Town Crier welcomes the crowd to this madrigal dinner and recalls the tale of Prince Ernest, who is grave (In the glum, not dead, sense of the word). The Jester uses his best material to make the prince laugh, to no avail. The Queen is losing her patience, and Jester is losing his job. Meanwhile, in another part of the kingdom, lives Grace, who is clumsy and accident prone. Her mother is desperate to get her married off, but no suitor has yet proven . . . durable . . . enough. Can any man survive a serious relationship with Grace? Can any woman revive a humorous relationship with Prince Ernest? Can any person not recognize those blatant puns? This madrigal play is excellent for physical humor.
Cast size: 6 Male, 3 Female, 3 Extras M/F
Audience interaction: 
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SAMPLE PAGES:
TOWN CRIER: Oh, most fair ladies and noble men of this realm! Permit me to intrude on the dull affairs of this day, to offer you . . . a diversion, a tale of a very serious and somber nature. You all have heard that laughter is good medicine? What ails the troubled soul is good humor? But, what would you do about someone who has never laughed? Someone who was grave from birth? This tale concerns Prince Ernest, who, as you have seen, is not light-hearted, not joyous, and really not that much fun to be around. (Enter JESTER.)
JESTER: (Visibly frustrated.) This tale concerns someone who does not understand just how much work goes into a job like mine. The prince of this court has not laughed at one joke I have ever told! Not one! As far as I can remember, the prince has always been, well, serious. In other words, he is staid . . .
TOWN CRIER: (Enter GRAVE PRINCE, looking solemn.) Humorless.
JESTER: And not much fun at parties. (To AUDIENCE.) Watch this. (Goes over to the PRINCE.) My lord, why the long face?
PRINCE: Oh, it’s just such a gloomy day.
JESTER: But the sun is shining brightly!
PRINCE: Perhaps for some.
JESTER: Then, perhaps, I can provide some levity to raise your spirits.
PRINCE: Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine. (Sighs.)
JESTER: I must try my best to lighten your mood. Let’s see . . . how about this. How many Norsemen does it take to set fire to a lantern? (Pause.) Why bother with a lantern when there’s a monastery just over the hill? (TOWN CRIER and JESTER laugh. PRINCE just looks at him, unmoved.) Okaaay. Let’s try another: Which Norseman is the best educated? (Pause.) Eric the Well-Read! (Same response.)
TOWN CRIER: (To AUDIENCE.) See what we mean?
JESTER: (To AUDIENCE, yanks his collar) I’m dying up here!
PRINCE: (Sighs. Then starts to exit.)
JESTER: Wait! Sire! One more! How does Jack know when the beans are ripe? Jack and the beans talk! Get it? Beans talk? (PRINCE exits, still sighing.) Oh, I’ve got it! Try this one! (Said as JESTER exits.)
TOWN CRIER: Yes, the Jester had his work cut out for him. He sat up late at night thinking of new jokes, but each was met with the same response. Life around the castle was becoming quite a drudgery. . . . Meanwhile, in another part of the kingdom, lived a very flighty damsel. (Lights up on side-stage. Enter GRACE, carrying a heavy bucket, a mop, scrub brush, and other items.) Her name was Grace. (GRACE is struggling to get everything on stage.) Uh, might I help you with that, young lady?
GRACE: Why, yes, that would be very kind.
TOWN CRIER: (Goes over to help GRACE. After some negotiation, in which he dodges the mop handle twice, he gets the bucket. He goes to set it down, and she bumps him in the buttocks with the mop handle; he flies to the floor.)
GRACE: Oh, I’m so terribly sorry! Do let me help you. (As GRACE goes toward him, she drops another object on his hand.)
TOWN CRIER: Ow!
GRACE: Oh, I’m so terribly sorry! (GRACE lets go of the mop, and it falls close to the TOWN CRIER, who dodges it. He scoots away from GRACE.) My, what great reflexes you have!
TOWN CRIER: Well, I do pride myself on my instinct to live. (Gets up and brushes himself off.) Well, I see you have it from here. I’ll just continue with the tale. (Goes back to main stage.) As you have gathered, Grace was clumsy.
GRACE: (As GRACE works, she trips over something.) Goodness, how did I manage that?
TOWN CRIER: She was a rather bit awkward, in fact.
GRACE: (GRACE gets up and does something else clumsy.) Oh, my. (She ends up breaking the mop handle.) Oh, this will never do. Guess I’ll just empty the bucket and go feed the chickens.
TOWN CRIER: In fact, Grace was anything but . . . graceful. (GRACE throws the water out of the bucket, right onto TOWN CRIER. She is oblivious to this fact and gathers up her supplies. TOWN CRIER continues in a frustrated tone.) And . . . because she was so, so . . . MALADROIT! (Recovers a bit.) Not many people could stand to be around her for very long. (Having gathered her things, GRACE begins to exit toward him.) No!!! (Points to other side of stage.) You exit that side of the stage!
GRACE: Oh, thank you very much, kind sir. (She turns to exit and trips a bit, drops something, picks it up, and makes an awkward exit. Lights down on side-stage.)
TOWN CRIER: Whew! . . . Well, things back at the castle were not much improved. (Enter JESTER and QUEEN. She resumes her seat at the ROYAL TABLE.)
JESTER: My queen, this is becoming quite the problem.
QUEEN: Because you are running out of jokes?
JESTER: Why, no, my queen! That’s not it at all. There is a huge stockpile of humor right up here. (Taps his head.) A veritable well-spring of material.
QUEEN: And, yet, my son does not laugh.
JESTER: Well, far be it from me to criticize, but your son finds everything to be serious. He sees floods when it is only a light rain. He sees drought when there is only sunshine. He sees pestilence—
QUEEN: (Cuts off JESTER and stares at him.) When there is only a pest? Still, you are in charge of making everyone glad of heart. (Enter PRINCE. He walks slowly and heavily, as if his spirit is becoming physically heavy. He takes his seat at ROYAL TABLE.) Ernest becomes more weighty every day. If you are not able to make his heart light, then, perhaps, we are in need of a new jester.
JESTER: (Panicked at the suggestion.) Oh, no, my queen! That is far from necessary! I have many more jokes to try. Just give me more time!
QUEEN: We’ve given you seventeen years. How much more time do you need?
JESTER: (To audience.) At this rate, at least another seventeen. (To QUEEN.) Let me return to my chambers, and I will think of some new ideas. In the meantime, I will try out some of my latest jokes. (To PRINCE.) My lord, some more levity for your day. How about this: Why do knights ride stallions? . . . Because the alternative is a knight-mare. (Laughs overly at this. Neither PRINCE nor QUEEN laughs. He desperately ignores them.) And get this! How do you find a princess? You follow the foot prince! (Laughs hysterically.) Oh, I kill me!! (Neither PRINCE nor QUEEN laughs. JESTER stops laughter and turns to TOWN CRIER.) Knock, Knock.
TOWN CRIER: Who’s there?
JESTER: Help.
TOWN CRIER: Help who?
JESTER: Help me!
