31 Plays in 31 Days: #18 - "Chapfallen"

So you may remember that few years ago I directed a little play called Hamlet. Because I was determined to not make it an heavy emotastic dramaslog, I wanted it to be funny in some places to contrast with the tragedy. This led to some decidedly weird bits making it into the final production. One of the weirdest being the idea of Mr. Alex d'Anjou, who played the gravedigger, who ended up being apparently a collector of his dead charges' skulls and the only truly happy character in the play. We began joking about how he must have had a field day with the throne room after the end of the final scene, with all those new pretties to harvest. I have no idea why it came to me today, but that wast the inspiration for today's weird-ass piece.

Day #18 - "Chapfallen"

(A row of skulls of various shapes and sizes sit on a brick wall in a mausoleum. A GRAVEDIGGER in shabby clothes, with another skull hanging on a rope from his belt, enters with a shovel over his shoulder.)

GRAVEDIGGER: Good sooth, my pretties, how fare ye?

(He goes over to inspect the skulls.)

GRAVEDIGGER: Ah, clean and cleaner, I espy. Soon ye shall be smooth and fair as eggs. The beetles well have nibbled off your shabby bits. Alas but there’s not more fine sun for ye, but you’ll blench full in time enough. And I shall tell thy tales.

(He lifts and displays the first one.)

GRAVEDIGGER: Here’s a fair noggin, fair enough to turn the living heads of brothers while she lived. She had two crowns once, flaxen soft with a golden circle nestled in. She won a third when she wed a second king. All those crowns be gone now, but this snowy smooth one quite becomes!

(He replaces that skull and bends to look the second in the eye sockets.)

GRAVEDIGGER: As for thee, thank me prettily, sweet, for I went to pains to dig you from your berth and join ye with your fellows. I though ye need not lie lonely evermore, not when thy company was gathered elsewhere. And no more hurts of thine for them to cast aside!

(He hefts the skull and examines it approvingly.)

GRAVEDIGGER: The lady’s death were doubtful, but her bones do bleach as white as any blameless maid.

(He turns the bulbous skull beside it.)

GRAVEDIGGER: You as well, rescued from the dirt! But I presume thy children are a comfort to thee.

(He picks it up and touches it.)

GRAVEDIGGER: Such a ponderous dome! Were ye as wise as your globe could hold? Or were ye hollow and filled with gusting like a rotted tree, with your blather rattling around within?

(He exchanges it for the next skull.)

GRAVEDIGGER: Through quite the sturdy neck I must needs hack, to harvest this thick head. With more ease I unearthed those others graves, and the blood did fly with my labors! But it matters not to the new strong-armed king, and it pleased him muchly to see thee carried away from his throne room. By any measure a worthy effort, for union of the family. Though from these bare bones alone none would see the likeness.

(He turns around to look a cluster of three nearly identical skulls.)

GRAVEDIGGER: Not so to regard the three of them! Any knave may see the borne resemblance. The brooding brow, the gentleman’s jaw, the lordly straight white teeth.

(He picks up the first two and weighs them in his hands.)

GRAVEDIGGER: Thou hast held up well since thy brother coveted all the things that had been thine! But now all’s well, is it not, for all you have you have alike. Peace between thee at last! But though fine in troth but I see not how princely. Prithee, are the worms in this mud more regal than those in the village churchyard for having et the flesh from the bones of kings?

(He shrugs, replaces the, and turns reverently to the last skull.)

GRAVEDIGGER: Alas, poor princeling! I knew thee. It does me good in my old heart at last to see your forehead smooth and without burden, with none of glinting madness in thine eye. Still, quite chapfallen? Now I spy you grinning! Fear me not, young prince. Perhaps I’ll hang thee on rope beside thy dear old jester, and he may make you laugh at that. The flights of angels have sung, and I remain to tell thy tale.

(He picks up the last skull, and, tossing it happily up and down in his hands, exits.)