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First Playlet
Characters:
[1.] The Bishop’s seat in a certain countryside district. [A large room with curved ceilings in a building made of stone, about four hundred years old four hundred years ago. Very heavy wooden benches and beveled lead glass windows with copper shutters and iron hinges. A few massive books, each on its own pedestal. A huge walk-in fireplace with hobs, bellows, kettles and tools.] Visitor: Il fait froid ici. [It is cold here.] The Old Bishop: Ah? [Ah?] Oui. [Yes.] Je pense que c’est vrai. [I suppose it’s true.] J’oubliais . . . [I was forgetting . . .] Visitor: Vous oubliiez? Comment peux-tu oublier que la température est si basse? [Forgetting? How can you forget that the temperature is so low?] The Old Bishop: Ah bon? [Is it?] La température. [The temperature.] Je n’avais pas remarqué . . . [I hadn’t noticed . . .] Visitor: En fait, je viens d’arriver. Je ne suis pas habitué à ça vraiment. [Well, I’ve just arrived. I’m not used to this really.] C’est une piéce agréable en tout cas. Difficile avec tout ça, mais rassurant d’être aussi vieux et toujours là. [Well, this is a nice room anyhow. Difficult with whatnot and all, but comforting to be that old and still be around.] Hoh! A l’exception des gens ici présents bien sûr. [Hoh! Present company excepted, of course.] (Mince alors!) [(Whoops!)] The Old Bishop: Il y a de vieilles légendes sur cet endroit. [There are old legends about this place.] Visitor: Vous avez raison, mais vous parlez trop lentement. On vous l’a déjà dit? [You are alright, but you speak too slowly. Do other people tell you that? ] The Old Bishop: Peut-être vous aimeriez que j’appelle la dame pour vous les raconter. Je ne suis pas passionnante. [Maybe you would like me to call in the woman to tell you them. I am not much company.] Visitor: Donc. De vieilles histoires - [So. Old stories -] The Old Bishop: Oui. Et j’ai des poulets au fond avec des longues, longues plumes qui les protègent du froid et de l’humidité comme vous dites. [Yes. And I have chickens out in the back with long, long feathers that protect them from the cold and the damp as you say.] Visitor: Ah. Laissez-moi vous dire. Etes-vous interessé par l’un de ces nouveaux concepts? Est-ce que vous en avez entendu parler? [Ah. Let me ask you. Are you interested in any of the new concepts? Do you know about them?] The Old Bishop: Nous ne sommes pas des gens qui lisons les journaux ici. [We are not newspaper people here.] Visitor: Permettez-moi de faire connaissance avec votre femme. [Let me meet your wife.] The Old Bishop: Elle n’est pas une femme. Elle est seulement une femme. [She isn’t a wife. She’s only a woman.] Visitor: C’est pareil - [Still the same – ] Woman to the See: [appearing in the doorway] Pardonnez-moi. J’écoutais à la porte [I beg your pardon. I was eavesdropping. ] Visitor: Et vous avez entendu votre nom prononcé. Enfin, pas votre nom, mais – [And you heard your name mentioned. Well, not your name, but – ] Woman to the See: Mon sexe a été mentionné. Oui, je vous ai entendu le mentionner. [My sex was mentioned. Yes, I heard it mentioned.] Visitor: Pardonnez-moi – [I beg your pardon – ] Woman to the See: Non, pardonnez-moi - [No, I beg yours – ] Visitor: Je n’ai pas - [I didn’t – ] Woman to the See: Ah, oui, je connais - [Oh yes, I know – ] The Old Bishop: Il est venu avec la nouvelle carriole, femme. Vous voyez, ce genre de carriole est tout nouveau pour nous. Comment ça se comporte sur route? [He came on the new coach, woman. You see, that kind of coach is very new to us. How does it travel over the roads?] Visitor: Encore une fois je dois vous demander pardon, mais je ne suis pas venue en carriole. [Once again I must beg your pardon, but I did not come on the coach.] Woman to the See: Non? [No?] The Old Bishop: Non? [No?] Visitor: Non. Je suis venu à cheval. Les hommes du paroisse ont parlé des pelouses fragiles par là-bas, donc. [No. I came on horseback. The men in the parish mentioned the delicate grasses out this way, so. ] The Old Bishop: Merci. [Thank you.] Woman to the See: Oui, merci. Les visiteurs ne se préoccupent en général pas de ce genre de détails – mais c’est parce qu’ils n’y connaissent rien. [Yes, thank you. That sort of care is usually not taken by visitors – but because they don’t know about it.] Nous devons protéger les pelouses des roues et des wagons. Autrement il n’y en aurait pas assez pour notre bétail avant que l’hiver ne s’installe vraiment. Tout est fait ici à cheval.] [We must keep the grasses free of wheels and wagons. Otherwise there will not be enough for our livestock before winter really sets in. Everything is done here on horseback.] Visitor: Il y a eu une dispute dans le paroisse. A propos du bétail, j’ai entendu des hommes se disputer à une auberge là-bas oú j’étais restée. L’un des hommes etait le meneur. [There was an argument in the parish. About the livestock, I heard some men arguing at an inn there where I had stayed. One of the men was the leader.] The Old Bishop: Et la dispute? [And the argument?] Woman to the See: Oui, est ce que ca va nous toucher ici aussi? [Yes, will it affect us out here this way?] Visitor: Je ne sais pas. Evidemment c’était plus un problème pour ceux qui gardent le bétail prêt du paroisse. [I don’t know. Evidently it was an issue more to do with those that keep livestock nearer to the parish.] Certains des habitants essaient de faire une ordonnance qui empêchera les fermiers de battre le bétail sur la route principale du paroisse. [Some of the residents are trying to make an ordinance that will disallow farmers driving livestock through the main street of the parish.] The Old Bishop: Oh! [Oh!] Woman to the See: Oh, cieux! Des cieux et un pêché! [Oh, heavens! Heavens and sin!] Visitor: Ceux qui se disputaient disaient à propos de leur bétail qu’ils avaient besoin de paítre sur la pelouse de l’autre côté. [Those that were arguing were saying about their livestock needing to graze on the grasses to the other end.] Woman to the See: Oui, et par cette rue est la seule route sure pour les emmener lá-bas. [Yes, and through that street is the only safe way to take them there.] Donc vous voyez ce sera terrible pour beaucoup de nos relations et aussi pour nous une fois par an, bien que nous ne les emmenions paître qu’une fois par an. [So you see it will be terrible for many of our relations and also for us once a year, though we only take them to graze there once a year.] Visitor: Je vois. Comme c’est terrible pour vous, vraiment. Ce n’est pas facile pour moi á raconter, j’ai un ‘dégoût urbain pour le concret.’ [I see. How terrible for you, really. It’s not easy for me to relate, I have an ‘urban distaste for the concrete.’] The Old Bishop: En effet. [Indeed.] Visitor: Donc, je pense que j’aurais mieux fait d’aller me coucher. Y a-t-il un lit prêt? [Well, I think I had better turn in. Is there a bed been made ready?] Woman to the See: Vouliez vous des histoire orale? Traditionnelles? [Did you want some oral stories? Traditional?] Visitor: Pas vraiment. Il y a habituellement des fantômes dedans, et ca me donne de l’indignation. [Not really. There are usually ghosts in them, and that gives me indignation.] Woman to the See: Pas ceux là - [Not these – ] Visitor: Si mon lit est fait - [If my bed is made ready – ] The Old Bishop: Dormez bien, bonne nuit. [Sleep well, goodnight.] Woman to the See: Je vais vous conduire à vos chambres. [I’ll bear you to your rooms.] Visitor: Bonne nuit. Merci. [Goodnight. Thank you.] Woman to the See: Par ici. [This way.] [The Old Bishop passes some time alone until the Woman to the See returns. When she returns, they speak in English with no subtitles.] The Old Bishop: Is he asleep? Woman to the See: He has retired. The Old Bishop: What is the hour? Woman to the See: Where is the moon? Okay. The hour is nigh. The Old Bishop: Very good, very good. Very fortuitous. Woman to the See: [affectionately] Let us begin. [chanting and incantations:] ah. Bay. Say. Day. Ay. EFFFF. Gay. Ho. Eee. Yay. Ko. Ehll. Ehmm. Ehnn. Ooo. Pay. Coo. Rrrha. Ehss. Tay. Uuuh. Vay. Dubbelvay. Exxeh. Eeehe. Set. Aaa. Uuh. Oh. uavhengig uavhengighet uavhengigheten uavhengighetserklæring uavhengighetserklæringen ubestemt ubestemte uenig uenige uerstattelig uerstattelige uflaks en uflaks uflaksen uførhetstrygd en uførhetstrygd ugras et ugras ugraset uhyggelig uhyggelig uhyggelig en uke uken neste uke I forrige uke et ukeblad ukebladene ukedag ukevis ull ei ull ulla ulv en ulv ulven umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig umulig og . . . A spectre becomes apparent. The Old Bishop: He is appeared! Woman to the See: He has red! The Old Bishop: He is red musculature! Woman to the See: Look how the musculature has ridges and is stretched tight! The Old Bishop: Behold how complex are the musculature of the face! About the eyes! Woman to the See: I sense he is trying to speak. Can’t we hear him? The Old Bishop: The mouth musculature are moving – maneuvering - Woman to the See: We have so many questions! The Old Bishop: The new coach! Did he take it? Woman to the See: (reaching and then not reaching) I’m reaching and reaching! Gone. The Old Bishop: Goodbye. We’ll return. We have insinuated and been implicated. Woman to the See: I can still taste the obscurity. [2.] The next morning at the Bishop’s See. [From the windows, a gentle autumn scene. They speak in English.] Visitor: I had such strange dreams in this place last night. Woman to the See: Yes. You are not the first to make such a claim. Visitor: Oh? Woman to the See: No. Visitor: Interesting. Much of my work has been assigned to machines, when before it only involved my own hands. When that change happened, I accepted freely the idea that there would be less life in the work. But last night, I imagined that the metals of the machines assumed qualities of living, feeling flesh, and so, in a way, the machines became, also, living. Woman to the See: I see. Visitor: Do you? I don’t see how. It makes no sense to me. Indeed, I’ve quite a headache from such foolish hallucinations in the night. The purpose and miracle of machines is that they release our work from the shackles imposed by our inadequate human flesh. Our living flesh can only impede us – it costs too much to maintain. A machine needs only some dusting and grease and does its work endlessly without complaint. Where is the Bishop? Does he sleep in or is he already out with his long-feathered chickens? Woman to the See: Sometimes one, sometimes the other. Today I know not which. Visitor: You are not his wife, he tells me? Woman to the See: That is what he tells you? Visitor: Well, and what are you then? Woman to the See: I am the Woman to the Bishop’s See. Women were scarce in these parts at one time. A visitor like yourself might say they remain so. Traditionally, one woman was very valuable, and had to be shared a long way around. I came to do what I can in the way of womanly duties to the entire See, not just to the Bishop. Visitor: He is an old Bishop. What happens when he dies? To whom will you woman then? Woman to the See: I shall stay at my post, I suppose. Unless a new bishop comes, with a wife. Then I don’t know. Visitor: Perhaps you could come with me. To where I’m from. Woman to the See: Don’t be ridiculous – but you live so far away! Don’t you? I assumed - Visitor: Yes, I live far away. But it is still countryside there. Countryside that is near to a large town with cultural events. And music. But you would have to content yourself with being one among many women, with duties to a much smaller number of men; namely: me. Woman to the See: I’ll think it out. It sounds ridiculous. [Now speaking again in Fraunch, with English subtitles.] Qu’est-ce que tu veux sur ton petit-déjeuner? [What do you want on your breakfast?] Visitor: You mean on my – Woman to the See: Je voulais dire le Curé. [I meant the Bishop.] Visitor: What do I want on the – The Old Bishop: Bacn. Visitor: Oh! Je ne savais pas que vous étiez rentré, bon Curé. Bon matin! Qu’avez vous entendu de ce que nous disions? [Oh! I didn’t know you came in, good Bishop. Good morning! How much did you hear of what we were talking about?] The Old Bishop: Chickn. Woman to the See: [Without speaking, in subtitle only]
[He takes a while to come to in the morning if it’s before breakfast. The food brings him around. The night is his time of sharpness and high awareness. ] [Then in Fraunch] Les aumôniers devraient arriver bientôt. [The almsmen should be coming soon.] [Then without speaking, in subtitle only] [Will you stay through supper? ] Visitor:
Oh, je vois. Vous mettez le petit-déjeuner au-dessus de la bouillie. Mignon et intelligent. Poulet ou bacon. Ou les deux. [Oh, I see. You put the breakfast on top of the porridge. Quaint and clever. Chicken or bacon. Or both.] The Old Bishop: Suppr. Visitor: [Without speaking, in subtitle only]
[I’ll stay through supper. ] Woman to the See: [Also without speaking, in subtitle only] [It’ll be after dark by then – ] Visitor: [in subtitle only]
[Then I’ll have to stay another night, you mean? And we can have another talk in the morning. I enjoy this kind of talking. ] [now speaking in Fraunch] Aujourd’hui je dois faire huit kilomètres à cheval et faire quelques affaires là-bas. Je reviendrai à peu près trois quart d’heure après le coucher du soleil. Serai-jeà l’heure pour le souper alors? [To-day I must ride out eight miles and attend to some business there. I’ll return about three quarters of an hour after sundown.] [now without speaking, in subtitle only] [Will I be in time for supper then?] Woman to the See: Vous serez exactement à l’heure pour le souper. Vous vouliez à la fois du poulet et du bacon sur votre petit-déjeuner? [You’ll be exactly in time for supper. You wanted both chicken and bacon on your breakfast?] Visitor: Merci. [Thanks.] The Old Bishop: You’re bound to the See. Woman to the See: I think he came for a reason. Visitor: C’est delicieux! [It’s delicious!] The Old Bishop: Don’t think you can just leave. Woman to the See: He came on the exact day the Dead Red appeared to us. The Dead Red could not, or would not speak to us. This man does. He has even described strange dreams featuring animated metals. Therefore they must be connected. The Old Bishop: You’re to regret these thoughts. Woman to the See: Listen, you Old Bishop. That Dead Red appeared to us at the same time this Visitor comes and asks me to go with him. I’m not just going to ignore that. You won’t be around forever and when you’re gone, a new Bishop will come, probably with a wife. Nowadays they come with a wife. And then what will become of me? I may not get a chance at another life. The Old Bishop: You’re to be hanged for forsaking your duties to the See. Visitor: - Hé oh! [ - Hey!] Woman to the See: Il dit la verité. Je serais pendue. Mangez votre petit-déjeuner. Et voyagez en toute sécurité. J’ai à faire. [He’s speaking truth. I would be hanged. Eat your breakfast. And safe travels to you. I’ve duties.] [Exit.] The Old Bishop: . . . Visitor: You won’t be around forever. I could wait. She doesn’t have to come now. The Old Bishop: She does. You won’t wait. Visitor: I will. The Old Bishop: You won’t. You’re free. Why should you wait? Visitor: Perhaps I think she deserves another go around. The Old Bishop: You’re a fool. Visitor: A fool that’s got business to attend to. Good day, Mister Bishop. The Old Bishop: And out and out and out. [3.] Some days later, morning. Visitor: And during the discussion from the other day, you mentioned the ‘Dead Red,’ and in connection with me no less. What does it mean? Woman to the See: The Bishop began in the world as a promising young scholar. He was inducted to the bishopric, and accepted so as to be able to continue his studies. After some time he became moved toward the pursuit of a transcendent cognition, of an unsounded knowledge, strictly forbidden, of course, by the church, and beyond all limits of human experience or understanding. When he was ordained from priest to bishop, he was installed here and I was sent to join him as is the tradition. I was not here very long when I learned that my Bishop was caught in a significant conflict. You see, while he would never acknowledge it to the church, the Bishop never considered himself a religious man. He was first a scholar, and foremost a scholar. Because he had been so quietly devoted to his studies, it was easy for his superiors to perceive him as devout and pious. Once here, he was free to pursue any course of inquiry relatively unmolested, provided he not forsake his duties to the See. And of course, I have seen to it that he has not. Visitor: And so what, exactly, is the conflict? He is an old man now. Woman to the See: Yes, in the autumn of his years. His once formidable wits keeping their morning dimness longer and longer each morn. I was a mere girl when I arrived, but unseen compartments in my trunk were stuffed with books. I, too, was an eager student in my own right. I began to assist him in his quest for this strange and volatile knowledge. Together we have entered forbidden realms in the tacit name of scholarly exhumation and learning. We never considered the possible influence of our own religious instincts. As far as we considered, our quest was intellectual. We followed one discovery after another, passed through one veiled and dimly lit antechamber after another, knowing not where the quest should lead, but feeling increasingly compelled with each seeking step. What we did not expect were our own secret and powerful desires to worship what we sought. With your arrival, everything is culminating. We have managed, briefly, to summon the presence of a great alchemical master. This we had tried to achieve for many long years and months. Before we could gain audience, he vanished. We feel that he will speak through you, if you join us. As you can see, the Bishop’s days in this world are numbered. His mental faculties become more feeble and as time slips away it carries his essence with it. I feel I must convince the Dead Red to take the Bishop’s soul or spirit, when the time comes, and bestow it upon a created homunculus, or little man, in the immaterial plane. If you will help me, I will come away with you, or as you please. My duties to the Bishop and to the See will be resolved, and I will be, for the first time since age sixteen, bereft of obligations. Visitor: Is the Bishop aware of these plans of yours? To send him on to another plane? Does he go willingly when he goes? Or without the capacity to make a choice one way or the other? Are you afraid of going to hell? Woman to the See: On a certain level he is aware. Even in his right mind and full wits, he would not be able to deny the staggering metaphysical triumph it would represent to endow an alchemical homunculus - fashioned by metals in our wretched, inadequate world - with a human soul in the world beyond, whether or not that soul is his. But it is I who am making the decision. My aim is to transcend the boundaries of heaven and hell, to reach a state of being where such labels are irrelevant. Visitor: I will help you in any way I can. I will stir your simmering hellbroth, invoke unimaginable demons at your side at your side if need be. I will bid what you wish to be bidden, I will hide what you wish to be hidden. And after that I will bring you with me wherever I am going and we will never speak of it again. Woman to the See: Agreed. [A ritual ceremony has just concluded. The Woman to the See wears a modest wedding raiment. The Dead Red presides over the two from the previous scene and a glowing hot crucible. The Old Bishop, now a developing homunculus, hovers nude in an airless, fluorescent glass vessel in midair, gestating silently. His former human vestige lies in a heap on the floor, now a mere carcass.
Soon the gestation changes to gesticulation. The dainty fists of the tiny man begin to flail and beat against the glass vessel.] Dead Red: [recites incantations] independent independence independence Declaration of Independence Declaration of Independence indefinite indefinite in disagreement in disagreement irreplaceable irreparable bad luck bad luck bad luck disability pension disability pension weed the weed weeds unpleasant unpleasant unpleasant week weeks next week last week weekly magazine, newspaper weekday for weeks wool wool wool wolf a wolf wolves impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible impossible and [The homunculus/Old Bishop smashes the glass of the beaker with his dainty fists, and the whole operation drops, crashing.onto the stone floor. The carcass of the Old Bishop begins to gasp and cough, then dies completely. The Dead Red gathers the homunculus in his muscular arms and leaves the scene quietly.] Woman to the See: My guess is that I am going to go to hell after all. The Endof the First PlayletCONTINUED IN NEXT ISSUE
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