[Thunder and Lightening. Enter Three Witches]

When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

When the hurlyburly's done,
When the battle's lost and won.

That will be ere the dawn of sun.

Where the place?

Upon the tarmac before the 7’11.

There to meet with Buffy,
The Slayer of the Vampires.

I come, Miss Kittyfantastico!

Modem calls.

Anon.

Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
Hover through the fog and filthy air.

[Enter Buffy and Dawn, as Don, in boy’s attire]

Pardon kindly ones, we are but new
To this Sunny Dale, and weary from our travels.
We seek safe harbor and direction.
Know you the way to Revello Dr?

Oh, you’re early.
Um, All hail, Buffy! Hail to thee, Slayer of Vampires!
Into each generation, a Slayer is born.
The Chosen One born to each generation.

The one girl, in all the world chosen
To bear the strength and skills to hunt the vampires.

Fie, a pox upon it, I have heard this all before.

All hail, Dawn, hail to thee, Key of Keys!
Lesser than Buffy, and greater.
Hunted by Glory. Glorious green light
Made human shape, sister.

Hey! I’m in hiding.

Oh, sacred duty, blady, blah, blah.
Is this a stake which I see before me,
The big end toward my hand? Go, I clutch thee not.
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A stake of the mind, a false creation,
A buzzing bee upon my ear to cry, “Duty.”
When all I desire is my seeming of a life.
Whatever! I seek a profile that is low.
Shut up.

[Men in tweed run across stage pursued by vampires]

Once more into the breach I am now thrown,
Lest these be some vamp’s Taster’s Choice.

[Exuent Buffy]

So, hmmm.

Hmmm.

A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap,
And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:--
'Give me,' quoth I:
'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries.
Her husband's to Alaska gone, master o' the Tiger:
But in a sieve I'll thither sail,
And, like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.

What is it that you will do?

Do, I will cry 'woe!' Tara, Tara,
The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead,
and vengeance for't
Not dropp'd down yet

Not dropp’d down yet!
Thou hast put Santa Barbara to the sack.

Weeping willow bend to remember,
This is a comedy, a story that begins
In tragedy, and ends in joy.
A Winter’s Tale.

I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture
Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart:
Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen;
For selfsame wind that I should speak withal
Is kindling coals that fires all my breast,
And burns me up with flames that tears would quench.
To weep is to make less the depth of grief:
Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me.

Yes, yes, revenge.
You play this song nightly.
Now what of my chestnuts?

I should go to find my sister, the Slayer.

Good Willow, why mournest thou?

Good witch, for my ladies death.

I think her soul is in hell, madonna.

I know her soul is in heaven, witch.

The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your ladies
soul being in heaven. Take away the gentle witch, fool.

[Enter Xander of Sunnydale]

Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those
that are fools, let them use their talents.

Away! you are an ass
that is not made to bear

But, mistresses, remember that I am an
ass; though it be not written down,
Yet forget not, that I am an ass.
I am a wise fellow, and, which is more, an officer,
and, which is more, a householder, and, which is
more, as pretty a piece of flesh as any is in
Sunnydale, and one that knows the law, go to; and a
rich fellow enough, go to; and a fellow that hath
had losses, and one that hath two gowns and every
thing handsome about him. Bring her away. O that
I had been writ down an ass!

Yes, yes, you’re an ass.
What of my chestnuts?

[Enter Buffy]

As the poet would say, Aye Caramba.
Did ever Dian so become a grove
As this lady the parking lot with her princely gate?
O, be thou Dian?

No, Dian, but Buffy.
And no tree am I becoming.
Who is this Machiavellian
Who studies such goodly speech?

Hey, I resent that!
Or possibly thank you.

Either would suit,
And more to the point, can you direct
This my sis,

Brother, I am her brother.

My brother and I to Revello Dr?

Let us put action to words and
Make you become like a tree and go.

[Exuent Dawn, Buffy and Xander]

Now, about my rump fed runyon?

I’ll lend you a wind.
When thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
Was there not a battle to be won and lost?

[Enter Giles, the Watcher, Oz, the werewolf]

Adam is a desperate homicide;
He fighteth as one weary of his life.
The other demons, like lions wanting food,
Do rush upon us as their hungry prey.

Oh, good, I grew worried
In their absence, now the sense of them
Closure brings.

[Witches disappear]

For none but Bezoars and Gavrok
Sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten!
And the Slayer not yet come.

Where's the Watcher? I have news for him.

Jesse, thrice welcome to us.

Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd:
Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?
Be not dismay'd, for succor is at hand:
A holy lass hither with me I bring,
Joan the good slayer of the vampires,
Ordained to raise this tedious siege
And drive the demons forth the bounds of Sunnydale.
Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words,
For they are certain and unfallible.

[Re-enter Jesse, with Wesley, as Joan the Vampire Slayer, as a woman in men’s armor]

Fair lass, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats?

Ozwald, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me?
Where is the Watcher? Come, come from behind;
I know thee well, though never seen before.

With their eyes. take no notice that I am not in cambria.
That Wesley, who should lose his Watcher’s birthright by his father's denial,
His own sex deny and would then take up a Slayer’s arms.
Ha!

Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me:
In private will I talk with thee apart.
Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.

Watcher, I am by birth a simple Lass,
My wit untrain'd in any kind of art.
Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased
To shine on my poor estate:
And in a vision full of neon
Will'd me free my country from calamity:
My courage try by combat, if thou darest,
Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate,
If thou receive me for thy warlike Slayer.

Joan, thou hast astonish'd me with high terms:
Only this proof I'll of thy valour make,
In single combat thou shalt buckle with me,
And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true;
Otherwise I renounce all confidence.

I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword,
Deck'd with five cross-de-luces on each side.

[Here they fight, and Wesley overcomes, hey he’s like post S3 Angel Wesley, go with it.]

Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon
And fightest with the sword of Deborah.

Assign'd am I to be the Demon’s scourge.
This night the siege assuredly I'll raise:
Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days,
Since I have entered into these wars.
The Master is like a circle in the water,
His progency grown too large, and who
Never ceaseth to enlarge themselves
Till by broad spreading is disperse to nought.

The Master? We wage battle on the forces
Of that dread demon of science Adam

Huh?!

[Here an alarum again: and Adam pursueth Giles, the watcher, and driveth him: then Wesley, driving demons before him, and exit after them then re-enter Adam]

Here, here it comes. I'll have a bout with thee;
Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee:
And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest.

[A short alarum]

[Exit Wesley and Adam fighting]

[Enter Buffybot]

Hellooo! Helloooo!

[Exit Buffybot]