AD SANCTOS

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AD SANCTOS
a choral performance work
bpNichol/words
Howard Gerhard/music
The Martyrology
Book 9
1986-87

Coach House Press
Toronto

Text © 1993 the Estate of bpNichol
Music © 1993 Howard Gerhard

Published with the assistance of the Canada Council, the Ontario Arts Council
and the Department of Communications.
The writing of Ad Sanctos was made possible by a grant from the Music Theatre
Development Program of the Ontario Arts Council.
Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data
Nichol, B. P., 1944-1988
Ad sanctos : The martyrology, book 9
ISBN 0-88910-454-9
I. Title. II. Title: The martyrology, book 9.
PS8527.I32A741993 C811'.54 C92-095508-8
PR9199.3.N48A74 1993

for R. Murray Schafer & John Beckwith

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CONTENTS
bpNichol
preface / 9
bpNichol
Ad Sanctos: words / 13
Howard Gerhard
Ad Sanctos: music / 51
bpNichol
production notes / 299

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PREFACE
bpNichol

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ADSANCTOS
a music/theatre piece with Howard Gerhard
ACT I:

We hear the tail end of a play (last scene of a pageant) as a final cart loaded
with actors rumbles out of the area we are watching in. There is a distant flourish of trumpets, a moment's stillness, and then a troupe of 4 or 5 rag-tag players
comes rushing into the space. The leader calls on us to wait, not to leave just
yet, that as a special treat they will put on a small performance for us. He
explains they are poor pilgrims on their way to be buried by the tomb of their
favorite saints and that they seek, thru pleasing us with their performance, to
find funds for the long journey. Even as he talks more of the same group straggle onto stage until there are some twelve people assembled there. One of them
now begins a small sermon on the virtue of virtue but is frequently interrupted
as there is much arguing among themselves as to what constitutes virtue and a
fair amount of name-calling re the shenanigans X or Y has been up to in the last
few days. The narrator becomes anxious that we will become bored and tries to
hold our attention with jokes, etc. and then persuades various members of the
troupe to come forward and tell their story. This they do with their interjections
and corrections from the other members standing around, but this way some
four or five stories get told and some notion of the saints they go to be buried
by. But as this information accumulates there is new consternation, the sudden
realization that there are simply too many saints, that those going to the nearest
ones (as it were) will reap all the benefits of the struggle but that others will be
left out, end up travelling on their own thru hostile lands. A literal fight breaks
out with much punching and name-calling. But out of this a compromise is
arrived at; they will all travel to be buried by the tomb of the same saint. Now it
remains to choose which saint, a saint they can all agree on. The list is quickly
winnowed down to only one obvious choice—St. Valentine. Everyone is happy
with this. The man who first spoke to us thanks us for our attention and kindness and says: "When next we meet may it be in Rome by the tomb of St.
Valentine." Everyone exits through the crowd asking for donations.
ACT II:

Members of the same troupe come staggering in. The same man says to us:
"Ah, we meet again. We have travelled far looking for this grave." He goes on
to say they draw near their goal and different members are out looking for the
appropriate grave. We hear different feelings from different members of the
group about the pleasure of finally being able to rest at the foot of St. Valentine
etc., more about their desires for this life and the next, the things that have
drawn them on this pilgrimage. One of the people who've been searching comes

rushing in from the left to say that he has found the grave. Mighty shouts &
hosannas go up & the whole group begins a song of praise. As they prepare to
exit towards the grave another member of the troupe comes rushing in from the
right to say she has found the grave, a different grave from the first! Consternation and despair. Arguments & dissensions begin as to which is the true grave
and which, therefore, the one they should die & be buried by. The group divides
into three camps: one exits to the right to die & be buried by the second grave;
the third, three people, remains in the middle of the stage. If the heart is divided
even here, then this is a sign. There is no peace in escaping into death. The three
turn and head off, back into the world.
bpNichol
draft, September 1986
some notes on the libretto, i try to write a fairly unaccented line when writing
librettos (as opposed to my poetry where i work to control the cadence—and
hence accent, etc.—to a high degree), the point being to allow the composer the
greatest freedom of movement possible, the AD S ANCTOS libretto moves back
and forth between straight speech and the sung sections, the encompassing fiction of the chorus singing to raise money for their pilgrimage allows this to happen naturally, there are differences between the text of the libretto and Howie's
score, differences he and i have discussed as he's gone along, there is one major
change to come in the libretto i.e. the inclusion of the conductor as a character, i
was hoping we could get away without a conductor but it's become obvious we
can't, and i don't want the conductor to stand outside the piece, it's important
that he/she be included as part of the dramatic action of the work.
bpNichol
October 1987

AD SANCTOS: WORDS
bpNichol

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Setting
A public gathering place near the Flaminian Way, Rome.
Time
Unspecified.
Characters
i, carries a pitch pipe
she, a woman, carries wood blocks
he, a man, carries a penny whistle
we, carries a snare drum
they, carries cymbals
david, a man, carries a triangle
a writer, carries sticks
a reader, carries a ratchet gourd
st agnes, a woman, carries a slide whistle
st reat, a younger man, carries a bass drum
st ranglehold, a man, carries a tambourine
st orm, an older man, carries glass chimes

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fading bars of a trumpet piece are heard, the distant shuffling of feet, and
T he
perhaps even a few last stragglers are seen to be exiting—all towards the
stage left side of the playing area.
A moment passes in which nothing happens and then i, a slight figure in tattered clothing, rushes out from the stage right side of the playing area, looks out
at the audience and then, looking back, shouts out:

i:
They're still here!!
i disappears again stage right. We hear a shuffling of feet, a murmur of voices,
the blowing of a pitch pipe, and then i leads a rag-tag assemblage of tattered,
worn, filthy human beings, all humming their beginning notes, out into the playing area. The saints have their flags raised high and each of the characters with
a light is holding it up and waving it slowly back and forth, i looks out at the
audience and announces unctuously:

i:
Ladies and gentlemen! For your further enjoyment some divertissements of a moral nature to incite the virtue of charity in your hearts.
i takes off a hat i has been wearing and holds it out as if asking for money, and
then turns the gesture into a small bow and announces the title:
i:

"A Singer's Hell: An Instruction on the Nature of Sanctity and
Scarcity."
The singers, who have been humming &/or singing their tones all along, now begin.
i:

So shall

she:
the world
he:

goon,

we:
To good
they:
malignant,
david:
to bad

a writer:

men
a reader:
benign,
st reat:
Under
st. agnes:
her own
st. ranglehold:

weight

st. orm:
groaning
The singers' faces are wreathed in anguish as they sing. They begin to
writhe like tableaus from Dor6's engravings of Milton's visions of Hell.
As this piece unfolds, i conducts it as well as singing a part, occasionally
casting anxious looks back at the audience, i's anxiety is heightened each
time i looks back; i's becoming convinced the piece is bombing completely. Finally i steps towards the front of the playing area and looking out
asks:

i:

Is all this clear? We've been accused of a bit of obscurity in
some of the towns we've passed thru and...
i's voice trails away, i looks back at the singers and then, going back, begins to
whisper in their ears, one by one, suggesting a change to something lighter,
something sprightlier. And one by one they begin to shift into a totally different
mood and temperament.
chorus:
we are going to
we are going to
we are going to

saints
saints
saints

we are going to
we are going to
we are going to

saints
saints
saints

sacred saints
fabulous & faithful
saints of language saints of spirit saints
of song of being blessed
we are going to
we are going to
we are going to

saints
saints
saints

we are going to
we are going to
we are going to

saints
saints
saints

sacred saints (saints)
fabulous & faithful
saints (saints) of language saints (saints)
of spirit saints (saints) of song of being blessed
yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes
we are going to
we are going to
we are going to
we are going to
we are going to
we are going to

saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints

fabulous & faithful
sacred saints
saints of language saints of spirit saints
of song of being blessed
we are going to
we are going to
we are going to

saints
saints
saints

we are going to
we are going to
we are going to

saints
saints
saints

sacred saints (saints)
fabulous & faithful
saints (saints) of language saints (saints)
of spirit saints (saints) of song of being blessed
yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes
saints saints saints saints saints saints saints saints
chorus:

chorus:
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints

they:
what is that which is
what is that which was
what is that which will be
blessed
who is that which is
who is that which was
who is that which will be
sainted
where is that which is
where is that which was
where it that which will be
translated
why is that which is
why is that which was
why is that which will be
divine

saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints

saints
he:
saints
saints
saints
saints
saints
signs
saints
give me signs
saints
saints
saints
saints
they & he:
saints
saints
saints
saints
give us signs
saints
saints
saints
saints
they, he & she:
saints
saints
saints
saints
give us signs
give us signs
saints
saints
saints
saints
they, he, she & we:
saints
saints
saints
saints
give us signs signs signs
saints
saints
saints
saints give us signs give us signs give us signs saints
give us signs give us signs give us signs give us signs give us signs
give us signs give us signs give us signs give us signs give us signs
give us signs give us signs give us signs give us signs give us signs
give us signs give us signs give us signs give us signs give us signs
give us a sign give us a sign give us a sign give us a sign give us a
sign give us a sign give us a sign give us a sign give us a sign give
us a sign give us a sign give us a sign give us a sign give us a sign
give us a sign give us a sign give us a sign give us a sign give us a
sign
As the chorus continues, becoming softer and softer, i steps forward and
addresses the audience.
i:

You can see the problem. Even belief takes money. Otherwise your
belief in belief fades. But how do you ask for it without seeming ...
hypocritical? So...
(i gestures at the chorus)
... we try to offer a little entertainment, a little instruction, in return for
your hard-earned coin. We share the same difficulty after all.
a reader:
(shouts from the chorus)
Tell 'em where we're going.

i:

(flustered)
Ah... yes. We're off to visit the tomb of St. Valentine. To
spend our days in praise and to die and be buried next to him.
david:
A holy pilgrimage.
i removes i's hat again, and places it at the very front of the playing area.
I•

And of course we need your assistance.
There is little or no response from the audience.
i:
(looking around sadly)

We have been on the road a long time now.
he:
(shouting from the chorus)

Let's give 'em something more familiar.
i:

More familiar? Well...
he:

Sure! Give 'em Saint Real's song.
st reat:
That old chestnut!!
i:

Alright! Alright! No schisms. We're trying to raise a little
money here, (blows on his pitch pipe) Ready?

he, she, we, they, david, a writer & a reader:
Oh let me sing
Oh let me dance
Oh God please give me
A second chance
I was never for prayer
I was never for peace
I was never that happy
I was never that pleased
But oh let me sing
Oh let me dance
Oh God please give me
A second chance
As the seven members of the chorus sing the above, the four saints attempt an
awkward little dance. In the middle of it, st. reat and st. orm take a wrong turn
and crash into each other, knocking each other to the floor. The seven-member
chorus sings on behind them.
st. orm:
(stage whisper)

You fool! Watch what you're doing!!
st. reat:
(stage whisper)
If you'd keep those bananas you call feet peeled, this
wouldn't have happened.
i:

(dragging them both to their feet)
SHHHH
(casts despairing glance at audience)
Keep dancing!
They continue their awkward dance. As the piece ends a member of the audience walks to the front and puts some money in the hat and then returns and sits
down again, i is beside himself with gratitude.

i:
Oh thank you! Thank you!!
i pauses, looking around expectantly at the rest of the audience. After whatever
response i gets:
i:
Would it help to hear something of each pilgrim's life? We
are a troupe, a community really. And we have forsaken the
selfishness of the individual or...
(throws a glance at the saints)
... at least we've tried to.
st. orm:

Fat lot of good it's done us.
i ignores him, looks around at the audience for a moment, and then, shrugging,
blows the opening note on the pitch pipe:
chorus:
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life

st. reat:
Was i not a saint?
What of it?
All that in another time.
Is not a saint but
one who dies?
Are not our lives but
endless questions
noone answers?
No noone answers.

a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life

a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life

We rush on
towards our death
& sainted
leave this life.

david:
My life is made of many
lives & lines all intersecting,
many deaths in
all these lifetimes.
Each one treasured
as special, unique,
grieved over when departed
by those, too, who are departed
so long ago there is none now to grieve.
Me—we too
in time, these many lives
all passed, all forgotten,
no longer special, no longer
unique, no longer
grieved over. Over. Simply over.
The many over & the many done &
the many gone who thought of themselves as

one.

a reader:
And of my life, who cares?
as long as i was there to do as bidden.
i have lived out my life in service
to one pre-set path after another,
brought each one to a conclusion & never thanked.
not once, patronized rather, matronized.
treated as interchangeable
with all the others like me.
my death unremarked, my place

a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life

taken by another, all the same.
all the same.

a writer:
And i have withheld details, confused
by this business of a story
a life story, ah but i have rushed on &
told so many, &
still the clamour for more, details.
details, who had thought to embrace death
& deny immortality as a saint.
as a saint would, dying.
and they give you then a name.
a stone, saint, st. one.

we:
Was i not a saint?
lives & lines all intersecting
i have lived out my life in service
told so many, all there, &
one who dies?
as special, unique,
treated as interchangeable
as a saint would, dying.
No noone answers.
Me—we too
all the same.

all i've
all i've
all i've

alive

a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life
a life

all i've
all i've
all i've
all i've
all i've
all i've

alive
alive
alive
alive
alive
alive

a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death
a death

all of the preceding, i keeps a wary eye on the audience. Now, as the
D uring
voices fade, i steps forward again; gesturing at the hat which is still sitting
on the very front of the playing area.
i:

lives, our lives, a saint's life. & now to dedicate this life to praising a
saint that we may join him in that life ...
There is a sudden disruption in the chorus, st. reat & st orm are pushing &
shoving at each other, st. ranglehold & st. agnes are trying to separate them.
st. reat:
don't give me any of your holier-than-thou talk! i've suffered too.
st. orm:

suffered?! you don't even know the meaning of the word "suffer"!
st. agnes:
c'mon you two! break it up. i'm sick of listening to you argue,
(aside to a writer)

there's nothing worse than two old fools, who think they're holy men,
arguing.
i rushes back to assist in separating them as st. orm takes a swing at st. reat &
hits st. ranglehold instead, st. ranglehold drops, moaning.

i:
gentle sirs! gentlefolk! this is an entertainment, not a brawl! not a time
for settling old antagonisms.
a reader throws up his hands in despair.
a reader:
i told you there was no point in this pilgrimage, we'll never succeed.
(then turning to a writer)
you get a feeling for these things after awhile, you can tell by the way
it begins how the whole thing's going to end.
we:

unity! unity!
a desperate we pulls out a pitch pipe &, blowing it to sound the starting pitch,
begins to conduct everyone except i & the saints in the singing of a praise-song
on the theme of unity, all thru this st. orm keeps taking swings at st. reat and
st reat swings back, they curse each other and flail ineffectually.
chorus (sung):

st. reat (spoken):

oh that in this life we
strive together to be
united peacefully
through wars & famine
plague & the earth's own toll
to be we to be we to be we
when all about us people die
& when they die they die alone
under the sword or
the earth's harsh groan
and heave, yet to be we
to be we
to be we
strive together peacefully

you're nothing but a has been!
st. orm:

an am.
st. reat:
a was,

st. orm:

an is.

to be we
to be we

to be we
to be we

st. reat:

to be we
to be we

a shouldn't have been.

st. orm:
and shall be again.
As the chorus finishes, the two saints slump back exhaustedly.
i:
(pointing at the saints)

they were all saints themselves you know,
gave it up. all that "me me me" of
sainthood, the idea was to merge
ourselves into a larger body, to forget
ourselves by praising another.
(he shrugs)
and look at this!
(gestures at the saints again)
it took so long to draw us together, to
agree on a saint we could spend our days
praising.
(looks up beseechingly)
and did you not give us those signs,
Valentine?
At which point the chorus begins to sing the following:

she:
did not my heart break valentine?
was that a sign?

he:
did not my heart ache valentine?
was that a sign?
they:
did not my heart freeze valentine?
was that a sign?

we:
did not my heart ease
valentine?
was that a sign?
david:
did not my heart need valentine?
was that a sign?

i:
did not my heart bleed valentine?
was that a sign?
a reader:
did not my heart yearn valentine?
was that a sign?
a writer:
did not my heart burn valentine?
was that a sign?
st. agnes:
did not my heart seek valentine?
was that a sign?
st. reat:
did not my heart speak valentine?
was that a sign?
st. ranglehold:
did not my heart sigh valentine?
was that a sign?
st. orm:

did not my heart cry
valentine?
was that a sign?

chorus:
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal

st orm:

sign of my faith
in you.
a writer:
sign of my love
in you.

(As this
is being
sung, the
chorus

uses a

number of
ways to
sign the
word
"sign."

The

saints

use
st. agnes:
sign of belief
in you.
a reader:
sign of my hope
in you.
st ranglehold:
sign of my path
in you.
they:
sign of my way
in you.
st. reat:
sign of my song

semaphore
flags
(see
NOTES at
end), we,
she, he &
they use
deaf sign

language.

The remaining
four use
lights to
morse
code the
word.)

sign design
signal sign
in you.
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
we:
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal sign of my prayer
sign design
signal sign
in you.
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
david:
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
sign of my life
design
signal sign design
in you.
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
she:
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
sign of my death
design
signal sign design
in you.
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
he:
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
sign of my sign
design
signal sign design
in you.
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
i:
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
sign of my time
design
signal sign design
in you.
signal sign design
signal
sign design
signal sign
design
signal sign design
signal sign design
signal

time
(As the chorus moves into this
t-time
section they all raise their aims
t-t-time
& begin to move them like clock
t-t-t-time
hands, an hour at a time. Each
t-t-t-t-time
"clock" is free to begin at
t-t-t-t-t-time
whatever time it chooses.
t-t-t-t-t-t-time
Movements should be loosely
t-t- -t-t-t- -time
coordinated but need not be
t-t- -t-t-t- -t-time
exact (like the clocks one sees
t-t- -t-t-t- -t-t-time
on display in clock shops))
t-t- -t-t—t-t-t-time
t-t- -t-t- - -t-t-t-t-time
t-t- -t-t—t-t-t-t-t-time
t-t- -t-t—t-t-t-t-t- -time
t-t- -t-t—t-t- -t-t- -t-time
t-t-t-t-t- -t-t-t- -t-t- -t-t-time
t-t-t-t-t- -t-t-t- -t-t- -t-t-t-time
t-t-t-t-t- -t-t-t- -t-t- -t-t-t-t-time
t-t-t-t-t- -t-t-t- -t-t- -t-t-t-t-t-time
t-t-t-t-t- -t-t-t-t-t-t- -t-t-t-t-t-t-time
t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-time
t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-time
t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-time
t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-time
t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-time
t-time t-time t-time t-time t-time t-time t-time
t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-tt-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-tt-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-

st orm:

st agnes:

st. rangle hold:

t
t
t

b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b

g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g

t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t

st. reat:

t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t
t

a writer:

d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
we:
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d
d

david:

b
b

b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b
b

a reader:

k
k
k
k
k

k

k
k
k
k
k
k
k
k
k
k

she:
k
k
k
k
k
k
k

k
k
k
k
k
k
k
k
k

he:
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g
g

they:

P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
i:

P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P
P

chorus:
(gradually slowing down)
t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t t

As the chorus winds down, they continue to move their arms. There are thirty
seconds of complete silence during which the tempo of their arm movements increases & becomes more pronouncedly jerky. Suddenly they all stop at once, i
takes a tentative step forward.

and so we go to seek St. Valentine's grave that we might praise him.
At this point she exits to the left & he exits to the right, i turns to watch them go
& then turns back to the audience.

we are close now. but there is the problem of money, faith costs money,
only a little, but a little nonetheless.
(i gestures after the departed players)
they have gone to seek St. Valentine's grave, their path is clear, ours is not clear
(i points to the almost empty hat)
that hat. that same same hat.
(i bends over, picks it up, removes the money then places the hat on i's head)
you can beg, but i was taught not to. give value for value my parents always said, and i can't prove what God will give you if you give to me. how
can i know, really.
(i looks around then leans forward, confidentially)
do you believe i'm divinely inspired?
(i pauses, then laughs)
well somebody dictated this speech to me.
Now st orm yells at him from the chorus who have been standing casually behind him.
st. orm:

c'mon! more entertainment, less preaching.
st. agnes:
we gave all that up when we gave up our own sainthood.

they:
(to st orm)
what's wrong with preaching? we just sang them a love song.

we:
so sing them another one.
st. ranglehold:
something sweet.
david:
familiar.

i:

(to the chorus, announcing the title)
"This Is A Love Song."
chorus nods, pleased, everyone hums their pitch.
chorus:
this is a love song
this is a love song
wrote it on the long road

singing

wrote it on the long road
nearly home
nearly home
a
b
c

david:

singing

d
e
f
g

city of love, i have imagined,
city of peace, your squares &
dwellings, devoid of palaces &
citadels, houses of power & of war,
not banished but never desired, city
i've wandered dreaming, have dwelt in &
called home.

h

half-chorus:

i

this is a love song
j

wrote it on the long road

singing

k

nearly home
1

m
n

st. agnes:

o
P

q
r
s

home, or a heaven, a haven or
simply being, here, in the world.
this world &
therefore i praise, therefore i sing of
the heart, celebrate the dwelling place.
that which is. that which is.
that which is.

t

half-chorus:

u

this is a love song
V

w

wrote it on the long road
nearly home

X

y

singing

z

chorus:
this is a love song
wrote it on the long road

singing

nearly home
this is a love song
this is a love song
singing
singing
nearly home
this is a love song
this is a love song
singing
singing
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home

nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
nearly home
Even as the chorus is ending this song, she comes rushing in from the left.

she:
i've found it! i've found the tomb of St. Valentine!!
A spontaneous cheer goes up.

i:

are you sure?

she:
of course i'm sure, it's got his name on it.
i falls to i's knees, arms raised, gazing up at the heavens.
i:

bless us father mother, bless you. bless St. Valentine ...

st. orm:
enough blessings! let's get going, when we're this close why
hang around here?
The mood's been broken for i. i stands up, brushing the dirt off the knees of i's
trousers.
i:

no need to be rude, i was just taking a moment out to praise.

st. orm:
we've been doing nothing but praising for the last half hour,
we'll all be dead before we reach the tomb.
And st orm stalks off towards the left, he pauses just before exiting & looks back.

st. orm:
well?

i:
i still think a blessing, a song of praise, is in order.

st. orm:
(sneering)

order?!
(looks around)
what do any of you know of order?
& st orm turns & leaves, there is a moment of uncomfortable silence & then i
blows the pitch pipe once again.
i:

don't let him destroy the spirituality of the moment, together now.
chorus:
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing

david:
bless you. less me when i
bless you. more me con amore, blessing you.

she:
bless you. less me when i
bless you. more me con amore, blessing you.

they:
bless you. less us when we
bless you. more we con amore, blessing you.

david & she:
bless you. less me when i
bless you. more we con a-

more, blessing you.
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
david, she & they:
sing bless sing bless sing
bless you. less us when we
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless you. more we con amore, blessing you.
bless bless bless bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
sing bless sing bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing
bless bless bless bless sing you
bless bless bless bless sing you
sing bless sing bless sing you
sing bless sing bless sing you
sing bless sing bless sing you
bless sing you
sing you bless sing you
bless sing you
sing you bless sing you
bless sing you
As they sing the closing part of the song, the chorus begins to troop off to the
left following the already departed st. orm. just as the first person goes to exit,
he rushes in from the right.
he:

i've found it! i've found the tomb of St. Valentine!
Everyone stops abruptly with much bumping into each other, cursing and consternation.

what?

how can that be?

st. reat:
a writer:

are you sure?
They all turn and stare angrily at he.

he:
(taken aback)
sure? of course I'm sure, it's got his name on it
he points back the way he's just come from.

he:
come & see.
a reader:
we were just going.

he:
home?
st. agnes:
we thought so.

he:
giving up?
st. ranglehold:
no. going.
they:
to the tomb.

he:
the one i found.

she:
the one i found.

he:
you found? but that's impossible.
david:
a miracle?

i:
impossible.

she:
i found the tomb of St. Valentine.

he:
i found the tomb of St. Valentine.
she & he:

They glare at each other for a moment.

she:
there is only one true tomb and therefore only one real way to
choose.

he:
exactly.

she:
you've done this to discredit me, haven't you?
he:

why would i bother? you discredit yourself.
Everyone else is following this argument, torn back and forth by prior loyalties,
commitments to ideals, etc. At this point he & she withdraw to opposite sides of
the stage, she begins to sing:

she:
No path but the true path
should be taken.

he:
No road but the holy road,
the way.

she:
All other roads are
mistaken.

he:
When the true path is
taken, the way is clear,

she & he:
tho the true path be not the near path
& the price be dear,
no path but the true path
should be taken. No road but
the holy road, the way. All other roads
are mistaken.
Now everyone joins in. This is sung as a combination of a series of monologues
and conversations.

chorus:
No path but the true path
should be taken. No road but the
holy road, the way. All other roads are
mistaken. When the true path is
taken, the way is clear, tho
the true path be not the near path
& the price be dear,
no path but the true path
should be taken. No road but
the holy road, the way. All other roads are
mistaken & when taken
lead to loneliness, lovelessness,
lead to emptiness, bitterness,
lead to nothingness, lead away.
the words in the last three lines ("loneliness,*' "lovelessness," "emptiness," "bitterness" & "nothingness" are picked up and sung by various members of the
chorus as solo lines and then i sings the last line of the song:
i:

away.
she & he are still standing on opposite sides of the playing area glaring at each
other.

she:
i know what i saw.
he:

andi.

she:
anyone who wishes to follow me to the true tomb is welcome.
he:

i extend the same invitation.

The rest of the chorus look back & forth between she & he, & then at each
other.
a writer:
her speech has the ring of truth to it.
a reader:
i was about to say the same about his.
a writer:
i think i'll follow her.
a reader:
him.

And they walk to join their chosen side. The rest of the chorus looks around &
then with shrugs or sneers moves to one or the other side of the playing area.

we:
how can we know the true tomb when there are two.
they:
we know the messengers, we know who we can trust.
we & david join she & a writer on the left; they & st. reat join he & a reader
on the right; i, st. agnes & st ranglehold move towards the front centre of the
playing area.
she & the others exit to the left; he & the others exit to the right; i, st. agnes &
st ranglehold are left alone in the playing area, i sits down dejectedly.

i:
and we seemed so close.
st agnes:
(shrugging)
it's always this way.

i:
(looking up)

it is?
st. ranglehold:
the same ones who make you saints take your sainthood away.
st. agnes:
it's the nature of it.
st. ranglehold:
a lesson in the imperfectibility of perfection.

i:
(looking down again)
but we were so close.
st agnes & st ranglehold reach down and, each taking an arm, lift i up.
st agnes:
i've come to believe that's the point.
st. ranglehold:
when you come right down to it... if there are two valentines ...
st. agnes:
... two hearts...
st. ranglehold:
if even here there is, after all, such a division...
(he shrugs)
one and one makes one zero.

i:
what?

st agnes:
the heart's a binary system, one and one makes one zero.
And then the three of them together begin to sing.
i, st. agnes & st. ranglehold:
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
one and one makes one zero
As they sing they begin to move forward out of the playing area and exit
through the audience. We still hear them singing. Tho they are no longer in
sight we hear their singing end just as st. orm comes striding out onto the playing area and then, hearing them, follows them out through the audience.

st. orm:
(under his breath)
bloody fools!

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AD SANCTOS: MUSIC
Howard Gerhard

This page intentionally left blank

so shall the world go on...

we're going to saints

o let me sing

a life

that in this life

was that a sign

this is a love song

BlesSing

no path

one and one

PRODUCTION NOTES
bpNichol

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1) This piece is imagined as being performed in the kinds of halls & spaces
choirs normally perform in. The performers' relationship to their audience
should always remain that of itinerant chorus to moneyed audience.
2) In every performance there should be at least one person placed in the audience who will get up after "St. Real's Song" and place some money in the hat
and then go back to her/his seat.
3) The characters never call each other by name. Nor should their names be
[Hinted in any programme that accompanies the performance. Names exist as a
guide to performers, and/or as part of the experience of reading the work, only.
4) The chorus should behave as a real chorus and leave space after each number
for applause, acknowledging it if it comes, i should always be encouraged by
any and all applause. It makes him even more ingratiating if there's a lot, and
more depressed if there's a little.
5) Flags should be a variation on the following design:

The flags are always grouped in colour pairs i.e. black & red/red & black should
be held by the same performer. The flags should always have black and at least
one of the colour pairs should be red & black.
6) Performers get to keep all money they manage to collect from the audience
by way of donation.

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Editor for the Press: Christopher Dewdney
Typesetting: David McFadden
Printed in Canada
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Toronto, Canada
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