[A STUDY. It is storming outside. REAGAN’s clothes are sodden, but she still sits with her back to the fire. Throughout the adjoining halls echo sounds of merry riot- smashed plates and all. A smell of sour wine leaks in from under the door.]
REAGAN: His royal majesty had to make it a schoolyard tumble, have a ruck at it. The man who was king, sticking his boot up the arse of his successors. I never expected anything more from him. Sure, it fit, didn’t it? Make the whole court sing his damned praises, make everyone remember what a wise man, a noble man he was to grant us the privilege of eating his leftovers. But, should I have ever expected anything more from him? He’s been king for so long, it’s hard for him to imagine anything else. “ All hail the King that pierces the throne of God!” “Praise the King who sees what others daren’t mention!” . Living for years, stewing in a pit of adulterers, sycophants, and fools? It’s enough to make anyone go mad. What will they do when the King is gone? Then again, when you see a dead man, you never ask “ Are his eyes alright?”. More than I can say for that bloody fool Kent. You know what Cornwall used to call him? “ The King’s fair lady.” The twit hated it. Swallow your pride once, and get paid in kind. Goods for services. Anyone could make that trade, even the fools. That’s what we were here for, wasn’t it? I just followed my sister’s lead. Kiss the ring, take your share. Everyone knew it to be true. But that wasn’t enough, was it? She was there before everyone else. She was the last to go, of course, had to save the best for last, poor little bird needs an audience, God forbid she do something for herself for once in her life, before abandoning England for France. You know what she said? NOTHING!!!!! No one knew what to say- small wonder, the twit would never shut up when she was supposed to. She never listened, never heard, only answered when she wanted to. Our fair lady looked about ready to throttle her then and there. “Nothing?” he said, as if he could have ever disciplined her. She got everything she wanted, and he got nothing back in return. We were the only ones who could ever see who she was. Even now, when she cuts and runs to the bed of a foreign king, she has the galls to claim we abandoned him. Even when she leaves us with the tears of our father, he cuts the locks of his fair lady to try and satiate her. She says I can see only through envy coated eyes, that I am half-blinded by my own ambition.
In the world of the blind, the one eyed man must guide them. There is a storm to come yet, so I’d best get busy.