A Scholar and a Scoundrel, an Opera
A Scholar and a Scoundrel An opera in two parts By Kearavon Oenen
In which an old and wise man, a warrior with a past, and knowledge of the forbidden arts, find his meaning in life once again by teaching the young and impressionable daughter of a blacksmith.
A tale of tragedy, sorrow and betrayal, wherein intentions misunderstood cause much grief for generations to come, and causes the downfall of two great and honourable men and one woman through their own folly and refuse to compromise their ways.
The performance will truly shock and move, as the story of how different ways and views clash in a show of steel and blood, crushing the hearts of a village and bereaving the wise of their minds as they go out seeking revenge for a crime not committed and an act done with all the best of intentions.
Scene 4 Act 1
Enter Julia the blacksmith’s daughter She cries
Ju: Oh, father why do you act so? How can you persist your ways so stout, What else would you have me do? You must see with my virtue is not in doubt! Oh what I’d give to but have your trust. Can you not see that within me there is no lust?
She sits, and bring forth a skin of wine.
Ju: I can but do this jester’s foolish act Drown my sorrows, like a common thuggish knave So much does my heart hurt, that is a fact What am I to do? Oh, if I was but more brave Like that old wise soldier, oh what was his name? No, there is no point, father you have hurt my fame!
Enter Brutus, the old wise soldier, from behind the bushes. He carries an empty flask of wine, intoxicated by the drink.
Br: My name is Brutus, fair little girl And do not worry, I am not here to hurt I was out drinking, yes I too, when I in the bushes had to hurl I heard and have to ask, how has your fame been made inert?
Ju: Oh, you old silly man, have you no style? One does not hide and then come forth in such a ‘stant Some might say such behaviour is but for the vile! What you heard was a matter but for me, a private rant!
Br: No, fairest Julia, I must disagree Your are in sorrow, you are not well Your heart bleeds, anyone can see! Let me listen to you and your worries I shall dispel No need to worry, I am no rapish illbegotter Get to know me, and see that I am actually a nice old totter
Julia throws herself in his arms.
Ju: Oh, Brutus, I have so much to say I do not even know where to begin Let me here in your arms lay While I gather my thought and feels, rein them in
Br: Aye, oh fairest of maid I shall do as you ask, if you do but one thing for me Let us just call a spade a spade I lust for but one thing that you can give, o glee!
She looks at him in disgust, he laughs.
Br: Oh, no I do believe she doth misunderstood Hand me your wineskin to this solemnly hunk I wish you not to comfort my fleshly wood No, all I want is to get further drunk.