CAST OF CHARACTERS
The FOOL, [FOUQUET] (Le Badin)
GWYNNIE, the WIFE (La Femme)
MANDY, the CHAMBERMAID (La Chambrière/Mannette)
[BOZO, the Valet, also a Fool]
[Various nonspeaking extras: additional Chambermaids, Father Maurice, a Nun]
PRODUCTION NOTES
The Farce nouvelle à troys personnaiges, c’est assavoir le Badin, la Femme, et la Chambrière (RBM, #16) has been edited only once in ATF, 1: 271–88 (again, paginated but without verse numbers). Petit de Julleville devotes all of six lines to it in the RTC (112); and other précis appear in Faivre (Répertoire, 64–65), Delepierre (DLU, 30), and Tissier in the context of Blue Confessions (RF, 6: 381). I know of no translation into English or any modern vernacular, and I can see why. The text is “highly mutilated” (RTC, 112) and “highly defective” (ATF, 1: 271n), its 341 more-or-less regular octosyllabic couplets occasionally corrupt to the point of indecipherability. Montaiglon understandably went with a good old-fashioned diplomatic edition: “having failed in our efforts to reestablish some of the dropped verses, we have elected to preserve the original in its exact form” (1: 271n). “As is” is right. Brace yourselves for the lengthiest Production Notes and endnotes of this book.
Plot
There’s no other way to put it. Nobody really gets it. For Delepierre, the dialogue is “extremely muddled” and the action “barely intelligible” (DLU, 30). Ditto for Faivre, who summarizes it “without any real certainty” because its sorry state “impedes our understanding of the details of the plot and the motivations of the characters” (Répertoire, 64–65). Even so, our final confession-themed play is well worth figuring out.
Depending on stagecraft, Confession Follies is a farce, a tragedy, or something in between. Upon entering a sick but well-to-do household, we meet, in one bedroom, the abusive fool of a husband, Fouquet, who is abed nursing his gout. In the other bedroom lies his long-suffering, unnamed wife (here, “Gwynnie”), also abed, but nursing her wounds from Fouquet’s latest beating (1: 273–74). In need of attention from her illicit lover, Father Maurice (Messire Maurice), Gwynnie dispatches her Chambermaid, Mannette (“Mandy”), to fetch him. Not so fast, threatens the Fool (Le Badin), who may or may not be Fouquet. You’ll see. He intercepts Mandy, announces that he will be the one to deliver the requested pastoral care, and Mandy plays along, probably in coerced complicity. She informs Gwynnie that Maurice will be popping over as soon as he has heard the dying Fouquet’s confession; and the rest plays out around two metadramatic masquerades.
In MASQUERADE #1 (Scene 5), it’s the Fool who, disguised as Maurice, feels Gwynnie up—the better, some have assumed, to confirm any suspicions about her adultery. But he gets more than he bargained for when, in farce’s classic move, Gwynnie shows and tells all. The Fool-in-Disguise then terminates the scene, upon which Gwynnie reckons that turnabout is fair play. In collaboration with Mandy, she masterminds a revenge scenario of her own in MASQUERADE #2, set in Fouquet’s bedroom (Scene 7). It is now Gwynnie who, costumed as a nun, directs the pastoral proceedings in an attempt to wheedle a deathbed confession out of her unrepentant and distinctly undying husband. But, in contradistinction to Confession Lessons, the closest farcical analogue (FF, 128–43), there is no real avowal from the faux penitent … unless you want to count his annoyed proclamation about being tricked. In two iterations of the moral of the story, he lambastes all women with “Treachery,”—or “Trickery,”—“thy name is woman” (Il n’est trahyson que d’une femme [1: 285]; Il n’est finesse que d’une femme [1: 288]). So far, so good?
Hardly.
What have the women done to the Fool to occasion such a grievance? What has he lost? What have they gained? And whose side is Mandy on anyway? Do the women beat Fouquet black and blue, as at the end of Confession Lessons (FF, 137–43)? And, if so, would that be a protofeminist triumph or a Pyrrhic victory? With or without confession, are any of these characters redeemable? Is the play redeemable?
It’s all very hard to tell, especially when Delepierre recaps MASQUERADE #2 like so: after the Fool has completed MASQUERADE #1 in his Priest costume, “once again, it is the Fool who takes the place of the husband and listens to what the wife has to say” (DLU, 30; my emphasis). In other words, Delepierre thinks that Le Badin and Fouquet—the Fool and the Husband—are two different people. Are they? And, if the Fool “takes the place of the husband” in Fouquet’s bed in MASQUERADE #2, then where is Fouquet?
As foolish as any sotie, Confession Follies reads more like a commedia-styled, pre-Artaudian series of free-standing vignettes for mimed improvisation, subject to ever-changing fortunes. But, mercifully, on one point, the text is unequivocal: “Fouquet” is most definitely the husband. Both Mandy and Gwynnie speak his name no fewer than fifteen times, the latter pointing him out to the audience in her very first speech as mon mary que vous voyez (“my husband that you see” [1: 271; my emphasis]). And there’s the rub. “Fouquet” is not named in the cast list, nor are any lines attributed to him as Fouquet. One male character alone is scripted—the generic Badin—which begs the question of the titular Fool’s identity. If, indeed, the Fool is Fouquet-the-Husband, then, per Delepierre, how can he take the place of the husband in MASQUERADE #2 (DLU, 30)? And, if he’s not Fouquet, who is he? Nor does it help that the Fool likes to refer to himself in the third person—and in the longest and most impenetrable speech of the play, no less (1: 278; below, note 16)—which leads to misprisions anticipatory of the Seinfeld episode in which “Jimmy likes Elaine.” Here’s the problem: officially, Confession Follies is a “farce for three characters, to wit, the Fool, the Wife, and the Chambermaid.” It’s the Farce nouvelle à troys [not à quatre] personnaiges, c’est assavoir le Badin, la Femme, et la Chambrière. “Three” is the magic number for Faivre, for whom the Badin is indisputably the Husband (Répertoire, 64–65); but Delepierre counted four and, to be perfectly honest, when I first read the play, so did I. So, who’s onstage?
It’s true, farce is notorious for its creative accounting. But it doesn’t normally lose count of its cast members, all the more so in that most offerings went by such names as “The Farce for X Characters.” Is it, therefore, the title that is wrong? Is Confession Follies a play for four characters? Could Gwynnie’s husband be a Harpo Marx–like presence who is seen but not heard in the conventional linguistic way? In a script replete with onomatopoeia, is Fouquet’s communication limited to the universal nonverbal language of grunting, groaning, coughing, and sneezing (below, § “Language”)? As we shall see, the singular advantage of a fourth character in a maddeningly messy text is that it means only two substantive errors have occurred in its dissemination, one possibly having precipitated the other. The first is the misnomer about trois personnages; the second is the omission of “The Husband” from the cast list. (Analogous omissions have, in fact, been known to occur in such a play as the Farce nouvelle des femmes qui apprennent à parler Latin [RC, #17], projected for a future volume as Chick Latin.) This would also explain why the Fool speaks of Fouquet: that is, he is not Fouquet. Who, then, might that fourth character be? And can he resolve the central anomaly of the play?
As Gwynnie tells us in excruciating detail (1: 273, 278), Fouquet is an apoplectic savage. Upon learning of his wife’s infidelity in MASQUERADE #1, there is no theory under which an inveterate abuser would fail to erupt in a murderous violence that would have stopped both Gwynnie and the play dead in their tracks. If Husband Fouquet, disguised as Maurice, was close enough to palpate his wife in MASQUERADE #1, there could be no MASQUERADE #2. Was the lack of verisimilitude at all problematic for the farceur? Probably not; but it certainly would be today. The solution lies in the mise-en-scène, which must be addressed forthwith under “Plot” in a commingling of all the usual categories of these Production Notes.
I submit that the Maurice-Impersonator and the Badin of MASQUERADE #1 is not Fouquet at all but, rather, another character type as beloved in farce as he is in commedia and in Molière: the Badin shall be Fouquet’s nosy, meddlesome, disobedient trickster of a Valet. And he shall be called … wait for it … “Bozo.” (Go with “Harpo,” if you prefer, but that’s the name I assigned to Tarabas of Shit for Brains [FF, #8].)
The presence of a valet is justified on several accounts: for one thing, the household is sufficiently wealthy to afford more than one chambermaid (1: 285). For another thing, it is not uncommon that a farcical valet—take Willy in The Shithouse (HD, #2)—would try to turn his mistress’s adulterous assignation to his own advantage. In MASQUERADE #1, Bozo would likewise engage in a grope-fest of Gwynnie and—eureka!—once we make room for Fouquet’s valet, most of the pieces of the puzzle fall into place thanks to a piece of stage business. When Fouquet cancels Mandy’s Maurice-fetching errand, the serial manhandler, Fouquet, grabs Bozo by the scruff of the neck and conscripts his valet into playing Maurice in MASQUERADE #1. Fouquet can still spy on “Maurice” and Gwynnie—but from outside Gwynnie’s bedroom window—from which vantage point he can see, at least partially, but not fully hear her adulterous avowal. (Either that, or he’s a bit deaf.) This dramaturgical strategy then saves Gwynnie and the play from any showstopping violence because Fouquet doesn’t hear the big reveal of her liaison dangereuse. But, wait, there’s more:
Under those circumstances, MASQUERADE #1 is, logically, the last straw for Gwynnie. She cannot abide having had her upper-class self groped by a mere valet whom she would surely have recognized. After years of simmering resentment, moreover, she would have yet one more reason to get back at Fouquet, indubitably the author of this new indignity. Meanwhile, if a voyeuristic Fouquet is crouching at the window of Gwynnie’s bedroom to watch Bozo play MASQUERADE #1, that position would clearly exacerbate the master’s gout (particularly if he keeps falling over at key visual moments). Fouquet would thus be motivated to return to his bedroom, which is precisely where Gwynnie needs him for MASQUERADE #2. No showstopping violence there either because not only would Fouquet never have heard the confirmation of Gwynnie’s adultery: Gwynnie’s nun’s habit would insulate her from reprisal. Even farce could scarcely stage, in real time, the assault of a nun. In any event, the subject of infidelity never comes up in MASQUERADE #2. Ergo, vengeance can be Gwynnie’s; and, by analogy to the retaliatory pseudo-deathbed-confession scene of Confession Lessons (FF, 128–36), Gwynnie and Mandy can immobilize, discipline, and punish the vile Fouquet. At long last, the otherwise confusing closing aphorism about women’s treachery makes sense. Confession Follies is rendered legible by a feminist dramaturgy that miraculously does three things. It faithfully preserves the misogynistic farcical tendency to insulate abusive men from formal legal consequences; it resolves most of the dramatic irregularities; and, in refusing to let Fouquet get off scot-free, it honors and updates a comedic legacy in which women take the law—and the farce—into their own hands.
Characters and Character Development
They all seem so familiar. The brutal, older, sicker, jealous, cuckold of a husband. The beaten-down, sexually rapacious, adulteress of a wife. The smart-alecky, unreliable, exploited chambermaid and, maybe, her male sidekick, the valet. But let’s start with the character about whom the most information is divulged, even though he is never scripted by name. The husband’s name derives from “Fouque” (< Germanic Volk), a fairly common moniker in the Loire region (the setting of The Jackass Conjecture [HD, 140–46]). Perhaps he is of German extraction and speaks with a German accent; but, regardless of how you hear him, he’s bad fouque. Described in Scene 1 as huffing, puffing, and ready to blow, he’s always burning up and—quelle coincidence!—fouquet was also a dangerously fiery game. Per Godefroy, it was “played by inserting a piece of cord up one nostril and lighting it on fire.” The player then undertook to extinguish the blaze by blowing as hard as possible out of the other nostril, awakening pity for “the clumsier when they burned themselves.” Play with Fouquet, you play with fire. Even in his isolation, disease, and despair, he is too much of a monster to elicit tragic pity. To add insult to injury, the crazy, nasty, shitty husband (fol, infect, breneux) is paranoid, underhanded, lonely, and melancholic. Gout does attack the joints; but how can he be both bedridden and on the move? Is he a trickster feigning illness? Is he in bed fouque-ing around with someone other than Gwynnie? With a random nun? Another man? A chambermaid who has little choice in the matter?
Like all the dramatis personae of Confession Follies, Fouquet is a study in contradictions. For Faivre and Delepierre, he is no fool when “playing the dying man tongue-in-cheek” (Répertoire, 65; DLU, 30). But that’s exactly who he is: fool enough—Fool enough?—to be a trickster tricked, a bully ultimately flattened by the same violence that he inflicts upon others. Whence my Two-Fool Conjecture. Fouquet is the Fool-Husband, to be flanked here by a second fool, Bozo-the-Valet. But, in keeping with the original foolishness, why not go crazy and cast twins or, crazier still, a single actor in a dual role?
N.B. For fidelity to the original text, I’ve nevertheless scripted Le Badin as The Fool but I’ve indicated in brackets, when need be, who I think he is at any given moment: Bozo or Fouquet. For the sake of clarity in the two Masquerades—and, as I did in At Cross Purposes (FF, 220–21)—I’ve relied on such overdeterminations as “Bozo-as-Maurice,” “Gwynnie-as-Nun,” “the Fool-Husband,” “Bozo-the-Valet,” and so forth.1
The volatile Fool is scripted a full fifty-five times, often with Mandy by his side and, just as often, sounding more like a valet than a master. In many ways, he is the loquacious star of the show who is none the more decipherable for all that speechifying. For example, he opens the farce with a pleasurable song about pleasure, which is out of character for the hateful Fouquet … unless the Husband is in bed with somebody other than Gwynnie … which would then shed an entirely different light on all his onomatopoetic groaning. During MASQUERADE #1, he sighs that he’d rather be having sex with the chambermaid in the woods (1: 280), which may be what prompted Faivre to surmise that the Fool has been conspiring with Mandy the whole time (Répertoire, 65). But, if he has easy access to Mandy, why go to all the trouble of arranging that masquerade in the first place? This is farce. Check. He’s a fool. Check. But which fool? A despicable Fouquet would be hankering to spy on Gwynnie; an intrusive Bozo would be delighted to be penetrating her inner sanctum, where a valet is not expected to serve; and he could still be surprised by what he learns of Gwynnie’s extracurricular activities with Father Maurice. Equally plausibly, Bozo could be in cahoots with Mandy—even married to her—taking her side (albeit from self-interest) against a mistress and a master who abuse her. As in Blind Man’s Buff, servants who work together play, plot, and scheme together (FF, 182–91). But what—and whom—are they playing?
Normally, we can count on vous vs. tu to resolve questions of social intercourse. In Confession Follies, not so much; but a brief parenthetical is in order for the language of all the characters. For the most part, and as expected, Mandy addresses her mistress with vous, while Gwynnie answers with tu. Gwynnie uses the courteous vous with “Father Maurice,” aka The-Fool-in-Disguise, and vice versa; and “Father Maurice” says vous to Gwynnie and tu to Mandy. The Fool—whoever he may be—addresses Gwynnie with vous and Mandy with tu; and both of these would be appropriate: the former between noble husband and wife and the latter between master and servant, servant and servant, or servant-playing-master and servant. In MASQUERADE #2, Gwynnie-as-Nun engages the Fool with vous for Fouquet; plus, let’s not forget that anyone would use vous for declarations to the audience. Now, take this curious moment in MASQUERADE #2, when the Fool in Fouquet’s bed swears: Dieu te mauldie / Quant par toy me fault mourir or “God damn you, you’re the one who’s killing me!” (1: 284). Who is talking to whom? Faivre understands the line as an exasperated sotto voce from the Fool-Husband, Fouquet, targeting a poorly concealed Gwynnie-as-Nun (Répertoire, 65). But, unless it’s an improper eruption again, tu would be highly irregular from a well-heeled husband to his wife, and downright rude from a valet to a mistress. Is the remark directed at Mandy? At an obstreperous spectator? At Bozo? Again, the Two-Fool conjecture resolves a great many of the difficulties. Bozo is the Father Maurice Impersonator in MASQUERADE #1; Fouquet is himself in MASQUERADE #2.
Furthermore, any deviation from the linguistic norm can be chalked up to one of these things: an emotional aside by an emotionally overwrought character; a servant’s imitation or mockery of the master or mistress; or anybody’s imitation of Father Maurice’s or the Nun’s politesse. For that last one, it’s logical that even Mandy would vousvoyer Bozo when he’s playing Maurice, and there’s one more thing: a servant breaking through with tu when vous is de rigueur is perfectly in keeping with a character type that is considered innately lowbrow. Readers might be familiar with the convention from Marivaux’s eighteenth-century Game of Love and Chance in which Arlequin can’t manage to keep up the linguistic pretense of elegance for two minutes. When our Fool makes his déclassé boasts about his erections or his rise to the loftiest heights of the afterlife (1: 272, 281, 287), it’s all part and parcel of farce’s usual elitist barb at the foolishness of upwardly mobile servants. And all’s classist well that ends classist well.
As for the unnamed wife, I’ve christened her “Gwynnie” because her opening prayer to Saint Genevieve sounds much like Guinevere’s “Where Are the Simple Joys of Maidenhood?” from Camelot (1: 271, 274). Part victim, part abuser (of Mandy), part adulteress, and part straight woman, Gwynnie bewails from her bed a life marred by domestic violence. Today, we would qualify her as a survivor of marital rape; and, until she dons her nun’s attire, hers is the vexed and vexing role of a supremely tragic figure. Regularly chastened into submission and largely denied even the comforts of a confidante, Gwynnie revisits the cycle of violence upon Mandy and struggles to find solace in the arms of Father Maurice. Her communication is more grammatically elegant than that of the other characters; so, she might be of noble (or nobler) birth. In the masquerades, for instance, her use of vous with “Maurice” is impeccable, as is the “Nun’s” with Fouquet. She can also cite the odd liturgical phrase, be it from her regular attendance at Mass or from all those tête-à-têtes with Father Maurice (the former, an ideal alibi for the latter). But, as with all the dramatis personae, there are anomalies, chief among them: her plot-driven but completely unverisimilar command that Mandy fetch Maurice. Although consonant with the farceur’s sexist view of female sexuality, it strains twenty-first-century credibility that a woman recovering from a recent assault would be in the mood for sex. (Minimally, this would demand that some time elapse, as it will here so that Gwynnie may take charge of her own sexuality [below, § “Sets and Staging”].) Then again, there’s a small underlying hint as to why. She makes a fascinating statement about the condition of her tummy or uterus (la pance) that sounds suspiciously like pregnancy (1: 281). Perhaps the urgency of the rendezvous with the good father is not a sex-seeking act at all but the panic-move of a terrified victim of abuse who must share the news with the father of her bastard child. And that’s not all.
Another anomaly concerns Gwynnie’s intellect. She is patently clever enough to plot MASQUERADE #2. Is she simultaneously stupid enough to fail to recognize the Fool-as-Maurice in MASQUERADE #1? (Unless, of course, she never spends much time looking at Father Maurice’s face.) Faivre contends that the Wife, initially buying the story of her husband’s impending death, “figures out eventually that it’s the Fool in Father Maurice’s clothing and decides to get back at him” (Répertoire, 64–65). But how long is “eventually”? Ultimately, it’s a choice between feminist dramaturgy and, as Faivre intimates, an almost Marriage-of-Figaro moment when a brutalized wife responds to her husband’s first-ever signs of physical tenderness (Répertoire, 65). Once again, the Two-Fool conjecture is clarifying: it’s Bozo-the-Valet manhandling Gwynnie in MASQUERADE #1, and the Valet or Fouquet whom she’s manhandling in MASQUERADE #2. Under that theory, Gwynnie—who is nobody’s fool—handily identifies Bozo as the Maurice Impersonator, which would fuel further outrage against a husband who not only beats her but has now positioned his valet to feel her up. More dispositive still: that scenario finally justifies one of the most bizarre utterances of the play when, during MASQUERADE #1, she tells “Father Maurice” to stop the very pat-downs for which she had purportedly summoned him (1: 280). He’s not Maurice and she knows it. And, best of all, it resolves the question of why a battered wife would be so daft as to cite chapter and verse of Maurice’s caresses in the presence of her abuser: she wouldn’t be. He’s not there. Fouquet is outside. Bottom line for Gwynnie: she does not suffer fools gladly.
The name of our third official character, spoken nine times, is “Mannette,” “Megnette,” or “Mennette,” all diminutives of “Mary,” all denoting a small “hand” or “basket” (if not yet “handcuffs”). I toyed with “Minnie,” “Manon,” and, for the longest time, “Mary-Annette,” owing to the other characters’ efforts to reduce her to a mere “marionette.” But she is no Bergsonian puppet going through motions, no matter how jack-in-the-box-like she pops up with a vengeance (“Laughter,” chap. 2). In the end, I went with “Mary-Amanda,” “Mandy” for short. The Chambermaid might not be fully “loved by God” (< Latin, amanda); but she repels everybody’s manipulations and mansplaining, even as they hector and threaten her with the “dear,” “baby,” and “honey,” reserved for children or servants (ma mye, m’amye). Mandy is scapegoat and soubrette, actress and smart-ass. She’s a worthy forerunner to Molière’s Dorine of Tartuffe and a scene-stealer who lands some of the farce’s funniest lines. Still, for so central a player, she too is inscrutable. We can assume that Mandy is sufficiently churchgoing to trot out a prayer like the tu autem (1: 281); and I take her at her word that Gwynnie beats her (1: 276). But to whom, if anyone, is she loyal?
There is definitely no love lost between maid and mistress. Mandy would have just cause to turn on both boss Fouquet and coworker and/or paramour Bozo. Some Fool or other has arranged for her front-row seat at the grope-fest of her mistress, which might piss off any chambermaid, loyal or disloyal. But could Mandy really be so cruel as to tell Fouquet that Gwynnie wants him dead, thereby all but guaranteeing a vicious retaliation (1: 273; below, note 8)? Faivre and Delepierre see her as starting out on Gwynnie’s side, only to switch to Fouquet’s during MASQUERADE #2 (Répertoire, 65; DLU, 30). But why would she take up violent Gwynnie’s cause? To unite against a common enemy? Or is it, rather, that the voluptuous Mandy has been fouquet-ing around with the master all along? If so, I hasten to emphasize that such relations would have been about as “consensual” as those of Sally Hemings “with” Thomas Jefferson, Carrie Butler “with” Strom Thurmond, or in #7, Bro Job, Pricker-Upper “with” the aster of the house. Such coercion, moreover, would elucidate Mandy’s allusion to what Fouquet has “put her through” (1: 272). While farce customarily pokes fun at the lives of chambermaids, the sad social reality was that female servants were raped by masters and valets alike.2 Mandy’s accent, dialect, and grammar will be crucial to the role: maybe savvier lingo in her conversations with Gwynnie but a sarcastic “slave-speak” with Fouquet, in which she assimilates the politics of the oppressor. (Feel free to change her dialect as you see fit.) For me, the bottom line is that Mandy’s true allegiance lies with her favorite interlocutor: the audience. And that’s whose side she’s on. Ours.
Finally, one might stage a number of nonspeaking characters, starting with the chambermaids, of whom there are clearly several. Depending on the level of wackiness, the real Father Maurice might put in an appearance too. He is part priest, part doctor (Répertoire, 64), and, like his confrères in Brother Fillerup (#6) and Slick Brother Willy (#11), all lover boy. Perhaps, like Willy, he is present at first, only to beat a hasty, half-naked retreat before the action proper begins … which would account for that cassock-disguise conveniently on hand for MASQUERADE #1 (as one was in Confession Lessons [FF, 118]). Or perhaps he has laid healing hands upon a beaten-down Gwynnie so recently that he hasn’t yet left the premises, which would allow for further insanity. Additionally, since a nun’s habit is likewise on hand in Gwynnie’s chamber for MASQUERADE #2, has a sister been offering Gwynnie succor? Or has the nun been succoring Fouquet? Go ahead: go as full-on absurdist as #8, Johnny Palmer. You can’t have too much folly in the Follies.
Language
I reserve for note 16 the corrupt and mind-bogglingly difficult lines that announce MASQUERADE #1. For now, I confine myself to this observation about nonverbal comedy, which often takes a back seat to language per se. On one hand, there are multiple gestural demonstratives like “there he is!” “come here!” or “go there!” contributing to the overall problem of being in two places at once. On the other hand, as in Wife Swap (HD, 305–97), there is a profusion of onomatopoetic emissions of pain or pleasure: the a! of “hey,” “ah,” and “aha”; the rip-roaring clamor of laughter, farting, and sneezing; and the achoo! of esse, esse, esse, esse! or etesecs, which sounds like “etcetera” (1: 272, 284). Corporeal noise is even vaguely liturgical, harkening back to the original farsae or farsurae, an early term for the Kyrie or Sanctus of the Mass (Davis, Farce, 7). Consider, toward the end, Gwynnie-as-Nun’s “we acknowledge thee to be the Lord. All the earth doth worship thee, the everlasting Father.” In lieu of the correct Latin (te aeternum patrem omnis terra veneratur), she twists it into te eternum putrem / omnis terra veneratur (1: 286), which approximates the snotty sexuality of sneezing, veneration, and other venereal activities. The same goes for the obscene transformation of such sacred prayers as the Tu autem (1: 281) and the Te Deum (1: 286–87), the latter associated with deathbed confessions.3 May they all rest in pieces.
Sets and Staging
The sick house is comprised of two bedrooms separated by a common area with a large table. Fouquet’s quarters might be located house left, the “sinister” side, and Gwynnie’s, house right. As was the case in Wife Swap, where I proposed an entire series of alternate endings (HD, 311–17), dramaturgy will clinch what Confession Follies is or is not to be. Its extreme lack of textual clarity invites near limitless artistic freedom in one of the scenically busier farces. As a prelude to Scene 1, I recommend a mimed montage of scenes from a troubled household, including but not limited to Gwynnie’s liaison with Father Maurice, Bozo’s and Mandy’s relationships (sexual or other) with their employers and with each other, Mandy’s unhappy inability to execute contradictory orders (as in Playing Doctor [FF, 200–204]), and above all, Fouquet’s violence. To the extent that the horrific beatings of Gwynnie are stageable at all, they could possibly work as comédie-ballets (FF, #5 and #6); or they might already tease the rise of a dominatrix in a more physiological version of what Natalie Zemon Davis famously called “Women on Top.” Such a mimed overture might also serve to establish some soupçon of the female comity that will be required at the end of the play. Have the women make a silent sisterly pact, fight back, or break free.
In MASQUERADE #1, we’re in the world of physical comedy, here revolving around the Fool’s need for three hands. Whoever is impersonating Father Maurice—Fouquet or Bozo—the comedy, tragedy, or tragicomedy resides in his holding a Bible or rosary in one hand, “healing” Gwynnie with the other, and pawing Mandy with a third one. When the scene shifts to Fouquet’s bedroom for MASQUERADE #2, the positions are materially reversed. It’s the Fool abed now, albeit with an ongoing need for three hands: one for feeling up Mandy, another for any deathbed-related rituals, and a third to defend himself from any attack from Gwynnie-as-Nun (with or without Mandy’s aid). But here’s the kicker: it’s unquestionably Fouquet in bed. Gwynnie-as-Nun repeatedly hails him as such; and she is savvy enough to recognize her own husband. If, however, there are, in fact, two Fools onstage—Fouquet and Bozo—then where’s Bozo?
Of a panoply of possibilities, this is the one that best resolves the issues: give Bozo a motivation to be front and center at MASQUERADE #2, and have him shove Fouquet under a blanket and jump into the bed while the master is still in there!4 From there, Bozo can turn in what he means to be a credible performance of the invalid’s ways. Not only does this clarify the Fool’s curious line about “Gwynnie” killing him (1: 284; above, § “Plot”): that line is now directed at Bozo, who is trying to stifle Fouquet under the covers. This strategy also has the singular advantage of allowing Fouquet to continue to contribute onomatopoetically, but as a constrained lump in the bed. Of course he’s sneezing and choking! He’s suffocating under the covers until—at last—the coup de grâce! Now in league and highly motivated to avenge themselves, Gwynnie and Mandy deactivate the oppressors, tying up one or both with rosary beads and settling the score with a flogging.
Costumes and Props
The stage is littered with three categories of object: comestible medicines (or liquors and wines passing as medicine), plus a well-stocked bar; multiple canes or walking sticks to support locomotion and physical violence, at least one in every room (baseball bats, sticks, rods, rolling pins, etc.); and religious paraphernalia (icons, rosaries, Bibles, and a bottle for holy water that resembles a flask). Fouquet’s sick room is overflowing with chamber pots and soiled cloths, if somewhat less so than the fetid dwelling in Shit for Brains (FF, 258–859); and both bedrooms feature a standing chest or coffre at the foot of each bed. Gwynnie’s chest holds a nun’s costume; and a cassock is lying in the main room, a leftover from prior performances, not necessarily thespian.
Mandy might sport a French maid’s outfit; and Gwynnie and Fouquet are wearing long-sleeved dressing gowns, the latter’s very soiled. Bozo is in butler’s garb, which comes in handy for his Maurice-impersonation; but he should always look maximally foolish with a fool’s cap, which he could forget to remove during MASQUERADE #1. The unholy trio—or unwholesome foursome—is now ready to take it away.
Scholarly References to Copyrighted Materials (in order of appearance and indicated by © within the text)
· “The Simple Joys of Maidenhood.” By Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe. Music Theatre International. https://www.mtishows.com/camelot.
· “Wrigley’s Spearmint Gum [jingle].” By Steve Karmen. ASCAP Work ID: 57001664.
· “Il est de nôtres.” Traditional.
· “Ya Got Trouble.” By Meredith Willson. ASCAP ID: 550000489.
· “Dang Me.” By Roger Miller. BMI Work #275944.
· “Evil Woman.” By Jeffrey Lynne. BMI Work #393757.
· “My Way.” By Paul Anka, Claude François, Jacques Rivaud, and Gilles Thibaut. BMI Work #1044656.
· “And When I Die.” By Laura Nyro. BMI Work #40714.
· “The Rhythm Is Gonna Get You.” By Gloria Estefan and Enrique Garcia. BMI Work #1248618.
· “Two Tickets to Paradise.” By Eddie Money. BMI Work #1564326.
· “Hosanna.” By Andrew Lloyd-Webber and Timothy Rice. ASCAP Work ID: 381488533.
· “The Hallelujah Chorus.” From George Frideric Handel’s Messiah (1741).
· “That’s the Way I Like It.” By Harry Wayne Casey and Rick Finch. BMI Work #1481515.
· “Greensleeves” [“What Child Is This?”]. Traditional ballad.
[Scene 1]
[Lights up on the home of Fouquet and Gwynnie. To the strains of incongruously beautiful music, a mimed flashback might choreograph the household’s troubled history, culminating in Fouquet’s most recent assault on Gwynnie. Lights down and, then, up again to signal time elapsed. Each abed in their separate chambers, Fouquet is fuming and Gwynnie is in prayer, picking up her icons consecutively. Mandy and Bozo stand hand in hand in the main room until a great commotion summons them to Gwynnie and Fouquet, respectively. They look in from the thresholds and return center stage, electing instead to call out their responses to Master and Mistress from the main room.]
The FOOL [BOZO] begins [in song]
You know what they say, folks: Pleasure is as pleasure was, as pleasure was! Easy come, easy go. A fool and his honey are soon parted.5
The WIFE, GWYNNIE
[Oh, Genevieve, Saint Genevieve! It’s Gwynnie here, remember me?] Oh, Genevieve, Saint Genevieve!© Right over there! for all to see: [the great provider! The great provide-her!] Haven’t I put up with enough from that husband of mine? [From now on, I intend to pray to someone else instead!©]
[She grabs a different icon.] Save me, o blessed Virgin. How many times have I implored you to watch over me? Haven’t I put up with enough from that husband of mine? Right over there for all to see!
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
[To Gwynnie] Wherever you are, I can hear you, so you better hold your tongue!
[{To the audience} And that goes for you too, folks! [Shut up!]
The CHAMBERMAID, MANDY
Oh, puh-lease. Don’t you be startin’ in again now, Fouquet! Sir.
GWYNNIE
What’s he on about this time?
[Mandy moves slowly toward the threshold of Fouquet’s bedroom and lingers there.]
MANDY
[To the audience] What? Me hurry? [Check it out, fouques:] He’s got it so bad, he’s gonna bust a gut. Omigod, what a pig! Huffin’ and puffin’ till—watch out!—he’s gonna blow! Just imagine what a victory it would be to get rid of him once and for all. Omigod! There’d be no sin in that, after everything he’s put me through.6
[GWYNNIE
Oh my God! There’d be no sin in that, after everything he’s put me through! If only I could get someone to off him. Vengeance would be mine, sayeth the wife!]
The FOOL [FOUQUET] sneezes
A-a-a-choo!
MANDY
God bless you, sir! [{Sotto voce} And God help you!]
GWYNNIE
Thar’ she blows! Wait for it … [The Fool {Fouquet} sneezes.] That was a big one.
THE FOOL [BOZO]
[To the audience] I got a big one too, by God! Check out how stiff! [Fouquet grabs a stick and is disappointed by the lack of response.]
MANDY
No, seriously: I pray that Jesus succor you.
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
Oh, Mandy?
MANDY
What’s up, sir?7
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
I’m dying here.
MANDY
Now why would you wanna go and do a thing like that?
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
What’s Madame on about?
MANDY
She says if you were six feet under, sir, then, body and soul, she’d be free at last, free at last, good God Almighty, free at last!8
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
[Struggling to rise from bed and brandishing his cane] Screw her! If it weren’t for all those scary folks out there … I’d pop her one in a minute! As if I can’t get up—get it up—for a good pop! And I’d have me a thing or two to say to you too, toots!9
MANDY
Whatchoo talkin’ about?
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
Crazy bitch! I know better than to say anything to you.
[With easy access to the liquor in the main room, the two servants partake and engage in nonlinguistic activities.]
GWYNNIE
Oh, Mandy?
THE FOOL [BOZO]
Chitter, chatter, yakkety-yakkety-yak!© [Gwynnie bangs her cane.] On your mark, get set … And she’s off!
MANDY
I’ll be right there.
GWYNNIE
By all means, move at a glacial pace, you know how that thrills me. And get your fat ass in here now!
[Mandy heads to Gwynnie’s bedroom while Bozo finds a corner in the main room where he indulges in food and drink.]
[Scene 2]
[In Gwynnie’s bedroom]
[GWYNNIE]
Get over here, girl! Closer! Do you or do you not remember the time that son of a bitch, Fouquet, beat the crap outta me and chased me all the way down the street with a wooden stick?10 Damn fool!
MANDY
Rings a bell.
GWYNNIE
Damn! And I’m getting it from all sides now? Cuts like a knife every time.
Sweet Jesus—and you too, Saint Genevieve—[it’s Gwynnie here, remember me?©]—this I pray: deliver me from that fool—and this whole damn corpus—once and for all and make me a widow!
Now, tell me, girl: where was it that he hit me again?
Mandy?
MANDY
On the side, ma’am.
GWYNNIE
On the side is right! [And whose side are you on anyway?]
Now, get outta here and go tell that nasty prick, Fouquet, that, if I die from that beating, I’m going to Heaven and he’s going straight to hell. Guilty, guilty, guilty for all eternity! And you be sure to tell him I’m gonna sic the law on him too if he doesn’t let me outta this thing.
MANDY
I’ll get on that right away. [She doesn’t move.]
[{To the audience} What am I? Maid to order here?]
GWYNNIE
And, by all means, take your time.
[Fouquet erupts in another coughing fit.] Don’t tell me he hasn’t choked to death yet. He really outdid himself that time. Somebody oughta stuff a sock in it.
MANDY
And you know very well he’s in bed, poor bastard. All laid up. Down for the count. Not a friend in the world to comfort him in his hour of need.11
GWYNNIE
His hour of need? Ha! The hell you say, girl! Now, get out of here already and go tell Father Maurice to get a move on. [Mandy still doesn’t move.]
Now! Tell him to get his ass back over here pronto and—oh, sister!—frock me up. Noon sharp. Go on! What the hell are you waiting for? [Help me with my makeup!]
A little hands-on healing will do a body good, as I’ve known for quite some time now. But you know what?
MANDY
What’s that, ma’am?
GWYNNIE
Tell him to be sure not to forget the holy water. His little flask o’ Saint Pauli, girl.12
MANDY
I’ll be sure to give him the message.
GWYNNIE
Go on, then, get out of here! But you know what?
MANDY
What’s that, ma’am?
GWYNNIE
Not one word outta you to that prick!
MANDY
Which prick would that be, ma’am?
GWYNNIE
That nasty shithead, Fouquet!
MANDY
[Oh, that shithead!] Thanks for clearing that up for me.
[After another coughing fit, Fouquet proceeds to the main room.]
GWYNNIE
Let him stew in his own juices till he chokes! If only the gout would rot his damn joints and muzzle him for good! Now, be sure to tell Father Maurice exactly what I told you. I’ve got a reputation to consider, you know.
[Exit Mandy]
[Scene 3]
[In the common area]
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
Hey, hey, hey! Where does Mandy think she’s going? Somethin’ fishy goin’ on?13
MANDY
Can’t stop now. Don’t have time.
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
I say: Hey, hey, hey! Where does Mandy think she’s going?
MANDY
If I take too long, I’ll get in trouble with Madame.
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
And hey, hey, hey! Where does Mandy think she’s going? Somethin’ fishy goin’ on? [And, by the way, how’s tricks?]
MANDY
If I weren’t so scared o’ gettin’ smacked around, I’d have me a thing or two to tell you about what’s goin’ down around here.
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
Speak up, girl! Go on, speak!
MANDY
[You wanna know how’s tricks?] It’s the mistress. She’s hurtin’ in her lady parts.14 I gotta go fetch Father Maurice so he can fix her up.
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
Is that so?
MANDY
[She grabs a bottle of beer and makes the sign of the cross.] And, he’s supposed to have his flask o’ Saint Pauli on him too.
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
A flask, is it? I bet he’s fillin’ up right now.
MANDY
All the way.
[THE FOOL, {FOUQUET}
Knockin’ back a few.
MANDY
Ave Maria, gratia plena. Knockin’ up just one!]15
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
[He sings.] Au mentibus, aux fessibus, au sexybus! Et glou et glou et glou et glou et glou …© One word gets out about this—if he spills—is there ever gonna be trouble! [With a capital “T” and that rhymes with “P” and that stands for Fool!©]
MANDY
[{Sotto voce} “P” does not stand for “fool,” fool!]
In the name of Saint Johnson, Master! She said I cain’t say nothin’ to nobody and that I gots to step on it and fetch Monsieur right away.
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
Not if I beat her at her own game and pull the old switcheroo.
MANDY
Whatchoo talkin’ about?
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
Nothing up my sleeve and … abracadabra! Magician, heal thyself! I’ll turn the tables on her. Observe. [He grabs a staff, taps it on the table, does a quick Tramp routine à la Charlie Chaplin, and beats it on the table.]
MANDY
Is that before or after I get the crap beat outta me?
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
She comes after you and—! Might makes right! That’s my rule of thumb. Now get back in there! Go cry your eyes out. Do a whole production: “the Devil take you” and what-have-you. Nothing to be scared of. But I’m not fooling around and—. In the name of all that’s holy, I’ve got a few tricks of my own up my sleeve for the good Father and—. Just you watch: [No more fooling around! Wait for it …]
[After Fouquet locates a cassock, he interrupts Bozo’s repast, grabs his valet by the scruff of the neck, and conveys gesturally to a resentful Bozo that the Valet must transform himself into Father Maurice.]
[Presto change-o!] I’ll take care o’ Maurice, all right. Now, get back in there and tell her I swore on a stack o’ Bibles that, unless he hears my confession, no more Fouquet! We’ll soon see who’s fouquing over whom under my roof! Home sweet home, my ass! [{Menacingly} Unless you’re expecting me to play the role myself.]16
MANDY
I do believe, sir, that, in this whole town, there’s no dirtier trickster than you.
[{To the audience} Fouquin’ awesome. Uh-huh.]
[As Mandy rehearses in mime for MASQUERADE #1, Fouquet continues to prepare Bozo with Bible, rosary, and a flask of holy water.]
[Scene 4]
[Mandy ensures that her histrionic rush to the front door is seen by both Gwynnie and Fouquet. Bozo lingers in the main room to observe; and Fouquet lingers menacingly behind Mandy.]
GWYNNIE
[Calling out to Mandy] And where the hell do you think you’re going?
MANDY
And God only knows. Fouquet done come and gone.
GWYNNIE
If only it had been to the gallows—hanged by the neck until he was dead—and drowned at the bottom of the sea. But I said: Where do you think you’re going?
MANDY
And God only knows. Fouquet done come and gone.
GWYNNIE
Is that so?
MANDY
[Tearfully] Unto the Lord, he done commend his spirit! That’s what they say.
GWYNNIE
Oh, gimme a break. And you’re crying about it? I swear! In the name of Saint Benedict, [they ought to take a rope and hang him! Or skin him alive!©] If only he’d died ten years ago! No skin off my nose. Things would have been a damn sight better around here for me. So, gimme a break, I said, and get over here! Did you talk to Father Maurice or what?
MANDY
Yes, ma’am, he’s right behind me. He said he’d be right with you as soon as he heard the master’s confession. Should be along any minute now.
GWYNNIE
Aha! Just what the doctor ordered!
MANDY
[Loudly, as if Bozo has missed his cue] I say, look! Here he comes. Quick and dirty. Even broke a sweat. [{To the audience} Like a pig. Again.]
[Scene 5: Masquerade #1]
[In Gwynnie’s bedroom]
The FOOL [Bozo] puts on his priest disguise [and, with a big shove from Fouquet, makes his entrance into Gwynnie’s bedroom. Still abed, Gwynnie sees Fouquet exit the house and position himself outside her window.]
Howdy-doo, there, sister, howdy-doo, there, missy. How are we holding up today, babe?17
GWYNNIE
Fine for now, “Father,” but fear today, spawn tomorrow.
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
[Fondling his rosary and Mandy] ’Tis but the cares of this world, babe. Howdy-doo, there, sister, howdy-doo, there, missy. I best get to work on you right away. [{To Mandy} And—oh, sister!—I’ll plow your fuckin’ field any time!]
GWYNNIE
And not a moment too soon. You’ve been a very bad boy, you big ape, and—I give you fair warning—you deserve a spanking. Now quit fooling around, Father Maurice, and watch those magic hands!18
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
[Sotto voce] I wish to God me and the chambermaid was out bushwhackin’ in the woods right now. Back in the saddle, takin’ them reins, groomin’ that horsey!19 [He tries to usher Mandy out the door.]
GWYNNIE
That’s quite enough of that, Father Maurice. What? Leaving so soon?
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
Tell me, Madame, where does it hurt?
GWYNNIE
Right up here, around my tummy.
[What does he need? A road map?]
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
[Attempting to palpate Gwynnie] Just a little bit above the thigh?
GWYNNIE
Knock it off, Father Maurice. [Damn fool! If thine thigh offend me, fouque it out!] [She “accidentally” knees him.]
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
[Aside, from his spot outside the window] Good luck curin’ that!
GWYNNIE
Oops! Sorry about that.
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
[He tries again while pressing against Mandy.] It’s here, right? Feel how stiff.
GWYNNIE
[She knees Bozo again.] Oops! You’re on the wrong side! Now quit rubbing me the wrong way!
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it, missy, Jeez! But, sometimes, when the good doctor lays hands on a little lady, you gotta go for it, you know?
[Groping Mandy again] I swear: Whenever I’m around you, I’m—ten-hut!—hard as a rock and—scooby, dooby, doo!—brave as a Swiss!20
MANDY
[To the audience] [And who could remain neutral in the presence of that?]
Would you listen to Father Maurice! That’s some service! [He’ll be all over the anus dei in a minute!] Et tu autem, Padre?
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
Got my finger on the [w]hole problem right here!
GWYNNIE
Jesus Christ! How very subtle of you.
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
As if you’d know better than the doctor! The world’s greatest homeopath!
GWYNNIE
A real doctor of souls would be homeopathing me like crazy by now—damn straight—as usual. Bleed me two or three times till I’m red as a lobster. And then flip me over.
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
[Loudly, as he strains to hear] Say what? Say who?
[THE FOOL {BOZO-as-MAURICE}
Say what? Say who?]
GWYNNIE
[Gwynnie compromises Bozo’s disguise, flips herself over and farts.] Say you, Father Maurice. You know: when you were attending to me.21
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
[Committed to proving his success to the voyeuristic Fouquet] Shut up! Shut up! Evil woman!© I’ll thank you to abide by the teachings of the Church, madam—I swear!—and I’m leaving right now.
GWYNNIE
Oh, [I get it.] I’m not afraid if my chambermaid hears. She finds out everything anyway. Like when you were wrapped around me so tight, I could hardly breathe? And you were saying: “Don’t worry, I’ll make a handmaid outta you yet. You mind your ménage, I’ll mind my ménage-à-trois.”22
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
[Loudly] Say what? Say who?
[THE FOOL {BOZO-as-MAURICE}
Say what? Say who?]
GWYNNIE
Say, you, Father Maurice.
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
It must’ve slipped my mind.
GWYNNIE
It was that day Fouquet was all laid up in front of the fire. And, then, after a bit, you came creeping on in to lay hands on me. In bed. Don’t tell me you don’t remember.
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
No way! I swear.
GWYNNIE
Careful! You know what God does to liars. Wow.
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
But what about poor Fouquet, sick that he is? I really feel his pain.
MANDY
I’m sure sorry as hell about it!
GWYNNIE
[To Mandy] Sorry? You can take your pity and shove it up your ass! If he drowns at the bottom of the Seine, you think it’s some great loss? Small potatoes. In fact, I say we go look in on him right now and play a little trick of our own. On him. [Burnabout is fair play.]
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-MAURICE]
You do that. I’ll be off now to say Mass while you two go see Fouquet.
[From outside Gwynnie’s window, Fouquet notices Bozo’s departure preparations. He hastens back to his bed.]
GWYNNIE
Adieu, Monsieur, [go with God].
THE FOOL [BOZO]
God, my ass! We’ll soon see what He’s got in store for you!
[Exit Bozo in great haste to Fouquet’s bedroom, where he dives under the covers with his master, whom he will impersonate.]
[Scene 6]
[In Gwynnie’s bedroom]
GWYNNIE
You know what? How about we dress me up like a nun? And be quick about it, girl. I’ll go do a whole lamentation number on Fouquet.
[Mandy rummages through the large chest at the foot of Gwynnie’s bed. She might even head for the wings to consult briefly with the props master before returning with a nun’s habit.]
MANDY
Here you go. This one oughta do the trick. Fits like a glove. Tight as a nun’s ass.
[To the audience] What? She’ll be kickin’ that habit in no time!
[Scene 7: Masquerade #2]
[In Fouquet’s bedroom]
THE FOOL[s]
A-A-A-A-choo!
[Enter Mandy and Gwynnie-as-Nun.]
GWYNNIE-as-Nun
Bless you, Fouquet.
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-FOUQUET]
Madame, right back at … at … at-choo! [After both men sneeze again, Bozo delivers an over-the-top deathbed performance.]
GWYNNIE-as-NUN
And now, the end is near and so you face the final curtain.© You might have a care, Monsieur, for your immortal soul in the great hereafter.
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
[Sotto voce] Et tu, Mandy? [Bozo attempts repeatedly to stifle him.] I’m dying here. Again, God damn it!—and you’re the one who’s killing me!23
O Lord, why have you forsaken me?
GWYNNIE-as-NUN
Lord, have mercy! Careful, sir, lest you rot in hell. [Semper et aeternum.]
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-FOUQUET]
Hell shmell! It’s all Greek-style to me. I’m not scared o’ dyin’ and I don’t really care!©24 [More sneezing ensues.]
MANDY
Bless you, Fouquet.
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-FOUQUET]
Bless you, Mandy!
MANDY
I am your humble servant. Totally [fuckin’] servicing you all these years.25
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-FOUQUET]
[With one hand on Mandy’s belly and the other on the “Nun’s”] And when I die, and when I’m dead, dead and gone … There’ll be one child born in this world to carry on.© [Now, carry on, God damn it!]26
MANDY
Of all your chambermaids, I’m the crème de la crème.
[Increasingly aroused by Mandy, Bozo huffs and puffs while Fouquet flails.]
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-FOUQUET]
[To Mandy] Jesus H. Christ on a cracker, you got that right.
[To Gwynnie-as-Nun] Say, Sister, isn’t it about time we got to my Last Will and … [Gwynnie makes an abrupt move on his lower torso and his voice becomes quite high-pitched.]
… Testicle?
GWYNNIE-as-NUN
Overact much? [Now, shove it, clown!] And I’ll thank you, sir, to take a more respectful tone when invoking our Lord Jesus, who died on the cross for your sins to redeem His people.
THE FOOL[s]
[The Jesus imitation fails to get a laugh.] Jesus H. Christ on a cracker! Still dying here!
GWYNNIE-as-NUN
And what, pray tell, do you propose to do about it? The end is near, remember? Time to face the final curtain.© Ever give a second thought, to your immortal soul?
THE FOOL[s]
Treachery, thy name is woman!
GWYNNIE-as-NUN
And, if you don’t get it just right, my friend … Has it never occurred to you that the Evil One is about to catch you in some bad acting? The Devil is gonna get you, [the Devil is gonna get you!©]
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-FOUQUET]
But isn’t Father Maurice still here, that I might receive absolution?
GWYNNIE-as-NUN
I’m perfectly capable of taking care of your last confession myself. If you’re willing, that is. And when you die, [and when you’re dead, dead, and gone,©] the glory of Paradise awaits.
[{Aside} All dogs go to Heaven!]
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-FOUQUET]
And good night, nurse. By the way, Miss Nun, where shall I be laid to rest?
GWYNNIE-as-NUN
Smack in the middle of the convent. [We put on a great funeral there.]
[{To the audience} And, you know: I’ll bring a date. I’ve got two tickets to Paradise! Gonna pack my bags and leave tonight!©]
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-FOUQUET]
And have Father Maurice throw in an extra gaudeamus or two.
[Aside] He’ll sing like a canary, all right. The service to end all servicing.
Sing laudamus te, benedicimus te, adora-a-a-mus te!
He sings
Hosanna, hey-sanna©—a—a—achoo!
GWYNNIE-as-NUN
Thou sneezest? And thy snot spilleth upon the ground? Et in nostrila pax: pax hominibus.
MANDY
Tibi omnes angeli bisexualis. [Gloria—I’m walkin’ on egg-shell-sis Deo around here!]
The earth moved. The angels wept [in Heaven on high! And he could at least get a Kleenex.]
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-FOUQUET]
Jesus flippin’ Christ! Who’s gonna be higher up in Heaven than me? I’ll be a count up there, or a duke, or a pope. Maybe even an emperor: king of kings!
GWYNNIE-as-NUN
[And, Lord of Lords!©] Have a care for your Creator, I implore you! Confess. Say it: “Bless me, Father, for I have—. Go on. [She grabs a soiled cloth near the chamber pot and wipes his face.] Make your peace. Pray to God and the Virgin Mary and Saints Betty and Veronica that—.27
THE FOOL [BOZO-as-FOUQUET]
And don’t forget Father Maurice’s piece!28
[{To the audience} What is this? The Shroud of Urine?]
GWYNNIE-as-NUN
And don’t you forget every blessed saint in the firmament. And don’t have a cow.
[Aside] Not even the sense God gave a flea! He can’t even remember his damn lines.
[She tosses the filthy cloth over Bozo’s face again and with Mandy’s help, she wraps it so tightly that he gags, coughs, and sneezes. The two women then grab a second filthy cloth and brusquely remove the bedcovers to reveal a scrunched-up Fouquet. They repeat the procedure and haul both men out of bed.]
Enough! Ho-sanna, hey-sanna, sanna, sann-heave ho!©
MANDY
Heave ho-ho-ho! Best idea she’s had yet!
GWYNNIE
[And, once and for all, shove it clowns!] Adieu, Fouquet.
THE FOOL [BOZO as himself again]
Adieu, Mandy. [He rushes off.]
GWYNNIE
[To Fouquet] You’re on your own now.
[The two women twist Fouquet in his blanket and shove him out of the bedroom and into the common area.]
MANDY
Adieu, Fouquet.
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
Adieu, Mandy.
MANDY
He’s already pale as a sheet. Why, I do believe he’s been fasting.29
[BOTH WOMEN TOGETHER]
The two scream [as both women kick Fouquet out of the house and into the street.]
Adieu! and go Fouquet yourself!
[Scene 8]
[In the street]
THE FOOL [FOUQUET]
Adieu already, God damn it, and to hell with all of you!
Adieu, milords, and pay attention! [Take it all in because—there oughta be a law! Drumroll, please:] Don’t take the law into your own hands! Take ’em to—. Oh, screw it! [A man who is his own lawyer has a fouquet for a client!]
Trickery, thy name is woman! Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on … And to thine own self be screwed!
[There’s no Fouquet like an old Fouquet.
Now Fouque you!]
The end!30
[Possible closing music.]31