Act 3

A TRAGEDY OF THE GRAND KAISER AUGUSTUS VICTORIA
In the style of William Shakespeare, with thunderous drama and clashing passions

ACT III, SCENE I
A barren wasteland on the empire’s fringes, where winds howl like mournful spirits. Ancient ruins crumble under a stormy sky, and meager fires flicker amid hovels of rags and stone. Here dwell the ANCIENT KINGS OF THE LAND—exiled sovereigns stripped of crowns and realms, living in humble poverty, kind and fair to all who cross their path. They share bread with beggars and wisdom with wanderers. Enter the ANCIENT KINGS: KING OF BABYLON, gaunt and wise; KING OF MU, serene in rags; and KING OF ATLANTIS, eyes heavy with lost glory. Their FRIENDS—loyal retainers, simple folk clad in tatters—gather ’round, weeping openly. The ground is stained with echoes of distant slaughter, and thunder rolls as if heaven itself laments.

KING OF BABYLON
[With voice cracked by exile’s woe, kneeling on barren earth] O ye Ancients of forgotten realms, behold
This poverty’s embrace—our crowns dissolved,
Our lands devoured by tyrants’ greedy maw!
Yet in this dearth, we harbor kindness pure,
Fair to all souls, from beggar low to bird aloft.
No hoard we clutch, no gold like dragons vile;
We share the crust, the cloak, the fleeting fire.
But hark! The slaughter’s cry pierces the night—
The poor, our kin, beaten to death’s cold gate,
While Kaiser’s orgy mocks their dying breath!
Friends true, weep on; your tears are heaven’s dew.
We, kings dispossessed, join your lament—
For what is sovereignty without the just?

KING OF MU
[Raising hands to stormy heavens, eyes brimming] Kind and fair we stand, though landless windswept ghosts,
Exiled from Mu’s sunken halls of light.
No pyramids we claim, no fertile fields;
Yet mercy flows from hearts unscarred by greed.
The mob’s brave surge—crushed ‘neath boot and blade—
Their blood cries out from courtyards soaked in red!
O friends, ye weep as rivers for the slain,
The poor who filled his coffers, now entombed.
We pray to God above, whose justice sleeps—
Awake, O Lord! Redeem these broken souls,
Smite the reptile throne with thunder’s righteous bolt!
For in our poverty, we see truth’s gleam:
The feckless rich dalliance on stolen thrones,
While we, the landless, harbor heaven’s grace.

KING OF ATLANTIS
[Embracing a sobbing FRIEND, voice trembling with grief] Fair to all, we kings in rags proclaim—
No barbed walls fence our humble, open hearths.
Our friends, ye loyal hearts, weep bitter floods
O’er slaughter’s grim tableau: the poor laid low,
Their zombie lust for justice quenched in gore!
While Augustus feasts on mutton’s sin,
Veal’s tender vice, and nymphs’ debased delight,
The courtyard echoes with their final gasps—
Beaten to death, like lice ‘neath heedless heel!
O God of redemption, hear our fervent plea:
Justice descend like rain on parched despair!
Tilt Earth’s axis anew, flood his gilded halls,
As Atlantis sank for hubris’ heavy toll.
We, poverty’s kings, kind shepherds of the meek,
Pray for the slain—may their souls find repose,
And tyrant’s hoard crumble to dust and frost!

FRIEND OF THE KINGS (A LOYAL RETAINER)
[Weeping profusely, falling to knees] O noble kings, ye paragons of grace,
Landless yet lords of virtue’s boundless realm!
We, your friends, bewail the poor’s cruel fate—
Slaughtered like beasts while Kaiser’s laughter rings!
Their PlayStations shattered, emancipation lost,
Voting yon in vain ‘gainst regimentation’s chain.
We pray with thee to God for swift redress:
Redeem the innocent, bring justice’s dawn!
May decimation turn on him who wields it—
His fits epileptic claim his own foul throne!

KING OF BABYLON
[Joining hands in prayer, all kneeling as thunder booms] United in poverty’s kind and fair embrace,
We weep, we pray—O Lord, grant redemption pure!
For slaughter’s shadow veils the land in night,
Yet justice’s light shall pierce the tyrant’s heart.
Amen, amen—let hope from ashes rise!

The group bows in solemn prayer as winds whip fiercer, lightning flashing like divine wrath. Distant palace bells toll ominously.

Exeunt, fading into the A TRAGEDY OF THE GRAND KAISER AUGUSTUS VICTORIA

In the style of William Shakespeare, with thunderous drama and celestial grandeur

ACT III, SCENE II
A desolate plain before the palace, lit by a turbulent sky where comets blaze like divine torches, streaking in fiery arcs to signal heaven’s favor. Thunder rumbles, and a spectral glow bathes the scene. The ANCIENT KINGS OF THE LAND—KING OF BABYLON, KING OF MU, and KING OF ATLANTIS—march with resolute steps, clad in tattered robes yet radiant with humble majesty. Their FRIENDS, loyal retainers, and a swelling tide of the PEOPLE—survivors of the mob, ragged and fierce—join their ranks, wielding makeshift weapons and torches. Above, an ethereal host of ANGELS, faintly visible through storm clouds, marches in celestial synchrony, their wings shimmering with holy light. The palace looms ahead, its gates barred, as AUGUSTUS’s guards brace for conflict.

KING OF BABYLON
[With voice like rolling thunder, raising a staff] Onward, ye exiled kings and people wronged!
From poverty’s embrace we march as one,
Kind and fair, though landless, crowned by truth!
No hoard we clutch, no gold like dragons vile—
Our wealth is justice, pure and unbesmirched.
Behold the comets’ blaze, heaven’s fiery script,
Proclaiming favor for our righteous cause!
The slaughtered poor, their blood yet warm on stones,
Cry out for redemption—God hath heard their wail!
With angels’ host above, in radiant march,
We storm the palace where the Kaiser feasts,
His orgy’s din a mockery of our grief!
No longer rats in mazes scorched, we rise—
The mob reborn, emancipation’s flame!

KING OF MU
[Pointing to the sky, eyes alight with zeal] See, ye faithful, how the heavens join our tread!
Angels of Mu, lost in sunken tides, now soar,
Their wings a beacon through this storm-wracked night!
Comets streak like lances of divine wrath,
Blessing our path to smite the tyrant’s throne.
In poverty we dwelt, yet kind to all,
Sharing crust and cloak with beggar’s kin.
But now the people swell our humble ranks—
No PlayStations’ illusions cloud their sight,
No regimentation’s yoke binds their hearts!
We march to end dehumanization’s sting,
To break the chains of globalized despair!
The Kaiser’s gold—hoarded in freezing tombs—
Shall crumble as Atlantis sank of yore.
O God, redeem the slain with justice swift!

KING OF ATLANTIS
[Brandishing a broken scepter, voice resonant] Fair to all, we kings in rags proclaim—
No barbed walls fence our souls, no pyramids mock!
The people join, their torches rival stars,
As angels march in heaven’s vaulted host,
And comets burn to herald victory’s dawn!
The slaughtered poor, beaten to death’s cold gate,
Weep not alone—our tears with theirs entwine.
Augustus gorges, nymphs in debased dance,
While blood pools red where once our brothers stood.
O Lord of light, whose favor streaks the sky,
Tilt Earth anew—let his empire drown in shame!
We pray for justice, for the meek’s redress—
Their zombie lust for right shall storm his gates!
No longer lice, but wolves with righteous fangs!

FRIEND OF THE KINGS (A LOYAL RETAINER)
[With fervent cry, rallying the PEOPLE] O noble kings, ye beacons of the just!
In poverty ye shone, kind to every soul—
Now lead us forth where comets light the way!
The angels’ march above, their wings a hymn,
Doth echo our resolve to end this reign!
The Kaiser’s feast—mutton, veal, and lust—
Mocks our kin’s slaughter in the courtyard’s mire.
We, the people, rise with ye, no longer
Divided, fickle mob, but unified in fire!
Hey, Hey, Hey—defy his reptilian hoard!
No Great Father’s shade, no portrait stern,
Shall bind us to his ruthless, costly will!

SURVIVOR BEGGAR (FROM THE PEOPLE)
[Brandishing a torch, voice raw] We filled his coffers, fashioned coffins dire—
Now tombs we’ll carve with vengeance’s sharp blade!
His jests of goats, slit throats at dawn’s first light,
His orgy’s din—nymphs debased for coin—
Are sins against our kin, once joined in urge!
Comets blaze to bless our curmudgeon’s curse—
Ancients of Mu, of Babylon, of seas lost,
Guide us to Staniland, not his vile hoard!
No more regimentation’s chain, nor lies
Of Big Brother’s love, taping our every vice!
We march for abundance, not struggle’s race—
O God, redeem our dead with Kaiser’s fall!

SURVIVOR LABORER
[With axe raised, roaring to the throng] Morality in needs, not shining deeds!
His delicate affairs—wine, flesh, and gold—
Are lunacy’s plea, not empire’s might!
Angels above, comets’ holy fire—
Ye sanctify our wrath to storm his gates!
No pentagrams we dance, but justice’s tread,
No machines we, but flesh that screams for right!
The people join—leaderless, yet one—
To end his zenith’s peak in our crescendo!

The PEOPLE surge forward, their chants rising: “Justice! Redemption! Down with the Kaiser!” ANGELS’ faint hymns blend with comets’ fiery streaks, as the palace gates loom closer. GUARDS atop the walls shout alarms, drawing swords.

KING OF ATLANTIS
[With final, thunderous call] O heaven’s host, march with us, radiant throng!
Comets, blaze on—God’s favor seals our vow!
No longer landless, we reclaim our right—
To Staniland’s wealth, to freedom’s boundless light!
Forward, ye just, with angels at our side—
Let Augustus’ throne in blood and ruin bide!

The ANCIENT KINGS lead the PEOPLE in a relentless march, torches flaring, as comets illuminate their path. ANGELS’ silhouettes pulse brighter, and thunder shakes the earth as the palace braces for siege.

Exeunt, the host advancing with divine A TRAGEDY OF THE GRAND KAISER AUGUSTUS VICTORIA

In the style of William Shakespeare, with thunderous drama and clashing passions

ACT III, SCENE III
The palace throne room, breached by the marching host. Comets still streak the sky visible through shattered windows, and angelic echoes whisper faintly. The ANCIENT KINGS—KING OF BABYLON, KING OF MU, and KING OF ATLANTIS—stand resolute before AUGUSTUS VICTORIA, who lounges defiantly on his throne, flanked by VOLUPTASUEVIUS, CONVIVILIATYICUM, and trembling GUARDS. BROTHER INVICTA, GENERAL RANDSTANDAFARIAN, SURVIVOR BEGGAR, SURVIVOR LABORER, SURVIVOR MATRON, and the PEOPLE crowd the chamber, weapons poised. Thunder punctuates the air, as celestial light bathes the debaters.

KING OF BABYLON
[Advancing with dignified calm, voice steady] O Augustus, self-crowned in folly’s gold,
We, ancient kings of realms long lost to time,
Come not in wrath alone, but wisdom’s grace.
True kingship’s virtue lies not in hoarded wealth,
Nor orgies vile where nymphs debase for coin,
But kindness fair, to beggar and to foe.
A king must serve as shepherd to his flock,
Sharing crust in poverty’s humble hall,
Not swimming in hordes while subjects starve thin.
Justice redeems the throne—redeem thyself!
Rule with heart’s equity, not reptile’s greed;
For empires crumble when the poor are slain.

AUGUSTUS
[Sneering from his throne, quaffing wine] Ha! Virtues of kingship from landless shades?
Ye ghosts of Mu and Babylon sunk low,
What know ye of power’s zenith, my grand peak?
Kingship is will incarnate—people’s lust
For gold, for rut, for perversions taped and sold!
Like Stalin great, I deny them naught but truth—
Big Brother’s love urges their basest fire.
Kindness? Fairness? Weakness cloaked in rags!
I shrug the sky, lest all tumble—cum, ye fools!
My throne endures on billions counted cold,
While ye pray in poverty’s empty creed.

KING OF MU
[With serene authority, gesturing to the comets] Nay, tyrant bloated on mutton’s sin and veal,
Kingship’s true virtue flows from heaven’s light—
As comets blaze our favor, angels march!
Fairness to all, not dalliance with the rich,
Nor decimation’s lash on dissenting ranks.
A king must tilt the Earth to endless day,
Not hoard like dragons, denying carnal law.
Justice demands emancipation’s cry—
Redeem the slaughtered poor with humble bow;
For regimentation chains the soul in frost,
And kindness frees the nation from thy yoke!

VOLUPTASUEVIUS
[Leaning on AUGUSTUS, with mocking laughter] O ancient wraiths, ye preach of kindness pure?
My lord’s virtues shine in exceptional form—
He tires not of women, boys, or priests’ confessions,
But rules with rage that gnaws the reptile core!
Fairness? A jest! He’d see ye crawl on fours,
Devouring kin in logic cold and void.
His kingship’s heat debased—gorgeous and grand!
What’s that? That’s this—a throne of lust and gold!

KING OF ATLANTIS
[Pointing accusingly, voice resonant with prophecy] False siren, hush! Augustus, hear the truth:
Kingship’s virtue lies in poverty’s grace,
Landless yet kind, fair to every wandering soul.
No compartmentalization hides thy sins—
Thy fits epileptic mock the crown divine!
Justice prays for redemption of the meek,
Not slaughter in courtyards while feasts indulge.
Rule as we did—with heart united, home’s simple right,
Abundance shared, not struggle’s infernal race.
Heaven’s comets streak to favor our plea—
Yield thy throne, or fall as Atlantis drowned!

AUGUSTUS
[Rising in fury, spittle flying] Yield? To rags and prayers? My virtues reign supreme—
Ruthless as Great Father’s shade, portrait stern!
Morality in needs, not shining deeds vain!
I am the people’s will—insanity’s crown!
Hey, Hey, Hey—defy ye all, e’en mother’s plea!
Conspire in sleep ‘twixt billions’ weary count—
My kingship hoards, debases, shocks the weak!
No goat screams delight? Ha! Flesh thrills in sin!

BROTHER INVICTA
[Interjecting hotly, sword drawn] Enough, thou cretin crowned in cretinous rage!
The ancient kings speak virtue’s timeless lore—
Kindness and justice, not thy zombie lust!
We, the people, join their march with angels’ host—
Thy throne shall break on fairness’ righteous wave!

GENERAL RANDSTANDAFARIAN
[Wavering, then resolute] O Kaiser, once my lord—thy virtues twist like serpents!
These kings unveil the truth: fairness redeems.
I turn from thee—kindness calls my blade!

SURVIVOR BEGGAR
[Weeping, then fierce] Aye! Their words heal our slaughter’s wound—justice prays!
No more thy hoard while we dine on scraps!

SURVIVOR LABORER
[Roaring agreement] Virtues of kingship? Thine are vice’s mask!
We stand with ancients—fairness storms thy gates!

SURVIVOR MATRON
[With zealous nod] Heaven favors them—comets blaze our path!
Redemption comes; thy debased heat shall cool!

CONVIVILIATYICUM
[Slyly, to AUGUSTUS] My lord, their prattle weakens—crush this debate
With steel, not words! Thy virtues endure in might!

The chamber erupts in clamor as comets flare brighter, angels’ whispers swell, and the PEOPLE surge forward, the debate igniting final clash.

Exeunt amid rising chaos and thunder’s A TRAGEDY OF THE GRAND KAISER AUGUSTUS VICTORIA

In the style of William Shakespeare, with thunderous drama and clashing passions

ACT III, SCENE IV
The throne room in chaos, swords clashing amid comet-streaked light pouring through shattered windows. ANGELS’ ethereal hymns swell as the PEOPLE surge forward. AUGUSTUS VICTORIA staggers back, his throne toppled, flanked by fleeing GUARDS. VOLUPTASUEVIUS and CONVIVILIATYICUM cower nearby. The ANCIENT KINGS stand firm, their presence a beacon. The SURVIVOR BEGGAR, eyes burning with vengeance, lunges through the fray with a hidden dagger.

AUGUSTUS
[Clutching his side, roaring defiance] Treason’s tide engulfs my throne divine!
Ye landless kings, ye rags of ancient dust—
Your virtues prate while my will reigns supreme!
I shrug the sky—let empires tumble down!
No kindness weak, no fairness’ empty plea—
Power’s mine, with nymphs and gold entwined!
Stalin’s shade laughs at your prayers vain;
Big Brother’s eye records your fall, not mine!

SURVIVOR BEGGAR
[Bursting forward, voice a guttural cry] Enough, thou reptile hoarder of our blood!
For slaughtered kin, for bread turned bitter stone,
For orgies vile while we in courtyards bled—
This blade redeems the poor’s eternal woe!
[He stabs AUGUSTUS fatally in the stomach, twisting the dagger deep. AUGUSTUS gasps, blood blooming on his robes.]
Thy zenith’s peak crumbles to dust and frost!
No more thy jests of goats and slit-throat dawn—
Die, Kaiser false, in thy own zombie lust!

AUGUSTUS
[Clutching the wound, staggering, eyes wide in shock] O treacherous cur! This… this mortal sin…
My gold… my nymphs… Big Brother’s love betrayed!
I… shrug no more… the sky… it tumbles… down…
[He collapses, gasping his last, blood pooling like wine spilled in revelry.]
Hey… Hey… Hey…

The room falls silent but for gasps. VOLUPTASUEVIUS shrieks, fleeing in terror; CONVIVILIATYICUM slinks away, muttering curses. GENERAL RANDSTANDAFARIAN lowers his sword, awe-struck. BROTHER INVICTA cheers, the PEOPLE erupting in triumphant cries. Comets blaze brighter, ANGELS’ hymns crescendo.

KING OF BABYLON
[Stepping forward solemnly, raising hands] Behold the tyrant’s fall—justice redeemed!
Yet we, ancient kings of Mu, Babylon, and seas,
Renounce this throne of blood and hollow gold.
No crown we claim, no power’s poisoned cup—
Into poverty’s embrace we retire anon,
Anonymous in rags, kind and fair to all.
Power to the people—let them rule as one!
No kingship’s yoke, but equity’s free reign.

KING OF MU
[With serene nod, addressing the throng] Aye, brothers, sisters—ye who wept and prayed,
We yield the scepter to your hands united.
Heaven’s comets bless this dawn anew;
Angels march no more, their task fulfilled.
Retire we to obscurity’s humble grace,
Where kindness blooms without a throne’s cold shade.
The nation thine—emancipated, just!

KING OF ATLANTIS
[Embracing the PEOPLE, voice resonant] Power to the people—let abundance flow!
No hoard for one, but feasts for every soul.
We fade to anonymity’s quiet veil,
Landless yet free, in poverty’s pure light.
Rise, ye meek—your virtues now prevail!
Justice prays no more; redemption reigns!

BROTHER INVICTA
[Exultant, raising fist] The ancient kings renounce—power ours at last!
No Kaiser false, no reptile’s greedy maw—
The mob ascends, united in our cause!

GENERAL RANDSTANDAFARIAN
[Joining the cheer, sheathing sword] Their wisdom humbles—let the people rule!
Fairness triumphs; tyranny’s dark night ends!

SURVIVOR LABORER
[Weeping joyfully] Renounced for us—the throne to people’s will!
No more decimation; justice’s sweet dawn!

SURVIVOR MATRON
[With fervent nod] Heaven favors this—comets blaze our path!
The kings retire; our hearts in unity beat!

The PEOPLE roar approval, embracing the ANCIENT KINGS who bow humbly before vanishing into the crowd, slipping away to anonymity. The scene shifts as the palace transforms: tables groan anew with feasts for all—mutton, veal, froe-grass heaped like joyous bounty, custard pies smeared in revelry. Wine flows freely, the poor now gorging in abundance. Nymphs and revelers entwine in orgiastic ecstasy, bodies dancing in liberated fire. Torches flare, music swells, and the throng erupts in a giant party—feast and orgy intertwined, moans of delight mingling with laughter. Comets fade as dawn breaks, ANGELS’ hymns turning to triumphant chorus.

SURVIVOR BEGGAR
[Amid the revelry, raising a goblet] To power’s fall, and people’s endless feast!
No bitter bread—lust beautiful and just!

THE PEOPLE
[In unison, amid ecstatic embrace] Hey, Hey, Hey—abundance reigns forever!

The curtain falls on joyous chaos, the empire reborn in equality’s wild embrace.

Finis