ACT I: HIS CHILDHOOD IN BLANDENBERG.: Difference between revisions
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</p> | </p> | ||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; font-size:18pt; letter-spacing: 5px; font-variant:small-caps; text-align: center"> | <p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; font-size:18pt; letter-spacing: 5px; font-variant:small-caps; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 30px;"> | ||
his childhood in blandenberg. | act i: his childhood in blandenberg. | ||
</p> | </p> | ||
<p style="font-family: 'Palatino', 'Book Antiqua', serif; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: left; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | <p style="font-family: 'Palatino', 'Book Antiqua', serif; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: left; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | ||
<em>Bedridden and weak | <em>Bedridden and weak (but heart-wrenchingly precious), a sickly boy of nine lies on a bed of straw. An elderly woman watches over him, brushing his tousled red hair. He sweats profusely, his head twisting to and fro on a soaked pillow. The woman places the brush on a side table and pats his forehead gently with a cool damp cloth.</em> | ||
</p> | </p> | ||
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</p> | </p> | ||
<p style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif, serif; color: #333; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 50%; text-align: center"> | <p style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif, serif; color: #333; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 50%; text-align: center"> | ||
(straining nonetheless) | <em>(straining nonetheless)</em> | ||
</p> | </p> | ||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | <p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | ||
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<p style="font-family: 'Palatino', 'Book Antiqua', serif; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: left; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | <p style="font-family: 'Palatino', 'Book Antiqua', serif; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: left; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | ||
<em>The woman thinks for a moment. Some have accused her of doting on this feeble child, but he was her only grandson. She loved to tell tales and the boy had been confined to bed for years now.</em> | <em>The woman thinks for a moment. Some have accused her of doting on this feeble (though beautiful) child, but he was her only grandson. She loved to tell tales, and the boy had been confined to bed for years now. It was the least she could do.</em> | ||
</p> | </p> | ||
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<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%;text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | <p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%;text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | ||
“How about … ''our'' story, meemaw.” | “How about … ''our'' story, meemaw.” | ||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; font-size:12pt; letter-spacing: 5px; font-variant:small-caps; text-align: center;"> | |||
grandmother | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | |||
“Our story? What do you mean - the story of our family?” | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; font-size:12pt; letter-spacing: 5px; font-variant:small-caps; text-align: center"> | |||
child | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; line-height: 180%; text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | |||
(the delicate child attempts to speak but is overtaken by a coughing spasm) | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; font-size:12pt; letter-spacing: 5px; font-variant:small-caps; text-align: center;"> | |||
grandmother | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | |||
“Alright, dearest. You may remember that your grandfather - may his soul rest in peace - your grandfather and I were from Andarr. Do you know where that is?” | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; font-size:12pt; letter-spacing: 5px; font-variant:small-caps; text-align: center"> | |||
child | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; line-height: 180%; text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | |||
(the child shakes his head) | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; font-size:12pt; letter-spacing: 5px; font-variant:small-caps; text-align: center;"> | |||
grandmother | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | |||
“It’s a place very far from here, far to the west. Why I can still remember the day I first met him, your grandfather: he, a brash and cocky longshoreman; I, just a silly young girl piously making my way to church. He wolf-whistled at me from the docks, can you believe it? And I was fool enough to pay him heed. But he did look so dashing in that navy wool sweater and cap. Oh! How full of himself he was! From the very first, he swore that I would be his, and I laughed heartily at his audacity.” | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; font-size:12pt; letter-spacing: 5px; font-variant:small-caps; text-align: center"> | |||
child | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif, serif; color: #333; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 50%; text-align: center"> | |||
<em>(teasing)</em> | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | |||
“But he got you, didn’t he, meemaw!” | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; font-size:12pt; letter-spacing: 5px; font-variant:small-caps; text-align: center"> | |||
grandmother | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif, serif; color: #333; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 50%; text-align: center"> | |||
<em>(laughing)</em> | |||
</p> | |||
<p style="font-family: 'Georgia'; color: #333; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 180%; text-align: center; padding: 0 70px; margin-bottom: 20px;"> | |||
“Yes, he did. <em>Eventually.</em> Which you know very well, for you wouldn’t be here otherwise.” | |||
</p> | </p> | ||
</div> | </div> | ||
</div> | </div> | ||
Revision as of 22:22, 3 April 2022
kingsley relish iii
act i: his childhood in blandenberg.
Bedridden and weak (but heart-wrenchingly precious), a sickly boy of nine lies on a bed of straw. An elderly woman watches over him, brushing his tousled red hair. He sweats profusely, his head twisting to and fro on a soaked pillow. The woman places the brush on a side table and pats his forehead gently with a cool damp cloth.
grandmother
“There, there. Don’t strain yourself, dearest. Would you like another story?”
child
(straining nonetheless)
“Yes, meemaw. Please...”
The woman thinks for a moment. Some have accused her of doting on this feeble (though beautiful) child, but he was her only grandson. She loved to tell tales, and the boy had been confined to bed for years now. It was the least she could do.
grandmother
“You’ve heard them all so many times you know them better than I, child. Knights and dragons, tournaments and weddings, alliances and betrayals. I’m afraid I have nothing new to tell you.”
child
“How about … our story, meemaw.”
grandmother
“Our story? What do you mean - the story of our family?”
child
(the delicate child attempts to speak but is overtaken by a coughing spasm)
grandmother
“Alright, dearest. You may remember that your grandfather - may his soul rest in peace - your grandfather and I were from Andarr. Do you know where that is?”
child
(the child shakes his head)
grandmother
“It’s a place very far from here, far to the west. Why I can still remember the day I first met him, your grandfather: he, a brash and cocky longshoreman; I, just a silly young girl piously making my way to church. He wolf-whistled at me from the docks, can you believe it? And I was fool enough to pay him heed. But he did look so dashing in that navy wool sweater and cap. Oh! How full of himself he was! From the very first, he swore that I would be his, and I laughed heartily at his audacity.”
child
(teasing)
“But he got you, didn’t he, meemaw!”
grandmother
(laughing)
“Yes, he did. Eventually. Which you know very well, for you wouldn’t be here otherwise.”