Ondine by Jean Giraudoux
Fun and games with this fantastical story of a teenager with special powers. An edited version for a small touring cast of the French author’s classic tale.
Script Excerpt
(A fisherman’s hut. Outside, a storm.)
(Old Eugenie and Old Auguste, who is at the window.)
Eugenie: What are you worrying about? She can see in the dark. Rain just runs off her!
Auguste: Is that her singing? I can’t tell if it’s her.
Eugenie: Who else would it be?
Auguste: One minute it sounds like it’s coming from the lake, the next from the weir.
Eugenie: That’s because it is.
Auguste: What are you saying? Was it your idea of fun at her age to go jumping flash-floods?
Eugenie: I did try it once. They fished me out by the heels. I tried everything once – everything she does all day, every day. Jumping whirlpools, catching waterfalls in a jar… Oh God, I remember once I even tried walking on water.
Auguste: We’re too soft on her, Eugenie. A girl of fifteen shouldn’t be out in the woods this time of night. I’ll have to have a serious talk with her. She can’t just go on saying her prayers under water. Where would we be today if you’d been brought up like that?
Eugenie: She helps me with the housework, doesn’t she?
Auguste: Well, exactly. How would I know?
Eugenie: Is this plate clean or not?
Auguste: That’s not the point. It could be three plates, it could be a dozen; a single shoe or three pairs, it takes her just as long. Less than a minute, and she’s back. The cloth and the polish haven’t been touched, everything’s bright and shiny, but her hands aren’t even dirty. You know what she did today?
Eugenie: She’s never been predictable, not once, not in fifteen years.
Auguste: She pulled the gate up on the fish-trap. All the trout I’ve collected all spring… I just managed to save one for dinner. (The window opens suddenly.) Now what’s going on?
Eugenie: What d’you think? It’s the wind.
Auguste: I tell you, it’s her! I hope this isn’t one of her little jokes, popping up at the window making faces when there’s a storm. That grizzled old man of hers gave me the creeps.
Eugenie: My favourite was the woman with the pearl necklace… Anyway, shut the window if you’re scared.
(Lightning lights up the crowned head of an old man in the window, his beard dripping.)
First Head: Too late, Auguste!
Auguste: We’ll see about that, young lady!
(He shuts the window. It opens again immediately.)