The King: extremely rich.
Old Peasant Woman: hard life, only wishes for a few coins.
(The king, cloaked with majesty, counts his golden coins. Meanwhile, a peasant, old, limps toward the king, hoping to receive just a few coins to make her day.)
In the Castle:
The King: Come no further, foul human. I can’t even decipher your sex for you are so repugnant.
The Peasant: (voice weak with age and overall exhaustion) Your highness. I come with an offering and a desire to have just a few coins. It surely wouldn’t make a difference to you.
The King: Why must you come to me with your problems as if I can snap my fingers and make them disappear? I will not give you a single thing, creature.
The Peasant: But… why?
The King: For then you would have more money than me.
The Peasant: Your Majesty, that makes no sense. I only ask for a few coins. I can see your prodigious sea of glittering gold, surely a cup of that wouldn’t hurt you.
The King: Hmm… No. I cannot give charity to you, for you wouldn’t work at all. You would just obtain things for free, not earning anything with hard work. How preposterous.
The Peasant: Your Highness, I will die without just some of the privilege you have. I just ask to be treated as a human being- not some sort of creature as you claim me to be. I deserve a life as well! Just a few coins would go a long way!
The King: Begone foul thing! You already have privilege- same as me, correct? Are we not all subject to the world? We are equal. Separate, but equal.
The Peasant: How stupid and mad can you be, you stubborn buffoon! I was born in a bale of hay right as a cow emptied his stomach contents next to my poor mother, who was killed not a day later by your own father’s mercenaries, wanting to ravage my destitute village! I lived my whole life without my right hand (lifts up arm from under dirty robe to show a stump) for I was caught stealing grain for my family, whom all were wiped by the plague! Now all I have is my useless husband who doesn’t bother with providing for his pain-filled wife! I have faced much more trial and tribulation in a fortnight than you in your entire livelihood! And you dare tell me we are equal?
The King: (stunned silence)
The King: You called me a stupid buffoon. See, I have faced ten times more anguish than you with that name-calling. Guard!
(Enter Guards, dressed in black.)
The King: Seize her. Throw it in the dungeon where it will await execution.
(Guards drag away the Old Peasant Woman, who is cursing the King.)
The King: To tell me of all people that I haven’t experienced oppression and discrimination. I experience it the most of all!
84 Charing Cross Road
Regia: David Jones
Sceneggiatura: Hugh Whitemore
Montaggio: Chris Wimble
Fotografia: Brian West
Rotten Tomatoes: 87%
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