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diff --git a/23229-h/23229-h.htm b/23229-h/23229-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9dace46 --- /dev/null +++ b/23229-h/23229-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1125 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>For Love of the King</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.headingsummary { margin-left: 5%;} + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: gray;} + + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">For Love of the King, by Oscar Wilde</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, For Love of the King, by Oscar Wilde + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: For Love of the King + a Burmese Masque + + +Author: Oscar Wilde + + + +Release Date: October 28, 2007 [eBook #23229] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR LOVE OF THE KING*** +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the [1922] Methuen and Co./Jarrold and Sons +edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1>FOR<br /> +LOVE OF THE KING</h1> +<p style="text-align: center">A BURMESE MASQUE</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">by</span><br /> +OSCAR WILDE</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">methuen & +co. ltd.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">36 essex street w.c.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">london</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><!-- page ii--><a +name="pageii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. ii</span><i>First +Published by Methuen & Co. Ltd. in 1922</i></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>This Edition on handmade paper +is limited to 1000 copies</i></p> +<h2><!-- page iii--><a name="pageiii"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. iii</span>INTRODUCTORY NOTE</h2> +<p>The very interesting and richly coloured masque or pantomimic +play which is here printed in book form for the first time, was +invented sometime in 1894 or possibly a little earlier. It +was written, not for publication, but as a personal gift to the +author’s friend and friend of his family, Mrs. Chan Toon, +and was sent to her with the letter that follows and explains its +origin.</p> +<p>Mrs. Chan Toon, before her marriage to Mr. Chan Toon, a +Burmese gentleman, nephew of the King of Burma and a barrister of +the Middle Temple, was Miss <!-- page iv--><a +name="pageiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. iv</span>Mabel +Cosgrove, the daughter of Mr. Ernest Cosgrove of Lancaster Gate, +a friend of Sir William and Lady Wilde, and herself brought up +with Oscar and his brother Willie.</p> +<p>For a long while Mrs. Chan Toon, who after her husband’s +death became Mrs. Woodhouse-Pearse, refused to permit the masque +to be printed. The late Robert Ross much wanted to include +it in an edition of Wilde’s works, of which it now forms a +part, but he could not obtain its owner’s consent. An +arrangement, however, having been completed, the play is now made +public.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><!-- page v--><a +name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p. v</span><span +class="smcap">Tite Street</span>, <span +class="smcap">Chelsea</span>,<br /> +<i>November</i> 27, 1894</p> +<p><i>My dear Mrs. Chan Toon</i>,</p> +<p><i>I am greatly repentant being so long in acknowledging +receipt of</i> “<i>Told on the Pagoda</i>.” +<i>I enjoyed reading the stories</i>, <i>and much admired their +quaint and delicate charm</i>. <i>Burmah calls to +me</i>.</p> +<p><i>Under another cover I am sending you a fairy play +entitled</i> “<i>For Love of the King</i>,” <i>just +for your own amusement</i>. <i>It is the outcome of long +and luminous talks <!-- page vi--><a name="pagevi"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. vi</span>with your distinguished husband in +the Temple and on the river</i>, <i>in the days when I was +meditating writing a novel as beautiful and as intricate as a +Persian praying-rug</i>. <i>I hope that I have caught the +atmosphere</i>.</p> +<p><i>I should like to see it acted in your Garden House on some +night when the sky is a sheet of violet and the stars like +women’s eyes</i>. <i>Alas</i>, <i>it is not +likely</i>.</p> +<p><i>I am in the throes of a new comedy</i>. <i>I met a +perfectly wonderful person the other day who unconsciously has +irradiated my present with sinuous suggestion</i>: <i>a Swedish +Baron</i>, <i>French in manner</i>, <i>Athenian in mind</i>, +<i>and Oriental in morals</i>. <i>His society is a series +of revelations</i>. . . .</p> +<p><i>I was at Oakley Street on Thursday</i>; <i>my mother tells +me she sends you a letter nearly every week</i>.</p> +<p><!-- page vii--><a name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +vii</span><i>Constance desires to be warmly remembered</i>, +<i>while I</i>, <i>who am bathing my brow in the perfume of +water-lilies</i>, <i>lay myself at the feet of you and +yours</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><i>OSCAR WILDE</i></p> +</blockquote> +<h2><!-- page ix--><a name="pageix"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +ix</span>PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">King Meng Beng</span> (<i>Lord of a +Thousand White Elephants</i>, <i>Countless Umbrellas and other +attributes of greatness</i>).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">U. Rai Gyan Thoo</span> (<i>A Prime +Minister</i>).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Shah Mah Phru</span> (<i>A Girl</i>, +<i>half Italian</i>, <i>half Burmese</i>, <i>of dazzling +beauty</i>).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dhammathat</span> (<i>Legal Adviser to the +Court</i>).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hip Loong</span> (<i>A Chinese Wizard of +great repute</i>).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Moung Pho Mhin</span> (<i>Minister of +Finance</i>).</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Two Envoys from the King of +Ceylon</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Nobles</span>, <span +class="smcap">Courtiers</span>, <span +class="smcap">Soothsayers</span>, <span +class="smcap">Poonygees</span>, <span class="smcap">Dancing +Girls</span>, <span class="smcap">Betel-nut Carriers</span>, +<span class="smcap">Umbrella Bearers</span>, <span +class="smcap">Followers</span>, <span +class="smcap">Servants</span>, <span class="smcap">Slaves</span>, +amongst whom are several <span class="smcap">Chinese</span> but +no <span class="smcap">Indians</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>The Sixteenth +Century</i>.</p> +<h2><!-- page 1--><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +1</span>ACT I</h2> +<h3>SCENE I</h3> +<p><i>The palace of the</i> <span class="smcap">king of +burmah</span>. <i>The scene is laid in the Hall of a +Hundred Doors</i>. <i>In the distance can be seen the +moat</i>, <i>the waiting elephants</i>, <i>and the peacocks +promenading proudly in the blinding sunshine of late +afternoon</i>. <i>The scene discovers</i> <span +class="smcap">king meng beng</span> <i>seated on a raised cushion +sewn with rubies</i>, <i>under a canopy supported by four +attendants</i>, <i>motionless as bronze figures</i>. <i>By +his side is a betel-nut box</i>, <i>glittering with +gems</i>. <i>On either side of him</i>, <i>but </i><!-- +page 2--><a name="page2"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +2</span><i>much lower down</i>, <i>are the</i> <span +class="smcap">two ambassadors of the king of ceylon</span>, +<i>bearers of the King of Ceylon’s consent to the marriage +of his only daughter to Meng Beng in two years’ time</i>, +<i>men of grave</i>, <i>majestic mien</i>, <i>clad in flowing +robes almost monastic in their white simplicity</i>. +<i>They smoke gravely at the invitation of</i> <span +class="smcap">meng beng</span>.</p> +<p><i>Round about are grouped the courtiers</i>, <i>the +poonygees</i>, <i>and the kneeling servants</i>, <i>while in the +background wait the dancing girls</i>. <i>Banners</i>, +<i>propelled with a measured rhythm</i>, <i>create an agreeable +breeze</i>. <i>On a great table of gold stand goblets of +gold and heaped-up fruits</i>. <i>Everywhere will be +observed the emblems of the Royal Peacock and the Sacred White +Elephant</i>. <i>Burmese musical instruments sound an +abrupt but charming discord</i>. <i>The poinsettias flower +punctuates points of deepest </i><!-- page 3--><a +name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 3</span><i>colour from +out of vases fashioned like the lotus</i>. <i>Orchids are +everywhere</i>. <i>The indescribable scent of Burmah steals +across the footlights</i>. <i>The glow</i>, <i>the +colour</i>, <i>the sun-swept vista sweeps across the +senses</i>. <span class="smcap">the king</span> <i>claps +his hands</i>. <i>The</i> <span class="smcap">dancing +girls</span>, <i>at the signal</i>, <i>advance</i>. <i>They +are clad in dresses made of fish scales</i>, <i>which are +fastened with diamonds and pale emeralds</i>, <i>to imitate the +upthrown spray on the crest of a wave</i>. <i>The dance +concluded</i>, <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">cingalese +ambassadors</span> <i>rise and prepare to take ceremonious leave +of</i> <span class="smcap">the king</span>, <i>who hands to +them</i>, <i>through his</i> <span class="smcap">vizier</span>, +<i>his message to His Majesty of Ceylon</i>, <i>inscribed on palm +leaves and enclosed in a bejewelled casket</i>.</p> +<p><i>Many flowery speeches pass</i>. <i>Exit</i> +(<i>L.</i>), <i>walking backwards</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">the king</span> <i>expresses a desire for +rest </i><!-- page 4--><a name="page4"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 4</span><i>before starting by the Moon of +Taboung </i><a name="citation4"></a><a href="#footnote4" +class="citation">[4]</a> <i>for the Pagoda of Golden +Flowers</i>.</p> +<p><i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">meng beng</span> (<i>C.</i>), +<i>an alcove of satin hangings which commands a view of the great +hall</i>.</p> +<p><i>The Crowd break up into groups</i>. <span +class="smcap">u. rai gyan thoo</span> <i>and</i><span +class="smcap"> moung pho mhin</span> <i>converse on the tendency +of the King to interference in affairs of State</i>; <i>his +extreme youth and delicacy of temperament</i>; <i>the pity that +the marriage is to be so long delayed</i>; <i>the necessity to +find him some distraction in the meantime</i>.</p> +<p><i>Suddenly the tom-toms sound loudly</i>. <i>There is +much movement</i>. <i>The moon rises over the +sea</i>. <i>Torches flare as the attendants move to and fro +in the gardens beyond</i>.</p> +<p><i>The White Elephant of the King</i>, <i>with </i><!-- page +5--><a name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 5</span><i>its +trappings of gold</i>, <i>is led to the entrance where</i>, <i>at +a word</i>, <i>it sinks obediently to the ground</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">the king</span> <i>appears</i>. +<i>He has changed his gay apple-green dress to one of more sombre +hue</i>. <i>He enters the howdah</i>—<i>the elephant +rises</i>—<i>the procession starts</i>. <i>It +consists of not fewer than two hundred persons</i>, <i>keeping in +view of the audience until lost by a bend in the avenue</i>.</p> +<h3><!-- page 6--><a name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +6</span>SCENE II</h3> +<p style="text-align: center">THE PAGODA OF GOLDEN FLOWERS</p> +<p style="text-align: center">Midnight</p> +<p><i>Surrounded by Peepul-trees</i>, <i>the great Htee</i>, <a +name="citation6"></a><a href="#footnote6" +class="citation">[6]</a> <i>with its crown of a myriad +jewels</i>, <i>rises towards the violet</i>, <i>star-studded +sky</i>, <i>its golden bells tinkling in a soft +night-wind</i>.</p> +<p><i>When the curtain rises</i>, <i>the circular platform is +deserted</i>. <i>Statues of Buddha seated and recumbent +fill the numberless niches in the wall</i>, <i>and before each +burn </i><!-- page 7--><a name="page7"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 7</span><i>long candles</i>; <i>heaped-up pink +roses and japonica on brass trays are lit from above by swinging +coloured lamps</i>. <i>At intervals are stalls laden with +fruit and cheroots</i>. <i>All is mysterious</i>, +<i>solemn</i>, <i>beautiful</i>.</p> +<p><i>A deep Burmese gong tolls</i>. <i>People emerge from +the four staircases that lead up to the platform</i>. +<i>Men</i>, <i>women</i>, <i>and children</i>, <i>all in gala +attire</i>. <i>The young people conversing</i>, +<i>gesticulating</i>, <i>smiling</i>. <i>The older +people</i>, <i>more subdued</i>, <i>carry beads and votive +offering to Buddha</i>. <i>Charming Burmese girls</i>, +<i>with huge cigars</i>, <i>meet and greet handsome Burmese men +smoking cheroots and wearing flowers in their ears</i>. +<i>Children play silently with coloured balls</i>. <i>In +the corners</i>, <i>under canopies</i>, <i>are seated +fortune-tellers</i>, <i>busy casting horoscopes</i>. <i>It +is a veritable riot of colour</i>, <i>with never a discordant +note</i>.</p> +<p><!-- page 8--><a name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +8</span><i>Through the crowd</i> <span class="smcap">the +king</span> <i>passes alone and unrecognised</i>, <i>and +disappears through double doors of heavily carved teak +wood</i>. <i>He has hardly passed when</i> <span +class="smcap">mah phru</span>, <i>a very lovely girl</i>, +<i>enters in distress</i>. <i>She whispers that she desires +an audience of the King who has come amongst them</i>. +<i>The few who hear her shrug their shoulders</i>, <i>smile</i>, +<i>and pass on</i>. <i>They are incredulous</i>. +<i>She goes from group to group</i>, <i>but the people turn from +her with disdain</i>. <i>Then the great doors open</i>, +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">the king</span> <i>is +seen</i>. <i>The girl throws herself</i>, <i>Oriental +fashion</i>, <i>in his path</i>. <i>Her beauty and her +pathos arrest his attention and he waves aside those who would +interfere</i>. <i>She implores</i> <span class="smcap">the +king’s</span> <i>protection</i>. <i>She is willing to +be his slave</i>. <i>He listens with deep +attention</i>. <i>She explains that since her +father’s death she has been continuously persecuted by the +village people </i><!-- page 9--><a name="page9"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 9</span><i>on the double count of her Italian +blood and her poverty</i>.</p> +<p><i>The girl invites him to come to her hut in the forest and +verify what she says</i>. <i>With a gesture he signifies +that he will follow where she leads</i>. <i>She +rises</i>. <i>The crowd gathers round</i>—<i>all are +hushed to silence</i>. <span class="smcap">the king</span>, +<i>as one entranced</i>, <i>puts aside all who would in any way +interfere</i>. <i>The girl precedes him</i>, <i>going from +the Pagoda towards the night</i>. <i>When she reaches the +great staircase</i>, <i>she beckons</i>, <i>Oriental fashion</i>, +<i>with downward hand</i>. <i>The scene should</i>, <i>in +grouping and colour</i>, <i>make for rare beauty</i>.</p> +<h3><!-- page 10--><a name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +10</span>SCENE III</h3> +<p><i>A humble dhunni-thatched hut</i>, <i>set amidst the +whispering grandeur of the jungle</i>, <i>with its mighty +trees</i>, <i>its trackless paths</i>, <i>its indescribable +silence</i>. <i>The curtain discovers</i> <span +class="smcap">mah phru</span><b> </b><i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">the king</span>, <i>who expresses his amazement at +the loneliness and the poverty of her lot</i>. <i>She +explains that poverty is not what frightens her</i>, <i>but the +enmity of those who live yonder</i>, <i>and who make it almost +impossible for her to sell her cucumbers or her +pineapples</i>. <span class="smcap">the +king’s</span><b> </b><i>gaze never leaves the face or +figure of the girl</i>. <i>He declares that he will protect +her</i>—<i>that he </i><!-- page 11--><a +name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span><i>will build +her a home here in the shadow of the loneliness around +them</i>. <i>He has two years of an unfettered +freedom</i>—<i>for those years he can command his +life</i>. <i>He loves her</i>, <i>he desires +her</i>—<i>they will find a Paradise together</i>. +<i>The girl trembles with joy</i>—<i>with +fear</i>—<i>with surprise</i>. “And after two +years?” <i>she asks</i>. “Death,” <i>he +answers</i>.</p> +<h2><!-- page 15--><a name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +15</span>ACT II</h2> +<h3>SCENE I</h3> +<p><i>The jungle once more</i>. <i>Time</i>: +<i>noonday</i>. <i>In place of the hut is a building</i>, +<i>half Burmese</i>, <i>half Italian villa</i>, <i>of white +Chunam</i>, <i>with curled roofs rising on roofs</i>, <i>gilded +and adorned with spiral carvings and a myriad golden and +jewel-encrusted bells</i>. <i>On the broad verandahs are +thrown Eastern carpets</i>, <i>rugs</i>, <i>embroideries</i>.</p> +<p><i>The world is sun-soaked</i>. <i>The surrounding trees +stand sentinel-like in the burning light</i>. <i>Burmese +servants squat </i><!-- page 16--><a name="page16"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 16</span><i>motionless</i>, <i>smoking on the +broad white steps that lead from the house to the +garden</i>. <i>The crows croak drowsily at +intervals</i>. <i>Parrots scream intermittently</i>. +<i>The sound of a guitar playing a Venetian love-song can be +heard coming from the interior</i>. <i>Otherwise life +apparently sleeps</i>. <i>Two elderly retainers break the +silence</i>.</p> +<p>“When will the Thakin tire of this?” <i>one asks +the other in kindly contempt</i>.</p> +<p>“The end is already at hand. I read it at dawn +to-day.”</p> +<p>“Whence will it come?”</p> +<p>“I know not. It is written that one heart will +break.”</p> +<p>“He will leave her?”</p> +<p>“He will leave her. He will have no +choice—who can war with Fate?”</p> +<p><!-- page 17--><a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +17</span><i>The sun shifts a little</i>; <i>a light breeze kisses +the motionless palm leaves</i>—<i>they quiver +gracefully</i>. <i>Attendants appear R. and L. bearing a +great Shamiana</i> (<i>tent</i>), <i>silver poles</i>, <i>carved +chairs</i>, <i>foot supports</i>, <i>fruit</i>, <i>flowers</i>, +<i>embroidered fans</i>. <i>Three musicians in +semi-Venetian-Burmese costume follow with their +instruments</i>. <i>The tent erected</i>, <i>enter</i> (C.) +<span class="smcap">meng beng</span><b> </b><i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">mah phru</span>, <i>followed by two Burmese women +carrying two tiny children in Burmese fashion on their +hips</i>.</p> +<p><i>The servants retire to a distance</i>. <span +class="smcap">meng beng</span><b> </b><i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">mah phru</span><b> </b><i>seat themselves on carven +chairs</i>; <i>the children are placed at their feet and given +coloured glass balls to play with</i>. <span +class="smcap">meng beng</span><b> </b><i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">mah phru</span><b> </b><i>gaze at them with deep +affection and then at each other</i>.</p> +<p><i>The musicians play light</i>, <i>zephyr-like </i><!-- page +18--><a name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +18</span><i>airs</i>. <span class="smcap">meng +beng</span><b> </b><i>and</i> <span class="smcap">mah +phru</span><b> </b><i>talk together</i>. <span +class="smcap">meng beng</span><b> </b><i>smokes a cigar</i>, +<span class="smcap">mah phru</span><b> </b><i>has one of the big +yellow cheroots affected by Burmese women to-day</i>.</p> +<p>“It wants but two days to the two years,” <i>he +tells her sadly</i>.</p> +<p>“And you are happy?”</p> +<p>“As a god.”</p> +<p><i>She smiles radiantly</i>. <i>She suspects +nothing</i>. <i>She is more beautiful than +before</i>. <i>Her dress is of the richest Mandalay +silks</i>. <i>She wears big nadoungs of rubies in her +ears</i>.</p> +<p><i>Presently</i> <span class="smcap">meng beng</span><b> +</b><i>arranges a set of ivory chessmen on a low table between +them</i>. <i>The sun sinks slowly</i>. <i>The sound +of approaching wheels is heard</i>.</p> +<p><i>Enter</i> (<i>C.</i>) <span class="smcap">u. rai gyan +thoo</span>, <i>preceded by two servants</i>. <span +class="smcap">meng beng</span><b> </b><i>looks </i><!-- page +19--><a name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 19</span><i>up +in surprise</i>—<i>in alarm</i>. <i>He rises</i>, +<i>etc.</i>, <i>and goes forward</i>. <span +class="smcap">u. rai gyan thoo</span><b> </b><i>presents a letter +written on palm leaves</i>. <span class="smcap">meng +beng</span><b> </b><i>does not open it</i>.</p> +<p><i>The curtains at the opening of the tent are</i>, +<i>Oriental fashion</i>, <i>dropped</i>. <i>The music +ceases</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">meng beng</span> <i>and the</i> <span +class="smcap">grand vizier</span> <i>converse apart</i>. +<i>The Minister explains that the Princess of Ceylon’s ship +and its great convoy have already been sighted</i>. <i>The +Court and city wait in eager expectancy</i>. <i>The King +has worshipped long enough at the Pagoda of Golden +Flowers</i>—<i>his subjects and his bride call to +him</i>. <span class="smcap">u. rai gyan thoo</span> <i>has +come to take him to them</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">meng beng</span> <i>is terribly +distressed</i>.</p> +<p>“You can return one day,” <i>the Vizier </i><!-- +page 20--><a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +20</span><i>tells him</i>. “The Pagoda will +remain. I also, once, in years long dead, Lord of the Sea +and Moon, worshipped at a Pagoda.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">meng beng</span> <i>seeks</i> <span +class="smcap">mah phru</span> <i>to explain that he goes on +urgent affairs</i>, <i>that he will come back to her and to his +sons</i>, <i>perhaps before the waning of the new moon</i>. +<i>Their parting is sad with the pensive sadness of look and +gesture peculiar to Eastern people</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">meng beng</span> <i>goes</i> (C.) +<i>with</i> <span class="smcap">u. rai gyan thoo</span>. +<span class="smcap">mah phru</span> <i>mounts to the verandah to +watch them go from behind the curtains</i>. <i>Then</i>, +<i>slowly sinking across the heaped-up cushions</i>, <i>she +faints</i>.</p> +<p><i>The sun has set</i>. <i>The music ceases</i>. +<i>The melancholy cry of the peacocks fills the silence</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">act +drop</span></p> +<h2><!-- page 23--><a name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +23</span>ACT III</h2> +<h3>SCENE I</h3> +<p><i>Seven years have elapsed</i>.</p> +<p><i>The same scene</i>.</p> +<p><i>Curtain discovers</i> <span class="smcap">mah phru</span> +<i>seated on a high verandah</i>. <i>A clearance has been +made in the surrounding trees to give a full view of the road +beyond</i>. <i>She is watching</i>, <i>always +watching</i>. <i>With her are two beautiful little +boys</i>.</p> +<p>“To-day, perhaps,” <i>she murmurs</i>. +“Perhaps to-morrow; but without fail—one +day.”</p> +<p><!-- page 24--><a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +24</span>“Look!” <i>she cries</i>. “At +last my lord returns!”</p> +<p><i>Coming up the jungle road</i>, <i>in view of the +audience</i>, <i>are a bevy of horsemen</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">mah phru</span>, <i>wondering</i>, +<i>descends to greet them</i>. <i>Enter</i> <span +class="smcap">u. rai gyan thoo</span>. <i>He is dressed all +in white</i>, <i>which is Burmese mourning</i>. <span +class="smcap">mah phru</span> <i>sinks back</i>—<i>she +fears the worst</i>. <i>The old man reassures +her</i>. <i>He tells her that</i> <span class="smcap">meng +beng</span> <i>has sent for his sons</i>—<i>that the Queen +is dead</i>, <i>and there is no heir</i>.</p> +<p>“Queen? What Queen?” <i>demands</i> <span +class="smcap">mah phru</span>.</p> +<p>“The Queen of Burmah.”</p> +<p><i>So</i> <span class="smcap">mah phru</span> <i>learns for +the first time that her lover is the ruler of the country</i>, +<!-- page 25--><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +25</span><i>supreme master of and dictator to everyone</i>.</p> +<p><i>Weeping</i>, <i>but not daring to disobey</i>, <i>she +summons the children to her</i>; <i>then</i>, <i>sinking on her +knees</i>, <i>entreats in moving and pathetic words to be +permitted to go with them</i>, <i>in the lowest most menial +capacity</i>. <span class="smcap">u. rai gyan thoo</span> +<i>refuses</i>. <i>There is no place for her in the +greatness of the world yonder</i>. “Even Kings +forget,” <i>he says</i>. “It is the command of +the supreme Lord of the Earth and of the Sky that she remain +where she is.”</p> +<p><i>Then he orders his followers to make the necessary +arrangements for the safe journey of their future king and his +brother</i>.</p> +<p><i>The children stand passive in their gay dress</i>, <i>but +are bewildered and afraid</i>.</p> +<p><!-- page 26--><a name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +26</span><span class="smcap">mah phru</span> <i>has risen to her +feet</i>. <i>She appears as if turned to +bronze</i>—<i>a model of restraint and dignity</i>, +<i>blent with colour and beauty and infinite grace</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">the curtain +descends slowly</span></p> +<h3><!-- page 27--><a name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +27</span>SCENE II</h3> +<p><i>The same night</i>.</p> +<p><i>The home of the Chinese Wizard</i>, <span class="smcap">hip +loong</span>, <i>by the river</i>—<i>a place fitted with +Chinese things</i>: <i>Dragons of gold with eyes of jade gleaming +from out dim corners</i>, <i>Buddhas of gigantic size fashioned +of priceless metals with heads that move</i>, <i>swinging banners +with fringes of many-coloured stones</i>, <i>lanterns with glass +slides on which are painted grotesque figures</i>. <i>The +air is full of the scent of joss sticks</i>. <i>The Wizard +reclines on a divan</i>, <i>inhaling opium slowly</i>, <i>clothed +with the subdued gorgeousness of China</i>—<i>blue and +tomato-red predominate</i>. <i>He has the appearance +</i><!-- page 28--><a name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +28</span><i>of a wrinkled walnut</i>. <i>His forehead is a +lattice-work of wrinkles</i>. <i>His pigtail</i>, +<i>braided with red</i>, <i>is twisted round his head</i>. +<i>His hands are as claws</i>. <i>The effect is weird</i>, +<i>unearthly</i>.</p> +<p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">mah phru</span>.</p> +<p><i>The Wizard silently motions her to some piled-up cushions +at a little distance</i>. <i>He listens to what she tells +him</i>. <i>He appears unmoved</i>, <i>at a recital +apparently full of tragedy</i>. <i>Only the eyes of the +dragons move</i>, <i>and the heads of the Buddhas go slowly like +pendulums</i>. <i>When she has finished speaking</i>, <span +class="smcap">hip loong</span> <i>makes reply</i>.</p> +<p>“This is how passion always ends. I have lived for +a thousand years; and on this planet it is ever the +same.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">mah phru</span> <i>is not +listening</i>.</p> +<p>“How can I go to my children?” <i>she demands</i>, +<i>once again</i>.</p> +<p><!-- page 29--><a name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +29</span>“I can turn you into a bird,” <i>the Wizard +says</i>. “You can fly to the palace and walk and +watch ever on that terrace in the rose gardens above the +sea.”</p> +<p>“What bird?” <i>she asks</i>, +<i>trembling</i>.</p> +<p>“You shall have the form of the white paddy bird, +because, though a woman and foolish as women ever are, you are +very pure ivory. O! daughter of man and of love.”</p> +<p><i>To this</i> <span class="smcap">mah phru</span> +<i>dissents</i>. <i>She paces the long room</i>.</p> +<p>“Transform me into a peacock; they are more +beautiful.”</p> +<p><i>The Wizard</i>, <i>leaning on his elbow</i>, <i>smiles</i>, +<i>and the smile is a revelation of a mocking +comprehension</i>.</p> +<p>“So be it.” <i>He bows his head</i>.</p> +<p><i>The lights fade one by one</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">curtain</span></p> +<h3><!-- page 30--><a name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +30</span>SCENE III</h3> +<p><i>The Gardens of the Palace of the King</i>.</p> +<p><i>Time</i>: <i>late afternoon</i>.</p> +<p><i>Colonnades of roses stretch away on every side</i>. +<i>Fountains play</i>, <i>throwing a shower on water-lilies of +monstrous size</i>. <i>Peacocks walk with stately tread +across the green turf</i>. <i>Only one</i>, <i>larger and +more beautiful than the rest</i>, <i>is perched alone</i>, +<i>with drooping head and folded tail</i>, <i>on the +broad-pillared terrace that overhangs the sea</i>. <i>The +scene is aglow with light and colour</i>, <i>yet holds a shadowed +silence</i>.</p> +<p><!-- page 31--><a name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +31</span><i>Enter some courtiers</i>, <i>who converse in +perturbed fashion as they go towards the Palace</i>.</p> +<p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">moung pho mhin</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">u. rai gyan thoo</span>, +<i>accompanied by the Court Physicians and Astrologers</i>.</p> +<p>“The King cannot live beyond the night,” <i>the +Physicians say</i>. <i>The sudden</i>, <i>mysterious +illness that has attacked him defies their skill</i>.</p> +<p><i>The Astrologers declare that the stars in their courses +fight against his recovery</i>; <i>unless a miracle should +happen</i>, <i>the new day will see him dead</i>.</p> +<p><i>The Ministers regard each other in consternation</i>; +<i>then walk the terrace with bent heads</i>.</p> +<p><i>The peacock on the wall spreads its tail and utters a +melancholy cry of poignant pain</i>.</p> +<p><!-- page 32--><a name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +32</span><i>The listeners start in superstitious horror</i>.</p> +<p><i>The peacock folds its tail and resumes its +meditations</i>.</p> +<p>“That bird is not as other birds,” <i>one +astrologer declares</i>. “I have watched it for years +past—it is ever alone—the others all avoid it. +I think it has a soul.”</p> +<p>“You mistake,” <i>replies his colleague</i>; +“it is but an evil Nat. <a name="citation32"></a><a +href="#footnote32" class="citation">[32]</a> Observe its +eyes: they are not those of a bird; they are those of a spirit in +prison.”</p> +<p><i>They pass on in the wake of the ministers</i>.</p> +<p><i>The peacock closes its eyes</i>.</p> +<p><i>Enter the two young</i> <span class="smcap">princes</span>, +<i>accompanied by two great Pegu hounds</i>. <i>They +converse in subdued tones</i>, <i>strolling slowly</i>. +<!-- page 33--><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +33</span><i>They are followed by pages of honour</i>, <i>carrying +grain</i>, <i>which the young men proceed to distribute amongst +the birds as they rapidly approach them</i>. <i>The peacock +on the wall never stirs</i>; <i>she watches the young men +always</i>. <i>Then the elder one comes with a handful of +food and proffers it</i>, <i>but the peacock does not +eat</i>.</p> +<p>“I shall never understand you, Queen of the Kingdom of +Birds,” <i>he says</i>, <i>and strokes her +feathers</i>. <i>At his touch the plumage scintillates with +a brighter</i>, <i>a more exquisite sheen</i>.</p> +<p><i>He murmurs to the bird in soft tones and mythical +words</i>. <i>He tells it that the fear of everyone is that +the King is mortally stricken</i>, <i>for he lies yonder in most +strange and evil agony</i>; <i>that the hearts of himself and his +brother are numb with the sorrow that knows no </i><!-- page +34--><a name="page34"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +34</span><i>language</i>. <i>The bird listens +eagerly</i>. <i>And if the King should go</i>, <i>he</i>, +<i>the speaker</i>, <i>will reign in his stead</i>. <i>The +prospect fills him with fear</i>. <i>He desires</i>, <i>as +also his brother</i>, <i>if the King must die</i>, <i>to return +to dwell in the forest with the mother who he knows awaits them +there</i>.</p> +<p><i>The peacock spreads its wings as if for flight</i>, <i>then +crouches down once more</i>, <i>and over it watches the young +prince</i>.</p> +<p><i>The sun envelops them both in a sudden shaft of rose and +purple and gold</i>. <i>A servant descends and comes across +the grass</i>. <i>He shikoes profoundly to the two young +men</i>, <i>lifting up his hands in the deepest reverence of +Burmah</i>.</p> +<p>“The Lord of the Earth and the Sky desires his sons; he +nears the Great Unknown.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">curtain</span></p> +<h3><!-- page 35--><a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +35</span>SCENE IV</h3> +<p><i>The retreat of</i> <span class="smcap">hip loong</span>, +<i>the Wizard</i>.</p> +<p><i>Time</i>: <i>the same night</i>.</p> +<p><i>The curtain discovers</i> <span class="smcap">mah +phru</span>, <i>who has returned to human form</i>, <i>and the +Wizard together</i>.</p> +<p><i>He tells her that he has restored her to her former state +only because she has implored him to do so</i>; <i>that her life +is measured by hours as a consequence of such insensate folly in +breaking the vow of five years back</i>.</p> +<p>“But the King will live,” <i>she murmurs</i>.</p> +<p><!-- page 36--><a name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +36</span>“The King will live. He will find happiness +with someone fairer than you. That is well. Your life +for his. It is the price.”</p> +<p>“The price is nothing. Have I not looked on my +heart’s beloved one for five years—looked on his +face—heard his voice—trembled with joy at his +footsteps? Have I not waited and watched? Have I not +gazed on my sons and seen their royal bearing, and known their +touch?”</p> +<p>“You are, then, content?”</p> +<p>“You are a Wizard—you can read that I +am.”</p> +<p>“It is not I that am a Wizard—it is Love. +That is the only Wizard this world knows.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">curtain</span></p> +<h3><!-- page 37--><a name="page37"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +37</span>SCENE V</h3> +<p><i>The bed-chamber of the King</i>—<i>vast and +shadowy</i>. <i>On heaped-up cushions and covers of yellow +and blue</i>, <i>under a pearl-sewn creamy velvet baldaquin</i>, +<i>embroidered with peacocks</i>, <i>lies</i> <span +class="smcap">meng beng</span>, <i>mortally stricken</i>; <i>his +face bears the ashen pallor that only dark skins know</i>. +<i>The ministers</i>, <i>the servants</i>, <i>the courtiers</i>, +<i>the countless motley gathering of an Eastern Court are +scattered in anxious groups</i>, <i>watching</i>, <i>waiting</i>, +<i>murmuring</i>. <i>Only the space near the couch is +clear</i>. <i>Without</i>, <i>the dawn breaks over the +sea</i>, <i>and</i>, <i>stealing </i><!-- page 38--><a +name="page38"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 38</span><i>through +the opening</i>, <i>makes the great chamber flush till it looks +like porphyry</i>.</p> +<p><i>The tolling of a deep gong and the voices of a myriad birds +invade the throbbing silence of the Palace</i>.</p> +<p>“He passes,” <i>murmur the physicians</i>. +<i>Everyone’s gaze turns to the dying man</i>.</p> +<p>“Yet his star is in the ascendant,” <i>say the +astrologers</i>. <i>The risen sun touches him with its +light like a caress</i>. <i>He opens his eyes</i>. +<i>His sons advance</i>. <i>They raise him high on his +cushions and give a restorative</i>. <i>The end has +come</i>. <i>Suddenly he rallies slightly</i>.</p> +<p><i>The doors at the far end are rudely opened</i>. <i>A +woman</i>, <i>young and lovely</i>, <i>advances</i>, <i>thrusting +roughly aside the many hands stretched out to bar her +path</i>.</p> +<p><!-- page 39--><a name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +39</span><i>She reaches the King</i>.</p> +<p>“I bring you life, Star of my Soul,” <i>she +cries</i>, “I bring you life,” <i>and so saying</i>, +<i>falls dead at his feet</i>.</p> +<p><i>The Courtiers rush forward</i>.</p> +<p><i>The King rises</i>.</p> +<p><i>He stands erect</i>.</p> +<p><i>The sun lies like a golden benediction over all</i>.</p> +<p><i>Jewels glitter</i>.</p> +<p><i>The whole world of birds sing</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">the curtain +falls</span></p> +<h2>Footnotes:</h2> +<p><a name="footnote4"></a><a href="#citation4" +class="footnote">[4]</a> One of the greatest feasts of the +Buddhist year.</p> +<p><a name="footnote6"></a><a href="#citation6" +class="footnote">[6]</a> Spire.</p> +<p><a name="footnote32"></a><a href="#citation32" +class="footnote">[32]</a> Fairy.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR LOVE OF THE KING***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 23229-h.htm or 23229-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/3/2/2/23229 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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