The version for Grown-ups

by Jeff Goode & Jonathan Price
copyright © 1990

 
 -     -     -     -     -     -     SCENE ONE: THE PALACE

                         KING
Guard!  Take down the drawbridge!  Yes, take it down, send it 
back, I don't like it!

     (Miller enters)

                         MILLER
Young man...

                         KING
Excuse me?

                         MILLER
I have to see the King right away.

                         KING
What is it?

                         MILLER
I heard the King is looking for a wife, and I know the perfect 
woman for him.

                         KING
Who might that be?

                         MILLER
My daughter.

                         KING
And who are you?

                         MILLER
Mrs. Baker the Miller.

                         KING
Mrs. Miller--

                         MILLER
Baker.

                         KING
Mrs. Baker--

                         MILLER
That's Ms. Baker.

                         KING
You're not married?

                         MILLER
What makes you think I'm not married?

                         KING
You are married?

                         MILLER
No, I'm not.

The father is Mr. Tanner.  We used to work together.

                         KING
Mr. Tanner the baker?

                         MILLER
You mean the miller?

                         KING
Yes, the miller.

                         MILLER
No, he's a tinker.

                         KING
Mr. Tanner is a tinker?

                         MILLER
But he used to be a miller.

                         KING
Stop it!!

Now, Mrs...

                         MILLER
Baker.

                         KING
Baker--

                         MILLER
The miller.

                         KING
--Why would the King want to marry the daughter of a tanner--

                         MILLER
A tinker.

                         KING
A tinker--

                         MILLER
And a miller.

                         KING
--when he could have any Princess in the world?

                         MILLER
Ah!  My daughter is very beautiful.

                         KING
More beautiful than the Princess Iris of Illyria, who is said to 
be so lovely that the sun winks at her?

                         MILLER
My daughter is also very clever.

                         KING
Cleverer than the Princess Angela of Anjou, who is said to be 
wiser than the owl and slier than the fox?

                         MILLER
I don't have time for this.  I didn't come here to bicker with 
peons.  (slaps him) Let me see the King right this minute 
or I will slap you again.

                         KING
I AM THE                          KING.

                         MILLER
Ooh, that didn't hurt, did it?

                         KING
Not as much as being put to death, I'm sure.  GUARDS!

                         MILLER
You can't kill me!

                         KING
Why not?

                         MILLER
(quickly:) Because my daughter can turn straw into gold.  
(slaps herself) Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!  "My daughter can 
cook", "my daughter can drive a stick-shift"; No! "My daughter 
can turn straw into gold"!

                         KING
GUARDS!

                         MILLER
What?  You don't believe me?

                         KING
You are not only more presumptuous than any telemarketer I have 
ever met, but you are also a bold-faced liar!

                         MILLER
A liar!

                         KING
A liar, madam!

                         MILLER
That's it!  That's it!  I may not be some important duke or earl 
or chamberlain, but I am a peasant and I expect to be treated 
like one or you won't be getting my vote in the next election!

                         KING
GUARD!

                         MILLER
Come now, you're not going to have me executed?

                         KING
No, I'm going to have you exterminated, like a cockroach.

                         MILLER
All right, I'm leaving.  I've been insulted for the last time.

                         KING
Insulted?!  You come in here with this nonsense about your 
daughter, and you slap me and call me a peon (which is high 
treason), and then when you find out you've made a mistake, 
you-- All right, we shall see if your daughter can turn lead 
into gold--

                         MILLER
Sticks into gold.

                         KING
Sticks into gold--

                         MILLER
No, wait, straw, I said straw.

                         KING
Whatever she can turn into gold, it is a shameless lie, and you 
are going to pay for it, Mrs. Tanner--

                         MILLER
Tanner is the tinker.

                         KING
Mrs. Baker--

                         MILLER
Miller.

                         KING
Mrs. Miller--

                         MILLER
No, wait, Baker was right.

                         KING
Mrs. Baker--

                         MILLER
That's Ms. Baker.

                         KING
SEND IN THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER!

     (Girl enters)

                         MILLER
Isn't she lovely?  Now curtsy.

                         GIRL
     (curtsying:)
Good evening, your majesty.

                         MILLER
She made that dress herself.  Now let him kiss your hand.

                         KING
     (brusquely:)
Young lady, your mother says you can turn straw into gold.  Here 
is a straw.  You will turn it into gold right now.

                         MILLER
Oh, she can't do it right now.  You see she doesn't just turn 
straw into gold, she spins it into gold, which takes considerably 
longer, and you need a spinning wheel, which I will have to go 
home and get.  Why don't you two young lovebirds just sit and 
chat while I run home to get the spinning wheel--

                         KING
A spinning wheel will be brought to her.  Young lady, you will 
spin straw into gold by tomorrow morning, or I will have your 
whole family killed.  Including the tinker!

     (exit King and Girl)

      (Miller sings: Buying Time)

                         MILLER
Did you see?  He almost killed me
There was nothing I could do
I'm alive, but who can tell
I may hang before the night is through.

From a pinch
     To a jam
     To fiasco
     Is an easy climb.
When you're trapped
     Then you say
     What you have to
     'Cause you're Buying Time

Lost a minute, Lost another
Was I foolish? Was I wrong?
Guess I'll have to Buy another
Till the next one Comes along

It's time to think,
     It's time to think,
     It's time to figure
     Out what I can do.
Oh my daughter,
     Oh my daughter,
     What in heaven 
     Have I done to you?

                         KING
Foolish peasants try my patience.
All this talk of sticks and gold.
Mrs. Tinker's quite audacious.
Spinning Wheels!  What a load!

                         GNOME
Men and women sporting airs
     with Kings and Queens and Czars
As Capricorn above them stares
     with eyes that shine like stars.

                         GIRL
Oh my mother, oh brother
She's messed up everything
Finds a nice boy in the king's employ
Doesn't tell me he's the king.

                         MILLER
Tell a fib
     Tell a lie
     Tell another
     Is it such a crime?
Short delay,
     Catch your breath
     What's the harm?
     It's only Buying Time

     (King, Girl, Miller overlapping:)

                         KING
Foolish peasants try my patience.
All this talk of sticks and gold.
Mrs. Tinker's quite audacious.
Spinning Wheels!  What a load!

                         GIRL
Oh my mother, oh brother
She's messed up everything
Finds a nice boy in the king's employ
Doesn't tell me he's a king.

                         MILLER
Lost a minute, Lost another
Was I foolish?  Was I wrong?
Guess I'll have to Buy another
Till the next one Comes along

                         ALL
Every threat
     Can be met
     With a plan
     That doesn't cost a dime:
Say a prayer
     For divine
     Intervention
     While you're Buying Time

© 1990 Jeff Goode & Jonathan Price - "RUMPELSTILTSKIN" IS COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL AND MAY NOT BE DOWNLOADED, TRANSMITTED, PRINTED OR PERFORMED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR