MARY. Asides, where would they get frogs from in London?
JANE. They have a fine river you know.
ROSE (firmly). We ent assembled here to bend our ears over who’s got a frog or not.
JANE. I hear tell in France they eat frogs.
GRACE. Ha. Then I wish he would have took it into his skull to do away with the frog then. ’Twould have been a fair treat to see him climbing and jumping round the walls trying to grab and strangle it.
ROSE. Frogs! Frogs! Frogs! Is not frogs we’re concerned for.
GRACE. Would have broke my heart to lose old croker.
ROSE (impatiently). What was his purpose?
GRACE (quietly). He has got his courage up. Seems I am not so far off next choice to swim. (Silence.) Well, is not so remarkable, merely the same road as several of my years have trod before me.
MARY. Hasn’t he made enough money from these parts?
ROSE (gently). So how cam he left you?
GRACE. Not bargained for the dish of tongues I served him. Made off in a rush of great frustration.
JANE. Wager he’ll be back.
MARY (flatly). What a comfort you turned out to be.
ROSE. She be right well enough though.
MARY (panicking). So what are we to do?
JANE (brashly, one hand on her sword). I’ll stand behind the door and slice his brain-pan off his shoulders.
ROSE (with admiration). Did I not tell you she was a good woman. Is she not a good woman Grace?
GRACE. Rose!
MARY. As stars hang in the sky then so should we.
GRACE. And another pricker wilt up in the place of his martyred master.
ROSE. Aye. He’ll not be ‘man enough’ to return hisself so soon. Most probably pay a man tricked out like the divel.
JANE (cheerfully). My cuttle don’t care which prick’s head it cuts off.
GRACE. Their tools, mistress, are best kept from them. Tis not our way.
ROSE. And what pray is our way? (Sarcastically.) Cast a spell?
GRACE. Rose, how many times will you need telling not to lark in such a sour humour.
ROSE. So how are we to prepare ourselves for when the divel cams knocking?
GRACE. This business of carnal copulation with Satan is all new.
MARY (shakes her head). The curse of printing. Ideas spread faster than the plague.
GRACE. Printing is not the curse but them who decide what’s on the lines.
JANE. I have heard tell of a pamphlet which shows more truth of the writers’ blighted minds than of women’s nature.
MARY. And what do you know of their working pattern?
JANE. A man pricked out as the divel cam to alone old woman and does say, ‘I am the divel and I am cam to sleep with thee’. Aye, it sound like a noddy idea but ’tis enough to frighten many out of their wits. And if but a fly cam within arm’s length will be proof enough of imps, but is when he stabs her flesh over and over with a blunt nail to find marks of the divel, do most give in.
GRACE. Aye, the pricker’s not so called for nothing.
ROSE. Is little use us sat recounting our plight, we must prepare for his entrance. (ROSE opens the door a little to keep watch.)
MARY. Save your breath to tell us how.
GRACE. Laughing.
ROSE. Laughing?
GRACE. Aye. ’Tis my new plan. To laugh.
MARY (flatly). I don’t feel like laughing.
GRACE. Takes courage beyond man to carry out duties amidst raucous ridicule.
JANE. Take a courageous man carry out his duties with a rum cuttle ran through him. (She puts her hand to her sword.)
GRACE. That war’s done you no good, girl. Now, this is the plan. You three climb up the tree outside and observe scene through unmended hole in the roof.
MARY. Oh Grace, Thatcher still not cam?
GRACE. Thatcher don’t care ’bout poor folk on parish welfare.
ROSE. For mercy’s sake, I can hear horse hoofs.
GRACE. Signal be, if he so much as poke his finger in my direction – laugh.
ROSE. Right. (She bundles MARY and JANE out of the door.)
MARY. But … Grace. (ROSE pushes her.) But Rose.
ROSE. Get up that tree. (They all climb into the tree.)
MARY. But Rose. Point is, we have nothing to laugh at.
ROSE (whispers). Shush. (She points off.) There he is.
JANE (whispers). Worry not on that matter. I know something their adled brains think we do that will make you giggle till your bladders give way.
ROSE. What?
JANE. ’Tis not so funny in second telling. So wait for signal but be warned not to heed your aching sides but cling firmly to these branches.
Disguised as the devil, the Pricker’s Apprentice has tethered his horse and walks the rest of the distance. Although this is his first mission, he has been well primed and is confident that his mere presence will scare GRACE half to death. Consequently he is unnerved by her response.
APPRENTICE (enters, announcing grandly). I am the divel and I am cam to sleep with thee.
GRACE. If the divel has desires for the flesh he must be made of blood and bone.
APPRENTICE (not the reaction he’d expected; still he must try harder). I see you have several familiars.
GRACE (pulling the chicken out of the pot). You be telling me you be the divel and yer never spied a capon before. Now there’s a thing.
APPRENTICE (confused now, so more aggressively). I am cam for a place in your soul.
GRACE. Stop making a cod’s head of yourself, man. Behave and take thyself off.
APPRENTICE (taking a step nearer). Don’t prank with me, I am the divel.
GRACE. So maybe you think you are. Delusions of this nature, especially of men believing themselves to be a character from the Bible are not uncommon. Would it be a relief to talk about this affliction?
APPRENTICE (is now hard pressed for things the devil might say). You are in my pay.
GRACE. Well, truth to say, I’ve received none of it to date. I am a healing woman, a good one but a poor one.
APPRENTICE. Oh shut thy twittering. (He advances another step closer.)
GRACE. And pray - oh, I see that word don’t shock you none. What have I done that you should pester me so?
APPRENTICE. You are evil.
GRACE. The divel is calling a mere mortal evil?
APPRENTICE. I’ll teach you to mock my powers.
He tries to grab her but she nimbly avoids him.
JANE (to MARY and ROSE). They are of firm belief that women collect male organs and keep them in birds’ nests where they move about by themselves and eat corn and oats.
The three of them screech with laughter.
APPRENTICE. What is this divelry? (He hesitates. The laughter continues.)
GRACE. Run along with you, mister, and tell who ever’s paying you there’s no business for him here.
The Pricker’s Apprentice turns tail and swiftly exits. When he is out of sight, MARY, ROSE and JANE descend from the tree and return to GRACE who is tending to the stew.
ROSE. A wondrous plan, Grace.
MARY. Aye, my face is wet from laughing.
GRACE. You have some peculiar ideas, young Jane but I’ll like you yet, and you took a risk revealing yourself to the meeting.
JANE. I have a text Grace. ‘Where two or three women are gathered together ’tis a risk worth taking’.
ROSE. Tell us of the war.
JANE. The war? The war, Rose, is a fuckin’ bore. Tonight I’m more interested in the conflict around your necks and the purpose of your meeting.
ROSE. The idea belongs to Grace.
MARY. We’re trying to put some words together so we can perform them.
JANE. I’ve not heard of women doing that.
ROSE. We’d not heard of women passing as men till today.
JANE. And when?
MARY. At next lying-in.
JANE. For what purpose?
&nb
sp; GRACE. Is the only time women are allowed to be together.
ROSE. So we can feel less afraid of these evil times against our sex.
JANE. How can it be women of our time are stronger than ever before and yet persecuted worse at same time?
GRACE. When those who are accumbred kick back, the oppressor kicks harder.
JANE. But they pick on frail, defenceless old women. Oh begging your pardon, Grace, but usually by their very age they can offer least resistance.
GRACE. First there is your reason, is easy. Second, some have power, such as they see it in health and advice over women’s bodies, particularly in childbearing. And they want power over that.
MARY. Only there’s not enough of a complex nature about their own bodies to keep their minds occupied.
JANE. But the doctors are not the prickers.
GRACE. New inventions and persecution step together, in time.
ROSE. At least they’re not hypocrites and do call themselves doctors.
JANE (confused). I know not what the word means.
ROSE. To cut up. To doctor – to tamper with in an unnatural way.
JANE. So then – put a stop to me if you’ve heard it – This doctor goes to a cunning woman with a frog on his head and the cunning woman asks, ‘How long have you had that?’ and the frog says, ‘Long since, it started as an abcess on my arse’.
They all laugh including JANE.
GRACE. I see, if nothing else, you have some store of jokes in your head, mistress.
JANE. Aye, well, I know this much. ’Twill be a long time afore the likes of us have money for a doctor to lay his hand on doorpost never mind else.
MARY. And who do you think they’ll practise on?
JANE. I’m not so easily convinced, I’ve heard tell …
GRACE. You seem to have heard tell a lot for a woman of your years.
JANE. The war, Grace, it gets you around. Is best education a girl can have.
GRACE. Par – Glory and killing would seem to my mind to lead to dead end.
JANE. In France.
ROSE. France? How d’you know about France?
JANE. Loyalist always going there.
GRACE (slightly mocking). Oh aye and they confide in you?
JANE. I am nobody’s halfwit. I have change of clothes and curls under this headpiece. I choose safest disguise depending on company I keep.
GRACE. Probably you’re keeping war going single-handed.
ROSE (prompting JANE.) So in France …
JANE. In their history they did burn four hundred women in town square, in one hour, all over country and many low countries besides. Whole villages left with one woman. Just one alive. Was not the doctors’ doing, was the church.
Silence.
GRACE. Certainly sad to say ’twas better when we was all Catholics. At least Virgin Mary was sacred. There’s not a good word to be said for Eve. Though where men reason they cam from if not Eve, I don’t know.
ROSE. They name the name, if it don’t fit they name it again.
GRACE. It won’t stop. Not here nor now. Will not stop till they can give birth and then have choice to do away with us altogether.
JANE (laughs). Oh aye Grace. And when will that be? Before or after they walk on the moon?
GRACE, MARY, ROSE, JANE sing:
And a Man Named Armstrong Walked Upon the Moon
So you think that’s an ironic joke?
At NASA’s celestial poke.
They thrust up a man into space,
But you won’t even think
That they’re on the brink
Of finishing off half our race.
For women have the bodies that breed
And the men just provide her the seed
So love guides the stars in our eyes,
With feet on the earth,
Men can’t control birth,
And a man on the moon is all lies.
For men have ejaculated onto the moon
By rocket, and phallic intent
Has given new meaning to that old famous rune
That for men’s domination the great moon was meant.
There’s a warning here, sisters, let’s take heed of this,
That man on the moon came to earth:
And fucking and love may start with a kiss
And you may control your kids’ birth
But not for long now, they’re taking our place.
Fashioning Star Wars in labs. Winning the race
To eradicate us and give birth by men
Fashioning new wombs inside of them.
So don’t laugh at the technological joke
Of scientists’ long-reaching poke
They’re doing the same thing now with their reproductive technology
And Neil Armstrong gives the Man in the Moon no apology.
Scene Four
Outside.
The same night. Behind an inn. A WOMAN, hands tied behind her back, feet bound, is slumped in a cart. Her daughter, URSULA, watches from a distance. When she perceives no one else is around she runs to her MOTHER, lightly jumps onto the cart and starts to untie her hands. URSULA was born deaf. She makes no sound when she communicates but uses sign language and mouths the words simultaneously.
MOTHER. Oh child, go. Go back lest they find you here.
URSULA, having untied her MOTHER’s hands, proceeds to loosen the ropes around her feet.
(Knocking URSULA’s hands away.) No, no, it’s of no use. (She holds out her hands, which are numb.) My hands are all but dead. Where rope has bitten into them.
URSULA starts to rub her MOTHER’s hands until she can flex her fingers, then she goes to untie her feet. Taking URSULA’s hands away, her MOTHER speaks softly, signing at the same time.
Is no good. Go now and save yourself.
URSULA (signs). Cam, cam back with me.
MOTHER (continuing to sign as she speaks). I cannot. My leg is broken. Is too painful.
URSULA brings out a leather bottle from her skirts. Her MOTHER angrily snatches it away from her and throws it to the ground.
What did I counsel you? You know nothing of herbs or healing. Remember nothing.
URSULA holds her MOTHER’s head in her shoulder.
(To herself). Better to let the water take me and give them proof of my innocence. They cannot then cam looking for you. Born deaf to them is sign of divel’s work.
She gently lifts URSULA’s head, so that she can sign and says:
Go to the big house and I will pray the lady take pity on you and give you work. Quickly afore my gaoler return from his aledrinking.
URSULA lingers.
Please go now.
She kisses URSULA and then gently pushes her away. URSULA looks at her MOTHER, turns, jumps down from the cart and runs.
(To herself). Please God keep her safe. Spare her.
Scene Five
The pond.
GRACE, ROSE, HELEN and MARY stand on the edge of a large crowd. All that can be seen is the cross-bar of the gallows with the top of the rope hanging from it. At the moment the box is kicked away they turn and face outwards, eyes down, unable to look at each other, isolated by a sense of powerlessness and grief. GRACE, HELEN and MARY go off in different directions. The only sound is that of the rope straining against the wood. ROSE is alone. She sits as far away from the scene as possible and picks up two stones, idly knocking them together. Enter a fellow worker, a MAN.
MAN. That be a fine way to spend an afternoon off now, Rose. Cam. Let’s make the best of the sunshine and take us a stroll together. (Silence.) Maybe I’m not earning up to your expectation and it be the farmer hisself you’re hoping for, eh?
ROSE, fists flying, goes for him.
He steps out of the way, laughing.
Oh, I’ll have to be telling the pricker I’ve found one that can fly without a broomstick. Heh, heh.
He wanders off still chuckling. She throws the stones ineffectually after him and then sits down again. URSULA enters, u
nseen by ROSE, stands some distance away, trying to summon the courage to approach ROSE.
ROSE (becoming aware that she is being watched, turns). Who are you? (URSULA doesn’t move.) Don’t worry, I won’t fly at you. What do you want with me? (Pause.) Well, if you don’t speak up how am I to know?
ROSE turns back and resumes staring ahead. URSULA takes a couple of steps towards ROSE but sees JANE approaching and takes fright and goes off. JANE sits next to ROSE.
JANE (gloomily). Seems we didn’t give his apprentice fright enough. (Then:) What are you doing sat there, Rose?
ROSE (flatly). Waiting for the stars to cam out.
JANE. Won’t right yourself by sulking. Is not your tongue that has been stopped in your throat today.
ROSE. Easy words for you. Who was it spoke out last time? Grace.
JANE. Aye. (Pause.) I’d like to see her again afore I go.
ROSE. Go? When?
JANE. With the sun. And hoping it will prompt me to rise afore I’m missed.
ROSE. But I will see you again.
JANE. That be another thing I am hoping for.
ROSE. Can I get word to you?
JANE. Via another soldier perhaps. Though messages are apt to be long forgotten afore they arrive to those receiving them.
ROSE. I will write to you.
JANE (incredulously). You can write?
ROSE. Aye, and read.
JANE. You can read and write?
ROSE. Aye. Can you not hear under that helmet?
JANE. But how?
ROSE. Oft I go over to Grace and we stay awake all night. Her teaching me. Mind, is hard to set to work the next day without falling asleep over my pail.
JANE. Grace can read and write too?
ROSE. Course. I didn’t learn from air. When her father saw he wasn’t to have no sons, he taught her instead. She knows all manner of things that she taught herself besides.
JANE. Like what?
ROSE. Names and properties of herbs and plants and different ways to help heal the body.
JANE. So tell me about them.
ROSE. All that be of more interest to Grace than me. But I know the names of the stars.
JANE. So what are they?
ROSE. I can’t show you now, can I? (Pointing to the sky.)
JANE (carefully casual). Maybe if we couldst meet at night you’d tell me.
ROSE. About best one is named Ursa Major.
JANE. Never heard of it.
Plays One Page 29