A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S SCREAM

DRAMATIIS PERSONᴁ:

BUTCHER, a man of Verona

RICARDO, his friend

SIM, in love with Surpanakha

SURPANAKHA, a famous beauty

SOOTHSAYER

GHOST

                                                                   ACT 1

                                                                 SCENE 1  

Verona. A Street.

[Enter BUTCHER and RICARDO.]

BUTCHER: Indeed I know not, what it might mean,

This Yellow Bird some unseen hand

Hath left upon my conveyance. I look on its vacant gaze

Wrought in starched fabric, and wonder at the

Simpering evil in its countenance. What can it mean, thinkest thou?

RICARDO: Such a thing has not come to pass

For many a long year. But I recall, as my grandfather said to me

In his cups one day –

[Enter SOOTHSAYER]

SOOTHSAYER: Master, beware the Birds of Starch.

BUTCHER: What? What sayest thou?

RICARDO: ‘Tis a wandering soothsayer, who bids you beware the Birds of Starch.

BUTCHER: Aye, and I know his tribe well. Mark me, Ricardo, that when such a man, or such men

Speak, they do so with but one desire,

The glister of the yellow metal is in their eye, as soft words slip off the tongue. What will’st thou, fellow?

SOOTHSAYER: I seek but to protect you, Master, from the Yellow Bird, the Bird of Peril. For surely you are marked, even for death.

BUTCHER: Oh? And who hath marked me?

SOOTHSAYER: The Bird is of ill omen. Nobody can say from whence it comes,

But if gold be not an object, the matter can surely

Be tracked to its lair. Gold and Silver, Master,

Can open the doors of silence. What say you?

BUTCHER: This is what I say to thee, knave: Begone.

SOOTHSAYER: I go, Master, but I will come again

As day follows night, or the sun, the rain.

[Exit SOOTHSAYER]

BUTCHER: It’s as I said. These men have but one desire. ‘Tis perhaps

He, none other, that hath left the Yellow Bird for me to find. What thinkest thou?

RICARDO: All my thoughts, be so in shiploads full, coming in on the flood,

Cannot measure up, sometimes, to one little grain of fact. So, verily, I choose, betimes, to think not at all.

BUTCHER: What said thy grandfather, then in his cups to thee?

RICARDO: My grandsire, an old man, a good man though old

Sat one day in his cups, and beckoned with a forefinger

Twisted and gnarled as a tree of the desert

Struck by sun and wind and rain. When I drew near, he leaned close

The fumes of wine coming hard, and I would have drawn away, but he grasped me by the arm,

His hand hard as flint, and his eye, like the basilisk’s, held me. I could not draw away.

BUTCHER: And what said he? Marry, thou pullest the merest thread of talk

Into a skein of wool many thousands of leagues long,

Until I do believe, thy words could bind the earth.

RICARDO: Thou hast no soul, no heart for drama. Hear then what he said,

The Yellow  Bird cometh for those who sin against the Secret Will

Of the Yellow God. And once it cometh, no man can escape his fate. I fear for thee, old friend.

BUTCHER: The Yellow God? And what be that, pray?

RICARDO: Marry, I know not, any more than thou knowest.

BUTCHER: Perhaps, we could and should

Go amongst the villains of the pier, the shrews of the marketplace

‘Mongst the strumpet and the slave, between the knife and the clap

And seek answers. But who is this who comes?

[Enter GHOST]

BUTCHER: Is it a spirit that I see before me

Shroud draped o’er a skeletal hand?

Come, let me spurn thee.

GHOST: Mislike me not for my complexion

The pallid livery of the silent grave

To which I am a resident, and long gone.

Bring me the darkest Igbo southern born

Where the sun boils even the testicles

And let us lie side by side in death

To prove whose skin is greyer, his or mine.

I tell thee, signors, this aspect of mine

Hath repulsed the sapient. By my death, I swear

The worst-regarded worms of my clime

Hath feasted upon my silent flesh. I would not change this hue

E’en to win the favour of my Queen.

RICARDO: ‘Tis the ghost of the Bard, methinks, come out of his casket

Where he hath lain so many years and aye.

GHOST: I be the spirit of Shakespeare.

BUTCHER: Why com’st thou then unto us, with thy visage pale, and the grave mould on thy brow?

Thou shoulds’t be sleeping the Long Sleep, the cold sleep, not walking the streets

Of fair Verona, in thy winding sheet wrapt. Why com’st thou then?

GHOST: Thou hast said it. The grave is cold, and I craved warmth and cheer. Also, this be

My natal day. ‘Tis the day I was born.

RICARDO: And what seekest thou? A mug of ale?

GHOST: ‘Twould be thin ale, indeed, that I could taste. But, tell me, why look ye so pale? Why shines the sweat upon your brows?

BUTCHER: The Yellow Bird hath come unto me

From the hand of the followers of the Yellow God. I am assured that I am lost.

RICARDO: And we know not what to do.

GHOST: Perhaps together we can find a way

Let us find a tavern, you and I

And twixt us we shall think this matter dry.

[Exeunt]

                                                     *************************************

                                                                      SCENE 2

Verona. Surpanakha’s House.

[Enter SURPANAKHA]

SURPANAKHA (singing): Tell me where my lover lies

Under what suns, what foreign skies

How beloved, how cherished

Reply, reply.

He is beloved by the flies

Who buzz around his empty eyes

And in his skull where it dries.

Let us ring my lover’s knell

I’ll begin it: Go to hell, go to hell.

[Enter SIM]

SIM: What’s this? What is it you sing?

SURPANAKHA: Oh, you. Art thou back from thy voyage then? Or is it

A spirit I see? Long years I have waited, till, by the Virgin,

My very chastity belt doth grow frail with rust. Art thou a spirit? Tell me, tell me truly.

SIM: I am verily a man, thy man, and no spirit. Come, feel my flesh.

SURPANAKHA: Thou art fat, and short of breath. Perhaps my love will melt thy too, too solid flesh. Give me the key to this chastity belt. But hist! Have thy voyages brought thee much gold?

SIM: Alack, the gold I have won

Has gone to feed the pirates

That swarm the gambling dens – I mean the Rialtos

Of the world. I was assured

Each piece I earned, would bring me three

But all it did win me was,

Dust and ashes, tears and misery.

SURPANAKHA: So, say’st thou, that all these years I waited, pining, I waited in vain? All thy promises were as chaff in the wind?

SIM: Nay. I have plans to win that which I had back again. Knowest thou the villain Butcher, who preys upon the markets like a hawk on the dove?

SURPANAKHA: I have heard his name.

SIM: I have loosed an arrow in the air

Which, falling upon fertile fields

Will, I’m assured, bring forth response. I have set the foxes

Among the feathered chickens in Butcher’s coop.

It will bring me what I lost, and more,

My ship that went out on the tide

Will come sailing home again

Laden to the gunwales with gold and with grain.

SURPANAKHA: Is there villainy afoot? What hast thou done?

SIM: Were it to bring fortune, thou would’st not think it villainy.

Come, unlock that belt, and come to me.

[Exeunt]

                                                      *****************************************

                                                                          ACT 2

                                                                        SCENE 1

Verona. A street.

[Enter BUTCHER and GHOST]

BUTCHER: A ship, a ship, my financial kingdom for a ship!

GHOST: Why fear’st thou? Am I not by thy hand?

BUTCHER: ‘Tis thee I fear. Thy drunkenness, thy misanthropy, thy malicious tongue, that the grave hath not stilled. That I fear. Why did’st thou say all that thou did, in yonder tavern?

GHOST: ‘Tis a sad world, where one cannot make sport with a Moor or a Jew. ‘Tis a world grown sad and old, when on one’s birthday, one cannot make a jest. Forsooth!

BUTCHER: I thought they would knife us. Marry, Ghost, I fear thee.

GHOST: Where is thy friend? He is not with us.

BUTCHER: He hath gone to fetch gold to pay for the damage thou hast wrought. Hist!

GHOST: What?

BUTCHER: Seest not thou, the Yellow Bird? What is the Bird, that causes my hair to rise and my eyes to stare?

GHOST: ‘Tis but an old man, that comes this way wrapt in a yellow cloak. No more.

[Enter SOOTHSAYER]

SOOTHSAYER: Greetings, Master. I had said, that thou should’st see me again.

BUTCHER: Out, damned blot! Out, I say! Why, then, it’s time to screw it. Thy motives are murky! Fie, my soul, fie, a man like me, and afeared? What need I fear a stupid creation of cloth and starch

And a beggar who mouths about it? Yet who would have thought the old man

Had so much knowledge to him?

SOOTHSAYER: My motives are no murkier than thine own, sir. A little gold, and my help is assured.

GHOST: Who might ye be, fellow?

SOOTHSAYER: A poor man, an honest man, begging your reverence. Have you a coin or two for me?

GHOST: Those who hath found a home in the grave have no money.

SOOTHSAYER: I go, my Lords, but I will be back. Thou shalt see me again.

BUTCHER: What, I shall see thee again?

SOOTHSAYER: Aye, and thou shall die. [Exit]

BUTCHER: Thou speakest a lot of threats

And leav’st before thy lies find thee out. I will have at thee, villain

If I see thee again. Who’s there?

[Enter RICARDO]

RICARDO: ‘Tis I. I have paid the Moor, I have paid the Jew

I have paid the Irishman, and the Pole

I have paid the black man and the brown.

I have paid everyone our friend hath offended

Until I have one ducat more. I am much afraid

Our friend will prove the beggaring of us all.

BUTCHER: Hast thou heard aught on the market

Of the Yellow God?

RICARDO: Nay, but I heard that Sim the villain is back in town. He hath lost much gold, ‘tis said, and is hungry to make a fortune back again.

BUTCHER: We will repair to my house

And think about this more. Master Ghost, shall we bid ye goodbye?

GHOST: I will remain with thee, not just tonight.

I will be with thee till thou should’st die.

RICARDO: Good, now you can pay for the damage he does. [Exit]

BUTCHER: Et tu, Ricardo? Then fall, Butcher!

[Exeunt]

                                                   ****************************************

                                                                        SCENE 2

Verona. Surpanakha’s house.

[Enter SIM and SURPANAKHA]

SURPANAKHA: And be this true? Have you actually put the fear in this Butcher

Of the Yellow Bird of Peril?

SIM: Aye, that I have. And when he be afeared enough, I will make him

An offer he cannot refuse. I learned those words from a good friend

Across the seas and far away. Maybe thou shalt meet him someday.

SURPANAKHA (aside): Your friends shall be more honest, before I meet and ponder

On their habits.

(to SIM)

My lord, I am unworthy to meet your friends. Meanwhile, I am glad indeed

To be free of that chastity belt. But tell me, what you plan.

SIM: This –

[Enter SOOTHSAYER]

SOOTHSAYER: My Lord and lady, may I enter? I am but a man, a poor man, yet honest.

SIM: So, what does this have to do with us, fellow? What do you desire that I do for you?

SOOTHSAYER: Why, Master, only that I should help thee, and thy beauteous lady, in thy plot against Butcher.

SURPANAKHA: What know’st thou, about the plot? If there is a plot afoot, for, verily, I know nothing.

SOOTHSAYER: ‘Tis common knowledge on the market, that the Master hath put the Yellow Bird on Butcher.

SIM: And if I have? What concern is it of thine?

SOOTHSAYER: I could help thee.

SIM: What will’st thou, for this help?

SOOTHSAYER: In a word? Revenge.

SIM: Revenge? Whom on?

SOOTHSAYER: On thy enemy, Butcher.

SURPANAKHA: On Butcher? Why?

SIM: What would’st thou do to him?

SOOTHSAYER: I’d kill him withal. If it would do nothing else, it would feed my revenge. He hath refused me gold, and hinder’d me a coin or fifty; mocked at my warnings, laughed at my threats, cooled my forecasts and bitter’d my homilies. And what’s his reason? I am a fraud. Hath not a fraud eyes? Hath not a fraud greed, hunger, senses, affectations, dimensions, fashions? If you wed us, do we not breed? If ye give us gold, do we not laugh? If you see through us, do we not cry? And if you laugh at us, shall we not revenge? If we defraud you in the rest, we will be like you in that.

SIM: Come hither, and we shall talk. [Exit SIM and SOOTHSAYER]

SURPANAKHA: ‘Tis time I should decide

Where my duty lies. Is it to myself? Or to my love

So long gone, and returned so strange? Am I to be happy

Or is he? ‘Tis time to make up my mind. Is it my happiness, pray

To which I should look at the end of day?

[Exeunt.]

                                                       ***********************************

                                                                           ACT 3

                                                                        SCENE 1

Verona. A street.

[Enter BUTCHER and RICARDO]

BUTCHER: Well, the Bird of Starch is come.

RICARDO: Aye, Butcher, but not gone.

BUTCHER: I have it with me. If it brings death in its wake

Why, let it do its worst.

[Enter SOOTHSAYER]

SOOTHSAYER (Aside): I shall snicker at them, which be an insult to them, if they do bear it.

RICARDO (to BUTCHER): Where is thy friend, the ghost? Is it he that comes?

BUTCHER: No. [To SOOTHSAYER] Ho, fool!

SOOTHSAYER: Do you address me, Master?

BUTCHER: Do you snicker at me, knave?

SOOTHSAYER: No, I do not snicker at thee, Master. But I snicker, Master.

BUTCHER: Behold, I have a weapon

A better never found itself under a killer’s sky.

I have not seen the day, but await it

When with this little arm and this good sword

I shall lop the heads off more frauds

Than fifty good men and true. Be not afraid, Ricardo

‘Tis a lost fear. Let the Yellow Bird make a rush at Butcher’s breast

And I shall cut off its wings. Look what Butcher will do.

Now, how dost thou look now, thou whey faced fraud

In thy soothsayer’s garb, now I shall run ye through.

This look of thine, white with terror

Makes me smile, and laugh with pleasure.

Even like thy lying, oh clap-ridden knave

Fiends will snatch at ye, and bite ye in spite.

Blow ye about in winds, and roast thee in fires

And drown thee in the deep, deep pools

Of mud and slime. Oh Soothsayer, thou art a goner! Oh!

SOOTHSAYER: I do not fear thee, Master.

BUTCHER (drawing sword): Have at thee, villain!

[Enter SIM]

SIM: What, art thou drawn against this hartless hind? Turn to me, Butcher. Thou hast bad breath.

RICARDO: Good signors both, why don’t ye have calm? Say, why? Ye are exceeding wroth. Must it be so?

SIM: Signor Butcher, many a time and oft

On the markets you have treated me

To the rough edge of your business sense.

And I have borne it all with an angered shrug

For vengeance is the badge of my jibe.

You call me capitalist, profit-gouging sprog

And refer to me as an asset-stripping swine 

And all because I believe greed is good.

Well then, what shall I say to you? Shall I say

“Put up the steel at your side

It is possible

A capitalist and a liberal can be friends?”

BUTCHER: I am as liable to say that again

And treat thy profits so

For since when did thy evil thoughts

Ever touch upon the plight of the weak and poor? Thou art a villain.

And thou art fat.

Give us the foils! Come on!

SIM: Lay on, Butcher, and damned be he who first cries, Hold! Enough!

[They begin to fight. Enter GHOST]

GHOST (to RICARDO and BUTCHER): Good friends both, I was seeking ye. I was afeared that you were lost. What happens here?

SIM: Who art thou, then?

RICARDO: He is the ghost of the bard of Avon.

SOOTHSAYER: That he is, Master. But he hath no powers, but the power to harm the purses of his friends.

GHOST: I seek only a good time. ‘Tis my natal day, after all.

BUTCHER (to SIM): Caught ‘twixt Bird and Bard. You can have him, and welcome.

SIM: I think not. Thou art cursed, Butcher. I take my leave of thee. [Exit SIM and SOOTHSAYER]

GHOST: ‘Tis not the birthday I imagined. Where shall we go? Is there a masque, signors? Are there wine, women and song?

RICARDO: Not unless thou will’st that we both die unhappy and young. 

[Exeunt]

                                                 ***************************************

                                                                       SCENE 2

Verona. A street.

[Enter SIM and SOOTHSAYER]

SOOTHSAYER: Double, double, toil and trouble

You’ve turned your plans to rubble.

Fields of golden grain to stubble.

[Enter SURPANAKHA]

SURPANAKHA: Lord, I heard that thou had fought with Butcher in the marketplace

I was afraid that he hath killed thee.

SIM: Woman, thou can’st see I am alive and well.

SURPANAKHA: Lord, I am only a woman, stupid and weak.

I am afraid you are hurt. May I touch you? May I?

SIM: You can go kill Butcher for me, if you really want to help me, wench.

SURPANAKHA: That’s not an office for a lover, my Lord. [Stabs SIM] There, now I’ve done it.

SIM: How much sharper than a serpent’s tooth

Is the poison of a woman! [Dies]

SURPANAKHA: Here lies the stupidest schemer of them all.

Who would make an empire

Of the extortion of other’s gold

And that through fear. I am well rid of him. [To SOOTHSAYER]

Go now, run away,

Before I make my second killing of the day.

SOOTHSAYER: I’m going, I’m going. [Exits]

SURPANAKHA: Friends, humans, countrymen, lend me your ears

I came to murder Sim, not to praise him

The chastity belt he made me wear chafed my parts raw

The food he gave me was oft hard as stones.

So let us leave aside Sim. The noble Butcher

Thinks there is a Yellow Peril out for his blood.

If there is so, ‘tis a grievous danger

And grievously will Butcher endure it

Here, in fair Verona,

For Butcher is an affluent man.

He hath brought much gold back home

Which did his brimming coffers fill

Did this bring about the Yellow Peril?

While this Sim hath died, Butcher hath prospered

He’s ripe for sucking dry, sure enough

And this in Butcher is attractive,

For Butcher is an affluent man.

Ye all will see, in a few days

I will bed him and wed him

And he will not refuse. This is attraction.

And Butcher is to me attractive

For Butcher is an affluent man. [Exit.]

[Enter GHOST]

GHOST: What have we here? A piece of mortal earth. Rise!

SIM’S GHOST (Rising): The quality of death is much changed

It filleth me with the gentle gain from heaven

And the fire of hell beneath. I am twice blessed

Blessed by Him that gave and Her that took.

‘Tis flightiest in the flightiest; it becomes

The knife-handed strumpet better than her gown...

GHOST: Hold thou. I need a companion

Now that the two I was with

Have banished me. They aver that they would rather

Live a thousand years in purgatory

Rather than see me again. Marry, ‘tis strange

For I thought I was merely bringing joy

To their dull and spackled world.

 

SIM’S GHOST: What would’st thou with me?

GHOST: Thou will be my boon companion, my birthday gift. Come what may

We will never be apart, be it night or day.

More than a mere lover, much more than a friend

‘Tis the beginning, there will be no end.

[Exeunt]

                                                               CURTAIN

 Copyright B Purkayastha 2011