Eaglethorpe Buxton and the Sorceress by Wesley Allison

vender there are four hungry brats with no silver
or gold, or no brass penny neither. There are those of us who beg
in the streets and there are those of us who skim the sewers. Then
there are those of us who take what we can…. (picks pocket) Pardon
me. I am off to reap what the merchants have sown. (Exit)

    Krabbi:
    Apples for Sale! Nice Apples! Not a worm in
sight!

    Mack:
    I could use some worms. Fish are gettin’ so
they don’t bite on corncobs no more.

    Krabbi:
    Here, help yourself. I’ve worms a plenty.
The whole crop this year is wormy.

    Mack.
    That’s a good lad. Are you ready to sup,
Krabbi. They’ve a mutton stew at the Angry Rooster for three
pence.

    Krabbi:
    I’m for it, Mack. (Exit Krabbi and Mack.
Enter Myolaena.)

    Enter Myolaena.

    Myolaena:
    (Aside) It’s a lovely day in Illustria, the
jewel of Aerithtraine, nay the very jewel of all Celestria. The
people are happy. The kingdom is prosperous. The king sits well
upon his throne…

    Luna:
    I’m just a serving wench out for some fresh
air,
    I’ve spent all the night in the tavern down
yon’,
    It’s such a delight to sit here in the fresh
air,
    No fighting with pipe fumes from dusk until
dawn,

    I’m just a serving wench out in the morning
air,
    My world is the tavern, the rogues, and the
ale,
    I somehow can’t see why the world is so
bright,
    It makes my life seem somehow oh so
pale,

    I’m just a serving wench, but I am so much
more,
    I sing and I dance and I play a mean
lyre,
    If a kind man could find my heart’s
door,
    I would gather his hearthstones and light
his fire.

    Myolaena:
    (Aside) They young maid is lonely. She needs
someone. (Wiggles her finger at Bud).

    Bud:
    (To Luna) A flour for you, Luna. No
charge.

    Luna:
    Thank you. It is a pretty thing, isn’t
it?

    Myolaena:
    Ah,yes. Love is the ideal magic. But the
lass isn’t saying what she truly feels. (Wiggles her finger at
Luna)

    Luna:
    Oh you sweet thing! (Jumps on Bud and kisses
him) I love you Bud! Take me away and let’s be wed.

    Myolaena:
    There you see magic. But it is a small thing
for me. I am Myolaena Maetar, the court magician-- sorceress
thaumatageur, prestidigitator, diviner, seer, mystic-- I am
spellcaster, mage, conjurer, and necromancer. I am all that.

    I am she who keeps the kingdom running well.
I am she who keeps King Justin on his throne. I bring prosperity
and fair weather. I am all that.

    I can read minds! I can shape creations of
matter and energy. I can brew potions of love or hate or death. I
can let you fly through the air, or stew in your own juices. I can
summon up the wise men of all the ages, or the most horrifying
monsters. I am all that… and a bag of chips.

    I should be openly acknowledged as the
mighty ruler I am. I should be Queen. But though I am not, I have
cast my spells and laid my plots. I am like the spider in the
center of a vast web. And I will devour my prey, after my own
fashion.

    (Exit Luna and Bud. Enter the Waiting Women.
They step forward to deliver their lines as a chorus)

    Wait’ Women:
    We are three maids who wait on the
Queen,
    She’s the sweetest sovereign the world has
yet seen,
    Though she has one pain that many speak
of,
    The King and the Queen have never known
love.

    We wait and we pray for we know our
duty,
    We must take care of our majestic
beauty,
    This duty is clear and our faith is too
true,
    But until true love comes there is nothing
to do.

    The Queen hails from Goth, a land far
away,
    But we lover her so, and wish her to
stay,
    The people adore her, as do her sons,
    Of riches and wealth, you know she has
tons,

    If only the king would wake up and take
notice,
    He’d see that beside him sits a true
Venus,
    Though none can say where angels have
been,
    Angels are nothing when they’re next to our
Queen.

    (Exit Waiting Women. Enter Phoebe)

    Phoebe:
    Queen Beatrix calls for you, Sorceress.

    Myolaena:
    Am I the Queen’s serving woman, that she
calls for me thus? Am I the Queen’s lacky?

    Phoebe:
    You