, proud King!
We men of Rome bid you retire.
Tarquin: We? What rabble is that?
Who is your qeneral? Where is your chief-of-arms?
Mucius: We do not heed such titles, or such commands.
We are so strong together you cannot beat us.
Tarquin: Togetherness is nothing.
Strike off the poppy-head, and the mob
Runs away like waste water.
Mucius: So perhaps with you.
We are determined singly and wholly.
Let me convince you.
Sons: He has thrust his hand into the flame
How long can he hold it there?
Father, what sort of man is this?
Tarquin:
Desist! Withdraw your hand.
I recognise your singleness of purpose.
I see your unity in the armies before me.
I will withdraw from Rome.
If they will have no King, let them dwell in idleness.
If they will not be subject to me, at least they can be no threat to me.
My sons, let us leave this stubborn people alone. Come!
Scene Four, Rome
Mucius:
Consuls, Senators,
Though I will always be left-handed,
Tarquin has recognised our courage,
His army will retire from Rome.
Now let my single voice be heard no more.
Consuls:
This is well done.
You have done well by your city.
Senate:
Sirs, what of us now?
No more kings, we resolve.
Safe from kings let us live.
Leave single rulers alone.
Consuls:
There are many risks in kingship.
Kings are too powerfull alone.
A ship may have a single Captain.
But a Captain cannot man a whole ship.
Senate:
Let us keep our two consuls.
Consider how they may best serve us.
The office shall only last for 1 year.
Yearly they must be elected.
Leaders like that cannot tyrannise the city.
Safely Rome will look forwards.
Forming her policy in consensus.
Seeking out new ideas in debate.
Basing her law on constitution.
Carrying out its government in Justice!
Consuls:
We have seen what unchecked power leads to.
Let us have no more of that.
We will share our duties in common.
Common sense will lead us through.
Relying on its citizens, there will be no greater city than Rome.
Rome has sent the wolf away, let us rejoice in the victory!
And Lucretia, come here, be reconciled.
Come to us, Lucretia, be our wife.
Senate [as round, till all voices join together]:
Our STATE
and CITY
are SAFE.
Let us SALUTE
the CITIZENS
and SENATE
of SWEET ROME!
HODGSON'S HOUSE
(after Wm Hope Hodgson's short story 'The Searcher of the End House', published 1913.)
Robert: When I was young
that is, somewhat younger than I am today,
my Mother and myself
had taken a brick, terraced house,
something in the style of a cottage,
in Sussex.
[Enter Mother, kisses R. lightly, exits]
Here we are, my Mother
has ascended to her bedroom,
I am working rather late
(I hadn't then
started the work on mystical manuscripts
I have advanced so well in since -
I was a bare beginner in paranormal matters);
So I was sitting alone
at my desk, when a rap or knock
comes from the top of the stairs...
[Sound effect]
"Yes! I'll be up soon" -
(Thinking it a reminder of my late hours),
but the knocking sound continues.
I look up at the landing
but I can see there is no one there.
[Moves to one side]
I check by opening my Mother's door -
"Mother?" -
She is quite asleep.
There is perhaps a sense of a draught,
A smell, a decaying smell, at the door,
I had never encountered before,
A puzzle,
but nothing perhaps so extraordinary.
I mentioned it briefly the next day -
I asked my Mother
If she had rapped to remind me of the time,
But no, no such thing.
I supposed it the passage of a rat
or somesuch.
Yet the next evening, it was very much the same,
And very much louder too -
The door banged
[Wham!]
Mother: [offstage] Robert, is that you?
Robert: Mother, I'm down here.
Mother: [entering] But my bedroom door -
Did you hear it slam?
Robert: Did you see anyone?
Mother: You think it might be a burglar?
Robert: I had better check.
There is nothing in your room...
Or mine...
I would have seen someone on the stairs,
But I had better check
Down here too.
Mother: Then I will come with you.
I will feel better
If I find out what it is,
And you can take the poker
And I the tongs.
Robert: But there was no one in the pantry
Or the cupboard-holes,
Only the same smell, as of a rot,
By the head of the cellar steps.
Mother: Robert, what is it? That smell...
Robert: There is no one in the cellar,
I don't know.
Mother: It is very disturbing.
Robert: And this is the 2nd night.
Mother: You heard it last night?
Robert: Much the same, the smell
Not so loud, more the sound.
Mother: Will we be safe?
Robert: We will see if you cannot
Stay with some friends
for a week say,
I will get the landlord
To sort it out,
Maybe it is the drains or sewers
Or some attempt at mischief -
Whatever it is,
It can be sorted out,
But if there is some risk -
Mother: Then it cannot be safe for you.
Robert: But we have a policeman
Living next door -
I will call him in if I need to.
[Exit Mother]
But I couldn't be entirely certain,
Even then, that it was not something
Much stranger than I made out.
The landlord, too, seemed uneasy.
[Enter Landlord]
Land: No, it will not be the plumbing -
Robert: He said...
Land: - We had that relaid
for the last tenant.-
some five years he was here
without any trouble.
Robert: And he left - ?
Land: Some personal problem, I think;
he was a retired seaman,
prone to risky enterprises.
Robert: No treasure he hid?
No secrets to attract an intruder?
Land: I am certain there could not be
But tonight I will keep
Watch with you, set your mind at rest.
Robert: I value your co-operation.
Both nights,
I was working here late,
I can see the stairs and landing though:
The noises came from up there.
Land: Perhaps we should watch
on the landing.
Robert: My idea too.
I have a torch if we need it.
I think it would be better
to turn out the gas.
Land: And if we surprise an intruder?
Robert: Well, I have a truncheon
from our friend next door.
Besides, there is two of us.
Land: True.
I am not really nervous.
Robert: There is nothing else you can tell me
About the house?
Land: Well... nothing substantial,
though parts of it are quite old.
It would be better to wait and see.
I don't know quite what to make of it.
Robert: I had supplied
some sandwiches and beer,
if it proved a long vigil.
Certainly the first hour
was very slow and soft,
exactly still and preciously dark,
But I knew we were both
very much awake,
there was a concentration, an expectation,
I could feel both of us aware and awake
Though we did not talk....
And in a while
though there was no knock or sound,
I seemed to feel the darkness setting deeper around us,
A perfect wall of dark
that transcended the wooden scene;
there was no way of distinguishing
space or distance or time,
and yet the darkness seemed to concentrate,
to form into something of superblackness,
a sort of sub-visual colour,
a limning or shape of violet,
an aura of more-than-light or less-than-light
moving towards us,
But my companion seemed to notice nothing.
What I thought I saw
was the shape of a child,
(Such a young one!)
peeping and darting near,
neither cheerful nor anxious,
but very serious,
as though looking for somewhere to hide,
but entirely oblivious of me,
looking backward more,
as though in expectation
of someone following,
and solely intent on evasion,
hiding now a moment
behind something totally incorporeal to me,
then thinking better of it, selecting something
nearer (from where I sat)
and so moving up
(without ever any sense of our presence)
till it passed near us,
ceased to be viewable, as it seemed,
because I was fixed and aside.
Then I heard my partner tense,
a shift,
an exclamation almost -
Land: Ah!
Robert: As though he could see something
Too, but not my child, I think;
This time
I could make nothing out,
but a continued tension
in the blackness,
But nothing ocular this time,
(To me) -
though I felt increasing terror in
the man next to me.
Land: Did you see it?
Robert: See?
Land: There.
Robert: Can you see something?
Land: Now - a woman - oh surely you - ?
Robert: No. I don't - not now.
Land: Oh my God!
Robert: I turned on the torch.
There was too much terror for him.
I wanted to dispell it.
When the light showed
the empty landing
I said again, "What was it?"
Land: It was a woman, - an old woman?
A woman, I am sure,
but searching, looking for someone,
It was awfully serious.
Robert: Looking for what?
Could you see what she hunted?
Land: Hunted?
I am not sure it was that.
It was very intent, though.
She had no sense of my being here.
Robert: Though it seems it was she
Who wasn't here.
Land: You didn't see her?
Robert: No, I felt something....
Land: I had heard...
But that was a long time ago -
some story of seeing a woman,
here, like that -
I never credited it.
Robert: The seaman, the tenant before us,
never complained?
Land: No, he never saw a thing.
It was before that, a long time.
Robert: Then, though the air had seemed to clear,
There came a crash.
My torch failed and fell from my hand.
Something new,
quite different, had started.
[prolonged drumming, etc]
Land: What is it? what is all this?
Robert: It's downstairs.
All the doors are slamming.
Land: It's awful.
I never suspected
anything like...
Robert: Come on.
We must investigate.
[Enter Policeman, as noise dies down]
Pol: What's happening?
Are you all right?
Robert: Sergeant!
Over here!
Yes, we're both alright.
Will you wait till I've set the gas?
I take it you heard all that?
Pol: It fairly alarmed me too.
Robert: Someone or something
was banging these doors
to and fro.
You didn't see anyone?
Pol: No one at the front.
Do you think there's an intruder
still in here?
Robert: We'll soon see.
Pol: There's footprints anyway.
Land: Well now, is that what you call them?
Robert: In several places round the floor,
there were damp patches,
rather like a foot in shape,
but large, slack shapes
as though of some
spread or decaying fleshy stump.
Pol: Leading to the cellar.
Land: And the smell!
Robert: We ve had that, two nights now.
Pol: Will you lend me the torch?
[opens cellar door]
Robert: Well?
Pol: There's nothing or no one here.
A few footprints leading on.
Come and see.
Robert: It looks as if they
centre on the well.
Land: It's only a shallow well,
an old feature of the cellar,
how could anything
come from that?
Pol: It certainly doesn't make sense.
None of it.
It's a nasty episode.
Robert: I think we'll need a whisky.
Sergeant, will you light the stairs for us.
Pol: Aye.
Careful, sir.
There's something - can I? - oh Mary!
It's a maggot.
Robert: A white maggot on the steps.
Land: I want a whisky very much.
I do not want to think
of worms and where they come from
and all those smelling yards.
I owe you
very much an apology:
As I said, years back,
we had one tenant
was alarmed at the house,
talked of seeing a woman
just as I saw her.
Pol: You saw what?
Land: A woman. On the landing.
But, sergeant,
it was more a shape, a phantom.
Pol: Did you see this too?
Robert: No...
not a woman.
But I think he genuinely did.
There was an aura -
of something very special and strange.
Yet it wasn't like,
wasn't of a type with
the violence you just heard.
Pol: I don't incline to spectres
with right arms strong enough
to slam a door and another & another.
What do you say?
Robert: Yes,
it is hard to believe there isn't
some human trickery.
Pol: Well, whatever it is
seems over for the night.
I say we don't shout this about,
but, gentlemen, if you're willing,
I'll join you tommorrow,
and we'll set watch again.
Robert: Will you both?
I'm enormously grateful.
Land: I think I must,
After what I've seen and heard,
Even after that.
We must clear this up,
if you think...
Pol: - we can?
It'll be a bold phantom
to chance slipping past me.
I suggest
we set our watch in the cellar, though.
Robert: And so we did.
I couldn't deny what I had seen.
It was something undoubtedly supernatural,
a strange dance or procession of two linked figures.
I had seen only a child, a tiny figure,
hiding or eluding, and my landlord after me
had seen not the child
but the form of a woman, as though in pursuit, -
This second figure though
was hidden from me.
I had no hope we could catch
anything of that sort.
But perhaps there was something else
also at work
and I took my precautions.
Pol: You've been busy.
What is it, sir?
Robert: It's more what it will do.
Will you help me set it
over the well.
Pol: Ah, a sort of trap.
Robert: It's a simple bell-cage.
I pressed the wiresmith
to get it ready today.
If we hang it here
we can drop it on
anyone trying to use the well
as an entrance.
Pol: Do you think they can?
Robert: Someone's getting in somehow.
It's where the footprints came from, anyhow.
Land: And if we catch it?
Robert: If we can catch it,
we can deal with it too.
How do you feel,
after last night?
Land: Apprehensive,
but I want also
to know what it is; clear it up,
if we can.
Robert: I think that's all our preparations.
Sergeant, will you take the lantern
and cover it up?
Our only chance, I think,
is to wait very quietly, and in the dark.
Pol: Aye, sir. And dark it is here,
in these old places.
Robert: We did not have so long to wait that night.
Within perhaps an hour,
I felt again that almost strange
Humming of light,
a deeper darkness, appearing
as a tiny, tiny, glowing seep of violet,
near one wall.
It was the shape of a child,
as before,
an infant, infinitesimally wary.
But quite unaware of us.
And, I thought, visible only to me.
It stole lightly and soundlessly
over the floor,
pausing behind projections quite absent to my eye,
or changing and crouching down
as under some shelf of another dimension,
in a game I could only guess at.
It didn't seem disturbed or frightened,
nor could I make out that it
was playing or laughing,
but only it seemed very intent.
And I turned my eyes
to see if there was anything else,
and warned my friends with a gesture,
but already I sensed their tenseness,
a sort of unbelieving gape
of the policeman,
as they watched something else
across the room,
but something quite indiscernable
to me
though I gazed and gazed.
Land: Don't you see it?
Pol: I, I....
Robert: What is it?
Land: Why, the woman, of course -
Pol: -is this...?
[in the next passage they speak together]
Land: There!
Pol: What is it?
Land: It seems like
Pol: Is it some sort
Land: A woman,
Pol: Of old hag,
Land: Careful and anxious
Pol: Hatred and ill-heart
Land: worried
Pol: heavy on hurting,
Land: Oh very worried
Pol: Out in its
Land: As though she's
Pol: Hunt for something.
Land: Lost something.
Pol: Can you see it?
Robert: Is it still there?
Land: Fading...
no, it's gone,
Pol: I'd never believe it. What - ?
Robert: Wait.
Pol: Do you want the lantern up?
Robert: Shhh - I can hear something else.
Be ready. -
The others dIdn't fail me.
They, too, heard it,
in the water of the well.
Nothing more than a disturbance
In the tiny round of water
Then a great eruption of sound
as something plunged up
out of the surface
And I shouted out to them,
"Sergeant!"
Pol: Aye! I ve got it.
Robert: Cut the rope!
Land: Look out!
Robert: Lights up!
Land: There, in the cage!
Pol: Who in tarnation - ?
Robert: Before us, was a cussing
spluttering old man,
every inch the drowned mortal,
waving a disgusting
smelly joint of rotting meat
in his hand, and almost as surprised as we were.
Pol: Get him out then.
["enter" the Captain]
Land: Captain! I know him!
Why this is the tenant before you.
What on earth are you doing?
Cap: Getting bloody wet
and
losing my temper.
Land: Is that all you can say?
Cap: I haven't had time
to think of anything polite yet.
Pol: Is it you
pretending to haunt these folk?
Cap: Well, I've been caught haven't I?
I might as well
throw this disgusting lump of meat
away now.
You're a bright lot,
hurting an old human like that.
Land: What on earth have you been up to?
Robert: Making smells
and banging doors
and leaving prints with woolly socks,
I'd say.
Pol: But why?
Cap: Well, and I wanted my home back.
After that last brush with the law,
more than ever,
I needed the hidey-places in this house.
The well leads out, you know,
to the stream in the garden,
toward the cemetery
(that gave me the idea, you see)
and there's a passage up to the landing too
- It's the easiest place to haunt in the world!
Pol: And you an old man.
Why, you ve not the sense of a schoolkid!
Robert: What's behind it though?
Pol: Why, the whisky he used to get,
smuggled it was,
he'd keep it here.
We've had him in court before.
Land: But not this time, eh?
Think of Mr Hodgson here,
and the house. The name of the house.
Pol: Maybe when I'm over the shock
I won't be so hard on him.
Cap: It's not the sort of trick
I can pull twice, is it?
Pol: Oh go and get dry.
Are you satisfied with this, sir?
Robert: Me? Yes, I m more than happy
But that other thing...
Did you really see...?
Pol: See a shape?
Well, I don't know, sir.
I thought there was something, but...
Land: I'll put it down, too,
to imagination. What else
would you say it was?
I mean, the real culprit's clear.
Robert: And maybe it did end like that.
I never told them what I saw.
But, gradually, I had my ideas about it.
As I learned a little more of things.
I read, that at a time of birth
When the soul comes to the child,
and makes it living,
that the Mother starts a search,
Her soul seeking to find the child's soul,
And unite it with the body
to give birth.
It is an old tale;
maybe the childish soul is ready to be met,
maybe it is skittish
and wants to play a little longer,
pausing in its commitment to earth
for some happy moments.
Perhaps that is what I saw.
It was certainly a pursuit
of some kind.
Or more an interception?
Some say there are malevolent beings,
hags and demon-kind in wait
whose part it is to intercept the soul
so it never reaches the Mother
or its own body-in-wait
and then the child is stillborn,
for a certainty.
But I never saw the woman.
I have no way of knowing
whether it was the Mother,
in her legitimate search,
or some more evil thing,
set on a track of capture & deprivation.
The figure of the child seemed earnest enough,
And so it would be,
in fun or in deadly flight.
Pol: Are you all finished, sir?
There's still a bit of whisky
stored behind your walls, we find.
It wouldn't be a bad idea
(stretching a point)
just to sample some
before we hand it in -
now this is all over.
Land: A sort of useful "spirit" I'm thinking.
Robert: Yes, our search
has turned out all right.
Count me in.
THE SEAL-HUNT
Note: the audience sit in the centre, as seals, surrounded by the action. Charun and Tuchulcha are Etruscan underworld figures, the former bearing a vulture's mask.
Prologue (Seal):
Oloi!
Oloi!
What is this?
Where will they go -
Wives, children, home?
That butcher Charun,
this must be his work,
or maybe Tuchulcha
set the sea-captains
on us,
while we thought
surely our poor ones
would be respected
under Pluto's protection,
but them,
they pretty-say this & that
about the Gods,
while they run about the seas
in slaughter,
pretending
it was never
what they meant to do.
They could not face up to us,
but this gift of death
stains the sea at our bellies,
stinks on the rock for ever.
Then they say,
let us remember the normal,
let us get back to real things,
But we will see
The colour of the rock still.
Now
listen!
Watch!
Captain: Boys, gently!
Boys, quietly!
Surely the seals must be here,
Just here somewhere.
Listen...
No that's a washing
Of the sea
On a rock, a rocky island,
Ain't it?
That's where they'll be.
Don't you let wood creak,
Keep her smooth, keep her steady
Under way.
Steersman: There!
Just there captain!
Capt: Rest oars, then.
This sea's so dark now
There's almost nothing but the sounds.
But it's there alright.
One, two guns apiece.
And quiet, quiet up there till they're ringed.
Why I can hear them breathing even.
Stealthy, and boys,
Round, right round,
But when we've made them sure,
Even then,
You hold fire now
Till I've sussed it out.
No rushing in if we've beached them here.
[They surround the seals, i.e. audience]
Steers: There's an awful lot
I think captain,
All of them d'you think?
Capt: Hmmm.
No, what I reckon this is,
Is all the cows, and look,
The little seals with them,
Almost Like a sort of refuge.
But the bulls ain't there.
Nothing that big,
And none of them, look, even up to making challenge,
And that'll do us as easy.
Steers: You reckon the bulls
All disappeared?
Capt: Or kept to sea.
It ain't like them to be away,
But I seen it before,
As though they thought
All the wives'll be safe here
With them maybe out there
Aiming to be trouble to us,
or swimming the other way.
But this'll do us fine,
Even better.
Steers: Why risk them great bulls
And fierce and fucking huge
Too, as we've lit on these.
Capt: Umhmmm.
Tell em to be ready there,
It's a cert.
Tuchulcha: Hoy and ahoy!
Steers: Captain,
that's Tuchulcha come too, look,
There's his boat next ours now.
Capt: Well, he'll enjoy this I dare say.
We can hang on.
[Pause till Tuchulcha comes up]
Tuch: What've you caught here then?
Capt: Well you know,
Tuchulcha;
Ain't this your island and your sea?
Tuch: Not exactly.
I've always called it yours,
And here I am lending a hand,
If you need it.
Capt: Well maybe we will.
It's all the cows and the calves too
Of that seal-herd.
Why, we sighted it early,
But it's awful dark now we've
Rounded them up at last.
Tuch: Yep, I can't see them
getting out of this one.
Well, maybe I ought to say
I can t advise all this,'
Not if Charun's going to hear,
sooner or later.
But it's no great matter either.
A chance like this
Takes some working up,
So it's good luck to you I say,
- You take it.
Capt: Well, we'd worked to this.
I take it kindly,
You not standing in our way.
Tuch: Now,
you get em.
Capt: Hear it, boys?
You fire! you fire! you fire!
[Intense & undisciplined firing onto the seals, then a pause]
Fire then! fire! keep at it! at it!
[Firing resumes, then pause again]
That must be big,
Why we must have caught
Some the biggest herd of the age, here!
Chukka, ain't you got them torches still?
Come on,
Don't let us lose them now,
Break 'em out, quick now
Give us the light to flush em out.
Hurry it.
Tuch: You men!
Make a light there!
C'mon, it's a ring we want, quickly,
Back up the guns there.
[Torches ring and back up gun-holders, who resume shooting]
Steers: That's it! Look!
Why, we'll get everyone, now,
Captain, won't we,
Every lit one.
Capt: You bet, Mr Rudder!
Keep it firing there!
Use the light you!
Finish it, go on!
[Firing gradually tails off, pause, then one last shot. All seals are prone and still]
Now there's a job we've done, eh?
Ain't that clean! Oh lads!
That's a legend.
Take a bit rest,
You lovely aims-men -
[to Steersman]
Call the other boats up, you,
For the skinning.
[To Tuchulcha]
That's it Tuchulcha -
Take thanks from me.
Why, seals ain't easy to group up, and
Them eating our fish in the sea,
But we'll make some use of them still
Like a sport that,
Won't we?
Tuch: Why, all I've done, don't forget,
Is sorta stood neutral.
Capt: Nay, That light's a million.
Would've lost half as many again,
If you'd not been by and helping.
Tuch: That's nothing.
Captain, I'd much the rather
If Charun didn't hear so much about me
Being in it, you know,
look on it as a favour,
And just don't mention it.
You'd better be quick, by the way.
Capt: Right-oh. Yes.
I forgot his hammer.
Oh what, Charun's hammer!
Get that skinning started!
Hurry it!
I mean, not everyone'll give us
So clear a hand
As Tuchulcha here.
Is the ship showing lights still?
Steers: Yes Captain.
She's still back there,
No more than the mile we made here.
She's keeping steady.
Capt: That's something to the good,
In this thick sea.
Steers: But there's more,
There's lights too
Tween us and her, Captain
There's someone else out and all.
Capt: Ain't it oue oqn boats setting back?
Steers: No, coming in.
See them?
Capt: Oh shit! If it ain't cowboys in on us
It'll be Charun sure.
Is everyone out and
Tabbing us, why now I mean?
Tuch: Why there were the shots, Captain.
They musta carried,
And the lights too,
It was a regular festival of it
It turned into.
Capt: Finish them hides up, load em!
Get em off, go on,
Take the boats back NOW
and go careful.
Charun: How and Ahoy!
Charun here!
What's this?
[Charun lands]
Capt: Just a spot of sealing, sir!
Nothing honest for you to rile about!
Charun: I'll say that, you bastard.
Didn't Tuchulcha stop you?
Capt: Not exactly, as you ask.
And what's so wrong now?
Charun: Look at them,
A whole tribe bloody slaughtered,
Isn't there?
And I'm the one trying to see
That Tuchulcha gets things right!
Tuch: So what?
Seals eat fish. Seals is bad news,
Who bloody cares about seals?
Charun: I do, you godless runt.
Why, every blasted hide is sacred to Pluto.
If I don t take my hammer now
To your skull
It's only putting it off.
Tuch: Come on, Charun!
Get it straight.
I mean, a chance like this.
Pluto himself wouldn t expect
The more of us, he couldn't, no,
No more than you could.
C'mon, give us your hand.
Charun: You stupid nurd! And you [to Captain]
Get off, go on, get off with the lot.
Tuchulcha'll be lucky
If his own hide don't pay for it.
All the seals were the luck of a God
And now there's nothing.
While there's work for my hammer,
No one touches me,
Nor no one likely touches Tuchulcha,
Yet you put every each one of us at risk,
That's what you did.
Capt: Yes,
If you say so.
Charun: You'll know it!
Capt: But -
Steers: Ready, sir!
Capt: OK. Forget it. I'm off.
[Last boat leaves]
Charun: Fuck seals!
What good is it to me
To watch the ocean?
I don't give a cuss
If it's night on top of the sea
And day underneath
And each hound I'll be hunting
Is every carcass the same workless policy.
Tuch: So it's all sorting out penny plays
Like cheap eyes, ain't it, us?
You had it started.
So you work it out - I ain't that bothered.
[Exit]
Charun: O Pluto, I ask you,
What does a massacre like this
Make us look like?
Me, I mean, me! How can I
Talk round this?
Oh Tuchulcha, all the God's orphans piled dead -
It's endless, endless!
Tuch: [from far away]
You hear?
You watch us get away with it!
THE THREE STRANGE KINGS
1K: This is the third floor.
Which door?
2K: It doesn't say.
They're all rather signless, aren't they?
3K: That's the problem with a tower-
block of offices. I think it's this one. Yes. I can smell the power.
*
E: Gentlemen? ... Oh yes, of course. Let me see.
You must be the
visitors from... Eastern Europe.
I hope
you're finding your visit to our metropolitan area
productive. Now I have your
names here somewhere.... You're....
1K: Melchior.
2K: Balthazar.
3K: Kaspar.
E: Of course. Welcome to our city.
I'm the Chief Executive of the Council. We'll be happy
to help you any way we can. Though I'm not entirely sure....
1K: A fact-finding tour.
2K: To help us in the East.
3K: Cultural and commercial data, possible trade increase.
E: Well, we've lots of brochures,
factual and informational and development reports in colour.
Help yourselves, do.
1K: Thankyou.
2K: And
3K: While you're on hand
1K: It's rather curious
2K: Or serious
3K: But of course of purely technical interest
1K: Our projections suggest
2K: A sort of statistical probability
3K: At least a possibility
1K: Basically
2K: That in just such a city
3K: Looking at trends, and ideo-demographic theories
1K: That just such an area as this
2K: Should hold important pointers to formulating statements of neo-realism
3K: And post-socialism.
E: Indeed... that's a poser for Local Government.
Some refreshment?
No. Then what can I say? Executives of all kinds today
Are aware of informational theory development. We have to be.
But this isn't something I can discuss openly.
1K: We're talking of something new.
2K: Something that supercedes
3K: the standard view.
E: Of course, we aim
To increase administrative awareness of local industry's claims.
1K: Something to take the place
2K: of not only socialism
3K: But capitalism.
1K: A mental evolution
2K: A mutational revolution.
3K: A form of social escalation.
E: It doesn't exist.
Look around. Do your best.
Look anywhere.
Despite our efforts, you will find little alternative to despair.
But I wish you luck. And Let me know
How it goes.
*
1K: That was unrevealing.
2K: Perhaps we shouldn't have been so confiding.
3M: The best camouflage is accuracy.
It creates uncertainty.
1K: He seemed perplexed.
2K: Or vexed.
3K: He'll start enquiries of course.
1K: But he doesn't know what it's all about.
2K: He's bound to make false moves.
3K: Devastating ones though.
1K: While we just continue with our own searching, right?
2K: We'd better check by satellite.
3K: Will the alignment still be alright?
1K: Yes, the tracker is geared to randomness.
2K: If you're hunting for the very plainest
3K: Then impartial equipment does it best.
*
E: What strange visitors.
They don't make my job any easier.
The emergence of a successful
New counter-ideology could be frightful.
Just when everything is so simple to manage.
I will have to keep an eye on them.
*
1K: Have you got a reading?
2K: Yes, it's bleeping.
3K: Give me a go.
2K: No.
1K: You've had it for hours. We've walked miles.
2K: I've got the knack. You'd only spoil
The rapport.
And, yes, it's this door.
3K: What a remarkably typical dwelling.
1K: What better protection could there be?
2K: It's almost as though it was intended to be.
3K: It is so entirely ordinary
I feel certain we're about to set in course something very extraordinary.
1K: So this it.
2K: What do we do now?
3K: Who do we ask for?
1K: Let's knock and see who answers.
2K: Someone's peeking through the curtains.
3K: There's someone in, then.
1K: But they're not opening the door.
2K: We could knock some more.
3K: No, be patient. She knows we've seen her.
She'll have to answer.
Mary: Who are you?
If you're the TV licence people, my set's broken down, so I'm not going to renew.
1K: Hello -
Mary: If you're the social, I've said already, I don't know who the father is, honestly. I really don't know.
2K: No, we're -
Mary: If it's rent you're after, I know I said I only wanted to stay one week, but it's all being sorted out.
3K: We wanted -
Mary: I don't do drugs any more. Or anything else. And never did. I told the police that when they came with their sledgehammers, but..
1K: We're gift-bringers; we're the three wise -
Mary: Have I won a prize?
2K: You could say so.
Mary: What?
3K: Melchior, let her know.
1K: A special presentation pack gold coin, mint.
2K: A hundred packets of air freshener to chase away that stink.
3K: And a month's supply of disinfectant, ideal for baby, bath and sink.
Mary: Useful, it can't be denied.
123: May we come inside?
Mary: If you're quiet. For a minute.
Baby's asleep. For a bit.
A cup of tea? 123: Yes please. One sugar for me.
This must be the child,
Look how she smiles.
She's quite cute.
I'm sure she'll suit.
Where is the facsimibod?
Quick, quick, with our little god.
Mould him to the self-same shape,
Every hair and crease to ape.
Substitute the Novel One
Now the mortal let be gone! Mary: One sugar was it?
123: Yes,
Please. Bless
You. Thanks. What a fine child.
Mary: My little one, meek and mild.
Though just now she seems a little wild.
123: Take good care of her, do.
We're happy to leave a prize where it is so useful. But we must go.
*
1K: Melchior, you're a monster!
2K: Balthazar, you're a bastard!
3K: Kaspar, you're a king!
123: We've managed everything!
1K: Smoothly we did it.
2K: She'll never know of it.
3K: Like a fairy changeling
Our special new being
Is hidden safe.
Everyone thinks we came to seek and take
Some secret
But we came to hide it.
1K: The Council?
2K: Let them go on guessing.
3K: We must be moving.
*
E: I have missed something and I don't know what it is.
I have lost something and I don't know what it is.
Something has slipped past me.
Something in these old houses has eluded me.
Why did they come here? It's a slum.
To see what? Or who? Everyone is keeping mum.
Have they discovered some subtlety?
Bah! there are no remedies.
It is places like these are the standing threat to democracy.
It is time we did something about it. Compulsory purchase. Displace the trouble-makers. Erect better private housing and bring in a better class of citizen. That is what I
prophecy.
THE GREY SQUIRRELS' PARLIAMENT: A Puppet Drama
('Analogies with squirrels can't work on a global level.' Milford Wolpoff quoted in James Shreeve The Neandertal enigma (Viking, London, 1996) p.72)
Big Grey:
Order! Order! We're all here, aren't we? Well then, let's get moving. First, please stand for the 'Great Grey Anthem.'
All:
Glorious Grey, Glorious Grey
Long last the dray
Of the Glorious Grey!
We sift and we tooth
Through wet and drouth.
For we are the Grey, the Glorious Grey
Long last the dray
Of the Glorious Grey!
Big:
Thank you all. Now we have come to a critical point in our campaign against the Browns -
All:
Boo to the Browns!
Boo to the Browns!
Tree-coloured clowns!
Down with the Browns!
Big:
Yes, yes, of course. Can we take that as read? Right then, we have some important reports to cover today. Demographic Grey, will you start?
Demo:
Gladly, Big Grey. I spent the week perusing Malthus; according to him, population is limited by food. Ergo, if we target the nuts favoured for eating by the Others, we cut off their food supply. Benefiting ourselves at the same time as disedifying the Others.
Big:
Wouldn't that lead to direct confrontation and injuries?
Demo:
Not if we are ready to eat the nuts a week early. The Others won't touch them till they're frost-soft so they shouldn't mount any challenge.
Big:
So we could get there first and round up the food supply. Good thinking. A possible winning strategy. Dietary Grey, any comments?
Diet:
I doubt if there will be enough nuts for us, even if we get there first; I mean, the Others like the nuts even more than we do and look at the small population they end up with.
Big:
I don't think we're intended to live solely on nuts?
Demo:
No, no. We should eat as widely as possible: diversification is the much the safest way to safeguard against possible shortages in any one area.
Diet:
That's OK then.
Demo:
The point is there won't be anything left for the Others to eat.
Big:
Exactly. But can we take some other views? Anything from the Morale Committee?
Morale Grey:
We looked at Darwin this week. Apparently the more adaptable species stand a better chance against extinction when subject to Natural Selection.
Demo:
What's natural about selection?
Morale:
It's how humans like to picture any significant initiative. Anyway, the point is, if we can keep our customs as flexible as possible, not always insist on strict protocol, develop new ways of devising winning strategies, and so on, we have an advantage over the Others, and ought to be able to replace them entirely.
Big:
Is that a criticism of me?
Morale:
By no means. Our appointing a director of consensus like yourself is exactly the sort of flexibility I'm talking about. In diet, as just noted, if we eat nuts and other food we not only eliminate competition but have a good chance of not being eliminated ourselves; we can look forward to ultimate success for the Greys.
All:
....the Glorious Greys
Long last the drays
Of the Glorious Greys!
Big:
Alright, thankyou. That is enough. This news certainly seems reassuring. The publicity department next, then.
Public Grey:
Our survey shows that the Others are a reticent sort of breed; shy and unlikely to initiate contact with the Big Multicoloured People. I think that's a serious public relations error on their part. We need to appeal directly to the Big Multicoloureds, improve our image, make sure the land managers are on our side.
Big:
How can we do that?
Public:
Well, by not running away when spotted. In fact, I think we should always have a member or two posing on a tree-trunk during the hours of maximum public access to the Dene. We'll still have to run if they've a dog, but those other things, the flashy clicky tools they carry - I think they call them cameras - are harmless, in fact they seem to give People special pleasure. Probably some sort of sexual stimulation. But no threat to us. So we should co-operate and keep still.
Diet:
Maybe we could encourage our members to go up to these Multicoloured People and accept simple titbits of food from their hands.
Demo:
Maybe we could arrange for an occasional baby greyling to fall out its dray when a Human is passing. They seem to feel great emotion over fluffy baby animals - they're certain to give it a cuddle and pop it back in the tree.
Big:
Daring but effective. Of course, you'd have to make sure there were no dogs about. But yes, this all seems to amount to an excellent campaign. Thank you all very much. I think that's all the main -
Spy Grey:
Sir...
Big:
Yes, Spy Grey?
Spy:
There's a possible problem. We need to face up to it now, before we go any further.
Big:
The branch is yours....
Spy:
It concerns the giants. The Multicoloureds. Well, they're not really, that's just their outer covering; they're all white underneath, you know.
Big:
Is that your important observation?
Spy:
No, sorry, I'll get on. There seem to be two basic types of these Big White People: the ones that walk past and say 'lovely furry friends'; they can hardly tell the Greys -
All:
The Glorious Greys!
Spy:
- from the Others. But there is a second type too, who walk past and say 'Drat those incomers, they're spoiling the woods and driving the native species out.' I followed one of these, and they come from a lodge above the Dene. There they have all sort of maps and plans, so I think they're the real land managers, and....
Big:
And?
Spy:
Well I heard one of them imply we were a major problem that would have to dealt with.
[pause]
Big:
Dealt with?
Spy:
He sort of cricked his finger and made like a clicking gesture.
Public:
Probably a camera thingy.
Spy:
I don't think so. He also made a sort of popping or banging sound. Pow! - like that.
Big:
Like the long rods that bring sudden death?
Spy:
It scared me, whatever it meant.
Public:
But the nice ones, the ones with the picnics and cameras would never let them!
Spy:
I don't think they intend to let them know about it. The idea is we gradually disappear without anyone knowing why, or being aware it's happening. Like the rabbits did.
Big:
Like them? Us? Not even knowing? Well, we are aware. But what do we do about it? I suppose it's no good appealing to their kinder natures? No. Frontal attack? Impossible. Something subtle... something defensive.... Disguise ourselves? Go red? No, the stain would come off in the rain. Camouflage? Clumsy. What then? Live always on the other side of a tree? Run in desperate circles? Move on? Why should we? Publicity, this is all your fault.
Public:
I honestly wasn't aware of this prejudice. I thought they were all in favour of evolution and progress, and that. Humans. This comes as bit of a shock.
Big:
Not half as much a shock as meeting Sudden Death when you're posing on your tree-trunk....
Public:
Then you think of something.
Big:
I can't. That's not my role. And it wouldn't help in this case. We've been trapped. We've used initiative developed by democracy, because that was the Human way, and they've done a dirty on us. Tricked us. Lured us into planning meaningfully so we can be detected and dealt with as a whole accordingly. We've been encouraged to mould our own identity to make it easier for them to locate and dispose of us! It's become as dangerous for us to win as it is to lose! The confrontational, creative context is bound for disaster, even with all the factors we have on our side. No, I can no longer be a source of such ideas. I scarcely dare be a consensus. We may have to disband our very nation-hood to survive at all.
Morale:
What do you mean? What do you see ahead?
Big:
Oh dear, I try to work out what will happen, but it always spells Retreat.... Unless... And even then... Well, it is quite desperate. If we proceed against the Others, the Great Giants will proceed against us. Right? But we can't exist side by side because all the books and all the great Human thinkers say the basis of life is competition. And we have to compete because there are two types of us, right? The solution is one type of us, right? But if we seek to eliminate the Others, we may be eliminated in turn. In short we cannot win on those terms. We should have found our own way from the start. Not heeded the White Man's learning after all. And now we must start again. We'll have to work towards a basis for co-operation with the Others, if they'll have us.
Public:
But we had never objected to that.
Big:
If we had not been fed all this Malthus and Marx.
Demo:
Couldn't we simply intermarry?
Morale:
There's a strange notion.
Public:
And not easy to achieve. They're too shy, they hardly notice us, let alone come close.
Diet:
Once we've a monopoly on the best autumn nuts, who are the girls going to look at? Some pretty brown male with no nuts in his store, or one of us? Within a generation, we'll have the problem licked.
Demo:
They could back-breed us and separate us out again.
Morale:
Not a chance. In the wild? And why go back to simpering, we-can't-survive-on-our-own browns, may I ask? No, no, we'll have solved their problem for them, and our problem too. And all the credit for compromise. I feel sure it's the best idea yet. If we can interbreed?
Demo:
There should be no obstacle there. In fact, I volunteer to -
Big:
Don't you see yet? Any strategy based on our ultimate victory is doomed; it makes us more disliked, more egregious, more detectable, more vulnerable to the Great White People. The greater our success against the Others, the less we will be allowed to benefit in the long run. Not because of any natural causes but because of the aversion of a particular set of People, which could be decisive, it seems. Why, it almost argues there is a God - but one that is set to deal brutally with us.
Morale:
What could be less selfish than sharing our future? We'd be caring for both species wouldn't we?
Public:
It's hardly for the future of our own race any more, is it?
Demo:
It's for the future of a new race, if you like. If we became one, how could the Great Whites act against us without harming the Others too? We would have guaranteed survival for both.
Big:
True. Even if were successfully removed, how wouldthe Others fare without us? Without our initiative for the general cause, the communal solution, they would just sink into the role of tree-rats and be forgotten to death. Extinct with us, or without us, it seems. And as for us, if it's a question of culture versus survival, we have little choice either.
Diet:
A strange sort of survival: we've no clear idea what we may turn into, have we?
Spy:
It's rather exciting.
Demo:
Can we still call ourselves the Glorious Greys?
Big:
We'll have to talk to the Others about that. But we need to avoid any tincture of absorption and hegemony. We need to be clear, this is no easy way; we will not be left with our traditions and biases intact; we will all be something new, you know; there is no point grumbling about that. But how to symbolise this? What would best represent this mixed future? A new name, I think, would be a better idea. Suggestions?
Spy:
Something spirited.
Morale:
Something noble.
Demo:
Something assertive.
Public:
Something with scrunch and thrill and wonder and courage....
Big:
How about.... Squirrel....
Public:
It doesn't rhyme with anything...
Big:
It rhymes with itself!
All:
Squirrels for ever!
Squirrels hurray!
Squirrels united!
Brown and grey!
Never say never!
Say squirrels for ever!
Hurray for the squirrels!
Hurray for the squirrels! etc.
====================================================
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