MOBY+DICK+Feminism+Script

Starring: Ishmael: Anne Queequeg: Arlene Landlord/Peter Coffin: Sara Narrator: Sara

=__Act I__= =__Scene I__=


 * ISHMAEL**: Call me Ishmael. Some years ago-never mind how long precisely-having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. I stuffed a shirt or two into my old carpet-bag, tucked it under my arm, and started for Cape Horn and Pacific.

__Scene II__
//[As ISHMAEL enters the office]//


 * NARRATOR**: As ISHMAEL entered the Spouter Inn, he found himself in a wide low straggling entry with old-fashioned wainscots.


 * ISHMAEL**: Good evening landlord, I desire to be accommodated with a room.


 * LANDLORD/PETER COFFIN**: I apologize, but the house is full-not a bed unoccupied, but avast, you haint no objections to sharing a harpooner’s blanket, have ye? I s’pose you are goin’ a whalin’, so you’d better get used to that sort of thing.


 * ISMHAEL**: I never liked to sleep two in a bed; that if I should ever do so, it would depend upon who the harpooner might be, and that if he (the landlord) really had no other place for me.


 * LANDLORD/PETER COFFIN**: I thought so.


 * ISHMAEL**: I tried the bench, but it didn’t seem to accommodate me. So I decided to try the harpooner’s bed.

__Scene III__

 * NARRATOR**: ISHMAEL rolls around in the bed, and then after a while settles into a light nap. He hears heavy footsteps and sees a glimmer of light on the door. He lays still and doesn’t say a word. Then the next thing he knows a wild cannibal, tomahawk between his teeth sprang into bed with him.


 * ISHMEAL**: gasp!


 * QUEEQUEG**: Who-e debel you? You no speak-e, dam-me, I kill-e.


 * ISHMAEL**: Landlord! [Looks around room frantically] for God’s sake, Peter Coffin! Landlord! Angels! Save me!


 * LANDLORD/PETER COFFIN**: Don’t be afraid now. Queequeg here wouldn’t harm a hair of your head.


 * ISHMAEL**: Landlord, please tell him to stash his tomahawk and to stop smoking.

//[QUEEQUEG complied at once, QUEEQUEG mentions politely for ISHMAEL to get into bed]//


 * ISHMAEL**: Good night landlord, you may go.


 * __ACT II__**


 * __Scene I__**


 * ISHMAEL**: Upon waking the next morning about daylight, I found Queequeg’s arm thrown over me in the most loving and affectionate manner. It was only by the sense of weight and pressure that I could tell that Queequeg was hugging me.


 * __Scene II__**

Next night…


 * ISHMAEL**: We had lain thus in bed, chatting and napping short interval’s, and Queequeg now and then affectionately throwing his brown tattooed legs over mine.


 * __Scene III__**


 * ISHMAEL**: Squeeze! Squeeze! Squeeze! All the morning long; I squeezed that sperm till I myself almost melted into it; I squeezed that sperm till a strange sort of insanity came over me; and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my co-laborers’ hands in it. Such an abounding, affectionate, friendly, loving feeling did this avocation beget; that at last I was continually squeezing their hands, and looking up into their eyes sentimentally; as much as to say, -oh! My dear fellow beings, why should we longer cherish any social acerbities, or know the slightest ill-humor or envy! Come; let us squeeze hands all round; nay, let us all squeeze ourselves into each other; let us squeeze ourselves universally into the very milk and sperm of kindness.


 * __ACT III__**


 * __Scene I__**


 * NARRATOR**: After the eventful chase for Moby Dick, all of the crew were dead except for ISHMAEL, who drifted along on QUEEQUEG’s coffin for two days.


 * ISHMAEL**: on the second day, a sail drew near, nearer, and picked me up at last. It was the devious-cruising Rachel, that in her retracing search after her missing children, only found another orphan.

The End