(The stylised language is a bit of an experiment)
Main Characters;
Raven: A student recently returned from a tour of South America.
Steve: A student of art, Raven's Friend.
Andy: A student of philosophy, Raven's Friend.
Lisa: A girl.
Felix: Lisa's Father.
Torix: Lisa's Brother.
Chorus.
Act 1 Scene 1
A wine-bar in Cheltenham (UK), Raven, Steve and Andy are sat on two large sofas near the door holding pints of beer and talking. Chorus is sat at the bar facing the audience.
Chorus (addressing audience): How could I then kindle in your eyes such appetite to see unfold these lives? Or how entreat the hungers of your mind with, “stay! Sup here awhile”
For what burdens carry all of broken-hearted youth? Of promise turned to weakest crumbling lies.
So then let not your eye turn from a little truth, and these few simple hearts do not despise.
O back! Back! You tensions and you tears. Leave our hearts awhile you million fears.
And kindly judge, please my honoured peers, a boy meets a girl...
and all appears.
Raven: Brothers how I wish that I could gift your eyes but one fifth of the sights that I have seen these few months gone! Then would your winter-soaked hearts leap like lambs in the fields my dear and very good friends.
Andy: I cannot see, Raven, how this miry world could ever change in essentials by the seeing of a sight nor even from all that trampling on ruins.
Steve: Steady. But you are a burden to your companions, Andy, when you speak such. For my part I would gladly dream a little of the Andean heights or the broad green sweep of the Amazon. But now I think again that your jealousy does show itself like adraggled crow that seeks to croak its gaudy taunts at the eagle of whose soaring it can only dream.
Andy: Less like and more than needed from you...you word-smith.
Raven: Settle friends, settle. I do but wish that we three could just rest atop a peak somewhere and drown for a while the sorriness in our heads in something like..like awe. And bring us near to happier days. For though a view may not touch the sorrows of the world it does brighten the eyes most marvellously.
Andy: Then drive us, fly us or carry us when you wander next for I would gladly look but have no love of walking.
Steve: Another drink gentlemen?
Raven (handing over his empty glass): Stout heart!
Andy: The same, lad, the same.
Steve walks to the bar, a little later Felix and Lisa enter and while they take off their coats Raven and Lisa exchange glances.
Felix (to Lisa): Sorry dugout here girl. Enough brushed steel and leather lounges to make an honest man cringe.
Lisa: Warm enough tho. What shall we drink?
Felix: How's a toddy sound? See if the specimen behind the bar knows how.
They walk to the bar passing Steve returning with three pints of guiness.
Steve (looking back at Lisa): Sauce for the eyes as well then lads. Oh-oh.
Raven (stunned): What.
Steve: But did you not see! The raven-haired daughter of the earth, that sweet child yonder with the ape.
Andy: Sweet enough for some I suppose, but nothing to stir my blood.
Steve (sitting down): Then your blood is like your head; shamefully thick! But what of you my Raven, do you tire yet of fine views?
Raven: Only in that...none compare with this just seen.
Steve: A fine, healthy, mannish sentiment.
Raven: Those eyes have pierced my head, have made me…have made me new and flayed me raw. Brothers, I tell you the truth, I could be a dangerous man and carve open the world to discover such eyes for myself.
Steve: What’s this?
Andy: Some foolish sport, he marked her not.
Raven (standing suddenly): To your kennel hound! I marked her well and she marked me. If your blunted eyes could but see it, it drenches me like rain. (To himself) This sudden hunger in my heart, this storm will kill me.
Steve: Easy man, easy. She’s a fine girl true enough but sit and think; a man she has so look on, be happy and look no more. Tis a policy has spared me much pain.
Raven: Happy with looking you say…looking; the antique curse. Who knows better than I that pitiful eyes can never touch, can never reach or grasp or hold. Don’t give me looking if you love me lest the other senses of the soul should go unsatisfied andlooking take my bones out to the snow to die by bullets through the eyes! Off with you curs!
Andy: Whatever the case your friends will not leave you. For your sake and ours calm yourself and sit. Our three minds will work on this better together than your scrambled brain will alone.
Steve: It’s true lad. Down some I say and we’ll search this matter out.
Raven hesitates a moment then sits down and takes a long pull on his drink.
Raven: I would have her for myself.
Steve: Then this we must know first; what is the nature of the matter between them? He may yet be her brother come to that.
Andy: He has not the look of a brother.
Raven (calmer, thoughtful): I would know this; what sort of man is the fellow? By looks as rough as old dogs, it’s true and yet many a gentle soul has lived in an ugly house. For even now my spirits calm and I say this; if he be good and love her well I’ll not tamper with it. And I’ll go this moment to the orient to die among the populous lonely.
Steve: Enough wild words!
Andy: Steady to the purpose please.
Raven: Sorry friends. My mind is in some strange conjunction. A fever picked up from my travels, an odd mixture in my bones. How if I talk to the fellow?
Steve: For certain, only with caution. When the girl is off to the restroom as assuredly will happen soon.
Andy: Offer a drink.
Steve: Look she goes, quick man!
Lisa leaves and Raven stands and walks to the bar.
Raven: Barman! A pint of ale if you will and whatever may please this good gentleman (Indicates Felix).
Felix (looking up from a newspaper directly at Raven): A double scotch with ice. I thank you.
Raven: A word if I could sir.
Felix: A man who confines himself to a single word will choose it with some vastly clever thinking I expect. What will yours be friend?
Raven: A few words.
Felix: Well, isn’t heavens sweet blessing finally pouring out on this poor ignorant soul. A handful of careful chosen brilliant words from the tight-closed ranks of the intellectual guardians of the future of our sorry little country. What are you studying then my fine lad? On initiating a conversation with the object in question would it be… sociology, anthropology or maybe zoology?
Raven: I..I am a student of political science and…
Felix: Politics! You will have shot a little wide on that account old son, not really extreme enough anymore for people in my patch of strata. Always swings to the middle, none of the fascist coups or socialist revolutions that might suit my lack of education.
Raven: Enough eloquence please! Unless you would use a little to tell me this…
Felix: Well?
Raven:…what sort of man are you?
Felix: Hmmm…a mid-fielder. Heavy booted like thunder and yet ever floating in those perfect passes weighted like to butterflies settling gently on the boot of the man up front. And then, along the ground, the scalpel of the finest surgeon, the quick incision, defenders gaping in awe.
Raven: A footballer then?
Felix: Something like.
Lisa returns and sits next to Felix at the bar.
Felix: I know your purpose well enough boy. Get you gone.
Raven: How can this be born?! Nor will I bear it. How can beauty such as this, so pale and yet so warm. So touched with every brief and precious light be here…be here with a man of this sort!?
Felix: A man of my sort could measure you out easily enough.
Raven (preparing to fight): Bring it man for I’m ready!
Felix punches Raven in the side of the head, Raven collapses to the floor. Andy and Steve run up alarmed.
Felix: It’s a true shame your friend chose to speak unkindly lads. For I am not a man given to violent actions.
Andy: Charges will be brought!
Felix: I think not. Since those as are merciful will be shown the mercy.
Steve: Mercy, how?
Felix: Perhaps you fellows would like to join this lively cockerel in the dust? Run children, run back to your pot-ridden digs and there we’ll leave the argument.
Steve and Andy drag Raven out of the bar.
Lisa: It was badly done father.
Felix: How girl? Will I not protect you who are, of all my kin, most near my heart? Did I not swear to your mother that none would harm her children while I lived?
Lisa: Most glad I am of your protection father. But really what harm was here?
Felix: What harm! Tell me, what kind of man saw you?
Lisa: A student poorly fed, twenty-one maybe less, with some small beard.
Felix: I see your eyes are yet unhatched. Here was a cunning agent of the world! Who’s livid and restless brain would fix on a girls beauty to give it some short rest from all the complicated words he must know before he dies. And when your beauty grows tired or he tires of you, then he takes up your hands with “I have fallen out of love” or “I have met someone new but will ever think kindly of you”. Because it is always a case of his needing, his desiring while your rich youth is wasted gorging his ravening ego. And then he goes on his way, with ever so kind, regretting words, to his o so important job, to his three-storey terrace, to his wife with short hair and a posh education. Then come his kids, so healthy, so precious, two maybe three, a pigeon pair and one for good measure. He drives an Audi and she, a Range Rover. And one day you’ll see ‘em, out in Montpellier gardens him playing with the kids her reading some novel translated from Russian. And your bitter heart will burn and grind itself because you could never purge his poison.
Lisa: How can you possibly know he was such a man on such brief knowledge!?
Felix: He was a definite type.
Lisa: I cannot believe the world is so made. His eyes were most gentle.
Felix: Ho! Then the danger is greater than I perceived for the girl has thoughts of her own on the matter.
Lisa: And so I may for I have my own set of eyes and will use my own mind.
Felix: Well…maybe I am a little offside. But this is not a world nor a time that I am inclined to trust and my daughter will know the dangers or I am no true father!
Lisa: Spoken well. And I treasure your good words as I treasure my life. Shall we head home? I see a break in the clouds.
Felix and Lisa put on their coats and walk out of the bar.
Chorus: What is a man this day? I ask in honest inquiry. For all the prophecy of good story declares that love is not love if it lack financial security. To be self-made or to have lain in the crib wreathed in cosy wealth are both equally fine for the needs of our happy ending. But shall a poor man stand? Shall he for want of means forsake romance? How came we to price men thus? How are dollars now gifts of virtue and pounds the crowns of happiness? Here stands a man with beauty for a bride and three or four laughing children and he says; “could I but win the lottery then would I be happy”. I say; can a good man not teach wisdom without cash to prove its value? Can he not glory in his family without having his manhood stapled to a statement? Is there nothing good in man that won’t be lost when his last penny is spent?!
U rocketh Sam!
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