She makes a sign to COCKRELL, who places his hand in front of Journalist’s camera.
Journalist: Mike Hacker, City Chronicle, your Majesty. My readers will love to be informed about this stirring pageant.
Sheila: (aside) Is this fellow quite mad? – Hold on, Mr Hacker; take your photos now, but for the contest, a private matter, we cannot allow snaps.
JOURNALIST bows and continues to take more photos.
Parker: What’s so ‘private’ about this matter, Sheila?
Sheila: Don’t interfere, Ray. All will be clear. Let’s begin.
Cockrell: Let our champions approach.
WILLY and the WRESTLER step forward.
Sheila: Proclaim the rules to the contestants.
Cockrell: Competitors will fight for a maximum of three minutes. The winner must hold his opponent down for thirty seconds.
Sheila: I hereby wager a valuable necklace as prize to the victor.
She removes from around her neck a gold necklace with a single ruby suspended from it, and hands it to Cockrell.
Referee, take this token into safekeeping while the contest is in play.
Cockrell: When I throw my handkerchief into the ring, contestants touch hands and start fighting.
The fight proceeds with each contestant looking for a handhold. The WRESTLER finds a handhold and they struggle for a minute, before the WRESTLER briefly holds Willy’s shoulders down.
Wrestler: A win, assuredly. I had this fellow on the ground.
Cockrell: You did, but not for the full thirty. I proclaim no decisive result.
They fight on, and in the struggle, the WRESTLER’S mask becomes detached, to reveal TITUS, Delia’s brother.
Willy: What does this mean? Delia’s brother, Titus? This man clearly has a stake in the challenge, and fights on behalf of his sister.
Cockrell: No rules have been contravened. He is still the lady’s champion.
Willy: A choice then more enemy to me than friend, though to be truthful I understand not the cause of his hostility.
Titus: That you did cause my sister’s death.
Willy: That I deny. I feel only sadness for that terrible event, not guilt. I loved your sister.
Titus: And she you apparently. You condemn yourself by your own mouth.
Willy: That she should love me in the way pupils sometimes love their teachers, should that condemn me?
PARKER takes up the cup.
Parker: Titus, I vouch for Willy in this matter. His pedagogic integrity was never in doubt. I pray you, let us together drink to mutual reconciliation.
He drinks and offers the cup to TITUS, who declines.
Titus: Fine words, Major, but I’ll not be content till we have settled this issue by trial of strength.
Sheila: So be it. Then let us drink to a happy outcome to this gentle contest.
She drinks.
Willy, you are flushed; will you not drink before the final bout?
Willy: No, happily at the end of the contest, when I’ll drink as victor.
He flings himself at TITUS and they fight for a further minute, until WILLY gets TITUS in a headlock and holds him down for the prescribed time. COCKRELL throws in a second handkerchief and only with difficulty are the wrestlers separated.
Cockrell: I proclaim the victor, Willy Wagstaff! Our latter-day Hamlet!
PARKER moves across to WILLY.
Parker: Well done, well done.
Sheila: Ray. Come back to the platform. We must observe due ceremony.
Parker: No, I will stay here. Such shows of strength and courage were ever a joy to me.
Sheila: So be it then. It’s my pleasure to announce our Victor Ludorum for the Games. Step forward, Willy – Referee, hand me the necklace. Willy, we drink to your success.
She drinks herself and hands the cup to KILMAN and MINOR, who, in turn, drink from the cup.
And here, I throw into the cup this precious stone in recognition of your courage. Pray hand the cup to our champion that he may join in our happy toasts.
COCKRELL takes the cup to WILLY who raises it, but PARKER snatches it from WILLY’S hands.
Parker: As Headmaster, I should at very least be included in these toasts. I drink to Willy.
Sheila: No, you fool. You quite lose the plot. Do not drink!
Parker: I will. Am I not headmaster?
He drinks and hands the cup to WILLY, who also drinks.
Sheila: (aside) It is the poisoned cup; it is too late.
JOURNALIST steps forward and takes the cup.
Journalist: Now is my chance. Between appearance and reality I now at last distinguish. This all too theatrical presentation can be none other than theatre. I drink to my new vision of truth, and to my great teacher, Willy, king of drama – Uhh, what’s in this cup? I know of better wines.
Sheila: You meddling fool. You will shortly be dead; is that truth enough for you?
Cockrell: Madam, are you well?
Sheila: Of course I’m well, but take these three directly to my apartment.
Sam: Why, Mrs Parker?
Sheila: I’ll explain later. Quick, there may yet be time.
Sam: It’s in the chalice; seize the woman.
KILMAN and MINOR slip away unnoticed.
Laura: Time for what, Mrs Parker?
Sheila: Ray, you meddling fool, how goes it?
Parker: I’m fine. Never felt better. And don’t call me a meddling fool.
Sheila: You’re as good as dead, my dear. The chalice is poisoned.
Parker: But how? You never told me. Why, Sheila?
Sheila: I tried, but you didn’t do your homework.
WILLY groans, and SAM, standing by WILLY, examines the ruby.
Sam: It’s in the ruby. Quick, see to Willy here.
Sheila: There is no remedy for this poison.
She points to where KILMAN stood.
It was him. His idea – where has he –?
Sam: Villainy! Let the gates be locked. Mr Wagstaff, sir, you may yet be well –
Parker utters a groan and collapses on the ground.
Willy: I think not.
He staggers over to SHEILA and tries to force her to drink.
If this be poison, then poison, to thy work –
SHEILA wriggles free and WILLY collapses.
I am faint and you best me. But know, malicious woman, it was never me you hated, but yourself.
Sheila: Hold your peace and pass away. Your arrogant beliefs; I’ve always hated you –
Sam: So, hatred is the name then. Here’s medicine enough to purge that malady.
SAM forces the poison down SHEILA’S throat. Pandemonium among the spectators. Police sirens sounding afar off. Sheila collapses.
Cockrell: Quick, attend her.
Sam: Out of my way, loud-mouthed rooster. Mr Wagstaff, there may yet be an antidote.
Willy: No, I am dead, Sam. But have an eye for Kilman, or else our efforts will have been in vain.
Sam: The gates to the campus are locked. He won’t get away.
Willy: Then all may be well. Relate my story to the world, Sam – it falls to you – the who, the why of most unreal events. Had I breath enough – Yet it is but an instant – seek out Sonny.
He dies.
Journalist: How? Dead? What did I eat last night?
He utters a groan and clutches his stomach Lights start to dim as
JOURNALIST staggers towards the rock, up R, and collapses. There’s a tinkling sound as DELIA appears from behind the rock, points her finger and freezes the entire scene. She stands in a spotlight, near JOURNALIST, who lies writhing and shouting, as though in sleep.
Delia: See how he groans and shakes. Wake, good friend; wouldst be a willing witness to your own death?
Journalist: Where have I been? What did I dream? A dream to make my blood curdle. If this be acting, then I prefer real life.
DELIA moves to down C.
Delia: Do not be alarmed, dear audience. This frightful conclusion was but the dream of
this disturbéd fellow, who ever found most happiness in being discontent. Let our play speak for reality now. I cannot change the past nor shape the future, and, in my current state, am but a transient passenger here. But shortly, ’ere I go, I’m given leave to wind some telling magic round this play, that they, unknowing how it came about, shall each the other find again, as waking from a sleep.
Spotlight slowly dims and stage lights brighten as DELIA performs her magic. She points at WILLY, who stirs, and she wakes each player in turn.
Come quickly, thus, now point the finger,
Sadly I’m forbid to linger,
Now, turning twice, away I’ll go,
In shadow I’ll the others know,
And gently ease them with no haste,
Drowsily back to this place – let light here come,
And thus, depart, my work is done,
Farewell – We have conclusion.
She exits, as police officers, accompanied by BEN, SONNY, KILMAN and MINOR, both handcuffed, enter.
Sam: We need worry no further, Willy. Ben’s here, and these two fiends with him.
Willy: Ben, I thought you were dead, yet you’re here, alive.
Ben: I was dead, but by pretence. I put it out that I was dead, the better to survive.
Willy: Tell me then how all this occurred.
Ben: This boy, Sonny, came in search of me once more and told me all he knew about the events in Kosovo that led to the deaths of his and my father. The two of them were implicated, together with these two criminals here, in a failed business venture, and, to cover up the fraud, Kilman spied a chance, in the turmoil of war, to get rid of his accomplices. One murder led to another and would have led to yours too if these criminals had remained free.
Kilman: (aside) A moment of weakness. I should have killed the mother and the son. The young snake’s returned to bite me.
Willy: Then everything’s explained.
Ben: Not all. Sonny will tell the courts how he wandered, homeless, with his mother, who placed him in this once fine school –
Police Officer: – Enough. All these matters will be revealed in due process.
He indicates SHEILA and PARKER.
Meanwhile, arrest this woman here and her partner, who are more than likely implicated.
He indicates TITUS and COCKRELL.
These men too may well have charges to answer. Lead them both away until their role in these dire actions can be known.
Journalist approaches from the rock.
Ben: Officer, allow this fellow to go free. His offence was little more than to confuse appearance and reality, a mistake we all make from time to time. Meanwhile, Wildmoor should close for a period of healing, reflection and reconciliation, until we can find enlightened management to place it on even keel. Let’s delay no longer; we all have work to do and will endeavour now to restore anew.
Exeunt. The CURTAIN falls.
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