Act One Scene One from THE FOX'S REWARD

The following play is based on an old anonymous French comedy from the middle ages- itself based on folk material- called Pierre Pathelin or The Worthy Master Pierre Pathelin ( La Farce de Maitre Pierre Pathelin). It retains the satire on law of the original but the dialogue has been rewritten and greatly added to in the form of humour and word play characteristic of Elizabethan Comedy (however in normal modern language and diction) and I have tried to weave a sub-theme on the abuses of language into it.

THE FOX'S REWARD


by Mark Scrivener

© Mark Scrivener 2014


inspired by the anonymous. medieval French comedy “Pierre Pathelin”

“…he is the reverse of blind, but his keen eyesight is forced into the
service of evil, and he is mischievous in proportion to his cleverness.”
-SOCRATES, PLATO THE REPUBLIC, BOOK VII
CHARACTERS

Vulpes a shrewd lawyer 40+ (Vool-pahs)Marguerite his wifeJasper a greedy draper William his young shepherdJudge Jeeble white-haired, solemn
The action takes place in the course of a day.
Act One- Morning
Act Two- Midday
Act Three- An hour or two later
Act Four- Late afternoonNB the action could also been seen as two acts (ACT ONE=1-3, ACT TWO= 4)
with interval between.


ACT ONE SCENE ONE

Medieval. Early morning. Vulpes sits on a stool outside his house, humming. Enter Marguerite. She stands in the doorway.

Marguerite

Just look at you, you luckless good-for-little,

Fine, lounging fox in lazy morning sun;

You idle shame, you poor excuse for shadow!

The work-called day is scarcely under way

And you're already resting your poor legs.

Vulpes

Poor legs, poor arms, poor body, and poor me!

I'm poor all over; there's a plain-seen truth.

I'm rich in poverty, in lack a lord.

Thus seen, what I have not, amounts to much-

A seeming set of clothes; good gold in store;

Food filling larders; fine and flowing cloaks;

An eager steed to gallop from my dust;

A library rich in law and lighter reading;

And manifold besides. Indeed, my wealth,

In penury, is most astonishing.

Marguerite (smiling)

I am not moved, dear fool, to feel amazed;

Nor much amused by turning words which would

Spin dark to light, bleak cold to summer heat;

For all I see still speaks a tattered truth,

Proclaiming your time-patched appearance as

Ill-starred, unfavoured by Fortuna, like

A tuneless minstrel or a poor-voiced player.

Vulpes (yawning)

Ah, Marguerite, however hard I labour

To pluck plump winnings from my work, I find

I cannot pile a few, fit coins together.

The harvest of my wit brings withered fruit.

Yet once I'd many ripe, rich clients; many.

How fickle fortune’s fated wheel. How hard

To hold on high; to keep from creaking downward.

Marguerite (mock serious)

Oh, Vulpes, stop! My ears, my ears just ring

From ever-hearing your sad rant about

Your faultless fall from fortune’s grace and all

The gratitude your once-great clients showed.

Did all your wit and word-embroidered cunning

Fit you to forecast this misfortune's flood?

Have you good cure for its cause? Forget

Your fine, past cases famed in court. These days,

Through all the length and width of world, there lives

No one who feels minutest faith in you.

Vulpes

No faith. Indeed, it is a faithless world.

Marguerite (ironically)

Well said, and what a marvel to pronounce.

Is this some wonder no one trusts your talent?

You boast no recent cases of repute.

Yet I recall how once they all would want

No one but you to win their court-blessed battles.

You know what laughing name they leave you now?

The has-been lawyer. That is what I've heard.

Vulpes

But nonetheless, and I am not in this

Just simply preening frayed and faded feathers,

Mine is the eagle mind of all this district,

In force and flight so far above the others

They seem mere distant magpies, crows, and sparrows.

Marguerite

Fine-feathered maybe, but with empty nest.

Vulpes (blustering)

Just try to image forth a case that I

Would not win once I matched my mind to it.

Yet I show not as spectacled professor,

Some greybeard pouring over yellowed parchment.

But though I'm not a rule book swat, I could

Beat any haggling Latin-learned scholar

And pound his argument into dry dust.

Marguerite

Intoning vanished glory fills no bellies,

Nor bans the thin and bitter ghost of hunger.

Look at our weary clothes- all holes and patches,

But fit for biting wind and scorn to blow through!

Vulpes

Our clothes, our clothes! Are those your only bother?

Look, nothing is as swift as changing fortune.

One spin of fate can make a beggar king;

One dice roll make the poorest gambler smile,

For there’s no chilling night that’s everlasting

For after dark new dawn delights the sky.

Marguerite

To wait for chance lets chances slip you by.

Vulpes

By all the stars that gleam in God's great heaven,

By both great, golden sun and silver moon,

Just give old lightning wit a chance to think-

No brain helps better than mine does at this.

(Vulpes taps his head)

Marguerite

Yes, no one owns such craft at cunning cheating.

Vulpes

At honest pleading, dear, at honest pleading

And all the finer, tangled points of law.

Marguerite

Yes, lying, swindling and misrepresenting.

You know your fundamental flaw? There lives

Not one soul who would credit you with growing

A single scholared hair upon your head.

Yet all agree that head is packed with cunning,

With slyness, craft and wit and trickery.

Vulpes

Yes, yes. Correct. A master of the law.

A dean of disputation, that's a fact.

Marguerite

A little lord of lies- so others think.

Vulpes

I work no worse than all those fools who dress

In silks and satins; peacock-proud and brainless...

(Vulpes looks across to where Jasper, the draper, has started putting out

cloth on display on a bench before his shop)

In silks and satins...curiously though

My mind's just made a way this very moment.

Dear wife, adieu. Adieu to you. I'm off

To market to begin some bargaining.

Marguerite

To market, fool ?

Vulpes

Yes, mark it- to the market!

Marguerite

I mark it well and marking it I mark

You've missed your mark, for mark well my remark,

If I don't miss the mark in marking this-

You’re off to market now with empty pockets,

Remarkably impoverished, without

A penny.

Vulpes

Marking your remarks I mark

Although I’m penniless with empty pockets,

You’ll mark my head’s not empty. Though I'm penceless,

I am not senseless: for my wealth's aloft.

By marking well this last remark, you’ll mark

I have already marked a market mark

And will not miss my mark. Is that marked clearly?

Marguerite

Quite. As a black horse on a starless night.

Vulpes (grandly)

Dear wife, if I do not return with cloth

Capacious quite to dress the both of us

Then call me- call me senseless then. Adieu.

I shall return with richest robes for you.

( Vulpes exits stage right)

Marguerite (after him)

Adieu. Drink all you can, good Master Wit;

As long as another fool is buying it.

(with satisfaction to herself)

It took a little stirring to rekindle

The mettle of his mischief and to bring

His will from melancholy idleness

To flashing, fiery, and persuasive life.

But now, awake at last, it would appear

The hungry fox has sniffed a rabbit near.

(Marguerite exits, returning back through the house.)