英語無頼小説劇 English rogue-school romance play "the Ragman"*1

Dramatis Personae

executioner---owes Ragman money
Ragman---the criminal sentenced to death
the fat judge---who sentenced Ragman to death
the people------bystanders watching the execution taking place
the children------part of the mob
the stage is set in an old public square of a market. gallows are set up upon a wooden frame with a trapdoor.
the executioner and Ragman stand upon the frame that supports the gallows.
the judge stands just below it, some feet away. he has to stay close in order to look due to forgetting his reading glasses at home. He does not know in his case he should stay some distance away in order to see it more clearly (presbyopia).
the people stand behind the judge. the children are brought there and held by their parents in hand.
the scenery is beautiful in Spring. April or May, sunny, just after the rain. it seems to be somewhere in a mountainous region in Swiss. the village seems to be affluent and the roads are safe, the commerce is good. sometimes there are cheats, drunks, rogues, and so very rarely some band of robbers that get put down in a week or a month by the collective effort of constables from the local Landjäger (gendarme, local police force) in a Keep nearby, and then comes back----though having no real consequences to the people living there.
the bird chirps. the sun shines gently. a florid wind blows. the field is green.
……………………..
it begins here.

executioner: "Dying again?"
Ragman "Yeah, yeah, each day, every book"
executioner "And so soon as well?"
Ragman "Market demands."
the villain with limbs bound and a linen bag put upon his head stands before the gallows, facing the executioner. he is facing yet some strange and out-of-place accusations from some anonymous persons within his village, and then for unspecific reason denunciated and sentenced to death by the faculty of jurisprudence due to some very serious moral guilt he is said to have committed---a mortal sin. for this he has to die, though he is entirely innocent, for he was dozing like a bull after rut at the time. This matters not to the judge---who is a utilitarian pragmatist. The judge does not care if there is wakeful moral conscience when a wrong is done to persons. If there is an uproar about murder or robbery, someone has to die: simple as finding a scapegoat, for the buzz is too much trouble to address in comparison to making an exhibition of killing, to satisfy all the supposed plaintiffs and the general bystanders annoyed by the whole restless upheavals and ensuing lawsuit processes. A man is chosen, despite himself being a helpless non-agent of that action; and whose action it is? But it does not matter for the process of carrying out a death sentence in jurisprudence, as long as one bears the black spot, is announced by a town crier invested by the power of Swiss crown to be evil, and people can see him hang---it will be enough justice for one day, and for the whole country.
but to be fair, during the process where the crime was said to carry out, the drunk, sleeping Ragman with a bottle of rum in hand was the only one seen there. there is no witness to the actual scene of the crime, but all those who testify agreed that he was the only person seen to have gone in and out of the crime scene. 
the more damning thing is, the dirty utensil used in that foul crime, half-broken,  bloody, smelling of vomit and booze----the handle of the evil spatula was held in his left hand. when a constable tried to wrest it out of his hand for closer examination, Ragman shooed him away quickly perforce with that murder weapon, and then while the constable was still gasping for breath for that close encounter, he proceeded to stick that handle into the back of his collar and started to scratch his back with it, as if a Roman would use a sponge on a stick to clean himself up after letting go in a Roman toilet. (Ah, splendid Xylospongium.)
According to all circumstantial evidence present, though it might not be able to construe as a factual truth whether the responsibility for the crime belongs to Ragman, but based on rumours of bad relations between the  victim and him (as rumours had it, they had a drunken brawl when they argued about which town's team would win that year's folk football match in coming Shrovetide), the fact that no one else appears to have any motive, and also due to all the recorded precedents of cheap, dirty and dishonest deeds done by this very bad Ragman and was sentenced by all other preceding judges, by the power endowed by the Swiss crown upon him, the fat judge found Ragman yet once more guilty for this crime, in spite of everything and anything.
"Mr. Ragmorale Ragman, " the judge stands just beneath the gallows' frame, pronouncing himself in a disappointing voice from a slip of crimped paper with messy notes written all over on it, "how many times have you committed these crimes already---these ridiculous things people accuse you of? have you not learned your lesson at all? have you no shame? why do you do such a thing?
Could you not better yourself so never to make things wrong again? I swear, if you were not immortal and deathless i would almost feel pity for you. the Raggy-morale Rag-man. Today you get the gallows once more. Tomorrow what would you want for yourself? A squadron to shoot you to death with 'em newly invented harquebus*2?  Or a good old Chinese drawing and quartering powered by four to five strong horses running in different directions while rotating themselves in circles like in a circus---after hanging you 1/8 to death? Or should we present the innovative French guillotine by that doctor---I have heard they are reserved especially for noblemen and intelligentsias in the coming years----those whom people find faults about and are eager to accuse---settling some very heavy old debts and very bitter bad blood in past centuries and such---in France. Me thinks you would like 'em, wouldn't you? Me feels you are always presenting yourself as one of 'em bad ones, who stands against the people. the Ragman, accused. who are rich. who speak themselves in a ragged rigmaroles till every one is so tired in listening they drop to dead sleep, for they have to get up at six a.m. and get along with farming and trades; but I suppose you would not know, would you? you are one of 'em, who do not work and sit on a chair---pretending yourself are important, reading with your small gold-framed specs, thinking aloud, issuing orders and deciding big things. Mr. Raggymorale Ragman.
big, fat, judgmental aristocrat who is almost half broke, and yet spends 4-6 hours per day in a brothel with 'em lowly courtesans or in a tavern playing dice games with 'em flea-ridden peasants. Are you not ashamed of yourself---you, your talk, your status and high birth?
Oh, Rag-morale. Today you die, tomorrow you rise again / why do you have to be immortal like weeds or wheat? me feels locking you up in a dungeon would be more fitting // bloody vampire! you can live for two to three centuries in a dark cellar / without so much as making a groan. you like dark and damp places don't you? / walking Nosferatu //  scarlet devil. liking so much night soil, rats and bats? bloody ragman // none of my business. those constables and persecutor sent me documents, I perused them with me reading glasses and pass't a sentence. I don't care. I am not responsible for all the justice in the country. I am just a fat old man with a wig doing what I was taught to do at law school. bloody ragman. why do you make all of us so difficult living our normal livelihoods?…"
the judge was absolutely raving mad with foams, some orderlies came and carried him away. 
A small gathering of people stood in position behind where the judge was. After the speech made by the judge and him getting carried away by orderlies, the silence of the mob ended, and they gaze, stare or ogle at the unfortunate Mr. Ragman who yet again gets the blame and has to die for the day---- while engaging each other in heated or half-measure heated discussions. some of them point their fingers at Ragman, waving it up and down mesmerically like a music baton, and start telling each other or each other's children in a blaming, officious tone what they suppose the bad Ragman on stage had done. Some are smirking vilely. Some are laughing in a vulgar manner about the whole business, or about something entirely unrelated to this whole business. And some are yelling for no apparent causes. And for even stranger reasons, some start yodeling---- the story happens in a secluded, stranger mountainous region in Swiss---------that absolutely does not exist, after all. 
"How many times already? Ragman again?"
"Oh, I wish I would not be late for my dance class. I paid a lot to my tutor for my dance classes. Why do we need to watch this boring show?"
"I wonder if he is the man that killed Mr. Montagner's cat, that cat was black and had slitted, green and blue odd eyes. How strange that cat was… It cannot meow at all.   I think that cat was deaf, and with black fur too. Glad that he killed it. And now he should be hanged".
"Children, wait a little longer and let's get some sweet meats from the street vendor and go to the puppeteer's theatre.
After that, it is 5 o'clock going home and Greek and Latin reading time for each and every one of you.
And I would also need help doing chores. Who would like to help me doing the chores? I swear it makes me so blooming tired doing chores all day.
When will papa come home? is he drunk with his friends in his friend's house or is he in the brothel again? I swear one day I will sure as resurrection is, take a bloody scissor and ge-…"
Sighs.
in good humour and with a light heart Ragman gently bends down the loose knees and extends upwards the rigid elbows, shrugging, smiling, making a silly face like a circus jester . the audience below the stage laughs out loud. to further entertain them, though with a linen bag over his head he can see nothing, clumsily he tries to stand his body up by balancing upon his fat, ugly toes of his two bound feet and does an imitation of double-legged pirouette possible for him in his condition of bondage. But with such a rotund body frame, plump, listless pile of meat with nearly no workable muscles and horrible sense of balance due to long time of sitting quietly upon chairs, forgoing all physical exercises----it fails spectacularly. but he has served his purpose. the audience breaks out in jolly tears and outcries, with hands suppressing their wildly bellowsing breasts. the children, without understanding anything, follow the example of their parents and start to cry and yell too. overall, it seems like a jolly celebration. and the blissful and merry Shrovetide is so close, too. there will be football match with all towns' teams, there will be betting, story-boasting, singing, dancing and whoring in taverns and brothels, and then it would be quiet Lent for a whole month and a little more.
executioner: "Ragman!"
Ragman:" yeah."
executioner:" see you in a week."
ragman: " yeah. yeah."
executioner comes forth, he begins tying up the noose on Ragman's neck.
Ragman:"
Oh, almost forgot. You owe me lunch from last night's poker. Do not forget to bring some scotch. I cannot drink those hogwashes they call ale."
executioner (sighing, while fastening up the noose to the last): " right, right. (bloody aristocrats). off you go" 
All suddenly turns quiet. The crowd ceased their clamour and stands in silence, the executioner in silent observation, the soldiers do not talk, the invalid judge lying upon his makeshift straw bed in a stable, after having taken some sedatives, looking wistfully up to the sky with a pair of trembling lips.
"
a solider blew the whistle. 
the trapdoor opened.
the ragman hangs on the bough.
"

Well, it looks pretty much like a teru teru bozu*3  to me.

(1976年のイタリアの国際児童音楽祭「第18回ゼッキーノ・ドーロ」では、この歌が「Teru　terubozu」という題名でイタリア語詞を施され出場している[8]。
In 1976, the song was entered in the 18th Zecchino d'Oro, an international children's music festival in Italy, with Italian lyrics under the title "Teru terubozu" [8].
)

………………………
epilogue

I offer this cup of non-existence sake in libation to gentle yet blind virgin Apollon, while myself hanging upside down praying for the fall of rain.

there is no excuse that could be made to an act of cruelty, no matter how justified it is.

*1 the Ragman:
this whole play was inspired by the etymology of the English words "rigmarole" and "ragman"
ragman - Wiktionary, the free dictionary
rigmarole | Search Online Etymology Dictionary (etymonline.com)

*2
harquebus
old matchlock muskeet
difficult to load and fire ordnance with. requires repeated hard drillings and it is only effective by firing in a determined, trained formation to avoid exposing the comrades and oneself to the enemies' onslaught.
it is said as a technique to fire this kind of musket that 
"
All the musketeers, when they get near the enemy are not allowed to fire early, and they're not allowed to just fire everything off in one go, [because] whenever the enemy then approaches close, there won't be enough time to load the guns (銃裝不及), and frequently this mismanagement costs the lives of many people. Thus, whenever the enemy gets to within a hundred paces' distance, they [the musketeers] are to wait until they hear a blast on the bamboo flute, at which they deploy themselves in front of the troops, with each platoon (哨) putting in front one team (隊). They [the musketeer team members] wait until they hear their own leader fire a shot, and only then are they allowed to give fire. Each time the trumpet gives a blast, they fire one time, spread out in battle array according to the drilling patterns. If the trumpet keeps blasting without stopping, then they are allowed to fire all together until their fire is exhausted, and it's not necessary [in this case] to divide into layers.[29]"

—( from Jixiao Xinshu, according to Qi Jiguang )

a similar trend in using the weapon was also observed by an European

In Europe, William Louis, Count of Nassau-Dillenburg theorized that by applying to firearms the same Roman counter march technique as described by Aelianus Tacticus, matchlocks could provide fire without cease.[31] In a letter to his cousin Maurice of Nassau, Prince of Orange on 8 December 1594, he said:

I have discovered evolutionibus [a term that would eventually be translated as "drill"] a method of getting the musketeers and others with guns not only to practice firing but to keep on doing so in a very effective battle order (that is to say, they do not fire at will or from behind a barrier ...). Just as soon as the first rank has fired, then by the drill [they have learned] they will march to the back. The second rank either marching forward or standing still, will then fire just like the first. After that the third and following ranks will do the same. When the last rank has fired, the first will have reloaded, as the following diagram shows...[32]

in a word:
排隊槍斃 Get in line and get shot by bullets.

*3
(Teru teru bōzu てるてる坊主)