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Matthew Freeman is a Brooklyn based playwright with a BFA from Emerson College. His plays include THE DEATH OF KING ARTHUR, REASONS FOR MOVING, THE GREAT ESCAPE, THE AMERICANS, THE WHITE SWALLOW, AN INTERVIEW WITH THE AUTHOR, THE MOST WONDERFUL LOVE, WHEN IS A CLOCK, GLEE CLUB, THAT OLD SOFT SHOE and BRANDYWINE DISTILLERY FIRE. He served as Assistant Producer and Senior Writer for the live webcast from Times Square on New Year's Eve 2010-2012. As a freelance writer, he has contributed to Gamespy, Premiere, Complex Magazine, Maxim Online, and MTV Magazine. His plays have been published by Playscripts, Inc., New York Theatre Experience, and Samuel French.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Sample of the text of Genesis

In preparation for the release of Playing with Canons, I thought I'd share a bit of Genesis on this blog. Below is some of "The First Murder (Cain and Abel.)" As you'll note, it's a hodgepodge of one of the existing cyle plays and my own text. One thing I adore about the original plays is how simple and straightforward they are... there isn't too much meandering in poetry.

This takes place just after their tithe, and just prior to the murder itself.


Abel. Cain, this not worth one leek!
Thy tithe should burn well without smoke.
Cain, brother, that is ill done.

Cain. No, but go we hence soon;
And if I may, I shall be
Where God himself shall not see.
There will be none who may spy
With eye or other means, not even Him
Inside that room.

None know of places out of His sight.
But I will find them, and respite.

Abel. Dear brother, I will fare
On the road where our betters are
To look out for all, empty or full.

Cain. Shouldst thou go? Nay abide a while.
We have yet a fearless bone to pick.
Hard! Speak with me before thou go.
What, dost thou think to ‘scape so?
No, stay! I owe thee a foul play
And now is the time that you’ll repay.

Abel. Brother, why are you so in ire?

Cain. Why burns thy purse in full a fire?
While mine, while offered, barely smoked
Right as it would us both have choked?

Abel. God’s will, I believe, it were
That mine did burn so clear.
If thine chokes, am I to blame?
Know you nothing, brother
Or the world as’t works?
Of kindness repaid in kind
And likewise selfishness?
Faith resides inside the air
And not inside the curious
Of question and of matter.
You seem to hate too much
Both kin and King alike.
You excuse failures crutch
To make your fire not light.

Cain. Yea! And thou shalt repay my shame:
Never before has one man’s burden
Felt so assured to kill for certain.
None in Paradise need make divide
And while outside, less must reside.
With cheek-bone straightway
Shall I thee and thy life divide....

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