Close this Window

A Witch enters, and scatters moon dust. The lights change to fantasy - it is as if the Witch has pulled them into change with her charms and spells.

Zachustra: (this speech goes from very loud to very soft and in one breath) See how the humpled clouds rumble through the sky on this fine, beautiful day, through the leaves of sunflower, rumbling their way away in blue sky to a meeting somewhere where thunder's forged.

Silence. Zachustra yawns.

Zachustra: I'm tired.

Zachustra sits on the ground. Silence.

Zachustra: Tired.

Witch: (trying to get into his mind) Let me in. Let me in your head.


Witch: (beside herself, jumping up and down, frustrated)
Skin of a bee
Tongue of a gnat
Pip of a berry
Tit of a rat.

The Witch laughs. She goes through the sunflowers and around still cackling. Zachustra stares at the tallest sunflower stem. He stands. He breaks it off so that it is shorter. The lights change suddenly to sunflower field when he breaks the stem.

Zachustra: There! Heh! Heh! (This is not a laugh, but a kind of grunt).

The Witch looks devastated/destroyed - as if a spell she has cast failed. She moves desperately.

Zachustra: (turning on the Maskers on the side) Well get your teeth into this, you bastards.

Lights violently change as the Witch goes berserk. The Maskers mime her story. It should be spoken as if it made sense (which I suspect it does!)

Witch: Ol ot muw toxlim ur tivimlim yiert tomci o tew the qaim uf fremci, thim the deaphemit el virteossit. And tarisy mivir soghlid um thot urb - whoch thi herdsy tinid lu luach - e nuri disoghlfas votoum.

Close this Window