CAST OF CHARACTERS
DOLLY, the FASHION PLATE (La Bragarde)
JEZEBEL, the STRUMPET (La Gorrière)
TARTUFFIE, the HYPOCRITE (La Bigotte)
MS. THEOLOGINA, the LADY THEOLOGIAN (La Théologienne)
PRODUCTION NOTES
The Farce nouvelle excellentement bonne de quatre femmes is one of the longer farces at 632 verses (although that’s nothing compared to the Pathelin’s approximately 1,500). In addition to the typical rhyming octosyllabic couplets, it boasts the complex musical versification of a rondeau or motet.1 Edited by Cohen (RC, #46, 369–78) and by Koopmans (RFlorence, 647–62), it appears in the Recueil Cohen only. I’m aware of no translation into French, English, or any other vernacular, whence more endnotes than usual; and only Koopmans summarized it (RFlorence, 647). He also surmises that our farce was written sometime after 1496, basing that assertion on historical allusions to the plague in Naples (v. 499) and to the military campaigns in Italy under Francis I (RFlorence, 661). Be on the lookout too for a number of intertextual echoes with Blind Man’s Buff (RC, #45; FF, #6), which immediately precedes Drama Queens (for short throughout) and which almost reads as if an audience has just seen it. Alternate titles: Confession Transgressions or True Concessions.
Plot
Confessions of a Medieval Drama Queen is what you might call an immorality play. The content of the plot is the content of its characters, women one and all, which is a farcical rarity shared by only two other farces that I know of: Immaculate Deception (#12) and Les Malcontentes (RLV, #61). Three married sinners are awaiting the arrival of Madame Theologina (ma dame la Theologienne [v. 117]) when, true to morality-play form, they introduce themselves at length. There’s Dolly, the primping Fashion Plate (La Bragarde); Jezebel, the preening Strumpet (La Gorrière); and Tartuffie, the dissimulating Hypocrite (La Bigotte). Let’s just say that, between the three of them, they’ve got those seven deadly sins covered: gluttony, lust, avarice, pride, envy, wrath, and sloth. “Ensconcement” in heresy comes up as well, which could be punishable by death during the Reformation. So, it’s a very good thing—or is it?—when Theologina shows up with a load of papal bulls that empower her to hear women’s confessions (des busles un grant tas [v. 171]). In a lopsided sequence that mirrors the women’s self-presentations, Theologina does just that. Dolly’s confession spans 160 lines of dialogue (vv. 268–428), Jezebel’s 120 verses (vv. 429–549), and a rushed Tartuffie’s barely 50 (vv. 550–601).
Among many things, we learn why women might want to avoid the confessional in the first place. Male confessors are described repeatedly as dirty, gossipy, lecherous, and illiterate (qui ne sçavent ne a ne boys [vv. 154–55, 445–47]), a reproach historically associated with attendees of Passion plays (Sainte-Beuve, Tableau historique, 193; above, “Introd.”). There’s even a special term for their particular brand of “ass-holiness”: they are ânes fagotés. It sounds like a “fagot of asses,” but it actually refers to powerful cardinals who had been elevated way above their station and who, like Theologina, have recently returned from Rome (RFlorence, 652n). And don’t forget the comedic genre, the ânerie, or those other donkeys, the Conards of Rouen.2 Plus, if you think the notion of a papal seat crawling with asses is sacrilegious, just wait till you hear Jezebel’s shocking line about casting theological pearls before religious swine: “the Pope was wrong” (Certes le pape a eu tort at v. 204). That farcically fallible Pope might even be a send-up of the days of a shadow-Pope in Avignon (1309–77).
Bottom line: whatever the theological issue, Drama Queens brings things to a head. Or lower. “Wily women work in mysterious ways”—Engins de femme sont moult rusez / Ilz besongnent d’art subtille (vv. 88–89)—and the Devil is in the details of the bull. It is formally and ceremoniously read aloud (vv. 220–35) as in The Edict of Noée (FF, #2), The Washtub (FCMF, 144–48), and the Miracle of Théophile (MFP, 191–92); but with what powers does it truly vest our Mother Confessor? As we shall see, Theologina turns out to be the original originalist, a subscriber to the plain-meaning rule. Nothing is a done deal in these “Theologina dialogues.”
Characters and Character Development
When the triumvirate—triumfeminate?—takes to the stage, is it the usual men in drag? Or is Drama Queens genuinely for women only? Probably not, given the play’s closing lines about its student performers (below, note 55). But that can be changed up today, especially since the earliest-known contract issued to a French comic actress dates back to 1545, the heyday of farce (Scott, Women on the Stage, 59–62; above, “ABT,” note 5). Starting with what the three allegorical figures of Dolly, Jezebel, and Tartuffie have in common: all three are living caricatures of their most pronounced sins; all three exalt outward appearances that camouflage what lies beneath, the perfect metaphor for the letter and spirit of this farce’s literary law. All three profess great admiration for book learning, even if their wisdom (sapientia) and experience (scientia) leave something to be desired (vv. 128–30).3 And all three will do whatever it takes to get ahead, “as need be.” Their favorite term is besogner, which implies “need,” “sex,” “work,” and, for Jezzie, what we now call “sex work.” That said, each everywoman has her own distinctive style which, for Dolly and Jezzie, is the literal style of fashion sense. Inasmuch as the play alternates between octosyllables, heptameter, pentameter, and the odd douzain, I’ve retained that flavor in their introductory speeches by assigning elegant pentameter to Dolly, quicker and dirtier octosyllables to Jezebel, and Molièresque alexandrines to odd woman out Tartuffie.
Dolly, La Bragarde, is all about the clothes; and she is constantly applying braguer (“to be all dolled up”) to the haves, the have-nots, and the fashion wannabes. To braguer is to show off ostentatiously or, Madonna-like, to “vogue.” Her excess is in the dress. I also hear punning on braguette, that is: the codpiece that could clarify what’s really going on under those ensembles. Dolly might be cast as a stunning blue-eyed blonde who, rather like the first wife of the Fifteen Joys of Marriage (8–15), bats her eyes and plays it up for anyone liable to get her into the latest couture. In contrast to Jezebel’s intermittent vulgarity, Dolly is high style and at pains to distinguish her brague from her frenemy’s gorre (here, “taste”).
Next, meet a Gorrière who is up for anything and whose moniker translates loosely—is there any other way?—as “hussy,” “floozy,” or “strumpet.” I’ve gone with “Jezebel” for the lusty, gutsy character. With a taste for sex, Jezzie talks salt and spice and military nice (or, pugilistically, not so nice). Instead of voguing, she adopts combative poses to illustrate the multiple mottos and aphorisms she spouts. All made up and into glam, dissolution, and debauchery, she’s a sweet painted lady, a voluptuous Miss Piggy with lipstick. (Gorre denoted both “makeup” and “sow.”) And there’s something toxic about her too, if not as toxic as the perilous kingdom of Gorre in Chretien’s Knight of the Cart. La grand’ gorre meant not only “high style” but “syphilis” (RC, 378n). To borrow the plague-inspired lyric from Pippin, Jezzie’s veneration of all things venereal has led to other matters venereal as she “spreads a little sunshine” transnationally.4 She needs globs and globs of concealer for a poor complexion marred by pocks and pimples. And yet, she is as happy and gay as a drag queen (frisque; dehet [vv. 19; 41]). Put her in a T-shirt, if you wish, visible under all her finery, that reads “Confession or Bust.” Finally, while Jezzie intimates, Con-Man-like (#1), that she is ignorant, uneducated, and unfamiliar with what to do at confession (not having been in four years [vv. 440–41]), that’s likely just an act. She’s perfectly capable of rattling off legalese (vv. 218–19) when it comes to absolution.
For her own part, La Bigotte’s spectacle of false devotion moves me to christen her “Tartuffie” in honor of Molière’s storied character, but with a hint of the flamboyant piety of Arsinoé from The Misanthrope. Look closely under the veneer of her bigoterie or bigotage, and you’ll see that something else entirely is brewing. Sanctimonious, holier-than-thou Tartuffie is a fausse dévote, a hypocrite; and that’s working for her because churchgoers eat her right up. In light of her reference to “the flower of her youth” (vv. 541–42), she might be somewhat older than the other ladies and not as well-dressed. As the song goes, “she’d change her sad rags into glad rags if she could.”
Now, enter one of the most intriguing characters of the repertoire: “Madame la Théologienne,” the “Lady Theologian” whom I’ve dubbed “Theologina” (rhymes with “vagina”). La Théologienne has hightailed it from Rome with a momentous papal dispensation; and her journey was arduous, albeit difficult to understand. The muddled language seems to imply that she mounted a pack mule; but it’s hard to tell which pairs of legs have given out (esp. vv. 189–203; below, note 24). If anything, her description conjures Chrétien’s Lancelot again, whose horses kept dropping dead beneath his thighs in his frenetic quest to rescue the kidnapped Queen Guinevere. During Theologina’s trip, something has been left for dead, never to rise again, and it’s probably the horse. Either that, or she is riding, à la Monty Python and the Holy Grail, no horse at all while a squire runs alongside making clopping noises. Once on the scene, Theologina doesn’t hesitate to make her expertise known. She is well-read in civil and canon law (legiste, decretiste [v. 145]), endowed with a fine logical and theological mind, and she interprets with the best of them (en tous livres elle glose [v. 141]). Perhaps that’s why she manifests a particular dislike for Tartuffie, which is reflected in an aggressive change of linguistic register. Then again, her polite vous occasionally obfuscates which penitent (or penitents) she is addressing.
One last thing, and it’s a horse of a different color or, rather, an ass. Between the ânes fagotés and Theologina’s pack mule, you could consider staging a male animal (with the donkey’s notoriously pronounced manhood). There was another farcical donkey, after all, in The Jackass Conjecture (HD, 160), stalling at the “bridge of asses.” It’s not a bridge too far.
Language
Religion, medicine, toiletries, and Platonic cosmetics (as in Gorgias, secs. 464–65): all come together in the homonymy of saints (saints), breasts (seins), and belts (sainture, ceint). Other metaphorical registers include gaming (card playing and bowling), impersonation-related metacommentary, and assorted emphases on the sexual prefix con, which would permit hearing “cunt” or “asshole” before the other syllables of such terms as contrepoint (“musical counterpoint”), contrefaire (“to imitate”), controuver (“to fabricate” or “to find the right hole?”), or contrepeter, which sounds like counter-farting but which means imitation, parody, or payment in kind (RFlorence, 649n). Especially noteworthy is the play’s veritable reading list, which, while not as extensive as the syllabi of Un Vendeur de livres (RLV, #15, forthcoming as Chick Lit) and Folconduit (TFR, 284–87), features the Vulgate (v. 137), Le Compost (an analogue of the Farmer’s Almanack [RC, 378n]), Guillaume de Machaut’s fourteenth-century Remède de Fortune, and … is that Ovid’s Metamorphoses? Not quite. Dolly cites the Virgille methamofosé (v. 139), which, for all we know, might be a reference to the seven-thousand-verse, fourteenth-century Ovide moralisé, a highly influential medieval adaptation and commentary. And speaking of Virgil, the women are up on their folklore too, recounting how Virgil was hung out to dry in a basket by a woman who chose to punish him spectacularly for his amorous advances (vv. 90–91) (Figure 2). Furthermore, between Jezzie’s militaristic register and the town of Bagnolet, I see a fashionable tip of the hat to the famous satirical monologue, the Franc Archier de Bagnolet (v. 334). Among its subjects: the telltale cowardice of the soldiers of Charles VI, linked here to the women’s frequent denunciations of lily-livered, chicken-shit men.
Figure 2. Virgil dangling in a basket, by Lucas van Leyden (Virgilius in de mand). Woodcut, Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum Amsterdam. Inventory number RP-P-OB-1811. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Lucas_van_Leyden_051.jpg.
Two more linguistic issues now claim our attention, the first a four-word aphorism whose embrace of free will, good works, and intentionality is challenging to capture: Voulenté repute le fait (v. 332). The expression was glossed by the near-contemporaneous legal rhetorician Antoine Loisel in his Institutes coutumières (1607); but it can be traced as far back as Saint Bernard. Basically, it means that good will is fine, but, if actions are to “speak louder than words,” they must be performed voluntarily and not under duress. If uttered sarcastically, it could resonate as “Do as I say, not as you do.” But the real kicker is one of Theologina’s most crucial but ambiguous lines. When chastising Tartuffie, she says “Si voz faitz ne sont amendables, / Tout droit yrés à damnation” (vv. 582–83). As student readers of Ronsard’s carpe diem sonnet “Quand vous serez bien vieille” have discovered, si does not necessarily translate as “if.”5 In fifteenth- and sixteenth-century philology, it could signal the very opposite of equivocation as the “si” of ainsi: the “thus” or “therefore” of indubitable logical consequence. In a way, the entire legalistic reading of Theologina’s bull depends on the correct reading of this line, which I won’t spoil here (below, note 53).
Sets and Staging
Specific Parisian locales abound as nearby Bagnolet and Saint-Maur-des-Fossés give way to the heart of the City of Lights, artsy Montmartre, and various districts of ill repute: the Bois de Boulogne (male prostitution), Brières (amorous assignations), Saint-Germain-des-Prés (debauchery), and the Church of Saint Merri, the notorious site of the anti-Semitic Mistere de la Sainte Hostie (15th c.), which features a Dolly-esque “Evil Woman.”6 And yet, for all that site specificity, there’s something timeless and “placeless”—very moralité-like—about our farce. Unfortunately, since Koopmans did not reproduce its two woodcuts, it is impossible to assess them for iconographic guidance; but, per his description, one depicts two knights on their knees and, the other, a man sounding a horn as a woman and a king leave a chateau. In all likelihood, the three confessions take place in the open air, conceivably against the backdrop of a raucous pilgrimage junket, about which the trio tenders copious details. Per Dolly’s request they also perform a motet (v. 39); so, I suggest a musical number. It won’t be quite the girl band of Biddy and the Pilgrimettes from Holy Deadlock (HD, 221–25), but, by all means, have them sing and dance. And, as Bert States would have advised in Great Reckonings (197–206), don’t neglect the curtain call where, à la Victor/Victoria, all can be revealed. Or not. Is one or more of the players a man in costume? A victor/victorious? While it would be a shame to invite a man into an all-female cast, some of Theologina’s shortcomings might be addressed by her sex.
Costumes and Props
For wordplay, it’s helpful to have an oboe, a trumpet (from the woodcut), and a picnic basket onstage; but, otherwise, it’s all about costuming. For Dolly, try a huge gold belt à la Cleopatra; for Jezebel, make it overdone garb, hair, makeup, and jewelry, and, because she’s partial to the hard stuff, give her a flask or a bottle of liquor. For Tartuffie, who is clad in an ample cape that looks like a nun’s habit, have her hands full of religious paraphernalia: rosaries, Bibles, and so on. And for Theologina, who might sport an elegant man-tailored black suit and priestly white collar, I recommend a pair of glasses. Her look is expressly clerical as she wields the surplice and stole stipulated by an original stage direction: prent ung surplis et l’estolle (RC, after v. 242; RFlorence, 652). Theologina also needs some wine and a comestible that, while resembling a communion wafer (as it did in #3, Highway Robbery), is really a bite-sized cookie, cracker, or breadcrust. Her key prop, of course, is that papal bull, a huge scroll, weighted down by dozens of hanging seals.
Scholarly References to Copyrighted Materials (in order of appearance and indicated by © within the text)
· “C’est Moi.” By Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe. Music Theatre International. https://www.mtishows.com/camelot.
· “I’ll Get You.” By John Lennon and Paul McCartney.7
· “Gotta Dance.” By Hugh Martin. ASCAP Work ID: 370048707.
· “Sweet Painted Lady.” By Elton John and Bernie Taupin. BMI Work #1440132.
· “Love Is a Battlefield.” By Mike Chapman, Randall Hargove, and Holly Knight. ASCAP Work ID: 882360621.
· “Rag Doll.” By Holly Knight, Joe Perry, Steven Tallarico, and James Vallance. ASCAP Work ID: 480200315.
· “Spread a Little Sunshine.” By Stephen Schwartz and Roger Hirson. Music Theatre International. https://www.mtishows.com/pippin.
· “Just One Look.” By Gregory Carroll and Doris Payne. BMI Work #788840.
· “Vogue.” By Madonna [Ciccone] and Shep Pettibone. ASCAP Work ID: 520105119.
· “I’m Called Little Buttercup.” By William Schwenk Gilbert, Nicholas Cameron Patrick, and Sir Arthur Seymour Sullivan. From H.M.S. Pinafore (1878). BMI Work #4257023.
· “You Keep Me Hangin’ On.” By Lamont Dozier, Brian Holland, and Eddie Holland. BMI Work #1720690.
· “Stop in the Name of Love.” By Lamont Dozier, Brian Holland, and Eddie Holland. BMI Work #1413855.
· “One, Two, Three.” Len Barry [Leonard Borisoff], Lamont Dozier, Brian Holland, Eddie Holland, John Medara, and David White. BMI Work #1126577.
· “If I Only Had a Brain.” By Harold Arlen and E. Y. Harburg.8
· “Black Magic Woman.” By Peter Alan Green. BMI Work #121091.
· “Spring Carol.” From Ceremony of Carols. By Benjamin Britten (1942).
· “You Got Me Wrapped [Around Your Little Finger].” By Beth Rowley and Benjamin Castle. BMI Work #9833096.
· “On the Wings of a Nightingale.” By Paul McCartney. ASCAP Work ID: 450177005.
· “Hello Dolly.” By Jerry Herman. ASCAP Work ID: 380106250.
· “Jubilation T. Cornepone.” By Gene de Paul and Johnny Mercer. ASCAP Work ID: 400022800.
· “Oh Happy Day.” By Philip Doddridge. (18th c.)9
· “Suspended from Class.” By Tracyanne Campbell. ASCAP Work ID: 493817573.
· “God Bless America.” By Irving Berlin. ASCAP Work ID: 370029559.
· “America the Beautiful.” Katherine Lee Bates and Samuel Ward. BMI Work #34771.
· “Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I’m Yours.” By Lee Garrett, Lula Mae Hardaway, Stevie Wonder, and Syreeta Wright. ASCAP Work ID: 490293528.
· “Doctor, My Eyes.” By Jackson Browne. ASCAP Work ID: 340138550.
· “Gee, Officer Krupke.” By Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein. Music Theatre International. https://www.mtishows.com/west-side-story.
· “Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy.” By Freddie Mercury. BMI Work #495994.
· “Sweet Gypsy Rose.” By Irwin Levine and Russell Brown. BMI Work #1294630.
· “Bohemian Rhapsody.” By Freddie Mercury. ASCAP Work ID: 320199817.
· “Put on a Happy Face.” By Lee Adams and Charles Strouse. ASCAP Work ID: 890113209.
· “Tits and Ass.” By Marvin Hamlisch and Edward Kleban. ASCAP Work ID: 892861121.
· “Like a Virgin.” By Thomas Kelly and William Steinberg. ASCAP Work ID: 420307199.
· “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.” By Bob Dylan. SESAC Work Number: 514919.
· “You Give Love a Bad Name.” By Jon Bongiovi, Desmond Child, and Richard Sambora. ASCAP ID: 550147303.
· “Crazy Love.” By Russell Young. ASCAP Work ID: 330259797.
· “Let’s Get It On.” By Marvin Gaye and Edward Townsend. BMI Work #857218.
· “Everything’s Coming Up Roses.” By Stephen Sondheim and Jule Styne. ASCAP Work ID: 350034303.
· “We Hasten with Eager Footsteps.” (Wir eilen mit Schwachen.) By J. S. Bach.
· “Seven Deadly Virtues.” By Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe. Music Theatre International. https://www.mtishows.com/camelot.
· “Rag Doll.” By Bob Crewe and Bob Gaudio. BMI Work #1223896.
[Scene 1]
[Somewhere near Paris, outdoors, music plays.]10
DOLLY begins
And now, it’s time to sing a little song of days gone by, so pleasing to the ear, of which we never tire, tales of love: the deeds, the twists, the turns, as you shall hear, of Fortune’s faces that we know so well: outrageous tricks, ruses, manipulations by which, all things considered, any gal can take her mark for everything he’s worth. By hook, by crook, every trick in the book: I’ve got the ways, the means, the schemes, the style: I always get my man, I’ll do him royal. My fashion sense is all dollars and sense. The end, miladies, justifies the means to get that gentleman under your thumb. Where there’s a will, conniving is my way—in good conscience and even better clothes. I’ll dress the part and pull out all the stops. A fashion plate, thank God, is dressed to kill and, King of Kings, c’est moi:© the queen of queens! I’m all dressed up with everywhere to go and plenty up my sleeve: I’m all the rage. The endgame is my game and, when I smile at one man while I’m winking at the other, there’ll be a change of Fortune. Spin my wheel! Rien ne va plus, gents, so, place your bets on me. I’m gonna get you in the end.© That’s why I’m rightly called all over Paris “Madame”—I’ll be your baby doll—I’m Dolly.11
JEZEBEL
And I’ve got style. I pile it on. Got makeup, powder, pancake, rouge. I’m happy and I’m gay! Just watch me shake my little ass. From soup to nuts, they eat me up. Got taste. Whipped cream with cherry on the top. [Ain’t no one beats my Sundae best!] So, servez-vous: I’m à la mode. Love is my shepherd: I won’t want. You name that tune, boys, gotta dance.© Sweet painted lady.© Even this here dress is painted on. So, just gimme your needle, boys, to thread: have you in stitches in no time. En garde! The royal standard’s mine. I plant my flag, and it shall wave! Love is a battlefield.© Watch out ’cause, what so proudly I do hail, I don’t wave everybody in!
I win! You lose: there’s nobody can beat my style. I got a name: be careful you don’t wear it out. I’m what you call a Jezebel.12
TARTUFFIE
I won’t be left behind. Nay! Victory is mine! ’Tis what a zealot says. Victorious I reign, for I have played it straight: all on the up and up.
[Aside] Ladies and gentlemen, you might say “the down-low.”
I move in most mysterious ways behind the scenes. That’s where the action is, my case made sight unseen. I practice sleight of hand, so crucial to my role, plus tricks of sacred trade, where secrecy obtains, lest there be penetration by a steely glance that would reveal the truth and pretense of my act. You take me for a zealot? Moi? I’m faking it. It all comes down to this: I am a hypocrite.13
DOLLY
Say, girls! What do you say we three sing a little motet to pass the time? Where is there a tenor when you need one?
JEZEBEL
[{Briefly performing some high-camp dance maneuvers} What? I said happy and gay. Hilli-ho! Just count on Mistress Jezziwig!] And I’ll be takin’ my sweet time too because the queen of style, c’est moi!© My motto is: the only pleasure in this life is pleasure in this life. Pleasure is as pleasure does.14
TARTUFFIE
I’m all dolled up at Mass, from my head to my … mass, just going through the motions: I’m mouthing the words. Monk-ey see, monk-ey do. Think I’m saying my prayers? Underneath this great cape, it’s all bell, shtick, and candle. I speak softly, but I carry a big stick. Eyes like saucers, wide open, and mouth open too for communion. Just watch as I move through the aisles. Here I come! Off’ring up a whole fistful of candles. There’s just one thing missing and that’s God Himself. Make hay while the sun shines. [And, sometimes, where it don’t.]
DOLLY
Leave it to that one to drag out the introductions. Some dolly you are! You call that a fashion statement? You’re so fine, they’ll never see ya leavin’ by the back door, ma’am.© Fashion is a public face: you don’t get all dolled up just to please yourself. Plus, everybody sees right through you. Not exactly what a real dolly would call intelligent design. And, by the way, nobody puts baby-dolly in a corner.15
JEZEBEL
[Tap-dancing] Hello? Happy and gay, remember? Point/Counterpoint. It’s all for the pleasure of the play; and the play is in the dress. And in the undress. I’m positively overflowin’ with the milk of human kindness: always ready to spread a little sunshine© and give as good as I get because, lemme tell you: ain’t nothin’ like a good fit. And no skanky broad nowhere’s gonna swing my partner and Sunday-best me! She is outta there!
DOLLY
Do unto others. Got it. You’re a real paragon.
[{To the audience} We all know what she’s spreading and it ain’t sunshine.]
TARTUFFIE
And Tartuffie’s the name, casuistry’s my game. If I’m dolled up, it’s that my adornments are words. At banquets and soirées, I fear no man alive. Bless my soul, there’s no one holds a candle to me.
DOLLY
I wouldn’t look sideways at you. [Gesturing toward the audience] Now: sideways at them—that slew o’ young heartthrobs out there—that’s a clothes-horse of a different color! You know the type: doll-baby boys trying like all get-out to one-up me in the fashion department. Like they’re some kinda Jezebels. But social intercourse has its cost, you know, and all I gotta do is … Just one look: that’s all it took, oh baby!© And the eyes have it. Quite the setup, really, because, by the by, that’s all they’re gonna get off me before they take a powder. And off they go, empty-handed, gonna beat a hasty retreat before they ever tap this. [Now, come on, vogue.©]
JEZEBEL
[Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!] I got a couple o’ suck-ups been trottin’ along behind me for the longest time now: a month, two months, a year, two years. I run ’em ragged till they’re practically shitting their silks and velvets and ribbons and laces.© Got ’em waitin’ on all sides, but I give ’em just enough of a taste to keep ’em hangin’ on.© And then, guess what? [Stop in the name of love!©] I slam the door in their faces and leave ’em out in the cold with their teeth chattering before they ever tap this.
TARTUFFIE
[Oh, Lord!] ’Tis the nature of man.
DOLLY
’Tis the nature of the beast, more like, and the beast is a sucker. Like takin’ candy from a baby.© His end justifies my means.
JEZEBEL
If they only had a brain.© It’s women got the know-how, got the wiles, got the moves. We’ve got this.
[Together, the three ladies endeavor to whip the crowd into an antiphonal frenzy.]
TARTUFFIE
And who was it, pray tell, who hung Virgil out to dry—in a basket—just for fun?
DOLLY
A tiny little woman—please!—had wise, old Solomon on his knees, worshipping at her feet.
JEZEBEL
A woman finishes a man right off. It’s a real snow job.
TARTUFFIE
And who was it, pray tell, that cut brave, strong Samson down to size? Took a little bit off the top, as it were?
JEZEBEL
Who coulda snagged the golden fleece without a black magic woman?© [Yo! does the name Medea ring a bell?]
TARTUFFIE
For a woman, deception never sleeps. She’s hell-bent on trickery and, with malice aforethought, she’s always on the lookout for just the right scheme to head a man off at the pass and nip that thing in the bud. For her own salvation.
DOLLY
And pleasure it is©—great pleasure—when a woman plays her role and maybe lays all the blame on her husband for saying “the Devil come here today! C’mere, take ’er away!” She’s got the poor sap wrapped around her little finger.©16
JEZEBEL
You think I got egg on my face? Like this luminous complexion comes cheap.17 [Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack watch out for that candlestick!]
DOLLY [singing]
Oh, summer of love! I get a feeling like I’m traveling through the sky on the wings of a nightingale. Oh, I can feel something happening.© [Et Tartuffie?]18
TARTUFFIE
Well, hello, Dolly.© [I thought she’d never get to the chorus.] Come to think of it: What ever happened to our Lady of Theology? I haven’t seen Theologina around lately.
DOLLY
Jubilation T. Hornpone,© said the actress to the Pope. In the name of Saint Cornelius, don’t tell me you haven’t heard! She went to Rome, she did, Tartuffie, for a dispensation to get vested and so forth so that, from here on in, she’d have the power and the authority to hear our confessions.19
TARTUFFIE
Oh, happy day!© Mark my words: ’Tis a far, far better thing for us all.
JEZEBEL
That woman really knows her stuff. She’s into it so deep, there ain’t a Ph.D. nowhere, no how, got her know-how. [Not even in the Religious Studies Department.]
DOLLY
And don’t get me started on those theologians. Bunch of asses, the whole lot of ’em! Dirty old dogs! Dirty old doggy-style! And have you seen those get-ups? A theologian’s got no honor and no class. Don’t know his elbow from his ass.©
TARTUFFIE
[When you lay down with dog turds, you get fleas.] In the name of Saint Julian, the-oh-so-hospitable, Theologina knows all.20
DOLLY
She certainly knows how to read between the lines. Knows her Bible inside out too. She’s looked the whole thing over from one end to the other: that’s the French Bible. And other books besides, like Virgil’s Metamorphoses. [{Tartuffie glares at her.} And the Iliad, the Space Odyssey …] And she’s all over that Farmers’ … Almanac. You name it, she’s got her nose in it.
JEZEBEL
Totally. She got a mind on her. It’s awesome.
DOLLY
She knows her way around any subject: civil law, canon law, papal decrees.… She’s a doctor, a lawyer, a pulpiteer-in-chief and, in the name of Saint John the Baptist, she’s the one on hand every day to correct all the errors of those higher-ups at church. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks? Those books get plenty of action.21
TARTUFFIE
She’s the one who reviewed the translations from vulgar Latin into the rustica romana lingua. [The women look confused.] Into the vernacular. [More silence] Into French, [for God’s sake!]22
JEZEBEL
[Vulgar is as vulgar does.] Who else is gonna catch all them errors if it ain’t women?
DOLLY
Seriously. A bunch of blabbermouth confessors who don’t even know which end is up? They’re practically illiterate and they’re the ones gonna discipline and punish us women? As if!
TARTUFFIE
They’ve certainly never gotten a thing out of me and they never will.
[Aside] Nothing of consequence, that is.
JEZEBEL
Truth or consequences! I’ll play. It don’t bother me none to tell ’em any old thing and get it all off my chest. A real fire in my belly, or wherever. Let it all hang out, I say.
DOLLY
I’ll never tell what’s on my conscience. What happens within stays within.
TARTUFFIE
In sure and certain hope, one day there shall come a dispensation to absolve us of all our wrongs.
[{As if Theologina has missed her cue} Oh where, oh where could that dispensation be?]
[Scene 2]
THEOLOGINA enters [out of breath, messy, disheveled, and a little dirty, struggling to carry a great number of boxes, purses, satchels, bottles, etc. She rummages through the items looking for something very particular.]
Through the twists and turns of outrageous fortune, from the mountains, to the prairies, to the oceans white with foam,© through purple mountains majesty above the fruited plain,© up and down, high and low, far and wide, here and there, everywhere: I rushed right over, having toiled tirelessly on the entire negotiation. So, here I am, signed, sealed, deliverance,© and—check it out!—with a great big pile of bulls! Pardons, indulgences, dispensations: all this can be yours if the price is right!
Ladies: I spared no expense. Unus, duo, tres, quattuor, quinny, sex! I’ll confess any woman on the face of this earth: one by one, two by two, by the dozen, by the thousands. It’s all within my power! And about those husbands: it’ll be our little secret. Mum’s the word. Mummery too. All’s well that ends well.
DOLLY
Boy am I glad to see you! Welcome back!
JEZEBEL
Me too. I’m so happy, I could pop a vein. I’m all hot and bothered just lookin’ at you, Theologina.23
TARTUFFIE
Me too. But I’m not bothered at all. Indeed, I’m feeling much easier already, more at peace. Welcome.
THEOLOGINA
[She brandishes a huge scroll.] I came as fast as the good old legs could carry me, directly from Rome, where I’ve seen it all and where I’ve obtained—voilà!—this bull, which touches upon a number of very serious matters. Go on, girls, take it all in. Read it and weep!
DOLLY
Mother Mary, would you look at all those seals! That thing must be worth its weight in … weight.
THEOLOGINA
It just so happens that, in exchange for the coin of the realm, I’ve indulged. And I’ve brought the whole kit and caboodle right back here on my own personal beast of burden. Although, there was that big moment at the tippy-top when.… That ass breaks free and goes down, down, down into the valley of death—reins, bridle, and all—and expires on the spot.24
JEZEBEL
The Pope sure as hell got that one wrong: stickin’ you with a hard-headed ass when you need to ride the pony express.
THEOLOGINA
In Rome, asses are a dime a dozen—they’re practically giving them away—and there’s no ass like a kiss-ass French ass. That, I can assure you. They go like hot-cross buns. Some are even endowed with enormous crowns, big and wide as a cardinal’s—.
DOLLY
Sin? But there’s something that doesn’t quite sit right about vesting asses like that with rank and position.
THEOLOGINA
In the name of Saint Maclovius, patron saint of morons and shellfish—they’re piled higher and deeper out there. In my experience. [I’ve seen it with my own eyes.]
JEZEBEL
[{To the audience} She means Saint Mack on the down-low. You got the dough, they got the bull.]
So: wanna give that dispensation o’ yours a read?
That we might be privy to the contents contained therein?
THEOLOGINA
[She waves the document very quickly so as to preclude a closer look.] Silence! for I shall now read this bull, and ye shall see that this is the real deal. You’ve never seen bull—a bull—like this. It covers everything, the ultimate pour-over. And I personally worked all the angles to come up with the main clause myself.
Hear ye! Hear ye! [Regarding the power to interrogate women jointly and severally—it’s all in good order, all right here in this written instrument—Whereas …
{Jezzie grabs the oboe.} No, not that instrument.]
Oyez, Oyez! Hear ye, hear ye!
Reading the bull
“Let it be known to all the men and women gathered here today that, by my authority, I do hereby solemnly vest Madame Theologina with the full rights and power to confess all women from A to Z—and this, without respect to class—to grill them from the head down to the ass.”
The signature then reads: “Signed by Jack Asse.”
Et sic et non, a quolibet, at last! And not a single word out of place. No joke. All in due form and properly executed.25
DOLLY
I’ve got a real doozy on my conscience I’ve been meaning to confess but I’ve been keeping it all in.
TARTUFFIE
O Theologina, great and wise and full of knowledge: you shall know forthwith my deepest, darkest secrets.
JEZEBEL
Me too, I’ll spill. The truth, the whole truth, and nothin’ but the truth about everything I been tryin to forget: the whole dirty business.
THEOLOGINA takes the surplice and the stole
Prepare to unburden yourselves then, ladies, for, whatever it be upon your conscience, ye shall be purged. [It’s cathartic.] Now take a moment to gather your thoughts.26
DOLLY
In the name of Saint Michael, I’ll sing like a canary! [And a great trumpet shall blow. And maybe we can finally do that motet.] You’ll have every word of it: chapter and verse of … chapter and verse.27
JEZEBEL
Some windfall, right?—[and hey! who are you callin’ a strumpet?] We’re gonna make out like bandits with that thingy, I can tell. I’ll just confess what I done wrong. Name that sin, wipe the slate clean.
TARTUFFIE
We’ve been wasting our time confessing to those fat, mealy-mouthed priests. We confess to all the little sins but not word one about the big ones.
DOLLY
From here on in, we’re gonna do it our way, from beginning to—[smacking a butt]—end. But let’s make it snappy and confess all this stuff before we forget. In remembrance of moi!
THEOLOGINA
Make the sign of the cross, all three of you! I’m certainly of a mind to use confession in order to be privy to your innermost thoughts.
[The three women might muddle in pantomime about how to do this correctly, especially Jezebel.]
By the power vested in me, I [hereby] bless you in the name of the Father and the Son.
[{To the audience} What? You think they know the difference?]
DOLLY
Okeydokey, then, I’ll play. No kidding, I’ll tell you all the wrong I’ve ever done. Now, about my face: the penetrating sideways glances, the steely-eyed seduction I’ve been working like a charm on all those wimpy lover boys, batting my baby blues every which way but—doctor, my eyes!© I confess.
THEOLOGINA
Eyes on the prize, was it? And you opened even wider, didn’t you?, once you saw the treasure trove? [Baubles and bangles,] trinkets and chains, sable and squirrel fur. A doll for all seasons. [And we call that “Dolly-sign” eyeballs.]
DOLLY
[Eyes wide open, purse wide open.] But I am awfully sorry for that sin of mine. I repent. I confess. Whatever.
THEOLOGINA
Have you ever been to Mass for the sole purpose of faking a little devotion?
DOLLY
[Does the Devil have horns?] All the time! I was there for one reason and one reason alone: to make a mockery of all that’s holy. If you’ve got it, flaunt it! [She vogues.] [That is my contrition position.] All dolled up. Fashion cash-in. Rubbing their noses in the latest couture: low-cut gingham dresses cinched all the way in at the waist and with great gilt belts. I wear that gilt like a badge of honor, I do. And everybody’s talking about my fashion sense because, when Dolly gets dolled up, it’s always over the top. [Now, come on, vogue!©]
THEOLOGINA
That particular sin is pervasive and most displeasing to God. [It’s a travesty.]
DOLLY
[Moi? I’m not a transvestite!] But I have been around. Everywhere. Parties, banquets, festivals: [the usual watering holes] where all the gossip, badmouthing, and rumormongering begin. Everybody doin’ the nasty. But, if you want the real scoop on who comes up with the most vile, outrageous filth, c’est moi!© I’ll one-up any man or woman out there in gossip; and this little Dolly’s spread plenty in her day. Trashed the reputations of quite a few wives too.
THEOLOGINA
Essentially speaking, then: the greater the sin, the greater the material burden on your conscience, and, the greater still, the requisite penance.
DOLLY
[She beats her ample breast.] Yeah, yeah, yeah. I repent already, okay? For that and all my sins, I’m truly sorry.
THEOLOGINA
You’re inclined, are you not, Dolly, to be out and about in Montmartre? Playing around with the locals on pilgrimage? Drawn to all those holy relics, are you? Oh, the monk-ey business!28
DOLLY
[Montmartre? They got a whole “Dolly” museum up there! Plus, a monk makes a helluva sacred host.]29 I’ve been out at least four times lately by Saint-Germain-des-Prés: red-light district. Been achin’ for a cure gonna lick that infection once and for all.
[{She kneels.} See here? I’m down on my knees ’cause no one wants a monk-ey with a social disease.©]
THEOLOGINA
Butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, of course. But, behind those abbey walls, deep within the inner sanctum, those boobs have been known to work real miracles out of false devotion. What with all that trailing along behind all those holy rollers—sleazy monks and slimy abbots, the fat slobs!—a woman soon finds herself pregnant. [Now tell me:] Mightn’t such a case have befallen you?
DOLLY
What do you think? There was this one day—a girl’s gotta go along to get along—when I’m fully intending on doing it, you know, for kicks: play it as it lays, dance to their tune because I’ve got my eye on this new dress and my husband’s all bent outta shape about what it’s gonna set him back. [You gotta front those big deposits, right?] But, when you gotta have it, you gotta have it. Long story short: I’m gonna do whatever it takes, outta spite, you know? Gonna get my comeuppance as I see fit and play the whole thing out on my terms. All’s fair in love and war, and this doll shall be avenged! I won’t be sidelined! Vengeance is mine, sayeth Dolly: an eye for an eye. A tit for a tat. I simply had to have that dress in my possession.
THEOLOGINA
[Possession is nine-tenths of the law, to be sure.] But you might want to leave the tits out of it. Now, let’s move on.30
DOLLY
Somebody sure as hell made a move on me the other day. And—not to worry—a fashion plate always rises to the occasion. So, I’m on my way to Père Lachaise, right?, for a little déjeuner sur l’herbe, whistling past the graveyard and such. And then, there’s this nut-job in the garden, right?, spanking the bishop, if you catch my drift. I’m only human, you know. Deep down inside me there is good, there is good, there is good, there is untapped good!© So, I’m on my knees in no time, right?, and—talk about creaming in your—. He pontificates all over me! Speaking of which, I might just as well fess up to what came next.31
THEOLOGINA
As well you should, indubitably. But do be mindful about vengeance. And we’ll get to the adultery in a minute. Next?
[Tartuffie misunderstands and, thinking that it’s her turn, she falls to her knees, only to rise in frustration when Dolly continues.]
DOLLY
Okay, so one time—some Sunday or holiday—I’m all down in the dumps, right?, because I’m over at Saint Merri’s, and I see this amazing dress with furry trim at the hips and plenty of room up those [bishop] sleeves. And, seein’ as I’m all about deep pockets and everything, I just had to have me one. I wanted it real bad; but my husband—God damn him!—he makes this whole point of telling me there’s no way in this life I’m ever getting such a slutty dress. So, then—I don’t wanna blow it, right?—God only knows how, but I manage to put out. But, the whole time, I’m two steps ahead of him ’cause, the very next day, at the crack of dawn, I make myself a little rendezvous out in the Bois de Boulogne. Bagatelle Park. I got a guy in the seizième handles this sort of thing for me.
THEOLOGINA
Did you perchance go into the woods, pretending like you needed to pee?
DOLLY
[Duh. I’ve seen Blind Man’s Buff.] Like I had to squat down to pick a bouquet of violets [or roses or what have you]. So, I excuse myself, right? And—enter, stage left—ooh love, ooh lover boy©—staff in hand, la bitte en fleur, horn o’ plenty, plenty o’ horns, and plenty horny. We gathered the hell outta them rosebuds, just to pass the time. And anything else we could get our hands on.32
THEOLOGINA
That was most improper.
DOLLY
Got me a scarlet gown off it—[didn’t even need to fake a headache!]—with squirrel-fur trim all around.33
THEOLOGINA
Which Dolly might consider not wearing inside out. I do believe that’s a fashion misstatement.
DOLLY
[Singing] Into the woods, the grass is green! Under the linden tree with you. Into the woods, the grass is green! The cuckold sings cuckoo! And cock-a-doodle-doo!34
THEOLOGINA
Small wonder. All dolled up in that fashion from your head to your ass.
DOLLY
I never sinned in this life except outta my incontrovertible sense of fashion.
THEOLOGINA
Whence my assertion that it’s impossible for the husband, as provider, to keep you dolled up like that in the latest fashions. Not without help.
DOLLY
[And that’s no fabric-ation!] If it’s this season, I’m in it: draping myself in velvet, silks, and satins, slipping myself into crinolines, taffetas, and petticoats. All the rings on the fingers and bells on the toes;© the cork-soled, fuzzy slippers, the bonnets, chains, and chokers; the sable and the lambskins. All mere trifles. But giant rocks and family jewels? Wow. Not like they’re hard to come by. And the husband as provider? Don’t make me laugh.
THEOLOGINA
Others “provide,” I understand: kill two birds with one stone. But, any lover feathering your nest had best be careful, lest he fall into your trap. I’m astonished that your husband doesn’t put up a fuss.
DOLLY
Like I care. A bird in the hand is worth two in my bush. I play my hand, he follows suit. And I lead him around by the nose.
THEOLOGINA
By the nose, is it? Rolled out the red carpet, did you? And I suppose you just happened to give him a whiff of what’s really going on down there.
DOLLY
Anyway the wind blows, doesn’t really matter.©
THEOLOGINA
’Tis an ill wind that no one blows good.35 [Jezebel grabs the oboe again and is rebuffed by a glare from Theologina.] One whiff down there and a man goes hog wild.
DOLLY
[Puts the hubbies to the testes, all right.] I got the stakes, I ante up, and I bleed ’em dry. Whenever I feel like. Nobody bluffs like me. I got game, and it’s my name on everybody’s lips. [{She makes the sign of the cross.} From those lips to God’s ear!]
THEOLOGINA
This is madness. When a man gets his blood up, he does not put his best foot forward, a slave to the basest of animal instincts. Down and dirty, like a pig. It’s pathetic.36
DOLLY
Half a foot’s more like it, but I put on a happy face.© I fake a little affection; he grabs a little thigh. Big deal. But I’ve had enough of this confession already. I’m thinking that pretty much covers all the wrong I’ve ever done. Whatever.
THEOLOGINA
If, even by omission, you have committed other sins that you’ve neglected to mention or that you no longer remember, then pray now, that God forgive you and have mercy on your soul.37
DOLLY
Amen!
THEOLOGINA
To that!
And now, by the power vested in me [sotto voce] for as long as it lasts …
Get over here Jezebel. Your turn.
JEZEBEL, confessing
What am I supposed to do here? What do I say?
THEOLOGINA
Make the sign of the cross and say mea culpa, for God’s sake! Mea maxima culpa.
JEZEBEL
What the—! Ain’t like I learned it in school, I swear.
THEOLOGINA
I shall now hear your case, all in due form: the entire reckoning. Now, get over here and tell me: how long has it been since your last confession?
JEZEBEL
[Distracted throughout] I ain’t been to confession … comin’ up on four years Ascension Day.
THEOLOGINA
What’s this? Mary, Mother of—. These are grave errors!
JEZEBEL
It’s them illiterate confessors gimme the creeps. Don’t know one end from the other. Besides, they can’t keep a secret. Always shootin’ their mouths off. They got loose lips, I swear.
THEOLOGINA
Asses that they are! By what right do they reveal the secrets of the confessional? I’ll see personally to this abuse and reform those asses but good. But, pray, do go on. Don’t stop now. You can’t be too careful about this sort of thing.
JEZEBEL
Maybe you wanna interrogate me about my makeup. Go on, ask me anything. We can go through the whole list of what I done.
THEOLOGINA
Tell me about the makeup, [at least as a foundation].
JEZEBEL
Funny you should mention it: to make myself more attractive, I had my whole face done. My body too. In style. It’s all about the package. It’s window dressing, all for show. Everybody’s doin’ it. Tits and ass, orchestra and balcony. What they want is what you see.© And, by the buy, what you see ain’t exactly what they get. Like a virgin, hey! Touched for the very first time.© Not!38
THEOLOGINA
Regarding that last statement: you’re coming dangerously close to the mortal sin of pride.
JEZEBEL
It’s my eyes done the sinnin’, checkin’ things out willy-nilly like I got no free willy. A girl can’t help it.
THEOLOGINA
Wait just one minute. Regarding that last instance, I must inquire: Have you been playing games? The one they call “hide the sausage,” perhaps?
JEZEBEL
Hide the sausage? What do you think? On my backgammon. I shoved that thing straight up the wazoo and played the hell outta them shit-kebabs!39
THEOLOGINA
From “A” to zee derrière!
JEZEBEL
[She takes a swig of liquor.] Set ’em up, down they go! Gin! Just blow in the box and game over! It’s my pretty little lies do ’em in every time. As a professional sweet-talker, bunch o’ pussies all fall down.40
THEOLOGINA
As does your conscience, bearing such a heavy load. But your conclusion strikes me as a bit premature. Plus, that was a dangling modifier.41
JEZEBEL
Premature? Haste makes waste and, lemme tell you, this ain’t wasted! Plus, if anything’s dangling, it ain’t no modifier. And I’m on it. Just the cunning sorta gal to take on all comers.
THEOLOGINA
Which doesn’t even qualify as sleeping your way to the altar. They’re clearly most eager to make an enormous donation, and I doubt very much it’s to the Church.
JEZEBEL
[To have and to hole.] If they wanna put somethin’ into collection, try takin’ care of this fashion plate. I satisfy their every appetite, cater to their every whim. All good enough to eat. [Fleur de lys. Whatever they desire.] Long as there’s a steady stream o’ cash, just come on in, boys! But, when the money runs out, it’s out the back door with ’em and they can kiss my ass! [A pox on all their houses! It ain’t no picnic.]
THEOLOGINA
Oh, come on. And let’s not mix apples and orgasms. Plus, that’s two, two, two sins in one. You soothe them with fairy tales, [only to avoid them like the plague.] Speaking of which—over here, I said, you Jezebel!—you’ve never been to Naples, have you?
JEZEBEL
Damn straight I been there.
THEOLOGINA
And Syria? Consorting with the locals and sweating it out? Have plague will travel?42
JEZEBEL
You know it! Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how did that garden grow? It was cockle shells galore when I went deep into the countryside—free room and board too, and that ain’t no claptrap! For me, there was plenty of room at the inn first shot out of the box.
THEOLOGINA
But was this proper lodging?
JEZEBEL
[{Breaking into a sweat} ’Twas brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe: all mimsy were the borogoves and the momeraths outgrabe the hell outta themselves!] It’s quite the setup, really: come one, come all. The bedrooms is all painted copper—fit for a king and a king-size fit—and the style’s, well, “jez” like I said: all pump and circumstance, knock, knock, knockin’ on heaven’s door.© And they really keep it up too. Folks want for nothin’—[you can have your cake and eat him too!]—and, if you got a taste for quail, everything’s finger-lickin’ good. But you gotta pay the piper on the way out, which is all birdshot if you ask me. Only problem: it’s like an oven out there, so you’re pretty much sweatin’ like a pig the whole time.43
THEOLOGINA
[To the audience] As if she’d just been there.
I do believe you’re getting warmer.
JEZEBEL
I’m there any time.
[Knock, knock!
THEOLOGINA
Who’s there?
JEZEBEL
Goliath.
THEOLOGINA
Goliath who?
JEZEBEL
Goliath down, thou lookest tired!]
THEOLOGINA
You’ve never done anything illegal, have you? Some stunt that would rise to the level of reckless endangerment?44
JEZEBEL
You’re kidding, right? I give love a bad name.© Done plenty o’ damage in my day. There’s one guy used to run fast as a greyhound but, now, let’s just say he’s dead as a doornail. [Sotto voce] In bed. Got a pain in the joints, all splayed out in front of the fire cryin’ his eyes out—“waah, waah, waah, the gout!”—[and Fouque him!]45 All on accounta—ooh, ooh, crazy love©—he feasted his eyes on this. One little nip, and I’m good to the last drop.
THEOLOGINA
No accounting for a Jezebel’s taste. Shame. Shame.
JEZEBEL
Know what? Who cares? Who says the big pussy’s gotta come around at all like a eunuch at a whorehouse? He can put up or shut up.
THEOLOGINA
Anyone wishing to keep a Jezebel like you in style will most certainly put up with that little extra something you give him to remember you by.
JEZEBEL
Put up, put out, and get thee behind me, Satan! It is all in zee derrière. Theologina, I got two other bad things I wanna confess; so, let’s get it on©—I mean, get on with it.
THEOLOGINA
Confess. Let it all out. Get it off your chest. Don’t hold back.
JEZEBEL
As I was sayin’: Back in my porkin’ days, it was all [put down the vinegar,] take up the honey pot, and spread a little sunshine.© That was my style and I landed plenty o’ bright, shiny things in my stash. All decked out like a queen and you shoulda seen the size of my rocks! But forewarned is foreskinned: [everything’s comin’ up roses© and] them roses was bloomin’ all over the place. So much for drippin’ in jewels.46
THEOLOGINA
[And nothing can bring back the glory in that flower.] You’re very well-endowed, I see. Snatched it all up, did you?
[{To the audience} As plain as that zit on her face. Et in terra pox.]47
JEZEBEL
And that’s all I have to say about that. If I done wrong, I’m truly sorry. My bad. [She kneels, but thinks better of it.]
THEOLOGINA
Let’s go, Tartuffie, you’re up. Make it snappy. Just do a blanket confession.
[Languorously and ostentatiously, Tartuffie takes her Bible, kneels, and makes the sign of the cross as Theologina glares.]
TARTUFFIE
[Bless me—. Very well, then.] To come straight to the point: I confess most sincerely to Almighty God, the Creator, and to you too that—
THEOLOGINA
[Sanctimonious bitch! It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.] Tartuffery is a sin that is an affront to the good Lord and to all the saints.
TARTUFFIE
On bended knee, I confess that, regarding Tartuffery, I have sinned most shamefully and outrageously against my God. I would pretend to be off on pilgrimage, but all the Bible-thumping was mere pretense. I was simply playing a role when, in reality, I was sneaking off into town, Tartuffily, to play around and … [in a whisper] get laid.
THEOLOGINA
’Twas the work of a hypocrite, Tartuffie.
TARTUFFIE
When my husband was away on business, I’d go into the woods—religiously—about thirty miles outside of Paris—all the way into the wetlands—to make merry. But I didn’t exactly have devotion on my mind. I sang every dirty song known to man, which honor would reprove, with a frisky young Frenchman in tow. Stylish, dapper, eager to please. Hit all the right notes and turned in quite the performance. On top. Rocked my world.48
THEOLOGINA
[To all three women.] Have you no fear of making cuckolds out of your poor, miserable husbands? Hypocrites commit multiple abuses and crimes against nature. O, ye of little faith! Ye fear neither God nor the Devil. Ye are ensconced in obstinacy, in heresy! Ergo, your crimes are unforgivable and, [directly at Tartuffie] failing reparation, you’re headed straight down the path to perdition.49
TARTUFFIE
If I could just conclude my confession: Mea culpa! Mea maxima culpa! With contrition in my heart, [my voice cries out in the wilderness!] For practicing deception and for raising Cain, may the Lord have mercy on my soul! Alas! Woe is me! I confess sincerely that I … I … I … [She whispers her next line so softly that no one hears for the first several times until, finally, she yells it out.] I screwed God outta the tithe! And for that sin, I am truly sorry.50
THEOLOGINA
Have you ever been to Mass after dinner?
TARTUFFIE
Why, yes. Commonly … communally … communionly. I’ve been there so often that there were those who thought I was living on a steady diet of crucifixes and icons of the Blessed Virgin. For all the ill I’ve ever done, for these and all the other sins which I cannot now remember, I am truly sorry. In the name of the Father, the Son, [and I forget the third one], I humbly beg forgiveness on my knees. [{She strikes a pose.} Am I not the picture of devotion?]51
THEOLOGINA, speaking to all the ladies
Do better from now on. And be ye obstinate no more!
DOLLY
So how’s about some absolution? We’ll take that blessing any time. [By the powder vested in you and so forth.]52
THEOLOGINA
No need. Seeing as you’ve already confessed, no absolution for you! Because, with these, my parting words: verily I say unto you that women get hustled through their confessions all the time. They’re heard every day but, then, after a full allocution—when all is said and heard and done—they are not, in fact, absolved. Besides, my bull does not extend so far as to cover the full absolution.53
JEZEBEL
Jeez! Is that any way to treat a lady? You get a bunch o’ women to confess and, then, you leave ’em hangin’ high and dry with no absolution in the end? You just make like a Catholic and pull out?
THEOLOGINA
Pull out. Exactly. [What can I say, girls? You got me on a technicality.] Therefore, without further ado, with feeble but diligent footsteps,© this very instant, I shall away! I’ll hightail it right back to Rome, fast as that ass can carry me, and see if I can’t do my best to finagle an audience with the Pope on this dispensation matter, such that, henceforth, he might certify me to grant absolute absolution. In the meantime, it’s time to dispense with you. Bye-bye for now. That’s all folks!54
[Theologina rushes off and the three penitents start to pass the hat for contributions. Tartuffie glares at any spectators not forthcoming.]
TARTUFFIE
And thus, she abandons us, with little choice but to accept this state of waiting … for what? Godot?
DOLLY
[I say folks, if anybody’s interested in catching another show, I’d best tell you who we are. We can be found at colleges and universities everywhere—why, we’re on the faculty in the French Department at this very school—correcting your God-awful grammar! Our school, our rules. And so …]
[All three women make the sign of the cross for this doubled version.]
If anyone should happen by, inquiring as to who we are:
Grammatically, we certify our academic repertoire.
[If you don’t know the golden rule, then get your asses back to school!]55
The END