Force of Evil. Graig Du Theatre Players.

Another psychological supernatural drama that is under consideration is "Force of Evil". In a sleepy village in Sussex, the Reverend James Barclay discovers an ancient remembrance is about to reassert itself. Stephen, his son, is missing in action as the Second World War reaches its defining stages. Barclay is dumbfounded when Prentiss appears in Hallow Glen where he is fishing. Barclay questions all he holds dear and discovers the truth of belief and death. Amelia, a child sheltering with her family, was hiding in the forest during the English Civil War. The family belonged to a group called the Lollards, a group that were deemed heretical, Amelia is the girl Prentiss condemns to death. Barclay, distraught, is determined to find peace for Amelia even if it means his eventual death. . .

I have included part of the opening scene:

Barclay:  You may as well show yourself, stranger. (His line hits the imaginary pool of water as the lights dim in the background). You have nothing to fear, my friend. I saw you watching me from the bushes just now. I have cheese sandwiches that my wife made and a bottle of elderberry wine that will keep the cold out. You must have perished over the past few nights with the weather being as cold as it has been. As I said, you having nothing to fear.

Stage left, Prentiss enters, spitting. He is a huge man, dwarfing Barclay who stares at him as he approaches.

Barclay:   Come closer, friend. There is enough room for you to sit next to me. I will not pry into why you have been sleeping here. The breeze is freshening.

Prentiss:   There is much to be said for the breath of God's whisper that is invisible, yet can be touched.This land is sublime. I thank you for your generosity,sir. I will sit next to you.

Prentiss sits next to Barclay, who gives him a wary glance.

Barclay:  I do not believe that I have seen you before. You look malnourished. I know most of the disllusioned that pass through my village. I never call any man a vagrant or a tramp. People are not responsible for their circumstances during these terrible times.

Prentiss:   You appear a compassionate gentleman. I appreciate your generosity to a stranger. Your countenance is weary and you appear burdened. Perhaps the fishing tires you, or you are aware of the great change that is about to take place.

Barclay:   Old age does not come by itself. I must not grumble because there are worse off that I in these straightened times. You made a most relevant point about change. We are beginning to achieve our aims in Europe.

Prentiss eats a sandwich.

Prentiss:   The bread is wholesome. I am obliged, sir. I have not drunk water for many days. To partake of this repast before we set ourselves against the tasks of the day and spread the word of Christ suffices. You are unlike the other preacher I saw fishing here. He was intemperate and shallow. Human nature is what he failed to comprehend, It is the failing of man. He believed he understood the whispers that came from the shadows.

Barclay:   You must mean my predecessor of many years ago. I have lived in the village of Calverton all of my life. Tell me, why have I not seen you at the church hall when there is food offered for the needy? Your silence tells me you are a proud man. 

Prentiss:   I never go begging for alms. Altered is the view that I remember. I really liked the birch trees that lined the banking where the old bridge is. There used to be large stepping stones just below the steps. The picture of them stays with me.

Barclay:   Come to think of it, I seem to recall a photograph of the description you mentioned which I saw years ago before the removal of the stones for the water to be diverted into the wells of the village.

Prentiss:    It is of little consquence. My eye never deceives me. What day is this?

Barclay:   It is the twenty-fourth of the month.

Prentiss:   I believed it to be Holy Innocents' Day. The seasons have become confused.

Barclay:    I have not heard that festival mentioned in years.

Prentiss:   Whom do you serve? These days are not for traitors. I try to be above such petty indiscretions. We worshipped because of who we were. That is how it should be. The misery we suffer dies with us and Christ will be the King. Are you a fifth monarchy man, preacher?

Barclay:   That is such an archaic phrase. We each worship to our own. Bound we be by our faith as we are to our creed that enlightens us at every service. Freedoms we cherish now will mean a lot when this war ends.

 

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