(Curtain opens on huge rock at stage left, Stonecutter in position with pickax raised, just as in frame silhouette narrator is holding, in freeze position; ladder is visible behind rock stage left in darkness. Narrator holds still for a moment, then moves off to left, holding frame always facing the audience.

STONECUTTER (Very stylized movements, holding pickax high, still, swinging down, holding it still. Could have sound-effects of metallic ping as axe hits, some rhythmic pattern of rock-strikes with echo. When her axe strikes, she freezes for a moment, and says):
     Bang! Wham! What is life?
     Only bitter, endless strife?
     I feed my kids with bits of rock!
     I can hardly fill one sock
     With what I earn at this fat rock!

(Lifts axe, holds it above head, freezes)

     Poor me, oh poor, poor me!
     Oh if I could only be
     Rich as rich, not have to slouch,
     But lean back on a silken couch
     Eating chocolates, sipping drinks,
     Wearing ermines, cashmeres, minks,
     Not have to cut this stubborn rock
     But lounge on silk and happily talk
     To myself in a mirror in luxury’s lap,
     And sleep and wake, and wake and nap,
     And never work to my life’s end
     with more gold than I could ever spend!
     OH, I WISH I WERE RICH!

(Angel appears on stepladder top in spotlight. She holds a long piece of white silk cloth in front of her, which she ripples. The effect is that she is not personified, not a person, but a shaft of light, speaking. She keeps the cloth moving as she speaks. There might be mysterious theme music whenever the angel appears; electronic, space-sounds, strumming, dhikr)

ANGEL:
     Oh Stonecutter, quick as you said the word
     It rose up to heaven and was heard.
     Then Allah sent me down to see your face
     And find out the nature of your place.
     No words are wasted in this world.
     No sighs of discontent are hurled
     Out of sight with the wind, but spin and spin
     Until you’re taken from the state you’re in!
     I’m an angel appearing in the light of day
     To tell you that you are what you say.
     You are what you say, so beware!
     Right now! Right here! Right here! Right there!

(There’s a flurry of activity: Rock is pulled off stage left. Couch is rolled on stage right to stage front center. It might be two chairs with a couch-front attached, to look luxurious. Rich robes and heavy jewels are placed onto and around Stonecutter, who is pushed back onto couch in reclining position, and servant brings her food and drinks on a tray, which she sips. Servant stands at her side, in attendance. Someone plays on a musical instrument. Some interlude to let her enjoy her wealth, which she does, immensely. Then servant brings her The Mirror of Vanity.)

SERVANT (Offering mirror):
     Here’s your mirror, madam, please
     Let us serve you, bring you teas,
     Cakes, sweets, gold in purses,
     Protect your ears from oaths and curses,
     And even death’s long, silent hearses.

(Stonecutter will henceforth be designated: Rich Woman)

RICH WOMAN:
     Rich! Richer! Richest! That’s me!
     This is plain for all to see!
     That rock is now just memory!
     Silk, brocades, pearls, rubies, gold,
     I needn’t work, I won’t grow old,
     But sit with this mirror all day long,
     Play chess, or checkers, or mah-jong!
     What joy! What bliss! I’m richest on earth!
     This is what I deserved from birth!

(Trumpeter appears announcing the arrival of the Queen! Music of entry. Dancers precede Queen. Chorus enters, maybe two people, as heralds, reciting in unison.)

CHORUS:
     The Queen is here! The Queen has arrived!
     Make way for her royal Self alive!
     She’s great, she’s grand, she’s pearled and jaded,
     And by a parasol she’s shaded!

(Queen finally enters, slowly and majestically from stage right, dancers in front of her, acrobats, whatever. A servant, a comic character, as in Japanese Kabuki, carries a huge parasol to shade her from the sun. When she comes to stage center, she stops, turns to see rich woman reclining, speaks.)

QUEEN:
     Adjust my parasol, my lady,
     Keep my person cool and shady!
     Queens must always be protected
     By the people who’ve erected
     Kings and Queens to be above them,
     And then their Kings and Queens will love them!

(Queen sees rich woman on couch)

     Oh, and give a coin to that poor thing,
     Or here, just give her my diamond ring!

(Servant goes to Rich Woman, gives ring, she takes it, in shock. Trumpet blasts again, Queen moves on. Rich Woman has watched all this with shock on her face. Jaw dropped. Eyes wide. Queen passes by slowly, and exits. Parasol carrier has gotten distracted, following behind Queen, tarries, in a little comic episode, twirling it, doing a little hop or jig, then realizes the Queen has gone on, and hurries off with parasol aloft to protect her from the sun.)

RICH WOMAN (Throwing away ring, contemptuously):
     It’s not enough to just be rich!
     Now I’ve got a royal itch!
     Why don’t I have a parasol
     Like that Queen, does she get all
     The best this mean world has to give?
     With no parasol I just can’t live!
     Why,Oh Why, Oh simply Why,
     Instead of that Queen can’t there be I?
     I WANT TO BE QUEEN!

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