Lady Malcolm's Servants' Ball, an event she puts on so that the servants have a day of gaiety and levity. Costumes are required. Of course, all of the bohemians take it as an opportunity to dress up in wild outfits, flirt, get drunk, and generally not have the sort of wholesome fun Lady Malcolm intended.
The lights dim.
A palace, a balcony. On a couch, once opulent and now faded and threadbare, reclines the Queen Cassilda. Behind her twin suns appear on the sky of a painted backdrop. Enter her two sons and her daughter. They are all wearing masks. The four discuss matters of the succession although no one is named and no one calls another by name. The sons argue and they complain to their mother but Cassilda does not give them the attention they would wish, and in the end she wearily sends them away. The talk seems to be one they have had many times before — the actors bring across a feeling of ennui, of going through the motions.
Terrence is vibrating throughout, even though he practically has the lines memorized.
The secret to acting like you have gone through one very boring conversation before: a bad script, and lots of rehearsals.
The palace, Cassilda’s receiving room. The queen stands at a long table. She reads aloud from a scroll a report which names her city as Yhtill and talks of a war that goes on against the kingdom of Alar. The conflict has no end in sight. A child with jeweled fingers enters. It’s unclear if he is another of the queen’s sons although he talks to her with familiarity and even bullies her. They speak of Carcosa, a dreamlike city which is a place of several unusual aspects: it appeared overnight; it is either on or beyond the waters below the palace, Hali; the towers of the city slip behind the moons at night; on seeing the city one knows its name; it appears only when Aldebaran has risen in the sky; a sixth singularity no one speaks of. Cassilda sings a sad song about Carcosa’s fate.
Along the shore the cloud waves break,
The twin suns sink behind the lake,
The shadows lengthen
In Carcosa.Strange is the night where black stars rise,
And strange moons circle through the skies
But stranger still is
Lost Carcosa.Songs that the Hyades shall sing,
Where flap the tatters of the King,
Must die unheard in
Dim Carcosa.Song of my soul, my voice is dead;
Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed
Shall dry and die in
Lost Carcosa.
...The song, at least, is well-written. It's a little bit weird how good the song is, just in terms of assembling words, when you put it next to the dry and boring conversation in the previous scene and the clunky exposition? But some people are just better at wordcraft than plot, probably.
The priest, Naotalba, and Camilla enter. He eyes the child with distrust but it seems the queen has no power to dismiss the youth. Naotalba describes uncertainty out in the city. A stranger has arrived, an unheard of event.
One Mister Michael Gillen, according to his playbill. Liven it this thing up a little, Michael.
The stranger enters the room wearing a mask. They talk more about the succession. The dialogue from Scene 1 repeats, now with more listlessness. One by one, when they have said their last line, each of the actors removes their mask in silence.
Camilla: You, sir, should unmask.
Stranger: Indeed?
Cassilda: Indeed, it's time. We all have laid aside disguise but you.
Stranger: I wear no mask.
Camilla: (Terrified, aside to Cassilda) No mask? No mask!
...this is at least an interesting thing to do with the suspension of disbelief and the way the audience expects costumes to work
Admittedly a bit creepy. But you expect a self-satisfied touch of the macabre with this type of thing.
The queen, Cassilda, is alone on the stage. She is quiet for almost a minute — very odd for a play — and then she reacts as though someone has joined her although no one has. She speaks of the approach of madness, and she talks ever more excitedly about the power of the king, the King in Yellow, and there are pauses in her conversation as though she is listening to another side. Then a second figure enters wearing long silk robes and a bone-white mask. She ignores him. Someone at the back of the theater shouts out and people in front of Terrence turn to look as the disturbance continues. On stage the queen now looks at the newcomer. She visibly struggles to remain calm.
The text is different than what Terrence remembers but somehow it feels right.
Terrence is confused but surprised to find himself moreover ecstatic with this variation on the text. He diligently keeps watching.
The white-masked stranger enters; Cassilda is oblivious to his presence. She begins a soliloquy in which she speaks of each of her children who wander in distractedly as they are discussed (they are named here for the first time): her eldest son, Thale, restless, contented and cruel; Uoht, her second son, flawed, ambitious, sensitive; Camilla, her daughter, quiet but influential. She bemoans how the family was only ever held together by the Yellow Sign. The theater is absolutely still. Oscar senses a tension in himself, something tells him a truly awful event is about to occur. As all the other actors save Cassilda leave, the silent stranger, almost forgotten in the shadows, steps past her to the very front of the stage. He faces the audience.
Has Talbot Estus read anything published since the 90s? This is... kind of unnerving though.
The queen greets the white masked stranger who appears indifferent to her status. She seems to know who he is and to have expected him, but is surprised he has come so soon. When she puts this to him he replies that, no, she is really surprised that he wasn’t here before. They talk for a period more but Simone realizes that it’s all clever word play designed to obfuscate a hidden truth and she loses interest in the dialogue as she considers what is not being said. A couple a few rows in front of you start whispering urgently. They gather their things then get up to leave. She is very annoyed by this. But actually she can sense a repressed tension in herself, too, at odds with what she would call this play’s understated portrayal of ill-defined events. The stage regains her attention, as the stranger makes to embrace the queen.
She's enjoying the clever wordplay enough that she's curious what isn't being said and whether anything is going to actually be answered in this play. She attributes her tenseness to noticing that Sano is tense.
The white-masked stranger enters; Cassilda is oblivious to his presence. She begins a soliloquy in which she speaks of each of her children who wander in distractedly as they are discussed (they are named here for the first time): her eldest son, Thale, restless, contented and cruel; Uoht, her second son, flawed, ambitious, sensitive; Camilla, her daughter, quiet but influential. She bemoans how the family was only ever held together by the Yellow Sign. The theater is absolutely still. Jing Yi senses a tension in himself, something tells him a truly awful event is about to occur. As all the other actors save Cassilda leave, the silent stranger, almost forgotten in the shadows, steps past her to the very front of the stage. He faces the audience.
Jing Yi was initially judging the performance a bit before, but honestly this is managing to be effectively creepy, and bravo to Talbot and Hannah Keith.
The queen, Cassilda, is alone on the stage. She is quiet for almost a minute — very odd for a play — and then she reacts as though someone has joined her although no one has. She speaks of the approach of madness, and she talks ever more excitedly about the power of the king, the King in Yellow, and there are pauses in her conversation as though she is listening to another side. Then a second figure enters wearing long silk robes and a bone-white mask. She ignores him. Someone at the back of the theater shouts out and people in front of Sal turn to look as the disturbance continues. On stage the queen now looks at the newcomer. She visibly struggles to remain calm.
The play is growing beautiful and strange. She's become fixated on it.
--She looks behind her.
The person has calmed.
The Stranger immediately throws up his arms to reveal the Yellow Sign painted on breast and sleeve and Cassilda collapses with an agonized scream. (Sal and Terrence notice that the actress wasn't looking at the Yellow Sign.)
There are gasps and cries from other audience members around the investigators and then the stage lights go down and the house lights go up.