Tears of a Clown

a brief entertainment

by Tom Rowan

CAST OF CHARACTERS

SUSETTE, a chambermaid Morgan Hallett

JASPERINO, a jester Justin Yorio

FLORENCIA, a countess Lauren Berst

Directed by Ricardo Reithmuller

Tom Rowan

PO Box 2048

Times Square Station

New York, NY 10108

212-398-2389

TLRowan@hotmail.com

www.tomrowan.net

SETTING: Florencia’s chambers, overlooking the river.

(SUSETTE is sewing a sapphire onto a shimmering gown. JASPERINO enters, brandishing his bauble.)

My lady! What means this dawdling on the afternoon before the annual Carnivale? As soon as the sun has set, all the knights and ladies of the court will be eating, drinking, dancing, and pursuing amorous adventures up and down the Piazza. But you! You are still here doing… just what are you doing, my lady?

I’m sewing the Countess Florencia’s gown for this evening. And I ain’t your lady nor anybody else’s. I’m a lowly chambermaid, I am–and chambermaids do not get invitations to Carnivale.

But who would ever know you were a maid? Everyone goes masked; that’s what makes it Carnivale! And you, what with your, if I may say, alluring pulchritude, should have no difficulty convincing everyone that you belong. They’ll think you a mysterious visiting princess from Portugal. Or Luxembourg! Somesuch place as that…

My dear Fool, flattery will get you… a fine slap in the face. Besides, even masked, my mobcap and apron would give me away, they would.

No cap and apron tonight! You’ll wear a gown of moonlight-colored taffeta, bedecked with gems that sparkle like your eyes.

A chambermaid’s wages might buy me one sleeve–if I hadn’t already spent them on a bag of chocolate kisses in the market square. (She eats one.) No, dear Jasperino, Carnivale is for the real ladies and gents, with their satins and silks and fine powdered wigs. I’ll curl up by the fireplace and read. Again.

But then, Susette, my evening will be spoilt. I myself am obligated to be there, telling jolly jokes and singing stupid songs to amuse the visiting dignitaries at the table of the duke. I may even be required to stand upon my head! Sans you it will be naught but drudgery. (He makes a funny sad face.) Just drudgery.

Drudgery is our lousy lot in life, Jasperino. Ain’t you used to it yet? We’ve got to endure it a few more years, and then there’s the comfort of the grave to look forward to.

Methinks you deserve better. (Thinks a moment) I present a proposition! If I can obtain, within the next five minutes, a gown well worthy of thy scintillating charms, will you agree to don a mask and come with me to the fete?

I’ll humor you by saying Yes. Five minutes? ‘Twill be a merry jest to watch you try. Methinks you’ll fall flat on your funny face.

Five minutes starting now!

(Enter the Countess FLORENCIA, in her dressing gown.)

Susette, were you to trouble yourself to take a look out that window, you would see the sun hovering lazily just over the crest of the western hills. The very moment it descends, a trumpet will sound a fanfare to herald the commencement of Carnivale: an event eagerly anticipated, and lasting but one night.

Get to the point ma’am.

And yet my gown appears not to be ready. Pray tell me I’m deceived.

The royal dressmaker used only the finest silken thread to sew on the sapphires and amethysts. So of course they all fell off. I’m just about finished with the repairs.

Then perhaps Jasperino here will divert us with some choice foolery while we wait.

Madame, I could not help but do so. ‘Tis after all the night of Carnivale, inspiring wit and romance in us all.

Three years have come and gone since our husband, the late lamented Count, heroically met his maker on the battlefields of Bologna. Since then we have worn black with reverence and, if we may be forgiven for saying so, with considerable style. But after a certain period of time, mourning becomes… a bore. And so we have decided the time is ripe for a, how shall we say, romantic tete-a-tete with a masked nobleman. Preferably in a gondola.

My lady, I applaud you. A gondola is quite the best, if not the only, mode of transit. In fact, most of the gondoliers today are students at the Academy of Operatic Arts. They’ll serenade you with arias by Donizetti, and only seldom capsize the boat.

“Seldom”?

Madam, they’re artists: no expense has been spared in their musical tutelage–which hardly leaves time for trivialities like obtaining a boatman’s license.

Dear me. Perhaps a change of plan. I suppose it would be wiser to remain on dry land–for instance, among the gaming tables!

The gaming tables, indubitably! I’ve often heard it said a professional gambler makes for the best possible second husband!

Your meaning, Fool?

Won’t he be taking a chance on a Queen who’s had a full house for years? She’s long since lost her heart, so he can only hope she’s been left with a few diamonds to spread around before she has him clubbed or, dare we way it,spayed.

Jasperino, if you mean to imply that a widow is prey fit only for prospectors, it might behoove you to remember that my many cherishable qualities have been praised in song by troubadours and wandering knights throughout the land–

Since time immemorial!

You rascal. It’s a mystery why we all put up with your continual impertinence. One can only be grateful for the bells on your motley cap, which in announcing each impending arrival, provide a moment to prepare one’s ego for the inevitable flaying. (She turns to SUSETTE.) Girl, are you nearly finished? I fear me all the finest gentlemen will have chosen their dancing partners before we have quite made our entrance on the floor.

The dance floor! At last my lady has chosen wisely. A courtly dance is quite the most fertile ground for hunting a husband. Especially at a costume ball, where your velvet mask will effectively forestall any question of crow’s feet. The gentlemen, if gentle they are, will assume you to be no more than sixteen years of age–and possessed of the abundant energy and appetites belonging to that age. Deprived of a view of your face, their eyes cannot but be drawn to the only part of your person they can see, which judging by the cut of this bodice will in all likelihood be–

Jasperino!

And as the prancing, leaping swains surround you on the floor, competing for the honor of cleaving to your cleavage, their hot perspiring hands taking hold of any available–

On reconsideration, it may be that the dance floor is intended for younger… toes than mine. Besides, do not the most discerning gentlemen rather frequent the banquet tables?

Where randy young lords, lubricated by the finest wines or even, shall we venture to say it, absinthe, will be ready and ravenous for a second course! I hope you weren’t planning on wearing that gown more than once, Countess. The term “bodice ripper” was coined at Carnivale!

(Pause)

Susette. The shade of that gown will never do. I distinctly told the dressmaker mauve, and unless my eyes mistake me, this is very nearly lavender. Even with all the jewels restored, it won’t set off the color of my eyes as I require.

So sorry, Ma’am. But I don’t know what can be done at this–

There’s no remedy for it; none. I’m left with no recourse but to retire to my rooms and read. Fortunately, I recently began a novel that is only now ripening to juiciness. (She looks at JASPERINO.) Our Fool’s jests have brought back fond memories of the Carnivales of my extreme youth, which is, after all, the time of life when such gaudy entertainments are best enjoyed. I leave you to your work.

(Exit FLORENCIA. JASPERINO grins at SUSETTE, who is still holding the dress.)

Ta da! I’d say I actually accomplished that in just… four and a half minutes. Thirty seconds to spare! And it will look far better on you. (He smiles at her.) Give us a kiss?

Certainly; I have two left. (She takes a chocolate kiss out of her bag and tosses it to him.) You clever pup. (She dances around delightedly with the dress.) I’ll never doubt you again.

Remember, I’ll be working at the duke’s table, under the archway; find me there at nine. We can sneak down to the footbridge whilst the lords and ladies enjoy their dessert. Bring a candle.

I don’t expect I’ll be able to squeeze that in.

What… ?

My strategy is to begin at the gaming tables, then ride a gondola over to the dance floor, and then go on to the banquet. At least until I find a randy young lord who wants to cleave to my cleavage, sweep me off my feet, and carry me away from this drudgery once and forever! It’s Carnivale, Jasperino! Anything can happen. And it will.

But wait; Susette! What about our plans? What of our bargain?

“Bargain”?

That if I found you a dress, you would… go with me. Jasperino. To the Carnivale, as my… you know, Susette! On my arm. As my… my special wench.

Was that what I said? (Pause) Jasperino, I love you to death, honest I do. You’re a laugh and a half. But you’re the clown! (She laughs and runs out gaily with the dress. JASPERINO deflates and slowly turns to face the audience.)

This scene was meant for comedy, but ends

A different way: my sweet Susette is gone.

But do not think to weep for me, dear friends.

A jester’s tears are only painted on.

Art and Music in Our Souls

The archive…

Tears of a Clown (a brief entertainment)- by Tom Rowan

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