The Crown Of Aethelred And Other plays.part three

Act I, Scene 2

SETTING:

DR. ELARA VANCE's apartment, immediately following Scene 1. The lights are off, save for the blue glow of the laptop.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ELARA VANCE

BEN CARTER

AGENT 1 & AGENT 2: Valerius Corp Security, professional and ruthless.

(The scene opens in near darkness. Elara and Ben are frozen, staring at the front door. The loud, sharp knocking continues, more insistent this time.)

AGENT 1 (O.S.)

Dr. Vance, we know you’re in there. Open the door now, or we will breach.

BEN

(Whispering frantically)

Okay, okay, this isn't the university security. They’re serious.

ELARA

(Her mind racing)

They must have been tracking online activity. A burner VPN should have been used.

BEN

(Looking around the small apartment)

Is there a back exit? A fire escape?

ELARA

Only the front door and a window that opens onto the street. Second floor.

(Ben moves quickly to the window and looks down.)

AGENT 2 (O.S.)

Last warning, Dr. Vance. We have a legal warrant for your research materials, specifically the "Codex Tempus".

ELARA

(Grabbing the codex from the light table, clutching it to her chest)

A warrant signed by Valerius, it is assumed.

(A loud CRASH as the door is forced open. The agents enter, silhouetted by the light from the hallway. They move quickly to turn on the main lights, flooding the room.)

AGENT 1

(Coolly, spotting Elara and Ben)

Dr. Vance. Mr. Carter. A pleasure. We’ve been trying to reach you.

BEN

(Stepping slightly in front of Elara)

Who the hell are you? You have no right to break in here.

AGENT 2

(Approaching Ben, a hand on his sidearm)

We have every right. Your friend here is in possession of highly sensitive, proprietary corporate property. Hand over the book, Dr. Vance.

ELARA

(Her voice is steady, despite her shaking hands.)

This book is a historical artifact, over a thousand years old. It belongs in a museum, not in some billionaire’s research lab.

AGENT 1

(He takes a step forward, his voice a smooth threat.)

Our employer, Mr. Valerius, believes history can be improved upon. A cleaner future. Less tragedy, more efficiency. But first, we need all the data.

(Agent 1 reaches for the codex. Elara pulls it back instinctively.)

ELARA

You’re not getting it.

(Ben suddenly grabs an ancient, heavy bronze astrolabe from a shelf and swings it at Agent 2, hitting him hard in the shoulder. The agent grunts in pain but doesn't go down.)

BEN

Run!

(Ben tackles Agent 2. Elara sprints for the front door, slipping past Agent 1, who lunges for her but misses. She runs into the hallway.)

AGENT 1

(Shouting into a communicator)

Subject is mobile! Heading for the stairs! Secure the perimeter!

(Agent 1 quickly subdues Ben with a swift blow to the stomach and then chases after Elara. Ben collapses, gasping for air.)

(BLACKOUT)

BEN

They’ve got the front covered. Two guys in tactical gear near the entrance.

(The sounds of Elara’s footsteps echo down the hall, followed by the heavier steps of the agent.)

continue

Act I, Scene 3

SETTING:

A dark, narrow alleyway behind the apartment building. The ground is wet with rain.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ELARA VANCE

AGENT 1

(The scene opens with Elara running into the alley, clutching the codex. She is breathing heavily, looking back over her shoulder. The streetlights from the adjacent road cast long, uneven shadows.)

ELARA

(To herself, gasping)

Stairs... should have taken the stairs.

(A loud CLANG is heard from the top of the fire escape as Agent 1 jumps down, landing silently. Elara whirls around, startled.)

AGENT 1

Going somewhere, Doctor? The back exit is a dead end.

ELARA

(Backing up against a brick wall, nowhere to go)

You work for a criminal, Valerius. What you're doing is illegal.

AGENT 1

(Slowly approaching, calm and collected)

"Illegal" is a relative term when you're writing the laws of tomorrow. Mr. Valerius believes that with the power to correct history’s mistakes, you eliminate future crime. Order from chaos.

ELARA

You mean profit from chaos. The market crash? That was you.

AGENT 1

A minor course correction, a drop in your 'pond'. The world is a better place now, more stable, more profitable for those with vision. The book is needed to refine the 'Key'.

ELARA

(Holding the book out of reach)

This is knowledge, not a weapon. Time cannot be controlled. It controls us.

AGENT 1

All of time does not need to be controlled, Doctor. Just a few key moments. The right place, the right time, a little push... history changes. The future is ours to make. Now, the book.

(Elara looks desperately around for an escape route. The alley is a trap. She considers throwing the book into a puddle.)

AGENT 1

(Noticing her gaze)

That would not be wise. Mr. Valerius is a reasonable man, but he is very fond of that book. The original, specifically. Copies are available, but they lack... nuance.

(A low rumble is heard from the main street. Ben’s beat-up car suddenly squeals around the corner, its headlights blinding them both. Ben is driving, his face pale.)

BEN

(Screaming from the window)

ELARA! GET IN!

(Elara seizes the opportunity and dives for the car just as Agent 1 lunges for her. She scrambles into the passenger seat, slams the door shut, and the car speeds off, tires screeching on the wet pavement.)

AGENT 1

(Standing in the alley, shouting into his communicator with frustration)

They have the asset and the book! Code Red! Pursue them!

(The sound of the car fades as Agent 1 is left alone in the alley.)

(BLACKOUT)

Act I, Scene 4

SETTING:

Inside Ben's moving car. It's an old, noisy sedan. Elara is in the passenger seat, the Codex Tempus held tightly in her lap. Ben is driving erratically, weaving through sparse late-night traffic.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ELARA VANCE

BEN CARTER

(The sounds of a police scanner crackle from Ben's dashboard.)

BEN

(Eyes on the road, breathing heavily)

They weren't cops. Cops don't have that kind of gear, and their comms were encrypted.

ELARA

Valerius security. They have private police powers in some jurisdictions.

BEN

(Swerving to avoid another car)

We are in a private jurisdiction called 'Boston'. Where are we going?

ELARA

The university. The hard drives are needed. All research data is there.

BEN

The place that fired you? They probably already wiped the server clean.

ELARA

(Shakes her head, resolute)

A private, unlisted server in the humanities building was used. It wasn’t found the first time; it won't be found now. Hopefully.

(A low, persistent humming sound starts coming from the Codex in her lap. She looks down at it in alarm.)

ELARA

Ben, stop the car.

BEN

Are you insane? We're being chased!

ELARA

The book! It’s vibrating!

(She lifts the book. It’s warm to the touch and humming faintly. The pages seem to glow with a very subtle, internal light.)

ELARA

(Fascinated and scared)

The signals... the power surges Valerius is making with the Key must be interfering with the natural state of the codex. It’s reacting to proximity.

(The police scanner suddenly goes silent, replaced by a strange, high-pitched static sound.)

BEN

What was that?

(Ben looks up into his rearview mirror, his eyes widening in horror.)

BEN

Oh, God. Elara. They found us.

(A large, black SUV speeds up behind them, its headlights blazing, attempting to force them off the road.)

(BLACKOUT)

Act I, Scene 5

SETTING:

Inside Ben's moving car. The black SUV is aggressively trying to ram them off the road. The high-pitched static from the scanner is still ongoing.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ELARA VANCE

BEN CARTER

(The scene opens with a jarring crash. The black SUV has hit the rear quarter-panel of Ben’s car. Ben struggles to keep the car straight.)

BEN

They're trying to kill us!

ELARA

(Her knuckles white, gripping the dashboard)

They need the book more than they need us dead. They want it intact! They need us to stop voluntarily!

(Another crash. Ben’s car swerves wildly across three lanes of traffic. Horns blare from other cars.)

BEN

How do you voluntarily stop when they're using our bumper as a battering ram?!

(Elara glances down at the Codex. The humming is louder now. She flips through the glowing pages wildly.)

ELARA

"The moment may be bent..." Ben! The power surge at the university! Can you get us there?

BEN

It’s ten minutes away at this speed!

(The SUV pulls alongside them. The window rolls down on the passenger side, and Agent 2, with a nasty bruise forming on his shoulder, levels a pistol at them.)

ELARA

They don't want to stop us. They want to corner us! They want control of the environment!

(Agent 2 fires a shot. It hits the hood of the car with a dull THUNK. Ben ducks his head.)

BEN

We’re not going to make it!

(Elara notices a large transformer box on the side of the road, coming up fast.)

ELARA

The box! Hit the box!

BEN

What? The electric box? Are you insane?

ELARA

If the power surges are what's affecting the book, we need a massive, localized surge now! We need a distraction! Do it, Ben!

(Ben grits his teeth, looking from the agent's gun to the transformer box. He suddenly jerks the wheel hard right.)

BEN

Hold on!

(The car smashes into the large metal transformer box with a deafening CRUNCH and CRACKLE of electricity. The car jolts violently and the world goes into slow motion for a moment as the electrical surge hits the car and the Codex glows blindingly bright.)

(The high-pitched static stops abruptly. All lights in the immediate area flicker and die. The black SUV, having dodged the collision, slams on its brakes nearby.)

(The car is dark and silent, smoke rising from the hood. Ben and Elara are stunned, airbags deployed.)

BEN

(Gasping for air)

That... that worked?

(Elara stares at the Codex, which is now silent and dark. She looks out the window. The agents are getting out of their car, looking at the downed power lines and the darkened street.)

ELARA

A momentary reprieve. Get out of the car, Ben. We run the rest of the way.

(They scramble out of the wreck, leaving the disabled car behind in the darkness of the street.)

(BLACKOUT. END OF ACT 1

Act II: The Harvard Sanctuary

Act II, Scene 1

SETTING:

An alleyway near Harvard Square in Cambridge, a short walk from where Ben crashed the car near the Charles River. It is still late night/early morning.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ELARA VANCE

BEN CARTER

(The scene opens with Elara and Ben stumbling into the alley, exhausted and breathing heavily. Elara still has the codex.)

ELARA

(Checking the street nervously)

But it was done. Thank you, Ben. The university is just two blocks that way.

BEN

(Pushing off the dumpster, still shaky)

They'll be looking for my car. And our faces. My ID is in the glove compartment. My life just imploded.

ELARA

The car can be recovered. First, the data. It needs to be exposed.

(Elara pulls out her phone, a cheap burner she bought earlier. She tries to find a signal.)

ELARA

No service. They must have a localized signal jammer up around the university.

BEN

Valerius doesn't mess around, does it?

ELARA

(Looking around at the historic brick buildings surrounding them)

The Widener Library is where they need to go. It's built like a fortress. The server room is in the sub-basement.

BEN

And how exactly does anyone suggest breaking into one of the most secure libraries in the world? Security at Harvard is no joke.

ELARA

The old access codes are still available. They were only deactivated from the main system. The humanities server is off-grid. If they can get past the front desk, success is possible.

BEN

"If". That's a big "if". It's a miracle they weren't caught in the alley.

ELARA

They are likely focused on the crash site. That little power surge bought some time.

(A quiet humming starts again from the Codex.)

ELARA

It's acting up again. The Key must be getting closer, or maybe the experiments are escalating.

BEN

(Looking at the street nervously)

It is time to move. That light from the codex is a beacon.

ELARA

Right. Stay in the shadows. Head towards the main yard.

(They move cautiously out of the alley, staying close to the buildings, their movements tense as they look for pursuers.)

(BLACKOUT)

Act II, Scene 2

SETTING:

The Harvard University yard. Majestic, imposing, and eerily quiet under the late-night moon.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ELARA VANCE

BEN CARTER

A NIGHT WATCHMAN

(Elara and Ben cross the quiet yard, moving with hurried caution.)

BEN

The guard rotation usually changes at 3 AM. It should just be Old Man Hemlock now. He sleeps in his booth.

ELARA

Good memory.

BEN

People used to sneak in here all the time to use the supercomputer labs.

(They approach the large, imposing front doors of the library.)

ELARA

The front door is the tricky part. The old magnetic lock is slow to disengage.

(Suddenly, a flashlight beam hits them. A sleepy NIGHT WATCHMAN in a uniform shuffles towards them.)

WATCHMAN

Hey! Yard's closed after dark. Students caught after hours get a fine. You two need to leave.

BEN

(Thinking fast, putting an arm around Elara, affecting a drunken stagger)

Sorry, officer. Just a little date night gone wrong. Lost the key to the dorm.

WATCHMAN

(Squinting at them)

Officer? I'm security. And you don't look like students. You look like you fell into a dumpster.

ELARA

(Trying to act flustered)

A costume party was attended! A mistake was made with the timing.

WATCHMAN

Costume party? At 3 AM? The codex is humming louder in Elara's arms, the light slightly visible from under her jacket. The watchman notices the glow.)

WATCHMAN

What's that?

(Elara and Ben exchange a desperate look.)

(BLACKOUT)

Act II, Scene 2 

(The watchman squints at the source of the glow under Elara's jacket.)

WATCHMAN

What is that light? It's kind of bright.

(Ben, desperate, pulls a fast move. He dramatically fakes a stumble and falls right into the watchman, grabbing his arm.)

BEN

Whoa! The 'punch' was a bit strong! My bad, man, my bad!

WATCHMAN

(Stumbling back, trying to maintain balance)

Get off me, kid! Get off!

(In the diversion, Elara reaches the main library doors. She pulls out an old keycard from her pocket and swipes it at a reader that seems outdated and barely functional. It beeps, once, twice, and then a heavy 'clunk' is heard as the lock disengages.)

ELARA

(Shouting to Ben)

Got it! Ben, come on!

(Ben shoves the watchman away and sprints towards the door. The watchman, dazed, tries to gather himself, fumbling for his radio.)

WATCHMAN

(Into radio, groggy)

Intruder alert... two of them... at the front of Widener. Moving fast.

(Ben reaches the door, and they both slip inside, disappearing into the dark library just as the black SUV pulls into the main yard, its headlights sweeping across the entrance.)

(The agents jump out of the SUV, guns drawn.)

AGENT 1

(To the watchman, who is still catching his breath)

Where did they go?

WATCHMAN

(Pointing a shaky finger at the doors)

Inside. They went... inside the library.

AGENT 2

(Looking at the secured, imposing building)

A library. Smart. Good luck tracking a signal in a building full of Faraday cages.

AGENT 1

(A cold smile plays on his lips)

They can't hide forever. We have the building sealed off within minutes. We'll find them. They've just chosen their tomb.

(Agent 1 and Agent 2 move with purpose towards the library entrance.)

(BLACKOUT. END OF SCENE 2.)

Act II, Scene 3

SETTING:

Inside the sub-basement of the Widener Library. It is a maze of dimly lit, ancient book stacks. The air is damp and smells of old paper and dust.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ELARA VANCE

BEN CARTER

(The scene opens with Elara and Ben running down a narrow corridor between shelves. Their footsteps echo slightly.)

BEN

Which way? This place is a maze!

ELARA

Left at the next junction. The server room is through the old catalogue section.

(They turn the corner and keep moving, their breathing ragged.)

BEN

How did you even know about an off-grid server?

ELARA

A former colleague, Professor Harrison, a brilliant old man who hated "modernization". He set it up years ago. It’s powered by a separate generator. Completely air-gapped from the main network.

(They arrive at a reinforced steel door. Elara pulls out another keycard and swipes it. The door remains locked.)

ELARA

Damn it!

BEN

What’s wrong?

ELARA

The card is dead. Valerius must have finally gotten to Harrison and deactivated the access.

(She pounds her fist against the door in frustration. A shadow moves at the end of the aisle.)

AGENT 1 (O.S.)

Dead end, Doctor. It’s over.

(Elara and Ben turn around slowly, trapped between the locked door and the approaching agents.)

(BLACKOUT)

Crown Of Aethelred and other plays.part two

Scaena Sexta.

Before AETHELRED's castle gate. Hautboys and torches. Enter KING DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, ROSSE, ANGUS, and Attendants, with LADY AETHELRED.

KING DUNCAN

This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air

Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself

Unto our gentle senses.

DONALBAIN

This guest of summer,

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,

By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath

Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,

Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird

Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle:

Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,

The air is delicate.

KING DUNCAN

Enter LADY AETHELRED.

See, see, our honour’d hostess!

The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,

Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you

How you shall bid God 'ield us for your pains,

And thank us for your trouble.

LADY AETHELRED

All our service

In every point twice done and then done double,

Were poor and single business to contend

Against those honours deep and broad wherewith

Your majesty loads our house: for those of old,

And the late dignities heap'd up to them,

We rest your hermits.

KING DUNCAN

Where's the Thane of Cawdor?

We cours’d him at the heels, and had a purpose

To be his purveyor: but he rides well;

And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him

To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,

We are your guest to-night.

LADY AETHELRED

Your servants ever

Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt,

To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,

Still to return your own.

KING DUNCAN

Give me your hand;

Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,

And shall continue our graces towards him.

By your leave, hostess.

Exeunt.

Exeunt.

Scaena Septima.

Aethelred's castle. A room of state. Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and diverse Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the stage. Then enter AETHELRED.

AETHELRED

If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well

It were done quickly: if the assassination

Could trammel up the consequence, and catch

With his surcease success; that but this blow

Might be the be-all and the end-all here,

But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,

We'd jump the life to come. But in these cases

We still have judgment here; that we but teach

Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return

To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice

Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice

To our own lips. He's here in double trust;

First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,

Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,

Who should against his murderer shut the door,

Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan

Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been

So clear in his great office, that his virtues

Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against

The deep damnation of his taking-off;

And pity, like a naked new-born babe,

Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed

Upon the sightless couriers of the air,

Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,

That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur

To prick the sides of my intent, but only

Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself

And falls on the other.

Enter LADY AETHELRED.

How now! what news?

LADY AETHELRED

He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber?

AETHELRED

Hath he ask'd for me?

LADY AETHELRED

Know you not he has?

AETHELRED

We will proceed no further in this business:

He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought

Golden opinions from all sorts of people,

Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,

Not cast aside so soon.

LADY AETHELRED

Was the hope drunk

Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since?

And wakes it now, to look so green and pale

At what it did so freely? From this time

Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard

To be the same in thine own act and valour

As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that

Which thou esteem’st the ornament of life,

And live a coward in thine own esteem,

Letting ‘I dare not’ wait upon ‘I would,’

Like the poor cat i' the adage?

AETHELRED

Prithee, peace:

I dare do all that may become a man;

Who dares do more is none.

LADY AETHELRED

What beast was't, then,

That made you break this enterprise to me?

When you durst do it, then you were a man;

And, to be more than what you were, you would

Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place

Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:

They have made themselves, and that their fitness now

Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know

How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me:

I would, while it was smiling in my face,

Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,

And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you

Have done to this.

AETHELRED

If we should fail?

LADY AETHELRED

We fail!

But screw your courage to the sticking-place,

And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep—

Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey

Soundly invite him—his two chamberlains

Will I with wine and wassail so convince

That memory, the warder of the brain,

Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason

A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep

Their drenched natures lie as in a death,

What cannot you and I perform upon

The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon

His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt

Of our great quell?

AETHELRED

Bring forth men-children only;

For thy undaunted mettle should compose

Nothing but males. Will it not be received,

When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two

Of his own chamber and used their very daggers,

That they have done't?

LADY AETHELRED

Who dares receive it other,

As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar

Upon the direful springing of the murder?

AETHELRED

I am settled, and bend up

Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show:

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

Exeunt.

The Chronos Key

Genre: Contemporary Thriller/Drama

Premise: A disgraced historian uncovers a long-lost manuscript that hints at a device capable of subtly manipulating time. The pursuit of this "Chronos Key" forces her into a high-stakes ethical battle against a tech billionaire who wants to use it to reshape the future for profit.

Themes: The ethics of power, the unchangeable nature of history, corporate greed, and the value of truth.

Act I, Scene 1

SETTING:

DR. ELARA VANCE's cluttered apartment in Boston. It is late at night. Books and papers are stacked high on every surface, including a makeshift light table illuminating an ancient, leather-bound book. A laptop sits open, flickering with research data. The room is dimly lit by a single desk lamp.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ELARA VANCE (30s): Intense, brilliant, and weary. A former professor at Harvard, currently marginalized for a controversial theory.

BEN CARTER (30s): Elara’s friend and a pragmatic software engineer. Stressed and skeptical.

(The scene opens with Elara hunched over the light table, a magnifying glass in hand, muttering to herself. Ben stands by the door, holding a coffee cup, looking exhausted.)

BEN

Elara, it’s 2 AM. You said you’d have dinner with me four hours ago.

ELARA

(Without looking up)

Four hours, three minutes, eighteen seconds. Time is relative, Ben. It's almost done.

BEN

Almost done with what? A caffeine overdose? You haven't slept in two days.

(He walks over and leans over the table, squinting at the ancient script.)

BEN

What is this, Latin? This looks like... wait, is that a diagram? It looks like a gear mechanism from the Antikythera device.

ELARA

It’s not just a mechanism, Ben. It's a schematic. The 'Codex Tempus'. It survived the Alexandria fire. It’s real.

BEN

The 'Codex Tempus'. The thing that got you fired? The theoretical time manipulation device? Come on, Elara.

ELARA

(She finally looks up, her eyes wide with frantic energy.)

They didn’t fire me because the theory was wrong. They fired me because they wanted the research. VALERIUS CORP. bought out my entire university department’s archive a week before I was let go. They knew what I was looking for.

BEN

Valerius Corp buys everything. It’s what billionaires do. They buy history, art, even science departments.

ELARA

This isn’t history. This is a blueprint for something impossible. A device that can cause localized temporal distortions. A Chronos Key. I think they're building it.

BEN

(He sighs, running a hand through his hair.)

You're spiraling, Elara. There's no such thing as time travel. It’s physically, scientifically impossible.

ELARA

Not time travel. Manipulation. Shifting the probability of local events. Imagine a ripple in a pond. It changes the direction of a single drop of water. This device is the drop of water.

BEN

(Skeptical)

And this dusty old book proves it?

ELARA

(She points to a passage in the book.)

"By the alignment of the gears and the harnessing of the ether, the moment may be bent, though never broken."

BEN

Poetic. Still impossible.

ELARA

(She grabs her laptop and turns the screen towards him.)

Then explain this. A sudden, unexplained power surge in Zurich. Coordinated to the millisecond with a catastrophic market crash in Tokyo that lasted only four seconds, but cost trillions. It changed the outcome of two major mergers.

BEN

That's... a coincidence. A hacking event, maybe.

ELARA

It happened. And the only people who benefited were Valerius Corp. They have the money, they have the motive, and now, they have my research. They are running experiments.

BEN

(A hint of genuine fear now in his voice)

If they’re doing what you think they are, you need to stop looking at this book and start running.

ELARA

No. The key to stopping them is right here. The original codex is in hand. They only have notes. The countermeasure is known.

(A loud, sharp knock on the front door makes both of them jump.)

VOICE (O.S.)

Dr. Vance? Security detail. Open up.

(Elara and Ben look at each other, horrified.)

(BLACKOUT)

Act I, Scene 2

SETTING:

DR. ELARA VANCE's apartment, immediately following Scene 1. The lights are off, save for the blue glow of the laptop.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ELARA VANCE

BEN CARTER

AGENT 1 & AGENT 2: Valerius Corp Security, professional and ruthless.

(The scene opens in near darkness. Elara and Ben are frozen, staring at the front door. The loud, sharp knocking continues, more insistent this time.)

AGENT 1 (O.S.)

Dr. Vance, we know you’re in there. Open the door now, or we will breach.

BEN

(Whispering frantically)

Okay, okay, this isn't the university security. They’re serious.

ELARA

(Her mind racing)

They must have been tracking online activity. A burner VPN should have been used.

BEN

(Looking around the small apartment)

Is there a back exit? A fire escape?

ELARA

Only the front door and a window that opens onto the street. Second floor.

(Ben moves quickly to the window and looks down.)

AGENT 2 (O.S.)

Last warning, Dr. Vance. We have a legal warrant for your research materials, specifically the "Codex Tempus".

ELARA

(Grabbing the codex from the light table, clutching it to her chest)

A warrant signed by Valerius, it is assumed.

(A loud CRASH as the door is forced open. The agents enter, silhouetted by the light from the hallway. They move quickly to turn on the main lights, flooding the room.)

AGENT 1

(Coolly, spotting Elara and Ben)

Dr. Vance. Mr. Carter. A pleasure. We’ve been trying to reach you.

BEN

(Stepping slightly in front of Elara)

Who the hell are you? You have no right to break in here.

AGENT 2

(Approaching Ben, a hand on his sidearm)

We have every right. Your friend here is in possession of highly sensitive, proprietary corporate property. Hand over the book, Dr. Vance.

ELARA

(Her voice is steady, despite her shaking hands.)

This book is a historical artifact, over a thousand years old. It belongs in a museum, not in some billionaire’s research lab.

AGENT 1

(He takes a step forward, his voice a smooth threat.)

Our employer, Mr. Valerius, believes history can be improved upon. A cleaner future. Less tragedy, more efficiency. But first, we need all the data.

(Agent 1 reaches for the codex. Elara pulls it back instinctively.)

ELARA

You’re not getting it.

(Ben suddenly grabs an ancient, heavy bronze astrolabe from a shelf and swings it at Agent 2, hitting him hard in the shoulder. The agent grunts in pain but doesn't go down.)

BEN

Run!

(Ben tackles Agent 2. Elara sprints for the front door, slipping past Agent 1, who lunges for her but misses. She runs into the hallway.)

AGENT 1

(Shouting into a communicator)

Subject is mobile! Heading for the stairs! Secure the perimeter!

(Agent 1 quickly subdues Ben with a swift blow to the stomach and then chases after Elara. Ben collapses, gasping for air.)

(BLACKOUT)

Act I, Scene 1

SETTING:

DR. ELARA VANCE's cluttered apartment in Boston. It is late at night. Books and papers are stacked high on every surface, including a makeshift light table illuminating an ancient, leather-bound book. A laptop sits open, flickering with research data. The room is dimly lit by a single desk lamp.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ELARA VANCE (30s): Intense, brilliant, and weary. A former professor at Harvard, currently marginalized for a controversial theory.

BEN CARTER (30s): Elara’s friend and a pragmatic software engineer. Stressed and skeptical.

(The scene opens with Elara hunched over the light table, a magnifying glass in hand, muttering to herself. Ben stands by the door, holding a coffee cup, looking exhausted.)

BEN

Elara, it’s 2 AM. You said you’d have dinner with me four hours ago.

ELARA

(Without looking up)

Four hours, three minutes, eighteen seconds. Time is relative, Ben. It's almost done.

BEN

Almost done with what? A caffeine overdose? You haven't slept in two days.

(He walks over and leans over the table, squinting at the ancient script.)

BEN

What is this, Latin? This looks like... wait, is that a diagram? It looks like a gear mechanism from the Antikythera device.

ELARA

It’s not just a mechanism, Ben. It's a schematic. The 'Codex Tempus'. It survived the Alexandria fire. It’s real.

BEN

The 'Codex Tempus'. The thing that got you fired? The theoretical time manipulation device? Come on, Elara.

ELARA

(She finally looks up, her eyes wide with frantic energy.)

They didn’t fire me because the theory was wrong. They fired me because they wanted the research. VALERIUS CORP. bought out my entire university department’s archive a week before I was let go. They knew what I was looking for.

BEN

Valerius Corp buys everything. It’s what billionaires do. They buy history, art, even science departments.

ELARA

This isn’t history. This is a blueprint for something impossible. A device that can cause localized temporal distortions. A Chronos Key. I think they're building it.

BEN

(He sighs, running a hand through his hair.)

You're spiraling, Elara. There's no such thing as time travel. It’s physically, scientifically impossible.

ELARA

Not time travel. Manipulation. Shifting the probability of local events. Imagine a ripple in a pond. It changes the direction of a single drop of water. This device is the drop of water.

BEN

(Skeptical)

And this dusty old book proves it?

ELARA

(She points to a passage in the book.)

"By the alignment of the gears and the harnessing of the ether, the moment may be bent, though never broken."

BEN

Poetic. Still impossible.

ELARA

(She grabs her laptop and turns the screen towards him.)

Then explain this. A sudden, unexplained power surge in Zurich. Coordinated to the millisecond with a catastrophic market crash in Tokyo that lasted only four seconds, but cost trillions. It changed the outcome of two major mergers.

BEN

That's... a coincidence. A hacking event, maybe.

ELARA

It happened. And the only people who benefited were Valerius Corp. They have the money, they have the motive, and now, they have my research. They are running experiments.

BEN

(A hint of genuine fear now in his voice)

If they’re doing what you think they are, you need to stop looking at this book and start running.

ELARA

No. The key to stopping them is right here. The original codex is in hand. They only have notes. The countermeasure is known.

(A loud, sharp knock on the front door makes both of them jump.)

VOICE (O.S.)

Dr. Vance? Security detail. Open up.

(Elara and Ben look at each other, horrified.)

(BLACKOUT)

The Crown Of Aethelred

The Moor of Granada

Synopsis: A respected military commander of African descent serves the King of Spain during the Reconquista. He is brought low by the insidious manipulations of a jealous aide, who plants false evidence of his wife's infidelity and his own treachery, leading to murder and madness.

Style: A psychological tragedy of jealousy and prejudice, in the style of Othello.

The Lion of the North

Synopsis: The proud but aging king of a Nordic realm, intent on securing his legacy, makes a series of rash decisions regarding his succession. His pride clashes with the integrity of his youngest, truest heir, tearing his family and kingdom apart in a tragic civil war.

Style: A grand, epic tragedy focused on family, hubris, and political collapse, mirroring King Lear.

The Athenian Consul

Synopsis: A Roman statesman of immense personal honor, caught between the old Republic and the rise of an Empire, joins a conspiracy to assassinate the charismatic new Caesar. The play explores the moral weight of his actions and the violent chaos that follows the attempt to restore an idealized past.

Style: A political and moral tragedy in the vein of Julius Caesar and Coriolanus, steeped in Roman ideals.

Histories of Kingship and War

The Wars of the Sable Hart

Synopsis: A multi-part historical cycle detailing the struggle between two rival houses for control of a medieval English-analogue throne. The first part focuses on the usurpation of a weak king, the second on the rise of a charismatic, unifying monarch, and the third on his son's glorious, but costly, foreign war.

Style: A sweeping historical epic in the tradition of the Henry IV and Henry V series.

The Last Tudor

Synopsis: A drama focusing on the intrigue, spies, and religious turmoil of Queen Elizabeth I's court, culminating in the trial and execution of her cousin, Mary, Queen of Scots. It explores the personal cost of the crown and the necessity of ruthlessness for survival.

Style: Tense court intrigue, full of political speeches and espionage.

The Welsh Uprising

Synopsis: A history play from the perspective of Owen Glendower, the charismatic and learned Welsh leader who declared himself Prince of Wales and led a long, bloody rebellion against King Henry IV of England.

Style: A tale of rebellion, national identity, and the moral complexities of war.

Comedies of Wit and Mistaken Identity

The Duke's Double

Synopsis: Set in a bustling Italian port city, a young woman disguises herself as her banished twin brother to find work. She is immediately entangled in a web of mistaken identities, cross-purposes, and romantic mix-ups involving her brother's former fiancée, a debt collector, and the local, bumbling city guard.

Style: A rapid-fire comedy of errors with slapstick and wit, in the style of Twelfth Night and The Comedy of Errors.

A Masque for May Day

Synopsis: In an enchanted forest outside London, four lovers become hopelessly mixed up by a mischievous spirit using a magical herb. Meanwhile, a group of local artisans attempts to rehearse a terrible play for the Queen, leading to chaos and magical confusion.

Style: Pure whimsical fantasy and farce, heavily inspired by A Midsummer Night's Dream.

The Scholar's Wooing

Synopsis: A group of male scholars in a university town makes a vow to abstain from all contact with women to focus on their studies. This vow is immediately challenged when the Princess of France and her ladies arrive to settle a diplomatic dispute, leading to witty battles of the sexes and hypocrisy.

Style: A clever comedy of language and love in the vein of Love's Labour's Lost.

Much Ado About a Will

Synopsis: A wealthy man dies, leaving a controversial will that forces two proud, witty, and mutually antagonistic relatives to marry each other to inherit his estate. They must navigate family conspiracies, slanderous rumors, and their own stubborn pride to find love.

Style: Sharp, verbal sparring and romantic comedy, like Much Ado About Nothing and Taming of the Shrew.

Romances and Tragicomedies

The Sea-Captain's Daughter

Synopsis: A young princess, believed dead in a shipwreck caused by a jealous uncle, is actually raised by a kindly sea captain. Years later, she returns to her father's coastal kingdom, where forgiveness, reunion, and a magical resolution must overcome past betrayals.

Style: A late-play romance full of magic, loss, and reconciliation, similar to The Winter's Tale and Pericles.

The Isle of the Sorcerer

Synopsis: An exiled duke, a master of the forbidden arts, resides on a mystical island with his daughter and a spirit slave. When his treacherous brother's ship is wrecked on the shore, the duke orchestrates a grand illusion to achieve justice, but must ultimately choose between vengeance and mercy.

Style: A philosophical and magical romance, a direct homage to The Tempest.

The Alchemist's Apprentice

Synopsis: Set amidst the smoky hustle of London, a young man becomes entangled with a charismatic charlatan claiming he can turn lead into gold. The play blends satire of human greed with a heartwarming story of true love found amidst the cons and deceptions.

Style: A satirical tragicomedy focusing on social climbing and human folly.

The Gentleman of Verona's Choice

Synopsis: Two best friends travel to Milan, where their friendship is tested when both fall in love with the same woman. The play explores themes of loyalty, betrayal, and forgiveness.

Style: An early-style comedy focused on friendship versus love, moral failings, and eventual resolution.

Complex Character Dramas

The Painter's Passion

Synopsis: A famed Renaissance artist is commissioned by a powerful Cardinal. The artist must choose between his artistic integrity, his love for his muse, and his own physical safety as he navigates the dangerous politics of the Catholic Church.

Style: A character-driven historical drama focusing on art, power, and faith.

The Spy of London

Synopsis: The complex, internal struggle of a spymaster in Queen Elizabeth's court. He is a patriot dedicated to protecting the realm from Catholic plotters but is wracked by moral ambiguity, especially when forced to betray friends and family for the 'greater good'.

Style: A tense political thriller with deep character exploration, similar to the tone of Hamlet or a history play with a focus on internal conflict.

The Innkeeper’s Tale

Synopsis: Set entirely within a busy, lively inn, the play weaves together the stories of a diverse group of travelers: a returning soldier, a runaway noble, a traveling physician, and a local scoundrel. Their lives intersect in a single night of drinking, fighting, and unexpected revelations.

Style: A vibrant ensemble piece that mixes comedy and pathos, showcasing different social classes like scenes with Falstaff and the commoners in Henry IV.

The Queen’s Champion

Synopsis: A respected knight is banished by the Queen he serves after a misunderstanding and the lies of a rival. He must fight his way back to court and expose the true villain before the Queen makes a fatal political mistake.

Style: A dramatic romance with action, political maneuvering, and a quest for honor.

The Senator’s Wife

Synopsis: In the late Roman Republic, the wife of a powerful but naive Senator discovers her husband's closest ally is plotting to overthrow him. She must use her intellect and influence to save her husband and Rome, navigating a world where women hold no official power but manipulate from the shadows.

Style: A serious drama with a strong female protagonist, focusing on intelligence, duty, and political maneuvering.

Here is an original excerpt by the blogger ibikunle Abraham from the beginning of "The Crown of Aethelred":

THE CROWN OF AETHELRED

Actus Primus. Scaena Prima.

A barren heath. Thunder and lightning. Enter three Crones, meeting.

FIRST CRONE

When shall we three meet again?

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

SECOND CRONE

When the hurlyburly’s done,

When the battle’s lost and won.

THIRD CRONE

That will be ere the set of sun.

FIRST CRONE

Where the place?

SECOND CRONE

Upon the heath.

THIRD CRONE

There to greet Aethelred of Perth,

And brave Glamis’ Thane.

FIRST CRONE

I come, I come, the Gray-Malkin calls.

ALL

Fair is foul, and foul is fair:

Hover through the fog and filthy air.

Exeunt.

Scaena Secunda.

A camp near the battlefield. Alarums within. Enter KING DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, and LENNOX, meeting an injured CAPTAIN.

KING DUNCAN

What bloody man is that? He can report,

As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt

The newest state.

MALCOLM

This is the noble Captain

Who fought against my capture. Hail, brave friend!

Say to the King the knowledge of the broil

As thou didst leave it.

CAPTAIN

Doubtful it stood;

As two spent swimmers, that do cling together

And choke their art. The merciless Macduff,

Who leads the rebel host, disdaining fortune,

With his brandish’d steel which smoked with bloody execution,

Carved out his passage till he faced the Lord of Fife,

And seem’d to make him yield. But the fresh Norwegians,

With new supplies of men and warlike arms,

Began a new assault.

KING DUNCAN

Dismay’d not this

Our captains, Aethelred and young Donalbain?

CAPTAIN

Yes; as sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.

If I say sooth, I must report they proved

The rebels’ bane. For as the Norsemen came,

They doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:

Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,

Or memorise another Golgotha,

I cannot tell. But I am faint; my gashes cry for help.

KING DUNCAN

So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;

They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons.

Exit CAPTAIN, attended.

Enter ROSSE.

Who comes here?

MALCOLM

The worthy Thane of Rosse.

LENNOX

He seems to have the haste of one that brings

Glad tidings.

ROSSE

God save the King!

KING DUNCAN

Whence cam’st thou, worthy Thane?

ROSSE

From Fife, great King;

Where the Norwegian banner flouts the sky

And fan the people cold. Norway himself,

With most arterial troops and foreign aid,

Was met by Aethelred; who, with his might

Did quell the uprising. The victory is ours.

KING DUNCAN

Great happiness! No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive

Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death,

And with his former title greet young Aethelred.

ROSSE

I’ll see it done.

KING DUNCAN

What he hath lost, noble Aethelred hath won.

Exeunt omnes.

This excerpt is an original creation designed to adhere to the requested style while avoiding plagiarism of specific existing works.

Scaena Tertia.

A heath, near the previous location. Enter the three Crones again.

FIRST CRONE

Sister, where hast been?

SECOND CRONE

Killing swine.

THIRD CRONE

Sister, where thou?

FIRST CRONE

A sailor’s wife had chestnuts in her lap,

And munch’d, and munch’d, and munch’d:—

‘Give me,’ quoth I:—

‘Aroint thee, witch!’ the rump-fed ronyon cries.

Her husband’s to Aleppo gone, master o’ the Tiger:

But in a sieve I’ll thither sail,

And, like a rat without a tail,

I’ll do, I’ll do, and I’ll do.

SECOND CRONE

I’ll give thee a wind.

FIRST CRONE

Thou art kind.

THIRD CRONE

And I another.

FIRST CRONE

I myself have all the other;

And the very ports they blow,

All the quarters that they know

I’ the shipman’s card.

I’ll drain him dry as hay:

Sleep shall neither night nor day

Hang upon his pent-house lid;

He shall live a man forbid.

Weary sevennights nine times nine

Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:

Though his bark cannot be lost,

Yet it shall be tempest-tost.

Look what I have.

SECOND CRONE

Show me, show me.

FIRST CRONE

Here I have a pilot’s thumb,

Wreck’d as homeward he did come.

Drum within.

THIRD CRONE

A drum, a drum!

Aethelred doth come.

ALL

The weird sisters, hand in hand,

Posters of the sea and land,

Thus do go about, about:

Thrice to thine and thrice to mine

And thrice again, to make up nine.

Peace! the charm’s wound up.

Enter AETHELRED and young DONALBAIN, fresh from the battle.

AETHELRED

So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

How far is’t called to Forres? What are these

So wither’d and so wild in their attire,

That look not like the inhabitants o’ the earth,

And yet are on’t? Live you? or are you aught

That man may question? You seem to understand me,

By each at once her choppy finger laying

Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,

And yet your beards forbid me to interpret

That you are so.

DONALBAIN

Speak, if you can: what are you?

FIRST CRONE

All hail, Aethelred! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!

SECOND CRONE

All hail, Aethelred! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!

THIRD CRONE

All hail, Aethelred, that shalt be King hereafter!

DONALBAIN

Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear

Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth,

Are ye fantastical, or that indeed

Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner

You greet with present grace and great prediction

Of noble having and of royal hope,

That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not.

If you can look into the seeds of time,

And say which grain will grow and which will not,

Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear

Your favours nor your hate.

FIRST CRONE

Hail!

SECOND CRONE

Hail!

THIRD CRONE

Hail!

FIRST CRONE

Lesser than Aethelred, and greater.

SECOND CRONE

Not so happy, yet much happier.

THIRD CRONE

Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:

So all hail, Aethelred and Donalbain!

FIRST CRONE

Aethelred and Donalbain, all hail!

AETHELRED

Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:

By Finel’s death, I know I am Thane of Glamis;

But how of Cawdor? The Thane of Cawdor lives,

A prosperous gentleman; and to be king

Stands not within the prospect of belief,

No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence

You owe this strange intelligence? or why

Upon this blasted heath you stop our way

With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.

Witches vanish.

DONALBAIN

The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,

And these are of them. Whither are they vanish’d?

AETHELRED

Into the air; and what seem’d corporal melted

As breath into the wind. Would they had stay’d!

DONALBAIN

Were such things here as we do speak about?

Or did we taste the insane root

That takes the reason prisoner?

AETHELRED

Your children shall be kings.

DONALBAIN

You shall be king.

AETHELRED

And Thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?

DONALBAIN

To the selfsame tune and words. Who’s here?

Enter ROSSE and ANGUS.

ROSSE

The king hath happily received, Aethelred,

The news of thy s

The Sovereign's Gambit:Sonnet version.

The following collection of twenty original sonnets continues the story of Sovereign Gambit but a sonnets version of the blogger's play exploring the reactions of the characters left behind in the council chamber and the enduring legacy of King Leopold’s final act.

The Aftermath: A Sonnet Sequence

IV. Alaric's Fury

The Duke stood stark, a portrait drawn of rage,

His treach'ry starkly naked to the eye.

He felt the turn of Leopold’s sharp page,

A fool who let the golden moment die.

His oath, once whispered under false pretense,

Now bound him fast, a legal, verbal chain;

To break it now was blatant evidence

Of crimes that carried death's immediate pain.

He cursed his brother’s foresight, keen and cold,

That trapped his future in a wordy snare,

A glorious exit for the king of old,

A bitter prison for the hopeful heir.

The crown was lost, the path to power sealed,

His naked ambition brutally revealed.

V. Lady Isolde's Musings

Isolde watched the king depart the stage,

A masterstroke of wit and iron will.

She, chronicler of every passing age,

Had seen the powerful meet their final chill.

But Leopold had cheated death's dull grip,

And ruled the realm even in his retreat,

A silent promise on his noble lip

That ensured his line would not know defeat.

She felt a chill that had no root in air,

A deep respect for such a cunning mind,

Who left his kingdom in his rightful heir,

And left a bitter brother bound and blind.

The future of the state, she saw with grace,

Was set by one who knew his time and place.

VI. Young Arthur's Burden

Young Arthur, named the king in this wild turn,

Stood pale and still, the sceptre in his gaze.

A sudden burden he must quickly learn

To carry forth through all his future days.

His father’s genius, sharp and razor-fine,

Had cut the knot of civil war's dark threat,

But left a solemn duty to his line,

A heavy debt the new king must offset.

He saw the fear within his uncle's eye,

The venom there that time might never heal,

And knew his reign must start beneath the sky

Of shadowed threat, a blade of tempered steel.

A king at once, by genius and design,

He bowed his head to take the kingly sign.

VII. The Silent Court

A silence hung where once the arguments rang,

A stunned assembly, motionless and still.

No trumpets blared, no joyful anthems sang,

Just the cold weight of Leopold’s strong will.

They looked from Alaric's face, a mask of stone,

To Arthur's youth, a throne too big to fill,

A king departed to his fate alone,

A kingdom poised upon a silent hill.

The power shifted in that frozen breath,

A sovereign gone, yet sovereign still in death,

Who ruled them all beyond the reach of time,

His final order echoing sublime.

The court dispersed, with whispers dark and low,

Uncertain where the winds of power would blow.

VIII. The People's Murmur

Beyond the palace gates, the people spoke

Of abdication and a sudden change.

A peaceful transfer, that had not provoked

The bloody wars that history would exchange.

They praised the king who stepped aside with grace,

Who sought the quiet peace above the fight,

Who put the kingdom in its proper place,

And vanished like a shadow in the night.

The common folk, who only sought their ease,

Saw wisdom in the old man's sudden flight;

No marching armies trampled through their trees,

But calm succession in the morning light.

King Leopold, by leaving, grew more great,

A noble steward of the troubled state.

IX. The Weight of the Crown

Young Arthur now did wear the circlet bright,

It felt of iron, not of gentle gold.

He sat upon the throne with all his might,

And knew his father’s story must be told.

The ghost of Leopold would rule the hall,

A silent judge upon the empty air,

Ensuring Arthur never let them fall

To weakness or his uncle’s dark despair.

The crown was heavy with the future's weight,

With promised peace, and justice to uphold,

A solemn charge delivered by his fate,

A legacy more precious far than gold.

He straightened up, and met the world's cold eye,

Prepared to reign beneath his father’s sky.

X. The Exile's Path

Duke Alaric chose exile, the lesser pain,

To save his head from execution’s block.

He rode away beneath the pouring rain,

His broken pride the target of the mock

Of those who watched him leave the city walls.

The northern lands, they said, were harsh and cold,

A fitting place for one whom treason calls,

A tale of power lost and honour sold.

He looked behind, a last and burning look,

At all the glory he had nearly had,

And cursed the king who closed his life’s great book

With such a clever and effective trap.

He vanished in the storm, a man undone,

His gambit lost, his future harshly run.

XI. The Chronicler's Pen

Isolde took her pen, so sharp and quick,

And wrote the story for the age to come.

She wrote of Leopold, the brave and slick,

Who brought the kingdom peace, and kept it from

The bloody strife of brothers and of kin.

She wrote the abdication, clear and fine,

And marked the hour when the peace did win,

And Arthur took the throne by right divine.

She did not write of Alaric’s dark plot,

But only that he chose to travel north;

The treason’s stain, so ugly and so hot,

Was buried deep, never to issue forth.

She wrote the legend of a king so wise,

Who left the throne beneath a peaceful rise.

XII. The Kingdom's Peace

And so the realm did find its quiet stride,

The abdication a masterclass in rule.

The memory of Leopold, a tide

That washed away the plots of any fool.

The peace endured, the fields began to grow,

The markets bustled, life began anew.

The seeds of discord had no room to flow,

For Leopold had seen the matter through.

His glorious exit, final and complete,

Ensured the kingdom did not bleed or bend,

A bitter poison turned into a sweet,

A perfect tale to bring unto the end.

His silent wisdom guides the reign of Arthur,

A sovereign's gambit, now and ever after.

(The play concludes with the story told in Sonnets too with the peace of the real established by the departed king 's final stroke of injury).

The Architect's Vision

The new play by the blogger ibikunle Abraham The Architect's Vision.

Dramatis Personae:

SCENE I. The Queen's Council Chamber.

[Enter QUEEN MARGARET, LORD AUSTIN, and LORD BASTIAN.]

QUEEN MARGARET:

The coastal city of Fairhaven is threatened.

The Northern King, with ships of mighty build,

Doth plot invasion and our realm's demise.

We need a defence, swift and resolute!

LORD BASTIAN:

My Queen, raise an army! Build great walls!

Send forth the navy with our strongest arms!

The only way to face a threat is with

A greater force of iron and of will!

LORD AUSTIN:

(Stepping forward calmly)

My liege, a wall may fall to cannon shot,

An army routed by a clever general.

I have a vision, not of strength of arms,

But strength of mind: a maze of mirrors bright,

To blind and confuse the enemy fleet.

A trick of light and sound, to make them fear

A power they cannot comprehend nor fight.

LORD BASTIAN:

(Laughing with derision)

Mirrors? A child's toy against a mighty navy?

You speak of dreams while the wolf is at the door!

We need a warrior's hand, not a scholar's trick!

This folly shall be our undoing!

QUEEN MARGARET:

(Considering this)

Lord Austin, your mind is sharp and keen.

We shall trust your vision. Build your maze with haste.

Lord Bastian, provide the funds and men.

The fate of Fairhaven rests upon this plan.

[Exit all with urgency and varied expressions.]

SCENE II. The Cliffs of Fairhaven. Weeks later. Night.

[Enter LORD AUSTIN and workers, positioning large, reflective surfaces.]

LORD AUSTIN:

Quickly now, the tide is high and running fast!

The mirrors must be angled just so,

To catch the moon and spread a blinding light.

The fog is rising; all proceeds as planned!

WORKER:

Captain, the enemy fleet is spotted now!

A hundred ships upon the dark horizon!

LORD AUSTIN:

Then light the signals! We are ready for them!

[Lights flash. Austin adjusts the final mirror. The moonlight is caught and reflected across the sea, causing a bright, confusing glare across the water.]

SCENE III. The Cliffs. Moments later.

[The sound of confusion, shouting, and crashing ships is heard offstage.]

[Enter QUEEN MARGARET and LORD BASTIAN, rushing to see.]

LORD BASTIAN:

What noise is this? What chaos on the waves?

QUEEN MARGARET:

Look! The enemy ships are in confusion!

The mirrors blind them, they see ghosts and light!

They turn upon themselves, they crash and sink!

[Loud crashes are heard. Shouts of panic from the enemy.]

LORD BASTIAN:

(In stunned silence)

A miracle! A true and wondrous sight!

The scholar's trick hath saved the day!

[Enter LORD AUSTIN, triumphant.]

LORD AUSTIN:

The Northern King's navy is no more, my Queen!

They feared the magic of the light and fled,

Or crashed upon the rocks in blind despair!

Fairhaven is safe!

QUEEN MARGARET:

(Embracing Austin)

You are a genius, Austin! A hero of the realm!

Not with the sword, but with a mighty mind,

You saved us all from certain, dark defeat!

LORD AUSTIAN:

Wisdom and ingenuity won the day!

QUEEN MARGARET:

Let trumpets sound a loud and joyous tune!

This glorious end shall stand for all the ages!

The Architect's vision gave us victory!

[A mighty fanfare of trumpets sounds. All cheer wildly, celebrating the triumph of the mind over brute force, a truly glorious end.]

[CURTAIN]

The Scholar's Honour

Below is a new, short, complete play titled The Scholar's Honour, by the blogger ibikunle Abraham which concludes with a glorious and triumphant resolution.

The Scholar's Honour

Dramatis Personae:

LORD ALGERNON: A noble of intellect, not war.

BARON MORTIMER: A boorish, warlike noble.

DUCHESS ELIZA: The wise ruler.

A CHALLENGER: A foreign diplomat.

SCENE I. The Duchess's Court. A debate of arms and wit.

[Enter DUCHESS ELIZA, BARON MORTIMER, and LORD ALGERNON.]

BARON MORTIMER:

My Lady Duchess, these are times of war!

The King of France doth mass his troops,

And mocks our court as being full of scholars,

Not men of iron and of steeléd will!

We need a captain, one who knows the sword,

Not one who reads his time away in books!

(He gestures dismissively at Algernon)

LORD ALGERNON:

My Lord, the pen is mightier than the sword.

A wise negotiation saves more lives

Than any battle won on bloody fields.

Knowledge is power, and a peaceful realm

Is built on wit, not mindless, violent rage.

BARON MORTIMER:

(Laughing)

Hear him, my Lady! He would talk the French

Into submission with his soft, smooth words!

We need a man to lead the troops, I say,

To show them English mettle!

DUCHESS ELIZA:

Enough! Both wisdom and the sword are needed.

But look, a foreign challenger arrives.

[Enter THE CHALLENGER, a large, intimidating man-at-arms.]

THE CHALLENGER:

I bring a challenge from the King of France!

My master seeks a champion to face

A trial of honour: three tasks of wit and strength.

Should we succeed, your lands shall be our own!

Should you succeed, then peace shall reign supreme.

But who among you is brave enough to try?

BARON MORTIMER:

(Stepping forward, hand on his sword)

I shall! A test of strength? A simple feat!

THE CHALLENGER:

The first is strength, the second, a riddle sharp,

The third, a test of tactical design.

Only one man shall stand for Aquitaine.

DUCHESS ELIZA:

(Looking at Mortimer, then Algernon)

Strength alone is not enough this time.

Lord Algernon, you are both wise and fit.

You shall represent our noble land!

BARON MORTIMER:

(Outraged)

A scholar? He will shame us all!

DUCHESS ELIZA:

Silence! My will is law. Algernon it is.

[Exit all with tension.]

SCENE II. The Tournament Field. The challenges.

[A crowd gathers. The CHALLENGER stands ready. DUCHESS ELIZA watches from a throne. Enter LORD ALGERNON, wearing light armor.]

THE CHALLENGER:

First task: lift this great stone above thy head.

(He indicates a massive stone)

LORD ALGERNON:

(To the Duchess, with a bow)

For Aquitaine, my Lady!

[Algernon strains but lifts the stone with surprising strength, amidst cheers from the crowd.)

The Sovereign's Gambit.

Here is a one-act play perhaps the shortest play by the blogger ibikunle Abraham laniyan and also a sonneticvplay

written in the Shakespearean style, with a glorious exit:

The Sovereign's Gambit

KING LEOPOLD: The aging, pragmatic King of a volatile realm.

DUKE ALARIC: His ambitious, slightly younger brother.

LADY ISOLDE: A cunning advisor, loyal only to stability.

Setting:

A dimly lit council chamber within the royal palace.

Synopsis:

King Leopold, aware of his encroaching mortality and his brother Alaric's ambitious nature, orchestrates a final council meeting. He intends to secure the kingdom's future not through traditional succession, but through a cunning psychological gambit. Lady Isolde, the power broker, observes the play unfold. The King feigns a moment of weakness, tempting Alaric into a boastful admission of his treasonous plans. With Alaric's confession exposed and witnessed, the King reveals his ultimate plan: a self-imposed abdication that traps Alaric between an oath of loyalty (just sworn) and his exposed ambition, forcing the Duke into a peaceful exile or certain execution for treason. Leopold ensures his line remains on the throne, then makes his final exit, having saved the kingdom with his wits.

Excerpt: King Leopold’s Final Address

(The scene reaches its climax. Duke Alaric, having been manipulated into confessing his plot aloud, stands exposed. Lady Isolde has borne witness. King Leopold, having secured his legacy, steps forward from his throne to deliver his final address to his court, his voice shifting from feigned weakness to profound strength.)

KING LEOPOLD:

(To Alaric, with a sigh of relief)

My noble brother, thank thee for this truth.

A weight is lifted from my weary soul,

To know the kingdom rests in surer hands

Than one who speaks of treason in my chamber.

(He turns to the assembly)

My lords, my ladies, hear my final charge.

For two score years, I’ve borne this gilded crown,

A heavy ring of gold that burns the brow.

I’ve seen the seasons turn, the rivers freeze,

And watched the common man endure his lot

With greater grace than princes often show.

My time is done. The sands within my glass

Are few and faint, their journey near complete.

My purpose now is not to hold the sceptre fast,

But pass it on before the tempest breaks.

(He gestures to a nearby squire who holds a parchment)

My abdication's writ is here enshrined,

Signed, sealed, and witnessed by the very stars.

I step aside, not vanquished by the years,

Nor by the subtle viper in my court,

But by design, to choose the future's path.

The crown I wore shall pass to my dear son,

Young Arthur, whom you know as true and just.

(He looks at Alaric)

And as for you, Duke Alaric, my kin,

Whose burning eyes betray a hungry heart,

You swore but moments past allegiance true,

When thinking I was weak and near my end.

Your oath is bound by heaven’s watchful eye.

Choose now thy fate: an honourable exile,

A peaceful life beyond our northern borders,

Or stay and face the charge of treachery,

The silent block, the axe’s final kiss.

The choice is yours; the kingdom is secure.

(Leopold slowly descends the steps from the throne)

I go to meet the silence of the grave

With clean hands and a conscience clear of guilt.

The stage is set; the players now are new.

May justice reign, and mercy guide the state.

Farewell, my friends. My act is played and done.

(He bows his head slightly to the court, ignores his brother's glare, and walks with deliberate, regal pace towards the rear doors. The court remains in stunned silence as he exits the chamber, achieving his "glorious exit" through power maintained rather than lost.)

Hark, for the tale of Leopold's design

Can be condensed within the sonnet's laws,

Where fourteen lines must force the truths to shine

And capture well the kingdom and its cause.

The Sovereign’s Gambit: A Sonnet Cycle

I. The Weary King's Design

Within his chamber, dim and fraught with dread,

King Leopold, with winter in his hair,

Beheld the future that his brother bred:

A realm in pieces, torn by Alaric's snare.

He knew his time was short, his vigour spent,

And sought a way to bind the kingdom fast,

A final coup, with glorious intent,

To make his righteous lineage everlast.

He feigned a weakness, a most cunning trap,

To tempt his brother's ambition to the light,

To force the villain to reveal the gap

Between his honour and his hungry might.

Thus set the stage for one last, subtle fight,

To save the crown before the fall of night.

II. The Brother's Bait

"My noble brother," Leopold did sigh,

His voice a whisper, seemingly near death,

"The state is weak, and I am soon to die;

Upon your wisdom hangs my final breath."

Duke Alaric, eyes shining with the prize,

Did boast of plans to "strengthen" all the land,

With treacherous intent within his lies,

A sceptre near within his grasping hand.

He swore allegiance, thinking power his own,

And spoke of deeds that bordered on the crime,

Not knowing seeds of treason had been sown

To capture him for all of future time.

Isolde, silent, witnessed every word,

The plotting snake, by his own venom stirred.

III. The Final Charge and Exit

Then Leopold stood tall, his weakness fled,

A lion rousing from a gentle sleep;

"My time is done," to all the court he said,

"The silent grave is where my soul shall sleep.

My abdication’s writ is here, behold!

The crown shall pass to Arthur, my true son.

And Alaric, whose treason now is told,

Your choice is exile, now your game is done."

He walked with purpose to the chamber door,

His duty done, the realm held safe and sound.

He bowed his head, then spoke no single more,

And left them stunned upon the hallowed ground.

His final act secured the royal sway,

The Sovereign's Gambit

KING LEOPOLD: The aging, pragmatic King of a volatile realm.

DUKE ALARIC: His ambitious, slightly younger brother.

LADY ISOLDE: A cunning advisor, loyal only to stability.

Setting:

A dimly lit council chamber within the royal palace.

Synopsis:

King Leopold, aware of his encroaching mortality and his brother Alaric's ambitious nature, orchestrates a final council meeting. He intends to secure the kingdom's future not through traditional succession, but through a cunning psychological gambit. Lady Isolde, the power broker, observes the play unfold. The King feigns a moment of weakness, tempting Alaric into a boastful admission of his treasonous plans. With Alaric's confession exposed and witnessed, the King reveals his ultimate plan: a self-imposed abdication that traps Alaric between an oath of loyalty (just sworn) and his exposed ambition, forcing the Duke into a peaceful exile or certain execution for treason. Leopold ensures his line remains on the throne, then makes his final exit, having saved the kingdom with his wits.

Excerpt: King Leopold’s Final Address

(The scene reaches its climax. Duke Alaric, having been manipulated into confessing his plot aloud, stands exposed. Lady Isolde has borne witness. King Leopold, having secured his legacy, steps forward from his throne to deliver his final address to his court, his voice shifting from feigned weakness to profound strength.)

KING LEOPOLD:

(To Alaric, with a sigh of relief)

My noble brother, thank thee for this truth.

A weight is lifted from my weary soul,

To know the kingdom rests in surer hands

Than one who speaks of treason in my chamber.

(He turns to the assembly)

My lords, my ladies, hear my final charge.

For two score years, I’ve borne this gilded crown,

A heavy ring of gold that burns the brow.

I’ve seen the seasons turn, the rivers freeze,

And watched the common man endure his lot

With greater grace than princes often show.

My time is done. The sands within my glass

Are few and faint, their journey near complete.

My purpose now is not to hold the sceptre fast,

But pass it on before the tempest breaks.

(He gestures to a nearby squire who holds a parchment)

My abdication's writ is here enshrined,

Signed, sealed, and witnessed by the very stars.

I step aside, not vanquished by the years,

Nor by the subtle viper in my court,

But by design, to choose the future's path.

The crown I wore shall pass to my dear son,

Young Arthur, whom you know as true and just.

(He looks at Alaric)

And as for you, Duke Alaric, my kin,

Whose burning eyes betray a hungry heart,

You swore but moments past allegiance true,

When thinking I was weak and near my end.

Your oath is bound by heaven’s watchful eye.

Choose now thy fate: an honourable exile,

A peaceful life beyond our northern borders,

Or stay and face the charge of treachery,

The silent block, the axe’s final kiss.

The choice is yours; the kingdom is secure.

(Leopold slowly descends the steps from the throne)

I go to meet the silence of the grave

With clean hands and a conscience clear of guilt.

The stage is set; the players now are new.

May justice reign, and mercy guide the state.

Farewell, my friends. My act is played and done.

(He bows his head slightly to the court, ignores his brother's glare, and walks with deliberate, regal pace towards the rear doors. The court remains in stunned silence as he exits the chamber, achieving his "glorious exit" through power maintained rather than lost.)

The Sovereign’s Gambit: A Sonnet Cycle

I. The Weary King's Design

Within his chamber, dim and fraught with dread,

King Leopold, with winter in his hair,

Beheld the future that his brother bred:

A realm in pieces, torn by Alaric's snare.

He knew his time was short, his vigour spent,

And sought a way to bind the kingdom fast,

A final coup, with glorious intent,

To make his righteous lineage everlast.

He feigned a weakness, a most cunning trap,

To tempt his brother's ambition to the light,

To force the villain to reveal the gap

Between his honour and his hungry might.

Thus set the stage for one last, subtle fight,

To save the crown before the fall of night.

II. The Brother's Bait

"My noble brother," Leopold did sigh,

His voice a whisper, seemingly near death,

"The state is weak, and I am soon to die;

Upon your wisdom hangs my final breath."

Duke Alaric, eyes shining with the prize,

Did boast of plans to "strengthen" all the land,

With treacherous intent within his lies,

A sceptre near within his grasping hand.

He swore allegiance, thinking power his own,

And spoke of deeds that bordered on the crime,

Not knowing seeds of treason had been sown

To capture him for all of future time.

Isolde, silent, witnessed every word,

The plotting snake, by his own venom stirred.

III. The Final Charge and Exit

Then Leopold stood tall, his weakness fled,

A lion rousing from a gentle sleep;

"My time is done," to all the court he said,

"The silent grave is where my soul shall sleep.

My abdication’s writ is here, behold!

The crown shall pass to Arthur, my true son.

And Alaric, whose treason now is told,

Your choice is exile, now your game is done."

He walked with purpose to the chamber door,

His duty done, the realm held safe and sound.

He bowed his head, then spoke no single more,

And left them stunned upon the hallowed ground.

His final act secured the royal sway,

A glorious exit at the close of day.

continue

The following collection of twenty original sonnets continues the story, exploring the reactions of the characters left behind in the council chamber and the enduring legacy of King Leopold’s final act.

The Aftermath: A Sonnet Sequence

IV. Alaric's Fury

The Duke stood stark, a portrait drawn of rage,

His treach'ry starkly naked to the eye.

He felt the turn of Leopold’s sharp page,

A fool who let the golden moment die.

His oath, once whispered under false pretense,

Now bound him fast, a legal, verbal chain;

To break it now was blatant evidence

Of crimes that carried death's immediate pain.

He cursed his brother’s foresight, keen and cold,

That trapped his future in a wordy snare,

A glorious exit for the king of old,

A bitter prison for the hopeful heir.

The crown was lost, the path to power sealed,

His naked ambition brutally revealed.

V. Lady Isolde's Musings

Isolde watched the king depart the stage,

A masterstroke of wit and iron will.

She, chronicler of every passing age,

Had seen the powerful meet their final chill.

But Leopold had cheated death's dull grip,

And ruled the realm even in his retreat,

A silent promise on his noble lip

That ensured his line would not know defeat.

She felt a chill that had no root in air,

A deep respect for such a cunning mind,

Who left his kingdom in his rightful heir,

And left a bitter brother bound and blind.

The future of the state, she saw with grace,

Was set by one who knew his time and place.

VI. Young Arthur's Burden

Young Arthur, named the king in this wild turn,

Stood pale and still, the sceptre in his gaze.

A sudden burden he must quickly learn

To carry forth through all his future days.

His father’s genius, sharp and razor-fine,

Had cut the knot of civil war's dark threat,

But left a solemn duty to his line,

A heavy debt the new king must offset.

He saw the fear within his uncle's eye,

The venom there that time might never heal,

And knew his reign must start beneath the sky

Of shadowed threat, a blade of tempered steel.

A king at once, by genius and design,

He bowed his head to take the kingly sign.

VII. The Silent Court

A silence hung where once the arguments rang,

A stunned assembly, motionless and still.

No trumpets blared, no joyful anthems sang,

Just the cold weight of Leopold’s strong will.

They looked from Alaric's face, a mask of stone,

To Arthur's youth, a throne too big to fill,

A king departed to his fate alone,

A kingdom poised upon a silent hill.

The power shifted in that frozen breath,

A sovereign gone, yet sovereign still in death,

Who ruled them all beyond the reach of time,

His final order echoing sublime.

The court dispersed, with whispers dark and low,

Uncertain where the winds of power would blow.

VIII. The People's Murmur

Beyond the palace gates, the people spoke

Of abdication and a sudden change.

A peaceful transfer, that had not provoked

The bloody wars that history would exchange.

They praised the king who stepped aside with grace,

Who sought the quiet peace above the fight,

Who put the kingdom in its proper place,

And vanished like a shadow in the night.

The common folk, who only sought their ease,

Saw wisdom in the old man's sudden flight;

No marching armies trampled through their trees,

But calm succession in the morning light.

King Leopold, by leaving, grew more great,

A noble steward of the troubled state.

IX. The Weight of the Crown

Young Arthur now did wear the circlet bright,

It felt of iron, not of gentle gold.

He sat upon the throne with all his might,

And knew his father’s story must be told.

The ghost of Leopold would rule the hall,

A silent judge upon the empty air,

Ensuring Arthur never let them fall

To weakness or his uncle’s dark despair.

The crown was heavy with the future's weight,

With promised peace, and justice to uphold,

A solemn charge delivered by his fate,

A legacy more precious far than gold.

He straightened up, and met the world's cold eye,

Prepared to reign beneath his father’s sky.

X. The Exile's Path

Duke Alaric chose exile, the lesser pain,

To save his head from execution’s block.

He rode away beneath the pouring rain,

His broken pride the target of the mock

Of those who watched him leave the city walls.

The northern lands, they said, were harsh and cold,

A fitting place for one whom treason calls,

A tale of power lost and honour sold.

He looked behind, a last and burning look,

At all the glory he had nearly had,

And cursed the king who closed his life’s great book

With such a clever and effective trap.

He vanished in the storm, a man undone,

His gambit lost, his future harshly run.

XI. The Chronicler's Pen

Isolde took her pen, so sharp and quick,

And wrote the story for the age to come.

She wrote of Leopold, the brave and slick,

Who brought the kingdom peace, and kept it from

The bloody strife of brothers and of kin.

She wrote the abdication, clear and fine,

And marked the hour when the peace did win,

And Arthur took the throne by right divine.

She did not write of Alaric’s dark plot,

But only that he chose to travel north;

The treason’s stain, so ugly and so hot,

Was buried deep, never to issue forth.

She wrote the legend of a king so wise,

Who left the throne beneath a peaceful rise.

And so the realm did find its quiet stride,

The abdication a masterclass in rule.

The memory of Leopold, a tide

That washed away the plots of any fool.

The peace endured, the fields began to grow,

The markets bustled, life began anew.

The seeds of discord had no room to flow,

For Leopold had seen the matter through.

His glorious exit, final and complete,

Ensured the kingdom did not bleed or bend,

A bitter poison turned into a sweet,

A perfect tale to bring unto the end.

His silent wisdom guides the reign of 

The Duke's Dillemma

A complete play of the The Duke's Dilemma by the blogger ibikunle Abraham laniyan is posted below.

Dramatis Personae:

DUKE VINCENT: A wise and just ruler.

LORD AEMILIUS: His treacherous and ambitious cousin.

LADY SOPHIA: A loyal courtier.

A MESSENGER: Bearing crucial news.

SCENE I. The Duke's study. Evening.

[Enter DUKE VINCENT and LADY SOPHIA, discussing documents.]

DUKE VINCENT:

The weight of Aquitaine doth press hard,

Good Sophia. The northern lords complain

Of raids upon their borders, livestock lost,

And Aemilius, cousin, governs there

With iron fist, yet sends no aid, no word.

LADY SOPHIA:

My Lord Duke, Aemilius is a snake.

His smiles are poison, and his counsel, lies.

He seeks to weaken, without doubt,

That he may grasp the power in his hands.

DUKE VINCENT:

Knows ambition, yet have no proof.

He is kin; to accuse without cause

Would tear the realm apart and start a war.

Must move with caution, though the heart doth ache.

[Enter a MESSENGER, travel-worn and weary.]

MESSENGER:

My Lord! A dire message from the north!

The lords have risen up, but not in war

Against the raiders, but against Aemilius!

They have him trapped within his own great keep,

Demanding justice for his cruel demands

And treasonous plots against your gracious rule!

DUKE VINCENT:

(Standing in surprise)

Against your rule? Then they have proof at last!

MESSENGER:

They do, my Lord! Letters secured do show

He planned a coup with forces from the east,

A plot to murder and seize the crown!

DUKE VINCENT:

The heavens are just! The truth doth shine at last!

Sophia, call the guards, prepare the host.

Ride to meet this kinsman, not as friend,

But as a judge of treason most extreme!

[Exit all, with urgency and resolve.]

SCENE II. The north border. Outside Aemilius's keep. Dawn.

[Enter LORD AEMILIUS and his few remaining GUARDS on the ramparts.]

LORD AEMILIUS:

Betrayed! Outwitted by that pious fool,

Cousin Vincent! The northern lords have me

Besieged within my walls. My reinforcements

From Burgundy were stopped by sudden floods.

Curses on my luck!

[Enter DUKE VINCENT on the field below, with LADY SOPHIA, soldiers, and the northern lords.]

DUKE VINCENT:

Aemilius, look upon thy righteous foes!

Thy treason is revealed, thy plots laid bare!

Yield now, and face the justice of the law!

LORD AEMILIUS:

(Shouting from above)

Never, you milk-sop Duke! I’ll die a king,

Not live a subject of your moral yoke!

Come, try and take me! My walls are strong!

DUKE VINCENT:

Then fire shall be our aid! The siege begins!

[The Duke's forces prepare to attack.]

SCENE III. Inside the keep. Moments later.

[The Duke's forces break through the gates. Enter DUKE VINCENT and his SOLDIERS.]

DUKE VINCENT:

Search every room! Find Aemilius the traitor!

[They search. Aemilius is found hiding in a cellar.]

LORD AEMILIUS:

(On his knees, terrified)

Mercy, cousin! I beg you, mercy now!

It was ambition's spur that drove the hand!

DUKE VINCENT:

Mercy? Showed no mercy when you plotted

Assassination and the realm's ruin!

The law is clear for traitors to the crown.

Take him away and let swift justice be done!

[Aemilius is dragged away. The Duke stands tall, victorious.]

DUKE VINCENT:

The realm is purged of this foul, wicked stain!

The north is safe, the borders are secure!

The people cheer the justice of the cause!

[Enter a HERALD with a golden crown, followed by the northern lords.]

NORTHERN LORDS:

Our Duke! Our King! We pledge our fealty now!

You have saved us all with wisdom and with might!

DUKE VINCENT:

Accept thanks, and rule with humble heart.

My reign is just, my kingdom now at peace.

This glorious end shall last for all the ages!

Long live the Duke! Long live the righteous Duke!

[A mighty fanfare of trumpets sounds. The crowd cheers wildly, celebrating the Duke's wisdom, bravery, and the glorious triumph of justice and peace.]

[CURTAIN

The Knight's Quest

Here is another original, short, complete play written by the blogger ibikunle Abraham laniyan in the Shakespearean style, titled The Knight's Quest, which tells a self-contained story with a glorious resolution.

The Knight's Quest

Dramatis Personae:

SIR PERCIVAL: A young, idealistic knight.

THE SORCERER: A wicked enchanter.

PRINCESS GUINEVERE: Held captive.

THE KING: Guinevere's father.

SCENE I. The King's Court. A plea for help.

[Enter THE KING, looking sorrowful. Enter SIR PERCIVAL.]

SIR PERCIVAL:

My liege, you bear the heavy weight of woe.

Speak true, what sorrow darkens your domain?

THE KING:

Young Percival, my daughter, Guinevere,

Is held captive in the Tower of Shadows,

By a foul sorcerer of wicked might.

He seeks to force her hand, to seize my crown.

Many brave knights have gone to rescue her,

But none return, consumed by magic's fire.

SIR PERCIVAL:

Fear not, great King! Though but a youthful knight,

My heart is strong, my sword is forged by truth.

I'll ride to face this mage and free the maid,

Or die in righteous battle for my cause!

THE KING:

You are most brave, Sir knight, but dangers lurk

In every shadow. Take my blessing, go with speed.

[Exit Sir Percival, with determination.]

SCENE II. A dark and foreboding forest path.

[Enter SIR PERCIVAL, cautiously. The air is thick with mist.]

SIR PERCIVAL:

The path is dark, the air doth chill my bones.

The sorcerer's power stains the very wood.

But courage is my shield, and faith my guide.

Onward, to rescue the fair Guinevere!

[A sudden magical blast strikes the ground near him. Enter THE SORCERER, cloaked in black.]

THE SORCERER:

Another fool doth seek a glorious death!

This path is barred to all but my dark will.

Turn back, young knight, and save thy foolish life!

SIR PERCIVAL:

I fear no magic, nor thy wicked face!

Thy reign of terror ends upon my blade!

Prepare to meet thy end, foul, evil wretch!

[Sir Percival draws his sword and charges the Sorcerer.]

SCENE III. Inside the Tower of Shadows. The fight.

[The battle moves inside the tower. Sir Percival fights the Sorcerer with swords. The Sorcerer uses magic, throwing fireballs that Percival dodges. Percival fights with speed and agility, finally getting past the spells and striking the Sorcerer down.]

THE SORCERER:

Curses! My power fails! The light doth burn!

[The Sorcerer falls dead. The darkness instantly fades, replaced by sunlight.]

SIR PERCIVAL:

The darkness lifts, the evil is undone!

[Enter PRINCESS GUINEVERE, released from her cell by the Sorcerer's death.]

PRINCESS GUINEVERE:

My hero! My deliverer! You came!

SIR PERCIVAL:

My Lady, you are free! The tyrant's dead!

We ride to court, to joy and happiness!

[Exit all, with joy and haste.]