Spades or Hearts?

 Spades or Hearts?

A Play in One Act

Adapted from The Queen of Spades (Alexander Pushkin)

by Willow Skidmore

Setting: 1833 Russian, for costumes only, which should be as accurate as possible. No set, blank white stage. Can be minimal props at director’s discretion, but should be little to none. Same with lighting. Preferably most, if not all of, setting, props, etc. left to audience imagination. If possible, a stepped stage is preferable, as is the thrust style. Stepped is more important than Thrust.

With regards to the book for the countess, if a suitable book can be found from the right era, then it may be read. Otherwise follow directions as to pantomime.

During all asides, unless otherwise directed, any who are on stage should freeze in place.

Cast:

Narumoff

Tomski

Countess

Liseveta

Hermann

Tchekalinzki (always is smiling)

Chorus (If not mentioned in cast list, the chorus plays all characters. The numbers to officers and other chorus members are there for the sake of demonstrating switching off. Just don’t use the same one again.)

Act I, Scene 1

OFFICERS, NARUMOFF, and HERMANN hang around, some standing, some sitting, talking, laughing, an after-dinner conversation.  The others are attracted to NARUMOFF as the natural leader.

NARUMOFF: How did you get on this evening, Surin?

OFFICER 1: Oh, I lost, as usual. I really have no luck. I play mirandole. You know that I keep cool. Nothing moves me; I never change my play, and yet I always lose.

NARUMOFF: Do you mean to say that all the evening you did not once back the red? Your firmness of character surprises me.

OFFICER 2 (lazily gesturing in HERMANN’s direction): What do you think of Hermann? That fellow never made a bet or touched a card in his life, and yet he watches us play until 5 in the morning.

HERMANN: It interests me, but I am not disposed to risk the necessary in view of the superfluous.

TOMSKI: Hermann is a German, and economical; that is the whole of the secret. But what is really astonishing is the Countess Anna Fedotovna!

UNNAMED OFFICERS: How so?

TOMSKI: Have you not remarked that she never plays?

NARUMOFF: Yes, a woman of 80, who never touches a card; that is indeed something extraordinary!

OFFICER 3: You do not know why?

NARUMOFF: No; is there a reason for it?

TOMSKI: Just listen. My grandmother, you know, some sixty years ago, went to Paris, and became the rage there. People ran after her in the streets, and called her the 'Muscovite Venus.' Richelieu made love to her, and my grandmother makes out that, by her rigorous demeanour, she almost drove him to suicide. In those days women used to play at faro. One evening at the court she lost, on parole, to the Duke of Orleans, a very considerable sum. When she got home, my grandmother removed her beauty spots, took off her hoops, and in this tragic costume went to my grandfather, told him of her misfortune, and asked him for the money she had to pay. My grandfather, now no more, was, so to say, his wife's steward. He feared her like fire; but the sum she named made him leap into the air. He flew into a rage, made a brief calculation, and proved to my grandmother that in six months she had got through half a million rubles. He told her plainly that he had no villages to sell in Paris, his domains being situated in the neighbourhood of Moscow and of Saratoff; and finally refused point blank. You may imagine the fury of my grandmother. She boxed his ears, and passed the night in another room. The next day she returned to the charge. For the first time in her life, she condescended to arguments and explanations. In vain did she try to prove to her husband that there were debts and debts, and that she could not treat a prince of the blood like her coachmaker. All this eloquence was lost. My grandfather was inflexible. My grandmother did not know where to turn. Happily she was acquainted with a man who was very celebrated at this time. You have heard of the Count of St. Germain, about whom so many marvellous stories were told. You know that he passed for a sort of Wandering Jew, and that he was said to possess an elixir of life and the philosopher's stone.Some people laughed at him as a charlatan. Casanova, in his memoirs, says that he was a spy. However that may be, in spite of the mystery of his life, St. Germain was much sought after in good society, and was really an agreeable man. Even to this day my grandmother has preserved a genuine affection for him, and she becomes quite angry when anyone speaks of him with disrespect. It occurred to her that he might be able to advance the sum of which she was in need, and she wrote a note begging him to call. The old magician came at once, and found her plunged in the deepest despair. In two or three words she told him everything; related to him her misfortune and the cruelty of her husband, adding that she had no hope except in his friendship and his obliging disposition. Madam,' said St. Germain, after a few moments' reflection, 'I could easily advance you the money you want, but I am sure that you would have no rest until you had repaid me, and I do not want to get you out of one trouble in order to place you in another. There is another way of settling the matter. You must regain the money you have lost.' But, my dear friend,' answered my grandmother, 'I have already told you that I have nothing left.' 'That does not matter,' answered St. Germain. 'Listen to me, and I will explain.' He then communicated to her a secret which any of you would, I am sure, give a good deal to possess. (ALL listen attentively. TOMSKI takes a swallow of smoke before continuing.) That very evening my grandmother went to Versailles to play at the Queen's table. The Duke of Orleans held the bank. My grandmother invented a little story by way of excuse for not having paid her debt, and then sat down at the table, and began to stake. She took three cards. She won with the first; doubled her stake on the second, and won again; doubled on the third, and still won.

OFFICER 4: Mere luck!

HERMANN: What a tale!

OFFICER 1: Were the cards marked? 

TOMSKI (gravely, shakes his head): I don’t think so.

NARUMOFF (excited): And you mean to say, that you have a grandmother who knows the names of three winning cards, and you have never made her tell them to you?

TOMSKI: That is the very deuce of it! She had three sons, of whom my father was one; all three were determined gamblers, and not one of them was able to extract her secret from her, though it would have been of immense advantage to them, and to me also. Listen to what my uncle told me about it, Count Ivan Ilitch, and he told me on his word of honour. Tchaplitzki—the one you remember who died in poverty after devouring millions—lost one day, when he was a young man, to Zoritch about three hundred thousand roubles. He was in despair. My grandmother, who had no mercy for the extravagance of young men, made an exception—I do not know why—in favour of Tchaplitzki. She gave him three cards, telling him to play them one after the other, and exacting from him at the same time his word of honour that he would never afterwards touch a card as long as he lived. Accordingly Tchaplitzki went to Zoritch and asked for his revenge. On the first card he staked fifty thousand rubles. He won, doubled the stake, and won again. Continuing his system he ended by gaining more than he had lost. But it is six o'clock! It is really time to go to bed. (ALL exit except HERMANN, who comes C.S. SPOTLIGHT on him, the rest of the stage dark)

HERMANN: I am a prudent man. Never gamble, especially what I don’t have. I do, however, acknowledge some excitement at watching the cards change hands in gambling. So I stay, night after night, and feel feverish as I watch. If, if she would only tell me her secret—if she would only name the three winning cards! I must get presented to her, that I may pay my court and gain her confidence. Yes! And she is eighty-seven! She may die this week—to-morrow perhaps. But after all, is there a word of truth in the story? No! Economy, Temperance, Work; these are my three winning cards. With them I can double my capital; increase it tenfold. They alone can ensure my independence and prosperity. (Exit)

SPOTLIGHT down

END SCENE

Act I, Scene 2

The COUNTESS sits, surrounded by MAIDS.  LISAVETA sits nearby, embroidering. TOMSKI enters R, goes to COUNTESS, and bows.

TOMSKI: Good morning, grandmother, (nods to LISAVETA) Good morning, Mademoiselle Lise. Grandmother, I have come to ask you a favour.

COUNTESS: What is it, Paul?

TOMSKI: I want to introduce to you one of my friends, and to ask you to give him an invitation to your ball.

COUNTESS: Bring him to the ball and introduce him to me there. Did you go yesterday to the Princess's?

TOMSKI: Certainly. It was delightful! We danced until five o'clock in the morning. Mademoiselle Eletzki was charming.

COUNTESS: My dear nephew, you are really not difficult to please. As to beauty, you should have seen her grandmother, the Princess Daria Petrovna. But she must be very old, the Princess Daria Petrovna!

TOMSKI (careless): How do you mean old? (LISAVETA looks at him in silent appeal, which he misses) she died seven years ago. (He starts, remembering, and bites his lip, looking penitently at LISAVETA.)

COUNTESS: Dead! and I never knew it! We were maids of honour in the same year, and when we were presented, the Empress said that we were as like as two peas, handsome as anything, and promised besides to introduce us to the young princes... but after all, nothing did come of that. Pity too, for in my youth, some said the one of us was handsomer, some the other, and we did so want their opinion to settle... (She sighs, lost in her own anecdote. Beat.) Paul, help me to get up. Lisaveta, where is my snuff-box? (LISAVETA sighs a little, and points off. COUNTESS exits, with MAIDS. LISAVETA shakes her head and goes back to what she was doing. TOMSKI looks at her.)

LISAVETA: Who is the gentleman you wish to introduce to Madame?

TOMSKI: Narumoff. Do you know him?

LISAVETA: No. Is he in the army?

TOMSKI: Yes.

LISAVETA: In the Engineers?

TOMSKI: No, in the Horse Guards. Why did you think he was in the Engineers? (LISAVETA smiles, a little nervous)

COUNTESS (off): Paul, send me a new novel; no matter what. Only see that it is not in the style of the present day.

TOMSKI: What style would you like, grandmother?

COUNTESS (off): A novel in which the hero strangles neither his father nor his mother, and in which no one gets drowned. Nothing frightens me so much as the idea of getting drowned.

TOMSKI: But how is it possible to find you such a book? Do you want it in Russian?

COUNTESS (off): Are there any novels in Russian? However, send me something or other. You won't forget?

TOMSKI: I will not forget, grandmother. I am in a great hurry. Good-bye, Lisaveta. What made you fancy Narumoff was in the Engineers? (TOMSKI exits without waiting for a response. LISAVETA puts down her embroidery for a sec, staring over the audience.)

COUNTESS (enters): Lisaveta, have the horses put in; we will go out for a drive. (LISAVETA stands and puts her embroidery carefully aside.) Well, my dear child, are you deaf? Go and tell them to put the horses in at once.

LISAVETA (exiting): I am going. (MAID enters with a book)

COUNTESS: Say I am much obliged to him. Lisaveta! Lisaveta! Where has she run off to?

LISAVETA: I was going to dress.

COUNTESS: We have plenty of time, my dear. Sit down, take the first volume, and read to me. (LISAVETA begins to read, pantomime) Louder, What is the matter with you? Have you a cold? Wait a moment; bring me that stool. A little closer; that will do. (LISAVETA reads a little more) Throw that stupid book away! What nonsense! Send it back to Prince Paul, and tell him I am much obliged to him; and the carriage, is it never coming?

LISAVETA (looking off): Here it is.

COUNTESS: And now you are not dressed. Why do you always keep me waiting? It is intolerable. (LISAVETA runs off. Almost immediately) Child! Sergeovitch! (in runs FOOTMAN) You do not seem to hear me when I ring! Go and tell Lisaveta that I am waiting for her. (LISAVETA enters, wearing a nice shawl and a bonnet) At last, miss! But what is that you have got on? and why? For whom are you dressing? What sort of weather is it? Quite stormy, I believe.

FOOTMAN: No, your Excellency, it is exceedingly fine.

COUNTESS: What do you know about it? Open the ventilator. Just what I told you! A frightful wind, and as icy as can be. Unharness the horses. Lisaveta, my child, we will not go out to-day. It was scarcely worth while to dress so much. (ALL exit but except LISAVETA. SPOTLIGHT on her)

LISAVETA: What an existence! I’m always seen, never noticed, at the capricious Countess’s beck and call, as you see. No one is interested in marrying me, for I am naught but a poor companion, the penniless ward of Anna Fedotovna, who is herself often scarcely noticed. I have a decent wage, I can’t say that I don’t, but it’s paid with such irregularity it might as well not be there. I am always to blame if the Countess doesn’t like something. I’m expected, indeed, to “dress like everyone else”... which is to say, almost no one. Like a relic of the age of the Countess’s youth! And then there is the matter of the officer of the Engineers. To tell you quite candidly, I was scared because I feared that the Prince would guess my secret from what I so thoughtlessly asked. For a week now, there has been a young officer of the Engineers watching me from the street every day. He is so handsome, and he has been prudent. Everytime our eyes meet, he blushes, and in his eyes... ah, such an expression! We have established a kind of connection without having spoken one word. I am certain that he... (she dips her eyes shyly for a second) well, that he likes me very much. Who wouldn’t be sensible to such attentions? And to betray all this to such a thoughtless man as Prince Paul Tomski Alexandrovitch! It is too cruel... And yet, maybe the young officer will come forward to me! Maybe he will approach me and, and... Ah, what am I saying. For Madame’s sake, I should not be married anyway. (She lowers her eyes and sighs, before exiting quietly and defeatedly, removing her shawl and bonnet as she does)

SPOTLIGHT down

SCENE END

Act I, Scene 3

COUNTESS and LISAVETA are sitting. The sound of horse hoofs can be heard. LISAVETA is fiddling with a piece of paper.

COUNTESS: What is the matter with you, my child? What are you thinking about? Or do you really not hear me? I speak distinctly enough, however, and I have not yet lost my head, have I? (LISAVETA seems not to hear her, her eyes fixed on the paper in her hand. The sound of horses stops. She instantly jumps up, while COUNTESS watches in astonishment. LISAVETA wanders off in some other direction, while COUNTESS is helped off by FOOTMAN. As soon as LISAVETA is alone, she opens the paper quickly.)

LISAVETA (reads):  “My dearest Unknown—Ever since the fatal or auspicious evening that I was introduced to your endearing presence, my heart has been riveted to the lovely image of her, who must become the arbitress of my future happiness or misery; that the latter will be the case, will not endure a moment’s reflection, for independent of my own feelings, it would be cruel to suppose that a bosom formed of virtues most sensitive and tender, could ever consign a heart touched with those very virtues to become the victim of aspiring delusion. No, my dear heart, you will never overwhelm me with such a fatal reply, and thus annihilate all those endearing prospects of future felicity, which I have so ardently cherished; as an alleviation, then, to those fond feelings, which are at present severely agitated by suspense, permit me, my dear girl, to address you as a friend hereafter, and dare I hope, someday more than? Anxiously expecting a favourable reply, I am, my darling, yours sincerely.” (beat) Why, he must be responded to, and expediently? Such a delicate, and yet, ardent letter... It would be too cruel to ignore. (Goes to D.S.C., stares over top of audience, and hesitantly speaks the following words.) I believe that your intentions are those of an honorable man, and that you would not wish to offend me by any thoughtless conduct. But you must understand that our acquaintance cannot begin this way. I return your letter, and trust that you will not give me cause to regret my imprudence. (Carefully. LISAVETA leaves the letters on the ground and exits. A moment later, HERMANN  enters)

HERMANN: Hah... She is intrigued and interested. I see absolutely nothing discouraging in this. She will be mine, and so opens the way to the winning cards. (He moves to D.S.L. Spot on him. LISAVETA reenters, to D.S.R. Spot on her.  Both stare out over the audience. Neither shall move until otherwise directed. HERMANN:) My Fair Unknown: I must request an audience with you. My burning ardour can be contained no longer, and so my heart begs that you will be merciful. Please, I will live no longer without seeing you face-to-face and learning the name that must sing more fair than any other name in my heart.

LISAVETTA: This cannot be for me. You cannot mean this for me. You made a mistake. It is impossible! Bring me no more messages and believe in your heart you ought to blush for your conduct.

HERMANN: Dear one, I can no more cease these protestations of love than I can cut off from my heart from the passion that courses through my veins as naturally as my own blood. (Beat.) May I have the honor of seeing you? Say yes or I will be killed in my grief and then so fair a one should become so fair a murderer, as is not right. (Beat.) My fairest, give me but some cause to hope. I will live on tears and love on a sigh, if only I can hope to at least gain your friendship, for I swear your frowns are more deadly than the most lethal of poisons.

LISAVETA (hesitant at first, then rushing faster and faster as if afraid to be interrupted or stopped): This evening there is a ball at the Embassy. The Countess will be there. We shall remain until 2 in the morning. You may manage to see me alone. As soon as the Countess leaves home, that is to say towards 11 o’clock, the servants are sure to go out, and there will be no one left but the porter, who will be sure to be asleep in his box. Enter as soon as it strikes eleven, and go upstairs as fast as possible. If you find anyone in the ante-chamber, ask whether the Countess is at home, and you will be told that she is out, and, in that case, you must resign yourself, and go away. In all probability, however, you will meet no one. The Countess’s women are together in a distant room. When you are once in the ante-chamber, turn to the left, and walk straight on, until you reach the Countess’s bedroom. There, behind a large screen, you will see two doors. The one on the right leads to a dark room. The one on the left leads to a corridor, at the end of which is a little winding staircase, which leads to my parlour. (She exits. HERMANN nods, pleased and resolute.)

HERMANN: And thus we shall see what may be. If I win the lady and the game, twice the winner will I be. I need not hide the cards after the one game. There is no reason why I cannot use them again and again, win fame and fortune for the rest of my days. The secret will die with me, my lady and I happy to the end.

HERMANN moves off to one side, looking surreptitious. MAIDS enter, guiding the COUNTESS.  She sits. LISAVETA passes across the stage, glances at the COUNTESS, and hurries off the opposite from the way she came on. As she does so, HERMANN watches her, looking a little bit guilty. Once she passes, he sets his face once more. He watches as MAIDS remove the outer layer of the COUNTESS’s dress and her headdress. Underneath is a nightgown and a nightcap. MAIDS leave. As soon as the stage is otherwise empty, HERMANN sneaks over to stand by the COUNTESS. She starts, looking frightened and alarmed, but a little vague.

HERMANN (quietly but clearly): Do not be alarmed, madam. For the love of Heaven, do not be alarmed. I do not wish you the slightest harm; on the contrary, I come to implore a favor of you. (Beat. She stares at him as if she does not understand. He leans in, as if she was deaf.) You can ensure the happiness of my whole life, and without its costing you a farthing. I know that you can name to me three cards--

COUNTESS (interrupting): It was a joke. I swear to you, it was only a joke.

HERMANN (angrily): No, Madam, remember Tchaplitzki, and how you enabled him to win. (COUNTESS is agitated. She won’t look at him) Cannot you name to me, three winning cards? (Beat.) Why keep this secret for your great-grandchildren, they are rich enough without; they do not know the value of money. Of what profit would your three cards be to them? They are debauchees. The man who cannot keep his inheritance will die in want, though he had the science of demons at his command. I am a steady man. I know the value of money. Your three cards will not be lost upon me. Come! (beat.  HERMANN kneels, trembling passionately.) If your heart has ever known the passion of love; If you can remember its sweet extasies; if you have ever been touched by the cry of a newborn babe; if any human feeling has ever caused your heart to beat, I entreat you by the love of a husband, a lover, a mother, by all that is sacred in life, not to reject my prayer. Tell me your secret! Reflect! You are old; you have not long to live! Remember that the happiness of a man is in your hands; that not only myself, by my children and grandchildren will bless your memory as a saint. (Beat. HERMANN angrily draws a pistol from his pocket, standing) Hag! I will make you speak! (COUNTESS shows agitation again. Reaches out, shaking, as if to put the pistol down. A shudder, then she suddenly falls back motionless.) Come, don’t be childish! I adjure you for the last time; will you name the three cards? (Beat. HERMANN puts the gun down slowly, realization dawning. Breathes out) ...Dead...

LIGHTS down

SCENE END

ACT I, Scene 4

LISAVETA is sitting, wearing a ballgown and a shawl.  HERMANN enters quickly, agitated.

LISAVETA (tremulous): Where were you?

HERMANN (strangely calm): in the Countess’s bedroom. I have just left her. She is dead.

LISAVETA: Great Heavens! What are you saying?

HERMANN: I am afraid that I am the cause of her death.

LISAVETA (looking at him with new eyes, afraid. Whispers): “He has at least three crimes on his conscience”...

HERMANN: What is that?

LISAVETA (quickly): Oh, nothing. Just remembering...

HERMANN (sits down): Tomski told me a story of three cards that the Countess used in her youth that always won. They seized my imagination, and I have been corresponding with you to get a chance to get closer to the Countess... and achieve you as will, if possible. (LISAVETA begins to cry softly) Tonight, I used your arrangements to try and get the secret from her, but she would not tell. I began to be frustrated and drew a gun, but I swear I didn’t use it. I begged her for a final time to give me the secret, but between her age and fright of my weapon, she died. And now the secret is lost forever. I shall never know it, never will I be able to win every time... (He slips into thought, sadly for what might have been. Long beat.)

LISAVETA: You are a monster!

HERMANN (coldly): I did not mean to kill her. My pistol was not loaded. (another long beat.)

LISAVETA: How am I to get you away? I thought you might go out by the back stairs. But it would be necessary to go through the Countess’s bedroom, and I am too frightened.

HERMANN: I will go alone.

LISAVETA: You know the way?

HERMANN: Yes. (She hands him a key she pulls from her dress. HERMANN takes the key, pockets it, takes her hand, pulls her to him, and kisses her forehead. As he kisses her, she closes her eyes and shudders. She exits.) Perhaps, going down that staircase, some sixty years ago, about this time, may have been seen some man in an embroidered coat with powdered wig, pressing to his breast a cocked hat: some gallant who has long been buried; and now the heart of his aged mistress has ceased to beat.

LIGHTS down. A death knell sounds for a count of 30 seconds. When the LIGHTS come up again, ALL stand in a line with COUNTESS laying in front of them, HERMANN at the very end, opposite from LISAVETA. No one cries. LISAVETTA walks to COUNTESS, kisses her hand, then goes to stand on side. So on down the line to HERMANN.  This should be in complete silence, and the sounds of the feet should be disproportionately heavy. When HERMANN’s turn comes, he kneels by COUNTESS’s side. She turns her head slowly to look at him. He starts back, getting to his feet, and LISAVETA cries out and faints. No one else should notice anything. LISAVETA is carried off, everyone following in a silent procession. When the stage is empty otherwise, COUNTESS rises slowly to her feet. HERMANN watches her with a mixture of fear and awe.

COUNTESS (firmly): I come to you against my wish. I am forced to grant your prayer. Three, seven, ace, will win, if played one after the other; but you must not play more than one card in twenty-four hours, and afterwards, as long as you live, you must never touch a card again. I forgive you my death on condition of you marrying my companion, Lisaveta Ivanovna. (She glides out of the church, leaving an astonished HERMANN behind her.)

LIGHTS down

SCENE DOWN

ACT I, Scene 5

A gamboling party. TCHEKALINZKI and MEN sit about playing cards and chatting quietly. This should continue through the scene until stated otherwise. NARUMOFF is dealing. HERMANN enters, bowing to TCHENKALINZKI.

HERMANN: Will you allow me to take a card?

NARUMOFF (laughing, deals afresh): Ah, what man? At last the gambler? Very well, I wish you luck!

HERMANN (examines his hand, writes his bet on a card): Well!

NARUMOFF (closing his eyes): How much? Excuse me, I cannot see.

HERMANN (calmly): forty-seven thousand rubles. (A hush runs through the crowd and ALL turn to HERMANN)

NARUMOFF: He has lost his head, poor fellow!

TCHEKALINZKI: Allow me to point out to you that you are playing rather high. We never put down here, as a first stake, more than a hundred and seventy-five rubles.

HERMANN: Very well, but do you accept my stake?

TCHEKALINZKI (bows in acceptance): I only wish to point out to you that although I am perfectly sure of my friends, I can only play against ready money. I am quite convinced that your word is as good as gold; but to keep up the rules of the game, and to facilitate calculations, I should be obliged to you if you would put the money on your card. (HERMANN hands TCHEKALINZKI a banknote. He examines it, then puts it on HERMANN’s card. NARUMOFF deals, a ten and a three. HERMANN smilingly lays down a three from his hand.)

HERMANN: I win.

TCHEKALINZKI (frowns momentarily for the first time): Shall I settle at once?

HERMANN: If you would be kind enough to do so. (TCHEKALINZKI hands HERMANN a stack of banknotes, which he pockets. LIGHTS flash, and a bell tolls 1 time. Beat. New game) Forty-seven thousand rubles. (NARUMOFF deals again, a jack and a seven. HERMANN lays down a seven) Seven, I win again. (TCHEKALINZKI, no longer smiling at all, hands HERMANN his money. LIGHTS flash, the bell tolls twice. Beat. New game. TCHEKALINZKI deals this time. He turns up a queen and an ace. HERMANN lays down an ace.) Ace wins. (COUNTESS appears from under the table and switches HERMANN’s card with a queen and then hovers behind him. No one can see her, except HERMANN, who doesn’t notice her until his next line.)

TCHEKALINZKI (staring at HERMANN’s cards): No, Queen loses.

HERMANN: What?!

HERMANN looks at his card and jumps back, bumping into the COUNTESS. He falls away from her and lands on the ground, looking terrified. ALL OTHERS jump up and rush over. ONE binds him in a straight-jacket and they start to drag him off.)

HERMANN (repeats as he’s dragged off, voice dying away into the distance): Three, seven, ace; three, seven, QUEEN.

LIGHTS down

SCENE END

ACT END

FIN.