The Marriage of Racee (a play)

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Ladellon
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Joined: Tue Jan 13, 2004 1:24 am
Location: just north of Leadfeather

The Marriage of Racee (a play)

Post by Ladellon »

(for those who missed or just want to take it in again. Thanks to Mick, erisa and paazin for their amazing participation. Thanks to Wynna for helping out with sets and crowd control [or disruption of same])


THE MARRIAGE OF RACEE
A play written and directed by Begor N’istrema, Roving Entertainment Group of Ruith

Cast
Racee – street thief (played by T’lisa)
Gherri – fruit vendor (played by Ash)
Multhar – tavern rough (played by Gruush)
Messenger of the prince (played by Ash)
Prince (played by Begor)
Old man (played by Begor)


SCENE ONE (a busy market street)

*Racee walks onto the stage, smiles and grabs and apple from a fruit vendor’s cart*

*She flips the vendor a coin, which falls to the ground*

*While the vendor bends over to fetch it, Racee plucks three coins from his purse and sings*

[RACEE] Thank you, master Gherri, for the fruit you deal
Without you I don’t know if I would have a meal


*she backs up a step*

I’d likely waste away . . .
Or worse.
I might just have to pay . . .
Perverse!
*quietly* for all the things from you I simply steal.


*she walks to another stall as Gherri looks up*

Oh, the life of a thief is not so bad,
Providing relief from a world gone mad.


*she looks to an urchin boy in the street*

Has everything been flawless?
Well I couldn’t swear that’s true.


*she gives the boy the coins from the vendor and he rushes away*

Am I often labeled lawless?
It depends upon one’s view.


*she sings to the people in the street, who pay her no mind*

Now why a daring lass or fearless lad
Would choose a life that’s bland
And painstakingly planned
And void of all the escapades I’ve had.
I just don’t understand.
Oh, the life of a thief is not so bad.


*she walks bast a hunched and bandaged old man without noticing him*

Spending everyday without a single care *she sighs*
Sleeping in ‘til noon or wending here and there

*she indicates up and down the street*

I do enjoy the perk . . .
Without it,
I might just have to work . . .
I doubt it
*she laughs*
There’s certainly far better ways to earn my fare.
Oh, the life of a thief is not so bad,
Providing relief from a world gone mad
*she asks a passing guard* Have I had many close calls?
Well, perhaps a few.
*she stares a horse in the face* Slept out in any horse stalls?
Yes, but I’ve been in beds, too!
Now why a daring lass or fearless lad
Would choose a life that’s bland
And painstakingly planned
And void of all the escapades I’ve had.
I just don’t understand.
Oh, the life of a thief is not so bad.


*she hops onto a barrel and faces the crowded street*

It’s the only one that I have ever had
And I must admit it makes me very glad!
Oh, the life of a thief is not so bad!


*she finishes with a flourish, hops off the barrel and walks up the street, eating her apple*



SCENE TWO – (inside a tavern, the Crooked Noose)

*Racee and several men are drinking around a table*
*a woman dressed in the garb of a royal messenger bursts into the tavern*
*she breathlessly inquires of all the patrons*

[MESSENGER] Have . . . you . . . heard?

[RACEE] Out with it woman. Is the Fallen Oak across the street serving free ales?

*fellows at the table laugh lightly*

[MESSENGER] *looks astonished* You don’t know?

[RACEE] Know what? *she lifts her drink with no concern*

[MESSENGER] *sings with continued excitement*
Have you heard?
Have you heard?
There’s a contest on the morrow
For the prince is through with sorrow
And he’s going to wed tomorrow.
Have you heard?
Oh, my word
It sounds absurd,
But with swiftness and with daring come
The fathers of the kingdom
With their daughters that can sing some.
Oh, my word.


*melody changes as she looks around the table*

Oh, the prince will choose the very best,
The one who passes his small test,
But no one knows just what that test will be.
“A secret for the morn,” says he.
But he’ll choose one and sweep the lass away
As the others likely spitefully will say . . .


*she moves around the table*

It’s unheard!
I’m preferred!
I must have another chance for
If you’re seeking some romance you’re
Missing me out on the dance floor.
I’m preferred!


But the prince has plainly made his stance.
He’ll choose one at tomorrow’s dance
One meeting his requirements
Will be the one that represents
The kingdom as a princess newly crowned.
She will instantly be famous and renowned.


Please send word.
Ere it’s occurred.
For the prince is going to marry.
Come by horse, by foot, or ferry.
Make your plans and do not tarry.
Please send word.


*she pauses before completing her message*

Oh, the prince is going to marry . . .
Please send word!


*the messenger leaves and Racee and the men laugh heartily*
*Racee stand and walks about in an overly feminine posture*

[RACEE] Why, sweet prince, you should certainly choose me.
Why . . . I can . . .
I can cook, clean, pour your wine and I’ve never been known to . . .
Well . . .
Release excess bodily gasses in public.

*Racee farts loudly*

Well, hardly ever *she giggles*

*the men pound the table and laugh loudly)

*a bandaged and hunched old man limps to the table*

*he looks at Racee as she chuckles and sits back down to her ale*

[OLD MAN] Very nice, lass *claps politely*
Now why would you presume the prince would want such a woman as that?
One so refined and *clears his throat* so well-mannered?

[RACEE] He’s a prince, old man *waves her hand dismissively*
Therefore, he is a fop, a dandy.

*she leans forward*

He couldn’t handle a woman such as myself anyway, doncha know!
I would wear the poor lad out, eh!

*the men laugh*

[OLD MAN] *nods knowingly* Ahh, I see.
You fear the contest itself.
You know not it’s nature and so you shy from the challenge.

[RACEE]*(stands in defiant manner* Fear, you say? Me?
*laughs* I fear nothing!
In particular, I do not fear any contest of some royal, pampered milksop.
Why, I could win this contest

*the men nod*

I could win this contest AND the prince, of that I have no doubt.
Bah!
And just what would I do with a prince? *she shakes her head and laughs*

[OLD MAN] Well, well. Easily win the contest, you say?
Hmm, what would it be worth to you if . . .
I could provide some insight into this . . . contest?

[RACEE] You?
What do you know of this contest, old man?

[OLD MAN] *sings softly to Racee and the men around the table*
There’s an urn, so I’ve heard
And within’s what each contender,
Be they overweight or slender,
Wishes the prince would surrender.
So I’ve heard.
So if you, undeterred
By the sentries ‘round the palace
Did obtain this guarded chalice
You could t’ward the prince be callous
Undeterred.
But I think that you are full of bluff,
Pretending to be coarse and tough.
I’m sure you’d like to be the one he chooses
And you’re not the type, I see, who often loses.
And so I see your problem very clearly.
If you lose . . . (he pauses)
Well, you wouldn’t lose,
But if you win . . .
Ah, you’d have a man who loves you dearly
And that’s sincerely . . .
Something that you’re likely never to accept.


[OLD MAN] Now tell me, lass, am I right?

[RACEE] *sings with a contemptuous look on her face*
I’ll get this urn, this chalice,
This thing that’s in the palace.
Whatever secret that it holds inside
I’ll bring it here and then, I must confide
Despite the fact that I’ll then know the game,
The feeling that I have will stay the same.
I will not care a single bit at all
To attend the prince’s showy ball
For I’ve no need for any man at all!


[OLD MAN] I see, lass. *looks skeptically at Racee*
Well, as you like it then.
Obtaining the chalice, however, would be some feat indeed.

*the old man limps out the door and into the street*

*a large man at the table stands and tries to look gallant despite food clinging to his beard*

[MULTHAR] You don’t need no prince, Racee!
Why would ye when y’ve got ol’ Multhar, eh? *holds his arms out wide*

I’ll satisfy yer needs, lass.

*he belches loudly and everyone laughs*

[RACEE] *smiling* You belching, ale-swilling stinkers?
You’re no different than all the rest
Hah! Men!

*she throws her hands up in mock disgust and takes a few steps away*
*she turns abruptly back to the table and the men gape at her raptly*

[RACEE] Let me tell you what I think fellers . . . *she begins to sing*

Once long ago while I was traveling about
I happened upon quite a row.
Three men were attempting, with stout wooden clubs
To land on each other a blow.
When asked of the reason they’d started this scrap,
They paused for a moment and then,
They shrugged, raised their clubs and resumed their attacks
And shouted, “I guess ‘cause we’re men!”


*speaking* are you beginning to see where I’m headed with this, gents?

*singing* Uncouth and unclean,
Always rude and obscene,
And none are too keen
If you know what I mean.
An ale-drinking, unthinking, unkempt machine . . .
Who needs a world full of men!?


*she walks around the table, running her hands through the hair of the men*

Once out on a mission with three sturdy lads,
We came on a gruesome orc horde.
I made a suggestion that we turn about,
But hastily I was ignored.
I whispered a warning as they drew their swords,
Preparing to charge into the glen,
“Use stealth and good tactics,” I pleaded. They said,
“Why should we? You know that we’re men!”


Uncouth and unclean,
Always rude and obscene,
And none are too keen
If you know what I mean.
An ale-drinking, unthinking, unkempt machine . . .
Who needs a world full of men!?


*she pours the remnants of a wine bottle over the head of Multhar, who laps it up greedily*

Oh, why would I want to engage in a scene
Where one might think I tolerated a being
Who, for common sense, is the very vaccine!?
Oh, who needs a world full of men?
Not I!
Who needs a world full of men?
I think I’ll pass . . .
Who needs a wooooooorld . . . .
Full of men?


*the men laugh and make arduous pleas with their bodies*
*Racee laughs and sits back down with a contemplative look*

[RACEE] I should get that chalice just to show the old man . . . and that prince.

*heads nod around the table*

[RACEE] If anyone can, surely it would be me.
What do you think boys? Shall I do it?

*the men all shout* Yes!

[RACEE] I could hardly hear you chaps
I asked . . . SHALL . . . I . . . DO . . . IT?

*the men all shout loudly* YES!

*Racee drains her ale and walks out of the tavern*



SCENE THREE – (the prince’s bedroom)

*Racee is at the window, rope in her hands, gathering it back up*

[RACEE] Racee, lass, what are you doing?
Climbing a wall into a prince’s bedroom.
Have you lost your senses?
He’s a man, for the love of Tyr.

*a somewhat dreamy look comes over Racee’s face*

[RACEE] Ah, a man.
Wouldn’t that be something?
Me, a common thief and . . .
And a prince.

*she sighs and sings softly*

This son of a queen
Is most likely a teen
And probably the ugliest
Thing that I’ve seen.
Could it be that the prince
Is something other than mean?
Nah!
Who needs his world full of men?


*she gives a dismissive snort and drops down into the room*

*she treads furtively across the room, gliding toward the bed*

*she prince is asleep in the bed*

*she checks around the bed carefully and bends to one side, then rises with a glittering chalice and a broad smile*

*as Racee holds the chalice up to the moonlight, the prince opens an eye and glances at her without Racee noticing*

*he quickly closes his eye as Racee leans over the bed to get a better look at the prince*

*she examines him thoroughly for a moment and then sings softly*

[RACEE] I thought that this prince was a coddled young brat
Spoiled through by his palace and wealth.
Yet now I’m presented a further review,
All thanks to good fortune and stealth.
It’s obvious he is much more than I’d heard
And startling how wrong I have been.
He looks to be handsome, courageous, and strong.
Indeed a fine sample of all men.


*she walks back to the window, glancing back at the prince*

Gallant and polite,
Always stands in the right.
He seems a delight
As he slumbers tonight.
A sweet-smelling, orc-felling, well-armored knight *she sighs*
Oh, I’d love a world . . .
With this man.


*Racee dances as if with the prince, holding the chalice before her*

*she finishes with a courtesy and drops the rope out the window and climbs out*

*the prince kicks off the covers and rises from the bed*

*he is dressed as the old man in the tavern*

*he pulls on a false beard, grabs a twisted cane and rushes from the room through a door*



SCENE FOUR – (The Crooked Noose tavern)

*the men are gathered around the table*

*Racee strides toward them with the chalice held high and a triumphant smile*

*she beams and sings boldly*

[RACEE] Tonight, you lads, I did it!
I did it! I did it!
You didn’t doubt I’d do it
And indeed I did.
You never thought I’d rue it,
But shouted me on through it.
And now you must admit it
That succeed I did.
I should get a medal
For bring back the chalice.
All alone I overcame
Each hurdle in the palace.
As sturdy as the Dragonpeaks,
I’ve gotten what each wooer seeks.
There’s no doubt about it,
I did it!
I must have aged a year tonight
Ascending that palatial height.
Never was there a momentary lull.
Upon the roof when I’d arrived
And realized that I’d survived
The remainder of the evening was dreadfully dull.
And then I met the prince, oh yes.
He was asleep, as you might guess,
And seeing him, I must confess . . .
*she trails off with a wistful look*

[MULTHAR] *shouting* You did it!

*Racee shakes her head and sings again*

[RACEE] Yes, I did it! I did it!
I said that I would do it
And indeed I did!


*she places the chalice upon the table and lifts an ale in celebration*

*the old man hobbles up to the table with an admiring look in his eye*

*he claps politely at Racee as the men order more ale to celebrate*

[OLD MAN] Well, dearie, what is the secret?
What is within the chalice?

[RACEE] Nothing, old man.
It’s just a fancy wine cup.
It holds no secret.
The prince has no contest and you . . .
Are a poor excuse for a seer.

[OLD MAN] No secret, eh?

*he moves the chalice next to a glowing lantern and steps away*

*Racee glances at the chalice, then holds it up, noticing something*

[RACEE] There is an inscription . . .
*she reads it aloud* Radiant and charming, endearingly engaging. You must be my wife.
*puzzled look* Well, that says nothing.
Whomever would win this cup at the contest would claim the prize of wife, of course.

[OLD MAN] read it again, but slowly this time, lass.

[RACEE] *shrugs and reads slowly*
Radiant . . . and . . . charming . . . endearingly . . . engaging.
You must be my wife

*she says to the men around the table* Well, this makes no sense.

[OLD MAN] *in a younger voice* the key is in the inscription, it is a riddle of sorts . . .
Radiant
And
Charming
Endearingly
Engaging

You must be my wife.

[RACEE] *to the audience* Does anyone have any idea what this is all about?

*audience yells out their suggested answers*

*the old man pulls off his disguise to reveal the prince*

[PRINCE] It is a request to you, my dear Racee.
*sings* I have often gone disguised
So that I might be apprised
Of the people’s expectations unconstrained.
Having witnessed your largess
And the lives you humbly bless,
I find myself enraptured and enchained.


The citizens that I serve
A gracious princess deserve.
And tonight you’ve demonstrated grace to spare
Proven by the test you’ve passed
I don’t think that I’ve miscast
You for this role, for no one to you can compare.


I pray you’ll not be callous -
For indeed you’ve won the chalice -
Together let’s begin a brand new life.
You’re radiant and charming
Endearingly engaging
Racee, you must be . . .
Oh please say yes and just be . . .
My wife.


[RACEE] *recovered from her initial surprise, walks around the table*
So I have won the challenge? Hmmm
I have won the prize? Hmmm
Radiant, charming, engaging.
All applicable, of course, and quite flattering. Hmmm

*she turns to the prince and suddenly bursts out*

[RACEE] I can still visit my favorite fruit vendor?

*the prince nods*

[RACEE] I can use the window to come and go as I please?

*the prince nods*

[RACEE] Done! I accept!

*she runs and flings herself into his arms, kissing him*
*she turns to the tavern patrons and, amidst the laughter and shouting, sings a final declaration*

Perceptive and rife
With the riches of life.
Together we’ll share
Both our comforts and strife.
I’ll willingly, ardently become his wife.
For how could I live in a wooooooorld . . .
Without this man!?


*Racee and the prince walk off the stage arm in arm, smiling*
Final PC: Regor the Valorious, the ONLY theatrically-inclined half-orc androgyne wandering ALFA, Artistic Director for Cormanthor Stage Productions, one-time stand up pirate and self-educated barrister of the bar.

Former PC: Begor Nightstrummer, Executive Stage Writer and Assistant Director of Planned Gifts for the Roving Entertainment Group of Ruith

Current PC: Sheshe Little Eels
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