AN: Another late post, but you just have to excuse me- today I had to struggle with a punctured pipe. I never thought that I would ever be gathering water from the floor of a gym using a shovel...
Act III Scene 2
(Pride Rock, a small, dark-furred lion cub plays and pounces around at the entrance to the cave)
Simba (ascending the rock from aside, happily):
At last, an island among the ocean of filthy hyenas!
My home, o place of joy! Soon to be mine anew!
Where is my mother? Where are those I once knew?
(the cub approaches him timidly)
Simba (to the cub):
Hello! Who is this? New life in the pride?
How good is to see that not all here has died!
(starts playing with the cub)
Scar (standing in the shade at the entrance to the cave, frightened):
All the spirits of Africa protect me!
What is this madness?
Have my own eyes turned against me?
Has Mufasa slid down on a moonbeam from the sky
To punish me with the same torture I myself imposed on him-
The death of a young one?
Mufasa…
No! Nightmare made flesh!
This is insane!
(runs out of the cave)
Scar (angrily):
Hold, strange one!
Dare not touch the cub!
(grasps the little lion and growls)
Simba:
Behold the serpent!
I see much more has changed here than I have thought.
You even became fond of cubs! How is that, uncle?
Scar (aside):
By my life, it is truly a dead one revived!
Not my brother, but his son- a copy of the latter!
Not faithful a copy, I hope.
(to Simba)
Simba… I'm so surprised to see you… alive!
Simba (aside):
The liar! The dirty rat!
Soon is his downfall. I should rip him apart…
But not before the little one's sight.
(to Scar)
Order the cub away, Scar. We must talk.
Scar (smiling):
Order him away? But why?
(starts stroking the cub)
Aren't you curious about a new member of your pride?
Simba (angrily):
What I am curious about are the hordes of hyenas at Pride Rock.
What I am curious about is the utter deterioration of the whole kingdom.
What I am curious about is your reign as king!
Scar:
Ah, Simba- you're as concerned about your land as your late father used to be.
Pity you also, like him, lack the concern of the individual.
The more it is a shame, because this fine youth here
Is your brother.
Simba (startled):
I have not a brother.
Scar:
Oh, but you do! Take heed.
Let your mother explain.
(walks to the top of the ledge and roars)
Sarabi!
Simba (aside):
So she lives! Oh longing, begone!
But yet- whence this unrest?
(the queen ascends Pride Rock)
Sarabi (affected):
Such a sculpture of my beloved
Can bare but one name.
Simba… jewel of my loins…
You come back to me from death!
(they embrace and cry)
Simba:
Ease, ease good mother.
Be comforted. It is I.
Sarabi (through tears):
But how? How can it be?
Scar:
Quite simple, my dear-
You remember we never actually found Simba's body.
It seems it was pointless to seek!
The poor cub became so scared with the most tragic event,
That he ran away. And truly- who can blame him?
Happily the land of his exile proved gracious
To a regal son, and now we reclaim him,
Fine in his adulthood and good in his health!
Simba (aside, angrily):
One more word of this forgery
And nor my mother's presence
Nor the strength of an elephant
Will refrain me…
Scar:
Come, dearest queen!
Let us greet the returning prince
With happy news!
(the queen and the king stand together smiling, caressing the cub)
Simba (disgusted):
What is this?
Scar:
This, as I have said, is your brother.
Son of the queen and the king.
Simba:
The king has died!
Scar:
And there is a new one.
I am the king.
Simba (distraught):
No… impossible…
Mother, confirm this untrue!
Sarabi (sadly):
O, where does such sudden sorrow derive?
Scar:
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
Simba (mockingly):
Not so, uncle! I am too much in the sun.
Scar (to Sarabi):
Attend not these words of despair, my dear!
He remembers his father.
Sarabi:
Good Simba, cast your nighted color off,
And let your eye look like a friend on Pride Rock.
Do not forever with your veiled lids
Seek for your noble father in the dust.
You know it is common- all that lives must die,
Passing through nature
In the eternal circle.
Simba:
Yes, mother. It is common.
Sarabi:
If it is, why seems it so particular with you?
Simba:
Seems! No, it is! I know not "seems".
It is not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief
That can denote me truly- these indeed seem,
For they are actions that someone might play.
But I have that within which passes show.
These are but trappings and the suits of woe.
Scar:
It is sweet and commendable in your nature, Simba,
To give these mourning duties to your father.
But, you must know, your father is lost.
The survivor is bound
In filial obligation for some term
To do obsequious sorrow- but to persevere
In obstinate condolement is a course
Of impious stubbornness. It is un-leonine.
For what we know must be and is as common
As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
Why should we in our peevish opposition
Take it to heart?
It is a fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reason most absurd- whose common theme
Is death of fathers, and who still have cried,
From the first corpse till he that died today-
"This must be so." We pray you, throw to earth
This unprevailing woe, and think of me
As of a father- for let the world take note,
You are the most immediate to our throne
And with no less nobility of love
Than that which dearest father bears his son,
Do I impart toward you.
Simba (growling angrily):
Cease! Be quiet! Away with you!
Away, I say! Leave me to my mother!
Sarabi (to Scar):
Submit, I beg you!
Let me calm my son.
Scar (offended):
May peace be the fruit of what has now begun!
(he takes the cub and leaves, curtain falls)
AN: AWKWARD. Simba was very close to tearing Scar apart, but the fact that he is now the father of his half-brother makes things quite a bit more complicated. This is my little supplement to the story from the tragedy. The murder can wait- Sarabi's got some SERIOUS explanations to make!
I haven't given Scar and Sarabi's cub a name. Anyone got any suggestions? XD
