MASTER AND SLAVE

Copyright 2014 by Anthony S. Maulucci

SCENE: An open space with a pile of rubbish.

TIME: The present

CHARACTERS: (may be played by men or women)

MASTER

 SLAVE

The MASTER  and SLAVE enter. The SLAVE carries a burden. The MASTER stops stage center, looks around.

MASTER: This will do. You may put down your burden.

SLAVE: Where, Master?

MASTER: [points to a spot] There.

SLAVE: Yes, Master.

MASTER: Find me something to sit on. I’m tired.

SLAVE: Yes, Master.

[The SLAVE rummages through the rubbish heap and pulls out an old chair without a back. He sets it in place with much ceremony, adjusting it, studying it.

MASTER: Well? Have you found something?

SLAVE: There you are, Master. Your throne.

[The MASTER looks it over, nods his approval, sits.

MASTER: Not bad. You’re not such a bad slave.

SLAVE: Thank you, Master. May I sit?

MASTER: First unpack our lunch.

SLAVE: Yes, of course, Master.

[Ceremoniously, the SLAVE unpacks things from the bundle, spreads a cloth, sets out the meager lunch of bread and cheese.

MASTER: No, you’re not such a bad slave, despite what my wife says about you.

SLAVE: Thank you, Master.

[The SLAVE serves the MASTER his lunch with great ceremony.

MASTER: Is this all you brought? Bread and cheese? You idiot! [Throws the food and the utensils to the ground. Slaps the SLAVE across the face.] How in heaven’s name am I supposed to stay healthy with only bread and cheese to eat!

SLAVE: I’m sorry, Master.

MASTER: Did you bring any wine?

SLAVE: I forgot the wine.

MASTER: You moron! [Slaps him again]

SLAVE: I brought some fruit, Master. An orange.

MASTER: You know I prefer grapes! Why didn’t you bring grapes!

SLAVE: I thought they would get crushed on the journey, Master.

MASTER: Leave the thinking to me, you idiot.

SLAVE: Yes, Master. I am an idiot. That’s certain.

MASTER: Put the lunch away. I’m not hungry anymore.

SLAVE: Do you want some coffee?

MASTER: Yes. Serve me my coffee.

[The SLAVE puts away the lunch and takes out a thermos, pours coffee into a mug.

MASTER: I have half a mind to send you back for more food.

SLAVE: But it’s a long and tiring journey, Master.

MASTER: What do I care? I’ll wait here and take my nap while you’re gone.

SLAVE: Yes, Master.

MASTER: But then knowing my wife, she will detain you and question you, and when she finds out what we’re up to she’ll send out a search party.

SLAVE: She’ll probably do that, Master.

MASTER: There’s no “probably” about it. Come here!

[The SLAVE steps over to the MASTER and the MASTER kicks him hard.

SLAVE: [going down on his knees as he grimaces in pain] What was that for?

MASTER: Never mind. For being an oaf and an idiot. For having the nerve to express an opinion in my presence.  For having a look on your face.

SLAVE: What look?

MASTER: Never mind!

SLAVE: Well, yes, I did have a look. That’s certain.

[The MASTER kicks him again.

SLAVE: I deserved that one.

MASTER: Yes, you did.

SLAVE: That’s certain.

MASTER: Yes, that’s certain.

SLAVE: [in a whiny voice] Why must you mistreat me, Master?

MASTER: Why? Because you’re my slave. And stop speaking to me in that whining tone of voice. You know I can’t stand it when you whine.

SLAVE: I’ll try not to whine, Master, if you would try not to lose your temper and kick me . . . so hard. Just a little kick, perhaps, but not so hard. I have many bruises, Master, and they keep me awake at night. It is not such a pleasant life for me, you know, being bossed around and kicked about all the time like a football. I am not a football, that’s certain. I am a man with his own pride and his own dignity. I am entitled to my feelings. I have many feelings of my own. You would know about them if you asked me. If only you were kinder to me. If only you showed me a little kindness what a different sort of relationship we could have. I would do everything you asked me to do with a smile if you weren’t so cruel to me. Yes, I would do everything and more out of my love and respect for you. Don’t you realize that? But you are a cruel, uncaring master.

MASTER: [hasn’t been listening] Are you through with your whining? Can we move on now? We have a lot of ground to cover. [He stands up.] Pick up your burden. Let’s go!

SLAVE: I am tired, Master.

MASTER: I’m not. I said let’s go!

SLAVE: I must refuse, Master. My legs are tired and I must rest. That’s certain.

MASTER: Do you defy me?

SLAVE: Yes, I defy you.

MASTER: How dare you!

SLAVE: Yes, how dare I. But somehow I do.

MASTER: I will kill you if you don’t obey.

SLAVE: Yes, that’s certain. But somehow I do not obey.

MASTER: Come over here.

SLAVE: Somehow I cannot. Somehow I must stay right where I am.

MASTER: I will whip you. Hand me my whip.

SLAVE: I cannot.

MASTER: Hand me my whip, I tell you. NOW!

[The SLAVE takes the MASTER’s whip out of the bundle. He holds it for a moment and then unwinds it.

SLAVE: Here it is.

MASTER: Give it to me!

SLAVE: Somehow I cannot.

MASTER: GIVE IT TO ME!

[The SLAVE snaps the whip open and lashes the MASTER.

SLAVE: There. Now you have it. That’s certain.

MASTER: How dare you!

[The SLAVE lashes the MASTER again.

SLAVE: Somehow I dare.

MASTER: I will kill you!

SLAVE: Somehow I do not think so. Somehow I think I am the master now.

[The SLAVE throws down the burden, and sits on the chair while the MASTER remains crouching and protecting his face with his arms.

MASTER: Please do not whip me!

SLAVE: Somehow I think I must.

[The SLAVE lashes the MASTER again. He cries out in pain.

SLAVE:  Fetch my lunch, Slave. [cracks the whip] Do it now!

MASTER: Yes, Master.

SLAVE: And serve it to me in the usual manner or you will feel the sting of my whip. Hurry up! And make no mistakes! Do it perfectly, or else . . .!

MASTER: Yes, Master.

SLAVE: What a fool you are! What an idiot! I shall have you put to death one of these days for being such an idiot. I don’t know why I put up with you! Hurry up now! I am hungry! I don’t have all day.

[As the MASTER comes closer with the lunch the SLAVE kicks him hard.

MASTER: What was that for?

SLAVE: Never mind. Just because you deserve it for being such a lazy good-for-nothing oaf! Where is my onion soup? You know I like to begin the meal with onion soup!

MASTER: There is no onion soup, Master.

SLAVE: What?! No onion soup!? You cretin! [kicks him] I will make you a cripple. I’ll fix you so you have to crawl on your knees whenever I call you. I will fix you so that you can never have children. How would you like that? That will teach you to forget my onion soup.

MASTER: Please do not mistreat me, Master. Please don’t beat me.

SLAVE: I don’t mistreat you. It’s all in your mind. I treat you just as you deserve.  

MASTER: But you kick me too hard when you beat me.

SLAVE: Stop your whining! You know I can’t stand it when you complain. You’re lucky that I don’t put you to death this very instant. Kiss my hand.

[The SLAVE holds out his hand and the MASTER kisses it.

SLAVE: That’s more like it. You dog! Lick my hand, you dog! Lick it like the filthy beast that you are and don’t you ever forget who is the real master here!

MASTER: [Licking the SLAVE’s hand] You are the Master.

SLAVE: Say it again.

MASTER: [Licking the SLAVE’s hand ]You are the master.

SLAVE: That’s certain! And don’t you ever forget it!

BLACKOUT