by Jeff Goode

(A raucous pub. A FEMALE BRIGAND leaps up on a table with a rapier in one hand and a tankard of ale in the other.)

BRIGANDESS
Listen hard, ye blackguards! And by "hard", I mean "well". And by "well" I mean, with your lips a-button, for once, that a lady may get a word in. For I’ve heard enough braggardry tonight to last a lass a lifetime.

But the true measure of a man is in his mettle. And by "metal", I mean his blade. And by "blade" I don’t mean his manhood. So ye may keep your pricks in your drawers, and prick out your swords, for there’s a pint of ale in it for any man can best me with his prowess. And a prick of mine own for any man can’t.

And lest ye take me for an easy tankard, I’ll warn ye fair: I am none other than the notorious Bridget of Chitbridge, the Fair Brigand of Bristol - the finest swordsman ever wore corset and heels. Not counting, of course, Sir Gaylord of Flouncy, for he’s quick with a dirk in a frock, but that’s a story for another time. For the time being, all you need know is there’s not one man in ten thousand can match me for steel or for wit. And I don’t see 10,000 men here.

Now who’s for me? Or shall I drink to mine own health and be done?

(A COURTLY DAMSEL springs up to challenge her.)

DAMSEL
You’ll be done indeed, when I’m done with ye. Though you won’t have half so much health to drink to.

BRIGANDESS
Big words for a wee damsel. Now, stand aside, girl. You’re interfering in men’s business.

DAMSEL
Men’s business ye may be, but your business tonight is with me.

BRIGANDESS
‘Od’s Bollix! I’ve ne’er heard such churlish swagger in such a girlish figure. What woman are ye then that dares defy the She-Pistol of East Bristol?

DAMSEL
I am none other than the woman whose fiancé you deprived of his manhood, not 2 weeks ago, on the high road to Bristol — and I mean to have it back!

BRIGANDESS
Not meaning to be graphic, young milady, but if it’s been 2 weeks since your man’s seen his manhood, I don’t think you want it back. (We’ve had a spot of rain lately, and the ditches get dewy.)

DAMSEL
I mean, his blade, you russet hussy! That bejeweled ancestral heirloom which his family has handed down from father to son, to father to son, to father to pawnbroker to mother-in-law, back to son for more generations than you can count.

BRIGANDESS
So, more than three?

DAMSEL
And don’t try to deny ye’ve ta’en it for I see it plainly there in your hand - the family jewel-studded rapier - reft of my Prince’s rightful possession, when you set upon him in the forest, and overwhelmed him with your naughty minions.

BRIGANDESS
I remember your Prince, now you mention him. But if he told you there were minions, the man’s as perjured as an orient rug, for I work alone.

DAMSEL
I don’t mean to doubt you, but the Prince is a lofty man. And by "lofty", I mean "tall". And strapping as a thoroughbred stallion. How would a woman alone have waylaid him in the wood?

BRIGANDESS
That’s kind of a personal question, don’t you think?

DAMSEL
He told me you beset him with masked minions--

BRIGANDESS
There were no minions.

DAMSEL
--Robbed him, reviled him, and left him unarmed, unhorsed and unpantsed on the high road to Bristol, without even his pride to cloak him on the cold road home.

BRIGANDESS
Well, if it’s the same Prince I’m thinkin’ of, he was indeed strapped like a stallion. And the pride alone should have kept him warm.

DAMSEL
That’s what I tried to tell him! But it’s no use, the man is distraught, and nothing I’ve said or done. Or fondled, since. Has rekindled his injured esteem.

BRIGANDESS
Did you try giving him pants?

DAMSEL
I gave him pants! But no taut set of breeches can replace the loss of that which his grandmother fought so hard to regain - the family’s manhood. And she’s going to be at the wedding, so we really need it back. Now unhand my Prince’s instrument, or it shall be the instrument of your own undoing.

BRIGANDESS
I admire your spunk - and your alliteration — but did you not hear me the first time? There’s not a man in 10,000 can match wits with my steel.

DAMSEL
Aye, but is there a woman?

BRIGANDESS
Argh! I should have seen that one coming. A curse o’ my third grade education!

DAMSEL
I, on the other hand, attended a 4-year college, and mastered all manner of courtly arts.

BRIGANDESS
Well, unless one of those arts was fencing--

(The DAMSEL lunges to the attack.)

BRIGANDESS
Oh, it was fencing!

(They fight. The DAMSEL disarms the BRIGANDESS and holds her at swordpoint.)

BRIGANDESS
You’re not bad for a damsel.

DAMSEL
And you’re not good for a professional bandit. You say you do this for a living?

BRIGANDESS
Alas, I have not your skill at swordplay, for I was raised a poor peasant girl. So I only learned to fight dirty!

(She hurls her ale in the DAMSEL’S face and lunges to the counterattack. They fight. They fall to wrestling. The BRIGANDESS pins the DAMSEL.)

DAMSEL
Well, it seems you’re skilled, after all, in your own way.

BRIGANDESS
It comes of having eight older brothers. And four younger uncles. They taught me everything I know - The hard way.

DAMSEL
It’s too bad ye hadn’t any sisters.

BRIGANDESS
Why’s that?

DAMSEL
They might have taught ye this:

(The DAMSEL pulls her hair. She fights inappropriately — use your imagination. They fight some more. The DAMSEL defeats her foe and regains her sword.)

DAMSEL
Have you any last words?

BRIGANDESS
No, I’m more of a screamer.

DAMSEL
Then prepare to pay for the wrongs I have suffered.

BRIGANDESS
The wrongs you’ve suffered?? I had to go to a public school!

DAMSEL
Your piteous history moves me almost to mercy. But I cannot soon forget that you robbed the man I love of that which is rightly mine as his future wife to deprive him — his masculine dignity.

BRIGANDESS
Aye, but only after he tried to rob me of that which is no man’s right to lay hands on — my feminine chastity.

DAMSEL
Your what?

BRIGANDESS
You heard me, and don’t laugh. He sought to sully my maiden virtue. I said, don’t laugh. All right, stop laughing.

DAMSEL
You! A maiden?!

BRIGANDESS
Aye, a maiden, I!

DAMSEL
But look at how you’re dressed.

BRIGANDESS
What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?

DAMSEL
Not meaning to offend, but in that outfit, you’re quite fetching.

BRIGANDESS
Thank’ee. None taken.

DAMSEL
No, I mean it, you’re comely as a shepherd’s first ewe. No chaste woman would be caught dead in that outfit - lest she be chased and caught live and soon ravished on the spot by the first man she meets. And then spurned ever after by every man since for being damaged goods.

BRIGANDESS
Why d’ye think I carry a rapier?

DAMSEL
I don’t mean to disparage your character - for ‘tis unladylike — disparaging it, I mean — but, honestly, that dress is asking for it.

BRIGANDESS
Indeed? Well, your future husband did his best to satisfy this dress.

DAMSEL
How dare you!

BRIGANDESS
How dare he!

DAMSEL
I have made allowances, till now, for your rude upbringing, but you go too far! The Prince would ne’er think to taint so much as his nether lip with the likes of thee.

BRIGANDESS
Then how do you explain this?

(She grabs her, and kisses her.)

DAMSEL
My Prince!!? (realizing) You kiss like the Prince!

BRIGANDESS
He taught me things I didn’t know you could learn with your mouth.

DAMSEL
O woe is me! My beloved has betrayed my honour by besmirching his honour by bespoiling yours. Not that you had much to begin with, but it’s the thought that counts. O, I am ruined. Ruined! If you have any mercy, slay me now, and spare me the life of shameful ill-repute - which you yourself must know, having given yourself to the same man. And in that outfit.

BRIGANDESS
Ye may save the hysterics for your wedding night, for I gave myself to no man. I may have kissed a Prince in the wood, as any wench would, but I am a maiden still!

DAMSEL
My love has not been betrayed?

BRIGANDESS
Not all the way, at least.

DAMSEL
But that’s impossible! How could a common girl of common birth resist a Prince of noble girth--I mean, birth.

BRIGANDESS
No, it was the girth that almost got me. And don’t think I wasn’t tempted. Every peasant girl dreams of succumbing to a man of his ilk. Strapped like he was. And armed to the hilt. ...But then I saw this!

(She holds out her hand.)

DAMSEL
Your hand?

BRIGANDESS
The ring.

(There is a jeweled ring on her finger.)

DAMSEL
Wait a moment, that’s my ring! The one I gave the Prince as a token of our troth.

BRIGANDESS
I saw this ring, and then I knew the Prince would never love me true, for he had sworn his love to you. And so it was, with heavy hearts - and certain heavy other parts - we parted ways there in that wood. He with his honour, and me with his sword.

DAMSEL
Wait. What? Why did he give you the sword?

BRIGANDESS
You’re right, that doesn’t make any sense. Let me think...

DAMSEL
O, for the love of St. Blarney! You did succumb to the temptation!

BRIGANDESS
No! I beat back his advances. I swear it on my maidenhead!

(She claps her hand over her heart. She quickly realizes that’s the wrong place, and moves it.)

DAMSEL
Hah! You are no more a maiden than I am a scullery mop. For I majored in equestrian studies, and beating a stallion only drives him on!

BRIGANDESS
It wasn’t like that! You must believe me!

DAMSEL
Ye may cease your protestations for I need no more proof than this: If he kissed you the way you say he did, your heart must have raced. Your bosom must have heaved. Your breath must have caught in your corset. As it does even now at the mere memory of his courtly caress--

BRIGANDESS
It did! It does! The thought of his rough touch incites my blood to seethe with desires only a man of noble carriage — and not insubstantial undercarriage - can soothe.

DAMSEL
I knew your story smelt of fish!

BRIGANDESS
Alright, I admit it! I submitted to his wishes right there in Bristol’s bushes. I gave myself to him, as any red-blooded American girl would do in my boots.

DAMSEL
Aye, those Americans are harlots.

BRIGANDESS
And they like boots. But, alas, my moment of wanton weakness was short-lived, for ere I could reach that summit of passion which no man can attain - but it takes a man to get you there--

DAMSEL
--Yes? --Yes??

BRIGANDESS
The handsome Prince, to my chagrin, exhausted his passions, and passed out exhausted right there in the bush.

DAMSEL
Aye, he does that.

BRIGANDESS
Understandably vexed and seeking satisfaction still, I relieved him of his ring, his sword and his horse. And left him there, panting. And pantless, of course.

DAMSEL
And did that give you the satisfaction you sought?

BRIGANDESS
Have you ridden the horse?

DAMSEL
I was going to wait till the wedding.

BRIGANDESS
So now ye know my terrible secret. And I hope you’re happy, having shamed me so. And in a public place. Where alcohol is served.

DAMSEL
But the horse is good, you say?

BRIGANDESS
O, what of that, when I am ruined?! For no sober man will have me now. ‘Twere better you had killed me when you had the chance. In fact: here. (tries to give her the sword) Give it another go.

DAMSEL
There’s no need of that. We have both been betrayed by a man. Regrettably, by the same man. Now we are two women alone in a world that values a lady more for what she has lost than what she brings to bear. Henceforward, we two shall be partners. Partners in crime! Why are you laughing?

BRIGANDESS
You! A brigand!

DAMSEL
Aye, a brigand, I!

BRIGANDESS
But look at the way you’re dressed.

DAMSEL
What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?

BRIGANDESS
Not meaning to offend, but you jump out of a tree in that outfit, you’ll catch wind in your knickers.

DAMSEL
I hadn’t thought of that.

BRIGANDESS
There’s more to being an outlaw than being good with a sword, and bad with the legal system. Ye must have survival skills.

DAMSEL
I’m fluent in Portuguese.

BRIGANDESS
So is the horse.

DAMSEL
And if you let me join you, you may keep the family sword.

BRIGANDESS
I’ve already got the sword.

DAMSEL
So you have. Hmm... (thinks)

BRIGANDESS
Let’s face it, lassie, I know you mean well, but ye don’t bring much to the table. And anything I might have wanted from you, I already took from your man.

DAMSEL
Aye? Did he give you this?

(She grabs her and kisses her.)

BRIGANDESS
My Prince! (realizing) You kiss like him, too!

DAMSEL
Where do you think he learned it?

BRIGANDESS
My breath. My bosom. You are as skilled at pleasing a woman as any man living!

DAMSEL
And I don’t get exhausted.

(She starts to kiss her again.)

BRIGANDESS
But I thought ye were a virgin.

DAMSEL
A virgin, yes. But I attended a four-year college.

(She gives the audience a sly wink, and kisses her again for good measure.)

~~ FIN ~~