APRIL TROPAERIAL - A SONG FOR SHATTERED MINDS

I wrote this from a padded cell, in an asylum for the insane. On my skin, on the walls, in my head, and wherever else I could write.

Prologue

Chorus.

Moravia, country filled with Czechman pride,
which borders Easterly of Bohemian side,
where many babes were born in times of fear
and fully grew the Nineteen hundredth year.
There one was sickly raised to slow dispose,
while ‘round him, kin to grounded dreams arose,
by nature to still life infantile born,
and nurture him rapacious fates forlorn.
He by his own sore mind was chiefly raised,
to be a man whose temper moonlight phased,
with reckoning ambitions that to stars reach,
and inhibitions all at the beseech.
When tides had fall at his approval and
the moon betided fortune in his hand,
acquired career unfitting one as him,
but great befitting his phantasms and whim.
As Pressman this was all that he achieved
unable to escape what he perceived,
a tumult! That appears the culprit as
the tides arose and took from all he has.
Estranged, benighted by tricks of the mind,
pursued he's night by shadows; frightful kind;
and in this trifles vain philosophies:
to and what for fear and he like is.

 

ACT I Scene 4

A gentle PAVEL is walking by a busy street, a busy restaurant villa, its spring and Easters eve.

(Enter Pavel holding his head, confuse and desolate, alone and perplexed by all he sees and hears, joining things together that arent there alike)

PAVEL.

these men and women that around me throng,
do not hear my song, that in my head sings
of petra's hair; the long and thin gold springs.
each trestle strung together in a wreathe,[1]
which smelled of honey with a taste as sweet.[2]
their gaze is unaccusing; curious eyes,[3]
lay down young trembling hands, thoughts keep inside.[4]
this haze of lunacy, the heavens shone,[5]
thus much to make poor pavel's mind hard worn.[6]
with countenance weak and with angst outshown,[7]
there's little favour from pure minds indrawn;[8]
least fare would petra, and her glorious mind,[9]
whence thousand more a hardy man she'd find.
lest by these hereward strict looks and hard stares,[10]
i feel i've purity'n' petra e're dispaired.
this is the ireful feeling that won't cease.[11]
this is the madness that i know so well.

they can hear, surely i can hear it here,
they hear, it's mesmer's magnetism in jeer:
the fluid in excess swims in my brain,
and like the phone emits my thoughts to gain.
no covering of the hands work good there for,
nor by my means can physic here succour.
alone and lofty i stand in their height,
a show of wonderment toward their might;
for this, they round me are together chained,
foreboding to leave me; unentertained.
(these, the blood enemies of dignity,
who into me spy, foes of liberty)
but if i should think nothing then i'm saved,
if pavel only could be half so brave.
there's no recourse i have that is but flee
and homeward turn and from abuse become free.
but thickly crowds before you stop your flight,
and will you should not leave their awful sight.
yet with each second still you stand in wait,
they hear the feeble plans you've conjured late.
there's no recourse, i must through them push,
and by this force, to homely freedom rush.

(Pavel begins pushing, fighting through the throngs of pedestrians, his flight through the crowds)

away move them, through pronging they'll displace.
no hinderence is forgiven: no small space.
be resolute, and earn again your grace.

voice petr.

run firm, with youthful hands upon the face;
weak man: against the eyes that ever chase,
like kid, in fleeing loud guns of the hunt,
the frightful men run from sounds of the grunt.
with closed eyes, directionless with no might,
there's otherwise no course but this slow flight,
a famous plan was made, with such bold charity,
yet fierce men stand fast with no gift of pity.
hands down, off meek young pavel's squalid face,
against the eyes that each sallying trace.
no kin, no saviour had from safety lent,
in alleys run, for therein's quiet spent;
as men augment; spent faster then't's received.

VOIce antonin.

standing weakly always i have seen him,
with face in hands confiding in his whim.
a veritible woman'n men's clothing,
despaired by what beneath his dress is hiding.

voice Vincenc

and harming not a giddy one he saw,
in thinking falsely crowds beyond him are.

voice Milena

a maiden hurried into manly dressing;
for love of ladies her will impressing.

VOICE ANTONIN.

but handsome she is, with her hurried looks,
her hair in tandem with her furry boots.

VOICE VINCENC

her wit a tip to match her looks has took.

VOICE MILENA

a style men knavish after here will look.

VOICE VINCENC

her petra might she ever learn the truth,
her pavel is a wanton maid uncouth?

voice dalibor

no, much like she her petra is a fool,
not seeing pavel's girly fortitude:
the which we all can plainly see,
when even she's to dim lit alleys fleed.
a simple minded fool that petra is,
not that in pavelska she's ruled there's bliss.

VOICE VINCENC

her forlorn love has hither made her sick,
no needle of science, nor wand of magic,
can cure the malady glamarous petra bore.

VOICE ANTONIN.

then gentles, can we confer her ills therefore?

VOICE VINCENC

She's sick!

VOICE MILENA

sh's mad!

VOICE DALIBOR

she ails her lady'll see,
how small a man her pavelska will be.

VOICE MILENA

pity her.

VOICE DALIBOR

for this inverted woman, no, a saw
and axe with rusty blades will good do her.

PAVEL.

what is it making me sojourn, remain to my countrymen's ridicule,
faltering plans that were soundly contrived, which device o'er my mind had rule.
sickly this fluid has made me, yet physicians claim there's no mesmerous temperement,
why does it strain in my brain, with becomings so ferverent.[14]
how is there life to successfully strive on when strife is disparaging,
constant'n impairing on, when an ability calls on for judgementing.
still with a furious question, and quiet in wondering--- why does it never pause?
phoning to pedestrians thoughts of it--- when do you never pause?
such would their laughing resemble my petra'n dumbfoundedness.
seeing in manner the nothing her pavel attains in confoundedness.
sullen she would be to hear the imprudence of thoughts which give rancour to audience,
scorn me to ugliest hell will she: gaining her quintessence.[15]
why were you born not as great alexander, the slayer of darius, or
roman vesspasian, subduer of briggants when britain he came and saw.
why is this pavel that i have, and why is this ailment in magnetism hardly had:
stockily, frightfully making me simple with looking mad.[16]
cast off your sombre looks, the tears and grime,
give friends a show of face with virile shine.
for this my men and women love the best,
a face as white as aphrodite's breast.

VOICE VINCENC

what would not i have done, to see this show?
i would my home have sold for here to go.

VOICE ANTONIN.

a showman pavel with her petra must be,
to entertain moravia with their tragedy.

VOICE MILENA

but not can any show be given, for
the delicates by puritan humble law,
would seize upon them harsh with unforgiving,
for breaking lore that god has gave to living,
despoiling all the fun we could be having.

Cenek enters the scene to pavel from afar, dearly concerned

CENEK.

oh pavel, watching you in darkened alleys hid,
with looking miserable, i concernedly bid:
tell me what is sorely afflicting you?

VOICE VINCENC

pavel, who's fault is it to blame for you,
that songstress petra, star struck you has she?

CENEK.

oh pavel, turn your face to gaze to me,
and tell me why the such disturbing looks,
and what's the cause for rowdy crowds' rebukes?

PAVEL.

will their abuse persist to never cease,
am i to mocking men the golden fleece?
the plan devised had i remember they,
and joyful now in my err have they play.
but why these men are comming close to me,
what means their gathering? i but hear, not see.

VOICE PETR.

give face to him who has your shoulders held,
tell him you're sickly needing hard men's help.

(pavel turns around to face the mnan holding his shoulders)

PAVEL.

 ah cenek! why you're here and others far?

Cenek.

came alone had i pavel, to the bar,
to celebrate the easter day of christ.
our friends vaclav and jiri are in office,
there writing articles kolar willed suffice.
myself had i writ one such scathing piece,
on one margraviate landtag's devious niece.
have you your intended work on feud law done,
or answer; through these streets why have you run?

PAVEL.

his fluid i have found to ooze'n my brain.

cenek.

whose fluid? with your puzzling tongue refrain
and earnest, tell me clear upon what chanced.

PAVEL.

mesmer's fluid.
i have seen it lucid.

cenek.

but mesmer was a doctor'f superstition,
his mesmerism's dead to all physician.
a hundred, no, a hundred longer years,
the french scientific council made declares;
in having found no magnetic fluid like his
in bodies, living, dead and between, this:
that mesmer was a false and artful quack,
and there's no mesmerous humour which gives wrack.

VOICE ANTONIN.

pavel you are mad, and can't flee from it,
broken men will to mad houses commit.
only white confined rooms can find you peace
and nothing but this, can your ills decrease.

PAVEL.

(suddenly frightened for his life to be taken away)

dear cenek come! give heed what i decree:
wicked men come with means to aprehend me.

Cenek.

which men, what secret have you whither found?

pavel.

one such that men are come to gag me'n' bound,
presently must we like olympians flee.

cenek.

then come sweet pavel, where is safety flown.

PAVEL.

my hand here take, direct me out of town.

VOICE ANTONIN.

nowhere is safe for pavel: not a space.
no one can save you that out'n'out disgrace.

(Pavel forcefully leading Cenek away from enemies he pereives instantly are chsing him: all the while believing Cenek can hear his thoughts. He finds in himself his thoughts are muddled, to him he believes encoded, hopefully at the least)

PAVEL.

the murderous men are comming after fast;
come take my hand, we'll distance give them vast.
ignore what all you hear me say and fly!

cenek.

from foeman hide, and i'll what you decry.

VOICE DALIBOR

more womanly now then ever her face,
seen running at faster womanly pace,
with laughter i cannot but help her trace,
each female step she after man gives chase.

VOICE VINCENC

with running uniform like circus clown,
her hand in his, at force to homeward flown.

PAVEL.

malicious men will i retreat their ground,
resolve will pavel show, and not be found;
this flight is only course toward salvation.
you think it cenek well?

Cenek.

what thinking well?

Petr

run pavel; be resolute; escape harm.

pavel.

let's faster run.
to where e're; safety's warm.

VOICE DALIBOR

you can't fast enough pace to escape bondage.

(exit all, pavel and cenek in flight)

dual dialogue

[1] patron chech

what ho, who is this man that thither walks so?

[2] patron vladamir

with such a smile; ladies in his head give show.

[3] pedestrian perina

there be no blessing fairer than a lady....

[4] patron iaquinta

a good lady, virginal with verity.

[5] pedestrian menzel

a night of reverence this has fast become.

[6] patron hanak

to rights of evenescense all men succomb.

[7] pedestrianlada

a famous walk he has with such charity.

[8] pedestrian milan

but what gives trouble to young men greatly?

[9] patron radok

love forlorn: for sworn this trouble him agrieved.

[10] patron PODKAPOVA.

god pity him for devil's him deceived.
his misery fiercly i know god forsooth.

[11] patron novotny.

watch that space where there walks that feeble youth!

[12] patron baros.

there's something familiar in this man i know't.

[13] patron tausky.

see yonder fellow trudging there along?
he is a madman, in deed i'll write it.

[14] voice vincenc.

with tears, her wretched truth to crowds are shown
and still she's standing, home toward not flown.
her feeble plan her feeble brain deduced,
remains a piping dream from fear produced,
and home is not a distance easily travelled.
a truly famous plan infantly ravelled,
the which in i instantly revel,
a foolish girl is this one pavel.

[15]voice milena

no lady would ask hand for one as her,
a male pretend with wobbling knees as flaw.

[16] voice antonin

ah, now she gives a better show to crowds.
her cries have died, her stance refined, she's proud
her manly side no longer hides, and dries her tears,
but constant will she hear her townsmen's jeers,
which soon by virtue should replace with cheers.

Author's Note

It took months to complete, spending all day, so please be kind