SCENE: The Deck of a Sailing Ship - "The Boatswain's Booty"
(Sounds of a sea battle raging - cannonfire and sabers
clashing - pirates boarding the ship.
PIRATE WILLY bounds onto the stage, a cutlass in either hand.)
WILLY
Avast, ye brigands! Yo ho! Strike colors and submit to be boarded. (calling to his crew:) Haul aft to the helm, me hearties. Hoist the mizzenpoop and trim fast the
doozy. Take no prisoners, save the
women and agile boys. And a
lubbard's blarney to the bloke who brings me the brigands' captain. Harrr![1]
WENCH (offstage:)
Unhand me, ye scurvy
scuttlefish!
WILLY
Man that woman, mate, she's
gettin' away! Mind your starboard
jowl! No, yer starboard!
(A resounding SMACK from offstage. WILLY winces. A PIRATE WENCH rushes in and tries to get past him, but he sheathes his blade and catches her in one arm.)
WILLY
Hold there, sea
wench! Where ye think yer garn?
WENCH
To hell's britches ere I
answer to the likes of you, ye daft cutlet. This be a pirate vessel, ye've boarded. We're all pirates here!
WILLY
Aye, and it's pirates I'm
pillaging today - the devil take 'em - for I am one-eyed Willy, the buccaneer's
bane. Have ye not heard o' me?
WENCH
Nay, I think I'd remember that.
WILLY
Well, I'm new. (then with gusto:) Orphaned by pirates I was! And I mean to have me revenge on every last scoundrel. Now take me to your captain 'fore I do
something I might not regret.
WENCH
What, will you have your
pleasures with me unwilling corpse, you filthy, whoreson, motherless son of a
sea cow?
WILLY
Motherless I be - for
orphaned by pirates I was - but I'd sooner suckle a manatee's teat than mingle
my bilges with the likes of you, ya withered old crone. Why, you must be nearly 28, by the
looks of ye.
WENCH
I don't look a day over
25, an' you know it, ye scurrilous scallywag. And I may be withered - by contemporary standards - but I'm
still as fine a piece of sea bass as you'll never lay fingers on. Now unfist me before I pluck out your
other eye, ye couthless bootblack.
WILLY
Nay, and ye'll nae touch
me eye, till I've seen your captain with it. Now where be the brigand?
WENCH
What would the likes of
you want with the likes of Captain Jack?
WILLY
Captain Jack? Did you say, Captain Jack??
WENCH
Aye, Captain Jack, the
terror and scourge of the high seas, and some of the low ones, too. What's the matter, mate? Ye look weak in the gills at the very
sound of the name. And rightly so,
for there's no more treacherous pirate on land or sea. Or up in space, for that matter. Ye've good reason to be terrified.
WILLY
Terrified? I don't know the meaning of the word!
WENCH
It means scared.
WILLY
I know what it means! I was being facetious.
WENCH
I don't know the meaning
of the word!
(He rolls his eye at her, but goes on.)
WILLY
Fear is for cowards, says
I. And I'll have none of it!
WENCH
Then why do ye tremble in
yer galoshes at the mere mention of Captain Jack? (He flinches at the mention. So she does it again.) Cap'n
Jack! Cap'n Jack!
WILLY
Shut your fish hole, ye
briny deck trollop! I'm not
afeared o' your Captain Jack.
WENCH
Ha! So yer a coward and a liar, to boot!
WILLY
Nae, but I tell ye true,
sea slut, it pangs me to hear the name, because I've sought this Captain Jack
for near me entire life. Since I
was naught but a wee bairn in me swaddles growin' up in a lubbard's orphanage north
of New Norfolk, I prayed myself to sleep at night cursing the name of Cap'n
Jack, the pirate that orphaned me.
I'd lie abed awake in that unholy monastery with nothing but me
simmering hatred and the love o' God to feed me when the nuns would not. No sooner was I old enough to be out of
me diapers, than I set off in quest of me quarry. I searched the world over, far and wide, o'er hill and
mountain, desert and near-desert.
And then I figured out Captain Jack was a pirate name, and I started
searching the seas.
WENCH
You poor wastling. And how long have you been questing?
WILLY
Nigh on three weeks.
WENCH
Three weeks without
diapers?! How do you bear it?
WILLY
Double thick breeches,
lass. Double thick breeches.
WENCH
But what's so all-bloody
important about catchin' Captain Jack?
WILLY
I just told ye, didn't
I?! Have ye not paid a heed of a
word I have said?
WENCH
Not really. I was admirin' yer pectorals.
WILLY
Well, what does any orphan
rogue of a waif search high and low the world over for - journeying near and
far, far and wide - driving himself half mad with grief, and the other half
with rum?
WENCH
Well, it sounds like the
love of a fine wench is what you're describing, if I know me obsessions. That, or a whale.
WILLY
(bitter
laugh)
Aye, a wench, you might
say. But not a fine one by any
means. Y'see, it was Captain Jack
who left me a motherless orphan in that godless orphanage.
WENCH
You mean...?
WILLY
That's right. Captain Jack - your own Captain Jack -
... is my mother.
WENCH
Your mother?
WILLY
That's right.
WENCH
Captain Jack?
WILLY
That's right.
WENCH
...is your mother?!
WILLY
Aye, you heard me the
first 3 times. Captain Cecily
Jack, the scourge of the seas, the captain of this vessel. The demon queen of the oceans green. She's my mother, an I'll have you
know. Now will you take me to her,
or do I have to keel haul it out of you?
WENCH
Stow your threats, for
I'll tell you right now. I'm the Captain of this vessel!
(She grabs the cutlass out of his scabbard and takes a swing at him. He barely ducks and draws his other blade. THEY FIGHT.)
WILLY
You! Y'are my mother? Can it be? After all these years of praying - and weeks of actually
looking - I've finally found you.
WENCH
Save your wind for other
sails, boy, for I am no man's mother I.
WILLY
Aye?
WENCH
Aye!
WILLY
Ye're a liar then! For the whole sea-faring world knows
the legend of the dread pirate Cecily Jack, Captain of the Boatswain's Booty
and how, not fifteen years agone, she took to her cabins in the midst of a storm,
complaining of cramps and bloated with "sea-weight". There, she secretly gave birth to a strapping baby boy, who
- fearful for her standing in the naval profession - she wrapped in an old
galley cloth, and heaved him over the stern into the storm.
WENCH
Not much of a secret,
then, was it?
WILLY
I stand before you today,
that same strapping boy become a strapping man. An' that's the God's truth.
WENCH
Then God's a damn
liar! For if your story were true,
you'd barely be 15 years old.
WILLY
Aye, but a strapping
15. I mentioned I was strapping,
didn't I?
WENCH
Well, I can see that for
myself.
WILLY
It runs in the
family. Captain Cecily Jack, it's
said, was but a slip of a wee lass of 13 when she took on a whole boatload of
pirates single-handed. They made
her their Captain that very day, out of respect for her prowess.
WENCH
Aye, I'm full of prowess.
(She deftly disarms him and shoves her blade under his chin.)
WENCH
Now, have ye any last words before Mama tucks you in...? To Davey Jone's locker!
WILLY
WENCH
For callin' me an old crone? I'd slit my own throat if I caught me doing it.
WILLY
WENCH
Like ye said yourself, sailor, the whole whalin' world knows the tale of the tot I tossed in the torrents, that stormy night, those many years agone. And not a week goes by but you and every other mongrel pup in Poseidon's Christendom comes lookin' for me, claimin' to be my longlost, hopin' to snuggle a motherly hug and a day's rate of rations out of me for pity. But the day's not half done 'fore, they're all clapped in irons and fed to the sharks, because not one of 'em thought to mention the golden locket I tucked into the seam of the wee squalling newborn's bedding - so that one day his doting mother would know him on sight - before I dumped him off the poop deck and into the squalls.
WILLY
I have a locket.
WENCH
Ye what?
(She refrains from killing him.)
WILLY
Aye, a golden locket that was lodged in me gullet when they dredged me out of the foam at New Norfolk. They had to uncork it from me ere I could breathe right. I didn't know what it was for, but the sisters at the orphanage let me keep it because it was too sticky with sea goo to pawn at the rectory shop.
WENCH
Then it's true! Ye are my wee castaway bairn!
WILLY
As sure as ye're my
bairn-casting mairn.
WENCH
And you've come all this way to be reunited with your prodigal mum?
WILLY
Aye, mother, I have.
WENCH
I hope yer not thinkin' we can just take up where we left off.
WILLY
Well, we left off with you heaving me to the sharks, so, no, I'd rather not start there.
WENCH
I guess that's understandable.
WILLY
Nor would I care to start any otherwhere, for I want nothing to do with you.
WENCH
WILLY
To gut you like a salmon
fish, ye heartless harpy!
(He knocks her backward and seizes her weapon. THEY FIGHT.)
WILLY
I've hated you all these many years, for abandoning me when I was but a hapless swaddle, and I mean to fillet you alive for it and see if that improves me self-esteem.
WENCH
Have ye no mercy then?
WILLY
Mercy? Why, ye're lucky I don't lash you to the mainmast and flog out a drubbing for every time the cruel Sisters of Saint Salome's wore out a leather strap on my behind--(sobs)--when it should have been me own mum!
(He stops fighting and starts to weep, then lunges at her - pinning her to the mast.)
WILLY
Have you naught to say for yourself, before I scuttle you like an old harbor tug?
WENCH
You'd murder your own mother?
WILLY
With no more remorse than I'd throttle a mangy wharf rat.
WENCH
Well, all right, then, do it and be quick about it.
WILLY
I'll do it when I please.
WENCH
You'll do it when I say, I haven't got all day for this.
WILLY
Don't tell me what to do.
WENCH
I'll tell you anything I like. This is still my ship.
WILLY
Ye're not the boss o' me!
WENCH
Don't sass your mother! It's insubordination.
WILLY
I don't care if y'are my mother. I'll sass as I please. And I'll kill you when I kill you and not a moment before. For what you've done to me, I ought to kill my grandmother, too.
WENCH
Oh, leave her be, son. The woman has cats.
WILLY
All right, my father then. I'll kill him. Where is he?
WENCH
Sweet Neptune's privy! If I knew that, you think I'd still be running a boat? It's every little girl's dream - even a successful career pirate like myself - to give up all her ambitions and raise a child in a little house with a white picket fence and a hulking man at her side to take care of her, just like in all the romance tales.
WILLY
Really?
WENCH
No, of course not.
WILLY
Then tell me who my father is.
Or so help me, I'll spit you where you stand.
WENCH
You'd best go ahead and spit me then, because I haven't the
slightest idea. It could be any
one of these blackguards. (She
gestures toward the crew.)
WILLY
You mean to say ye slept with your entire crew?
WENCH
Once a week, whether they needed it or not. There's not a man jack on this boat hasn't had Captain Jack's booty. Promotes morale. There's no greater loyalty than the love of a man for the only woman who'll have him. Why do you think they made me Captain?
WILLY
I thought it was because you took on a boatload of pirates single-handed.
WENCH
Aye. But I didn't use my hands.
WILLY
Ugh! You're nothing but a dirty deck harlot! A galley slattern! A cargo ho!
WENCH
Watch your mouth. I'm still your mother.
WILLY
I'd rather I were still a motherless bastard than the whoreson whelp of a scullery pump.
WENCH
It's what I had to be, son, in order to survive. The sea is a cruel mistress. And she's even crueler if you're a supple young lass on a ship full of men whose only other mistress is the cruel sea. It was either learn to love my crew, or learn to love being tied down to a galley table while my crew learned to love me. And let me tell you, they're slow learners. So I made my choices. Choices you, as a man, may never have to make.
WILLY
You forget, I was brought up in a catholic orphanage.
WENCH
Oh, that's right.
WILLY
Why do you think they call me one-eye Willy?
WENCH
It's not because of the patch?
WILLY
No, the patch is so they don't ask me why the monks call me one-eye Willy.
WENCH
Ew.
WILLY
But we don't have to talk about that.
(He straightens his eyepatch.)
WENCH
Am I proud of what I've done? Am I proud of tossing my only babe in a bundle off the poop deck in a storm to spare him from a life of piracy which it turns out he went ahead and took up on his own anyway? ...Frankly, no, that's kind of embarrassing. But am I proud of being able to suck a cannonball through forty feet of cast iron stove pipe? Hell, yes, I am! You try it. It's quite an accomplishment. But this is the life that chose me, son. And there's nothing for it, but to make the best chowder from what's in your net.
WILLY
I never thought of it that way. I guess I didn't know.
WENCH
There's a lot of things you didn't know about me, lad.
WILLY
But I want to know. I want us to be a family. A pirate family.
WENCH
That's all I needed to hear! Come to my arms, my brackish boy.
(They embrace. They KISS. It lasts a little too long. He suddenly pulls away.)
WILLY
Ugh! Mum! I'm your boy!
WENCH
Well, I warned you I was a fine dish of sea bass.
WILLY
You are, at that.
WENCH
I told ye.
WILLY
And how was I?
WENCH
You kiss like a shipful of sailors on shore leave.
WILLY
And that's good?
WENCH
No, that's very bad.
WILLY
Arr!
WENCH
But you'll learn...
(She puts her arm around him, and they wander off into the salty sunset...)
WILLY
So how'd you come to find yourself alone at 13 on a boat full of pirates in the first place?
WENCH
They answered my ad.
(BLACKOUT)