A Dark Comedy About Progress, Power, and the Punchline of History
Scene 1: The Meeting of Fools
(Dim light. An empty, featureless void. One by one, the four Yoricks appear, each dressed in the garb of his era. They blink, look around, and begin speaking at once.)
YORICK (17TH CENTURY, THE COLONIZER)
Ah, the good Lord has seen fit to grant me my reward! A new land, fresh and unspoiled. No savages in sight. Praise be!
YORICK (18TH CENTURY, THE REVOLUTIONARY)
Savages? Pah! You sound like a king’s man. Surely, this is the republic of the dead! Liberty, even in the afterlife!
YORICK (19TH CENTURY, THE INDUSTRIALIST)
Republic? You two sound like men who never turned a profit. Where are the ledgers? The factories?
YORICK (20TH CENTURY, THE GENERAL)
Factories? Ah. I must be in the supply depot. I’d like a stiff drink and a casualty report, please.
(They eye each other suspiciously.)
COLONIZER
Hold, sir. By what right do you claim this land?
REVOLUTIONARY
By the same right I claim all lands—by the will of the people!
INDUSTRIALIST
Ah, excellent! And do the people work for me, or do I work for them?
GENERAL
No one works for anyone. They just die. Best to make sure they do it efficiently.
COLONIZER
This is madness! Who are you, to speak so boldly?
REVOLUTIONARY
I am Yorick.
INDUSTRIALIST
Impossible. I am Yorick.
GENERAL
Oh, for God’s sake. I’m Yorick too.
COLONIZER
Blasphemy! I am the true Yorick, servant of His Majesty and—
REVOLUTIONARY
Servant of a king? You disgust me. I led revolutions against men like you!
INDUSTRIALIST
And what did you build from your revolutions? I turned iron and steam into empires.
GENERAL
And I burned those empires to the ground.
(They stare at each other.)
REVOLUTIONARY
Gentlemen, I believe we have a problem.
GENERAL
Oh?
REVOLUTIONARY
We’re all Yorick.
COLONIZER
This cannot be!
INDUSTRIALIST
It’s terribly inefficient.
GENERAL
And yet, it explains the headache.
COLONIZER
Perhaps I am in purgatory, trapped with three demons.
REVOLUTIONARY
Purgatory? No, no, this is a tribunal! The afterlife demands a reckoning of our deeds!
INDUSTRIALIST
Then I shall file an appeal.
GENERAL
(Chuckles) Oh, this is going to be fun.
(Lights dim as the argument grows. The void begins to shift—images of war, factories, revolutions, and colonies flicker in the background. The debate is just beginning…)
Scene 2: The Reckoning of Fools
(Lights shift. The void takes shape—crumbling thrones, broken guillotines, abandoned factories, and rusting tanks litter the space. A long, battered wooden table appears in the center. The four Yoricks eye it suspiciously.)
REVOLUTIONARY
A table! Good, let us sit as equals and debate the future of—
INDUSTRIALIST
I claim the head of the table. Standard corporate structure.
GENERAL
You can have the head, but I’m taking the high ground. (He pulls up a chair and sits atop it.)
COLONIZER
This is absurd. Where is God’s judgment? Where is the divine reckoning?
REVOLUTIONARY
Perhaps this is it. Perhaps we are to judge each other.
INDUSTRIALIST
In that case, I demand a jury of shareholders.
GENERAL
And I demand they be battle-hardened. No civilians.
(They all turn to the COLONIZER, waiting for his demand.)
COLONIZER
I demand that you all stop this nonsense and recognize the natural order! The strong must guide the weak!
REVOLUTIONARY
Yes, and when the weak grow strong, they overthrow the old order.
INDUSTRIALIST
And then they industrialize, expand, and create wealth.
GENERAL
And then someone has to fight to protect that wealth.
(Silence. They realize they’ve just described an endless cycle.)
COLONIZER
Surely, we cannot be the same man.
REVOLUTIONARY
No, but we are the same idea.
INDUSTRIALIST
A fool in different hats.
GENERAL
And history wears us all.
(A long pause. Then, a new figure steps from the shadows—an OLD YORICK, wearing a tattered jester’s cap. His skull-like grin stretches wide.)
OLD YORICK
Alas, poor fools! You thought yourselves kings, revolutionaries, captains of industry and war—but what are you, really?
(They stare at him.)
OLD YORICK
You are me. And I am nothing.
(Lights flicker. The void trembles. The four Yoricks realize they are losing shape, dissolving into each other.)
COLONIZER
No! I was a conqueror!
REVOLUTIONARY
I was a liberator!
INDUSTRIALIST
I was a builder!
GENERAL
I was—
(He falters.)
GENERAL
I was just cleaning up the mess.
(OLD YORICK cackles.)
OLD YORICK
And what was it all for? What did you win?
(Silence. They have no answer.)
OLD YORICK
Ah, but do not weep. The joke was never on you. It was on history itself.
(He claps his hands. The void vanishes. The Yoricks are gone, reduced to dust in the wind.)
(Lights out.)
Scene 3: The Trial of Fools
(Lights shift. The void reshapes into something uncanny—a grand courtroom, yet incomplete, as if built from fragments of different eras. The judge’s bench is carved from colonial wood, the jury box lined with guillotines, the witness stand an industrial steel platform, and the prosecution’s table draped in military fatigues. The four Yoricks stand at the defendant’s podium.)
(A FIGURE enters, dressed in a harlequin’s robe, wearing a skull-like mask. He is THE JESTER JUDGE.)
JESTER JUDGE
Order! Order in this most disorderly court! The accused stand before the jury of history. The charge? Folly, in the first degree.
(The jury is revealed—shadowy, shifting figures, the specters of the people each Yorick has affected. The COLONIZER’S jury consists of indigenous ghosts, the REVOLUTIONARY’S jury is composed of betrayed revolutionaries, the INDUSTRIALIST’S jury is made of broken factory workers, and the GENERAL’S jury consists of the war dead.)
JESTER JUDGE
Each of you is accused of donning the mask of wisdom while performing the act of foolishness. How do you plead?
COLONIZER (straightening his coat)
I plead... divinely appointed. I brought civilization.
REVOLUTIONARY (gritting his teeth)
I plead... necessary. The old had to fall.
INDUSTRIALIST (scoffing)
I plead... profitable. That is the only truth.
GENERAL (with a wry smile)
I plead... inevitable. War is older than all of us.
JESTER JUDGE (clapping)
Ah! Such compelling testimonies! But let us call forth witnesses!
(A WOMAN steps forward—her dress is woven from time itself, strands of different centuries merging. This is LADY HISTORY.)
LADY HISTORY
And what did you all achieve?
COLONIZER (with pride)
Empires! Lands! The spread of knowledge and faith!
LADY HISTORY (to the jury of indigenous ghosts)
And at what cost?
(The ghosts do not speak, only hold up chains, wounds, and faded maps with their lands erased.)
REVOLUTIONARY (defensive)
I freed them! The people needed change!
LADY HISTORY (to the betrayed revolutionaries)
And did they keep their freedom?
(The revolutionaries shake their heads. Some bear shackles from new regimes. Others clutch execution orders.)
INDUSTRIALIST (rolling his eyes)
Progress! Industry! The world moves forward!
LADY HISTORY (to the factory workers)
And were they lifted up?
(The workers display soot-covered hands, missing fingers, and empty wallets.)
GENERAL (with grim humor)
I gave them purpose. Glory. Sacrifice.
LADY HISTORY (to the war dead)
And did they want it?
(The war dead are silent. Some clutch medals. Others clutch nothing.)
JESTER JUDGE (grinning wide)
Ah, the grand cosmic jest! You lived, you fought, you built, you destroyed. And now? The punchline, dear fools?
(He leans in.)
JESTER JUDGE
None of it was yours to keep.
(Silence. The Yoricks realize the weight of the joke.)
OLD YORICK (stepping forward, chuckling softly)
And thus we stand, condemned not by gods, nor devils, nor kings—but by time itself.
(He removes the JESTER JUDGE’S mask, revealing his own face beneath.)
OLD YORICK
Alas, poor Yoricks.
(Lights flicker. The courtroom fades. The Yoricks dissolve into dust, laughing or weeping, until only echoes remain.)
(Lights out.)
Epilogue: The Last Laugh
(A dim glow rises on an empty stage—featureless, timeless. A single skull rests at center stage. Then, faintly, voices—laughter, echoing from the void. One by one, the four Yoricks appear, spectral but unchanged. They are weightless now, untethered from history.)
COLONIZER (scoffing)
Well. That was a farce.
REVOLUTIONARY (chuckling darkly)
All trials are. We just happened to be on the wrong end of it this time.
INDUSTRIALIST (mocking tone)
Did you hear them? “History will judge you.” Ha! And what did it do? Played the fool as much as we did.
GENERAL (grinning, but tired)
And yet, we return. Again and again. Different faces, same play.
(A pause. Then a fifth figure emerges—OLD YORICK, the original, the Fool who has seen it all. He picks up the skull, dusts it off, and examines it as Hamlet once did.)
OLD YORICK (softly, amused)
Ah, dear friends. We dance this dance, century upon century. And still, we ask—was it fate? Was it folly? Or are those the same thing?
COLONIZER (folding arms)
And what now?
OLD YORICK (shrugging, smiling wryly)
We wait. Someone will call for us again. Another age, another stage. And when they do…
(He tosses the skull to the next Yorick—who catches it, then tosses it to the next, passing it down the line until the last one throws it up into the air. It never lands. Instead, the laughter rises, building, filling the space, growing until it is indistinguishable from the sound of the universe itself.)
(Lights fade to darkness. Laughter echoes, then silence.)
End of Play.