Villains   These days I’m thinking of the great connivers — legends of the stage. They swarm around the bloated figure (somehow still alive) of his lordship — excellency! — renowned for his cruel caprices — the Duke of This or the Don of That, dispensing his last edicts, threats, and favors. They bow, they kiss his ring, they chuckle at his jokes, they cast their eyes around the throne room, sizing up their rivals. They vie to clean up his messes, they smile and scrape, they scramble like puppies for the royal teat — each tries to guess who will stumble, overstep. By act V, scene IV, they’re sharpening their knives.     © Michael Fleming Dummerston, Vermont January 2026