Education
By: Sylvance Posted on: July 28, 2004
EDUCATION
(a play by Sylvance DeFleur)
CHARACTERS
The Academie Students:
EAMONN A young Satyr with a Church background
GIANNA A studious and level-headed Tsol'aa girl
GORMON A good-natured and warm-hearted dwarf
ZHADE A larger-than-life human boy who aspires to greatness
YEMI A Horkval boy that has looks up to Zhade as a hero
SEELYA A Siren who has moved to Cyrene recently from Jaru, and is having some trouble settling in
The Faculty:
ALDY A haughty and charming dragon, and the pet of POET LAUREATE
BARD LORD The head of the Bards Guild
POET LAUREATE The head of the Lyricist path in the Academie
Visitors:
CUTE GIRL A human girl from Eleusis, come to visit Caer Witrin
GWYNNE A Siren, and a Squire in the Maldaathi. Visits Cyrene to explore Caer Witrin, but also to visit her Clanmate, Seelya
Extras:
DEALER The blackjack card dealer in the Dancing Boar
BARDLET ONE An Academie student
BARDLET TWO An Academie student
BARDLET THREE An Academie student
BARMAN Barman in the Ram's Horn
WAITRESS A waitress at the Dancing Boar
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ACT I SCENE 1
A LECTURE HALL IN THE ACADEMIE OF FINE ARTS. DESKS ARE ARRANGED IN ROWS OF FOUR, WITH JUST ENOUGH SPACE BETWEEN THEM TO ALLOW UNRESTRICTED PASSAGE THROUGHOUT THE ROOM. THE DESKS ARE FILLED WITH A VARIETY OF STUDENTS, MOST SCRIBBLING FURIOUSLY ONTO THEIR PARCHMENTS AS POET LAUREATE WRITES A FLOWING SCRIPT ON THE BLACKBOARD AT THE HEAD OF THE CLASS. EAMONN, GIANNA, GORMON, SEELYA AND ZHADE SIT ON THE BACK ROW OF DESKS ENGAGED IN AN ANIMATED BUT WHISPERED CONVERSATION, TAKING LITTLE NOTE OF THE LECTURE THAT IS CURRENTLY BEING GIVEN.
POET LAUREATE: The transcendent Swashbuckler is a master of both offence and defence and will move seamlessly between the two as the situation requires, and without thought. He is accurate, stylish and deadly. So caught up is his foe in the mere act of attempting to strike him, that the Swashbuckler is able to weave his practical knowledge of this school with those of the other two Bardic skills.
ZHADE (WHISPER):Yes, and failing that, the Bard is able to put his foe to sleep with a long, drawn out lecture (YAWNS THEATRICALLY).
EAMONN, GORMON AND SEELYA TRY TO STIFLE THEIR LAUGHTER, BUT ATTRACT THE ATTENTION OF POET LAUREATE. GIANNA LOOKS AT THE THREE OF THEM AND SHAKES HER HEAD IMPATIENTLY.
POET LAUREATE: Something that the three of you would care to share with the class, perhaps? No? (PAUSE) Okay, if you would all now refer to the Swashbuckling 102 scrolls, to the section on Footwork. Yes, I know that you were to read this as homework, but no doubt Zhade and Eamonn will have been too busy reminding the world what absolute prodigies they are to do anything as unfashionable as reading. The rest of you will benefit from a brief refresher. Whilst you read, I shall go and attend a Guild matter. I shall return in five minutes. There will be no need for talking.
EXIT POET LAUREATE
EAMONN: Who wants to bet five credits that this 'Guild matter' is taking place at Sam's Bar?
ZHADE: Oh, I shall make a cynic of you one day, Eamonn, on my rapier!
SEELYA GIGGLES
GIANNA: (LOOKS IRRITABLY UP FROM HER SCROLL) Be quiet, prithee. There are some members of the Academie that actually attend with the goal of working.
GORMON: (LAUGHS) If ye studies any harder, me lass, ye'll've graduated before th'end o'the flippin' month!
GIANNA: Yes, well…
EAMONN: Say, does anyone want to come and see my plot later on?
SEELYA: You bought a plot? In Cyrene? That's wonderful! How did you manage to save so quickly for it?
EAMONN: Quickly? I've been saving for nearly two years!
ZHADE: I said that you could have had one of mine. I have two on the waterfront that I never use.
EAMONN: Yes, and I said that I was quite happy to buy my own in the cheap area. (TO SEELYA) So, do you fancy having a look at lunchtime?
SEELYA: Oh, Eamonn, I'd love to but I already made plans with Gianna. You free later at all?
EAMONN: Yes, how about after Survival 101 this afternoon?
ZHADE: Perfect. I should be back from Azdun by then.
EAMONN: Oh, no need to rush back. Is it you and Yemi? That boy would follow you into Mhaldor if you asked him to. My parents would call it hero-worship.
ZHADE: Yes, well the Shallamese always did view the world as black and white. Is it so bad for me to take my Bardlet out bashing? It's always good to have someone watching your back.
EAMONN: I think he spends less time watching your back than your backside, personally…
SEELYA: Eamonn!
EAMONN: I'm just saying, petal. (WINKS AT ZHADE) You never know with these Ashtanites.
ZHADE: (FEIGNING INSULT) I am deeply offended by your words, sir, and I demand satisfaction!
ZHADE LEAPS TO HIS FEET, DRAWS HIS RAPIER AND SLASHES AT EAMONN, WHO SOMERSAULTS BACKWARDS OUT OF HIS CHAIR TO AVOID THE BLOW, AND LANDS SMARTLY ON HIS FEET. THE ACADEMIE STUDENTS ALL TURN TO WATCH THE SPECTACLE WITH AWED ANTICIPATION, MOVING THEIR DESKS QUICKLY OUT OF THE WAY TO GIVE THE TWO ROOM. EAMONN AND ZHADE SALUTE EACH OTHER CRISPLY AND SIMULTANEOUSLY, AND BEGIN TO CIRCLE, SMILING CONSPIRATORIALLY YET DETERMINEDLY AT ONE ANOTHER.
EAMONN: Stand down, that man, and I shall forget this churlishness and allow you to return home tonight.
ZHADE: And how should I sleep tonight with the knowledge that a craven, cretinous cur has escaped the justice of my blade?
GIANNA: Be seated and cease this foolishness, the pair of ye. My Lady will be wroth indeed if she walks in on this boyish behaviour.
EAMONN: Please do not distract the human, fair lady. Already his mind is in a hundred debauched places, and I would not wish to give him an extra excuse for the beating he is about to suffer.
ZHADE: No more talk, boy; my weapon cries out to be plunged into you! Have at thee!
THE TWO ENGAGE EACH OTHER IN AN IMPRESSIVE DISPLAY OF FENCING. A MURMUR OF EXCITEMENT RISES FROM THE RAPT AUDIENCE. WHILST IT IS CLEAR THAT NEITHER OF THEM IS ATTEMPTING TO HARM THE OTHER, IT IS EQUALLY VISIBLE THAT THEY ARE VERY EVENLY MATCHED.
ENTER POET LAUREATE.
POET LAUREATE QUICKLY ASSESSES THE SITUATION, AND IS VISIBLY OUTRAGED. SHE PULLS HER LUTE FROM ITS SLING ON HER SHOULDER AND SENDS OUT AN OVERWHELMING BLAST OF MUSIC, KNOCKING BOTH EAMONN AND ZHADE OFF THEIR FEET.
POET LAUREATE: (SHOUT) What on Sapience do you two think you are doing?
ZHADE: (RISING) We were just prac-
POET LAUREATE: That was rhetorical! In all my time at the Academie I have never seen such disgraceful behaviour! Eamonn Goodchild, what would your parents, high-ranking and respected members of The Church, say if they knew that their eldest son was swordfighting in class?
EAMONN: (RISING) We-
POET LAUREATE: That was rhetorical! Zhade D'Splay, you were also brought up better than this! You are both a disgrace to the Academie. I have never been so disgusted in all my life; the pair of you will give me ten-thousand words on the proper and appropriate use of Bardic skills by tomorrow noon, and I never want to see anything like this again. Do I make myself clear?
SOME CONTENT SNIGGERING AT THE TWO FROM AROUND THE ROOM.
POET LAUREATE: And the rest of you will give me five-thousand words on the role and necessity of the audience to a performance. I am absolutely revolted. This lesson is over.
EXIT POET LAUREATE
THERE IS A MOMENT OF INACTION BEFORE EVERYBODY BEGINS TO HASTILY MOVE THEIR DESKS BACK, PACK UP THEIR BELONGINGS AND QUICKLY, QUIETLY LEAVE THE ROOM. THE GROUP MEETS BRIEFLY AT THE FRONT OF THE CLASSROOM.
GIANNA: Are ye two idiots now satisfied? My workload has just increased thrice-fold!
GORMON: Well then ‘ows about dropping one o' yer eight electives?
GIANNA: And thou had best stay out of this, Gormon.
SEELYA: Let's just forget this. Miss had a point; they wouldn't have been acting like idiots if there hadn't been an audience.
ZHADE: Yes, quite. I was a victim in this!
SEELYA: Don't push your luck, Zhade. What are you all doing the night after next? It's m-
ZHADE: Yemi and I are going to take a trip to Ulangi. I promised to show him the lepers.
GIANNA: I need to get back to the Aalen to see my family at some point.
EAMONN: I am also returning to Shallam to see my parents.
GORMON: I'll be meetin' some friends in the Ram's 'orn, if'n ye fancy it. Anyways, I'm starvin' an' it's lunchtime!
AMONGST GENERAL AGREEMENT, EVERYONE BUT SEELYA EXITS.
SEELYA: (SIGH) Yes, why should I expect
My friends to remember my birthday?
Social, Academic, Personal:
A triumvirate of necessities,
Unresolvable, unreasoning.
Must I choose between Integrity,
Friendship and Excellence
Or merely resolve to dally in
The three? A Siren with no
Wish to be an object of lust,
A girl who would be liked by all,
A Metrist who dreams of fascinating
Sapience with the strength of her words.
A tripartite woman. Will I ever find
Oneness, or drift on forever in this
Prison, this three-sided limbo?
EXIT SEELYA
CURTAIN
ACT I SCENE 2
THE MARKET PLACE. THE LIGHTING IS WARM BUT NOT TOO HARSH, AND THE CRIES OF VENDORS FILLS THE AIR. A FEW CHILDREN RUN HERE AND THERE AT PLAY, AND A NUMBER OF PEOPLE MILL TO AND FRO, BROWSING THE VARIOUS GOODS ON OFFER.
ENTER EAMONN, YEMI AND ZHADE.
EAMONN: Personally, I am more concerned about the fact that the entire class is going to want our heads for getting them that extra work. I suggest we both keep a low profile. You do know what a low profile is, yes?
ZHADE: (SHRUGS) It will have blown over by tomorrow. It might be an idea to avoid Guildhall for a little while, though. She was right about one thing; if your parents find out about this they will not be best pleased. And I think that our trip to Azdun will have to wait until tomorrow, little man.
YEMI: I can help you with your essay instead if you want, Zhade. I can find all of the references for you or go and find some kola nuts.
EAMONN (WHISPER): Yes, he will probably need his arse wiped at least twice this evening as well. I had planned to take Seelya to my plot later on, but I doubt I shall have time now…
ZHADE: Or just to take her?
EAMONN: What?
ZHADE: Nothing.
YEMI LAUGHS.
EAMONN: Well, I am going to get started on that darned essay straight after lunch, anyway.
ENTER CUTE GIRL.
ZHADE SPOTS HER ALMOST INSTANTLY AND STANDS SLIGHTLY STRAIGHTER.
ZHADE: Look sharp, chaps. Yemi, stand back and observe. Eamonn, say a prayer of forgiveness for me. (LOUD) Yes, and about a moment later the Beastlord appeared with a face like thunder.
IN THE BACKGROUND, CUTE GIRL TURNS TO LISTEN TO ZHADE'S TALE.
ZHADE: I gave him a good DoubleJabbing, of course, beat him down, and took the key. Ten minutes later I had saved the damsel and returned her to Lotash, and all was well.
YEMI CHEERS WILDLY AT ZHADE.
EAMONN: So I guess that she was quite grateful, yes? I mean, I know how many women you can get through in a week, so I suppose it is no surprise that this one was on her back and gaping for you within minutes.
ZHADE FEIGNS A LOOK OF SHOCKED OUTRAGE.
ZHADE: I find the mere idea of that highly offensive, Eamonn. If you followed the teachings of the Church more closely you would realise that such carnal preoccupations only serve to-
CUTE GIRL: Excuse me, could I trouble you for a moment please?
ZHADE TURNS TO HER, POSITIONING HIMSELF BETWEEN HER AND THE OTHER TWO.
ZHADE: Why, of course. You are not from around here are you? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Zhade D'Splay, a recent citizen of this fair city. How can I be of service to you?
CUTE GIRL: (SMILES) I did not realise that Cyrenian men were so dashing. I am Jaynne Scharme from Eleusis. Where is the best place to eat around here?
ZHADE: Ah, the Café Rumnic, without a shadow of a doubt, though don't tell Sam I said that. Head east to Centre Crossing, and then south. It will be on your right; you cannot miss it. So, what brings such a pleasant young lady as yourself to humble Cyrene?
EAMONN (WHISPER): Oh, well that is just obvious. She came here all the way from the bloody Ithimia just to see you, Zhade…
CUTE GIRL: I came here to visit Caer Witrin and pay my respects.
ZHADE: Ah, yes! I am taking a trip there tomorrow at some point. Perhaps we could head there together, you know, safety in numbers and all that.
CUTE GIRL: That would be great!
ZHADE: Marvellous. Well, I shall come and knock you up later on to arrange it, shall I? Just jot down the address of where I can find you and we can get that sorted. (CLICKING) Eamonn, a pen.
EAMONN LOOKS AT HIM IN AFFRONTED DISBELIEF, THEN A MISCHIEVOUS LOOK CROSSES HIS FEATURES. HE PULLS A QUILL FROM HIS PACK, GETS A FLAME-SIGIL, AND QUICKLY ATTACHES IT TO THE IMPLEMENT.
EAMONN (WHISPER): I shall give you a bloody pen alright.
ZHADE: (TO CUTE GIRL) Okay, well I hope-
HE TAKES THE PEN FROM EAMONN, AND CRIES OUT IN SURPRISE AS THE FLAME-SIGIL SINGES HIS FINGERS. SWEARING, HE DROPS THE PEN TO THE GROUND AND NURSES HIS FINGERS.
CUTE GIRL ATTEMPTS TO STIFLE A LAUGH, BUT SOON FALLS ABOUT HERSELF IN AMUSEMENT, AND ZHADE TURNS TO EAMONN AND SHOOTS HIM A LOOK OF INDIGNANT REPROACH.
ZHADE: (TO CUTE GIRL) Look, sorry about that, my friend does not get out much. Can I meet you somewhere perhaps?
CUTE GIRL: (STILL LAUGHING) I'll probably see you around later maybe.
EXIT CUTE GIRL.
ZHADE: (TO EAMONN) What in Beladonna's Keep was that!?
EAMONN: What was all that clicking at me for? I am not your sidekick, Zhade. Talk to your Bardlet like one of your servants if you will, but if you want something from me you can ask for it. Anyways, I think that I will get a start on that essay…
EXIT EAMONN
YEMI: Bad luck, Zhade. I'm sure you'll get her later; you get all the girls. I'm gonna be late for my interview anyway.
ZHADE: Okay, well best of luck, Yemi. You will knock them dead.
EXIT YEMI
ZHADE: Okay, Eamonn, touché. Let the games commence.
CURTAIN
ACT I SCENE 3
THE BARDS' GUILDHALL COMMON ROOM. THE PLACE IS EMPTY, SAVE FOR GIANNA AND SEELYA, AND A WINDOW IN THE ROOM SHOWS THAT IT IS STILL DAYTIME. THE TWO SEEM QUITE INTENT ON WHAT THEY ARE WRITING ON THEIR ROLLS OF PARCHMENT, AND FOR A WHILE THE ONLY SOUNDS ARE THAT OF THE SCRATCHING OF QUILLS.
AFTER A MOMENT, SEELYA PUTS DOWN HER QUILL AND GAZES VACANTLY INTO THE YONDER.
GIANNA LOOKS UP AT HER, A SLIGHT FROWN ON HER FEATURES.
GIANNA: I cannot imagine that thou hast finished already, Seelya.
SEELYA: What? Oh, no, I was just thinking.
GIANNA: I doubt that that will be accepted as adequate mitigation shouldst thou fail to complete that piece by the morrow.
SEELYA: D'you ever think about settling down, Gianna?
GIANNA: Settling down? (SMILES) Hark at thee, child! Not yet two-score years and already you look to marriage!
SEELYA: No, not marriage, but just a serious relationship.
GIANNA: There is another type?
SEELYA: Yes, there is. Especially for one whose entire race is seen by some as mere playthings. Only last week a Jester in Delos asked me if I was looking for Mr Right or Mr Right Now!
GIANNA: (GASPS) That is disgraceful!
SEELYA: Not as bad as the Mhaldoran who offered to play Hide-the-Salami with me…
GIANNA: Yes, well… What more expects thou from a citizen of that fell city?
SEELYA: Gianna, that isn't fair. You cannot categorise Mhaldorans any more than Sirens or Tsol'aa. Some of them are really nice.
GIANNA: Thou speakst, no doubt, of that Maldaathi that thou hast convinced thyself is a friend. Truly, all people are different, but flames are unique also, and yet always hot.
SEELYA: Look, you've written enough satirical pieces on Shallam to know that things on Sapience are not so clear-cut. Gwynne is coming to Cyrene tomorrow to visit Caer Witrin. It would be nice if the pair of you could meet each other.
GIANNA: Such cheek! Darest a Mhaldoran walk into my Lord's city? Thou art entitled to thine opinion, Seelya, but I shall have no part in this whatsoever.
GIANNA POINTEDLY RETURNS TO HER PARCHMENT AND CONTINUES WRITING FOR A WHILE. SHE LOOKS UP AFTER A FEW SENTENCES AT SEELYA, WHO IS STILL DAYDREAMING.
GIANNA: (SIGH) 'Tis Zhade, isn't it?
SEELYA: What makes you think that?
GIANNA: The way that thou giggle at all of his jokes, and gaze longingly into his eyes. One might imagine thee imagining a scene in which he wears nothing but a number of treats from the sweete shoppe, and thou hast no spoon.
SEELYA: Is it that obvious?
GIANNA: Yes, 'tis! Prithee, what seest thou in that boy? Surely one who needs so badly to be the centre of attention must be overcompensating for something.
SEELYA: Hey! Stop that talk right now. (DREAMY SMILE) Just imagine though… Being on Zhade's arm as we walk down Spirit Lane together. I'd be the girlfriend of the most popular guy in the Guild; he might even be Bard Lord one day.
GIANNA: Truly, thou needst rethink thy self-image, young lady…
SEELYA: Is it really that obvious?
ENTER GORMON
GORMON: Is what so obvious?
SEELYA: Nothing!
GORMON: Is this about ye fancyin' Zhade, by any chance?
GIANNA: (LAUGHS) There! 'Tis not just me!
GORMON: By Lady Selene, no! Th'ole Acad'mie sits an' watches ye gaze and faun t'im. I thought I'd 'ave te remind ye te breathe a coupla times this morning.
SEELYA: Stop it! Is it really that obvious?
GORMON: I heard one o' th'Entrants saying he was gonna buy a Bookkeeping license jus' te run a sweepstake on how long it'd take ye te work up the courage t'ask 'im out!
GIANNA: Stop teasing her, Gormon. And besides, no matter how infatuated she is with him, Seelya would not be foolish enough to court such a rascal as our Zhade. Wouldst thou, Seelya?
SEELYA: ...
GORMON: (LAUGHS) Yeah, fer sure, keep an eye on that boy. He'll 'ave y'orizontal an' quivering before ye know it. I doubt there's a city on the continent without at least one wee lass waiting t'ear from 'im. But then, if ye wanted a steady and constant man ye'd've picked up on th'eye Eamonn's got fer ye.
SEELYA: What?
GORMON: Come on; ye must've noticed 'e's taken a real fancy te ye!
SEELYA: Eamonn!?
GORMON: Yep. Ye know that Satyr's 'n' Sirens 're all but made f'eachother. If that boy doesn't ‘ave a mind to courtin' ye I'll eat me 'at!
GIANNA: (SMILES AT GORMON) Right, off with thee. We two were working most prolifically before thine arrival two minutes ago. Now we are gossiping about our friends.
GORMON: Ye take yerself too seriously, that lass!
GORMON SPRINGS FORWARD AND PULLS GIANNA OUT OF HER SEAT WITH AMAZING GRACE, AND WHIRLS HER AROUND THROUGH A SERIES OF FLORID DANCE STEPS.
GIANNA: (LAUGHING) Unhand me at once, Gormon! I mean it! I shall snub thee otherwise!
GORMON TWILRS HER ONCE MORE BEFORE DROPPING HER GENTLY BACK INTO HER SEAT.
GORMON: Okay, have fun wi'th'essay. Sylvance, I hope ye makes the right choice.
WITH A WINK AND A BOW, GORMON BACKFLIPS OUT OF THE ROOM.
SEELYA: So, what is going on between you two, then?
GIANNA: I suggest that we press on with this essay, young lady.
ENTER ALDY
ALDY FLYS INTO THE ROOM AND TAKES A QUICK CIRCLE AROUND THE CEILING BEFORE LANDING PROMPTLY BEFORE SEELYA.
ALDY: Seelya, Xan wants you in her office. I want you in my chambers, but I guess that will have to wait.
SEELYA: Me?
ALDY LOOKS AROUND THE ROOM TWICE.
ALDY: Oh, my mistake. The other Seelya.
SEELYA: Yes, okay, very good. What is it?
ALDY: One way to find out. If you're asking whether or not you're in trouble, I'd put my money on 'YES'. It might help your case if I can tell her that you gave me a kiss or two.
SEELYA: Is it about my Social Graces essay?
ALDY: It might also help if you bring her some cognac. She likes cognac.
ALDY PULLS A MIRROR FROM BEHIND ONE OF HIS SCALES AND ADMIRES HIMSELF FOR A MOMENT, BEFORE WINKING AT SEELYA, TURNING AND EXITING.
SEELYA: Well, this sounds like fun...
GIANNA: I should beg to differ. Judging from the Poet's earlier mood, thou would do well to sing a protective tune before entering her room…
SEELYA: Thanks, Gianna.
GIANNA: No problem.
SEELYA PUTS DOWN HER QUILL AND EXITS.
CURTAIN
ACT I SCENE 4
A SPACIOUS OFFICE. THE WALLS ARE LINED WITH SHELVES, GROANING BENEATH THE WEIGHT OF BOOKS OF ALL SHAPES AND SIZES. POET LAUREATE SITS BEHIND THE LARGE OAKEN DESK IN THE ROOM, AND ALDY SITS NEXT TO HER. HE WAGGLES HIS EYEBROWS AT SEELYA AS SHE ENTERS, AND SHE POINTEDLY IGNORES HIM.
POET LAUREATE: Please take a seat, Seelya.
SEELYA SITS ON THE CHAIR OPPOSITE POET LAUREATE.
POET LAUREATE: And don't look so worried; you're not in trouble. To get straight to the point: I am slightly concerned about the quality of your work for the last few weeks. If I were truly cynical I might imagine that this happened almost precisely around the time that you started keeping your current company.
SEELYA: I'm sorry. I'll take a care to improve this at once, miss.
POET LAUREATE: This is not a matter of whether or not you're sorry, Seelya. The sub-standard work that you have been submitting will count towards your final grade in the Academie, and that will not change. You will still pass if you continue on like this, but you should be doing much better than that. What happened to the young lady who earned my Guildfavour for her first essay?
SEELYA: I took a little time out from my Swash and Social Graces studies to make some friends at the Academie, and now that I have them I'll concentrate on my work again.
POET LAUREATE: It is not just in my classes. The other Versifiers have commented also. What you choose to do with your time at the Academie is your decision to make, but it would be a real shame to see your talents go to waste.
ALDY PULLS A FACE AT SEELYA, WHO CONTINUES TO IGNORE HIM. POET LAUREATE LOOKS DOWN AT HIM FROM HER SEAT, AND HE QUICKLY RESUMES A NORMAL COUNTENANCE.
SEELYA: My work will improve, Miss, and straight away. I have dreamed always of my words being read across the continent, and that has not changed. I will realise this goal, on my father's grave. I do not wish to choose between my work and my friends, but if the choice must be made then… well, it must be made.
POET LAUREATE PERUSES HER FOR A MOMENT, THEN NODS, SEEMINGLY SATISFIED.
POET LAUREATE: Okay, Seelya. I am glad to hear that. If you are having any problems please do come to see me. And do not let Zhade and Eamonn be the reason that you disappoint yourself.
SEELYA: Thank you, miss.
EXIT SEELYA.
CURTAIN
ACT I SCENE 5
THE IMPERIUM GARDENS AT NIGHT. A LIGHT BLANKET OF SNOW FALLS, AND THE ODD PULSE OF FIREFLIES CAN BE SEEN AT IRREGULAR INTERVALS. EAMONN, GIANNA, GORMON AND ZHADE ARE HUDDLED CONSPIRATORIALLY BENEATH THE TREES.
GORMON FUSSES WITH A PIPE AND TINDERBOX, AND, UNSUCCESSFUL IN LIGHTING THE ONE WITH THE OTHER, SWEARS AND PUTS THEM AWAY IN HIS PACK. HE LOOKS ENVIOUSLY AT EAMONN, WHO IS PUFFING CONTENTLY AWAY AT HIS OWN, LIT PIPE.
GIANNA: Verily, that is a disgusting habit, Gormon. And bad for thy health also. Thou should consider giving it up, prithee.
GORMON: I'll give up me pipe when ye gives up yer Electives and spends a li'l more time socialising.
GIANNA: Yes, well…
EAMONN: Let us get this sorted, shall we? I would do well to get out of this foul weather soon and tucked up in my bed. Is everything going according to plan?
GIANNA: Absolutely. She suspects nothing at all; she is convinced that we have forgotten her birthday altogether.
ZHADE: Excellent. This party is going to be the talk of the town! Pity we could not find another venue for it; I have a few Runewarden buddies who would like to come along.
GORMON: (STILL LOOKING LONGINGLY AT EAMONN'S PIPE) Why not ask one o' the Guild Secs?
ZHADE: Yes, that would be a great idea after this morning's events. Nevermind; does everyone know what they need to be doing tomorrow?
GIANNA: I shall be informing the rest of the Acadamie about the time and venue of the party, and applying thumb screws to the few people that will want to stay at home and do coursework.
GORMONN: I'll be sortin' the food 'n' dec'rations fer the party, and getting' it there after hours.
EAMONN: And I shall keep Seelya away from the area whilst he does it. Which leaves Zhade-
ZHADE: -to get some snow blossoms from Caer Witrin in order to make a bouquet of her favourite flowers. Marvellous. This should run like clockwork. She will be truly chuffed.
GORMONN: (GAZING AT EAMONN'S PIPE) This meeting's adjourned
CURTAIN
-------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT II SCENE 1
THE STEPS LEADING DOWN TO THE GARDENS. A LARGE NUMBER OF ACADEMIE STUDENTS SIT AROUND WAITING FOR THE ACADEMIC DAY TO BEGIN. A LOUD MURMER FILLS THE AREA.
SEELYA, YEMI AND ZHADE STAND AT THE TOP OF THE STEPS CHATTING AMICABLY.
ZHADE: I knew that you would ace it!
SEELYA: Yeah, congratulations, Yemi! Looking forward to a back-breaking workload and just enough sparring privileges to show you just how weak you are in the grand scheme of things?
ZHADE: When I have finished with this young man even the Dragons will quiver at the mere mention of his name. We will win every Free-For-All and have honours lists so long that they will need help files!
SEELYA GIGGLES.
SEELYA: Say, maybe you could help me with my reflexes sometime, Zhade. I seem to lose every spar because I'm being beaten to death whilst I rummage through the Rift for some herb or other.
ZHADE: Yes, problem not, my sweet young lady. Eamonn's going to be late again, it seems. I really would not want to be him walking into Lyrical Studies late today. Xan will have his guts for-
ENTER CUTE GIRL
SHE WALKS LEISURELY PAST THE GROUP, LOOKS AT ZHADE AND INSTANTLY FALLS INTO UNCONTROLLABLE LAUGHTER.
EXIT CUTE GIRL
ZHADE: I shall be right back.
EXIT ZHADE
SEELYA: Who was that?
YEMI: One of his women, I think. He was chatting her up yesterday, but Eamonn blew it for him. It was well out of order.
ENTER ZHADE
HE WALKS BACK UP TO SEELYA AND YEMI, LOOKING FAIRLY ANNOYED AND MUTTERING TO HIMSELF.
YEMI: No luck?
ZHADE: Button it, boy. Ah, there is the bastard himself.
ENTER EAMONN FROM THE SKIES, ATOP AN IMPRESSIVE, RADIANT PEGASUS. AN AWED GASP GOES UP FROM THE ASSEMBLED ACADEMIE MEMBERS, AND ALL EYES ARE ON HIM IN MOMENTS.
HE BRINGS THE STEED DOWN GRACEFULLY, LANDING BEFORE HIS FRIENDS, AND THE BACKGROUND CHATTER FALLS TO AN IMPRESSED, CURIOUS MURMUR.
EAMONN: Good morning, all. Fancy a lift, Seelya?
SEELYA STEPS FORWARD, HER MOUTH AGAPE AT THE CREATURE, AND PETS IT GRATIATINGLY.
SEELYA: It's beautiful… Where on Sapience did you get hold of such a creature?
EAMONN: My parents won him in a Church raffle, but they have no need for him. All mine now. Hop on up and I shall show you Cyrene from the skies.
ZHADE (WHISPER): I think the dish is cold enough now…
ZHADE STANDS UP STRAIGHT, FILLING HIS LUNGS WITH A SINGLE SHARP BREATH, AND BEGINS TO SING IN HIS RESONANT BARITONE. THE SONG IS STRONG AND RHYTHMIC, EVOKING IMAGES OF AN ARMY MARCHING. EAMONN'S STEED BEGINS TO BRAY AND BUCK IN PANIC, AND THE SATYR QUICKLY ATTEMPTS TO CALM IT DOWN WITH SOOTHING WORDS. UPON ITS REARING BACK, HE IS UNABLE TO HOLD ON, AND HE IS THROWN TO THE GROUND WHERE HE LANDS HEAVILY ON HIS BACKSIDE.
THE CROWD ROARS OUT WITH LAUGHTER, AND AMIDST THE RACKET THE PEGASUS TURNS WILDLY AND CANTERS FROM THE SCENE.
ZHADE: Oops, sorry about that, old boy. Forgot about that unfortunate effect.
EAMONN GETS TO HIS FEET AMIDST THE TUMULTUOUS LAUGHTER, HIS FEATURES RED WITH OUTRAGE. HE TAKES AN ANGRY STEP TOWARDS ZHADE.
EAMONN: You...! You..!
TURNING ON HIS HEEL, HE STORMS OFF IN ABSOLUTE FURY.
EXIT EAMONN
SEELYA: (LAUGHING) Zhade, that was rotten. You had better go and apologise; if Miss hears of this you'll be in even more trouble.
YEMI: No way! He deserves that for screwing up your moves yesterday.
ZHADE: Yes, he will be fine in an hour or two.
ZHADE TURNS TO THE CROWD AND DRAWS HIS RAPIER IN A CRISP SALUTE. THE CROWD GOES MAD, AND CHEERS HIM WILDLY.
THE TRIO WALKS DOWN THE STEPS TOWARDS THE ACADEMIE, AND THE CROWD PARTS IN THEIR WAKE, STILL ENGAGED IN DEAFENING APPLAUSE.
CURTAIN
ACT II SCENE 2
THE SUBDIVISION. IT IS RAINING EXTREMELY HEAVILY, AND THE SKY HAS DARKENED CONSIDERABLY, LIT ONLY BY INTERMITTENT FORKS OF LIGHTNING.
ENTER EAMONN, HIS RAPIER DRAWN.
EAMONN PACES TO AND FRO, MUTTERING BITTERLY TO HIMSELF, AND SEEMINGLY UNAWARE OF THE DOWNPOUR.
EAMONN: On my life, my honour, my Church I swear vengeance for this, Zhade! Before my peers and My Lady You have made a fool of me, and this insult will burn me to my last meeting with the Logos. All that you hold dear I swear to take from you, and all that you have built I will tear down before your eyes. Mhaldor will wince at your fate from now until Doomsday, and those in the deepest recesses of the Pit will wipe their brows in relief that they are there and not in the tormented, unending Hell that you will reside in. By my God, I shall end the life of excess and ease that you have been given. Your parents' fortune has corrupted and spoiled you. To you it is as if all Sapience is yours for the taking, and I shall rid the continent of this curse if it is my last living act. Zhade, all that you stand for, I do renounce.
EXIT EAMONN
CURTAIN
ACT II SCENE 3
THE CAFÉ RUMINIC AT LUNCH TIME. MOST OF THE TABLES ARE FILLED, AND A WAITRESS MOVES FROM TABLE TO TABLE TO TAKE ORDERS. GWYNNE SITS AT A TABLE, READING FROM A SCROLL, A FAINT SMILE PLAYING ACROSS HER LIPS.
ENTER SEELYA, LOOKING QUITE HAPPY WITH HERSELF.
SEELYA SPOTS GWYNNE AND WALKS OVER TO THE TABLE, TAKING A SEAT.
SEELYA: Gwynne! How are you? It's great to finally meet you in person!
GWYNNE: Hello, Seelya. I am good, and you? Quite a nice city you have here. Very pretty.
SEELYA: Yes. How long are you staying for?
GWYNNE: (SHRUGS) A couple of days. I will head up to Caer Witrin tonight or tomorrow to explore the place. I hear that there are some interesting quests there indeed.
THE WAITRESS APPROACHES THE PAIR.
GWYNNE: Steak for me, and a coffee, please.
SEELYA: I'll have the turkey and a cocoa. Thanks.
THE WAITRESS MOVES OFF TO PLACE THE ORDER.
GWYNNE: So, are you still chasing this young Don Juan?
SEELYA: He really isn't that bad, Gwynne. Most other men make lewd comments and advances, but he is different. Others feel that they can do whatever they want, with no regard for my feelings.
GWYNNE: People do not do what they want, Seelya. They do what you let them. Nobody would be foolish enough to be so disrespectful to me, but if they did I would kill them in an instant.
SEELYA: (PAUSE) It must be nice to have the power to defend your honour so easily.
GWYNNE: (SHRUGS) I see no reason why you can't. Spend a little more time learning Weaponry and a little less with your head stuffed in books. Are you entering the Bardic this month?
SEELYA: Yes, definitely. I've hit a bit of a block, is all.
GWYNNE: That man, I should imagine. He is your block, Seelya. He is your weakness.
SEELYA: I love him!
GWYNNE: But not yourself. Really, you would do well to read the Seven Truths of My Lord.
SEELYA: (SHUDDERS) I think I'll pass on that.
GWYNNE: A shame, really. You would learn much from it. I am sure that your upbringing and friends have taught you about how wicked the Truths are, but you would benefit from them. There's no excuse for weakness whatsoever.
SEELYA: What weakness is there in love, Gwynne?
GWYNNE: What weakness? Are you being serious? Look at you: you haven't entered the Bardic in three months, you let men walk all over you, and you clearly haven't been eating properly. You're a Siren, girl! I've seen Tsol'aa with more curves on them!
SEELYA: And how would the Seven Truths change any of that? They are evil.
GWYNNE: Then I am evil.
SEELYA: You are not! Nobody that's evil could appreciate Art, let alone be such a skilled expresser of it. I've read your poetry and seen your art a hundred times; you are not evil.
GWYNNE: Make no mistake, Seelya; if anybody, and that includes you, were to stand between me and my goals, I would kill them without a thought. (PAUSE) I challenge you to read the Truths and not take a good, long look at yourself. I do not blame you for your weakness; it's the bane of our entire race. Weak and not even concerned about it. The apathetic, ornamental, cancerous laughing stock of Sapience.(PAUSE) I am thinking about petitioning My Lord for resurrection.
SEELYA: Gwynne! How could you? What of our sisters?
GWYNNE: I won't help people that won't help themselves, Seelya. I've been thinking about it a while, now. My own bloody art is suffering. I've had not so much as a mention in the Artisanal in almost two months.
THE WAITRESS COMES WITH THEIR ORDERS, AND THE TWO SIT IN UNCOMFORTABLE SILENCE FOR A MOMENT WHILST SHE LAYS OUT THE TABLE. THE WAITRESS GOES OFF ABOUT HER BUSINESS, AND THE TWO THANK HER QUIETLY BEFORE EATING AWHILE IN SILENCE.
SEELYA: I will read the Truths.
GWYNNE: (PAUSE) Good. And I will think about how to shove a firecracker up the arse of the entire Siren race.
CURTAIN
ACT II SCENE 4
THE IMPERIUM GARDENS. THE WEATHER HAS CLEARED UP, AND THE SUN SHINES WEAKLY, ON THE SCENE. THE SOUNDS OF CRICKETS AND TRILLING SONGBIRDS PERVADE THE AREA.
EAMONN, GIANNA, GORMON, YEMI AND ZHADE HUDDLE AROUND IN CONVERSATION.
ZHADE: So everything is going according to plan? Gormon?
GORMON: (FIDDLING WITH HIS PIPE) Yep. All on track, 'sme. I placed th'order wi' the sweete shoppe this morning; she's pretty sure she can get it all done by tonight. And I've got doves flying in from all across Achaea with flowers, baubles and trinkets of ev'ry shape 'n' size.
GIANNA: Mine own part of the affair moves as smoothly as ever. The Academie is informed in its entirety, and the Bard Lord himself will be in attendance.
ZHADE: Marvellous. Are you good to keep her occupied this evening, Eamonn, or are you still sulking?
EAMONN: (SMILES) Oh, don't you worry about my part of the plan, my esteemed colleague. It will run just like clockwork. I shall make sure that the lady is in all the right places at all the right times.(LAUGHS)
EXIT EAMONN
GORMON: That boy's bin acting 'stremely queer this afternoon, if'n y'asks me.
YEMI: He's probably just still a little sore from his fall.
ZHADE LAUGHS.
GORMON: C'mon, Zhade. I knows ye don't take pride in hurtin' yer friends-
ZHADE BEGINS TO SPEAK, BUT GORMON STALLS HIM WITH A RAISED HAND.
GORMON: -and I know that he embarrassed you infronta one o' yer lasses, but droppin' 'im on 'is arse infronta the entire Academie's above 'n' beyond.
GIANNA: Not to mention the fact that Seelya was there!
GORMON: 'xac'ly. Yer really 'urt 'im this morning, whether 'e wants t'admit it or not.
ZHADE: Oh, come on, guys! I get one up on him and all of a sudden I am the worst friend in Cyrene!
GORMON: 'Tisn't just one up, and you know it. That boys lived in yer shadow since we started up at th'Acadamie, and yer always pickin' on ‘im; don't be tellin' me ye've forgot the time ye let a manticore loose durin' one o' 'is 'armonics presentations. Now swallow yer bloody pride and patch things up with'im, y'ear me?
ZHADE: (SIGHS) Yes, okay, you are right, Gormon. The next time I see him I shall make things up.
GORMON: Good.(PAUSE) Great. Okay, we've all got stuff te be getting' on wi', so I sugges' we gets cracking on it.
EXEUNT
CURTAIN
ACT II SCENE 5
THE CASINO OF THE DANCING BOAR. EAMONN SITS AT THE BLACKJACK TABLE, OPPOSITE DEALER, LOOKING SLIGHTLY FLUSTERED. IN THE BACKGROUND, GWYNNE STANDS AT THE ROULETTE TABLE MAKING SMALL, CALCULATED BETS.
EAMONN: Hit me.(KNOCKS BACK HIS DRINK)
HE IS DEALT A CARD
EAMONN: Hit me.
HE IS DEALT ANOTHER.
DEALER: Busted.
SHE COLLECTS HIS BET.
EAMONN: For the love of the Logos! This is a frigging joke! Barman! Get me another!
THE BARMAN BRINGS HIM ANOTHER DRINK.
DEALER: Place your bets!
EAMONN COUNTS OUT SOME GOLD FROM HIS PURSE.
EAMONN: Five-hundred sovereigns. Do me proud.
DEALER DEALS OUT THE CARDS.
DEALER: One or eleven, sir.
EAMONN: Marvellous (COUNTS OUT SOME MORE GOLD). Double me up! DEALER DEALS ANOTHER CARD.
DEALER: Twenty.
EAMONN: Stand.
DEALER DEALS HERSELF A CARD.
DEALER: Dealer gets Blackjack.
DEALER COLLECTS HIS BET.
EAMONN: For fuck's sake.(COUNTS OUT SOME MONEY) GWYNNE LOOKS UP AND WATCHES THE SCENE WITH AMUSED INTEREST. SHE COLLECTS HER MONEY FROM THE ROULETTE TABLE AND MOVES OVER TO THE BLACKJACK.
DEALER: Place your bets!
EAMONN: A thousand sovereigns!
DEALER: No more bets!
DEALER DEALS OUT THE CARDS.
DEALER: Twenty, sir.
EAMONN: Stand.
DEALER DEALS HERSELF A CARD.
DEALER: Dealer gets twenty-one.
DEALER COLLECTS HIS BET.
GWYNNE: With luck like that, I suggest you stay off the Highway.
EAMONN: You think this luck's bloody bad you should have a look down my pants. I'm Eamonn.
GWYNNE: (LAUGHS) Gwynne. You sound like a man who has seen better days. Or is that just the Satyrs' characteristic charm shining through?
EAMONN: Yes, well, if it wasn't for your race I wouldn't be feeling like this.
GWYNNE: Have a care, that man. You're treading dangerously close to an insult. I'd hate to be enemied to this fair city over the careless wording of a drunk.
EAMONN: Oh, take a swing, it couldn't make my day any worse. Ever wanted to screw someone so badly it hurt?
GWYNNE: Never.
EAMONN: Want a drink? It's not every day you get to chat with Maldaathi.
GWYNNE: Sure.
THE TWO MOVE OVER TO THE BAR, EAMONN ORDERS TWO DRINKS, HANDING ONE TO GWYNNE.
EAMONN: I mean, he's my friend and everything, but the guy's always got to steal the limelight, and now he's taken her away from me.
GWYNNE: So take her back. What is it with you Cyrenians?
EAMONN: He doesn't even love her, he just doesn't want me to have her.
GWYNNE: He sounds like an arse to me. Look, thanks for the drink, and all, but I have absolutely no time for love-sick fools this afternoon, and even less for those that would rather wallow in their self-pity than do something about the situation. (RISING) I hope it all works out for you.
EAMONN: But he's my friend!
GWYNNE: Would a friend treat you as badly as you say that he does?
EAMONN: No, but-
GWYNNE: Or go out of his way to make you feel like this?
EAMONN: No.
GWYNNE: Then draw your own conclusions, Eamonn. And a woman that can be taken from you by a pompous fool is worth as little as your luck at gambling. Good day.
EXIT GWYNNE
EAMONN: (SIGHS) What sad days are these That the words of Sartan's own ring so true?
CURTAIN
ACT II SCENE 6
THE BARDS' GUILDHALL COMMON ROOM. A FEW STUDENTS SIT AROUND CHATTING OR WORKING, AND GIANNA RUNS AROUND BETWEEN THEM, TALKING BRIEFLY AND THEN MOVING ON.
ENTER GORMON, LOOKING FLUSTERED.
GIANNA DEALS WITH ONE MORE BARD AND THEN COMES OVER TO HIM.
GORMON: Where the flippin' 'ell's that Satyr? I've got ten parcels to sneak into this 'ere Guildhall, and Seelya's walking around oblivious!
GIANNA: Certes, he will get here soon enough. Becalm thyself; there is plenty of time to do everything.
GORMON: (GRINS) Yeah, yer right, 's usual. So what're ye wearing t'morro' night?
GIANNA: (SMILE) Thou shalt have to wait and see.
GORMON: C'mon, gimme a hint at least.
GIANNA: Not a chance!
GORMON WIGGLES HIS FINGERS THREATENINGLY.
GIANNA: Don't thou dare!
GORMON TAKES A STEP TOWARDS HER, GRINNING MICHIEVOUSLY, FINGERS STILL AWIGGLE.
GIANNA: I am warning thee, Gormon! If thou tickles me I shall-
GORMON TICKLES GIANNA MERCILESSLY!
GIANNA ROLLS ON THE FLOOR, LAUGHING!
GIANNA: (LAUGHING) Gormon Kynde, get off of me this very instant! GORMON STOPS THE TICKLING AND PULLS GIANNA EASILY TO HER FEET. THE TWO LOOK AT EACH OTHER, LESS THAN A FOOT APART, AND THE SMILES FALL SLOWLY FROM THEIR FACES. THE PAIR GAZE INTO EACHOTHER'S EYES, AND THE COMMON ROOM HOLDS ITS BREATH.
ENTER EAMONN
EAMONN: Ah, therrre you aare, Eamonn. I mean Gorrmon (CLAPS GORMON HEAVILY ON THE BACK, ALMOST KNOCKING HIM OVER). You ready to get this shtuff moving?
GORMON LOOKS LONGINGLY AT GIANNA, WHO LOOKS AWKWARD, AND QUICKLY GETS BACK TO WORK.
GORMON: Are ye drunk, Eamonn? 'Snot even evenin' yet.
EAMONN: Do you wasn't, I mean want a hand or not? Where shall I take her?
GORMON: (SIGHS) Just keep 'er away from everywhere between Guildhall and the court'ouse. Take 'er on that bloody 'orse of yours. Yeah, take 'er out of Cyrene would be even better.
EAMONN: Oh, I shold Binky thish morning for ten-thoushand sovereigns. Was going to buy Seelya a present with it.
GORMON: Ye did what!? She'll kick yer arse if she finds that out! Go and buy that flippin' 'orse back this minute, Eamonn!
EAMONN: (GIGGLES) Can't. I had an accident in the casino.
GORMON: (SHOUTS) You what!? You bloody moron! I've 'alf a mind ter knock some sense inta yer 'ead! Go and get Seelya, you flippin' idiot! Take 'er to yer plot or summit, and sober the 'ell up!
EAMONN: Okay, I shhall take her to the Subdivision, but only for about half an hour. I thhink a storm is brewing.
EXEUNT
BLACK-OUT.
ACT II SCENE 7
THE SAME COMMON ROOM, ALTHOUGH NOW THE LIGHT HAS CHANGED TO THAT OF THE EVENING. WHALE-OIL LAMPS FILL THE ROOM WITH AN INTIMATE LIGHT. THE ROOM IS EMPTY SAVE FOR SEELYA AND YEMI, WHO SIT IN THE PLUSH SOFAS. YEMI HAS A NUMBER OF PARCHMENTS SPREAD OUT ON THE TABLE IN FRONT OF HIM, AND HIS SCRIBBLING ALL OVER THEM.
YEMI: What about Blade?
SEELYA: Blade reflects our capacity to defend ourselves, our honour and values, but also the way in which we choose to do so. The skilled Bard is able to use his voice, music and even his words to this end. Do you choose to defend defensively or offensively? Actively or passively? Do you stop the fight before it has started, or force it to escalate swiftly? Do you attack your foe with cold steel, or write a damning poem that attacks his actions, beliefs, his very morals?
YEMI: I bloody hate this subject.
SEELYA: Do you like being a Bard?
YEMI: I love being a Bard!
SEELYA: Then you love the Circle of Fifths. It is the very backbone of what the Bards are. I think that the very fact that it pervades our entire existence is the thing that makes it so confusing to some people.
YEMI: I bet Zhade aced this essay. He's good at everything.
SEELYA: (SMILES DREAMILY) Yes, he is.
YEMI: How long have you fancied him?
SEELYA: Yemi!
YEMI: Are you saying that you don't?
SEELYA: No, I mean, yes, I mean no!
YEMI: So why don't you tell him?
SEELYA: What would Zhade want with me? He's the most popular, the most handsome, the best Swashbuckler. He could have any girl he wanted.
YEMI: Damn straight. He could. And why shouldn't he want you?
SEELYA: ...
YEMI: You're pretty, smart. Crap at Swashbuckling and Geography, mind you, but then why do you need to be good at them?
SEELYA: Do you really think I'd have a chance with him?
YEMI: What have you got to lose by trying?
SEELYA: (PAUSE) If he turned me down it would kill me.
YEMI: You would be in exactly the same situation you're in now, only you'd know that he wasn't interested.
SEELYA: It's not that-
ENTER ZHADE
ZHADE: Hello, folks.
SEELYA AND YEMI: Hi
AN AWKWARD SILENCE
ZHADE: What's wrong?
SEELYA AND YEMI: Nothing!
ZHADE LOOKS AT THE PAIR SUSPICIOUSLY.
ZHADE: Come on, spit it out.
SEELYA: I need to find Gianna!
EXIT SEELYA
ZHADE: What the Hell was that all about?
YEMI: Nothing. I think the steak got to her.
ZHADE: Do not patronise me, Yemi. I was just about to take you ratting, but I guess I will just go on my own (TURNS TO LEAVE).
YEMI: No, wait! She fancies you. We were just talking about it before you came in.
ZHADE: (pause) (SMILES) Seelya fancies me?
YEMI: Badly.
ZHADE: (PAUSE) What an interesting idea. Yes, I suppose that it makes sense. (SHRUGS) Oh well. You coming? Jorj is up to his bloody eyeballs in work; he will be grateful for the help.
EXEUNT
CURTAIN
-------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT III SCENE 1
THE BARDS' LECTURE THEATRE. THE CLASS IS FILING IN AND CHATTERING BETWEEN THEMSELVES.
EAMONN, GIANNA, GORMON, YEMI AND ZHADE COME IN AND TAKE UP THEIR SEATS AT THE BACK.
YEMI PULLS A DESK FROM THE ROW IN FRONT AND PUTS IT AT THE END, NEXT TO ZHADE'S.
ZHADE: So everything is sorted for tonight save the cakes and the snow blossoms?
GORMON: The cakes're sorted. I jus' needs te pick'em up. You fancy gi'ing me 'and at lunch time, Yemi?
YEMI: Yeah, sure.
EAMONN: What should I do with madam?
ZHADE: Take her for a ride if your Pegasus has calmed down yet.
GIANNA: That is not funny, Zhade.
EAMONN: (POINTEDLY IGNORING HIM) I shall think of something. Here she comes; not a word about her birthday.
ENTER SEELYA
SHE SPIES THE GROUP AND APPROACHES, TAKING HER SEAT.
SEELYA: Good morning, all!
ZHADE: Hi. (TO GORMON) So I thought that it would make more sense to do the piece on the definition of leadership. Sort of an essay through a poem, as it were.
GORMON: Sounds good te me.
EAMONN: I need to get started on my Poetry 201 coursework. Say, are you free at lunch by any chance, Seelya?
SEELYA: Yes. 'Spose. No problem.
YEMI: What's wrong?
SEELYA: Nothing. Forget it.
EAMONN: Great. Meet me in the Lyceum, if you would.
GORMON: Ye still comin' out tonight wi' me an' the lads?
SEELYA: Look, guys, it's my b-
ENTER POET LAUREATE AND ALDY
POET LAUREATE: Well, to my utter surprise, everybody, including our two showmen, managed to get the essays in to me on time. For this reason, you will not all be writing my dictations verbatim for the whole of this lesson, but will be trusted with some practical work. Get into groups of three and…
SEELYA SIGHS LOUDLY.
CURTAIN
ACT III SCENE 2
BEFORE THE GUEST HOUSE IN THE SUBDIVISION. IT IS RAINING SLIGHTLY.
ENTER EAMONN
HE WALKS UP TO THE DOOR, LOOKING SUSPICIOUSLY AROUND HIM, AND KNOCKS SHARPLY ON IT.
A PAUSE.
HE KNOCKS AGAIN, SLIGHTLY LESS PATIENTLY.
THE DOOR OPENS SLIGHTLY, AND GWYNNE PEERS OUT AT HIM.
GWYNNE: Eamonn? What the bloody Hell are you doing here? (NARROWS EYES)
GWYNNE SWINGS THE DOOR OPEN. SHE IS HOLDING A BROADSWORD IN HER RIGHT HAND, AND BRANDISHES A LETTER IN HER LEFT.
GWYNNE: Did you just send me this blank letter?
EAMONN: Yes.
GWYNNE: (LOOKS SUSPICIOUSLY PAST HIM) Why? And how did you know where I'm staying?
EAMONN: Followed the dove. I need some Gleam.
GWYNNE: What?
EAMONN: I need some Gleam.
GWYNNE: You do realise that you could be punished and me enemied just for having this conversation, yes?
EAMONN: Yes, I do. That's why I'm offering you three times the market value for it.
GWYNNE: (RAISES AN EYEBROW) Keep talking.
EAMONN: But I need it by tonight.(HANDING HER A BAG OF GOLD) Please, Gwynne, this is important.
GWYNNE: Obviously. Meet me at the graveyard at dusk. And Eamonn?
EAMONN: Yes?
GWYNNE: If this turns out to be some ambush, or you breathe a word of it to anyone I'll be quite upset with you.
EAMONN: Cool. Right, I'd better dash; I need to get back to the post office.
GWYNNE: Yes, and I'm late for bloody breakfast. See you later.
GWYNNE CLOSES THE DOOR.
EXIT EAMONN
CURTAIN
ACT III SCENE 3
THE CAFÉ RUMINIC. IT IS FAIRLY EMPTY, SAVE FOR THE ODD PERSON EATING BREAKFAST.
SEELYA SITS AT A TABLE, ARMS FOLDED, LOOKING EXTREMELY UNHAPPY. ENTER GWYNNE, CARRYING A BRIGHTLY-COLOURED GIFT BOX. SHE HANDS IT TO SEELYA AND TAKES A SEAT.
GWYNNE: Happy birthday, young lady.
SEELYA'S FACE LIGHTS UP.
SEELYA: Oh, Gwynne! Thank you so much!
GWYNNE: No problem.
SEELYA OPENS UP THE BOX AND PULLS OUT AN EXQUISITE, BLACK SATIN DRESS.
SEELYA: It's beautiful…
GWYNNE: You too, gal. You can wear it out tonight, whatever you're up to.
SEELYA: (FROWNS) Nothing, by the looks of it. My friends have all completely forgotten my birthday. Why don't we do something?
GWYNNE: Got to get to Caer Witrin; I need to be back in Mhaldor by tomorrow. Sorry.
SEELYA: (SIGHS) No worry. I guess it doesn't matter…
GWYNNE: No, it doesn't, Seelya. Are your friends there for you when you need them?
SEELYA: Always.
GWYNNE: And you laugh and joke with them?
SEELYA: Yes…
GWYNNE: Then what does it matter if they forget that you're a day older today than you were yesterday? Try not to focus on the small things, child.
SEELYA: Yes, you're right.
GWYNNE: (SMILES) Of course I am.
A DOVE FLIES INTO THE ROOM, DEPOSITS A LETTER INTO SEELYA'S HAND, AND FLIES OFF AGAIN.
SEELYA RAISES AN EYEBROW QUESTIONINGLY, AND LOOKS AT IT.
GWYNNE: A card?
SEELYA OPENS THE LETTER AND READS IT, FROWNING.
SEELYA: "Come to the Auditorium". It isn't signed.
GWYNNE: (GRINS) There you go! They've probably got a party set up for you. Get over there and look surprised!
SEELYA: Do you think so?
GWYNNE: (SHRUGS) One way to find out. Right, I'm off on some business. I'll look you up before I leave tonight.
EXEUNT
CURTAIN
ACT III SCENE 4
THE AUDITORIUM OF THE BARDS' GUILDHALL. ON THE STAGE, EAMONN AND ZHADE STAND OPPOSITE EACHOTHER, EACH HOLDING A SHEET OF PARCHMENT. A SET OF STAIRS LEADING DOWN FROM THE AUDITORIUM IS VISIBLE TO THE AUDIENCE, BUT NOT THE ACTORS.
ZHADE: So which part do you want me to read?
EAMONN: Casseus. I will do the part of Barnod.
ZHADE: (SCANNING THE PAGE) Why do I get the guy with the most lines?
EAMONN: Do you want to help me or not?
ZHADE: Okay, keep your horns on. Where shall I start?
EAMONN: At the beginning.
ZHADE CLEARS HIS THROAT, AND BEGINS TO SPEAK IN A CLEAR, RESONANT STAGE VOICE.
ZHADE: "Ah, Barnod, how goes it?"
EAMONN: "Not bad at all, friend."
ZHADE: "Weather nice, isn't it?" Gods, this is awful!
EAMONN: Just get on with it.
ZHADE: Okay, okay. "Weather nice, isn't it?"
EAMONN: "I did not come here to talk to you about the bloody weather, Casseus. You know she loves you, so why do you continue to play with her heart?"
ZHADE: "I care not for the attentions of some stupid little girl-" Eamonn, this is really, really terrible. Did you actually write this, or is it some kind of joke?
EAMONN: Zhade-
ZHADE: Okay, I will not say another word. Gods. "I care not for the attentions of some stupid little girl-"
ENTER SEELYA
SHE BEGINS TO CLIMB THE STAIRS TOWARDS THE AUDITORIUM.
ZHADE: "-who spends her every moment trying to get the world to like her."
EAMONN: "There is no need to talk about her like that!"
ZHADE: "Oh, please! Her whingeing, whining voice is like nails on a chalkboard to me, and the mere sight of her affronts me. I never met a Siren whose ripe pleasures made up for her pitiful, empty head, nor bedded one that had anything else to her merit. The mere thought that she thinks herself worthy of me is risible!"
SEELYA STOPS JUST BEFORE SHE REACHES THE TOP OF THE STAIRS, HER MOUTH AGAPE WITH SHOCK AS SHE LISTENS ON.
EAMONN: "One more word about her and I shall run you through with my rapier, I swear it."
ZHADE: "And you think that that would make any difference? She'd never love a hoofed, horned miscreant like you; who the Hell would? If all you want is a roll in the hay, then just ask her. The Sirens do not have a racial language, because they have yet to think up a word for 'No'. Screw her if you like. Personally, I would not even bother."
EAMONN: "Enough of this! Draw!"
THE DUO DROP THEIR SCRIPTS, DRAW THEIR RAPIERS, AND GO THROUGH A FEW DRILLS.
SEELYA BURSTS INTO TEARS AND RUNS OFF DOWN THE STAIRS.
THE STAGE-FIGHTING COMES TO A HALT.
ZHADE: Did you just hear something?
EAMONN: (SMILING) Yeah, probably just the rats.
ZHADE: It must have been wearing clogs. Shall we continue?
EAMONN: Nah, no need. As you said, it's terrible.
EAMONN TAKES THE SCRIPT FROM ZHADE AND PUTS IT TOGETHER WITH HIS OWN ON THE FLOOR. PICKING UP HIS PACK, HE TAKES OUT IS TINDERBOX AND SETS THE PILE OF PARCHMENT ON FIRE.
ZHADE: Fancy grabbing a swift flagon at Sam's?
EAMONN: Zhade, have I ever told you what a complete and utter asshole you are?
ZHADE: What?
EAMONN: You heard me. Go fuck yourself.
EXIT EAMONN.
ZHADE WATCHES EAMONN LEAVE, HIS FACE A PICTURE OF CONFUSION.
CURTAIN
ACT III SCENE 5
THE ENTRANCE TO THE LYCEUM. IT IS NOON, AND A FEW PEOPLE WALK HERE AND THERE.
SEELYA STANDS AT THE ENTRANCE, BLOWING HER NOSE. HER EYES ARE RED AND PUFFY.
EAMONN: Hi there, Seelya. Sorry I am late but I was slightly preo- What's wrong? Have you been crying?
SEELYA: I heard everything, Eamonn.
EAMONN: Oh... shit.
SEELYA: How could I have been so wrong about him, Eamonn? I feel like such an idiot.
TEARS BEGIN TO FLOW DOWN HER CHEEKS, AND EAMONN WRAPS A COMFORTING ARM AROUND HER.
EAMONN: There, there, do not take it to heart. The man is a dog; what more can you expect from an Ashtanite?
SEELYA: Thanks for defending me, Eamonn. Thank you so much.
SHE LOOKS UP AT HIM AND MANAGES A SMILE.
EAMONN: How could I not, Seelya? I think the world of you. You know that, don't you?
SHE NODS AND LOOKS INTO HIS EYES. EAMONN PUTS HIS ARMS AROUND HER, LEANS FORWARD SLIGHTLY, AND KISSES HER DEEPLY.
EAMONN: I love you, Seelya.
SEELYA: I'm just so confused.
EAMONN: Don't worry about it. I'll look after you. Here, let me take you out tonight.
SEELYA: I'm supposed to be meeting Gormon for drinks.
EAMONN: He'll understand, will our Gormon. Come out with me; we'll take a walk by the lake, stop at Sam's for a couple. I want to get to know you.
SEELYA: (SMILING) Okay, let's.
SHE LEANS FORWARD AND KISSES HIM.
CURTAIN
ACT III SCENE 6
THE BARDS COMMON ROOM. THE LIGHTING FROM THE WINDOW SUGGESTS THAT IT IS LATE AFTERNOON.
GIANNA, GORMON, YEMI AND ZHADE ARE EATING A QUICK MEAL.
ZHADE: Right, as soon as I finish this shall head up to Caer Witrin and get the flowers.
GIANNA: Have you apologised to Eamonn yet?
ZHADE: Yes, I did, but we have fallen out again. (FINISHING EATING) Anyway, I am off to Caer Witrin to get the flowers. I shall be back by dusk. Meet you all down here?
YEMI: Hey, I'm coming too!
ZHADE: Hurry up, then.
YEMI WOLFS DOWN THE REST OF HIS FOOD, GRABS HIS PACK AND FOLLOWS ZHADE.
EXIT YEMI AND ZHADE
GORMON GAZES HAPPILY AT GIANNA.
GIANNA: What is it?
GORMON: (FIDLING AWKWARDLY WITH HIS PIPE) Fancy goin' te the party tonight? Together, I mean. Eamonn's gonna take care o' Seelya. Thought it'd be alright if we grabbed a coupla drinks in Ashtan then grabbed a Portal back ‘ome; I got a buddy that'd do it no problem.
GIANNA: Oh, Gormon... I have just agreed to go with someone else...
GORMON: Oh, well... Tha's fair enough, guess I shoulda asked y'earlier. Well, I'll jus', err, start getting meself ready…
GORMON LOOKS AT THE PIPE FOR A MOMENT AND THEN SIGHS. HE DROPS IT AND RISES TO HIS FEET.
EXIT GORMON
GIANNA WATCHES HIM LEAVE.
CURTAIN
ACT III SCENE 7
THE GRAVEYARD AT DUSK. EAMONN AND GWYNNE ARRIVE FROM OPPOSITE SIDES AND MEET IN THE MIDDLE.
EAMONN: Did you get the Gleam?
GWYNNE: Of course. Did you get the girl?
EAMONN: Of course. And screwed my friend whilst I was at it. The bastard deserves it. How good is this stuff?
GWYNNE: Does exactly what it says on the tin. I warn you, it's extremely addictive, and bloody expensive. But then finance is clearly not an issue for you.
EAMONN: Don't worry about it; it isn't for me. So, what you up to for the rest of the evening?
GWYNNE: I'm just gonna pack up and head back to Mhaldor. Got to say 'bye' to a friend first, but I'll be gone soon enough. Well, Eamonn, it's good to see that the world's still fucked up, and that there are still people willing to keep it that way!
EAMONN: Quite. And it's good to see that Mhaldorans are still Mhaldorans.
THE PAIR LAUGH, AND BOTH DRAW THEIR SWORDS IN SALUTE.
GWYNNE: Maybe all Cyrenians aren't so dull after all. Take care of yourself.
EAMONN: Go with song!
EXEUNT
CURTAIN
ACT III SCENE 8
THE BARDS COMMON ROOM. THE LIGHTS ARE JUST DARK ENOUGH TO SHOW THAT ALL OF THE PREPARATIONS FOR THE PARTY HAVE BEEN COMPLETED. A HUGE BANQUET OF SAVOURIES AND SWEETS ADORNS THE TABLES, AND THE DÉCOR IS BRIGHT AND CHEERFUL.
THE ENTIRETY OF THE ACADEMIE, INCLUDING THE FACULTY, STANDS WITHIN, WHISPERING IN BARELY-CONTAINED EXCITEMENT.
POET LAUREATE: Is there any more cognac out here? Oh, thanks, Gianna.
BARDLET ONE: Get off my foot!
BARDLET TWO: I'm not on your bloody foot; you're on my tail!
BARDLET ONE: Well who's on my foot? And stop pinching my arse!
BARDLET TWO: I am not touching your arse!
ALDY: Sorry, my bad.
GIANNA: Quiet! They'll be here soon.
GORMON: Someone's coming!
THE ROOM FALLS INTO SILENCE. A MOMENT LATER THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN.
ENTER ZHADE
ZHADE: Hey, people. I brought flowers.
A ROUND OF APPLAUSE AND CHEERS GOES UP FROM ZHADE'S FANS WITHIN THE ACADEMIE.
BARDLET THREE: Hi, Zhade! How-
GIANNA: Quiet!
THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN AGAIN.
ENTER EAMONN
EAMONN: Okay, get in position; she'll be down in a second!
THE SCENE FALLS ONCE MORE INTO CHARGED SILENCE.
EAMONN MOVES OVER TO ZHADE, AND HANDS HIM A DRINK. NOT LOOKING TO SEE WHO IT IS, ZHADE TAKES THE DRINK AND DOWNS IT IN ONE.
ZHADE: Thanks. I needed that.
A MOMENT LATER, THE DOOR OPENS.
ENTER SEELYA
ALDY AND A FEW XORANS STOOD STRATEGICALLY AROUND THE ROOM SEND OUT SIMULTANEOUS BLASTS OF FLAME, AND THE CANDLES AND LAMPS ARE LIT. THE SCENE BURSTS INTO LIGHT.
EVERYONE: Surprise!
SEELYA LOOKS ABOUT HER IN STUNNED DISBELIEF, HER MOUTH AGAPE, AND A SMILE BLOSSOMS ON HER FACE.
THE ROOM BURSTS INTO CHEERS AND APPLAUSE.
ZHADE PUTS DOWN HIS GLASS AND HANDS THE BOUQUET TO GORMON.
ZHADE: (TO GORMON) I feel faint; I shall be right back.
EXIT ZHADE
GORMON LOOKS THOUGHTFULLY AFTER HIM, THEN TURNS TO GIVE THE FLOWERS TO SEELYA.
SEELYA: Thank you all so much! I thought that you had all forgotten!
POET LAUREATE: As if we would forget an excuse to drink cognac all night.
BARD LORD: Happy Birthday, Seelya.
SEELYA: (CURTSEYING) Thank you, sir.
THE DOOR BURTS OPEN, AND ZHADE ENTERS, RAPIER DRAWN, LOOKING FEARFULLY OVER HIS SHOULDER.
EVERYBODY STANDS BACK, LOOKING EXPECTANTLY AT THE DOOR. THE ROOM GOES QUIET, AND ZHADE LOOKS AROUND HIM IN CONFUSION.
ZHADE: Err, when did they move the Common Room to the lowest level of Azdun?
GIANNA: What art thou talking about, Zhade?
ZHADE: I was in Azdun a second ago. Now I am here… What the Hell is going on?
GORMON: No ye weren't, ye were in here a second ago. Stop fooling around and 'ave some cake.
SEELYA: (HANDING HER GLASS TO EAMONN) You have the cheek to turn up here after the things you've said about me!?
ZHADE: What? What are you on about?
SEELYA: You know damned well what I'm talking about! I heard you arguing with Eamonn in the auditorium.
ZHADE: Oh, that! We were reading a play, not arguing.
SEELYA: Bollocks!
EAMONN: Calm down, sweetheart, let me deal with this.
ZHADE: Tell her, Eamonn.
EAMONN: And you can forget it if you think I'm about to get you off the hook for this!
ZHADE: You have got to be kidding, Eamonn! (GIGGLES)
SEELYA: This is funny, is it?
ZHADE CONTINUES TO GIGGLE, THEN FALLS INTO HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER.
BARD LORD: What is going on here, please?
SEELYA: This guy was slagging me off in the auditorium earlier, and now he turns up at my party and tries to steal the limelight!
BARD LORD: Is this true Zhade? Zhade?
ZHADE STARES VACANTLY AT THE BARD LORD FOR A LONG MOMENT.
BARD LORD: Zhade?
ZHADE BEGINS TO SHIVER VIOLENTY, AND THEN FALLS TO THE GROUND, STILL SHIVERING.
BARDLET THREE SCREAMS.
GORMON: Bloody 'ell, what's wrong wi' 'im?
POET LAUREATE: (SIGHS) I have seen these symptoms before. He's taken Gleam.
ZHADE SITS UP WITH A START.
BARD LORD: Is this true, Zhade?
ZHADE: What?
BARD LORD: Have you taken Gleam?
ZHADE: Gleam? Gods, no!
YEMI: Zhade would never touch Gleam! This is bloody ridiculous!
POET LAUREATE: (WARNINGLY) Yemi...
BARD LORD TURNS TO POET LAUREATE.
BARD LORD: Diagnose him.
POET LAUREATE NODS, AND TURNS TO ZHADE, PEERING AT HIM.
POET LAUREATE: It's Gleam. Definitely.
YEMI: Zhade would never touch Gleam!
BARD LORD: I'm sorry, Zhade, but I have no alternative. I hereby outguild you.
ZHADE: But-
A BEAM OF PRISMATIC LIGHT SHOOTS INTO THE ROOM.
EVERYBODY JUMPS BACK, DRAWING THEIR RAPIERS, AND BARD LORD QUICKLY WIELDS HIS LUTE AND THROWS OUT SOME HARMONICS.
GWYNNE APPEARS ON A BEAM OF PRISMATIC LIGHT, BEFORE SEELYA. SHE APPRAISES THE SITUATION AND RAISES AN EYEBROW.
GWYNNE: Err, hi? Did I come at a bad time?
BARD LORD: How dare you prism into our Guildhall?
GWYNNE: Oh, shit, sorry. I didn't realise. I just stopped by to say 'bye' to Seelya. I should've checked where she was. I'll just be-
GWYNNE NOTICES EAMONN STANDING HAND-IN-HAND WITH SEELYA.
GWYNNE: You! This is the girl you were talking about?
EAMONN LOOKS WORRIED, OPENING HIS MOUTH TO SPEAK AND THEN CLOSING IT FOOLISHLY.
SEELYA: What are you talking about?
ZHADE GIGGLES.
ZHADE: Is there any pudding?
GWYNNE: What the-?
COMPREHENSION CROSSES GWYNNE'S FACE AS SHE LOOKS FROM THE GIGGLING ZHADE TO THE UNCOMFORTABLE EAMONN.
GWYNNE: You spiked him with Gleam!
ZHADE: He spiked my drink with Gleam!
BARDLETS ONE, TWO AND THREE: You spiked his drink with Gleam?
EAMONN: Nonsense! Where would I get Gleam from?
SEELYA: Yes, Zhade! How dare you try to palm this off on Eamonn! I was a fool to ever think that I loved you; he is twice the man you are!
GWYNNE: Seelya, you're making a big mistake here. Eamonn did have access to Gleam. Because I gave it to him.
BARD LORD: This is a serious accusation indeed, Squire. You do realise that, if true, this claim would lead to Eamonn's outguilding and you being enemied from Cyrene.
GWYNNE: This place is boring anyway. And I'd rather that than see one of my sisters get together with this conniving, wicked Satyr.
EAMONN: How dare you insult me in my Guildhall! Your word has no more worth than that of your evil, twisted God!
GWYNNE: YOU PITIFUL SON OF A-
GWYNNE DRAWS HER SWORD IN OUTRAGE AND SWINGS FOR EAMONN.
SEELYA: Gwynne, no!
BARD LORD LEAPS FORWARD, BETWEEN GWYNNE AND EAMONN, KNOCKING HER BLADE ASIDE WITH HIS RAPIER. HE TENSES BRIEFLY, AND, WITH A CRY, TRIPLEJABS HER.
GWYNNE CRIES OUT IN PAIN AND FALLS TO THE GROUND, MORTALLY WOUNDED.
GWYNNE: I always said that Sirens would be the death of me.
SHE COLLAPSES AND DIES.
SEELYA RUSHES TO HER, SOBBING AND HUGGING THE BLEEDING CORPSE. BARD LORD SHEATHES HIS RAPIER AND SIGHS, LOOKING SADLY AT THE SCENE.
BARD LORD: I had no choice.
POET LAUREATE COMFORTS HIM.
POET LAUREATE: Okay, people, the party is over. Eamonn and Zhade, you are both suspended pending investigation. Further more, Eamonn, I give you my Guilddisfavour for your disrespectful and utterly indefensible insult against a Divinity.
BARD LORD STOOPS DOWN TO TAKE THE BODY OF GWYNNE, BUT SEELYA TURNS TO HIM.
SEELYA: Don't touch her!
BARD LORD LOOKS AT HER FOR A MOMENT AND NODS SADLY.
IN SHOCKED SILENCE, THE ACADEMIE MEMBERS SHEATHE THEIR WEAPONS AND BEGIN TO FILE OUT, LOOKING AT THE TRAGIC SCENE.
GORMON HELPS ZHADE TO HIS FEET AND THE TWO EXIT.
EAMONN: I am so sorry for this, Seelya.
SEELYA: Is it true?
EAMONN: What?
SEELYA: Did you spike his drink?
EAMONN: Of course I didn't! You'd believe the words of a Maldaathi and a male slag over mine? I love you, Seelya.
SEELYA: Leave me alone, all of you!
ALL EXCEPT GIANNA AND SEELYA EXIT
GIANNA: Seelya…
SEELYA: Will I ever know who is telling the truth, Gianna?
GIANNA: No, thou shalt not ever know for sure, Seelya. With the only person who could corroborate Zhade's story dead, how can you? He will be outguilded certes, but we shall never know for sure. What dost thy heart tell thee?
SEELYA: (PAUSE) I do not know, Gianna. I really do not know.
CURTAIN
FIN --------------------------------------------------------------------