Rain.
She moves slowly through it.
She enters her house.
She stares at her room.
ANNE: I long for the sea….
Her white toothed smile.
Her roaring laugh.
Her salt spray on my lips….
(wry) The sea was a far better lover than you, Bill.
When it had me
I was wet and warm.
But you:
you
were a rough rocky shore
your head worn by tide
your beard straggly as seaweed
your eyes…
A distant bell. She listens.
She puts down the will.
She lights a lamp.
She removes her mourning attire.
She stares out the window.
I buried you in the church
only this morning.
Fifty-two of the town’s poorest
one for every year of your life
lead the way
hired to mourn your passing.
Then
two score men
riding the finest geldings
sinking in the soft mud.
Then
a dozen more
walking
the banner of arms
hanging heavy in their wet hands.
Then you
in a wagon covered with black velvet.
And then
I
and your friends from the city
and your family
trailing behind
grief
and the rain
weighing us down
soaked through we are
soggy as the sea.
Pause.
After
as the men go to eat
and talk
and drink down your memory,
your sister Joan
hands me your will:
She looks at the will.
Come Anne, says Joan
You must go home straightaway
Oh? I say
I’ll be by tonight, she says.
Why, I say?
And she smiles
smiles
like….
A distant bell. She listens.
And now. An hour left
till Joan comes
only an hour
and I haven’t even…
She regards the will.
* * * *
* Movement/Music Sequence:
Perhaps a lively, traditional song. Perhaps “The Fair.”
(sings) “The boys, the boys, the boys of the t...
