Act I Scene I
SCENE: The Castle, Crystal Palace Road. The local undertaker and his companions are at the bar talking about Kevin.
Enter Rosen Krantz, in finest fettle.
RK: Alas poor Kevin, I know him, Hora-a-atishoo
But what’s wrong with him is hard to aa-tishoo
(Sniffs) Excuse me…
This troubled Prince of Denmark Hill
Is really going through the mill.
(Blows nose)
Born one stop short of Peckham Rye,
He was the apple of his mother’s aa-aa-tishoo
Christ’s wounds! (Blows nose again)
(Aside, with a darkened look) An allergy has by the winds been blown my way,
A summer gift from Rye Common’s hay,
By the son of York made gay and golden
Against this Castle’s forbidding grey.
(Approaching Undertaker and his companions at the bar)
Head we now toward a winter of discontent
With our book-nosed Kevin blindfold and headbent?
Undertaker (bringing spade down heavily on bar):
By all the harvest hay that’s nonnie-no
The ingrate dungmonger even denies Ophelia’s trow.
If our Queenie were not so embosomed by her tiresome whelp
Her new husband might better be inclined to help.
RK: Impotence has infected all their wedded joy
And daily they wonder what shall befall the boy.
A sleepless tempest scours out his skull, enraging his softening brain.
It has been this way e’er since his father – his new father’s brother – was slain aa-tishoo
Ah, me!
aa-tishoo (Wipes nose and blows noisily)
Undertaker: Sire, I prithee control your wild, contagious sneeze
Ere its engerm-ed particles bring this rotten state to its knees.
And though I never speak ill of the dead
I fear my timeless business may have a busy time ahead.
RK: I beg forgiveness, please, your point is well taken…atishoo, aa-a-atishoo
Undertaker: Indeed my pint is well taken and, taken well, stands empty; it’s kind of you to say,
And as it please you, sire, me and my fond companions here are all drinking IPA.
RK (Sneezes violently, collapses on floor and expires)
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* Latest result: Dulwich Hamlet FC 1: Chipsted 1
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