by Jean Cocteau
FALSE QUEEN. What mistakes? Why Gawain? What has Gawain to do with it?
LAUNCELOT. His pernicious influence is leading you down a path of which I disapprove. You have just pronounced several words, in a way which is totally unlike you and which proves that you have picked up more from him than you dare admit to yourself. And then, this escapade of yours! Did Gawain have a hand in that, too? It’s just the sort of thing he would think of.
FALSE QUEEN. You’re petty. I arrive in this room after galloping like mad all the way. I climb the stairs four at a time, and what do I find? A judge. My poor nephew! And just when I thought he had risen again in your esteen. May I say that the thing 7 find strange (she underlines the a) is the manner in which you receive your Queen and your mistress. May I sit down?
She falls into an armchair.
LAUNCELOT. Guinevere! Guinevere! What is going on? What is the point of this joke? I don’t get it. Perhaps I am asleep standing up. Is it you? Is it really you? Or are we both the puppets of a bad dream.
FALSE QUEEN. If you’d embraced me, instead of scolding me and demanding explanations before I could get my breath, you might at least have discovered that I’m not a ghost.
Launcelot tries to embrace her.
Stop it. Leave me alone.
LAUNCELOT. IS it possible?
FALSE QUEEN, rising and walking about. Am I at your beck and call? Really, men are astonishing. You start off by making a family row and then make a pass.
LAUNCELOT, with closed eyes. Stop. Please, please stop talking. Please please stop talking.
FALSE QUEEN. I —
LAUNCELOT. Stop talking! You are the victim of someone or something dreadful that means us harm, and I’m afraid of the consequences. I still don’t know the reason for your escapade, but whatever it is, I shan’t blame you. The words you have uttered since you entered this room may have passed your lips but they did not come from your heart; it wasn’t you who spoke them. I’m not accusing you of anything: nothing is your fault. Refuse me your lips, if you like, but let me hold your hands.
He takes her hands.
There, now. I’m holding your hands in my hands. I’m squeezing your hands. I’m squeezing a shape that is warm, human, real, and part of you. I’m squeezing your hands which belong to you, your hands which belong to me, your hands which belong to us both and which I adore and respect. And now, Guinevere, it’s over. The terror is over…. There, there, it’s all over. Let the poison escape through my hands, the ice melt, the nightmare vanish. You are my little queen, my Guinevere, the mother of my son, the faithfullest, lov-ingest, noblest, sweetest, person in the world. It’s over, over, over. Lay your head on my shoulder and tell me everything.
FALSE QUEEN, disengaging herself with an effort. Naughty, naughty. I see through your little game, Launcelot. You’re devoured by curiosity. You can’t take me in as if I were a silly little girl from the country, you know. Tell me everything, eh? One thing at a time, my dear. Perhaps you’ll come to regret having wanted to know everything. Who knows? In the meantime, a little more patience, if you please. You seem to forget that I am a woman, that I have just done a man’s ride, and it’s already a great deal that I am talking and walking about instead of fainting into that armchair.
LAUNCELOT, kneeling on the chair with his head in his hands. King of Heaven, Queen of the Angels, she whom I left with Arthur and Blandine, waving her scarf from the highest window, was a model of modesty and love. Who is this Guinevere, who, having lost on her gallop both love and modesty, now answers me back and makes me suffer so?
FALSE QUEEN. Encore! Encore! And what does Heaven have to say? Nothing? Well then, I will answer instead. There is only one Guinevere, Queen of Britain. It’s quite true that she was waving her scarf in the company of her daughter and her royal husband, but there are times when waving a scarf becomes boring. The Queen made some excuse or other and left her post; instead of shutting herself in her room, she put on her riding boots, saddled her horse, and galloped off.
LAUNCELOT. And Arthur? And Blandine?
FALSE QUEEN. Are hunting everywhere for me and getting in a state. Hop. Hop. Hop. My dear little horse knew all the short cuts. How he galloped! It was as if the world split in two and I rode through the gap. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps she did lose her hat and her veil, her shame on the way, and her love too. Hop. Hop. How well he knew the road. I must be the first to have arrived.
LAUNCELOT. Guinevere, either you’re mad or I am.
FALSE QUEEN. Who isn’t, Launcelot? Of course I’m mad, and presently I’m going to tell you what about.
LAUNCELOT, clenching his fists and his teeth. Let me sleep, sleep, sleep and know nothing, hear nothing more. Sleep, sleep.
FALSE QUEEN. A sensible remark, at last. I patted your horses as I was tying up mine. They were asleep, covered in foam and dust. My Arab was in much better condition. However, even if Arab horses and women do have exceptional powers of endurance, it might have occurred to you that my horse could do with some fodder and that I myself am dying of hunger and fatigue.
LAUNCELOT. I’m afraid that you will have to put up with the consequences of your caprice. Ask Segramor what he thinks of this tower as a stopping place. Would you like a rat or some stagnant water? We’d finished all the provisions we carried by the time we got here and I have no other menu to offer you.
FALSE QUEEN. Oh, men, men, you always know how to leave the hard work to others. Your lack of initiative is the limit. I repeat: I’m hungry; I’m thirsty; I won’t touch your stagnant water or your rats.
LAUNCELOT. With the best will in the world, Madam.
FALSE QUEEN. Your good will isn’t going to feed me. I shall try a better method. Let me see … in the old old days this tower was called the Tower of Wonders … and wasn’t it also one of Klingsor’s residences? Now Klingsor. … Hm, judging by the doors, the walls should also possess some magical resources.
LAUNCELOT. Neither I nor you, Madam, have any means of making these resources work. Besides, a certain experience I have just had with those chessmen over there, gives me little hope so far as the hospitality of this tower is concerned.
FALSE QUEEN. Go on. Grumble, sulk. I’m going to try my luck.
On the wall to the left of the rear door she traces a star of David with her finger while slowly reciting the following.
Ann is Dick and Tom is Mable,
Ifs are Buts and Theirs are Mine;
Table, Table, Table, Table,
Serve us dishes, pour us wine.
She strikes the wall with her riding whip. The wall opens immediately and a table comes out. Tablecloth. Biscuits. Cheese, fruit, wine. Launcelot draws back.
How’s that?
LAUNCELOT, in terror. Guinevere.
FALSE QUEEN. My, how you jumped. I didn’t know knights were so easily scared. Now, don’t be silly, help me shove this table in front of the chair.
Launcelot doesn’t move.
All right. I’ll shove it myself. Women are made for jobs like this.
She pushes the table across and sits down.
What have we got today? Apples, biscuits, and cheese. Have some!
She pours out a glass of wine and drinks.
The wine is excellent.
LAUNCELOT. Guinevere, you’ve never drunk wine in your life.
FALSE QUEEN. Once is not a habit.
LAUNCELOT. If you still have an atom of tenderness for me, don’t touch this stuff. Please, please, please.
FALSE QUEEN. When I’m thirsty, I drink; when I’m hungry, I eat. That’s my motto.
LAUNCELOT. This is devil’s food.
FALSE QUEEN. Oh, to hell with your scruples. It’s idiotic to deprive yourself and deprive your son of —
LAUNCELOT, looking out of the window. Segramor is wandering round the moat like a lost soul and keeps looking up at this window in fear.
FALSE QUEEN, speaking with her mouth full. When I’ve eaten and not before, I’ll talk to you, and when I’ve talked to you
, I’ll see Segramor.
She drinks.
Chin-chin, dearie!
She winks. Launcelot’s stupefaction and uneasiness increase as the False Queen lets herself go. As the scene proceeds the Cockney in her accent becomes more and more pronounced.
LAUNCELOT. Guinevere! Not you. Not you.
FALSE QUEEN, giggling. Yes, me! Yes, me!
LAUNCELOT. One glass of wine has gone to your head.
FALSE QUEEN. Ha! Ha! That’ll help me to say something I have to tell you. It’s a rather delicate matter … a very delicate matter indeed.
LAUNCELOT, speaking while the False Queen goes on eating and drinking. For pity’s sake, don’t prolong this nightmare. Little is left of our beautiful dream as it is. Harm enough has been done already.
FALSE QUEEN. Harm! What harm?
A pause. She drinks.
You know, my dear, it’s really rather amusing.
LAUNCELOT, to himself. Oh God, what shall I do?
FALSE QUEEN, making little signals. Launcelot! Launcelot!
Angrily.
Launcelot!
LAUNCELOT. What did you say?
FALSE QUEEN. Do you really want to know why the Queen left that upper window, why she secretly saddled her horse and galloped and galloped?
Silence.
The Queen is in love, my dear. Madly in love. And when her love left her she couldn’t stay behind. Launcelot, my dear, Guinevere only wanted to rejoin her love. That was the only reason she behaved as she did.
She gets up and leans her back against the table.
LAUNCELOT, rapturously. Guinevere, darling, do you really mean that? Was it really for me that you were willing to give up everything? In that case, I shall throw up my knightly career. I’ll take you away with me and look after you. That will be disloyal, I know, but I don’t care. I love you and I shall help you to get well. I shall devote my whole life, if necessary, to freeing you from the black magic which is trying to destroy you. I love you. I adore you. Forgive me, my darling, for having ever misunderstood you.
He falls on his knees and kisses her hands. The False Queen gives a Bronx cheer.
Uh?
FALSE QUEEN. Do you imagine that after eighteen years, adultery still keeps its charm? After eighteen years, dearie, adultery becomes a menage like any other and deception a boring nuisance. The Queen drinks. The Queen is in love. With whom? With whom? With a Launcelot as new and young and brave and charming as ever? I don’t think. That is one habit she’s got over since…
She drinks.
… since she has drunk the philter of fire and ice, the philter which brings sorrow. Then who is the Queen in love with? Guess, my dear, guess. Eighteen years. Eighteen years of being a faithful Queen. Here’s to the faithful Queen of Britain, God help her, and to her loves!
LAUNCELOT. Madam!
FALSE QUEEN. So you thought to yourself did you, “Shall I go? No, I’ll stay. Shall I stay? No, I’ll go. The poor Queen is in love with me.” Gadabout’s place is soon filled, my dear. He’s nicer and younger than you and a great deal better-looking. Can you guess who I mean?
LAUNCELOT. Guinevere.
FALSE QUEEN. Take your paws off me. There is no contract between us that I know of. Nothing lasts forever. I love Launcelot of the Laky-Waky, and I love…
She drinks and gives him a wink.
I love … I love …
LAUNCELOT. Galahad!
FALSE QUEEN. Laky-Waky has said it.
LAUNCELOT. How horrible. If he ever knew —
FALSE QUEEN. And what makes you think he doesn’t?
LAUNCELOT. I’m going mad.
FALSE QUEEN. Naturally. Laky-Waky’s mad. I’m mad. Madness is now the fashion in Britain and in royal households. Even steady old Arthur cannot do without Gawain and his mad tricks.
LAUNCELOT. Gawain! I’ll swear that he’s behind this intrigue of yours somehow. I’ve been aware for some time of his increasing influence over you, goading you into mischief.
FALSE QUEEN, who is beginning to get really drunk. Arthur is a wise man and Gawain a naughty boy. Well, I can only say that Gawain … that Gawain …
She hiccups.
Klingsor, Klingsor, your tower is swaying. Where was I? Oh yes … that Gawain has done me a favor, a favor I shall —
LAUNCELOT, brutally. Sit down!
FALSE QUEEN. I shall sit down when I like. At this moment I like standing up. Just to annoy Klingsor, the old beast. Did you know that it was in this very castle that they took the knife to him?
She giggles behind her hands.
Poor Klingsor! King Ibert got his revenge. King Ibert made a capon out of him.
LAUNCELOT. What was the favor that Gawain did you?
FALSE QUEEN. Well, well, so Laky-Waky’s not mad after all. He can still follow up an idea. What do you think of that? Yes, my dear, Gawain did do me a favor. A very great favor indeed.
LAUNCELOT. What was it?
FALSE QUEEN, mysteriously. Picture me in my room. There I am, my dear, mad with love, quite ill, wondering how I can manage to see the knight again when, suddenly, Gawain pops his head round the door: “ Auntie,” he says, “come quickly, hurry up.” So then he leads me …
LAUNCELOT, with a cry. Where?
FALSE QUEEN. Patience, my dear, patience, or I shan’t say another word. I’ve told you that I’m going to tell you everything. So then he leads me…. He leads me to the door of his own room and he says, “Auntie dear, the Knight is undressing in my room, if you want to see something di-vine, put your eye to the keyhole.”
LAUNCELOT, with a jump. What!
FALSE QUEEN. “Put your eye to the keyhole. Quick. Quick.”
LAUNCELOT. This is too much. I won’t stay in this room another second. I shall go and hide myself somewhere, I don’t care where, and take my son with me. I shall die of shame.
He rushes for the rear door and tries to open it. It remains shut.
Let me out. How dare you!
He shakes the door.
Let go of that door. Let go of that door.
FALSE QUEEN. So I put my eye to the keyhole and, my dear….
A babble of voices is heard, very soft, fresh, and high. The Voices of the Elves.
VOICES OF THE ELVES. Launcelot of the Lake. Launcelot of the Lake. Launcelot of the Lake. Launcelot of the Lake.
LAUNCELOT, aside. The Elves!
He lets go of the door and stands motionless beside it.
FALSE QUEEN, advancing toward Launcelot. And through the keyhole I saw, my dear …
VOICES OF THE ELVES. Launcelot of the Lake, look at the Queen. Launcelot of the Lake! Launcelot of the Lake! It is not the Queen! Look at the Queen. It is not the Queen. Look at the Queen. Launcelot of the Lake.
FALSE QUEEN. Jealous, isn’t he? He’d like to know what I saw.
VOICES OF THE ELVES. Slap the Queen! Slap the Queen! Launcelot of the Lake! It is not the Queen. Slap the Queen! It is not the Queen! Launcelot of the Lake!
FALSE QUEEN, holding herself up with difficulty. Either you listen to me, ducky, or you’ll never know what I saw.
Launcelot makes up his mind and gives the Queen a violent slap in the face.
Help. Help! He hit me. He slapped me! Help.
She rolls on the ground in a paroxysm of rage.
Master, master, I’ve had enough. Help! Call out the guard. The Queen has been struck and insulted. Ho. The swine. He hurt me. Help!
Launcelot watches the spectacle in a stupefied silence. The rear door opens. Noise. Enter Merlin and Galahad.
LAUNCELOT. Galahad. Look!
Merlin stands motionless looking first at the table and then at the False Queen.
GALAHAD. I’ve got here in time.
LAUNCELOT. She’s possessed by some devil. She must be exorcised.
GALAHAD. It’s simpler than that. You needn’t be alarmed, Launcelot. You must have been through a terrible time, I know.
LAUNCELOT. I’ve seen and heard things which have put ten years on
my life. I daren’t repeat them.
GALAHAD. You needn’t. I can guess. I have unmasked this man.
He points to Merlin.
He is Merlin, the sorcerer. And that…
He points to the Fake Queen who is lying, sobbing on the floor.
… is his young servant, Ginifer, a minor demon who has the power to assume any shape he chooses and has been trained for this sort of work.
To the False Queen.
Get up, you worm.
LAUNCELOT. It’s not possible.
GALAHAD. It doesn’t seem possible, I know, but it’s the truth. The Queen isn’t here. The Queen is in Camelot with Arthur and Blandine. You are in the presence of a false queen, controlled by this master impostor. Since he can change his shape but not his heart, his impersonation was likely to cause you considerable pain.
LAUNCELOT. My elfin blood had already put me on the right track, but if you hadn’t come in, I think I should have died of shame and despair.
He turns toward Merlin.
As for you, Merlin.
GALAHAD. Leave him alone. We’ll settle with him later. We’ve got a more urgent job to do now.
SEGRAMOR, from the tower. Launcelot! Launcelot! Sir Galahad. Come up here quick.
LAUNCELOT. Is he in danger?
GALAHAD. Not the least. He’s made a discovery. Follow me.
He leads him out leaving Merlin and the False Queen alone.
FALSE QUEEN. He hit me, Master. He slapped my cheek, here.
MERLIN, giving the False Queen a slap. She yelps. Here’s one for your other cheek. It’s lucky for you that time is pressing.
FALSE QUEEN. You’re horrid! Is it my fault if you give me roles which are too difficult for me? I warned you. You never listen. I don’t forget the lines I’ve learned by heart, but there are the others. How can you expect me to improvise and at the same time sound completely natural?
MERLIN, pointing to the table. Don’t lie to me. I can turn even your stupidity to good account. That’s not it. You got drunk.
FALSE QUEEN. Who? Me?
MERLIN. The slapping has sobered you up, I dare say. You got drunk. You knew about the secret pantry in the wall. You have eaten the food I keep for emergencies, drunk my wine, stolen from me, spied on me, betrayed me.
FALSE QUEEN. It’s not true.
