All of the work, including photographs and text, on this and the other ScapeSpeare pages is courtesy of PyeCat, who generously allowed us to post it. His website, Focus on Farscape, is loaded with outstanding convention reports. 


ACT THREE

SCENE ONE

Enter OLIVIA stage left, and AERYN stage right. OLIVIA tries to turn and leave again before she is seen, but fails.

AERYN:
John!

OLIVIA:
Mílady Sun ...

AERYN:
Am I still so ... strange in thine eyes?

OLIVIA:
I am stranger still in mine own.

AERYN:
So like my John ... a simple question, and thy retort a complex confusion.

OLIVIA:
ĎTis sadly the way of the world, lady, when one falls down the wormhole. Not even a White Rabbit for thy guide...

AERYN:
Your thoughts a tangle ... yet still blanks where they should be filled with me?

OLIVIA:
Dear lady -

AERYN:
Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here
Handcuffs in chase of you, pink and fuzzy.
I wished to hold thee til thy memory was jogged,
But I fear in so doing I misused
Myself, my servant, and I fear you.

OLIVIA:
I took none offense.

AERYN:
Yet still remember you nothing? Not our first meeting, when upon your hard construction I did sit? None the long cycles, fighting side by side? Nor our betrothal interruptus nor the birth of our son?

OLIVIA:
Stop, mílady, I pray you ... stop for pityís sake.

AERYN:
Pityís a degree to love ...

OLIVIA:
No, not a grize, for Ďtis a vulgar proof
That very oft we pity enemies.

AERYN:
I did none, before you.

BRACA enters behind the ladies, pushes them closer to the mics, and exits again.

OLIVIA:
Peace, gentle lady. You are not what you were.

AERYN:
Aní now I fear I think the same of you.

OLIVIA:
Then think you right. I am not what I was. I am sorry.

AERYN:
I would you were as I knew thee to be.

OLIVIA:
Would it ever be better than it was?
Would I the power to uncross these stars...

OLIVIA and AERYN look at each other sadly for a long moment; then turn and exit as they came.

SCENE TWO:

When the ladies are gone, CRAIS pops up from hiding near stage right, storming towards stage left like a child having a tantrum. RYGEL is not far behind.

CRAIS:
No, frell, Iíll not stay a jot longer!

RYGEL:
Thy reason, dear Captain, give thy reason.

CRAIS:
Thy lady Sun, I saw just now...she yet loves that Erpman Crichton! And he longer stands any deader than me!

RYGEL:
Bah! Crichton is but past, you are present and future! I assure thee my boy, youíre the forerunning suitor! She did show favor to the human in your sight only to exasperate you, only to awaken your vorc-like valor, to put fire in your heart and brimstone in your spleen. Nowís the time to win her favor for all, by some laudable attempt either of valor or policy.

CRAIS:
Aní it be any way, it must be with valor, for policy I hate. I had as lief be a luxan as a politician.

RYGEL:
Erm. Yes. Why then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valor. Challenge me Crichton to fight with him. Hurt him in eleven places. Aeryn shall take note of it, and assure thyself, there is no love broker in the world can more prevail in manís commendation with woman than report of valor.

CRAIS:
Will you then bear me a challenge to him?

RYGEL:
Go, write it in thy martial hand. Be curst and brief. About it.

CRAIS:
Right.

Exit CRAIS stage right. RYGEL follows. A moment. RYGEL returns stage right, carrying a letter. He reads, inserting his own comments.

RYGEL:

Crichton, thou art but an inferior fellow.

Hail, Captain Crais of the Obvious.

Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for it. Thou comeíst to the Lady Aeryn, and in my sight she uses thee kindly. But thou liest in my throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for. I will meet thee in the garden, where if it be thy chance to kill me -

Good, good.

Thou killíst me like a rogue and a villain. Fare you well, and gods have mercy upon one of our souls. He may have mercy on mine, but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, of a sort, in Season Three, and thy sworn enemy in Season One ... Captain Sir Bialar Crais.

Methinks ... I will deliver the challenge by word of mouth.

SCENE THREE:

Enter OLIVIA stage left. She moves upstage left, thinking to herself (perhaps doing her brother's ďlip thingĒ?). Enter HARVEY stage right, dressed in the jersey of a referee, a whistle around his neck (he also has his yellow cross gartered stockings!). He moves to center stage exactly, stops, and blows the whistle.

Play Trout!

HARVEY:
BRACA!

Enter BRACA carrying a bucket of (stuffed) trout.

BRACA:
Coming, sir!

Enter CRAIS stage right, who stops upstage right, opposite to and glaring at Olivia, and RYGEL, who continues past Crais and Harvey to move confidentially to Oliviaís side. HARVEY gestures for BRACA to go over beside Rygel. RYGEL hands OLIVIA a trout. BRACA then cross the stage to hand a trout to CRAIS - a very tiny trout - before returning to HARVEYís side. CRAIS does lots of absurd stretching exercises and jogging in place. (Looking less a fighter and more like Mother Nature is calling.)

RYGEL:
Good sir, thy trout.

OLIVIA:
What?

RYGEL:
That defense thou has, betake thee to Ďt! Of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not, but thy interceptor, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the gardenís end. Hold fast thy trout, be yare in preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skillful, and deadly.

OLIVIA:
You mistake, sir. I am sure the good Captain hath no quarrel to me. My remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offense done to any man.

RYGEL:
Gods and good men hate so foul a liar, Crichton. I almost could love thee for it! Therefore, if you hold your life at any price, I say betake you to your guard.

OLIVIA:
This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offense to him is. It is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.

RYGEL:
I will do so.

RYGEL crosses to CRAISís side.

RYGEL:
Why, man, heís a very devil. I had a pass with him once, trout, scabbard and all, and he gives me the stuck-in with such a mortal motion that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hits the ground they step on. I once asked him for my personal fencer, but heíd have none. Too little action in my challenges, he said!

CRAIS:
Pox on Ďt, Iíll not meddle with him!

RYGEL:
Aye, but he will not now be pacified. Braca can barely hold him yonder.

CRAIS:
Plague on Ďt! Had I remembered him so valiant and cunning in fence, Iíd have seen him damned ere Iíd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip and Iíll give him my ship, Talyn.

RYGEL:
Iíll make the motion. Stand you here, make a good show onít. This shall end without the perdition of souls. (Aside, chuckling to himself and the audience) Marry, my Captain, Iíll take thy Talyn at last as well as I take thee!

RYGEL crosses to OLIVIA.

RYGEL:
Thereís no remedy, sir. He will fight with you for his oathís sake. Marry, he hath thought better of his quarrel, and he finds that now to be scarce worth talking of. Therefore, draw for supportance of his vow. He protests he will not hurt you. But give ground if you see him furious.

OLIVIA:
Pray God defend me! (Aside to the audience) A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.

RYGEL crosses to CRAIS.

RYGEL:
Come, Sir Crais, thereís no remedy. The Erpman will, for his honorís sake, have one bout with you. He cannot by the Pangalactic Dueling Code avoid it. But he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a scientist, he will not hurt you. Come, on, toít.

CRAIS:
Pray gods he keep his oath!

HARVEY blows his whistle again, and gestures for the duelists to approach. OLIVIA and CRAIS walk towards center stage, saluting with their trout.

Trout Duel 1

OLIVIA:
Iíll be your foil, Captain Crais; in mine ignorance
Your skill shall, like a star in the darkest night,
Stick fiery off indeed.

CRAIS:
You mock me, sir.

OLIVIA:
No, by this fish!

CRAIS:
Thou, the victor of five hundred combats.

OLIVIA:
Nay, mílord ... I have but seen Star Wars five hundreds times! And may the Force be with me now!

Trout Fight 1

HARVEY blows his whistle, and the two begin to duel with the trout. A very silly duel, possible to silly music. RYGEL, BRACA, and HARVEY do a lot of wincing and gesturing as they follow the action.

HARVEY:
A hit, a very palpable hit!

OLIVIA tags CRAISís sword (trout) arm. He takes the sword in his other, and puts the tagged arm behind his back.

Trout Duel 3

CRAIS:
A touch, I do confess it.

OLIVIA tags the other arm. CRAIS drops his trout, and puts both arms behind him. He starts trying to ram his head into her.

CRAIS:
ĎTis a flesh wound!

OLIVIA slaps CRAIS in the leg.. He begins to hop on the other leg.

CRAIS:
Iíve had worse! Have at thee, coward!

OLIVIA:
Do you yield, sir?

CRAIS:
Thou art chicken! Brawka Brawka Brawka...

BRACA:
Leaveth me out of this!

CRAIS:
CHICKEN!

OLIVIA sighs and slaps CRAIS on his remaining leg. He drops to the stage.

OLIVIA:
Good day, sir.

OLIVIA turns and exits stage left. CRAIS whines.

CRAIS:
Help ...

RYGEL and BRACA roll Crais right off the front of the stage (unto a bed of trout!). BRACA drops the script upon Craisí head, then dusts hands as they exit. HARVEY remains as we bridge into ...

SCENE FOUR

Enter CHIANA stage right. She is on her way to stage left, only stopping to be friendly. (Not like that! Not with Scorp. Ever. :?P)

CHIANA:
How now, Harvey?

HARVEY:
Sweet lady, ho ho!

CHIANA:
Thou callíst me a ho?!?!

HARVEY: (distracted by his stockings, tugging on them)
This does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering, but what of that? If it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: ďPlease one, and please all.Ē

CHIANA:
Why, how dost thou, man! What is the matter with thee?

HARVEY:
Ever black in my mind, but now yellow in my legs.

CHIANA: (Very reluctantly checking his forehead for fever)
Heat delirium, it must be...wilt thou go to bed, Harvey?

HARVEY:
To bed? Aye, sweetheart, and Iíll come to thee.

CHIANA:
Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness? Go, frell thee!

HARVEY:
Some are born great, some achieve greatness...and some have greatness THRUST upon them!

Harvey the Romantic

HARVEY finishes this with a very rude, very suggestive bit of pelvic thrusting. CHIANA immediately kicks him between the legs. (Faked, please!) HARVEY collapses groaning to the stage. CHIANA lets out a rousing YI YI YI YI YIIIIII!, picks up the nearest trout, and promptly beats him into a puddle. Finally she throws the trout aside, shakes herself together, and stalks off stage left.

CHIANA:
Hmmph. Well ... THAT was very midsummer madness ...

HARVEY drags self offstage on his elbows.

Harvey Crawls

 

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