PLAYLET

A Tragedy of the King

December 1, 2022 | Issue II | Ritwik Chaudhary 

At the rehearsal space. Stage left, at the front, a large window facing a view of grey clouds and nothingness. In the front on stage right, an antique table. Towards the wing on stage right, a large medieval door. 

Abhijit wears a grey cloak over a white gown. He sits on one of the two chairs that are placed centre stage. Deep, who wears a black gown, paces across the stage. 

Deep: All this trouble. For what? Is it worth it? No! An actor needs praise. How many people were in the audience at the last show? Five? One of them was our own. We've tried everything. We've tried to make them cry, we've tried to make them laugh. We've tried the farce. Do you know what they call us? A bunch of clowns. As though it is undignified to be a clown. We should go back to the circus. We are respected there.

Abhijit: (Standing up.) Patience is the call of the hour. It is a virtue. Yet, the burden is unbearable. (Pause.) I wonder if I had not made a mistake? 

Deep: What kind of mistake? 

Abhijit: I shall never be able to repay the debt. 

Deep: You owe me sixty rupees. 

Abhijit: Yet, I feel nothing, no guilt, no shame. It brings me to the conclusion that, perhaps, man is a rotten lot.

Deep: It is, therefore, no injustice that our lives are what they are. 

Abhijit: It is logical to carry on with our lives this way. Without change. And yet, here we are. Dreaming of hope. 

Deep: Dreaming a strange dream. 

Abhijit: Yet, dreaming.

Deep: What are we dreaming about? 

Abhijit: A land where one is free and prosperous.

Deep: A land where one may sing, without fear and ridicule. 

Abhijit: Where everyone…where I have a house to live in and a car. 

Deep: And a beautiful wife.

Abhijit: It is useless. One ought to believe only that which is true. 

Deep: Ah! What do we do now? 

Abhijit: I…I don't know. 

Deep: What do you know?

Abhijit: It is true. What do I know? Socrates thought the same way. 

Deep: You're not a philosopher.

Abhijit: No, I am not. (Hesitates.) I am Abhijit. 

Deep: I am Deep. 

Abhijit: I must be someone, since I am here. 

Deep: Who are you? 

Abhijit: Who are you? 

Deep: (Snubs.) I refuse to answer. 

Silence.

Abhijit: We are actors. What do we do now? 

Deep: There's a play we can perform. It's by a great, but forgotten playwright. 

Abhijit: Shakespeare? 

Deep: No, but from that age.

Abhijit: Ah! A Forgotten genius, a legend lost to time. One day one wakes up and asks: "What have I lived for? Have I been true to myself and my early resolve? Did I live truly, or not at all? " One wonders, looking into the depth of one's soul. Questioning…then…the devil…arrives and says: "You shall know the answer if you solve this riddle." The riddle of eternity, of eternal doubt and fire, of passion and fury, of wine. The riddle he asks is this: "How does one know that one speaks the truth?" Then, he disappears. Only to return for the answer. The answer one gives is: "One does not know the truth". Behold! Everything vanishes. One can no longer be the same. Or recognise oneself in one's actions and words. Nothing feels right, yet one carries on with a burden on one's shoulders. (Pause.) It is fathomable that one should be forgotten. 

Deep: Or left behind.

Abhijit: Be non-existent.

Deep: What must we do if it doesn't matter? 

Abhijit: Nothing. As you said.

Deep: We have to do something. 

Abhijit: What does a man do? How may he live this life about which he knows nothing? He must act. It is here that the artist is born. It is here that he witnesses eternity. 

Deep: What does a man have to do with eternity? Life is busy enough. Yet, one does not stop believing in higher things. 

Abhijit: It is life that is empty of substance, and which never fills. 

Deep: But we must live, and fill our lives with something or the other, some deed that will give us some sort of purpose. 

Abhijit: An illusion through which one sees the world. A play. Life has a meaning, even if momentarily. 

Deep: What would life be without this trick man plays upon himself. 

Abhijit: Questions. Having no answer.

Deep: What do we do now? 

Abhijit: Let me see…we can solve a crossword puzzle, or play a game, or perform the play.

Deep: Let's perform the play. There is nothing else to do.

Abhijit: Let us then perform the play by a great but forgotten playwright from the age of Shakespeare.

Fade out. 

Abhijit is now playing the King, while Deep is playing the Minister. We see Abhijit seated on one of the two chairs on either side of the table, placed horizontally at center stage. A sword is placed on the table. Deep stands across the table. 

Deep: His highness! 

Abhijit: You are here. I was expecting you. 

Deep: Me?

Abhijit: What news do you bring your king? 

Deep: I am his highness' servant. 

Abhijit: You are this god-forsaken country's minister. 

Deep: You are absolutely right there. But it need not be so bad. It is beautiful, at certain places. In the North. (After a moment.) South too. 

Abhijit: Do not make me wait. 

Deep: It is bad news. I beg you, king of kings, second to nobody, who rules the sky even as he resides on Earth, to forgive my insolence. I am humble, and I speak the truth. It is not fiction, as told by an actor who entertains, and in his own way, presents a false vision of reality; but it is the chaste truth. 

Abhijit: Are these a politician's words? 

Deep: Yes, unfortunately. To be a good politician one ought to be a bad philosopher. Therefore, I am not a philosopher either. 

Abhijit: Philosophy? Should I also abstain from such corrupt subjects? 

Deep: Certainly. 

Abhijit: Banish, then, the philosopher from the country. Let him wander the desert. He will prove himself to be useful this way. 

Deep: Noted. 

Abhijit: You were saying. 

Deep: The news is that our neighbouring kingdom has declared war against us. 

Abhijit: Is that so? That bastard, William. I knew he would do such a thing. Get the army ready. I will invade his kingdom. 

Deep: He has already invaded yours. He advances towards the capital. 

Abhijit: (Stammering.) You mean here? 

Deep: You moved the capital North, near the mountains. You said it is a beautiful place, and that you would like to live there. But you didn't. 

Abhijit: It has proven itself to be a strategic error. 

Deep: Hardly.

Abhijit: Can't we change it again? 

Deep: We can. After the war. 

Abhijit: (Looking around him.) The day has finally arrived when I may show the world that I'm a hero. Ever since I was a boy, I knew I was born for greatness. I waited, yet there was no sign from God. What could I do? I was sad for a while, but I was still a king. I couldn't afford to be that way. Would you have done the same if you were a king? 

Deep: I could never be the king. 

Abhijit: That's funny. That's what I had thought too! 

Deep: No. One is born a king. It is an intrinsic quality. 'Genius' comes from the word which means 'form' in Latin. It is a quality, a unique type. One must already be a king. 

Abhijit: I wonder, who is my friend? I am alone. (Pause.) It is impossible to be a king and have friends at the same time. My first wife is dead. I miss her. Another's opinion doesn't matter. I know the truth now. (Stands.) I am a king! A lion! My enemies shall despair my courage in battle! (Picks up the sword.) I cannot stop now. Forward. Get up. (Stops.) Why are you still here? 

Deep: There is one more thing. 

Abhijit: (Points the sword at him.) Do you question my authority? 

Deep: No, I could never think that way. It is about your subject. The people are getting impatient. They expect to hear from you. Or, at least, see you. It will give them the strength to keep going. 

Abhijit: Why can't they keep going on their own? 

Deep: They need you, your highness. These matters may seem petty, but they are politically advantageous. 

Abhijit: The herd? Do you insult me? 

Deep: They have begun to rebel. 

Abhijit: Let me see the faces of these rebels. 

Deep: It shall be done. 

Abhijit: Why did they do it? 

Deep: There is something about a revolution. It is not important. 

Abhijit: Revolution? 

Deep: These are rumours. Like the ones they spread about your wife, Suzanne. All this talk has no foundation, your highness, no legs to stand on. 

Silence. Abhijit places the sword on the table. He walks to the window. 

Abhijit: (Looking outside the window.) Suppose it were true? I see from this chamber a reflection of the wood in the lake. I see boats. The works of Man and Nature seem to be an image of the real thing. What is it? An image of reality? Is my throne also a reflection of something? Perhaps, these boats signify some sort of essence. (Turns.) I want to know, what is the meaning of all this? 

Deep: The soul, your highness. 

Abhijit: What is that? 

Deep: The soul is the essence of the thing, the reality behind the image. 

Abhijit: Can it change? 

Deep: No, your highness. The soul is eternal, even as things around us and even ourselves and our bodies change. 

Abhijit: (Looks outside.) I see the sky. It is peaceful. It is perfect as it is. I feel you are right. These are but fables. Rumours and stories which have nothing to do with reality. However, in this lonely castle the world appears to have no such thing as a soul, while the wood, the clock-tower, the house by the lake where there is a boat behind the green, the yellow and white lights of the city, all appear to be real, and have no need for something to transcend it. I see a fisherman. He calls out to someone in the distance. Could it be, that all this is a shadow of something else, a ghost? It frightens me. It must, therefore, have a higher meaning. (Walks back to the table.) But I digress. If this revolution that you speak of turns out to be magically implanted in the hearts and minds of the people by some demon hidden from sight, what then must be done? 

Deep: It is common knowledge that it is impossible that a revolution should occur. However, in the situation that it does occur, by the force of some mysterious phenomenon, it can be safely said that the revolution will be quashed, its meaning distorted, while the revolutionaries themselves will be imprisoned. 

Silence. Abhijit's shoulders drop. He is lost in thought, although he is unconscious of the thought itself and its meaning. He looks at the sword lying on the table. Deep observes him. After a moment. 

Deep: The king seems to be thinking deeply about something. 

Abhijit: No. I had recalled something. (Pause.) Can I trust you? 

Deep: With my life. 

Abhijit: Sometimes, I sit alone in this chamber, like a prisoner in a dungeon. At such moments, I do not feel like a king. I merely sit. I do nothing else. Who is a king? Who has the power and will to be called a king? For only divinity bestows such a grave and deep virtue. I no longer know the meaning of my divine place on earth. How must I know the answer to the most important question that has ever been asked, that for which one may sacrifice one's life? The question is this: How must one know he is the king, that he deserves to be the king, that, all other differentials being equal, none other than him could be, and even should be, the king? That the ultimate truth about man, the answer to his yearning and his sense of history, lies in the consciousness by which one comes to realise its answer, which is that it is the divine duty of the king to rule over the people. For this reason alone, it would be right to assume the revolutionaries have committed a sin. What is justice? It is weighed on the scale of eternity, while life, values and knowledge furnish an image of our place in time, what we come to call as Conscience. Thus, one doesn't know the truth, and cannot condemn even a sinner. However, since these dogs have chosen this path, they will face the executioner's knife: to each one his due. 

Deep: It will be done. However, it will be wise to give the people a warning first, to show them the mirror. Our action will, therefore, appear as the weeding out of undesirables, and will put the blame on the revolutionaries for the tragedies of the epoch, and will not be a stain upon his highness' authority. It will be judicious to prepare a speech through which the king may address the people with the most urgent issues at hand, rather than striking down the enemy at once. 

Silence, broken by a soft humming from outside the room. 

Abhijit: A speech? What do I say? It's been so many years, lived in a silent sorrow. I have never faced hardship, but have lived in comfort. Yet, I am a human being. I cannot help but feel confused at this prospect. What do I say to them? Where do I begin? I am a king, but I cannot be a god. I cannot answer what I don't know. What if they don't understand? They will not be convinced. Finally, they shall ask questions. I have no answer. (Pause.) Should I raise this question? Who am I? I forget, I no longer understand it. Perhaps, I have put the question behind me, or I don't know how to answer it. How does one express himself? To say a word. In place of nothingness. If there is no answer, then this whole business is a fraud, a lie told to keep oneself busy in the greater scheme of things, a picture which one grasps momentarily as a flash of lightning, and spends his whole life with its knowledge. Thus, all life, all knowledge, and all our works amount to nothing. The world is a dream. (Silence. Abhijit moves the sword. The humming is heard again.) Tell them to forget about me. It is enough that they know I am their king. Everything else is an illusion. 

Deep: His highness is right to assume that nothing needs to be said. These aren't ordinary times. The king's apprehension is justified. (Begins pacing across the stage.) How can one think in this hollow circumstance? The air of these chambers is a proof of my hypothesis. There is nothing to differentiate the air from that of another place. Yet, it is suffocating, and one cannot live here without getting impatient. His highness will agree with me that change is not only inevitable, but also necessary. However, change is only an apparent quality of things, for all things remain the same and are fixed in their course. His highness is the guiding light, the eternal pole star of the world. Thus, to change oneself even in the face of death is a grave error. (Stops pacing. Pause.) Therefore, the logical action in a world that is changing is to firmly hold on to one's ground, even if it means to lose one's life or that which one loves most dearly. For this reason, it is my opinion that his highness is right in his position with regard to the people. The king must not submit to the people's demands. Indeed, the king must be even more ruthless than before. 

There is a knock on the door. Deep walks to the door and opens it. He talks to a man, who is not seen. 

Abhijit: It is a messenger. He seems to bring an important message. What could it be? I wonder if this simple news has fulfilled what my trustworthy ministers have failed to do, that is, to speak the truth. I have been plagued by falseness all my life, these simple words of truth shall bring me comfort. It doesn't matter if it is a terrible news. What is at stake in this circumstance? Life itself or something greater? On the path of Truth, if a man should ever walk it, lies but mirages of knowledge, power, passion, and beauty, that which gives life meaning, but Truth is not found there. From this terrible fate I have been spared. Yet, all great men must walk on such a path, and I find myself lately being pulled in this direction. I know, better than anyone else, being a king, that Truth doesn't exist. What remains of life? Why live? To a king such uncertainties shouldn't matter, yet these questions occupy my thoughts. I am surrounded by half-truths. I wish to discover one small truth in my lifetime. For if there isn't one plain statement of fact, then nothing has any value, including my throne. 

Deep walks back to the table. 

Deep: It was a messenger. He has just delivered the news that a revolution has started in the kingdom. We must act urgently, or the king shall be overthrown and in his place a vague idea of 'the people' shall arise. 

Abhijit: What is this you tell me? It is all so confusing. 

Deep: It is a tragedy. It began as a knee-jerk reaction to a social evil. A man killed someone from the upper class. Injustice breeds injustice, and the villagers turned to revolution instead of giving up the murderer. Thus, it is the king's duty to convince the people of the guilt of the revolutionaries. By bringing justice to the people, the kingdom shall be restored of the order which at present is imbalanced. For this reason the king must violently repress the revolution and then declare that it is the natural course of justice. 

Abhijit: What do I have to say? 

Deep: Let us rehearse the speech. 

Abhijit walks to front centre. Deep walks and stands next to him. 

Abhijit: (After a long, anxious pause.) People of this country! I do not hope to supplant this life, which has been understood and discussed in thousands of years of philosophical thinking and which has been experienced in works of art throughout history, with the very kernel of history itself, the grain of the images and the words which belong to the present, a political language which we are familiar with and which narrates the stories we recognize as the truth of our lives. I do not wish to tell these stories, for I am not capable of this. I can only express this truth in plain language, as fact, and not as poetry. I wish it were otherwise, but it is not to be. The fact is that life is uncertain, that all things point away from the way of the good, and that, after everything, at the end of the day, we are all left with our own life's due. We are our own lives' masters, the kings of our little kingdoms. In this light alone, it will not be wrong to say that we have forsaken the truth. How can we expect God to be in this world when we ourselves have abandoned him? We have been banished from the divine kingdom of God and cast into this worldly place. It is here that our trial must take place. It is here, with our joys and sorrows, that we realize our true nature. We have lost a greater sense of purpose, and have become common-place, like a herd of cattle. We have become accustomed to tragedy. We are conscious of ourselves, but who among you has the will and courage to carry this burden into the light? No! The common man shall never do that. He thinks this burden is too heavy. That is why he needs a king. Yet, he thinks himself to be free. I proclaim man's true nature to be that of the slave. Even the best and most powerful men are slaves to one thing or another. Who has the will to overthrow that which is closest to his being, whether it is love or something else? No, man does not live to destroy, but to create. He shall live in servitude rather than take freedom and proclaim himself as master. If he did, he would do it with the cold knowledge of acting against his true nature. I come to the reason why I began this speech. There have been talks of a revolution among some of you. It may be that others may desire change in some or the other form. I proclaim the revolution to be a sin against not merely this kingdom, but also against man's true nature. A king rules by the will of his people. It is, therefore, a crime against the people of this kingdom. Yet, I am a merciful king. I will drop all charges against the revolutionaries, if they put an end to their activities immediately. There shall be no further enquiry into the matter. I will pardon the revolutionaries. (Turns to Deep.) What do you think? 

Deep: His highness has delivered a most marvelous and moving speech. He will surely have an effect on the people with this. 

Abhijit: So when do I deliver it? 

Deep: You can do it whenever you like, your highness. 

Abhijit begins pacing across the stage.

Abhijit: Are you sure they will not jeer and throw tomatoes and eggs? 

Deep: I doubt it. They will love you. 

Abhijit: (Stops pacing.) Let us wait till the war is over, before worrying about the revolution. 

Abhijit walks to the table. Sits. 

Abhijit: Let's play a game of cards, to pass the time. 

Deep: Yes, your highness. 

Abhijit takes out a pack of cards and shuffles it. A card drops. He picks it up and shuffles again. Serves a hand. 

Abhijit: Blinds. 

Abhijit opens the cards. He loses the hand, curses. 

Abhijit: Let's try again. 

He shuffles the cards and serves the hand. They see their cards this time. Abhijit opens the cards. He loses the hand again, curses, throws the cards on the floor. 

There is a knock on the door again. Deep walks to the door. Abhijit remains seated, holding his head. Deep returns to the table. 

Deep: His highness, the worst is over. It is my pleasure to tell you that a messenger has just brought word that both the revolution and the war are over. 

Abhijit: Who won? 

Deep: We did. 

Abhijit rises to his feet. 

Abhijit: Let us drink to this. Wait, what about the speech? 

Deep: It need not be necessary, your highness. 

Abhijit: I can still give it. 

Deep: You can give the speech, your highness, if you want. 

Abhijit: Should I prepare another one? 

Deep: You should. 

Abhijit: Okay. People of this…Do you hear something? 

Deep: Yes, your highness. Wait, let me see. 

Deep walks to the window. He stares outside. Silence. 

Deep: The people are entering the gate of the castle. We were betrayed. A revolution has started. 

Abhijit continues to stare at Deep. Deep walks back to the table. 

Abhijit: What now? Let us take the back gate. 

Deep: We can't. It's too late for that. 

Abhijit: Is this the end then?

Deep: I'm afraid so, your highness. 

Abhijit: I was born a king. I will die as one. That shall never be changed. 

Abhijit picks up the sword.

Abhijit: Death is the end, but for some it may be a beginning. 

He kills himself. 

Deep: Shall I stand here and wait for the mob? I see the king lie dead on the floor. The mad king lived and died tragically. Yet, the world has no sympathy even in death. The king was right in his final words. He died as he was born, unmoved by fate. Thus, the king conquered death. Life goes on. Yet, its essence remains unchanged. Such is fate's theatre whose tragedy plays out in life. 

He picks up the sword and walks to the front. He kills himself. A loud voice of the crowd is heard as the light fades out. 

We see Abhijit and Deep sitting on the chairs at centre stage. 

Deep: Ah! There is nothing to do. I hope the show goes well. 

Abhijit: It will. If you remember the dialogues. 

Deep: I remember everything.

Silence. 

Deep: It is a cold night. There is only the light of the moon and the stars at this hour. (Pause.) Do you hear that? 

Abhijit: Yes. 

Abhijit and Deep walk to the window. 

Deep: It is a crowd. 

Abhijit: Where are they going? 

Deep: I don't know. Let's go there and find out. 

They exit. 

Light fades out. 

Ritwik Chaudhary is a writer and an actor. His writing has been published in decomp journal and Unlikely Stories Mark V, among other places. 

Art Credit: Pinterest