Seven Little Angels (In Poetic Prose)
(The play is headed by a musical prelude of: EL Condor Pasa, around the end of which the drapery is drawn, uncovering an Andean cavern, at the foot of a lush slope, in a brilliant sunlit morning. Seven little holy messengers are found dozing. They are throwing about in their sleep and show up a tinge uneasy, maybe not having the capacity to get into the right resting position, heads on top of wings, and legs on top of shoulders, and little bodies confounding one another. Amid the end measures of the melody, the first little heavenly attendant gets up, gradually and half rises.)
To begin with Little Angel
(Languidly)
Who calls my name? Abandon me rest.
(Climbing not having the capacity to backpedal to rest)
What is it that wakes me so!
I know it is those imps that provide for me such horrendous dreams
I think there may be some night imps around:
They can be a threat. My siblings and sisters mix, and murmur in their slumber, yet what is possible, we were conceived holy messengers, and lost or left by one means or another in this old cave anticipating for them to return; and umpteen hundreds of years, so far!
(The other little holy messengers, who range from six to ten, -yet are obviously much more established as we now know-get to be more fretful in their slumber.)
Up and about! Keeping in mind that some devil come and chomp all of you on the toes!
Second Little Angel
(Half apathetically)
I was having a decent dream!
In the first place Little Angel
(Shaking every one of the other six little holy messengers energetically)
Up and about I say! An Imp I can smell an Imp adjacent!
Second Little Angel
(Climbing completely)
Nights are certain weird. To be a holy messenger and need to rest and dream like people, and apprehension the imps approach, yet we must stick together, spare, together we are solid, alone, we are definitely not.
Initially Little Angel
Goodness, yes, yes you are so right!
Other Three Angels
Goodness, we concur!
To start with Little Angel
It appears to me we ought to get the imps unsuspecting morning, or hold up until the night, and plan to hogtie them to a tree or something, so they can't ever come around and bug us again!
Second Little Angel
(Tending to the next little heavenly attendants, who have now all emerged and are sitting up, wiping the due from their eyes, and extending completely, and prepared to listen tensely to tying the little demon evil spirits.)
Yes in reality, well said! What quality do we have, on the off chance that we are not united? Whose cave is similar to our own? Pleasant and cushy, with no bugs, and particularly insects, or rats, or of whatever other such animals. Also those dreadful little imps, wake us up, or sit on our midsection when we are resting, and send into our heads bad dreams, and afterward escape. The little mammoths. Goodness siblings and our two sisters, let us implore we can tie them, every one of them three, together, until our elderly folks discover us.
To start with Little Angel
The Andes have heard our cry, as has the sky. That cry has run for three thousand years along the valley floors of this area, Peru. Yes, hundreds of years have traveled every which way and heard our requests to God, our melody, and more may pass before our salvage, and just God knows why we are left here, and that will need to accomplish until further notice.
A Short Musical Measure of: El Condor Pasa
To start with Little Angel
Siblings and sisters, our souls are solid and insightful, we are not prefer the imps, we are not prefer phantoms, as they may be, as they are solid together, we are stronger-I trust! Since we are six, to their three. So you see, we have no compelling reason to fear them, yet I sense we do. In spite of the fact that they do make a threat of the night, and appear undefined, and sneak about in the traitorous dull, in the same way as serpents. What's more obviously this has been astounding, and on occasion when they make them interesting sounds, it now and again drive me to the crazy cavern, however we need to simply giggle about it, and we will today, with cheerfulness, shake the delight of the imps energetic session of threatening us, unequivocally!
Second Little Angel
We should Dance! For the winds make such music in the valley beneath.
We should move for the delight of life God provided for us, despite the fact that we don't know why we are whom we are, not human, however heavenly attendants that need rest just, and can't fly, by gosh, I wish our wings would develop a bit greater to convey our uneven little bodies.
(The Little heavenly attendants withdraw from the core of the stage, permitting dance experts to venture in and do a social move of the Andes, for a few minutes, then the greater part of a sudden, they excessively are hindered by a wind that ranges them away, and the music stops, emulated by the presence of an extensive holy messenger, called "The Angel of the Winds".)
Holy messenger of the Winds
Who challenges the little holy messengers, he who does approach, you will have my storm? This is a cautioning, they should stand unscathed, or you taste my anger! Ere, that will approach!
Second Little Angel
Little holy messengers, move your hearts out, don't regard the vacant commotions of the imps, you heard what the blessed messenger of the winds has said. Despite the fact that I'd have trusted he'd stop their terrible gibberish around evening time, as well!
(The little blessed messengers look in wonderment at the Angel of the Winds, and waver, to say all else.)
Initially Little Angel
Yes, how about we all move:
We might move like paradise's star dust, in winter winds!
(The Little blessed messengers continue their move, at the edge of their cave, towards the door, beneath the hollow the Angel of the Winds can at present be seen, and three little imps close-by development with undermining signals.)
Holy messenger of the Winds
Imps, notice these words, they are fast approaching understanding:
Should you hurt one plume on those little heavenly attendants, I now affirm your fate, and offer you bow to everlasting detainment!
Second Little Angel
We require not fear little holy messengers, a forceful Power stands monitor over us!
Blessed messenger of the Winds
I am the Power of this locale, I guide the winds, and solidified crests of the mountains, I have my home in the mists, and when need be I then go forward to purify the district of the individuals who would scourge God's creation.
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