The Prioress's Tale

THE PRISON SCENE LIBRETTO

Jewish Man:
I am sentenced to death.
Are you here to gloat?
I know you wanted this.

Christian Woman:
No.

Jewish Man:
No?

Christian Woman:
My son is dead.
I wish these bars were gone
so I could cut your throat myself.
You could have helped.
You did not. He died.

Jewish Man:
So I die for being good,
For obeying the law?

Christian Woman:
You die because he died.
You are no martyr.

Jewish Man:
Martyr? No. No.
What good is that
To my wife, my son?
I am a father not a martyr.
A father.
Did you know? Did you know?
My son is eight years old,
The same as yours.
Did you know?

Christian Woman:
No, I did not know.

Jewish Man:
Did you know? Did you know?
He needs a father,
Not a martyr.
A father.

Christian Woman:
It doesn’t matter.
I see it all.
There is nothing holy left.
I only have faith in pain.
He calls to me for help.
Don’t you know that I would kill you
Ten thousand times to give him peace?

Jewish Man:
Peace?
What makes you think my death will bring him peace?

Christian Woman:
They say it will.

Jewish Man:
What else do they say?
I drank his blood?
Here, look at my horns.
This is revenge, not justice.
I die for being a Jew.

Christian Woman:
A Jew killed my son. J

Jewish Man:
And Christians will orphan mine.

Christian Woman:
Your wife will raise him.

Jewish Man:
Ask your husband.
A boy needs a father.

Christian Woman:
A father…
My husband died some time ago.
I raised my boy alone.
Did you know? I raised my boy alone,
I sewed his shirts
And sang him lullabies.
Did you know? Did you know?

Jewish Man:
I didn’t know. I didn’t know.

Christian Woman:
Did you know? Did you know?
I taught him how to fight,
To speak like a man.
I was mother and father,
And now I am nothing.

Jewish Man:
Now I know, now I know.

Christian Woman:
Nothing. nothing, nothing, nothing.

Jewish Man:
Then we will be nothing together.
My son will forget my name.
His mother alone will raise him
She will be mother and father.
She’ll draw cool water and carry it home.,
My son will raise it to his lips,
My wife will wash his little hands.

Christian Woman:
Stop! Stop!

Jewish Man:
She will wipe his tears,
Teach him to hold his head high
And keep his mouth closed.

Christian Woman:
Stop! Stop!

Jewish Man:
I speak of my son.
You think of yours.
I speak of my son.
You think of yours.

Christian Woman:
My son is dead.

Jewish Man:
I know. I will not speak of mine.

Christian Woman:
No, Speak.
Tell me more.
Does he cry in the darkness?
Is he afraid of the night?

Jewish Man:
Of course he is.
He cries, “Papa, Papa”
And points to the corner.

Christian Woman:
And then?

Jewish Man:
Then, I move aside the chair
And shoo out the monsters.

Christian Woman:
Then does he sleep?

Jewish Man:
Sleep? No, no.
He laughs, “Now behind the door Papa.”
I could spend all night
Scaring away the monsters.

Christian Woman:
Who will scare them now?

Jewish Man:
No one. They are here to stay.

(They fall silent. The boy’s disfigured voice emerges.)

Christian Woman:
I hear him everywhere!
My son is dead, I know.
But when I hear his voice…
Do you know?

Jewish Man:
Yes, I know.
I know the loss you feel.
My heart also aches for a son.
Your son is dead.
For that I can do nothing.
But if I had it to do again,
I would break the law
To help you find him.

(There is a pause again. They both listen to the boy’s voice.)

Christian Woman:
Why does he sing?
It frightens me.

Jewish Man:
I do not know.

Christian Woman:
It is a terrible thing
To be afraid
of your own son’s voice.

Jewish Man:
I am frightened too.
I do not want to die.

Christian Woman:
What will become of us?