Monday, 12 July 2010

A visit to the Globe Theatre on the Occasion of the World Cup Final

ACT ONE

Tim:
Hot, how hot, how hot, how humid, hot!
And that’s just here in my cool windowed plot!
Withstand that walk to Great Western’s fell lair,
Train, taxi, sun on my thinning hair?
And that’s just Journey – then six hours or more
Of Good Will’s Henry, One and Two of Four.
How shall we survive?

Paul:
If England’s weak
Faltering knights by miracle should make
The semis, nay the finals, ‘gainst the Hun
(or whoso else hath made it through by then)
Faith, then I swear by fab Capello’s pox
At home I’ll bide and watch it on the box.

Caro:
Don’t be such wimps! The tickets all are paid
For, months ago, we’re seated in the shade
(I think), and at the breaks your fevered brains
By ale shall slaked be.

Rachel:
I’d prefer champagne.

ACT TWO

Tim:
How can these words so dry and old on th’page
I read last week, (to capture and assuage
The need, should heat o’ercome me, to attend) –
How a simple actor, Allam, doth befriend
Us, dry ‘Sir John’ to Falstaff’s wit-fired heat – ?

Rachel:
I thought it was really good.
Caro:
Me too. Let’s eat.

Paul:
Another?
Tim:
Sounds good –
Rachel:
I need a wee –
Ben:
Don’t tell me the score –
Tim:
– sounds good to me.

ACT THREE

Epilogue:
Proud Spain has won, the cup bestowed
Foul and fair, the plays are played
Great Western ploughs its weary road
Back to hotspurred homes – but stay!
Shall we replay, xenophobes?
Or
Shall we return to Shakespeare’s Globe?

4 comments :

  1. I have been trying to think of a witty, poetic reply but alas, it is beyond me.

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  2. Me too!! I bow down in awe of your extraordinary literary talent!

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  3. Bow thee not Sis,
    Tis enshrined from within those Stour Wood bricks,
    Such of us who hold Largesse
    And cast asunder
    All who seek to crouch before flickering silver in festering stripes with packs of six.
    Yet stripp'd of worthy honour thro' the blunder -
    Larrionda!
    Espinosa!
    To this fair isle show not your mugs,
    For our good constables shall protect ye not
    In the lanes of the thugs.

    Bardolph, look to our horses.

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  4. Haha! Love it! I'll have to engage my brain - after all I was probably the only one who got a GCE 3 in English Literature and a 2 in English Language!

    ReplyDelete