There's a bit of Shakespeare in all of us.

Farce in three acts

M a n ( ? ) T h r o u g h T h e A g e s

CAST

The Graces [children] * Adam and Eve * Ape * Serpent * Narrator * Girl Tree * Boar * Boy Plant * Girl 2 * Judy * Kong * Son of Kong * Faye * Clytaemnestra * Electra * Savages * Orestes [earlier Ira] * Theseus * Helen * Dedalus * Penelope * Tax Collector * Old Hag [old Helen] * Penelope's Children [two boys] * Robbie * Olivia Neutron * Aphrodite * Merchant [Kong] * High Priest * Mob * Ira [sentry] * Peace [old Clytaemnestra] * Naomi * War * Scores of Flower Children * Flower Children One and Two * Soldiers * Principal [Dedalus modernized] * ass't Principal [Kong modernized] * Wendy * Ivan's Woman [Helen restored] * Ivan [as a child] * Ivan [as a teenager] * Gloria [as a child] * Gloria [as a teenager] * Contented Coffee Drinkers * Naomi's Children * Erinyes [teenagers]

Prologue

NARRATOR: [Spiffy onto proscenium] The cast of struggling novitiates in the theater arts, cautiously presents this ordinary farce with the hope that you, the courageous audience, will endure the execution—please, by all means, excuse the crude pun—of this foolhardy attempt, with total disregard for accurate time frames, to misinterpret man throughout our ridiculous history and legends. As you can see from the television cameras stationed about you, the world awaits our venture to assess man's development so they can at last arrive at nervous self-identity. Since we are being televised, naturally the performance will be rudely interrupted by uplifting commercials in which we all curiously, inadvertently and devoutly believe. Furthermore--this is mainly for the critic, since the audience has learned to adjust to life's impure bombardments—these mercantile respites relieve us from the heavy undertones of unaccustomed truth. [A stage hand runs out with a long print-out and hands it to her; she sits down on a chair, crosses her legs and proceeds to read the long paper, quickly running it through her hands from beginning to end. She rises trailing the paper along the floor and returns proscenium center.] Apparently, the world is indeed watching: our switch-boards backstage are jammed already by the women's movement —it appears that the title of our play has been changed to "Person's Through The Ages". [She rolls up the paper and prepares to leave.] Have no fear, however, that this will change the theme, merely its sex. Sit back, try to relax and may you have edifying catnaps when the author gets intolerably heavy-handed. [Black director in striped tank shirt meets her halfway and hands her a bongo drum on which a message is clearly written; she holds it up to the audience] Can all of you read this? Well, it appears that the director—the gentleman who just put in a rare appearance—informs me that the play is to now be titled simply "Soul"—or lack of it? [She exits, pounding drum, which is then overlaid with louder drums back stage.] young lady dressed in a pinstripe suit walks

[Traveler opens; b.s. light on picture of earth from space; dark stage, on center, blue spotlight up gradually on three very little girls, The Graces—no older than six—sitting back to back, knees up, arms on

back of thighs, foreheads on knees, arms slowly extend upward, heads are raised while chanting]

The Graces: This lonely ball propelled, rebounded and spun crazily on the billiard table of space from one cued explosion to the next until the cue-player mercifully did pause to drink, spilling cool water on the overheated ball, whence little more than chance embodied us [they gracefully point to themselves] to play out its endless game. [they rise, remaining back to back, whirling toward exit, eurhythmically chanting]

Game perhaps is not the name for life with serious strife though mercifully with jest 'tis blest. [exit]

GREEN LIGHTS UP; RED LIGHT ON APPLE TREE IN BLOSSOM, STAGE CENTER; ANOTHER TREE UPSTAGE WITH A BANANA HANGING FROM IT; DRUMS INCREASE; JUNGLE SOUND EFFECTS INTERMIX

[Ape, of course, bowlegged, back bent, arms dragging, looking askance at audience then raises head as though viewing the stars; he looks over at tree center and scratches head; then he eyes banana upstage, jumps excitedly, bounces over to it and plucks it. He stares at it curiously as he drags himself downstage next to apple tree. He is about to swallow it whole, when a lovely hand reaches out from the apple tree beside him, taking the banana and then a second hand is extended and the banana is gracefully peeled. The ape in the meantime is distraught, jumping about like a spoiled brat, beating his breast, rubbing his head. An arm is extended, with pinky out the hand presents the peeled down banana to him. The ape takes it, examining its inner fruit, dumbfounded. He takes a bite and is ecstatic, jumping to stage left. Spotlight comes up on hands that are doing some kind of exotic, interpretive, rhythmic gestures to the drums. The narrator comes out with a plastic bottle of sorts and majestically draws the audience attention to the graceful, slender hands]

NARRATOR: Now, pray, who wouldn't want lovely hands like that? Of course, you men would look ridiculous, but you would certainly want hands like that caressing you! Thus, I solicit the ladies in the audience. [Holds up bottle as hands continue "dancing".]This extraordinary, new, new, new product of the Jerkins Lotion Family of Smooth Hands Care, appeals to your conscience that it is your moral obligation to run out at intermission and purchase —stands are located in the lobby for your convenience—this new, new, new version, their most recent of perennially recent formulae for smooth hand health insurance. The Jerkins coupon you received with your admissions ticket, will, of course, not be honored at the lobby stands, unless you remain after midnight; for you'll note this more than generous discount does not take effect till tomorrow. Do not dishearten, however, for the dear persons at our counters are instructed to give you a free bottle—yes, you heard right—for every twelve that you purchase tonight. This would guarantee you a full year of the very best—my heavens, the only hand health insurance available—for the entire year. Can you imagine having smooth, delicate, beautiful hands like that [points to dancing hands] thanks to the superlative research and development of the Jerkins Family. I must ask you—and I know how difficult a request this—please out of integrity for the arts that you remain in your seats until intermission. I assure you there is an ample supply of this most, most recent of recent formulae so that you may tonight indeed—and this is for you, gentlemen, as well—be caressive as you have never been before. [She opens bottle, smears some of the contents in back of her hand, slips bottle into pocket and with the other gently, suggestively rubs in formula. Then smells her hand.] "Ah, such fragrance, such health!" [She exits.]

[Serpent enters opposite side of proscenium and holds up a slimy claw]

SERP: I too have an oily hand in the making of a world that slips from its original, naive design to the inevitable of reality of the rankest practicability, wherein life is beset by the busy hand of fate engaged in farcical deceit. [leaves, rubbing claws and laughing villainously. Having finished its banana, the ape holds up the dangling peel, then shoves it in his mouth and goes back upstage and searches tree for more. Disappointed he returns to the tree at STAGE CENTER and starts to circle it, scratching his head, dancing clumsily. He pulls a leaf from the tree; chomps on it and finds it delectable. Reaches for another. Tree comes to life in form of lovely girl.]

GIRLTREE: Hey, you big ape, watch the merchandise. [Startled, the ape recoils, facing audience and scratching its pinhead. He returns to tree and yanks her ankle. She reacts by kicking him in the knee. He responds with "Ooh, ooh." She stands erect, feet apart, defiant, hands on trunk hips. Ape starts roaring and beating his breast.] Aw, shut up already!...what are you getting all uptight about? Stop trying the impossible before your time—thinking. Chlorophyll, oxygen, water— that's all—no big deal. A big ape like you needs his protein.

APE: Uh, uh, uh. Ooh, ooh, m, m, m. [Beats breast, pulls her ankle, gets kicked again.]

GT: Now, cut that out. Go find one of those newly appointed kings—I believe their called lions—or a nice juicy hippopotamus to chew on— something with meat—I'm on a diet. Besides you've got to be prepared for your carnivorous destiny. You know, it's pretty ridiculous with all those teeth to be chewing on fruits and leaves when you can be sinking them into something worthwhile —ever hear of McDonald's?...Hm,...I'm getting ahead of myself here. Moreover, you should use those teeth for other finer things like shaping a language- -it's ridiculous the way you slur your grunts. Are you really that stupid, you big ape, that you have no idea—not even a remote instinct as to what's in store for you? Why you're the chosen one is beyond me—I mean is it really necessary to think on your two feet? Shouldn't a spider or an octopus think even better?...if you follow the logic. But when I think of the great laws to be written, the philosophies dissertated, the sciences uncovered, the poetry and music—well, except for one development in music—I find it incomprehensible that the likes of you will have been in your small way responsible. Still, I have to give you credit for standing on your own two feet; but then again the whale had the smarter idea—why bother?—when you can float. I suppose though in the so-called order of things you're ahead of the rest.

APE: Ah, precisely!—that's why I don't bother to waste the language as you seem to be doing because I am ahead of my time. Got a few million years yet, you know.

GT: My, my, you can talk, but you don't—how wonderful. If only you could carry that through till the so-called consummation, maybe we'll evade that nasty business of politics. [Ape yanks another leaf from her.] Now, see here, Ape, you have a responsibility to maintain ecological balance. You can't go around pulling up every root and plant around here. Save that brutality for your descendants. [Wild boar enters snorting and oinking.] Why don't you go catch that obnoxious thing over there and throw it in a fire. It needs to be spitted to get rid of its sweat. That's the forerunner of the high school sweat-hog, you know. If you develop taste for it perhaps you could make it extinct and obviate the nuisance of a later age. Ooh, don't let it come near me! Kill it...the horrible creature.

APE: Aw, hogwash, it's just a harmless little creature...a living thing...I couldn't hurt it.

GT: What do you think you're doing to me? Am I not alive? Don't you think I feel pain when my limbs are picked at,...broken off? Oh, how would a dumb thing like you know....Were you ever trampled by a dinosaur?...well, obviously not—kicked in the head, perhaps. In any event I am not made of plastic, so for my sake go kill it and learn of other menus.

APE: Still,...I don't know... [scratches head] what if it should bite back?

GT: Use cunning...that's what you're destined to learn, anyway. Sneak up on it. Use my ancestor over there. [points to decayed log; looks skyward] May my lord Pan, forgive me. Hit it over the head—it's more humane that way.

APE: What's humane?

GT: [Scratches her tree-top] Well,...it's like apish but with a little science. Now, go over there and take a giant step for mankind... uh, personkind. The sooner you do it the better off I'll be for the next million years or so....Heaven help my descendants, though, when the axe is invented... oh, and that dreadful chain-saw! [Ape takes a step toward the oink] That's it...surely not a giant step, but you're getting there. Now be cunning, remember, ...don't let it get away. APE: [Sneaks up on the oink, but touches him with his hand instead of whacking him with the log. Oink recoils and squeals. Ape taken aback turns to plant.] Ugly, isn't it? Sweaty, too, just like you said. Yich, it smells.

GT: Why didn't you hit him? Now you got it all excited.

APE: I'm not so sure I have the stomach for this—in more ways than one. [moves back and pulls off another leaf] you're much more to my liking.

GT: Now cut that out! Just get me out of your minuscule mind and do what you have to do.

APE: [Goes up to Oink again; touches it; Oink looks up and squeals] Aw, shucks, it's got sad eyes. And mighty tough skin. Gee, I don't know....I'm not a saber-tooth tiger, you know...doubt my teeth could sink into its hide.

GT: Applesauce!...You'll learn to skin it soon enough. Football's depending on it. Baseball already has priority on horse hides.

APE: After feasting on you, I'm not very hungry. [ape drops log and starts to walk off.]

GT: Now, just hold on, you finely groomed monkey suit,...you can't deny the progression of pre-histrionics. You have an obligation to the audience out there. So, you're not hungry?—my, this will never do— you must prepare for your future selfishness. Grab that vine over there and loop it around its neck and take it home with you— domesticate it. That's a very big step in history.

APE: [Picks up vine; goes toward boar and ties vine around pig's neck.] Holy sow! He's got less neck than I have.

BOAR: Oink! Squeal! Not exactly fond of your goal, monster man. [Ape drags hog off stage, boar squealing] Mind if I punt? Dee-fense! Dee- fense!...

GT: [adjusts herself—a leaf here and there] Whew! defense, indeed! [BOY PLANT [holding tulip, pinky out, wrists hanging loosely, tip-toeing from behind, singing]

BP: Tip-toe through the tulips is the way my life so felicitous flips.

GT: Where were you when I needed you?...you useless twig of blossoms— why, you're setting a bad example for those flower children sprouting into the future. Didn't you even care how that Ape abused me?

BP: Frankly, darling, no. You know how I detest those animated creatures that can't stay put.

GT: As usual I suppose you were safely tucked under the covers of your flower bed, hiding from reality.

BP: But of course, You know how I hate such roguish mobility. And for some reason those detestable animals don't pick the flowers. Gosh, how there always on the go—sniffing here, digging and lifting their leg there, doing their filth everywhere. They simply have no roots.

GT: Well, after all, we do need the fertilizer, however abominable. Ah, for the nitrogen in the air and the cool rains!

BP: Yes, yes, much dignified and befitting our stationary life in lieu of that awful, awful poop.

GT: Truly superior in life—why we're already perfect. No need to further evolution with respect to us. I simply don't understand why we have to suffer all this nonsensical change because animals have learning disabilities.

BP: Why have them at all?...they're such vile, slimy things.

GT: Apparently Pan has assigned them—not them, actually, just one species—a task beyond our scope. It seems this species has promises to keep, while we fortunately vegetate.

BP: Vegetation—a blessed word. What need of promises when here in all our glory we are supreme, perfectly self-sufficient—with the help of a little sun and rain.

GT: Yes, but you're forgetting the dreadful poop...and the equally dreadful fate of imperceptible change. [points with one hand to the other.] See that bud on my linger-tip? [Boy shakes leaves.] Germinating inside is the fate of the world.

BP: Oh, heavens, must we be so melodramatic over an apple that won't bear fruit for a million years! Nothing will change our perfection. [does a little hop and dance] Tip-toe through the tulips. That's how nature nobly equips. So why this awful twisting of the chain? When we so supremely reign! [dances off]

GT: Foolish twig...unaware of toils and spoils of man, who'll stuff our kin in a can. [lights dim]

A c t I : B e g i n n i n g s

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Scene 1

[LIGHTNING CRACKS, THUNDER ROLLS, LIGHTS FLICKER AND FLASH; girl tree reaches back in her foliage as lights slowly rise, and holds in palm a shiny exaggerated apple.]

GT: My, my,...what a million years can do!

ADAM: [Enters attired in extremely skimpy loin cloth, holding his side, apparently in pain, muttering] You'd think He would have used an anesthetic. [Looks up] God! that hurt. [looks under bandage] There

must be another way—woe is me.

EVE: That's wo-man. [as she slinks on in a thin body suit, lending to nudity] You think it was easy for me being snapped out like a wishbone! It was your wish, don't forget...carrying on like some sort of idiot that you were lonely, afraid of the dark, wanting a security blanket—such childish drivel....

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