(A rather dark room with heavy draperies and our hero in bed with a rather ornate and heavy candelabrum on a side-board behind, guttering candles and a melancholy air supplied by courtesy of Sancho at bedside, waiting )
Quixote: All search must end in vain, my good squire
Blow the candle out: Let me not bear the glare
The indifferent has brought unasked, and it is fame
They have left, isn’t it a shame?
Sancho: Knight of mournful visage, you were
As far as I remember; Oh cease your murmur
The world loves a hero, yes sir they do
I am Squire Haystack for my girth and you, sir
Quixote (weakly): Knight Beanpole
Sancho in unison: For your lance, That was LOL!
(Knock on the death Chamber:)
Quixote: See if it is Good Ole Devil?
Sancho returns with a Yankee, who is all in a dither
The Capitalist: “Here is a blank check sir, your fame
Deserves due care: Take silver
But leave your fame oh dear sir
for me to exploit,- it is a cinch
(aside) How do I clinch
A deal with the dead, Fie!
Am I all that heartless,
But a dollar is a dollar
I will dangle an offer he can’t refuse
Quixote: Oh you drool at your mouth
In north it must suffice
if a man had bills to buy and sell
But with the dead one genuine emotion
will many sins conceal.
Sancho, give my good fellow a fine cambric
So he shall wipe an honest tear
To please me for the last leave taking.
Stranger: I am a good fellow if you say so.
I shall cry all the more
if you refuse my offer.
Sancho: Gringo! Do I throw you out
Or buy me with a better offer?
The Capitalist: Make your master
Sign on the dotted line and leave
all rights on his name a trademark
I shall show what Capitalism can do.
(A knock on the door)
Commissar Red is my name
I left all good manners with October
Revolution, Death to capitalist pigs
But Sancho, you and I are comrades.
Don Quixote cannot die till
He receives the Order of Lenin
from me in person.
Sancho: ‘What Order that be Red? Is it for my master?
Red: Don Quixote fought single handed,
The Capitalist Ogre Sir Windmill
Stood for oppression and under his tax the poor
Ate nothing but bread of tears.
Comrade Quixote took him on in single combat and won.
Sancho: With a little help from me.
Red: He is so heroic
He could not have a servant to wait on him….
Red: We shall rewrite the history!
So you are an imposter; Be gone this instant!
Sancho to his master: Oh master, Tell me
Shall I uncomrade him with a thrust
Of your trusty lance, or make your dying hour
A ceaseless struggle with two mis-beggotten scum of the earth?