Never Seek To Tell Thy Love - The Adaptation

EXT. AN OPEN FIELD - DAY

CAPTION: SOMEWHERE IN A FIELD IN ENGLAND - 1799

Under the shadow of a huge oak tree, on a bright summers day, sits WILLIAM BLAKE. Dressed in a bright tunic, High brown trousers up to his breast and fluffy collar, he sits deep in thought, a feathered pen in hand, and paper on his lap.

He moves the feathered pen up to his mouth, still thinking. It touches the tip of his nose tickling him.

He sneezes violently all over the paper.He looks around for people, then cheekily wipes the paper with his sleeve.

He points the pen to the sky. He’s thought of something. He dips the tip of the pen into an ink-pot sitting next to him and begins to write.

He writes almost like he’s conducting an orchestra.

He then stops, raises the feather pen up to the sky and taps the paper once more. He's done. He smiles to himself, admiring his work.

BLAKE
Aha, indeed this is another one to piss off them
A-level students in a few hundred years time.
What do you say Inky old bean?

An ink-pot, INKY, turns to him, develops a face and begins to speak.

INKY
Hurrah, indeed, and maybe a few students of
the media too!

BLAKE
Indeed, indeed Inky! Oh, you are naughty...
but I like you.

He lets out a sigh and places the pen by his side.With that, a bird swoops down and lands next to him. He begins to talk with a cockney accent.

BIRD
Oi, that’s mine you cheeky ponce!

The bird picks up the feathered pen and flies off. Blake unperturbed, follows the birds flight with his eyes until its out of sight.

BLAKE
Wonder what his problem is?

INKY
Oh probably just the fact you jumped on him
earlier, pinned him down and proceeded to pluck
a feather from his arse.

Blake chuckles to himself.

BLAKE
Oh, yes, you’re right. One had forgotten.

He looks back at the piece of paper, stands up, and begins to read.

BLAKE (CONT'D)
Now listen to this.

Blake starts to prance back and forth in front of the tree, the paper held out in front of him in one hand.

BLAKE (CONT'D)
Never seek to tell thy love. Love that never told
can be; For the gentle wind does move.
Silently, invisibly.

The ink-pot nods and smiles approvingly.

INKY
Very good, very good.

BLAKE
Don’t interrupt, I’m not finished.
(beat)
I told my love, I told my love, I told her
all my heart, Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears
-- Ah, she doth depart.

He holds his hand on his heart, looks up to the heavens and lets out a deep sigh.

BLAKE (CONT'D)
This happened you know. Horrid little tart!
Anyway... (clears his throat)
Soon as she was gone from me...

A modern day SCHOOLBOY (16), bowl-cut, earring, blazer on inside out, comes bowling up to Blake who pauses mid-flow.

SCHOOLBOY
What the fuck are you on about Blake?

He throws a haymaker at Blake, hitting him square on the nose.Blake flies off-balance, like a tumbling Audley Harrison getting a slap from an old lady, hitting the ground with a thump.

His body bounces slightly, like a beaten Tekken fighter.

The frame turns into to a beat-em up style, computer game frame.

VOICE OVER
School-boy wins!

The schoolboy faces the camera, crosses his arms and laughs like a hyena.

The frame returns to normal.

The schoolboy starts to walk away, then in a sudden turn, he looks back at Blake, lying motionless on the floor.

SCHOOLBOY
Homo!

The schoolboy laughs cheekily and runs away.

INKY has a confused expression on it’s labelled face.He turns to the camera, gives a little wink and begins to speak.

INKY
He started so I’ll finish. (beat)... a traveller
came by, silently, invisibly... O, was no deny.

Inky smiles, winks again, then returns to a normal ink-pot, falls forward and spills ink all over the grass.

Blake then stirs and sits-up. Looking dazed, he grimaces and rubs his head.

BLAKE
Hmmm, I’ll probably write a poem about
this one day.


THE END