The Doors

I still need to write Scene 3. Sigh.

ACT 1, SCENE 1
The King's Antechambers.

The KING sits on his throne. Enter THE PRINCESS distraught.

King. Daughter. Truly, I would give ten years of life to see you happy for one. Tell, is it the boy? The rapscallion who stole thy heart?

Princess. It is not the rapscallion who stole my heart that troubles it, for, as thou hast said, it has already been stolen -- I've no heart left to be troubled.

King. Say not such bitter things! Today, justice hath been served -- that fortuitous creature called fate, in corroboration with chance, hath shown me the villainy of that man; but we are avoiding the question. Why must my daughter fall prey to sadness at a time like this; nay, at any time?

Princess. It is not for me to say, father, nor is it for you to listen. I shall keep my burdens close to my breast, so that it may not worry you. Have you not a kingdom to run? Worry not the needs of one woman, that the needs of scores of noblemen shall be left unmet. In time, my heart will return to me. On that day I will inform you, as to day, where I informed you of its departure.

King. I see. Retire, then, to thy chambers, where sleep will rob you of your tears, and in the night I shall see to it that thine heart alights upon your desk, so that when you awake you shall find it willing to continue. There is much work to be done, though, dear daughter, and to that end I am afraid I must see thee off.

The king stands up.

King. Come, now, tarry not lest we be plagued by beseeching commoners.

Princess. Yes, father.

Exeunt.

Enter The LADY, EULEN, and COMMONER.

Lady. What noisome beast! What foul-bred, ill-mannered, tempestuous succubus would do such a thing? Were my status higher, I would call for her hanging!

Eulen. What sayeth thou? Who deserves to have such names hurled at them, and for what reason?

Lady. I dare not say, and yet -- oh, my blood, it boils! To know that she had led him to his demise...

Eulen. Surely you could not mean this morning's arena event! The man was guilty, my lady. Even thou knewest it.

Lady. And it was that guilt that led him to the wrong door! Hear me, Eulen, for wrongdoing hath been done, and I shall not rest until her father has her put to a likewise test.

Commoner. Trust in the fairest lady of the city to be the most ebullient.

Eulen. Give the lady her chance to speak, or I shall rip the tongue from your head. If she speaks, it is the truth. All that is left to wonder is whether or not we can do anything about it.

Lady. Whether or not we can, indeed! I shall see to it that she pays, be it by judge or by my own hands.

Commoner 'Zounds! Calm your self, lady, or the earth itself will quake in fear, and we'll all be lost to the pits. The woman you called witch is the princess, correct? Surely, she must have done some wrong. But for all your heart's baying, you were as trapped as the tiger; there is no way to know for certain such events occurred as your mind imagines them. Perhaps a soft down bed shall see your senses restored.

Eulen. He is right. I would not go after a Princess, particularly one as strong-headed as ours, without the time to consider alternatives.

Lady. Perhaps... keep thine ears against the walls this night. I would like to hear what the little birds have to say about our Princess. She must have done some wrong; although he was guilty of being seduced by that demon, he was an innocent at heart, and fate left alone would have shown him the way to my arms. I am certain of it. And when the instrument of the Gods is played with, some one hears it some where.

Eulen. I shall do my best. Be certain of it.

Commoner. For what little worth my word has in this town, I will give you it. Mostly, I am curious as to the veracity of your claims. Perhaps the times are not as boring as they appear!

Lady, angrily. My love was murdered by a monster from the orient, and thou carest only for excitement! Begone from my sight; I'll speak to thee no more.

the Commoner leaves.

Eulen. Was that necessary, my lady?

Lady. Yes.

Eulen. Your bed calls out to thee; why not heed it? My ears will remain open until such a time as the information you seek finds his way in.

Lady. When that time occurs, could thou wakest me?

Eulen. If that is thy wish. My apprentice is fine enough to handle the early business him self, if but for today. And today, it is worth it.

Lady. Thanks to thee.

Exeunt.

ACT 1, SCENE 2
The Princess's bedchambers.

The Princess lays in bed.

Princess. O, dost the wind blow heartily tonight! It beats upon my brow, upon my breast, and even in this room the chill dost cut through the bone. these fineries are no match for the sinister imprecations of that wind. O, ye Gods, cease this infernal wailing!

The MAN enters.

Man. It is not the Gods that are wailing, my love.

Princess. How... what manner of devil are you, that seeks to bewitch me by assuming my lover's form?

Man. It is I that am wailing.

Beat.

Man. I will not question thy intentions. I simply wished to see thee before the Eternal called me back.

Princess. I've found myself trapped in a nightmare, then! For no ghost would deign to visit a foolish woman such as I. O, how I regret that final moment!

Man, moving closer. I know not regret, my love, nor anger at thy betrayal. All I know is longing for the passion that lies hidden within thineself. Has that spark already faded?

Princess. It has. With thy death, all reasoning hath ceased. Perhaps it is my heart that hath ceased, that thou comest upon me now, to carry me into the Heavens. I would like that dearly. Not one day has yet passed, and already I feel the weight of eternity bearing down upon me. I do not know which is the more worrisome; that I killed thee, or that I did not intend to kill thee.

Man, now upon her. Come with me into the cold, my love; I care not for intentions anymore. Thine choice has been made; now come with me!

The Princess screams. Exit Man. Enter Eulen.

Eulen. Princess, what nightmare's got you so bespotted?

Princess. Who are you?

Eulen. A humble blacksmith, my lady, entertaining the desire to explore the palace. I was a friend of... I am sorry. Perhaps now is not the time for such talk. Hark, the wind blows cruelly tonight! The palace walls can barely contain it. Ghosts walk the halls on nights like these, they say.

Princess. Then you saw him? You saw my dear one's spirit as well?

Eulen. I have seen no such thing! It's all children's tales, regardless of how well they frighten. Worry not, my Princess, it was assuredly a nightmare. The dead do not walk any more than the mannequin by the front of my store.

Princess. Were I you, I would be more careful of my tongue; I do not doubt my experience, and you should not doubt me. I do not hold the same disdain for your class as my father does, but that does not mean I suffer fools and disbelievers lightly. I tell you, he came.

Eulen. I am certain that he did. May I ask what he said?

Princess. You may not. Nor may you speak of this to any one; I will not have it known that spirits prowl the palace, particularly this one.

Eulen. Very well. If he was indeed here, then have I not saved your life? For that, I ask one favor.

Princess. You are quite presumptuous, to ask favors of a princess after sneaking into her bedchambers! I could have you put to the arena.

Eulen. Ah, but I am not guilty of anything but chance, and if chance shall lead me here, then it shall follow me into the arms of my lady, the fairest and most beautiful woman in the land. Is that thou, or is that thy lover's concubine, I wonder? Regardless, my favor is this: confess thy sin to thy father, and no one else. If my lady hears of it, she will surely come to murder you. If any in the city hear of it, then she shall hear of it too, for there are many little birds that like to flit about and gossip. To let such a thing pass, though; even one so strong as thou darest not shoulder this burden alone!

Princess. I will see thee hanged for this.

Eulen. Worry not for nightmares, princess. If thou art guilty, they will most certainly come. If thou art innocent, the Heavens will leave thee be.

Exit Eulen.

Princess. That man! He knows; shall I put him to the death as well? Is such a thing wise? I'd rather that no one have to face that tiger again; ever if at all possible! And yet, if word gets out, I'll have nowhere to turn. Think! Ignore this howling wind and think! I cannot simply say nothing; there was menace in his voice, of that there is no doubt. I cannot tell my father, for he shall disown me, or put me to my death. It is not my fault! Gods, I beseech you, understand this: that I had planned for days to give him up to her, that foolish commoner girl! I was going to be the noble my father had raised, but my blood -- curse this barbarian blood of mine, I couldn't see her take him! It was not my intention, but he is dead none the less, and now I am the less for it! This situation is without solution; so thinking, I must cut the tangled mess as best I can and pray. That blacksmith must be put to death. My father must not know, and that man would clearly rattle like a snake as soon as he learned I have no plans to confess. He was wrong; I am strong enough to face these ghosts and nightmares. I dare the devil himself to come and prove me wrong. This I swear: that to night, I shall sleep like a babe, and wake up just as new.