28. Finale (Falling / Another Angel Falls / Greet, Regreet, and Pass Away)
[The Imperial Palace, throne room, midnight.]
[MAXIMILIAN, the CARDINAL in chains, and COURTIERS assembled in the throne room. Everything is bathed in red light from three great unseen windows. A masquerade is underway; some of the COURTIERS wear masks, these fashioned after VYSARIUS’ vizard: still, unfeeling, cold. The VALET leans rakishly against one side of the throne, polishing an apple, taking a bite, smiling thinly, all wan looks, knowing grins. Behind the throne, and at the emperor’s right hand, lurks the monolithic figure of VYSARIUS, all dimly glowing eyes in shadows. Onstage, musicians in masks tune their instruments, play discordant strains of weird minuets and waltzes. Some of the COURTIERS dance.
Now, through the great window over the throne, we may see a heavenly body slowly hurtling down—growing larger and larger, covering the world in darkness.]
MAXIMILIAN, nervously.
This music’s funny.
VALET.
The king grows weary of my master’s skill?
MAXIMILIAN.
. . . Where is my clown?
[A group of COURTIERS, dancing in a ring, break off from each other, snapping like dogs. The VALET strikes up a song. All dance, save VYSARIUS, who stands like a statue at the center of the court—black axle of those wheeling dancers—and the emperor, who remains enthroned.]
VALET.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
ALL.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
[Enter LEOPOLD, as in a dream.]
VALET, coolly.
Imperial majesty, I present, the Great Astronomer.
MAXIMILIAN.
Astronomer? Ah, Leopold. What does the silly star-man want today?
[The falling body now covers the sky, its shadow growing, slowly blotting out the world. LEOPOLD sings to the court, and out into the sky.]
LEOPOLD.
I can see it now,
Coming down,
Falling.
ALL.
Ah! Ah!
LEOPOLD.
Coming down,
To the ground,
Falling.
ALL.
Ah! Ah!
LEOPOLD.
Larger now,
Now you’re coming down,
Falling.
[Enter PORKEO, coming to LEOPOLD’s side.]
ALL.
Ah! Ah!
LEOPOLD.
Where other stars
Go tumbling down,
The wind will drown . . .
LEOPOLD & PORKEO.
All the sound . . .
LEOPOLD.
Of falling.
ALL.
Ah! Ah!
LEOPOLD.
The end shall be
Everlastingly
Falling,
Falling,
Falling . . .
[All look to the sky as the celestial body plunges to earth.]
ALL.
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la
[Just as the light is fully extinguished, LEOPOLD extends a hand to PORKEO, who takes it.
Then, the giant corpse of an angel comes crashing to the stage. Blackout.
Long silence; long darkness. Then, with a mechanical “thunk,” bright spot comes up on PORKEO, knelt on the ground, holding LEOPOLD—all tattered, blackened, scorched.
Weird metallic whirring, then the wind-up rooster hops its way into the spot. PORKEO watches as it hops, winds down, then stops.
Spot out.]
END