Synopsis
Adapted from the fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen. The young Emperor is beset with illness, and fears he may die soon. The wise old Island King, visiting from his own kingdom, tells the Emperor of the Nightingale, a little bird in the nearby forest who sings beautifully. The Emperor sends out his courtiers to find her, and discovers that her song is so lovely that it seems to cure his ailments. This poses a serious threat to the power-hungry Music Master, so he has her banished from the Emperor’s lands – and soon, the Emperor’s illness returns. The Nightingale, hiding in the forest, must conspire with the kindly Maid of the Throne Room and her friend, the brave and handsome young Fisherman, to find a way to save the Emperor from the Great White Bird of Death.
Critical Responses
“SONGBIRD SOARS… rich, colloquial and often funny… both adults and children can find much delight.”
– Jon Kaplan, NOW Magazine, Toronto, February ‘94
“A TRILLING FANTASY… a tale of potty princes, fabulous fantasies and crazy costumery. It’s an imaginative, mythic world… all rather romantic…and near the end there are a few stunning moments of shadowy menace involving the white bird of death… the stuff of legend and dreams.”
– Geoff Chapman, The Toronto Star, February ‘94
Production History
Commissioned in 1994 by Young People’s Theatre, Toronto. Also produced by Carousel Theatre in Vancouver and the Manitoba Theatre for Young People in Winnipeg, and published in the anthology Y.P.3, Playwrights Canada Press, Toronto, 1994.
Requirements
22 characters, who can be played by as few as seven actors. Multiple settings, chiefly the Throne Room and the forest. A full-length play in two acts. A musical score by John Roby. Requires singing skills for two actors: the Nightingale (soprano) and the Great White Bird of Death (alto).
Excerpt
The Throne Room. The NIGHTINGALE, invited by messengers to come give the EMPEROR a command performance, has flown in the window, and she and the EMPEROR have met. Now, the NIGHTINGALE suddenly bursts into song.
EMPEROR: Wait! Stop! (NIGHTINGALE stops.) Oh. That was remarkable.
NIGHTINGALE: Why did you say to cease my singing? No one ever says to cease my singing.
EMPEROR: But this is a Command Performance. You’re supposed to wait for your Emperor’s command.
NIGHTINGALE: I never ask for anyone to tell me to sing. Not even you, Command Performance or no.
EMPEROR: Extraordinary. No one’s ever talked back to me like that. And yet I’m not offended in the least. I know what it is! You do not treat me as an Emperor!
NIGHTINGALE: No, dear Emperor. I’ll treat you as a friend.
EMPEROR: A friend? How innovative. I have no friends, except the Island King, whom I may never see again. Everyone else just wants things from me.
NIGHTINGALE: All I wish is that you listen to my singing. Which is why you can afford me as your friend.
(Enter the MUSIC MASTER, GOLDFISH BREEDER and FLOWER ARRANGER, flustered, disheveled and out of breath.)
GOLDFISH BREEDER: My Emperor! We found the bird, in the forest!
EMPEROR: So I see.
FLOWER ARRANGER (sees her): Great Heavens! How did she get into the Palace?
NIGHTINGALE: I flew in the window.
MUSIC MASTER: Oh, but dear Nightingale, this is improper! There are seven ivory gates for entering and leaving the Palace, according to tradition! We can’t have guests flying in and out at will! Precious Nightingale, you must go out at once, and come in again by the Seven Ivory Gates.
NIGHTINGALE: But this is silly. I’m already here.
EMPEROR: Oh, now, Music Master, I think we can make allowances for a bird of the forest.
MUSIC MASTER: “Allowances”?
EMPEROR: Especially one who is also an artist. (Enter the MAJORDOMO with a tray bearing the medicine, followed by the MAID, in her new robes, bearing a cup of tea.) Ah, here’s my medicine and my tea. And who is this lovely young woman? Speak to me, child. (Takes his medicine, drinks the tea.)
MAID (bows): If it please your Imperial Majesty, I am the new Maid of the Throne Room.
EMPEROR: We are pleased to meet you, new Maid of the Throne Room.
MUSIC MASTER: She is to be dismissed forthwith, my Emperor.
MAID: Dismissed?
EMPEROR: Already? Great Heavens, what has she done?
MUSIC MASTER: She never earned the honour of this post. She is a lowly kitchen maid. We had to bribe her with this promotion before she would tell us where to find the Nightingale.
MAID: But I would have been happy to tell you.
NIGHTINGALE: Certainly she would. She is a friend of mine.
EMPEROR: Another friend of the Nightingale! We have that in common, little Maid.
NIGHTINGALE: If the Maid’s dismissed, then I shall be forced to fly away too.
EMPEROR: We can’t have that, now, can we, Music Master?
MUSIC MASTER: Certainly not, my Emperor.
EMPEROR: I command that this girl keep her job as Maid of the Throne Room.
MUSIC MASTER: But of course, my Emperor.
MAID: Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty.
EMPEROR: Now, quiet, everyone. Let us hear her sing.
(The NIGHTINGALE sings. As she does so, the EMPEROR realizes something: his headache has cleared. His stomach and heart feel better. His whole demeanour changes. The NIGHTINGALE finishes singing.)
EMPEROR: Why, this is a miracle. The vicious pain is gone. I feel so calm, throughout, in body and soul. My potions and drugs have never had this effect. It is the music! My Nightingale, your natural songs have healed me! The pain is gone, the sickly feeling — and even my passion for owning things! I’m cured of wanting to possess!
MUSIC MASTER: This is an alarming change, my Emperor.
EMPEROR: Nonsense, it’s wonderful. No longer do I fear the Great White Bird of Death! How shall we reward the Nightingale?
MUSIC MASTER: A golden collar around her neck? Silver cuffs around her legs? Weighty jewels to hang from her wings?
NIGHTINGALE: I have no need of silver or precious gems. The tears in my Emperor’s eyes are my greatest honour. Such tears have the strength to cure the Emperor and heal the kingdom. That’s enough reward for anyone. (Bursts into song. Continues, as the scene ends.)
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