Thomas Jackson's Website

Easter Island

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Preliminary scene.

 

A young man is kneeling over a dead woman.

 

He sings:

  

Isn’t life good good good

 Life on Easter Island

 Because we’ve wood wood wood

 On Easter Island

 Aaaach! Aaaaach! Aaaach!

 On Easter Island

 Aaaaach! Aaaaach! Aaaaach!

 

 

 

 

 

Scene 1

 

 

 

A TV studio to side of stage. In midstage we see a film crew filming the man and dead woman

 

 Newscaster: Viewers are warned that our report from Easter Island contains material that some viewers may find distressing and flash photography. What can you tell us, Martin?

  

(9)

 

Reporter: Well Hugh the tragedy here is rapidly unfolding. There are now very few animals left on the island and more and more people are dying from starvation every day. This island that was once so abundantly covered in trees is now as you can see a moonscape. Scientists say that this has been coming for a hundred years, because for all that time the islanders have been cutting down trees in the name of their wooden gods. But nobody paid any attention to them. We came across a young man cradling his dead in his arms. (They wheel the camera to just over the young man and the dead woman in his arms and start intrusively and pruriently filming the scene. To the young man): Have you any message for the viewers back home? (young man moans and mumbles ‘wood’). He is saying he thinks that basic problem is a shortage of wood. Well good luck young man. Continuing storms and hurricanes have closed the airport on the island and are

 

(20)

 

 

preventing emergency aid getting through. Druids on the island are desperately searching birds’ entrails for signs of an end to the drought that is devastating this community. The last horse was ritually sacrificed yesterday but the island’s gods remain impassive. World leaders have expressed their concern and the Pope has asked for prayers as has the Archbishop of Canterbury. Back to you in the studio Hugh

 

Newscaster: And now for the day’s other news. Some councils in England and Wales are going to start charging for wheely bin collections…(we see him mouthing as if the sound has been turned down as we proceed to the next scene)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scene 2.

 

 

(Enter chorus  singing)

 

 

 

Isn’t life good good good

 Life on Easter Island

 Because we’ve wood wood wood

 On Easter Island

 Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!

 On Easter Island

  

(6)

 

 Life’s really very nice

 Welcome to paradise

 On Easter Island

 Because we’ve wood wood wood

 On Easter Island

 Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!

 On Easter Island

 

 

Prepare to live the dream

 It’s all strawberries and cream

 On Easter Island

 Because we’ve wood wood wood

 On Easter Island

 Isn’t life good good good

 On Easter Island

 Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!

 On Easter Island

 

  

(21)

  

The same song as a the beginning but now sung to a merry tune, although recognisably related to the first version.

  

In each verse the anguished cries of Aaaagh! Are replaced by Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! For Easter Island.

 

 

 

Scene 3. The protestors’ camp.

 

 

Pr. A: Have you heard the latest from Christmas Island? Over half the population is starving now.

 B: Oh the poor people. We must give them something.

  D: Collection for Christmas Island!. Pass round the cap (they donate)

 A: Thank goodness it’s not happening here. It couldn’t happen here could it?

 B: I’m not so sure. Where lost species go today we go tomorrow. There’s only one single web of life. (He/she reads out of Earth Matters, the FoE magazine, a passage about species loss)

Pr A.: So many species already gone. I can’t bear it.

 Pr B.: And so very many more under threat and soon to go

 (10)

 (they sing together):

 Sing a sad song for all the lost species

 Forever gone. Forever gone.

 Sing a sad song for beautiful creatures

 Forever gone. Forever gone.

 Disappeared in the last fifty years

 (The names of the species are recited while the tune is hummed in the background)

 The Blotched Woodwax The Pashwood Pot beetle The Black Archer The Meadow Skipper Irish Lady’s Tresses The Large Tortoiseshell The Black Backed Meadow Ant The Spotted Sulphur The Greater Mouse Eared Bat Ivell’s Sea Anemone The Adonis Blue The Marble White

 (19)

 Sing a sad song for all the lost species

 Forever gone. Forever gone

 Sing a sad song for beautiful creatures

 Forever gone. Forever gone.

 And so many more And so many more

 Forever gone. Forever gone.

  

Sing a sad song for all the shy creatures

 Almost gone. Almost gone.

 Sing a sad song for beautiful creatures

 Almost gone. Almost gone

 Rarely seen and little lamented

 (31)

 (recited and hummed as before)

 The Yellow Wagtail Motacilla Flava

 The Tree Sparrow Passer montanus

 The Corn Bunting Miliaria calandra

 The Reed Bunting Emberiza schoeniclus

 The Natterjack Toad Epidalea calamita

 The Corncrake Crax crax

 The Shrill Carder Bee Bombus sylvarum

 Sing a sad song for all the shy species

 Almost gone. Almost gone.

 Sing a sad song for beautiful creatures

 Almost gone. Almost gone.

 And so many more. And so many more

 Almost gone. Almost gone.

 (44)

 Sing a sad song for even common species

 Soon to be gone. Soon to be gone.

 Sing a sad song for beautiful creatures

 Soon to be gone. Soon to be gone.

 Even these dear friends could soon disappear

 (50)

 (the names recited to a hummed background as before)

 The common frog The house sparrow The eel The red squirrel The dormouse The honey bee The cabbage white The water vole The seagoing salmon

 Sing a sad song for even common species

 Soon to be gone. Soon to be gone.

 Sing a sad song for beautiful creatures

 Soon to be gone. Soon to be gone.

 And so many more. And so many more.

 Sing a lament for the sorrowing earth

 Sing a song for beautiful creatures

 Sing a lament for the sorrowing earth

 (60)

 C: Things have got so bad it justifies really affirmative action in my view. It’s going to have to be armed struggle I guess.

 B: You mean bombs, killing people?

 C: If necessary yes. I hate that as much as you do. But what good has the soft approach ever achieved?

 D: It will only alienate people. We shall end up having even less support than we have now.

 A: So futile hand-wringing is OK but really getting somewhere isn’t? Look at South Africa. It was armed struggle that succeeded.

 B: OK. You give me South Africa. I give you Northern Ireland. Years and years of bombing and killing got nowhere.

 (72)

 D: It’s people talking to each other that works in the end. Otherwise the flies just buzz more and more angrily round the same old bottle.

 C: I take your point. I understand what you are saying. But I don’t think that you understand what we are saying. We’re heading for immense catastrophe. We can see that but other people can’t and we’ve got to bring it to their attention. When people are fast asleep only a really loud alarm clocks wakes them. What do you think Lucio?

 Lucio: What’s that?

 A: He’s thinking about Rosalind again. He’s getting married in a fortnight. Or is it his research?

 C: Hey Lucio! Are you in there? Anybody at home? Do you want affirmative action?

 Are you pro armed struggle or not?

 (83)

 Lucio: Armed struggle? Are you saying armed struggle? What does it mean exactly?

 A: Come on Lucio. Love will find a way, Lucio.

 Lucio: You may mock but it will. Of course it will.

 B: Leave him. He’s got it too bad.

 C: Well armed struggle or not? Hard or soft? Show of hands please.

 (The vote is equal. All have voted except Lucio and they turn to him for the casting vote)

 A: It’s up to you Luce.

 Lucio (waking up): Armed struggle or not you say? So it’s bombs or kisses. Bombs? Or kisses? Hello I love you…or goodbye I hate you. Hard or soft you say ? Maybe it’s too late whatever we do. Let’s give soft one more chance.

 C: One more chance! One more chance! It’s always one more chance. Alright. Let’s vote on that. One more chance before affirmative action. Who’s for one more chance? Or for more affective action while there’s still time?

 (They vote, and this time no-one else agrees with C)

 C (reluctantly): Alright. I bow to the majority. What’s the plan then? Leaflets? Protest demo? Street theatre? I was under the impression that all these have already failed many times.

 A: Yes you’re right there. We’ve tried all those things. We need something new.

 B: We need more information. About what Big Wood’s up to. Good intelligence. Didn’t Clausewitz say that’s the first rule of war?

 (100)

 Lucio: How about this? Big Wood’s throwing a fancy dress ball next week to celebrate this year’s record profits. How about if we dress up as wood investors and crash it to see what we can pick up?

 D: Where do we get the penguin suits from? Treemoss Bros?

 C: It’s a fancy dress ball. We can go as ourselves. What a beautiful irony. We should be able to dress up as dissidents quite well. We don’t put on funny clothes. We put on funny accents.

 (They start pretending to be mega rich capitalists. ‘Say, I just flew in from LA for the party’. ‘Next year bigger still’ ‘How’s the Dow? Running out of stratosphere?’ ‘We don’t like to boast but…’ ‘Big Wood. I just love you. Bigger Wood nest year I’ll love you even more’ ‘See you at Davos’ ‘San Tropez’ ‘New York’ ‘ A nice little hideaway I have in the Seychelles’ ‘Wood. Wood. Wood. is Good Good Good’. They sing)

 (107)

 When I’ve chopped down every tree

 In the whole world

 Just for you Just for you

 And turned it into money

 Just for you Just for you

 Then I’ll know I’ve lived and breathed

 Just for you

 O my wallet! O my wallet!

 

 When I’ve burned down every forest

 In the whole world

 Just for you Just for you

 And turned it into dollars

 Just for you Just for you

 Then I’ll know I’ve lived and breathed

 Just for you

 O my unit trusts! O my unit trusts!

  (123)

 When I’ve killed off every living thing

 In the whole world

 Just for you Just for you

 I’ll invest then in no more killing

 Just for you Just for you

 Then I’ll live and breathe easy

 Just for you

 O my investment portfolio! O my investment portfolio!

 

(131)

  

When I’ve put out every other fire

In the whole world

 Just for you Just for you

And abandoned every false desire

But pure love of money

Just for you Just for you

Then I’ll know I’ve lived and breathed

Just for you

O money! O money! O money

(140)

They exit except for C. Pathetic. I’ve really got them on the horns of a dilemma now. Imagine dressing d up for a fancy dress ball as the IRA’s or Mandela’s mainline strategy! If they go on with peaceful protests it’s futile. If they get aggressive, the result from their point of view will be even worse. Perhaps a few bombs to finish them off. The boss will be pleased with this.

 

Scene 4. Big Wood Announces Record Profits

 

Chairman: Ladies and Gentlemen, as Chairman of Easter Island Wood Company it is my honour and privilege to make public to you today our company’s annual returns for this past financial year. Big Wood is what we are popularly called. And rightly so. For we are indeed big and getting bigger. It is my great privilege to reveal to you today that our profit last year was three billion, seven hundred and fifty thousand, five hundred and seventeen twig dollars, a no less than 17% increase on our record profits last year.

(6)

There are those who envy our success and seek to criticize us in the name of protecting the environment. They pass as the ethically pure and would portray us as the villains. Let me tell you this. It is we who are most concerned about the future of the world, not they. It is we who will save the earth. It is only we who have the power to invest in new technologies that will avert the hazards that lie ahead. We must believe in science. We must believe in the power of the human mind. Above all we must believe in the gods. We must believe that our gods will protect us in the future as they have always done in the past. Beware soft-minded and soft-hearted fools, these Luddites, these enemies of mankind, these despisers of enterprise and invention, these atheists who no longer worship the wooden gods of Easter Island. Invest in Big Wood. Invest in the future. Trust the gods.

 (17)

 Ladies and Gentlemen, I invite you most cordially to our tenth annual ball, celebrating record profits for ten years running. But first, let us worship and give our most grateful thanks to the wooden gods.

 (all don masks and stretch out their arms)

 

 

 O eternal and unmoving gods, you who look out so serenely and so constantly over the seas of uncertainty and hazard, we worship you, we adore you, we thank you.

 (percussion, harsh and crashing brass, wailing woodwind, all cry out to the gods) O wooden gods, O wooden gods of Easter Island, we adore you, we worship you, we thank you. O wooden gods, never turn to stone. O wooden gods never turn to stone.

 

 

(21)

 

Scene 5.

 

(enter Lucio)

 

 

Lucio: I fear the worst. What a strange thing, to hope that your own research is wrong and that of your rivals and opponents is right. But whatever I do I come to the same conclusion. It is not that Easter Island is obviously doomed, for if it were every fool would see the danger. But that we are very close to a point of no return, that we will soon cross a threshold almost unnoticed, but after it we will not be able to turn back. That after this vital tipping point not we but the earth itself will start to destroy itself. It is not that Big Wood chopping down the trees will itself destroy the earth, for, as they always point out, more will grow. But that the earth is so delicately balanced. The trees absorb carbon and hold water. Once we disable these balancing mechanisms, carbon

 

 (10)

 

emissions will increase unchecked, there will be more water run-off, the land will get drier, more trees will catch fire which means that the next year the ground will get drier still which means that next year…..you see the dreadful logic. I have checked over and over again. I have put the right ingredients in the cauldron. I’ve looked into my crystal ball most carefully at every new moon for the last eighteen months. I’ve read the tea leaves. I have consulted the stars. I’ve cast spells while my bitch is on heat. But all of it keeps coming up with the same thing. We are disabling a most delicate and vulnerable system of checks and balances. We are angering the earth. We are abusing our loving mother. We are, to put it bluntly, chopping down too many trees. Water run-off will increase, carbon emissions will not be balanced out and desertification will start to gallop. O to be wrong. May I be wrong. In spite of everything may I be wrong. Is it too late?

 

 

 

(21)

 

 

 

Scene 6.

 

(There are two long tables down each side of the stage. Investment bankers rush in to each side. They carry crystal balls and cauldrons into which they hastily start throwing ingredients and stirring. They blow bubbles to each other across the stage and make as if to catch the bubbles in their hands and read the messages they carry. They have shells crooked between their necks and shoulders and urgently shout messages into them in a hubbub of noise. ‘Buy buy buy Sell sell sell. What’s the Nikkei saying? Dow

 

up three points. Sterling has dropped against the twig dollar. Footsie down two. How is New York reacting to Big Wood’s record profits? I repeat How is New York reacting to Big Wood’s record profits? ) (you get the idea, this is all pretty feeble but I think the conceit of a dealing room that works on magic is quite a possibility and I’m sure we could find somebody who could tell us what dealers really shout into their phones in dealing rooms).

 

 

 

Scene 7.

 

(Felicity and Shelly prepare for the ball. They have been playing badminton and are carrying the bats and a shuttlecock).

 

  

Enter Felicity and Shelly

  

Shelly: I wish I could go to the ball too.

 Felic: We’ll find a way Shell. Of course we will.

 Shell: I’m pinning all my hopes on you Felicity. Who are you going to go as then?

 Felic: Somebody unusual that nobody else will go as.

Shell: Mrs Pankhurst? The Queen of Sheba? Eve?

 Felic: I can’t see myself as any of them. Though Eve would solve the costume problem.

 Shell: Miss Moneypenny perhaps.

 

(10)

 

Felic: Oh James come back safe. (pause) But you said that last time.

 Shell: Nineteen thirties film star?

 Felic: That’s a good idea. How about Marlene Dietrich? (she puts the shuttlecock on her head as the toque, mimes pulling on the long elbow gloves and fastening a cigarette into the end of a very long holder. Taking a long drag. Husky American/German voice: Let’s make long slow love, Honey

 Shelly: What about Boudicea?

 Felic: Or is she Boudicca: I’d need knives on my chariot wheels. How about Mrs Thatcher as Boudicea. (mimes Mrs Thatcher’s quick walk and looking in her handbag for her make-up): No No No. You see what we want is a return to Victorian values. You don’t spend all your money (swotting somebody with the badminton racket: ‘You may be a Roman General but you will not speak until you are spoken to. No No No’). You don’t spend all your money at once you see. You save some up and put it in your piggy bank…Or how about Kirsty Wark? Nobody’s going to go as Kirsty Wark (holding

 herself in prim Kirsty Wark manner, Edinburgh accent) What will the people of Morningside think of that then?

 

(27)

 

 Shell: You can’t go as Kirsty Wark.

  

Felic: OK then. Marlene Dietrich playing Kirsty Wark. Dietrich’s greatest role (again mime of shuttlecock, gloves, cigarette holder, long drag) Come and get me Paxman. What will the people of Morningside think of that then?

 

 Shell: This still isn’t getting me into the ball.

Felic: I know. Got it. I’ll be Marie Antoinette and you can be my maid. (Marlene Dietrich mime again) Let them eat cake. This is my hair stylist in case I need my hair doin’ durin’ the ball.

 

(Interruption of TV news room.)

 

TV: This is breaking news. There has been a bomb explosion in Woodville, the capital of Easter Island. Twelve people so far are known to have been killed and at least forty injured. A breakaway group from the island’s environmental protesters has claimed responsibility. We will bring you more news as it comes in.

 

(40)

 

Felicity: My father, my father. O Daddy Daddy. Is he safe? How can we get back to Woodville? (rings on mobile) Come on come on come on. No reply.

 

Shell: The next train isn’t till tomorrow morning.

Felicity: O how terrible. Think of all the poor injured people. Were there any children? O Daddy Daddy, be safe be safe. (rings again) Come on come on. The husbands waiting for wives who don’t come home. How can anybody do such a thing? Think of the dogs waiting patiently for their masters. I can’t bear it. The dogs. Waiting patiently. I can’t bear it. I so hope Daddy’s OK. He must surely be high on the terrorists’ hit list. Oh Shell. It’s the horribleness of it. As if somebody had burnt a hole in a precious silk dress. Or made a great rent in the beautiful way things are meant to be.

  

 

(50)

 

 Shell: I’m sure your father’s OK. They’d have said (Felicity’s mobile rings)

 

Felicity: Hello…Thank the wooden gods you’re OK Daddy. I’m so relieved…I’m so pleased… Of course, of course…Ring again as soon as you can. (ringing off). He’s OK. He says we must carry on as normal. We can’t let these people win. The ball will go ahead as planned.

 

Shell: Back to Woodville then

 

Felic: Back to Woodville a.s.a.p. The horror of it all, the horror of the world, Shell.

 

(57)

 

 

Scene 8. Enter chorus; Song.

 

 

 

How slender is the thread

 From which hangs our tiny life

 How brightly does it shine

 But soon will we be dead.

 Never more never more guileless happiness

 ever more never more unthinking innocence

 

O sweet life, O bright glory, O vivid sense

 Never more never more unthinking innocence

  

(8)

 

 How fragile is the boat

 Of our frail happiness

 How bravely it sails on

 It will not be long afloat

 Never more never more guileless happiness

 Never more never more unthinking innocence

 O sweet life O bright glory O vivid sense

 Never more never more unthinking innocence

  

How sweet is the poet’s song

 That tells us who we are

 But hear its melancholy strain

 We are not here for long

 

(20)

 

 Never more never more guileless happiness

 Never more never more unthinking innocence

 O sweet life O bright glory O vivid sense

 Never more never more unthinking innocence

  

 

 

 

Scene 9.

 

(enter a wizard)

 

 

 

 

 

Wizard’s Song

  

If you think you’d like to see

 The dark things that will come to be

 Stir the pot! Stir the pot!

 A virgin’s tights and adder’s venom

 Cigarette stub of politician

 Into the pot! Into the pot!

 What will happen? What will happen?

 Consult the cauldron! Consult the cauldron!

 

  

If you want to view the features

 Of shadowy uncertain futures

 Stir the pot! Stir the pot!

 A doctor’s sock and blackbird’s feather

 With widow’s urine stirred together

 Into the pot! Into the pot!

 What will happen? What will happen?

 Consult the cauldron! Consult the cauldron!

 

 (16)

 

 If you really want to know

 Which way the winds are going to blow

 Stir the pot! Stir the pot!

 Grocer’s toe nail, hair of wizard

 Wing of bat and scale of lizard

 Into the pot! Into the pot!

 What will happen? What will happen?

 Consult the cauldron! Consult the cauldron!

 

 (24)

 

 My wife and I were walking down Beech Avenue the other day when we saw a man up a tree. What are you doing up there? I said. ‘Twig off’ he said ‘What do you think I’m doing? Having a twigging rave up here?’ Well you certainly look as if you are doing something pretty twigging peculiar, I said. We wizards enjoy an occasional descent into the demotic, the engagement with l’homme au moyen sensuel, a merry josh with the brawny sons of Easter, to show that we too belong to les hommes ordinaires du Clapham omnibus. ‘I’m up here making reparation to the wooden gods for the terrorist outrage’ he said ‘What do you think of these terrorists then, wizard?’ Awful I said,   twigging awful. ‘Why do the wooden gods allow these terrible things?’ he said. Ah, I replied, that is a great mystery. ‘Are the wooden gods displeased?’ he said. Ah, I replied, in an important sense yes but then again in an important sense no. Perhaps we put the wrong frogs’ legs in the cauldron of sacrifice. Perhaps we read the haruspices wrong. ‘What’s the point of a wizard’ he said ‘if you can’t put the right frogs’ legs in the cauldron of sacrifice and you can’t read the birds’ entrails right?’ Ah, I said, that is just the point. Wizards are not themselves the point, they point to the point. A point, my dear

 

 (40)

 

 fellow up a tree, is a place with neither length nor breadth nor dimensions. Only the wooden gods live in a place with neither length nor breadth nor dimensions. Wizards do have dimensions just like you. We too are among les hommes ordinaires du Clapham omnibus. We make mistakes just like you. A point is not a dot on paper, don’t you see, that is only how we do our best to represent it. The point about a point is that there is no such thing. The point of a wizard is to point you towards what is pointless. So there’s no point in getting up trees. The best answer to the terrorists is just to carry on as normal doing one twigging thing after another. Say your daily prayers to the wooden gods. Neither a borrower nor a lender be. Look after your children. Dig your gardens. Worship the wooden gods in the Temple of Wood every Tuesday. Put on cheerful face and say twig twig to those you meet. And may the blessing of the wooden gods be upon you. In nomine sylvestris et arboris. May your leaves be green and your acorns plentiful. Twig twig dear fellow islanders. Twig twig.

 

 (55)

 

  

Scene 10. The Ball.

 

Both wood capitalists and protesters are dancing in fancy dress and ball masks.

 

WC A: Let me guess. You’re Wild Bill Hitchcock? No? Davy Crockett?

  

WC B (taking off mask): You got me figured. And you are Napoleon?

 

 WC A: How did you guess? (taking off mask) Well you were lucky I suppose. Give me marshals who are lucky. What are you doing over here?

 

 WC B: My firm in L.A. wants to invest in wood on Easter Island. Our pine forests in California are running out.

  

WC A; Good. Very good. You’ll have heard that we made record profits?

 

 WC B: Why do you think we’re over here?

 

 WC C (to another masked figure): You’ve come as an environmental protester? Isn’t that rather daring in the circumstances?

 

 (10)

 

  

 

Protester A (taking off mask) You’ve seen through me. I’m protesting against the protesters.

  

WC C: Ah! I see. Very neat. Where are you from?

  

Prot A: London my dear chap. My firm in the City wants me to look into investing in wood over here. Wood is good. Isn’t that your motto?

 

WC C: I guess so. Wood wood wood is good good good. (They start chanting it together. The whole assembly takes it up, all shouting and rhythmically stamping their feet to wailing and sobbing music. The music stops and drinks are brought round while the revellers chat)

 

Lucio (to fellow protester): Who is that girl over there?

 

(20)

 

Protester B: Go over to her and have a guess. Why so interested?

 

 Lucio: Something in the way she moves. (going over to Felicity) Enchante. Madame. Vous etes une grande dame du grand siecle je pense.

 

 

 

Felicity : Ah monsieur ! Quelle intelligence ! Quel œil perspicace du peintre !

  

Lucio : Ah Madame – ou bien meme Madamesoiselle j’hazard – quelle belle est ta voix ! Quel beau cet son resonant des cloches dans le clarte du matin ! Quel chanson douce de rossignol dans les soits tranquils de nuit !

 

 Felicity : Ah Monsieur ! Quelle panache ! Tu es trop gentil. Quel fleur magnifique de chivalrie ancienne. Et toi ? Qui est-ce qui es toi ? Tu es habite en robe de protesteur environmental.

  

(30)

 

 Lucio : Ah Ma’amselle. Je suis pierce. Oui, je suis protesteur. Je proteste contre le monde en nom de ton beaute. Et maintenant. Tu es ?...Tu es ? Madame de Maintenon ?

 

Felicity : Non

Lucio : Tu es Carla Bruni en costume historique, en train direct des grandes dames du grand siecle d’ore de France ?

Felicity : Non

Lucio : Tu es….tu es…la Duchesse de Gourmantes, l’Aphrodite ravissante de la belle epoque celebree dans les reminiscences de Proust ?

Felicity : Non

Lucio : Ah ! Mais cet gateau ! Tu es une reine des gateaux ! Moi aussi, j’aime le gateau. Ah je pense….je pense…Tu es Marie Antoinette.

 

(40)

 

Felicity (taking off mask) : You guessed. I knew that damned cake would give me away.

Lucio (taking off mask. He is thunderstruck): You’re so lovely, you’re so beautiful. I didn’t mean all that stuff. But it’s true. What words can I find? Your voice is like bells in the clarity of the morning. You are the nightingale’s song among the soft silks of the night.

Felicity: I see you have a way with words, mon brave m’sieur. But still stranded in eighteenth century France perhaps?. .

Lucio: A bit flowery I admit. But you see what I mean. What other words are there? It was a compliment.

 Felicity: A compliment. I see. Brave protester, you are a poet I perceive. Dear poet, do you do rhymes and keep regular times? Or is it all perfumed gaseous post-modern stuff?

 

 (50)

 

 Lucio: Ouch! Mostly gaseous post-modern stuff I’m afraid. But I feel most perfumedly rebuked.

  Felicity: Dear poet, it was a compliment.

 Lucio: A compliment! I see.

 Felicity: You’re not a Big Wood man. You’re a protester who’s crashed Big Wood’s party.

 Lucio: Found out. Does it matter? (pause)

 Felicity: No, it doesn’t matter. (pause)

 Lucio: Sweet lady of cake. Beautiful nightingale among the soft silks of the night.

 Felicity: Bell besotted poet. Tingalingaling. Fine flower of ancient chivalry. I think your water needs changing. Brave protester. Brave, brave protester.

 Lucio: Nightingale. Shall we meet again?

 Felicity: Yes yes, we’ll meet again

 Lucio: Tomorrow evening? 10.30? In the park? Under the limes where the nightingales sing?

 

(36)

 

 Felicity: Tomorrow evening, then. 10.30. In the park. Under the limes where the nightingales sing.

 Lucio: I think I’ve found you.

 Felicity: I think I’ve found you too.

 

Chairman: Attention please. It is midnight. Let us give thanks to the wooden gods. (Midnight strikes while all resume their masks.) O eternal and unmoving gods, you who look out so serenely and so constantly over the seas of uncertainty and hazard, we worship you, we adore you, we thank you.

 

 

 

(percussion, harsh and crashing brass, wailing woodwind, all cry out to the gods) O wooden gods, O wooden gods of Easter Island, we adore you, we worship you, we thank you. O wooden gods, never turn to stone. O wooden gods never turn to stone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scene Eleven

 

 

 

(TV rolling news): Newscaster: Reports are coming in from Easter Island saying the environmental crisis is far worse than had been feared even six months ago. Our reporter Martin is on Easter Island and sent us this report. What can you tell us, Martin?

  

Reporter: Hugh, the situation is grave. Climate change scientists say that so many trees have been cut down a critical tipping point has been passed. This year’s harvest has again failed. An order has gone out from the government that all domestic dogs are to be killed in order to conserve food supplies. Drinking water is now restricted to one can per person per day. We spoke to Lucio, a researcher into Easter Island’s climatic problems. What can you tell us, Lucio.

 

 (10)

 

 Lucio: What is now happening is what climate scientists have long predicted. Too many trees have been cut down. Not enough water is being held by the roots and is running off into the sea. Now this has started a positive feedback mechanism is coming into operation. The drier the climate gets the more trees wither and the more trees that wither the drier the climate gets. Then forest fires start. Even more trees are destroyed. That warms the climate and the warmer temperatures lead in turn to even more fires starting. It’s a vicious circle. Rain, we need rain. We need to stop chopping down trees. And we need rain.

  

Reporter: Thank you Lucio. But not everybody is so gloomy. We also spoke to the Chairman of Big Wood who had this to say.

 

 (20)

 

 Chairman: There is no crisis. Everything is under control and the government are taking all necessary measures.

 Reporter: What about the scientists who say that this is happening because Big Wood chopped down too many trees?

 Chairman: Let me make this crystal clear. The problems we have are nothing to do with chopping down trees but with the unprecedented lack of rain.

 Reporter. Some scientists think that too few trees has resulted in too much carbon in the atmosphere. That has warmed average temperatures which have warmed the oceans. That in turn has affected the wind patterns which is why Easter Island is getting no rain.

 Chairman: I could use a very rude word for people who say that sort of thing. But let’s call it balderdash.

   

(30)

 

 Reporter: But you are going to stop chopping down trees?

 Chairman: We most certainly are not. That would be the worst possible thing we could do. We need to generate even more economic surplus so that we can plant new varieties of quick-growing trees and manufacture and install desalinization plants.

 Reporter (to studio): The chairman of Big Wood. Two views on the environmental crisis that is unfolding on Easter Island. Back to the studio, Hugh.

 Newscaster: Thank you, Martin. And now for today’s other news. A thirty-four year old man in Broadstairs Kent is helping police in connection with enquiries into the thefts of hundreds of garden gnomes from the area…

  

(40)

 

  

Scene Twelve.

 

(enter Felicity).

 

The dogs. The poor dogs. O my lovely Bounder. O Bounder! What did you do to deserve this? Oh Bounder. Lovely innocent Bounder. I can’t bear to have you killed today. One more day. I’ll kill you tomorrow. Not today. Tomorrow.

 

  

 

Scene Thirteen

 

 (The Dealing Room as before. The dealers rush in from both sides. They carry their magic mirrors and portable cauldrons and start mixing ingredients in the cauldrons. Blowing bubbles across to the other side and speaking into big shells cradled in their shoulders. Hubbub. Pandemonium.)

 

 

Still down. Big wood still going down. How’s the Nikkei. Down ten. The Dow down fourteen. Too many Californian banks exposed to Big Wood. Big Wood is toxic and getting toxicker. Can I sell you some Big Wood? No? Now is the time to buy.

 

When BW’s shares have hit the bottom. Well we think here that they’ve hit the bottom. the Footsie is rallying. Come on have a go. You’ll make a killing on Big Wood when it

 

recovers if you buy now. No? Can I sell you some Big Wood? A real bargain at the moment…(and so on)

 

  

 

Scene Fourteen

 

(enter from opposite sides Lucio and Felicity. Pause while they gaze silently at each other. They sit together on a park bench. A pause while they dumb show two lovers meeting. Then a long kiss).

 

 Lucio: At last. I thought it would never come.

  Felicity: Yes at last. And it has come.

 Lucio: You’re so beautiful. More beautiful than I’d even imagined.

 Felicity: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say.

 Lucio: Love is blind, they say.

 Felicity: But what do they know about it?

 Lucio: They? They know nothing about it at all.

 Felicity: They!

 Lucio: They! Who are they? Know alls

 Felicity: They know nothing at all (another kiss)

 

 (10)

 

 Lucio: You’re so beautiful.

  Felicity: And you’re so brave. You’ll have to be brave for both of us. I’m not brave at all. I couldn’t bury Bounder. I had to get Shelly to do it.

 Lucio: Of course you are. Of course you’re brave.

 Felicity: OK I’m brave. Blind lover. Beautiful poet’s mind. Not sure about the body though. I’m certainly going to have to be the body beautiful for both of us

 Lucio: Ouch! Is this how it’s going to be? Lots of sharp little wasp stings?

Felicity: I’m afraid so. That’s me I’m afraid.

Lucio: Then sting my heart, beautiful wasp. It’s your sharpness I love. Piercing through the surface of things. Your shield of deflecting irony beneath which the most tender feelings can shelter. Your unchecked flows of affection. You sting me into a kind of fuller life. You sweeten and invigorate the very air. It is always the first day with you. The first day in some blessed garden.

 

 (23)

 

 Felicity: Adam the gardener. And poet too. Wow! What more could a girl want? Don’t forget to do a bit of weeding now and again. And watch out for snakes. I do hope one comes. I love snakes. I’ll give you apples. We’ll be bad together.

  Lucio: Bad bad bad. As long as we’re together. Let’s go away together. Somewhere else.

 Felicity: What do you mean? Where could we go?

 Lucio: Christmas Island. Or some other island that’s paradise compared with this one. My crystal ball tells me there’ll be a break in the weather in a fortnight.

 Felicity: Go away? I don’t know. I don’t know. How can we leave everybody here? They need you. They need your expertise.

 Lucio: Felicity, darling, be realistic. Things are now so bad everybody left here is going to die. It’s everybody for themselves now

 Felicity: Do you really think that? O Lucio, I’m disappointed in you. How could you say that? Anyway there are other things.

 

(40)

 

 Lucio: What other things?

 Felicity: I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t explain.

 Lucio: Felicity, I only meant –

 Felicity: Leave me, don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. (she weeps)

 Lucio: Felicity, it was only a thought. Alright, something else. I’d like you to do something else for me.

 Felicity: What is it? You’re not asking me to be brave I hope.

 Lucio: Yes, a little

 Felicity: OK. Go on. You’re being brave for both of us remember. I’m relying on an injection of bravery from you.

  

(50)

 

 Lucio: My research tells me that bad as it is obviously is, our situation is far worse than even now most people realise. We are on the brink of catastrophe. I’m sorry I talked about going away. Let’s try another way. Will you go to your father? Only Big Wood has the funds to dig the emergency trenches that we need to prevent any more water run off if and when the rain does come.

 Felicity: You sting me in my turn. I love him but on this subject he’s irrationaI. I’m frightened of his anger.

 Lucio: Think of what could happen. People are so blind that even now they can’t see what’s going to happen. Think of the starvation that will ensue. Think of all the people who will starve. The animals that will die. Domestic dogs have already gone. Soon it will be the wild creatures. Think of all the dead animals. Think of the flies so bloated on the corpses that they can no longer fly. Think of the bleached bones everywhere on this once lovely island.

  

(63)

 

 Felicity: I can’t bear it. O the poor, poor people. And the animals poor innocents. The voles with nothing to eat because the vegetation has withered. The owls with nothing to eat because there are no voles. Butterflies not flying. Bees not buzzing. No fruit. No wasps. People starving. The whole tissue of things ripped apart from top to bottom.

 Lucio: And even worse –

 Felicity: No more, no more. OK I’ll do it. However angry he gets I’ll do it.

 Lucio: Well done. I told you you were brave. (exeunt)

  

 

 

Scene Fifteen

 

 Enter Chairman and C

 

 Chairman: You’re sure no-one followed you?

 C: Yes, sure. I sit on park benches pretending to peer from under newspapers like spies do in TV dramas. It’s the perfect cover. Everyone knows it’s just what real spies don’t do.

 Chairman: Good. Clever. Well done with the bomb. Regrettable. But effective.

 C: Do you know your daughter has taken up with Lucio?

 Chairman: What! With Lucio? But he’s the protesters’ tame scientist. With Lucio! You’re sure about this?

 C: I’m afraid so.

 Chairman: Lucio! Well we’ll put a stop to it. Of all people! I’ll find a way

 C: I have no doubt that your methods will be effective. What do you want me to do now?

 Chairman: Keep a close eye on my daughter. Find out how they intend to deal with the food crisis. And report back to me in a week. Can you do that?

 C: Yes, I can do that

 (exeunt)

 

  

 

Scene Sixteen.

 

(enter Shelly and Felicity)

 

 Felicity: Oh Shell, what am I to do?

 Shelly: If it was me I’d run off with Lucio. No problem.

 Fel: But how can I? How can I leave Daddy?

 Sh: I would. He’ll survive. He’s rich enough. And smart enough.

 Fel: That’s just what he isn’t. He’s got this all wrong. He needs me to support him. And to explain to him.

 Sh: He won’t listen. You know that.

 Fel: I have to try.

 Sh: You know how hard and intransigent he is. As all this gets worse he’ll get even more entrenched so even you will have to give up. So you might as well do it now. O Felice. If only I could run off with somebody.

  

(12)

 

 Fel: I have to try

 

(enter Chairman)

 

 Chairman: Ah Felicity. And Shelly. I didn’t expect to find you here. Be a pet Shelly and leave Felicity and myself alone for a few minutes will you.

 Sh: I was just going anyway. I have to collect my precious can of water. Goodbye. I’ll see you Felicity (exit)

 Ch: I just wanted to see you, Felicity, and make sure you are surviving in these difficult times.

 Felicity: I wanted to see you too. It’s about the environmental crisis. It’s an idea for stopping the trees burning that somebody suggested to me.

 Ch: Another time. I don’t want to talk about that now. I want to talk about you. Is everything OK?

 

(22)

 

 Fel: Yes everything’s OK

Ch: What have you been doing?

Fel: Oh the usual things one does in an environmental crisis. You know. This and that.

 Ch: Any new boy friends?

 Fel: Well no that is maybe. Well sort of. Perhaps.

 Ch: You’re seeing Lucio aren’t you?

 Fel: How do you know that?

 Ch: Never mind how I know it. I know it. Felicity, I’m asking you to stop seeing him.

 Fel: You’ve no right to ask me that.

 Ch: I’m your father. And I’m asking you. Will you stop seeing Lucio? He is engaged to marry somebody else. Did you know that?

  

(30)

 

 Fel: I don’t believe you

 Ch: I’m afraid it’s true. Once again, will you stop seeing Lucio?

 Fel: I can’t. No. I won’t. I can’t. This isn’t the nineteen fifties. You’ve no right.

 Ch: Alright, I’m telling you, I’m telling you to stop seeing Lucio

 Fel: And I’m telling you I won’t stop seeing Lucio.

 Ch: Then I’ll have to find other ways.

 Fel: What do you mean? Other ways?

 Ch: Do you want me to have to resort to drastic measures?

 Fel: And do you want me to have to resort to drastic measures? (bursts into tears. He tries to comfort her) Don’t touch me. Leave me alone. I can’t bear you near me. Don’t touch me. Leave me alone.

 Ch: Very well. We will speak again. (exit)

 

 (40)

 

 Fel: What am I to do? Oh the real world! Oh the dilemmas of the real world! Oh Lucio how you have broken my heart. How can you even think of deserting the island when more than ever it needs your expertise? But how can I give you up? This cannot be the end. Lucio, do I still love you? Yes I do. Surely you will stay. I must persuade him to stay and stick it out. And Daddy how I love you too. Shelly doesn’t understand. The more obstinate and pig-headed he gets the more I want to put my arms round him and tell him there is a better way. I must persuade him too, because I know that I, only I, know the secret path into his heart. If only I didn’t love these people. Not to feel! Not to love! O blessed state. Lucio, go off to Christmas Island and don’t come back. Daddy, keep on chopping down more trees until there’s not a single one left. Who cares? If only I could say that. But I can’t. Can I persuade Lucio to stay? Can I persuade Daddy to use Big Wood’s money to dig the trenches? O the ambiguity of life. O the heavy burden. But I must try. (exit)

 

  

Scene Seventeen.

 

Enter Chairman

 

 Ch: How I hated doing that. How I loathe telling her to abandon what her heart is set on. Oh how I hate hurting her. Oh the dilemmas of the real world. How I hate so much of what I have to do.

 (sings)

 

 The real world, the real world

 How I’d love not to live in the real world

 But on some paradise island

 Where everyone would be sister and brother

 And lovers would love and trust each other

 On some paradise island

 

 (10)

 

 The ambiguity of the real world

 How I’d love not to live in the real world

 But on some paradise island

 No need to confuse with black propaganda

 Or threaten shivering wretches with torture

 On some paradise island

 

 O the awful dilemmas of the real world

 How I hate what I do in the real world

 Doing evil things that good might survive

 When lies are truth and truth is lies

  

(20)

 

 O to escape and run off in disguise

 To some paradise island

 Some paradise island

 Some paradise island.

 

 

  

Scene Eighteen

 

 

(enter Felicity And Lucio)

 

Felicity: Oh Lucio. At last. How I’ve missed you in this great yawning gap of time

 Lucio: It’s only been a fortnight

 Fel: To me geological ages

 Luc: And to me

 Fel: Well?

 Lucio: I’m not going. You were right. And how could I go without you?

 Fel: I’m so so glad. So so glad. Dear poet

 Luc: Beautiful nightingale

 Fel: One other thing? Are you engaged to somebody else?

 

(10)

 

 Luc: No, I broke it off. How could I marry someone else when I loved you so much?

 Fel: The poor girl. I’m so sorry. But so glad. O the ambiguities of things

 

(Enter chairman/father)

 

 Father: Ah! You’re here. I’ve caught you at it. Get your hands off my daughter you terrorist and go.

 Felicity: Father! Daddy! He only –

 Father: Quiet you foolish girl. Go sir, go. Get out.

 Lucio: No. I love your daughter. I stand my ground.

 Felicity: Daddy! The island. There are bigger things than me and Lucio. The island –

 Father: You little fool. Can’t you see how he’s bewitched you? The island is perfectly alright.

 Felicity: But his research –

 

 (20)

  

Father (exploding): His research! So that’s what you call it. You liar! You charlatan! You pseudo-scientist! Get out. I’ll kill you if I have to. Get out. I give you till I count five. (he takes out a revolver) You interloper. You devious snake. You evil magician. Deceiver! Terrorist!

 Felicity: But Daddy –

 Father: Don’t daddy me, you’ve betrayed me. Get out both of you before I fire, you slag, you whore. One, two, three-

 (They flee. He sinks to the ground with his head between his hands. Pause)

 

Father: What have I said? How can I have said those things?

 

(30)

 

 (sings)

 

 They think that I’m a monster

 But I have feelings too

 O my daughter! O my daughter!

 I only want what’s best for her

 O my daughter! O my daughter!

 

 They think that I’m a monster But I’m human just like you

  my daughter! O my daughter!

 Her absence presses on my mind

 The world has gone so cold

 She floods my heart with tears

 I have driven her away

 O my daughter! O my daughter!

  

They think that I’m a monster

 But I have lost my precious jewel

 O my daughter! O my daughter!

 Felicity! Felicity! Come back to me

 I cannot bear this hell

 I am so sorry. I am so sorry

 Felicity! Felicity! Come back to me.

 

  

 

Scene Nineteen. The Protesters’ camp.

 

Enter the Protesters together with Felicity.

  

Prot A. Felicity welcome. We’re glad you’ve seen the light

 Felicity: Well it’s more complicated than that.

 Prot B: Whatever the reason, you’re most welcome

 Prot D. We do have some food still growing in our gardens thanks to Lucio’s genius. Not much. But some. Are we all agreed that we share whatever we have got?

 All: Of course. That goes without saying. We’d be glad to do that. We are brother environmentalists after all. Of course we’ll share what we have.

 Protester C: Good. We’re agreed. Everybody agrees to bring whatever they have to the camp tomorrow evening and we’ll share it out equally. Agreed?

 All: Agreed

 

 (10)

 

 Protester A: Everybody promise?

 All: We promise.

 Protester A: There’s one more thing. We need help now things have got so bad. We helped Christmas Island when they were in their time of trouble. Now it’s their turn to help us. We need an ambassador. I didn’t tell you this. But I’ve hoarded up just enough fuel for one boat to make it to Christmas Island while the lull in the storms lasts. Any volunteers? Or rather volunteer?

 (nobody volunteers). OK we’ll draw for it. (he produces straws). Not you Felicity. But everybody else take one (the short straw falls to Lucio). It’s you Luce.

 Felicity: Lucio, we’ll go together. Don’t go. I’ve lost my father. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you too.

 

(20)

  

Lucio: Dearest, I must. I’ll be safe. I’ll think of you all the time. That will bring me back safe.

Protester A: Good luck Lucio. Everybody else here then tomorrow evening. (they exit leaving only Lucio and Felicity on the stage.)

Felicity: Lucio, I don’t mind if we can go together.

Lucio: Dearest, I’m afraid we can’t. There’s only room and food in the boat for one

 Felicity: Don’t go. We shall never see each other again. I’ve lost my father. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you too.

  

(30)

 

 Lucio: Dearest I must. I’ll come back again. I’ll hold you in my arms again. I’ll be safe. I’ll think of you all the time. That will bring me back safe. Yu must see. I must go for all our sakes

 

 Felicity: Yes I see that. But I shall never see you again.

 

 Lucio: Of course I shall see you again. Farewell sweet wasp. I must go before the weather changes. Be brave. Think of me. Think of me.

 

 Felicity: Goodbye brave poet. Be safe (exit Lucio) Goodbye. Goodbye. (exits)

 

 

  

 

Scene Twenty

 

(Enter Chairman and two Big Wood men}

 

Chairman: My spies tell me that the environmentalists have got some food and are planning to pool it at their camp tomorrow night. I want you to ambush them and take it off them.

  Big Wooder A: Is that ethical?

 Chairman: Ethical? Ethics is a long way down the list in these times I’m afraid. Survival is the only game in town now, at whatever cost.

 Big Wooder B: You’re right. This is not the moment for sentimentality. We’ll do it. Tonight. We’ll do it.

 Big Wooder A: We’ll do it  (exeunt)

  

Scene Twenty One

 

(Enter Protester A): Of course I had to appear to agree to share everything at the meeting yesterday. But was that right? I have a wife and family. Surely my first duty is to them. I won’t go tomorrow. I’ll send a message to say I’m ill. (exit)

 (enter Protester B): Of course I had to say that I was in agreement to share at the meeting last night, what else could I do in the circumstances? But what good is it going to do? All it will mean is that we will all die just that bit more slowly. Whereas if those of us who have got a bit put by hang on to it, some of us might survive. I mean it was a nice idea. But get real brothers. I won’t go tomorrow night. I’ll send a message to say that I’m ill. (exit)

  

(10)

 

 (enter Protester D): Of course it wasn’t practical to disagree at the meeting last night. But in my mind it was just a provisional agreement. I needed time to think because I’m still really confused about all this. Don’t I have an ultimate duty to my genes and all those unborn descendants who won’t get born if I don’t take every step possible to preserve my genome? I’d love to share everything of course. But the bottom line is that we are biological beings and my biological duty forbids me. Sorry about that. But we should follow the path of duty whatever the cost. Whatever the emotional discomfort. Whatever temptation assails us to weaken. I won’t go tomorrow. I’ll send a message to say I’m ill. (exit)

 

 (20)

 

 (enter Protester C): Of course it was politic to appear to agree at the meeting last night. You never know when you can’t get some fool backscratcher to give your back a scratch before you run like hell while he turns his. Reciprocal altruism is what it’s about. But reciprocal altruism breaks down when your fellow altruist has got nothing to reciprocate with. It’s the law of nature I’m afraid. Share with everybody else in this extremity? You must be joking. Face up to it. Everybody for himself, women and children pushed off the raft first. I won’t go to the meeting tomorrow night. I’ll send a message. Tighten your belts and dream on, naïve fools. (exit)

 

 (28)

 

(Enter Felicity. She stoops to pick up something from the floor). Poor bumble bee. Poor dead bombus. How lovely you were in life. No more to reach into the flowers with your delicate tongue and suck their sweetness. Poor lady bombus. Not any more to go on your dutiful rounds each day. To buzz busily from dawn to dusk through happy sunlit hours. Let me bury you beneath the dead flowers you once visited. There, poor bee. Is there any hope? O come back soon, soon Lucio. We shall survive as long as we ‘re together. How the hours crawl while you are away. Any gleam of light? Yes, there is one. We all agreed last night to share what little we have. If I shoulder your burden and you shoulder mine each carries a lighter weight, for each burden is lightened by love. We can get through this together, as long as we stay together. I’ll take absolutely everything to the meeting tonight. I know that is what Lucio would want. (exit)

 

  

 

Scene Twenty Two

 

(enter Wizard)

 

 Wizard: My wife and I were out for a walk the other day when we came across a man starving to death in a park. Hello old fellow, I said. Bear up old chap. How are you feeling? Twigging awful, he said. Why are the wooden gods allowing all these twigging awful things to happen he said. Ah, that is a great mystery, I replied. Are the twigging gods responsible for all this then? he said. In an important sense yes but then again in an

 important sense no, I replied In that case you can just twig off, wizard, he said. Steady on old chap, keep your hair on (though most of it had fallen out actually I do have to say) I know how you feel. I too am an homme ordinaire du Clapham omnibus. It’s alright for you Reverend, you’re eating he said. Ah, I said, I appreciate your point, but we wizards

 

 (12)

 

 have great responsibilities you see. We have got to make sure that the right frogs’ legs are put in the cauldron of sacrifice and to make sure that the birds’ entrails are read aright, so that the wooden gods might deliver us from this predicament. Be cheerful I said. The wooden gods like a cheerful worshipper. Carry on as normal. Neither a borrower nor a lender be. If you have no food lay the table and clink your knives and forks on your plates just as if you had. Pretend to dig your gardens even if the soil is so hard you can’t get the spade in. Greet the neighbours with a bright twig twig in the morning. Say your daily prayers to the wooden gods. Worship the wooden gods in the Temple of Wood every Tuesday. And may the blessing of the wooden gods be upon you. In nomine sylvestris et arboris. May your leaves be green and your acorns plentiful. Twig twig dear fellow islanders. Twig twig.

 

 

 

Scene Twenty Three.

 

(enter Chairman and the two Big Wooders)

 

Chairman: Did you get it?

Big Wooder A: There was hardly anything there. Just a girl with potatoes and lentils in a bag. We took them. Poor cow. She’ll starve. She must have been somebody’s daughter.

 Chairman: So long as she wasn’t mine. But she’s with Lucio. I hope that charlatan is looking after her. Take what you’ve come back with to our store.

  

Scene Twenty Four

 

 (Enter chorus in Easter Island masks)

 

 

 

Hear us O wooden gods Hear us in our need O wooden gods (drums, harsh brass, wailing woodwind)

 

Listen! Listen! (there is silence. They listen intently, cocking their heads to one side then the other)

 

 

 

Hear us O wooden gods . Hear us in our need O wooden gods. Speak to us. Speak to us. (music as before. Then silence and the listening as before)

 

 Where are the gods? Where are the gods? (music and then silence and listening as before)

 

 The gods have deserted us! The gods have deserted us! The wooden gods have turned to stone The wooden gods have turned to stone (A cacophony of the loudest possible noise – thundersheets etc)

 

 We curse you O gods! We curse you! (the cacophony reaches a crescendo and then dies away. They depart with their heads in their hands)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scene Twenty Five.

 

 (Enter Chairman and Lucio from opposite sides of stage)

 

 Chairman: It’s you. You let her down. You deserted her.

 Lucio: I had to go on an urgent mission to Christmas Island. But no help from there I’m afraid. How is she? Do you know?

 Chairman: Dead. She died only two hours ago. Some bastard took all her food. I was with her.

 Lucio: Dead? Dead? Where is she?

 Chairman: In my house. We found her starving on the road. I had her brought to my house. Where she should always have been. (exit Lucio, as he departs shouting after him) You failed her. It wasn’t me took her food. It wasn’t me. She forgave me. (then to audience) In what devious ways does truth unravel deviousness. She was right and I was

  

(10)

 

 wrong. We thought too much about money and not enough about love There is no such thing as the real world. There is only the world. It was her tenderness and love, her truth and her loyalty that made it real. It was we who falsified it In doing evil that good might survive we destroyed the good by the evil that we did. If we had only loved the world and all the living creatures in it as she did all would have come out well. Her unchecked flows of affection. Her tender love for all earth’s creatures.. That is what made the world real. But we murdered the earth for money. Now it is too late. The island is doomed. My heart is broken. I shall give away what food I have to the starving people, because that is what she would have wanted. And then I shall go among the burning trees. (exit)

 

  

 

Scene Twenty Five

 

(enter Lucio with the dead Felicity in his arms)

 

 Lucio: Only two hours ago!. Oh Oh Oh. Your spirit gone. And now only this empty envelope in my arms. Yet even in death how you sting my heart into an acuter life. Farewell dear wasp. Piercing through the surfaces of things. Sweet lady of cake. Beautiful nightingale singing among the soft silks of the night. Your shield of irony beneath which the tenderest feelings could shelter. Your unchecked flows of affection. Your dearest love for all the creatures of the earth. It was always the first day. Goodbye most felicitous Felicity. Goodbye. Goodbye

 

 (8)

 

 (He sings softly)

 

 Isn’t life good good good

 Life on Easter Island

 Aaaach! Aaaach! Aaaach!

 Because we’ve wood wood wood

 On Easter Island

 Aaaach! Aaaaach! Aaaach!

 On Easter Island

 Aaaaach! Aaaaach! Aaaaach!

 

 (The TV studio. In midstage we see a film crew filming the man and dead woman)

 

 (20)

 

 Newscaster: Viewers are warned that our report from Easter Island contains material that some viewers may find distressing and flash photography. What can you tell us, Martin?

 Reporter: Well Hugh the tragedy here is rapidly unfolding. There are now very few animals left on the island and more and more people are dying from starvation every day. This island that was once so abundantly covered in trees is now as you can see a moonscape. Scientists say that this has been coming for a hundred years, because for all that time the islanders have been cutting down trees in the name of the wooden gods. But nobody listened. We came across a young man cradling his dead wife in his arms. (They wheel the camera to just over Lucio and the dead Felicity and start intrusively and

  

(30)

 

 pruriently filming the scene. To Lucio): Have you any message for the viewers back home? (Lucio moans and mumbles ‘wood’). He is saying that he thinks the basic problem was a shortage of wood. Well good luck young man. Continuing storms and hurricanes have closed the airport on the island and are preventing emergency aid getting through. Druids on the island are desperately searching birds’ entrails for signs of an end to the drought that is devastating this community. The last horse was ritually sacrificed yesterday but the island’s stone gods remain impassive. World leaders have expressed their concern and the Pope has asked for prayers as has the Archbishop of Canterbury. Back to you in the studio Hugh.

  Newscaster: Thank you Martin. And now for the day’s other news. Some councils in England and Wales are going to start charging for wheely bin collections…

 

 

 

Lights fade. .