Angry Young Man
14th April 2009, 11:45
Here's a little bit from my (still greatly unfinished) tragedy. The point was to imitate Shakespeare due to the absence of peasant characters. Any constructive criticism would be great, ta.
II.I*
The family cottage. Daniel is an adolescent of fifteen. There is Caleb on his deathbed, Fr. John standing by him, and the family gathered around
PADRE: O Lord, may your son and humble servant ever
Be vouchsafed into your care.
May he be absolved of any misdoing to offend you
And blessed for his just and honest labour.
Amen
ALL: Amen.
All cross themselves. Exit the priest.
CALEB: And for my illness all comfort I get
Is a shriving for the next shrouded life,
Which wraps me in a blanket of numbness,
Blindfolding me evermore before I can see
If even there is a flickering candle
To wake me from the dark.
Nothing shrives me of this very pain
That takes all of what I know of virtue here,
And the same of yesterday, the same one
That has taken my body and mind for seven winters.
Nothing has purified here, that I know:
No mother of mercy soothing my wounds.
Seven years have I been growing
To an evermore parasite,
Like a tick fat on blood, Though not satisfying itself, sees to feed more and more.
I ask for my last dignity
That I die here alone.
Exeunt all but Daniel and Caleb
CALEB: Go thee! Leave this mould to finish rotting!
DANIEL: Father, please hold words with me.
I saw you not as vampire: Never did I
once resent ever keeping you in food,
For once the roles were otherwise,
And all my limbs would be hewn from my trunk
Whether I feed just me, my family or all:
If I sole worked to feed all Yorkshire, my state
Would differ nowt than to feed only we.
The last I spoke with Peter, he said to me
How to see the debt of love I pay –
Righter and juster than any burgled tithe.
I know how Peter’s leaving angered you,
But feel not resentful of his learning.
He never took away his love and said
In solemn oath of his return wherever he be priest.
But my true feeling, that I may be secure to tell,
Is that the Duke and that breed are the ever leeches
Who sleep while we till, we harvest and we tithe.
We are grateful for the gift of our land rented us,
And for this liberty we return him our lives.
He and the race of his thieves are dead but for us.
He and his are no value and yet we are thankful
That we may shred our skins to bare sinew for him.
May we not surely do without them and live for ourselves?
Is it not gross that the value and product of our graft
Is three parts given to idlers?
CALEB: O my dear son had I your wit!
Secretly I always knew the same was true;
You may have spoken if I had all strength
Compacted to one from all men on the Ouse.
I left my life to silent rage,
Grew old at thirty-two
And lived as dead for many years.
I hope your brother as a priest
Lives true to his books and comes
Not as a servant to the Duke, but to us all,
We sufferers with broken bones and stolen stomachs.
When your brother holds the promise he gave you,
Tell him I shrive him by his proper duty.
When his duty is filled he is blessed by the family.
And you, do not like me lie down allowing
The roadway for their band of plunderers;
And see the duty we now pass your brother is done.
DANIEL: Father, rest you easy now,
For if it be victory or death,
I shall have our kind’s revenge.
II.I*
The family cottage. Daniel is an adolescent of fifteen. There is Caleb on his deathbed, Fr. John standing by him, and the family gathered around
PADRE: O Lord, may your son and humble servant ever
Be vouchsafed into your care.
May he be absolved of any misdoing to offend you
And blessed for his just and honest labour.
Amen
ALL: Amen.
All cross themselves. Exit the priest.
CALEB: And for my illness all comfort I get
Is a shriving for the next shrouded life,
Which wraps me in a blanket of numbness,
Blindfolding me evermore before I can see
If even there is a flickering candle
To wake me from the dark.
Nothing shrives me of this very pain
That takes all of what I know of virtue here,
And the same of yesterday, the same one
That has taken my body and mind for seven winters.
Nothing has purified here, that I know:
No mother of mercy soothing my wounds.
Seven years have I been growing
To an evermore parasite,
Like a tick fat on blood, Though not satisfying itself, sees to feed more and more.
I ask for my last dignity
That I die here alone.
Exeunt all but Daniel and Caleb
CALEB: Go thee! Leave this mould to finish rotting!
DANIEL: Father, please hold words with me.
I saw you not as vampire: Never did I
once resent ever keeping you in food,
For once the roles were otherwise,
And all my limbs would be hewn from my trunk
Whether I feed just me, my family or all:
If I sole worked to feed all Yorkshire, my state
Would differ nowt than to feed only we.
The last I spoke with Peter, he said to me
How to see the debt of love I pay –
Righter and juster than any burgled tithe.
I know how Peter’s leaving angered you,
But feel not resentful of his learning.
He never took away his love and said
In solemn oath of his return wherever he be priest.
But my true feeling, that I may be secure to tell,
Is that the Duke and that breed are the ever leeches
Who sleep while we till, we harvest and we tithe.
We are grateful for the gift of our land rented us,
And for this liberty we return him our lives.
He and the race of his thieves are dead but for us.
He and his are no value and yet we are thankful
That we may shred our skins to bare sinew for him.
May we not surely do without them and live for ourselves?
Is it not gross that the value and product of our graft
Is three parts given to idlers?
CALEB: O my dear son had I your wit!
Secretly I always knew the same was true;
You may have spoken if I had all strength
Compacted to one from all men on the Ouse.
I left my life to silent rage,
Grew old at thirty-two
And lived as dead for many years.
I hope your brother as a priest
Lives true to his books and comes
Not as a servant to the Duke, but to us all,
We sufferers with broken bones and stolen stomachs.
When your brother holds the promise he gave you,
Tell him I shrive him by his proper duty.
When his duty is filled he is blessed by the family.
And you, do not like me lie down allowing
The roadway for their band of plunderers;
And see the duty we now pass your brother is done.
DANIEL: Father, rest you easy now,
For if it be victory or death,
I shall have our kind’s revenge.