The Merchant of Redmond
by Mitch Stone, the Accidental Expert
Act Three. The scene: A moonless, foggy night, on the battlements of Redmond Castle in the State of Washington. Enters stage left: Gateslet, the Prince of Redmond. He is lost in thought and seems agitated.
"To settle, or not to settle: that is the question," he begins softly. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous lawsuits, or to take arms against a sea of lawyers, and by opposing end them?"
Even as he stops momentarily to ponder his question, a ghost appears, stage right. He is ancient and withered, clad in a three-piece business suit, decades out of fashion. A gold watch chain dangles from his vest pocket. He motions hauntingly to Gateslet.
"Where wilt thou lead me?" the prince implores of the apparition, as he moves cautiously towards the ethereal figure. "Speak; I'll go no further."
"I am Rockefeller's spirit," says the ghost, informatively. "Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, and for the day confined to fast in fires,
till the foul crimes done in my days at Standard Oil are burnt and purged away."
"Something is equally rotten in the State of Washington," nods the Prince of Redmond, in full appreciation of the spirit's plight.
Knowingly, the ghost replies, raising his hand for emphasis: "You too will be consigned to such a fate, lest you revenge this foul and most unnatural lawsuit!"
Before the prince can summon words, a supernatural black limousine appears from the mist. A rear door opens. The spirit of Rockefeller floats in, the door slamming behind him. "Be not afraid of greatness," advises the ghost through the open window. "Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrusted upon them."
"Ophelia pain," the Prince of Redmond mutters, as he watches as the limousine's glowing taillights vanish into the mist.
Enter Ballmerous, the Chairman of the Guard of Redmond Castle, stage left.
"You appear especially melancholy tonight, my prince."
"Hath not a CEO eyes?" he asks, outstretching his palms towards the gloom.
"Twas he, the spirit of the greatest of all robber barons! Ere I cruise the night eternally as he hath done, I must with all my will resist these minions of the government, leagued as they are with mine enemies most treacherous."
"Who at fortune could be less deserving," observes Gateslet's devoted servant, shaking his head in sympathetic disgust.
"Canst these lawyers take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal: except my Windows? Should I not to mine own operating system be true? For what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, shouldst we not have all our billions to show for it."
"It certainly beateth me," shrugs Ballmerous.
The prince continues, addressing himself now to the audience. "If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you wrong us shall we not revenge?"
Drawing a small vial from under his cloak, Gateslet downs its contents in one quick draught.
"I die, Ballmerous; The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit: I cannot live to hear the news from Washington; but I do prophesy, shouldst we be forced to render unto Caesar the cleaving of our browser from our operating system, it will surely mean the ruination of the entire kingdom."
Collapsing to the stage, Gateslet speaks his last, "The rest is silence."
Ballmerous falls to his knees beside his fallen prince, weeping. "Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince: And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!"
Gateslet, now prostrate on the stage, turns his head to the audience, and winks.
CURTAIN
11 March 2002 |
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