The Interludes of Dame Sortilege & Company
(Eight interludes eight)
By Ben Gavarre
This work has been published for
free and open dissemination, although all intellectual property rights are
reserved. Public use of this work requires permission from the author and for
permission contact bengavarre@gmail.com or gavarreunam@gmail.com (Reg. Prop. Int. Expte. Inbox)
Interlude the First:
Of Charity and the Madwoman’s Piss
- Players: THE
MADWOMAN, THE POCKMARKED MAN, FRIAR LAMBERT.
- Scene: A
dusty street corner.
(Enter FRIAR LAMBERT, sweating under the weight of
a statue).
FRIAR LAMBERT: Peace be with you, good sirs! I come
to ask your help for the forsaken. An alms for Saint Roch, that he may keep the
plague from you!
POCKMARKED MAN: (Opening one eye). Thou art lost,
your honour. We have not enough for a sip of wine, and you come begging for
others.
MADWOMAN: (Leaping up). Alms? From us? Zounds, what
impudence! Dost thou not see this is our corner, our place of business? Thou
art invading my jurisdiction, thou man of cloth!
FRIAR LAMBERT: But good woman, charity knows no
territory...
MADWOMAN: Well, mine does! And thou, with that
great doll, art scaring off my clientele! E'en now, decent folk walk wide to
avoid three beggars instead of two!
POCKMARKED MAN: Aye, 'tis so! 'Tis unfair
competition! Go and beg from the merchants. Their pockets are full and their
consciences are foul!
FRIAR LAMBERT: But 'tis for a good cause! The saint
requires a new mantle!
MADWOMAN: (Scrutinizing the statue). Then why not
ask the saint to fashion one for himself? So many miracles, yet he cannot weave
a simple cloak? Hark, holy man, I'll make thee a bargain. Stay and sleep here
this night. If thou canst last till dawn without thy sandals being stolen, and
after the bath of piss I take at midnight, I shall give thee all I gather on
the morrow.
(Friar Lambert looks in horror at the filthy nook.
He stammers and retreats).
FRIAR LAMBERT: I... I believe Saint Roch prefers to
remain thus, without a mantle. God be with you!
(The Friar flees. The Madwoman and the Pockmarked
Man roar with laughter).
POCKMARKED MAN: We have won the battle against
heaven!
MADWOMAN: By my grandmother's laces, that we have!
(They stand and face the audience).
MADWOMAN: (To the audience). From this, good sirs,
you ought to learn, / That e'en when for a coin you yearn, / A beggar must his
station keep, / And mind the spot wherein to sleep!
(They make a comical bow and settle down again. Blackout).
Interlude the Second: Of Sortilege, the Convert,
and the Wicked Wink
- Players: DAME
SORTILEGE, BENITO THE BEAUTIFUL, DON CONVERSO, a BAILIFF, Two LADS (PETER
and JOHN).
- Scene: Dame
Sortilege’s general store.
BAILIFF: Dame Sortilege, you stand accused of
witchcraft and dealings with the Evil One!
DAME SORTILEGE: The Evil One? I know not the
gentleman! My dealings are with the Virgin of Guadalupe, and all with the
bishop's license, lest you forget!
DON CONVERSO: (Entering behind him). Lie not,
woman! Thou hast been seen to read the cards and sell potions! 'Tis the work of
Satan, as those of thy ilk well know!
DAME SORTILEGE: Hark, Don Converso, 'tis one thing
that thou art envious for that they buy my sausage and spit upon thee for a
usurer. 'Tis quite another that you raise false witness because your Jewish
blood cannot abide my success!
(Enter Peter and John. Upon seeing Benito the
Beautiful, they stop dead. Benito is handsome as a painting; masculine, but of
a stunning perfection).
PETER: (To John, in a low voice). By the heavens,
what a magnificent creature!
(Whilst drinking, John winks boldly at Benito, who
blushes. A slight tension arises between him and his mother, who watches him
from the corner of her eye, almost jealous of the attention he receives).
DON CONVERSO: Do not be beguiled! Away with her!
DAME SORTILEGE: Hold! I warn thee, Converso. If
thou dost not withdraw thy slander, I shall cast such a terrible spell upon
thee that thy figs shall wither, and every time thou countest thy coins, they
shall turn to buttons!
(Don Converso turns pale).
DON CONVERSO: I... 'twas but a jest. Come, lads!
(He exits hastily. Peter and John follow, but
first, Peter turns and blows a kiss to Benito, who hides behind a ham).
DAME SORTILEGE: (To the audience, as the Bailiff
helps himself to some cheese). From Jewish spite and calumny, / And winking
eyes that look so sly, / I guard myself with cunning art, / For trade is brisk
within my mart!
(She charges the Bailiff for the cheese with a
triumphant look. Blackout).
Interlude the Third: Of the Opening Ritual
- Players: DAME SORTILEGE, MARICRUZ.
- Scene: The
shop, early morning.
DAME SORTILEGE: Zounds, what a toil! To open this
shop is harder than begging a loan from Don Converso. To cleanse, to bring the
coal, to scare the rats...!
(Enter MARICRUZ, distressed).
MARICRUZ: Dame Sorti, I pray you, I need your help!
'Tis a matter of Anacleto, the apothecary! Read the cards for me, for charity's
sake!
DAME SORTILEGE: Anacleto? That one has less future
than a capon at Christmas! Hark, girl, the only card I can deal thee now is the
one that sends thee out the door! Go, take the air, and tell Anacleto to go and
fry asparagus!
MARICRUZ: (Wailing). But 'tis urgent!
DAME SORTILEGE: And 'tis urgent that I break my
fast! Now, away with thee!
(Maricruz exits, desolate. Dame Sortilege leans on
her broom and addresses the audience).
DAME SORTILEGE: There is no ache, no torment deep,
/ That can with pangs of love compare, / But with such chores my soul to keep,
/ For sighs and swoons I have no care! / "He looked at me," one
maiden cries, / "He spake no word," another weeps... / 'Fore God,
'twere better for their sighs / To help me stir the fire from sleeps!
(She swings the broom and gets back to work. Blackout).
Interlude the Fourth: Of the Patients and the
Spoken Secret
- Players: DAME
SORTILEGE, BENITO THE BEAUTIFUL, GASTON and PASCUAL, DOCTOR LEECHWORTH.
- Scene: The
shop. Gaston and Pascual enter, walking bow-legged.
GASTON: ...and he brought me an unguent of pig's
fat and mercury. The cunning rogue told me 'twill burn right there, aye, in
that very spot, like the flames of hell, but the doctor swears 'tis thus a
chancre is killed!
PASCUAL: Mine is worse! For the French pox, he
prescribed I drink my own piss in the morning! He says the miasma must be
fought with one's own humour!
(Dame Sortilege and Benito the Beautiful make faces
of disgust. Benito discreetly sprays rosemary water in the air).
(Enter DOCTOR LEECHWORTH).
DR. LEECHWORTH: Dame Sortilege, some wine! (He sees
his patients). Well now, Gaston! Pascual! How fares that swagger from riding...
other men's mares? (He roars with laughter. To Benito and Dame Sortilege). For
Master Gaston, I prescribed mercury to quench the fire in his loins. Right
there, in that very spot. (Sortilege and Benito recoil, "TOO MUCH
INFORMATION!"). And thou, Pascual, will thou savour thy morning's vintage?
I imagine 'tis quite delectable... (He laughs again).
GASTON: Doctor, by all the saints! Your worship
must keep a secret!
PASCUAL: You put us to shame before the whole
world!
DR. LEECHWORTH: A secret? What secret? Professional
secrecy is an invention that doth not yet exist! (He winks at the audience).
Your affliction is a trophy of your conquests!
(Gaston and Pascual, humiliated, throw down some
coins and flee. Benito and Dame Sortilege perform an outlandish dance to ward
off the evil spirits, using a modern spray bottle. DOCTOR LEECHWORTH gets in
their way and they push him aside in a mad choreography).
DAME SORTILEGE: Well, well, your honour. With such
discretion, soon thou wilt be treating thyself for loneliness.
DR. LEECHWORTH: (To the audience). They see not
that the cure's begun / When the ailment is confessed, / For no penance 'neath
the sun / Beats public shame to stand the test!
(He downs his wine. Blackout).
Interlude The fifth. Ariadno's Strange Flirtation
Characters:
ARIADNO: The dramatic artist.
DAME SORTILEGIO
BENITO: His son.
Setting: The counter of the Venta. (Ariadno is leaning
against the counter, looking at Doña Sortilegio with a theatrical intensity).
ARIADNO: Oh, Sorcery, matron of commerce and muse of
chorizo! Your pragmatism is a balm for my soul tormented by beauty! You are like
a Roman sculpture, carved into the stone of resilience!
DAME SORTILEGIO: (Without looking up from her accounts).
In other words, I look old and hard. Thank you, Ariadno. What do you want today?
Eighty pesos for a taxi or the review of my new fantasy DISH?
ARIADNO: I want the light of your presence! And maybe
some cheese to go with my inspiration! (Benito approaches from behind the counter,
to pick up some dishes).
BENITO: (To Ariadno, shyly). Mr. Ariadno, the other
day I saw your drawings in the market. They are very... Expressive. (Ariadno turns.
Its intensity does not decrease, it simply changes its objective. Look Benito up
and down).
ARIADNO: Ah, youth! The blank canvas! You have eyes,
boy, that look like two wells of mystery. A bone structure of a Greek ephebe! Worthy
of being immortalized in charcoal!
BENITO: (Blushing). Really?
ARIADNO: Artist's word! (He approaches Benito and whispers
to him). And you, what do you think of art? Do you think that beauty is objective
or a mere social construction?
DAME SORTILEGIO: (Clears her throat noisily). The cheese
is three reais a wedge, Ariadno. And my son has to go get firewood. (Ariadno is
caught between the two. He looks at Sortilegio with his pose of a tragic heartthrob,
and then Benito with his look of an artistic mentor).
ARIADNO: The dilemma! Earthly life against ethereal
inspiration! (Winks at Spell.) I need the sustenance you offer me, my Venus de la
Venta. (Then he whispers to Benito). But my soul needs to converse with yours, my
young Apollo.
BENITO: I... DON’T REALLY KNOW… I’m still Too young,
What a…!
DAME SORTILEGIO: (She puts the cheese on the counter).
Three reals. And stop cajoling the family, I don't have money and my son doesn't
have time for your drawing classes. (Ariadne sighs, defeated but not defeated. He
takes the cheese, takes a bite, looks at Benito, then at Sorcery, and leaves the
shop with the same dignity of a dethroned king. Benito and Sortilegio stare at each
other, not quite sure what has just happened. Dark).
Interlude the Sixth:: Of the Alien Bread and the
Reader Witch
- Players: THE
MADWOMAN, DAME SORTILEGE, BENITO THE BEAUTIFUL, JOHN.
- Scene: The shop.
(Enter THE MADWOMAN, with a 21st-century toaster
and a bag of Wonder Bread).
MADWOMAN: Attend, mortals! Behold an artifact from
Olympus! And the bread of angels, for it hath no crust!
DAME SORTILEGE: Thieving again, Madwoman? And what
is this pale bread? It looks sickly.
MADWOMAN: 'Tis the future! One puts it in here,
pulls down this lever, and presto! It comes out golden and hot!
DAME SORTILEGE: And whence comes this power? From
hell's depths below? Dost thou plug it to a lightning bolt amidst a storm?
MADWOMAN: Thou offendest me! This is worth five
reals!
DAME SORTILEGE: Half a real. And what am I to do
with bread that looks a ghost?
MADWOMAN: Thou art a usurer! A...! A WITCH!
DAME SORTILEGE: (Smiling). A witch? The very word I
wished to hear, coming from one who looks the part! Sit thee down. For that
compliment, thou hast earned a reading of the cards.
(The Madwoman sits. Benito approaches, fascinated
by the toaster).
BENITO: And how does it work? By magic?
MADWOMAN: By electricity, fool! For that, thou must
wait a century or two! Meanwhile, thou canst gaze upon thy reflection in the
metal. Indeed… Thy beauty is enough to make a man dizzy.
(Benito leans in closely. The Madwoman spits
directly in his face. Benito freezes, then bursts into tears, wailing in a
corner).
(Enter John).
JUAN: Benito, what ails thee? (He embraces him).
Ho, handsome! What have they done to thee?
(John comically consoles Benito, who both accepts
and resists. The Madwoman shrugs. Dame Sortilege raises an eyebrow, as if to
say, "I saw this coming").
MADWOMAN: (To Sortilege). Such a surfeit of beauty
is cloying, wouldst thou not agree? Now, deal the cards. Dost thou know, in my
youth, I was so beautiful I stopped the traffic!
(Dame Sortilege shuffles the deck. THE MADWOMAN
winks at the audience. Blackout).
Interlude the Seventh: Of the Courtship at the
Watering Trough
- Players: THE
GALLANT, BENITO THE BEAUTIFUL, MONICA, DAME SORTILEGE.
- Scene: A
public watering trough.
BENITO: (To the audience). And then, he would make
his triumphal entrance. The Gallant. Every visit to the trough was a courtship.
A personal triumphal arch.
(The Gallant approaches. Monica spies on him,
enraptured. The Gallant fills his large bottle, or ‘botellón’, with the
movements of a courtly knight).
MONICA: What grace! What a way to hold one's
bottle!
BENITO: (To the audience). Monica saw jousts and
tourneys. I saw a poor devil who was thirsty. But one must admit, e'en the
bailiff's horse stopped drinking to watch him.
(Dame Sortilege’s voice shatters the silence).
DAME SORTILEGE: You there, handsome! Leave some
water for the Christians! With such a thirst as thine, thou wilt dry up the
fountain!
(The spell is broken. But Monica, tired of waiting,
runs to The Gallant and plants a resounding kiss upon his lips).
MONICA: Enough of this endless gazing!
(The Gallant, surprised, kisses her back. Monica
separates, triumphant).
MONICA: (Shouting). I HAVE PREVAILED!
(She struts away. Benito drops his role as narrator
and runs to his mother).
BENITO: Mother! Didst thou see? I told thee so!
Monica hath won him!
THE GALLANT: (To the audience, wiping his lips).
Your worships must forgive me. 'Tis just that one's heart is so widely shared.
What is a man to do?
(He drinks from his bottle with the air of a
conqueror. Blackout).
Interlude the Eighth: Of the Renewed Cat and the
Grand Finale
- Players: DAME
SORTILEGE, BENITO THE BEAUTIFUL, a WEEPING NEIGHBOUR, ALL.
- Scene: The
shop. A strange smell pervades.
(Enter the WEEPING NEIGHBOUR).
WEEPING NEIGHBOUR: Dame Sortilege, my Mishi, my
kitten, has vanished! A Persian cat, as white as snow!
(Benito freezes. He connects the smell from the
hidden cauldron with the cat's description. As his mother consoles the
neighbour, Benito runs to the back room).
DAME SORTILEGE: Oh, Angustias, what a sorrow. He
shall surely return.
(Benito returns with a stiff, white stuffed cat, to
which he has tied a bell).
BENITO: (His voice trembling). Neighbour! Look! I
found him! He was sleeping in a sack of flour.
WEEPING NEIGHBOUR: (Taking the cat). Mishi! Thou
art a little stiff, my son!
BENITO: 'Tis because he has been renewed, by the
Science of the Future! 'Tis the new replacement Kitten, sold to me by the
Madwoman of the village! It needs no food, scratches no furniture, and best of
all, it shall never run away again!
(The Neighbour hugs the cat. Suddenly, all the
characters from the previous interludes burst onto the stage).
ALL: (Singing).
The cat has been renewed, good sirs, / with finest
yarn and skill, / if sorrow all your spirit stirs, / there is a cure for every
ill!
No more mewing, no more flights, / No more stews of
mystery, / Gone are all your woeful plights, / Let the revels begin with glee!
(They begin a festive, chaotic dance. Dame
Sortilelge dances with Don Converso, the Doctor with the Madwoman, Monica with
the Gallant, the Lads with Benito. At the end, they all stop).
DAME SORTILEGE: (To the audience). And with this
song and merry dance, / Our comedy we herewith end.
DR. LEECHWORTH: If you have liked our foolish
prance, / The news to all your fellows send.
BENITO THE BEAUTIFUL: But if our play you found a
bore, / And thought it all a sorry jest...
ALL: Then recommend it, we implore, / To that one
neighbour you detest!
(They make a grand final bow as the music swells.)
(Blackout).
