A Little Gleam Of Time

Adapted From William Shakespeare's
King Lear


By
S. Barrow Wilson




















































































FADE IN

EXT. OLD RADIAL PRISON - A BLEAK WINTER DAY

CLOSE on the clattering hooves of a pair of horses. They are backing
steps, over icy paving stones.

The DRIVER of this hearse cranes his neck to see behind while
alternately pulling the reigns and tapping the rumps of the horses.
Like them, he's exhaling frost. A wall of weathered red brick passes
slowly behind them.

He brings them to a halt.

INT. PRISON LOADING DOCK

Guards in surgical masks heave open a pair of massive oak doors. The
hinges GRIND. A ribbon of sunlight cuts in above the van. Numbing cold
pours in along the stone floor.

Two women in tattered street clothes begin to load a stretcher.
Mismatched in both size and intent, they struggle. A corpse wound in
its final bed sheet starts to roll.

                              GUARD
                   (pulling down her
                    mask)
                  Drop it, you'll pick it up!

PENNY has landed hard on her knees. She is a teenager with long
chestnut hair tied back in a tail. Her eyes are luminous with pain,
her white kerchief mask flutters with her breath.

The other woman is a towering SLAV. Her chopped hair is the color of
slag, her wide set eyes black and vacant. She wears no mask. Her
teeth are sharklike.

Penny painfully gains her feet. She will slow down.

Three more stretchers are lined up on the floor of this hall outside
the infirmary. A legend appears on the screen:
HOLLOWAY PRISON FOR
WOMEN, 1918.

Inside a door is a fetid ward of two dozen closely spaced cots. Each
patient is engaged in a desperate struggle. Fever and delirium have
turned even young heads of hair to gray.

Through another door is the examination room. A white smocked
doctor is perched precariously on a tall stool. He sleeps fitfully,
his head down on the marble counter.

The two stretcher bearers complete their task. The guard pulls open
a door.

                                   GUARD
                   Right now. In with you.

                                   PENNY
                   Down here? With the cold and sickness?


                                                                                                                                              2

                                  GUARD
                    A fortnight you'll stay. Contact
                   with the influenza ward means
                   quarantine.

INT. CELL

Below a small window set high on the wall is a steam radiator.
GONERIL, an older, slightly stout woman, is there trying to keep warm.
Penny rushes in to join her.

                                 GONERIL
                    Come along then. Warm up now.

They huddle for a moment in front of the radiator.

The Slav looms behind them. She cocks her thick forearms and delivers
a quick, violent thrust into their backs.

                                  PENNY
                    Oh! She's a beast!

They've been shoved in the direction of a wooden bench. They huddle
upon it. Penny considers a fight.

                                  GONERIL
                   Shh… Now, let's not. She cares little
                   what she does.

A narrow beam of sunlight penetrates the thawed center of the window.
It falls upon the floor by the opposite wall. There is a ragged blanket
nearby.

                                   GONERIL
                    Look dear, some sun.

They drag the bench into this meager light. They settle down upon
it. Goneril spreads the blanket over their knees.

                                      PENNY
                   It's cold still-
                   (then acidly, to the
                    Slav)
                   How do people live with themselves,
                   hoarding the fire like that?

                                       GONERIL
                              (whispering)
                   Steady on now, she is nothing to us.

                       PENNY
                             That face of hers. Those teeth. She
                   reminds me of one of those guard dogs.
                  A pinscher. A pinscher'll eat its own
                   pups you know.

                     GONERIL
    A pleasant thought, that.
    (quiet, aside)
    Apropos of our friend's condition.

                                                                                                                                 3


    PENNY
                                                Apro-pos?

                      GONERIL
    Your pinscher analogy, dear.
    (reluctantly)
    It was a few years back now. She was
    picked up in an East End absinthe shop.
    Her two babies had been found dead of
    exposure.

                          PENNY
    Lord Almighty. To forsake her own!

                         GONERIL
    Shh....
    (self-consciously)
    It's in her face.... Or absent, rather.
    Empathy. Hope.

They huddle in silence for a moment.

                          PENNY
    I wonder now. Is her's to be my lot
    as well? I'm inside now. What will
    keep me own mum from turning her back
    on me?

                          GONERIL
    Now dear, you're young. The real victim
    of your crime was yourself, now wasn't
    it? Keep that thought close. I'll
    wager you'll be remembered yet when
    you get out.

                            PENNY
                               (re: Slav)
    We've always been poor, like her. I'd
    not done it otherwise.

The huge woman stares. Steam rises off her back.

                          GONERIL
                         (re: Slav)
    Fortune will not save you from that.
                                 (beat)
    It will just as likely swallow you.

A tear is building in her eye. Penny looks sideways at her.

                 PENNY
    (with curious respect)
    You're a rich lady.

                       GONERIL
    I was. Once. My father's plantation
    was as big as all of Scotland.

She looks at the girl, who is stunned.

                                                                                                                                            4

                       GONERIL
    It wasn't enough. Not enough to spare
    me that.
                    (nod to Slav)

                          PENNY
    You, ma'am? You murdered your rich
    family?

               GONERIL
    No, dear.
                   (beat)
    Not in so many words.

She looks up into the shaft of light.

                         GONERIL
    Perhaps you should hear the story. You
    could take steps then, see that you
    don't end your days alone.

                             PENNY
    Please, then ma'am. We've a long night
    in front of us.

From Goneril's POV the borders of the window begin to blur and slowly
fade to black, leaving only the shaft of light.

                            PENNY
                            (O.C.)
    It must've been cold there too ma'am?
    In Scotland?

In the darkness the light takes on a halo. It becomes apparent that
it is filtering through a dense and misty forest. Sounds of flowing
water, tropical birds and chattering gibbons fade in.

                         GONERIL
                          (V.O.)
    Oh dear, no. We were not in Scotland.
    This was a wild, primeval place, very
    far away. And warm it was. Warm as
    the laundry hall on an August
    afternoon....

EXT. JUNGLE - DAYBREAK, FOUR YEARS EARLIER

The light glows ghostlike a moment longer, then blinks out. Beneath
a shroud of mist a small stream becomes visible. It's running clear
and fast through a bed of white limestone.

CLOSE on the water as it winds past coiling plumes of fern and massive
black tree trunks.

A legend appears on the screen:
BURMA 1914.

A new sound fades in. A growing white noise.

                                                                                            CUT TO

                                                                                                                                         5

OPEN AIR. Black, burgeoning clouds are stunningly close. With a
dull roar the water sails through space, then plunges, dropping into
a ninety foot plume.

MOUNTAIN PAVILION
BELOW

The falls have worn a basin into the limestone. Beneath a layer
of vapor the water pools cool and clear. A footbridge has been hewn
from the same ubiquitous white stone. It spans the pool in a graceful
arch, reaching up to a slightly higher mantle. Here,
luminous white
against a backdrop glistening wet jungle, four intricately carved pillars
support a slender spire of gold.

The theme fades in: Ralph Vaughan-Williams'
Fantasia on a theme by
Thomas Tallis.

A shaft of light breaks from the rolling clouds. It illuminates the
spire and crosses the falls, turning droplets of mist into dancing
sprites of color. A rainbow appears.

A legend appears on the screen:
A Little Gleam Of Time.

At ground level we look up a LUMINOUS PATH to the falls. It is paved
with sea shells. The shell glows opalescent, then wanes under
intermittent breaks in the clouds. Verdant, glistening wet foliage
rises steeply to one side.

A pair of boots CRUNCH into the shell, filling the frame. They pause,
then step forward, followed by a set of horse's hooves.

We pull back to reveal an old man, from behind. His steps are labored;
the wide brim of his bush hat tilted down. His white linen suit hangs
damply, a folded newspaper in the coat pocket.

                                                                                        CUT TO

A LONG SHOT

This path is cut into the sheer side of a mountain. The old man is
in miniature, trudging toward the falls and the pavilion, which stands
on a promontory. The bridge is revealed to be crossing a ledge where
the water takes another precipitous drop. This is a truly great fall,
again down onto limestone. Here the stream begins another journey,
first through a narrow belt of tea planted foothills, then out into a
misty expanse of rice paddy.

A legend appears on the screen:
Adapted By S. Barrow Wilson From William
Shakespeare's
The Tragedy Of King Lear.

CLOSE on a stone carving. It is a squatting deity, an animist guardian
of the trail. In the foreground lies the trunk of a fallen tree.

A six hundred pound TIGRESS drops onto the tree trunk. The frame is
lit with the colors of it's massive face. It steps into the camera
and out of the frame. ANOTHER huge cat drops. It follows the first.
They are hunting, stalking through the mist.

                                                                                                                                        6

EXT/INT. PAVILION

The old man has tethered the horse before the bridge. Still from
behind, he steps up into the pavilion. He drops his hat and the
newspaper onto a stone bench. The headline screams: TOTAL WAR.

Sounds of falling water, birds and monkeys fade in.

THE OLD MAN'S FACE

It's LEAR. His expression is of pained resolve. He is looking out
over his kingdom through a clearing sky.

An unnatural buzzing sound fades in. Lear hears it. He scowls.
Suddenly close and level with his line of sight, a brightly colored,
fragile looking biplane bursts through a cloud. The roar is deafening
as the prop cracks the air. It tips its wings in a turn to avoid the
mountain.

We see Lear through the pavilion with the dark jungle immediately
behind. He has ducked in alarm. He straightens, slowly, painfully.

                     LEAR
     The world has gone mad.

JUNGLE

The tigers are visible through the trees above the path Lear has just
taken. They are at a crouch due to the plane. A moment, then they
are up.

PAVILION

Lear is weary but resolute.

                   LEAR
    I will have no part of it.

He sits. There is quiet except for the water.

A LONG SHOT with the horse, bridge and pavilion. The sound of water.

CLOSE ON LEAR'S HORSE

It whinnies nervously.

CLOSE ON LEAR

He looks impassively in the direction of his horse.

ANOTHER LONG SHOT. The rising sound of water.

CLOSE ON LEAR'S FACE. He's perplexed. We pull back.

THE TIGER'S FACE has appeared huge, burning bright in the dark behind
him. Lear does not turn. He feels the presence. His expression
levels out.

                                                                                                                                         7

The tiger's POV: Lear turns slowly to face the cat. His expression
gathers. It says: Go ahead. Make my day.

A terrific EXPLOSION.

                                                                                            FLASH PAN

JUNGLE

Birds bolting from trees. Tigers leaping.

MIN

Lear's valet. A small, lively man of Shan descent. He wears a white
linen suit and is leaping wildly, waving a huge Wembley revolver over
his head.

             MIN
    HA! HA! YAH!

The revolver explodes again.

A tiger is seen in full flight.

A lusty grin comes to Lear's face.

           LEAR
    That's my boy.

Min is pissed. He shouts in Burmese to two others in native dress.
They arrive with a rickshaw topped with a parasol. Min hustles Lear
to his seat.

               MIN
    Come. Come now.

JUNGLE PATH - MOMENTS LATER

They start down the way Lear has come, Min walking with the horse
alongside the rickshaw. He reaches down and picks up a piece of vine.
He shows it's inch long spikes to Lear.

                           MIN
    Uncle, you tell me. If man's brains
    were in his heels, and not his head,
    could not these brains be in danger
    from thorns in his path?

              LEAR
    (earnestly, looking
    at the thorns)
    Aye, boy.

                           MIN
    Uncle, then you could go out anytime.
    (he tosses the thorns)
    And leave your shoes at home.

                                                                                                                                                                 8

                LEAR
    (puzzled, then grinning)
                  HA!

The shot lengthens and goes aerial into the clearing sky. Point of
view is from the biplane as the credits roll. We pass over the vast,
magnificent plantation as the sun rises over mountains, hills, and
river plain. There are thatched roofed long houses on stilts, and
metal roofed western structures built on defendable high ground.
Here and there golden, bell shaped pagodas rise out of the lush green
surface. Credits close over Lear's citadel on a hill. It is a large
square compound walled in teak and topped with the Union Jack. On a
foothill below lies a newly cut airstrip.

EXT. AIRSTRIP - MORNING

From the ground we see the plane pass low and loud overhead. The
frame settles down on GLOUCESTER and his son EDMUND. Gloucester is a
robust old graybeard and he is excited, gesticulating. Edmund is
dark, sullen and handsome.

               GLOUCESTER
    Look! Look at it will you? They're
    sailing on air!

Edmund raises an eyebrow. His arms are crossed.

             GLOUCESTER
    Just imagine it. The thrill. Edgar
    must be loving it!

THE DOUBLE COCKPIT

CORNWALL is the pilot. He's charged up and devious.

EDGAR is a slender, vulnerable boy. He's shocked and pale.

THE AIRSTRIP

                GLOUCESTER
    Now then. Yes, yes, watch. This time
    as they come around, in low over the
    rice paddy. Here Cornwall will release
    his vapor. It'll kill the mosquitoes
    he says. Prevent them from hatching
    in the water. Can you imagine, Edmund
    my boy? No more mosquitoes?

Women in woven conical hats and wrap skirts called longyi are stooped
over, working the paddy. They stand at the approach of the plane.

Cornwall opens his tanks, releasing vaporized DDT.

The women look about the cloud suddenly enveloping them. They cover
their mouths and start to run.

               GLOUCESTER
    HA! That'll show them!

                                                                                                                                                                    9

              GLOUCESTER
      (He slaps Edmund on
      the back.)
    Here, here! They're coming in now.

THE COCKPIT

Coming in to land. Cornwall is grinning. Edgar is ill.

THE AIRSTRIP

The scene is a new airstrip. An outbuilding is under construction.
There is a new flatbed truck, scattered shipping crates, fuel tanks
on stilts.

The two flyers disembark. Edgar heads to the shade next to the truck.
It's obvious he's vomited on himself. Cornwall smirks as he removes
his gloves.

               GLOUCESTER
    Edgar? Edgar my boy?

                 EDGAR
    I'm fine father, really. I'll need
    just a minute.

Edgar sits against a wheel of the truck. Gloucester looks to Cornwall.

               CORNWALL
    He'll soon gain his feet. Whether
    we'll make a flyer of him is another
    matter, I'm afraid.

Gloucester regards his prostrate child. He's disappointed.

Cornwall casts a calculating eye on Edmund.

               CORNWALL
    Is this not your son as well, sir?

              GLOUCESTER
               (disappointed)
    His breeding sir, has been at my charge.
    I've so often blushed to acknowledge
    him, I'm blind to it now.

               CORNWALL
    Surely, I cannot conceive your meaning.

This opening brings a smile to Gloucester's face.

               GLOUCESTER
               (conspiring)
    Sir. I can assure you this young
    fellow's mother could. It was at that
    point that her belly grew big and round,
    and she had indeed sir, a son for her
    cradle before a husband for her bed!

Edmund looks away. He's burning.

                                                                                                                                           10

               GLOUCESTER
               (amused)
    Do you smell a fault?

               CORNWALL
    Sir. Could I wish such a fault undone?
    The result!

               GLOUCESTER
    Yes, handsome he is. It is Edgar
    though, one year older, who is my son
    by order of law.

Gloucester puts his arm around Edmund.

               GLOUCESTER
    Yet he is no dearer to my heart than
    this fellow, who came so saucily into
    the world. Indeed. His mother was a
    rare beauty of the East, and his making
    memorable sport.
                 (beat)
    And at the end of the day, even the
    son of a tart must be acknowledged.
    Have you met this noble gentleman
    Edmund?

                EDMUND
    No, my Lord.

               GLOUCESTER
    This is our Lord Cornwall. Just in
    from England with Regan, his new bride.
    And you know that fine lady to be a
    dear daughter to our own Lord Lear.
    It is they who have brought all this
    wondrous machinery.

Pull back to include machines and Edgar seated. Edgar has a canteen,
from which he gargles and spits.

               GLOUCESTER
    As with your dear wife sir, Edmund has
    been away from Burma quite sometime.
    He is just returned from University in
    Madras-
               (regarding him)
    -complete with the outward signs of a
    new found piety.

               EDMUND
         (gravely, with a bow)
    My services to your Lordship.

               CORNWALL
    Young man, I am drawn to you instantly.
    I shall seek to know you better.

                                                                                                                                                                  11

               EDMUND
    Sir, I shall study deserving.

                                                                                                               CUT TO

INT. COURTYARD PAVILION - AFTERNOON

Within a large open sided structure. A lively dance hall tune is
being played on a recorder. A small monkey is high on a perch,
dancing. In one hand he holds a slice of melon.

REGAN is seated at tea. She's wearing an elaborate outfit better suited
to the city than the plantation. She wears expensive jewelry. We
see her make up melting as she wrinkles her nose at the monkey.

Goneril is seated next to her sister. She's not quite dowdy but
certainly more provincial in appearance than her sister. Her khaki
dress is functional. Her outlook is dour. She looks at Regan, then
up at the monkey. She's exasperated.

The tune ends. The monkey sits, then pitches the fruit at Goneril.
She ducks.

LONG SHOT

Down from a parapet to the pavilion in the center of the compound.

    GONERIL
    (O.C.)
    Os-WALD!

INSIDE PAVILION

OSWALD appears by the table. He is a house servant from India;
overweight and ill tempered. He's bolted a scone, and his black eyes
dart quickly back and forth as he struggles to swallow it. His puffy
neck threatens to pop the collar of his white uniform.

               GONERIL
    Oswald. Shoo that animal. At tea
    yet.

Oswald moves with clumsy malevolence. He's going to come at the monkey
from behind.

Apart from her sisters is the player of the recorder, CORDELIA. A
girl of twenty, she's wearing a white blouse that gathers in lace at
her throat. There's a blush to her cheeks that could only be natural,
and her long, neatly plaited hair is silken blond in the sunlight.
She is looking up at the monkey. In her luminous blue eyes we see no
guile, but recognize an intelligent, compassionate soul. She smiles.
We are in love with her.

             CORDELIA
    (low, in confidence)
    Run Disraeli, run.

                                                                                                                                                               12

Disraeli looks at Cordelia. He leaps easily out of Oswald's grasp,
leaving him to crash down with the perch.

Cordelia's smile widens with embarrassment.

               GONERIL
    Oh, we do try don't we?

             OSWALD
    Memsahib. Many apologies.
    He gathers his mess.

               REGAN
               (smiling)
    Dear Cordelia. What was it you called
    that scheming little beast?

               CORDELIA
    His name is Disraeli. Father named
    him.

               REGAN
               (amused)
    Imagine that. The most progressive
    Prime Minister in the history of Great
    Britain, the object of such ridicule.

               CORDELIA
    I'm sure father just-

               GONERIL
    Dear sister. You shall note the change
    come over father these two years you've
    been away. His penchant for
    irascibility only grows with age.
               (beat)
    But you've been home. You've a
    husband! A most noble and enterprising
    fellow. Do you think he could take a
    liking to Burma?

               REGAN
               (beat, then low)
    Well. You simply must know. I've not
    mentioned it in our correspondence for
    fear of father's reaction. -The able
    bodied men of my husband's family all
    have commissions in the Royal Navy.
    He cannot stay. Not with a war on.

Goneril and Cordelia are stunned.

               REGAN
    I wanted to wait until my Lord Cornwall
    was here to speak of it. But you need
    know. We are here for a short time
    only. To plant rubber.

                                                                                                                                                             13

                  REGAN
    A ship is in route from Guiana to
    Rangoon as we speak, bringing one
    thousand of the plants. The aeroplane,
    the lorry, all is dedicated to the
    husbandry of this crop. It's the war.
    It changes everything. Rubber is where
    the profit will be.

               GONERIL
    -You'll not stay.

               REGAN
    The time has come for us all to consider
    the future. With the assistance of
    Gloucester and his sons we could run
    this company from London. Where we
    belong. Where we've always belonged.
    Father is an elderly gentleman now.
               (to Cordelia)
    Dear Cordelia. There is a war of
    unprecedented scale on the horizon.
    It is no time to be caught off at the
    end of the earth.
               (delicately)
    Do you know that France will not end
    his exile and return to his own country?

               CORDELIA
               (embarassed)
    I surely would not know. We are merely
    friends-

               GONERIL
    We shall find out. He will dine with
    us tonight. Father has made it clear
    everyone is to attend. And know dear
    sister, as attractive as your plan
    sounds, father is not likely to leave
    here. He could never be the potentate
    at home that he is here.

               REGAN
    We are at a crossroads. I think you
    both recognize that. It is not
    unreasonable for us to start making
    some of the crucial decisions that so
    affect our lives.

With downcast eyes and a withdrawn jaw ALBANY is a picture of
reluctance as he steps into the pavilion. He bows to the ladies.

               GONERIL
             (with a snap)
    And where are you going?

               ALBANY
    Ladies. I have been dispatched to
    Pawut for a show of our lord's militia.
    I should expect to return before dark.

                                                                                                                                                              14

               GONERIL
    There is trouble?

               ALBANY
    I believe not. Ta Mok's men have
    returned with prisoners. Any remaining
    insurrectionists will be scattered
    surely.

               GONERIL
    Well. Do ride tall. Exteriors are
    everything with these people.

                 ALBANY
    Yes. Indeed.
           (bow)
    Ladies.
Exit Albany.

               CORDELIA
               (agitated)
    Father's tea. -Excuse me, I must go
    prepare it!

Exit Cordelia.

EXT. COURTYARD - MOMENTS LATER

The gates of the compound swing open. Albany and his mounted soldiers
ride out into a vivid tropical landscape and disappear. In gallops a
black stallion ridden by Edmund. He dismounts to tie up the horse.
Behind him is the pavilion with the two sisters still seated.

COURTYARD PAVILION

               REGAN
    And who would this be?

               GONERIL
    That is Edmund. You remember. His son
    by the native woman. Gloucester has
    kept him abroad mostly.

Regan eyes him. A twinkle of lust.

Goneril eyes her.

COURTYARD

Edmund's POV of the pavilion. He sees the women and from such a
distance assumes they are belittling him. He turns out of their view
and ascends a narrow run of steps to an outer parapet.
Edmund pounds his fist.

               EDMUND
    Bastard. Illegitimate. Where do they
    get the right?

                                                                                                                                                              15

He spreads his arms and looks at his hands.

               EDMUND
    My shape is as true as my brother's.
    My mind as nimble, my heart as
    willing.... My mother. Not honest.
    Where do they get the right? To brand
    us with baseness. With lowliness.

He buries his head in his hands.

Cornwall approaches on foot, leading a horse. He sees Edmund on the
parapet.

               CORNWALL
    Young Edmund! Have you spotted the
    Hun?

                   EDMUND
         (nervous)
    The Hun, sir?

               CORNWALL
    Dear boy, I jest. I was hoping you
    could point me in the direction of a
    village called Pe. I've been told
    it's hard by here.

               EDMUND
    It is about halfway to my father's
    house, yet not so easy to find. -He
    would tell you that it is not a proper
    place to find a gentleman.

               CORNWALL
    Edmund, I would believe him. My
    interest would be business. Pure
    business.

He steps closer.

               CORNWALL
    In all honesty, I had hoped I could
    press you into service as a guide. I
    could then sound you on a proposal
    that promises to enhance both our
    fortunes.

               EDMUND
               (beat)
    We could return before dark if we set
    out straight away. I am at your
    service.

EXT. TERRACES - MINUTES LATER

The small mountain is terraced, cultivated in steep levels of green
tea plants. Edmund and Cornwall guide their mounts in a steady ascent.
At each level they pass a trough and a water wheel for irrigation.
Reaching the summit, they burst onto a plateau of vibrant red blooms.

                                                                                                                                        16

They pull to a stop.

               EDMUND
    Opium. Do you smell it, sir?

               CORNWALL
    Indeed I do.

They ride a short way inland, approaching a long house on stilts with
a thatched roof. A irrigation trench fed by the water wheels
culminates in a small pond. There are several small fires smoldering.
Assorted Burmans are scattered about, seated in the dirt. They are
red eyed and wasted.

               EDMUND
    Lear? He permits this?

               CORNWALL
    Our Lord Lear would know nothing of
    it. Am I to believe the same of you?

               EDMUND
         (defensively)
    That is right. My father has been
    known to employ dacoits on occasion,
    to frighten his retainers.
            (off Cornwall's raised eyebrow)
    It keeps them dependent on his authority.
    He told me this is where he lodges them.

               CORNWALL
    Would it surprise you to know that
    though this mountain belongs to Lear,
    it is your father who has insisted on
    cultivating the tea here? On the
    pretense of fealty to him?

               EDMUND
    My father's hand, in this?

               CORNWALL
    That is right. But not so deep as you
    might think. He neither cultivates
    nor trades in it personally, but merely
    takes what I would consider a knavishly
    small tribute for his silence.

A Khmer in British military dress appears out of the jungle on a horse.
His name is TA MOK. With him are native militia, loin clothed with
feathered topknots. They carry Enfields with fixed bayonets. They
are not drugged, but threatening.

               CORNWALL
    My. Can you tell them we're friends?

               EDMUND
         (in Khmer)
    All is well. My father knows we are
    here.

                                                                                                                                                                   17

The Khmer nods skeptically. After a moment he turns and rides off
with his men.

               CORNWALL
    One of our petty bandits no doubt.

               EDMUND
    Yes. Though this would be one of more
    substance. He's called Ta Mok. He is
    bound to my father and Lord Lear, yet
    he holds immediate sway in matters
    native. That would include this
    enterprise.

               CORNWALL
    Ta Mok. Well, that puts a face to the
    name.
               (beat)
    And brings us to our purpose. Edmund,
    I share this with you in trust, trust
    between two gentlemen of discretion.
               (a nod from Edmund)
    As you know our Lord Lear is a gentleman
    of advanced years. It follows that
    the only certainty for this plantation
    can be change. And I needn't tell you
    these are troubled times for the world.
    You must believe me when I tell you
    that in the immediate future, it shall
    be this trade that remains constant.

               EDMUND
    A trade in death.

               CORNWALL
               (a smile)
    A true gentleman will take a stand
    when confronted with a sight such as
    this. -Yet in this instance, could
    that same gentleman be blamed should
    he take his most natural aversion, and
    say, compartmentalize it? For the
    greater good?

Edmund raises an eyebrow.

               CORNWALL
    Indeed, what choices does he face?
    Shall he drive the trade off this
    mountain? Such a step would serve
    merely to drive it underground,
    certainly no farther than your immediate
    border. Once there, it would still be
    underfoot, yet you've lost any
    stabilizing influence upon it. -We
    shall speak nothing of lost revenue.

                                                                                                                                                                18

               EDMUND
    It is traded in Kowloon for tea, which
    is imported quite chastely to London,
    is it not?

               CORNWALL
    That is correct. A profitable trade
    of long standing, in which a wise man
    need not come away sullied.

Edmund looks back across the field of blooms, considering.

               CORNWALL
    On a personal level I find it offensive
    that provincials like Ta Mok should
    usurp revenue that rightly belongs to
    my wife's family. To you, and your
    family.
               (in confidence)
    My boy, this operation shall easily be
    taken a step further. Laboratory
    equipment for refinement to morphine
    has already been imported. Buyers
    await. It is a matter of simply
    employing savages such as Ta Mok to
    continue this cultivation. They will
    get their present rate, there need be
    no strife.

Edmund is sold.

               CORNWALL
    What say you Edmund, to this profitable
    transition? What is a young and
    ambitious gentleman's hope for the
    future?

               EDMUND
    I am for it.

               CORNWALL
    That is a thoughtful decision my boy.

They shake hands.

               CORNWALL
    Let us back then. The sun is setting.

               EDMUND
    Sir, could you ride on? You need only
    mind the grade. I would like to have
    just a bit more of a look here.

               CORNWALL
    Very well. Might you scout a location
    for the laboratory while your at it?
         (he produces a tube
         from his saddlebag)
    Here is the blueprint.

                                                                                                                                                                 19

               CORNWALL
    Your knowledge of the language shall
    be invaluable when we bring in Ta Mok.
    We shall see you at dinner.

Cornwall rides. Edmund trots his horse through the poppies to the
edge of the mountain and watches his descent. The next mountain is
close across a narrow gorge, and fully forested. A monkey BURSTS
from the jungle, then another, in pursuit. There is a brief,
screeching CLASH before they disappear into the foliage.

               EDMUND
         (looking over the
         gorge)
    Thou, Nature, art my goddess; to thy
    law my services are bound. -Why should
    I stand in the plague of custom, and
    permit them to deprive me of what is
    mine? Who takes more energy, more
    complete strength from the life they
    are given?
               (sadly)
    Be it a bastard's life…
               (beat)
    It shall be a bastard's law. Edgar,
    legitimate brother. Your inheritance
    shall be my own.

Edmund rides, then is seen galloping along a shell road, then turning
into a gate and up a steep wagon track.

EXT. GLOUCESTER'S PLANTATION - DUSK

The tea plantation sits atop the highest of a group of green foothills.
Dark mountains rise into the mist behind. There is a huge whitewashed
barn with tin chimneys and windows two stories high. Nearby are a
stable and shed. At the crown of the hill stands the house, laid out
in a large square. There are wide galleries on each side. The hipped
roof rises gently over the galleries, then climbs steeply to culminate
in a glass pilothouse. This height commands the view north, south,
east and west.

Edmund dismounts before the house. He steps onto the gallery and
spies around a corner. Edgar is approaching on foot.

                EDMUND
    And pat he comes, like the punch line
    of a joke. I grow now, I prosper.

He dons a prayer cap and kneels. Edgar rounds the corner.

               EDMUND
    ASH-HADU ANLA ELAHA ILLA-ALLAH. WA
    ASH-HADU ANNA MOHAMMADAN RASUL-ALLAH.

               EDGAR
    Edmund? My brother? What serious
    contemplation are you in?

                                                                                                                                                            20

               EDMUND
    Edgar.
         (rising, feigning
         surprise)
    Brother, in times of peril I dare not
    fail to reaffirm my faith.

               EDGAR
    Times of peril?

               EDMUND
    Unhappy times brother. Unnatural times,
    in which ancient relations are
    dissolved, friends and family banished,
    father turned against child.

               EDGAR
    What? You were praying. Since when
    have you adopted Islam?

               EDMUND
         (taking him by the
         elbow)
    Come, come now brother. When did you
    see our father last?

               EDGAR
    Why, just last evening.

               EDMUND
    You spoke with him?

               EDGAR
    Indeed two hours.

               EDMUND
    You parted on good terms? You noted
    no displeasure in him?

               EDGAR
    None. None at all.

               EDMUND
    Think then. Think when it was you
    might have offended him. And heed my
    advice when I warn you to avoid his
    sight. A least until time has cooled
    his rage.

               EDGAR
    His rage? Someone has done me wrong.

               EDMUND
    That is what I fear brother. So I beg
    you, keep a prudent distance until his
    mood softens. In fact, retire to my
    rooms, here is the key. In due time I
    will arrange for you to attempt a
    reconciliation with him. But until
    then, if you must go out, go armed.

                                                                                                                                                         21

               EDGAR
    Armed, brother?

               EDMUND
    Edgar, I advise you to the best. Go
    armed. I've told you what I've seen
    and heard, but words cannot convey the
    depth of ill will toward you. Until I
    can get to the root of this, I beg you
    go. Hide yourself.

               EDGAR
    I will hear from you then?

               EDMUND
    Brother, I serve you in this matter.

Exit Edgar.

               EDMUND
    A brother noble. A nature so far from
    doing harm he expects none. I see
    this business. If not by birth, I
    shall have power by wit.

                                                                                                                     CUT TO

EXT. LEAR'S LONG HALL - NIGHT

An exterior wall of Lear's compound frames the long hall, the interior
side is closed off from the courtyard with tall louvered shutters. A
torch glow is cast through the slats and out into the dark compound.
Insects hum loudly. Down the gallery walk and two abreast come Regan
and Goneril, Cordelia and FRANCE, then Cornwall and Albany. Gloucester
and Edmund follow.

               GONERIL
    What is our father up to I wonder?

               REGAN
    It was never like him to miss the
    evening meal in the old days.

Albany steps ahead to get the door.

               GONERIL
    In his late temper we've often found
    him to take his dinner from a bottle.

               GLOUCESTER
               (to Edmund)
    Your brother knew quite well the
    importance of this meeting.

               EDMUND
    He did sir.

               GLOUCESTER
    You know nothing of his whereabouts?

                                                                                                                                                           22

               EDMUND
    Sir, I do not.

They enter.

INT. LONG HALL

Two oil torches mounted on tripods occupy one end of the room and two
more flank a raised dais. Shadows thrown by the open flames dance
about the rafters overhead. In a shadowed corner a native works a
giant paddle fan, softly billowing mosquito cloth that hangs from the
shutters. The assembly gathers around an array of wicker chairs, and
is seated.

Lear's desk sits upon the dais. A door to the rear opens and Min
enters. His suit is bright and crisp, an orchid in the lapel. He
carries an easel and a furled chart. He does not sit, but from his
elevated position regards the gathering with contempt. He sets the
easel, then picks up a bottle of Pinch whiskey from the desk and
returns through the door.

Enter Lear followed by Min. All rise. Murmured greetings are offered,
but Lear does not respond. He is unsteady and his eyes are red. He
drops into his seat, the others sit.

There is an awkward silence.

               LEAR
            (truculently)
    Our Lord Cornwall. Your new wife has
    brought you far afield. I trust you've
    found her family not too uncivilized.

Cornwall stands.

               CORNWALL
    Sir. We have traveled far. And most
    happily, we have found here a gracious
    slice of England.
               (a bow)

Lear nods. He softens his tone.

               LEAR
    France. Our noble friend of long
    standing. Have we proved passable
    hosts this time out?

France stands. He is in his early forties. He recognizes Lear's
condition.

               FRANCE
    My Lord. In your home I receive welcome
    kindness. Always.
               (a bow)

               LEAR
    Well then. Upon that foundation of
    good will I shall lay my darker purpose.
    Min. The map.

                                                                                                                                                           23

Reluctantly Min unfurls the map and positions it on the easel.

                LEAR
    You are all to know now, that I have
    divided in three this plantation, with
    firm intent to confer its cares and
    responsibilities to younger strengths.

REGAN raises an eyebrow.

               LEAR
    So unburdened, I shall crawl gratefully
    toward my death.

CORDELIA is startled.

               LEAR
    Lord Cornwall who I welcome as a son,
    and our always loving son Albany: The
    hour has come for the dowries of my
    daughters to be established. In so
    doing, future strife among you will be
    prevented now. Noble France: You have
    made honorable intentions plain in
    regard to my youngest daughter. Your
    efforts shall here and now be answered.
               (beat)
    This is a bountiful land. I have
    striven to be equitable in its division.
    No share exceeds another in its annual
    revenue, yet one portion is obviously
    prized above the others. The center
    share.
         (pointing with his
         riding crop)
    Prized for its entrancing natural
    beauty. Prized as the site of this
    citadel, center of all planting interest
    from Rangoon to Bangkok.

CORNWALL is intrigued.

               LEAR
    You have not been called here to witness
    a show of favoritism.
               (beat)
    Though, it is my hope that mine will
    be remembered as a significant life.
    A life lived in the approving presence
    of God. Perhaps a small beacon of
    civilization for the sullen,
    unbelieving, often ungrateful people
    of this land. No. The winner of this
    house and what it represents shall be
    the one who appreciates it most. And
    for the sake of future comity between
    you, that appreciation shall be
    expressed plainly, before all, now.
    Goneril, our eldest born. Speak first
    to our simple question.

                                                                                                                                                          24


               LEAR
    Has the life of your father been a
    significant one?

               GONERIL
               (standing)
    Sir. Significant is a mere word. A
    word poor, indeed unable to weigh the
    measure of your contribution to this
    land. -To these people. Their health,
    their liberty, their very lives are
    yours. Certainly such a thing is beyond
    what can be valued, rich or rare. As
    much respect as child ever had, or
    father found, I have for you.

Cordelia is confounded.

France is watching her. He feels as always in her presence, helpless.

               FRANCE (V.O.)
    Surely her love needs no such facade
    as this.

Lear is flattered.

               LEAR
    Yes, Goneril. Well spoken. What says
    our second daughter? Our dear, new
    found Regan. Speak.

               REGAN
    I am of the same blood, the same set
    of mind as my sister, so prize me at
    her worth. In my true heart I find
    she names my very deed of admiration.

Lear is pleased.

               REGAN
    Only she comes short. I will profess
    to no other model in the shaping of my
    life. My own sense of worth, my very
    sense of dignity can only be measured
    against the pinnacle. The life of my
    father.

France is watching Cordelia.

               FRANCE (V.O.)
    No. A liar she is not.

               LEAR
              (pleased)
    Ah.... Now. Of my three daughters, we
    come to the last. Our most reserved.
    Yet our most considerate joy. Speak
    now child. What can you say for this
    house?

                                                                                                                                          25

               CORDELIA
               (beat)
    Nothing, my Lord.

               LEAR
    Nothing?

               CORDELIA
    Nothing.

               LEAR
    (disbelief)
    Nothing will come of nothing. Speak
    again.

               CORDELIA
    Sorry as I am, I cannot heave my heart
    into my mouth. I love my father as a
    daughter should. According to the
    covenant of family. No more and no
    less.

               LEAR
    How, now Cordelia? This is my life!
    Your future.

               CORDELIA
    My Lord. You have raised me, loved
    me, intended the best for me. With
    respect I return these favors, gladly,
    as is fitting. My sisters have
    husbands. Yet upon hearing them now,
    how much of their hearts could be left
    for them? Hopefully when I wed, that
    gentleman whose hand takes mine shall
    carry half my love and admiration with
    him, half my duty and respect. Surely
    I shall never marry like my sisters,
    to love my father all.

               LEAR
            (astonished)
    I, I think you speak from the heart....
    Endeavor as I have, you've not let
    Christian charity into it.

               CORDELIA
    In truth my Lord. As with this country,
    perhaps the more we believe we affect
    change, the more things really stay
    the same.

               LEAR
    So young. So untender.

               CORDELIA
    So young my Lord, and true!

                                                                                                                                                                  26

               LEAR
            (shocked, then deflated)
    Then let it be so.
            (standing, teetering)
    And your truth shall be your dowry.
    For in the name of our Lord and the
    resurrection of His Son, by whose grace
    the stars move through the heavens and
    we do exist and cease to be, to you I
    disclaim all relation! Be it by blood
    or property. As a stranger to my heart
    I hold you, now and forever more!

The gathering is stunned.

               LEAR
            (growing irrational)
    A bush dwelling savage, the sort to
    gorge his appetite on the slaughter of
    his own kind, shall be as well
    neighbored, pitied and relieved by me
    as you, my one time daughter.

               GLOUCESTER
               (standing)
    Good my Lord-

               LEAR
    Peace, Gloucester! Do not step into
    the fire. Yes I'll say it: I loved
    her most. I thought to set my rest on
    her kind nursery....
            (looks at Cordelia)
    Oh, avoid my sight!
            (dropping into his
            seat)
    My grave shall be my peace, now her
    father's heart is taken from her....

A moment, then he rallies.

               LEAR
    Albany. Cornwall. Take heed. Goneril,
    by simple and ancient virtue of
    seniority has this house. Regan the
    northern third, with its more than
    ample compound. The southernmost third
    shall be put to a survey forthwith,
    and divided between you.

Cordelia is crushed.

               LEAR
    Let pride, which she calls truth,
    sustain her.

Cornwall and Albany are stunned.

                                                                                                                                           27

               LEAR
    Upon your two houses I hereby jointly
    invest my authority, responsibility
    and such large effects that accompany
    my position. Myself, with a troop of
    thirty rifles, shall be sustained by
    you in due turns, on a monthly course.
    I shall retain my title of Brigadier
    and the respect due to it. The
    authority, the revenue, the de facto
    execution of civil law is yours.
    Beloved sons. Titles immediately
    revised shall confirm it.

               GLOUCESTER
            (approaching the desk)
    Noble Lear, whom I have ever honored
    and loved as a father, as my master
    followed, as my patron thought on in
    my prayers-

               LEAR
    A bead is drawn the hammer cocked.
    Make from the blast.

               GLOUCESTER
               (beat)
    Pull the trigger then. Let the bullet
    pierce my heart. So Gloucester's rude
    when Lear's gone mad. What would you
    have old man? Reason cowed, when once
    dignified authority bows to mere
    flattery?
            (gestures to Regan
                                    and Goneril)
    Honor is bound to plain language when
    nobility stoops to folly. Reserve
    your state, and in better consideration
    check this rashness. I stake my life
    on it, your youngest does not love you
    least. Her words though modest, do
    not ring hollow.

               LEAR
    Gloucester, on our two long lives
    together, no more!

               GLOUCESTER
    My life, I never held but as cannon
    fodder in the battles against your
    enemies. Nor do I fear to trade it
    now, your future being at stake.

Snide expressions from Regan and Goneril.

               LEAR
    Out of my sight!

                                                                                                                                                                28

               GLOUCESTER
    See better Lord Lear, let me remain
    the apple of your eye.

               LEAR
               (standing)
    Now by God-

               GLOUCESTER
    Now by God sir. You take the Lord's
    name in vain.

               LEAR
            (raising his riding
            crop to strike)
    Miscreant!

               ALBANY
            (stepping forward)
    Dear Sir, forbear!

               GLOUCESTER
    Kill the physician, and his fee bestow
    upon the foul decease. Revoke this
    will, or while I can breathe I'll tell
    you you do evil!

               LEAR
    Hear me recreant! In your perjury you
    will hear me.... You have sought to
    break a bond forged over many long
    years. And in your vanity, you have
    stepped between my judgment and my God
    given familial right. This I will not
    bear. The privilege you have heretofore
    enjoyed of sharing my table, my home,
    my camaraderie, now stand revoked.
    This is forevermore. Now out of my
    sight!

               GLOUCESTER
                (beat)
    So then....
               (to Cordelia)
    To his dear shelter may the Lord guide
    you girl. Your thoughts are just, and
    most rightly spoken.
               (to Regan and Goneril)
    And your large speeches may your deeds
    confirm, as good effects should spring
    from words of love.
               (to Lear, gravely)
    I wish you well sir.

Exit Gloucester.

An awkward silence.

               LEAR
    We have unfinished business yet.

                                                                                                                                                              29

               LEAR
    For you France, I am truly sorry. In
    so profound a matter as marriage I
    would not stray so far as to match you
    with one I loathe. Therefore I advise
    you to avert your eye a more worthy
    way. Away from a wretch God would no
    doubt be ashamed to acknowledge his.

               FRANCE
               (sternly)
    Forever I shall regret having witnessed
    this scene. How could she, who but
    moments ago was the object of your
    affection, balm of your age, your
    dearest- How could she in a mere moment
    strip back so many folds of love? Is
    she such a monster? Or perhaps, it is
    your claim of previously sworn affection
    that is tainted.

               LEAR
    France, here and now there is but one
    point for you to consider. There she
    stands-

Cordelia, small and alone.

               LEAR
    Her price fallen, my curse her dowry.
    Do you take her or leave her?

Cordelia steps forward.

               CORDELIA
               (tears)
    I yet beg of you my Lord. Father- I
    implore you to at least make public
    note that it is no foul murder, no
    indecent action or dishonored step
    that has deprived me of your grace and
    favor.
           (to Goneril and Regan)
    It is the lack of a covetous eye and
    an unctuous tongue. Wants for which I
    am richer.

               LEAR
    Better you had not been born than not
    to have pleased me better.

               FRANCE
    It is only this. A natural reticence
    will often leave virtuous intention
    unannounced.
            (stepping closer)
    She is herself a dowry.
               (down to his knee)
    Beautiful Lady.

                                                                                                                                             30

               FRANCE
    You are most rich being poor, and most
    loved being despised. If you could be
    willing, I would take up what is so
    foolishly cast away. What here now is
    lost, together we can find again, no,
    find better, in Saigon.

Cordelia looks at her father in a moment of hopelessness. He won't
meet her eye. She nods her assent.

               FRANCE
            (a blissful press of
            the back of her hand
            to his cheek, then
            quietly)
    Though unkind, let us be gracious.
    Let us bid him farewell.

               LEAR
            (standing)
    France she is yours. I have no such
    daughter, nor shall I see that face of
    hers again. Therefore be on your way,
    without my property, without my
    blessing, without my love. Min! Pack
    it up.

They exit behind the dais. The men begin to exit to the courtyard.

               FRANCE
    Bid farewell to your sisters.

               CORDELIA
            (wiping her eyes)
    Our father's jewels. With cleansed
    vision I see you, with faults no good
    sister would name. Comfort him well;
    without his grace I have no choice but
    to commit him to you.

               REGAN
    You needn't instruct us on the meaning
    of duty.

               GONERIL
    Make it your study to please your future
    husband, who takes you on charity.
    You denied our father, and he has
    returned the favor.

               FRANCE
    Come, let's away from here.

Exit France and Cordelia.

               REGAN
    Our father's will can be considered in
    immediate effect.

                                                                                                                                                                 31

               GONERIL
    Indeed it is. And he will expect you
    to accommodate him at the northern
    compound if not tomorrow, certainly
    within the month.

               REGAN
    You warned me of the change his age
    has brought. But to cast off our young
    sister, whom he loved most. A fragile
    state of mind.

              GONERIL
    He'll not cease to press his will. We
    must contain him.

               REGAN
    We must. We shall act. My husband and
    I shall set out for the northern
    compound tomorrow. From there we'll
    send word. And sister, due to the
    inconstant state of his mind, of the
    future we can tell him no more.

                                                                                                             FADE OUT

FADE IN

EXT. GLOUCESTER'S PLANTATION - TWO MORNINGS LATER

The tea planted hills are shrouded in fog. The plants are tended
from footpaths that spiral down from each summit. The footpaths are
bisected by an up down wagon track. From Gloucester's pilothouse you
can see straight down one of these tracks, to the main north south
road below.

INT. PILOTHOUSE

Gloucester is standing in the center of a coffeehouse din. Three
waiters in aprons and white paper hats clatter teacups, strainers and
sample trays, preparing for a tasting. With a countertop that wraps
all the way around, quarters are close. Boiling water is poured.
The windowpanes start to fog.

Gloucester is oblivious. He's focusing his binoculars down the wagon
track. He blinks, pauses to wipe the panes, then looks again. Through
his lenses we see that there are young women with baskets on their
hips working the tea plants. They float through the low lying mist,
clad in longyi wraps and gossamer blouses. Their hair is like thick
black sable reaching down below the conical hats on their backs. A
solution of ground tree bark has been carefully painted on their faces,
in fantastic, decorative patterns.

For once Gloucester doesn't linger with this view. He focuses all
the way down to the road.

               GLOUCESTER
            (under his breath)
    There is something down there.

                                                                                                                                                         32

Still through his lenses we see a wall of mist. Then there is a bit
of clearing, with the shell paving of the road becoming visible.
A wild boar bursts through the mist. It is sprinting for its life.

EXT. ROAD

Next through the cloud comes Lear. He's mounted, an invigorated,
fantastic figure galloping through the mist. He doesn't carry a rifle.
For this pursuit he's chosen a long, glistening pike. The paving
shells are flying everywhere, under the hooves of a dozen of Lear's
militia. In an instant they vanish, into another cloud.

INT. PILOTHOUSE

               GLOUCESTER
               (low)
    The hunt!
               (beat)
    Dear Cordelia.
               (putting down the
               glasses)
    Two days into this new world of ours…
    I care little for it.

EXT. GLOUCESTER'S HOUSE - MORNING

Edmund approaches the rear of the house on his horse. He sees
Gloucester up in the pilothouse, gazing forlornly down the road. He
halts.

               EDMUND
    Our father's love is to his bastard,
    as much as it is to our legitimate
    Edgar. Fine word, "legitimate."

He pulls a letter from his shirt.

               EDMUND
    Well my legitimate, if this letter
    speed, if my invention thrive, Edmund
    the base shall top the legitimate!

He gallops around to the front of the house and into Gloucester's
view. He studies the letter intently for a long moment, then tucks
it away. He dismounts, ties his horse and enters the house.

INT. PILOTHOUSE

Enter Edmund.

               GLOUCESTER
    Edmund! What now? What news?

               EDMUND
    So please your lordship, none.

               GLOUCESTER
    You've not heard from your brother?
    Not seen him these three days?

                                                                                                                                                             33

               GLOUCESTER
    What have you tucked in your shirt?

               EDMUND
    I know no news my lord.

               GLOUCESTER
    What paper were you reading just now?

               EDMUND
    Nothing my lord.

Gloucester steps forward, Edmund steps back.

               GLOUCESTER
    No? Then why conceal it, there in
    your pocket?
               (snatches it)

               EDMUND
    For my brother's sake. I pray he wrote
    this only as a test of my virtue.

               GLOUCESTER
               (reading)
    "This policy of reverence for old age
    makes bitter the best days of our lives.
    Our fortunes are held from us until we
    are too old to relish them. Brother,
    I have begun to feel trapped under
    this aged tyranny. It is made all the
    more oppressive because it is due to
    our own allowance, rather than any
    real strength our father possesses.
    We should speak more of this. Indeed
    I would propose to you: if our father
    was to sleep till I waked him, you
    would enjoy half his revenue, forever.
    This, as well as the everlasting love
    of your brother, Edgar."
               (beat)
    What? Conspiracy? "Sleep till I waked
    him, you would enjoy half his revenue."
    My son Edgar! He had the hand to write
    this? The heart and mind to breed it
    in? Where did you get it?

               EDMUND
    I found it thrown into the window of
    my room.

               GLOUCESTER
    You know the handwriting to be your
    brother's?

               EDMUND
    If the intent were good my lord, I'd
    swear it were his; yet in respect to
    this, I'd prefer to think it not.

                                                                                                                                                               34

               GLOUCESTER
    It is his. Has he never before sounded
    you out in this business?

               EDMUND
    Never, my lord. But I've often heard
    him maintain that if a son is of a
    mature age and the father declined,
    the father should be as ward to the
    son, and the son manage his business.

              GLOUCESTER
    What? The villain! His very opinion
    in the letter! Ungrateful, brutish
    villain. Oh, worse than brutish! Go
    my boy. Seek him. I'll apprehend
    him. Heartless, evildoer! Where is
    he?

               EDMUND
    I do not well know sir. But
    respectfully, I would suggest you
    reserve your indignation, at least
    until we can make certain of his intent.
    I would stake my life on the proposition
    that this is a test of my honor for
    you my lord, and no actual threat.

               GLOUCESTER
    You think so?

               EDMUND
    If you would consider it sir, I could
    place you where you might overhear my
    brother and I confer on this matter.
    You would gain the satisfaction of the
    truth according to your own ears, and
    wait no further for it than this very
    evening.

               GLOUCESTER
    He cannot be such a monster.

               EDMUND
    God willing, we will find that he is
    not.

               GLOUCESTER
               (looking at the letter,
               his voice breaking)
    To his father, that so tenderly and
    entirely loves him.... Heaven and earth!
    Edmund, seek him out; gain his
    confidence; manage this business with
    the wisdom I know you possess.

               EDMUND
    I will find him father.

                                                                                                                                                                    35

               EDMUND
    I shall discreetly arrange this meeting,
    and acquaint you with the time and the
    place.

               GLOUCESTER
               (beat)
    Unlike Lear, I've never really been a
    man of faith. But it must be the hand
    of God I see in this.

Edmund bows his head in agreement.

               EDMUND
    It is God's will. We just cannot reason
    it now.

               GLOUCESTER
               (not hearing)
    The very bonds of family have taken
    flight. My son has set against his
    father. Lear's recent breakdown has
    set father against child.
               (exhausted)
    We have seen the best of our time.
    Machinations, lies, treachery. All of
    society's ills follow us disquietly to
    our graves. Find out this villain
    Edmund, it shall lose you nothing.
               (prepares to descend
               stairs)
    Banished. Myself and our dear Cordelia.
    The offence honesty. Strange days.

Exit Gloucester.

               EDMUND
    Excellent foppery.

                                                                                                                                                           36

               EDMUND
    We suffer some reversal of fortune,
    often at our own hand, then declare
    divine intervention. Shite! This
    hand of God, which deals the liar, the
    thief, the adulterer his comeuppance.
    Fut! There is no God, my father. The
    hand that punishes you is my own.

EXT. COURTYARD, LEAR'S CITADEL - LATER

The hunting party gallops into the compound led by a much satisfied
Lear. The gutted pig is on a rail. One militiaman clatters down a
walkway on his horse, frightening a housemaid. Min emerges onto the
walk in front of Lear's quarters. He helps him dismount.

               LEAR
    See the spit fired and send for a bath.
              (relishing his leisure)
    I shall have a nap before supper.

INT. LEAR'S CHAMBER - LATER

Lear is seated upon a raised pallet after his bath, putting on a fresh
shirt. A punkah fan is in motion above him. An earthenware pitcher,
bowl and towel are on the nightstand. Min starts to transfer these
items to a sideboard closer to the door.

               LEAR
    Min, keep the peace. And don't wake
    me until dinner.

He lays down.

               MIN
    You sleep Uncle. The sleep of the
    Just.

Lear picks up his riding crop from beside the bed and tips it at him.

               LEAR
    The whip, boy. The whip.

He tucks it under his arm and closes his eyes. Min lights a cigarette
and begins closing the window blinds. At the last one by the door he
peers out. Oswald is coming down the walk, pushing a service cart.
Min steps out onto the walk.

EXT. COVERED WALKWAY - AFTERNOON

               OSWALD
    The laundry, dearest.

               MIN
    The old man sleeps. You come back.

               OSWALD
    The wash kettle is hot and my lady
    will have her bath service back. Now,
    my love.

                                                                                                                                                       37

He backs into Min, easily moving him with his buttocks.

               OSWALD
               (in song)
    I shall not make a sound.

He pulls his cart into the room. Min flips his butt into the yard
and follows, pissed.

INT. LEAR'S CHAMBER

               MIN
              (whispering)
    Wake him bugger, you regret it.

Oswald starts gingerly loading the sideboard items onto his cart.
Min steps between Lear and the intruder, checking to see that his
master is still asleep. He appears to be. Min returns his attention
to Oswald, glowering at him.

Oswald puckers and blows him a kiss. He spots the pitcher on the
nightstand. He makes a show of tiptoeing over to it, then takes hold
of the handle. Instead of picking it up, he turns to Min and delivers
a lewd, half tongued gesture with his mouth.

Min is disgusted.

A loud CRACK. It's cane against flesh. The pitcher shatters on the
floor. Oswald is shrieking and holding his ear, then bounding out
the door.

               LEAR
    Our daughter's man. Disclaimed by the
    Lord, surely.

He lays his riding crop on the nightstand, turns over and settles
into sleep.

INT. DINING HALL - LATER

Oswald is seated at a table, holding a cold cloth to his head. Goneril
stands behind him. Through the windows behind we see the open air
kitchen, the pig on the spit. Lear's tribesmen are drinking and
celebrating.

               GONERIL
    My father struck my gentleman for
    chiding his fool?

               OSWALD
    Yes, memsahib.

               GONERIL
    Well then. Just two days it has taken
    to confirm my sister's warning. We
    suffer his temper day and night and
    now he has willfully set us all at
    odds.

Stepping to the window.

                                                                                                                                             38

               GONERIL
    His militia revert to the wild. He
    himself reverts to childhood. Well, I
    will not speak with him. When he
    arrives for dinner say that I am sick.
               (beat)
    In fact, come short of your former
    service to him and you shall do well.

               OSWALD
    I will, memsahib.

               GONERIL
    See that the rest of the staff follows
    your lead.
              (quieter)
    My sister would agree. This is the
    time to press the matter. If he
    dislikes it he can go to her, and see
    how well he fares.
              (returns to table)
    Old fools have become babes again.
    And they must not only be soothed, but
    restrained. Remember what I have said.

               OSWALD
    Well, memsahib.

INT. TELEGRAPH ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

The receiver is clicking as Oswald takes down the code. He translates,
then hands the message to Goneril.

ON PRINTED MESSAGE

Dear sister well done. Dismiss lower ranks. Purchase their weapons
and repatriate to tribes. Regan

INT. DINING HALL - LATE AFTERNOON

Kitchen maids are clearing up after the feast. Lear is seated at the
head table, alone with a cup of ale. He looks perplexed. A maid
enters with a visitor.

               MAID
               (nervously)
    Kulbir Thapa.

KULBIR THAPA is a Nepalese man near Lear's age, dignified, in British
khaki with a field cap. Lear lights up.

                      &