Tales from The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens

 A Christmas Tale: The Grave Digger and the Goblin Queen

Cast
Narrator 1 - Jim Newberry
Gabriel Grub  – Mike Ayris
Narrator 2 - Lisa Nightingale
Goblin Queen – Lisa Nightingale
Goblin Chorus - Cast
Townsperson 1 - Mike Ayris
Townsperson 2 – Jim Newberry

Text | Voice 

Narrator 1
In an old, abbey town a long, long while ago – so long that this story must be true because our great-grand parents implicitly believed it – there lived a man who was both the sexton and grave-digger in a churchyard: one Gabriel Grub.  Gabriel Grub was an ill-conditioned, cross-grained surly fellow – a morose and lonely man who consorted with nobody but himself and an old wicker bottle which fitted into his large, deep waistcoat pocket.  He eyed each merry face as it passed him by with such a deep scowl of malice and ill-humour that was difficult to experience without feeling the worse for it. 

One Christmas Eve, a little before twilight, Gabriel shouldered his spade, lit his lantern, and headed towards the old churchyard for he had a grave to finish by morning.   Feeling very low, he thought it might raise his spirits if he went on with his work at once.  As he walked up the ancient street, he saw the cheerful lights of blazing fires gleaming through the windows, heard the loud laugh and cheerful shouts of those who were assembled around them. 

He noticed the bustling preparations for the next day’s celebrations and smelled the numerous savoury smells as they steamed up in clouds from kitchen windows.

Gabriel Grub
(Sniff and) Pah!

Narrator 2
All this was gall and wormwood to the heart of Gabriel Grub.  Groups of children bounded out of the houses, ran across the road, and were met before they could knock at the opposite door by half a dozen, curly-haired little rascals who crowded round them as they flocked upstairs to spend the evening in their Christmas games. 

Gabriel smiled grimly at this and clutched the handle of his spade with a firmer grip – as he thought of..

Gabriel Grub
(Malevolent glee) Measles, scarlet fever, thrush, whooping cough.

Narrator 2
…and a good many other sources of consolation to him.

Narrator 1
In this happy frame of mind he strode along, returning a short, sullen growl to the good-humoured greetings of neighbours as now and then they passed him, until he turned into the dark lane that led to the churchyard.  Now Gabriel had been looking forward to reaching the dark lane because it was, generally speaking, a mournful place where the townspeople did not much care to venture, except in broad daylight when the sun was shining. 

So he was not a little indignant to hear a young urchin roaring out some jolly song about a merry Christmas in this very sanctuary which had been called Coffin Lane, ever since the days of the old abbey and its shaven-headed monks. 

Narrator 2
Gabriel walked on and as the voice drew nearer, he saw it came from a small boy who was hurrying along to join one of the little parties in the street.  So Gabriel waited until the boy came up, grabbed him, and rapped him over the head with his lantern five or six times just to teach him to modulate his voice. 

Gabriel Grub
(Chuckling) He! He! He! 

Narrator 2
The boy hurried away and a gleeful Grub entered the churchyard, locking the gate behind him.  He took off his coat, set down his lantern, and jumping into the unfinished grave, worked at it for an hour or so with much goodwill. 

But the earth was hardened with frost - difficult to break up and shovel out.  Although there was a moon, it was a very young one and shed little light upon the grave which was in the shadow of the church.  At any other time, these obstacles would have made Gabriel Grub very moody and miserable, but he was so pleased with having stopped the small boy’s singing, that he took little heed of the scant progress he had made. 

Narrator 1
When he had finished work, he looked down into the grave with grim satisfaction, murmuring as he gathered up his things.

Gabriel Grub
Brave lodgings for one, brave lodgings for one,
A few feet of cold earth when life is done,
A stone at the head, a stone at the feet,
A rich juicy meal for the worms to eat,
Rank grass overhead and damp clay around,
Brave lodgings for one, these, in holy ground.

Ho, Ho! A coffin at Christmas!  A Christmas box!  Ha! Ha! Ha!

Goblin Queen
Ho! Ho! Ho!

Gabriel Grub
Hey?

Narrator 1
Alarmed, Gabriel paused in the act of raising the wicker bottle to his lips and looked around.  The bottom of the oldest grave about him was not more still and quiet than the churchyard in the pale moonlight. 

The cold hoar frost glistened on the tombstones and sparkled like rows of gems.  The snow lay hard and crisp on the ground spread over the thickly-strewn mounds of earth, so white and smooth a cover that it seemed as if corpses lay there, hidden only by their winding sheets.   All was so cold and still.

Gabriel Grub
Nah!  It was the echoes (raises bottle and drinks).

Goblin Queen
It was not.

Gabriel Grub
(Spitting and starting up) Gaah!

Narrator 1
Gabriel stood rooted to the spot with astonishment and terror – for his eyes rested on a form that made his blood run cold.  Seated on an upright tombstone was a strange, unearthly figure – no being of this world.  Her long fantastic legs were raised and crossed in a quaint, fantastic way; her sinewy arms were bare, with hands resting on knees. 

On her short, round body she wore a close covering, ornamented with small slashes; a short cloak dangled at her back, with the collar cut into curious peaks like a ruff, and her shoes curled up at the toes into long points.   On her head was a broad-brimmed, sugar loaf hat, garnished with a single feather. 

The goblin looked as if she had sat on the same tombstone very comfortably for two or three hundred years….and was grinning...goblinly.

Goblin Queen
It was not the echoes.

Gabriel Grub
(Muted sound of fear) Ohhh.

Goblin Queen
(Sternly) What do you do here on Christmas Eve?

Gabriel Grub
(Stammering) I came to dig a grave..er..ma’am.

Goblin Queen
(Raised voice) What man wanders among graves and churchyards on a night such as this?

 Goblin Chorus
(Taunting)  Gabriel Grub!  Gabriel Grub!  Gabriel Grub!

Gabriel Grub
(Sound of frightened look behind) Errrh!

Narrator 1
Gabriel looked fearfully round – nothing was to be seen.

Goblin Queen
What have you got in that bottle?

Gabriel Grub
(Trembling) Gin, ma’am – you ain’t with the Excise Department, are you?

Goblin Queen
Who drinks gin alone, in a churchyard on such a night as this?

Goblin Chorus
(Taunting) Gabriel Grub!  Gabriel Grub!  Gabriel Grub!

Goblin Queen
(Leering then) And who then is our fair and lawful prize?

Goblin Chorus
Gabriel Grub!  Gabriel Grub!

Goblin Queen
(Grinning) Well, Gabriel, what do you say to these?

Narrator 1
The goblin kicked up her feet on either side of the tombstone looking at her turned-up boot points with as much complacency as if she were contemplating the most fashionable pair of boots in Bond Street.

Gabriel Grub
(Half dead with fright) It’s – it’s – very curious, ma’am.  Very curious, and very pretty, but I think I’ll go back and finish my work, ma’am, if you please.

Goblin Queen
Work!  What work?

Gabriel Grub
(Stammering) The grave, ma’am, making the grave.

Goblin Queen
Oh, the grave eh?  Who makes graves at a time when all other men and women are merry, and takes pleasure in it?

Goblin Chorus
Gabriel Grub!  Gabriel Grub!

Goblin Queen
(Teasing, taunting) I am afraid my friends want you, Gabriel.

Gabriel Grub
(Horror-stricken)  Under favour, ma’am.  I don’t think they can ma’am, they don’t know me, ma’am.  I don’t think the ladies and gentlemen have ever seen me, ma’am.

Goblin Queen
Oh yes they have.  We know the man with the sulky face and grim scowl that came down the street tonight, throwing his evil looks at the children, and grasping his burying spade tighter.  We know the man who struck the boy in the envious malice of his heart, because the boy could be merry and he could not.  We know him.  We know him. (shrill laugh that is echoed by the Goblin Chorus).

Narrator 1
Suddenly, the goblin threw her legs up in the air and stood on her head – or rather the very point of her sugar-loaf hat – and at the narrow edge of the tombstone performed a somersault with extraordinary agility right to the sexton’s feet.

Gabriel Grub
(Frightened surprise) Oooh!  I –I –am afraid I must leave you ma’am.

Goblin Queen
Leave us!  Gabriel Grub going to leave us.  Ho! Ho! Ho!

Narrator 2
As the goblin laughed, for an instant, a brilliant illumination appeared in the windows of the church and promptly disappeared.  The organ pealed forth a lively air, and whole troops of goblins poured into the churchyard and began playing at leap-frog over the tombstones, never stopping for an instant but “topping” the highest of them, one after the other with the most marvellous dexterity.  The female goblin was a most astonishing jumper and none of the others could come near her. 

Even in the extremity of his terror, the sexton could not help observing that, while her friends were content to leap over the common-sized gravestones, she took on the family vaults – iron railings and all…..

Goblin Queen
Woooooeeee!

Narrator 2
…with as much ease as if they had been so many street-posts.

Narrator 1
Quickly, the game reached a most exciting pitch; the organ played quicker and quicker, the goblins leapt faster and faster, coiling themselves up, rolling head over heels and bounding over the gravestones like footballs. 

The sexton’s brain whirled around with the rapidity of the motion he saw, and his legs reeled beneath him as the spirits flew before his eyes – when the Goblin Queen, suddenly darting towards him, laid her hand upon his collar and sank with him through the earth.

Gabriel Grub
(Falling and very scared) Aaaaaaaaaah!

Goblin Queen
(Falling and gleeful) Weeeeeeeee!

Narrator 2
When Gabriel Grub had had time to fetch his breath, which the speed of descent had for a moment taken away, he found himself in what appeared to be a large cavern, surrounded by crowds of goblins – ugly and grim. 

He stood paralysed as he saw his friend from the churchyard - in the centre of the room, stationed on a raised seat in front of him.

Goblin Queen
Cold night tonight.  Very cold.  A glass of something warm here!

Narrator 1
At her command, half a dozen officious goblins, with a perpetual smile on their faces and who Gabriel imagined to be courtiers, promptly disappeared and presently returned with two goblets of liquid fire which they presented to the queen.

The queen, whose cheeks and throat were transparent from the fiery brew, tossed down the flame.

Goblin Queen
Aaaah!  This warms me indeed.  Offer the same to Mr Grub.

Gabriel Grub
(Frightened hysteria) No! I am not in the habit of taking anything warm at night!

Narrator 1
One of the goblins held him while another poured the blazing liquid down his throat.

Gabriel Grub
(Drinking, coughing spluttering and choking) …uh…ugh…gaa!

Narrator 2
As the queen said this, a thick cloud which obscured the remoter end of the cavern rolled gradually away and disclosed, apparently at a great distance, a small and scantily furnished apartment. 

A crowd of little children were gathered round a bright fire clinging to their mother’s gown and dancing around her chair.  The mother occasionally rose and drew aside the curtains as if to look for some expected object.  A frugal meal was ready on the table and an armchair placed by the fire.  A knock was heard at the door and the children crowded round their mother as their father entered.  Wet and weary, he shook the snow from his garments and the children crowded round him.  Then as he sat down to his meal before the fire, they climbed on his knee and the mother sat by his side: all seemed happiness and comfort.

A change came upon the view, almost imperceptibly.  The new scene was a small bedroom, where the fairest and youngest child lay dying; the colour had fled from his cheek and the light from his eye.  Even as the sexton looked upon him with an interest he had never known before, he died.  His young brothers and sisters crowded round his little bed and looked with awe on his infant face; for calm and tranquil as it was, they saw that he was dead and they knew.   

Goblin Queen
And now, show the man of misery and gloom a few of the pictures from our own great storehouse.

Narrator 1
Again the cloud passed across the scene and the subject changed.   The father and mother were old and helpless now, and the number of those about them was diminished by more than half.   But content and cheerfulness sat on every face as they crowded round the fireside and told or listened to stories of earlier bygone days. 

Slowly and peacefully, the father sank into the grave and soon after the mother.  The few who yet survived them kneeled by their tomb,   rose, and turned away, sadly and mournfully.  But not with bitter cries or despairing lamentation for they knew they should one day meet again.  Once more they mixed with the busy world and their content and cheerfulness were restored.

Goblin Queen
What do you think of that?

Gabriel Grub
(Murmuring quietly) It was very...pretty.

Goblin Queen
(Angry) You miserable man – you……..(frustration) dah!

Narrator 1
The Goblin Queen then lifted up one of her very pliable legs and, flourishing it above her head a little to take aim, administered a good, sound kick to the sexton...

Gabriel Grub
(Pain) Ahh!

Narrator 1
…after which all the goblins in waiting crowded round the wretched sexton and kicked him without mercy.

Goblin Queen
Show him some more!

Narrator 2
Many a time the cloud went and came and many a lesson it taught to Gabriel Grub who looked on with interest that nothing could diminish, despite his body smarting with pain from the frequent goblin kicks.  He saw that men worked hard, earned their scanty bread with lives of labour, and were cheerful and happy. He saw that women were the most often far superior to sorrow, adversity and distress. 

Above all, he saw that men and women like himself, who snarled at the mirth and cheerfulness of others, were the foulest weeds on the fair surface of the earth; and setting all the good of the world against the evil, he came to the conclusion that it was a very decent and respectable world after all.

Narrator 1
No sooner had he formed this thought than the cloud which closed over the last picture seemed to settle on his senses and lull him into drowsiness.  One by one, the goblins faded from sight and as the last one disappeared, he sank into sleep.

Narrator 2
The day had broken when Gabriel Grub awoke and found himself lying full-length on a flat gravestone in the churchyard, with the wicker bottle empty by his side.   The stone, on which he had first seen the Goblin Queen seated, stood bolt upright before him.  His coat, spade, and lantern lay scattered on the ground, all well-whitened by the night’s frost. 

Gabriel Grub
Did this really happen…were there goblins here..?  (Pain) Aaah!

Narrator 2
The acute pain in his shoulders and other parts when he attempted to rise assured him that the kicking of the goblins was certainly not a dream.  So Gabriel Grub rose painfully to his feet as well as he could and, brushing the frost from his coat, put it on and turned his face toward the town.

Narrator 1
But he was an altered man and could not bear the thought of returning to a place where his repentance would be scoffed at and his reformation not believed.   He hesitated for a few moments…and then turned away to wander where he might and seek his bread elsewhere. 

The lantern, spade and wicker bottle were found that day in the churchyard.   At first, there were a great many speculations in the town about the sexton’s fate, but it was speedily determined that he had been carried away by the goblins.  And there were not wanting some very credible witnesses to even stranger sights.

Townsperson 1
(Above the murmuration) I distinctly saw him whisking through the air on the back of a chestnut horse that was blind in one eye, and it had the hind-quarters of a lion, and the tail of a bear.

Narrator 2
At length, all this was devoutly believed, and the new sexton used to exhibit to the curious - for a trifling fee of course - a good-sized piece of the church weathercock, which had been kicked off by the chestnut horse in its flight and picked up by himself in the churchyard, a year or two afterwards. 

Narrator 1
Unfortunately, some 10 years afterwards, these stories were somewhat disturbed by the unlooked-for reappearance of Gabriel Grub.  A ragged, contented, rheumatic old man.  He told his story to the clergyman and the mayor and, in time, it began to be received as a matter of history. 

Narrator 2
Having misplaced their confidence once, the believers in the weathercock tale were not easily prevailed upon to part with it again.  So they looked as wise as they could, shrugged their shoulders and made their excuses.

Townsperson 2
He must have drunk all the gin, and then fallen asleep on the tombstone.

Townsperson 1
I say that he saw no goblins or cavern; he has just seen more of the world and grown wiser.

Narrator 2
Be the matter how it may, as Gabriel Grub was afflicted with rheumatism to the end of his days, this story has at least one moral. 

Narrator 1
That if a man or woman turn sulky and drink by themselves at Yuletide, they make up their mind to be not a bit the better for it.

Let the spirits be never as good, or let them be even as many degrees beyond proof, as those which Gabriel Grub saw in the goblin’s cavern on Christmas Eve. 

ENDS