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The Real Fishmongers' Wives of Old York
by W. M. Shakespeare
King: Yes?
Burgher: My Lord?
King: What meanst thou "Have it your way at?"
Burgher: Nothing, Majesty. I spake one word too many.
(Enter Richie, III)
Richie, III: Your Grace, you're back. The royal flag shall be run up.
(holding his nose) Eegads!
Before you breach the palace wall to sup,
Methinks you and your men should get cleaned up.
.
King: We haven't eaten for 3 days, Rich 3
Except for hummus on the sea
Never again shall I falafel eat
The heathen diet has not sufficient meat!
Or not enough for proper Christian feet!
I'm now so faint I'd trade my crown for a horse stew!
Richie, III: A horse? A horse? Your kingdom for a horse!?
MacDonald: But if one adds some blandishments...
Burgher: Or better still, some condiments, it's not so bad.
MacDonald: Horse is but a meal of super size
King: Come gentlemen: Eyes on the prize.
Find our French cook! See what he fries!
Burgher: What fries the Frenchman by the bye?
I say again, what doth the Frenchy fry?
MacDonald: Speaking of fries, but no, let's say no more.
King: We take our leave now. Richie, hold the door.
Exeunt.
--------------
MacDonald: Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow!
King: That's Tuesday by my reckoning!
Burgher: Well, order something else -- you are the king!
(Enter Richie, III, John of Wayne, the Duke, Ore, Regan, Yenta, and Chaim Yonkel followed by servers carrying heaping plates of food)
MacDonald: Look, sire! Dinner's here anon.
King: If music be the food of love play on!
Welcome, gentle guests, let's eat.
(They eat)
Ore: Here at White Castle, sup we all
Reagan: And yet, the portion's rather small.
Ore: It is White Castle, I recall.
King: Ore and Reagan, all well spoken.
Dine well, my guests, and now all feel
Beside your plate, for each a token --
A replica: the royal seal.
MacDonald: O wond'rous King!
O Happy Meal!
Yenta: O, thank you, Sire, for these confections
And for the toy for my collection.
The Duke: Sire, I fear I do not understand
Yenta: If you're all slain why do you all speak yet?
Chaim Yonkel: Huius, huius, huius!
Yenta: Yo ho! Latino! What man are you?
Head Serf: Then gather up the food left here.
(The Banquet Hall, White Castle. Yonkel has just finished lunch with his father's ghost, who skipped on the check, because he was unhappy with the service).
Chaim Yonkel: Between Act II and this Act III
There's been a bit of history.
The King's restored to his past glory.
The serf has fled, another story.
His treason was the final straw.
In fact, he took them all, I saw,
And also, extra napkins, too.
Some have no scruples, what to do?
White Castle still stands for a cause
With drink aplenty, but no straws.
Still standing as the star of fables,
Where guests are thank'd to clean the tables.
And at the end of the disorder,
I saw my father's ghost off at the border.
He seem'd grim, they'd mix'd his order --
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.
He had cleary asked for black magpie.
I told him, father, do not rage
Against folk who for min'mum wage
Strive mightily for daily bread.
Quoth he: "Why should I care? I'm dead."
"Do not dispute a spirit's brays.
"It's hard to get good help these days!"
(Enter Ore)
Ore: Was that your father's ghost I saw?
Riding off to untamed lands
With a cup of hot meade in his hand?
Yonkel: Indeed, good Ore, that ghost's a sap
"The meade is hot!" to him I cry'd.
"You cannot both drink meade and ride!"
Of course, he pour'd it on his lap!
Ore: If only he had known the meade was hot!
If only he'd been warned a lot!
If but the warning was not hid,
Or perhaps printed on the lid.
Yonkel: Not to be rude, Ore; Don't think ill of me;
I've got to finish this solioquy.
Ore: Then I take my leave at once.
Adieu, adieu. Parting is such sweet sorrow.
(Exit).
Yonkel: And so our play is neatly done.
Each had a meal, each had some fun.
If we shadows made you woozy,
That's your bad luck, I say, so sue me.
(Exit)
John of Wayne: I am slain!
by W. M. Shakespeare
Act I
Scene 1
(Dusk, York [the old one] -- Outside White Castle. Enter Burgher, King, and MacDonald ragged, starved, and just returning from a Crusade in which they gave a few Semites what for. There is a scream from offstage. Apprentice Wench tosses a lit lantern from a 2nd-story window, crashing it into several pieces.)
King: But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
Is it a beast? Or my nogoodnick son?
Refudiate, my pale one, your sloth
While I'm off smiting heathen, thou sleepest late!
You won't amount to much at this cursed rate!
MacDonald: T'was not your son, my Lord, but some apprentice wench.
Who let the lantern slip from her small hands unclenched.
King: Ye gods! I need a break! I'm so ferklempt.
MacDonald: You deserve a break today, my Liege!
King: Spoken like the gentle giant, that thou art, Big Mac.
MacDonald: Yea, verily.
King While fighting for our faith in far-off lands
How often did we dine atop our steeds?
But now Aliyah! Today I am a man.
I need not eat food o'rspread with sand
Tonight it's beef and bread with sesame seeds!
Burgher: Have it your way at!
King: Burgher?
Burgher: King?
King: But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
Is it a beast? Or my nogoodnick son?
Refudiate, my pale one, your sloth
While I'm off smiting heathen, thou sleepest late!
You won't amount to much at this cursed rate!
MacDonald: T'was not your son, my Lord, but some apprentice wench.
Who let the lantern slip from her small hands unclenched.
King: Ye gods! I need a break! I'm so ferklempt.
MacDonald: You deserve a break today, my Liege!
King: Spoken like the gentle giant, that thou art, Big Mac.
MacDonald: Yea, verily.
King While fighting for our faith in far-off lands
How often did we dine atop our steeds?
But now Aliyah! Today I am a man.
I need not eat food o'rspread with sand
Tonight it's beef and bread with sesame seeds!
Burgher: Have it your way at!
King: Burgher?
Burgher: King?
King: Yes?
Burgher: My Lord?
King: What meanst thou "Have it your way at?"
Burgher: Nothing, Majesty. I spake one word too many.
(Enter Richie, III)
Richie, III: Your Grace, you're back. The royal flag shall be run up.
(holding his nose) Eegads!
Before you breach the palace wall to sup,
Methinks you and your men should get cleaned up.
.
King: We haven't eaten for 3 days, Rich 3
Except for hummus on the sea
Never again shall I falafel eat
The heathen diet has not sufficient meat!
Or not enough for proper Christian feet!
I'm now so faint I'd trade my crown for a horse stew!
Richie, III: A horse? A horse? Your kingdom for a horse!?
MacDonald: But if one adds some blandishments...
Burgher: Or better still, some condiments, it's not so bad.
MacDonald: Horse is but a meal of super size
King: Come gentlemen: Eyes on the prize.
Find our French cook! See what he fries!
Burgher: What fries the Frenchman by the bye?
I say again, what doth the Frenchy fry?
MacDonald: Speaking of fries, but no, let's say no more.
King: We take our leave now. Richie, hold the door.
Exeunt.
--------------
Act I
Scene 2
(Banquet Hall at White Castle. Burgher, King, and MacDonald wait as Apprentice Wench serenades with lute and song).
King: Old, MacDonald when will our food arrive?
King: Old, MacDonald when will our food arrive?
MacDonald: Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow!
King: That's Tuesday by my reckoning!
Burgher: Well, order something else -- you are the king!
(Enter Richie, III, John of Wayne, the Duke, Ore, Regan, Yenta, and Chaim Yonkel followed by servers carrying heaping plates of food)
MacDonald: Look, sire! Dinner's here anon.
King: If music be the food of love play on!
Welcome, gentle guests, let's eat.
(They eat)
Ore: Here at White Castle, sup we all
Reagan: And yet, the portion's rather small.
Ore: It is White Castle, I recall.
King: Ore and Reagan, all well spoken.
Dine well, my guests, and now all feel
Beside your plate, for each a token --
A replica: the royal seal.
MacDonald: O wond'rous King!
O Happy Meal!
Yenta: O, thank you, Sire, for these confections
And for the toy for my collection.
The Duke: Sire, I fear I do not understand
I'm at a loss.
John of Wayne: Why is it that you feel so, boss?
The Duke: While some meat here is unadorned,
Some of the guests have special sauce.
Chaim Yonkel: What is it you insinuate?
To each the same food to a plate --
To each two portions of all beef --
Special sauce, pickles, lettuce leaf.
It's everything a man could need.
King: And also buns with sesame seeds!
The Duke (to Yonkel): Do not these charges gently toss.
You over-spooned the special sauce!
Yonkel: I never did, I swear upon your life!
The Duke: The Yonkel protests too much methinks.
King: We'll take a vote and settle things.
If Yonkel's guilty then vote "Nay."
But vote thou "Aye" if he should stay.
Yonkel: Hath not a Jew "ayes?"
John of Wayne: Aye!
Ore: Aye
Regan: Aye
Richie, III: Present.
Yenta: Nay! Nay! Nay!
The Duke: A Thousand times, nay!
King: The "Ayes" have it! You have but one vote, Duke.
The Duke: He is fishy, King, anon..
Chaim Yonkel: I tell you, King that he's the fishy one.
King: Enough! I'm through with fish, you two!
A lox on both your houses!
The Duke: But, Majesty!
King: Shusssssssh. I want to hear her sing!
What is thy name, child?
Apprentice Wench: Wendy, my Lord
King: Sing, then Wendy, Wendy, sing
For MacDonald, Burgher, King!
Apprentice Wench (sings):
Shall I compare thee to a third-rate play?
Shall I compare thee to a third-rate play?
Thou art more deadly and distemperate.
Ruffians do shake the milk all day,
And some cursed meade has no sell-by date.
The Duke: What is the meaning of this strange song?
MacDonald: She is a spy, my Lord!
I see it all so clearly now, of course.
She seeks the secret of the sauce!
Her people have waged war upon the King!
How now avenge such treason'ous thing?
King: The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.
Beyond that, I confess, I have no plan.
The Duke: T'was this conspiracy of two?
Yonkel, did she get help from you?
Chaim Yonkel: Oh sure! When things go wrong, just blame the Jew.
The Duke: The wench, King, what shall be her station?
King: My chamber for interrogation.
Burgher: Shall we follow you, your Highness?
King: No, you must stay and clear this mess.
You and MacDonald both shall stay,
And load thy plates upon these trays,
And with this cloth shall do your best,
To clean all for our breakfast guests.
Come, thou, Wendy, let's retire.
You'll sing me lies upon thy lyre.
Apprentice Wench: To the high chamber by the spire?
King: Girl! We couldn't get much higher!
Apprentice Wench: It's cold and dark there, my good, sire.
King: Fie! To the fireplace retire.
Come now, Wendy, light my fire!
(Exeunt all but MacDonald and Burgher).
Burgher: Look there! Some clumsy oaf, some foolish preen
Hath cut his thumb upon this table's sheen.
A stain so deep this cloth has never seen.
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean?
We, two, fine burghers of the town
Now forced to wipe this table down.
We, two, fine burghers of the town
Now forced to wipe this table down.
MacDonald: Hark! the royal dog, Spot, draws near.
He wants these morsels scattered here.
Burgher: Methinks that he will interfere!
MacDonald: Out! Out! Damn Spot!
INTERMISSION
(Light refreshments available outside and also inside. Since there is no roof in the theatre, what's the diff? Please have correct change.)
Act II
(Ensemble. The serfs, led by the Head Serf, have entered White Castle brandishing expired coupons. A food fight ensues).
The Duke: I am slain!
John of Wayne: I am slain!
Ore: I am slain!
Regan: I am slain!
MacDonald: I am slain!
Burgher: I am slain!
King: I am slain!
Richie, III: Is this a dream? I'll pinch my vein
No! Not a dream! I, too, am slain!
Yenta: If you're all slain why do you all speak yet?
Chaim Yonkel: The King is dead!
Yenta: And what's more, Yonkel, look at all these stains!
Head Serf: Sic Semper Tyranis!
Chaim Yonkel: Hic, Haec, Hoc!
Head Serf: Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres!
Head Serf: Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres!
Chaim Yonkel: Huius, huius, huius!
Yenta: Yo ho! Latino! What man are you?
Head Serf: Having freed you all from slavery,
The people with their bravery
Have chosen for them a new king; it is I.
The old king was himself a spy.
And cur, to boot, with the morals of a fly.
King: Hello? My people, I'm still in the room.
Head Serf: He speaks an infinite deal of nothing.
Chaim Yonkel: Still not too bad for a dead king.
King: (whispering) We're not dead, you fool, you fiend!
We're playing at it in this scene.
When the Serf is all alone,
We pounce and then regain the throne.
Chaim Yonkel: I thought you looked a little green
For royal dead people, I mean.
MacDonald: (whispering) Distract the Serf and gain his trust.
Yenta: Look! The royal hounds approach!
Head Serf: Then gather up the food left here.
Divide it in those satchels there.
Some meals stay here, some we take out.
They travel well, I have no doubt.
They travel well, I have no doubt.
Yenta: How do you call yourself, serf guy?
Head Serf: My name is Brutus, by the bye.
I charge thee, me do not defy.
I charge thee, me do not defy.
I shall arrest you, otherwise.
Chaim Yonkel: Deja vu, alack alay.
Je vous dis: "Et tu, Brutai?"
John of Wayne: I am slain!
Yenta: Oh, please, Sir John! Not that refrain!
(Exeunt omnes except for the slain people).
Act III
(The Banquet Hall, White Castle. Yonkel has just finished lunch with his father's ghost, who skipped on the check, because he was unhappy with the service).
Chaim Yonkel: Between Act II and this Act III
There's been a bit of history.
The King's restored to his past glory.
The serf has fled, another story.
His treason was the final straw.
In fact, he took them all, I saw,
And also, extra napkins, too.
Some have no scruples, what to do?
White Castle still stands for a cause
With drink aplenty, but no straws.
Still standing as the star of fables,
Where guests are thank'd to clean the tables.
And at the end of the disorder,
I saw my father's ghost off at the border.
He seem'd grim, they'd mix'd his order --
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.
He had cleary asked for black magpie.
I told him, father, do not rage
Against folk who for min'mum wage
Strive mightily for daily bread.
Quoth he: "Why should I care? I'm dead."
"Do not dispute a spirit's brays.
"It's hard to get good help these days!"
(Enter Ore)
Ore: Was that your father's ghost I saw?
Riding off to untamed lands
With a cup of hot meade in his hand?
Yonkel: Indeed, good Ore, that ghost's a sap
"The meade is hot!" to him I cry'd.
"You cannot both drink meade and ride!"
Of course, he pour'd it on his lap!
Ore: If only he had known the meade was hot!
If only he'd been warned a lot!
If but the warning was not hid,
Or perhaps printed on the lid.
Yonkel: Not to be rude, Ore; Don't think ill of me;
I've got to finish this solioquy.
Ore: Then I take my leave at once.
Adieu, adieu. Parting is such sweet sorrow.
(Exit).
Yonkel: And so our play is neatly done.
Each had a meal, each had some fun.
If we shadows made you woozy,
That's your bad luck, I say, so sue me.
(Exit)
The End
Epilogue
John of Wayne: I am slain!
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