Karma: A Re-incarnation Play: In Prologue, Epilogue & Three Acts

In Short

This is a three-act drama framed by a prologue and epilogue, centering on a modern-day British agent and his ailing wife. As she faces a crisis of health and spirit, she experiences a series of vivid regressions into past incarnations in Ancient Egypt, Classical Greece, and Renaissance Venice. In each life, she struggles with a possessive, selfish love that inadvertently hinders her husband’s higher calling. The play has endured as a sincere, if esoteric, meditation on the idea that souls reunite to master the lessons of selfless devotion.

The Story

In a London bedroom, Phillip Lattin, a dedicated Foreign Office agent, tends to his wife, who is physically and mentally exhausted. She suffers from an inexplicable, haunting dread of Egypt, despite her husband’s deep professional passion for the region. As she grows weaker, she is visited by a mysterious doctor who acts as a spiritual catalyst, guiding her into a state of deep, soul-level memory.

The drama then shifts into three distinct past lives. In Ancient Egypt, the couple appears as Menophis, a priest-in-training, and Nefertiti. Here, Nefertiti’s desperate desire to keep Menophis for herself leads her to sabotage his sacred commitment to his mission. Centuries later, in 325 B.C. Athens, they are Phocion, a general, and his wife, Lydia. Once again, Lydia’s fear of losing her husband leads her into a dangerous, secret bargain with Alexander the Great to secure Phocion's safety, a move that compromises his integrity and breaks his spirit. Finally, in Renaissance Venice, they appear as Paulo, a struggling painter, and his wife, Lucia. Lucia, fearing poverty, approaches a powerful patron, Damiano di Medici, to advance Paulo’s career, only to have her interference backfire, leading to her husband’s imprisonment and her own deep remorse.

Returning to the present, the epilogue finds the wife "awakened" by these memories. She understands that in each life, her attempt to own her husband—to prioritize their earthly comfort over his spiritual or professional mission—was the source of her suffering. By recognizing this pattern, she finally achieves the clarity needed to let go of her possessive fear. She urges Phillip to return to his work in Egypt, no longer viewing his mission as a rival to their love, but as the purpose she is now ready to support. Phillip, touched by her transformation and feeling the stirrings of his own latent memories, accepts this new perspective, and the couple finds a profound, unified peace.

How It Unfolds

The onset of illness Mrs. Lattin suffers from a mysterious, soul-deep malaise in her London home, while her husband, Phillip, grapples with his devotion to his work in Egypt. A gentle, enigmatic doctor arrives, not merely to treat her body, but to unlock the hidden, spiritual roots of her suffering.

The Egyptian vow The scene shifts to the banks of the Nile, where the young Menophis struggles between his divine calling and the earthly, seductive pull of Nefertiti. She successfully thwarts his commitment to the Temple, binding him to her with a promise that echoes across time.

The Athenian compromise In the shadow of the Acropolis, Lydia seeks to protect her husband, the general Phocion, from the looming influence of Alexander the Great. Her misguided effort to save him from death through political maneuvering ultimately shatters his integrity and breaks their domestic peace.

The Venetian betrayal In a studio in Italy, Lucia hopes to lift her husband Paulo out of poverty by involving a dangerous patron in his career. Her interference leads to a confrontation that strips Paulo of his liberty and leaves Lucia devastated by the consequences of her "help."

The cycle broken Back in the modern era, the wife integrates these past failures into a coherent understanding of her soul's journey. She releases her husband from the burden of her possessive anxiety, allowing both of them to move toward their true, shared purpose.

The People

Phillip Lattin is a man of professional integrity and deep, quiet patience. Throughout his incarnations—as Menophis, Phocion, and Paulo—he is consistently drawn to high, noble callings, whether the priesthood, military leadership, or artistic mastery. His struggle is to maintain this focus while being pulled back by his wife’s desperate need for his exclusive attention.

His wife acts as the emotional center of the play. Whether as Nefertiti, Lydia, or Lucia, she is a woman of "strong personality" who loves intensely but lacks the maturity to distinguish between true support and smothering possession. She begins each life wanting to save her husband from his "mission," only to realize at the end of each cycle that her interference was the very thing that caused his downfall. She ends the play significantly changed, having moved from a state of "spiritual torture" to a calm, enlightened acceptance of his purpose.

The Doctor is the architect of their healing. He is unpretentious and simple, appearing less like a medical professional and more like a sage or a priest. He serves as the bridge between their current reality and their past selves, facilitating the "wind and fire" of memory that forces the couple to confront their underlying patterns.

In Its Own Voice

"I have been through this before--I have done this very thing before--long, long ago--injured you somehow!"

In the prologue, the wife first glimpses the recurring truth of her past actions as her health fades.

"There is no 'too late'; what he could do without was added to him."

The doctor offers this final, crucial wisdom in the epilogue to explain how the wife's past mistakes have ultimately served to refine her husband's soul.

What It's Really About

The play argues that love, when it is possessive or fearful, becomes a form of spiritual sabotage. The core conflict isn't between a man and his career, but between the ego’s need for security and the soul’s need for fulfillment. By exploring reincarnation, the text posits that we carry the "results" of our past actions within us as character traits or subconscious tendencies. The ultimate question is whether we can transcend our reflexive patterns of jealousy and fear to reach a higher, more selfless form of partnership. It is a story about shedding the "Little Child" persona to become a mature companion who can support, rather than thwart, a partner’s higher evolution.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the philosophical fiction of the early twentieth century—particularly work that explores the "New Thought" movement or esoteric themes—will find this play compelling. It captures a specific, earnest fascination with reincarnation that was prevalent in the period, treating the concept not as a plot gimmick, but as a framework for emotional redemption. The dialogue is refined and carries a certain Victorian-era gravity, which creates a sense of detachment from the frantic pace of modern life.

However, readers should be prepared for the play’s period attitudes; the wife is consistently portrayed as being defined by her husband’s work, and the domestic dynamics reflect a traditional, mid-century view of gender roles. The pacing is deliberate and rhythmic, favoring introspection over action. If you appreciate writing that prioritizes the "soul’s geography" over external events, you will likely be moved by the way the characters eventually find their way back to one another. What stays with you is the haunting, recurring image of the couple standing together, looking at the same stars and the same river, finally understanding that their love was always meant to be a foundation for growth rather than an anchor for the spirit.