by Jean Cocteau
MERLIN. Did you think, dumbbell, you were going to stay and sleep off your hangover?
He imitates False Queen.
“Where are we going?” To Camelot, to stave off disaster. The chalk, quick.
FALSE QUEEN. The chalk? What chalk? All I’ve got in my bag are feminine doodads. It was your business to think of the chalk.
MERLIN. We’re lost!
FALSE QUEEN. Wait a moment! There’s just a chance that there’s a piece in the real Gawain’s pocket. You were in such a hurry to make the substitution that you got me all muddled up. Switching from Gawain to Ginifer and from Ginifer to a vamp.
MERLIN. We must get that piece of chalk at all costs.
FALSE QUEEN. That’s easier said than done.
MERLIN. I must have it.
FALSE QUEEN. Segramor and Galahad have found the real Gawain. While you face the row which I see coming, I’ll pick his pocket.
MERLIN. As a precaution, I’ll send a message first. I’ll ruin Launcelot. I’ll ruin them all. Catch a bat for me.
FALSE QUEEN, Oh Mary! What a job for the Queen of Britain!
She climbs onto a piece of furniture and catches a bat.
Here you are. The dear little thing was asleep, hanging delicately by one wing.
MERLIN. Hold its foot out while I tie on a message. Gently, you idiot. That’s right. And now.
He stands at the window.
Fly pitchfork, fly besom, fly up in the air.
The big one has horns and the little one hair.
As far as a rumor, as quick as bad news
Carry my letter wherever I choose.
FALSE QUEEN. “The big one has horns and the little one hair.” What a nice little letter that must be, written, I fancy in your most venomous ink.
There is noise without.
Do you hear that? Your prisoner is free and they’re all coming down.
MERLIN. The swine.
FALSE QUEEN. It looks as though we’re going to be the swill.
The rear door opens. Enter the real Gawain, pale and feverish, his clothes in rags, Galahad, Segramor, and Launcelot. The False Queen backs away into the front left corner of the stage. Merlin stands on the right.
GAWAIN. Where is that scoundrel?
SEGRAMOR. This is the fellow, Gawain, who left you to starve in the turret. Orilus, who was devoted to you, found you before we did and he paid dearly for his discovery.
GAWAIN. The bandit.
He threatens Merlin with his fist and is restrained by Galahad.
He’s going to pay dearly for having kidnaped, imprisoned, and starved the nephew of the King.
MERLIN. Sir Knight, in your absence the King has been enjoying the companionship of a double of yourself; he has become so devoted to him that he may well regret the change.
GAWAIN. Someone has dared to play my role with the King?
SEGRAMOR. And in such a manner that I couldn’t stand you, and no one in the castle could make head or tail of your behavior.
GAWAIN. But Blandine. I tremble to think —
LAUNCELOT, smiling. In that quarter, Gawain, I fancy you have nothing to fear. You’re going to hear some curious stories about yourself.
SEGRAMOR. This person preferred the servant’s hall.
The False Queen raises her head. Segramor jumps.
Oh, I didn’t see him. No? Mother? Not Mother? To have dared involve Mother in this web of sorcery and mystification, this crime of lèse-majesté. Let me go, let me go, Galahad. I’ll teach him.
He rushes toward the False Queen.
FALSE QUEEN, crying out. Don’t hit me.
SEGRAMOR. The coward is in luck. I meant to give him a good thrashing, but I find I simply can’t lay a finger on him.
LAUNCELOT. I understand how you feel, Segramor. Even though one knows perfectly well that it is not her, the feeling is stronger than one’s knowledge.
GAWAIN. So I was living among you all the time. While I was eating my heart out in the turret, I was being robbed of my happiness and my honor. They shall pay for that.
SEGRAMOR. Calm down, Gawain; it’s all over now, thanks to Orilus and Galahad, for without them I should never have discovered that frightful dungeon.
GAWAIN. Order Merlin to remove this odious and embarrassing resemblance. Launcelot, do something.
SEGRAMOR, to Merlin. In the name of my father, the King of Britain, I order you.
MERLIN. Order? How do you know, my fine young prince, to what extent the King approves or disapproves of this setup?
SEGRAMOR. How dare you!
GAWAIN. How dare you pretend that the King is your accomplice!
MERLIN. You needn’t shout, Sir Gawain.
LAUNCELOT. Why not go further and say the instigator of this masquerade …
MERLIN. I shall not explain anything now. I shall wait till I’m permitted to speak.
GALAHAD. You would let it be understood that you are carrying out the orders of your master. I, for one, refuse to believe it and I must ask you to return this young demon immediately to his original shape, that is, if he has one.
FALSE QUEEN. Thank you, Galahad. Indeed I have a shape of my own like any of you and I’m sick and tired of never living inside it. Do you hear, Master?
MERLIN. Ginifer!
FALSE QUEEN. Take the advice of these sensible gentlemen instead of glowering at me.
MERLIN, to the group. Very well, then, I will restore my servant to his own shape. But for that I need something — it’s nothing much, but it’s unfortunately indispensable — just a piece of chalk. Sir Gawain, would you mind looking in your pocket?
Gawain searches in his pocket and finds a piece of chalk.
GAWAIN. What on earth is this piece of chalk doing in my pocket?
MERLIN. Give it to me.
GALAHAD. Just one moment, Gawain. The King’s steward must excuse me, but this was the one thing I lacked.
THE OTHERS. Why? What’s this? Tell us.
GALAHAD. Fellow knights, the Quest is finished. With the help of this chalk you will return to the castle by the same way that these impostors came from it.
MERLIN. You lack the essential thing.
GALAHAD. What?
MERLIN. The formula.
GALAHAD. You’re mistaken, Merlin. I haven’t yet taken the flower back to its owner. You may recall that I came in to fetch it. But finding your attitude suspicious, I left it on the table uncovered.
MERLIN. I’m not as naive as that. I put the cover back.
GALAHAD. I’m sorry to contradict you. I possess the formula and it will be you yourself who will enable them to leave.
MERLIN. You’re lying.
LAUNCELOT. Galahad, aren’t you leaving with us?
GALAHAD. I wish I could, but magic is forbidden me. We have no power over each other. That is my destiny. As soon as this flower has enabled you to depart, I shall tear off a leaf, repeat my former message, and then take the box back to Bagdemagus.
LAUNCELOT. Whereabouts in the castle will this formula land us?
FALSE QUEEN, skipping around. In the hunting lodge! In the hunting lodge. You leave from the council chamber and you arrive at the hunting lodge.
Merlin represses a gesture of rage. All the chessmen noisily arrange themselves on the board. Silence and a general uneasiness. All eyes turn toward the table. The False Queen falls on her knees at the right of the stage.
MERLIN. Don’t forget, Ginifer, that you serve a master who is stronger than you.
GALAHAD. Come, all of you. Good-by, Merlin.
MERLIN. We shall meet again presently, Sir Galahad.
GALAHAD. AS you say, presently.
Galahad leads out Launcelot, Gawain, and Segramor. At the threshold Gawain turns and spits at Merlin. Segramor follows suit. Exeunt.
MERLIN, going to the window, right. Spit away! My little bat will be there before you.
FALSE QUEEN. You’re getting past it, Master. If I were you, I’d drop the whole business. These people have the whip han
d over us.
MERLIN. Over both of us.
He advances toward the False Queen when suddenly Galahad’s voice is heard behind the door speaking very distinctly.
GALAHAD, offstage. Are you ready?
FALSE QUEEN. Listen.
They both put their ears to the door, facing each other, one on each side.
GAWAIN, offstage. I’ve drawn the circle.
LAUNCELOT, offstage. Blindfold yourselves.
SEGRAMOR, offstage. Do we travel underground or do we fly?
GALAHAD, offstage. Neither, I believe. Don’t move. I’m going to begin now. You’ll hear a rather instructive dialogue.
The voices of Merlin and the False Gawain are heard as in Act One.
VOICE OF MERLIN. Where am I?
VOICE OF FALSE GAWAIN. On the edge of the circle with your back to the window and the Table. Is that all right?
VOICE OF MERLIN. Good. Take the chalk with you. Blindfold yourself.
VOICE OF FALSE GAWAIN. Now, I can’t see a thing.
VOICE OF MERLIN. Hop onto my shoulders pickaback, and hold on.
MERLIN, in a furious whisper to the False Queen. The box was covered. It was you, you who uncovered it again. Who else could it have been? I know it was you.
FALSE QUEEN, in a furious whisper. How can you suggest such a thing!
VOICE OF FALSE GAWAIN. Hold me tight, won’t you? I’ve the impression that we’re going to cross places where a fall would be most uncomfortable.
During what follows, the final scene of Act One is repeated offstage.
MERLIN. You know, don’t you, what it costs to betray me?
FALSE QUEEN, avoiding Merlin by jumping this way and that. Don’t hurt me. I can’t bear it. When the ship is sinking, it’s every man for himself. It’s your own good I’m thinking of.
MERLIN. I suppose it was for my own good that you opened the box, for my own good that you forgot the chalk, for my own good that you gave away the whereabouts of their return.
FALSE QUEEN. Yes, it was. It was. It was. To get rid of them and force you to pack up. I wouldn’t care to be in your shoes. Let’s have a change of air. Take me along with you. Let’s go back to my godmother, Morgana. Please, please, don’t let’s go back to Arthur’s castle.
MERLIN. That’ll do.
He listens…
VOICE OF MERLIN.
For up shall be down and left shall be right
As we gallop—pell-mell—down the sorcerer’s road.
VOICE OF FALSE GAWAIN.
By the rat and the bat and the owl of the night,
By he-goat, by she-goat, by weasel, by toad.
The voices are silent.
MERLIN. They’re already far away. You can congratulate yourself on your handiwork. That’s what I get for saving you from Klingsor’s claws.
FALSE QUEEN, in a whining voice. You’re so strange (strynge). Am I to blame (blyme) if you won’t listen to my advice, if you’re determined to break (bryke) your neck?
MERLIN. GO on, go on.
FALSE QUEEN. In the end I couldn’t stand it. Didn’t I tell you time and time again that it was crazy to rig me out in veils and petticoats when I’ve never been taught how to manage them?
MERLIN. You got drunk.
FALSE QUEEN. Suppose I did. I got drunk because I lost my head and didn’t know what line to take. Launcelot is no fool. You seem to imagine that you’re the only person in the world who knows anything.
MERLIN. I shall hand you over to Klingsor, and the two of us will put you back in that bottle.
FALSE QUEEN. First let me out of this disgusting drag.
MERLIN. Get out of it by yourself, my friend, since you think I’m so old and good for nothing.
FALSE QUEEN, clasping her hands. Don’t be angry. I was only joking. Please be kind and let me out of this drag.
MERLIN. It’s only fair that I should let you out of it, or rather, that I should lock you up in Gawain’s place. That’s what you deserve.
FALSE QUEEN. Lock up your factotum? Your slave? Your son?
MERLIN, looking through the window. The horses!
FALSE QUEEN. What do you mean, the horses?
MERLIN. It’s Galahad. After taking his own horse, he cut the others loose. They were our one and only means of arriving in time.
FALSE QUEEN. To learn that we have been expelled.
MERLIN. Or that the Queen has been expelled.
FALSE QUEEN. What are we to do now? What about my white Arab?
MERLIN. Your Arab, ours, theirs. Galahad has cut off our retreat.
FALSE QUEEN. There you are, Master. Fate is against us. Why not set up house somewhere else? Haven’t you squeezed Camelot like an orange?
MERLIN. I must have my revenge.
FALSE QUEEN. What ugly words to hear from you, who are always so noble and just.
MERLIN. Shut up. Run and catch a couple of horses. We have no option.
FALSE QUEEN. Run and catch horses? If that’s what you want, take away my false petticoats and give me back my nimble legs.
MERLIN. I’m sick of hearing about your petticoats. I’ll free your limbs on condition that you catch the horses.
FALSE QUEEN. I will, I promise.
MERLIN. I don’t know why I bother about you. You don’t deserve it.
FALSE QUEEN. Who else can fetch the horses back?
MERLIN. Take care!
FALSE QUEEN. I didn’t mean it. I’ll be good. As good as gold. Change me back into Ginifer and I’ll catch you a couple of horses.
MERLIN, shrugging his shoulders. All right. Then we mustn’t dawdle. Get two chairs.
The Fake Queen obeys.
Set one against the other. Not like that, you fool, like this.
He puts them center stage facing the audience, slightly apart.
Lie down on them. No. On your stomach.
FALSE QUEEN. Don’t be so rough.
MERLIN. Since I’ve no rope, these curtains will have to do.
He tears some old curtains off their rods.
You must be tied up.
FALSE QUEEN. It looks as if you were going to put me on a spit and roast me.
MERLIN. Another knot.
FALSE QUEEN. They’re cutting into my ankles. Ow. Ow.
MERLIN. Shut up. Do you want to leave here, or don’t you?
FALSE QUEEN. God knows what you’re capable of. You’re not going to turn me into a horse, are you?
MERLIN, bursting into laughter. Now, that’s an ideal
FALSE QUEEN. Master, Master, I didn’t say a word.
MERLIN. On the contrary, that’s the first sensible suggestion you’ve made.
FALSE QUEEN, struggling. No, mercy, no, have pity. What use is a horse to you at this stage?
MERLIN. For a sorcerer, there are no stages. But I won’t be betrayed.
FALSE QUEEN. I’ll never do it again. I’ll obey you. I’ll do whatever you say. Ow. You’re squeezing me to death.
MERLIN. Why didn’t I think of this sooner?
He casts a spell over Ginifer.
FALSE QUEEN. You beast! You filthy beast! You old billy goat! You old basilisk! You swine! You swine! You swine!
MERLIN, sits astride the Fake Queen, grasping her braids as if they were reins.
In the name of the monkey, in the name of his son,
Let five be eleven and twenty be one,
Let rivers turn backwards and flow to their source,
And the queen who is no queen,
And the queen who is no queen,
The queen who is no queen become a white horse.
He repeats the last lines without stopping, faster and faster.
And the queen who is no queen,
And the queen who is no queen,
The queen who is no queen become a white horse.
FALSE QUEEN, at the top of her lungs. Let me go! Let me go! Help! Have mercy! My bones are breaking! He’s tearing my hair out! I’m on fire! I’m dying! Have mercy! Help! Help!
Holding her
braids in one hand and whipping his mount with the other, Merlin goes on reciting the last lines of the formula. The wind of the end of the first act rises. Darkness and flashes. The walls disappear.
CURTAIN
ACT THREE
The Queen’s chamber in the castle at Camelot. The Queen is seated at a writing table in her dressing gown. The King is pacing up and down. One has the impression that the discussion has already been going on for a very long time.
GUINEVERE. I want to sleep. Have I your permission to retire?
ARTHUR. Not until you’ve given me an answer. I’ve absolutely got to have an answer.
GUINEVERE. I’ve told you already, Arthur, that we’re living in a dim twilight where there is no difference between night and day, no natural reason why one should get up or go to bed. Our nerves are all on edge waiting for this inexplicable phenomenon, which is contrary to all our habits, to be over. The Grail has left us. Is it nighttime? It feels like it. The castle is asleep. The servants are asleep. The animals are asleep. I’m dead tired, Arthur. I want to sleep. Have I your permission to retire?
ARTHUR. You’re still avoiding the issue. I’ve asked you certain definite questions. Our honor and happiness depend on your answers, and all you will say is that I am preventing you from sleeping, that it is nighttime — when it isn’t, and that we should follow the example of the animals, when this house has just been struck by lightning.
GUINEVERE. This house has only been struck by lightning in the sense that the Grail has scattered our circle and interrupted the pleasant existence we were leading. I sympathize with your distress, but I fail to see why that distress should be turned against me.
ARTHUR. Madam.
GUINEVERE. Is it my fault that Galahad came through the ordeal triumphantly, that the Grail spoke, that your nephew lost his head and made the others, including you, lose theirs? Who was it who brought you to your senses when you were as carried away by excitement as any of them? It is thanks to me that your minister has promised to bring our mad friends back to the castle. If there was any thunderstorm, it was this rushing off. It has struck us so hard that I don’t blame you for losing your self-control.
ARTHUR. Madam, Madam.
GUINEVERE. Come now. Are you so superstitious that the mere entry of a bat into the council chamber is enough to alter your whole attitude toward me, after making a scene unworthy of your rank and age? The truth is, Arthur, that this unhappy Whitsuntide has depressed you, and you are taking as a symbol of unhappiness a harmless creature who is only, like us, a victim of the Grail and its mysteries.