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In the dark of night, midst hills and winding streams,
A beam descends from yonder moon, agleam,
To fall upon the lake so still and pure—
And down it drifts, an angel’s form demure.
She treads in grace, her steps as soft as dew,
Her flowing hair, in waves of chestnut hue,
Loose curls that catch the light, yet soft they lay,
A silent glow that turns the night to day.
Her eyes, a gentle storm of tender grace,
Hold depths as endless as the starry space.
In modest glow, her fair skin pale and light,
A tranquil soul set free into the night.
The birds grow silent, charmed by her descent;
As nature bows, she wades with calm intent.
With bated breath, she slips beneath the lake,
Her spirit one with all the night awake.
I
(Scene: As the sun sets, Kazimir rides into town, dust settling around his horse’s hooves. With a confident stride, he steps into the dimly lit tavern, drawing the curious eyes of the patrons. His presence fills the room as he approaches the bar with a smirk.)
Kazimir
(boisterously, to the barkeep)
“Pour me the finest brew you have!
Tonight, I’ll make this tavern my own path.
Raise a cup to fate, to fire, to thunder!
Know my name—Kazimir, who strikes like no other!”
(The crowd cheers, emboldened by his commanding tone, and they gather close to hear his words, eager to be swept into his infectious energy.)
Kazimir
“Drink up, brothers, do not pause,
Tonight we sing without a cause!
For gold and pleasure both are mine—
The river flows with brimming wine!”
Crowd (chanting back, clinking mugs)
“The river flows with brimming wine!”
(Kazimir raises his glass to a wizened old man at a corner table, who listens with a solemn nod, recognizing a kindred spirit in this stranger’s wild tales.)
Kazimir
“Old man, look up, don’t hide your eyes!
Remember battle, blood, and skies.
Recall those days of steel and flame,
When war was glory, and glory was fame.”
(The old man’s face softens in nostalgia, and a tear forms at the corner of his eye as Kazimir toasts him, his words both honor and memory.)
(Kazimir begins to flirt with the women in the tavern, his eyes gleaming with charm and desire as he shifts between them, his words woven with laughter and seduction.)
Kazimir
(to a woman nearby, with a playful grin)
“Fair maiden with locks of fire and silk,
You could warm my heart, make it quick to tilt.
And you, with eyes as dark as night,
Let me in to see the light.”
(The women blush, giggling, as Kazimir’s flattery drips with mischief and power, drawing them closer to his irresistible presence.)
Kazimir
“My strength, my wealth, all I bring,
Dance now, sing now, let the night swing!
Let’s drink and feast, till dawn has cracked—
Tonight’s a dream we won’t take back!”
*(The music swells, violins and guitars strumming lively chords as the crowd dances, swept up in the heat of the revelry. Kazimir stands at the center, alive with energy, his eyes blazing as he leads them deeper into the night’s pleasures.)
*(Much later, Kazimir heads upstairs with three women by his side, laughter and whispers fading as they slip into a private room. The scene shifts to an intimate setting, where Kazimir’s charm transforms into intensity as they embrace, each touch, each shared look a celebration of the night’s unbridled passion.)
Kazimir
(whispering to one of the women)
“This night is ours, and yours are mine,
Like battle spoils, like ruby wine.
Take what you will, for dawn is near—
But while it lasts, we conquer here.”
*(Their union is fierce and reckless, an indulgence in freedom and momentary delight. Yet with dawn comes the quiet realization, as Kazimir awakens alone in the room, surrounded by discarded clothes and empty bottles.)
(He sits up, the silence almost mocking him, and a familiar hollow feeling settles in his chest. The echoes of the night now feel distant, leaving only a faint trace of what was. Kazimir looks around, speaking softly as if to himself.)
Kazimir
“Once again, alone I rise,
These hollowed walls, no cheering cries.
What glory left, what weight remains
When dawn breaks ties to night’s sweet games?”
(He holds a nearly empty glass, staring into it with a bitter smile, contemplating the emptiness that lingers even after the most extravagant of nights.)
Kazimir
“Fame? Fortune? Empty lies—
What use are tales beneath morning skies?
These walls bear witness, only they see
How shallow the thrill, how cold is the spree.”
(He dresses, gathering his belongings, casting one last look around the room with a resigned expression. The thrill of the night has faded, and he walks out into the morning, carrying the weight of solitude with him.)
(The scene closes on Kazimir, his shadow long in the early light, a lone figure in the quiet morning, moving forward but leaving a piece of himself behind.)
II
(Kazimir arrives at the church in Zlata Koruna, his horse’s hooves echoing in the empty courtyard as he dismounts and steps forward. The heavy oak doors swing open, and he walks inside, the silence enveloping him like a shroud. Incense fills the air, mingling with soft murmurs of prayer.)
Narrator
Upon his steed with silent tread,
Kazimir’s heart weighed down like lead.
Through ancient doors he crossed alone,
Where sin and faith alike are sown.
(Kazimir looks around, his gaze falling on the dark figure of Pastor Ondrej, who stands waiting by the altar, his face obscured by shadows.)
Pastor Ondrej
(with a polite but cold smile)
“Welcome, stranger, do you seek grace?
Or merely shelter in this place?”
Kazimir
(bowing slightly, his tone carefully respectful)
“A knight am I, of noble kin,
I come to seek release from sin.”
(His words flow smoothly, yet there’s a glint of disquiet in Pastor Ondrej’s gaze, as though he sees through the knight’s polished veneer.)
Pastor Ondrej
(with a sardonic smile)
"Our chapel doors they welcome all,
Be they humble souls or ones who fall.
In troubled times, we guide and lead;
Our Lord accepts each broken creed.”
(Kazimir studies Ondrej, feeling the unsettling, sharp gaze resting upon him, but remains composed. His eyes wander to the aisle, where a young woman, Anežka, kneels beside an elder, helping them with quiet care.)
Narrator
Beside the old, she knelt in grace,
A gentle hand, a peaceful face.
Each movement filled with light so rare,
A soul untouched by darkness’ snare.
(Kazimir watches, caught off guard by her serene, radiant presence. Something stirs within him—a flicker of awe and wonder.)
Kazimir
(murmuring under his breath)
“What strange enchantment takes my breath?
What warmth so pure defies all death?”
(He forces himself to look away, shaking off the strange feeling, but Ondrej notes his interest, a sly smile curving his lips.)
Pastor Ondrej
(leaning closer, voice a low murmur)
“She’s new in town—a novice pure,
With spirit bright and heart demure.
A rare gem in a world so grim,
Yet naïve enough to sway and spin.”
(Kazimir nods with feigned indifference, yet a spark has ignited within him, unsettling and unfamiliar. He leaves the church, but as he steps outside, the image of Anežka remains vivid in his mind.)
Narrator
In silence left, the Pastor stayed,
Watching Kazimir’s shadow fade.
His eyes alight, his thoughts fell keen,
To shadows of what he had seen.
(The stage darkens, leaving Pastor Ondrej alone as memories stir in his mind, giving way to an unsettling recollection of his first encounter with Anežka.)
III
(Late at night, in the church’s damp, dark cellar, candles flicker softly, casting shadows against stone walls. Pastor Ondrej descends the steps, his figure concealed in dim light. He stops just a few paces away from a group of nuns quietly sorting barrels of wine, eyes cast down. Whispers of his true nature circulate in silence, but fear keeps them bound to obedience.)
Narrator
In cellar’s dark where shadows play,
He prowled, a wolf amid the stray.
With callous hands and eyes agleam,
He brought forth fear like some dark dream.
(Ondrej approaches one of the nuns, young and frail, her hands trembling at his presence. At first, he stands near, as if by chance, but soon his eyes transform with a carnal hunger.)
Pastor Ondrej
(in a low, scornful tone)
“Oh, sisters bound by piety,
Your meekness brings such joy to me.
So pure you serve in grace so bright—
Yet here, in shadows, quenched is light.”
(His hand suddenly grabs her by the waist, pressing into her habit with rough fingers. She recoils, but Ondrej only comes closer, forcing her against the wall. His hand roams, lingering on her chest before sliding down toward her thigh.)
Young Nun
(voice trembling, attempting to break free)
“Please, Father… I beg you, no…”
Pastor Ondrej
(with a twisted grin, refusing to release her)
“Shh, dear child, you serve so well.
A vessel for His grace to dwell.”
(He continues his ruthless grip on her body, his hands moving across her legs, making her flinch with fear and revulsion. Tears fill her eyes, but her cries stay locked inside her throat—there is no one here who could help. His face moves closer, the vile smell of wine mingling with his heated whisper.)
Narrator
His fingers pressed with cruel delight,
As shadows deepened in the night.
No mercy held within his gaze—
For him, her fear was but a praise.
(Tears fall down her cheeks, but she dares not scream, her prayers left unheard. Yet just as his hands grew more insistent, a sudden knock resounds from above—sharp and loud, forcing him to pull away, seething at the unexpected intrusion.)
Pastor Ondrej
(furious, letting go of her)
“Who dares disturb this holy hour?”
(He ascends the stairs quickly, leaving the trembling nun alone in the cellar. At the top of the stairs stands Anežka, bathed in soft moonlight, her face radiating innocence and determination.)
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