Coincidentally, on the day the monks visit town a wandering player appears to be putting on a performance for the amusement and entertainment of the marketday crowds; the play is enacted by a single actor, who makes cunning use of a very versatile garment and a mask that seems to shift and change to suit the various roles. It would appear that this fellow is a regular sight on market days, and his performances draw quite sizeable crowds of people who come to see such ingenious use of costume, body-language and voice. Also, fart jokes.
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A Storm for a Teacup
A Short Historical Comedy of Folly and Famine
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
BROTHER FRIVULUS - an Addled Man of Faith [
whom the actor depicts as a drunkard, a lecher and a blithering fool, prone to all manner of ridiculous fancies; the garment is worn similar to a monk's cassock, only hitched up on one side to display his bare knee, the mask assuming a face of wall-eyed enthusiasm bordering on the demented, with the bright-red nose of a drunkard.]
GOODCUPS - a Stout Keeper of the Bar [
whom the actor portrays as a diligent if somewhat sardonic bartender, calm and unflappable in the face of his patrons' foolishness; the garment is worn to resemble a publican's apron, the mask showing an expression of patient good-humour.]
MISS BRANDYWINE - a Young Tavern Wench [
whom the actor portrays as a slightly overworked but generally pleasant barmaid, with a no-nonsense attitude and a broad streak of wilfulness; the garment is worn to resemble a barmaid's bodice, the mask showing a pretty and youthful face, though by no means naive.]
FARMER BILLY BARMER - a Credulous Yokel [
whom the actor portrays as being more than slightly gullible, and readily swayed by spurious arguments; his garment is worn to resemble a peasant's smock, the mask assuming coarse and ruddy features with an expression of henpecked submission.]
FAIRLY BARMER - a Merciless Nag [
whom the actor portrays as a relentless harridan and incorrigible gossip, who constantly browbeats her husband for his foolishness but is no less gullible for it; the garment is worn to resemble a goodwife's shawl and skirts, and the mask takes on the pinched and unpleasant features of a whip-tongued nag.]
FARMER FULLY FIRMER - A Doubtful Rustic [
whom the actor portrays in an altogether more sympathetic light as a stolid and unflappable soul, generally serving to express doubt and common-sense in contrast to the ranting of FRIVULUS and the BARMERs; the garment is worn in a similar manner to BARMER's, though the features of the mask bear an expression of permanent scepticism.]
Divers other FARMERS, MERCHANTS, MONKS and TOWNSFOLK.
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ACT I sees the introduction of the players as they mingle in a tavern, with assorted brief character sketches; BROTHER FRIVULUS is clearly deep in his cups and quite crass and obnoxious with it; FARMER BARMER and FARMER FIRMER are drinking and grumbling of the season's awful drought, while GOODCUPS serves all and sundry with a quiet yet incisive wit.
Mid-scene, FAIRLY BARMER makes an appearance, mercilessly henpecking her husband over such ridiculous matters as his failure to arrange proper rainfall in time for his crops, and if he'd planted back in winter when the rain was plentiful he'd surely have a bountiful harvest by now. FARMER BARMER suffers this with weary forbearance.
FAIRLY BARMER then notes BROTHER FRIVULUS at the bar, and spends some time buttering up (and at points quite blatantly flirting with) the man of the cloth, attention which is quite cheerfully returned. Choice lines include an inquiry if his prayers might not arrange some rain for the crops, to which he replies that he'll have a few more mugs of ale and then he'll make all the water she wants.
Draining his final cup (by which point he is clearly on the verge of falling over), BROTHER FRIVULUS praises GOODCUPS as a fine and pious soul to aid the monk in his holy works, and drunkenly declares him a saint before lurching out. FARMER BARMER and FAIRLY BARMER are thoroughly impressed by this, though FARMER FIRMER expresses some doubts over such a swift beatification; the BARMERs berate him, arguing that obviously BROTHER FRIVULUS is a man of the cloth and thus knows a saint when he sees one, and immediately begin petitioning the newly-minted saint GOODCUPS, initially for such things as rain, a good harvest and blight-free crops, swiftly moving onto respite from nagging, relief from noxious bedfarts "fit to wither a goodwife's nethers", a husband who's not lazy, a wife who's not a shrill old crone, and the matter soon escalates into a blazing row between FARMER BARMER and his wife in which all manner of exciting epithets and blistering insults are thrown.
Towards the end of this, clearly overwhelmed by the vehemence of the argument and trying in vain to calm the quarrelsome couple, GOODCUPS clutches his chest, slumps to the floor and expires with a short but poignant soliloquy on the importance of mutual affection and respect in marriage. This goes unnoticed for a time before the farmer tries to call in GOODCUPS' support in some argument, and notes his sudden and unfortunate collapse. FARMER FIRMER, a quiet observer throughout this, confirms that the man is dead, which is instantly taken as the saintly barkeep ascending to Heaven with much praising and delighting on the part of the BARMERs.
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ACT II sees the BARMERs growing more and more vocal and ridiculous in their veneration of the beatified GOODCUP, with praise that jumps clear into heresy at points. At length, they construct a teetering and unsteady shrine upon the bar, with FAIRLY's "good cup" perched atop the lot. As they leave the tavern in the process of another quarrel the slamming of the tavern door causes the whole lot to collapse, and the cup to break. Enter MISS BRANDY, who delivers a short monologue about the continuing drought and how difficult things are without GOODCUPS to tend the bar now; she notes the awful mess caused by the collapsing shrine, and grumbles as she tidies the whole lot away, particularly noting a "plain and oft-chipped cup" that doesn't appear to have been cleaned for months, and throws it all out on the midden heap.
FAIRLY BARMER subsequently discovers the broken and discarded cup (while rooting through the tavern's midden-heap for cabbage-stalks from which to boil broth, being too mean to serve anything else to her husband), and her shrill reaction to seeing her offering so casually cast aside.
The next scene sees FAIRLY BARMER working the old wives' network, with much tutting and clucking and well-I-never-ing. Matters swiftly escalate, as it becomes apparent that the the followers of Saint Goodcup (calling themselves "Cuppers") have been stirred into a fine fit of pique. At first they decide not to sell their wares to the tavern, but when that doesn't work they decide to withhold sale of their goods from the whole town, with lines about them letting the folk of Myrken drink deep from the cup of their ire (while holding up a dainty teacup, pinky finger extended).
Finally, in response to mild grumblings and complaints and entreaties to "see reason" from various Townsfolk, the Cuppers whip themselves up into a state of almost hysterical indignation; the climax of this is a long and heartfelt speech by FARMER BARMER, which
would be a piece of masterfully moving oratory were the audience not constantly being reminded throughout that the whole issue arose over the matter of a single cup, thus cleverly reinforcing the ridiculous and disproportionate outrage displayed by the Cuppers.
This culminates in the Cuppers pompously declaring that they will be rid of Myrken, setting their crops afire in an act of purest spite, donating their lands to the Cupper Monks with explicit instructions that the land be left untended in order that Myrken be made to pay for their most grievous insult with the lives of their children and loved ones, and flouncing off-stage in a show of petulance that would make a toddler's tantrum seem dignified and composed.
The final scene is something of an epilogue and provides a rather sombre contrast to the farcical hilarity of the rest of the play, with gaunt-cheeked Townsfolk bewailing the continuing food shortages and grieving for infants lost to hunger, and closes with the Abbot of the Cupper Monks speaking with a Novice and congratulating himself on what a fine crop of weeds the Cuppers' farms are growing this year, noting that times are so hard that all they need to do to purchase the citizenry's goodwill is distribute a few wormy windfall apples from the orchards.
With that the play is finished, and the actor passes round a hat.