Succession Play, or What You Make of It

A play about power and thresholds

This short play is part of the NOISE/QUIET cycle. If you’re just joining, I recommend starting at the beginning by clicking here. You can read the play that precedes this in the cycle, Everybody Wants to Change the World, by clicking here.

The Preface below was written as I was developing the cycle. If you’ve been reading along, you’ll notice my thinking about the entire piece has evolved since this was published.

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Lately I’ve been thinking about short plays—how they breathe, how they spark, and how a few pages can transport an audience into another world. I love the challenge of working in short form: compressing a story so it lands with energy and clarity. But it’s not an easy puzzle to solve—too long and it sags; too short and it evaporates. As I’ve written elsewhere on Modern Drama, I often wrestle with boiling down the work to its most potent essence. Finding that balance can be a challenge—but it’s what makes the work worth doing.

This past September, I shared a short play I wrote in 2021, which you can read here. Since then, I’ve been imagining what other short pieces might live alongside it, and how they could form an evening of theater that feels varied yet cohesive. I’ve settled on five pieces in total—one published, two more coming soon, and the full sequence expected in early 2026.

For now, I’m excited to share Succession Play, or What You Make of It. I hope it surprises, delights, and maybe even makes you laugh out loud.

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Theater like NOISE/QUIET needs champions. Your tax-deductible donation to KEVIN RAY | WORKS makes fearless new work possible.

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Succession Play, or What You Make of It

The throne room of a castle, late at night, lit by torches and candles. A handsome young KING sits on the throne while his advisor FOSCARI hands him papers, which the KING signs with an absurdly large feather quill—fit for magisterial decrees.

FOSCARI: Your signature here…

KING: Alright…

FOSCARI: And here…

KING: Uh-huh…

FOSCARI: Also here, here—here, here and… here.

KING: Are we done yet Foscari? We’ve been at this since the cock’s first crow—it’s nearly midnight.

FOSCARI: Almost, Your Grace.

KING: Who knew reforming the land involved so much red tape?

FOSCARI: Your hard work will pay off Your Grace… once your subjects experience your new vision.

KING: The feudal lords won’t be happy. But it’s high time somebody freed the serfs! From now on things around here will be done in a way that’s fair.

FOSCARI: It’ll be a bright, new morning again in the kingdom, Your Grace.

KING Everything will be equitable—

FOSCARI Because you said so.

KING: Foscari, how long will it take to implement these changes?

FOSCARI: Immediately, Your Grace. As you recall, you’ve already disbanded parliament.

KING: That was an excellent suggestion Foscari.

FOSCARI: (Blushing.) Decades of experience advising your late father taught me a few tricks about expediency Your Grace.

KING: How did you convince parliament to give up their seats without a stink?

FOSCARI: When we presented them with your father’s old jewelry, they were more than happy to scurry off with ill-gotten gains.

KING: Clever—I see you kept one item for yourself. (Indicating silver medallion FOSCARI wears around his neck.)

FOSCARI: When no one wanted your father’s pure silver medallion, I took the liberty of wearing it… as a gesture of continuity.

KING: You deserve it for all the splendid advice you’ve given me. But put it under your robe, I don’t want to be reminded of the past—it’s a new era!

FOSCARI: Of course, Your Grace. I’ll keep it hidden—here, against my breast—as a reminder of your father’s belief that the crown must endure.

FOSCARI tucks the necklace with the pure silver medallion under his robe.

KING: Now that I’ve freed the serfs and given away the royal jewels, how is that wealth going to be replaced?

FOSCARI: You see here, Your Grace, (shows parchment) you previously signed orders to increase merchant taxes and incorporation fees.

KING: Oh right… my “After-Lunch Decree.” Those greedy merchants will finally pay their fair share.

FOSCARI That’s the beauty of absolute power, Your Grace—everyone gets exactly what you decide.

KING I love being decisive! Are we done signing papers?

FOSCARI: Nearly, Your Grace—there’s just one loose end.

KING: What’s left?

FOSCARI: The Royal Players.

KING: Oh no! Not that boring theater troupe my father loved! Just fire them.

FOSCARI: It’s not that easy Your Grace.

KING: Foscari-—does anyone really like actors?

FOSCARI: The Royal Players are very popular with the people.

KING: So is blood sausage and calf tongue—that didn’t stop me from taking those yucky food items off the Royal Brunch.

FOSCARI: Without the backing of the feudal lords, you’ll need strong support from the people. And too many changes too quickly could cause them to turn on you.

KING: Rats! The last thing I need is a pitchfork uprising.

FOSCARI: Or a beheading.

KING: (Sneers.) Marie Antoinette—always starting trends! What do you advise?

FOSCARI: Considering your new vision, it would show your royal subjects you gave the Royal Players fairconsideration if you let them… audition.

KING: Oooh… Clever! What would I do without you Foscari?

FOSCARI: I can only imagine, Your Grace.

KING: But wait, who would their competition be? The Royal Players are the only thespians in the kingdom.

FOSCARI: Not so! According to my sources, a traveling troupe of players from a far-off land has mesmerized villagers on the outskirts of the kingdom with dazzling performances. I’ve sent messengers far and wide with instructions for the troupe to come to the castle.

KING: Excellent! Inform the Royal Players.

FOSCARI: I’ve kept them waiting outside since dawn. Guards! Bring in the Royal Players.

Fanfare. The castle doors open and the ROYAL PLAYERS loudly bound in with exuberance.

ALL PLAYERS: Huzzah!

LEAD PLAYER: Your Majesty! The Royal Players—at your service!

ALL PLAYERS: Verily and merrily!

KING: (Aside to FOSCARI.) Egad!

FOSCARI: (Aside to KING.) Forsooth.

LEAD PLAYER: Most loving and deserving Royal Highness, in light of your father’s unexpected passing, our troupe is proud to continue our legendary service to the crown with a season of plays honoring his memory.

ALL PLAYERS: Huzzah!

KING: Actually… I’m trying my best to forget all about him.

ALL PLAYERS: (They gasp.) Zounds!

SECOND PLAYER: What?

THIRD PLAYER: Why?

LEAD PLAYER: And wherefore?

KING: The kingdom is under new management. I’ve decided to incorporate some reforms. Before I agree to let you continue as the official theatrical troupe of the Royal Court, you must… audition for the position.

ALL PLAYERS: (Stunned) Audition?

They say the next four lines to each other, not to the KING because that would be disrespectful.

LEAD PLAYER: Alack!

SECOND PLAYER: Allay!

THIRD PLAYER: I rue this day!

SECOND PLAYER: We are undone by an artistic despot!

LEAD PLAYER: (Recovered, politely) Your Majesty, the Royal Players have been the court’s theatrical entertainment for decades.

KING: And every play you perform lasts twice that long.

LEAD PLAYER: Thus the whirligig of time brings in his… intermission.

KING: See! There you go with that silly-sounding speech. Why are all your plays written like that?

LEAD PLAYER: It’s poetic.

KING: Yet nobody understands a word of your performances.

LEAD PLAYER: Perchance… we are merely ahead of our time, Sire.

SECOND PLAYER: Give it a few centuries—

THIRD PLAYER: Scholars will adore us.

KING: And why are you always dressing up as women?

LEAD PLAYER: Our troupe is only men.

KING: Do you have something against hiring women?

LEAD PLAYER: What? No! It’s just that…

SECOND PLAYER: No woman has ever auditioned for the Royal Players.

THIRD PLAYER: It would be… unseemly.

LEAD PLAYER: Shocking!

THIRD PLAYER: A scandal!

SECOND PLAYER: It’s just not done.

LEAD PLAYER: (Shamefully.) In truth… they won’t have anything to do with us.

SECOND PLAYER: (Pointing to LEAD PLAYER.) And he’s certainly tried—

THIRD PLAYER: In every way imaginable.

LEAD PLAYER: And then some!

THIRD PLAYER: So, we invented a work-around.

SECOND PLAYER: We hired this scrawny, young fellow—he can shimmy into the daintiest of gowns.

THIRD PLAYER: I’ve made an entire career out of playing women!

LEAD PLAYER: It’s true! He gets rave reviews for his portrayal of tragic queens.

KING: Tragic is right! You’ve been performing the same tired plays for as long as anyone can remember!

LEAD PLAYER: But these plays… they tell our history…

SECOND PLAYER Our traditions…

THIRD PLAYER They remind us who we are.

KING: “Let the past die,” said… some philosopher.

FOSCARI: Sir Georgio Lucastian, Your Grace. Ironically, a tedious chronicler of sequels.

The clock chimes midnight.

KING: Enough of this! Midnight is nigh, time for beddy-bye. We’ll hold auditions as soon as your competitors arrive.

ALL PLAYERS: Competitors?

LEAD PLAYER: What competitors? We are the only theater troupe in the kingdom.

KING: You were the only troupe in the kingdom.

FOSCARI: Another has been identified. A traveling troupe from a far-off land.

KING: Foscari, what kind of plays do they put on? Would I just be trading one boring act for another?

FOSCARI: I’m told this troupe infuses their performances with… magic.

ALL PLAYERS: Magic?

THIRD PLAYER: Rogues!

SECOND PLAYER: Rank miscreants!

LEAD PLAYER: Reeky rump-fed, ill-nurtured foot-lickers!

KING: (To PLAYERS.) Enough! (To FOSCARI.) Magic you say? What kind of magic?

FOSCARI: All sorts. I’m told their specialty is… levitation.

KING: Spectacle! Marvelous—people will love that! (Aside to FOSCARI.) I see exactly where you’re going with this audition idea.

FOSCARI: (Aside to KING.) Oh, it’s my best scheme yet Your Grace.

LEAD PLAYER: Your Grace, if I may… people may delight in low-brow entertainment like magical routines…

THIRD PLAYER: (Excited.) Jousting with jam…

SECOND PLAYER: (More excited.) Belligerent bear-baiting…

THIRD PLAYER: (Exploding into frenzy.) Bawdy burlesque bursting with mirthful, mud-wrestling maids in bountiful, buxom bikinis, slipping and sliding in slushy sludge—like lusty, wet WENCHES GONE WILD!

Silence. Everyone stares at THIRD PLAYER, jaws agape. He realizes his mistake.

THIRD PLAYER: (Composed and contrite.) My apologies Your Majesty. Please do forgive me. I am a bad, bad… very, very, bad boy.

LEAD PLAYER: You see the impact these churlish entertainments have on young minds? Spectacle excites, but does not enrich the soul.

KING: Yes, but unlike your plays, the audience won’t need a history lesson and a thesaurus to follow a magic show—things appear, disappear, levitate, and land. True entertainment for the masses!

FOSCARI: Authentic bread and circuses!

LEAD PLAYER: If the crown has decided there will be an audition, we dutiful subjects will obey.

SECOND PLAYER: (To LEAD PLAYER) But what if we fail?

LEAD PLAYER: (To PLAYERs) Have you forgotten the end of our most requested play: The Tragic Times and Inspiring Life of King Wulfric the Loquacious, Part II?

ALL PLAYERS: (Realizing) Oh… yes!

LEAD PLAYER: Men! Spread yourselves!

ALL PLAYERS swiftly assume their positions and characters in the scene from the play. The perform the ending with sincerity and craft.

PLAYER 2: Good brother, what news from the battlefront?

PLAYER 3: A day of slaughter; Wulfric’s army is near decimated.

PLAYER 2: What hope is there our kingdom will survive?

PLAYER 3: Look! Wulfric approaches!

LEAD PLAYER: (In role as Wulfric, on a battlefield before a dejected army.)

Good friends we meet upon a dismal night.
It was my charge that led us to the dark
I did not see how I could lose this fight
Now in defeat your eyes have lost their spark.

Yet even in the dark a light still glows 
Look up! The moon she beams alone yet true;
surrounded in pitch black, bright rays she throws
on us, who fought to save the home we knew.

The light the moon reflects is not her own.
Like her I am aglow with borrowed beams.
My light is yours, a truth I’ve always known,
Your faith, your trust, your love: our country’s dreams

Set now your hearts and souls once more aflame
Rise up good friends—and our fair land reclaim!

ALL PLAYERS: (Inspired by the speech) Huzzah!

KING (Claps with genuine delight. The performance authentically touched him.) Well played, well played indeed. Don’t you think so Foscari?

FOSCARI Most certainly Your Grace. Though, I don’t expect the serfs you just freed will have much appreciation for a monologue about the days of old.

KING But it might remind them who it was that gave them a better life. Perhaps…

FOSCARI Say no more Your Grace. The audition was merely a suggestion. I’ll send word to cancel…

KING Wait! (The wheels turn in his mind) If we cancel at the last minute it could look like we’re playing favorites. (Resolved) Let the Traveling Players come.

LEAD PLAYER: But who are these Traveling Players?

Three slow, heavy knocks on the palace door.

KING: Who can it be at this midnight hour?

FOSCARI: Guards! Open the gates!

Doors open to reveal the TRAVELING PLAYERS standing deathly still in the threshold. They are grim and somewhat ominous; dressed in clothing that appears “old world.”

KING: They don’t look happy. Foscari, are they the feudal lords?

TRAVEL LEAD: Most Gracious Lord of the Realm, we received your message and humbly submit for… the audition.

KING: Ah! You must be the Traveling Players! My advisor says you’ve been astounding my villagers.

TRAVEL LEAD: Yes, Great Lord, your royal subjects have been most transfixed by our performances.

KING: I’ll bet! Is it true you incorporate levitation?

TRAVEL LEAD: Oh yes, levitation… and other wonders the likes of which you have yet to behold.

LEAD PLAYER: Your Majesty, levitation and such… these are mere illusions, achieved by smoke, mirrors and deception. They are not real. What the Royal Players present is the stuff of life—the highs and lows; the comedy, romance and pathos that reminds us of our humanity.

KING: Alright! We will decide who stays and who goes through our Royal Audition Process. Let’s have the magicians perform!

TRAVEL LEAD: Of course, my associates and I will be happy to… entertain.

KING: Wonderful! Well… what are you waiting for? On with the show!

FOSCARI: Your Grace, you remember I told you these Traveling Players come from far-off lands?

KING: Yes.

FOSCARI: They have ways and traditions different from our own.

KING: As I said, I’m very open to new things.

FOSCARI: Excellent, before the Traveling Players perform, one custom must be observed.

KING: What is it?

FOSCARI: You must… (With a knowing smile.) ask them in.

KING: Ugh! You mean I have to do something to see a show? How is that fair?

TRAVEL LEAD: My Lord, our unique performances are… invitation only.

The KING looks at FOSCARI, then at the ROYAL PLAYERS, then at the TRAVELING PLAYERS still standing in the threshold.

KING: I’ve decided—by Royal Decree—COME ON IN!

Eerie music begins to rise. FOSCARI grins and takes his pure silver medallion out from inside his cloak during his next line.

FOSCARI: A wise command Your Grace, I’m certain these Traveling Players are dying to perform.

The TRAVELING PLAYERS cross the threshold into the castle. A cold air sweeps the hall.

TRAVEL LEAD: As you wish, most decisive Lord of the Realm. A performance to draw your breath… and stir your blood.

Low thunder. Eerie music continues to rise. The torches and candles begin to flicker; shadows extend. Ideally the TRAVELING PLAYERS levitate.

LEAD PLAYER: (In frozen terror.) Your Majesty, what have you brought upon us?

KING: (Quietly, like a scared child.) Foscari?

FOSCARI: (In a gentle voice.) Shhh—relax, Your Grace, you’ll enjoy the show much more. (Holding the silver medallion to protect himself he speaks to TRAVEL LEAD) As promised, the stage is set.

TRAVEL LEAD: Let the performance—BEGIN!

Eerie music reaches full height. A crash of thunder and flashes of lightning.

BLACKOUT

Filled with screams.

Screams fade into the sound of fluorescent lights and clock ticking before lights up on While We Wait 3.

Succession Play was my attempt to capture what might happen when “the new” replaces “the old” without question—a shift that can feel comic one moment and unsettling the next. I’d love to hear how it struck you: what surprised you, what lingered, or what you made of its ending? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

Continue the Cycle

Next: While We Wait 3—A play about what survives the noise.