Shoo-oo Shoo Once upon A Time

Shoo-oo Shoo Once upon A Time

A Four-Act Play
by Choi, In-hoon
Translated into English
by Ryu, Yung-kyun

Act One

Notes from the Playwright

1. The play is based on a legend handed down orallly among the people of North Pyongan Province in Korea.
2. The original legend concludes with the baby being strangled to death.
3. The symbolic structure of this legend is comparable to that of the life of Jesus Christ -- a short life during troublesome times, martyrdom, resurrection, and ascension.
Its theme can be compared to the Passover in the Book of Exodus of the Old Testament.
4. The Play can be read as a universal human tragedy without any religious connotations -- a depressing story about people who are incapable of carving out their own future against the will of fate.
5. As suggested in the stage directions, the actors'movements and speech patterns should be slower than normal.
Actors should speak very slowly, or stutter, to the extent of causing an almost unbearable frustration in the audience.
6. Characters should be acted as if they were puppets or as if they were only subsidiary to other theatrical elements or directorial means
7. In the concluding scene, characters on the ground should dance as if possessed by an unknown power.
This particular dance scene will seemingly be out of context in the light of the play's linear plot. But in fact it is very much part of the whole plot.

CHARACTERS

WIFE
HUSBAND
VILLAGE WOMAN
OLD WOMAN
VILLAGE MAN 1
VILLAGE MAN 2
SOLDIER 1
SOLDIER 2
SOLDIER 3

ACT ONE

A hut, It snows. Evening. A dimly lit oil lamp. No funiture. Wife is seen at center stage. She is engaged in needlework. She is in her last month of pregnancy. She is no more than fifteen years old. She picks up her needlework and measures it with her eyes. she is sitting on a square patch of wooden floor. There is nothing but an old lamp and a small fire pot. Holding her needlework at eye level, she sits absent-mindedly for a while. She looks down at her belly and gently strokes it.
A sound.
She strains her ears to listen.
The wind.
Listens again.
The wind.
Goes back to her needlwork.
She turns up the wick if the oil lamp with the tip of her needle.
An owl hoots.
Listens again.
She idly fiddles with a soup bowl she is warming on the fire pot.
She picks up tongs and lightly presses ashes around the bowl.
Continues to sew.
A sound.
She listens.
The wind.
Listens again.
The wind.
She gets up and walks out of the room.(Steps down the floor to the yard.)
She stops where the brushwood gate should be.
She looks out into the darkness.
Snow falls on her head.
The wind.
The owl hoots.
A pause.
Slowly she returns to her room.
She turns around as if she had heard something.
A pause.
She turns back to enter the room.
She turns up the wick with her needle tip.
She picks up her needlework and continues working.
Every now and then, she stops sewing,
strokes her belly,
and smiles.
The wind.
The owl hoots.
She lifts up her head and listens.
A sound.
She gets up.
Husband enters.
He carries two sacks of grain on his A-frame.
He takes his A-frame off his shoulder
and sets it up on the edge of the floor.
Wife helps him take off his A-frame.
Wife dusts snow off his shoulder.
Husband shakes snow off his shoes.
Wife dusts snow off her husband's pants.
All these movements should be executed in a very slow and mechanical manner. The actors make one movement at a time, as if they had just remembered to move at that particular moment.
All the characters speak much more slowly than normal. They speak sporadically, as if they had just thought of saying those particular words. Husband stutters badly.
Their conversation makes us almost impatient. It's difficult to wait for the next words to come. The intervals between one character's lines and another's are unnecessarily long. It could be just an ordinary conversation between a husband and a wife, but their words are spoken with tremendous difficulty.

 
WIFE    : The road must have been very slippery. 
HUSBAND : N-n-not b-b-bad.
WIFE    : Thank Heavens! (She touches the sacks.)
HUSBAND : I b--b-begged him to--- (He puts the sacks down on 
          the floor.)
WIFE    : (Opens the sacks.) Millet and beans!
HUSBAND : Y-yes.
WIFE    : Come right in.  You had only a spoonful this morning. You must be 
          starving! (Tries to move the sacks.)
HUSBAND : N-n-n-n-n-n-n-o!  L-l-l-l-leave it!
          (Wife moves the sacks.)       
HUSBAND : (Roughly.) I s-s-s-s-s-s-s-said, l-l-l-l-l-leave it. D-d-d-don't 
          l-l-lift h-h-he-he-he-he-he-heavy th-th-th-th-th-th-th-th-things! 
          (He takes the sacks from his wife and puts them down where she 
          wants them.)  T--t-there!  (The two face each other)
WIFE    : Love, sit down here and warm yourself a little  bit. (She moves 
          the fire pot towards him. She sets the soup bowl straght on the 
          fire.)
HUSBAND : I am OK.
WIFE    : (Setting dinner on a small table.) Come on, sit  over here.
HUSBAND : N-N-No! Y-you s-s-sit there.
WIFE    : Love, I've been sitting by it all this time...... 
HUSBAND : (Angrily.) S-s-s-s-s-s-sit t-t-t-there!
          (Wife helplessly sits by the fire pot and pulls the table 
          towards her)
WIFE    : You must be hungry .........
HUSBAND : (Husband opens one of the sacks and scoops up a bowl of millet 
          from it)
WIFE    : Love?
HUSBAND : (Husband ties up the sack to close it.)
WIFE    : What are you doing?
          (Husband gets up with the bowl in his hands.)
WIFE    : (Getting up.) What .........?
HUSBAND : J-j-just s-s-sit th-th-there! I'll c-c-c-c-cook th-th-this for 
          you. Or else y-y-you w-w-w-w-would h-h-have d-d-d-d-delivered our 
          b-b-b-b-baby wi-wi-wi-wi-with-wi-without h-h-having h-h-h-had any        
   
          d-d-d-decent m-m-m-m-m-meal all wi-wi-wi-winter.
WIFE    : Are you out of your mind?  How could I .........?  The millet is 
          for seed, not for food.
HUSBAND : It will be all right. It's all the s-same. N-n-n-n-next fall, 
          we'll h-h-have to g-give the l-l-l-landowner m-m-most of 
          wha-wha-whatever we ha-ha-ha-harvest anyway.
WIFE    : No, give it to me.
HUSBAND : I s-s-s-s-said it's all right.
WIFE    : No, it's not. I wouldn't dare to eat the millet for seed......  
          even though, if I did, I would give birth to a king!
HUSBAND : Ge-ge-get o-o-out of my w-w-w-way!
WIFE    : No!
HUSBAND : (They struggle over the bowl.  Wife manages to  take it from her  
          husband.  But she accidentally drops it on the floor.)
WIFE    : Oh, my goodness!  What's the mater with me!  Oh, my!  (She crawls 
          on her knees to pick up the grain.) Well, you must be hungry. 
          (Pointing to the fire pot.) Darling, the stew is going to burn.  
          Come on! Help yourself  (She picks up the soup bowl and sets it 
          on the table.  She covers live coals in the fire pot with ashes.  
          Husband gets up and picks up scatterd grain from the floor.     
          Wife joins him and pours grain into the sack.  She pushes Husband 
          near the fire pot.)
WIFE    : There!
        (Husband sits down at the table across from Wife and makes signs 
        with his eyes that she should eat also.)
HUSBAND : G-g-g-g-r-r-r-reens!  Y-y-y-you've h-h-had n-n-n-n-n-nothing 
          b-b-b-b-b-b-b-but g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-greens all winter.  
          L-l-look here, love!
WIFE    : No, you mustn't. (She blocks him against the sacks.)
        (Husband helplessly spoons up the soup. Both eat.)
WIFE    : (Stroking the sacks.) So, it came out well.
HUSBAND : .........
WIFE    : Love, is anything the matter?
HUSBAND : N-n-n-no,no.  N-n-nothing.
WIFE    : Nothing? Well, something must have happened.
HUSBAND : I s-s-s-said n-n-nothing, d-d-didn't I?
WIFE    : Heavens! Sould you be worrying me about nothing?
HUSBAND : .........
WIFE    : ......... 
HUSBAND : W-w-w-well, I h-h-h-heard that a g-g-gang of b-b-b-b-b-b-bandits 
          c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-came d-d-d-down to the v-v-v-village on 
          th-th-the ah-ah-oth-oth-oth-other s-s-s-s-s-s-side of the 
          p-p-p-p-p-p-p-pass.
WIFE    : Bandits?
HUSBAND : P-p-p-people t-t-t-told me that the-the-they-they s-s-s-s-s-s-set 
          f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-fire to the d-d-d-d-district of-of-office 
          b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-building and ro-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro-robbed the 
          g-g-g-g-g-g-government g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-granary.
WIFE    : Good heavens!
HUSBAND : There was a n-n-n-n-notice p-p-p-p-posted.  It s-s-s-s-s-s-says 
          th-th-th-th-th-the-the b-b-b-b-b-band-d-d-dits might appear any  
          p-p-p-place any t-t-t-time.  S-s-s-s-o if anybody f-f-f- 
          f-f-f-f-f-f-f-finds e-e-even a s-s-s-suspicious sh-sh-sha-shadow, 
          it s-s-s-s-s-says h-h-he-he m-m-m-m-m-m-m-must re-re-re-p-p-port 
          it immediately.
WIFE    : It happens every year.  It's nothing unusual.
HUSBAND : And o-o-o-one of the b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-bandits was arrested and 
          b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-beheaded.  I s-s-s-s-s-saw hi-hi-his h-h-h-head 
          h-h-h-hung h-h-h-hi-hi-high on a p-p-p-pole in f-f-f-front of the 
          d-d-d-d-district o-o-o-of-of-of-fice.
WIFE    : Tsk, tsk! Either starved to death or chopped up!
HUSBAND : H-h-h-h-h-h-h-he-he-he m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-meant to s-s-survive the 
          h-h-h-h-h-h-h-hunger b-b-b-b-by g-g-g-go-go-go-going against the 
          g-g-g-government. B-b-b-ut it's n-n-n-n-n-n-not wor-wor-wor-worth 
          t-t-t-t-t-trying if h-h-h-h-h-h-he e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-ends 
          u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-up d-d-d-d-d-d-de-de-de-de-dead l-l-l-l-l-like 
          that.
WIFE    : Well, that's true.
HUSBAND : B-by the way, d-d-d-do you know who it is?
WIFE    : .........?
HUSBAND : Y-y-you have any idea who that b-b-b-beheaded b-b-bandit was?
WIFE    : .........?
HUSBAND : W-w-we-we-well, d-d-d-d-d-do you?
WIFE    : How should I know?
HUSBAND : I could n-n-never have imagined this! D-d-d-do y-y-you remember 
          tha-tha-tha-tha-that s-s-s-s-salt p-p-p-peddler who was h-h-here
          l-last s-s-summer d-d-driving a s-s-scraggy l-l-little donkey?
WIFE    : Yes?
HUSBAND : It's h-h-h-h-h-him.
WIFE    : What?
HUSBAND : W-w-w-ell, I am s-s-s-sure I was n-n-n-not m-m-m-m-m-mistaken.
WIFE    : Well, what do you know! That consumptive? It could't be possible.
HUSBAND : W-w-w-well, s-s-s-strange th-thi-things d-d-do happen.  That's 
          all I can s-s-s-say.
WIFE    : Of all things! He was sitting on the edge of our floor, panting 
          so hard.  I almost thought he was going to die any minute.
HUSBAND : W-w-w-w-well, y-y-y-y-you're t-t-t-t-t-telling m-m-m-m-me!
WIFE    : And he set fire to the government building!
        (A sound outside.  The two hold their breath.  It sounds like snow 
        falling from tree branches.)
HUSBAND : ( In a low voice.) It's n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-nothing, is it?
        (Wife listens.  Wife goes to the door and tries to look out.  
        Husband holds her back.)
WIFE    : I guess there's nobody out there.
HUSBAND : Uh huh.
WIFE    : (Digging up the fire in the pot.) We don't have anything a thief 
          might be interested in......(As her eyes fall on the sacks, she 
          suddenly becomes silent.)
HUSBAND : (Quickly, as if he were talking to somebody outside.) 
          Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-yes,tha-tha-tha-that's r-r-r-right.  Th-th-th-the 
          ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-honorable b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-bandits 
          d-d-d-d-d-d-d-do the-the-the-their b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-business in 
          p-p-p-p-p-p-p-places m-m-m-m-m-m-m-more d-d-d-de-de-de-de-decent 
          th-th-th-tha-tha-tha-than ours.  Y-y-y-y-y-y-you c-c-c-can't 
          ar-ar-ar-ar-ar-argue wi-wi-w-w-w-wi-wi-with th-tha-th-tha-that!
WIFE    : Abolutely! Come to think of it, it's nice at a time like this 
          that we don't have anything to worry about.
HUSBAND : Y-y-y-you b-b-b-bet it is.

A pause.
It's still snowing outside.
The two sit still for a while.
Finally, they relax to make themselves comfortable.
A wolf howls.
They listen to it.

WIFE    : This might be the last snow.
HUSBAND : We've had plenty of snow this winter.  I wish we would have 
          p-p-p-plenty to h-h-h-h-harvest in the f-f-f-fa-fa-fa-f-f-fall.
WIFE    : Heaven help us.
HUSBAND : We'll s-s-s-soon h-h-have another m-m-mouth to f-feed, you know.
WIFE    : It won't eat much for the first couple of years.
HUSBAND : You know wha-wha-what they say:  "In a b-b-b-bad ha-ha-harvest 
          a-a-adults d-d-d-die of s-s-s-starvation; chi-chi-chi-children 
          d-d-d-d-d-di-di-die of overeating."
WIFE    : What would there be to eat?  That must happen only in a rich 
          village. (Stroking her belly.)  My poor baby! It's such a pity 
          that it must live in this hungry world from the moment it's born.
HUSBAND : Ha-ha-has our l-l-life e-e-e-e-ever b-b-b-been any b-b-b-better 
          tha-tha-tha-than thi-thi-thi-this?  If one is a chi-chi-ch-child 
          of a g-g-g-g-g-grub who m-m-m-m-makes h-h-his l-l-l-living 
          f-f-from the s-s-s-s-soil, he is a g-g-g-grub, to-to-too.  
          Tha-tha-that's th-th-the wa-wa-wa-way of H-h-h-heaven.
WIFE    : Love! I wish it would stay the way it is now.
HUSBAND : .........?
WIFE    : I wish I wouldn't have the baby.
HUSBAND : ......?
WIFE    : Then the baby wouldn't have to suffer in this world ...... and 
          you ...... you wanted to feed me with seed millet......         
          How could I ever afford such a luxury?
HUSBAND : Have you e-e-e-e-ever he-he-he-he-heard of a wo-wo-wo-wo-woman 
          wh-wh-wh-who d-d-d-didn't have to de-de-de-deliver the           
          b-b-b-b-b-baby sh-sh-she c-c-c-c-conceived?
WIFE    : Well, but ......
HUSBAND : You know Acron Valley?
WIFE    : Yes.
HUSBAND : When I f-f-f-f-finish s-s-sowing this spring, I guess I can clear 
          a little patch there. 
WIFE    : Clear?
HUSBAND : Yes.
WIFE    : How could you clear that kind of land?
HUSBAND : I looked around there last summer. It will be hard, but with a 
          li-li-little m-m-more e-e-e-e-e-e-effort ......
WIFE    : It's a slope, and what is worse it's full of pebbles and rocks.
HUSBAND : That's wh-wh-wh-why it's s-s-s-s-still available.
WIFE    : That's true.
HUSBAND : If I g-g-g-g-grow p-p-p-p-potatoes there, it would be a help.
WIFE    : Well, I doubt it, there wouldn't be much left for us. 
HUSBAND : We'll have s-s-s-some left if not much. Even after we p-p-p-p-pay 
          the la-la-la-la-landowner for the land.
WIFE    : Well, I'll help you after I have the baby.
HUSBAND : N-n-next s-spring,then, I h-h-hope we can g-g-grow s-s-something 
          m-m-more p-p-p-profitable.
WIFE    : Well, if you don't have a bad harvest like the one we had two 
          years ago.
HUSBAND : Well, I...... I......
WIFE    : ......?......
HUSBAND : I wo-wo-wo-wo-worry about s-s-s-s-s-something wo-wo-wo-wo-worse 
          than tha-tha-tha-that. 
WIFE    : Worse?
HUSBAND : D-d-d-d-didn't I t-t-tell you about those b-b-b-b-b-bandits 
          s-s-s-s-s-s-s-swarming all over?
WIFE    : In our house, what would they want to take away?
HUSBAND : N-n-n-n-no, n-n-no.  I didn't m-m-m-mean that.
WIFE    : ......?
HUSBAND : Th-th-th-those b-b-b-b-bandits are n-n-n-not wha-wha-wha-what 
          we-we-we-we-we're af-af-af-afraid of, you know.
          (Wife nods her head.)
HUSBAND : F-f-f-following a b-b-bad harvest, the b-b-bandits s-s-swarm 
          around.  And if the n-n-number of the b-b-bandits i-i-increases 
          l-l-like that, the d-d-district g-g-g-g-government s-s-s-starts 
          its m-m-m-m-mopping-up op-op-op-op-op-operation, and ......
WIFE    : Love! (She holds her husband's arms.)
HUSBAND : And for the op-op-operation, m-m-m-more people will be recruited 
          as s-s-so-soldiers.  Eventually, I'll be recruited as one of 
          them too.
WIFE    : They already have so many soldiers.
HUSBAND : Th-they s-s-seem to be m-m-many o-only to us.  They are 
          ah-ah-outnumbered by the increasing s-s-swarms of b-b-bandits.  
          It was s-s-soldiers s-sent from the Ca-ca-capital who p-p-p-p-put 
          a f-f-final s-s-stop to the riot t-two years ago.
WIFE    : Heaven help us!
HUSBAND : ......
WIFE    : So, what's the rumor these days?
HUSBAND : About those b-b-b-b-b-b-b-bandits?
WIFE    : Yes.
HUSBAND : P-p-people s-s-say that they were run out of the di-di-district.
WIFE    : Are you sure?
HUSBAND : So I heard.
WIFE    : Well, I hope that's really true.  I hope there will be no bad 
          harvest and no bandits after our baby is born.
HUSBAND : All the s-same.  If we don't have a b-bad harvest, we won't have 
          b-b-b-bandits.
WIFE    : That's true.
HUSBAND : Then ...... (stroking his wife's belly) our baby will be 
ha-ha-happy, and  we'll also have an ea-ea-easy li-li-life.
WIFE    : Darling (stroking the sacks), I know he will be happy.
HUSBAND : H-h-how do you know?
WIFE    : I'm sure about it.  Look here! (Stroking the sacks) The landlord 
          let us borrow his seed again this year.
HUSBAND : Well, that's t-t-true.  Mr.Ki-ki-kim from over the p-p-pass went 
          h-h-home e-e-empty-h-h-handed.
WIFE    : See?  What did I tell you?  It's all because of our baby's luck.
          (Stroking the sacks.) Look!  His luck brought us this much.  What  
          do you say to this? 
HUSBAND : Y-ye-yes, p-p-plenty.  (He moves the sacks to no purpose and 
          presses them down several times.)
WIFE    : Moreover ...... (She listens.)
        (Husband listens as his wife does.)
WIFE    : The snow is really coming down.
HUSBAND : (Nods assent.)  
WIFE    : (Hangs on to Husband's arm.)  
HUSBAND : (Strokes Wife's belly.)  
WIFE    : (Smiles.)

Wife strokes the sacks as if she were fondling her baby and presses them down several times. Husband stands by her as if he wants to lend her a hand.

HUSBAND : I-i-f it is a b-b-boy ......
WIFE    : He'll help his daddy ......
HUSBAND : O-o-out in the f-f-field!
WIFE    : If it is a girl ......
HUSBAND : Sh-sh-sh-she'll h-h-help her m-m-m-mommy at h-h-home.
WIFE    : Love!
HUSBAND : Huh?
WIFE    : What if I go out and work in the field, too?
HUSBAND : W-w-w-w-w-well, you can ...... (Pause) ...... You can t-take her 
          out with you.
WIFE    : That's true.
HUSBAND : S-s-s-sure you can!
WIFE    : I'll lay her down in a cool and shady place.
HUSBAND : Yes.
WIFE    : She'll watch squirrels running around and listen to birds 
          singing.
HUSBAND : We can b-b-b-bathe her in the s-s-s-stream.
WIFE    : When a cloud floats away up in the sky, she will smile at that 
          and we'll smile too.
HUSBAND : O-o-only if we have a g-g-g-g-g-good h-h-ha-harvest ......
WIFE    : Only if we don't have those bandits swarming all over ......
HUSBAND : It's a-a-all the s-s-s-same, I t-t-told you.
WIFE    : Oh, yes, that's right.
HUSBAND : ......
        (The two laugh together.)
HUSBAND : L-l-lov-lo-love, l-l-l-l-let's go to b-b-b-b-bed.  
          It's g-g-getting l-l-late.
WIFE    : Oh, my, that's true. 
HUSBAND : ......
        (The two smile at each other.  Wife blows the lamp out.  
         A wolf howls froms a distance.)

- The End of Act One -

ACT TWO

Spring. The same setting as in Act One. A baby is heard crying. wife enters from the kitchen, goes into room, and comes out holding the baby in her arms.

WIFE : Well, well. Yes, my baby, yes. You are crying because you are

hungry. Here, here. (She gives her breast to the baby. The

baby keeps crying.) You aren't getting any milk! Good grief! My breasts must have run dry. No wonder you aren't getting any milk. What can I do? Your mommy doesn't have enough to eat, you know. (She gets up and tries to calm him down.)

My baby, my good baby!

Grow strong with no milk!

My baby, fussy baby!

Come on, stop fussing!

Or, you'll become a bandit.

A bad harvest year.

Once a bandit in this world,

ther's no chance for you.

You end up with the headsman.

Your head on a pole.

��Mommy! Ouch! Mommy! It hurts!��

Crows peck, magpies peck.

It's such a scary story.

Bitter is your lot!

It cannot be your story.

It's just a story.

Somebody else's story.

It's not your story.

Once a bandit in this world,

Ther's no chance for you.

You end up with the headsman.

Your head on a pole.

(She takes the baby into the room and lays him down and comes out again. Village Woman enters.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : How's the baby?

WIFE : Hello, how are you?

VILLAGE WOMAN : Is he sleeping?

WIFE : Yes, he just fell asleep.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Well, is the baby getting any milk?

WIFE : ... Not very much...

VILLAGE WOMAN : Tsk, tsk. You have to eat well. This spring, even a

healthy person like me is hungry all the time. I bet you fancy

all kinds of delicacies. Here, take this.

WIFE : Good gracious! What is it?

VILLAGE WOMAN : Nothing fancy. It's just acorn jelly.

WIFE : You have so many children to feed...

VILLAGE WOMAN : Well, I have nine little gobblers who keep gobbling all day

long. The more they eat, the more they want. It's all the same whether they have a little bit more or less. You are the one who really needs this. So I thought I would bring you some.

WIFE : Such precious food at a time like this!

VILLAGE WOMAN : Who would have taken care of me like that but you.

Remember last summer when I was sick with typhoid fever? Who would have looked after me like that but you? I am grateful. I will never forget it.

WIFE : That's nothing.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Here, try this. I brought some soy sauce, too. (She puts

down a clay jar in front of Wife.)

WIFE : How could I...

VILLAGE WOMAN : Come on! Get a bowl.

(Wife enters the kitchen and brings out two bowls and two spoons.)

WIFE : There! (She ladles some acorn jelly out of the jar and serves it

to Wife in a blowl.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : You should have some, too.

WIFE : (Waving her hands,) No, no, I am not here for that. Come on!

Help yourself

(Wife hesitantly tries a spoonful.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : How do you like it?

WIFE : It's sweet like honey.

VILLAGE WOMAN : (With a proud look.) See? I can make acorn jelly, all

right. (Watching wife eating.) Good grief! You have a swollen

face. What would your mother say if she saw you like this. Her

heart would break. (Wipes tears with her skirt.)

(Choked with sobs, Wife puts down her spoon.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : Oops! This big mouth of mine. (Hitting her own mouth.) No

wonder my husband always bitches about it! He once told me that if I had kept my mouth and belly (pointing to her belly) shut, fortune would have opened its door to him. Well, speaking of my belly, who is the fellow who makes it open, huh?

WIFE : (Laughs.) So, you have many children. But when they grow up,

they will earn their own living.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Earn their own living? You've got to be joking. What are

they going to do? To make a living, you've got to have a piece of land to dig in. By the way, have you heard the rumor?

WIFE : Yes.

VILLAGE WOMAN : What a strange thing it is! Well, what could be normal in

this upside down world? Hve you ever heard a winged horse neigh?

WIFE : (Shakes her head.)...

VILLAGE WOMAN : I haven't heard anything like that, either. But you know

Soedol's mother, who lives over the pass? She said she heard it

twice.

WIFE : Really?

VILLAGE WOMAN : Yes.

WIFE : How does it neigh?

VILLAGE WOMAN : How should I know? I was going to find out about it myself

last night but my husband, that maniac, didn't leave me in peace. All day long I crawl all over the field hoeing. I come home dead tired. At night, it is my husban's turn to hoe. He pounces on me, crawls and hoes all over me. After that I sleep like a dead log. I wouldn't even hear thunder. Besides, you are not like what you used to be when you become an old hag like me. Well, so much for that. Anyway, when a winged horse appears, they say it means a superbaby has been born somewhere in the area.

WIFE : A superbaby?

VILLAGE WOMAN : (Nodding.) So they say.

WIFE : A superbaby! I wonder what he looks like.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Well, my deceased grandmother - God bless her! - she once

told me that he has scales all over his body and has wings under his armpits.

WIFE : Thank Heavens! Then my baby is not him!

VILLAGE WOMAN : Of course not, and she also told me that the superbaby can

walk the moment he is born.

WIFE : My baby cannot even turn himself over yet. So I guess he is not

the one, is he?

VILLAGE WOMAN : Of course not. Supposing that a superbaby were born in our

village, he would be killed instantly: his parents would also be killed. And the whole village would be completely ruined in no time.

WIFE : Why the village?

VILLAGE WOMAN : I heard there was once a superbaby born in a village. The

government announced that it was because the village had bad soil. So they burnt down the entire willage with the people still in it.

WIFE : Alas! What shall I do if......? My baby...... My innocent

baby......(Looks toward the room.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : There are three villages around the mountain where the

winged horse has been reported. So the superbaby must have been born in one of them... not necessarily in our village.

WIFE : I hope so. Heaven help us.

VILLAGE WOMAN : The district office has sent soldiers out to search every

house for the superbaby. Soldiers were ordered to examine every child born within the last ten years, not to mention newly born babies. And if they find anything unusual in any of those children, they will keep the child in custody.

WIFE : My goodness!

VILLAGE WOMAN : In every house, parents are sacred if their children show

even a slightest sign of physical strength. Well, you know what it does to my gobblers? They turned themselves into goblins. They eat all right, but they won't even empty their own chamber pots.

WIFE : Oh dear!

VILLAGE WOMAN : All of our kids will be spoiled. If things go on like

this, pretty soon they will all be good for nothing, more like

corpses than superbabies or anything like that.

WIFE : Not only newborn babies but older ones, too?

VILLAGE WOMAN : Well, nobody knows how old the winged horse is. So how

should we know how old the superbaby is? Nobody has seen him yet. That's why the district office keeps an eye on anybody not yet married.

WIFE : (Somewhat relieved.) Well, I thought...

VILLAGE WOMAN : Well, I'd better be going. Before I go, can I look at your

cute little doll? Wait, I'll go myself and peep in. (She cautiously opens the door. Leaning on her stomach across the thresold, she looks in to see the baby. Getting up.) This little fella has such a bright shiny face. He could well be a brave general in the future.

WIFE : (Pleased.) Thank you.

(Husband enters in hurry.)

HUSBAND : Lo... love! Lo... Lo... love!

VILLAGE WOMAN : What's all that panting and puffing about?

HUSBAND : Well, s-s-soldiers! Soldiers! I saw them searching through

Acorn Valley and up all over the mountain.

WILLAGE WOMAN : Soliders?

HUSBAND : They are going to capture the winged horse.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Do they think it's in our village?

HUSBAND : It's the magistrate who ordered it. They start with our village.

The soldiers will be combing through every village. The search

will start here in our village. The search will start here in our village. The Soldiers will be going through every village as if hunting lice.

VILLAGE WOMAN : A winged horse, a superbaby, whichever it is, I hope it

won't be found in our village.

HUSBAND : The soldiers are excited about the whole thing. They wre wild,

ferocious, and bloodthirsty. Seems to me they will come up with something anyway, whether it's the winged horse or not.

WILLAGE WOMAN : Well, you are talking about a winged horse. It won't be

that easy.

WIFE : Look, you are soaked in sweat!

HUSBAND : I went deep into Acorn Valley myself with the soldiers.

WIFE : Why you?

HUSBAND : Well, they will be searching all over the mountain probably for

several days. They were carrying several days's food with them. I was plowing in the field. And they got me to carry their food. I wasn't released from them until they went far beyond Acorn Valley. I was a lucky one, though.

VILLAGE WOMAN : As if they would be struck to death by lightning if they

carry their own food! If they hadn't met you on their way, would they have thrown it all away? Those damn soldiers!

HUSBAND : Why! They already had somebody carring their stuff when I met

them.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Well, naturally. And we haven't even finished sowing yet.

Such a busy time! The winged horse wouldn't neigh for nothing! Who was the poor man carrying their stuff anyway?

HUSBAND : Well, huh...... It was...... your husband.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Good Heavens! He works near the crossroad. That's how

they got him. Well, that poor fellow! After all that plowing

and hoeing last night!

HUSBAND : He works at night, too?

(Wife turns around embarrassed.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : No, no. I did't mean it. Nothing. Damn it! This loud

mouth of mine! (She hits her mouth.) I didn't mean he worked out in the field last night. This big muzzle of mine! (She hits her mouth again. Somebody is heard singing offstage.)

My baby, my good baby!

Grow strong with no milk!

My baby, fussy baby!

Come on, stop fussing!

Or, you'll become a bandit.

A bad harvest year.

Once a bandit in this world,

there's no chance for you.

You end up with the headsman.

Your head on a pole.

(The singing is getting closer. It's a hoarse voice singing. The three on stage listen to that singing voice. Husband moves a couple of steps towards where the voice is coming from. An old woman enters. Her hair is snow-white, her back is crooked. She leans her body the small of her back the way Korean travellers did in the old days. Her knapsack is almost flat as if it has nothing in it.)

HUSBAND : Where are you...?

OLD WOMAN : (Stares everyone in the face.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : I've never seen her around here

OLD WOMAN : Water! Give me some Water!

(Wife enters the kitchen. Old Woman squats down on the gound.

Wife enters with a bowl of water.)

WIFE : Here you are

(Old Woman drinks water)

VILLAGE WOMAN : Where are you coming from?

OLD WOMAN : From over there. (She lifts her finger and points at a spot in

the air.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : Over where? Over the pass?

OLD WOMAN : (Nods her head.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : Where are you going?

OLD WOMAN : (She looks blank.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : I asked where you are going.

OLD WOMAN : I am looking for my son.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Your son?

OLD WOMAN : Yes, my son

VILLAGE WOMAN : Where is he?

OLD WOMAN : In the district office.

VILLAGE WOMAN : In the district office?

OLD WOMAN : (Nods.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : What position is he in the office?

OLD WOMAN :In a very high place.

VILLAGE WOMAN : (A little bit aghast.) If he is in such a high position,

why does he leave his mother out on the orad like this? Well,

how high is he in that office anyway?

OLD WOMAN : High up there.

VILLAGE WOMAN : I bet he can't be higher than the magistrate.

OLD WOMAN : Much higher.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Well,well! What kind of position does he hold?

OLD WOMAN : Up on the pole.

(The three look at one another.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : Well then, is your son by any chance that bandit who....?

OLD WOMAN : (Nods again.)

(They all hold back their astonishment.)

OLD WOMAN : I thought I'd better recover his head and bury it if I can't

find the whole body. I appreciate your bowl of water. Thank you.

(Old Woman rises supporting herself on her stick. She walks with

rickery steps toward the direction opposite from where she entered.

She starts singing as she exits.)

My baby, my good baby!

Grow strong with no milk!

My baby, fussy baby!

Come on, stop fussing!

Or, you'll become a bandit.

A bad harvest year.

Once a bandit in this world,

ther's no chance for you.

You end up with the headsman.

Your head on a pole.

��Mommy! Ouch! Mommy! It hurts!��

Crows peck, magpies peck.

It's such a scary story.

Bitter is your lot!

It cannot be your story.

It's just a story.

Somebody else's story.

It's not your story.

Once a bandit in this world,

Ther's no chance for you.

You end up with the headsman.

Your head on a pole.

(The three people on stage listen to the song. They don't move

till the Old Woman's song fades out offstage.)

VILLAGE WOMAN: Well, where is he now -- my husband?

HUSBAND : He is probably still up on the mountain.

VILLAGE WOMAN: With those soldiers?

HUSBAND : Yes.

VILLAGE WOMAN : How come you came home like this and he is still up there

like that?

HUSBAND : He volunteered to stay there.

VILLAGE WOMAN: What do you mean he volunteered? What for?

HUSBAND : Well, you see it's like this. Those soldiers stopped by several

houses on their way and picked up dozens of chickens. And your brood hen was among those chickens.

VILLAGE WOMAN: Oh, my!

HUSBAND : So, he's going to wait for a chance to see if he can steal it

back.

VILLAGE WOMAN: Heavens! My brood hen! Why on earth did they have to take

my precious brood hen instead of one of the others. They could have picked that good-for-nothing rooster. What am I going to do? Good Gracious! What am I going to do?

HUSBAND : (To Wife.) Sweetheart, they didn't come to our house, did they?

WIFE : No, they didn't.

HUSBAND : I was worried like hell. Is he sleeping?

WIFE : Yes.

VILLAGE WOMAN : I am going home. My goblins must have made quite a mess by

now. Woe is me! A superbaby, a winged horse, or whatever! They are my enemies! Damn them! Damn this miserable world! (She runs out in a fluster.)

The same day. It's dark outside. Husband and Wife are seen sitting face to face. Their baby is sleeping beside them. The two sacks of seed grain are in the upper corner. They listen to the sounds coming from outside.

The wind.

WIFE : Do you think it's going be captured?

HUSBAND : Well... Who knows?

(A wolf howls.)

End of Act Two

ACT THREE

The same setting. Wife and Village Woman enter. Both of them have picks in their hands.

WIFE : I hope he isn't awake yet. (To Village Woman) I've just come home

myself. (She goes into the room. Brings out her baby. She sits out in the yard and gives him her breast.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : (Looking into the baby's face.) Such a gentle baby!

(Sits down plump on the ground.) Whew! Year in, year out, none of these years have been without a disaster. We had plenty of snow last winter. So I expected a good harvest the next fall. But all of sudden, what's this all about? Out of the blue, this winged horse or something appeared. And because of this creature, what are they doing? All our husbands are up there in the mounntain looking for the creature. When are they ever going to manage all that work -- plowing, sowing, and all the other things they have to do. I doubt whether we can ever make it before the season's over. What is worse is that for the last ten days those soliders have been plundering our food -- grain, chickens, acorns, or whatever we have. Far from capturing a horse or anything, they are going to starve us to death.

WIFE : What about your chicken?

VILLAGE WOMAN : Which one?

WIFE : I mean your rooster.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Well, I said, which one, didn't I?

WIFE : Do you have more than one?

VILLAGE WOMAN : Which one do you mean? I have two. One is a chicken and

the other is my worse half.

WIFE : Come on! Stop it!

VILLAGE WOMAN : The chicken rooster was taken three days ago. I'm sure

he is sitting in peace inside those soldiers' fat bellies by now. And the human rooster is still up on the mountain, if that's what you mean.

WIFE : My husband dropped by briefly yesterday.

VILLAGE WOMAN : What did he say? Did he say that they are going to live up

there until summer? Or are they going to foal a winged horse?

WIFE : He said they might come down sometime today.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Really? You mean they are going to give up at last after

all that fuss they've been making?

WIFE : Well, you must have heard about it. They were unable to capture

the winged horse.

VILLAGE WOMAN : That's what I heard. I heard that they didn't even have

a glimpse of it. They hear the horse in one valley. So they run down over there. But by the time they get there, it's already gone to another valley. Pretty soon, they hear the horse in the next valley. It's been like that for all those days they've been out there. It's as if they were possessed by a demon. The soldiers are taking their anger out on us poor people as if it were our fault. For the last couple of days, they've been doing nothing but drinking wine and eating chickens and cakes day and night. Whenever they hear a horse, they send our men out instead.

WIFE : Heavens help us!

VILLAGE WOMAN : Anyway, what are we going to do with our farming? It's

a big problem. When are we ever going to manage the sowing?

WIFE : They might be back today.

VILLAGE WOMAN : That's right. You told me so.

WIFE : I hope so.

VILLAGE WOMAN : They gave us all that trouble for nothing. This creature

is said to have divine powers. How could it be captured by men -- not to mention by those bums?

WIFE : Well, I guess not.

VILLAGE WOMAN : Of course not. This horse is meant for the superbaby to

ride. It is not meant to be captured by a bum like my husband. There is no horse in the whole world which could be meant for him. Well, except a certain crazy wench.

(Pretending she hasn't heard her, Wife gets up and puts the baby

to bed.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : What a gentle baby he is! Well, let's go and plow a bit

more before the sunset. I want to be back home early today. I've got a hunch that he's going to molest me again tonight. But what can you do about it? If they think someone is a superman just because he can carry an A-frame full of firewood or because he can swing a pick, everybody in the village would be a superman. But my goblins still wouldn't listen to me no matter what I say. So I end up plowing, cooking, and gathering firewood all by myself. What am I, a work horse?

(The two woman pick up their tools to go to work in the field.)

WIFE : Look! (Points at a distant place.)

VILLAGE WOMAN : What ... ? They are coming down!

WIFE : Yes, they are over there near the stream! I see soldiers ......

VILLAGE WOMAN : Why are they coming around our village? They should be

going to the town.

WIFE : Really!

VILLAGE WOMAN : Look at that!

WIFE : Yes?

VILLAGE WOMAN : Looks like they are going to take a break over there.

WIFE : I think so.

VILLAGE WOMAN : I must go and see. (She exist in a hurry)

(Some sound is heard from the room.)

WIFE : Is he up already? (She goes back and opens the door.) Oh,No!

She falls down backward and rolls down to the yard.

She barely manages to gather herself up to look into the room.

She is shaking all over.

Through the open door, the baby [a puppet] is seen walking around the room. He is plodding on with steady steps.

With his arms stretched out, he moves them up and down as he walks along.

WIFE : Oh, no! What shall I do? Oh my! What can I do? (She

crawls up to the threshold. Clutching the threshold with both

hands.)

WIFE : My baby! My dear baby! Oh my goodness!

BABY : (With an amplified voice like an echo.) No more!

WIFE : Oh, no!

BABY : (Like an echo.) I can't stand it no more!

WIFE : No, my baby! No!

Lights. A blood-red flush of lights comes slowly up on stage. Gradually it fades out. Wife is dumbfounded. She is seen making frantic gestures. She is unable to straighten her body to get up.

In the room the baby is plodding around.

Wife manages to latch the door.

Wife is waiting for her husband. Wife strains her ears to the outside. The scene is almost identical with the opening scene of the play -- Wife waiting for Husband. This time, however, she is in a different state of mind.

Whenever there is any slight sound outside, she listens intently to it for a while and then glances at the door of the room.

She repeats this gesture.

A sound.

Wife goes out, stands where the brushwood gate should be, and makes a gesture to look far out.

Husband enters.

He walks with shaky steps. He looks tired. He drags himself along and barely manages to get to the front yard of his house.

He puts down the net bag from his shoulder and flops down on the ground.

HUSBAND : Poor me!

WIFE : ......

HUSBAND : A-all th-that f-f-fuss ca-ca-came to n-nothing. We were only

b-b-beating the air.

WIFE : ......

HUSBAND : I heard the M-M-Magistrate is in a b-b-b-big b-b-b-b-b-blowup.

WIFE : ......

HUSBAND : Those no-no-no-noble s-s-s-soldiers are all in a t-t-t-terrible

t-t-t-temper.

WIFE : ......

HUSBAND : The M-M-Magistrate g-g-gave a s-s-s-strict o-order that they

sh-sh-shouldn't e-even think of co-co-co-coming b-b-back to the t-t-t-town without the h-ho-ho-horse in ca-ca-ca-captivity.

WIFE : ......

(Soliders are heard singing form a distance.)

HUSBAND : L-l-listen to that. The-the-they are g-g-going to ca-ca-ca-camp

across the river t-t-t-tonight. And t-t-t-t-tomorrow, they are g-g-g-going to s-s-sear-sear-search e-e-every v-v-village for the s-s-su-su-superbaby. Go-go-god d-d-d-damn it! This wretched l-l-life ...!?

WIFE : ......

(Husband stops talking, and for the first time, he looks straight into Wife's face.)

WIFE : ...... (She looks at her husband.)

HUSBAND : Wha-wha-what's the m-m-matter?

WIFE : ...... (She vacantly gazes at the net bag her husband has just

thrown down on the ground.)

HUSBAND : Huh?

WIFE : ...... (She looks at her husband again.)

HUSBAND : Wha-wha-what the he-he-he-hell is wro-wro-wrong with you?

Wha-wha-wha-wha-what is it?

WIFE : (Shakes her head.)

HUSBAND : (He grabs Wife's arm.) ......?

He compulsively turns to look around.

He finds nothing unusual other than his wife's strange behavior.

WIFE : (Turns toward the door. It's closed now.)

There is a sound from the room.

HUSBAND : (Looks toward the room) Wha-what, why?

He goes toward the room.

WIFE : (She holds him back by the arm.)

HUSBAND : (Makes a gesture of being frightened as if he had sensed

something.) Huh?

WIFE : (Lets his arm go.) Love!

HUSBAND : ......

WIFE : Something dreadful has just happened.

HUSBAND : Wha-what? Wha-what? (He moves several steps toward the room and

stops.) You m-m-m-mean you are re-re-really n-n-not jo-jo-joking.

WIFE : (Nods)

HUSBAND : (Stares in the direction of the room.)

A sound in the room.

Husband looks at wife.

WIFE : (Nods)

The baby shakes the latch from inside.

HUSBAND : Oh, Heavens! (Husband flops down on the ground.)

Wife squats down beside him.

They lookd at each other

and then turn to the room.

HUSBAND : Lo-lo-lo ..... lo-love! (He gets up, approches the room, turns

around, and looks at Wife.)

Wife gets up and walks up to Husband,

tries to unlock the latch in the door, stops on second thought, peeps into the room through a hole in the door.

Then she steps aside for Husband.

Husband looks into the room through the hole.

HUSBAND : Oh, good heavens!

Husband flops down again on the ground.

Crawls backward out to the center of the yard.

Wife stands still by the door.

HUSBAND : (In a suppressed voice.) H-h-h-h-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-honey!

Wha-wha-wha-wha-wha-what ......?

Wife doesn't move.

Husband motions Wife to come over to him.

Wife doesn't move.

Husband beckons again to Wife.

Wife steps down to the yard

and squats down by Husband as she did before.

HUSBAND : Wha-wha-wha-what can we d-d-d-do?

Wife looks up at Husband. She doesn't seem to hear anything he says.

HUSBAND : Wha-wha-what can we do?

WIFE : ......

They stay sitting like that face to face.

A long pause.

From a distance, soldiers are heard singing.

Husband and Wife listen to that.

The wind. Wife is startled.

HUSBAND : It's the wi-wi-wi-wind, n-no-no-nothing more.

Wife gets up.

Enters the kitchen and carries out a bamboo basket.

She spreads out the greens she has in the basket in front of the threshold. She sits down blocking the door.

Husband follows her movement with his eyes.

At first he is bewildered by Wife's behavior,

and then he slightly nods his head.

He looks out at where the brushwood gate should be.

The latch rattles again.

WIFE : (Sings slowly in the ordinary rhythm of a lullaby.)

My baby, my good baby!

Grow strong with no milk!

My baby, fussy baby!

Come on, stop fussing!

Or, you'll become a bandit.

A bad harvest year.

Once a bandit in this world,

There's no chance for you.

You end up with headsman.

Your head on a pole.

��Mommy! Ouch! Mommy! It hurts!��

Crows peck, magpies peck.

It's such a scary story.

Bitter is your lot!

It cannot be your story.

It's just a story.

Somebody else's story.

It's not your story.

Once a bandit in this world,

there's no chance for you.

You end up with the headman.

Your head on a pole.

The latch makes a big, loud rattle once and stops.

He looks at Wife and turns to look toward the brushwood gate.

Wife vainly fingers through the greens.

They listen.

HUSBAND : I-i-it's the wi-wi-wind.

The wind.

Wife fiddles again with the greens.

Husband follows Wife's movements with his eyes.

WIFE : (Gets up and enters the kitchen.)

Husband's eyes follow her.

Wife comes out from the kitchen.

Husband's eyes keep following Wife until she settles down near the threshold. Wife starts fingering the greens. Husband turns his eyes away from wife and throws a quick glance toward the gate. He stays still for quite a while. Then again his eyes are riveted on wife's hands idly moving through the greens. He lifts his rump up to be in a half-standing position. He wants to say something to Wife. He gives up and flops himself down.

He gets up, goes around to the back of the house.

He brings out a heap of straw.

Wife looks up at him.

He sits down near the gate and starts twisting strands of straw between his palms. He is making a rope.

A long pause.

He suddenly stops what he is doing.

Wife also stops.

A sound outside.

A pause.

Husband hesitantly approaches the gate.

He litens to the outside.

A sound.

Heaving a sigh, he turns around.

He catches Wife's eyes.

HUSBAND : It's a s-s-s-squir-squir-squirrel.

Wife drops her head.

And she fiddles with the greens again.

Husband twists straw. Soldiers are heard singing.

Husband stops and glances at Wife.

Wife keeps fiddling with the greens without reponding to Husband.

A bird suddenly chirps.

Both of them are startled to look up. Their eyes meet and instantly turn to the room as if with one accord.

Again, they go back to what they've been doing.

A pause.

There's no sign of the baby from the room.

Suddenly, the stage becomes darker

Startled again, they look up to the sky.

HUSBAND : It's a c-c-c-c-clo-clo-clo-cloud.

The shade slowly moves away.

The stage lights up.

The latch rattles again.

Husband jumps up and blocks his ears.

He turns toward the door, helplessly drops his hands from his ears.

He is at a loss to know what to do.

He gives a look around the gate.

He turns to look at Wife.

WIFE : (Slowly in a sad tone.)

My baby, my good baby!

Grow strong with no milk!

My baby, fussy baby!

Come on, stop fussing!

Or, you'll become a bandit.

A bad harvest year.

Once a bandit in this world,

There's no chance for you.

You end up with headsman.

Your head on a pole.

��Mommy! Ouch! Mommy! It hurts!��

Crows peck, magpies peck.

It's such a scary story.

Bitter is your lot!

It cannot be your story.

It's just a story.

Somebody else's story.

It's not your story.

The rattle abruptly stops.

In the meantime, Husband is on the lookout at the gate.

He turns back.

Wife keeps fiddling with the greens with deliberate nonchalance.

Husband twists straw again in such an intense manner that it's

as if he were trying to twist fear out of his mind.

The evening glow sets in.

The gow gradually intensifies.

The blood-red hue of the sunset eventually becomes dark purple.

Suddenly there is a black-out.

A pause.

In the darkness, a horse is heard neighing in the distance.

Startled at the sound, their faces become hardened.

Spotlights pick out Husband's face and then that of Wife.

The latch begins to rattle.

BABY : (In an amplified voice,like an echo) I am hungry!

Wife gets up.

Husband gets up.

Wife enters the room.

The stage is still dark.

A pause.

A dim light of a lamp lights up inside the room.

Wife comes out.

A spotlight is on Wife's face

and another on Husband's face.

They sit in the center of the yard.

A pause.

An owl hoots.

The spotlights show their faces listening.

A sound.

The spotlights go down.

The stage is dark again.

A pause.

Husban's face is lighted again.

HUSBAND : I-i-i-it's o-o-o-only a b-b-b-b-bird.

Wife's face is also lighted.

Birds are heard flapping as they move from one tree to another.

An owl hoots.

The spotlights go down.

A pause.

The stage is dark again.

A wolf howls.

After a long pause, the lights come back up

as if they were letting out a deep breath.

The lights pick up two faces crouching down on the center stage

-- Husband and Wife.

They look up toward the room.

On the rice-papered lattices of the sliding door, the silhouette of the baby appears as he jumps up to his feet.

The baby starts shaking the latch of the door.

In the stillness of the night,

it rumbles like thunder.

HUSBAND : (His lighted face turns to that of Wife.)

WIFE :(Slowly in a sad tone.)

My baby, my good baby!

Grow strong with no milk!

My baby, fussy baby!

Come on, stop fussing!

Or, you'll become a bandit.

A bad harvest year.

Once a bandit in this world,

There's no chance for you.

You end up with headsman.

Your head on a pole.

��Mommy! Ouch! Mommy! It hurts!��

Crows peck, magpies peck.

It's such a scary story.

Bitter is your lot!

It cannot be your story.

It's just a story.

Somebody else's story.

It's not your story.

The rattle stops.

A pause.

A horse is heard neighing again.

The rattle starts again. It's more vigorous this time.

In the stillness of the night, it rumbles like thunder.

The amplified voice of the baby resounds like an echo, ��My horse!��

HUSBAND : (Jumping up to his feet.) S-s-s-s-sweet h-h-h-heart!

(He looks down at Wife.)

WIFE : (Looking up at him.) No!

She hangs on to Husband's legs.

HUSBAND : (With his legs held by Wife, Husband looks out into the

darkness.)

Like an echo, the baby's voice

rings again in the air, ��My horse!��

The latch rattles.

Husband shakes Wife off his legs

and approches the room.

Wife runs after him and holds on to him again.

Husband kicks her off.

Wife collapses.

HUSBAND : (Husband slides the door open and enters the room.)

His silhouette shows up on the rice-papered lattices.

The big shadow knocks down the small one.

A big grain sack is placed on top of baby.

Husband comes outside.

Wife jumps up.

Husband holds Wife down to the ground.

Wife struggles to free herself from his grip, but Husband won't let her go.

On the rice-papered screen, the little shadow struggles,

pressed under the sack.

A long pause.

A voice from the room calls out like an echo, ��Mama!��

Wife rises up.

Husband knocks her down

and enters the room.

Another sack is placed on top of the first one.

Husband comes out.

He squats down on the ground tightly holding Wife in his arms as before.

Now and then, he throws a glance at the door.

Finally the shadow becomes quiet. It no longer moves.

The mournful neigh of a horse echoes.

Inside the room, the lamp goes out.

Moonlight illuminates the stage.

It gradually becomes darker.

Soon the moon is completely shaded by a cloud.

The wind.

Darkness.

The dim reflection of the moonlight.

Husband is seen carrying something on his A-frame across the yard.

Darkness on the stage.

The wind.

End of Act Three

ACT FOUR

Early morning, the following day.

Birds chirp.

The stage is empty.

The door to the room is closed.

Somebody is singing from a distance.

My baby, my good baby!

Grow strong with no milk!

My baby, fussy baby!

Come on, stop fussing!

Or, you'll become a bandit.

A bad harvest year.

The singing gradually becomes closer. It's a horse, yet very articulate voice. Old Woman enters. As in Act Two, she is in rags and carrying the same knapsack tied around her waist. But the knapsak she carries is somewhat bulgy this time. It looks like she has a gourd dipper inside. Wife enters from behind the house. She stares at Old Woman.

OLD WOMAN : I've got it (Unties her knapsack.) I've got my son back.

Wife goes around the house. Old Woman sits on the ground. Stroking the knapsack, she mumbles a lullaby. Her song is hardly audible. It is audible only when she hits a high note every now and then. Wife enters absent-mindedly. She offers a bowl of water to Old Woman.

OLD WOMAN : Thank you.(Drinks.) Thank you again. (She puts the bowl down on

the ground and picks up her knapsack.) You are my baby. You are never cold, never hot, never thirsty, and never hungry. And you never fuss. You are my good baby. (She rises. Wife follows with her eyes on the bulge of the knapsack.) Let's go. Your Mommy will bury you in a corner of her field where the birds chirp and the sun is warm. Let's go. (As she walks, she pats her knapsack.) You are so light, lighter than when you were born.(She exists singing a lullaby.)

Wife watches Old Woman leaving. For a while, Wife keeps her eyes fixed in where Old Woman left. It's a balmy spring day. In the midst of birds chirping, Old Woman's lullaby is almost inaudible. But it's still there trailing off. Wife enters the room.

A pause.

Husband enters carrying his A-frame and a pick.

He puts down his A-frame and stands there silently.

He calls Wife in a dejected voice.

HUSBAND : S-s-s-sweet ha-ha-ha-heart!

He goes around to the back yard.

Comes back to the front.

Goes out through the gate. Looks around.

He comes back after a moment.

Sits down on the ground with his head drooped down on his knees.

A pause.

He looks up at the door. Gets up and opens it.

Wife [a puppet] is seen hanging by the neck from a beam.

Husband rushes in and takes her down.

HUSBAND : S-s-s-sweet ha-ha-ha-heart!

He shakes her body.

Flops his body down beside her.

Buries his head between his knees.

A pause.

He gets up.

He unties the rope around Wife's neck and hangs it up on a beam.

A horse neighs.

The baby riding the winged horse enters through the gate of the front yard.

(Both the baby and the horse are puppets--abstract representations.)

The stage darkens. Spotlights focus on the baby and the horse, Husband's face, and Wife's body lying inside the room.

HUSBAND : (Stepping down to the yard, he collapses at the sight of the baby

and the horse.)

I-I-I-I've j-j-j-j-j-just b-b-b-b-bu-bur-buried you ......?

BABY : (The baby shakes his head,hands a bunch of azalea to his father.)

HUSBAND : (Husband walks up to the baby and takes the flowers as if he were

sleepwalking.)

BABY : (In an amplified voice.) Mommy! Mommy!

HUSBAND : (Enters the room and places the flowers on Wife's bosom.)

S-s-s-sweet ha-ha-ha-heart! You-you-your ba-ba-baby

ca-ca-ca-came b-b-back alive.

WIFE : (Wife [a puppet] gets up with the flowers and steps out of the

room to the front yard. She walks up to her baby and hugs him.

BABY : (In an amplified voice.) Mommy! Daddy! Get on the horse!

Hurry up!

HUSBAND : (Picking Wife up and setting her on the horse.) The-the-there!

R-r-ru-ru-run a-a-l-l-long! H-h-hu-hu-hu-hurry up be-be-before

pe-pe-pe-people g-g-ge-ge-get here! I t-t-t-told them that you

are de-de-de-dead. P-p-p-people in the vi-vi-village wi-will be

he-here p-p-p-pretty s-s-soon.

BABY : (Baby waves his hand.)

WIFE : Come on! Hurry up! Soldiers are coming this way.

HUSBAND : (Wiping tears with his sleeves.) A-a-al-all right, a-a-all

right.

But he doesn't mount the horse. Instead he takes the horse by the bridle and goes out through the gate.

The stage brightens up again.

It's empty.

Village people and soldiers enter.

VILLAGE MAN 1 : Well, here we are.

A soldier rushes to the room and flings the door open.

SOLDIER 1 : Where is he?

SOLDIER 2 : Are you sure?

VILLAGE MAN 1 : Yes, last night, he told me so. It had a fit and died.

SOLDIER 3 : Humm.

VILLAGE MAN 1 : He said he had buried it up on the mountain.

VILLAGE MAN 2 : Look! Over there! Gee Whiz!

PEOPLE : They are riding the horse up to Heaven! They are throwing

flowers!

When you get to Heaven, please tell God not to send any superbaby down to our village again.

Everybody adds a word or two.

A song comes from the sky.

FROM THE SKY : My baby, my good baby.

ALL : Shoo-oo! Shoo! Don't ever come back!

Away, away! Shoo-oo! Go away!

(Making gestures of shooing birds away in the field.)

FROM THE SKY : Grows strong with no milk ......

PEOPLE : Shoo-oo! Don't come back! Go away! Shoo-oo-ooh!

In no time, the gestures of shooing turn into lovely dancing. Everone is soon drawn into wild and vigorous dancing. Their hands, feet, heads, and shoulders are involved in vigorous dance movements. They all undulate their bodies frantically, as if they were dancing a shaman's dance or a farmer's dance.

FROM THE SKY : ......My baby, my fussy baby

Come on, stop fussing......

PEOPLE : Shoo-oo! Don't ever come back! Shoo-oo! Don't ever come back!

Shoo-oo-oo-ooh!

As the sky and the earth

respond to each other in a gradually increasing degree of exhilaration,

the curtain slowly comes down.

CURTAIN