The Sister's Tragedy

Bianca: Antonio's injunction that our sons

Be agents of that justice is absurd.

We shall not waste our unborn progeny

In blood feuds with the sons of father's death.

Alonza: There we agree. We'll avenge him ourselves.

Bianca: Make not sport with me, Alonza. I'll

Not suffer it in thee on this day.

Alonza: Who said aught of sport? Bianca, our

Sex precludes us not from claiming justice.

Since father had no sons to learn swordplay,

He taught the art in secret to we three.

Ten years have passed since Antonio, the great General Siena, fell in honorable battle. At the funeral of his beloved wife, Antonio's four daughters are told that he fell not with honor but beneath the blade of betrayal ad court politics. The youngest and most genteel, dear Bianca, tries dissuade them, but Isabelle, Alonza and Eugenia relent little. They will travel to the capital, in disguise infiltrate the court and discover the truth. Should betrayal be the word, they will enact bloody revenge. But the court is full of plots that not even the sisters have fully imagined and blood will spill no matter what the truth.

Paolo: O, thou art persistent, sister. Thou art

A daughter of God, but cursed with all thy sex's

Stubbornness.

Alonza: 'Tis stubbornness that maketh a good daughter.

Paolo: Put up the sword, good sister.

Women are too inconstant for this craft.

Alonza: Hold, now--are women stubborn or inconstant?

Paolo: I'll no more of sparring with thee tonight.

Alonza: But I shall spar till I am finished, sirrah.

"Classic cadence written by a rare modern playwright. The intrigue and unexpected humor of Hamlet. Exchanges not to be forgotten. Worthy of the Globe; a gift any where."

--Megan Howard, troupe player

The Sister's Tragedy