{"id":2048,"date":"2014-12-11T18:56:05","date_gmt":"2014-12-12T00:56:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/?p=2048"},"modified":"2014-12-11T19:03:48","modified_gmt":"2014-12-12T01:03:48","slug":"short-play-6-leonardo-dreams-of-his-flying-machine","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/?p=2048","title":{"rendered":"Short Play 6 – Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Leonardo,<\/a>

Leonardo, from Futurama<\/p><\/div>\n

Obviously inspired by the song of the same name. This one needs a lot of work for… whatever it is… but I like the Renaissance and Leonardo and whatnot.<\/p>\n

Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine<\/strong><\/span>*<\/p>\n

The title of this play, and all words in quotations, are taken from Charles Anthony Silvestri\u2019s poem: \u201cLeonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lights up on LEONARDO\u2019S chamber. It is cluttered with Renaissance bric-a-brak. A single candle illuminates the very-late-night scene. LEONARDO is pacing back and forth in the clutter. Occasionally he references a sheet of paper or examines one of the many contraptions, but mostly he paces, talks to himself, and frets.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Hanging from the back wall is a huge set of handmade wings, large enough to theoretically lift a man. They are in prominent view. Once or twice, LEONARDO ceases his pacing, looks up at the wings, then resumes.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A single great window, looking out on the night sky, is the only clear space in the chamber.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Slowly, warmly, a light comes from above. We can hear a heavenly choir singing, as from a great distance, \u201cLeonardo\u2026 Leonardo\u2026 come fly\u2026\u201d LEONARDO grabs his head, shakes it, pushes it against a wall, but nothing can silence the maddeningly beautiful voices. Finally he shrieks and falls against the wings, bracing himself with his aged hands. At the shriek, the heavenly choir and the light fade away<\/em>.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cA man with wings large enough, and duly connected\u2026 might learn to overcome the resistance of the air.\u201d He might<\/em>\u2026 he might learn<\/em>\u2026<\/p>\n

The light increases slightly as a candle enters. The candle is born by ICARINA, a young servant girl. She slowly lights other candles about the room, and the scene becomes lighter. As she moves, ICARINA adjusts a few fallen articles, tidies up an area or two, but mostly moves silently. Until\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

My head is most strongly in the clouds tonight.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

Good morning, Mister Da Vinci.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

(turns and offers paternal joy<\/em>) Icarina! Is it morning already?<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

Sunrise very shortly, sir.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

The Sun, like the great Phoenix herself, floats up into the sky, tormenting us with his sweet, unattainable joy. What would you do, Icarina, if you could fly like the seagull or the falcon?<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

My happiness is simple, sir. I have your breakfast.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

Very good. Today\u2026 Today is, I think, perhaps, the day, Icarina.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

The day you leap?<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

Yes. Perhaps. \u2026 Maybe\u2026 But imagine it, child. Imagine yourself, not as muted clay bound to the Earth, but free as spirits and feathers, as\u2026 as\u2026 as birds, as the angels that surpass us as much in glory and might and wisdom and beauty as we the ants we tread upon.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

Oh sir, you needn\u2019t ask. I imagine it all the time. I dream of it.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dream?<\/p>\n

Slowly, the Sun begins to rise<\/em>.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

Always. Every night, I seem to wake in a fever, and the heavens cry to me, \u201cCome, come fly in our spheres.\u201d And they sing so beautifully I wake myself with weeping and pray to sleep again. You cannot think, Sir, that I should spend my every day here, and never dream of flying.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

Why no, no, of course. I merely\u2026 I thought\u2026<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

You thought me simple, sir. A girl, and a child.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

You are uneducated.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

I am simple, sir. My joys are simple. They must be. But I dream, sir. Those wings beckon me in the midnight fields, they embrace me and carry me up into the heavens to see my father again. And his smile shames the Sun for shining glory, and he holds me and welcomes me and says I am home again at last.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

That is a charming thought.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

It is, sir. But my wings and I are drawn to greater things, and we fly higher up and up and dance among the stars, and swim in darkness like the deep and ancient creatures of the Seas My wings and I swoop and leap and dive and pirouette between the planets and the comets. And there, perhaps, as hideous beasts swim beneath us now, creatures more beautiful than we could ever fathom float and swim and fly out there, and I would join them for a moment. And like an ant, I\u2019d fear their tails or talons or brilliant fires, but I out-sway them all, and plummet back to Paradise, and tell my father how I had the wit to rise and see the ceiling of creation. And then, with the rain clouds, I descend into our home, into my bed, and wake in tears. And I weep and wonder: why must we wake from dreams?<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

Those are beautiful dreams.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

They are. But, so is this ham.<\/p>\n

ICARINA produces some ham and bread and sets it on a small space she has cleared off. She helps herself to small portions<\/em>.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ah! Yes. The heavens call us, but we are mortal, and must subsist.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

Do you think your wings will work?<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

They must, but therein lies the danger. A bird learns to fly by falling from the nest. Sadly, I fear I favor my head more highly than it is worth, and have little desire to dash it upon the cobblestones for the sake of my own research, which would consequently end shortly thereafter.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

Your life is very valuable, sir.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

In a sense, yes. Certainly to me. But still\u2026 how shall we ever know? A bird is simply kicked out of her nest by her mother. Presumably, the mother knows the hatchling is ready. But we must cast ourselves out into the sky, without anyone to tell us we are ready.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO eats. As he does so, ICARINA takes the wings down from the wall and affixes them to her back<\/em>.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

Everything has a cause. Falling, even, has a cause. Yet there are those things that overcome this cause. The birds, the clouds, the Sun and Moon. We cannot be as vapor, as the clouds, nor transmute ourselves to living light, so we must emulate the birds, who ignorant of beauty are themselves<\/em> most beautiful. I wonder if we, who know the majesty of flight, will ever be capable of it. I sometimes wonder if something as simple as walking is a thing of true beauty, and we who are so natural in it have no concept of such greatness. But we must know. We must risk. Diogenes carried the lantern in the daylight. Socrates drank the hemlock, unknowing of his fate and thence unfearing. We must leap. I<\/em> must leap.<\/p>\n

The lights above brighten again. ICARINA tests the weight of the wings. Finding them satisfactory, she crosses to the window and climbs into it, preparing to leap out.<\/em><\/p>\n

Above, again, we hear the heavens sing, \u201cLeonardo\u2026 Leonardo\u2026 come fly\u2026\u201d LEONARDO looks up and wonders, then with a gasp he looks to the window<\/em>.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

Icarina! Don\u2019t move!<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

I cannot stay earthbound, sir.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

Icarina! \u2026 (he stifles a chuckle<\/em>) You have a very inauspicious name, Icarina.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

We must fly.<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

I do not think those wings will like you.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cClose to the sphere of elemental fire\u2026 in the highest and rarest atmosphere.\u201d<\/p>\n

LEONARDO<\/strong><\/p>\n

Icarina. Please. Come down.<\/p>\n

ICARINA<\/strong><\/p>\n

Your life is valuable, sir. You are a man. I am\u2026<\/p>\n

The choir sings \u201cLeonardo\u2026 come fly! Leonardo\u2026\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The lights go out as ICARINA leaps.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The choir sings \u201c\u2026 Dream!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Obviously inspired by the song of the same name. This one needs a lot of work for… whatever it is… but I like the Renaissance and Leonardo and whatnot. Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine* The title of this play, … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[20,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2048","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-short-plays","category-theater-stuff"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9u111-x2","jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2048","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2048"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2048\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2055,"href":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2048\/revisions\/2055"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2048"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2048"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.jaredmcdaris.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2048"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}