Doctor Vysarius

23. The Age of Magic Has Begun

[The Imperial Palace, throne room, sunset.]

[The throne room is empty, save a very bored EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN, and LORD PORKEO, trying desperately to entertain him.]

PORKEO, jigging and swinging his bauble.
Ta-tow, ta-tee, shall I do a jig for thee?
Ta-tum, tow-tee, one jig? Two jigs? Even three?

MAXIMILIAN, turning away contemptuously.
No, we will be having none of your jigs today, Lord Porkeo!

PORKEO, more jigging.
Too-too, ta-ta, a jig? Hurrah!
Too-too, ta-rah, a jig, haha!

MAXIMILIAN.
No! We will have no more of this!

PORKEO.
. . . Sire is in a sour mood?

MAXIMILIAN.
Yes, sire is a real grumpywumpy.

PORKEO.
Maybe some clownish foolery would lift your spirits?

MAXIMILIAN.
Stop it at once! I will laugh at nothing today!

PORKEO.
Nothing? Surely sire will laugh at something!

MAXIMILIAN.
No.

PORKEO.
So, we will have no japes?

MAXIMILIAN.
No.

PORKEO.
No jests?

MAXIMILIAN.
No!

PORKEO.
Not even—[gasps] a caper?

MAXIMILIAN.
No! No! No! There will be none of those things!

PORKEO, wounded.
Oh! Now Porkeo is sour, too.

MAXIMILIAN.
Enough of your silliness, Porkeo. We’ll have no more of it. All the court is sick of it, you know? They tell me so.

PORKEO.
They do?

MAXIMILIAN.
They do and oft they do!

PORKEO, stumbling over his words.
What do they say?

MAXIMILIAN.
They say thy japes have lost their luster much since this magician’s lighted on our court, and I agree.

PORKEO.
Why, jape-ing’s lustral as the dawn! What that laughs is tired of it? What sadness, with a smile, is not the sweeter for it? Laughter’s medicinable, and I as much a doctor as—

MAXIMILIAN, coldly.
Refine thy raillery, clown, or we will leave you off in favor of some finer fool.

PORKEO, tenderly.
But Porkeo has always been your clown, sire!
I tumbled for thy mother when, in birth-pang,
She was sick with thee. My clowning dulled that pain.
It was my jig that drew the laugh out of her lips
As you were drawn out with a sigh, conceived
At once, that laugh and thee. O think, my lord,
Think well and do not think a thought is thunk
’Till it is questioned sore! O think and think again:
My jests have ever been thy brother and thy friend,
Say now that you will find a finer fool?

MAXIMILIAN.
I—I think we shall not need a fool at all! Fools are out of fashion.

PORKEO.
Laughter’s never out of fashion.

MAXIMILIAN.
The age of laughter’s ended, clown! The age of magic has begun! [pause] Now, tell me: where is the magic man?

PORKEO, sadly jigging.
The magic man has magic jam! Ho-ho, ho-hee, oh my!
The magic man will cook’st ham! Ho-ho, ha-hee, oh—

MAXIMILIAN, furiously.
Lord Porkeo! Where is the magic man?

PORKEO, giving up on the jig.
I do not know, sire.

MAXIMILIAN, screaming.
Magic man!

PORKEO, shrinking.
Sire?

MAXIMILIAN, shrieking.
Magic man!

PORKEO.
I can’t—

MAXIMILIAN, screeching.
Magic man!

PORKEO.
Please—

MAXIMILIAN, howling.
I want the magic man!

[Enter the VALET and VYSARIUS.]

[lovingly] Ah! Magic man!

[MAXIMILIAN rushes past PORKEO to embrace VYSARIUS. The VALET grabs him by the collar to stop him touching the magician. MAXIMILIAN’s hands bat at the air uselessly, trying to get to the doctor. Eventually, he tires out and plops down on the ground.]

[panting] I love you, magic man. Do you love me?

[VYSARIUS tilts his head. Long silence.]

PORKEO.
. . . Sire?

[MAXIMILIAN says nothing, only stares ahead, lovingly, at VYSARIUS.]

Sire! [quietly] I love you.