I am currently writing a ten-page play based on the Sherlock Holmes stories. This is an excerpt from it.
SCENE: An absinthe parlour in Paris. There is a large bar at the back of the stage, and there are round tables in front. The decor is very bohemian.
AT RISE: Sherlock Holmes, Dr John Watson, and Irene Adler are sitting at one of the round tables. They each have a highball glass of absinthe.
SHERLOCK HOLMES Watson, I feel rather peculiar.
IRENE ADLER (Tutting). Sherlock…
DR JOHN WATSON It’s the absinthe, Sherlock. It will do things only a man could dream –
SHERLOCK HOLMES I do not dream, Watson. Dreaming is for fools, and I do not suffer fools.
IRENE ADLER You really are a silly little man sometimes. Why must you always insist on having the upper hand?
SHERLOCK HOLMES Miss Adler, that is an elementary assumption on your part, and I do not wish to entertain it any further.
IRENE ADLER (Sipping from her glass). Only your silence would make that so, yet I still hear you humbugging.
DR JOHN WATSON I do not expect that Holmes will be well equipped to see himself through the doors of 221B unaided by the end of this evening.
SHERLOCK HOLMES (Waving him off). Nonsense!
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