"The Play's the Thing"
Scene II
[A school playground. Enter left Brock, Misty, Ash, Gary and Oak. Oak
exits right. Professor Ivy enters left and walks across stage.]
Brock: [leering] Behold, a damsel! Hark, O maiden fair,
I follow thee from here to yon I swear! [leaves, following Ivy]
Ash: What strange tongue! Prithee Misty, what say'th he?
Misty: Lo, thou art victim of same malady.
[gasps] I fear this oral woe has stricken me.
Gary: My fellows didst ye not hear that strange sound
Bedazzling us for a but a moment now?
Ash: 'Twas but the chime of our school clock I'm sure.
Misty: The song of that sweet lark above the door.
Gary: Methinks a certain pocket monster green
Is playing sport with us.
Ash: How rude!
Misty: How mean!
Gary: This monster has bewitched the ord'r of time.
Misty: Prithee do tell us more!
Gary: Aye, colleagues mine.
Our tongues have been transferred to a bygone age
Four hundred years hence past.
Ash: Egads!
Misty: Outrage!
[Gary faces the audience.]
Gary: Henceforth this woesome creature I shall seek
And restitution claim or vengeance wreak.
A task, a feat, a quest I undertake
And shall succeed in it for honour's sake.
But if I fail, then to the ground I fall
And follow Styx to Hades' dismall hall.
My solemn vow to this land ne'er retrn,
Unless I win my cause, my quest perform. [leaves]
Ash: Is it a soliloquy I hear?
Misty: 'Twould have been were not we his presence near.
Ash: And now, to arms, a matter now at hand!
Misty: And what may't be? Shall fight we some brigand?
Ash: Nay. I shall make use of my two arms and raise myself to see
through the classroom window and behold the pocket monsters breed.
Misty: Thou mischievous fellow. Remeberest not the instruction of our
master? Pocket monsters have need for privacy.
Ash: If they beholden me not, they shall be none wiser.
[Enter James and Giselle.]
Misty: Here come the upper class.
Ash: How say you so?
Their classroom lies from ours across the yard.
'Tis not above it.
Misty: [aside] Oh, thy brains are lard!
James: My fellows, some strange vocal malady
Has now befallen all here, even me.
Ash: Aye James, our colleague, Gary's on a quest,
To save us and to give our tongues a rest.
Giselle: In all sincerity I wish him fail.
Misty: Why do you wish such harm, O pray do tell?
Giselle: Methinks this new speech trully suit me well.
Ash: My good man, James, a boost thy off'rest me?
Inside the schoolchamber I wish to see.
James: I shall but if thou tellest me the reason.
Misty: Thou know'st 'tis pocket monster breeding season?
He wishes to behold a sight most rare,
An egg produced by mating monster pair.
Giselle: Oh my poor fellow! Is it not well-known
That pocket monsters only breed alone?
Surely thou knowest that! Oh, thou dost not?
Ash: That wench makes sport of ridiculing me.
Giselle: Hark! Call me not a wench for plainly see
I have the education of Athene,
No less the beauty of Aphrodite.
James: Thou construe thyself a godess from above,
Yet nothing can compare with me true love.
Her countenance most fair, sweet as a dove.
Whene'er I see her, when she cometh nigh,
My heartbeat stops, my lungs exhale a sigh.
But woe, alas, I'm not at liberty
To speak of this affection, pity me.
Misty: But why so? Doth she not your love return,
The flame of your affection coldly burn?
James: My beloved and I are as near to each other's heart as if we
dwelt in each other's bosom.
Ash: Then tell us now what ails thee my good man!
James: A tale of sorrow, love that cannot be.
She is not worthy of my family.
To someone else I have been betrothèd.
Someone I cannot stand and loathe to wed.
Giselle: Colleagues, take note that recess is near past.
We must make ready for our coming class.
Ash: Egads! The breeding turtles! James I plea
And beseech thee to boost me up to see.
[James helps Ash see through the window.]
Ash: Alas, my curiosity shall be
Unsated for already do I see
An egg, and I have not discovered yet
The mode of its creation. What regret!
[James lets Ash down.]
James: I fear the fault is mine for troubling thee
With mine own sorrows.
Misty: Forbid it!
Ash: Indeed!
For my mere woe, unto thy troubled soul
Compares near not. I pray thee well, my friend.
[James and Giselle leave. Brock returns.]
Brock: Woe unto me, woe unto me I fear.
Misty: And what new tale of sorrow have we here?
Brock: Leave me alone, I am a sorry wretch!
I shall not speak a word of that foul wench.
Ash: The recess ends--return to our schoolbench!
[All exit.]
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