I Want to Know If Love Is Real & Dancing in the Dark‏

The sky fades from overcast to sunny, as now the camera pans down, the music changes, and see slightly changed courtyard and townscape, altered with the years, a we zero on the Bishop’s mansion, transitioning to two teenage maids, cleaning house whilst conversing with each other….

Redhead, grousing to blond:  Every day I sweat it out harboring these runaway dreams
They say to look for mansions of glory, well, I wanna know right now what that means.
Alas, my class and faith they do confine
Blond, her face expressionless, focused on sweeping, not looking up:  Best watch it, Justine
–you’re stepping out over the line
Justine, stopping her labors:  Emily, this place, it weighs hard on my back
Bishop, now much older, striding up behind her, kindly:  Even if your escape mean risking a suicide trap…?
At this, Justine nods.
Justine:  But I’ve just gotta find out how it must feel

At this, she sighs, and looks out the window, draping her hands on the window sill, gazing out upon the fine landscape below and beyond.
For I don’t really know if love is wild, but I simply want to know if love is real
At this, there’s an interlude (a pause, I think) as the music shifts to a new song, with Emily and the Bishop looking on, as Justine continues to brood…
I get done come the evening, tired and I don’t have nothing to say
I get up in the morning, numb while feeling the same way
Emily, a little worried:  You’re just nothing but tired.  Justine, glaring, but still staring out:  Guess I’m just weary and bored with myself
Perhaps, maybe, if I had just a little in wealth…

Emily, a mite annoyed:  What you seek is fire!   Bishop, placidly:  You can’t start a fire without a spark
Justine, with a touch of melancholy in her  gaze:  But that’s still my desire–even if I’m just dancing in the dark…

Emily, sighing herself:  Well, your dissatisfaction keeps getting clearer–you keep ranting on as I’m working ’round the place
And when you check yourself out in the mirror, you just wanna change your clothes, your hair–your face.
Justine, in self-pity:  I slave around here getting older–there’s a joke here somewhere that I just can’t see.
Bishop:   You’ve just gotta shake this weight off  shoulders.  Justine chuckling bitterly:  I guess, really, the laugh’s on me
At this, Emily nods, even as Justine sighs at her reflection in the w3indow pane.

But that’s just my desire, and you can’t start a fire without a spark
Emily, frowning at her as Justine’s back is turned:  Still, it seems you’re for hire, even if you’re just dancing in the dark….

At this, the Bishop spies a dark cloud far away on the horizon.
The Bishop, firm, but kindly, looking straight at Justine:  A storm cloud keeps drawing nearer, one I’d avoid, if you were me
The danger keeps getting clearer, but what I just can’t see

Man I ain’t getting nowhere just sitting in a dump like this
There’s something happening somewhere but I just don’t know what it is
Emily, annoyed, to the Bishop:  She just keeps getting bolder; (she turns grave) and it fills me with deep worry.
They pause a moment, their gazes locked on this unhappy maid.
Bishop, half to himself, stroking his:  Seems the nights will get colder–something’s a shade familiar, still it remains a mystery.

At this, the Bishop turns, preparing to go, but not before turning his head back, sternly:

Best beware if you seek fire; beware still more if you find your spark
To elude a fate most dire; for your own sake I hope you’ll just keep dancing in the dark.
At thus the Bishop turns and walks away, followed by Emily, leaving Justine to stew by the window in her own juices.


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