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A Christmas CarolBy Charles Dickens

An Adaptation for the Monroe Theatre GuildMonroe, Wisconsin USA

byMichael Emil Klarer

2009

A Christmas Carol

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By Charles DickensAn Adaptation by Michael Emil Klarer

2009

2009 Michael Emil Klarer

Illustrations by John Leech (1817-1864) for the first edition of A Christmas Carol (1843) by Charles Dickens

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A Christmas CarolBy Charles Dickens

An Adaptation by Michael Emil Klarer2009

Cast of CharactersIn Order of Appearance

NarratorScrooge

Bob CratchitFred, Scrooge’s Nephew

Mr. PooleMr. Chambers

Jacob Marley’s GhostSpirit 1

Fan, Scrooge’s SisterFezziwig

Teenage ScroogeBelle

Dick WilkinsApprentice ScroogeYoung Man Scrooge

Belle’s HusbandSpirit 2, later transformed to Spirit 3

Mrs. CratchitCratchit Daughter

Martha

Cratchit ChildrenTiny Tim

2 Miners (nonspeaking roles)Sailor

Sea CaptainFred’s Wife

Topper (Fred’s randy friend)Woman at Fred’s Party

Third Man with Poole and ChambersBusinessman 1Businessman 2

Old JoeCharwoman at Old Joe’sLaundress at Old Joe’s

Undertaker’s ManMother in DebtFather in DebtPeter Cratchit

Boy with PoultererPoulterer

Servant at Fred’s Door

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Notes: The lines in bold are taken directly from Dickens’ text of “A Christmas Carol.” In the audience program, the scenes use Dickens’ classification of “Stave” to

delineate the acts. The use of a British English or slight British English accent is recommended but

not required. Props and costumes should be period dress of Dickensian England. Sets should be as minimal as possible with the use of costumes, special effects,

props and lighting to set the scenes. The curtain may be left open, and the cast may pass through the set as if shopping

and greeting one another while the instrumentalists and choral section sing on the side using a variety of Carols appropriate to the period.

A bell drones the hour at various times during the day of work and, of course, at the visits of the spirits.

Acknowledgements

My thanks to Cindy Blanc who edited this work, to David Bristow and Joseph P. Peters who helped refine this work and inspired this project through a dare, to the MTG members who initially read the script and gave me their thoughts, to Mark and

Suzanne Miller, Todd Schluesche, Richard Daniels, Richard Hilger, and Fr. Theodore Borger for their sound advice and to the members of the Monroe Theatre Guild who

encouraged me to reach beyond my dreams to accomplish this joyful task.

Dedication

In memory of my parents, Emil and Marcella Klarer

To the Staff and the People of St. Victor Parish, Monroe, Wisconsin

To the dedicated people of Monroe, Wisconsin who have always striven to enhance the arts in our community and who work diligently to provide opportunities for

performance and art and music education for our children. May that tradition grow and flourish through our continued support of the Arts, Music and Education.

Let that be our Heritage and our Legacy.

God Bless Us, Everyone!

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Adaptation Description

This adaptation of Dickens’s “A Christmas Carol” speaks as a dramatic presentation of the possibility of redemption of the darkest of human characters to journey from the hurts and bitter memories of the past through the awareness of the present that allows for any human being to a future of light and human happiness.

Program Notes

In 1842, when she was yet a young woman, Victoria ascended to the throne as the Queen of Great Britain. A remarkable woman, she ushered in a new era of strengthening of British power. She bore an heir and other children to ensure that the aristocracy should not once again fight over the throne as they had done in the recent past. Some thought her useless, and others thought she is without a superior except God the Almighty Himself.

Unfortunately for the common people, society still bore the marks of a more primitive time. Society was in deep need of reform. Debtors’ prisons, workhouses, the treadmill and child labor were all very present. The value of people’s work was little, and many struggled simply to feed their families. Families were often broken because of the poverty they could not escape.

Christmas had little meaning in those days. It was celebrated not as a season but as a day when those who could take time from their jobs, if they were employed, were at home in quiet celebration. The traditions of the season we know today were not a part of the society of the world of Charles Dickens. Victoria’s German husband, the so-called Prince Albert, brought to England odd traditions, such as the “Christmas Tree” from his native Germany.

All of this changed with the publication of “A Christmas Carol” in 1843. Written over the course of a few weeks by Dickens, who himself was struggling with debt, this story was intended to change society and bring about the social reforms that changed the lives of people both in Britain and in the United States.

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Stave the First: Marley’s Ghost

A choir, accompanied by an instrumental chamber group that has been playing as the audience is seated, sings “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen.” The group is dressed in period costume and at stage left. A tall sea captain’s desk is at stage right, dimly lighted.

The singers and instrumentalists, who have been lighted as the audience is seated, continue to play. A spotlight appears downstage center, and the Narrator enters. He turns to look at the musicians and listens for a moment. The music diminishes to silence. The Narrator turns to the audience and begins:

NARRATOR: Lovely, lovely! Our fine musicians have presented a lovely carol. One of my favorites! I chose this carol not only for its message but for its haunting tune. I hope you enjoyed it. A carol has staves, or I think you call them stanzas. Whichever, a good carol tells a story. And that is what I am here to do for you: Tell you a story.

Let me begin. In England in December, the sun sets very early. Being farther north, the sun sets at 3 hours 52 minutes past noon. In the darkness, people live. In the darkness, people have no regard for each other and certainly little regard for Christmas. You see, in 1843, Christmas was barely celebrated except in Church.

This is a dark time. Many people must sell their children to workhouses because they cannot feed them. Others are hauled off to debtor’s prisons to languish while their families starved. It is indeed a dark time. The rich do not work, for they are rich. The poor do not work because no one will hire them. Neither class is truly happy and all are steeped in grief. But the rich have the double poison of Greed! Christmas will come and go, and no one really notices, for nothing really changes.

This is a story of Christmas – or at least a story of a Christmas not long ago for some and a memory of the very distant past to others. I will tell you of one Ebenezer Scrooge. Oh, yes, let us get on with the story.

The Narrator goes to his desk and picks up a quill pen with the spotlight following him. The stage is quite dark, and the Narrator continues speaking as he writes, looking up at the audience as he continues.

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NARRATOR: Marley was dead, to begin with. Dead as a door nail. There is no doubt whatsoever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. He was the only one who knew Marley of those who signed it, and the only one who cared.

Scrooge was Marley’s sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole inheritor, his sole friend and sole mourner. Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, the death of his only friend. Or so it appeared. That Scrooge was an excellent man of business there is no doubt. On the very day of Marley’s funeral, he went on to make a very profitable deal and washed his grief, or so he thought, out of his heart by making more money at a great bargain. Rises, strolls around his tall desk and hangs his arm on its edge.

The mention of Marley's funeral brings me back to the point from which I started. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I will tell. 

So there you have it. Now, let’s see what this day Christmas Eve has in store, for the story I tell you is one to behold. He returns to his desk. The stage is in near darkness. The musicians resume playing and singing “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen.” The bells toll nine. With minimal set pieces, an office emerges at lights up. There is a small desk with a candle for Bob Cratchit; another table holds papers and ledgers. Scrooge’s desk is larger with moneyboxes with locks, more ledgers, candles and other items of a money-lending establishment. A small stove with a coal container next to it is set near Scrooge.

Cratchit cowers behind his desk almost unnoticed in the shadows.

Lights up on set showing Scrooges desk. Scrooge enters and glares at where Cratchit sits. He looks about and removes his coat and hat and goes to his desk where he sits and begins counting coins and recording in a ledger. His face is lined with concentration and pulled in strain.

NARRATOR: Yes, there he is: Our Mr. Scrooge. Not a man you would wish to influence your children. He is a dark horse of the apocalypse, that one.

On the other hand, we now meet one Bob Cratchit. Cratchit slinks in his chair looking cold, stressed, and worried. He is light in a very dark place. He is father of a family with a loving wife. Their poverty caused by Scrooge means little to them, for they live in happiness. He returns to his writing.

SCROOGE: peering up frequently at his clerk Cratchit and then gruffly asks: Have you finished those letters yet? I am not paying you to dawdle. Scrooge goes on counting coins. We must have the letters ready for the post before close of business. People must know that if they cannot pay what they owe they shall be put out on the street.

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CRATCHIT: Shaking at Scrooge’s words; jittery in speech and manner: There are so many letters sir. There is much work here and I am cold. He is distracted and trying to warm himself by rubbing his arms and hands. He fumbles his papers. Some land on the floor. Truly frightened, he places his hands over his face as if lost in thought.

SCROOGE: Yelling. MR. CRATCHIT! WHERE IS YOUR MIND?! Another word out of you about more coal for the fire and we shall part our ways.

CRATCHIT: Oh, sir, I cannot think of anything else but Master Jacob Marley. Seven Christmas Eves this very night Mr. Marley died.

SCROOGE: Stop your useless chatter. Marley is dead, and you will lose your living and be dead too if you do not return to your situation for which I so handsomely pay you!

CRATCHIT: But – SIR – I am cold, and you will catch your death. You have a cold in your body now.

SCROOGE: Ignoring the statements concerning the temperature. Did you not say Marley was dead? Now return to work before I am required to discharge you.

Fred enters and proceeds – bright, handsome and cheery to his Uncle’s Desk. He tips his hat Scrooge who is focused on his ledger book with pen in hand.

FRED: A Merry Christmas, Uncle! God save you!

SCROOGE: Bah! Humbug!

FRED: Christmas a humbug, Uncle? You don't mean that, I am sure.

SCROOGE: I do. Merry Christmas! What reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough.

FRED: Come, then, what right have you to be dismal? You're rich enough.

SCROOGE: Bah! Humbug!

FRED: Don't be cross, Uncle!

SCROOGE: Looking up at Fred with a cynical look. What else can I be, when I live in such a world of fools as this? Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas! What's Christmastime to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer? With a mean chuckle. If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with “Merry Christmas” on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart!

FRED: Uncle!

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SCROOGE: Nephew! Keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.

FRED: Keep it?! But you don't keep it.

SCROOGE: Let me leave it alone, then, much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!

FRED: (Striking a professorial pose). There are many things from which I might have derived good by which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmastime, when it has come round – as a good time. (With emotion, slowly.) A kind, forgiving, charitable time. A pleasant time. The only time I know of when men and women open their hearts freely. (Softer and almost preaching.) And therefore, Uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good. And I say God bless it!

Cratchit bursts into applause. Becoming immediately sensible, he almost falls out of his chair, or actually does.

SCROOGE: Let me hear another sound from you. Pauses, then speaks with a growl. And you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation. To Fred. You're quite a powerful speaker, sir. I wonder why don't go into Parliament.

FRED: Don't be angry, Uncle. Come! Dine with us tomorrow. Scrooge glares at Fred, growls again then emits a cynical laugh.

FRED: But why? Why won’t you come?

SCROOGE: Once again sober and angry. Tell me this: Why did you get married?

FRED: Because I fell in love!

SCROOGE: Shouting. Because you fell in love! Good afternoon!

FRED: Uncle, but you never came to see me before I was married. Why give it as a reason for not coming now?

SCROOGE: Good afternoon!

FRED: Whispers close to Scrooge’s ear. I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we be friends?

SCROOGE: Good afternoon!

FRED: I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel that I am aware of.  I have tried in honor of Christmas, and so I say once again whether you like it or not, a Merry Christmas, Uncle!

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SCROOGE: Standing and loudly as Cratchit covers his ears. GOOD AFTERNOON, NEPHEW!

FRED: He whirls about. And a Happy New Year! To Cratchit. How is that fine family of yours, Bob Cratchit? That oldest of yours has grown much, Peter, I believe, and the youngest, my favorite, Tim. Wish them a Merry Christmas for me.

CRATCHIT: I will indeed, Master Fred, I will indeed, sir! Fred exits.

SCROOGE: Idiot. My clerk. With 15 shillings a week with a wife and God knows how many children. He talks about a merry Christmas. Bah!

As Cratchit holds the door open for Fred, he inadvertently lets Poole and Chambers in. Cratchit fusses, not sure how to get rid of them. They enter, hats in hand.

POOLE: To Cratchit. Are you the owner of this fine business? Cratchit points to Scrooge at his desk. He has kept his head down, hands covering his face, since Fred’s exit.

POOLE: Referring to a list. Scrooge and Marley's, I believe? Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Scrooge? Or Mr. Marley?

SCROOGE: Looking sullen. Mr. Marley has been died seven years ago.  Seven years ago, this very night.

POOLE: Presenting credentials. We have no doubt his with emphasis; liberality is well represented by his surviving partner. He hands credentials to Scrooge, who glances at them and thrusts them back.

SCROOGE: Liberality? What do you mean, liberality?

POOLE: At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge, Scrooge takes up a pen and looking back at his ledger book, it is more than desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. 

CHAMBERS: Many thousands are in want of common necessaries. Hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir.

SCROOGE: Staring at the men. Are there no prisons?

POOLE: Plenty of prisons.

SCROOGE: And the Union workhouses? Are they still in operation?

CHAMBERS: They are. Still, I wish I could say they were not.

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SCROOGE: The Treadmills and the Poor Law are in full vigor, then?

POOLE: Both very busy, sir.

SCROOGE: With a cynical laugh. Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course. I'm very glad to hear it.

POOLE: At this festive time of the year a few of us are endeavoring to raise a fund to buy the poor some meat and drink and means of warmth. What shall I put you down for?

SCROOGE: Nothing.

CHAMBERS: You wish to be anonymous?

SCROOGE: Firm, but growing from impatience to anger. I wish to be left alone! Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned – they cost enough. And those who are badly off must go there.

POOLE: Pleadingly. Many can't go there, and many would rather die.

SCROOGE: If they would rather die, they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.

CHAMBERS: Shocked. But Sir do you not walk the street and see the suffering of people, starving children, the abandoned elderly.

SCROOGE: It's not my business. It's enough for a man to keep his nose to his own business and not to interfere with other people's. My business occupies me constantly. Good afternoon, gentlemen! Chambers and Poole, frightened and shocked, sport stern and disgusted looks as they withdraw. Scrooge has a vindicated look and appears to want to return to his work. As the men exit, they pass a group of carolers on the street, with a small begging boy removed from the group closer to Scrooge’s door. Scrooge is by the sound of their carol.

CAROLERS: “God rest ye merry, gentlemen! Let nothing you dismay!”

SCROOGE: Grabbing a ruler or other object, opens the door and yells at a child standing apart from the carolers. Away with you and your pitiful, dastardly music. To himself. Why is it on this day, remembering Marley’s death, I must have the constant din of Christmas in my ear? The bell tolls the hour of seven. Scrooge rises. Cratchit grabs his coat and hurries to him.

SCROOGE: Lock up, Mr. Cratchit. You'll want all day tomorrow, I suppose?

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CRATCHIT: If quite convenient, sir.

SCROOGE: Yelling. It’s not convenient, and it’s not fair. Growling. If I was to stop half-a-crown for it, you'd think yourself ill-used, I'll be bound? Cratchit cowers. Scrooge, as if to stand over him, speaks on. And yet you don't think me ill-used, when I pay a day's wages for no work.

CRATCHIT: Sir, it only happens once a year.

SCROOGE: Be here all the earlier the next day, Mr. Cratchit.

CRATCHIT: I shall indeed sir. Thank you, sir, Merry Chris –

SCROOGE: Humbug! He exits.

Cratchit whirls about happily, blowing out candles, grabbing key and coat. He dances a bit and waltzes out door. The lights dim. Lights up on Narrator. With the music of “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” in the background, the Narrator addresses the audience.

As the narrator speaks, a door appears with a large knocker on it that will transform into a glowing blue figure when Scrooge puts his key in the door.

NARRATOR: Cold, foggy, dark – you know the feeling of being chilled to the bone. That is the London that Scrooge and Cratchit went out to find on this Christmas Eve, seven years hence from Marley’s death. Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern. And having read all the newspapers, he intended to spend the rest of the evening with his banker's book, and then home to bed. 

His yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew its every stone, had to grope with his hands. Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact, that Scrooge had seen it, night and morning, during his whole residence in that place. Scrooge lived as a hermit, alone in sparse conditions. He had been reminded again and again of this day, yet he put his key in the lock of the door with no thought of his dead partner.

And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge saw in the knocker at once the face of Jacob Marley.

SCROOGE: He approaches the door to his home with his key out and a parcel under his arm. As he places the key into the hole, he looks at the knocker and lets out a gasp. Jacob Marley!

NARRATOR: Marley's face! The face had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look: with ghostly spectacles turned up on its ghostly forehead. As Scrooge looks on the knocker’s face, it suddenly becomes a knocker again. Scrooge is shaken and grabs the

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key in his hand, turning it sturdily. He walks through the door and lights his candle. Scrooge touches the inside of the door as he holds the candle. Scrooge proceeds to a room with a fireplace, two chairs, bowl of gruel on a table and a large bed with curtains about it.

NARRATOR: Scrooge was a man afraid of nothing. He had never been afraid and was proud of it. But on this night he felt fear like he had never felt it before. Lights up on Scrooge in his room with a dressing coat over his suit, sans waistcoat. Scrooge leans with his back to the door, breathing heavily, looking frightened and not sure he is safe. The Narrator continues as Scrooge lumbers across the room, grabs his bowl and falls into his chair.

NARRATOR: Scrooge would never have admitted this to anyone, but before he entered his room and bolted the door, he thought he had seen a hearse – a hearse carrying a casket, pulling away from him, going down the long, empty, dirty, dark hall. Scrooge checks about his room, returns to the door and finds its bolt secure. He grabs his gruel and sinks into his chair. The gruel was to give him comfort for the cold in his head. But he simply holds the bowl and shakes throughout his body. Scrooge eventually stands. Narrator light dims but does not go out.

SCROOGE: Humbug! He paces throughout the room and has several turns grabbing his hair, growing more and more tense. What is it? What is the matter? I must be tired, sick with a cold in my head. Why do I see the face of Jacob Marley on the door? Why do I see a hearse in the hallway? WHY AM I SO FRIGHTENED?

The bell of the clock tower tolls. A bell rings. Then another. Bells ring throughout the theatre. The ringing continues until Marley enters, at which point the loud sounds of heavy objects and dragging chains are heard. Misty fog could add to Marley’s entrance. As Scrooge hugs his chair and shivers with fright, he moans and watches the door. It flies open. Scrooge screams. The demeanor and sounds from Scrooge should frighten the audience. With barely a breath he lets out a squeaking sound.

SCROOGE: It's humbug still! I won't believe it. Marley stands in the doorway. Marley, Marley … Suddenly, with a caustic air. What do you want with me?

MARLEY: Slowly, deliberately. MUCH!

SCROOGE: Who are you?

MARLEY: Ask me who I was.

SCROOGE: Who were you then?

MARLEY: In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley.

SCROOGE: Points to a chair. Can you – can you sit down?

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MARLEY: I can.

SCROOGE: Do it then. Scrooge and the Ghost stare at each other, seated for a long moment.

MARLEY: You don't believe in me.

SCROOGE: Loudly, with shaking voice. I … do … not!

MARLEY: What evidence would you have of my reality, beyond that of your senses?

SCROOGE: Loud, shaking whisper. I don't know.

MARLEY: Why do you doubt your senses?

SCROOGE: Because, a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. With rising voice. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are! Humbug, I tell you! Humbug! At this the spirit raises a frightful cry and shakes its chain with a dismal and appalling noise. Scrooge holds tight to his chair. Marley removes the bandage that holds his jaw, and it drops to his chest. Scrooge screams again, falls to his knees and covers his face. Mercy! Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?

MARLEY: Man of the worldly mind! Yelling. Do you believe in me or not?

SCROOGE: I do. I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?

MARLEY: It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellowmen, and travel far and wide. And if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world – oh, woe is me! Crying. And witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth and turned to happiness! The spirit again cries out, shakes his chains and wrings his shadowy hands.

SCROOGE: You are fettered. Trembling. Tell me why?

MARLEY: I wear the chain I forged in life. I made it link-by-link, and yard-by-yard. I girded it of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you? Scrooge trembles and shakes more. Or would you know the weight and length of this chain, that you wear it yourself? It was full, as heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have labored on it since. Yelling. It is a ponderous chain!

SCROOGE: He glances about him on the floor in the expectation of finding himself surrounded by some fifty or sixty fathoms of iron cable, but he sees nothing. Jacob, old Jacob Marley, tell me more. Speak comfort to me, Jacob!

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MARLEY: I have none to give, Ebenezer. I cannot rest. I cannot stay I cannot linger anywhere. My spirit never walked beyond our counting house – mark me! In life, my spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money-changing hole. And only weary journeys lie before me!

SCROOGE: Scrooge still knees on the floor. He sticks his hands in his pockets and assumes the role of a businessman once again. You have been very slow about it, Jacob.

MARLEY: Slow!

SCROOGE: Well, seven years dead, and traveling all the time!

MARLEY: The whole time. No rest, no peace, the incessant torture of remorse.

SCROOGE: But you were always a good man of business, Jacob.

MARLEY: Business! Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance and benevolence, were, all, my business.

At this time of the year I suffer most. Hear me! My time is nearly gone.

How it is that I appear before you in a shape that you can see, I may not tell. I am here tonight to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. 

SCROOGE: You were always a good friend to me Jacob.

MARLEY: You will be haunted by Three Spirits.

SCROOGE: Looking shocked. Is THAT the chance and hope you mentioned?

MARLEY: It is.

SCROOGE: I – I think I'd rather not.

MARLEY: Without their visits, you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first, when the bell tolls one.

SCROOGE: Couldn't I take `em all at once, and have it over, Jacob?

MARLEY: Expect the second when the bell tolls two. The third being more mercurial will come in its own good time. Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us!

Marley takes the cloth from his wrist, rewraps his jaw and clamps his mouth shut. Marley holds up his palm to Scrooge, indicating he come no farther. Walking backward, he exits.

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Scrooge wanders toward where Marley’s Ghost had appeared. He stands, staring in shock. He turns, goes straight to bed without undressing and falls asleep immediately.

End Stave the First

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Stave the Second: The First of the Three Spirits

Scene: The bed is downstage center; all else is removed. Scrooge wakes as a bell strikes twelve times.

SCROOGE: Why, it isn't possible that I can have slept through a whole day and far into another night. Scrooge jumps out of bed, then crawls back into bed. He stares about the room.

Was it a dream or not? The room is highly illuminated. Scrooge sits up and leaves the bed, which is removed. The first spirit enters. Scrooge gasps as he views it. Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me?

SPIRIT 1: I am.

SCROOGE: Who, and what are you?

SPIRIT 1: I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.

SCROOGE: Long past?

SPIRIT 1: No. Your past.

SCROOGE: Your light is very bright. Why have you come to me?

SPIRIT 1: Your welfare.

SCROOGE: My welfare? What, Spirit, do you mean?

SPIRIT 1: Your reclamation, then. Take heed. The Spirit raises his hand to Scrooge. Rise. And walk with me.

SCROOGE: I am mortal and liable to fall.

SPIRIT 1: Touch of my hand and you shall be upheld in more than this.

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They turn to stage left. A scene of many people walking to and fro passes them without any sense of their presence. Together they look upon the outdoor scene.

SCROOGE: Good Heaven! I was bred in this place. I was a boy here.

SPIRIT 1: You recollect the way?

SCROOGE: Remember it! I could walk it blindfolded.

SPIRIT 1: Strange to have forgotten it for so many years. Let us go on.

NARRATOR: They walked along the road, Scrooge recognizing every gate and post and tree, until a little market town appeared in the distance with its bridge, its church and winding river.

SPIRIT 1: As Scrooge and Spirit walk. What was merry Christmas to you, Scrooge? Mocking. Out upon merry Christmas! What good had it ever done?

SCROOGE: Sad in voice. You mock me, Spirit.

SPIRIT 1: These are but shadows of the things that have been. They have no consciousness of us. The school is not quite deserted. Look! A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.

They walk about the stage as it darkens. An indoor scene of a school house emerges. Scrooge as a youth is sitting on a stool, reading.

SCROOGE: The Spirit touches Scrooge’s arm, points to his younger self.

I remember. Why, it's Ali Baba! It's dear old honest Ali Baba. One Christmastime, when I was here all alone, Ali Baba -- my favorite figure of literature -- came to me so I would not be all alone at Christmas. I was immersed in my book, and I was no longer alone in this cold, desperate place.

SCROOGE: Muttering, hands in pocket, after drying his eyes with his cuff. I wish … but it's too late now.

SPIRIT 1: You wish what?

SCROOGE: There was a boy singing a Christmas Carol at my door last night. I should like to have given him something. That's all.

SPIRIT 1: Smiling thoughtfully, waving its hand. Let us see another Christmas!

NARRATOR: The boy exits. A handsome yet worn teenage Scrooge enters. Now, my friends, here emerges Scrooge a few years later.

18

FAN: A young girl enters, runs to Teen Scrooge. Dear, dear brother. I have come to bring you home, dear brother! To bring you home, home, home!

TEEN SCROOGE: Home, little Fan?

FAN: Yes! Home, forever and ever. Father is so much kinder than he used to be! He spoke so gently to me one dear night when I was going to bed that I was not afraid to ask him once more if you might come home. And he said, “Yes, you should!” And he sent me in a coach to bring you.

And you're to be a man! And are never to come back here. But first, we're to be together all the Christmas long and have the merriest time in all the world.

TEEN SCROOGE: You are quite a woman, little Fan.

Fan claps her hands and laughs. She tries to touch his head, but being too little, laughs again, and stands on tiptoe to embrace young Scrooge. She drags him, in childish eagerness, toward the door. They exit.

SPIRIT 1: Always a delicate creature, whom a breath might have withered. But she had a large heart!

SCROOGE: So she had. You're right. I'll not deny it!

SPIRIT 1: She died a woman, and had, as I think, children.

SCROOGE: One child.

SPIRIT 1: True, your nephew!

SCROOGE: Yes. The scene changes to a business establishment with a desk and two clerks scurrying about with cloths and other dry goods.

NARRATOR: They left the school behind them and were transported into a street bustling with shoppers. They stopped at the store of one Fezziwig.

SPIRIT 1: Do you know this warehouse and its owner?

SCROOGE: They go in. An old man in a Welsh wig enters and sits behind a high desk. Know it?! I was apprenticed here! With great excitement. Why, it's old Fezziwig! Bless his heart; it's Fezziwig alive again!

FEZZIWIG: Laying down his pen, he looks up at a clock, which points to seven. He rubs his hands, adjusts his waistcoat, laughs heartily and calls out in a jovial voice. Yo ho, there! Ebenezer! Dick! Young Scrooge enters briskly, accompanied by his fellow apprentice.

19

SCROOGE: To the Spirit. That’s Dick Wilkins, to be sure. He was very much attached to me.

FEZZIWIG: Yo ho, my boys! No more work to night. Christmas Eve, Dick! Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up before a man can say Jack Robinson.

Apprentices Scrooge and Wilkins rush about, cleaning up. Mrs. Fezziwig, daughters and their male friends enter the scene. The revelers dance and converse briefly. Belle, a beautiful woman enters. She, Fezziwig and Apprentice Scrooge are downstage. Chamber music plays in the background.

FEZZIWIG: Young Ebenezer, I wish to introduce you to a wonderful young woman, Miss Chattwood.

BELLE: Curtseying. Please, Mr. Fezziwig! My name is Belle. Please call me Belle. I have longed to make your acquaintance, Ebenezer Scrooge.

APPRENTICE SCROOGE: Bowing. Indeed! My great pleasure indeed! They wander off together, quietly chatting as the dancing continues. When the clock strikes eleven, the party disperses. The Fezziweg’s shake hands and say farewell to each reveler as they exit, wishing them Merry Christmas. Apprentice Scrooge waves a special farewell to Belle. All exit.

WILKINS: As he exits. That old man, Fezziwig! How generous he is, how good he is to us! And you, Ebenezer, you are so fortunate to be introduced to such a wondrous woman, Belle Chattwood.

SPIRIT 1: A small matter to make these silly folks so full of gratitude.

SCROOGE: Small? The Spirit indicates that Scrooge should listen to the two apprentices, who pour out their hearts in praise of Fezziwig:

SPIRIT 1: Looking at Scrooge. Why! Is it not? He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money: three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?

SCROOGE: It isn't that. It isn't that, Spirit. He has the power to make us happy or unhappy; to make our work light or burdensome; a pleasure or toil. The happiness he gives is quite as great as if it cost a fortune. Scrooge feels the Spirit's glance and stops.

SPIRIT 1: What is the matter?

SCROOGE: Nothing in particular.

SPIRIT 1: Something, I think?

20

SCROOGE: Apprentice Scrooge dims the lamps as Scrooge speaks; he and Wilkins exit. No, it’s just that I should like to be able to say a word to my clerk, Bob Cratchit just now! That's all.

SPIRIT 1: Standing by Scrooge in the open air. My time grows short. Quickly!

A bench with Belle appears. Young Man Scrooge walks in and sits pensively beside her. She sits back and looks ahead; he is perched on the edge of his seat nervously.

SPIRIT 1: Young Scrooge enters. He is dressed more maturely and aged somewhat. Let’s take a good look at this man Ebenezer Scrooge.

NARRATOR: Scrooge is older now, a man in the prime of life. His face had not the harsh and rigid lines of later years, but it had begun to wear the signs of care and avarice. And our man Scrooge is not alone. He sits by the side of a fair young girl in a mourning-dress. It is the beautiful woman, Belle, the woman Scrooge met at Old Fezziweg’s party.

BELLE: It matters little to you, very little. Another idol has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve.

YOUNG SCROOGE: What idol has displaced you?

BELLE: A golden one.

YOUNG SCROOGE: This is the way the world works. There is nothing as terrible as poverty. What is wrong with working hard and making a fortune to care for you, Belle?

BELLE: Ebenezer, you fear too much in this world. But there is no greater fear you have than to be without money. I have seen your best self die to serve the master of gold. Gain consumes you Ebenezer. You sadden my heart.

YOUNG SCROOGE: Whatever I have gained by my hard work will never change my feeling of loyalty and love toward you?

BELLE: Our contract is an old one. It was made when we were both poor and content to be so. You are changed. When our contract was made, you were another man. If you were a wealthy man then would you still have choosen me?

YOUNG SCROOGE: Meekly. I was a boy.

BELLE: You have changed and I have not. I desire happiness for both of us. You desire happiness for yourself in your money. That golden idol was to be a gift to me, but also one for you to preserve and grow. You know full well I would be a burden financially to you. Your own eyes betray your heart – cold as it is.

21

YOUNG SCROOGE: Have I ever sought release?

BELLE: In words? No.

YOUNG SCROOGE: In what, then?

BELLE: In a changed nature; in an altered spirit. Look at me, Ebenezer. If we had never met, if we had not been poor, tell me: Would you still seek me out and try to win me now?

YOUNG SCROOGE: Looks down, stammers. You think not?

BELLE: Oh! What a safe and terrible answer, Ebenezer.

YOUNG SCROOGE: But …

BELLE: But if you were free today, tomorrow, yesterday – can even I believe that you would choose a girl without a dowry? You would not choose me. In fact you would not even notice me. The only beauty that you see is what is contained in a golden coin.

Your only important value is that by which you weigh everything in life – the weight of the coin you carry in your purse. I mourn for you, Ebenezer. I mourn that the man I loved has been destroyed by the man of greed. Firmly, with emotive grief. I release you with a full heart, FOR THE LOVE OF HIM YOU ONCE WERE.

BELLE: Scrooge was about to speak; but with her head turned from him, she resumes. You may have pain in this. The memory of what is past half makes me hope you will. May you be happy, Ebenezer, in the life you have chosen! She exits. Young Scrooge stares at her, paralyzed and unable to go after her. He turns, walks slowly, with head hung low. He exits.

SCROOGE: Spirit, show me no more! Conduct me home. Why do you delight to torture me?

SPIRIT 1: One shadow more.

SCROOGE: No more! No more! I don't wish to see it! Show me no more! The relentless Spirit pinions him, forcing him to observe what happens next. Children enter the scene. Belle’s husband, weighed down with gifts, enters. Belle enters carrying an infant, and hands the child to her oldest daughter. The children scream with delight, and presents go flying everywhere.

NARRATOR: Oh, the “what ifs” in life. My friends, rarely do we ever see the real consequences of our actions or the true course nature does guide us.

22

BELLE’S HUSBAND: Children! No opening of presents until after our festive Christmas Eve dinner tonight! And you, my darling wife, my lovely one! Good Christmas! And how is your heart and health? He kisses her. They walk arm in arm downstage as they speak. Belle, I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon.

BELLE: Who was it?

BELLE’S HUSBAND: Guess!

BELLE: How can I? Tut, don't I know. Pauses with a giggle. Mr. Scrooge?

BELLE’S HUSBAND: Mr. Scrooge it was! I passed his office window; and as it was not shut up, and he had a candle inside, I could scarcely help seeing him. His partner, Jacob Marley, lies upon the point of death, I hear; and there Scrooge sat all alone. Quite alone in the world, I do believe.

BELLE: I pity him. Poor Ebenezer.

SCROOGE: Spirit! Remove me from this place!

SPIRIT 1: I told you these were shadows of the things that have been. That they are what they are, do not blame me!

SCROOGE: Remove me! I cannot bear it! He turns on the Spirit, and seeing that it looks on him with a face in which in some strange way there are fragments of all the faces it had shown him, wrestles with it. I beg you. Haunt me no longer! .

SPIRIT 1: Laughing, raw. The Truth, Scrooge. You can never extinguish the Truth!

SCROOGE: AHHHHH! Leave me!! Good God, leave me! The Spirit exits.

End Stave the Second

Intermission

23

Stave the Third:The Second of the Spirits

Scrooge emerges, the bed may not be necessary, and comes into the presence of Spirit 2. a grand man dressed in a open-chested garment with a flowing cape and a crown of holly. He holds an unlit torch or horn of plenty-type scepter with which he “flavors” the scenes. Scrooge hangs his head before this Spirit. He is not the dogged Scrooge he had been.

SPIRIT 2: Come, Ebenezer Scrooge! The spirit utters a great laugh – almost a ho-ho-ho -- as Scrooge faces him. Come! Come and know me better, man. I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Look upon me! Pauses. You have never seen the like of me before!

SCROOGE: Never. No, never. Indeed you are most curious. And so is this place.

SPIRIT 2: Have you never walked forth with the younger members of my family?

SCROOGE: I don't think I have. I … I am afraid I have not. Have you many brothers, Spirit?

SPIRIT 2: Roaring with laughter. More than eighteen hundred!

SCROOGE: A tremendous family to provide for. The spirit rises. Spirit, conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a great lesson. Tonight, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it.

SPIRIT 2: Touch my robe. Scrooge does as he is told and holds it fast. They walk into a street scene in London. Come let us see a dinner for the poor.

SCROOGE: Why to a dinner for the poor?

SPIRIT 2: Because those who are poor need our care the most. Come. Let us look in on a man and a dinner at his house. Is he familiar to you, Scrooge?

MRS. CRACHIT: What has ever got your precious father, then? And your brother, Tiny Tim? And Martha wasn’t as late last Christmas Day.

DAUGHTER: Here's Martha, mother.

24

CRACHIT CHILDREN: Here's Martha, mother! Hurrah! There's such a goose, Martha!

MRS. CRACHIT: Why, bless your heart alive, my dear! How late you are! She kisses Martha a dozen times and helps her off with her shawl and bonnet with officious zeal.

MARTHA: We'd a deal of work to finish up last night and had to clear away this morning, mother.

MRS. CRACHIT: Come my child and sit ye down before the fire.

CRACHIT CHILDREN: No, no! There's father coming. Hide, Martha! Hide! Martha hides herself. Bob Cratchit enters with Tiny Tim on his shoulder. Tiny Tim bears a crutch and braces support his legs.

CRACHIT: Why, where's our Martha?

MRS. CRACHIT: Not coming …

CRACHIT: Not coming?! Not coming upon Christmas Day?

MARTHA: She emerges and runs to Cratchit. Oh, my dear father!

CRACHIT: My dear Martha, what joy you bring me on Christmas Day. Just look at you what a gift you are to me.

MRS. CRACHIT: And how did little Tim behave?

CRACHIT: As good as gold, and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. With emotion. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple. And it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day he who made lame beggars walk and blind men see. A merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!

CRACHIT FAMILY: God bless us, every one!

TINY TIM: God bless us, every one!

The family busies itself with dinner preparations and general good cheer as Scrooge and the Spirit converse.

SCROOGE: Spirit, tell me if Tiny Tim will live.

SPIRIT 2: I see a vacant seat in the poor chimney corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will die.

SCROOGE: Oh, no, kind Spirit. Say he will be spared.

25

SPIRIT 2: If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population. Scrooge hangs his head to hear his own words quoted by the Spirit, and is overcome with penitence and grief. The Spirit rears and looks at Scrooge with disgust.

SPIRIT 2: Man, IF man you be in heart, not consumed totally by your own wickedness that hardens your whole being and destroys your soul, then you may understand what surplus population is and what it is not! Scrooge, look at me! Look into the eyes of this Christmas Day. Will you decide what men shall live, what men shall die? It may be, that in the sight of Heaven, you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man's child. Scrooge bends before the Ghost's rebuke. Trembling, he casts his eyes on the ground. He raises it quickly on hearing his name.

CRACHIT: Mr. Scrooge! I'll give you Mr. Scrooge, the Founder of the Feast!

MRS. CRACHIT: The Founder of the Feast, indeed! I wish I had him here. I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope he'd have a good appetite for it.

CRACHIT: My dear, the children. Christmas Day.

MRS. CRACHIT: It should be Christmas Day, I am sure, on which one drinks to the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr. Scrooge. I'll drink his health for your sake and the Day's, not for his. Long life to him! A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! He’ll be very merry and very happy, I have no doubt! The children drank the toast after her, Tiny Tim the last. The family scene darkens.

Suddenly and abruptly at stage right, Scrooge and Spirit 2 appear transported to observe two men, a sailor and his captain, at a ship’s wheel or looking from a deck-like scene out at the sea.

SPIRIT 2: See, Scrooge, these men at sea, not able to reach their families in time for Christmas joy. They long to be far from the peril of the sea in the safety, warmth and love of their homes.

SAILOR: Approaching the ship’s Captain. It is the daybreak of Christmas Day, Captain.

CAPTAIN: Aye, and I am most sad the wind blew against us and we have not yet reached hearth and home. They shall be so sad but not as grieved as I. Pray, forgive me, lad. This Christmas is a disappointment because of me. I have ruined this day and its joy for you.

SAILOR: Captain, sir! Do not be of heavy heart. Let us rejoice, for we have life on this Christmas Day! We may not be with those who warm our hearts, but we are with those who are brothers at sea. A most dependable family we are, for without each other none of us would survive. So, lead us in a Christmas cheer, sir. Hail the day and give thanks!

26

CAPTAIN: Right you are, sailor. Right you are! To this good ship and crew I say Happy Christmas! Merry your hearts! God bless us with fair winds and following seas! God bless us every one! Raise a Christmas hymn! They sing, “Good Christian Men, Rejoice!” with other voices joining in from the chorus, fading to a hum.

The lights dim on the sea scene. Another Christmas Feast emerges downstage center with merriment and laughter. The people of Fred’s household have finished their Christmas meal and are enjoying after-dinner drinks.

SCROOGE: What is this? The home of my nephew?

FRED: Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live! He believed it too.

BETSY, FRED’S WIFE: More shame for him, Fred.

FRED: He's a comical old fellow, that's the truth. And not so pleasant as he might be. However, his offenses carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him.

BETSY, FRED’S WIFE: I'm sure he is very rich, Fred. At least you always tell me so.

FRED: What of that, my dear? His wealth is of no use to him. He doesn’t do any good with it.

BETSY, FRED’S WIFE: I have no patience with him.

FRED: Oh, I have. I am sorry for him; I couldn't be angry with him if I tried. Who suffers by his ill whims? Himself, always. Here, he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won't come and dine with us. What's the consequence? He doesn’t lose much of a dinner.

BETSY, FRED’S WIFE: I beg your pardon sir! Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner. Those attending all agree, hailing the dinner and cook.

FRED: Well. I'm very glad to hear it, because I haven't great faith in these young housekeepers. What do you say, Topper, my dearest friend?

TOPPER: Fanning himself and wiping his brow. Oh my! It is indeed hot in here, quite steamy! He has been eyeing Fred’s wife’s sister throughout the scene.

FRED: Topper! You old goat, do you have desires on the beautiful sister of my wife? Come you, my randy friend!

27

BETSY, FRED’S WIFE: Do go on, Fred. He never finishes what he begins to say. He is such a ridiculous fellow.

FRED: Laughing. I am sorry my dear. I was only going to say, that the consequence of Uncle Scrooge taking a dislike to us, and not making merry with us, is, as I think, that he loses some pleasant moments, which could do him no harm. I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him. He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can't help thinking better of it – I defy him – if he finds me going there, in good temper, year after year, and saying “Uncle Scrooge, how are you?” But enough of him that poor fellow. A game!

SCROOGE: Here's another game: One half hour, Spirit, only one.

FRED: It is a game called: Yes and No. I think of something, and you must find out what. I will only answer to questions with yes or no. And so we begin.

BETSY: Mineral?

FRED: No!

JENNY: Vegetable?

FRED: No!

TOPPER: Fred, you devil, you are thinking of an animal.

FRED: Yes!

SETH: Is it gentle, domestic, a pet?

FRED: No!

EMILY: Is it alive and savage?

FRED: Yes!

WALTON: Is it found in the deepest jungle?

FRED: NO!

BONNIE: Does it fly through the air?

FRED: I should think not, my dear, no!

TOPPER: Do we know it in our land.

28

FRED: Yes!

JENNY: Does it live close to us?

FRED: Yes!

EMILY: Does it live here in London?

FRED: Yes!

JENNY: Is the beast mean and nasty?

FRED: Yes!

DANIEL: Is it to be killed for our enjoyment?

FRED: Certainly, no!

SETH: Is it to be maligned because it frightens us?

FRED: Yes!

BONNIE: Is it a human, an ogre?

FRED: Yes!

DANIEL: Does it hoard its treasure and secure it’s wealth?

FRED: Indeed Yes!

MADELINE: Is it alone, sad, and greedy?

FRED: Yes, that is true

TOPPER: Does it growl, HUMBUG and say BASH and OUT OF MY WAY?

FRED: Yes, yes!!

EMILY: Sitting near Topper. I have found it out! I know what it is, Fred! I know what it is!

FRED: What is it?

EMILY: It's your Uncle Scrooge!

29

FRED: It is! It is Uncle Ebenezer Scrooge! (ALL CHEER) He has given us plenty of merriment, I am sure, and it would be ungrateful not to drink his health. So a toast to “Uncle Scrooge!”

ALL: Uncle Scrooge!

Lights up on Narrator.

NARRATOR: It was a long night, if it were only a night. They saw much of the world and Scrooge learned much from the Spirit.

It was strange that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the Spirit grew older, clearly older. Scrooge had observed this change, but never spoke of it, until they left a children's Twelfth Night party, when, looking at the Spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that his hair was grey and he dragged his feet.

SCROOGE: Are spirits' lives so short?

SPIRIT 2: Visibly aging. I grow very weary, so tired, so worn by a thankless world. My life upon this globe is very brief. It ends tonight.

SCROOGE: Tonight!

SPIRIT 2: Tonight at midnight. Hark! The time is drawing near.

The chimes ring the three quarters past eleven at that moment. Scrooge looks down to observe a third naked foot protruding from the Spirit’s cloak. Scrooge looks at the Spirit, who is now changing in tone and face from a jovial sort to an angry ogre. He seems to have fire in his eyes. The stage grows dark and fog develops.

SCROOGE: Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask, but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirt. Is it a foot or a claw?

SPIRIT 2: It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it. Look here. Two wretched childlike creatures emerge from the folds of the Spirit’s robe. They kneel at its feet and cling on the outside of its garment. Oh, Man. Look here! Look, look, down here!

SCROOGE: Gasps and emits a low scream. Spirit, are they yours? Looks and acts dumbstruck.

SPIRIT 2: They are Man's! And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Doom for you and all of your kind. Beware of the wrath you shall bring upon yourself for ignoring these children and all who like them suffer and die because of your greed!

30

The Spirit cries out, stretching its hand outward. Spirit-like creatures appear, tearing off its crown and garments and draping the whole of the Spirits 2 in a black-hooded robe, transforming the second ghost into the third.

SCROOGE: Shouts as this goes on. Have they no refuge or resource? Is there no salvation no chance for me to right this horrible wrong. Oh, Spirit! Please!

SPIRIT 2: Shouting and screaming over and over into an echo. Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses? Let them die and decrease the surplus population. Away with you, wretched child trying to sing to me! AWAY, Cratchit’s miserable family!

SCROOGE: Yelling. Spirit, do not leave me here! Do not condemn me to darkness for my selfish sins! Do not abandon me … Spirit, do not leave me!

EndStave the Third

31

Stave the Fourth: The Last of the Spirits

The bell strikes twelve. After the Spirit’s transformation before the audiences’ eyes, not only Scrooge but also the audience should gasp at the change of the robust happy Ghost of Christmas Present to a scary figure. Scrooge, who cowers on the floor, looks up and gasps as he speaks. Spirit 3 looks down at Scrooge.

SCROOGE: Mercy, dreadful apparition. Have mercy, Spirit! I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come? The Spirit answers not, but points downward with its black hand. You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us. Is that so, Spirit? Again it points down at Scrooge.

Ghost of the Future! I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me? Again, no reply. The hand is pointed straight before them. Lead on. The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit. The Spirit leads Scrooge to a group of businessmen, some of whom he encountered in his office the day before.

POOLE: I don't know much about it, either way. I only know he's dead.

CHAMBERS: When did he die?

POOLE: Last night, I believe.

THIRD MAN: Why, what was the matter with him? Takes a vast quantity of snuff out of a very large snuffbox. I thought he'd never die.

POOLE: Yawning. God knows.

CHAMBERS: What has he done with his money?

POOLE: I haven't heard. Left it to his company, perhaps. He hasn't left it to me. That's all I know. This pleasantry is received with a general laugh.

POOLE: It's likely to be a very cheap funeral, for upon my life I don't know of anybody to go to it.

32

CHAMBERS: I don't mind going if a lunch is provided. But I must be fed. All share a laugh.

Speakers and listeners stroll away and mix with other groups. Scrooge is obviously perplexed. He knew the men and looks to the Spirit for an explanation.

BUSINESSMAN 1: How are you? Good Christmas!

BUSINESSMAN 2: How are you? Same unto you, my friend!

B1: Well! Old Scratch has got his own at last, hey.

B2: So I am told. Cold, isn't it?

B1: Seasonable for Christmas time. You're not a skater or sledder, I suppose?

B2: No. No. Something else to think of instead of that incorrigible old dead man. Good morning! Good Christmas!

B1: I shall not speak another word about him. He is best forgotten. Have a fine day.

The Spirit leads Scrooge to the shop of Old Joe, a man of about 70 who runs a secondhand business. They encounter the pipe-smoking Joe just as the Charwoman, Laundress and Undertaker’s Man enter his cluttered shop. The three are laughing as they speak, letting Joe declare the value of the bundles they have brought in, scavenged from the late Scrooge.

OLD JOE: Let the charwoman alone to be the first! Let the laundress alone to be the second. And let the undertaker's man alone to be the third.

CHARWOMAN: Look here, old Joe, here's a chance. If we haven't all three met here without meaning it!

OLD JOE: You couldn't have met in a better place. Removes pipe from his mouth. Come into the parlor. We're all suitable to our calling. We're well-matched. Come into the parlor. Joe begins to inspect the items brought in.

CHARWOMAN: What odds, then? What odds, Mrs. Dilber? Every person has a right to take care of themselves. He always did.

LAUNDRESS: That's true, indeed. No man more so.

CHARWOMAN: Very well, then! That's enough. Who's the worse for the loss of a few things like these? Not a dead man, I suppose.

33

LAUNDRESS: No, indeed. If he wanted to keep them after he was dead, the wicked old screw, why wasn't he natural in his lifetime? If he had been, he'd have had somebody to look after him when he was struck with death, instead of lying there, gasping alone by himself.

CHARWOMAN: It's the truest word that ever was spoke. It's a judgment on him.

LAUNDRESS: Open that bundle, Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak out plain. I'm not afraid to be the first, nor afraid for them to see it. We know pretty well that we were helping ourselves, before we met here, I believe. It's no sin. Open the bundle, Joe.

OLD JOE: Alright. Half a crown and not a sixpence, if I was to be boiled it. Who's next? The Laundress’ items are inspected next. Her bundle includes sheets, towels, a little wearing apparel, two silver teaspoons, a pair of sugar tongs and a few boots. Her account is written on the wall or a ledger.

OLD JOE: I always give too much to ladies. It's a weakness of mine, that's how I ruin myself. That's your account. If you asked me for another penny and made it an open question, I'd repent of being so liberal and knock off half-a-crown.

UNDERTAKER’S MAN: And now undo my bundle, Joe. Joe unfastens many knots and drags out a large and heavy roll of dark cloth.

OLD JOE: What do you call this? Bed curtains?

UNDERTAKER’S MAN: Ah! Bed curtains.

OLD JOE: You don't mean to say you took them down, rings and all, with him lying there?

UNDERTAKER’S MAN: Yes, I do. Why not?

OLD JOE: Ah you were born to make your fortune, you were and you’ll surely do it.

OLD JOE: What’s dis? His blankets?

CHARWOMAN: Well of course they dis blankets. He ain't likely to take cold without them, now is he?

OLD JOE: I hope he didn't die of anything catching, eh?

UNDERTAKER’S MAN: Don't you be afraid of that. I ain't so fond of his company that I'd loiter about him for such things, if he did. Joe pulls out a man’s shirt from the bed curtains. Ah. You may look through that shirt till your eyes ache; but you won't find a

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hole in it, nor a threadbare place. It's the best he had, and a fine one, too. They'd have wasted it, if it hadn't been for me.

OLD JOE: What do you mean wasting it?

CHARWOMAN: Putting it on him to be buried in, to be sure. With a laugh.

UNDERTAKER’S MAN: Somebody was fool enough to do it, but I took it off again. If calico ain't good enough for such a purpose, it isn't good enough for anything. It's quite as becoming to the body. He can't look uglier than he did in that one.

Scrooge listens in horror, viewing the four with disgust and sorrow. Old Joe produces a flannel bag with money in it and pays the three.

CHARWOMAN: Ha, ha! This is the end of it, you see. He frightened every one away from him when he was alive, to profit us when he was dead. Ha, ha, ha!

As lights dim on Old Joe’s parlor, Scrooge is led to a bedchamber without curtains or any bedcovers. A bed holds a corpse that is simply covered with a sheet.

SCROOGE: Trembling. I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. Spirit, this is a fearful place. In leaving it, I shall not leave its lesson. Let us go. Still the Ghost points with an unmoved finger to the body. I understand you, and I would do it, to lift the sheet and see the face of him who lies there if I could. But I have not the power, Spirit. I have not the power. If there is any person in the town who feels emotion caused by this man's death, show that person to me, Spirit, I beseech you.

Abrupt and sudden scene change: A well lit room with a mother and children appear. The children play quietly, seated, while the mother is obviously anxiously awaiting someone. She paces, startles, looks about the room and out the door, glances at the clock, etc. She hurries to the door at a knock, and meets her husband, whose face is careworn and depressed.

MOTHER: Is it good, or bad, to help him?

FATHER: Long pause. Bad.

MOTHER: We are quite ruined.

FATHER: No. There is hope yet, Caroline.

MOTHER: If he relents, there is. Nothing is past hope, if such a miracle has happened.

FATHER: He is past relenting. He is dead.

MOTHER: To whom will our debt be transferred?

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FATHER: I don't know. But before that time we shall be ready with the money. And even though we were not, it would be a bad fortune indeed to find so merciless a creditor in his successor. We may sleep tonight with light hearts, Caroline. Lights dim on scene.

SCROOGE: Spirit, is there no tenderness connected with this man’s death?

The Spirit conducts Scrooge through streets of London that are familiar to him. Scrooge looks to find himself but does not. They enter Bob Cratchit's house to find Mrs. Cratchit and the children seated near the fire. Peter is reading to the children. Mrs. Cratchit and the daughters are sewing. They are very quiet.

MRS. CRACHIT: It must be near father’s time.

PETER: Past it, rather. But I think he's walked a little slower than he used to these few last evenings, mother.

MRS. CRACHIT: I have known him walk – I have known him walk with Tiny Tim upon his shoulder, very fast indeed.

PETER: And so have I, often.

CRACHIT DAUGHTER: And so have I.

MRS. CRACHIT: But he was very light to carry, and his father loved him so, that it was no trouble – no trouble. And there is your father at the door! She hurries to meet him. All rush to greet and assist him. He sits and the two young Cratchits sit on his knees, laying their cheeks against his face.

CRATCHIT CHILDREN: Don't mind it, father. Don't be grieved.

CRACHIT: What work you have accomplished?

MRS. CRACHIT: Sunday? You went today, then, Robert?

CRACHIT: Yes, my dear, I wish you could have gone. It would have done you good to see how green a place it is. But you'll see it often. I promised him that I would walk there on a Sunday. My little child! My little child! He breaks down and sobs. The family comforts him. They talk, the girls and Mrs. Cratchit still sewing. Cratchit tells them of the extraordinary kindness of Mr. Scrooge's nephew.

Just a little down you know, I saw Master Fred this day. He is the pleasantest-spoken gentleman you ever heard, he said, “I am heartily sorry for it, Mr. Cratchit, and heartily sorry for your good wife. If I can be of service to you in any way,” he said, giving me his card. “That's where I live. Pray come to me.” Now, it wasn't, for the sake of anything he

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might be able to do for us, so much as for his kind way, that this was quite delightful. It really seemed as if he had known our Tiny Tim, and felt with us.

MRS. CRACHIT: I'm sure he's a good soul.

CRACHIT: You would be surer of it, my dear, if you saw and spoke to him. I shouldn't be at all surprised, mark what I say, if he got Peter a better situation.

MRS. CRACHIT: Only hear that, Peter.

MARTHA: And then, Peter will be keeping company with someone, and setting up for himself.

PETER: Grinning. Get along with you!

CRACHIT: It's just as likely as not, one of these days; though there's plenty of time for that, my dear. But however and whenever we part from one another, I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny Tim – shall we – or this first parting that there was among us.

CRATCHIT CHILDREN: Never, father!

CRACHIT: And I know, I know, my dears, that when we recollect how patient and how mild he was – although he was a little, little child – we shall not quarrel easily among ourselves and forget poor Tiny Tim in doing it.

CRATCHIT CHILDREN: No, never, father!

CRACHIT: I am very happy, I am very happy! Mrs. Cratchit kisses him, his daughters kiss him, the two young Cratchits kiss him, and Peter and himself shake hands. Lights dim on scene.

SCROOGE: Spectre, something informs me that our parting moment is at hand. I know it, but I know not how. Tell me what man that was whom we saw lying dead. Scrooge and the spirit move quickly away from the previous scene.

Scrooge and the spirit again move quickly away from the previous scene. The Spirit points to a graveyard.. 

SCROOGE: Here is a churchyard. The Spirit stands among the graves and points down to one. Who? Scrooge advances toward, it trembling. Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point me, one question: Are these the shadows of the things that WILL be? Or are they shadows of things that MAY be, only? Still the Spirit points to the neglected grave.

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The Spirit is immovable as ever. Scrooge creeps toward it, trembling. He follows the finger and reads upon the stone his own name. Crying, on his knees. Am I that man who lay upon the bed? The finger points from the grave to him, and back again.

No, Spirit! Oh no! Spirit. Hear me. I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse. Why show me this, if I am past all hope? For the first time the hand appears to shake.

Good Spirit! Falling to his knees. Have pity on me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me by an altered life. With hands folded in prayer looking at and touching the gravestone. I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!

Holding up his hands in a last prayer to have his fate reversed, Scrooge realizes the Spirit has disappeared. He rises, turns to the audience, cries out with joy and exits.

EndStave the Fourth

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Stave the Fifth: The End of It

SCROOGE: What is this? Why I’m alive? Am I here? The spirits have done it! Oh Jacob, I will live in the Past, the Present and the Future! The Spirits of all Three shall thrive within me. Heaven and Christmastime be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob, on my knees!

He looks at and touches his bed curtains. They are not torn down! They are not torn down, rings and all. They are here – I am here – the shadows of the things that would have been, may be dispelled. Whirls about with his robe in the air as if to dance a jig. They will be! I know they will.

I don't know what to do! I am as light as a feather, I am as merry as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken man.

There's the saucepan that the gruel was in! There's the door, by which the Ghost of Jacob Marley entered. There's the corner where the Ghost of Christmas Present sat. There's the window where I saw the wandering Spirits. It's all right. It's all true! It all happened. Ha ha ha! I don't know what day of the month it is! I don't know how long I've been among the Spirits. I don't know anything. I'm quite a baby. Never mind. I don't care. I'd rather be a baby. Hallo! Whoop! Hallo here! Bells ring all throughout the theatre. Running to the window, Scrooge opens it and puts out his head.  A boy runs past, whom Scrooge engages in conversation. What's today?

BOY: What say, old man?

SCROOGE: What's today, my fine fellow?

BOY: Today? Why, it’s Christmas Day.

SCROOGE: It's Christmas Day! I haven't missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. Of course they did. They can do anything they like. Hallo, my fine fellow! Hallo!

BOY: Confused. Hallo?!

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SCROOGE: Do you know the Poulterer's, in the next street at the corner?

BOY: I should hope I did.

SCROOGE: An intelligent boy! A remarkable boy! Do you know whether they’ve sold the prize Turkey that was hanging there? Not the little Turkey: the great big one?

BOY: What, the one as big as me?

SCROOGE: What a delightful boy! Delightful. Yes, my buck.

BOY: It's hanging there now.

SCROOGE: Is it? Go and buy it.

BOY: Are you crazy? The man there will not believe me.

SCROOGE: No, no. I am in earnest. Go and buy it, and tell them to bring it here, that I may give them the direction where to take it. Come back with the man, and I'll give you a shilling. Come back with him in less than five minutes and I'll give you half-a-crown.

BOY: I will bring him or call me Jack Sprat! He runs off.

SCROOGE: I'll send it to Bob Cratchit's! He shan't know who sends it. It's twice the size of Tiny Tim!

NARRATOR: Well, have you seen the likes of this man? This is the real definition of a transfiguration. Let us watch more as this miracle unfolds before out eyes.

The boy returns with the poulterer. Scrooge is dressed in his overcoat with hat in hand. He emerges from the house; the Boy and the Poulterer are there.

SCROOGE: Fine fellow, here is your crown.

BOY: What? You said half crown … Thank you sir! He exits.

SCROOGE: Here is the address: Bob Crachitt, Camdentown. You will need a cab for that and a tip. Here you are, sir. Hurry, for it must be there for the Christmas Feast!

POULTERER: They shall be very grateful I am sure. Off the man goes with the turkey.

SCROOGE: Looks at his door. Oh my, this is a DOOR KNOCKER! Made of metal, beautifully sculpted. Does its work efficiently and well? And it contains so many memories. I shall love it as long as I live! What an honest expression it has in its face. It's a wonderful knocker. Scrooge trots into the street and greets people.

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Hallo! Whoop! How are you?  Merry Christmas! Good morning, sir. A merry Christmas to you! He meets Poole and Chambers.

POOLE: Mr Scrooge, I believe?

SCROOGE: My dear sir! Taking him by the hand kindly. How do you do? I hope you succeeded yesterday. It was very kind of you. A merry Christmas to you, sir!

CHAMBERS: Incredulous. Mr. Scrooge?

SCROOGE: Yes, that is my name, and I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon. And will you have the goodness to place into your account … Whispers into Chambers’ ear. It must be a secret, lest the gift have no blessing. Between you and me.

POOLE: Lord bless me, my dear Mr. Scrooge! Are you serious?

SCROOGE: Oh yes and not a farthing less. A great many back payments are included in it, I assure you.

CHAMBERS: My dear sir, I don't know what to say to such munificence.

SCROOGE: You need not say anything, but please come and see me. I’d like that very much.

POOLE: Crying out in joy and thanks. I will!

SCROOGE: Thank you, I am much obliged to you!

He walks along and merrily greets all sorts of people, rich and poor, carolers and shoppers, until he comes to the place of his nephew’s residence.

NARRATOR: Our Mr. Scrooge went to church, if you can believe that, and the ceiling of the magnificent structure did not fall. He walked about the streets and watched the people hurrying to and fro. He patted children on the heads and questioned beggars. He looked about and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk – that anything – could give him so much happiness.

In the afternoon, he turned his steps toward his nephew's house. He passed the door a dozen times before he had the courage to go up and knock. But he made a dash and did it.

SCROOGE: My dear, is your master at home?

SERVANT: Yes, sir.

SCROOGE: Where may I find him?

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SERVANT: The mister and misses are in the dining room.

SCROOGE: This way? Thank you.

SCROOGE: Encountering Fred. Fred!

FRED: Uncle Ebenezer! Why, why bless my soul!

SCROOGE: Indeed, it is I! Your uncle, Scrooge! I pray I have not shocked you into ill health. I have come to dinner if you’ll have me?

Fred: Shocked but delighted. Of course! These are our friends. Introducing. Everyone, my Uncle! You have all heard of him.

SCROOGE: I trust that much of what you have heard of me is not good, but let me try to change your minds. To Fred’s wife. My nephew could only find a wife as beautiful and filled with love as his departed mother. I am so sorry I have missed knowing you. Forgive me.

FRED’S WIFE: Dear Uncle Ebenezer. This is indeed quite a shock, Fred has always wanted this and yet he said you ….

SCROOGE: Were an unbending old tyrant, a screw, a rat! Laughing at himself. My dear, Fred was exactly right. But I had a good friend who has helped me see the grave – yes, the very grave – error of my ways.

FRED’S WIFE: Where is your friend? We must invite him.

SCROOGE: Oh, he will be with us. I pray he is very happy in that he now sees the GOOD in me. Lights dim on Scrooge and Narrator. Scene change to Scrooge’s Office.

NARRATOR: December 26. Scrooge was early at the office. Oh, he was early there. If he could only be there first and catch Bob Cratchit coming late! Ah and he did it. Yes, he did. The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. No Bob. He was a full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time. Scrooge sat with his door wide open that he might see him come in.

Bob’s hat was off before he opened the door. His coat, too. He was on his stool in a jiffy, driving away with his pen as if he were trying to overtake nine o'clock.

SCROOGE: Screaming with feigned anger. Crachit! What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?

CRACHIT: I'm very sorry, sir. I am behind my time.

SCROOGE: Yes you are. Step this way, Mr. Cratchit.

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CRACHIT: Approaches Scrooge. It's only once a year, sir. It shall not be repeated.  I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.

SCROOGE: Now, I'll tell you what, I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore … and therefore … I am going to raise your salary.

CRACHIT: Nearly fainting from fear and then shock. Scrooge has to reach out to keep him from falling. Oh dear, Oh. Oh, my Mr. … Mr. Scrooge. WHAT? What did you say?

SCROOGE: I am going to raise your salary, Bob Cratchit! Laughing very loud while slapping Bob on the back making him cough and sputter. A merry Christmas, Bob! A merrier Christmas than I have given you for many a year. 

I'll raise your salary and endeavor to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon over a Christmas bowl of Smoking Bishop, Bob – a real drink and good food. Light the fire and buy another coalscuttle before you dot another I, Bob Cratchit!

The entire cast emerges slowly onto the darkened upstage, where they stand with Cratchit and Scrooge at center. Stage dark except on Narrator, who is downstage center after coming from his desk. The cast gradually surrounds the Narrator downstage.

NARRATOR: Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all and infinitely more. And to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master and as good a man as the good old city knew. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh and little heeded them. As his own heart now laughed. And that was quite enough for him.

The Narrator, with hat in hand, begins to exit as he speaks. The cast moves downstage into the light looking at the Narrator.

My friends, may my story haunt your houses pleasantly, and no one attempt to hide this story from those who might be frightened that it will change their hearts.

Bob and Scrooge stand surrounded by the cast. You have come from far and near to hear me tell it, and so you have heard it. May it be told for generations. This is the end of my story, and so in the words of one Bob Cratchit:

CRATCHIT: A merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us.

TINY TIM: God Bless us, every one!

SCROOGE: Indicating to audience to join in. Yes, GOD BLESS US, EVERY ONE!

The audience repeats “God bless us, everyone.” All join together accompanied by the instrumentalists singing, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”

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The audience continues to sing with the cast until the Narrator rejoins Scrooge and Crachit to begin bows. The instrumentalists and choir continue to sing, segueing to “Good Christian Men, Rejoice.”

Bows: Ensemble bows, central characters bow, acknowledge musician, acknowledge tech crew, company bow, curtain!

End Stave the Fifth

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