Anonymous Blonde

The Anonymous Blonde's Parlor Games for the Next Millenium

Play # 2, Actor A

Ah, my beloved. Wherefore dost thou look so sad? Thine eyes are as lodestars, and thy bosom is like a pair of gazelles curled in repose after a night of amorous play, and yet thy roseate lips are as a pair of weary travelers who have no will to look into the smiling visage of the sun, but must cast their weary eyes upon the dusty road, and will go no further. From whence comes this misery to one so young? Is it because your lips have eyes? Or is it because you have not yet yielded the untilled soils of your virgin body to my joy-giving loins?

What is all this vain caterwauling? Begone, wench. I have not the ears for you this eve.

I know not this brother of which you speak.

Thou shalt die upon the point of my sword for thy temerity, wench! Never have I shared a woman's teat with any man! A woman who gives herself to me does so with all four chambers of her furiously beating heart, and between the blood that pumps so recklessly between those chambers, and the passion that consumes the tissues therein, there is not room for another man to reign or suckle.

Thou meant none, and yet thou hast wrought it in my brain as if thou wert a goldsmith who hath twisted between his hands some pretty piece of wire and made a bauble for a bawd with it. Wast thou never taught to make thy tongue as silver when thou speakest to thy betters?

Ha! I fear it not, the icy grip of death.

Mortals, perchance, but love has swept away my mortal fear, replacing it with immortal love, and worship of a single and immortal foot, of a whiteness beyond even the whiteness of dead flesh.

Zounds! Dares my brother lay his mouth upon the foot of my lady?

And yet the toe of my lady bareth no callouses.

Indeed. Wench, thou speakst now with the tongue of a poet.

Dost thou?

Ah! 'tis true; it possesseth the vigor of a thousand minnows. I shall dally with thee, wench, and then posthaste I shall dispatch my brother to Hades.

Methinks I have already chosen it, wench.

Methinks that is exactly what I am doing, wench.

A duel of earthly passions, thou meanest.

Whence comes this treachery?

I am amazed. Thou hast no cause to think it black!

How can that be? Scarcely a moment has passed since you raised your voice against him with great heat. I know the heart of woman is as changeable as the moon, and yet -- thou confoundest all reason!

Thou lovest me?

But thou hast rubbed up against me like a little kitten! And thou hast said of him --

Yes. Was that a lie?

And yet thy passion for him drove thou to bring him what he most desired.

And thou shalt gain it by --

I lay my breast bare to your rapier.

I do.

I can think of no more honorable death, than to die at the hand of a virtuous maid.

Thou art, for thou hast bartered thy body only in the name of true virtue. I ask for nothing but to be the instrument of your great work.

What would you, lady?


Lady, thou . . .


I cannot strike a woman.

Milady, no! Let me strike that blow to myself.

Thou hast pierced thine own breast!

Ah, ah -- how blessed were those moments of our love!

Wait thou a moment -- If I love thee --

Why has it come to pass that thou hast taken thine own life --

Oh well.