[Scene: A bedchamber, where Lord Royksar, a sickly old man, lies bedridden. Zashaznon, the court enchanter, Prince Nornivvus, heir to the throne, his wife Elzera, a doctor, the lady Grenella, and a few others stand round him.]
Nornivvus:
I heartily have hopes that you will get well as soon as possible, Lord Royksar.
Royksar:
Thank you, Nornivvus. But I fear I am going cold. I am weak. It is a curse upon me.
Nornivvus: A curse, you say?
[Enter Prince Razagos, brother of Nornivvus, husband of Grenella]
Razagos:
My lady, I greet you.[kisses Grenella's hand] Royksar, are you feeling better?
Royksar:
No. I am still in pain. [Razagos walks over to Royksar's bed]
Razagos:
Have you discovered the nature of the ailment yet, doctor?
Doctor:
It is a wicked curse. It is wretched witchery.
Royksar:
I feel weaker. Listen to me! If I die now-
Doctor:
You will not die, my lord.
Grenella:
You can't!
Royksar[moaning]:
Please! Help!
Zashaznon:
Wait, doctor! He needs our help, quickly!
Doctor[examining Royksar again]:
What- no! How can this be?
Royksar:
What is it?
Doctor[panicking]:
I am afraid that I was wrong. He is going, fast. I am sorry.
Royksar[coughing, voice fading]:
Let me speak. I have lived a long life. I have had my failures. But listen- please!
Nornivvus:
What is it?
Royksar[very weakly]:
My young prince, there is a plot.
Nornivvus:
A plot? What? Don't go! Don't go!
Royksar[fading,coughing]:
A plot to betray us all. The darkness..... demons..... tell your father.... danger....
Nornivvus:
Royksar? What! Pull yourself together!
Zashaznon:
It is too late. He is dead.
Monday, July 5, 2010
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