THE AMELIA PROJECT: POQUELIN (1673)
PIP
The Amelia Project would not be possible without the generous support of our patrons. This episode is dedicated to super patron Blythe Varney who, during a fishing trip will feel a giant tug on the fishing rod and get pulled into the waters, never to be seen again. We will make Blythe Varney resurface as a croupier in a Monaco casino.
Enjoy the episode.
THE CAMPFIRE IN SCOTLAND
JACKIE
This place is beautiful.
MIA
This place is cold.
JACKIE
It’s all- I’m trying not to use the word ‘rugged’.
MIA
And you failed.
JACKIE
Untouched. Stars. The fire. Nobody’s been here but us.
KOZLOWSKI
Do you think so?
JACKIE
The fire’s getting low.
MIA
We’re going to need more wood. I’ll look.
(SHE WALKS AWAY)
JACKIE
You know, talking to you I feel like I’m reading a history book.
KOZLOWSKI
I hope it is a reputable one.
MIA
She loves history.
JACKIE
You should see my podcasts!
MIA
Oh there’s a branch. (GRUNTS) Oh I can’t pick it up, must be a root.
JACKIE
It might just be buried.
MIA
(TRYING TO GET THE BRANCH OUT) Ugh! History is just wars and dates.
JACKIE
No. It’s people! It’s like… it’s like… what is it like? It’s like reading sci-fi but instead of the future it’s the past. But it’s still all stories and cultures and people and they’re different and you never really meet any of them -
MIA
I don’t read sci-fi.
KOZLOWSKI
What do you read?
MIA
Case files. Ugh! This isn’t a root.
KOZLOWSKI
So, to you, I am akin to an item in a museum?
JACKIE
I hadn’t thought of it like that.
KOZLOWSKI
But the joy, to you, is in the intangible. Yet I am tangible.
MIA
Sure buddy, everyone can tange you.
JACKIE
No, I see where you’re going with this -
KOZLOWSKI
This meeting is like an encounter with a thief who cuts the joy of mystery from your purse.
MIA
(STRAINING AND PANTING) Oh did you see where he was going?
JACKIE
You need help?
MIA
No! (BIG GRUNT)
KOZLOWSKI
That is not a root.
MIA
It’s shifting.
KOZLOWSKI
And it is not a branch.
(MIA PULLS SOMETHING A LITTLE WAY OUT)
MIA
HAH.
JACKIE
Yes?
MIA
Yes! Well partly yes.
JACKIE
What is it?
MIA
It’s a… uh… it’s a bar…?
JACKIE
A bar.
MIA
It’s kind of smooth. Oh! Hah.
JACKIE
What?
MIA
This… is the top handle of a shopping cart.
KOZLOWSKI
Nature unspoiled by man’s callous hand.
MIA
Don’t be smart.
JACKIE
Bring that here.
MIA
No.
JACKIE
Why?
MIA
(COMING BACK) Because it’s attached to a shopping cart. Which has been buried. In the earth.
KOZLOWSKI
Amazing!
MIA
Okay History Boy.
JACKIE
Kozlowski, Carl, Langston, Jack, Giuseppe, Captain Dead Eye… How many names have you had?
KOZLOWSKI
I kept a record for a time but… Time did not want my gift.
MIA
It’s like talking to a fortune cookie.
KOZLOWSKI
Time rejects the trivial and accepts the essential.
MIA
(UNDER HER BREATH) Jesus Christ.
JACKIE
So what’s essential?
KOZLOWSKI
Stories!
MIA
Of course it’s stories.
KOZLOWSKI
When you strip everything away, stories are all that remain. I lost my little list of names and now my record is in my stories.
MIA
Are there any names you miss?
KOZLOWSKI
(PAUSE). Well, yes. Yes. I was once a man I found most entertaining to be. But… that name was taken from me.
AMELIA THEME
INTRO
The Amelia Project by Philip Thorne and Oystein Ulsberg Brager, with music and sound direction by Fredrik Baden, and sound Design by Adam Raymonda. Episode 70 - Poquelin - 1673. Guest Episode by Felix Trench.
THE GRAND PLACE IN BRUSSELS, 1673
(MARKET BUSTLE. CARTS. LIVESTOCK. MUSICIANS. BEGGARS, STREET PREACHERS, DISTANT CHURCH BELLS)
(FOOTSTEPS THROUGH THE MARKET)
KOZLOWSKI (V.O.)
My name was: Argan! My profession: barber-surgeon. Quite a renowned one you know. I was… well, we lived in Brussels when the city was under the Spanish crown. We worked in a building in the central square. Yes. It is a big square. You could buy fruits and vegetables and animals and clothes and an awful lot of lace.
MARKET SELLER
Allez allez allez les poooooommes! Elles sont croquantes, elles sont savoureuses, les pommes! Les fraises! Les bonnes fraises, toutes fraiches! Allez allez allez les abricots! Les poires! Une poire, Monsieur Argan?
KOZLOWSKI
Ah, Merci Monsieur!
(MONEY CHANGES HANDS. WE FOLLOW THE FOOTSTEPS, LEAVING THE MARKETSELLER BEHIND)
MARKET SELLER
(FADING.) Manzanas! Manzanas! Muy barato! Smakelijke appels! Aaaaaardbeien!
KOZLOWSKI (VO)
Sometimes there were puppet shows on a little stage. I liked those!
(AUDIENCE APPLAUSE AS THE FOOTSTEPS GO PAST A MAKESHIFT STAGE)
KOZLOWSKI(V.O.)
Our building was on the south side. Tall, thin. Like they are in that part of the world.
It was the headquarters of the Guild of Barbers and I, I was the best barber they had. And the best surgeon! The building had balconies all down the front and the windows were always flung open, no matter the weather, so that everybody could see we were the best! And that I was at the top of the best. The major guilds are all around that square. And on the roof of each building: the guild’s crest. Ours was a golden phoenix. If an important person came through the town and wanted a haircut or their blood leeched, we wanted them to look for the sign of the phoenix - which, by the way, they found at the top of a waterfall of sawdust. There was always a steady flow of it coming from the balconies as we emptied more bags of it on the floors. For hygiene. We employed people on the street to sweep it up.
(SAWDUST POURING FROM BALCONIES BECOMES APPARENT. A STREET SWEEPER AT WORK)
KOZLOWSKI
Dank u wel, Jeroen!
SWEEPER
Meneer.
(WE FOLLOW KOZLOWSKI INSIDE A COZY, WOOD AND BRICK BUILDING WITH DISTANT BARBERING HAPPENING. HE CLIMBS A CREAKY FLIGHT OF STAIRS, GREETING GUILD MEMBERS ON DIFFERENT FLOORS, SLIPPING SLIGHTLY ON ONE STAIR)
KOZLOWSKI (V.O.)
The oldest part of the building was the central staircase, which was narrow and frequently in disrepair. There were barbers at work on every floor.
KOZLOWSKI
Je veux tes nouvelles, Thomas!
BARBER 1
Faut qu’on boit une pinte, Argan!
ON THE SECOND FLOOR.
KOZLOWSKI
Hast du zu Mittag gegessen, Nikolaus?
BARBER 2
Nein, Argan, ich habe mich in diesem Bart verirrt!
THE CAMPFIRE
MIA
You’re speaking in tongues.
KOZLOWSKI
I am not!
JACKIE
Yes you are.
KOZLOWSKI
No. I am giving you the local flavour. It was a multilingual city. The meeting point of different cultures and communities. Very stimulating!
MIA
It would go faster if you didn’t do the voices -
JACKIE
Yes! Cut to the chase!
KOZLOWSKI
Why must I cut to the chase? There was a time when a good camping story wasn’t truly begun until the second log was thrown on the fire.
MIA
I will throw you on the fire if you don’t get to the point of the story.
KOZLOWSKI
That could be fun.
JACKIE
Talk faster.
KOZLOWSKI
(FAST) Later-in-the-day, I-was-in-my-surgery-when…
KOZLOWSKI’S SURGERY
(A KNOCK ON THE DOOR THEN IT OPENS ANYWAY. IT’S THE INTERVIEWER)
INTERVIEWER
You’re in, are you?
KOZLOWSKI
Good afternoon, René.
INTERVIEWER
(SERIOUS) No time for that. Do you like my hat?
KOZLOWSKI
It is a tall hat -
INTERVIEWER
Yes.
KOZLOWSKI
And it has a wide brim -
INTERVIEWER
Yes.
KOZLOWSKI
And a feather.
INTERVIEWER
And a feather! Yes!
BEAT.
KOZLOWSKI
I like it.
INTERVIEWER
Get your own. (CHEERFUL) It’s much colder in here! Are you sure you don’t want to close the balcony?
KOZLOWSKI
Yes, I am sure.
INTERVIEWER
It’ll be the death of you.
KOZLOWSKI
I doubt that very much, René (SIGHS). Perhaps the fire could use some encouragement.
INTERVIEWER
Encouragement, is it? Alright! Come along, fire! Yes, that's it, yes, jump, jump lad! Jump, you can do better!
KOZLOWSKI
(LAUGHS)
INTERVIEWER (CON'T)
Higher, higher up you go! Come on!
KOZLOWSKI
Very good!
INTERVIEWER
It's not working. Ah, I know - how about we give it a few more coals instead.
(THE INTERVIEWER STOKES THE FIRE)
KOZLOWSKI
Now... Did you miss me this morning?
INTERVIEWER
Johannes and Salvacione kept me company. We told jokes through the wall.
KOZLOWSKI
So long as they were not singing.
INTERVIEWER
I think a singsong is nice. Anyway, I didn’t have time to miss you. I’ve just finished up with a poet. A renegade from London!
KOZLOWSKI
Ah! What did he want?
INTERVIEWER
To get away from King Charles’ spies! And a centre parting. He needs to get his affairs in order so he’s booked in a follow-up appointment twelve months from now.
KOZLOWSKI
Ah, I hope he does not wish to pay in poetry.
INTERVIEWER
Of course not. What a silly thing to say! (CHEERFUL) Now, stoke your own fire because I have… a mission.
KOZLOWSKI
What is your mission?
INTERVIEWER
I’m going to find the best waffle in Brussels.
KOZLOWSKI
Exellent! Godspeed, my friend.
INTERVIEWER
W̷̰̼̖̙̳̼̻̹͚̻̙͓͇̔̋͂̓̑̌̀̆̋́̚͝Ȁ̸̪̃͋̉̀͐̅̀͗̐͛̕͝F̸̣͖̺̾͛͜͜F̶̡̧̡͔͈͚̺̱̟̣̝̹̋̀̔̈́̚͘͜͝L̶̖̼̜̩͇̿͂̏̉̈̕E̵̛̛͚͖̪͍̟̲͋̈̇͆̈́̆̽̍̌̊̀͠S̴̹̼̖̹͚̄̆́͋̀̈̏̐̏̂͝
(THE INTERVIEWER LEAVES. HE CLOSES THE DOOR BEHIND HIM. ON THE STAIRS OUTSIDE, A MAN SHOVES PAST. THEY HAVE DIFFICULTY NEGOTIATING THE TIGHT SPACE, SCUFFLE)
(THE DOOR SLAMS OPEN. ENTER POQUELIN)
POQUELIN
Argan, you, Argan!
KOZLOWSKI
Yes?
POQUELIN
Get me Argan!
KOZLOWSKI
How can I be of service?
POQUELIN
You can’t you fool, I must have Argan! Where is Argan?
KOZLOWSKI
Argan the barber-surgeon?
POQUELIN
Yes.
KOZLOWSKI
The one they call Argan the Great?
POQUELIN
Damn you, yes!
KOZLOWSKI
Who works at the top of the Guild of Barbers directly under the crest of the phoenix?
POQUELIN
If you don’t reach your point I will [slice your tongue and feed it to your ears, I will push- .
(POQUELIN THREATENS KOZLOWSKI ELABORATELY UNDER THE BELOW)
KOZLOWSKI (V.O.)
It was cruel to play with him. But fun! I see him so vividly, the man. As if he were in this fire. His hair was wild: the breeze had picked up, and it streamed behind him like a pennant. A rapier at his side swinging wildly. His shoes were worn thin, his clothes were soiled, his beard crawled into his chest.
POQUELIN
Do tell me: do you know him?
KOZLOWSKI
Yes.
POQUELIN
Then where -
KOZLOWSKI
You have not slept for some time, I think.
POQUELIN
What care I for what you think, you frothing toad? I only want the thoughts of Argan. I must have Argan. Get him now!
KOZLOWSKI
A moment sir -
POQUELIN
Please. Please ask him to see me. (SUFFERING) Now!
KOZLOWSKI
Very well. (BEAT). Argan, will you see this man? Why, yes. of course!
POQUELIN
…what.
KOZLOWSKI
Forgive me, sir, I do not mean to deceive. I am Argan. To what do I owe the pleasure?
POQUELIN
You’re Argan?
KOZLOWSKI
I am.
POQUELIN
At the top of -
KOZLOWSKI
At the top of.
POQUELIN
Under the crest -
KOZLOWSKI
- the crest of the phoenix. Please, do not be agitated. What can I do for you?
POQUELIN
(Is it your pleasure to treat me with such contempt? What cruelty! What - ! GAH. No.No time. No time. I have found you. Saints be praised.
KOZLOWSKI
You’ve travelled?
POQUELIN
Yes.
KOZLOWSKI
Ah! I am flattered.
POQUELIN
I do not care.
KOZLOWSKI
And now you have me, what would you of me?
POQUELIN
You must …
KOZLOWSKI
Yes?
POQUELIN
Please.
KOZLOWSKI
Out with it, man.
POQUELIN
You must save my life!
(HE DRAWS HIS RAPIER)
POQUELIN
Or I will take yours.
THE CAMPFIRE
JACKIE
He had a sword to your throat?
KOZLOWSKI
A rapier! Or possibly an épée. I was never good at swords.
MIA
(FLAT) Don’t be so hard on yourself. This happen a lot to you?
KOZLOWSKI
It happens.
JACKIE
Who was this guy?
KOZLOWSKI
His name… was Poquelin! A Frenchman.
MIA
Stick to English.
KOZLOWSKI
Monsieur Poquelin was severely ill. If I didn’t heal him he would -
(QUICK CUT TO KOZLOWSKI’S SURGERY)
POQUELIN
(IN A RAGE) - slit your neck to red strips, cut your ears from your head, and burst your damned belly!
KOZLOWSKI
Whatever I can do -
POQUELIN
Tell me what’s wrong!
KOZLOWSKI
Certainly I will try -
POQUELIN
In the name of good Mary -
KOZLOWSKI
Calm, sir!
POQUELIN
How can I be calm?
KOZLOWSKI
You are in pain -
POQUELIN
Agony!
KOZLOWSKI
You have come far -
POQUELIN
(DISMISSIVE) Yes yes, now heal me!
KOZLOWSKI
I understand -
POQUELIN
You understand nothing, you quack.
KOZLOWSKI
Breathe, sirrah, breathe!
POQUELIN
Don’t patronise me.
KOZLOWSKI
Let us take a moment to become acquainted -
POQUELIN
So that you can fleece me?!
KOZLOWSKI
So that I can diagnose -
POQUELIN
YOU’RE ALL THE SAME!
(KOZLOWSKI YELPS IN PAIN)
KOZLOWSKI: (V.O.) He caught the side of my neck with his sword!
KOZLOWSKI
HELP! HELP! I AM UNDER ATTACK!
HE THROWS WATER AND HERBS ON THE FIRE. POQUELIN COLLAPSES. KOZLOWSKI DRAGS HIM INTO THE BARBER’S CHAIR.
KOZLOWSKI (V.O.)
I took up a jug of water in the one hand, and in the other I pulled at some herbs that were drying in the window. And all of these I threw on the fire! Steam. A big cloud of steam, everywhere. And then… Poquelin fell at my feet. Crumpled! Like a sock! Totally harmless. I relit the fire, put him in the chair, and set a towel to warm by the coals. He looked starved. His beard and hair were brittle, and his breath was… very sour. And when it was warm, I put the towel on his face.
(THE TOWEL FLUMPS ONTO THE FACE AND WITH IT THE SURGERY AND KOZLOWSKI BECOME MUFFLED. WE ARE INSIDE THE TOWEL)
POQUELIN
(COMING TO) Ahhhh... Mmmmm… ‘snice...
KOZLOWSKI
(MUFFLED) Good.
POQUELIN
Dark.
KOZLOWSKI
Yes.
POQUELIN
Comfortable.
KOZLOWSKI
I am most pleased to hear it, sir.
POQUELIN
Like… an egg!
KOZLOWSKI
As you say.
POQUELIN
I’m an egg.
KOZLOWSKI
Of course, sir.
POQUELIN
(MILD GIGGLE) Egg. (PAUSE) Why is it dark?
KOZLOWSKI
I have wrapped your face in a hot towel.
POQUELIN
What?
(HE WHIPS THE TOWEL OFF.EVERYTHING IS CLEAR AGAIN)
POQUELIN
What is this?
KOZLOWSKI
A barber’s chair. My chair! More comfortable than a barber’s floor. (THEN) Are you feeling calmer?
POQUELIN
(SUSPICIOUS) For now.
KOZLOWSKI
I have made an examination of you while you were unconscious. You need sleep, a good meal… But what immediately warrants my attentions, I do not know. So, I must have you tell me your story. Not at swordpoint, please.
POQUELIN
This towel?
KOZLOWSKI
To soften the beard.
POQUELIN
… why?
KOZLOWSKI
Sir! Forgive me for being so direct, sir. But I am a barber and you are unkempt, sir. If it will stay you a few moments from taking my life, I gladly offer you my services gratis. Sir.
POQUELIN
There was steam.
KOZLOWSKI
Yes.
POQUELIN
To render me unconscious?
KOZLOWSKI
Ah, that was the herbs. The steam was to loosen your skin and clean the débris it has acquired.
POQUELIN
(BEAT) You washed my face.
KOZLOWSKI
All part of the service, sir.
(HE BEGINS TO LATHER THE SOAP)
KOZLOWSKI
What is your line of work, Monsieur Poquelin?
POQUELIN
I am an actor.
KOZLOWSKI
Are you good?
POQUELIN
The best.
KOZLOWSKI
Ah. Then I am honoured.
POQUELIN
(HAPPY) Hmph! (THEN) The soap… it has an odour.
KOZLOWSKI
Sandalwood. Do you like it?
POQUELIN
…yes.
KOZLOWSKI
So... Are you performing in Brussels?
POQUELIN
My company is on tour. I ran away.
KOZLOWSKI
Oh, your company?
POQUELIN
Yes.
KOZLOWSKI
Are you also their director?
POQUELIN
Director, actor, writer… choreographer at times… whatever I need for the show to succeed.
KOZLOWSKI
Ah! Most impressive!
POQUELIN
Yes.
KOZLOWSKI
And the rest are as involved?
POQUELIN
I have prayed that God may bless one or two of them with a little initiative but all He does is curse me more.
KOZLOWSKI
Ah... Tell me of this malady.
POQUELIN
We were in Ghent. The Tuesday before last. All through the performance, I was victim … to dread.
KOZLOWSKI
Dread?
POQUELIN
Dread, Mr. Argan, dread!
KOZLOWSKI
Dread.
POQUELIN
(FLATLY) It rested on my brain like a mother hen. It gripped my arms and legs, and strained my voice. As I took my bow, I knew for certain … that I was going to die.
KOZLOWSKI
You gave a bad performance?
POQUELIN
(OFFENDED) I never give a bad performance!
KOZLOWSKI
Forgive me.
POQUELIN
(BAck to calm)As soon as I left the stage the final time, I was immobilised. My stomach, I have never known such pain. It was in my stomach. I fell to my knees like a supplicant.
KOZLOWSKI
How unfortunate! But tell me, how would you describe this pain?
POQUELIN
Enormous!
KOZLOWSKI
Enormous like a sword wound?
POQUELIN
Yes.
KOZLOWSKI
Like a burning fire?
POQUELIN
Yes!
KOZLOWSKI
Like you are being sat on?
POQUELIN
All of them!
KOZLOWSKI
(MAKING A NOTE) All of them… Go on.
POQUELIN
The rest had gone to a tavern so I dragged myself up and clutched the walls of the city until I came to the door of a doctor. It was after midnight. I was loud though, banging until my arms refused. His maid found me at dawn.
KOZLOWSKI
You slept in the doorway?
POQUELIN
Hah! I did not sleep.
KOZLOWSKI
And what happened with the doctor?
POQUELIN
He waved me away. I threw gold at him. He gave me some thick liquid to drink, aniseed and vinegar and ... demons, and then he kicked me out. I walked ten paces before my stomach vouchsafed his medicine to the cobblestones.
KOZLOWSKI
These things happen.
POQUELIN
And still the pain! Pain and sweats, and visions. I saw things which were not there.
KOZLOWSKI
A fevered delusion.
POQUELIN
I found another doctor. He gave me herbs to chew. They barely touched my lips before my stomach rebelled. And so to another. Dragging myself from quack to quack. Until… an angel appeared!
KOZLOWSKI
An angel?
POQUELIN
An old charcoal seller, watching me. She said to visit Argan, the famous barber-surgeon of Brussels. Everyone knows Argan, apparently. So here I am.
KOZLOWSKI
ANd what of your company?
POQUELIN
God give them rot.
KOZLOWSKI
You have had a true adventure. Let me see your stomach now. Where is the pain? Here?
POQUELIN
No.
KOZLOWSKI
Hm... A little higher?
POQUELIN
No.
KOZLOWSKI
How about here?
POQUELIN
(BEAT) What is this? The pain has lifted. I woke in your chair and nothing.
KOZLOWSKI
Ah, good! Then it is easily explained. The tension that you felt in your body was the tension of the journey. Overexertion. It created a conflict in your humors, an excess of yellow bile... Once the show had finished, that tension broke and ran through you! After which, more tension was created by trying to find a cure. It is as if you tightened a string on a guitar more and more until it snapped. Then immediately you threaded a new one and continued to tighten. But a moment of calm reverts everything. Is it not wonderful how a simple shave can balance the body?
POQUELIN
No, no, that can’t be it at all.
KOZLOWSKI
Take a breath. Look at the window. Allow me to apply the soap.
(HE DOES SO)
POQUELIN
Your soap burns my skin.
KOZLOWSKI
(UNCERTAIN) It should soothe you.
POQUELIN
What is that?
(KOZLOWSKI IS PICKING SOMETHING UP)
KOZLOWSKI
Do you like it? An invention of my own making. The handle is bone and if I press here…
(SCHWIIING)
It is a straight razor which folds in on itself. This way I may carry my tools safely. And this is for the sharpening.
(HE SHARPENS IT ON A LEATHER STROP)
POQUELIN
Is seems sharp enough.
KOZLOWSKI
The sharper the blade, the easier it glides over your skin. I do not want to hurt you. Now, hold still please.
(SHAVING. POQUELIN IS QUIET FOR A MOMENT. SHAVING SOUNDS)
POQUELIN
I am relieved to be rid of this soap. It seemed to penetrate my cheeks with fire.
KOZLOWSKI
Hold still please.
POQUELIN
There are many more stories - be it when I performed for kings or commoners. The curse does not discriminate. Wherever we went, something. A pain in the gut. A trembling hand. A fire in my throat. And the knowledge that I was going to die. In Ghent, the pain did not leave even when the show was over. For a week now, I have been followed by nothing but pain and fear. I have seen doctors everywhere. Men in alleys peddling poultices and wax pills, surgeons to kings, midwives, soothsayers, alchemists… quacks! Quacks all of them! Every one a damned liar! Tell me what is this ailment! Ow!
KOZLOWSKI
Ah! Forgive me, sir, I have nicked the end of your nostril -
POQUELIN
I’VE LOST MY NOSE.
KOZLOWSKI
No…
POQUELIN
MY NOSE.
KOZLOWSKI
You have it -
POQUELIN
MY NOSE! MY NOSE! MY NOSE!
KOZLOWSKI
Sir, look in the mirror!
(HE SWIVELS THE CHAIR AROUND)
POQUELIN
(AMAZED) The chair, it moves! You moved right round in a circle!
KOZLOWSKI
Ah, another of my little inventions. A chair that is useful for a barber.
POQUELIN
It is a delight. May I?
KOZLOWSKI
Ah! Go ahead.
(HE SWIVELS IN THE CHAIR)
POQUELIN
Weeeee! Weeee! Ahahahahaha!
KOZLOWSKI
And look, look in the mirror as I…
(HE LAUGHS)
(HE PUMPS A FOOT PEDAL)
POQUELIN: By Mary’s skirts, you can change its height! You made this?
KOZLOWSKI: Yes, with a little help from Salvacione.
POQUELIN: Extraordinary.
KOZLOWSKI: Thank you, sir.
KOZLOWSKI LIGHTS A WAX TAPER IN THE COALS.
POQUELIN: What is that you’re holding to the coals?
KOZLOWSKI: A ball of wax on a stick.
POQUELIN: (APPREHENSIVE) For my face?
KOZLOWSKI: Yes.
POQUELIN: You intend to singe off the remaining hairs so that they might be sealed.
KOZLOWSKI: You have seen one before. It is partly that and also a useful diagnostic test. May I proceed?
POQUELIN
(UNDER HIS BREATH) You may-
KOZLOWSKI
Nothing to be afraid of.
HE SINGES ONE OF POQUELIN’S HAIRS.
POQUELIN
My face! MY FACE! YOU DAMNED DEVIL OF A SO-CALLED BARBER HAVE BURNED OFF MY SKIN! MY FEATURES ARE NOUGHT BUT WHITE BONE AND HANGING FLESH. IS THIS HOW YOU WOULD HAVE ME DIE?
HE JUMPS UP AND GRABS THE RAZOR.
KOZLOWSKI
My razor -
POQUELIN: (CLOSE) - is close to your throat.
KOZLOWSKI: (CLOSE) Sir, please!
POQUELIN: (CLOSE) You or I, is it? Only one shall live?
KOZLOWSKI: (CLOSE) Your face is unchanged!
POQUELIN: (CLOSE) You lie! You’ll note the blade is unsheathed.
KOZLOWSKI: (CLOSE) I could show you how it sheathes.
POQUELIN: (CLOSE) How poetic that the end of the great Argan is to be viewed by the crowds below? Onto the balcony!
HE PUSHES KOZLOWSKI OUT AGAINST THE BALCONY RAIL. THE SOUNDS OF THE SQUARE BUBBLE UP FROM BELOW.
KOZLOWSKI
There is no need for that!
POQUELIN
No quack will mutilate me -
KOZLOWSKI: Wait!
POQUELIN: WHAT?
KOZLOWSKI: Before you push me over the rail, grant me one final act. I could not forgive myself... It would be a betrayal of everything I believe!
POQUELIN: What? What? What is it?
KOZLOWSKI: (STILL UNDER PRESSURE) To apply the aftershave, of course. See, I have a bottle of rosewater here on my belt which will add a colour to your cheek -
HE UNCORKS A LITTLE BOTTLE AND POURS SOME LIQUID IN HIS HAND.
POQUELIN: And eat my fleeeeesh - !
KOZLOWSKI PATS THE LIQUID INTO HIS CHEEKS.
KOZLWOSKI
It did not!
POQUELIN
It did not.
KOZLOWSKI
Yes. Your face is as handsome as a newborn day.
POQUELIN
Oh. Have I acted foolishly?
KOZLOWSKI
You are holding me over a balcony.
POQUELIN
Have I?
KOZLOWSKI
Foolishly? No. Extravagantly? Perhaps. Entertainingly? It is clear you are a very great actor. As for me, even though I have lost feeling in my shoulders, I am pleased; the burn test confirmed a theory.
POQUELIN
You have a theory?
KOZLOWSKI
Yes.
POQUELIN
Of my condition?
KOZLOWSKI
Yes.
POQUELIN
Tell me, please. Tell me now!
KOZLOWSKI
Everything! Everything! I will tell you everything. If… you can consent to not dropping me on the cobbles.
POQUELIN
What?
KOZLOWSKI
Shall we return to the warmth of the fire?
POQUELIN
I’m not saying I trust you.
KOZLOWSKI
Fine, fine.
POQUELIN
I will hold this razor ready.
POQUELIN RELAXES HIS GRIP KOZLOWSKI STRAIGHTENS UP.
KOZLOWSKI
If that gives you a sense of calm, then I am supportive. Shall we?
THEY GO IN.
KOZLOWSKI
Do you mind if I sit in the chair? For some reason my back is hurting.
POQUELIN
(NON COMMITTAL NOISE).
KOZLOWSKI SITS.
KOZLOWSKI
Ahhh that’s nice.
POQUELIN
So. What is it?
KOZLOWSKI
(DEEP BREATH) Your affliction is a most terrible one.
POQUELIN
I knew it.
KOZLOWSKI
You are in pain… and then you are not!
POQUELIN
Yes.
KOZLOWSKI
You suffer greatly, and yet your symptoms leave no outward sign of having been there at all. You are a hypochondriac.
POQUELIN
A what?
KOZLOWSKI
A hypochondriac!
POQUELIN
Hipoponderous.
KOZLOWSKI
Hypochondriac.
POQUELIN
Hypercolander.
KOZLOWSKI
Hypochondriac.
POQUELIN
Poseidon’s horse?
KOZLOWSKI
That would be hippokampos. Hypochondriac! You have a chronic anxiety of ill health - that feeling of dread, yes? But then, the unfairness of it, you are a most talented storyteller whose every sinew is primed to make the untrue true. And so your body takes these fears and does what is most natural to it: spinning them into reality!
POQUELIN
It is all in my mind?
KOZLOWSKI
No! Not all.
POQUELIN
My malady’s imaginary?
KOZLOWSKI
When the root of the vine is fear, the grapes are plump with torment.
POQUELIN
You think I am imagining it? I imagine nothing!
KOZLOWSKI
No, listen sir, please - What I am trying-
POQUELIN
It is not enough that you cannot diagnose my illness, you must insult me too. A fake. A liar. I’ve had enough of -
KOZLOWSKI
You are no fake! No liar! Not at all. The pain stems from your mind but it is quite as real as if you had eaten a poisoned meal or been run through with a poisoned sword.
POQUELIN
And why would I cause myself such hurt?
KOZLOWSKI
Yes! Exactly! That is the question we must ask. And If I were to guess, it is because you are too successful.
POQUELIN
Too… successful? I see, a scam. This is some way to milk me of my purse.
KOZLOWSKI
You are the great actor Poquelin! Beloved of commoners and royals alike. Every performance must be as great as the last. Greater even! Is that not the case?
POQUELIN
After a fashion.
KOZLOWSKI
I cannot imagine feeling this pressure on the nerves. I fancy it is a constant weight pushing down on every corner of your body. No, that is not true… I have a good imagination. I can imagine it. And it is awful! A constant cry from your body in the shape of phantom ailments. This life is too much. It asks you for peace. It says stop, stop, stop!
(THEN POQUELIN COLLAPSES. KOZLOWSKI RUSHES OVER)
KOZLOWSKI
Monsieur Poquelin. Monsieur Poquelin!
POQUELIN
(UNDECIPHERABLE MUTTERING)
KOZLOWSKI
Your lips move. Oh, oh, you had me worried. Shall I fetch you a drink?
POQUELIN
(CLOSE) He is right.
KOZLOWSKI
What?
POQUELIN
You, you’re right. None of this life suits me. If only I had learned to listen to my body I would not be in such agony. Success. Greater and greater success. It is a siren song which drowns all other thought. Nothing can be done? In your… prognosis, I wreck my body or I lose my livelihood?
KOZLOWSKI
Not necessarily. As it happens, I have another line of work which may be of interest to you. The barbering, although an entertaining and useful stream of revenue, is, ultimately, a front!
POQUELIN
QUACK!
KOZLOWSKI
Shh. It is a front for an organisation. To understand it, you must understand that many important people pass through the city of Brussels. Guild members, visiting dignitaries, important merchants… in brief, people with power and money. The troubles of people with extreme power need extreme help. So… we kill them!
POQUELIN
WHAT?
KOZLOWSKI
Not entirely. We simulate their death, well, just as your spirit simulates your pain.
POQUELIN
I cannot use these strange services you provide. I have a public. I cannot die, my legend is too great!
KOZLOWSKI
To keep your legend alive, we will craft a legendary death. Your death will live in words. They are your tools, are they not? You live in words, you die in words. You will write… a play.
POQUELIN
Another one.
KOZLOWSKI
But this one… it will be extraordinary! This, this will be your final spectacle. Everybody will see it. The news must spread like plague. Infectious and deadly. But only to you! Commoners and kings, that’s who you play for, eh?
POQUELIN
Yes.
KOZLOWSKI
There will be laughter. And music. And dancing.
POQUELIN
(GETTING INTERESTED) We could write a ballet into it.
KOZLOWSKI
You will write two ballets into it! This must be the biggest event ever! The Guild will help of course, spreading the word through our network of the event of the century. People will travel from far away to watch. They will want to be seen to see it. You will open, it will be a triumph! And you will play again! And again! And then - !
POQUELIN
Yes?
KOZLOWSKI
On the third, perhaps the fourth night, with the theatre full and at the climax of the play, that is where you die!
POQUELIN
How?
KOZLOWSKI
A heart attack. A pistol shot the upper circle. A harpsichord falls on you. We will work it out! The important thing is that there are witnesses, and important ones! The news will spread. It will become a story. A legend! There will be sadness. Mourning. A nation united in tears for the loss of their greatest hero.
POQUELIN
Greatest hero, you say?
KOZLOWSKI
The golden child with the silver quill, gone too soon, whose words are remembered forever as an emblem… of beauty.
POQUELIN
And you think you can guarantee this?
KOZLOWSKI
Monsieur Poquelin... I promise that if you put your trust in The Guild of Barbers, we will work to ensure that the French tongue is remembered as the language of Poquelin!
POQUELIN
I like the part where my name is remembered forever.
KOZLOWSKI
Good. Me too!
POQUELIN
And what do I do after this?
KOZLOWSKI
Oh, well… Mountain air is good for the nerves! We will find you somewhere in, let’s say, the Swiss Confederation to begin again. Life is better on an Alp.
POQUELIN
Let’s say I, God save me, do this. Life must have meaning. Even new life.
KOZLOWSKI
Well, you could work for me… for the Guild… I am frequently toying with new ideas - the foldable razor, the turning chair, the carbonated water…
POQUELIN
The what?
KOZLOWSKI
I will disrupt water! (THEN) These inventions can be useful to others, and lucrative for the Guild. However, I do not have the time to personally travel to every customer’s house and give them tuition on its correct usage. What I need is somebody to write a manual of instruction which can be distributed with the products. I will teach you each invention and then you will write the manuals and use the Guild’s printing press to create multiple copies which can be easily distributed.
POQUELIN
…whatever I write, it must be beautiful.
KOZLOWSKI
Yes, it must be beautiful - teaching by stealth. Your writing will be seen by everyone! Is that enough meaning for your life?
POQUELIN
Yes. Yes, yes God damn your eyes, I love it! A new artform, now that is meaning! Argan, you and I, we will create the world’s most beloved artform! I will be immortal. But this play, this grand play you describe, what will it concern?
KOZLOWSKI
Well -
POQUELIN
Quiet, damn you, I have it! Take inspiration from life, of course. A tragic subject told with hilarity! I will write the story of a man plagued by ailments which come only from the stresses that surround him!
KOZLOWSKI
Yes, that will -
POQUELIN
An imaginary invalid!
KOZLOWSKI
A fine subj-
POQUELIN
I must begin. I cannot stop to talk. There is too much to work on, the audience await!
KOZLOWSKI
Then go, go!
POQUELIN
It will be spectacular!
KOZLOWSKI
Fly!
POQUELIN
Two ballets!
KOZLOWSKI
I will keep the Guild’s ears to the ground. When we hear the announcement of the new show of Poquelin, we will be swift to action.
POQUELIN
No, no, do not look for Poquelin, you must look for my stage name or this will not work.
(HE OPENS THE DOOR)
KOZLOWSKI
Your stage name? What is that?
POQUELIN
(LEAVING) MOLIERE!
PIP
Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first the credits.
This episode was dedicated to Blythe Varney and featured Felix Trench as Moliere, Hemi Yeroham as Kozlowski, Alan Burgon as The Interviewer, Jordan Cobb as Jackie Williams, Erin King as Mia Fox, Robin de Coq van Delwijnen as the Flemish market seller and sweeper, Stephan Gerard as the the French market seller, Vincent Zuresco as the French barber and Philip Thorne as the German barber.
The episode was written by Felix Trench with story editing and direction by Oystein Ulsberg Brager and Philip Thorne, sound design by Adam Raymonda, music by Fredrik Baden and dialogue editing by Philip Thorne and Adam Raymonda . Production assistance by Maty Parzival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen.
If you are supporting the show via patreon, thank you so much, without you we couldn’t keep doing this.
And a shoutout to our super patrons that’s Celeste Joos, Heat 312, Rodney Daliege, Jem Fidyk, Alban Ossant, Amélie and Alison, Stefanie Weittenhiller, Rafael Eduardo Wefers Verastegui, Aislinn Brand, Alison Thro, Patricia Bohnwagner, Bryce Godmer, Cliff Huizenga, Michael West, Tom Putnam, Deanna Berchenbriter, Tim McMackin, Blythe Varney, Parker Pearcy, Sophy H, Nitali Arora, Emre çebi, Posh Baby Rentals Florida, Lee & Vee Hewerdine, Mr Squiggles, David Livingston, Toni Fisher, Tibbi, Florian Beijers, Courtney Mays Rensen, Sunny D. Anomaly, Boo, Jacqui Bee, Helia Hase and liebre-de-acónito!
If you’re not yet a patron but would like to support the show and access perks and bonus content, visit amelipodcast.com and click on support the show. If you can’t support us financially, you can also help by rating and leaving a review on your podcast app or on social media. Speaking of social media, we are now also on Bluesky, so if you want to be one of our very first followers there, we would be delighted to see you there. You can also find us in all the usual places, Alan Burgon runs our Instagram which is full of great visual content, and Maty Parzival runs our Tumblr which is full of memes, polls and ducks.
And now the epilogue.
THE CEMETERY.
INTERVIEWER
And that was our time in Brussels! When we went by the name The Guild of Barbers. Yes, pulling teeth, cutting beards, and helping people disappear.
ALVINA
Did you really just spend an hour telling me about the day you went looking for a waffle?
INTERVIEWER
And what a pay off! Soft, chewy, with little pockets of sugar that erupted like volcanoes in the mouth! A good waffle isn’t a snack, it’s a higher plane. Oh, good lord, I feel emotional. Also Kozlowski met Moliere that day.
ALVINA
What?! Moliere? Moliere as in-
INTERVIEWER
...as in Jean-Baptiste Poquelin Moliere. The playwright.
ALVINA
And you chose to tell me about a waffle?!
INTERVIEWER
Well not just any waffle!
ALVINA
Yes, yes I know enough about this bloody waffle! You chose to tell me about a waffle when you could have told me about Moliere?!
INTERVIEWER
Yes!
ALVINA
WHY?!
INTERVIEWER
Well because the story of the waffle is much more memorable!
ALVINA
Oh for heaven's sake! Why did Kozlowski meet Moliere?! To give him a shave? To pull a tooth or-? ...you faked his death, didn't you!
INTERVIEWER
Well yes, what else? Kozlowski went by Argan until Moliere stole the name and put it in a play.
ALVINA
Le malade imaginaire
INTERVIEWER (CON'T)
The same play I ended up watching from above the stage the evening he pretended to die from a coughing fit in front of a full house.
ALVINA
Why were you above the stage?
INTERVIEWER
Well yes, Kozlowski sent me up there to hold on to the backup plan.
ALVINA
Which was?
INTERVIEWER
A harpsichord. On the head. Well but you see the problem is - everyone looks the same from up there. I was terrified of hitting the wrong actor. So we made the costume bright green!
ALVINA
Wait a minute - aren't actors scared of the colour green? Is that where the superstition comes from? Because Moliere died that night - well, not really died but- So, anyway! What became of Moliere?
INTERVIEWER
Well, we ended up sending him our printing press. And by we I mean muggins here had to figure out how the bloody hell you get a printing press up a swiss alp.
ALVINA
A printing press? Why did we have a printing press?
INTERVIEWER
Ah! Well. Funny you should ask, because it’s an awfully good story…