their will. Rather the Priest-Kings are seen as being its children, too, like
the sleen, and rain and man. A last observation having to do with the tendency
of some Goreans to accept illusions and such as reality is that the Gorean tends
to take such things as honor and truth very seriously. Given his culture and
background, his values, he is often easier to impose upon than would be many
others. For example, he is likely, at least upon occasion, to be an easier mark
for the fraud and charlatan than a more suspicious, cynical fellow. On the other
hand, I do not encourage lying to Goreans. They do not like it.
“I could have reached out and touched her,†said Marcus.
I really doubted that he could have done that. To be sure, we were quite close
to the stage.
In this part of the performance a light, roofed, white-curtained palanquin had
been carried on the stage by the four turbaned, plumed fellows. It had been set
down on the stage and the curtains drawn back, on both sides, so that one could
see through to the back of the stage, which was darkly draped. Within the
palanquin, reclining there, as though indolently, on one elbow there had been a
slim girl, veiled and clad in shimmering white silk.
“Surely this is some high-born damsel,†had called out the ponderous fellow.
There had been laughter at this. Free women almost never appear on the Gorean
stage. Indeed, in certain higher forms of drama, such as the great tragedies,
rather than let women on the stage, either free or slave, female roles are
played by men. (pg. 256) The masks worn, the costuming, the dialogue, and such,
make it clear, of course, which roles are to be understood as the female roles.
Women, of course, almost always slaves, may appear in mimings, farces and such.
The girl had then, aided by a hand from the ponderous fellow, risen from the
palanquin and looked about herself, rather as though bored. She then regarded
the audience, and at some length, disdainfully. There had been some hooting at
this.
“Surely this cannot be my slave, Litsia?†wailed the fellow.
She tossed her head, in the hood and veil.
“If you are free, dear lady,†said the fellow, “report me to guardsmen for my
affrontery, that I may be flogged for daring to address you, but if you be my
Litsia, remove your hood and veil.â€
As though with an almost imperial resignation she put back her hood and lowered
her veil.
“She is pretty!†had exclaimed Marcus.
Others, too, expressed their inadvertent admiration of the woman.
“It is my Litsia!†cried the ponderous fellow, as though relieved.
The woman drew down her robes a bit, that her shoulders were bared. She held the
robes together before her.
“She is not collared!†cried a fellow.
“Lash her!†cried another.
For an instant the girl blanched and trembled, clutching the robes together
before her in her small fists, but then, in a moment, had recovered herself, and
was back in character. It was easy to tell that she had, at some time or
another, felt the lash, and knew what it was like.
“But surely we are to respect slaves in the new Ar?†inquired the ponderous
fellow, anxiously, of the audience.
This question, of course, was greeted with guffaws, and a slapping of the left
shoulders.
“But my Litsia must have some token of her bondage upon her,†said the fellow.
“Please, Litsia, show us.â€
Quickly the girl thrust the lower portion of her left leg, lovely and curved,
from the robe. On her left ankle was a narrow, locked slave anklet. Then,
quickly, she concealed her leg and ankle again within the robe. The slave
collar, of one form or another, band or bar, or chain or lock, is almost
universal on Gor for slaves. On the other hand, some masters use a bracelet or
anklet. Too, the slaves of others may wear as little to denote their condition
as a ring, the significance of which may be known to few. The bracelet, the
anklet and ring are often worn (pg. 257) by women whose slavery is secret,
largely hidden from the world, though not, of course, from themselves and their
masters. And even such women, when in private with their masters, will usually
be collared, as is suitable for slaves. Indeed, they will often strip themselves
and kneel, or drop to all fours, to be collared, as soon as they enter their
master’s domicile. There are many points in favor of the collar, besides those
of history and tradition. The throat is not only an ideal aesthetic showplace
for the symbol of bondage, displaying it beautifully and prominently, but one
which, because of the location, at the throat, and the widths involved, is
excellently secure. It also makes it easier to leash the female. Also, of
course, by means of it and a rope or chain one may attach her to various rings
and holding devices. Some fellows even bracelet or tie her hands to it. The
collar, too, of course, helps to make clear to the slave, and others, her status
as a domestic animal.
“Show us a little more, Litsia,†begged the ponderous fellow.
Litsia then, rather quickly, but holding the pose for a moment, open the silken
robes, and her knees slightly flexed, and her head turned demurely to the left,
held them out to the sides.
“She is lovely!†said Marcus.
“Yes,†I agreed.
“Surely she is a bred slave, with lines like that,†he said.
“No,†I said. “She was a free woman, from Asperiche.â€
Marcus looked at me, puzzled.
“Yes,†I said.
“Are you sure?†he asked.
“Yes,†I said.
“Interesting,†he said.
“In a sense, of course,†I said, “she is a bred slave.â€
“True,†he said.
It is a common Gorean belief that all females are bred slaves. It is only that
some have their collars and some, as yet, do not.
The girl wore a modest slave tunic, which muchly covered her.
She now drew closed again the sides of the shimmering robe and, once more,
tossed her head, and glanced disdainfully at the audience. Against there was
hooting.
“Some folks,†said the ponderous fellow, “think that I have spoiled her.â€
The girl then put out her small hand and was assisted by the ponderous fellow to
the palanquin again. When she took her place in it, it was lifted.
(pg. 258) It was clearly off the floor. One could see the drapery at the back of
the stage.
“I do trust you will be nice to me this evening?†said the ponderous fellow to
the slim beauty on the palanquin.
She tossed her head and did not deign to respond to him.
He then drew shut the curtains of the palanquin. It was still off the floor.
“Do you think I am too easy with her?†the ponderous fellow inquired of the
audience.
“Yes! Yes!†shouted several of the men.
“Oh, oh!†cried the ponderous fellow looking upward miserably an
d shaking his
fists, helplessly, angrily, in the air. “If only I were not a devoted adherent
of the new and wonderful Ar!â€
There was much laughter.
I gathered that much of the resentment toward the current governance of Ar
tended to be expressed in such places, in shows, in farces, in bawdy travesties
and such. Certain theaters had been closed down because of the articulateness
and precision, and abusiveness, of such satire or criticism. Two had been
burned. To be sure this fellow seemed technically within the bounds of
acceptability, if only just so. Too, it was doubtless a great deal safer now
than it had been a few weeks ago to indulge in such humor. Wisely I thought had
the government withdrawn from its projected policies of devirilization, which,
indeed, had never been advanced beyond the stage of proposals. It had
discovered, simply, clearly, and immediately that most males of the city would
not give up their manhood, even if they were praised for doing so. Indeed, even
the Ubara herself, it seemed, had reaffirmed that slave girls should be obedient
and try to please their masters. So narrowly, I suspected, had riots and
revolutions been averted. Still, I supposed, there might be spies in the
audience. I doubted if the ponderous fellow would be poplar with the
authorities.
“If only some magician would aid me in my dilemma!†wept the ponderous fellow.
“Beware!†cried a fellow in the audience, alarmed.
“Yes, beware!†laughed another fellow.
“If only some magician would waft away my Litsia, if only for a moment, and
teach her just a little of what is it to be a slave girl!†he said.
Several men laughed. I had to hand it to the ponderous fellow. He carried off
the thing well.
“But of course there are no magicians!†he said.
(pg. 259) “Beware,†cried one fellow, he who had been so alarmed, so drawn into
the drama, before. “Beware, lest one might be listening!â€
“I think that I shall speak with her, and plead with her to be a better slave
girl,†said the fellow.
The palanquin was still of course where it had been last, near the center of the
stage, lifted off the floor, by its four bearers. To be sure, as the ponderous
fellow had drawn them, the curtains were now closed.
The audience was very still now.
The ponderous fellow then pulled back the curtains.
“Ai!†cried a fellow.
Several of the fellows, including Marcus, gasped.
“She is gone!†cried a fellow.
Once again, one could see through the open palanquin, to the draperies at the
back of the stage.
The four fellows in turbans, with plumes, then, in stately fashion, as though
nothing unusual had occurred, carried the palanquin offstage.
Men spoke excitedly about us.
I struck my left shoulder, commending the performer for the illusion.
Others, too, then applauded.
The ponderous fellow bowed to the crowd, and then resumed his character.
“I think there is but one chance to recover my slave,†he confided to the
audience, “but I fear to risk it.â€
“Why?†asked a fellow.
“Because,†said the ponderous fellow, addressing his concerned interlocutor
confidentially, with a stage whisper, “it might require magic.â€
“No matter!†said a fellow.
“There is a wicker trunk,†said the ponderous fellow. “It was left with me by a
fellow from Anango.â€
Some of the fellows in the audience gasped. The magicians of Anango are famed on
Gor. If you wish to have someone turned into a turtle or something, those are
the fellows to see. To be sure, their work does not come cheap. The only folks
who are not familiar with them, as far as I know, are the chaps from far-off
Anango, who have never heard of them.
“Of course, he may not be a magician,†mused the ponderous fellow.
“But he might be!†pointed out an excited fellow in the audience.
“True,†mused the ponderous fellow.
(pg. 260) “It is worth a try,†said a fellow.
“Anything to get your rope back on her,†said another.
“Do you think he would mind?†asked the ponderous fellow.
“No!†said a fellow.
I wondered how he knew.
“He may be the very fellow who wafted her away!†said another.
“Yes,†suggested another fellow.
“Perhaps he wants you to use the trunk to recover her!†said another.
“Yes!†said a man, convinced.
“He did say he was my friend,†said the ponderous fellow.
“Fetch the trunk!†said a man.
“Fetch the trunk!†cried the ponderous fellow, decisively, to his fellows
offstage.
Two of the fellows who had borne out the palanquin, their turbans and plumes now
removed, appeared on stage, entering from stage right, the house left, each of
them carrying a trestle. These were placed rather toward the back of the stage,
at the center, about five feet apart. In a moment the other two fellows who had
helped to bear the palanquin, they, too, now without the turbans and plumes, as
there was now no point in such accouterments, their no longer being in
attendance on the insolent slave, also emerged from stage right, bearing a long
wicker trunk, some six feet in length, some two feet in height and two feet in
depth. This was placed on the two trestles. One could, accordingly, see under
the trunk, and about it. It was, thus, in full view, and spatially isolated from
the floor, the sides of the stage and the drapery in the back, several feet
behind it, supported on its two trestles.
“The trunk is not empty!†cried a fellow.
“The slave is within it!†called out another.
“That is no trick!†said another.
“I surely hope the slave is within it,†called the ponderous fellow to the
audience, “as I do wish to recover her!â€
“She is there!†hooted a fellow.
“I hope so,†said the ponderous fellow. “Let us look!â€
He hurried to the trunk and lifted away the wicker lid, which covered it. He set
the lid to one side, on the floor. He then unhinged the back of the trunk from
the trunk sides. It hen hung down in the back, being attached to the trunk
bottom. One could see it, through the trestle legs. He then opened the left side
of the trunk, letting it, too, hang free, except that it hung to the side. It,
too, of course, was attached to the trunk’s bottom. He treated the right side of
the trunk in the same (pg. 261) manner. It, too, naturally, was attached to the
trunk bottom, in the same manner as was the left side. The trunk, in effect, was
being disassembled before the audience. It was now completely open, the back
hanging down in back, and the sides to the sides, except for the front panel,
which the ponderous fellow held in place with one hand.
“Open the front panel!†cried a fellow.
/>
“Show us the slave!†cried another.
“That is no trick!†said a fellow.
“Aii!†cried more than one fellow, as the ponderous fellow let the front panel
drop forward, to the front. The trunk was now completely open.
“The slave is not there!†cried a man.
“She is not there,†said another, startled.
“It would be a poor trick if she was there,†said another.
“Why do you show us an empty trunk?†asked a man.
We could see through to the drapery behind.
“Alas, woe!†cried the ponderous fellow, running his hands about the empty space
now exposed to view. “It is true! She is not here!†He got down on all fours,
and looked under the trunk, and then he lifted up the front panel, running his
hand about under the trunk bottom, which was, say, about an inch in thickness.
He then, seemingly distraught, let the front panel fall forward again. But even
then he went again to his knees and thrust his hand about, to the floor, then
between the trunk bottom and the floor. The front panel, even dropped forward,
was still about eighteen inches from the floor. The floor could be seen clearly
at all times beneath it.
“She is not here!†wailed the ponderous fellow.
“Where is the slave?†asked a man.
“Perhaps she has been kept by the magician,†proposed a fellow, seriously
enough.
“But he is my friend!†protested the ponderous fellow.
“Are you sure of it?†asked one of the more earnest fellows in the audience.
“Perhaps the trunk is not really magic?†said the ponderous fellow.
“That would seem the most plausible explanation to me,†whispered one fellow to
another.
“I would think so,†said Marcus, more to himself than to anyone else.
I looked at him sharply. I think he was serious.
“Do you not think so?†he asked. He was serious.
“Let us watch,†I said. I smiled to myself. Marcus, I knew, was a highly
intelligent fellow. On the other hand he did come (pg. 262) from a culture which
on the whole maintained a quite open mind on questions of this sort, and these
illusions were, I take it, the first he had ever seen. To him they must have
seemed awesome. Too, as a highly intelligent young man, from his particular
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