THE BATTLE OF BROWN AND WHITMORE By David J LeMaster Copyright 2004

Transcription

1 THE BATTLE OF BROWN AND WHITMORE By David J LeMaster Copyright 2004 (A bare stage. Two actors (or actresses), BROWN and WHITMORE, approach each other.) WHITMORE: We meet at last, Brown. BROWN: Yes, Whitmore. I ve heard all about you. WHITMORE: And I you. BROWN: Your reputation is impeccable. WHITMORE: They say you first played Hamlet at twelve. BROWN: Eleven. WHITMORE: You ve been in over five hundred Hamlets worldwide. BROWN: Indeed. WHITMORE: They raved in the Times. BROWN: And you, Whitmore, you played Willy Loman at eight. WHITMORE: I did. BROWN: The complete works of Aristophanes at twelve. WHITMORE: Yes. BROWN: And Leer at thirteen. WHITMORE: The Post called it the greatest Leer ever played by a thirteen year old. They said I found Leer s overriding humor. BROWN: So you know why I m here. WHITMORE: I think so, yes, because they say you re the best in the business. BROWN: I am. WHITMORE: But you ve never faced me. BROWN: So it comes to that, does it? WHITMORE: It s inevitable. BROWN: There can only be one greatest. WHITMORE: So this shall settle that. Copyrighted material. All rights reserved. Caution: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that this play is subject to a royalty. Performance rights may be purchased from Dominion Publications. ALL FURTHER INQUIRIES CONCERNING PERFORMANCE RIGHTS, INCLUDING AMATEUR RIGHTS, SHOULD BE DIRECTED TO BROOKLYN PUBLISHERS LLC, PO BOX 248, CEDAR RAPIDS, IA ( ,

2 BROWN: It shall. WHITMORE: I ll prove my range. I can act every emotion. BROWN: As can I. WHITMORE: Oh? Then prove it. (Pause. They look at each other, considering. Then, a challenge ) Happiness! (Both are happy.) Sadness! (Both are sad.) Fear! (Both are fearful.) Excitement! (Both are excited.) Anger! (Both are angry.) Ah! Frustration. (WHITMORE shows frustration. BROWN does not.) What? You can act frustration no better than that? BROWN: No. I was making a statement. I m really frustrated. WHITMORE: Oh. BROWN: It will take more than a simple contest to determine who is greatest. As I feared, it will actually require a fight. WHITMORE: Then I m your man. BROWN: So it must be that. Very well. WHITMORE: Your choice of weapons? BROWN: Tragedy, at five paces. WHITMORE: Tragedy? Are you sure? BROWN: I ve found your weakness? WHITMORE: I have no weakness. BROWN: No? The quiver in your voice suggests you wished for comedy. WHITMORE: Never. Comedy is your strength! BROWN: Ah! And I chose tragedy, which confuses you, eh, Whitmore? Doubting the wisdom of your spies? WHITMORE: No. Tragedy it is. BROWN: Very well. WHITMORE: Five paces? BROWN: Five. Count? WHITMORE: Of course. (They stand back to back.) After five, turn and perform. BROWN: Right. WHITMORE: Ready? BROWN: Ready. WHITMORE: (They pace.) One. Two. Three. Four. Five - (They whirl and speak at once.) WHITMORE: O, that this too, too sallied flesh would melt, thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! BROWN: (at same time) If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended - WHITMORE: (reacting to BROWN) Aaarrrrg!! You devil! You swore tragedy but you ve chosen comedy! BROWN: My specialty! You re wounded, I see. WHITMORE: A scratch. A scratch!

3 BROWN: But tis enough. Call on you tomorrow and I shall find you a grave man! WHITMORE: Aaaarg! Not the old play/genre switch! BROWN: Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow! WHITMORE: You re hitting me with Leer! BROWN: You cataracts and hurricanes, spout - WHITMORE: Please! BROWN: Had enough? WHITMORE: No! You re butchering it. BROWN: You devil! You cataracts and hurricanes, spout - (WHITMORE takes up the soliloquy. They re both doing Leer.) BOTH: Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires! Vaunt-couriers to oakcleaving thunderbolts, singe my white head!!!! (They both collapse, exhausted. Pause.) WHITMORE: You re a worthy opponent. BROWN: Indeed. WHITMORE: I fear but one of us shall walk away still living. BROWN: Your challenge is well met. WHITMORE: Then how shall we settle this? BROWN: By scenes. WHITMORE: Villain! BROWN : You are afraid? WHITMORE: Never. BROWN: You jest. Your face turns yellow. WHITMORE: It isn t. BROWN: Like your belly. WHITMORE: A yellow belly? BROWN: Yellow bellied coward. WHITMORE: You ve insulted me for the last time, you dog. You filth. You mangy cur. BROWN: Your witticisms are no match for my razor-sharp wit. WHITMORE: No, they re not your equal. BROWN: Certainly not. WHITMORE: For you are but a half wit. BROWN: (furious) What? You ll pay for that! WHITMORE: You mean - BROWN: The challenge. (takes out a glove and swipes WHITMORE across the face) To the death. As you wish! WHITMORE: The weapon? BROWN: Scenes. WHITMORE: Scenes it is!

4 BROWN: Who goes first? WHITMORE: A gentleman would yield. BROWN: I am no gentleman. WHITMORE: My point. WHITMORE: (takes out coin) We ll flip. BROWN: Heads or tails? WHITMORE: Tails. BROWN: It s heads. WHITMORE: Curses. BROWN: Your play, sir, and may the best actor win. WHITMORE: (thinking) I choose... I choose... I choose... I choose... Ah! The duels of Mercutio, Tibolt and Romeo! BROWN: Romeo and Juliet. One man? It cannot be done. WHITMORE: (As HE starts the scene, WHITMORE physically demonstrates each character and uses the character s voice when HE speaks the character s name. Through this scene, WHITMORE plays each character with both physicalization and voice. After introducing each of the characters, HE jumps back and forth between them at will. The playwright has identified the character shifts in parenthesis.) But I shall. The scene: A public court of men. The players: The Montagues (demonstrates) all regal, proud. The boy: Romeo. (demonstrates) Clean Romeo. Good-hearted Romeo. Impetuous Romeo. (demonstrates Romeo) And the friend. Mercutio. (demonstrates) Clownish. A buffoon. Headstrong. Stubborn. (himself) In waltzes Tibolt, (does Tibolt walk) that rat-catcher, that king of cats, who does seek to do Romeo harm. (as Tibolt) Mercutio? Thou consortest with Romeo? (Mercutio) Consort?! And Romeo (as Romeo-wimpy) I do protest I never injured thee, but love thee better than thou canst devise. (himself) And so, the fight! (Mercutio) Tibolt! (Tibolt) What wouldst thou have with me? (Mercutio) Nothing but one of your nine lives! (himself) They fight! (Tibolt) On guard! (thrusts, parries, etc., as Tibolt) What ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ha! (himself) And Mercutio, the clown. (clown fighting as Mercutio) Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ah! (himself) Romeo, the impetuous gets in the way. (Romeo) Hold, Tibolt! Good Mercutio! (as Tibolt) A final thrust! (as Mercutio) Aaarrrg! (as himself) The dreadful cut of death! Mercutio struggles: (as Mercutio) Why the devil came you between us? (as Romeo) I thought all for the best. (as Tibolt) A plague on both your houses! You have made worms meat of me! (as himself) Romeo swears revenge. (as Romeo) This day s black fate on more days doth depend, this but begins the woe others must end! (as himself) Whatever that means. (as Tibolt) Thou wretched boy that didst consort him here, shalt with him hence. (as Romeo) This shall determine that! (as himself) The fight. Tibolt (as Tibolt) What ho!

5 Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ha! Romeo. (as Romeo) Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! (as himself) And then, the thrust! (as Romeo) Thrust! (as himself) Tibolt is struck. (as Tibolt) What? Ahhhh! (as Romeo) O, I am fortune s fool! (as character) Romeo, away, be gone! (as himself) And gone!!! (Pause) BROWN: Oh, you villain. You most vile, pernicious villain. WHITMORE: (breathless) Have I won? BROWN: Not yet. Not quite yet. WHITMORE: Surrender, fool. BROWN: Never. My work - WHITMORE: Yes? BROWN: The tragedy of Othello. The Moor. WHITMORE: Which scene? BROWN: The end. WHITMORE: Criminy?! You ll play both men and women? BROWN: Aye. WHITMORE: Very well. Speak your peace. BROWN: Othello. Brave. Warrior. An African Muslim in Italy. Out of his place. But valiant. Pure. (as Othello) It is the cause. It is the cause, my soul. WHITMORE: Great Lucifer s beard, you re daring! BROWN: Do you mind? WHITMORE: Sorry. BROWN: (again, once the character voice and physical movement are established, the actor should go back and forth between characters at will) The villain, Iago - a snake, a white-bearded Satan, a friend to your face, the enemy when you re turned. (as Iago) I hate the Moor; and it is thought abroad that twixt my sheets he s done my office. (as himself) And Emilia, Iago s wife - an opportunist, a backstabber, a feminist! (as Emilia) Let husbands know, their wives have sense like them. (as himself) And last, Desdemona, Othello s wife devoted, loving, pure as snow. (as Desdemona) Willow. Willow willow willow willow. (as self) But suspected by Othello. For Iago has said of Cassio, (as Iago) In sleep I heard him say, Sweet Desdemona, cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor! (as self) and Othello believes, for the fool, Cassio (as Cassio) Reputation! Reputation! Reputation! (as self) has fallen for Iago s trick and carries Othello s sacred handkerchief, the one his mother gave him, and he gave Desdemona. The scene: Othello s bedroom. The deed? Murder! He approaches the bed: (as Othello) Zounds! I ll not shed her blood. Yet she must die. Put out the light, and then put out the light. (as Desdemona) Talk you of killing!? (as Othello) That handkerchief which I so lov d and gave

6 thee, thou gav st to Cassio! (as Desdemona) I never gave it to him. (as Othello) He hath confessed! Oh, thou strumpet! (as himself) He smothers her! (acts out Othello putting pillow over her face) Oh! She fights him. (acts out Desdemona fighting) He smothers. (more Othello) She fights. (more Desdemona) He wins. (Desdemona dies a dramatic death. HE becomes Othello and weeps. As Othello.) It is too late. (as himself) She speaks again after her death. (as Desdemona) O Lord, Lord, Lord! (Othello) Not dead? Not quite dead!? (back and forth as Othello and Desdemona struggling. Speaks as Othello) I... that... am... cruel... am yet merciful. So. So. (as himself) But anon comes as I never gave you cause. And Emilia! (as Emilia) O thou dull Moor! That handkerchief I found (as Iago) Filth, thou liest! (Iago stabs Emilia. HE reacts as Emilia to being stabbed. As Othello.) I look down towards his feet; but that s a fable. If that thou be st the devil, I cannot kill thee. (Mimes taking out a dagger and lunges as Othello. Pause. Then, as Iago.) I bleed, sir, but not killed. (as Othello) I am not sorry either! I d have thee live, for in my sense tis happiness to die. (Mimes committing suicide with a dagger; HE dies a dramatic death. As HE performed, WHITMORE shrank deeper and deeper into exhaustion. By the death of Othello, both are spent, hardly able to lift their heads.) WHITMORE: I bleed, sir, but not killed. BROWN: (exhausted) Villain. WHITMORE: What now? BROWN: You ll have to finish me off. Point-blank combat! WHITMORE: Then comedy. BROWN: But you re not funny. WHITMORE: Villain! I ll make you pay. BROWN: Name your weapon. WHITMORE: A Midsummer Night s Dream. BROWN: I can play it all myself. WHITMORE: You wouldn t dare. BROWN: The men. (demonstrates) The ladies. (demonstrates) The demons and the fairies. (demonstrates) WHITMORE: Ghastly. BROWN: You devil. WHITMORE: We ll play the play. BROWN: You mean - WHITMORE: The most lamentable comedy and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby. BROWN: You mustn t! WHITMORE: (as Pyramus) Come, tears, confound. BROWN: Stop! WHITMORE: Out sword and wound the pap of Pyramus.

7 BROWN: Ay, that left pap. WHITMORE: Fiend! BROWN: Where the heart doth hop. WHITMORE: Thus die I. (The following exchange is the end of the battle. They re both barely able to muster the words and the energy to mime thrusting daggers.) BROWN: Thus. WHITMORE: Thus. BROWN: Thus. WHITMORE: Now I am dead. Now I am fled. The moon is in the sky. BROWN: Tongue, lose thy light. WHITMORE: Moon, take thy flight. BOTH: (acting) Now die. Die. Die. Die. Die! (Both collapse. Blackout.) END OF PLAY

8