ACT I, Scene 2
INTERIOR: CLARKE’s office, twenty years later.
CLARKE is sitting at his desk (STAGE RIGHT), shuffling through papers.
CLARKE
Twenty years. Twenty years it’s been since...
A cautious man should curse his curiosity,
cling bravely to the commonplace,
and reject all occult investigation.
Séance after séance, finding cracks in execution,
and clumsy tricks that prove it’s all a lie...
...but it’s not a lie.
That face, that most innocent, perfect face
has never left my mind.
CLARKE goes to a shelf in the room and picks up a menacingly large book. He sets it down carefully on the desk.
CLARKE
Here, my memoir to prove the existence of the Devil!
Mary was made the very first story.
And now, to add another.
CLARKE sits down at the desk. He opens the book, and proceeds to write a new entry.
CLARKE
A narrative given by my friend, Doctor Phillips:
In a village on the border of Wales,
a place of importance from Roman occupation,
came an orphan girl with guidelines quite peculiar.
The light raises CENTER STAGE on a hooded man, face hidden, his hand on the shoulder of a child.
HOODED MAN
Please, kind sir and gentle farmer, take my distant cousin Helen.
As of trouble, she’ll be none to you at all.
Educated for a proper occupation, and would thrive
if she had playmates of her own.
The HOODED MAN gently pushes the child forward, and then backs away, ready to flee.
HOODED MAN
But a word of advice, sir: give her proper quarters
and leave her to her own interests.
She shall be a perfect, silent girl.
Lights go down, and return to CLARKE’s office (STAGE RIGHT).
CLARKE
So, the farmer did just as the stranger asked of him.
He took notice that she was not like the other children,
pale and olive in complexion, with features somewhat foreign.
She’d go on rambles in the forest from morning til dusk.
Years went by, and Helen crept into womanhood.
Then one day, when the summer’s heat was at its greatest,
a young man, by name of Trevor, was picking flowers by the old Roman road.
Return to CENTER STAGE.
TREVOR
I was picking posies, picking posies,
posies for my ailing father.
It was then that I fell tired and lay down there in the field.
A peculiar sound awakened me,
some sort of special singing.
I peaked out through the branches.
THERE! I saw Helen playing with a man, naked and strange!
Father! Father! Father! Father!
Return to CLARKE’s office (STAGE RIGHT).
CLARKE
When questioned, Helen denied it.
Three weeks later, and the boy was then found,
close to death, by the old Roman road,
eyes transfixed on the shape of a man in the clearing.
Antiquarians claim it the effigy of a satyr.
In its eyes, unmistakeable evil.
In his last breath, the words that chill me to the marrow:
TREVOR
That’s him, the man in the wood.
CLARKE
Then there was the case of Rachel M.,
whose ties with Helen were of an unsettling intimate nature.
When asked, she spoke nothing of their visits to the woods.
Return to CENTER STAGE. RACHEL stands in the middle of the woods, again awaiting the HELEN’s arrival. She is clearly on the verge of collapse, but also relishes in the promise of ungodly delights.
RACHEL
Are you fair, or more like me, ugly as jimson weed?
The strongest seas can’t wash away the poisons left in me.
Well, I can’t stand on solid ground without you haunting me.
Without you holding me.
Are you here, blending within the trembling burning bushes?
The movements just give you away.
So I’ll remain here, amongst the flowers and the thrushes,
til you come up from your hiding place.
And I’ll remain in slumber through the thoughtless snow’s mistakes.
And just in case the chill does break,
I’ll stand here, still, awake.
Return to CLARKE’s office (STAGE RIGHT).
CLARKE
It was said with each excursion, she became a different person.
Then one evening, her mother heard her weeping.
Return to CENTER STAGE.
RACHEL
Mother! Mother! Mother! Mother!
Why did you let me go to the forest?!
CLARKE
Her mother wondered why she’d asked her such a question,...
RACHEL moves from CENTER STAGE to CLARKE’s desk (STAGE RIGHT). In this movement, she is a memory, a phantom. She whispers in his ear as he writes what she says.
CLARKE
...so Rachel told her such a startling story.
CLARKE writes frantically. Rachel returns to CENTER STAGE, leaving CLARKE to ponder in horror what she whispered in his ear. He stops and stands.
CLARKE
(to himself) My God! Think! Think what you are writing!
Such things cannot exist in this world!
We struggle, we conquer, we fail, we grieve, but THIS?!
If this were true, our world would truly be a nightmare.
CLARKE, with subdued tension, sits back down at his desk and continues his scribbling.
CLARKE
She brought her parents to the field of such revile...
...and she simply vanished.
Return to CENTER STAGE.
RACHEL
It’s him, the man in the wood.
Return to CLARKE’s office (STAGE RIGHT). CLARKE, with submissive resolve, slowly closes his memoir.
CLARKE
Et Diabolus Incarnatus est. Et homo factus est.
The Devil has become flesh.
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