Asyia Gover Poetry & Prose

[EXT—Midsummer Eve, on the lawn of the manor. The ceremonial bonfire is set up but has not been lit yet. Fiddle music can be heard in the distance. CORINNA, dressed as Samson but still carrying her Folk Bag, ambles about, holding a glass of champagne.]

CORINNA. How fortunate, that no one’s come looking for me yet. [She takes a seat on the edge of the stage, retrieves the Folk Record from her bag, and begins to write while speaking aloud.] Midsummer Eve, my sixteenth birthday. I’m drinking my first champagne too, and it is as disappointing as this entire festival. I rather like walking about in my Samson costume though, as long as I don’t meet a Delilah. Everyone is inside, dancing gaily, which is something I’ve never had an interest in. [She looks toward the manor windows.] Finian’s red hair resembles a torch, its natural darkness so saturated with the ballroom’s soft light. He hands a glass to his partner, a young lady dressed as the Tragic Queen, with bright golden hair and an enormous spangled dress. What a strange choice, to masquerade as someone so powerless.

[Upstage, the GUESTS, including the TRAGIC QUEEN, FINIAN, LADY ALICIA, and SIR EDWARD, begin entering from both sides. ALICIA and EDWARD wear formalwear, FINIAN wears a fisherman’s outfit, and all others wear masquerade costumes. They walk leisurely, chatting with each other. CORINNA stands up and puts her Folk Record away. A SERVANT lights the bonfire. Another SERVANT takes CORINNA’s glass. FINIAN approaches CORINNA.]

FINIAN. Oh my, Samson the strong! You’re about as far from Corin tonight as you ever could be.

CORINNA. The costume isn’t so much a ruse as it seems. Neither is yours, I see.

FINIAN. What, this? Well, I don’t exactly envy the fishermen, but we seem to have a lot in common. [wink] 

[The GUESTS and ALICIA assemble in a line in front of the bonfire and begin distributing peat blocks to each other. EDWARD approaches FINIAN and CORINNA.]

EDWARD [eyeing FINIAN, disgusted]. Come now, it is time to throw the peat. You too, Corin, throw a peat on the fire and see who your future wife will be.

GUESTS [chanting]. The first peat! The first peat!

[CORINNA, EDWARD, and FINIAN join the line. CORINNA stands next to ALICIA.]

CORINNA. My wife? What’s this about?

GUESTS [chanting]. The first peat! Finian shall throw the first peat!

[FINIAN throws his peat in the fire. All others in line throw their peats in the fire as well, one by one, while ALICIA and CORINNA’s conversation continues.]

ALICIA. It’s a Midsummer tradition. Just a fun little game.

[A SERVANT fetches the peat blocks from the fire and begins returning them to their owners, who then hold the bricks against their chests.]

ALICIA. Each unmarried person holds a half-burned peat to their heart for no fewer than seven minutes. Then, they break it open, and the color of the strands binding the peat together will match the hair of their future spouse.

CORINNA. I see. Quite the game.

ALICIA. Isn’t it charming? [to the TRAGIC QUEEN] Yours will be as red as the peat, won’t they?

TRAGIC QUEEN [embarrassed]. Oh! Not- not at all, My Lady!

CORINNA. That wasn’t very proper of you.

ALICIA [laughing modestly]. No? Well, tonight is a night of no cares. I’ll be proper again tomorrow.

GUESTS [chanting]. Break the peat! Break the peat!

[All except CORINNA break their peats. The GUESTS chat and gossip with one another about the peats.]

EDWARD [smug, turning pointedly to ALICIA]. Chestnut.

ALICIA [shrugging]. Fair. My late husband was fair. Perhaps that means I shan’t remarry. [to FINIAN] And Finian, what kind of lucky lady should we search for?

FINIAN [playfully]. I shall never tell. Ask Corin instead.

ALICIA. Why Corin, you haven’t even broken yours!

FINIAN. Samson doesn’t care for marriage.

CORINNA. No, I will never marry.

EDWARD [to the crowd]. Let us go to the field for sport!

GUESTS [chanting]. To the field! To the field!

[EDWARD and ALICIA exit stage left. The GUESTS begin following them leisurely. FINIAN lingers with CORINNA.]

FINIAN. Are you coming? I sure wouldn’t mind having Samson’s strength on my side.

CORINNA. No. I don’t care for games either.

FINIAN. So hellishly bored. Well, I’ll be joining the others.

[FINIAN runs off stage left. CORINNA resumes her seat at the edge of the stage, examines her peat for a bit, then breaks it open.]

CORINNA. Dark red. [pause] What superstitious nonsense. [She puts the peat away in her Folk Bag.]

[End scene.]