" WOLF !  WOLF !"


(with some music)
   John Molineux

The show was written for adults and is also well suited to children of 7 and older

The wolf is in the dock, facing
the judgement of all mankind.
Legends, traditions, real events,
prejudice and truth,
humour, solemnity and tenderness
all bear witness .
Everyone has the right to judge ...
or simply to dream.

The Wolf-leader enters, swaying to the wild skirling of his bagpipes.
The music stops.
His eyes are riveted on the silver bars of a cage,
a deep, black cage.

‘‘ He’s here, he freely followed me.
And he, at least, knows why:
he’s come to put his life in the balance,
to plead for the survival of his entire people!
But you, why are you here,
Fascination? Fear?
And yet, Mankind, you’ve shared his company for longer
than with any other animal on Earth.
Well before the Roman she-wolf suckled
 Romulus and Remus, a woman had surely welcomed
some orphaned wolf-cubs to her breast.
Yet I’m certain that you still don’t know who he really is.
Only one solution remains: Justice must be done!

The Court enters!!  Make way for Truth!!! ’’

The Judge’s desk groans under the weight of defence and prosecution files.
A stand awaits the witnesses.
The cage is at the centre of the court: he’s surely here.
Ready to hear faithful accounts and blind prejudices.
Ready to reply to ancient myths
and to face today’s merciless media.

 Ready to defend his people 'til his last breath.
Ready above all to let himself be truly known,
to offer himself to all open hearts.
He’s ready ...  he’s here!


 Witness follows witness. Each slips out of his own era,
 lays down his truths and shares his emotions.
Each has his word to say, words that must be heard,
that can no longer stay silent.
Each word carries the tang of its home soil,
echoing to all the memories of Earth itself.
The witnesses speak.
Laughter chases tears, tomfoolery gives way to sincerity.
The musician sings his word, the doctor prescribes,
 and the King decrees.
All contribute a piece of the puzzle, all reveal a clue to the enigma.

And from the depths of his cage, he listens, he waits.

Is he at last really seen, known, recognised? The court, the judge, the jury:
 have they faithfully given him all their attention?
Have you listened with all your heart?
Will you render true justice?

Who is he?

Who is he?


The Defendant's File

Scholars call him Canis lupus; but, like all notorious wrongdoers, he uses countless aliases wherever he prowls.
 Wolf, lupo, volf, loup, ar bleizh...
So many tongues, so many names...
(Native Americans sometimes call him 'brother'...  will you be able to guess his real name?)
He is older than Man's memory...
(...and as young as your heart)

He inhabits plains and mountains, forests and moors; he runs over Arctic snows and under the Indian sun; the Pacific Ocean and the Red Sea are familiar to his eyes...
(He's at his ease where horizons are boundless, where the odour of Man is rare)