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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/37967-8.txt b/37967-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f03424a --- /dev/null +++ b/37967-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11552 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of More Portmanteau Plays, by Stuart Walker + +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: More Portmanteau Plays + +Author: Stuart Walker + +Editor: Edward Hale Bierstadt + +Release Date: November 10, 2011 [EBook #37967] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE PORTMANTEAU PLAYS *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Kentuckiana Digital Library.) + + + + + + + +[Illustration: STUART WALKER WITH THE WORKING MODEL OF HIS PORTMANTEAU +THEATRE] + + + + +MORE PORTMANTEAU PLAYS + +BY + +STUART WALKER + +Author of Portmanteau Plays + +Edited, and with an Introduction by + +EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT + +[Illustration: ILLUSTRATED] + +CINCINNATI +STEWART & KIDD COMPANY +1919 + + +STEWART &. KIDD DRAMATIC SERIES + +The Portmanteau Plays + +By Stuart Walker + +Edited and with an Introduction by + +Edward Hale Bierstadt + +VOL. 1--Portmanteau Plays + + Introduction + The Trimplet + Nevertheless + Six Who Pass While the Lintels Boil + Medicine Show + +VOL. 2--More Portmanteau Plays + + Introduction + The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree + The Very Naked Boy + Jonathan Makes a Wish + +VOL. 3--Portmanteau Adaptations + + Introduction + Gammer Gurton's Needle + The Birthday of the Infanta + "Seventeen" + +_Each of the above three volumes handsomely bound and illustrated. Per +volume net $1.75_ + + +STEWART & KIDD CO., PUBLISHERS + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +STUART WALKER WITH THE WORKING MODEL OF +HIS PORTMANTEAU THEATRE _Frontispiece_ + + FACING PAGE + +THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE, ACT III 34 + +THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE, ACT III 63 + +THE VERY NAKED BOY 80 + +JONATHAN MAKES A WISH, ACT I I 130 + +JONATHAN MAKES A WISH, ACT II II 149 + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +During the period which has elapsed between the publication of _Portmanteau +Plays_, and that of the present volume our country entered upon the +greatest war in history, and emerged victorious. It is far too early to +estimate what effect that war has had or may have upon all art in general, +and upon the dramatic and theatric arts in particular, but there is every +indication that the curtain is about to rise on the great romantic revival +which we have watched and waited for, and of which Stuart Walker has been +one of the major prophets. + +During the actual period of the war many of the creative and interpretative +artists of the theater were engaged either directly in army work or in one +of its auxiliary branches. It is amusing to recall that the present writer +met Schuyler Ladd serving as Mess Sergeant for a Base Hospital in France, +Alexander Wollcott, late dramatic critic of the New York _Times_, attached +to the _Stars and Stripes_ in Paris, and Douglas Stuart, the London +producer, in an English hospital at Etretat, the while he himself was +serving as an enlisted man on the staff of the same hospital. These are +minor instances, but when they have been multiplied several hundred times +one begins to see how closely the actor, the critic, and the producer were +involved in the struggle. Again the problem of providing proper +entertainment for the troops was, and still is, a serious one. In the great +number of cases it seems highly probable that the entertainment along such +lines done by the men themselves was far more effective than that provided +by outside organizations. More than once, however, it appeared to the +writer that here was a field especially suited to the _Portmanteau Theater_ +and to its repertory. The question of transportation, always a crucial +point with such a venture, was no more difficult than that presented by +many companies already in the field, and doing immensely inferior work. My +return to America put me in possession of the facts of the matter, and +without desiring in any way to cast blame, much less to indict, or to +emphasize unduly a relatively unimportant point, it seems only fitting that +there should be included in this record the reasons for what has seemed to +many of us a lost opportunity. They are at least much more brief than the +apologia which precedes them. + +The _Portmanteau Theater_, its repertory of forty-eight plays, and its +trained company, was offered for war purposes under the following +conditions: no royalty was to be paid for any of the plays, no salary was +to be paid Mr. Walker; the company was to go wherever sent, whether in or +out of shell fire, in France or in England; the only stipulation being that +the members of the company should be remunerated at the same rate paid an +enlisted man in the United States army, and that the principal members +should receive the pay of subalterns. On the whole an arrangement so +generous that it is almost absurd. To this offer the Y. M. C. A. turned a +deaf ear. Their attention was concentrated on vaudeville at the moment, +and with one hand they covered their eyes while with the other they +clutched their purse strings. The War Camp Community Service could see no +way in which the Theater could function for the men either at home or +abroad. The _Portmanteau_ was, in a word, too "high-brow" a venture for +them. The reader is referred to the Appendix of this volume showing the +repertory in use at that time. Another official contented himself with the +statement that the problem of transportation involved rendered the project +impracticable. The matter is too lengthy to discuss here, but the writer, +who was able to observe the situation at first hand, knows this to be an +error. The navy then asked for plans and estimates so that a number of +_Portmanteau Theaters_ might be constructed aboard the ships. Mr. Walker +offered to put all his patents at the complete disposal of the Navy +Department, and himself was ready to draw plans and make suggestions. The +navy approved the idea, and with sublime assurance requested Mr. Walker to +proceed with the work of construction--at his own expense. It was +impossible; the money could not be afforded, and the venture was abandoned. +It is therefore very evident that there was an opportunity, and that that +opportunity was lost; but it was not the _Portmanteau_ which lost it. At +any rate we are left free to take up the history of Mr. Walker's theater +and his plays at the point where we left off in the first book of the +series. + +The close of the highly successful season at the _Princess Theater_ in New +York, the winter of 1915-1916, was followed by twelve weeks on the road, +three of which were spent in Chicago, and then by thirteen weeks in +Indianapolis. It was in this last city that the production of the +adaptation of Booth Tarkington's book, "Seventeen," changed all plans by +its instant popularity. On the way East, a stop was made in Chicago, and +before that city had time to do much more than voice its enthusiasm, the +company left for New York. During the fall of 1917 _Seventeen_ was played +regularly, with the addition of some special performances of the repertory. +_Seventeen_ was played in New York for two hundred and fifty-eight +performances (Chicago had already had one hundred), and the special +performances of _The Book of Job_ were renewed in the spring. It was during +the next fall, that of 1918, that a second _Seventeen_ company was sent out +on the road. That company is still out, the total playing time for the work +since its production being (April, 1919) just one hundred and four weeks. +The next summer, 1918, included a repertory season of thirteen weeks, again +at Indianapolis, and four in Cincinnati, while the following winter, just +past, chimed ten weeks of repertory at the _Punch and Judy Theater_ in New +York. To sum up in brief then--Mr. Walker has, beginning in the spring of +1916 and ending in the spring of 1919, played seventy-six weeks of +repertory, in which he has produced forty-eight plays. This does not +include the _Seventeen_ run which, as I have said, totals one hundred and +four weeks to date. It is safe to claim that this represents as successful +repertory work as has been done in the United States so far. We shall, +however, return to that presently. + +In the fall of 1917, so important to the Portmanteau company, a change of +management was instituted, by which the following staff came into control: +Stage Director--Gregory Kelly: Stage Manager--Morgan Farley: Musical +Director--Michel Bernstein: Manager--Harold Holstein: Press +Representative--Alta May Coleman: Treasurer--Walter Herzbrun. The changes +were excellent, and were thoroughly justified in their results. An +arrangement was made with the Shuberts, whereby booking was greatly +facilitated, and with its structure thus reinforced, the Theater was in an +excellent position to "carry on." + +It may be remembered by those who read the first book of the _Portmanteau +Series_ that in my introduction I placed the greater portion of my emphasis +on the theatrical side; that is, the _Portmanteau_ as a portable theater +rather than as a repertory company. It is my intention here to reverse the +process, and this for two reasons. First: Mr. Walker has in the last two +years by no means confined himself to the _Portmanteau_ stage. The recent +run at the _Punch and Judy Theater_ in New York was upon a full size stage, +and this was not at all an exception. The _Portmanteau_ was, and is, an +idea, but that idea has no very definite connection with repertory as such. +There is no longer the need, in this particular instance, that there once +was, for the invariable use of the _Portmanteau_, except as convenience +requires. At the very beginning, when the company often played for private +persons, the portable stage was indispensable. But so thoroughly did the +_Portmanteau_ idea justify itself that from being a crutch it grew into a +handy staff, always valuable, but no longer essential. All that has been +said of it, and of its possibilities, is quite as true today as ever it +was, but now having proved his original thesis, if so it may be called, Mr. +Walker may well be content to work out the future gradually and in his own +way. Second: the repertory idea is certainly of infinitely more importance +than any theatrical device or contrivance, however interesting and valuable +such a departure may be in itself. As to any difference in the acting +necessitated by the change from a small to a large stage that amounts to +little. It is entirely a difference in quality, an ability to temper the +interpretation to the surroundings, and as such would apply as readily to +the staging and setting of a play as to the acting itself. On a large stage +one might take three steps to convey an impression where on a small stage +one step would produce the same effect. An arch or pylon would obviously +have to be of greater proportions on a large stage than on a small one. Yet +in both these instances the ultimate effect is precisely the same. Let us +turn then to a consideration of the Portmanteau, not as a theater, but as a +repertory company. + +There is certainly no space here, and just as certainly no necessity, for +dwelling long upon the prime importance of repertory. Several excellent +books have been written on that absorbing subject, and we may surely take +for granted that which we know beyond all doubt to be the truth, namely, +that repertory as opposed to the "long run" and to the "star" system is the +ultimate solution of a most vexatious and perplexing problem--how to change +the modern theater from an industry to an art. The disadvantages of the +present mode of procedure are too evident to call for recapitulation; +witness the results obtained. On the other hand there can be no question +that there is a practicable and simple panacea in repertory; see what has +been done by the Abbey company in Dublin, by Miss Horniman's players in +Manchester, by the _Scottish Repertory Theater_, on a smaller scale, in +Glasgow, by John Drinkwater's repertory theater in Birmingham, concerning +which I have, unfortunately, no exact data, but which I understand is doing +remarkable work with distinct success, and by the Portmanteau company in +the United States. It would be well also to include Charles Frohman's +season at the _Duke of York's Repertory Theater_ in London; in fact the +inclusion of this seventeen weeks' season would be inevitable. Where the +experiment has failed it has failed for reasons which did not, in any way, +shape or manner, invalidate the principle at stake. Thus, to cite the great +example on our own side of the water, the _New Theater_ was doomed to +failure from the very start in the fact that it was born crippled. It may +be restated to advantage, just here, that from the spring of 1916 to the +spring of 1919, a period of three years, Mr. Walker has produced +forty-eight plays, has given seventy-six weeks of repertory, and has had a +nearly unbroken run of one hundred and four weeks with one play which has +been commercially successful beyond the others. Of the forty-eight plays +produced during this time eighteen had never been seen before on any stage; +four were entirely new to America (except for a possible itinerant amateur +performance); and twenty-six were revivals, modern, semi-modern, and +classical. It is my belief that this record will take a creditable position +in the history of American repertory. Abroad, however, its place is less +secure, but even here the _Portmanteau_ is by no means snowed under. + +In the other great English speaking country there are four outstanding +examples of repertory work, as has already been stated. On the Continent +the situation is entirely different; there is no "problem" there, for the +repertory theater has long been an established fact. France, in the +_Comedié-Française_, and Germany, in several of her theaters before the +war, merely provide us with a criterion. In Great Britain, however, and in +America, we are in the process of building and adjusting, so that the +examples of one will reasonably affect the other. At the risk of being +misunderstood we shall pause long enough to call attention to the _Irving +Place Theatre_,[1] of New York, a German house supporting German plays, and +attended very largely by a German clientele, but notwithstanding all this a +repertory theater of standing, and of some distinction, from which we might +learn several useful lessons. However, it is with the Anglo-American stage +that we have to do at the moment. + +Doubtless, first in importance comes the Abbey Theater Company of Dublin. +From December, 1905, to December, 1912, there were produced at the _Abbey +Theater_ (I am unfortunately unable to include the several important tours +made) seventy-four plays, of which seven were translations. Of the rest but +few were revivals, as the history of the Irish literary movement will show. +They were plays written especially for the theater, for particular +audiences, and to achieve definite purpose as propaganda. Moreover, when +the _Abbey_ was tottering on the brink of failure, Miss Horniman came to +the rescue with a substantial subsidy which enabled the theater not only to +proceed, but finally to establish itself on a sound running basis. Mr. +Walker's company has had to fight its own way from the very start. + +In Manchester, Miss Horniman's own repertory company at the _Midland +Theater_ and finally at the _Gaiety_ has been distinctly and brilliantly +successful. In a period of a little more than two years there were produced +fifty-five plays; twenty-eight new, seventeen revivals of modern English +plays, five modern translations, and five classics. This is a repertory as +well balanced as it is wide. In 1910, however, there was inaugurated the +practise of producing each play for a run of one week, so that from that +time on the theater was open to the criticism of being not a repertory in +the fullest sense of the term, but a short run theater. But for that +matter, I do not think that there is a repertory theater either in England +or in America which fulfills the ideal conditions set down by William +Archer who had in mind, as he wrote, the repertory theater of the +Continent. + +"When we speak of a repertory, we mean a number of plays always ready for +performance, with nothing more than a 'run through' rehearsal, which, +therefore, can be, and are, acted in such alternation that three, four or +five different plays may be given in the course of a week. New plays are +from time to time added to the repertory, and those of them which succeed +may be performed fifty, seventy, a hundred times, or even more, in the +course of one season; but no play is ever performed more than two or three +times in uninterrupted succession."[2] + +This applies exactly to the _Comedié-Française_, which, in the year 1909, +presented one hundred and fifteen plays, eighteen of which were performed +for the first time, the remainder being a part of the regular body of the +repertory of that theater. In the first decade of the present century there +were no less than two hundred and eighty-two plays added to the repertory +of the _Comedié_. It may be of service to remember, however, that the +_Comedié-Française_ was established by royal decree in 1680. If the _Globe +Theater_ of Shakespeare's day had lived and prospered up to the present we +might have an example to match that of France. + +It is probable that if one were to use the phrase "repertory in America" +the wise ones of the theater would raise their eye-brows stiffly and +remark, "There is none." That would be nearly true, but not altogether so. +It is my desire here to sketch in brief the early beginnings of what has +been termed the "independent theater" movement,[3] from which repertory in +this country unquestionably grew, up to the time of the establishment of +the "little theaters" which now dot the country, and into which movement +that of the "independent theater" eventually merged. + +In 1887 there was inaugurated by A. M. Palmer at the _Madison Square +Theater_, of which he was manager at that time, a series of "author's +matinées" which appear to have been in some sense try-outs for a possible +repertory season. Only three plays were produced, however, before Mr. +Palmer decided against the scheme as impracticable. It is interesting to +note that these three plays were all by American authors--Howells, +Matthews, and Lathrop. The attempt was actually not repertory in the +strict sense, but it undoubtedly marks a tendency, slight, but evident, to +incline in the right direction. + +Some four years later, in the fall of 1891, a Mr. McDowell, son of General +McDowell of Civil War fame, started the _Theater of Arts and Letters_ with +the idea of bringing literature and the drama into closer relationship. +Five plays were produced, and among the names of the authors (again they +were all natives) one finds several which have since become famous. +Commercially, the venture was a total failure, and the authors did not even +collect their full royalties. A short tour was made with several of the +more successful plays, one by Clyde Fitch (a one-act which was afterwards +expanded into _The Moth and the Flame_), one by Richard Harding Davis, and +one by Brander Matthews. All three of these were one-act. American authors +were willing enough to write plays, but they apparently could not succeed, +except in isolated instances, in writing good ones. There was evidently an +utter dearth of suitable material. Nevertheless, when foreign plays were +put on no better fortune ensued, unless they represented the old school of +pseudo melodrama, and farce adapted from the French and German, such as +Augustin Daly delighted in. Daly too had discovered that to encourage the +American playwright was to court disaster. + +In 1897 _The Criterion_, a New York review of rather eccentric merit, +endeavored to establish the _Criterion Independent Theater_ modeled on the +_Théâtre-Libre_ of Antoine. A company was recruited, headed by E. J. +Henley, and performances were given at first the _Madison Square Theater_, +and then the _Berkeley Lyceum_. It was frankly intended that the appeal +should be to a small, select audience, and, in spite of the jeers of the +press, five plays were produced--one Norwegian, one Italian, one French, +one Spanish, and one American. A glance through the list shows us that the +American play, by Augustus Thomas, is the only one which has not since +entered into the permanent literature of the stage. Internal differences, +and imperfect rehearsals combined to overthrow the venture which, after one +season, was abandoned. The success of the last production, however, _El +Gran Galeoto_, inspired Mr. John Blair to produce Ibsen's _Ghosts_ with +Miss Mary Shaw at the _Carnegie Lyceum_ in 1899. From this sprang _The +Independent Theater_, generously backed financially by Mr. George Peabody +Eustis of Washington. + +The list of the patrons of this theater reads like a chapter from "Who's +Who." Many of the men associated with the plan gave their services free or +at a nominal cost. The three persons more directly responsible for the +artistic side of the work were Charles Henry Meltzer, John Blair, and +Vaughan Kester, while among the patrons were W. D. Howells, Bronson Howard, +E. C. Stedman, E. H. Sothern, Charles and Daniel Frohman, and Sir Henry +Irving. Six plays were given, this time none of them of American origin. +The press and critics were most bitter in their denunciation of these +foreign importations, as they had been on the previous occasion. There was, +however, on the part of the audiences a definite tendency to let drop the +scales from their eyes, and to awake to the new forces in the drama and the +theater as represented by Ibsen, Hervieu, the _Théâtre-Libre_, and the +_Independent Theater_. But in spite of all this, one season's work saw the +conclusion of the project. A part of the repertory was given in other +cities, notably Boston and Washington, but, though a very real interest was +aroused, it was not sufficient to permit the company to continue. About two +thousand dollars represented the deficit at the end of the season; by no +means a discreditable balance, albeit on the wrong side of the ledger, when +one considers the circumstances. The actual results of the work are summed +up in a privately printed pamphlet written by Mr. Meltzer than whom no one +was more closely in touch with the whole independent movement. + +"What have the American 'Independents' achieved by their efforts? + +"They have succeeded, thanks to Mr. George Peabody Eustis, the general +manager of the scheme, in giving twenty-two performances of plays +recognized everywhere abroad as characteristic, interesting, and literary. + +"They have extended the 'Independent' movement from New York to Boston and +Washington. + +"They have encouraged at least one 'regular' manager to announce the +production next season of an Ibsen play. + +"They have revived discussion of the general tendencies of modern drama. + +"They have interested, and occasionally charmed, an intelligent minority of +playgoers, who have grown weary of the rank insipidity, vulgarity, and +improbability of current drama. + +"They have bored, angered, and distressed a less intelligent majority of +playgoers and critics. + +"They have discovered at least one new actress of unusual worth. + +"They have prepared the way, at a by no means inconsiderable cost of time, +thought, and money, for future, and perhaps, more prosperous movements +aiming at the reform of the American stage." + +Coming at the time it did, sponsored by the best minds in America, and +worked to its conclusion by whole hearted enthusiasts, _The Independent +Theater_ did, beyond all doubt, have a very vitalizing effect on both the +stage and the drama of this country. The next step, perhaps the climactic +one of the series, was longer in coming (1909). + +The _New Theater_ has been our greatest attempt and our greatest failure. +The details of these two seasons have been placed before the public so many +times that there is no necessity for doing more here than suggesting a +broad outline. If the enterprise had, from its very inception, been in the +hands of capable men who knew their work, instead of being handicapped by +wealthy amateurs the history of a failure might never have been written. In +its first season _The New Theater_ presented thirteen plays at intervals of +a fortnight. Of these, four were classics, three were original works by +native authors, and two by contemporary British dramatists. During the +second season, at the end of which the idea was given up and the _New +Theater_ abandoned, eleven plays were produced; six of these were of +British origin, semi-modern; one was a classic; three were Belgian, and one +was American. I have counted in this season, two plays produced the season +before, the only revivals. Altogether then, twenty-two plays were given, +only five of which can be considered as home products. Mr. Ames, the +Director, was balked at every turn by the combined forces of Fifth Avenue +and Wall Street, while the outrageous and impossible construction of the +theater itself proved an insurmountable handicap. In addition it was now +found almost impossible to induce the American dramatist to turn from the +great profits of the long run Broadway theaters to the acceptance of one +hundred and fifty dollars a performance at the _New Theater_. There was +something to be said on both sides. The _New Theater_ was a splendid and +costly attempt, and it taught us several invaluable lessons, chief among +them the occasional unimportance of money. + +Probably next in order comes the short repertory of Miss Grace George at +the _Playhouse_ in 1915 and 1917. This lasted for about one season and a +half, and, while there was promise of continuation, the project was finally +abandoned. It is only fair to say that Miss George worked under the +peculiar disadvantage of entire lack of sympathy, and indeed, open +antagonism as well, on the part of several of her most important confréres. +The real trouble seemed to be one of those that affected the _New Theater_, +that is, Miss George was totally unable to secure American plays for her +purposes. In the period of her project she produced seven plays; five the +first year, and two the next. Of these, five were modern British plays, one +was a translation from the French, and one was semi-modern American. Again +it will be observed that American plays were simply not forthcoming, a +condition widely different from that obtaining during the nineties when the +_Theater of Arts and Letters_, and the _Criterion Independent_ held their +short sway. Miss George's effort was distinctly worth while, but in the end +there was added only another gravestone to the cemetery of buried hopes.[4] + +With the advent of the "little theater" movement, from about 1905, there +are many small companies and theaters which can, in a broad sense, fairly +be termed repertory. To discuss any number of them would require a book in +itself, and the reader is referred to "_The Insurgent Theater_" by +Professor Dickenson as the work most nearly fulfilling this need. Probably +the _Washington Square Players_ of New York are typical, more or less, of +them all, and their repertory for two years is given in the Appendix. Aside +from the natural conditions resulting from the war, one reason of their +failure seems to have been their pernicious desire to be "different" at any +cost. In spite of their excellent work they ultimately found that cost to +be prohibitive, but the discovery was made too late.[5] The majority of the +little theaters are, however, too entirely provincial in their appeal to +warrant an assumption of any great influence, in spite of their vital and +unquestionable importance.[6] + +It will be observed that in speaking of Stuart Walker's work I have used +the phrase repertory _company_, not, repertory _theater_. That is, of +course, part of the secret. A theater anchored to one spot is obviously at +a disadvantage. It cannot seek its audience, but must sit with what +patience and capital it has at its disposal, and wait for the audience to +come to it. With a touring company the odds are more even. An unsuccessful +month in one city may be made up by a successful one in another. The type +of play that captivates the west may not go at all in the east, and the +other way about. There are plays now on the road, and which have been there +literally for years, doing excellent business, which have never ventured to +storm the very rocky coast bounding New York. And there are plays which +have had crowded houses in the metropolis which have slumped, and +deservedly so, most dismally when they were taken out where audiences were +possessed of a clearer vision. Hence it is easy to see that Mr. Walker, +playing in both the east and the west, in small cities and in large ones, +can do what the _New Theater_ and the _Playhouse_ could not do. True, they +could send their companies out on tour, but the _New Theater_ with its huge +stage and panoramic scenery could find but few theaters which could house +it, and the whole idea of both that and Miss George's company was a fixed +repertory theater. Indeed in both of them the faults of the "star" system +were never wholly absent. + +The facts that I have been able to give here seem to point to but one +conclusion. That is, that Stuart Walker's repertory company stands +numerically on a par with anything else of the kind ever attempted in the +United States, and that it is not unworthy of comparison with the best +repertory work in England. It must be borne in mind that, in some measure, +all this has been done on a fairly small scale. There has not been the +money at hand to do it otherwise, nor has there been the necessity. The +company may be compared better with the _Gaiety_ of Manchester than with +the _Duke of York's Theater_. And too, as with the _Gaiety_, many of the +players have been relatively unknown before their advent on the +_Portmanteau_ stage. It is the definite mission, or some part of it at any +rate, of the repertory company to encourage new dramatists, new players, +and new stage effects when such encouragement is advisable. To be merely +different is by no means to be worth while. + +The three plays included in this volume have all been presented +successfully both in the east and in the west. The two long plays--_The +Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree_ and _Jonathan Makes a Wish_--both have the +distinction of being popular with audiences and unpopular with critics, a +condition of affairs not as unique as it might seem. As for the third, _The +Very Naked Boy_, it is a thoroughly delightful trifle, unimportant as +drama, yet very perfect in itself, and has been liked by nearly everyone. +Combining, as it does, comedy and sentiment, it possesses all the elements +that go to make for success with the average audience. + +_The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree_ is founded on an old Japanese legend, +how old no one knows. Mr. Walker became interested in Japanese folk-lore +through a collection of ballads; it is amusing to observe how his fondness +for ballads has followed him through all his work, and this play was the +result. From the first it went well. Apparently no one could resist the +pathos of the intensely human story which culminated in so tragic a form. +One might think that the appeal in a play of this type, written by an +author so well known as an artist in stagecraft, would be largely visual. +While that appeal is unquestionably there in abundance, the real essence of +the tale is the vitally human quality of its characters. One is indeed +inclined to believe that we take our pleasures sadly, when he has seen an +audience quite dissolved in tears at a performance of this play, and all +the while enjoying themselves unutterably. It is a drama of imagination and +of emotion. The cold, hard, and more often than not deceiving light of the +intellect plays but a small part. It is the human heart with its passions, +its fears, its regrets, and its aspirations that concerns us here; not the +human mind with its essentially microcosmic point of view, and its petty, +festering egoism. The play is beautiful because it is true, and equally it +is true because it is beautiful. It seems to me quite the best and +soundest piece of work Mr. Walker has done so far, though he himself +prefers his later play, _Jonathan Makes a Wish_. + +This last play is more realistic--stupid term!--than anything of a serious +nature that the author has so far attempted. It is, however, the realism of +Barrie rather than that of Brieux, and this at any rate is consoling. The +first act is extraordinary, splendid in thought, in technique, and in +execution. Therein lies the trouble, if trouble there be. Neither of the +two acts following can reach the level of the first, and with the opening +of the second act the play gradually, though hardly perceptibly, declines, +not in interest, but in strength. The transposition of the character of the +Tramp from an easy going good nature in the first act to that of a Dickens +villain in the second may require explanation. The last sensation the boy +has is that of the blow on his head, and his last visualization is that of +the Tramp's face bending over him. Thus, in his delirium, the two would +inevitably be associated. The story of the delirium, the second act, is +peculiarly well done. One feels the slight haziness of outline, the great +consequence of actually inconsequential events, the morbid terror lurking +always in the near background, which are a very part and parcel of that +strange psychological condition which is here made to play a spiritual +part. The last act suffers for want of material. In reality, all that is +necessary is to wind up the play speedily and happily. It seems probable +that the introduction of the deliciously charming Frenchwoman, played so +delightfully by Margaret Mower, would give the needed color and substance +to this portion. As it is, one feels a little something lacking--but only a +little. That the play is, as one pseudo-critic remarked, an argument in +favor of infant playwrights, is too absurd to discuss. If it argues at all, +it is that the relationship between the child world and the adult must be +democratic, not tyrannic, and that flowers grow, like weeds, only when they +are encouraged, not trod upon. The play is interesting, true, and +imaginative to a degree; if it is not wholly satisfactory, it but partakes +of the faults of virtue. Audiences, young, old, metropolitan and urban, +have responded to the work in a manner which left no doubt of their +approval. In New York it was slow in taking hold, and unfortunately the +company was obliged to leave to fill other engagements just at the time +when a more definite success was at hand. In the west the spirit of the +thing caught at once; there was no hesitation there. + +From the beginning there has been a very definite plan in Mr. Walker's mind +as to what his objective point was to be, and especially in view of what I +have said of his company in connection with repertory it may be interesting +to suggest the outline of that plan here. This is no less than to establish +in some city a permanent repertory theater and company, and to use the +_Portmanteau Theater_ and company for touring purposes. It is an amusing +thought; the little theater would shoot out from under the wing of its +parent as a raiding party detaches itself from its company, but the +consequences would be, one hopes, less destructive on both sides. The +thought, however, is really much more than amusing; it is of very real +consequence and importance. It will readily be seen that in this we have a +combination of the advantages of both the stationary and the touring +repertory company, and hence, double the chances of success. And Mr. Walker +would by no means be restricted to one _Portmanteau Theater_. If conditions +warranted it he could as easily construct and send out a dozen on the road, +taking his work into every nook and corner of the theater-loving country. +In fact the ramifications of the idea are so vast that it is useless to +endeavor to do more than suggest them here. The reader will see for himself +what great possibilities are involved, and what an effect this might have +on all repertory work in America. + +During the last two years the work of Mr. Walker's company has improved in +every way. The addition of new members, such as Margaret Mower, and +particularly George Gaul, whose performance In _The Book of Job_ was, in my +opinion, one of the finest ever seen on the American stage, has naturally +served to strengthen the fabric greatly. The older members of the company, +Gregory Kelly, McKay Morris, Edgar Stehli and many others, have all +improved in their work, increasing in assurance and finish. The success +that has attended the fortunes of the theater has made possible finer stage +effects (the Dunsany productions have been immensely improved) and the +repertory has been greatly enriched by some really fine plays, and has been +enhanced by others of a more popular character. One thing must be said, +however, in all fairness. It has seemed to the writer that of late there +has been an increasing tendency on the part of Mr. Walker's scenic artists +and costume designers to fall away from the plain surfaces and unbroken +lines of the new stagecraft, and to achieve an effect which one can only +characterize as "spotty." This can best be appreciated by those who know +the two American productions of Dunsany's one-act play, _The Tents of the +Arabs_. I am rather regretfully of the opinion that, aside from the actual +playing and reading of the parts, Sam Hume's production was superior to +that of Mr. Walker. An opulence of variegated colors does not always +suggest as much as flat masses. The set used by Mrs. Hapgood in her +production of Torrence's _Simon the Cyrenian_ illustrates excellently the +desired result. It is, however, Stuart Walker's privilege to adapt the new +ideas, and to make such use of the old, as seems best to him. One is +sometimes inclined to miss, nevertheless, the simplicity of his earlier +work, especially when it is compared with the splendor, not always well +used or well advised, of his later productions. His company has always read +beautifully, and its reading is now better than ever. The only adverse +criticism, if adverse criticism there be at all, lies against the Stage +Director himself. I am especially glad to be able to say this, for the +producer whose work is too good, too smooth, is surely stumbling to a fall. +The very fact that there is definite room for improvement in the +_Portmanteau_ presentations, leads one to feel, knowing the record of the +company, that these improvements will be made. + +To return for a moment to an earlier phase of our discussion, it may be +both interesting and profitable to note the fact that while the _Abbey_, +the _Manchester_, and the _New Theaters_ were all aided by material +subsidies, the _Portmanteau_ has stood on its own legs, albeit they wabbled +a trifle on occasion, from the very start. A little, but only a little, +money has been borrowed, and there has been just one gift, that of $5000. +This last was accepted for the reason that it would enable the Theater to +mount sets and costume plays in a rather better fashion than heretofore. +While it was not absolutely essential to the continued existence of the +_Portmanteau_ it made presently possible productions which otherwise would +have been postponed indefinitely; in British army slang it would be called +"bukshee," meaning extra, like the thirteenth cake in the dozen. The record +of the _Portmanteau_ is its own, and that of its many friends who have been +generous in contributing that rarest of all gifts, sympathetic +understanding. + +Before withdrawing my intrusive finger from the _Portmanteau_ pie I should +like to pay a small tribute to Stuart Walker himself. I do not think I have +ever known a man who gave more unsparingly of himself in all his work. That +dragon of the theater, the expense account, has often necessitated someone +shouldering the work of half a dozen who were not there. Always it is Mr. +Walker who has taken the task upon his back, cheerfully and willingly, and +despite physical ills, under which a less determined man would have +succumbed. His never wavering belief in his work and his ability to do that +work have brought him through many a pitfall. It is not a petty vanity, +but the strong conceit of the artist; that which most of us call by the +vague term ideals. The spirit of the _Portmanteau_ is to be found alike in +its offices and on its stage; a spirit of unselfish belief that somehow, +somewhere, we all shall "live happily ever after" if only we do the work we +are set to do faithfully here and now. The theater, the organization which +has that behind it, in conjunction with a keenly intelligent co-operation +or team-play, will take a great deal of punishment before it goes down. +Mistakes have been made, of course; otherwise neither producer nor company +were human; but it is in the acknowledgment and rectification of errors +that men become great. + +The repertory theater, the new drama, and stage craft, have an able ally in +the _Portmanteau_. We may look far afield for that elixir which will +transmute the base metal of the commercial theater to the bright gold of +art, but unless we remember that the pot of treasure is to be found at this +end of the rainbow, and not the other, our search will be in vain. + +EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT. + +New York City, +April, 1919. + + * * * * * + +ACKNOWLEDGMENTS + +I wish to acknowledge with gratitude the assistance given me by Mr. Brander +Matthews, Mr. Montrose Moses, and by Mr. Charles Henry Meltzer in obtaining +data, verifying dates and names, and by their kindly advice. + +E. H. B. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Since America's entrance in the War given over to the "movies." + +[2] Mr. John Palmer, in his book, "The Future of the Theater," gives the +following as the programme for the then, 1913, projected National Theater. +The war intervened, however, and the venture has been lost sight of for the +moment. This statement is even more reasonable than that of Mr. Archer, for +this is intended for practical use in England while his was merely taken +from France. + +"... it seems desirable to state that a repertory theater should be held to +mean a theater able to present at least two different plays of full length +at evening performances in each completed week during the annual season, +and at least three different plays at evening performances and matinées +taken together ... and the number of plays presented in a year should not +be less than twenty-five. A play of full length means a play occupying at +least two-thirds of the whole time of any performance. But two two-act +plays, or three one-act plays, composing a single programme, should, for +the purposes of this statute, be reckoned as equivalent to a play of full +length." + +As Mr. Palmer remarks "this statute is both elastic and watertight." + +E. H. B. + +[3] See Appendix for complete repertories. + +[4] Announcement has just been made that Miss George will continue her +repertory during the season of 1919-1920. + +[5] They only failed for $3000, however: the rent of a Broadway theater for +a week. + +[6] This statement hardly applies to _The Neighborhood Theater_, or to that +successor to _The Washington Square Players_, _The Theater Guild_, the work +of which at the _Garrick Theater_, New York, during the first part of 1919 +has been excellent in the very highest degree. + + + + +THE PROLOGUE TO THE PORTMANTEAU THEATER + + + + +THE PROLOGUE + + +_As the lights in the theater are lowered the voice of MEMORY is heard as +she passes through the audience to the stage_. + + +MEMORY + +Once upon a time, but not so very long ago, you very grownups believed in +all true things. You believed until you met the Fourteen Doubters who were +so positive in their unbelief that you weakly cast aside the things that +made you happy for the hapless things that they were calling life. You were +afraid or ashamed to persist in your old thoughts, and strong in your folly +you discouraged your little boy, and other people's little boys from the +pastimes they had loved. Yet all through the early days you had been surely +building magnificent cities, and all about you laying out magnificent +gardens, and, with an April pool you had made infinite seas where pirates +fought or mermaids played in coral caves. Then came the Doubters, laughing +and jeering at you, and you let your cities, and gardens, and seas go +floating in the air--unseen, unsung--wonderful cities, and gardens, and +seas, peopled with the realest of people.... So now you, and he, and I are +met at the portals. Pass through them with me. I have something there that +you think is lost. The key is the tiny regret for the real things, the +little regret that sometimes seems to weight your spirit at twilight, and +compress all life into a moment's longing. Come, pass through. You cannot +lose your way. Here are your cities, your gardens, and your April pools. +Come through the portals of once upon a time, but not so very long +ago--today--now! + +_She passes through the soft blue curtains, but unless you are willing to +follow her, turn back now. There are only play-things here._ + + + + +THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE + +A PLAY IN THREE ACTS + + +CHARACTERS + + O-SODE-SAN, an old woman + O-KATSU-SAN + OBAA-SAN + THE GAKI OF KOKORU, an eater of unrest + RIKI, a poet + AOYAGI + + + + +WEEPING WILLOW TREE + + + + +ACT I + + +[_Before the House of Obaa-San. At the right back is a weeping willow tree, +at the left the simple little house of Obaa-San._ + +[_O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San enter._ + +O-SODE-SAN + +Oi!... Oi!... Obaa-San! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Obaa-San!... Grandmother! + +O-SODE-SAN + +She is not there. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Poor Obaa-San. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Why do you always pity Obaa-San? Are her clothes not whole? Has she not her +full store of rice? + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Ay! + +O-SODE-SAN + +Then what more can one want--a full hand, a full belly, and a warm body! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +A full heart, perhaps. + +O-SODE-SAN + +What does Obaa-San know of a heart, silly O-Katsu? She has had no husband +to die and leave her alone. She has had no child to die and leave her arms +empty. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Hai! Hai! She does not know. + +O-SODE-SAN + +She has had no lover to smile upon her and then--pass on. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +But Obaa-San is not happy. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Pss-s! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +She may be lonely because she has never had any one to love or to love her. + +O-SODE-SAN + +How could one love Obaa-San? She is too hideous for love. She would +frighten the children away--and even a drunken lover would laugh in her +ugly face. Obaa-San! The grandmother! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +O-Sode, might we not be too cruel to her? + +O-SODE-SAN + +If we could not laugh at Obaa-San, how then could we laugh? She has been +sent from the dome of the sky for our mirth. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +I do not know! I do not know! Sometimes I think I hear tears in her laugh! + +O-SODE-SAN + +Pss-s! That is no laugh. Obaa-San cackles like an old hen. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +I think she is unhappy now and then--always, perhaps. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Has she not her weeping willow tree--the grandmother? + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Ay. She loves the tree. + +O-SODE-SAN + +The grandmother of the weeping willow tree! It's well for the misshapen, +and the childless, and the loveless to have a tree to love. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +But, O-Sode, the weeping willow tree can not love her. Perhaps even old +Obaa-San longs for love. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Do we not come daily to her to talk to her? And to ask her all about her +weeping willow tree? + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Oi! Obaa-San. + +[_A sigh is heard._ + +O-SODE-SAN + +What was that, O-Katsu? + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Someone sighed--a deep, hard sigh. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Oi! Obaa-San! Grandmother! + +[_The sigh is almost a moan._ + +O-KATSU-SAN + +It seemed to come from the weeping willow tree. + +O-SODE-SAN + +O-Katsu! Perhaps some evil spirit haunts the tree. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Some hideous Gaki! Like the Gaki of Kokoru--the evil ghost that can feed +only on the unrest of humans. Their unhappiness is his food. He has to find +misery in order to live, and win his way back once more to humanity. To +different men he changes his shape at will, and sometimes is invisible. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Quick, Katsu, let us go to the shrine--and pray--and pray. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Ay. There! + +[_They go out. The Gaki appears._ + +THE GAKI + +Why did you sigh? + +THE VOICE OF THE TREE + +O Gaki of Kokoru! My heart hangs within me like the weight of years on +Obaa-San. + +THE GAKI + +Why did you moan? + +THE TREE + +The tree is growing--and it tears my heart. + +THE GAKI + +I live upon your unrest. Feed me! Feed me! + +[_The tree sighs and moans and The Gaki seems transported with joy._ + +THE TREE + +Please! Please! Give me my freedom. + +THE GAKI + +Where then should I feed? Unless I feed on your unhappiness I should cease +to live--and I must live. + +THE TREE + +Someone else, perchance, may suffer in my stead. + +THE GAKI + +I care not where or how I feed. I am in the sixth hell, and if I die in +this shape I must remain in this hell through all the eternities. One like +me must feed his misery by making others miserable. I can not rise through +the other five hells to human life unless I have human misery for my food. + +THE TREE + +Oh, can't you feed on joy--on happiness, on faith? + +THE GAKI + +Faith? Yes, perhaps--but only on perfect faith. If I found perfect +faith--ah, then--I dare not dream.--There is no faith. + +THE TREE + +Do not make me suffer more. Let me enjoy the loveliness of things. + +THE GAKI + +Would you have someone else suffer in your stead? + +THE TREE + +Someone else--someone else-- + +THE GAKI + +Ay--old Obaa-San--she whom they call the grandmother. + +[_The Tree moans._ + +THE GAKI + +She will suffer in your stead. + +THE TREE + +No! No! She loves me! She of all the world loves me! No--not she! + +THE GAKI + +It shall be she! + +THE TREE + +I shall not leave! + +THE GAKI + +You give me better food than I have ever known. You wait! You wait! + +THE TREE + +Here comes Obaa-San! Do not let her suffer for me! + +THE GAKI + +You shall be free--as free as anyone can be--when I have made the misery of +Obaa-San complete. + +THE TREE + +She has never fully known her misery. Her heart is like an iron-bound chest +long-locked, with the key lost. + +THE GAKI + +We shall find the key! We shall find the key! + +THE TREE + +I shall warn her. + +THE GAKI + +Try! + +THE TREE + +Alas! I can not make her hear! I can not tell her anything. + +THE GAKI + +She can not understand you! She can not see me unless I wish! Earth people +never see or hear! + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +[_Obaa-San enters. She is old, very, very old, and withered and misshapen. +There is only laughter in your heart when you look at Obaa-San unless you +see her eyes. Then_-- + +OBAA-SAN + +My tree! My little tree! Why do you sigh? + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +OBAA-SAN + +Sometimes I think I pity you. Yes, dear tree! + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +THE GAKI + +Now I am a traveller. She sees me pleasantly.--Grandmother! + +OBAA-SAN + +Ay, sir! + +THE GAKI + +Which way to Kyushu? + +OBAA-SAN + +You have lost your way. Far, far back beyond the ferry landing at Ishiyama +to your right. That is the way to Kyushu. + +THE GAKI + +Ah, me! + +OBAA-SAN + +You are tired. Will you not sit and rest?--Will you not have some rice? + +THE GAKI + +Oh, no.--Where is your brood, grandmother? + +OBAA-SAN + +I have no brood. I am no grandmother. I am no mother. + +THE GAKI + +What! Are there tears in your voice? + +OBAA-SAN + +Tears! Why should I weep? + +THE GAKI + +I do not know, grandmother! + +OBAA-SAN + +I am no grandmother!--Who sent you here to laugh at me?--O-Sode-San? 'Tis +she who laughs at me, because-- + +THE GAKI + +No one, old woman-- + +OBAA-SAN + +Yes, yes, old woman. That is it. Old woman!--Who are you? I am not wont to +cry my griefs to any one. + +THE GAKI + +Griefs? You have griefs? + +OBAA-SAN + +Ay! Even _I_--she whom they call Obaa-San--have griefs.--Even I! But they +are locked deep within me. No one knows! + +THE GAKI + +Someone must know. + +OBAA-SAN + +I shall tell no one. + +THE GAKI + +Someone must know! + +OBAA-SAN + +You speak like some spirit--and I feel that I must obey. + +THE GAKI + +Someone must know! + +OBAA-SAN + +I shall not speak. Who cares?--What is it I shall do? Tell my story--unlock +my heart--so that O-Sode-San may laugh and laugh and laugh. Is it not +enough that some evil spirit feeds upon my deep unrest? + +THE GAKI + +How can one feed upon your unrest when you lock it in your heart? (_The +voices of O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San are heard calling to Obaa-San_) Here +come some friends of yours. Tell them your tale. + +[_He goes out._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Strange. I feel that I must speak out my heart. + +[_O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San come in._ + +O-SODE-SAN + +Good morning, grandmother! + +OBAA-SAN (_with a strange wistfulness in her tone_) + +Good morning, O-Sode-San. Good morning, O-Katsu-San. May the bright day +bring you a bright heart. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +And you, Obaa-San. + +O-SODE-SAN + +How is the weeping willow tree, grandmother? + +OBAA-SAN + +It is there--close to me. + +O-SODE-SAN + +And does it speak to you, grandmother-- + +OBAA-SAN + +I am no grandmother! I am no grandmother! I am no mother! O-Sode, can you +not understand? I am no mother.--I am no wife.--There is no one.--I am only +an old woman.--In the spring I see the world turn green and I hear the song +of happy birds and feel the perfumed balmy air upon my cheek--and every +spring that cheek is older and more wrinkled and I have always been alone. +I see the stars on a summer night and listen for the dawn--and there never +has been a strong hand to touch me nor tiny fingers to reach out for me. I +have heard the crisp autumn winds fight the falling leaves and I have known +that long winter days and nights were coming--and I have always been +alone--alone. I have pretended to you--what else could I do? Grandmother! +Grandmother! Every time you speak the name, the emptiness of my life stands +before me like a royal Kakemono all covered with unliving people. + +O-SODE-SAN + +You never seemed to care. + +OBAA-SAN + +Did I not care! Grandmother! Grandmother! Why? Because I loved a weeping +willow tree. Because to me it was real. It was my baby. But no lover ever +came to woo. No words ever came to me.--Think you, O-Sode-San, that the +song of birds in the branches is ease to an empty heart. Think you that the +wind amongst the leaves soothes the mad unrest in here. (_She beats her +breast_) I have no one--no one. I talk to my weeping willow tree--but there +is no answer--no answer, O-Sode-San--only stillness--and yet--sometimes I +think I hear a sigh.--Grandmother! Grandmother! There! Is that enough? I've +bared my heart to you. Go spread the news--I am lonely and old--old.--I +have always been lonely. Go spread the news. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +No, Obaa-San. We shall not spread the news. No one shall know. + +O-SODE-SAN + +But--we pity you. + +OBAA-SAN + +I need no pity.--Now my heart is unlocked. The dread Gaki of Kokoru who +feeds upon unrest can come to me and feed upon my pain. I care not. + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Someone sighs. + +OBAA-SAN + +Yes. It is my tree. Perhaps there, too, someone in deep distress is +imprisoned--as I am imprisoned in this body.--Hai! You do not know. You do +not know! + +O-SODE-SAN + +Obaa-San--we have been hurting. I never knew--I am sorry, Obaa-San. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +You have been lonely, Obaa-San, but you have always been lonely. I know the +having and I know the losing. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Ay. 'Tis better to long for love than to have it--and then lose. Look at +me, whom the villagers call the bitter one. He came to me so long ago.--It +was spring, Obaa-San, and perfume filled the air and birds were singing +and his voice was like the voice from the sky-dome--all clear and +wonderful. Together we saw the cherry trees bloom--_once_: and on a summer +night we saw the wonder of the firefly fête. My heart was young and life +was beautiful. We watched the summer moon--and when the autumn came--Ai! +Ai! Ai! Obaa-San.--I knew a time of love--and oh, the time of hopelessness! +And I shut my heart. I did not see, Obaa-San. + +OBAA-SAN + +You knew his love, O-Sode-San. You touched his hand. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +But what is that? To her--my little girl--I gave all my dreams. I felt her +baby hands in mine and in the night I could reach out to her. I lived for +her. And then, one day--Obaa-San, I had known the joy of motherhood and I +had known the ecstasy of--child--and now--Her little life with me was only +a dream of spring, but still my back is warm with the touch of her +babyhood. The little toys still dance before my eyes. Oh, that was long +ago.--Now all is black. + +OBAA-SAN + +All blackness can never fill a mother's heart.--O-Katsu-San, you have known +the baby's hand in yours. But I am old--and I have never known, can never +know.--I'd go to the lowest hells if once I might but know the touch of my +own child's hand. + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai + +OBAA-SAN + +Just once--for one short day--to fill the empty place in my heart that has +always been empty--and a pain-- + +O-SODE-SAN + +Who is that man, Obaa-San? + +OBAA-SAN + +There? That is a stranger seeking for Kyushu. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +He seems to wish to speak to you. + +OBAA-SAN + +A strange man. 'Twas he who seemed to make me unlock my heart to you. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Then shall we go.--And we'll return, Obaa-San. + +OBAA-SAN + +Grandmother! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +We'll laugh no more. + +[_They leave. Obaa-San turns to the tree. The Gaki enters, strangely +agitated._ + +THE GAKI + +Obaa-San, for so they called you, tell me--did you say you'd go to the +lowest hells if you might know the touch of your own child? + +OBAA-SAN + +Forever--could I but fill this emptiness in my mother-heart. + +THE GAKI + +Would you really pay? + +OBAA-SAN + +Yes, yes. But why do you ask?--Who are you? + +THE GAKI + +I am a stranger bound for Kyushu. + +OBAA-SAN + +Why do you, too, make sport of me? + +THE GAKI + +Go you into your house and come not till I call. + +[_Obaa-San obeys under a strange compulsion._ + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai + +THE GAKI + +You can not feed me now. That cry was the wind amongst your branches. Come. +I bid you come to life, to human form. + +THE TREE + +I do not wish to come. + +THE GAKI + +I bid you come! + +[_When he touches the trunk of the tree, Aoyagi steps forth. She is small. +Her little body is swathed in brown and from her arms hang long sleeves +like the branches of the weeping willow. At first she shrinks. Then freedom +takes hold on her and she opens her arms wide._ + +THE GAKI + +You are free. + +AOYAGI + +Free! + +THE GAKI + +As free as one in life. You are bound to the tree as one might be bound to +his body in a dream--but you may wander as one wanders in a dream--free +until the waking--then when the tree suffers, you shall suffer. Though you +be leagues away, you shall suffer.--But first you shall dream.--Now you are +to be the daughter of Obaa-San. + +AOYAGI + +Oi! + +THE GAKI + +Do not call yet.--You are to wed the first young man who passes here and +you are to follow him. + +AOYAGI + +But--Obaa-San? + +THE GAKI + +She shall feed me with her new-made misery. + +AOYAGI + +No--no--she loved me so! + +THE GAKI + +She shall feed me. You will be happy. + +[_He disappears._ + +AOYAGI + +Free! And happy! + +[_The Gaki's voice is heard calling Obaa-San. She comes in and looks about. +At last her old tired eyes see Aoyagi. For a moment they face each other._ + +AOYAGI + +Hai. + +OBAA-SAN + +A dream! + +AOYAGI + +Mother-- + +[_Obaa-San stands mute. She listens--yearning for the word again._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Have you lost your way? + +AOYAGI + +No, mother-- + +[_Obaa-San does not know what to think or do. A strange giddiness seizes on +her and a great light fills her eyes._ + +OBAA-SAN + +How beautiful the name! But I am only Obaa-San. Your mother-- + +[_She shakes her old head sadly._ + +AOYAGI + +Obaa-San, my mother. + +[_Obaa-San lays her hand upon her heart. Then she stretches out her arms._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Obaa-San--your mother--where is my pain? And you--who are you? + +AOYAGI + +I am Aoyagi, mother. + +OBAA-SAN + +You have not lost your way? + +AOYAGI + +I have but just found my way. + +OBAA-SAN + +My pain is stilled. There is no emptiness. It is a dream--a dream of spring +and butterflies--Aoyagi! + +[_She stretches out her arms and silently Aoyagi glides into them--as +though they had always been waiting for her._ + +OBAA-SAN + +I seem never to have known a time when you were not here. + +AOYAGI + +Oh, mother dear, it is now--and now is always, if we will. + +OBAA-SAN + +It seems as though the weeping willow tree had warmed and shown its heart +to me. + +AOYAGI + +I am the Lady of the Weeping Willow tree! + +OBAA-SAN + +I care not who or what you are. You are here--close to my heart and I have +waited always. I know I dream--I know. + +AOYAGI + +How long I've tried to speak to you! + +OBAA-SAN + +How long my heart has yearned for you! + +AOYAGI + +Mother! + +[_The Gaki appears._ + +THE GAKI + +Such happiness. Already she has forgotten the coming of the man. + +OBAA-SAN + +Oh, how I've dreamed of you! When I was very, very young and had my little +doll, I dreamed of you. I used to sing a lullaby and still I sing it in my +heart: + + See, baby, see + The ears of the wolf are long; + Sleep, baby, sleep, + Your father is brave and strong. + +I grew into womanhood and still I dreamed of you. And, dreaming still, I +grew old. And all the world it seemed to me, made sport of my longing and +my loneliness. The people of the village called me grandmother. The +children echoed the grownups' cry and ran from me. Now--Aoyagi--you are +here. Oh, the warmth--the peace. Come let me gather flowers for the house. +Let me-- + +AOYAGI + +Oh, mother, dear. I am so happy here. + +OBAA-SAN (_suddenly becoming the solicitous mother, she handles Aoyagi as +one might handle a doll_) + +Are you--truly?--Are you warm?--You are hungry! + +AOYAGI + +No--I am just happy. + +[_She nestles close to Obaa-San. There is complete contentment._ + +OBAA-SAN + +I shall bring you--a surprise. + +[_She darts into the house. Immediately The Gaki comes in._ + +THE GAKI + +You seem very happy, Aoyagi. And your mother is very happy, too.--And I am +hungry now. + +AOYAGI + +You will not hurt her! Let me go back to the Weeping Willow Tree-- + +THE GAKI + +That would kill her--perhaps. + +AOYAGI + +No--no--I should be near her then--always. + +THE GAKI + +But where would I have my food? Not in your heart, not in hers--I should +starve and I must live. + +AOYAGI + +What then? + +THE GAKI + +See! + +[_He points to the road. Aoyagi looks in that direction as The Gaki +disappears. Riki comes in. Occasionally one may hear a bit of a lullaby +sung in the old cracked voice of Obaa-San_: + + See, baby, see + The ears of the wolf are long; + Sleep, baby, sleep, + Your father is brave and strong. + +_Riki is a poet, young, free, romantic. He faces Aoyagi a little moment as +though a wonderful dragonfly had poised above his reflection in a pool._ + +RIKI + +You are she! + +AOYAGI + +My--who--are--you? + +RIKI + +I am a poet--I have sought everywhere for you. + +AOYAGI + +I am the Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree! + +RIKI + +You are my love. + +AOYAGI + +I am the daughter of Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +I love you so! + +AOYAGI + +Yes--I love you so!--But I love Obaa-San, my mother-- + +RIKI + +Come with me. + +AOYAGI + +But Obaa-San-- + +RIKI + +Come with me. Butterfly, butterfly, alight upon the Willow Tree And if you +rest not well, then fly home to me. See! I make a little verse for you. + +AOYAGI + +But--Obaa-San--is very old and very lonely. + +RIKI + +She is your mother.--She must be glad to let you go. + +AOYAGI + +She does not know you. + +RIKI + +I know you. + +AOYAGI + +Yes--but I can not leave Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +We can not stay with Obaa-San. + +AOYAGI + +Can we not take her with us? + +RIKI + +No--like the Oshidori--we can go only by two and two along the silent +stream--and as Oshidori in silence and in happiness float on and on and +seem to cleave the mirrored sky that lies deep within the dark waters, so +we must go, we two, just you and I, to some silent place where only you and +I may be--and look and look until we see the thousand years of love in each +other's hearts. + +AOYAGI + +Something speaks to me above the pity for poor Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +It is love. + +AOYAGI + +I love Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +This is love beyond love. This is earth and air--sea and sky. + +AOYAGI + +I do not even know your name. + +RIKI + +What does my name matter? I am I--you are you. + +AOYAGI + +I love Obaa-San, my mother.--I feel happy in her arms;--I felt at +peace;--but now I feel that I must go to you.--I am fearful--yet I must +go.--You are-- + +RIKI + +I am Riki. But what can Riki mean that already my eyes have not said? + +AOYAGI + +I feel a strange unrest--that is happiness. + +RIKI + +Come! + +AOYAGI + +First let me speak to Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +Look--out there--a mountain gleaming in the fresh spring air.--Amongst the +trees I know a glade that waits for you and me.--A little stream comes +plashing by and silver fishes leap from pool to pool--dazzling jewels in +the leaf-broken sunlight. Tall bamboo trees planted deep in the father +earth reach up to the sky.--And there the hand of some great god can reach +down to us and feed our happiness-- + +AOYAGI + +Riki--I must go--I feel the strong hand leading me--I feel the happy +pain--I long--I would stay with Obaa-San; but, Riki, I must go.--Yon +mountain gleaming in the sun--the bamboo trees--the silver fishes--you-- + +[_Obaa-San enters carrying an armful of wistaria blossoms. She is radiant. +Then--she sees the lovers--and she understands. The blossoms slip from her +arms._ + +OBAA-SAN + +When do you go? + +AOYAGI + +Obaa-San, my mother--something outside of me calls and I must obey. + +OBAA-SAN + +I understand.--It must be wonderful, my little daughter. + +AOYAGI + +Mother!--This is Riki. + +OBAA-SAN + +Riki!--See that you bring her happiness. + +RIKI + +I could not fail. I have searched for her always. + +OBAA-SAN + +We always search for someone--we humans.--Sometimes we find--sometimes we +wait always. + +AOYAGI + +Riki, I must not go. Obaa-San is my mother--and I am all she has. + +OBAA-SAN + +Yes, Aoyagi, you are all I have and that is why I can let you go. Be +happy-- + +AOYAGI + +But you, my mother. + +OBAA-SAN + +For my sake, be happy. Some day I shall be Obaa-San no more--and what of +you then? Go, my little darling, go with Riki.--Some day, you will return. + +RIKI + +We shall return some day, Obaa-San. + +AOYAGI + +Farewell. + +[_Very simply she steps into Obaa-San's outstretched arms and then, as +though they had been forever empty, Obaa-San stands gazing into space with +her arms outstretched. Aoyagi and Riki go out._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Hai!--Hai! + +[_She lays her hand upon her heart and, looking into space, turns to the +house. There is the empty tree--her empty heart! The Gaki comes in._ + +THE GAKI + +Oi! Obaa-San! + +[_Obaa-San turns mechanically._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Did you not find your way? + +THE GAKI + +I found my way.--But why this unhappiness in your eyes? + +OBAA-SAN + +I am very lonely. I have lived my lifelong dream of spring and butterflies +a single instant--and it is gone. + +[_She turns to go._ + +THE GAKI + +I feed! I feed! + +[_The voices of O-Sode and O-Katsu are heard calling Obaa-San._ + +Here are your friends again. + +[_O-Sode and O-Katsu come in._ + +O-SODE-SAN + +Hai! Obaa-San, a little lady passed and told us you were lonely. + +OBAA-SAN + +I am lonely.--But I have always been lonely. + +O-SODE-SAN + +What has happened? + +[_The Gaki, hidden, has been triumphant. Suddenly he seems to shrivel as if +drawn with rage._ + +OBAA-SAN + +I waited, oh so long--you know.--I opened my arms.--My dream came true.--I +sang my lullaby--to my child.--A lover came;--they have gone. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +She is a-wander in her mind. + +OBAA-SAN + +I opened my arms here--like this.--She stepped into them as though she had +been there always--and now she has gone.--In one short moment I lived my +mother-life. + +O-SODE-SAN + +It was magic! Come, Obaa-San, we'll make some prayers to burn. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Some evil ghost. + +OBAA-SAN + +No! No! Some kindly spirit from the sky-dome came to me.--I have had one +moment of happiness complete.--I dreamed and I have known. Now I shall +dream again--a greater dream--a greater dream. + +[_The old women go into the house._ + +THE GAKI + +What! I can not feed! My Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree is gone! Obaa-San +has built a circle of happiness about her head. Hai! I shall die in this +shape.--I must feed.--Perhaps she tries to trick me.--I shall listen.--Why +does she not weep?--Why do they not wail? + +[_He starts for the house. As he nears it, the voice of Obaa-San is heard +crooning the little lullaby_: + + See, baby, see + The ears of the wolf are long; + Sleep, baby, sleep, + Your father is brave and strong. + +THE GAKI (_defeated, seems beside himself. Suddenly he looks out and sees +the mountain-peak_) I'll find them in the bamboo glade. Perhaps I can make +unhappiness there. Riki and Aoyagi! + + +_The Curtains Close._ + + + + +ACT II + + +_A Bamboo Glade on the Mountain-side._ + +[_The Gaki comes in._ + +THE GAKI + +This is the glade on the mountain side--the glade where Aoyagi and Riki +think to find their happiness. Here must I feed or I shall die in this +shape.--Hai!--They come. + +[_Riki and Aoyagi enter._ + +RIKI + +... and so like every other prince who is a real prince, he charged to the +top of the hill before his men; and they, following him, fell upon the +enemy and victory was theirs. + +AOYAGI + +And then--? + +RIKI + +And then the Princess laid her hand upon her heart. + +AOYAGI + +Is that all? + +RIKI + +Is that all? What more need there be? + +AOYAGI + +Did they not wed and have great happiness? + +RIKI + +You can answer that. + +AOYAGI + +I? I never heard the story before. + +RIKI + +One may always end a story--just right. + +AOYAGI + +Not a weeping willow tree? + +RIKI + +Even a weeping willow tree! + +AOYAGI + +How? + +RIKI + +I'll show you.--Stand right here.--So! I stand here.--Now look at me. + +AOYAGI + +I am looking. + +RIKI + +Place your hand upon your heart. + +AOYAGI + +Ay. + +RIKI + +Now I am the Prince. With sword in hand I come to you. From Kyushu to Koban +I've fought my way to you;--through forest, marsh and mountain path I've +striven for you. Now I am here.--Look at me. + +AOYAGI + +Ah! + +[_With a cry of delight she rushes to his arms._ + +RIKI + +And did they wed? + +AOYAGI + +Ah, love beyond love. + +RIKI + +And did they have great happiness? + +AOYAGI + +Ah! + +[_She nestles close to him._ + +[Illustration: THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE + +ACT III.] + +RIKI + +My little princess! I did not come to you sword in hand; I did not fight my +way from Kyushu to Koban. But I strove for you through forest, marsh and +mountain pass.--Within me throbbed a mighty song that I could not sing. I +saw almost all the world, it seems, and once I heard a voice that seemed to +call to me alone. It was at the ferry of Ishiyama. I followed the +sound--and there she stood all aglow in the morning sunlight. But when I +saw, the song still throbbed within my heart and I could not sing to +her.--Someone else called to me--"Hai! Hai! Hai!" + +AOYAGI + +And what of her--the vision at the ferry of Ishiyama? + +RIKI + +For all I know she may still be standing there in the morning sunlight all +aglow.--I have found you! + +AOYAGI + +And was she--fair? + +RIKI + +Ay--how can I say? Now all the world is fair because I see only you in +earth and sky and everything. + +AOYAGI + +She was aglow in the morning sun. + +RIKI + +How can I say? I heard her voice;--a song was in my heart--a song for +you.--I saw her--the song staid locked in my heart for you. + +AOYAGI + +Riki--Riki-- + +RIKI + +A dream that's true. + +AOYAGI + +I do not understand it all.--Obaa-San--you--this happiness.--I have known +happiness, but not like this.--When I was in the weeping willow +tree--sometimes I was happy and sometimes I was hurt.--Oh, Riki, Riki, this +glade is like the weeping willow tree! Whenever the soft air sways the +leaves, I feel the same sweet joy as when the little breezes played amongst +my branches. The rain--oh, the gentle little rain that cooled me in the hot +summer--the drops that danced from leaf to leaf and felt like smiles upon +my face. Tears! The rain is not like tears, Riki. + +RIKI + +The dew is tears, perhaps. + +AOYAGI + +The dew! It came to me like a cool veil that the morning sun would lift and +little breezes bear away. Then sometimes--the voice, the loneliness of +Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +Look where her home lies. Far down there beyond that stream, see--there is +Kyushu. + +AOYAGI + +Oh, Riki, my Riki, my august lord, why, why can I stay here in happiness +with you when I know that Obaa-San is miserable and alone? + +RIKI + +I can not say? I only know that we are here--you and I--and we are happy. +Two make a world, Aoyagi. Why? How? I do not know. + +AOYAGI + +Can we not send a message to Obaa-San? + +RIKI + +Yes. I shall go down the mountain to the road and tell some passer-by. + +AOYAGI + +And I? + +RIKI + +Sit here and rest--and watch the silver stream at Kyushu. + +AOYAGI + +I shall wait--I shall wait. + +RIKI + +Sayonara. + +AOYAGI + +Sayonara.--Sayonara, my august lord. + +[_Riki goes out. Aoyagi, left alone, feels the air in the old way. She +sways slightly in the breeze, then flutters toward the steps._ + +Oh, Kyushu! The silver stream at Kyushu! + +[_She evidently sees the place where Obaa-San lives. Her eyes dim a bit and +slowly she hums the old lullaby_: + + See, baby, see, + The ears of the wolf are long; + Sleep, baby, sleep, + Thy father is brave and strong. + +Poor Obaa-San! + +[_The Gaki appears._ + +THE GAKI + +I have lost my way. + +[_Aoyagi turns quickly, questioning him almost fearfully with her eyes. +There is something of the Aoyagi of the time when The Gaki bade her leave +Obaa-San._ + +AOYAGI + +Whither are you bound? + +THE GAKI + +I am a stranger bound for Kyushu. + +AOYAGI + +There is Kyushu. (_She indicates the silver stream_) + +THE GAKI + +I am told there is a ferry on the way to Kyushu. + +AOYAGI + +Yes,--at Ishiyama. + +THE GAKI + +At--Ishiyama. + +AOYAGI + +Why do you speak so? + +THE GAKI + +I merely echoed your own words. + +AOYAGI + +I did not say them so terribly. + +THE GAKI + +What is in your heart came into your voice, perhaps. + +AOYAGI + +There is the way to Kyushu. + +THE GAKI + +Down that path? + +AOYAGI + +Yes. Did you not meet Riki? + +THE GAKI + +Riki? + +AOYAGI + +Yes, my august lord. + +THE GAKI + +I passed no one--except--a tall woman who was climbing slowly and singing a +wonderful song--which I had heard once near the ferry at Ishiyama. + +AOYAGI + +But Riki just left me here. You must have passed him on the way. + +THE GAKI + +The by-paths are many and the trysting places are secret--like this. + +AOYAGI + +Riki would take no by-path. My august lord needs no trysting place save +this. + +THE GAKI + +I do not know. I saw no Riki. + +AOYAGI + +My lord needs no trysting place. I am here. He knows I am here--waiting. + +[_The Gaki looks at her._ + +THE GAKI + +Riki? + +AOYAGI + +He knows I am waiting-- + +THE GAKI + +Riki?--Oh, yes the name--I heard it--once--at the ferry at Ishiyama. He has +been there. + +AOYAGI + +Yes. + +THE GAKI + +A poet? + +AOYAGI + +Yes. + +THE GAKI + +He writes wonderful love-songs--they say. + +AOYAGI + +They? + +THE GAKI + +Yes,--the people at Ishiyama. I heard one.--It goes--let me see: + +"Butterfly, butterfly, alight upon the willow tree--" + +AOYAGI + +He did not speak that at Ishiyama. He made that for me. + +THE GAKI + +I heard it, strange to say, at Ishiyama. Perhaps they brought it +from--where did you say? + +AOYAGI + +He made that for me only yesterday. + +THE GAKI + +And I heard it--yesterday--at Ishiyama. There the wonderful woman was +singing. (_She looks at him_) The one I passed just now. + +AOYAGI + +That is a mistake.--You are wrong.--I know my--Ah! what is it here--that +hurts me, tears me, seems to choke me! Riki!--I am all in all to him--he +told me that.--He can not make poems for another. + +THE GAKI + +I should not have told anything.--Forgive me.--I did not know.--To speak +truth is deep in my heart.--I have no gracious subtleties.--I am sorry-- + +AOYAGI + +In the valley there is a mist. I can no longer see the silver stream at +Kyushu.--Who are you?--I am afraid!--Riki--Riki-- + +[_There is no answer._ + +THE GAKI + +He does not seem to hear.--I shall go to meet him. He went this way, you +say? + +AOYAGI + +Yes.--There is a mist in the valley and I can not see the silver stream at +Kyushu-- + +[_She does not see The Gaki who goes in the direction opposite to the one +Aoyagi has indicated._ + +Oh, the little day--the little day--of love beyond love.--Riki--my mother, +Obaa-San.--Yesterday the mountain-top gleamed like the topmost heaven in +the spring sunlight. Today--the valley dies in mist and the mountain-top is +lost in the sky. + +RIKI (_coming in singing_) + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +AOYAGI + +I must go back to Obaa-San, my mother. + +RIKI + +What has happened, Aoyagi? + +AOYAGI + +We came up the mountain path side by side, Riki. Without question I gave +myself to you. + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +AOYAGI + +I gave my love--my love beyond love. I believed. + +RIKI + +Why not believe? + +AOYAGI + +Your first words were--"You are she!" I did not question. And now-- + +RIKI + +Oh, my little love, was I gone too long? + +AOYAGI + +My love knows no time, Riki.--You were gone--how can I say?--ages. + +RIKI + +It was ages, too, to me, Aoyagi. + +AOYAGI (_softening_) + +I watched the silver stream at Kyushu--and I waited. + +RIKI + +What, are those tears? + +AOYAGI + +Nothing, Riki--but I feel so far away--from Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +She can bridge the distance with her heart. A mother can always bridge all +distance with her heart. + +AOYAGI + +Hai! + +RIKI + +Our happiness is all she wants. + +AOYAGI + +Our happiness--(_bitterly_) + +RIKI (_He goes to her. She moves away_) + +Why-- + +AOYAGI + +The silver fishes-- + +RIKI + +What has happened, Aoyagi? + +AOYAGI + +Did you send the message to Obaa-San? + +RIKI + +Yes. + +AOYAGI + +Did you go down the path? + +RIKI + +Yes. + +AOYAGI + +Did you pass a stranger on the way? + +RIKI + +No. + +AOYAGI + +A stranger just came by.--He came up the mountain path. + +RIKI + +I crossed the stream. + +AOYAGI (_She takes a deep breath_) + +You crossed the stream. + +RIKI + +Aoyagi--little sweetheart--I cannot understand.--What do you mean? + +AOYAGI + +Oh, Riki, Riki, I am so alone. Tell me what--why--why-- + +RIKI + +Aoyagi, was I gone too long? Has some demon come to you? + +AOYAGI + +No demon came. You were gone too long. + +RIKI + +I went down the path and crossed the stream to take a shorter way. I met a +stranger-- + +AOYAGI + +Singing? + +RIKI + +Yes--I think she was singing. + +AOYAGI + +_She_ was singing. + +RIKI + +What do you mean, Aoyagi? + +AOYAGI + +Who was she? + +RIKI + +I do not know.--She said she would pass Ishiyama. + +AOYAGI + +Where did you see her? + +RIKI + +Beyond the stream--in a little glade. + +AOYAGI + +Did she sing your song? + +RIKI + +My song? No. + +AOYAGI + +Did she know your songs? + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! What do you want to know? + +AOYAGI + +Did she know your song to me--"Butterfly, butterfly, alight upon the willow +tree"? + +RIKI + +Perhaps.--I made that to you years ago--when you were a dream in my heart. + +AOYAGI + +At Ishiyama? + +RIKI + +Perhaps. + +AOYAGI + +Hai!--Obaa-San, my mother!--Oh, my heart--my heart-- + +RIKI + +Aoyagi--what have I done? Let me comfort you! + +[_He goes to her._ + +AOYAGI + +You leave me nothing in all the world. + +RIKI + +I give you all my world. + +AOYAGI + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +RIKI + +Let me go and call the lady bound for Ishiyama. + +AOYAGI + +Riki!--ah! + +RIKI + +Little Aoyagi--my love--she will be tender with you.--And when your tears +are gone, she'll bear your message on to Obaa-San. + +[_He goes to her, but she draws away. For a moment he is uncertain what to +do;--then--he speaks._ + +I'll bring her back to you. + +AOYAGI + +Riki!--No!--We came up the mountain-path together--side by side.--We--but +now, Riki, we go two ways.--I to Obaa-San--you to-- + +RIKI + +What do you mean? + +AOYAGI + +Go sing your songs at Ishiyama! Go make your poems to the butterfly.--I-- + +RIKI + +I have made songs only for you. + +AOYAGI + +But the songs for me are on every tongue. + +RIKI + +Ay--I am proud of that. + +AOYAGI + +The lady at the ferry at Ishiyama-- + +RIKI + +She learned the song to you! + +AOYAGI + +Ah! + +[_Aoyagi rushes upon him and before she realizes what she is doing, she +strikes him. He stands petrified a moment, then faces her very calmly._ + +RIKI + +I shall find the stranger-woman and send her to you.--I can no longer help +you. + +AOYAGI + +You can no longer help.--Oh--life--oh, love--this too short day-- + +RIKI + +I shall stay near at hand until you return to Obaa-San. + +AOYAGI + +I shall find the path alone. + +RIKI + +I'll send the stranger-woman to you. + +[_Riki goes out._ + +AOYAGI + +Hai! Hai! Hai! I watched the sunrise only yesterday and I trembled with the +wonder of the dew-cooled dawn. Life seemed all peace and--today--I have +known a mother's love and my mother.--I have known a lover's touch--love +beyond love.--I am waking from a dream. The Gaki said I'd waken--I'd be as +free as one in life. Oh, what is this thing they call life? No happiness +complete--a vision of a mountain top--a climbing to the goal--a bamboo +glade--oh, the mist at Kyushu.--When I go back to Obaa-San--I shall love +her so--but oh, the memory of Riki--the mountain gleaming in the sun-- + +[_She starts sadly from the path. The Gaki enters._ + +THE GAKI + +Lady, I am here again. It seemed to me that I must return to you. Something +seemed to call. (_Aoyagi almost collapses_) I feed! I feed! + +AOYAGI + +I can not go! + +THE GAKI + +You seem to suffer. + +AOYAGI + +Oh--I have lost my way in life-- + +THE GAKI + +Lost your way in life? Let me help you. + +AOYAGI + +I have stood on the mountain side and I have seen the green valleys far +below. + +THE GAKI + +Talk to me--as you would to yourself.--I hear but I shall not speak what I +hear. + +AOYAGI + +Riki--no, I can not speak even to myself. Deep in me there is a hurt.--I +can not tell-- + +THE GAKI + +A woman gives all;--the man forgets. + +AOYAGI + +But to Riki--he knows--I brought him my full belief--my all-in-all. + +THE GAKI + +Your perfect faith. + +AOYAGI + +Ay, my perfect faith.--He spoke to me and then I bowed to my august +lord.--I followed him without question.--And he forgets so soon. + +THE GAKI + +Are you sure he has forgotten? + +AOYAGI + +You know--you saw the lady from Ishiyama. + +THE GAKI + +True.--I saw her. + +AOYAGI + +You did not meet him on the path. + +THE GAKI + +True.--I did not meet him on the path. + +AOYAGI + +He crossed the stream. + +THE GAKI + +Perhaps to shorten the way. + +AOYAGI + +He met her in a little glade.--Hai! + +THE GAKI + +What shall you do? + +AOYAGI + +I'll go my way. I'll return to Obaa-San. + +THE GAKI + +I'll guide you down the mountain side.--Come, we'll take the shorter +way--the by-paths--across the stream--through the little glade-- + +AOYAGI (_She looks about once more at the scene of her happiness_) + +Hai! + +THE GAKI + +Come! + +AOYAGI + +No, let us go down the path.--I want to see my footprints--side by side +with his. + +THE GAKI + +Perhaps they're being crushed under the feet of the lady from Ishiyama! + +[_Aoyagi starts a moment as though to fly along the path before the lady +comes.--She sways slowly--and then falls in a pitiful little heap.--The +Gaki takes her in his arms and, utterly triumphant, starts up the +mountain-side._ + +We'll go up--up--sweet Aoyagi, to the snow peak--gleaming in the +sun.--You'll find the mountain-top--not lost in the sky.--Your perfect +faith!--Oh, you silly human--oh, futile love--climb, Aoyagi--climb without +love.--But first we'll make footprints for the lover's eyes.--Blindness +will lead him to the mists at Kyushu.--Jealousy will lead you to the lonely +stars. + +[_He holds Aoyagi so that her feet touch the ground--toward the downward +path. Then with a wild laugh, he turns toward the mountain top. As the +laughter dies, the voice of Riki is heard calling_ + +Aoyagi! Aoyagi!... Oi! + +[_The laugh of The Gaki is heard once more very far away--as he ascends the +mountain with his burden._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi!--Aoyagi! + +[_Riki comes running in. Presently he sees the footprints._ + +Oi!--Aoyagi! + +[_He runs down the path._ + +Aoyagi!--Aoyagi! + +[_Far, very far away The Gaki's laugh is heard._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi!--Aoyagi! + +[_Night has fallen slowly._ + +Aoyagi!--Aoyagi! + + +_The Curtains Close._ + + + + +ACT III + +_Before the House of Obaa-San_ + + +[_It is moonlight. As the curtain opens, Obaa-San is heard singing the +lullaby; from the distance the voice of Riki calls._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi!--Aoyagi!--Aoyagi!--Aoyagi! Oi! + +[_Obaa-San appears in the doorway._ + +Aoyagi! + +OBAA-SAN (_She goes toward the voice_) + +Oi! + +[_Riki enters._ + +RIKI + +Obaa-San! Where is Aoyagi? + +OBAA-SAN + +Where is Aoyagi? + +RIKI + +Is she not here? + +OBAA-SAN + +She is not here. Where--Riki! + +RIKI + +I left her in the bamboo glade--and when I returned she was gone. Her +footprints pointed toward the path--and then were lost. + +OBAA-SAN + +Why did you leave her? + +RIKI + +I left her because she--I left her. + +OBAA-SAN + +I do not know, Riki, what has come to pass--but this I know--I am waiting +for her.--I am waiting for her. Go seek for her--and bring her back to me. + +RIKI + +I shall search for her.--Obaa-San, she-- + +OBAA-SAN + +I care not what she did. I am waiting here for her. + +[_Riki looks at Obaa-San a moment and then understands._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +[_He goes out. Obaa-San turns to the empty house--the empty willow tree._ + +OBAA-SAN + +She will come back to me. + +[_She goes into the house. The Gaki enters._ + +THE GAKI + +Foolish Riki! He searches in the valley. Mad Aoyagi! Alone with the lonely +stars!--Oh, wondrous misery that makes itself. + +[_He sees Obaa-San. She enters from the house._ + +Good-morning, Obaa-San, my friend. + +OBAA-SAN + +Good-morning, traveller. + +THE GAKI + +Why do you rise before the dawn? + +OBAA-SAN + +I could not rest.--Why are you not at Kyushu? + +THE GAKI + +There is a mist at Kyushu--and I feared to lose my way. + +OBAA-SAN + +Did you pass a little lady--Aoyagi, by name--alone-- + +THE GAKI + +It seems--I met a little lady.--She was not happy.--That one? + +OBAA-SAN + +Where? + +THE GAKI + +I am a stranger here--I cannot say. Over there--or over there. + +OBAA-SAN + +She will come to me, perhaps. + +THE GAKI + +Do you know her? + +OBAA-SAN + +She is my daughter,--Aoyagi. + +THE GAKI + +Do you not fear for her? + +OBAA-SAN + +Perhaps.--She will be here soon.--Riki has gone for her. + +THE GAKI + +She must know the way. + +[_The voices of O-Sode and O-Katsu are heard._ + +This has been a restless night for age. (_He disappears. O-Sode-San and +O-Katsu-San enter_) + +OBAA-SAN + +Good-morning, O-Sode-San. Good-morning, O-Katsu-San.--The lily hands of +sleep have passed you by. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +A strange unrest has seized upon me. I think--and think of my little one. +She is glorious in my heart, and words with wings seem to flash before my +eyes like fireflies in the darkness. + +O-SODE-SAN + +I, too, have lived in words. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Obaa-San, is it not wonderful to put a joy or pain in words? + +OBAA-SAN + +Ah, yes--if there is anyone to hear them. All my long, long years before +Aoyagi came to me, my heart sang, and words freighted with my dreams and my +love would come to me--here; and they would die because they found no ear +attuned to them.--Tell me what you thought, O-Sode-San. + +O-SODE-SAN + + The moon in calm restlessness + Shows the water grasses of the River of Heaven, + Swaying in the cool spring air-- + I know the time to meet my lover + Is not too far away. + +OBAA-SAN + +Every one has a poem in his heart, I believe.--What was your poem, O-Katsu? + +O-KATSU-SAN + + Oh, messenger of the other world, + My little one is young; + She can not find her way-- + Do you kindly take my little one + Upon your warm, broad back + Along the twilight path. + +O-SODE-SAN + +And you, Obaa-San,--was it words that kept sleep from your eyes? + +OBAA-SAN + +Ay, bitter dream-words. And for the bitterness I am paying dearly.--Over +and over the words came to me: + + Here lies my daughter's sleeping body + On the mat beside me. + But her soul is far away + Asleep in her lover's arms-- + And I, her white-haired mother, + Hold only an empty shell. + +Oh, I am ashamed--ashamed.--And just now Riki came to me--and told me he +could not find Aoyagi. + +O-KATSU-SAN AND O-SODE-SAN + +Hai! + +O-SODE-SAN + +Can we not search for her? + +OBAA-SAN + +I am waiting here.--She may find her way back.--I would not have her come +to an empty house.--Come--let's go within--and dream that yours and yours +and mine are on their way to us. + +[_The old women go into the house. There is just a moment's silence--then_: + +AOYAGI + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +[_Aoyagi, utterly forlorn, enters. She looks at the house, turns and sees +the mountains, covers her eyes, and drags herself wearily to the willow +tree. She moans as though winter had fallen upon the world and were +taunting her. The Gaki enters._ + +THE GAKI + +So you have found your way--in life. + +AOYAGI + +Oh, let me go back to my tree! + +THE GAKI + +No, little Aoyagi--you would be happy then. + +AOYAGI + +Let me die! + +THE GAKI + +One can not die. + +AOYAGI + +Hai! + +THE GAKI + +Where have you been? + +AOYAGI + +So far--so far!--I am weary.--When I awoke, I was on the +mountain-top--alone. + +THE GAKI + +Were there no stars? + +AOYAGI + +Oh--the stars, the lonely, lonely stars! I tried to touch them--they seemed +so near.--I found the path--the glade--our footprints--strange people--I am +here. Let me back! Let me back! + +THE GAKI + +And what of Riki? + +AOYAGI + +He does not care. + +THE GAKI + +And what of Obaa-San? + +AOYAGI + +What can I give to Obaa-San now--but misery? Am I never to be free? + +THE GAKI + +What would you do if you were free--climb to the mountain top to see the +lonely stars? + +AOYAGI + +Hai!--Riki!--Obaa-San! + +[_Obaa-San enters. The Gaki disappears._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Was my name spoken in the dawn? + +AOYAGI + +Mother! + +[_With a cry of joy, Obaa-San enfolds Aoyagi in her arms._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Nadeshiko! My little girl! + +AOYAGI + +Where is Riki? + +OBAA-SAN + +He has gone to search for you. + +AOYAGI + +Was he alone? + +OBAA-SAN + +Alone? + +AOYAGI + +Yes. Was there no woman with him--a lady from Ishiyama? + +OBAA-SAN + +A lady from-- + +AOYAGI + +Yes--tall--fair--singing-- + +OBAA-SAN + +He was alone. A lady from Ishiyama--(_Aoyagi shudders with dread_) brought +me a message in the early night-- + +AOYAGI + +It was she--young? + +OBAA-SAN + +No--old. + +AOYAGI + +Had she seen Riki? + +OBAA-SAN + +Yes. On the mountain-side-- + +AOYAGI + +The stranger said she was young and fair. + +OBAA-SAN + +Perhaps the stranger did not see with honest eyes. + +AOYAGI + +He would not lie. + +OBAA-SAN + +Sometimes the eyes and the ears lie. + +AOYAGI + +Ah! + +OBAA-SAN + +And if she had been young and fair? + +AOYAGI + +Riki met her in a glade. + +OBAA-SAN + +Did you see them meet? + +AOYAGI + +No--she was singing. + +OBAA-SAN + +A happy song, perhaps. + +AOYAGI + +She sang the song he made to me. + +OBAA-SAN + +How do you know? + +AOYAGI + +Riki said she knew his song to me. + +OBAA-SAN + +Ah, that is beautiful, that she should love his song to you. + +AOYAGI + +He-- + +OBAA-SAN + +My little darling, I do not know what really happened; but this I know, you +did not speak fairly to Riki or Riki did not speak fairly to you. Almost +every unhappiness comes because we speak too much of our pride and speak +too little of our hearts. + +AOYAGI + +I asked him if he saw her. + +OBAA-SAN + +Why? + +AOYAGI + +A stranger told me-- + +OBAA-SAN + +Was it the stranger you believed before Riki could defend himself? + +AOYAGI + +But, mother, I gave my all in all to Riki. He does not care. + +OBAA-SAN + +Do you know? + +AOYAGI + +I asked Riki if they met? + +OBAA-SAN + +Did he tell you? + +AOYAGI + +He seemed to be proud to tell. + +OBAA-SAN + +Then he was unashamed to tell-- + +AOYAGI + +I asked him questions. + +OBAA-SAN + +But did you ask him the great question in your heart? + +AOYAGI + +Oh-- + +OBAA-SAN + +Did you say, "Riki, my love, you are in all my heart. Am I in all yours?" + +AOYAGI + +He told me that. + +OBAA-SAN + +And did you believe? + +AOYAGI + +Above all the world! + +OBAA-SAN + +Then why doubt him later? + +AOYAGI + +The lady from Ishiyama passed by. + +OBAA-SAN + +My child, a lady bound for Ishiyama passed by! Had she been singing all the +love-songs of all the worlds; had she been fairer than the lotus-flower, +why should you have doubted Riki? + +AOYAGI + +A stranger-- + +OBAA-SAN + +A stranger!--a stranger!--Oh, why--why--why do the eyes of love grow blind +because a stranger speaks? You, Aoyagi, did not see the lady bound for +Ishiyama. You did not hear her song--and yet upon the ears and eyes of a +stranger you would shatter your love.--I saw the lady.--She was +singing.--She was not fair.--If she had been--Oh, my little child--Riki is +Riki, your august lord, the lord of your life. When he comes back, go to +him and speak from your heart. + +AOYAGI + +What shall I say? + +OBAA-SAN + +I need not tell your heart.--It is only your head that can not learn to +speak unprompted.--Do you love Riki? + +AOYAGI + +Ay--so dearly! + +[_The voice of Riki is heard._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +AOYAGI + +He is coming! + +[_Obaa-San, unnoticed, goes into the house. Riki enters._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +[_When he sees she is safe, he drops suddenly. She goes to him._ + +AOYAGI + +Riki, my august lord, listen to my heart.--Forget my anger.--Tell me once +again that you love me.--I'll believe. + +RIKI + +You know--I have always loved you.--When you were a song in my heart, I +loved you so! And now-- + +AOYAGI + +Oh, Riki, can we ever forget the blow I struck? + +RIKI + +That was yesterday--see, this is today: the dawn has spread across the sky. +What shall we do? Look back upon the bitterness of yesterday, or try to see +the fears of tomorrow, or live in the gladness of today? + +AOYAGI + +The Gaki of Kokoru is here at the tree. He will not let us live in +happiness. He let me go with you because he meant to feed upon the misery +of poor Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +He has not come upon us yet. We are struggling against tomorrow. This is +the dawning of today. + +AOYAGI + +Then shall we live--today. + +[_Obaa-San enters from the house._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Come, Aoyagi; come, Riki. We have found happiness at our door. Within there +is rice and tea. Come. + +[_They go into the house. The Gaki enters._ + +[Illustration: THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE + +ACT III.] + +THE GAKI + +There is love!--Now what shall I do for misery? Old Obaa-San remembers +happiness. She has taught O-Katsu and O-Sode to remember happiness. The +lovers are reunited;--now they understand.--And I--I, ah, I must die in +this dread shape and stay in this hell through all the eternities unless I +bring new misery to them. What can I do? (_He turns to see the tree_) Ah--I +shall kill the tree--slowly--slowly--and I'll feed upon them all. Aoyagi is +bound to the tree as one is bound to his body in a dream.--I'll kill the +tree. + +[_He draws his short sword and smites the tree. There is a cry from the +house and Aoyagi enters quickly, followed by Riki, Obaa-San, O-Katsu-San, +and O-Sode-San. Aoyagi holds her heart._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! (_She droops in his arms. Obaa-San lays her hand upon her dear +child's head. O-Katsu-San understands. The Gaki in triumph smiles again. +Aoyagi cries out and shudders as she clings to Riki_) Oh, whatever power +gave strength to me and led me to my love, give me the chance to save my +love. + +AOYAGI + +The tree!--The tree! + +[_The Gaki smites again._ + +RIKI + +The Gaki of Kokoru! Ay, I know! I know! I fight a fear, Obaa-San. Hold +Aoyagi fast--with all your love.--I shall find the Gaki of Kokoru! (_The +Gaki smites the tree again and again, and at each stroke Aoyagi fails more +and more until she finally crumples in a heap among the three old women_) +All strength! All faith to me! Into my hands give the power to break the +bitterest hell asunder! Into my eyes put light that I may see the cowardly +fears that infest our way.--Gaki! Gaki! where are you?--I pass about you +and in my heart I carry fearlessness and faith.--Upon your wickedness I +hurl belief.--Ah, now, I see you. + +THE GAKI + +Let me go! Let me go! + +RIKI + +You shall bring misery into no more hearts! + +THE GAKI + +Ah, pity me! Let me go! I must feed or I shall die! + +RIKI + +You shall feed no more! + +THE GAKI + +Do not let me die in this sixth hell! Do not let me die! Once I was +human--like you and you. I came into this hell because I was bitter in +life.--I made misery for others.--I put mischief in their minds.-- + +RIKI (_leaping upon him_) + +You shall make no more misery. + +THE GAKI + +Let me feed! Let me live! I can not die thus. + +RIKI (_throttling him_) + +Dread demon, the end has come! + +THE GAKI + +Please--please--hear me. + +RIKI + +Nay, you have made your last horror in our lives. + +OBAA-SAN + +Riki! Hear him--hear him.--We know not what we do, perhaps. + +RIKI + +Then speak. + +THE GAKI + +Let me go! Do you think it did not punish me to see your misery, to bring +misery upon you? That is what these hells are. In life we can not always +see what wretchedness we make; in the hells we see and know and understand, +but we can not escape our evil until we've sucked the bitterness, the +horror to the blackest end. Oh--five hells lie between me and human life. +In each I may perchance forget the lesson learned before. Let me live! Let +me live!--I can not fight your faith!--Let me live! + +RIKI + +What further harm will you do? + +THE GAKI + +I cannot help myself. I must live on you.--You are young-- + +[_He tears himself from Riki and once more rushes to the tree. Aoyagi +writhes a moment in agony. Riki leaps upon The Gaki, throttling him once +more. The struggle is terrific._ + +RIKI + +Die! + +THE GAKI + +Let me go! Let me live!--I promise anything--I-- + +RIKI + +Too late!--You shall harm no more! + +[_With one supreme effort, The Gaki draws himself to his full height and +seems about to crush Riki. He leaps upon the prostrate Aoyagi and flings +her body high above his head. Riki starts for him._ + +THE GAKI + +I shall live! I shall live! + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +THE GAKI + +Come not near me, Riki, or I shall crush her at your feet. I _shall_ live! + +[_He laughs the hideous laugh of triumph which rang out on the mountain +side yesterday._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Give her back to us! Feed on me! + +THE GAKI + +In your heart there is only hope and beautiful memory. Old fool, I can not +feed on you.--But now in my arms I hold the precious gift by which I shall +pass from hell to hell. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Take me! + +THE GAKI + +Silly old woman, you, too, like Obaa-San, can not feed me. Age learns to +grasp at bubbles and pretend that they are stars. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +But I shall dream of my little girl. + +THE GAKI + +Ay, dream of her and have tender memories that are not pain. + +O-SODE-SAN + +I shall think of him and long for him, my lover. + +THE GAKI + +Ay, and in the memory of the firefly fête you'll make a poem that will +leave you all melting-like and holy--then where shall I feed? + +RIKI + +Obaa-San, are you content? I'll let her die at my own hand before I'll let +him live. + +[_He draws his dagger and leaps toward The Gaki; but old Obaa-San is too +swift for him. She catches his hand._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Riki! Would you kill the evil by killing the joy of us all? + +RIKI + +But the joy--my little Aoyagi--can not live so. See-- + +OBAA-SAN + +O Gaki of Kokoru--I stand before you, no longer a suppliant. I am old and +in my years I have known all the wanting, all the hopelessness one can know +in life. But in your evil way, you brought to me a moment of happiness +yesterday and in that moment I saw the beauty that I had always believed +must be and yet that I had never known. In your evil arms you hold the +treasure of my life--you hold the songs that filled the heart of Riki. But +you do not feed, oh, Gaki of Kokoru. You can not feed. Oh, Gaki, what is +this sixth hell of yours?--Who made it? Some man who was afraid of the joy +of life;--it was too beautiful for his belief. Misery makes itself: so +happiness makes itself. You stand before us, holding the darling of our +dreams, but there is no misery so great as yours. See! I stand before +you--unafraid--and in my heart lies happiness.--Aoyagi rested in my arms +and my breast is warm and there is a glory where her dear head lay. In my +life--if you take her from me--there will be an emptiness.--There will be +long silences in the days to come; but my breast will still be warm with +her touch and my ears will still hear the sweet words you cannot unsay--the +lullaby I sang.--Oh, Gaki--it has been sung to her.--The climbing to the +mountain gleaming in the sun--the glade where love found the perfect +mystery--that cannot be undone whether we live or die.--Love that has been +can never be undone. + +[_The Gaki looks from one to the other, but finds only that splendid +happiness that is almost pain. He loosens his hold upon Aoyagi and turns to +Riki with her._ + +THE GAKI + +She is yours!--I have met perfect faith.--Five hells lie before me--but I +have met a perfect faith.--You cannot know what wonder I am knowing. From +the sixth hell I have seen a perfect faith.--I am content to die in this +shape. Strike, Riki! + +RIKI + +I have my love. + +THE GAKI + +But a peace has come upon me, a peace that I have never known.--I seem to +be on wings--afloat in the sky.--Stars and suns swing gently by--and cool +clouds brush my brow.--Five hells lie before me.--Can it be, in each I +shall find peace like this?--(_He falls on his knees_) Now a fire rages +deep in me--a pain--I'm torn.--Oh, Obaa-San, I die--I die.--Come to +me--touch me--let me feel your gentle hands.--So! So!--I have never known +such gentleness.--Oh, I am cold--cold! Hold me-- + +[_He rises--sways--and falls. It is full day. The Gaki rises wonderfully._ + +Obaa-San--I see--I see.--The hells were made by some man afraid of the joy +of life.--It was too beautiful for his belief.--Riki--Aoyagi, there is the +mountain gleaming in the morning light.--Go--see your footprints side by +side.--A Gaki's feet trod upon them, but left no mark--and they are there +side by side.--O-Sode-San, I look across the River of Heaven;--there stands +your lover waiting for you--an empty boat is here to bear you to +him.--O-Katsu-San,--the messenger of the other world bears your little one +upon his broad, warm back.--They are smiling, O-Katsu-San--Obaa-San-- + +[_He points to Riki and Aoyagi. Obaa-San goes to them and lays her hands +upon them._ + +OBAA-SAN + +My little girl!--my little boy!--Today the sun is very bright. + + +_The Curtains Close._ + + + + +THE VERY NAKED BOY + +AN INTERLUDE BEFORE THE CURTAIN + + +CHARACTERS + + SHE + HE + BROTHER + +_The scene is half way to a proposal._ + +_A hallway with a heavily-curtained doorway in the centre. Right of this +are two chairs with a tabouret between them. Right and Left are curtained +arches._ + +_She enters quickly, crossing to the chairs._ + +HE (_following breathlessly and almost colliding with her as she stops_) + +Genevieve! + +SHE (_with a calmness strangely at variance with her entrance_) + +Well? + +HE + +Why did you-- + +SHE + +I didn't. + +HE + +I beg your pardon, you may not have known it, but you did. + +SHE + +I didn't. + +HE + +If you'll only say you didn't mean it. + +SHE + +I didn't _do_ it. + +HE + +Now, Genevieve, you know-- + +SHE + +I didn't. + +HE + +Well, why did you--? + +SHE + +_I didn't do it!_ + +HE (_meltingly but without humor or subtlety_) + +Well, if you didn't do it, _dear_-- + +[_She is adamant._ + +Why did you run away the moment I came up to you? + +SHE + +I didn't run away-- + +[_He looks at her quizzically._ + +I just _came_ out here. + +HE (_hoping it isn't true_) + +But you seemed to be trying to avoid me. + +SHE (_with sphinx-like indifference_) + +Why should I avoid you? + +HE + +Genevieve! You make it impossible for me to talk to you.... I'll apologise +if it will help. + +SHE + +Why should you apologise? + +HE + +Perhaps I've misconstrued your meaning. + +SHE + +I didn't mean _anything_-- + +[_He smiles pleasantly with more hope than discretion._ + +--because I didn't do it. + +HE + +Now, Genevieve, I saw you do it. + +SHE + +You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Gordon, from further discussion. + +[_She seats herself, fully prepared for all the discussion she can force +from him._ + +HE + +But, Genevieve-- + +[_He seats himself._ + +SHE + +I didn't do it--and besides if I _did_ what difference does it make? I'm +free white and twenty-one. + +HE (_with a frail attempt at humor_) + +How old did you say? + +SHE + +I said I was free white. + +HE + +But, Genevieve, you must admit that-- + +SHE + +Mr. Gordon! + +HE + +_Please_ call me Henry. (_In his emotion he pronounces it Hennery_) + +SHE + +I don't see why I should. + +HE + +You did last night. + +SHE + +That was different. You were Dr. Jekyll last night. + +HE + +Oh, Genevieve-- + +SHE + +You're showing your true colors tonight. + +HE (_appealingly_) + +I'm--sorry-- + +SHE + +You're a tyrant. + +HE + +I don't mean to be. I think you're wo-- + +SHE + +Now don't be personal. I'm not interested in your thoughts. + +HE + +But, Genevieve, won't you tell me why you did it? + +SHE + +I did it because--I've told you often enough I _didn't_ do it. + +HE (_bitterly_) + +Joe-- + +SHE + +Joe--what? + +HE + +Joe squeezed your hand. + +SHE + +Well, it's my hand, and besides I don't see why I should be +cross-questioned by you. + +HE + +You know I'm-- + +[_He leans toward her and she moves away._ + +SHE + +You're what? + +HE + +I'm crazy about you. + +SHE + +Please, Mr. Gordon! + +HE + +Call me Henry! Just once. + +SHE + +I don't see why I should. + +HE + +Please, Genevieve. + +SHE + +Now don't be silly! + +HE + +Oh, Genevieve, if you only knew how it hurt me when you did it! + +SHE + +_Did_ it hurt you? + +HE + +I could have killed Joe--gladly. + +SHE + +Honest! + +HE + +You know--you must know! + +SHE + +You certainly are calm about it. + +HE (_in the most absurd position that hopeless love can twist a man into_) + +What can I do? I can't be ridiculous. + +SHE + +Did you really see us? + +HE + +Yes, I saw you. + +SHE + +You seemed terribly tied up with Ethel. + +HE + +I had to sit by her. + +SHE + +I don't see why. + +HE + +I didn't have any place else to go. + +SHE + +I knew you were looking. + +HE + +Then why did you do it? + +SHE + +Don't ask me why. I loathe why. + +HE + +But oh, Genevieve, I love you so! + +[_He grasps her hand, not too violently. She gasps slightly, smiles +pleasantly and becomes stern._ + +SHE (_encouragingly_) + +Please, let go of my hand. + +[_He does so. She looks at him in mingled wonder and chagrin._ + +HE + +Genevieve, isn't there any chance for me? + +SHE + +I've never thought of such a thing. What do you mean! + +HE + +I mean I love you. + +SHE + +... Yes? + +HE (_taking her scarf in his hand_) + +Aren't you interested? + +SHE + +Why, really, Mr. Gordon, you ask such strange questions. + +HE + +Oh, Genevieve--Genevieve-- + +[_He kisses the scarf gently._ + +SHE [_looking at him in wonder, disappointment and delight._ + +Don't be silly. + +HE + +When a man's in love he always does silly things. + +SHE + +Always? + +HE + +Oh, Genevieve-- + +[_He reaches for her hand reverently and this time she seems content to let +matters rest._ + +SHE (_making conversation_) + +I have the next dance with-- + +[_She racks her memory._ + +HE + +Joe, I suppose. + +[_He rises and crosses to the far side of the centre arch._ + +SHE (_drawing her scarf about her and brushing against him as she passes._) + +Excuse me, please. + +HE (_torrentially_) + +You shall not go. You _shall_ listen to me. You have no right to treat me +as a plaything when I love you so! I love you so! I love you so! I think of +you all day long, I lie awake at night wondering what stars are looking +upon you and I find myself envying them--every one of them. + +[_She tries to speak, but he presses her head against his shoulder._ + +I won't listen. You must hear me out. I've waited days and days and days +for this chance to speak to you, and you've trailed me about +like--like--like a poodle. I'm tired of it because I love you so. + +[_She tries to speak again; but succeeds only in mussing her hair._ + +HE + +I want you to marry me, and marry me you shall if I have to carry you away +with me. Oh, Genevieve, my darling Genevieve, just know that for this +moment I am almost completely happy. You are close to me and I do not feel +any struggle against me. Oh, if you will only listen to me, I do not mean +to be brutal. I have torn your dress. I have mussed your precious hair. +But I love you so! I love you so! + +SHE + +Oh, Henry--Henry--You are so wonderful! + +[_They embrace one long moment when an arm comes out between the curtains +and tugs at his coat._ + +_He lets go of her as though he had been shot, turns and sees the naked arm +and the top of the Boy's head._ + +BOY (_whispering_) + +Get her out of here! + +SHE + +Oh, Henry, Henry, have I been cruel to you? + +HE (_constrained_) + +We'd better go. + +SHE (_looks questioningly at him_) + +Please let's stay here. + +[_He presses her head against his breast and looks surreptitiously at the +curtains._ + +_The Boy makes as though to get out._ + +_He starts violently--shoves the Boy back._ + +SHE + +I saw you first--do you remember--at Poughkeepsie. + +HE + +Yes, yes-- + +SHE + +I think--I liked you then.... But I never thought you'd be so wonderful. + +HE + +Let's go (_whispering_). Darling, let's go. + +[Illustration: THE VERY NAKED BOY] + +SHE + +No, I want to stay here. I love this nook. + +[_He laughs nervously as she crosses to the curtains._ + +I should love to fill it full of great tall lilies. + +[_By this time she has become lyric and swept her arms against the +curtains: with a cry, rushing to him for protection._ + +Henry, there's a man behind those curtains! + +HE + +I think we'd better go. + +SHE + +Oh, Henry, you're not going to leave him here. + +HE + +We'd better. + +BOY [_poking his head and a naked arm through the curtains._ + +Yes, you'd better, because I'm going to get out of here. + +SHE + +_Bob!_ You get your clothes on! + +BOY + +I told Mr. Gordon to get my clothes. + +SHE + +Mr. Gordon-- + +BOY + +Call him Henry--just once--please, Genevieve. + +HE (_stiffly_) + +I'll get your clothes. Where are they? + +BOY + +In my room. + +HE + +What do you want? + +BOY + +Everything. + +SHE (_straightening up_) + +Don't be common, Robert. + +[_He starts for the door._ + +HE + +No, I'm not going. + +SHE + +Hen--Mr. Gordon!... Very well. I'll go! + +HE + +No, you won't go either! + +SHE + +Please! + +BOY + +Well, I'll go. + +[_Boy moves as though to part the curtains. She screams a stifled little +scream and both he and she rush to the curtains to hold them together._ + +SHE + +Oh, Bob, if you won't get out I'll do anything for you. + +BOY + +Well, I'm cold. + +SHE + +Mr. Gordon, please go. + +HE + +I won't go! + +SHE + +You are very strange, indeed.... I'll go! + +[_She nears the door--Stops._ + +SHE + +Never mind. + +BOY + +Oh, Henry, it's Ethel. + +HE + +Bob, won't you be a good sport? We'll turn our backs. + +BOY + +But will everybody else turn their back? + +HE + +Old man, can't you see how it is? We're--we're going to be engaged--and +Ethel is out there--and--and--well-- + +BOY + +Joe's out there, too. + +HE + +Well, yes. + +SHE + +Bob, I shall tell Father on you. + +[_She starts._ + +BOY + +All right, go ahead. I'll tell Ethel. + +SHE + +Just wait. + +BOY + +I'll get out of here! + +[_Again the two rush precipitately to hold the Boy in place._ + +HE + +Bob, be a man! You are childish and common. You are old enough to know +better and I think it's an outrage for you to subject your sister to this +fright. We can't go out of here just now--and you're making it very +embarrassing for us. + +SHE + +Mr. Gordon--there's a cape in that closet. Will you get it for Bob.... He +says he's cold. + +[_He goes to the closet._ + +SHE + +Bob, I'll get even with you. You ought to be ashamed. I'm humiliated. + +BOY + +Why--Sis? + +SHE + +Imagine my being with a gentleman and having a very naked boy pop into the +conversation. + +[_He returns with the cape._ + +HE + +Here's the cape. + +[_He tosses it over the Boy's head and suddenly leans over and kisses her._ + +BOY + +Why don't you smother me! + +[_Boy begins to emerge._ + +SHE + +Bob, be careful. + +[_He and She turn away._ + +_The Boy rises and as he does so the cloak falls about him until, when he +steps out of the curtains, he discloses trousers and shoes._ + +BOY + +I can't go through the hall looking like this. + +SHE + +You must. + +HE (_turning_) + +Go away, Bob. Your sister is very nervous. + +[_He sees the boy fairly well clothed. He gasps._ + +HE + +Why-- + +SHE + +Bob-- + +[_Turning she sees the boy fairly well clothed._ + +I thought--How did you--Why didn't you--What were you doing in there? + +BOY + +Father was going to get strict and keep me off the water tonight and just +as I came down here to get my sweater I heard him coming to the coat room +so I jumped behind the curtains and let him pass and then Joe and Ethel +came in and I couldn't let them see me this way. And then somebody else +came and then you came in--well, I got cold. + +HE (_looking out_) + +Run on now, Bob, the hall is clear. + +[_Boy starts._ + +BOY + +What was it you did, Sis? + +SHE + +I didn't do it. + +BOY + +Why didn't you do it? + +SHE + +I didn't do anything. + +BOY + +He said Joe squeezed your hand. + +SHE + +Absurd! + +BOY + +Well, I hope not, because he and Ethel got engaged in here too! + +[_He and She look fondly at each other and He murmurs_, "Genevieve" _as he +reaches out for her_. + +_The Boy begins to sing, "Oh, Genevieve, Sweet Genevieve," and they become +aware of him, turning upon him and pursuing him with a warning cry of_ +"Bob." + + +_The End_ + + + + +JONATHAN MAKES A WISH + +A PLAY IN THREE ACTS + + +CHARACTERS + + AUNT LETITIA + SUSAN SAMPLE + UNCLE NATHANIEL + UNCLE JOHN + JONATHAN + MLLE. PERRAULT + HANK + ALBERT PEET + MARY + JOHN III + + + + +ACT I + +JONATHAN MAKES A FRIEND + + +[_The scene represents the lumber room in the carriage house on John Clay's +suburban estate. The room is crowded with old trunks, paintings, barrels, +boxes, chests, furniture showing long residence during slow epochs of +changing taste. Everything is in good order and carefully labelled. At the +right of the room is a door opening onto the stairs which lead to the +ground floor. A small window is set high in the peak of the gabled end up +centre. At the left a chimney comes through the floor and cuts into the +roof as though it had been added by Victorian standards of taste for +exterior beautification. An open stove intrudes its pipe into the chimney. +The single indication of the life of today having touched the place is the +studied arrangement of an old rosewood square grand piano. The keyboard is +uncovered. On the top is a tiny theatre--a model masked and touched with +mystery, according to early adolescent standards. Two benches stand in +front of the piano, and the piano stool is meticulously set in place. A +flamboyant placard leaning against the music rack announces:_ + + TODAY + + ZENOBIA + + A tragedy in ten acts + by + Alexander Jefferson, Sr. + +_The light in the room is dim, although it is quite bright out of doors. +There are two low windows which are heavily barred. The little theatre is +so arranged that when the manipulator stands on the box to work it, his +head can be seen over the masking._ + + * * * * * + +_The curtain rises disclosing an empty room. Presently laborious steps are +heard on the stairs and a key is turned in the lock. Then Aunt Letitia +enters followed by Susan Sample. Aunt Letitia is a motherly old woman who +has been in the Clay home for many years. She may have preferences, but +like the buildings on the estate, she stays where she is. Susan Sample is a +tall, slender girl of fourteen with a very gentle manner and a way of +looking at people that indicates a receptivity rarely met in one so old. +Letitia goes to one of the trunks marked E R in large white letters and +unlocks it._ + +LETITIA + +Here they are, my dear. Help me with the hasps. + +SUSAN + +What does E. R. really stand for, Mis' Letitia? + +LETITIA + +E. R.... That's a secret, Susan, that little girls aren't supposed to +know. + +SUSAN + +I won't tell. + +LETITIA + +But what good would that do, my sweet? Please open the windows. + +SUSAN (_opening the window and returning to her question_) + +No one would know you told me. + +LETITIA + +I would know. Yes, I would know that I had told somebody else's secret. + +SUSAN + +Whose secret is it? Please. + +LETITIA + +I've been living in this house for thirty-five years, Susan, and I've known +the secrets of all the boys and girls from time to time. + +SUSAN + +You know mine, too. + +LETITIA + +And I've never told one of them, either. + +SUSAN + +Does old Mr. John ever have secrets? + +LETITIA + +_Old_ Mr. John! For shame!... Of course he has secrets. + +SUSAN + +I wish I knew some of his, Mis' Letitia. + +LETITIA + +My dear, you never will know them. John is very quiet. + +SUSAN + +Who in the family didn't have any secrets at all? + +LETITIA + +Oh, they all had secrets when they were young. Nathaniel had _fewer_ than +any of them and... + +[_Her words are lost tenderly in a memory._ + +SUSAN + +Why hasn't he ever come back home? + +LETITIA (_as she busies herself with the contents of the trunk_) + +That is his secret, Susan, and we mustn't ask too many questions. Nathaniel +is coming today. I won't ask any questions.... He was a fine young man. +Yes, he's coming back today, my dear. He was the baby of the family. + +SUSAN + +How old is he now? + +LETITIA + +You little chatterbox! Between you and Jonathan I have to fight to keep +anybody's secrets. + +SUSAN + +Does Jonathan ask many questions? + +LETITIA + +When we're alone he does. He's just like his Uncle Nathaniel. God bless +him! + +SUSAN (_seeing a costume in the trunk_) + +Oh, isn't that just wonderful! + +LETITIA (_holding the costume up for Susan to see_) + +_That_ is what you can wear in the pageant, my dear Susan. + +SUSAN (_taking the costume_) + +Oh! Oh! Oh!... I wish I knew whose it was. + +LETITIA + +Would that make it any prettier? + +SUSAN + +No, but I'd like to know just the same.... Was it E. R.'s? + +[_A cry is heard outside_, "Aunt Letty! Aunt Letty!" + +LETITIA + +Oh, Susan, it's Nathaniel! It's my boy. Here I am, dear. + +[_She has an armful of costumes which she drops nervously._ + +SUSAN + +Mis' Letitia, I believe you love him best of all! + +LETITIA + +No, I don't, but I always understood him, I think. + +[_The voice below calls again_, "Where are you?" + +Come up here, my boy. Come up to the lumber room. + +[_Steps are heard on the stairs, young eager steps, and Nathaniel Clay +bursts into the room. He is an eternally young man of thirty-five, who has +touched the dregs and the heights of the world and remained himself._ + +NATHANIEL [_taking Letitia in his arms, then holding her from him as he +inspects her._ + +Aunt Letty! Not a day older.... But oh, so wise. + +LETITIA + +Nathaniel, my boy, my darling, darling boy. + +NATHANIEL + +Now, now. Don't cry. + +LETITIA + +My boy, my boy. My splendid boy. + +[_Susan has forgotten her costume in her admiration for Nathaniel. She puts +it down on the bench in front of the piano._ + +NATHANIEL + +And this is-- + +LETITIA + +This is Susan Sample. + +NATHANIEL + +Not-- + +LETITIA + +Yes, time has been flying, Nathaniel. This young lady is Mary Sample's +daughter. + +NATHANIEL + +How do you do? I can't believe it. You were only a little pink cherub up +there in the sky when I ran-- + +LETITIA (_hurriedly interrupting him_) + +Yes, Susan was born three years after you went away. + +NATHANIEL + +Oh!... And, Aunt Letitia, you've opened Emily's trunk! + +LETITIA + +Yes, Susan is going to be in a pageant. + +SUSAN + +Who was Emily? + +NATHANIEL + +She was-- + +LETITIA + +Nathaniel dear, you must not satisfy her curiosity. + +(_To Susan_) + +You go find Jonathan, dear, and tell him that his uncle is here. + +(_To Nathaniel_) + +I'll put these things away, and we'll go into the house. + +SUSAN (_reluctantly_) + +Good-bye, Mr. Clay. + +NATHANIEL + +Good-bye, Susan. You'll come back, won't you? + +SUSAN + +Oh, yes. Good-bye. + +NATHANIEL + +Good-bye. + +[_Susan goes out._ + +LETITIA + +She hates to go. She's never seen anyone just like you: and I have only +seen one. + +NATHANIEL + +Who's Jonathan? + +LETITIA + +He's the one.... He's Emily's boy. + +NATHANIEL + +You mean Emily-- + +LETITIA + +No, no, my dear. Emily was married, left the stage. She wasn't happy. The +boy was her only comfort. + +NATHANIEL + +He's my nephew. Why, I'm Uncle Nathaniel. Oh, Aunt Letty, I'm getting to be +an old man! + +LETITIA + +Nathaniel, Jonathan doesn't know about his mother. I sent Susan away +because I didn't want her to associate these things with Jonathan's +mother. + +NATHANIEL + +My God, Emily didn't do anything wrong. + +LETITIA + +Well, she was an actress. + +NATHANIEL + +And a good one, too. + +LETITIA + +Yes, yes, dear. All that has been talked over many times, but John is the +head of the family and he doesn't approve of the stage. + +NATHANIEL + +So! John is still himself. + +LETITIA + +John is austere, Nathaniel. He is a Clay through and through and he holds +to the traditions of the family. + +NATHANIEL + +I remember the traditions, Aunt Letitia. + +LETITIA + +I never oppose John. He feels that he is right. But it _is_ very hard +sometimes to live up to his rules. + +NATHANIEL + +Has he rules? + +LETITIA + +Well, he has ideas, dear--much like your father's. We might call them +rules. + +NATHANIEL + +Where is Emily? + +LETITIA + +Two years ago, Nathaniel. + +[_There is a moment's silence._ + +NATHANIEL + +Did she ever go back to the stage? + +LETITIA + +No. John forbade it. + +NATHANIEL + +And John is still forbidding. + +LETITIA + +John is the head of the family. + +NATHANIEL + +So.... The Clay family is still an absolute monarchy. + +LETITIA + +Nathaniel, dear, will you promise me-- + +NATHANIEL (_with a smile_) + +I'll try. + +LETITIA + +Will you promise not to antagonize John? + +NATHANIEL + +Will John antagonize _me_? I came back to see my home--to see you, my dear +aunt. But I am a grown man now. + +LETITIA + +Won't you try to be patient? It will be pleasanter for me. And I have +waited so long to see you, Nathaniel. There are seventeen very, very long +years for us to talk about. Let John have his way. + +NATHANIEL + +Well, I'll try for a few days. But I give you warning, my ideas have been +settling during the past few years, too. + +LETITIA + +Remember, he is used to being obeyed just as your father was. + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, I remember that, dear Aunt; but John isn't my father. He is just a +brother to whom fate gave a fifteen years' start by birth. + +[_As a voice calls_, "Nathaniel, are you up there?" _Nathaniel looks at +Letitia._ + +NATHANIEL + +His voice is just the same. (_Calling_) Yes, John, I am up here. + +[_The antagonism between the two brothers is apparent immediately._ + +_John Clay enters. He is an austere, pompous man of fifty who has the +softness of the tithe-collector and the hardness of the tax-collector. He +speaks with an adamantine finality which is destined to rude shattering._ + +JOHN + +How do you do, Nathaniel? + +NATHANIEL + +I am very well, I thank you, John. How are you? + +[_They shake hands perfunctorily._ + +JOHN + +You arrived ahead of time. + +NATHANIEL + +Yes. + +JOHN + +We haven't met for seventeen years. + +NATHANIEL + +No. I've been away, John. + +JOHN + +Where have you been? + +NATHANIEL + +I shall be here for two weeks, John, and if I should tell you all about +myself today, I should have nothing to talk about tomorrow. + +JOHN (_severely_) + +You haven't changed, Nathaniel. You are still frivolous. + +NATHANIEL + +I shall be serious when I am your age, brother. + +JOHN + +I came out here to ask you to be very careful of your conversation before +the children. + +NATHANIEL + +The children? + +JOHN + +Yes, my two grandchildren.-- + +NATHANIEL + +Grandchildren! My, that makes me a great uncle. I _am_ getting old, Aunt +Letitia! + +JOHN + +I do not care to have them or Jonathan hear about any revolutionary or +other unusual ideas. + +NATHANIEL + +I shall try not to contaminate the children and Jonathan. How old are the +children? + +JOHN + +Mary is four and John 3rd is two. + +NATHANIEL + +I shall try to spare their sensibilities. + +JOHN + +They may not understand you but they will hear. + +NATHANIEL (_to Letitia_) + +How old is Jonathan? + +LETITIA + +Fourteen. + +NATHANIEL + +The impressionable age. + +JOHN + +The silly age. + +NATHANIEL + +Brother John, no age is the silly age. Fourteen is the age of visions and +enchantments and fears. What a boy of fourteen sees and hears takes on a +value that we cannot underestimate. Most men are defeated in life between +fourteen and twenty. At fourteen a boy begins to make a lens through which +he sees life. He thinks about everything. Ambition is beginning to stir in +him and he begins to know why he likes things, why he wants to do certain +things. He formulates lasting plans for the future and he takes in +impressions that are indelible. Things that seem nothing to old people +become memories to him that affect his whole life. The memory of a smile +may encourage him to surmount all obstacles and the memory of a bitterness +may act as an eternal barrier. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, are you a father? + +NATHANIEL + +No, John, I am only a bachelor who is very much in love with life in +general and one lady in particular. + +JOHN + +You can know nothing of children, then. + +NATHANIEL + +I remember myself. Most men forget their younger selves and that is fatal. + +JOHN + +One would think to hear you talk that the most important things in life +were a boy of fourteen and his moorings. + +NATHANIEL + +One might know it. + +JOHN + +You are still the same impractical theorist. + +NATHANIEL + +I am the same theorist--a little older, a little more travelled. The +trouble with you, John, is that you think no age is important except your +own. You always thought that, even when you were fourteen. Oh, I know I +wasn't born then, but I know you. + +JOHN + +Did you come back to your home in order to lecture me? + +NATHANIEL + +No, no, I beg your pardon. I came back to see my home and Aunt Letitia and +the children--and you, and I--I think--Jonathan. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, when your letter came telling me that you had decided to come +back to see us, I was going to ask you not to come-- + +NATHANIEL + +I gave no address. + +JOHN + +But on second thought, I made up my mind to forgive you-- + +NATHANIEL + +Thank you. + +JOHN + +To let bygones be bygones. + +NATHANIEL + +That is the better way, brother: let the dead past bury its dead. + +JOHN + +Why did you run away from home? + +NATHANIEL + +Because we couldn't agree, John. + +JOHN + +I was older than you; my judgment was mature; I was the head of the family, +in my father's place. + +NATHANIEL + +We didn't speak the same language. I wanted something out of life that you +couldn't understand; that my father couldn't understand. I determined to +get it by myself. + +JOHN + +Well? + +NATHANIEL + +And so, I ran away. + +JOHN + +Leaving no trace, no word. + +NATHANIEL + +Oh, yes, I left a very important word--"Good-bye." + +JOHN + +You were willing to leave all the work of our father's business on my +shoulders. + +NATHANIEL + +You were willing to take it all. And I wanted my freedom. + +JOHN + +You were selfish and heartless. + +NATHANIEL + +Selfish? Because I had my life to live and meant to live it? + +JOHN + +You should have told us where you were living. + +NATHANIEL + +I preferred to work out my salvation alone, without interference. My going +away gave you a free hand. John, don't tell me that you were not overjoyed +that my flight gave you all my father's fortune. + +JOHN + +It was my duty as head of the family to protect you. + +NATHANIEL + +I didn't ask for protection. I wanted understanding. + +JOHN + +A boy of eighteen must not be allowed freedom. + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps not, John, but he must be allowed to grow toward his goal. Eighteen +is not too young for a man to fly through the air in defense of his +country, or you. The burden of the world today is on the shoulders of men +from eighteen to eighty, share and share alike.... I wanted to be a +writer-- + +JOHN + +And our brother Henry wanted to be a musical composer and our sister Emily +wanted to be an actress! A fine putout for the leading commercial family of +this state! + +NATHANIEL + +Well, John, our brother and our sister have paid the final penalty. They +have died. Henry left a handful of worthless little tunes and Emily left a +trunkful of costumes as monuments to their folly. And now Emily's boy is +here under your wing. + +JOHN + +He's a dreamer like all the rest of you. + +NATHANIEL (_with interest; tenderly_) + +Yes? + +JOHN + +He spends all his leisure time playing with that fool toy there. + +[_He points to the model theatre._ + +_Nathaniel smiles and crosses to the piano and lifts the cloth that covers +the theatre; then he looks at the placard and laughs joyously._ + +NATHANIEL + +"Zenobia." " Alexander Jefferson, Sr." + +JOHN + +He pretends that's his name--Alexander Jefferson, Sr! + +NATHANIEL + +People like to have other names. Look at all artists--like writers, +pugilists, and actors, and base ball players. And the Sr. Is an effort to +appear older. + +JOHN + +Well, I'm breaking him of all that nonsense. I allow him only a certain +number of hours for play. Emily used to spoil him and it's been a task to +conquer him. + +NATHANIEL + +Jonathan is fourteen. When I was fourteen--What are Jonathan's tastes? + +JOHN + +He reads all the time and he wants to write plays and poetry; but I am +conquering that silliness. + +NATHANIEL + +I think I am going to like my nephew. John, I'll come into the house +shortly. I think I'll look at this toy a moment and I'll get Aunt Letitia +to show me some of Emily's things. A mere matter of sentiment. + +JOHN + +Now don't put any foolishness into the boy's head. + +NATHANIEL + +I promise you I sha'n't try to change the boy's head, brother. + +JOHN + +I play golf from five to six. + +NATHANIEL + +Oh, you've taken up athletics? + +JOHN + +The doctor's advice. Will you join me? + +NATHANIEL + +Thank you, no. + +JOHN + +Very well. I'll see you at dinner. + +NATHANIEL + +Thank you. (_John goes out. Nathaniel looks musingly at Letitia who has +been sitting silently on Emily's trunk, knitting, Nathaniel crosses to her +and sits on a stool at her feet_) Does John always talk to you so much, +little church mouse? + +LETITIA + +I have been a poor relation for thirty-five years, my boy, and to be a +successful poor relation, one must learn the art of silence. + +NATHANIEL + +No wonder I ran away! + +LETITIA + +But you should have written to me. + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps--I should--yes--I should have written, but I didn't. You see, Aunt +Letty, I was a sensitive boy. All my life I had dreamed of doing my own +work. I saw Henry disappointed in life, I saw Emily made miserable enough +through the traditions of the family. John couldn't understand me and I +couldn't understand him. There was no common meeting-ground. John was the +head of the family and so deeply was the idea of submission to rule +ingrained in me that I could think of only one way out of my restraint. I +wouldn't study engineering, and I wouldn't continue at Somerset School. +Well, I ran away from my ancestral castle to find my way in a new world. I +think I have found it. + +LETITIA + +Jonathan doesn't want to study engineering, either. + +NATHANIEL (_Looks closely at her a moment and then smiles_) + +As Ibsen would say--Ghosts! (_He walks toward the window_) Poor John! + +LETITIA + +Poor Jonathan! + +[_At this moment Jonathan enters the room. He is a slender boy of fourteen +with a deep problem in his eyes. When he smiles before his elders, which is +seldom, he seems always prepared to restrain the smile. His voice is just +changing and this adds to his reticence. He has a tremendous capacity for +expressing wonderment and, as usual with one of his type, he is capable of +great displays of temper. He gives the impression of thinking about +everything he sees. He is at the age of wonder and only custom prevents the +world from becoming the promised land of visions and enchantments._ + +NATHANIEL + +Poor Jonathan! + +[_He turns and sees the boy._ + +_The two stand face to face for a moment. For Nathaniel it is the first +moment of a new relationship. For Jonathan it is a moment of uncertainty. +He has heard himself called "Poor Jonathan" and he is facing another male +relative._ + +_Jonathan looks first at Letitia, then at Nathaniel and then at Letitia._ + +LETITIA + +Jonathan, this is your Uncle Nathaniel. Nathaniel, this is Emily's boy. + +NATHANIEL (_Holds out his hand which Jonathan takes very shyly_) + +Jonathan! + +JONATHAN + +How do you do, sir? + +NATHANIEL + +How tall you are! + +JONATHAN (_quite conscious of his short trousers_) + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +I didn't take you away from any studies, did I? + +JONATHAN + +No, sir.... I was just writing something when Susan called me. + +NATHANIEL + +May I ask what you were writing? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir.... + +[_He swallows._ + +... A play. + +NATHANIEL + +A play! _Zenobia_? + +JONATHAN (_Looks quickly for some indication of laughter in Nathaniel's +eyes_) + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +It's a tragedy, isn't it? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +In ten acts. + +JONATHAN + +There may be only eight. + +NATHANIEL + +Then I know who you are! (_Jonathan looks at him in surprise_) You are the +celebrated dramatist, Alexander Jefferson, Sr. + +JONATHAN + +Did Aunt Letitia tell you? + +NATHANIEL + +No, sir. I read it on the billboards. (_Jonathan laughs with a catch in +his breath_) And I should like to attend a performance, Mr. Jefferson. + +JONATHAN + +It isn't finished yet. + +NATHANIEL + +Well, when am I to see this theatre? + +LETITIA + +Your Uncle Nathaniel and I shall come together. + +JONATHAN + +You've seen all the plays. + +LETITIA + +That doesn't make any difference. I'd like to see them again. + +[_Jonathan looks at her to be sure she is in earnest. Then he smiles._ + +JONATHAN + +I'll finish _Zenobia_ for tomorrow. + +NATHANIEL + +Agreed! Can you get the scenery ready? + +JONATHAN + +I painted it last week. + +LETITIA + +You must have the orchestra, too, Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, ma'am. Susan has some new pieces. + +NATHANIEL + +Is Susan the orchestra? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +What else have you written? + +JONATHAN + +A lot of plays, sir. Mother and I used to write little plays. I don't write +many any more. + +NATHANIEL + +Why not? + +JONATHAN + +I'm getting too big. + +NATHANIEL + +Do you ever write anything beside plays? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +That's splendid. Stories? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir.... And I've written some po--poetry. + +NATHANIEL + +Excellent! + +JONATHAN + +They're not very good, but Susan always wants me to write the poetry for +the music. + +[_Aunt Letitia has repacked the trunk and locked it. She sees that +Nathaniel and Jonathan are getting on famously._ + +LETITIA + +I'll go to the house now and you can talk to Jonathan, Nathaniel. + +[_Jonathan looks appealingly at Letitia, but with a smile she goes +downstairs._ + +_Jonathan and Nathaniel look at each other for an embarrassed minute, then +Jonathan takes refuge at his theatre._ + +NATHANIEL + +May I see some of your plays? + +JONATHAN + +Do you really want to see them? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes. + +[_Jonathan goes to a box on the piano in which there are many manuscripts +carefully bound. He hands one to Nathaniel._ + +JONATHAN + +Here is one that mother and I wrote. She loved the theatre. + +NATHANIEL (_taking the strange-looking little manuscript._ _Reading_:) + +"Robin Hood and His Merry Men." + +JONATHAN + +We used to make all those old stories into plays. + +NATHANIEL + +Do you like to write? + +JONATHAN + +Oh, yes. I wish I could write real plays, but there's no one to help me +now. My mother used to correct them and tell me what was wrong. She knew a +lot about the theatre and she used to tell me all sorts of things. But now +Aunt Letitia doesn't say anything. Sometimes she comes to a show, but she +can't help me. And Uncle John doesn't like the theatre. He thinks I'm too +old to give shows, but I can't help it. There's nothing I like so much. + +NATHANIEL + +May I read this some time? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir.... Would you like to see it played? + +NATHANIEL + +I want to see them all. + +JONATHAN + +Forty-one of them? + +NATHANIEL + +Forty-one of them! Where do you keep them all? + +JONATHAN + +Here in this box. + +[_He shows all the manuscripts._ + +NATHANIEL + +What are the pink ones? + +JONATHAN + +Those are the ones mother liked best and these--(_showing blue ones_) are +the ones I liked best.... I like them all now, but it used to be lots of +fun to choose our favorites. + +NATHANIEL + +What is this one that's different from all the rest? + +JONATHAN + +That's one that mother wrote all by herself. It's best of all. + +NATHANIEL + +You must save these carefully, Jonathan--all your life. + +JONATHAN + +Oh, yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +Some day you may be proud of them. + +JONATHAN + +See--she wrote this, and I wrote this. I was a bad writer, wasn't I? + +NATHANIEL + +What do you want to do, Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +You mean what do I want to be? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes. + +JONATHAN + +I want to write plays. + +NATHANIEL + +Is that all? + +JONATHAN + +Well, I'd like to run a theatre. + +NATHANIEL + +What else? + +JONATHAN + +I'd--you won't tell anyone, will you? + +NATHANIEL + +Of course not. + +JONATHAN + +You see, Uncle John wants me to go to Somerset School to study engineering +and learn the business. + +NATHANIEL + +And you don't want to--Is that it? + +JONATHAN + +I'd rather be a writer. + +NATHANIEL + +They say you can't make any money at writing. + +JONATHAN + +That's what Uncle John says, but I want to just the same. + +NATHANIEL + +If you follow John's advice, you'll be a rich man. + +JONATHAN + +I'd rather be poor. What would you do, Uncle Nathaniel? + +NATHANIEL + +I--why I'd--Oh, come now, Jonathan--you know John is the head of the Clay +family and you and he must decide this question. + +JONATHAN + +Wouldn't you want to be what you want to be? + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps I should. + +JONATHAN + +I don't see how anyone can decide what you want to be--no matter how old he +is. + +NATHANIEL + +Have you ever talked to John? + +JONATHAN + +Oh, yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +What did he say? + +JONATHAN + +He said I had to study engineering or go to work in the factory next fall +for good. + +NATHANIEL + +What do you want to do? + +JONATHAN + +I want to go to a fine prep school and then to college and then-- + +NATHANIEL + +Then what? + +JONATHAN + +I want to be an actor!! + +NATHANIEL + +I see. + +JONATHAN + +Don't tell anybody. + +NATHANIEL + +I won't. That's pretty far from engineering, isn't it? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. But everybody can't be alike. You and Uncle John aren't anything +alike. + +NATHANIEL + +And we're brothers, too. + +JONATHAN + +Do you ever get all mixed up and don't know what to do? + +NATHANIEL + +Oh, yes. I think everybody does. + +JONATHAN + +What do you do then? + +NATHANIEL + +I do something very silly. + +JONATHAN + +Do you do silly things, too? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes. I'm afraid I do. + +JONATHAN + +What do you do when you get all mixed up? + +NATHANIEL + +I'll tell you--it might not work with everybody, you know--but it works +with me. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir! + +NATHANIEL + +My mother used to sing me a song called--"There is a green hill far away." +I always liked that song because it gave me a feeling of contentment and +happiness. I imagined that I could see that hill with its pleasant green +slopes and at its foot lay a little cottage all cool and pleasant and open +to the winds. There were no locks and bolts to keep one out or to keep one +in. I used to imagine that I was climbing that hill to the top of the world +and when I reached the summit I could see-- + +JONATHAN (_enthralled_) + +I know--the whole wide world. + +NATHANIEL + +Its very bigness made me happy in my imagination.... Then when I grew up +and heavy troubles came to me I remembered the Green Hill Far Away and one +day I found such a hill and I climbed it--clear to the top--and there below +me lay the world--the whole wide world--and I told the world something then +and felt the better for it.... Jonathan, there is nothing like a hilltop to +make a man feel worth while. + +JONATHAN + +I know what you mean.... But I always want to jump when I look down from +any place, do you? + +NATHANIEL + +I suppose everybody does. + +JONATHAN + +Uncle John thinks every boy ought to be alike. + +NATHANIEL + +Many schools used to think that way. + +JONATHAN + +But boys don't all think the same. They're different just like men, only +they don't know so much. + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps not. + +JONATHAN + +Uncle John won't let me put on long pants until I'm fifteen. + +NATHANIEL + +He let me put them on when I was fifteen, too. + +JONATHAN + +Were you as tall as I am? + +NATHANIEL + +Just about the same height, but my legs were like pipe stems and I was very +much ashamed. + +JONATHAN + +So am I. + +NATHANIEL + +You'll forget all about it after you're fifteen. + +JONATHAN + +I can talk to you like I used to talk to my mother. + +NATHANIEL + +Thank you. We're going to be fine friends, aren't we? + +JONATHAN + +You bet. Is it silly for me to like to write plays? + +NATHANIEL + +Why do you ask that? + +JONATHAN + +Because Uncle John says it's silly. + +NATHANIEL + +Well, it all depends upon the way you look at it, Jonathan. The world has +never been able to agree as to what is and what is not silly. Mr. Browning, +the poet, might have considered hooks and eyes the silliest things in the +world; but to Mr. de Long, they were, no doubt, the most important things +in the world. Many men agree with Mr. Browning and many ladies agree with +Mr. de Long. + +JONATHAN + +That's what I think. + +NATHANIEL + +You and I probably have many thoughts in common. + +[_Susan and Mlle. Perrault enter. Mlle. Perrault is a Frenchwoman of +exquisite grace and poise. She speaks English fluently, but with a charming +accent and an occasional Gallic phrase larding her pleasant sentences. Her +entrance into the room is electric. She has already won Susan._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Ah, there you are, Mr. Nathaniel Clay. I met la belle Susanne in the +roadway and she told me you were in the lumber room in the carriage house +and I say to her, "We shall track him to his lair." Besides, I want to see +what a lumber room is. + +NATHANIEL + +I was hiding from you. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Villain! And this is Jonathan. How do you do? Susanne tells me you write +poetry and she writes music and she promise me that you will sing for me. + +JONATHAN + +I can't sing. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Ah! Susanne tell me you have a theatre and you write plays and paint +scenery and write poetry and sing songs and she say if I come here to the +lumber room in the carriage house you will play me a tragedy and sing me a +song. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, ma'am. + +NATHANIEL + +Having introduced yourself to everybody, will you tell me, Susan, how Mlle. +Perrault learned so much in such a little time? + +SUSAN + +Well, I was waiting for Jonathan to call me. + +JONATHAN + +Oh, I forgot. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +She was sitting like a little fairy in the grass by the roadway, and I stop +my car and ask for Mr. Nathaniel Clay and she say you are here in the +lumber room in the carriage house and she tell me many things--because we +like each other very, very much and we walk very, very slowly. + +NATHANIEL + +Now! Now that you know all about Miss Susan Sample and Mr. Jonathan--(_He +realizes he doesn't know Jonathan's second name_) I think I shall introduce +you by your pen name, Jonathan--Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr. + +(_To Mlle. Perrault_) + +I am going to let them know about you. This, lady and gentleman, is Mlle. +Marthe Perrault of Paris, France. Mlle. Perrault, may I present my friend +Susan and my nephew Jonathan? + +MLLE. PERRAULT (_falling into the mood_) + +I am very, very pleased to see you again, Miss Sample. It is a great +pleasure to have the honor of meeting you, Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr. I +am looking forward to the première of your great tragedy, _Zenobia_, of +which Miss Sample has been telling me. + +SUSAN (_Puts her arms about Mlle. Perrault and Jonathan is uncertain +whether to be happy or afraid_) + +He wrote lots of others, too. + +JONATHAN + +Forty-one. + +NATHANIEL + +I think I'll tell you two a secret. (_Susan pricks up her ears_) Do you +like secrets? + +SUSAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +And can you keep them? + +SUSAN + +Oh, yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +Well, some day Mlle. Perrault is going to be my wife. + +[_He kisses Mlle. Perrault's hand._ + +_Mlle. Perrault shows her engagement ring._ + +SUSAN + +When? + +NATHANIEL + +Very soon. She is here on some war work and when she and her father go +back to France I shall follow and we shall be married. + +SUSAN + +Ooh-- + +NATHANIEL + +Now you mustn't tell. + +SUSAN + +Honest. + +JONATHAN + +No, sir! + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Now, we have a secret. And you are going to sing me a little song. + +SUSAN + +Come on, Jonathan. Let's do the new one. + +JONATHAN + +Well, I'll try. + +[_He is quite miserable with stage-fright._ + +_Susan sits at the piano and plays a chord. Then Jonathan begins to sing +with much fear in his voice._ + +JONATHAN (_singing_) + + All on a summer's day, + With flowers by the way, + A fair young prince and his purple knight + Found a princess at her play. + So by the crescent moon + He asked a royal boon + And sat him down on a soft green knoll-- + And the night-time came too soon. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Oh, that is just like a little French peasant song! How does it go? +La--la--la--la--la--la. + +[_Susan begins to play it again._ + +_Jonathan sings more surely than before._ + +_Slowly Mlle. Perrault falls into the rhythm and very simply dances a +little peasant dance to Jonathan's and Susan's song. The two youngsters are +in the seventh heaven of delight._ + +So--when one is very happy or very sad, he makes a song and when he's very, +very happy, he dances. And when he is very, very, very unhappy he dies. You +see, _I_ am very, very happy. When do you play _Zenobia_, Mr. Jefferson, +Sr.? + +JONATHAN + +I'll have it ready tomorrow, maybe tonight. + +NATHANIEL + +We shall have a season ticket. But now, I want you to meet my blessed Aunt +Letitia. She hasn't changed one bit in all these years. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +To Aunt Letitia then. Good-bye, Jonathan. Tomorrow is the day of the great +première. + +JONATHAN (_awkwardly_) + +Thanks. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +And la belle petite Susanne, au revoir. + +SUSAN + +I'll walk with you part of the way. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Very well. Marchons, marchons.... + +[_They go out._ + +NATHANIEL (_holding back a little_) + +Good-bye, Mr. Manager. + +[_He goes out calling_ "Marthe." + +_Jonathan is left alone in his joy_. _As he stands, a strange, aimless, +vacuous whistling is heard outside the window an though from one ambling +by. Jonathan hears it unconsciously, moves to put his plays away, +alternately whistling and singing "All on a summer's day."_ + +_Presently the whistling of the strange air is heard as though coming from +downstairs. It stops and a voice calls out_ "Hi!" + +JONATHAN + +Who is it? + +VOICE + +It's me. + +JONATHAN + +What do you want? + +[_By this time the Voice has become a person in the shape of Hank, one of +the scum of creation who asks nothing of life and gives nothing. He was +born of woman and he grew into man's form, but one looking at him wonders +how he survived dirt and the mere effort of breathing. He is stoutish with +no marked coloring unless it be a cross between khaki and field-gray. +Weather and time have conspired to render him inconspicuous. When he speaks +his voice is produced with a careful effort to conserve energy. When he +walks it seems to be a movement in answer to prayer rather than a physical +fact._ + +HANK + +Say-- + +JONATHAN + +How'd you get in here? + +HANK + +Well, it's this way, you see. The gate was open out there and this looked +pretty fine to me so I come in. + +JONATHAN + +You'd better go away before my uncle sees you. + +HANK + +Look here, young feller, I ain't goin' a-do no harm. + +JONATHAN + +Well, he doesn't allow strangers on the place. + +HANK + +I jus' come in to ask if I could sleep somewhere around here if I worked +for my sleep and grub. + +JONATHAN + +No, he won't let you. + +HANK + +How do you know he won't? + +JONATHAN + +'Cause it's a rule. + +[_Hank whistles a snatch of the strange air and sits down._ + +HANK + +Where's your pa? + +JONATHAN + +He's dead. + +HANK + +Long? + +JONATHAN + +Ten years ago. + +HANK + +How old are you? + +JONATHAN + +Fourteen. + +HANK + +Your pa died when you were four. So did mine. + +JONATHAN + +Did you ever have an uncle? + +HANK + +How many you got? + +JONATHAN + +I got two living and one dead. + +HANK + +All three of mine's dead. + +[_He whistles a snatch of the strange air and takes a chew of tobacco._ + +Where's your ma? + +JONATHAN (_Is about to become impatient, but an innate tolerance causes him +to answer_) + +She died when I was twelve. + +HANK + +So did mine. (_Whistles_) We're alike in lots of ways, ain't we? + +JONATHAN + +What did you do when your mother died? + +HANK + +I felt pretty sorry. + +JONATHAN + +Did your brothers and sisters help you any? + +HANK + +Have you any brothers and sisters? + +JONATHAN + +No-- + +HANK + +Me neither. (_Whistles casually_) No one took no notice of me. + +JONATHAN + +What'd you do? + +HANK + +I went away. + +JONATHAN + +Why didn't you try to work? + +HANK + +Couldn't find nothing suitable. 'T first I felt sort o' worried an' then I +kep' walkin' on and I seen so much trouble where I went I says to myself, +"Hank, you're lucky," I says. "You ain't got no fam'ly to bother you an' +you ain't got nothing to worry you an' you don't have to get no place in +partic'lar and you don't have to stay no place." A man wot's got a wife's +all the time worrying about her health or her money spendin' or her gaddin' +or her naggin'. An' a man w'ots got a fam'ly's always wondering where +they'll end. An' a man's wot's got a home's all time worrying about keepin' +it locked up. I bet the poor nut wot owns this place can't breathe easy for +bein' scared things'll be took or burnt up. W'y you--look at +you--(_Whistles_) You're wishin' I'd go 'cause you're 'fraid I'll take +somethin'. I won't take nothin', young feller, 'cause I don't need nothin' +now and I won't need nothin' till it's cold again--and then I'll git an +overcoat maybe. It's too much trouble takin' things--'cause you have to +carry 'em. (_Whistles_) You goin' to let me sleep here some place? + +JONATHAN + +I can't. My uncle would drive you away. Maybe he'd have you arrested. + +HANK + +I ain't done nothin'. I ain't hurtin' nobody. + +JONATHAN + +Well, he doesn't allow strangers around. + +HANK (_Whistles. At the window_) + +That's where I went by jus' now. + +JONATHAN + +I heard you whistling. + +HANK + +That's a tune I made up once. (_Whistles_) + +JONATHAN + +Do you make up tunes? + +HANK + +That's the only one I ever done. It comes in handy and it don't hurt no +one. + +[_Jonathan unconsciously tries to whistle a phrase of the tune._ + +HANK + +No, that ain't it. It's this way. + +[_Whistles._ + +_Jonathan tries it again and fails._ + +No. Here. + +_Jonathan makes it this time._ + +HANK + +That's it. Say, what you got these bars for? It's like jail. Are they +afraid you'll jump out on them rocks? + +JONATHAN + +No, I guess not. There isn't much danger of my wanting to jump out. + +HANK + +You never can tell for sure, young feller. + +JONATHAN + +It's to keep people from climbing in. + +HANK + +There ain't no bars over that one. (_Pointing to gable window_) + +JONATHAN + +That's too high. + +HANK + +It'd be like fallin' off the top of a house, wouldn't it? + +[_Whistles._ + +_Jonathan whistles "All on a Summer's Day."_ + +HANK + +What you got there? + +JONATHAN + +That's my theatre. + +HANK + +A show? + +JONATHAN + +Yes. + +HANK + +How does it work? + +JONATHAN + +These are the actors. + +HANK + +What's the string fer? + +JONATHAN + +You put him in a groove and pull him. + +HANK + +Lemme see it. + +JONATHAN + +All right. I'll show you a scene from the play I'm going to play for my +Uncle Nathaniel tomorrow. + +HANK + +Fire away. + +[_Jonathan lights the lamps that are back of the screen and pulls the +blinds or some cover over the barred windows._ + +HANK + +I wouldn't have all this junk if you'd give it to me. No, sir, when I move +I carry my house with me and there ain't much o' that now. (_Indicates his +clothes_) + +JONATHAN + +All ready. Now you sit there. + +[_Places Hank on the bench._ + +_He goes behind the screen and taps some bells._ + +HANK + +What's that fer? + +JONATHAN + +That's to get ready. + +HANK + +Well, I'm ready. + +[_Jonathan opens the curtain and discloses a scene from Zenobia._ + +That's beautiful. It's just like real. + +[_Jonathan pulls a figure across the stage._ + +Hello, old man. That's the one I jus' seen. Where's the string? + +[_Jonathan lifts the string._ + +JONATHAN + +Here it is. + +HANK + +Now where's that feller goin' to? + +JONATHAN (_coming out from behind the screen_) + +Well, you see, _Zenobia_-- + +HANK + +_Zenob_--God, what a name! + +JONATHAN + +They used to have names like that. + +HANK + +How d' you do it? + +JONATHAN + +Look, I'll show you a little. + +[_He goes behind the screen and closes the curtain._ + +HANK + +What you doin' that for? I like to see that picture. + +JONATHAN + +I'm going to show you how I do it. + +[_Jonathan rings the bells._ + +HANK + +All right. I'm ready. Let her go. + +[_Jonathan opens the curtain and pulls a character on, then another._ + +JONATHAN (_in assumed voice_) + + "Hail, noble duke." + "All is well, I ween." + +HANK + +Say, are they talkin' to each other? + +JONATHAN + +Yes. + +HANK + +Which is the noble duke? + +JONATHAN (_pulling a string_) + +This one. + +HANK. + +And the other one's name is Iween, ain't it? + +JONATHAN + +No, his name is Rollo. + +[Illustration: JONATHAN MAKES A WISH + +ACT I.] + +HANK + +All right, fire ahead. I guess you know what you're doing. + +JONATHAN (_in assumed voice_) + +"Hail, noble duke." + +"All is well, I ween." + +"Not very well, noble duke." + +"What is wrong?" + +"Queen Zenobia is very mad, noble duke." + +"What is she mad about, Rollo?" + +[_Uncle John enters suddenly._ + +JOHN + +Jonathan-- + +[_He sees Hank._ + +What does this mean? + +HANK + +I'm seein' a show. + +JOHN + +You get out of here this instant. + +HANK + +I ain't hurtin' nothin', mister, but I'll git out if you say so. + +JOHN + +What do you mean by this, Jonathan? + +HANK + +I'll git out. Thank you fer the show, boy. + +[_He goes out whistling._ + +_John crosses to the door._ + +JOHN (_calling after Hank_) + +Come on, get out of here quickly. + +HANK (_off_) + +I'm out, mister. + +JOHN + +Now, Jonathan, what do you mean by bringing such people into this place? + +JONATHAN + +I didn't bring him in. He came up while I was working. + +JOHN + +Do you call that silly stuff _working_? + +JONATHAN + +I was getting it ready for Uncle Nathaniel. + +JOHN + +He's been putting that nonsense in your head, has he? + +JONATHAN + +He asked me to let him see all my plays. + +JOHN + +I suppose he told you to ask that dirty tramp in here. + +JONATHAN + +No, sir. He didn't see the tramp. + +[_Hank is heard whistling._ + +_John crosses to one of the windows and opens it._ + +JOHN (_calling_) + +You get away from there. Move on. + +HANK'S VOICE + +I guess the roadside's free, mister. + +JOHN + +We'll see about that. + +[_Hank whistles._ + +JOHN + +Jonathan, I won't have you waste your time on this stuff. I've been pretty +lenient with you and I've allowed you to keep your toys because Emily +spoiled you; but you're too big for such things and I'm going to put my +foot down right now. I'm not going to have this silly stuff around. + +JONATHAN + +Uncle Nathaniel doesn't think it's silly. + +JOHN + +I'll decide what is and is not good for you. + +JONATHAN + +The same thing isn't good for everybody. + +JOHN + +Don't talk back to me, young man. + +JONATHAN + +I've got a right to think. + +JOHN + +Jonathan! + +JONATHAN + +If my mother was living, she wouldn't call everything I like to do silly. + +JOHN + +Your mother didn't know what was good for you. + +JONATHAN + +My mother was the best woman in the world. + +JOHN + +That will do, Jonathan. Your mother was my sister and I am not saying +anything against her. But I do say that stuff must go. + +[_He starts for the door._ + +JONATHAN + +If this theatre goes, I go, too. I'm not-- + +[_John walks over to the theatre and sweeps the whole structure onto the +floor._ + +JOHN + +Now. + +JONATHAN + +You dirty coward, you-- + +[_John turns upon the boy and strikes him across the face._ + +_In mingled rage and humiliation Jonathan sobs wildly once or twice, then +controls himself and glares violently at his uncle._ + +JOHN + +I'll let you think about it. I'll leave you here with your toys like a +girl-baby. + +[_He goes out the door, closing it and turning the key in the lock._ + +_Jonathan runs to the door._ + +JONATHAN + +You let me out of here! You let me out of here! + +[_He pounds the door with his fists._ + +_Then he turns in despair and humiliation._ + +_He paces the floor a moment, not knowing what to do. Suddenly Hank's +whistle is heard. The boy listens as though fascinated and goes to the +window and watches Hank. Jonathan goes to his wrecked theatre and, taking +it up, piles his manuscripts, the pink and the blue, on it. He hesitates to +include one in the pile, offering once or twice to put it in his pocket, +but he finally places it in grim determination with the others. Then he +takes it off and stuffs it in his pocket. He stuffs the pile in the stove +and sets a match to it, watches it a moment, then writes on a piece of +paper, fastens it to the door. Then he finds a piece of rope on a packing +case, moves the ladder under the gable window, fastens the rope to a peg +in the wall, climbs the ladder, considers a moment, returns to the stove +with the beloved manuscript, stuffs it in the fire, remounts the ladder and +lets his weight onto the rope. As he disappears from view, the rope breaks +and a cry and sound of falling are heard._ + +_The flames from the burning theatre and manuscripts flicker against the +wall for a silent moment._ + +_The key is heard to turn in the lock and John and Nathaniel enter._ + +JOHN + +Jonathan! + +NATHANIEL + +He's hiding. + +JOHN + +Jonathan! + +NATHANIEL (_Sees paper on door_) + +What's this? + +JOHN + +What does it say? + +NATHANIEL + +"Good-bye!... Jonathan." + +JOHN (_Looks suspiciously at Nathaniel_) + +Did you tell the silly boy about your running away? + +NATHANIEL + +I told Jonathan nothing about myself. You are the head of the Clay family +and out of custom I respected your position; but, by God, John, you're a +failure with this boy. + +JOHN + +He-- + +[_Hank enters carrying Jonathan in his arms. Jonathan is limp and pitiful. +His clothes are torn. He is moaning pitifully._ + +HANK + +He fell on the rocks out there. + +NATHANIEL + +Put him over here. + +[_Hank places Jonathan on the bench near the piano. Nathaniel places the +costume, which Susan left there, under his head for a pillow._ + +JOHN + +What was he doing? + +HANK + +He was-- + +NATHANIEL + +This is no time for questions, John. Call a doctor. + +[_Jonathan moans and rolls his head, looking vacantly at Hank now and +then._ + +JONATHAN (_moaning_) + +Good-bye.... Jonathan. + +JOHN + +We'd better take him in the house. + +JONATHAN + +My mother was the best woman-- + +NATHANIEL + +He'd better stay here until the doctor comes. + +[_John exits._ + +JONATHAN + +All on a summer's day-- + +[_All the time Nathaniel has been passing his hands over Jonathan._ + +HANK + +He's out of his head, ain't he? + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps, but sometimes one's heart speaks in a delirium. + +HANK + +He acts like his back's broke. + +NATHANIEL + +My God--his back! + +[_Touches the boy's back._ + +_Jonathan winces with pain._ + +JONATHAN + +My back's broken, Hank. + +HANK + +Listen, he's saying my name. We wuz pals, sure nuff. + +JONATHAN + +My back's broken, Hank. + + +_Curtain._ + + + + +ACT II + + Six years have elapsed since Act I as years elapse in a + boy's imaginings. + + Throughout this act the characters are disclosed + without reason as in a dream; and the movement of the + act represents four terrors of a delirium--anxious + effort to make oneself known, a feeling of fetters, + climbing and a sudden fall. + +JONATHAN BUILDS A FEAR + + +[_Before the curtain rises the voices of Jonathan, Hank, Nathaniel and John +are heard, muffled and far away._ + +HANK + +He fell on the rocks out there. + +NATHANIEL + +Put him over here. + +JOHN + +What was he doing? + +HANK + +He was-- + +NATHANIEL + +This is no time for questions, John. Call a doctor. + +JONATHAN + +Good-bye.... Jonathan. + +JOHN + +We'd better take him in the house. + +JONATHAN + +My mother was the best woman-- + +NATHANIEL + +He'd better stay here until the doctor comes. + +JONATHAN + +All on a summer's day-- + +HANK + +He's out of his head, ain't he? + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps, but sometimes one's heart speaks in a delirium. + +HANK + +He acts like his back's broke. + +NATHANIEL + +My God--his back! + +JONATHAN + +My back's broken, Hank. + +HANK + +Listen, he's saying my name. We wuz pals, sure nuff. + +JONATHAN + +My back's broken, Hank. + +[_The curtain has risen unnoticed._ + +_A faint light that grows steadily brighter as light does when one comes +out of a swoon discloses Jonathan and Hank seated on a log at the left of +the stage, where the bench had been. Jonathan seems much older, and he is +crooked and dirty and unkempt, and Hank is somewhat brutalised, less +negative._ + +JONATHAN + +My back's broken, Hank. + +[_Hank looks at him._ + +Tired? + +HANK + +Sure.... + +JONATHAN + +I think Uncle Nathaniel would help me if he saw me. + +HANK + +He couldn't do nothin' for you. You can't straighten a crooked back.... + +JONATHAN + +Hank, I'm tired of this and I'm going back. + +HANK + +Going back where? + +JONATHAN + +I'm going back home. + +HANK + +Your Uncle John won't let you in. + +JONATHAN + +Uncle Nathaniel will take me in. + +HANK + +He ain't there no more and besides he won't know you. + +JONATHAN + +Honest--don't you think he would? + +HANK + +Sure, he wouldn't. + +JONATHAN + +I wish I hadn't run away. + +HANK + +If you don't quit wishing I'll run away from you. + +JONATHAN + +You wouldn't leave me, would you, Hank? + +HANK + +Sure, I'd leave you.... What do you think I am--a wishing stone?... I want +peace, I do.... An' your wishing's disturbing my peace.... Every day fer +six years you squeal about what you done.... Your Uncle John swatted you +and you burned your theatre things and jumped out o' the window and broke +your back and I saved you.... + +JONATHAN + +I can't do anything with a broken back! + +HANK + +What do you want to do anything for? + +JONATHAN + +Sometimes I'd like to write a little. + +HANK + +Go ahead.... I'll wait for you. + +JONATHAN + +And I'd like to give a show. You know, Hank, I used to want to be an +actor.... + +HANK + +Sure, all kids want to be actors or go in a circus or do something where a +lot o' people are lookin' on. + +JONATHAN + +But I can't be an actor now, because nobody'd want to look at me. + +HANK + +You act like that hump's ruined your life, when all you got to do's crouch +over a little more and look sad and you can get anything you want. Why, +it's money in your pocket, that's what that hump is; it's money in your +pocket. + +[_He closes the conversation by whistling._ + +Say, go on over to that house and get us something to eat. + +[_Jonathan prepares for the quest and Hank rolls over to go to sleep._ + +_As Jonathan crosses, lights disclose a hill with pleasant green slopes. At +its foot stands a little cottage, all cool and pleasant with great glass +doors. There are no locks and bolts to keep one out or to keep one in. A +high plaster and brick wall flanks the cottage._ + +_As Jonathan nears the cottage he meets Uncle John, whose austerity is more +apparent than ever._ + +_Jonathan cowers a moment, then attempts to smile._ + +JONATHAN + +Hank said you'd turn me away if I came back. + +JOHN + +Were you talking to me, boy? + +JONATHAN + +I'm so sorry I ran away, Uncle John. + +JOHN + +Uncle John? + +JONATHAN + +Don't you know me, Sir? + +JOHN + +Indeed I do not. + +JONATHAN + +I'm Jonathan-- + +JOHN + +Jonathan! My nephew Jonathan?--Ha! Ha! + +JONATHAN + +Don't you remember I didn't want to study engineering--I didn't want to go +to Somerset School? + +JOHN + +Where is Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +I'm Jonathan, sir. You remember I jumped out of the window and I tried to +run away. + +JOHN + +You seem to know a lot about it. Where is Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +I tell you I am Jonathan.... Don't you remember you struck me--You struck +me across the face--that's what made me run away. + +JOHN + +I should have whipped him and put him to bed. + +JONATHAN + +I would have run away just the same, Uncle John. + +JOHN + +Don't call me Uncle John! + +JONATHAN + +But you are my Uncle John. + +JOHN + +I ask you where _is_ Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +Would you like to see him? + +JOHN + +I should like to know what has become of him. + +JONATHAN + +Would you let him come back home? + +JOHN + +No. When he ran away, I cast him out forever. + +JONATHAN + +Couldn't you forgive him if he was very, very sorry for what he had +done?... Couldn't you forgive me, sir?... I am Jonathan. Honest I am +Jonathan. + +JOHN + +Don't try to deceive me. Jonathan was impudent as you are; but he was a +Clay: he was straight and fine. + +JONATHAN + +But I broke my back. + +JOHN + +Tell me where Jonathan is, you imposter. + +[_He takes Jonathan by the arm and twists it brutally._ + +Tell me.... Tell me. + +JONATHAN + +I don't know.... Let me go.... I'm _not_ Jonathan. + +JOHN + +Tell me.... + +JONATHAN (_in desperation_) + +He's dead. + +JOHN + +What! + +JONATHAN + +He's dead. He died somewhere. + +JOHN + +And so you tried to palm yourself off as Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +I'm sorry. + +JOHN + +Don't you know you can't make your way with lies? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +JOHN + +You ought to be whipped, but I suppose you don't know any better. I should +have you arrested for vagrancy. + +[_Jonathan winces._ + +But I won't. I pity you, you dirty little beggar. + +[_He starts to walk._ + +You ought to wash your hands and face at least. + +JONATHAN + +Please, sir--one minute.... How are Mary and John third? + +JOHN + +Mary is ten--a big girl--and John third is eight--a strapping boy who will +be a great help to me. + +JONATHAN + +And--how is Aunt Letitia? + +JOHN + +My aunt died of a broken heart. + +JONATHAN + +A broken heart? + +JOHN + +Because Jonathan ran away. + +[_Jonathan buries his face in his arms._ + +There! Don't cry for someone you've never seen.... Here, here, take this-- + +[_He presses a coin into Jonathan's hand and goes out._ + +_Jonathan looks at the coin, then after John, and seems to close his heart. +He crosses to the sleeping Hank._ + +JONATHAN + +Here, Hank. + +HANK (_taking the coin_) + +What'd he say? + +JONATHAN + +He didn't know me. + +HANK + +I guess you're not going back home now! + +JONATHAN + +No, I haven't any home. + +HANK + +Then quit your snifflin' an' go on over to that house. + +JONATHAN + +All right, Hank. + +[_Hank curls up and goes to sleep again._ + +_Jonathan crosses to the cottage and finally summons the courage to knock +on the door. As he does so the lights within grow bright and disclose a +lovely little room with a beautiful piano in the centre. In a moment a +young woman appears and opens the doors. It is Susan Sample. She is +charmingly older; but she is dressed almost as she was in the old lumber +room._ + +JONATHAN + +Please, Miss--why-- + +SUSAN + +What do you want? + +JONATHAN + +I--don't you know me? + +SUSAN + +No, I don't know you, little boy. What do you want? + +JONATHAN + +I--don't you really know me? + +SUSAN + +I've never seen you before. + +JONATHAN + +I know you.... You're Susan Sample. + +SUSAN + +Who told you? + +JONATHAN + +I'm-- (_He becomes conscious of his back_) Why Jonathan told me. + +SUSAN + +Have you seen Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +Yes. + +SUSAN + +Where is he? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know. + +SUSAN + +He ran away. Why doesn't he come home? + +JONATHAN + +Because--oh, I don't know. + +SUSAN + +Who are you? + +JONATHAN + +I'm a vagrant. + +SUSAN + +Are you hungry? + +JONATHAN (_looking toward Hank_) + +No. I'm not.... I'm not begging.... But will you do something for me? + +SUSAN + +Yes, if I can. + +[Illustration: JONATHAN MAKES A WISH + +ACT II.] + +JONATHAN + +Will you play for me? + +SUSAN + +Oh, yes.... What shall I play? + +JONATHAN + +Anything. + +[_Jonathan notices his dirty hands._ + +Excuse me a moment. + +[_He goes to a bird-bath and washes his hands, wipes them and returns to +the piano._ + +_Susan plays a bit of a nocturne with ease and grace._ + +JONATHAN + +Do you remember this? + +[_He hums "All on a Summer Day."_ + +SUSAN + +Oh, yes. + +[_She plays the tune in a sophisticated musical way, but Jonathan is +disappointed._ + +SUSAN + +You don't like it? + +JONATHAN + +That isn't exactly the way it goes. + +SUSAN + +Oh, yes, it is. + +[_She plays it once more and sings it._ + +JONATHAN + +No--no--no. It ought to go this way. + +[_He sings it as he had sung it years before._ + +SUSAN + +You sing that just as Jonathan used to sing it. + +JONATHAN + +I like it that way. + +SUSAN + +Did Jonathan teach it to you? + +JONATHAN + +Yes.... A long time ago. + +SUSAN + +Did he tell you-- + +JONATHAN + +About the lovely lady who danced to the tune? Oh, she was wonderful! + +SUSAN + +Jonathan ran away--and he never wrote to me or thought of me. + +JONATHAN + +He thought of you and he talked of you and he sang of you. + +SUSAN + +No.... I can't believe that. + +JONATHAN + +Jonathan loves you very much. + +SUSAN + +If a man loves a woman very much he can't go away from her for years and +years. + +JONATHAN + +Suppose Jonathan had pride and was ashamed to let you know that he had +failed. + +SUSAN + +Jonathan wouldn't fail. I know Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +He--Susan Sample! + +[_Susan plays softly. She is lovely in the sunlight which is lengthening +across the lawn._ + +[_Jonathan watches her quietly. The love of the boy fans into flame and he +reaches out to her, then in the consciousness of his deformity he turns +away._ + +SUSAN + +Will you tell me where Jonathan was when you last saw him? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know--The last time I saw Jonathan--he was tall and straight--and +making his way. + +SUSAN + +Oh, well. + +[_Albert Peet enters. He is a little man of immaculate appearance and great +preciseness._ + +ALBERT + +Ah, Susan. + +SUSAN + +Albert, you are late. + +ALBERT + +Who is this? + +SUSAN + +This is a friend of Jonathan's. + +ALBERT + +Jonathan who? + +SUSAN + +Don't you remember Jonathan who had the toy theatre? He ran away from home. + +ALBERT + +Oh... and this is his friend? How do you do? + +SUSAN + +Do you remember this? I used to play it for you. + +[_She begins "All on a Summer's Day."_ + +Jonathan and I made it up. + +ALBERT (_laughing_) + +Oh, yes. + +SUSAN (_to Jonathan_) + +Come on and sing it. + +[_Jonathan is not sure of the status of Albert Peet._ + +[_Susan plays and she and Jonathan sing with great feeling._ + +ALBERT [_looking at his watch_ + +Well, all this is very pleasant indeed, but we'll have to go, Susan dear. + +[_At the "Susan, dear" Jonathan turns quickly and sees the two holding +hands. Susan holds up her left hand and shows an engagement ring on it. +Jonathan is utterly crushed._ + +JONATHAN + +I think I'd better say good-bye. + +[_He takes up his cap._ + +SUSAN + +Good-bye. If you see Jonathan, tell him I'm going to marry Albert Peet. +He'll know. + +ALBERT + +Good-bye. + +[_Albert and Susan walk off happily in the sunshine._ + +_Jonathan looks after them._ + +_Mlle. Perrault enters followed by Mary and John 3rd. Mlle. Perrault's +dress is almost like the one she had worn when she first met Jonathan in +the lumber-room, except that the colors are reversed and more brilliant. +Mary is a lovely little yellow-haired child of ten and John 3rd is a +stoical matter-of-fact boy of eight. The two children are evidently very +fond of Mlle. Perrault, as fond as Jonathan and Susan had seemed. If the +children seem thoughtless and cruel, it is because they are children and +life has not yet laid a hard hand upon them. The sun rays are very low +against the wall now so that anyone walking near it will cast a very heavy +shadow._ + +MARY + +John, look--he's a hunchback. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +'Sh! Children. + +[_The children whisper._ + +_Jonathan turns and seeing Mlle. Perrault smiles._ + +How do you do, little man. + +JONATHAN + +I am well, I thank you. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +What are you doing here? + +JONATHAN + +I am with Hank. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Hank? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, Hank's my pal. There he is--asleep. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Oh, what a dreadful person.... Children, don't go near him. + +JONATHAN + +He's not so bad. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +But he is a vagrant--a tramp. Why does he do nothing? + +JONATHAN + +He's happier that way. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Are you his son? + +JONATHAN + +Oh, no. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Where is your mother? + +JONATHAN + +My mother's dead. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Where did she live? + +JONATHAN (_Looks for a trace of recognition_) + +I'd better not tell you. + +MARY + +Oh, please tell us. + +JONATHAN + +I'd better not. + +MARY + +You ask him, John. + +JOHN III + +Uh-uh! + +MARY + +Why not? + +JOHN III + +I don't want to know. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Why don't you want to tell _us_? We won't tell anybody. + +JONATHAN + +Nobody'll believe me. + +MARY + +Why? + +JONATHAN + +You see, I ran away from home-- + +JOHN III + +When you run away from home, you're no good. + +MARY + +Now, John, that isn't always so. + +JOHN III + +It is. + +MARY + +It isn't. Goldilocks and the Babes in the Wood and the Marquis of Carabas +were all good, and they ran away from home. + +JOHN III + +But they had bad homes. + +MARY + +Was your home bad? + +JONATHAN + +I thought it was. + +JOHN III + +You thought it was. But was it? + +JONATHAN + +No. + +JOHN III + +Then you're no good. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Oh, John. + +JOHN III + +No, he isn't. Grandfather said nobody who ran away from home was any good! + +MARY + +Why did you run away from home? + +JONATHAN + +I mustn't tell. + +MARY + +Oh, you won't tell anything! + +JOHN III (_pointing to Hank_) + +What did you say _he_ was, Ma'mselle? + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +He is a vagrant-- + +MARY AND JOHN III + +What's a vagrant? + +MARY + +Ooh-- + +[_Puts up her hand to make a wish._ + +JOHN III + +Aw, I'm not going to make a wish. Grandfather'll get it for me anyway if I +want it. + +MARY + +Now, John Clay III-- + +[_Jonathan looks up quickly._ + +You always spoil things. + +JONATHAN + +Is that Mary Clay and John Clay? + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Yes. + +JONATHAN + +They don't remember Jonathan, do they? + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +You mean Jonathan who ran away? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, ma'am. + +MARY + +Who's Jonathan? + +JOHN III + +He's David's friend. I know that. And he was very good. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +What do you know about Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +I knew him once-- + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +He was a splendid little man! He could make such lovely songs. + +JONATHAN + +Do you remember the one he and Susan Sample made up? + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Let's see--how did it go? + +[_Hums a little--tries several folk tunes. The children edge up to Jonathan +during this and manage to touch his back several times, each keeping count. +Jonathan smiles at them, thinking it's attention._ + +JONATHAN + +No, it went this way. + +[_He sings a little of the song and Mlle. Perrault joins him. As he stops +singing she switches the time to waltz time and begins to sway to it. The +music is taken up as by a dream-orchestra and Mlle. Perrault dances a very +lovely little waltz._ + +JOHN III + +Oh, look at your shadow! + +[_Mlle. Perrault turns and sees her shadow on the wall._ + +I can make a bigger one than that. + +MARY + +Oh, come on, ma'mselle, let's all make shadows. + +[_The three of them stand in front of the wall._ + +JOHN III + +Boy, you come, too. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Come, boy. + +[_Jonathan joins them standing so that his deformity doesn't show in the +shadow._ + +Now, let's dance--Give me your hand--so. + +[_The four dance, while Mlle. Perrault hums "All on a Summer's Day." They +are having a very good time when Susan and Albert enter._ + +_Jonathan is a little conscious of Susan and Albert, and he manages to make +several awkward moves._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Now, let's make everybody's shadow dance by itself. + +MARY + +Oh, come on. + +JOHN III + +You first, Mlle. + +MARY + +It's your turn, Mlle. + +[_Mlle. Perrault stands before the wall and makes a very lovely shadow._ + +John, you do it now. + +JOHN III + +I won't. I'm going to be next to last.... He's going to be last. + +[_Mary makes a pretty "statue."_ + +MARY + +Now, John-- + +[_John III, holding a staff, stands bow-legged and pigeon-toed._ + +_All of them laugh._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT (_to John III_) + +You little Jackanapes! You! + +JOHN III (_to Jonathan_) + +You can't do that. + +[_Jonathan, still conscious of Susan, but more in the spirit of the game +nevertheless, laughs almost gleefully._ + +JONATHAN + +You just wait. + +[_He stands in front of the wall and does some comical movements with his +feet and legs, then he turns in such a way that for the first time the +shadow of his hump is thrown into a pitiful distortion on the wall. He +doesn't see it at first, for he is lost in the game with the children._ + +JOHN III (_yelling suddenly_) + +Oh, look! + +[_The children laugh immoderately, and Jonathan turns his head quickly, but +in so doing alters the shadow. He smiles joyfully and then once more falls +into the distorted picture._ + +MARY + +Ooh-- + +JOHN III + +That's funnier than mine. + +[_Jonathan turns his head this time and sees the full horror of the thing._ + +_Mlle. Perrault and Susan have realized too late to protect Jonathan._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +John! Mary! Tell the little boy good-bye. We must go. + +[_Jonathan looks toward Susan and Albert. There is pity in Susan's eyes +and a smile in Albert's._ + +SUSAN + +Albert, come--let's go! + +[_They pass into the house._ + +JOHN III [_Almost as Susan speaks._ + +Wasn't he funniest of all! + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Now, run along, children. Run along. + +MARY + +Look, I can make a hump-back. + +JOHN III + +So can I. + +MARY + +Not a good one! + +JOHN III + +You can't touch mine. + +[_He smacks Mary on the back and runs off, Mary following him._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Little man, I'm very sorry. You mustn't let them hurt you. They are only +children. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, ma'am.... Thank you. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +May I do something for you? + +JONATHAN + +No, ma'am... if you please... I must go to Hank. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Here, take this-- + +[_She offers a coin._ + +JONATHAN + +Oh, no, ma'am.... + +[_He puts his hand behind him._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +I am sorry.... Very, very sorry. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, ma'am. + +[_Mlle. Perrault goes out silently, and in a moment she is heard to call_ +"Marie"--"John," _and a distant answer is heard_. + +_Susan comes to the door and sees Jonathan. She crosses to him. He looks at +her almost with madness in his eyes._ + +SUSAN + +They didn't mean to hurt you. + +[_She lays her hand on his arm._ + +JONATHAN + +Yes, I know. + +[_There is a moment of the tenderest, most understanding silence. He turns +away._ + +_Susan starts to reach in her bag, she even takes her purse out; but she +replaces it unopened, and instead of bestowing alms, she takes a flower +from her hair and presses it in Jonathan's hands._ + +_He looks at her with years of pent-up gratitude loosed from his heart._ + +_Silently, she turns away and goes into the house. Jonathan, left alone, +turns so that his hump once more shows in the most distorted shadow. He +lifts the flower and for a single moment, its shadow rises above the shadow +of the hump, a tiny cross on his little Calvary. Then he lays the flower +against his cheek and sits upon the log near Hank._ + +_Hank awakens._ + +HANK (_looking up stupidly_) + +What you got? + +JONATHAN (_hiding the flower_) + +Nothing. + +HANK + +Come across, Humpy. + +JONATHAN + +Don't you call me that! + +HANK + +So--ho! What you yelling at me for? + +[_He sits up._ + +JONATHAN + +Nothing.... I didn't mean to yell. + +HANK + +What you got there? + +JONATHAN + +I tell you I haven't got anything, Hank. + +HANK + +Come on. Come across. + +JONATHAN + +It's not for you. + +HANK + +Come on. + +JONATHAN (_Rises and moves away_) + +No. + +HANK. + +Gimme it here.... + +[_He grabs Jonathan and tears the flower from his hand._ + +JONATHAN + +Stop that! + +HANK + +Great God! (_Throwing the crushed petals on the ground_) Say, what's the +matter with you? + +JONATHAN + +I tell you, I'm going back.... I'm going back to my home.... I'm going to +find my Uncle Nathaniel. I know he'll take me in. He won't blame me because +I'm a cripple.... I know.... I know.... Didn't he say, "Poor Jonathan"?... + +[_At this moment Nathaniel enters, and the two stand face to face as they +had stood in the lumber-room at their first meeting._ + +_Hank slinks away._ + +_Nathaniel is untouched by the years. Jonathan looks at him hopefully, but +there is no glint of recognition In Nathaniel's eye._ + +JONATHAN (_timidly_) + +Uncle Nathaniel. + +NATHANIEL + +What did you say, my boy? + +JONATHAN (_Less and less audible, as his disappointment increases_) + +Uncle Nathaniel. + +NATHANIEL + +I can't hear you. + +JONATHAN + +You--are--my--Uncle Nathaniel. + +NATHANIEL + +Come, come, my boy. I can't hear you. + +JONATHAN + +Aren't you--Mr.--Nathaniel--Clay? + +NATHANIEL (_kindly, but as to a stranger_) + +Yes, I am Mr. Nathaniel Clay. + +[_Jonathan smiles one of his old half smiles._ + +JONATHAN + +My name's--Jonathan. + +NATHANIEL + +Jonathan!... I had a nephew whose name was Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +Don't you know me? + +NATHANIEL + +You must forgive me, little man--but I do not remember you. Boys grow so +quickly. + +JONATHAN + +Don't you remember _Zenobia_? + +NATHANIEL + +_Zenobia?_ Who was she? + +JONATHAN + +Don't you remember the little theatre? + +NATHANIEL + +Oh, yes, my nephew Jonathan had a little toy theatre, and he wrote a play +called _Zenobia_.... He burnt them. + +JONATHAN + +Was it wrong to burn them? + +NATHANIEL + +I don't know. You see Jonathan ran away, and I have never seen him since. + +JONATHAN + +Do you blame him? + +NATHANIEL + +Well, I can't say. When a fine boy like Jonathan runs away from home, he +may have what he considers a good reason. + +JONATHAN + +Don't you know why he ran away? + +NATHANIEL + +I think I know. + +JONATHAN + +Would you tell me why? + +NATHANIEL + +That wouldn't do any good, my boy.... If you had an uncle who liked you +very much, would you run away? + +JONATHAN + +No, sir--not if I had another chance.... + +NATHANIEL + +What do you mean? + +JONATHAN + +Don't you really know me? + +NATHANIEL + +I'm sorry--no! + +JONATHAN (_pointing to Hank_) + +Do you know him? + +NATHANIEL + +That tramp? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir.... That's Hank. + +NATHANIEL + +Hank? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, the one I ran away with. + +NATHANIEL + +Did you run away, too? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir; I jumped out the window, and I fell and broke my back. Hank +said-- + +NATHANIEL + +What a dirty man! + +JONATHAN + +He's my pal. + +NATHANIEL + +You're evidently a fine young man inside. + +JONATHAN + +Oh, I'm sorry, sir, that I ran away. + +NATHANIEL + +You can't undo the past, my boy, but you can make the future. + +JONATHAN + +I can't straighten my back. + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps not, but you can straighten your life. + +JONATHAN + +I'm only a beggar, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +There is something everybody can do. + +JONATHAN + +There isn't any place for me.... + +NATHANIEL + +My boy, there is a place for everybody who wants a place. + +JONATHAN + +Do you remember what your nephew wanted to do? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, he wanted to write plays and run a theatre and be an actor. + +JONATHAN + +I couldn't ever be an actor, could I? + +NATHANIEL + +No, my boy. + +JONATHAN + +Supposing you had your heart set on something and couldn't do it, what +would you do? + +NATHANIEL + +I'd not give up.... I'd try something else. + +JONATHAN + +Supposing I were your nephew, what would you do? + +NATHANIEL + +I'd find out what you wanted to be. + +JONATHAN + +Don't I look like Jonathan? + +NATHANIEL + +Jonathan must be very tall now. + +JONATHAN + +If Jonathan weren't tall? + +NATHANIEL + +But he _is_ tall and splendid. I know Jonathan! And he's doing what he set +out to do. + +JONATHAN + +I hope you'll find him, sir, and I hope he'll make you proud. + +NATHANIEL (_very earnestly_) + +My boy, how old are you? + +JONATHAN + +I'm twenty. + +NATHANIEL + +Twenty.... Will you try to pull yourself out of the rut? + +JONATHAN + +What do you mean, sir? + +NATHANIEL + +Look at that man. What is he to you? + +JONATHAN + +He's my pal. + +NATHANIEL + +You mustn't waste your life on such emptiness as his. + +JONATHAN + +I'm going to try, sir.... And if I make good, will you believe I'm +Jonathan? + +NATHANIEL + +I'll believe you are you.... Here.... + +[_He offers Jonathan a coin._ + +JONATHAN + +Oh, no, sir.... I can't--from you-- + +NATHANIEL + +Well, you are a strange beggar-- + +JONATHAN + +I'm not a beggar at heart.... I don't want to be what I am. But I don't +know which way to turn. I'm all mixed up. + +NATHANIEL + +All mixed up? + +[_Nathaniel turns and looks toward the hill._ + +Boy, there is a green hill far away. Climb to the top of it, look about and +you will see-- + +JONATHAN + +I know: the whole wide world! + +NATHANIEL + +Exactly. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +Go to the hilltop alone--and cry out to your heart's content.--There's +nothing like a hilltop to make a man feel worth while! + +JONATHAN + +I knew that, sir; but I forgot it. I'm going-- + +NATHANIEL + +Good-bye, boy; God bless you. + +[_The two clasp hands and Nathaniel goes._ + +JONATHAN + +He believes in me.... + +[_He watches Nathaniel with wide eyes, then calls to Hank._ + +Hank! Hank! + +HANK + +What you want? + +JONATHAN + +_He_ didn't know me! + +HANK + +Who didn't know you? + +[_Hank lies down._ + +JONATHAN + +Uncle Nathaniel.... He just passed by.... But, Hank, he believed in me! He +believed I'd make good. + +HANK + +Say, what's the matter with you today? + +JONATHAN + +I'm goin' to leave you, Hank. + +HANK + +Huh? + +JONATHAN + +Old pal, I'm going to leave you forever. You've stuck by me-- + +HANK + +Sure, I've stuck by you. + +[_Makes himself comfortable._ + +Ain't you saved me a heap o' trouble? + +JONATHAN + +But I'm going now, Hank. Good-bye. I'm going to the green hill far away. + +[_He starts away leaving Hank alone and asleep. The lights fade out._ + +_Soft music is heard through the darkness and slowly the outline of the +green hill appears close at hand. Jonathan outlined against the sky appears +at the edge of the hill, climbing with difficulty._ + +NATHANIEL (_The voice is heard with the music_) + +Nine ninety-nine--one thousand. You're nearly there, Boy. + +JONATHAN + +Nine hundred and ninety-nine--one thousand--I'm almost there. + +NATHANIEL (_far away_) + +A thousand and one--a thousand and two-- + +JONATHAN + +A thousand and one, a thousand and two--I am here! + +NATHANIEL (_far away_) + +The world is here. + +JONATHAN (_as though addressing the world_) + +Listen.... I ran away. I ran away. I was fourteen. I saw visions of great +things. I heard voices of the past and the future. I wanted to tell what I +saw and heard.... Oh, you who made sport of my dreams, I am here at the top +of the world! Uncle John, I have heard things you will never hear, and I +have seen things you will never see. + +JOHN (_far away_) + +But your back's broken. + +JONATHAN + +Oh, Susan--Susan Sample--see--see. I told you I wasn't a beggar. +See--see--Jonathan stands at the top of the world! + +SUSAN (_faintly_) + +But your back's broken. + +JONATHAN + +Oh, people of all the world, I am a boy who asks you to hear me and to +understand. I only wanted to work out _my_ way.... I planned my way because +I couldn't help it--I wanted to build my own world--alone.... I climbed +clear to the top--Jonathan stands before you-- + +VOICES + +Jonathan's dead. + +JONATHAN + +Dead?... Oh, see the wreck of everything.... Jonathan _is_ dead! + +[_He falls._ + +NATHANIEL + +Boy--boy--Jonathan!--I believe you are you. + +JONATHAN + +Uncle Nathaniel! + +[_He rises slowly._ + +Oh, people of all the world, my Uncle Nathaniel understands.--I speak for +all the boys of all times. Have patience--patience and understanding. Don't +you remember when you were young? We come to you with hopes and dreams and +wishes and fears,--and these are the things that life is made of-- + +NATHANIEL + +I am here, Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +I'm coming to you. I'm coming back to you with all my hopes and dreams. + +NATHANIEL + +We're waiting for you, Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +I've made my wish that's coming true!! + +[_He jumps into space._ + + +_Curtain._ + + + + +ACT III + +JONATHAN MAKES A WISH + + +[_The scene is a summer house on the estate of John Clay. It is charmingly +furnished with wicker chairs and a table. The building is hexagon shape and +we look into half the hexagon. The doors at the left open on to the path +that leads from the house. The doors at the back open onto a garden path +that leads to a gate. Eight weeks have elapsed since the first act._ + +_The curtain rises disclosing an empty stage. It is early evening and +sunset is leaving only the faintest tinge above the hills. After a moment +Jonathan enters. He is unchanged except that he still carries in his eyes +some of the horror of his delirium. He opens the back windows and then sits +above the table and begins to look at an illustrated paper._ + +_Nathaniel enters carrying a manuscript. He seems a bit less carefree than +at his homecoming, and he also seems closer to Jonathan._ + +NATHANIEL + +Well, my boy-- + +JONATHAN + +Uncle Nathaniel, did you know that Caproni was an artist? + +NATHANIEL + +You mean the Caproni who makes the wonderful aeroplanes? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +No, I didn't know it; but I'm not surprised. + +JONATHAN + +Aren't these pictures fine? + +NATHANIEL + +Excellent. + +JONATHAN + +He made them.... They're like great dragon-flies, aren't they? + +NATHANIEL + +A whole swarm of them. + +JONATHAN + +It must feel funny to fly through air. + +NATHANIEL + +Would you like to try it some time? + +JONATHAN + +Yes... but I'd have to get used to it.... It must be like diving. + +NATHANIEL + +When you were very ill you seemed to imagine you were falling. + +JONATHAN + +Did I talk much when I was unconscious? + +NATHANIEL + +You talked almost continuously. + +JONATHAN + +Did I?... You said you'd tell me what I said--when I was strong enough.... +I'm pretty strong now. + +NATHANIEL + +Do you know what I did? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know. + +NATHANIEL (_showing manuscript_) + +Can you guess? + +JONATHAN (_Looks at manuscript_) + +"Jonathan Builds a Fear." What does that mean? + +NATHANIEL + +When you were delirious I listened to what you said and then I made a story +out of it. + +JONATHAN + +You mean this is all about me? + +NATHANIEL + +It's about a little hunchback who thought he was you. + +JONATHAN + +I know. I was always trying to make somebody know me, and finally I thought +I jumped from the top of a hill and I seemed to be falling for years and +years.... + +NATHANIEL + +Those were terrible days, my boy, and do you know, we were afraid you +wouldn't live. + +JONATHAN + +It was a terrible feeling. + +NATHANIEL + +I know, but all that's over now; and there's the whole story about the +little hunchback you never were. + +JONATHAN + +[_Hank's whistle is heard. Jonathan rises very quickly and looks at +Nathaniel._ + +NATHANIEL + +He comes every now and then to ask about you and to get something to eat. + +[_Hank whistles again._ + +HANK'S VOICE (_at back_) + +Hi! + +NATHANIEL + +Come in, Hank.-- + +HANK + +Is the old man here? + +NATHANIEL + +No. + +HANK (_Enters through the gateway whistling_) + +Hello, boy. + +JONATHAN + +I'm well now. How are you? + +HANK + +I'm beginning to get cold, so I think I'll go south tomorrow and I thought +I'd drop in to say good-bye. + +NATHANIEL + +I'll give you an overcoat, Hank. + +HANK + +No, thanks. It's too hot to carry it. I'll get one when I really need it, +maybe. + +NATHANIEL + +Well, here's something for you. + +[_He offers him a five dollar bill._ + +Five dollars! No, thanks. If I had that much money I'd lose it maybe. Give +me two bits and call it square. + +[_Nathaniel hands him a quarter._ + +Thanks.... Well... good-bye.... I'm glad your back wasn't broke. + +JONATHAN + +Good-bye, Hank. + +HANK + +Good-bye, Mister.... I'll see you next year maybe, when it's warm.--Say, +kid, I'd like to see that _Zenobia_ show again:--"Hail, noble duke," "All's +well, Irene." "Not very well, noble duke." + +[_He goes out, chuckling to himself._ + +_Aunt Letitia enters. As usual she has something to keep her hands busy. +She seats herself comfortably in a chair that custom has evidently made her +very own. In her work she shows the effect of time upon her eyes and she +may feel a tiny draught that causes her to close the doors behind her and +draw her scarf a bit more closely about her. Never has Aunt Letitia seemed +more successfully the poor relation._ + +LETITIA + +I thought you were out with John. + +NATHANIEL + +No. + +[_Jonathan is looking at the manuscript._ + +LETITIA (_to Jonathan_) + +How do you feel, dear? + +JONATHAN + +Fine;... I think I'll go in the house and read this. + +(_To Nathaniel_) + +I'm glad it isn't true. + +[_He goes out._ + +NATHANIEL + +It's the story of his delirium. I thought it would interest him--and +relieve him. + +LETITIA + +Has John gone? + +NATHANIEL + +Only for a stroll--the doctor's orders. + +LETITIA + +Well? + +NATHANIEL + +Well? + +LETITIA + +Sit down. + +NATHANIEL + +In John's chair? + +LETITIA + +If you wish. + +NATHANIEL + +John's chair! The throne of the head of the family! (_He sits in John's +chair_) Well? + +LETITIA + +Nathaniel dear, you are making John very unhappy. + +NATHANIEL + +And John has made me very unhappy, dearest Aunt Letty. + +LETITIA + +The feeling at the dinner table was almost unbearable tonight. There we sat +strained and silent. + +NATHANIEL + +I am sorry. I try to avoid meals with John as much as possible. + +LETITIA + +You've been here eight weeks and John and I know nothing of you. For me it +is enough that you are here; but John is the head of the family and he +feels that you ought to treat him with greater deference. + +NATHANIEL + +It is revolting to me to have a tsar in the family. + +LETITIA + +Your father and your father's father and grandfather were rulers of the +Clay family. + +NATHANIEL + +I don't question that. + +LETITIA + +You can't change John. + +NATHANIEL + +I don't want to change John. + +LETITIA + +Then why not tell him something about yourself? + +NATHANIEL + +It is none of John's affairs how or why I live. It is none of his affair +how or why or when I shall marry Mlle. Perrault. + +LETITIA + +Perhaps not. + +NATHANIEL + +When I tell him anything, Aunt Letty, it will be one thing--I have stayed +here because I love Jonathan, because he needs me. And I have listened to +the boy's fears and to his hopes as they came out of his poor tortured +little soul in his delirium. I have watched him during his convalescence, +and I see in him a growing man in prison. John sees in him only the +potential head of the family; but he is my flesh and blood as much as he is +John's and I intend to set him free. + +LETITIA + +My beloved Nathaniel, John will not give Jonathan up to you. + +NATHANIEL + +I don't want Jonathan unless he wants to come to me, but I do want +Jonathan's freedom. + +LETITIA + +Isn't he a bit young to have _freedom_. + +NATHANIEL + +Aunt Letitia, I don't mean a silly license.--I mean freedom. If you are +cultivating a peach-tree you don't expect oranges on it even if it could +wish to be an orange tree, but you can help to make it bear better peaches. +Jonathan isn't a mechanical business person. His bent is in another +direction. + +LETITIA + +What are you going to do? + +NATHANIEL + +Frankly, I do not know. + +[_Up to window._ + +All I know now is that I shall stay here until I find a plan. + +[_Jonathan enters._ + +JONATHAN + +Where is Uncle John? + +NATHANIEL + +He has gone for a stroll. + +LETITIA + +What do you want, my dear? + +JONATHAN + +Uncle John sent word that he wanted to see me here at 7:30. + +[_Letitia and Nathaniel look at each other._ + +_Jonathan takes out a large silver watch._ + +It's 7:29 now. + +NATHANIEL + +John will be on time--count sixty slowly-- + +[_John enters. He is rather pale, seems pre-occupied and even more +unapproachable than ever._ + +LETITIA + +Did you have a pleasant stroll? + +JOHN + +I wasn't walking. + +LETITIA + +I shall go into the house, I think. + +JOHN + +No, Aunt Letitia, I would rather you'd wait, if you please. + +[_Nathaniel is an interested spectator. He cannot understand why Jonathan +should be present for what will probably be an eventful family scene._ + +Nathaniel, will you sit down? + +NATHANIEL + +Certainly.--Where? + +JOHN (_tartly_) + +Would you like my chair? + +NATHANIEL + +Thank you. + +[_He sits in John's chair, much to John's annoyance._ + +JOHN + +Jonathan, sit down. + +[_Jonathan sits. John also sits. Aunt Letitia knows what to expect. +Nathaniel is more curious than angry. Jonathan is attending his first +family conference._ + +Jonathan, I've sent for you because I want to talk to you seriously. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +Do you think the boy is strong enough? + +JOHN + +The doctor told me today that he would be quite equal to it.... Eight weeks +ago, Jonathan, you made an effort to run away from your home, because I +punished you. In your foolish defiance of all family authority you suffered +a fall that might have resulted in a lasting and serious injury. +Fortunately you have recovered fully from the result of your fall. + +NATHANIEL + +Excuse me, John, but all of us know this. + +JOHN + +One moment, please, Nathaniel.... I have now arranged that you begin your +preparation for your life work immediately. You will leave for Somerset +School the day after tomorrow. + +JONATHAN (_desperately_) + +Uncle John, I don't want to go to Somerset School. + +JOHN + +You will leave for Somerset day after tomorrow. Good night, Jonathan. + +NATHANIEL + +Why Somerset? + +JOHN + +Good night, Jonathan. + +[_Jonathan, dazed, goes out._ + +NATHANIEL + +Jonathan will never go to Somerset School. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, you forfeited your rights in the family councils when you ran +away from home seventeen years ago. + +NATHANIEL + +This boy will run away again and again and I mean to save him from what I +have suffered, if I can. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, by what right do you attempt to interfere with my decisions? + +NATHANIEL + +By the right of blood and understanding. + +JOHN + +Blood and understanding? Where were you when Emily had to leave her husband +and brought her boy into my home? Where were you when Emily died? I took +Emily in and I took her boy in. As head of the family it was my duty to do +so and as head of the family it is my duty to see that the boy is brought +up in the best traditions of the family. + +NATHANIEL + +John, you can't force this boy into a mold. + +JOHN + +A boy of fourteen doesn't know his mind.... Do _you_ know what Jonathan +wants to be? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, a writer of plays, a theatre director, and an actor. + +JOHN + +Imagine!... And I suppose you encouraged him. + +NATHANIEL + +No, but I didn't discourage him. The selection was wide enough for him to +find some lasting life work. + +JOHN + +He never told me he wanted to be an actor. + +NATHANIEL + +Oh, my brother, every growing boy has a deep secret wish that he cannot +bring himself to disclose! As you know, I always wanted to be a writer, but +most of all I wanted to be a left-handed base ball pitcher. And although +I'm irretrievably right handed I used to practice--religiously--pitching +with my left hand. + +JOHN + +That was juvenile foolishness. + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, but it was genuine. + +[_John starts to speak._ + +What am I now? I am going to tell you, John--by and by. First, we must +dispose of the boy. + +JOHN + +I shall decide about the boy. + +NATHANIEL + +No, John; the boy must decide for himself. + +JOHN + +He'd decide to be an actor. + +NATHANIEL + +If he did, what of it? + +JOHN + +I want members of my family to do useful work. + +NATHANIEL + +What _is_ useful work? An actor serves his purpose just as a plumber or +lawyer serves his.... The only difference is that all of us are not +plumbers or lawyers while all of us _are_ actors. Yes, John, we're all +playing something--you are playing at head of the family, I'm-- + +JOHN + +Still I do not regard acting as a worth-while or lucrative profession. + +NATHANIEL + +You never know, John.... Five generations ago the Clays were respectable +carpenters. They weren't wealthy and they gave no promise of becoming +wealthy. Then suddenly our revered ancestor became a successful maker of +cypress drain pipes--sewer pipes, I think we used to call them! The family +fortunes were founded!! Our ancestor bought a high hat and the esteem of +his neighbors. Cypress was in time replaced by pottery. Conduits for wires +and terra cotta building materials were added to our achievements and then +in your régime superfine sewers became a specialty. + +JOHN + +Every kind of concrete work! + +NATHANIEL + +I beg your pardon! Concrete sewers and other concrete things.--Such is the +foundation of the family. + +JOHN + +You are evidently ashamed of our business. + +NATHANIEL + +Not at all, but I cannot consider the manufacturing of sewers a greater +achievement than acting. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, are you an actor? + +NATHANIEL + +No. + +JOHN + +What are you? + +NATHANIEL + +For the present I am Jonathan's uncle. + +JOHN + +You have nothing to do with Jonathan. + +NATHANIEL + +The boy is not going to Somerset School. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, I shall not tolerate your interference. Now I must ask you to +leave this house. + +NATHANIEL + +What? + +LETITIA + +John... Nathaniel... my boys, it isn't my way to interfere; but please for +my sake, for your mother's sake--think what you're doing. + +JOHN (_With some tenderness he lays his hand on Letitia's_) + +I have thought, Aunt Letitia. I can not allow this boy's life to be ruined +as Emily's and Henry's and Nathaniel's were. + +NATHANIEL + +Ruined? John, I'll tell you how ruined my life has been and I'll tell you +in terms you'll understand. My income last year was over $350,000! + +JOHN + +Are you acting now? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, I'm acting--I'm acting in terms that you will understand.... You know +that I'm your brother Nathaniel. Do you know who else I am? I am a writer +and a playwright and a director in the United Baking Company and a +stockholder in the National Munitions Company--munitions, John; think of +it, millions, millions in them--and I'm willing and eager to take Emily's +boy and educate him in the way he wants to live his life. + +JOHN + +What are these heroics? + +NATHANIEL + +I mean what I say. If need be I shall use brute force, financial force or +any kind of force to free Jonathan from the misery that I endured in this +house. + +JOHN + +You had everything you wanted. + +NATHANIEL + +Everything except freedom to think my own thoughts. John, some people are +like reinforced concrete. Someone builds the iron frame and the wooden +molds, then pours the cement and when it has hardened, the molds are +removed and lo, you have a monolith--a solid unchangeable stone. + +JOHN + +You talk very well, Nathaniel, but I shall insist upon bringing up my +sister's child in my way. + +NATHANIEL + +Would you have him run away as I did? + +JOHN + +He will never run away again. He has had his lesson. + +[_Jonathan enters carrying a suit case._ + +JONATHAN + +May I speak to you, Uncle John? + +JOHN + +What are you doing with that suit case? + +JONATHAN + +I'm going away. + +JOHN + +Who gave you permission? + +JONATHAN + +Nobody.... I've been thinking since a little while ago and at first I +thought I'd run away again; but that wouldn't be quite fair--so I came to +tell you. + +JOHN + +Take that suit case back into the house. + +JONATHAN + +No, sir! I'm going and nobody can keep me here unless they tie me. + +JOHN + +Well, I'll tell you one thing--if you leave this house without my +permission I'll cut you off without a penny and you'll never be allowed to +come back again. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. I know that; but I'm going and I came to tell you good-bye. + +JOHN + +Very well. You've made your choice--and I never want to see you again as +long as you live. Good-bye, Jonathan. Good-bye, Nathaniel. + +LETITIA + +John, don't say things you'll regret. Jonathan doesn't mean what he's +saying. + +JONATHAN + +Yes'm, I do mean what I say. + +JOHN + +Good night. + +[_He goes out._ + +LETITIA + +Boys, you are so hot-headed--so much alike.... + +NATHANIEL + +You dear, you have always been content to compromise while we two must go +our own ways or not at all. You go to John. Help him as you can. He's not a +bad man--he's just a structure of reinforced concrete. You love John and he +in his way loves you. Go to John and comfort his outraged authority. + +LETITIA + +I'm sorry things have turned out this way. (_She kisses them_) Good night, +my dears. Wait until morning if you can, my darling Nathaniel. + +[_She goes out._ + +NATHANIEL + +Now you've done it! + +JONATHAN + +I couldn't help it. + +NATHANIEL + +What are you going to do? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know.... They say there's plenty of work on farms. + +NATHANIEL + +You can't write if you work on a farm. + +JONATHAN + +I can earn some more money and save. Other boys have worked their way +through school and college. I can do that. + +NATHANIEL + +Of course--that is a way out of it. Yes... of course.... + +[_Nathaniel opens the back doors and sees the thinnest crescent moon +hanging in the sky._ + +The new moon.... They say if you make a wish on the new moon it will come +true. + +JONATHAN + +You have to see it over your right shoulder. + +NATHANIEL + +You saw it over your right shoulder. + +JONATHAN + +I don't believe that, do you? + +NATHANIEL + +Well, suppose it were true, what would you wish? + +JONATHAN + +You mean for right away? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes. + +JONATHAN [_carefully looking over his right shoulder._ + +I'd wish to be with you. + +NATHANIEL + +More than anything? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +More than being a writer or a theatre director or an actor? + +JONATHAN + +Oh, yes, I'm too young to start right away. I have to have an education +first. + +NATHANIEL + +Suppose that wish couldn't be, then what would you wish? + +JONATHAN + +That you'd write me long letters and let me write you long letters. + +[_Takes up his suit case._ + +I'd better be going now. + +NATHANIEL + +Aren't you going to tell John and Aunt Letitia good-bye? + +JONATHAN + +No, sir. I don't think I'd better. Uncle John doesn't care and Aunt Letitia +will understand. + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, she always understands somehow. + +JONATHAN + +Good-bye, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +Jonathan, suppose we go away together. I'm not wanted and you're not +wanted. + +JONATHAN + +You're going to Paris to marry Mlle. Perrault! + +NATHANIEL + +Would you let me be your father, Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +Sir? + +NATHANIEL + +You shall go to the schools where you will find the work you want.... Will +you be my son? + +JONATHAN + +Do you like me that much? + +NATHANIEL + +I like you more than that much. You'll get some long trousers and we'll +plan and plan. Suppose we run away together. + +JONATHAN + +Do you think we ought to leave some word, Uncle Nathaniel? + +NATHANIEL + +Of course. How stupid of me. + +JONATHAN + +You write it. + +NATHANIEL + +No, we'll both write it. + +JONATHAN + +I don't know what to say. I've only run away once. + +NATHANIEL + +So have I. + +JONATHAN + +Did you ever run away? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes--when I was eighteen. + +JONATHAN + +Oh! + +NATHANIEL (_taking up paper_) + +The message ought to be short. + +JONATHAN + +Why did you run away? + +NATHANIEL + +I wanted to write. + +JONATHAN + +You did! + +NATHANIEL + +Didn't you know I ran away? + +JONATHAN + +No, sir; they never would tell me what became of you. + +NATHANIEL + +They didn't know. + +JONATHAN + +How could you keep it from them? + +NATHANIEL + +I changed my name--Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr! What shall I say? + +JONATHAN + +I can't think.... Did Uncle John lock you in? + +NATHANIEL + +No, I just ran away. + +JONATHAN + +How long did it take you to make up your mind to go? + +NATHANIEL + +I thought about it first when I was twelve. My father was still living +then. + +JONATHAN + +Did you go to Somerset School? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes--for three years. + +JONATHAN + +What did you do after you ran away? + +NATHANIEL + +I had a very hard time, my boy--at first. I worked at anything I could get, +then I got into a newspaper office, then I wrote "autobiographies" of +famous men. + +JONATHAN + +I thought you had to write your own autobiography-- + +NATHANIEL + +Not nowadays. Then I wrote some successful short stories, then some very +successful long ones--and now I am independent; but it took me ten bitter +years to make my first success.... What shall I write here? + +JONATHAN + +I never could think of things to say when I was going away. + +NATHANIEL + +Neither could I. + +JONATHAN + +Don't you think "good-bye" would be enough? + +NATHANIEL (_writing_) + +Capital.... "Good-Bye--Nathaniel." Now you sign it. + +JONATHAN (_Signs_) + +"Jonathan."... Maybe we ought to put a line under it so Aunt Letitia won't +feel so bad. + +NATHANIEL (_makes a line_) + +Dear Aunt Letitia will understand. She is the blessed kind who always does. +Now, where shall we put it?... On John's chair, and maybe he'll understand +too. + +[_He pins the note to John's chair._ + +JONATHAN + +Don't you want to pack your things? + +NATHANIEL + +I'll wire for them. + +[_Susan enters._ + +On second thought, I'll ask Aunt Letitia to send them. + +[_He goes out._ + +JONATHAN + +Hello, Susan. + +SUSAN + +Jonathan, I just saw Miss Letitia and she was crying.... What's the matter? + +JONATHAN + +I'm going away, Susan. + +SUSAN + +Where are you going? + +JONATHAN + +I'm going with Uncle Nathaniel. I'm going to be his son. And I'm going to a +fine prep. school and learn to write and do what I like. + +SUSAN + +When are you coming back? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know. When I'm older maybe. + +SUSAN + +Can't we write any more songs? + +JONATHAN + +I'll send some words to you in letters. + +SUSAN + +Will you write every week? + +JONATHAN + +Yes.... Will you? + +SUSAN + +Yes. I wish I was going, too. + +JONATHAN + +So do I. + +SUSAN + +Maybe I'll come to see you graduate. + +JONATHAN + +That will be fine! + +SUSAN (_She kisses him very simply_) + +Good-bye, Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +Good-bye, Susan. + +SUSAN + +I can hardly wait until you graduate. + +JONATHAN + +Neither can I.... Good-bye. + +[_Nathaniel enters._ + +NATHANIEL + +On third thought, I decided to wire for my things. + +SUSAN + +Good-bye, Mr. Nathaniel. I hope you'll have a nice time. + +NATHANIEL + +Good-bye, Susan. + +[_He kisses her. She goes out._ + +JONATHAN + +Good-bye, Susan. + +SUSAN (_calling_) + +Send me some picture postcards, Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +I will. + +[_He watches her._ + +NATHANIEL (_Goes to window_) + +Don't you want to make your wish on the new moon, Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know what to wish now. The only one I could think of has come true. + +NATHANIEL + +Good... come, my boy. + +JONATHAN + +I'll write a long letter to Susan Sample every week. + +NATHANIEL + +You can write her a long letter from New York. + +JONATHAN + +And I can send her picture postcards from every place we go to. + +[_Arm in arm they go out talking._ + + +_The Curtain Falls._ + + + + +APPENDIX + +A. M. PALMER--AUTHOR'S MATINEES + + _Madison Square Theater_ 1887 + + MARJORIE'S LOVERS _Brander Matthews_ + ELAINE (from Tennyson) _G. P. Lathrop_ + A FOREGONE CONCLUSION _W. D. Howells_ + + +THE THEATER OF ARTS AND LETTERS + + _23rd Street Theater_ 1891 + + GILES COREY _Mary E. Wilkins_ + SQUIRREL INN (from Frank Stockton) _Frank Presbrey_ + THE OTHER WOMAN _Richard Harding Davis_ + HARVEST _Clyde Fitch_ + + THE DECISION OF THE COURT _Brander Matthews_ + _Frederick J. Stimson_ + + +THE CRITERION INDEPENDENT THEATER + + _Madison Square Theater_ 1897 + + _Berkeley Lyceum_ + + JOHN GABRIEL BJORKMAN _Ibsen_ + {THE RIGHTS OF THE SOUL _Giacosa_ + {THAT OVERCOAT _Augustus Thomas_ + {FROM A CLEAR SKY _Henri Dumay_ + EL GRAN GALEOTO _Echegaray_ + + +THE INDEPENDENT THEATER + + _Carnegie Lyceum_ 1899 + + EL GRAN GALEOTO _Echegaray_ + TIES _Hervieu_ + THE MASTER BUILDER _Ibsen_ + THE STORM _Ostrovsky_ + THE HEATHER FIELD _Martyn_ + A TROUBADOUR _Coppé_ + + +THE NEW THEATER + + 1909--1911 + + _First Season_ + + ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA _Shakespeare_ + THE COTTAGE IN THE AIR _Knoblauch_ + STRIFE _Galsworthy_ + THE NIGGER _Sheldon_ + THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL _Sheridan_ + {LIZ THE MOTHER _Fenn and Bryce_ + {DON _Besier_ + TWELFTH NIGHT _Shakespeare_ + THE WITCH (adapted from Scandinavian by _Hagadorn Wiers-Jenssen_) + {BRAND (act IV condensed) _Ibsen_ + {SISTER BEATRICE _Maeterlinck_ + THE WINTER'S TALE _Shakespeare_ + BEETHOVEN _Fauchois_ + +_Second Season_ + + THE BLUE BIRD _Maeterlinck_ + THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR _Shakespeare_ + THE THUNDERBOLT _Pinero_ + {DON _Besier_ + {SISTER BEATRICE _Maeterlinck_ + MARY MAGDALENE _Maeterlinck_ + OLD HEIDELBERG _Meyer-Foerster_ + VANITY FAIR _R. Hichens and C. Gordan Lennox_ + THE PIPER _Marks_ + NOBODY'S DAUGHTER _Paston_ + THE ARROW MAKER _Austin_ + + In addition there was a borrowed production of + + A SONG OF THE PEOPLE _Michaelis_ + + +MISS GRACE GEORGE--THE PLAYHOUSE + + _The Playhouse_ 1915-1917 + + _1st Season_ + + THE NEW YORK IDEA _Mitchell_ + THE LIARS _Jones_ + EARTH _Fagan_ + MAJOR BARBARA _Shaw_ + CAPTAIN BRASSBOUND'S CONVERSION _Shaw_ + +_2nd Season_ + + EVE'S DAUGHTER _Ramsey_ + ELEVATION _Bernstein_ + + +WASHINGTON SQUARE PLAYERS[7] + + _Bandbox and Comedy Theaters_ 1915-1917 + + INTERIOR _Maeterlinck_ + EUGENICALLY SPEAKING _Goodman_ + LICENSED _Lawrence_ + ANOTHER INTERIOR + LOVE OF ONE'S NEIGHBOR _Andreyev_ + MOONDOWN _Reed_ + MY LADY'S HONOR _Pemberton_ + TWO BLIND BEGGARS AND ONE LESS BLIND _Moeller_ + THE SHEPHERD IN THE DISTANCE (pantomime) _Hudson_ + THE MIRACLE OF ST. ANTONY _Maeterlinck_ + IN APRIL _Stokes_ + FORBIDDEN FRUIT _Feuillet_ + SAVIOURS _Goodman_ + THE BEAR _Tchekhov_ + HELENA'S HUSBAND _Moeller_ + FIRE AND WATER _White_ + THE ANTICK _Mackaye_ + A NIGHT OF SNOWS _Bracco_ + LITERATURE _Schnitzler_ + THE HONOURABLE LOVER _Bracco_ + WHIMS _Musset_ + OVERTONES _Gerstenberg_ + THE CLOD _Beach_ + THE ROAD-HOUSE IN ARDEN _Moeller_ + THE TENOR _Wedekind_ + THE RED CLOAK (pantomime) _Meyer_ + CHILDREN _Bolton and Carlton_ + THE AGE OF REASON _Dorrian_ + THE MAGICAL CITY _Akins_ + _Monsieur Pierre Patelin_ + AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE _Maeterlinck_ + THE SEA GULL _Tchekhov_ + A MERRY DEATH _Evréinev_ + LOVER'S LUCK _Porto-Riche_ + THE SUGAR HOUSE _Brown_ + SISTERS OF SUSANNA _Moeller_ + BUSHIDO _Izumo_ + TRIFLES _Glaspell_ + ANOTHER WAY OUT _Langner_ + ALTRUISM _Ettlinger_ + THE DEATH OF TINTAGILES _Maeterlinck_ + THE LAST STRAW _Crocker_ + THE HERO OF SANTA MARIA _Goodman and Hecht_ + IMPUDENCE _Auernheimer_ + PLOTS AND PLAYWRIGHTS _Massey_ + THE LIFE OF MAN _Andreyev_ + SGANARELLE _Molière_ + THE POOR FOOL _Bahr_ + GHOSTS _Ibsen_ + PARIAH _Strindberg_ + + +REPERTORY OF THE STUART WALKER COMPANY + + THE TRIMPLET _Walker_ + A FAN AND TWO CANDLESTICKS _Macmillan_ + SIX WHO PASS WHILE THE LENTILS BOIL _Walker_ + THE SEVEN GIFTS (a pantomime) _Walker_ + THE MOON LADY (a pantomime) _Walker_ + NEVERTHELESS _Walker_ + GAMMER GURTON'S NEEDLE (adapted by Mr. Walker) _Stevenson_ + THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE _Walker_ + THE GOLDEN DOOM _Dunsany_ + VOICES _Flexner_ + THE CRIER BY NIGHT _Bottomley_ + THE GODS OF THE MOUNTAIN _Dunsany_ + THE MEDICINE SHOW _Walker_ + THE VERY NAKED BOY _Walker_ + THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA (from Oscar Wilde's Story) _Walker_ + KING ARGIMENES AND THE UNKNOWN WARRIOR _Dunsany_ + IT PAYS TO ADVERTISE _Megrue_ + THE DUMMY _O'Higgins and Ford_ + THE CONCERT _Bahr_ + KICK IN _Mack_ + SEVENTEEN _Walker_ + SEVEN KEYS TO BALDPATE _Cohan_ + THE COUNTRY BOY _Selwyn_ + YOU NEVER CAN TELL _Shaw_ + OFFICER 666 _McHugh_ + BROADWAY JONES _Cohan_ + THE WOMAN _DeMille_ + THE SHOW SHOP _Forbes_ + A NIGHT IN AVIGNON _Rice_ + THE SON OF ISIS _Kelly_ + STINGY _Parry_ + THE BOOK OF JOB + ROMANCE _Sheldon_ + STOP THIEF _Moore_ + THE HERO _Brown_ + THE MISLEADING LADY _Goddard and Dickey_ + ALIAS JIMMY VALENTINE (from O. Henry's story) _Armstrong_ + PASSERS BY _Chambers_ + SEVEN UP _Coleman_ + THE THREE OF US _Crothers_ + THE FORTUNE HUNTER _Smith_ + ALICE SIT BY THE FIRE _Barrie_ + THE WORKHOUSE WARD _Gregory_ + THE WOLF _Walter_ + THE TRUTH _Fitch_ + JONATHAN MAKES A WISH _Walker_ + THE LAUGHTER OF THE GODS _Dunsany_ + THE TENTS OF THE ARABS _Dunsany_ + THE CINDERELLA MAN _Carpenter_ + GOOD GRACIOUS ANNABELLE _Kummer_ + LEAH KLESCHNA _MacClellan_ + OVER NIGHT _Bartholomae_ + THE PASSING OF THE THIRD FLOOR BACK _Jerome_ + MILESTONES _Bennett and Knoblock_ + KISMET _Knoblock_ + DON _Besier_ + THE GIBSON UPRIGHT _Tarkington and Ailson_ + THE MURDERERS _Dunsany_ + TOO MANY COOKS _Craven_ + + * * * * * + +CASTS + +THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE + +CAST FOR OPENING + + + O-SODE _Harrie Fumade_ + O-KATSU _Annie Lowry_ + OBAA-SAN _Florence Wollersen_ + THE GAKI OF KOKORU _McKay Morris_ + AOYAGI _Nancy Winston_ + RIKI _Wilmot Heitland_ + + +THE VERY NAKED BOY + +CAST FOR OPENING + + HE _Willard Webster_ + SHE _Dorothea Carothers_ + BOY _Gregory Kelly_ + + +JONATHAN MAKES A WISH + +NEW YORK CAST + + AUNT LETITIA _Elizabeth Patterson_ + SUSAN SAMPLE _Beatrice Maude_ + UNCLE NATHANIEL _George Gaul_ + UNCLE JOHN _Ainsworth Arnold_ + JONATHAN _Gregory Kelly_ + MLLE. PERRAULT _Margaret Mower_ + HANK _Edgar Stehli_ + ALBERT PEET _Joseph Graham_ + MARY _Elizabeth Black_ + JOHN III _John Talbott_ + +First produced at the _Murat Theatre_, Indianapolis, August 12, 1918. + +At the _Princess Theatre_, New York première, September 11, 1918, Elizabeth +Patterson played Aunt Letitia, which was played in Indianapolis by Judith +Lowry. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[7] Taken from Prof. Dickenson's book, "The Insurgent Theater," in which a +number of interesting and more recent repertories of "independent" theaters +are given. + + + + +A SELECTED LIST + +OF + +DRAMATIC LITERATURE + +[Illustration] + +PUBLISHED BY +STEWART & KIDD COMPANY +CINCINNATI + + * * * * * + +DRAMATIC LITERATURE + + +_European Theories of the Drama_ + + _An Anthology of Dramatic Theory and Criticism from + Aristotle to the Present Day, in a Series of Selected + Texts, with Commentaries, Biographies and + Bibliographies_ + + By BARRETT H. CLARK + + _Author of_ "Contemporary French Dramatists," "The + Continental Drama of Today," "British and American + Drama of Today," etc., etc. + +A book of paramount importance. This monumental anthology brings together +for the first time the epoch-making theories and criticisms of the drama +which have affected our civilization from the beginnings in Greece down to +the present day. Beginning with Aristotle, each utterance on the subject +has been chosen with reference to its importance, and its effect on +subsequent dramatic writing. The texts alone would be of great interest and +value, but the author, Barrett H. Clark, has so connected each period by +means of inter-chapters that his comments taken as a whole constitute a +veritable history of dramatic criticism, in which each text bears out his +statements. + +Nowhere else is so important a body of doctrine on the subject of the drama +to be obtained. It cannot fail to appeal to any one who is interested in +the theater, and will be indispensable to students. + +The introduction to each section of the book is followed by an exhaustive +bibliography; each writer whose work is represented is made the subject of +a brief biography, and the entire volume is rendered doubly valuable by the +index, which is worked out in great detail. + +_Prof. Brander Matthews_ of Columbia University says: "Mr. Clark deserves +high praise for the careful thoroughness with which he has performed the +task he set for himself. He has done well what was well worth doing. In +these five hundred pages he has extracted the essence of several five-foot +shelves. His anthology will be invaluable to all students of the principles +of playmaking; and it ought to be welcomed by all those whose curiosity has +been aroused by the frequent references of our latter day theorists of the +theater to their predecessors." + +_Wm. Lyon Phelps_ of Yale University writes: "Mr. Clark's book, 'European +Theories of the Drama,' is an exceedingly valuable work and ought to be +widely useful." + +_Large 8vo, 500 pages Net, $3.50_ + + * * * * * + +_Plays and Players_ + +LEAVES FROM A CRITIC'S SCRAPBOOK + +BY WALTER PRICHARD EATON PREFACE BY BARRETT H. CLARK + +A new volume of criticisms of plays and papers on acting, playmaking, and +other dramatic problems, by Walter Prichard Eaton, dramatic critic, and +author of "The American Stage of Today," "At the New Theater and Others," +"Idyl of the Twin Fires," etc. The new volume begins with plays produced as +far back as 1910, and brings the record down to the current year. One +section is devoted to American plays, one to foreign plays acted on our +stage, one to various revivals of Shakespeare. These sections form a record +of the important activities of the American theater for the past six years, +and constitute about half of the volume. The remainder of the book is given +over to various discussions of the actor's art, of play construction, of +the new stage craft, of new movements in our theater, such as the +Washington Square Players, and several lighter essays in the satiric vein +which characterized the author's work when he was the dramatic critic of +the _New York Sun_. Unlike most volumes of criticisms, this one is +illustrated, the pictures of the productions described in the text +furnishing an additional historical record. At a time when the drama is +regaining its lost position of literary dignity it is particularly fitting +that dignified and intelligent criticism and discussion should also find +accompanying publication. + +_Toronto Saturday Night_: + + Mr. Eaton writes well and with dignity and + independence. His book should find favor with the more + serious students of the Drama of the Day. + +_Detroit Free Press_: + + This is one of the most interesting and also valuable + books on the modern drama that we have encountered in + that period popularly referred to as "a dog's age." Mr. + Eaton is a competent and well-esteemed critic. The book + is a record of the activities of the American stage + since 1910, down to the present. Mr. Eaton succinctly + restores the play to the memory, revisualizes the + actors, and puts the kernel of it into a nutshell for + us to ponder over and by which to correct our + impressions. + +_Large 12mo. About 420 pages, 10 full-page illustrations on Cameo Paper and +End Papers Net $2.00_ + +_Gilt top. 3/4 Maroon Turkey Morocco Net 6.50_ + + * * * * * + +_Four Plays of the Free Theater_ + +Francois de Curel's _The Fossils_ + +Jean Jullien's _The Serenade_ + +Georges de Porto-Riche's _Francoise' Luck_ + +Georges Ancey's _The Dupe_ + +_Translated with an introduction on Antoine and Theatre Libre by BARRETT H. +CLARK. Preface by BRIEUX, of the French Academy, and a Sonnet by EDMOND +ROSTAND._ + +_The Review of Reviews says_: + + "A lengthy introduction, which is a gem of condensed + information." + +_H. L. Mencken (in the Smart Set) says_: + + "Here we have, not only skilful playwriting, but also + sound literature." + +_Brander Matthews says_: + + "The book is welcome to all students of the modern + stage. It contains the fullest account of the + activities of Antoine's Free Theater to be found + anywhere--even in French." + +_The Chicago Tribune says_: + + "Mr. Clark's translations, with their accurate and + comprehensive prefaces, are necessary to anyone + interested in modern drama.... If the American reader + will forget Yankee notions of morality... if the reader + will assume the French point of view, this book will + prove a rarely valuable experience. Mr. Clark has done + this important task excellently." + +_Handsomely Bound. 12mo. Cloth Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +DRAMATIC LITERATURE + +_Contemporary French Dramatists_ + +By BARRETT H. CLARK + +_In "Contemporary French Dramatists" Mr. Barrett H. Clark, author of "The +Continental Drama of Today," "The British and American Drama of Today," +translator of "Four Plays of the Free Theater," and of various plays of +Donnay, Hervieu, Lemaître, Sardou, Lavedan, etc., has contributed the first +collection of studies on the modern French theater. Mr. Clark takes up the +chief dramatists of France beginning with the Théâtre-Libre: Curel, Brieux, +Hervieu, Lemaître, Lavedan, Donnay, Porto-Riche, Rostand, Bataille, +Bernstein, Capus, Flers, and Caillavet. The book contains numerous +quotations from the chief representative plays of each dramatist, a +separate chapter on "Characteristics" and the most complete bibliography to +be found anywhere._ + +_This book gives a study of contemporary drama in France which has been +more neglected than any other European country._ + +_Independent, New York_: + + "Almost indispensable to the student of the theater." + +_Boston Transcript_: + + "Mr. Clark's method of analyzing the works of the + Playwrights selected is simple and helpful. * * * As a + manual for reference or story, 'Contemporary French + Dramatists,' with its added bibliographical material, + will serve well its purpose." + +_Uniform with FOUR PLAYS. Handsomely bound._ + + _Cloth_ _Net, $1.75_ + _3/4 Maroon Turkey Morocco_ _Net, $5.00_ + + +_The Antigone of Sophocles_ + +By PROF. JOSEPH EDWARD HARRY + +_An acting version of this most perfect of all dramas. A scholarly work in +readable English. Especially adaptable for Colleges, Dramatic Societies, +etc._ + +_Post Express_, Rochester: + + "He has done his work well." "Professor Harry has + translated with a virile force that is almost + Shakespearean." "The difficult task of rendering the + choruses into English lyrical verse has been very + creditably accomplished." + +_Argonaut_, San Francisco: + + "Professor Harry is a competent translator not only + because of his classical knowledge, but also because of + a certain enthusiastic sympathy that shows itself in an + unfailing choice of words and expression." + +_North American_, Philadelphia: + + "Professor Harry, teacher of Greek in the Cincinnati + University, has written a new metrical translation of + the Antigone of Sophocles. The translation is of fine + dramatic quality." + +_Oregonian_, Portland: + + "A splendidly executed translation of the celebrated + Greek tragedy." + +_Herald_, Boston: + + "Scholars will not need to be urged to read this + noteworthy piece of literary work, and we hope that + many others who have no special scholarly interest will + be led to its perusal." + + _8vo. cloth. Dignified binding Net, $1.00_ + + * * * * * + +"_European Dramatists_" + +By ARCHIBALD HENDERSON + +_Author of_ "George Bernard Shaw: His Life and Works." + +_In the present work the famous dramatic critic and biographer of Shaw has +considered six representative dramatists outside of the United States, some +living, some dead--Strindberg, Ibsen, Maeterlinck, Wilde, Shaw, Barker, and +Schnitzler._ + +Velma Swanston Howard says: + + "Prof. Henderson's appraisal of Strindberg is certainly + the fairest, kindest and most impersonal that I have + yet seen. The author has that rare combination of + intellectual power and spiritual insight which casts a + clear, strong light upon all subjects under his + treatment." + +_Baltimore Evening Sun_: + + "Prof. Henderson's criticism is not only notable for + its understanding and good sense, but also for the + extraordinary range and accuracy of its information." + +Jeanette L. Gilder, in the _Chicago Tribune_: + + "Henderson is a writer who throws new light on old + subjects." + +_Chicago Record Herald_: + + "His essays in interpretation are welcome. Mr. + Henderson has a catholic spirit and writes without + parochial prejudice--a thing deplorably rare among + American critics of the present day. * * * One finds + that one agrees with Mr. Henderson's main contentions + and is eager to break a lance with him about minor + points, which is only a way of saying that he is + stimulating, that he strikes sparks. He knows his age + thoroughly and lives in it with eager sympathy and + understanding." + +_Providence Journal_: + + "Henderson has done his work, within its obvious + limitations, in an exceedingly competent manner. He has + the happy faculty of making his biographical treatment + interesting, combining the personal facts and a fairly + clear and entertaining portrait of the individual with + intelligent critical comment on his artistic work." + +_Photogravure frontispiece, handsomely printed and bound, large 12mo Net, +$2.00_ + + * * * * * + +_At Last You May Understand G. B. S._ + +Perhaps once in a generation a figure of commanding greatness appears, one +through whose life the history of his time may be read. There is but one +such man today. + +_George Bernard Shaw_ + +HIS LIFE AND WORKS + +A CRITICAL BIOGRAPHY (Authorized) + +By + +ARCHIBALD HENDERSON, M.A. Ph.D. + +Is virtually the story of the social, economic and æsthetic life of the +last twenty-five years. It is a sympathetic, yet independent interpretation +of the most potent individual force in society. Cultivated America will +find here the key to all that is baffling and elusive in Shaw; it is a +cinematographic picture of his mind with a background disclosing all the +formative influences that combined to produce this universal genius. + +_The press of the world has united in its praise; let us send you some of +the comments. It is a large demy 8vo volume cloth, gilt top, 628 pages, +with 35 full page illustrations in color, photogravure and halftone and +numerous pictures in the text._ + +_$5.00 Net_ + + * * * * * + +_The Changing Drama_ + +By ARCHIBALD HENDERSON, M.A. Ph.D. + +_Author of_ "European Dramatists," "George Bernard Shaw--His Life and +Work." Etc. + +A vital book, popular in style, cosmopolitan in tone, appraising the drama +of the past sixty years, its changes, contributions and tendencies. Has an +expression of the larger realities of the art and life of our time. + +_E. E. Hale_ in _The Dial_: "One of the most widely read dramatic critics +of our day; few know as well as he what is 'up' in the dramatic world, what +are the currents of present-day thought, what people are thinking, +dreaming, doing, or trying to do." + +_New York Times_: "Apt, happily allusive, finely informed essays on the +dramatists of our own time--his essay style is vigorous and pleasing." + +_Book News Monthly_: "Shows clear understanding of the evolution of form +and spirit, and the differentiation of the forces--spiritual, intellectual +and social--which are making the theatre what it is today... we can +recollect no book of recent times which has such contemporaneousness, yet +which regards the subject with such excellent perspective... almost +indispensable to the general student of drama... a book of rich perspective +and sound analysis. The style is simple and direct." + +_Geo. Middleton_ in _La Follette's_: "The best attempt to formulate the +tendencies which the drama is now taking in its evolutionary course." + +_Argonaut_: "Marked by insight, discernment and enthusiasm." + +_Large 12mo. Dignified binding Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_Short Plays_ + +By MARY MACMILLAN + +_To fill a long-felt want. All have been successfully presented. Suitable +for Women's Clubs, Girls' Schools, etc. While elaborate enough for big +presentation, they may be given very simply._ + +_Review of Reviews_: + + "Mary MacMillan offers 'SHORT PLAYS,' a collection of + pleasant one to three-act plays for women's clubs, + girls' schools, and home parlor production. Some are + pure comedies, others gentle satires on women's faults + and foibles. 'The Futurists,' a skit on a woman's club + in the year 1882, is highly amusing. 'Entr' Act' is a + charming trifle that brings two quarreling lovers + together through a ridiculous private theatrical. 'The + Ring' carries us gracefully back to the days of + Shakespeare; and 'The Shadowed Star,' the best of the + collection, is a Christmas Eve tragedy. The Star is + shadowed by our thoughtless inhumanity to those who + serve us and our forgetfulness of the needy. The Old + Woman, gone daft, who babbles in a kind of mongrel + Kiltartan, of the Shepherds, the Blessed Babe, of the + Fairies, rowan berries, roses and dancing, while her + daughter dies on Christmas Eve, is a splendid + characterization." + +_Boston Transcript_: + + "Those who consigned the writer of these plays to + solitude and prison fare evidently knew that 'needs + must' is a sharp stimulus to high powers. If we find + humor, gay or rich, if we find brilliant wit; if we + find constructive ability joined with dialogue which + moves like an arrow; if we find delicate and keen + characterization, with a touch of genius in the choice + of names; if we find poetic power which moves on easy + wing--the gentle jailers of the writer are justified, + and the gentle reader thanks their severity." + +_Salt Lake Tribune_: + + "The Plays are ten in number, all of goodly length. We + prophesy great things for this gifted dramatist." + +_Bookseller, News Dealer & Stationer_: + + "The dialogue is permeated with graceful satire, + snatches of wit, picturesque phraseology, and tender, + often exquisite, expressions of sentiment." + +_Handsomely Bound. 12mo. Cloth Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_More Short Plays_ + +BY MARY MacMILLAN + +Plays that act well may read well. Miss MacMillan's plays are good reading. +Nor is literary excellence a detriment to dramatic performance. They were +put on the stage before they were put into print. They differ slightly from +those in the former volume. Two of them, "The Pioneers," a story of the +settlement of the Ohio Valley, and "Honey," a little mountain girl +cotton-mill worker, are longer. The other six, "In Mendelesia," Parts I and +II, "The Dryad," "The Dress Rehearsal of Hamlet," "At the Church," and "His +Second Girl," contain the spirit of humor, something of subtlety, and +something of fantasy. + +_Brooklyn Daily Eagle_: "Mary MacMillan, whose first volume of short plays +proved that she possessed unusual gifts as a dramatist, has justified the +hopes of her friends in a second volume, 'More Short Plays,' which reveal +the author as the possessor of a charming literary style coupled with a +sure dramatic sense that never leads her idea astray.... In them all the +reader will find a rich and delicate charm, a bountiful endowment of humor +and wit, a penetrating knowledge of human nature, and a deft touch in the +drawing of character. They are delicately and sympathetically done and +their literary charm is undeniable." + +_Uniform with "Short Plays" Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_The Gift_ + +A POETIC DRAMA + +By MARGARET DOUGLAS ROGERS + +_A dramatic poem in two acts, treating in altogether new fashion the world +old story of Pandora, the first woman._ + +_New Haven Times Leader_: + + "Well written and attractive." + +_Evangelical Messenger_: + + "A very beautifully written portrayal of the old story + of Pandora." + +_Rochester Post Dispatch_: + + "There is much poetic feeling in the treatment of the + subject." + +_Grand Rapids Herald_: + + "THE GIFT, dealing with this ever interesting + mythological story, is a valuable addition to the + dramas of the day." + +_St. Xavier Calendar_: + + "The story of Pandora is so set down as to bring out + its stage possibilities. Told by Mrs. Rogers in + exquisite language." + +_Salt Lake Tribune_: + + "The tale is charmingly wrought and has possibilities + as a simple dramatic production, as well as being a + delightful morsel of light reading." + +_Cincinnati Enquirer_: + + "The love story is delightfully told and the dramatic + action of the play is swift and strong." + +_Buffalo Express_: + + "It is a delightful bit of fancy with a dramatic and + poetic setting." + +_Boston Woman's Journal_: + + "Epimetheus and Pandora and her box are charmingly + presented." + +_Worcester Gazette_: + + "It is absolutely refreshing to find a writer willing + to risk a venture harking back to the times of the + Muses and the other worthies of mythological fame. * * + * The story of Pandora's box told in verse by a woman. + It may be said it could not have been better written + had a representative of the one who only assisted at + the opening been responsible for the play." + +_Handsomely bound silk cloth Net, $1.00_ + + * * * * * + +_Comedies of Words and Other Plays_ + +BY ARTHUR SCHNITZLER + +TRANSLATED BY PIERRE LOVING + + {"_The Hour of Recognition_" + {"_Great Scenes_" + The contents are {"_The Festival of Bacchus_" + {"_His Helpmate_" + {"_Literature._" + +In his "Comedies of Words," Arthur Schnitzler, the great Austrian +Dramatist, has penetrated to newer and profounder regions of human +psychology. According to Schnitzler, the keenly compelling problems of +earth are: the adjustment of a man to one woman, a woman to one man, the +children to their parents, the artist to life, the individual to his most +cherished beliefs, and how can we accomplish this adjustment when, try as +we please, there is a destiny which sweeps our little plans away like +helpless chessmen from the board? Since the creation of Anatol, that +delightful toy philosopher, so popular in almost every theater of the +world, the great Physician-Dramatist has pushed on both as World-Dramatist +and reconnoiterer beyond the misty frontiers of man's conscious existence. +He has attempted in an artistic way to get beneath what Freud calls the +"Psychic Censor" which edits all our suppressed desires. Reading Schnitzler +is like going to school to Life itself! + +_Bound uniform with the S & K Dramatic Series, Net $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_Lucky Pehr_ + +By AUGUST STRINDBERG + +_Authorized Translation by Velma Swanston Howard. An allegorical drama in +five acts. Compared favorably to Barrie's "Peter Pan" and Maeterlinck's +"The Blue Bird."_ + +_Rochester Post Express_: + + Strindberg has written many plays which might be + described as realistic nightmares. But this remark does + not apply to "Lucky Pehr." * * * This drama is one of + the most favorable specimens of Strindberg's genius. + +_New York World_: + + "Pehr" is lucky because, having tested all things, he + finds that only love and duty are true. + +_New York Times_: + + "Lucky Pehr" clothes cynicism in real entertainment + instead of in gloom. And it has its surprises. Can this + be August Strindberg, who ends his drama so sweetly on + the note of the woman-soul, leading upward and on? + +_Worcester Gazette_: + +From a city of Ohio comes this product of Swedish fancy in most attractive +attire, attesting that the possibilities of dramatic art have not entirely +ceased in this age of vaudeville and moving pictures. A great sermon in +altruism is preached in these pages, which we would that millions might see +and hear. To those who think or would like to think, "Lucky Pehr" will +prove a most readable book. * * * An allegory, it is true, but so are +Æsop's Fables, the Parables of the Scriptures and many others of the most +effective lessons ever given. + +_Boston Globe_: + + A popular drama. * * * There is no doubt about the book + being a delightful companion in the library. In charm + of fancy and grace of imagery the story may not be + unfairly classed with "The Blue Bird" and "Peter Pan." + +_Photogravure frontispiece of Strindberg etched by Zorn. Also, a +reproduction of Velma Swanston Howard's authorization._ + +_Handsomely bound. Gilt top Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_Easter_ + +(A PLAY IN THREE ACTS) + +AND STORIES BY AUGUST STRINDBERG + +_Authorized translation by Velma Swanston Howard. In this work the author +reveals a broad tolerance, a rare poetic tenderness augmented by an almost +divine understanding of human frailties as marking certain natural stages +in evolution of the soul._ + +_Louisville Courier-Journal_: + + Here is a major key of cheerfulness and idealism--a + relief to a reader who has passed through some of the + author's morbid pages. * * * Some critics find in this + play (Easter) less of the thrust of a distinctive art + than is found in the author's more lugubrious dramas. + There is indeed less sting in it. Nevertheless it has a + nobler tone. It more ably fulfills the purpose of good + drama--the chastening of the spectators' hearts through + their participation in the suffering of the dramatic + personages. There is in the play a mystical exaltation, + a belief and trust in good and its power to embrace all + in its beneficence, to bring all confusion to harmony. + +_The Nation_: + + Those who like the variety of symbolism which + Maeterlinck has often employed--most notably in the + "Bluebird"--will turn with pleasure to the short + stories of Strindberg which Mrs. Howard has included in + her volume. * * * They are one and all diverting on + account of the author's facility in dealing with + fanciful details. + +_Bookseller_: + + "Easter" is a play of six characters illustrative of + human frailties and the effect of the divine power of + tolerance and charity. * * * There is a symbolism, a + poetic quality, a spiritual insight in the author's + work that make a direct appeal to the cultured. * * * + +_The Dial_: + + One play from his (Strindberg's) third, or symbolistic + period stands almost alone. This is "Easter." There is + a sweet, sane, life-giving spirit about it. + +_Photogravure frontispiece of Strindberg etched by Zorn. Also, a +reproduction of Velma Swanston Howard's authorization._ + + _Handsomely bound. Gilt top Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_The Hamlet Problem and Its Solution_ + +By EMERSON VENABLE + +_The tragedy of Hamlet has never been adequately interpreted. Two hundred +years of critical discussion has not sufficed to reconcile conflicting +impressions regarding the scope of Shakespeare's design in this, the first +of his great philosophic tragedies. We believe that all those students who +are interested in the study of Shakespeare will find this volume of great +value._ + +_The Louisville Courier-Journal_: + + "Mr. Venable's Hamlet is a 'protagonist of a drama of + triumphant moral achievement.' He rises through the + play from an elected agent of vengeance to a man + gravely impressed with 'an imperative sense of moral + obligation, tragic in its depth, felt toward the + world.'" + +E. H. Sothern: + + "Your ideas of Hamlet so entirely agree with my own + that the book has been a real delight to me. I have + always had exactly this feeling about the character of + Hamlet. I think you have wiped away a great many + cobwebs, and I believe your book will prove to be most + convincing to many people who may yet be a trifle in + the dark." + +_The Book News Monthly_: + + "Mr. Venable is the latest critic to apply himself to + the 'Hamlet' problem, and he offers a solution in an + admirably written little book which is sure to attract + readers. Undeterred by the formidable names of Goethe + and Coleridge, Mr. Venable pronounces untenable the + theories which those great authors propounded to + account for the extraordinary figure of the Prince of + Denmark. * * * Mr. Venable looks in another direction + for the solution of the problem. * * * The solution + offered by the author is just the reverse of that + proposed by Goethe. * * * From Mr. Venable's viewpoint + the key to 'Hamlet' is found in the famous soliloquies, + and his book is based upon a close study of those + utterances which bring us within the portals of the + soul of the real Hamlet. The reader with an open mind + will find in Mr. Venable a writer whose breadth of view + and searching thought gives weight to this competent + study of the most interesting of Shakespearean + problems." + +_16mo. Silk cloth Net, $1.00_ + + * * * * * + +_Portmanteau Plays_ + +BY STUART WALKER + +Edited and with an Introduction by + +EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT + +This volume contains four One Act Plays by the inventor and director of the +Portmanteau Theater. They are all included in the regular repertory of the +Theater and the four contained in this volume comprise in themselves an +evening's bill. + +There is also an Introduction by Edward Hale Bierstadt on the Portmanteau +Theater in theory and practice. + +The book is illustrated by pictures taken from actual presentations of the +plays. + +The first play, the "_Trimplet_," deals with the search for a certain magic +thing called a trimplet which can cure all the ills of whoever finds it. +The search and the finding constitute the action of the piece. + +Second play, "_Six who Pass While the Lentils Boil_" is perhaps the most +popular in Mr. Walker's repertory. The story is of a Queen who, having +stepped on the ring-toe of the King's great-aunt, is condemned to die +before the clock strikes twelve. The Six who pass the pot in which boil the +lentils are on their way to the execution. + +Next comes "_Nevertheless_," which tells of a burglar who oddly enough +reaches regeneration through two children and a dictionary. + +And last of all is the "_Medicine-Show_," which is a character study +situated on the banks of the Mississippi. One does not see either the Show +or the Mississippi, but the characters are so all sufficient that one does +not miss the others. + +All of these plays are fanciful--symbolic if you like--but all of them have +a very distinct raison d'être in themselves, quite apart from any ulterior +meaning. + +With Mr. Walker it is always "the story first," and herein he is at one +with Lord Dunsany and others of his ilk. The plays have body, force, and +beauty always; and if the reader desires to read in anything else surely +that is his privilege. + +Each play, and even the Theater itself has a prologue, and with the help of +these one is enabled to pass from one charming tale to the next without a +break in the continuity. + +_With five full-page illustrations on cameo paper._ + +_12mo. Silk cloth $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_The Truth About The Theater_ + +_Anonymous_ + +Precisely what the title indicates--facts as they are, plain and +unmistakable without veneer of any sort. It goes directly to the heart of +the whole matter. Behind the writer of it--who is one of the best known +theatrical men in New York--are long years of experience. He recites what +he knows, what he has seen, and his quiet, calm, authoritative account of +conditions as they are is without adornment, excuse or exaggeration. It is +intended to be helpful to those who want the facts, and for them it will +prove of immeasurable value. + +"The Truth About the Theater," in brief, lifts the curtain on the American +stage. It leaves no phase of the subject untouched. To those who are +ambitious to serve the theater, either as players or as playwrights, or, +again, in some managerial capacity, the book is invaluable. To those, too, +who would know more about the theater that they may come to some fair +estimate of the worth of the innumerable theories nowadays advanced, the +book will again prove its value. + +_Net $1.00_ + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of More Portmanteau Plays, by Stuart Walker + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE PORTMANTEAU PLAYS *** + +***** This file should be named 37967-8.txt or 37967-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/6/37967/ + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. 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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: More Portmanteau Plays + +Author: Stuart Walker + +Editor: Edward Hale Bierstadt + +Release Date: November 10, 2011 [EBook #37967] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE PORTMANTEAU PLAYS *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Kentuckiana Digital Library.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p><a name="front" id="front"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/ill-003.jpg" width="650" height="403" alt="Stuart Walker with the Working Model of his Portmanteau +Theatre" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Stuart Walker with the Working Model of his Portmanteau +Theatre</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>MORE PORTMANTEAU PLAYS</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>STUART WALKER</h2> + +<h4>Author of Portmanteau Plays</h4> + +<h4>Edited, and with an Introduction by</h4> + +<h2>EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/ill-004.jpg" width="150" height="81" alt="ILLUSTRATED" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ILLUSTRATED</span> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +CINCINNATI<br /> +STEWART & KIDD COMPANY<br /> +1919<br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h4>STEWART &. KIDD DRAMATIC SERIES</h4> + +<h3>The Portmanteau Plays</h3> + +<h4>By Stuart Walker</h4> + +<p class="center">Edited and with an Introduction by</p> + +<p class="center">Edward Hale Bierstadt</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Vol. 1</span>—Portmanteau Plays</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Introduction<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Trimplet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nevertheless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Six Who Pass While the Lintels Boil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Medicine Show<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Vol. 2</span>—More Portmanteau Plays</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Introduction<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Very Naked Boy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jonathan Makes a Wish<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Vol. 3</span>—Portmanteau Adaptations</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Introduction<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gammer Gurton's Needle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Birthday of the Infanta<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Seventeen"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Each of the above three volumes handsomely bound and illustrated. Per +volume net $1.75</i></p> + + +<h4>STEWART & KIDD CO., PUBLISHERS</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Stuart Walker with the Working Model of +His Portmanteau Theatre</span> <span class="tocnum"><i><a href="#front">Frontispiece</a></i></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="tocnum">FACING PAGE</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree, Act III</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#p34i'>34</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree, Act III</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#p63i'>63</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Very Naked Boy</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#p80i'>80</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Jonathan Makes a Wish, Act I</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#p130i'>130</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Jonathan Makes a Wish, Act II</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#p149i'>149</a></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> +<h2>INTRODUCTION</h2> + + +<p>During the period which has elapsed between the publication of <i>Portmanteau +Plays</i>, and that of the present volume our country entered upon the +greatest war in history, and emerged victorious. It is far too early to +estimate what effect that war has had or may have upon all art in general, +and upon the dramatic and theatric arts in particular, but there is every +indication that the curtain is about to rise on the great romantic revival +which we have watched and waited for, and of which Stuart Walker has been +one of the major prophets.</p> + +<p>During the actual period of the war many of the creative and interpretative +artists of the theater were engaged either directly in army work or in one +of its auxiliary branches. It is amusing to recall that the present writer +met Schuyler Ladd serving as Mess Sergeant for a Base Hospital in France, +Alexander Wollcott, late dramatic critic of the New York <i>Times</i>, attached +to the <i>Stars and Stripes</i> in Paris, and Douglas Stuart, the London +producer, in an English hospital at Etretat, the while he himself was +serving as an enlisted man on the staff of the same hospital. These are +minor instances, but when they have been multiplied several hundred times +one begins to see how closely the actor, the critic, and the producer were +involved in the struggle. Again the problem of providing proper +entertainment for the troops was, and still is, a serious one. In the great +number of cases it seems highly probable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> that the entertainment along such +lines done by the men themselves was far more effective than that provided +by outside organizations. More than once, however, it appeared to the +writer that here was a field especially suited to the <i>Portmanteau Theater</i> +and to its repertory. The question of transportation, always a crucial +point with such a venture, was no more difficult than that presented by +many companies already in the field, and doing immensely inferior work. My +return to America put me in possession of the facts of the matter, and +without desiring in any way to cast blame, much less to indict, or to +emphasize unduly a relatively unimportant point, it seems only fitting that +there should be included in this record the reasons for what has seemed to +many of us a lost opportunity. They are at least much more brief than the +apologia which precedes them.</p> + +<p>The <i>Portmanteau Theater</i>, its repertory of forty-eight plays, and its +trained company, was offered for war purposes under the following +conditions: no royalty was to be paid for any of the plays, no salary was +to be paid Mr. Walker; the company was to go wherever sent, whether in or +out of shell fire, in France or in England; the only stipulation being that +the members of the company should be remunerated at the same rate paid an +enlisted man in the United States army, and that the principal members +should receive the pay of subalterns. On the whole an arrangement so +generous that it is almost absurd. To this offer the Y. M. C. A. turned a +deaf ear. Their attention was concentrated on vaudeville at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span> moment, +and with one hand they covered their eyes while with the other they +clutched their purse strings. The War Camp Community Service could see no +way in which the Theater could function for the men either at home or +abroad. The <i>Portmanteau</i> was, in a word, too "high-brow" a venture for +them. The reader is referred to the Appendix of this volume showing the +repertory in use at that time. Another official contented himself with the +statement that the problem of transportation involved rendered the project +impracticable. The matter is too lengthy to discuss here, but the writer, +who was able to observe the situation at first hand, knows this to be an +error. The navy then asked for plans and estimates so that a number of +<i>Portmanteau Theaters</i> might be constructed aboard the ships. Mr. Walker +offered to put all his patents at the complete disposal of the Navy +Department, and himself was ready to draw plans and make suggestions. The +navy approved the idea, and with sublime assurance requested Mr. Walker to +proceed with the work of construction—at his own expense. It was +impossible; the money could not be afforded, and the venture was abandoned. +It is therefore very evident that there was an opportunity, and that that +opportunity was lost; but it was not the <i>Portmanteau</i> which lost it. At +any rate we are left free to take up the history of Mr. Walker's theater +and his plays at the point where we left off in the first book of the +series.</p> + +<p>The close of the highly successful season at the <i>Princess Theater</i> in New +York, the winter of 1915-1916, was followed by twelve weeks on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span> road, +three of which were spent in Chicago, and then by thirteen weeks in +Indianapolis. It was in this last city that the production of the +adaptation of Booth Tarkington's book, "Seventeen," changed all plans by +its instant popularity. On the way East, a stop was made in Chicago, and +before that city had time to do much more than voice its enthusiasm, the +company left for New York. During the fall of 1917 <i>Seventeen</i> was played +regularly, with the addition of some special performances of the repertory. +<i>Seventeen</i> was played in New York for two hundred and fifty-eight +performances (Chicago had already had one hundred), and the special +performances of <i>The Book of Job</i> were renewed in the spring. It was during +the next fall, that of 1918, that a second <i>Seventeen</i> company was sent out +on the road. That company is still out, the total playing time for the work +since its production being (April, 1919) just one hundred and four weeks. +The next summer, 1918, included a repertory season of thirteen weeks, again +at Indianapolis, and four in Cincinnati, while the following winter, just +past, chimed ten weeks of repertory at the <i>Punch and Judy Theater</i> in New +York. To sum up in brief then—Mr. Walker has, beginning in the spring of +1916 and ending in the spring of 1919, played seventy-six weeks of +repertory, in which he has produced forty-eight plays. This does not +include the <i>Seventeen</i> run which, as I have said, totals one hundred and +four weeks to date. It is safe to claim that this represents as successful +repertory work as has been done in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span> United States so far. We shall, +however, return to that presently.</p> + +<p>In the fall of 1917, so important to the Portmanteau company, a change of +management was instituted, by which the following staff came into control: +Stage Director—Gregory Kelly: Stage Manager—Morgan Farley: Musical +Director—Michel Bernstein: Manager—Harold Holstein: Press +Representative—Alta May Coleman: Treasurer—Walter Herzbrun. The changes +were excellent, and were thoroughly justified in their results. An +arrangement was made with the Shuberts, whereby booking was greatly +facilitated, and with its structure thus reinforced, the Theater was in an +excellent position to "carry on."</p> + +<p>It may be remembered by those who read the first book of the <i>Portmanteau +Series</i> that in my introduction I placed the greater portion of my emphasis +on the theatrical side; that is, the <i>Portmanteau</i> as a portable theater +rather than as a repertory company. It is my intention here to reverse the +process, and this for two reasons. First: Mr. Walker has in the last two +years by no means confined himself to the <i>Portmanteau</i> stage. The recent +run at the <i>Punch and Judy Theater</i> in New York was upon a full size stage, +and this was not at all an exception. The <i>Portmanteau</i> was, and is, an +idea, but that idea has no very definite connection with repertory as such. +There is no longer the need, in this particular instance, that there once +was, for the invariable use of the <i>Portmanteau</i>, except as convenience +requires.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span> At the very beginning, when the company often played for private +persons, the portable stage was indispensable. But so thoroughly did the +<i>Portmanteau</i> idea justify itself that from being a crutch it grew into a +handy staff, always valuable, but no longer essential. All that has been +said of it, and of its possibilities, is quite as true today as ever it +was, but now having proved his original thesis, if so it may be called, Mr. +Walker may well be content to work out the future gradually and in his own +way. Second: the repertory idea is certainly of infinitely more importance +than any theatrical device or contrivance, however interesting and valuable +such a departure may be in itself. As to any difference in the acting +necessitated by the change from a small to a large stage that amounts to +little. It is entirely a difference in quality, an ability to temper the +interpretation to the surroundings, and as such would apply as readily to +the staging and setting of a play as to the acting itself. On a large stage +one might take three steps to convey an impression where on a small stage +one step would produce the same effect. An arch or pylon would obviously +have to be of greater proportions on a large stage than on a small one. Yet +in both these instances the ultimate effect is precisely the same. Let us +turn then to a consideration of the Portmanteau, not as a theater, but as a +repertory company.</p> + +<p>There is certainly no space here, and just as certainly no necessity, for +dwelling long upon the prime importance of repertory. Several excellent +books have been written on that absorbing subject,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span> and we may surely take +for granted that which we know beyond all doubt to be the truth, namely, +that repertory as opposed to the "long run" and to the "star" system is the +ultimate solution of a most vexatious and perplexing problem—how to change +the modern theater from an industry to an art. The disadvantages of the +present mode of procedure are too evident to call for recapitulation; +witness the results obtained. On the other hand there can be no question +that there is a practicable and simple panacea in repertory; see what has +been done by the Abbey company in Dublin, by Miss Horniman's players in +Manchester, by the <i>Scottish Repertory Theater</i>, on a smaller scale, in +Glasgow, by John Drinkwater's repertory theater in Birmingham, concerning +which I have, unfortunately, no exact data, but which I understand is doing +remarkable work with distinct success, and by the Portmanteau company in +the United States. It would be well also to include Charles Frohman's +season at the <i>Duke of York's Repertory Theater</i> in London; in fact the +inclusion of this seventeen weeks' season would be inevitable. Where the +experiment has failed it has failed for reasons which did not, in any way, +shape or manner, invalidate the principle at stake. Thus, to cite the great +example on our own side of the water, the <i>New Theater</i> was doomed to +failure from the very start in the fact that it was born crippled. It may +be restated to advantage, just here, that from the spring of 1916 to the +spring of 1919, a period of three years, Mr. Walker has produced +forty-eight plays, has given seventy-six weeks of repertory, and has had a +nearly unbroken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span> run of one hundred and four weeks with one play which has +been commercially successful beyond the others. Of the forty-eight plays +produced during this time eighteen had never been seen before on any stage; +four were entirely new to America (except for a possible itinerant amateur +performance); and twenty-six were revivals, modern, semi-modern, and +classical. It is my belief that this record will take a creditable position +in the history of American repertory. Abroad, however, its place is less +secure, but even here the <i>Portmanteau</i> is by no means snowed under.</p> + +<p>In the other great English speaking country there are four outstanding +examples of repertory work, as has already been stated. On the Continent +the situation is entirely different; there is no "problem" there, for the +repertory theater has long been an established fact. France, in the +<i>Comedié-Française</i>, and Germany, in several of her theaters before the +war, merely provide us with a criterion. In Great Britain, however, and in +America, we are in the process of building and adjusting, so that the +examples of one will reasonably affect the other. At the risk of being +misunderstood we shall pause long enough to call attention to the <i>Irving +Place Theatre</i>,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> of New York, a German house supporting German plays, and +attended very largely by a German clientele, but notwithstanding all this a +repertory theater of standing, and of some distinction, from which we might +learn several useful lessons. However, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span> is with the Anglo-American stage +that we have to do at the moment.</p> + +<p>Doubtless, first in importance comes the Abbey Theater Company of Dublin. +From December, 1905, to December, 1912, there were produced at the <i>Abbey +Theater</i> (I am unfortunately unable to include the several important tours +made) seventy-four plays, of which seven were translations. Of the rest but +few were revivals, as the history of the Irish literary movement will show. +They were plays written especially for the theater, for particular +audiences, and to achieve definite purpose as propaganda. Moreover, when +the <i>Abbey</i> was tottering on the brink of failure, Miss Horniman came to +the rescue with a substantial subsidy which enabled the theater not only to +proceed, but finally to establish itself on a sound running basis. Mr. +Walker's company has had to fight its own way from the very start.</p> + +<p>In Manchester, Miss Horniman's own repertory company at the <i>Midland +Theater</i> and finally at the <i>Gaiety</i> has been distinctly and brilliantly +successful. In a period of a little more than two years there were produced +fifty-five plays; twenty-eight new, seventeen revivals of modern English +plays, five modern translations, and five classics. This is a repertory as +well balanced as it is wide. In 1910, however, there was inaugurated the +practise of producing each play for a run of one week, so that from that +time on the theater was open to the criticism of being not a repertory in +the fullest sense of the term, but a short run theater. But for that +matter, I do not think that there is a repertory theater either in England +or in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span> America which fulfills the ideal conditions set down by William +Archer who had in mind, as he wrote, the repertory theater of the +Continent.</p> + +<p>"When we speak of a repertory, we mean a number of plays always ready for +performance, with nothing more than a 'run through' rehearsal, which, +therefore, can be, and are, acted in such alternation that three, four or +five different plays may be given in the course of a week. New plays are +from time to time added to the repertory, and those of them which succeed +may be performed fifty, seventy, a hundred times, or even more, in the +course of one season; but no play is ever performed more than two or three +times in uninterrupted succession."<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<p>This applies exactly to the <i>Comedié-Française</i>, which, in the year 1909, +presented one hundred and fifteen plays, eighteen of which were performed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span> +for the first time, the remainder being a part of the regular body of the +repertory of that theater. In the first decade of the present century there +were no less than two hundred and eighty-two plays added to the repertory +of the <i>Comedié</i>. It may be of service to remember, however, that the +<i>Comedié-Française</i> was established by royal decree in 1680. If the <i>Globe +Theater</i> of Shakespeare's day had lived and prospered up to the present we +might have an example to match that of France.</p> + +<p>It is probable that if one were to use the phrase "repertory in America" +the wise ones of the theater would raise their eye-brows stiffly and +remark, "There is none." That would be nearly true, but not altogether so. +It is my desire here to sketch in brief the early beginnings of what has +been termed the "independent theater" movement,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> from which repertory in +this country unquestionably grew, up to the time of the establishment of +the "little theaters" which now dot the country, and into which movement +that of the "independent theater" eventually merged.</p> + +<p>In 1887 there was inaugurated by A. M. Palmer at the <i>Madison Square +Theater</i>, of which he was manager at that time, a series of "author's +matinées" which appear to have been in some sense try-outs for a possible +repertory season. Only three plays were produced, however, before Mr. +Palmer decided against the scheme as impracticable. It is interesting to +note that these three plays were all by American authors—Howells, +Matthews, and Lathrop. The attempt was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[Pg xvi]</a></span> actually not repertory in the +strict sense, but it undoubtedly marks a tendency, slight, but evident, to +incline in the right direction.</p> + +<p>Some four years later, in the fall of 1891, a Mr. McDowell, son of General +McDowell of Civil War fame, started the <i>Theater of Arts and Letters</i> with +the idea of bringing literature and the drama into closer relationship. +Five plays were produced, and among the names of the authors (again they +were all natives) one finds several which have since become famous. +Commercially, the venture was a total failure, and the authors did not even +collect their full royalties. A short tour was made with several of the +more successful plays, one by Clyde Fitch (a one-act which was afterwards +expanded into <i>The Moth and the Flame</i>), one by Richard Harding Davis, and +one by Brander Matthews. All three of these were one-act. American authors +were willing enough to write plays, but they apparently could not succeed, +except in isolated instances, in writing good ones. There was evidently an +utter dearth of suitable material. Nevertheless, when foreign plays were +put on no better fortune ensued, unless they represented the old school of +pseudo melodrama, and farce adapted from the French and German, such as +Augustin Daly delighted in. Daly too had discovered that to encourage the +American playwright was to court disaster.</p> + +<p>In 1897 <i>The Criterion</i>, a New York review of rather eccentric merit, +endeavored to establish the <i>Criterion Independent Theater</i> modeled on the +<i>Théâtre-Libre</i> of Antoine. A company was recruited, headed by E. J. +Henley, and performances<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</a></span> were given at first the <i>Madison Square Theater</i>, +and then the <i>Berkeley Lyceum</i>. It was frankly intended that the appeal +should be to a small, select audience, and, in spite of the jeers of the +press, five plays were produced—one Norwegian, one Italian, one French, +one Spanish, and one American. A glance through the list shows us that the +American play, by Augustus Thomas, is the only one which has not since +entered into the permanent literature of the stage. Internal differences, +and imperfect rehearsals combined to overthrow the venture which, after one +season, was abandoned. The success of the last production, however, <i>El +Gran Galeoto</i>, inspired Mr. John Blair to produce Ibsen's <i>Ghosts</i> with +Miss Mary Shaw at the <i>Carnegie Lyceum</i> in 1899. From this sprang <i>The +Independent Theater</i>, generously backed financially by Mr. George Peabody +Eustis of Washington.</p> + +<p>The list of the patrons of this theater reads like a chapter from "Who's +Who." Many of the men associated with the plan gave their services free or +at a nominal cost. The three persons more directly responsible for the +artistic side of the work were Charles Henry Meltzer, John Blair, and +Vaughan Kester, while among the patrons were W. D. Howells, Bronson Howard, +E. C. Stedman, E. H. Sothern, Charles and Daniel Frohman, and Sir Henry +Irving. Six plays were given, this time none of them of American origin. +The press and critics were most bitter in their denunciation of these +foreign importations, as they had been on the previous occasion. There was, +however, on the part of the audiences a definite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</a></span> tendency to let drop the +scales from their eyes, and to awake to the new forces in the drama and the +theater as represented by Ibsen, Hervieu, the <i>Théâtre-Libre</i>, and the +<i>Independent Theater</i>. But in spite of all this, one season's work saw the +conclusion of the project. A part of the repertory was given in other +cities, notably Boston and Washington, but, though a very real interest was +aroused, it was not sufficient to permit the company to continue. About two +thousand dollars represented the deficit at the end of the season; by no +means a discreditable balance, albeit on the wrong side of the ledger, when +one considers the circumstances. The actual results of the work are summed +up in a privately printed pamphlet written by Mr. Meltzer than whom no one +was more closely in touch with the whole independent movement.</p> + +<p>"What have the American 'Independents' achieved by their efforts?</p> + +<p>"They have succeeded, thanks to Mr. George Peabody Eustis, the general +manager of the scheme, in giving twenty-two performances of plays +recognized everywhere abroad as characteristic, interesting, and literary.</p> + +<p>"They have extended the 'Independent' movement from New York to Boston and +Washington.</p> + +<p>"They have encouraged at least one 'regular' manager to announce the +production next season of an Ibsen play.</p> + +<p>"They have revived discussion of the general tendencies of modern drama.</p> + +<p>"They have interested, and occasionally charmed, an intelligent minority of +playgoers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">[Pg xix]</a></span> who have grown weary of the rank insipidity, vulgarity, and +improbability of current drama.</p> + +<p>"They have bored, angered, and distressed a less intelligent majority of +playgoers and critics.</p> + +<p>"They have discovered at least one new actress of unusual worth.</p> + +<p>"They have prepared the way, at a by no means inconsiderable cost of time, +thought, and money, for future, and perhaps, more prosperous movements +aiming at the reform of the American stage."</p> + +<p>Coming at the time it did, sponsored by the best minds in America, and +worked to its conclusion by whole hearted enthusiasts, <i>The Independent +Theater</i> did, beyond all doubt, have a very vitalizing effect on both the +stage and the drama of this country. The next step, perhaps the climactic +one of the series, was longer in coming (1909).</p> + +<p>The <i>New Theater</i> has been our greatest attempt and our greatest failure. +The details of these two seasons have been placed before the public so many +times that there is no necessity for doing more here than suggesting a +broad outline. If the enterprise had, from its very inception, been in the +hands of capable men who knew their work, instead of being handicapped by +wealthy amateurs the history of a failure might never have been written. In +its first season <i>The New Theater</i> presented thirteen plays at intervals of +a fortnight. Of these, four were classics, three were original works by +native authors, and two by contemporary British dramatists. During the +second season, at the end of which the idea was given up and the <i>New +Theater</i> abandoned, eleven<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">[Pg xx]</a></span> plays were produced; six of these were of +British origin, semi-modern; one was a classic; three were Belgian, and one +was American. I have counted in this season, two plays produced the season +before, the only revivals. Altogether then, twenty-two plays were given, +only five of which can be considered as home products. Mr. Ames, the +Director, was balked at every turn by the combined forces of Fifth Avenue +and Wall Street, while the outrageous and impossible construction of the +theater itself proved an insurmountable handicap. In addition it was now +found almost impossible to induce the American dramatist to turn from the +great profits of the long run Broadway theaters to the acceptance of one +hundred and fifty dollars a performance at the <i>New Theater</i>. There was +something to be said on both sides. The <i>New Theater</i> was a splendid and +costly attempt, and it taught us several invaluable lessons, chief among +them the occasional unimportance of money.</p> + +<p>Probably next in order comes the short repertory of Miss Grace George at +the <i>Playhouse</i> in 1915 and 1917. This lasted for about one season and a +half, and, while there was promise of continuation, the project was finally +abandoned. It is only fair to say that Miss George worked under the +peculiar disadvantage of entire lack of sympathy, and indeed, open +antagonism as well, on the part of several of her most important confréres. +The real trouble seemed to be one of those that affected the <i>New Theater</i>, +that is, Miss George was totally unable to secure American plays for her +purposes. In the period of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxi" id="Page_xxi">[Pg xxi]</a></span> her project she produced seven plays; five the +first year, and two the next. Of these, five were modern British plays, one +was a translation from the French, and one was semi-modern American. Again +it will be observed that American plays were simply not forthcoming, a +condition widely different from that obtaining during the nineties when the +<i>Theater of Arts and Letters</i>, and the <i>Criterion Independent</i> held their +short sway. Miss George's effort was distinctly worth while, but in the end +there was added only another gravestone to the cemetery of buried hopes.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> + +<p>With the advent of the "little theater" movement, from about 1905, there +are many small companies and theaters which can, in a broad sense, fairly +be termed repertory. To discuss any number of them would require a book in +itself, and the reader is referred to "<i>The Insurgent Theater</i>" by +Professor Dickenson as the work most nearly fulfilling this need. Probably +the <i>Washington Square Players</i> of New York are typical, more or less, of +them all, and their repertory for two years is given in the Appendix. Aside +from the natural conditions resulting from the war, one reason of their +failure seems to have been their pernicious desire to be "different" at any +cost. In spite of their excellent work they ultimately found that cost to +be prohibitive, but the discovery was made too late.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> The majority of the +little theaters are, however, too entirely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxii" id="Page_xxii">[Pg xxii]</a></span> provincial in their appeal to +warrant an assumption of any great influence, in spite of their vital and +unquestionable importance.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>It will be observed that in speaking of Stuart Walker's work I have used +the phrase repertory <i>company</i>, not, repertory <i>theater</i>. That is, of +course, part of the secret. A theater anchored to one spot is obviously at +a disadvantage. It cannot seek its audience, but must sit with what +patience and capital it has at its disposal, and wait for the audience to +come to it. With a touring company the odds are more even. An unsuccessful +month in one city may be made up by a successful one in another. The type +of play that captivates the west may not go at all in the east, and the +other way about. There are plays now on the road, and which have been there +literally for years, doing excellent business, which have never ventured to +storm the very rocky coast bounding New York. And there are plays which +have had crowded houses in the metropolis which have slumped, and +deservedly so, most dismally when they were taken out where audiences were +possessed of a clearer vision. Hence it is easy to see that Mr. Walker, +playing in both the east and the west, in small cities and in large ones, +can do what the <i>New Theater</i> and the <i>Playhouse</i> could not do. True, they +could send their companies out on tour, but the <i>New Theater</i> with its huge +stage and panoramic scenery could find but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxiii" id="Page_xxiii">[Pg xxiii]</a></span> few theaters which could house +it, and the whole idea of both that and Miss George's company was a fixed +repertory theater. Indeed in both of them the faults of the "star" system +were never wholly absent.</p> + +<p>The facts that I have been able to give here seem to point to but one +conclusion. That is, that Stuart Walker's repertory company stands +numerically on a par with anything else of the kind ever attempted in the +United States, and that it is not unworthy of comparison with the best +repertory work in England. It must be borne in mind that, in some measure, +all this has been done on a fairly small scale. There has not been the +money at hand to do it otherwise, nor has there been the necessity. The +company may be compared better with the <i>Gaiety</i> of Manchester than with +the <i>Duke of York's Theater</i>. And too, as with the <i>Gaiety</i>, many of the +players have been relatively unknown before their advent on the +<i>Portmanteau</i> stage. It is the definite mission, or some part of it at any +rate, of the repertory company to encourage new dramatists, new players, +and new stage effects when such encouragement is advisable. To be merely +different is by no means to be worth while.</p> + +<p>The three plays included in this volume have all been presented +successfully both in the east and in the west. The two long plays—<i>The +Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree</i> and <i>Jonathan Makes a Wish</i>—both have the +distinction of being popular with audiences and unpopular with critics, a +condition of affairs not as unique as it might seem. As for the third, <i>The +Very Naked Boy</i>, it is a thoroughly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxiv" id="Page_xxiv">[Pg xxiv]</a></span> delightful trifle, unimportant as +drama, yet very perfect in itself, and has been liked by nearly everyone. +Combining, as it does, comedy and sentiment, it possesses all the elements +that go to make for success with the average audience.</p> + +<p><i>The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree</i> is founded on an old Japanese legend, +how old no one knows. Mr. Walker became interested in Japanese folk-lore +through a collection of ballads; it is amusing to observe how his fondness +for ballads has followed him through all his work, and this play was the +result. From the first it went well. Apparently no one could resist the +pathos of the intensely human story which culminated in so tragic a form. +One might think that the appeal in a play of this type, written by an +author so well known as an artist in stagecraft, would be largely visual. +While that appeal is unquestionably there in abundance, the real essence of +the tale is the vitally human quality of its characters. One is indeed +inclined to believe that we take our pleasures sadly, when he has seen an +audience quite dissolved in tears at a performance of this play, and all +the while enjoying themselves unutterably. It is a drama of imagination and +of emotion. The cold, hard, and more often than not deceiving light of the +intellect plays but a small part. It is the human heart with its passions, +its fears, its regrets, and its aspirations that concerns us here; not the +human mind with its essentially microcosmic point of view, and its petty, +festering egoism. The play is beautiful because it is true, and equally it +is true because it is beautiful. It seems to me quite the best and +soundest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxv" id="Page_xxv">[Pg xxv]</a></span> piece of work Mr. Walker has done so far, though he himself +prefers his later play, <i>Jonathan Makes a Wish</i>.</p> + +<p>This last play is more realistic—stupid term!—than anything of a serious +nature that the author has so far attempted. It is, however, the realism of +Barrie rather than that of Brieux, and this at any rate is consoling. The +first act is extraordinary, splendid in thought, in technique, and in +execution. Therein lies the trouble, if trouble there be. Neither of the +two acts following can reach the level of the first, and with the opening +of the second act the play gradually, though hardly perceptibly, declines, +not in interest, but in strength. The transposition of the character of the +Tramp from an easy going good nature in the first act to that of a Dickens +villain in the second may require explanation. The last sensation the boy +has is that of the blow on his head, and his last visualization is that of +the Tramp's face bending over him. Thus, in his delirium, the two would +inevitably be associated. The story of the delirium, the second act, is +peculiarly well done. One feels the slight haziness of outline, the great +consequence of actually inconsequential events, the morbid terror lurking +always in the near background, which are a very part and parcel of that +strange psychological condition which is here made to play a spiritual +part. The last act suffers for want of material. In reality, all that is +necessary is to wind up the play speedily and happily. It seems probable +that the introduction of the deliciously charming Frenchwoman, played so +delightfully by Margaret Mower, would give<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxvi" id="Page_xxvi">[Pg xxvi]</a></span> the needed color and substance +to this portion. As it is, one feels a little something lacking—but only a +little. That the play is, as one pseudo-critic remarked, an argument in +favor of infant playwrights, is too absurd to discuss. If it argues at all, +it is that the relationship between the child world and the adult must be +democratic, not tyrannic, and that flowers grow, like weeds, only when they +are encouraged, not trod upon. The play is interesting, true, and +imaginative to a degree; if it is not wholly satisfactory, it but partakes +of the faults of virtue. Audiences, young, old, metropolitan and urban, +have responded to the work in a manner which left no doubt of their +approval. In New York it was slow in taking hold, and unfortunately the +company was obliged to leave to fill other engagements just at the time +when a more definite success was at hand. In the west the spirit of the +thing caught at once; there was no hesitation there.</p> + +<p>From the beginning there has been a very definite plan in Mr. Walker's mind +as to what his objective point was to be, and especially in view of what I +have said of his company in connection with repertory it may be interesting +to suggest the outline of that plan here. This is no less than to establish +in some city a permanent repertory theater and company, and to use the +<i>Portmanteau Theater</i> and company for touring purposes. It is an amusing +thought; the little theater would shoot out from under the wing of its +parent as a raiding party detaches itself from its company, but the +consequences would be, one hopes, less destructive on both sides. The +thought, however, is really<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxvii" id="Page_xxvii">[Pg xxvii]</a></span> much more than amusing; it is of very real +consequence and importance. It will readily be seen that in this we have a +combination of the advantages of both the stationary and the touring +repertory company, and hence, double the chances of success. And Mr. Walker +would by no means be restricted to one <i>Portmanteau Theater</i>. If conditions +warranted it he could as easily construct and send out a dozen on the road, +taking his work into every nook and corner of the theater-loving country. +In fact the ramifications of the idea are so vast that it is useless to +endeavor to do more than suggest them here. The reader will see for himself +what great possibilities are involved, and what an effect this might have +on all repertory work in America.</p> + +<p>During the last two years the work of Mr. Walker's company has improved in +every way. The addition of new members, such as Margaret Mower, and +particularly George Gaul, whose performance In <i>The Book of Job</i> was, in my +opinion, one of the finest ever seen on the American stage, has naturally +served to strengthen the fabric greatly. The older members of the company, +Gregory Kelly, McKay Morris, Edgar Stehli and many others, have all +improved in their work, increasing in assurance and finish. The success +that has attended the fortunes of the theater has made possible finer stage +effects (the Dunsany productions have been immensely improved) and the +repertory has been greatly enriched by some really fine plays, and has been +enhanced by others of a more popular character. One thing must be said, +however, in all fairness. It has seemed to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxviii" id="Page_xxviii">[Pg xxviii]</a></span> writer that of late there +has been an increasing tendency on the part of Mr. Walker's scenic artists +and costume designers to fall away from the plain surfaces and unbroken +lines of the new stagecraft, and to achieve an effect which one can only +characterize as "spotty." This can best be appreciated by those who know +the two American productions of Dunsany's one-act play, <i>The Tents of the +Arabs</i>. I am rather regretfully of the opinion that, aside from the actual +playing and reading of the parts, Sam Hume's production was superior to +that of Mr. Walker. An opulence of variegated colors does not always +suggest as much as flat masses. The set used by Mrs. Hapgood in her +production of Torrence's <i>Simon the Cyrenian</i> illustrates excellently the +desired result. It is, however, Stuart Walker's privilege to adapt the new +ideas, and to make such use of the old, as seems best to him. One is +sometimes inclined to miss, nevertheless, the simplicity of his earlier +work, especially when it is compared with the splendor, not always well +used or well advised, of his later productions. His company has always read +beautifully, and its reading is now better than ever. The only adverse +criticism, if adverse criticism there be at all, lies against the Stage +Director himself. I am especially glad to be able to say this, for the +producer whose work is too good, too smooth, is surely stumbling to a fall. +The very fact that there is definite room for improvement in the +<i>Portmanteau</i> presentations, leads one to feel, knowing the record of the +company, that these improvements will be made.</p> + +<p>To return for a moment to an earlier phase of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxix" id="Page_xxix">[Pg xxix]</a></span> our discussion, it may be +both interesting and profitable to note the fact that while the <i>Abbey</i>, +the <i>Manchester</i>, and the <i>New Theaters</i> were all aided by material +subsidies, the <i>Portmanteau</i> has stood on its own legs, albeit they wabbled +a trifle on occasion, from the very start. A little, but only a little, +money has been borrowed, and there has been just one gift, that of $5000. +This last was accepted for the reason that it would enable the Theater to +mount sets and costume plays in a rather better fashion than heretofore. +While it was not absolutely essential to the continued existence of the +<i>Portmanteau</i> it made presently possible productions which otherwise would +have been postponed indefinitely; in British army slang it would be called +"bukshee," meaning extra, like the thirteenth cake in the dozen. The record +of the <i>Portmanteau</i> is its own, and that of its many friends who have been +generous in contributing that rarest of all gifts, sympathetic +understanding.</p> + +<p>Before withdrawing my intrusive finger from the <i>Portmanteau</i> pie I should +like to pay a small tribute to Stuart Walker himself. I do not think I have +ever known a man who gave more unsparingly of himself in all his work. That +dragon of the theater, the expense account, has often necessitated someone +shouldering the work of half a dozen who were not there. Always it is Mr. +Walker who has taken the task upon his back, cheerfully and willingly, and +despite physical ills, under which a less determined man would have +succumbed. His never wavering belief in his work and his ability to do that +work have brought him through many a pitfall. It is not a petty vanity,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xxx" id="Page_xxx">[Pg xxx]</a></span> +but the strong conceit of the artist; that which most of us call by the +vague term ideals. The spirit of the <i>Portmanteau</i> is to be found alike in +its offices and on its stage; a spirit of unselfish belief that somehow, +somewhere, we all shall "live happily ever after" if only we do the work we +are set to do faithfully here and now. The theater, the organization which +has that behind it, in conjunction with a keenly intelligent co-operation +or team-play, will take a great deal of punishment before it goes down. +Mistakes have been made, of course; otherwise neither producer nor company +were human; but it is in the acknowledgment and rectification of errors +that men become great.</p> + +<p>The repertory theater, the new drama, and stage craft, have an able ally in +the <i>Portmanteau</i>. We may look far afield for that elixir which will +transmute the base metal of the commercial theater to the bright gold of +art, but unless we remember that the pot of treasure is to be found at this +end of the rainbow, and not the other, our search will be in vain.</p> + +<p class="right"> +<span class="smcap">Edward Hale Bierstadt.</span><br /> +<br /> +New York City,<br /> +April, 1919.<br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>ACKNOWLEDGMENTS</h4> + +<p>I wish to acknowledge with gratitude the assistance given me by Mr. Brander +Matthews, Mr. Montrose Moses, and by Mr. Charles Henry Meltzer in obtaining +data, verifying dates and names, and by their kindly advice.</p> + +<p class="right"> +E. H. B.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Since America's entrance in the War given over to the +"movies."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Mr. John Palmer, in his book, "The Future of the Theater," +gives the following as the programme for the then, 1913, projected National +Theater. The war intervened, however, and the venture has been lost sight +of for the moment. This statement is even more reasonable than that of Mr. +Archer, for this is intended for practical use in England while his was +merely taken from France. +</p><p> +"... it seems desirable to state that a repertory theater should be held to +mean a theater able to present at least two different plays of full length +at evening performances in each completed week during the annual season, +and at least three different plays at evening performances and matinées +taken together ... and the number of plays presented in a year should not +be less than twenty-five. A play of full length means a play occupying at +least two-thirds of the whole time of any performance. But two two-act +plays, or three one-act plays, composing a single programme, should, for +the purposes of this statute, be reckoned as equivalent to a play of full +length." +</p> + +<p> +As Mr. Palmer remarks "this statute is both elastic and watertight." +</p> + +<p class="right"> +E. H. B.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> See Appendix for complete repertories.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Announcement has just been made that Miss George will continue +her repertory during the season of 1919-1920.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> They only failed for $3000, however: the rent of a Broadway +theater for a week.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> This statement hardly applies to <i>The Neighborhood Theater</i>, +or to that successor to <i>The Washington Square Players</i>, <i>The Theater +Guild</i>, the work of which at the <i>Garrick Theater</i>, New York, during the +first part of 1919 has been excellent in the very highest degree.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PROLOGUE TO THE PORTMANTEAU THEATER</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE PROLOGUE</h2> + + +<p><i>As the lights in the theater are lowered the voice of <span class="smcap">Memory</span> is heard as +she passes through the audience to the stage</i>.</p> + + +<p>MEMORY</p> + +<p>Once upon a time, but not so very long ago, you very grownups believed in +all true things. You believed until you met the Fourteen Doubters who were +so positive in their unbelief that you weakly cast aside the things that +made you happy for the hapless things that they were calling life. You were +afraid or ashamed to persist in your old thoughts, and strong in your folly +you discouraged your little boy, and other people's little boys from the +pastimes they had loved. Yet all through the early days you had been surely +building magnificent cities, and all about you laying out magnificent +gardens, and, with an April pool you had made infinite seas where pirates +fought or mermaids played in coral caves. Then came the Doubters, laughing +and jeering at you, and you let your cities, and gardens, and seas go +floating in the air—unseen, unsung—wonderful cities, and gardens, and +seas, peopled with the realest of people.... So now you, and he, and I are +met at the portals. Pass through them with me. I have something there that +you think is lost. The key is the tiny regret for the real things, the +little regret that sometimes seems to weight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> your spirit at twilight, and +compress all life into a moment's longing. Come, pass through. You cannot +lose your way. Here are your cities, your gardens, and your April pools. +Come through the portals of once upon a time, but not so very long +ago—today—now!</p> + +<p><i>She passes through the soft blue curtains, but unless you are willing to +follow her, turn back now. There are only play-things here.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">A Play in Three Acts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></span> +</h4> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Characters</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">O-Sode-San</span>, an old woman<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">O-Katsu-San</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Obaa-San</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Gaki of Kokoru</span>, an eater of unrest<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Riki</span>, a poet<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Aoyagi</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> +<h2>WEEPING WILLOW TREE</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ACT I</h2> + + +<p>[<i>Before the House of Obaa-San. At the right back is a weeping willow tree, +at the left the simple little house of Obaa-San.</i></p> + +<p>[<i>O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San enter.</i></p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Oi!... Oi!... Obaa-San!</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Obaa-San!... Grandmother!</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>She is not there.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Poor Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Why do you always pity Obaa-San? Are her clothes not whole? Has she not her +full store of rice?</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Ay!</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Then what more can one want—a full hand, a full belly, and a warm body!</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>A full heart, perhaps.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>What does Obaa-San know of a heart, silly O-Katsu? She has had no husband +to die and leave her alone. She has had no child to die and leave her arms +empty.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! She does not know.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>She has had no lover to smile upon her and then—pass on.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>But Obaa-San is not happy.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Pss-s!</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>She may be lonely because she has never had any one to love or to love her.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>How could one love Obaa-San? She is too hideous for love. She would +frighten the children away—and even a drunken lover would laugh in her +ugly face. Obaa-San! The grandmother!</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>O-Sode, might we not be too cruel to her?</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>If we could not laugh at Obaa-San, how then could we laugh? She has been +sent from the dome of the sky for our mirth.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>I do not know! I do not know! Sometimes I think I hear tears in her laugh!</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Pss-s! That is no laugh. Obaa-San cackles like an old hen.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>I think she is unhappy now and then—always, perhaps.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Has she not her weeping willow tree—the grandmother?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Ay. She loves the tree.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>The grandmother of the weeping willow tree! It's well for the misshapen, +and the childless, and the loveless to have a tree to love.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>But, O-Sode, the weeping willow tree can not love her. Perhaps even old +Obaa-San longs for love.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Do we not come daily to her to talk to her? And to ask her all about her +weeping willow tree?</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Oi! Obaa-San.</p> + +<p>[<i>A sigh is heard.</i></p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>What was that, O-Katsu?</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Someone sighed—a deep, hard sigh.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Oi! Obaa-San! Grandmother!</p> + +<p>[<i>The sigh is almost a moan.</i></p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>It seemed to come from the weeping willow tree.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>O-Katsu! Perhaps some evil spirit haunts the tree.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Some hideous Gaki! Like the Gaki of Kokoru—the evil ghost that can feed +only on the unrest of humans. Their unhappiness is his food. He has to find +misery in order to live, and win<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> his way back once more to humanity. To +different men he changes his shape at will, and sometimes is invisible.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Quick, Katsu, let us go to the shrine—and pray—and pray.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Ay. There!</p> + +<p>[<i>They go out. The Gaki appears.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Why did you sigh?</p> + +<p class="center">THE VOICE OF THE TREE</p> + +<p>O Gaki of Kokoru! My heart hangs within me like the weight of years on +Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Why did you moan?</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>The tree is growing—and it tears my heart.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I live upon your unrest. Feed me! Feed me!</p> + +<p>[<i>The tree sighs and moans and The Gaki seems transported with joy.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Please! Please! Give me my freedom.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Where then should I feed? Unless I feed on your unhappiness I should cease +to live—and I must live.</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Someone else, perchance, may suffer in my stead.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I care not where or how I feed. I am in the sixth hell, and if I die in +this shape I must remain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> in this hell through all the eternities. One like +me must feed his misery by making others miserable. I can not rise through +the other five hells to human life unless I have human misery for my food.</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Oh, can't you feed on joy—on happiness, on faith?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Faith? Yes, perhaps—but only on perfect faith. If I found perfect +faith—ah, then—I dare not dream.—There is no faith.</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Do not make me suffer more. Let me enjoy the loveliness of things.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Would you have someone else suffer in your stead?</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Someone else—someone else—</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Ay—old Obaa-San—she whom they call the grandmother.</p> + +<p>[<i>The Tree moans.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>She will suffer in your stead.</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>No! No! She loves me! She of all the world loves me! No—not she!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>It shall be she!</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>I shall not leave!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>You give me better food than I have ever known. You wait! You wait!</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Here comes Obaa-San! Do not let her suffer for me!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>You shall be free—as free as anyone can be—when I have made the misery of +Obaa-San complete.</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>She has never fully known her misery. Her heart is like an iron-bound chest +long-locked, with the key lost.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>We shall find the key! We shall find the key!</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>I shall warn her.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Try!</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Alas! I can not make her hear! I can not tell her anything.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>She can not understand you! She can not see me unless I wish! Earth people +never see or hear!</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! Hai!</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San enters. She is old, very, very old, and withered and misshapen. +There is only laughter in your heart when you look at Obaa-San unless you +see her eyes. Then</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>My tree! My little tree! Why do you sigh?</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! Hai!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Sometimes I think I pity you. Yes, dear tree!</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! Hai!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Now I am a traveller. She sees me pleasantly.—Grandmother!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Ay, sir!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Which way to Kyushu?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>You have lost your way. Far, far back beyond the ferry landing at Ishiyama +to your right. That is the way to Kyushu.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Ah, me!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>You are tired. Will you not sit and rest?—Will you not have some rice?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Oh, no.—Where is your brood, grandmother?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I have no brood. I am no grandmother. I am no mother.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>What! Are there tears in your voice?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Tears! Why should I weep?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I do not know, grandmother!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I am no grandmother!—Who sent you here to laugh at me?—O-Sode-San? 'Tis +she who laughs at me, because—</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>No one, old woman—</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Yes, yes, old woman. That is it. Old woman!—Who are you? I am not wont to +cry my griefs to any one.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Griefs? You have griefs?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Ay! Even <i>I</i>—she whom they call Obaa-San—have griefs.—Even I! But they +are locked deep within me. No one knows!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Someone must know.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I shall tell no one.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Someone must know!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>You speak like some spirit—and I feel that I must obey.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Someone must know!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I shall not speak. Who cares?—What is it I shall do? Tell my story—unlock +my heart—so that O-Sode-San may laugh and laugh and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> laugh. Is it not +enough that some evil spirit feeds upon my deep unrest?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>How can one feed upon your unrest when you lock it in your heart? (<i>The +voices of O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San are heard calling to Obaa-San</i>) Here +come some friends of yours. Tell them your tale.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Strange. I feel that I must speak out my heart.</p> + +<p>[<i>O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San come in.</i></p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Good morning, grandmother!</p> + +<p>OBAA-SAN (<i>with a strange wistfulness in her tone</i>)</p> + +<p>Good morning, O-Sode-San. Good morning, O-Katsu-San. May the bright day +bring you a bright heart.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>And you, Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>How is the weeping willow tree, grandmother?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>It is there—close to me.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>And does it speak to you, grandmother—</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I am no grandmother! I am no grandmother! I am no mother! O-Sode, can you +not understand? I am no mother.—I am no wife.—There is no one.—I am only +an old woman.—In the spring I see the world turn green and I hear the song +of happy birds and feel the perfumed balmy air upon my cheek—and every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +spring that cheek is older and more wrinkled and I have always been alone. +I see the stars on a summer night and listen for the dawn—and there never +has been a strong hand to touch me nor tiny fingers to reach out for me. I +have heard the crisp autumn winds fight the falling leaves and I have known +that long winter days and nights were coming—and I have always been +alone—alone. I have pretended to you—what else could I do? Grandmother! +Grandmother! Every time you speak the name, the emptiness of my life stands +before me like a royal Kakemono all covered with unliving people.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>You never seemed to care.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Did I not care! Grandmother! Grandmother! Why? Because I loved a weeping +willow tree. Because to me it was real. It was my baby. But no lover ever +came to woo. No words ever came to me.—Think you, O-Sode-San, that the +song of birds in the branches is ease to an empty heart. Think you that the +wind amongst the leaves soothes the mad unrest in here. (<i>She beats her +breast</i>) I have no one—no one. I talk to my weeping willow tree—but there +is no answer—no answer, O-Sode-San—only stillness—and yet—sometimes I +think I hear a sigh.—Grandmother! Grandmother! There! Is that enough? I've +bared my heart to you. Go spread the news—I am lonely and old—old.—I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +have always been lonely. Go spread the news.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>No, Obaa-San. We shall not spread the news. No one shall know.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>But—we pity you.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I need no pity.—Now my heart is unlocked. The dread Gaki of Kokoru who +feeds upon unrest can come to me and feed upon my pain. I care not.</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! Hai!</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Someone sighs.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Yes. It is my tree. Perhaps there, too, someone in deep distress is +imprisoned—as I am imprisoned in this body.—Hai! You do not know. You do +not know!</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Obaa-San—we have been hurting. I never knew—I am sorry, Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>You have been lonely, Obaa-San, but you have always been lonely. I know the +having and I know the losing.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Ay. 'Tis better to long for love than to have it—and then lose. Look at +me, whom the villagers call the bitter one. He came to me so long ago.—It +was spring, Obaa-San, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> perfume filled the air and birds were singing +and his voice was like the voice from the sky-dome—all clear and +wonderful. Together we saw the cherry trees bloom—<i>once</i>: and on a summer +night we saw the wonder of the firefly fête. My heart was young and life +was beautiful. We watched the summer moon—and when the autumn came—Ai! +Ai! Ai! Obaa-San.—I knew a time of love—and oh, the time of hopelessness! +And I shut my heart. I did not see, Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>You knew his love, O-Sode-San. You touched his hand.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>But what is that? To her—my little girl—I gave all my dreams. I felt her +baby hands in mine and in the night I could reach out to her. I lived for +her. And then, one day—Obaa-San, I had known the joy of motherhood and I +had known the ecstasy of—child—and now—Her little life with me was only +a dream of spring, but still my back is warm with the touch of her +babyhood. The little toys still dance before my eyes. Oh, that was long +ago.—Now all is black.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>All blackness can never fill a mother's heart.—O-Katsu-San, you have known +the baby's hand in yours. But I am old—and I have never known, can never +know.—I'd go to the lowest hells if once I might but know the touch of my +own child's hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! Hai</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Just once—for one short day—to fill the empty place in my heart that has +always been empty—and a pain—</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Who is that man, Obaa-San?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>There? That is a stranger seeking for Kyushu.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>He seems to wish to speak to you.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>A strange man. 'Twas he who seemed to make me unlock my heart to you.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Then shall we go.—And we'll return, Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Grandmother!</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>We'll laugh no more.</p> + +<p>[<i>They leave. Obaa-San turns to the tree. The Gaki enters, strangely +agitated.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Obaa-San, for so they called you, tell me—did you say you'd go to the +lowest hells if you might know the touch of your own child?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Forever—could I but fill this emptiness in my mother-heart.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Would you really pay?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Yes, yes. But why do you ask?—Who are you?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I am a stranger bound for Kyushu.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Why do you, too, make sport of me?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Go you into your house and come not till I call.</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San obeys under a strange compulsion.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! Hai</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>You can not feed me now. That cry was the wind amongst your branches. Come. +I bid you come to life, to human form.</p> + +<p class="center">THE TREE</p> + +<p>I do not wish to come.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I bid you come!</p> + +<p>[<i>When he touches the trunk of the tree, Aoyagi steps forth. She is small. +Her little body is swathed in brown and from her arms hang long sleeves +like the branches of the weeping willow. At first she shrinks. Then freedom +takes hold on her and she opens her arms wide.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>You are free.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Free!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>As free as one in life. You are bound to the tree as one might be bound to +his body in a dream—but you may wander as one wanders<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> in a dream—free +until the waking—then when the tree suffers, you shall suffer. Though you +be leagues away, you shall suffer.—But first you shall dream.—Now you are +to be the daughter of Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Oi!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Do not call yet.—You are to wed the first young man who passes here and +you are to follow him.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>But—Obaa-San?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>She shall feed me with her new-made misery.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>No—no—she loved me so!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>She shall feed me. You will be happy.</p> + +<p>[<i>He disappears.</i></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Free! And happy!</p> + +<p>[<i>The Gaki's voice is heard calling Obaa-San. She comes in and looks about. +At last her old tired eyes see Aoyagi. For a moment they face each other.</i></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Hai.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>A dream!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Mother—</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San stands mute. She listens—yearning for the word again.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Have you lost your way?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>No, mother—</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San does not know what to think or do. A strange giddiness seizes on +her and a great light fills her eyes.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>How beautiful the name! But I am only Obaa-San. Your mother—</p> + +<p>[<i>She shakes her old head sadly.</i></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Obaa-San, my mother.</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San lays her hand upon her heart. Then she stretches out her arms.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Obaa-San—your mother—where is my pain? And you—who are you?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I am Aoyagi, mother.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>You have not lost your way?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I have but just found my way.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>My pain is stilled. There is no emptiness. It is a dream—a dream of spring +and butterflies—Aoyagi!</p> + +<p>[<i>She stretches out her arms and silently Aoyagi glides into them—as +though they had always been waiting for her.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I seem never to have known a time when you were not here.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Oh, mother dear, it is now—and now is always, if we will.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>It seems as though the weeping willow tree had warmed and shown its heart +to me.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I am the Lady of the Weeping Willow tree!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I care not who or what you are. You are here—close to my heart and I have +waited always. I know I dream—I know.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>How long I've tried to speak to you!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>How long my heart has yearned for you!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Mother!</p> + +<p>[<i>The Gaki appears.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Such happiness. Already she has forgotten the coming of the man.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Oh, how I've dreamed of you! When I was very, very young and had my little +doll, I dreamed of you. I used to sing a lullaby and still I sing it in my +heart:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, baby, see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ears of the wolf are long;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep, baby, sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your father is brave and strong.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I grew into womanhood and still I dreamed of you. And, dreaming still, I +grew old. And all the world it seemed to me, made sport of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> my longing and +my loneliness. The people of the village called me grandmother. The +children echoed the grownups' cry and ran from me. Now—Aoyagi—you are +here. Oh, the warmth—the peace. Come let me gather flowers for the house. +Let me—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Oh, mother, dear. I am so happy here.</p> + +<p>OBAA-SAN (<i>suddenly becoming the solicitous mother, she handles Aoyagi as +one might handle a doll</i>)</p> + +<p>Are you—truly?—Are you warm?—You are hungry!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>No—I am just happy.</p> + +<p>[<i>She nestles close to Obaa-San. There is complete contentment.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I shall bring you—a surprise.</p> + +<p>[<i>She darts into the house. Immediately The Gaki comes in.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>You seem very happy, Aoyagi. And your mother is very happy, too.—And I am +hungry now.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>You will not hurt her! Let me go back to the Weeping Willow Tree—</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>That would kill her—perhaps.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>No—no—I should be near her then—always.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>But where would I have my food? Not in your heart, not in hers—I should +starve and I must live.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>What then?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>See!</p> + +<p>[<i>He points to the road. Aoyagi looks in that direction as The Gaki +disappears. Riki comes in. Occasionally one may hear a bit of a lullaby +sung in the old cracked voice of Obaa-San</i>:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, baby, see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ears of the wolf are long;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep, baby, sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your father is brave and strong.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><i>Riki is a poet, young, free, romantic. He faces Aoyagi a little moment as +though a wonderful dragonfly had poised above his reflection in a pool.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>You are she!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>My—who—are—you?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I am a poet—I have sought everywhere for you.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I am the Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>You are my love.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I am the daughter of Obaa-San.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I love you so!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Yes—I love you so!—But I love Obaa-San, my mother—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Come with me.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>But Obaa-San—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Come with me. Butterfly, butterfly, alight upon the Willow Tree And if you +rest not well, then fly home to me. See! I make a little verse for you.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>But—Obaa-San—is very old and very lonely.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>She is your mother.—She must be glad to let you go.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>She does not know you.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I know you.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Yes—but I can not leave Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>We can not stay with Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Can we not take her with us?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>No—like the Oshidori—we can go only by two and two along the silent +stream—and as Oshidori in silence and in happiness float on and on and +seem to cleave the mirrored sky that lies<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> deep within the dark waters, so +we must go, we two, just you and I, to some silent place where only you and +I may be—and look and look until we see the thousand years of love in each +other's hearts.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Something speaks to me above the pity for poor Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>It is love.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I love Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>This is love beyond love. This is earth and air—sea and sky.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I do not even know your name.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>What does my name matter? I am I—you are you.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I love Obaa-San, my mother.—I feel happy in her arms;—I felt at +peace;—but now I feel that I must go to you.—I am fearful—yet I must +go.—You are—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I am Riki. But what can Riki mean that already my eyes have not said?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I feel a strange unrest—that is happiness.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Come!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>First let me speak to Obaa-San.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Look—out there—a mountain gleaming in the fresh spring air.—Amongst the +trees I know a glade that waits for you and me.—A little stream comes +plashing by and silver fishes leap from pool to pool—dazzling jewels in +the leaf-broken sunlight. Tall bamboo trees planted deep in the father +earth reach up to the sky.—And there the hand of some great god can reach +down to us and feed our happiness—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Riki—I must go—I feel the strong hand leading me—I feel the happy +pain—I long—I would stay with Obaa-San; but, Riki, I must go.—Yon +mountain gleaming in the sun—the bamboo trees—the silver fishes—you—</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San enters carrying an armful of wistaria blossoms. She is radiant. +Then—she sees the lovers—and she understands. The blossoms slip from her +arms.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>When do you go?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Obaa-San, my mother—something outside of me calls and I must obey.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I understand.—It must be wonderful, my little daughter.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Mother!—This is Riki.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Riki!—See that you bring her happiness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I could not fail. I have searched for her always.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>We always search for someone—we humans.—Sometimes we find—sometimes we +wait always.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Riki, I must not go. Obaa-San is my mother—and I am all she has.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Yes, Aoyagi, you are all I have and that is why I can let you go. Be +happy—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>But you, my mother.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>For my sake, be happy. Some day I shall be Obaa-San no more—and what of +you then? Go, my little darling, go with Riki.—Some day, you will return.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>We shall return some day, Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Farewell.</p> + +<p>[<i>Very simply she steps into Obaa-San's outstretched arms and then, as +though they had been forever empty, Obaa-San stands gazing into space with +her arms outstretched. Aoyagi and Riki go out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Hai!—Hai!</p> + +<p>[<i>She lays her hand upon her heart and, looking into space, turns to the +house. There is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> empty tree—her empty heart! The Gaki comes in.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Oi! Obaa-San!</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San turns mechanically.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Did you not find your way?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I found my way.—But why this unhappiness in your eyes?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I am very lonely. I have lived my lifelong dream of spring and butterflies +a single instant—and it is gone.</p> + +<p>[<i>She turns to go.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I feed! I feed!</p> + +<p>[<i>The voices of O-Sode and O-Katsu are heard calling Obaa-San.</i></p> + +<p>Here are your friends again.</p> + +<p>[<i>O-Sode and O-Katsu come in.</i></p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Hai! Obaa-San, a little lady passed and told us you were lonely.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I am lonely.—But I have always been lonely.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>What has happened?</p> + +<p>[<i>The Gaki, hidden, has been triumphant. Suddenly he seems to shrivel as if +drawn with rage.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I waited, oh so long—you know.—I opened my arms.—My dream came true.—I +sang my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> lullaby—to my child.—A lover came;—they have gone.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>She is a-wander in her mind.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I opened my arms here—like this.—She stepped into them as though she had +been there always—and now she has gone.—In one short moment I lived my +mother-life.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>It was magic! Come, Obaa-San, we'll make some prayers to burn.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Some evil ghost.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>No! No! Some kindly spirit from the sky-dome came to me.—I have had one +moment of happiness complete.—I dreamed and I have known. Now I shall +dream again—a greater dream—a greater dream.</p> + +<p>[<i>The old women go into the house.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>What! I can not feed! My Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree is gone! Obaa-San +has built a circle of happiness about her head. Hai! I shall die in this +shape.—I must feed.—Perhaps she tries to trick me.—I shall listen.—Why +does she not weep?—Why do they not wail?</p> + +<p>[<i>He starts for the house. As he nears it, the voice of Obaa-San is heard +crooning the little lullaby</i>:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, baby, see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ears of the wolf are long;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep, baby, sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your father is brave and strong.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE GAKI (<i>defeated, seems beside himself. Suddenly he looks out and sees +the mountain-peak</i>) I'll find them in the bamboo glade. Perhaps I can make +unhappiness there. Riki and Aoyagi!</p> + + +<p><i>The Curtains Close.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> +<h2>ACT II</h2> + + +<p><i>A Bamboo Glade on the Mountain-side.</i></p> + +<p>[<i>The Gaki comes in.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>This is the glade on the mountain side—the glade where Aoyagi and Riki +think to find their happiness. Here must I feed or I shall die in this +shape.—Hai!—They come.</p> + +<p>[<i>Riki and Aoyagi enter.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>... and so like every other prince who is a real prince, he charged to the +top of the hill before his men; and they, following him, fell upon the +enemy and victory was theirs.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>And then—?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>And then the Princess laid her hand upon her heart.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Is that all?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Is that all? What more need there be?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Did they not wed and have great happiness?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>You can answer that.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I? I never heard the story before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>One may always end a story—just right.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Not a weeping willow tree?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Even a weeping willow tree!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>How?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I'll show you.—Stand right here.—So! I stand here.—Now look at me.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I am looking.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Place your hand upon your heart.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Ay.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Now I am the Prince. With sword in hand I come to you. From Kyushu to Koban +I've fought my way to you;—through forest, marsh and mountain path I've +striven for you. Now I am here.—Look at me.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p>[<i>With a cry of delight she rushes to his arms.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>And did they wed?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Ah, love beyond love.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>And did they have great happiness?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p><a name="p34i" id="p34i"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 472px;"> +<img src="images/ill-068.jpg" width="472" height="650" alt="The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree + +Act III." title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree<br /> + +Act III.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>She nestles close to him.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>My little princess! I did not come to you sword in hand; I did not fight my +way from Kyushu to Koban. But I strove for you through forest, marsh and +mountain pass.—Within me throbbed a mighty song that I could not sing. I +saw almost all the world, it seems, and once I heard a voice that seemed to +call to me alone. It was at the ferry of Ishiyama. I followed the +sound—and there she stood all aglow in the morning sunlight. But when I +saw, the song still throbbed within my heart and I could not sing to +her.—Someone else called to me—"Hai! Hai! Hai!"</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>And what of her—the vision at the ferry of Ishiyama?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>For all I know she may still be standing there in the morning sunlight all +aglow.—I have found you!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>And was she—fair?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Ay—how can I say? Now all the world is fair because I see only you in +earth and sky and everything.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>She was aglow in the morning sun.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>How can I say? I heard her voice;—a song was in my heart—a song for +you.—I saw her—the song staid locked in my heart for you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Riki—Riki—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>A dream that's true.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I do not understand it all.—Obaa-San—you—this happiness.—I have known +happiness, but not like this.—When I was in the weeping willow +tree—sometimes I was happy and sometimes I was hurt.—Oh, Riki, Riki, this +glade is like the weeping willow tree! Whenever the soft air sways the +leaves, I feel the same sweet joy as when the little breezes played amongst +my branches. The rain—oh, the gentle little rain that cooled me in the hot +summer—the drops that danced from leaf to leaf and felt like smiles upon +my face. Tears! The rain is not like tears, Riki.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>The dew is tears, perhaps.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>The dew! It came to me like a cool veil that the morning sun would lift and +little breezes bear away. Then sometimes—the voice, the loneliness of +Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Look where her home lies. Far down there beyond that stream, see—there is +Kyushu.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Oh, Riki, my Riki, my august lord, why, why can I stay here in happiness +with you when I know that Obaa-San is miserable and alone?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I can not say? I only know that we are here<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>—you and I—and we are happy. +Two make a world, Aoyagi. Why? How? I do not know.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Can we not send a message to Obaa-San?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Yes. I shall go down the mountain to the road and tell some passer-by.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>And I?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Sit here and rest—and watch the silver stream at Kyushu.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I shall wait—I shall wait.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Sayonara.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Sayonara.—Sayonara, my august lord.</p> + +<p>[<i>Riki goes out. Aoyagi, left alone, feels the air in the old way. She +sways slightly in the breeze, then flutters toward the steps.</i></p> + +<p>Oh, Kyushu! The silver stream at Kyushu!</p> + +<p>[<i>She evidently sees the place where Obaa-San lives. Her eyes dim a bit and +slowly she hums the old lullaby</i>:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, baby, see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ears of the wolf are long;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep, baby, sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy father is brave and strong.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Poor Obaa-San!</p> + +<p>[<i>The Gaki appears.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I have lost my way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>Aoyagi turns quickly, questioning him almost fearfully with her eyes. +There is something of the Aoyagi of the time when The Gaki bade her leave +Obaa-San.</i></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Whither are you bound?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I am a stranger bound for Kyushu.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>There is Kyushu. (<i>She indicates the silver stream</i>)</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I am told there is a ferry on the way to Kyushu.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Yes,—at Ishiyama.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>At—Ishiyama.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Why do you speak so?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I merely echoed your own words.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I did not say them so terribly.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>What is in your heart came into your voice, perhaps.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>There is the way to Kyushu.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Down that path?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Yes. Did you not meet Riki?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Riki?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Yes, my august lord.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I passed no one—except—a tall woman who was climbing slowly and singing a +wonderful song—which I had heard once near the ferry at Ishiyama.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>But Riki just left me here. You must have passed him on the way.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>The by-paths are many and the trysting places are secret—like this.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Riki would take no by-path. My august lord needs no trysting place save +this.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I do not know. I saw no Riki.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>My lord needs no trysting place. I am here. He knows I am here—waiting.</p> + +<p>[<i>The Gaki looks at her.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Riki?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He knows I am waiting—</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Riki?—Oh, yes the name—I heard it—once—at the ferry at Ishiyama. He has +been there.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>A poet?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>He writes wonderful love-songs—they say.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>They?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Yes,—the people at Ishiyama. I heard one.—It goes—let me see:</p> + +<p>"Butterfly, butterfly, alight upon the willow tree—"</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He did not speak that at Ishiyama. He made that for me.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I heard it, strange to say, at Ishiyama. Perhaps they brought it +from—where did you say?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He made that for me only yesterday.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>And I heard it—yesterday—at Ishiyama. There the wonderful woman was +singing. (<i>She looks at him</i>) The one I passed just now.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>That is a mistake.—You are wrong.—I know my—Ah! what is it here—that +hurts me, tears me, seems to choke me! Riki!—I am all in all to him—he +told me that.—He can not make poems for another.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I should not have told anything.—Forgive me.—I did not know.—To speak +truth is deep in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> my heart.—I have no gracious subtleties.—I am sorry—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>In the valley there is a mist. I can no longer see the silver stream at +Kyushu.—Who are you?—I am afraid!—Riki—Riki—</p> + +<p>[<i>There is no answer.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>He does not seem to hear.—I shall go to meet him. He went this way, you +say?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Yes.—There is a mist in the valley and I can not see the silver stream at +Kyushu—</p> + +<p>[<i>She does not see The Gaki who goes in the direction opposite to the one +Aoyagi has indicated.</i></p> + +<p>Oh, the little day—the little day—of love beyond love.—Riki—my mother, +Obaa-San.—Yesterday the mountain-top gleamed like the topmost heaven in +the spring sunlight. Today—the valley dies in mist and the mountain-top is +lost in the sky.</p> + +<p>RIKI (<i>coming in singing</i>)</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! Hai!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I must go back to Obaa-San, my mother.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>What has happened, Aoyagi?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>We came up the mountain path side by side, Riki. Without question I gave +myself to you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I gave my love—my love beyond love. I believed.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Why not believe?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Your first words were—"You are she!" I did not question. And now—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Oh, my little love, was I gone too long?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>My love knows no time, Riki.—You were gone—how can I say?—ages.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>It was ages, too, to me, Aoyagi.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI (<i>softening</i>)</p> + +<p>I watched the silver stream at Kyushu—and I waited.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>What, are those tears?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Nothing, Riki—but I feel so far away—from Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>She can bridge the distance with her heart. A mother can always bridge all +distance with her heart.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Hai!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Our happiness is all she wants.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Our happiness—(<i>bitterly</i>)</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI (<i>He goes to her. She moves away</i>)</p> + +<p>Why—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>The silver fishes—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>What has happened, Aoyagi?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Did you send the message to Obaa-San?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Did you go down the path?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Did you pass a stranger on the way?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>A stranger just came by.—He came up the mountain path.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I crossed the stream.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI (<i>She takes a deep breath</i>)</p> + +<p>You crossed the stream.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi—little sweetheart—I cannot understand.—What do you mean?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Oh, Riki, Riki, I am so alone. Tell me what—why—why<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi, was I gone too long? Has some demon come to you?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>No demon came. You were gone too long.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I went down the path and crossed the stream to take a shorter way. I met a +stranger—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Singing?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Yes—I think she was singing.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p><i>She</i> was singing.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>What do you mean, Aoyagi?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Who was she?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I do not know.—She said she would pass Ishiyama.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Where did you see her?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Beyond the stream—in a little glade.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Did she sing your song?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>My song? No.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Did she know your songs?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi! What do you want to know?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Did she know your song to me—"Butterfly, butterfly, alight upon the willow +tree"?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Perhaps.—I made that to you years ago—when you were a dream in my heart.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>At Ishiyama?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Perhaps.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Hai!—Obaa-San, my mother!—Oh, my heart—my heart—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi—what have I done? Let me comfort you!</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes to her.</i></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>You leave me nothing in all the world.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I give you all my world.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! Hai!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Let me go and call the lady bound for Ishiyama.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Riki!—ah!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Little Aoyagi—my love—she will be tender with you.—And when your tears +are gone, she'll bear your message on to Obaa-San.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>He goes to her, but she draws away. For a moment he is uncertain what to +do;—then—he speaks.</i></p> + +<p>I'll bring her back to you.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Riki!—No!—We came up the mountain-path together—side by side.—We—but +now, Riki, we go two ways.—I to Obaa-San—you to—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>What do you mean?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Go sing your songs at Ishiyama! Go make your poems to the butterfly.—I—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I have made songs only for you.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>But the songs for me are on every tongue.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Ay—I am proud of that.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>The lady at the ferry at Ishiyama—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>She learned the song to you!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p>[<i>Aoyagi rushes upon him and before she realizes what she is doing, she +strikes him. He stands petrified a moment, then faces her very calmly.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I shall find the stranger-woman and send her to you.—I can no longer help +you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>You can no longer help.—Oh—life—oh, love—this too short day—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I shall stay near at hand until you return to Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I shall find the path alone.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I'll send the stranger-woman to you.</p> + +<p>[<i>Riki goes out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! Hai! I watched the sunrise only yesterday and I trembled with the +wonder of the dew-cooled dawn. Life seemed all peace and—today—I have +known a mother's love and my mother.—I have known a lover's touch—love +beyond love.—I am waking from a dream. The Gaki said I'd waken—I'd be as +free as one in life. Oh, what is this thing they call life? No happiness +complete—a vision of a mountain top—a climbing to the goal—a bamboo +glade—oh, the mist at Kyushu.—When I go back to Obaa-San—I shall love +her so—but oh, the memory of Riki—the mountain gleaming in the sun—</p> + +<p>[<i>She starts sadly from the path. The Gaki enters.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Lady, I am here again. It seemed to me that I must return to you. Something +seemed to call. (<i>Aoyagi almost collapses</i>) I feed! I feed!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I can not go!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>You seem to suffer.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Oh—I have lost my way in life—</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Lost your way in life? Let me help you.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I have stood on the mountain side and I have seen the green valleys far +below.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Talk to me—as you would to yourself.—I hear but I shall not speak what I +hear.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Riki—no, I can not speak even to myself. Deep in me there is a hurt.—I +can not tell—</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>A woman gives all;—the man forgets.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>But to Riki—he knows—I brought him my full belief—my all-in-all.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Your perfect faith.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Ay, my perfect faith.—He spoke to me and then I bowed to my august +lord.—I followed him without question.—And he forgets so soon.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Are you sure he has forgotten?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>You know—you saw the lady from Ishiyama.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>True.—I saw her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>You did not meet him on the path.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>True.—I did not meet him on the path.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He crossed the stream.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Perhaps to shorten the way.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He met her in a little glade.—Hai!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>What shall you do?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I'll go my way. I'll return to Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I'll guide you down the mountain side.—Come, we'll take the shorter +way—the by-paths—across the stream—through the little glade—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI (<i>She looks about once more at the scene of her happiness</i>)</p> + +<p>Hai!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Come!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>No, let us go down the path.—I want to see my footprints—side by side +with his.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Perhaps they're being crushed under the feet of the lady from Ishiyama!</p> + +<p>[<i>Aoyagi starts a moment as though to fly along the path before the lady +comes.—She sways slowly—and then falls in a pitiful little heap.—The +Gaki takes her in his arms and, utterly triumphant, starts up the +mountain-side.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p>We'll go up—up—sweet Aoyagi, to the snow peak—gleaming in the +sun.—You'll find the mountain-top—not lost in the sky.—Your perfect +faith!—Oh, you silly human—oh, futile love—climb, Aoyagi—climb without +love.—But first we'll make footprints for the lover's eyes.—Blindness +will lead him to the mists at Kyushu.—Jealousy will lead you to the lonely +stars.</p> + +<p>[<i>He holds Aoyagi so that her feet touch the ground—toward the downward +path. Then with a wild laugh, he turns toward the mountain top. As the +laughter dies, the voice of Riki is heard calling</i></p> + +<p>Aoyagi! Aoyagi!... Oi!</p> + +<p>[<i>The laugh of The Gaki is heard once more very far away—as he ascends the +mountain with his burden.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi!—Aoyagi!</p> + +<p>[<i>Riki comes running in. Presently he sees the footprints.</i></p> + +<p>Oi!—Aoyagi!</p> + +<p>[<i>He runs down the path.</i></p> + +<p>Aoyagi!—Aoyagi!</p> + +<p>[<i>Far, very far away The Gaki's laugh is heard.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi!—Aoyagi!</p> + +<p>[<i>Night has fallen slowly.</i></p> + +<p>Aoyagi!—Aoyagi!</p> + + +<h4><i>The Curtains Close.</i></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> +<h2>ACT III</h2> + +<h4><i>Before the House of Obaa-San</i></h4> + + +<p>[<i>It is moonlight. As the curtain opens, Obaa-San is heard singing the +lullaby; from the distance the voice of Riki calls.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi!—Aoyagi!—Aoyagi!—Aoyagi! Oi!</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San appears in the doorway.</i></p> + +<p>Aoyagi!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN (<i>She goes toward the voice</i>)</p> + +<p>Oi!</p> + +<p>[<i>Riki enters.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Obaa-San! Where is Aoyagi?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Where is Aoyagi?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Is she not here?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>She is not here. Where—Riki!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I left her in the bamboo glade—and when I returned she was gone. Her +footprints pointed toward the path—and then were lost.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Why did you leave her?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I left her because she—I left her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I do not know, Riki, what has come to pass—but this I know—I am waiting +for her.—I am waiting for her. Go seek for her—and bring her back to me.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I shall search for her.—Obaa-San, she—</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I care not what she did. I am waiting here for her.</p> + +<p>[<i>Riki looks at Obaa-San a moment and then understands.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi!</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out. Obaa-San turns to the empty house—the empty willow tree.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>She will come back to me.</p> + +<p>[<i>She goes into the house. The Gaki enters.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Foolish Riki! He searches in the valley. Mad Aoyagi! Alone with the lonely +stars!—Oh, wondrous misery that makes itself.</p> + +<p>[<i>He sees Obaa-San. She enters from the house.</i></p> + +<p>Good-morning, Obaa-San, my friend.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Good-morning, traveller.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Why do you rise before the dawn?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I could not rest.—Why are you not at Kyushu?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>There is a mist at Kyushu—and I feared to lose my way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Did you pass a little lady—Aoyagi, by name—alone—</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>It seems—I met a little lady.—She was not happy.—That one?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Where?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I am a stranger here—I cannot say. Over there—or over there.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>She will come to me, perhaps.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Do you know her?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>She is my daughter,—Aoyagi.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Do you not fear for her?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Perhaps.—She will be here soon.—Riki has gone for her.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>She must know the way.</p> + +<p>[<i>The voices of O-Sode and O-Katsu are heard.</i></p> + +<p>This has been a restless night for age. (<i>He disappears. O-Sode-San and +O-Katsu-San enter</i>)</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Good-morning, O-Sode-San. Good-morning, O-Katsu-San.—The lily hands of +sleep have passed you by.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>A strange unrest has seized upon me. I think—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> think of my little one. +She is glorious in my heart, and words with wings seem to flash before my +eyes like fireflies in the darkness.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>I, too, have lived in words.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Obaa-San, is it not wonderful to put a joy or pain in words?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Ah, yes—if there is anyone to hear them. All my long, long years before +Aoyagi came to me, my heart sang, and words freighted with my dreams and my +love would come to me—here; and they would die because they found no ear +attuned to them.—Tell me what you thought, O-Sode-San.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The moon in calm restlessness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shows the water grasses of the River of Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swaying in the cool spring air—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know the time to meet my lover<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not too far away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Every one has a poem in his heart, I believe.—What was your poem, O-Katsu?</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, messenger of the other world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My little one is young;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She can not find her way—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you kindly take my little one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon your warm, broad back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the twilight path.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>And you, Obaa-San,—was it words that kept sleep from your eyes?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Ay, bitter dream-words. And for the bitterness I am paying dearly.—Over +and over the words came to me:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here lies my daughter's sleeping body<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the mat beside me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But her soul is far away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Asleep in her lover's arms—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I, her white-haired mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hold only an empty shell.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Oh, I am ashamed—ashamed.—And just now Riki came to me—and told me he +could not find Aoyagi.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN AND O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Hai!</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>Can we not search for her?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I am waiting here.—She may find her way back.—I would not have her come +to an empty house.—Come—let's go within—and dream that yours and yours +and mine are on their way to us.</p> + +<p>[<i>The old women go into the house. There is just a moment's silence—then</i>:</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Hai! Hai! Hai!</p> + +<p>[<i>Aoyagi, utterly forlorn, enters. She looks at the house, turns and sees +the mountains, covers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> her eyes, and drags herself wearily to the willow +tree. She moans as though winter had fallen upon the world and were +taunting her. The Gaki enters.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>So you have found your way—in life.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Oh, let me go back to my tree!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>No, little Aoyagi—you would be happy then.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Let me die!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>One can not die.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Hai!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Where have you been?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>So far—so far!—I am weary.—When I awoke, I was on the +mountain-top—alone.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Were there no stars?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Oh—the stars, the lonely, lonely stars! I tried to touch them—they seemed +so near.—I found the path—the glade—our footprints—strange people—I am +here. Let me back! Let me back!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>And what of Riki?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He does not care.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>And what of Obaa-San?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>What can I give to Obaa-San now—but misery? Am I never to be free?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>What would you do if you were free—climb to the mountain top to see the +lonely stars?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Hai!—Riki!—Obaa-San!</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San enters. The Gaki disappears.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Was my name spoken in the dawn?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Mother!</p> + +<p>[<i>With a cry of joy, Obaa-San enfolds Aoyagi in her arms.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Nadeshiko! My little girl!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Where is Riki?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>He has gone to search for you.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Was he alone?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Alone?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Yes. Was there no woman with him—a lady from Ishiyama?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>A lady from—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Yes—tall—fair—singing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>He was alone. A lady from Ishiyama—(<i>Aoyagi shudders with dread</i>) brought +me a message in the early night—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>It was she—young?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>No—old.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Had she seen Riki?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Yes. On the mountain-side—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>The stranger said she was young and fair.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Perhaps the stranger did not see with honest eyes.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He would not lie.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Sometimes the eyes and the ears lie.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>And if she had been young and fair?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Riki met her in a glade.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Did you see them meet?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>No—she was singing.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>A happy song, perhaps.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>She sang the song he made to me.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>How do you know?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Riki said she knew his song to me.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Ah, that is beautiful, that she should love his song to you.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He—</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>My little darling, I do not know what really happened; but this I know, you +did not speak fairly to Riki or Riki did not speak fairly to you. Almost +every unhappiness comes because we speak too much of our pride and speak +too little of our hearts.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I asked him if he saw her.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Why?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>A stranger told me—</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Was it the stranger you believed before Riki could defend himself?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>But, mother, I gave my all in all to Riki. He does not care.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Do you know?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I asked Riki if they met?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Did he tell you?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He seemed to be proud to tell.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Then he was unashamed to tell—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>I asked him questions.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>But did you ask him the great question in your heart?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Oh—</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Did you say, "Riki, my love, you are in all my heart. Am I in all yours?"</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He told me that.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>And did you believe?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Above all the world!</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Then why doubt him later?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>The lady from Ishiyama passed by.</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>My child, a lady bound for Ishiyama passed by! Had she been singing all the +love-songs of all the worlds; had she been fairer than the lotus-flower, +why should you have doubted Riki?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>A stranger<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>A stranger!—a stranger!—Oh, why—why—why do the eyes of love grow blind +because a stranger speaks? You, Aoyagi, did not see the lady bound for +Ishiyama. You did not hear her song—and yet upon the ears and eyes of a +stranger you would shatter your love.—I saw the lady.—She was +singing.—She was not fair.—If she had been—Oh, my little child—Riki is +Riki, your august lord, the lord of your life. When he comes back, go to +him and speak from your heart.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>What shall I say?</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>I need not tell your heart.—It is only your head that can not learn to +speak unprompted.—Do you love Riki?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Ay—so dearly!</p> + +<p>[<i>The voice of Riki is heard.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi!</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>He is coming!</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San, unnoticed, goes into the house. Riki enters.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi!</p> + +<p>[<i>When he sees she is safe, he drops suddenly. She goes to him.</i></p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Riki, my august lord, listen to my heart.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>—Forget my anger.—Tell me once +again that you love me.—I'll believe.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>You know—I have always loved you.—When you were a song in my heart, I +loved you so! And now—</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Oh, Riki, can we ever forget the blow I struck?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>That was yesterday—see, this is today: the dawn has spread across the sky. +What shall we do? Look back upon the bitterness of yesterday, or try to see +the fears of tomorrow, or live in the gladness of today?</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>The Gaki of Kokoru is here at the tree. He will not let us live in +happiness. He let me go with you because he meant to feed upon the misery +of poor Obaa-San.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>He has not come upon us yet. We are struggling against tomorrow. This is +the dawning of today.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>Then shall we live—today.</p> + +<p>[<i>Obaa-San enters from the house.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Come, Aoyagi; come, Riki. We have found happiness at our door. Within there +is rice and tea. Come.</p> + +<p>[<i>They go into the house. The Gaki enters.</i></p> + +<p><a name="p63i" id="p63i"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/ill-099.jpg" width="650" height="444" alt="The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree + +Act III." title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree<br /> + +Act III.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>There is love!—Now what shall I do for misery? Old Obaa-San remembers +happiness. She has taught O-Katsu and O-Sode to remember happiness. The +lovers are reunited;—now they understand.—And I—I, ah, I must die in +this dread shape and stay in this hell through all the eternities unless I +bring new misery to them. What can I do? (<i>He turns to see the tree</i>) Ah—I +shall kill the tree—slowly—slowly—and I'll feed upon them all. Aoyagi is +bound to the tree as one is bound to his body in a dream.—I'll kill the +tree.</p> + +<p>[<i>He draws his short sword and smites the tree. There is a cry from the +house and Aoyagi enters quickly, followed by Riki, Obaa-San, O-Katsu-San, +and O-Sode-San. Aoyagi holds her heart.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi! (<i>She droops in his arms. Obaa-San lays her hand upon her dear +child's head. O-Katsu-San understands. The Gaki in triumph smiles again. +Aoyagi cries out and shudders as she clings to Riki</i>) Oh, whatever power +gave strength to me and led me to my love, give me the chance to save my +love.</p> + +<p class="center">AOYAGI</p> + +<p>The tree!—The tree!</p> + +<p>[<i>The Gaki smites again.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>The Gaki of Kokoru! Ay, I know! I know! I fight a fear, Obaa-San. Hold +Aoyagi fast—with all your love.—I shall find the Gaki of Kokoru! (<i>The +Gaki smites the tree again and again, and at each stroke Aoyagi fails more +and more until she finally crumples in a heap among the three old women</i>) +All strength!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> All faith to me! Into my hands give the power to break the +bitterest hell asunder! Into my eyes put light that I may see the cowardly +fears that infest our way.—Gaki! Gaki! where are you?—I pass about you +and in my heart I carry fearlessness and faith.—Upon your wickedness I +hurl belief.—Ah, now, I see you.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Let me go! Let me go!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>You shall bring misery into no more hearts!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Ah, pity me! Let me go! I must feed or I shall die!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>You shall feed no more!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Do not let me die in this sixth hell! Do not let me die! Once I was +human—like you and you. I came into this hell because I was bitter in +life.—I made misery for others.—I put mischief in their minds.—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI (<i>leaping upon him</i>)</p> + +<p>You shall make no more misery.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Let me feed! Let me live! I can not die thus.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI (<i>throttling him</i>)</p> + +<p>Dread demon, the end has come!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Please—please—hear me.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Nay, you have made your last horror in our lives.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Riki! Hear him—hear him.—We know not what we do, perhaps.</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Then speak.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Let me go! Do you think it did not punish me to see your misery, to bring +misery upon you? That is what these hells are. In life we can not always +see what wretchedness we make; in the hells we see and know and understand, +but we can not escape our evil until we've sucked the bitterness, the +horror to the blackest end. Oh—five hells lie between me and human life. +In each I may perchance forget the lesson learned before. Let me live! Let +me live!—I can not fight your faith!—Let me live!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>What further harm will you do?</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I cannot help myself. I must live on you.—You are young—</p> + +<p>[<i>He tears himself from Riki and once more rushes to the tree. Aoyagi +writhes a moment in agony. Riki leaps upon The Gaki, throttling him once +more. The struggle is terrific.</i></p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Die!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Let me go! Let me live!—I promise anything—I—</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Too late!—You shall harm no more!</p> + +<p>[<i>With one supreme effort, The Gaki draws himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> to his full height and +seems about to crush Riki. He leaps upon the prostrate Aoyagi and flings +her body high above his head. Riki starts for him.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>I shall live! I shall live!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Aoyagi!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Come not near me, Riki, or I shall crush her at your feet. I <i>shall</i> live!</p> + +<p>[<i>He laughs the hideous laugh of triumph which rang out on the mountain +side yesterday.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Give her back to us! Feed on me!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>In your heart there is only hope and beautiful memory. Old fool, I can not +feed on you.—But now in my arms I hold the precious gift by which I shall +pass from hell to hell.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>Take me!</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Silly old woman, you, too, like Obaa-San, can not feed me. Age learns to +grasp at bubbles and pretend that they are stars.</p> + +<p class="center">O-KATSU-SAN</p> + +<p>But I shall dream of my little girl.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Ay, dream of her and have tender memories that are not pain.</p> + +<p class="center">O-SODE-SAN</p> + +<p>I shall think of him and long for him, my lover.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>Ay, and in the memory of the firefly fête you'll make a poem that will +leave you all melting-like and holy—then where shall I feed?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>Obaa-San, are you content? I'll let her die at my own hand before I'll let +him live.</p> + +<p>[<i>He draws his dagger and leaps toward The Gaki; but old Obaa-San is too +swift for him. She catches his hand.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>Riki! Would you kill the evil by killing the joy of us all?</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>But the joy—my little Aoyagi—can not live so. See—</p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>O Gaki of Kokoru—I stand before you, no longer a suppliant. I am old and +in my years I have known all the wanting, all the hopelessness one can know +in life. But in your evil way, you brought to me a moment of happiness +yesterday and in that moment I saw the beauty that I had always believed +must be and yet that I had never known. In your evil arms you hold the +treasure of my life—you hold the songs that filled the heart of Riki. But +you do not feed, oh, Gaki of Kokoru. You can not feed. Oh, Gaki, what is +this sixth hell of yours?—Who made it? Some man who was afraid of the joy +of life;—it was too beautiful for his belief. Misery makes itself: so +happiness makes itself. You stand before us, holding the darling of our +dreams, but there is no misery<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> so great as yours. See! I stand before +you—unafraid—and in my heart lies happiness.—Aoyagi rested in my arms +and my breast is warm and there is a glory where her dear head lay. In my +life—if you take her from me—there will be an emptiness.—There will be +long silences in the days to come; but my breast will still be warm with +her touch and my ears will still hear the sweet words you cannot unsay—the +lullaby I sang.—Oh, Gaki—it has been sung to her.—The climbing to the +mountain gleaming in the sun—the glade where love found the perfect +mystery—that cannot be undone whether we live or die.—Love that has been +can never be undone.</p> + +<p>[<i>The Gaki looks from one to the other, but finds only that splendid +happiness that is almost pain. He loosens his hold upon Aoyagi and turns to +Riki with her.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>She is yours!—I have met perfect faith.—Five hells lie before me—but I +have met a perfect faith.—You cannot know what wonder I am knowing. From +the sixth hell I have seen a perfect faith.—I am content to die in this +shape. Strike, Riki!</p> + +<p class="center">RIKI</p> + +<p>I have my love.</p> + +<p class="center">THE GAKI</p> + +<p>But a peace has come upon me, a peace that I have never known.—I seem to +be on wings—afloat in the sky.—Stars and suns swing gently by—and cool +clouds brush my brow.—Five hells lie before me.—Can it be, in each I +shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> find peace like this?—(<i>He falls on his knees</i>) Now a fire rages +deep in me—a pain—I'm torn.—Oh, Obaa-San, I die—I die.—Come to +me—touch me—let me feel your gentle hands.—So! So!—I have never known +such gentleness.—Oh, I am cold—cold! Hold me—</p> + +<p>[<i>He rises—sways—and falls. It is full day. The Gaki rises wonderfully.</i></p> + +<p>Obaa-San—I see—I see.—The hells were made by some man afraid of the joy +of life.—It was too beautiful for his belief.—Riki—Aoyagi, there is the +mountain gleaming in the morning light.—Go—see your footprints side by +side.—A Gaki's feet trod upon them, but left no mark—and they are there +side by side.—O-Sode-San, I look across the River of Heaven;—there stands +your lover waiting for you—an empty boat is here to bear you to +him.—O-Katsu-San,—the messenger of the other world bears your little one +upon his broad, warm back.—They are smiling, O-Katsu-San—Obaa-San—</p> + +<p>[<i>He points to Riki and Aoyagi. Obaa-San goes to them and lays her hands +upon them.</i></p> + +<p class="center">OBAA-SAN</p> + +<p>My little girl!—my little boy!—Today the sun is very bright.</p> + + +<h4><i>The Curtains Close.</i></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE VERY NAKED BOY</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">An Interlude Before the Curtain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></span> +</h4> + +<h4>CHARACTERS</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">She</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">He</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Brother</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><i>The scene is half way to a proposal.</i></p> + +<p><i>A hallway with a heavily-curtained doorway in the centre. Right of this +are two chairs with a tabouret between them. Right and Left are curtained +arches.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>She enters quickly, crossing to the chairs.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>following breathlessly and almost colliding with her as she stops</i>)</p> + +<p>Genevieve!</p> + +<p class="center">SHE (<i>with a calmness strangely at variance with her entrance</i>)</p> + +<p>Well?</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Why did you—</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I didn't.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>I beg your pardon, you may not have known it, but you did.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I didn't.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>If you'll only say you didn't mean it.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I didn't <i>do</i> it.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Now, Genevieve, you know—</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I didn't.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Well, why did you—?</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p><i>I didn't do it!</i></p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>meltingly but without humor or subtlety</i>)</p> + +<p>Well, if you didn't do it, <i>dear</i>—</p> + +<p>[<i>She is adamant.</i></p> + +<p>Why did you run away the moment I came up to you?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I didn't run away—</p> + +<p>[<i>He looks at her quizzically.</i></p> + +<p>I just <i>came</i> out here.</p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>hoping it isn't true</i>)</p> + +<p>But you seemed to be trying to avoid me.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE (<i>with sphinx-like indifference</i>)</p> + +<p>Why should I avoid you?</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Genevieve! You make it impossible for me to talk to you.... I'll apologise +if it will help.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Why should you apologise?</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Perhaps I've misconstrued your meaning.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I didn't mean <i>anything</i>—</p> + +<p>[<i>He smiles pleasantly with more hope than discretion.</i></p> + +<p>—because I didn't do it.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Now, Genevieve, I saw you do it.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Gordon, from further discussion.</p> + +<p>[<i>She seats herself, fully prepared for all the discussion she can force +from him.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>But, Genevieve—</p> + +<p>[<i>He seats himself.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I didn't do it—and besides if I <i>did</i> what difference does it make? I'm +free white and twenty-one.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>with a frail attempt at humor</i>)</p> + +<p>How old did you say?</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I said I was free white.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>But, Genevieve, you must admit that—</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon!</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p><i>Please</i> call me Henry. (<i>In his emotion he pronounces it Hennery</i>)</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I don't see why I should.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>You did last night.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>That was different. You were Dr. Jekyll last night.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Oh, Genevieve—</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>You're showing your true colors tonight.</p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>appealingly</i>)</p> + +<p>I'm—sorry—</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>You're a tyrant.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>I don't mean to be. I think you're wo—</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Now don't be personal. I'm not interested in your thoughts.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>But, Genevieve, won't you tell me why you did it?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I did it because—I've told you often enough I <i>didn't</i> do it.</p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>bitterly</i>)</p> + +<p>Joe—</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Joe—what?</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Joe squeezed your hand.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Well, it's my hand, and besides I don't see why I should be +cross-questioned by you.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>You know I'm—</p> + +<p>[<i>He leans toward her and she moves away.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>You're what?</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>I'm crazy about you.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Please, Mr. Gordon!</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Call me Henry! Just once.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I don't see why I should.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Please, Genevieve.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Now don't be silly!</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Oh, Genevieve, if you only knew how it hurt me when you did it!</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p><i>Did</i> it hurt you?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>I could have killed Joe—gladly.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Honest!</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>You know—you must know!</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>You certainly are calm about it.</p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>in the most absurd position that hopeless love can twist a man into</i>)</p> + +<p>What can I do? I can't be ridiculous.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Did you really see us?</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Yes, I saw you.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>You seemed terribly tied up with Ethel.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>I had to sit by her.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I don't see why.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>I didn't have any place else to go.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I knew you were looking.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Then why did you do it?</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Don't ask me why. I loathe why.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>But oh, Genevieve, I love you so!</p> + +<p>[<i>He grasps her hand, not too violently. She gasps slightly, smiles +pleasantly and becomes stern.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">SHE (<i>encouragingly</i>)</p> + +<p>Please, let go of my hand.</p> + +<p>[<i>He does so. She looks at him in mingled wonder and chagrin.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Genevieve, isn't there any chance for me?</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I've never thought of such a thing. What do you mean!</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>I mean I love you.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>... Yes?</p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>taking her scarf in his hand</i>)</p> + +<p>Aren't you interested?</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Why, really, Mr. Gordon, you ask such strange questions.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Oh, Genevieve—Genevieve—</p> + +<p>[<i>He kisses the scarf gently.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SHE [<i>looking at him in wonder, disappointment and delight.</i></p> + +<p>Don't be silly.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>When a man's in love he always does silly things.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Always?</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Oh, Genevieve—</p> + +<p>[<i>He reaches for her hand reverently and this time she seems content to let +matters rest.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SHE (<i>making conversation</i>)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>I have the next dance with—</p> + +<p>[<i>She racks her memory.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Joe, I suppose.</p> + +<p>[<i>He rises and crosses to the far side of the centre arch.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SHE (<i>drawing her scarf about her and brushing against him as she passes.</i>)</p> + +<p>Excuse me, please.</p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>torrentially</i>)</p> + +<p>You shall not go. You <i>shall</i> listen to me. You have no right to treat me +as a plaything when I love you so! I love you so! I love you so! I think of +you all day long, I lie awake at night wondering what stars are looking +upon you and I find myself envying them—every one of them.</p> + +<p>[<i>She tries to speak, but he presses her head against his shoulder.</i></p> + +<p>I won't listen. You must hear me out. I've waited days and days and days +for this chance to speak to you, and you've trailed me about +like—like—like a poodle. I'm tired of it because I love you so.</p> + +<p>[<i>She tries to speak again; but succeeds only in mussing her hair.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>I want you to marry me, and marry me you shall if I have to carry you away +with me. Oh, Genevieve, my darling Genevieve, just know that for this +moment I am almost completely happy. You are close to me and I do not feel +any struggle against me. Oh, if you will only listen to me, I do not mean +to be brutal. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> have torn your dress. I have mussed your precious hair. +But I love you so! I love you so!</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Oh, Henry—Henry—You are so wonderful!</p> + +<p>[<i>They embrace one long moment when an arm comes out between the curtains +and tugs at his coat.</i></p> + +<p><i>He lets go of her as though he had been shot, turns and sees the naked arm +and the top of the Boy's head.</i></p> + +<p class="center">BOY (<i>whispering</i>)</p> + +<p>Get her out of here!</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Oh, Henry, Henry, have I been cruel to you?</p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>constrained</i>)</p> + +<p>We'd better go.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE (<i>looks questioningly at him</i>)</p> + +<p>Please let's stay here.</p> + +<p>[<i>He presses her head against his breast and looks surreptitiously at the +curtains.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Boy makes as though to get out.</i></p> + +<p><i>He starts violently—shoves the Boy back.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I saw you first—do you remember—at Poughkeepsie.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Yes, yes—</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I think—I liked you then.... But I never thought you'd be so wonderful.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Let's go (<i>whispering</i>). Darling, let's go.</p> + +<p><a name="p80i" id="p80i"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 575px;"> +<img src="images/ill-118.jpg" width="575" height="650" alt="The Very Naked Boy" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Very Naked Boy</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>No, I want to stay here. I love this nook.</p> + +<p>[<i>He laughs nervously as she crosses to the curtains.</i></p> + +<p>I should love to fill it full of great tall lilies.</p> + +<p>[<i>By this time she has become lyric and swept her arms against the +curtains: with a cry, rushing to him for protection.</i></p> + +<p>Henry, there's a man behind those curtains!</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>I think we'd better go.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Oh, Henry, you're not going to leave him here.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>We'd better.</p> + +<p class="center">BOY [<i>poking his head and a naked arm through the curtains.</i></p> + +<p>Yes, you'd better, because I'm going to get out of here.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p><i>Bob!</i> You get your clothes on!</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>I told Mr. Gordon to get my clothes.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon—</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Call him Henry—just once—please, Genevieve.</p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>stiffly</i>)</p> + +<p>I'll get your clothes. Where are they?</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>In my room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>What do you want?</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Everything.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE (<i>straightening up</i>)</p> + +<p>Don't be common, Robert.</p> + +<p>[<i>He starts for the door.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>No, I'm not going.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Hen—Mr. Gordon!... Very well. I'll go!</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>No, you won't go either!</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Please!</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Well, I'll go.</p> + +<p>[<i>Boy moves as though to part the curtains. She screams a stifled little +scream and both he and she rush to the curtains to hold them together.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Oh, Bob, if you won't get out I'll do anything for you.</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Well, I'm cold.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon, please go.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>I won't go!</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>You are very strange, indeed.... I'll go!</p> + +<p>[<i>She nears the door—Stops.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Never mind.</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Oh, Henry, it's Ethel.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Bob, won't you be a good sport? We'll turn our backs.</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>But will everybody else turn their back?</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Old man, can't you see how it is? We're—we're going to be engaged—and +Ethel is out there—and—and—well—</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Joe's out there, too.</p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Well, yes.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Bob, I shall tell Father on you.</p> + +<p>[<i>She starts.</i></p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>All right, go ahead. I'll tell Ethel.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Just wait.</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>I'll get out of here!</p> + +<p>[<i>Again the two rush precipitately to hold the Boy in place.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Bob, be a man! You are childish and common. You are old enough to know +better and I think it's an outrage for you to subject your sister to this +fright. We can't go out of here just now—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> you're making it very +embarrassing for us.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Mr. Gordon—there's a cape in that closet. Will you get it for Bob.... He +says he's cold.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes to the closet.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Bob, I'll get even with you. You ought to be ashamed. I'm humiliated.</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Why—Sis?</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Imagine my being with a gentleman and having a very naked boy pop into the +conversation.</p> + +<p>[<i>He returns with the cape.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Here's the cape.</p> + +<p>[<i>He tosses it over the Boy's head and suddenly leans over and kisses her.</i></p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Why don't you smother me!</p> + +<p>[<i>Boy begins to emerge.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Bob, be careful.</p> + +<p>[<i>He and She turn away.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Boy rises and as he does so the cloak falls about him until, when he +steps out of the curtains, he discloses trousers and shoes.</i></p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>I can't go through the hall looking like this.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>You must.</p> + +<p class="center">HE (<i>turning</i>)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>Go away, Bob. Your sister is very nervous.</p> + +<p>[<i>He sees the boy fairly well clothed. He gasps.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HE</p> + +<p>Why—</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Bob—</p> + +<p>[<i>Turning she sees the boy fairly well clothed.</i></p> + +<p>I thought—How did you—Why didn't you—What were you doing in there?</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Father was going to get strict and keep me off the water tonight and just +as I came down here to get my sweater I heard him coming to the coat room +so I jumped behind the curtains and let him pass and then Joe and Ethel +came in and I couldn't let them see me this way. And then somebody else +came and then you came in—well, I got cold.</p> + +<p>HE (<i>looking out</i>)</p> + +<p>Run on now, Bob, the hall is clear.</p> + +<p>[<i>Boy starts.</i></p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>What was it you did, Sis?</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I didn't do it.</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Why didn't you do it?</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>I didn't do anything.</p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>He said Joe squeezed your hand.</p> + +<p class="center">SHE</p> + +<p>Absurd!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">BOY</p> + +<p>Well, I hope not, because he and Ethel got engaged in here too!</p> + +<p>[<i>He and She look fondly at each other and He murmurs</i>, "Genevieve" <i>as he +reaches out for her</i>.</p> + +<p><i>The Boy begins to sing, "Oh, Genevieve, Sweet Genevieve," and they become +aware of him, turning upon him and pursuing him with a warning cry of</i> +"Bob."</p> + + +<h4><i>The End</i></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> +<h2>JONATHAN MAKES A WISH</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play in Three Acts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></span> +</h3> + +<h4>CHARACTERS</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Aunt Letitia</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Susan Sample</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Uncle Nathaniel</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Uncle John</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Jonathan</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mlle. Perrault</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Hank</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Albert Peet</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mary</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">John III</span><br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ACT I</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Jonathan Makes a Friend</span></h4> + + +<p>[<i>The scene represents the lumber room in the carriage house on John Clay's +suburban estate. The room is crowded with old trunks, paintings, barrels, +boxes, chests, furniture showing long residence during slow epochs of +changing taste. Everything is in good order and carefully labelled. At the +right of the room is a door opening onto the stairs which lead to the +ground floor. A small window is set high in the peak of the gabled end up +centre. At the left a chimney comes through the floor and cuts into the +roof as though it had been added by Victorian standards of taste for +exterior beautification. An open stove intrudes its pipe into the chimney. +The single indication of the life of today having touched the place is the +studied arrangement of an old rosewood square grand piano. The keyboard is +uncovered. On the top is a tiny theatre—a model masked and touched with +mystery, according to early adolescent standards. Two benches stand in +front of the piano, and the piano stool is meticulously set in place. A +flamboyant placard leaning against the music rack announces:</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">TODAY<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ZENOBIA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A tragedy in ten acts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alexander Jefferson, Sr.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><i>The light in the room is dim, although it is quite bright out of doors. +There are two low windows which are heavily barred. The little theatre is +so arranged that when the manipulator stands on the box to work it, his +head can be seen over the masking.</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><i>The curtain rises disclosing an empty room. Presently laborious steps are +heard on the stairs and a key is turned in the lock. Then Aunt Letitia +enters followed by Susan Sample. Aunt Letitia is a motherly old woman who +has been in the Clay home for many years. She may have preferences, but +like the buildings on the estate, she stays where she is. Susan Sample is a +tall, slender girl of fourteen with a very gentle manner and a way of +looking at people that indicates a receptivity rarely met in one so old. +Letitia goes to one of the trunks marked E R in large white letters and +unlocks it.</i></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Here they are, my dear. Help me with the hasps.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>What does E. R. really stand for, Mis' Letitia?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>E. R.... That's a secret, Susan, that little girls aren't supposed to +know.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>I won't tell.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>But what good would that do, my sweet? Please open the windows.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN (<i>opening the window and returning to her question</i>)</p> + +<p>No one would know you told me.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>I would know. Yes, I would know that I had told somebody else's secret.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Whose secret is it? Please.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>I've been living in this house for thirty-five years, Susan, and I've known +the secrets of all the boys and girls from time to time.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>You know mine, too.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>And I've never told one of them, either.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Does old Mr. John ever have secrets?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p><i>Old</i> Mr. John! For shame!... Of course he has secrets.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>I wish I knew some of his, Mis' Letitia.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>My dear, you never will know them. John is very quiet.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Who in the family didn't have any secrets at all?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Oh, they all had secrets when they were young. Nathaniel had <i>fewer</i> than +any of them and...</p> + +<p>[<i>Her words are lost tenderly in a memory.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Why hasn't he ever come back home?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA (<i>as she busies herself with the contents of the trunk</i>)</p> + +<p>That is his secret, Susan, and we mustn't ask too many questions. Nathaniel +is coming today. I won't ask any questions.... He was a fine young man. +Yes, he's coming back today, my dear. He was the baby of the family.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>How old is he now?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>You little chatterbox! Between you and Jonathan I have to fight to keep +anybody's secrets.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Does Jonathan ask many questions?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>When we're alone he does. He's just like his Uncle Nathaniel. God bless +him!</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN (<i>seeing a costume in the trunk</i>)</p> + +<p>Oh, isn't that just wonderful!</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA (<i>holding the costume up for Susan to see</i>)</p> + +<p><i>That</i> is what you can wear in the pageant, my dear Susan.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN (<i>taking the costume</i>)</p> + +<p>Oh! Oh! Oh!... I wish I knew whose it was.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Would that make it any prettier?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>No, but I'd like to know just the same.... Was it E. R.'s?</p> + +<p>[<i>A cry is heard outside</i>, "Aunt Letty! Aunt Letty!"</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Oh, Susan, it's Nathaniel! It's my boy. Here I am, dear.</p> + +<p>[<i>She has an armful of costumes which she drops nervously.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Mis' Letitia, I believe you love him best of all!</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>No, I don't, but I always understood him, I think.</p> + +<p>[<i>The voice below calls again</i>, "Where are you?"</p> + +<p>Come up here, my boy. Come up to the lumber room.</p> + +<p>[<i>Steps are heard on the stairs, young eager steps, and Nathaniel Clay +bursts into the room. He is an eternally young man of thirty-five, who has +touched the dregs and the heights of the world and remained himself.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL [<i>taking Letitia in his arms, then holding her from him as he +inspects her.</i></p> + +<p>Aunt Letty! Not a day older.... But oh, so wise.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Nathaniel, my boy, my darling, darling boy.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Now, now. Don't cry.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>My boy, my boy. My splendid boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>Susan has forgotten her costume in her admiration for Nathaniel. She puts +it down on the bench in front of the piano.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>And this is—</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>This is Susan Sample.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Not—</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Yes, time has been flying, Nathaniel. This young lady is Mary Sample's +daughter.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>How do you do? I can't believe it. You were only a little pink cherub up +there in the sky when I ran—</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA (<i>hurriedly interrupting him</i>)</p> + +<p>Yes, Susan was born three years after you went away.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Oh!... And, Aunt Letitia, you've opened Emily's trunk!</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Yes, Susan is going to be in a pageant.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Who was Emily?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>She was—</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Nathaniel dear, you must not satisfy her curiosity.</p> + +<p>(<i>To Susan</i>)</p> + +<p>You go find Jonathan, dear, and tell him that his uncle is here.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>(<i>To Nathaniel</i>)</p> + +<p>I'll put these things away, and we'll go into the house.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN (<i>reluctantly</i>)</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Mr. Clay.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Susan. You'll come back, won't you?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Oh, yes. Good-bye.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Good-bye.</p> + +<p>[<i>Susan goes out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>She hates to go. She's never seen anyone just like you: and I have only +seen one.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Who's Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>He's the one.... He's Emily's boy.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You mean Emily—</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>No, no, my dear. Emily was married, left the stage. She wasn't happy. The +boy was her only comfort.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>He's my nephew. Why, I'm Uncle Nathaniel. Oh, Aunt Letty, I'm getting to be +an old man!</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Nathaniel, Jonathan doesn't know about his mother. I sent Susan away +because I didn't want her to associate these things with Jonathan's +mother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>My God, Emily didn't do anything wrong.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Well, she was an actress.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>And a good one, too.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Yes, yes, dear. All that has been talked over many times, but John is the +head of the family and he doesn't approve of the stage.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>So! John is still himself.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>John is austere, Nathaniel. He is a Clay through and through and he holds +to the traditions of the family.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I remember the traditions, Aunt Letitia.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>I never oppose John. He feels that he is right. But it <i>is</i> very hard +sometimes to live up to his rules.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Has he rules?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Well, he has ideas, dear—much like your father's. We might call them +rules.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Where is Emily?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Two years ago, Nathaniel.</p> + +<p>[<i>There is a moment's silence.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Did she ever go back to the stage?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>No. John forbade it.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>And John is still forbidding.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>John is the head of the family.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>So.... The Clay family is still an absolute monarchy.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Nathaniel, dear, will you promise me—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>with a smile</i>)</p> + +<p>I'll try.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Will you promise not to antagonize John?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Will John antagonize <i>me</i>? I came back to see my home—to see you, my dear +aunt. But I am a grown man now.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Won't you try to be patient? It will be pleasanter for me. And I have +waited so long to see you, Nathaniel. There are seventeen very, very long +years for us to talk about. Let John have his way.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well, I'll try for a few days. But I give you warning, my ideas have been +settling during the past few years, too.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Remember, he is used to being obeyed just as your father was.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes, I remember that, dear Aunt; but John isn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> my father. He is just a +brother to whom fate gave a fifteen years' start by birth.</p> + +<p>[<i>As a voice calls</i>, "Nathaniel, are you up there?" <i>Nathaniel looks at +Letitia.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>His voice is just the same. (<i>Calling</i>) Yes, John, I am up here.</p> + +<p>[<i>The antagonism between the two brothers is apparent immediately.</i></p> + +<p><i>John Clay enters. He is an austere, pompous man of fifty who has the +softness of the tithe-collector and the hardness of the tax-collector. He +speaks with an adamantine finality which is destined to rude shattering.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>How do you do, Nathaniel?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I am very well, I thank you, John. How are you?</p> + +<p>[<i>They shake hands perfunctorily.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You arrived ahead of time.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>We haven't met for seventeen years.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No. I've been away, John.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Where have you been?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I shall be here for two weeks, John, and if I should tell you all about +myself today, I should have nothing to talk about tomorrow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN (<i>severely</i>)</p> + +<p>You haven't changed, Nathaniel. You are still frivolous.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I shall be serious when I am your age, brother.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I came out here to ask you to be very careful of your conversation before +the children.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>The children?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Yes, my two grandchildren.—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Grandchildren! My, that makes me a great uncle. I <i>am</i> getting old, Aunt +Letitia!</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I do not care to have them or Jonathan hear about any revolutionary or +other unusual ideas.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I shall try not to contaminate the children and Jonathan. How old are the +children?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Mary is four and John 3rd is two.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I shall try to spare their sensibilities.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>They may not understand you but they will hear.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>to Letitia</i>)</p> + +<p>How old is Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Fourteen.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>The impressionable age.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>The silly age.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Brother John, no age is the silly age. Fourteen is the age of visions and +enchantments and fears. What a boy of fourteen sees and hears takes on a +value that we cannot underestimate. Most men are defeated in life between +fourteen and twenty. At fourteen a boy begins to make a lens through which +he sees life. He thinks about everything. Ambition is beginning to stir in +him and he begins to know why he likes things, why he wants to do certain +things. He formulates lasting plans for the future and he takes in +impressions that are indelible. Things that seem nothing to old people +become memories to him that affect his whole life. The memory of a smile +may encourage him to surmount all obstacles and the memory of a bitterness +may act as an eternal barrier.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Nathaniel, are you a father?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No, John, I am only a bachelor who is very much in love with life in +general and one lady in particular.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You can know nothing of children, then.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I remember myself. Most men forget their younger selves and that is fatal.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>One would think to hear you talk that the most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> important things in life +were a boy of fourteen and his moorings.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>One might know it.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You are still the same impractical theorist.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I am the same theorist—a little older, a little more travelled. The +trouble with you, John, is that you think no age is important except your +own. You always thought that, even when you were fourteen. Oh, I know I +wasn't born then, but I know you.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Did you come back to your home in order to lecture me?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No, no, I beg your pardon. I came back to see my home and Aunt Letitia and +the children—and you, and I—I think—Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Nathaniel, when your letter came telling me that you had decided to come +back to see us, I was going to ask you not to come—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I gave no address.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>But on second thought, I made up my mind to forgive you—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Thank you.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>To let bygones be bygones.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>That is the better way, brother: let the dead past bury its dead.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Why did you run away from home?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Because we couldn't agree, John.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I was older than you; my judgment was mature; I was the head of the family, +in my father's place.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>We didn't speak the same language. I wanted something out of life that you +couldn't understand; that my father couldn't understand. I determined to +get it by myself.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Well?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>And so, I ran away.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Leaving no trace, no word.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, I left a very important word—"Good-bye."</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You were willing to leave all the work of our father's business on my +shoulders.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You were willing to take it all. And I wanted my freedom.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You were selfish and heartless.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Selfish? Because I had my life to live and meant to live it?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You should have told us where you were living.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I preferred to work out my salvation alone, without interference. My going +away gave you a free hand. John, don't tell me that you were not overjoyed +that my flight gave you all my father's fortune.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>It was my duty as head of the family to protect you.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I didn't ask for protection. I wanted understanding.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>A boy of eighteen must not be allowed freedom.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Perhaps not, John, but he must be allowed to grow toward his goal. Eighteen +is not too young for a man to fly through the air in defense of his +country, or you. The burden of the world today is on the shoulders of men +from eighteen to eighty, share and share alike.... I wanted to be a +writer—</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>And our brother Henry wanted to be a musical composer and our sister Emily +wanted to be an actress! A fine putout for the leading commercial family of +this state!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well, John, our brother and our sister have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> paid the final penalty. They +have died. Henry left a handful of worthless little tunes and Emily left a +trunkful of costumes as monuments to their folly. And now Emily's boy is +here under your wing.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>He's a dreamer like all the rest of you.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>with interest; tenderly</i>)</p> + +<p>Yes?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>He spends all his leisure time playing with that fool toy there.</p> + +<p>[<i>He points to the model theatre.</i></p> + +<p><i>Nathaniel smiles and crosses to the piano and lifts the cloth that covers +the theatre; then he looks at the placard and laughs joyously.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>"Zenobia." " Alexander Jefferson, Sr."</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>He pretends that's his name—Alexander Jefferson, Sr!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>People like to have other names. Look at all artists—like writers, +pugilists, and actors, and base ball players. And the Sr. Is an effort to +appear older.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Well, I'm breaking him of all that nonsense. I allow him only a certain +number of hours for play. Emily used to spoil him and it's been a task to +conquer him.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Jonathan is fourteen. When I was fourteen—What are Jonathan's tastes?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>He reads all the time and he wants to write plays and poetry; but I am +conquering that silliness.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I think I am going to like my nephew. John, I'll come into the house +shortly. I think I'll look at this toy a moment and I'll get Aunt Letitia +to show me some of Emily's things. A mere matter of sentiment.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Now don't put any foolishness into the boy's head.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I promise you I sha'n't try to change the boy's head, brother.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I play golf from five to six.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Oh, you've taken up athletics?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>The doctor's advice. Will you join me?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Thank you, no.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Very well. I'll see you at dinner.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Thank you. (<i>John goes out. Nathaniel looks musingly at Letitia who has +been sitting silently on Emily's trunk, knitting, Nathaniel crosses to her +and sits on a stool at her feet</i>) Does John always talk to you so much, +little church mouse?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>I have been a poor relation for thirty-five years, my boy, and to be a +successful poor relation, one must learn the art of silence.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No wonder I ran away!</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>But you should have written to me.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Perhaps—I should—yes—I should have written, but I didn't. You see, Aunt +Letty, I was a sensitive boy. All my life I had dreamed of doing my own +work. I saw Henry disappointed in life, I saw Emily made miserable enough +through the traditions of the family. John couldn't understand me and I +couldn't understand him. There was no common meeting-ground. John was the +head of the family and so deeply was the idea of submission to rule +ingrained in me that I could think of only one way out of my restraint. I +wouldn't study engineering, and I wouldn't continue at Somerset School. +Well, I ran away from my ancestral castle to find my way in a new world. I +think I have found it.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Jonathan doesn't want to study engineering, either.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>Looks closely at her a moment and then smiles</i>)</p> + +<p>As Ibsen would say—Ghosts! (<i>He walks toward the window</i>) Poor John!</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Poor Jonathan!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>At this moment Jonathan enters the room. He is a slender boy of fourteen +with a deep problem in his eyes. When he smiles before his elders, which is +seldom, he seems always prepared to restrain the smile. His voice is just +changing and this adds to his reticence. He has a tremendous capacity for +expressing wonderment and, as usual with one of his type, he is capable of +great displays of temper. He gives the impression of thinking about +everything he sees. He is at the age of wonder and only custom prevents the +world from becoming the promised land of visions and enchantments.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Poor Jonathan!</p> + +<p>[<i>He turns and sees the boy.</i></p> + +<p><i>The two stand face to face for a moment. For Nathaniel it is the first +moment of a new relationship. For Jonathan it is a moment of uncertainty. +He has heard himself called "Poor Jonathan" and he is facing another male +relative.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan looks first at Letitia, then at Nathaniel and then at Letitia.</i></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Jonathan, this is your Uncle Nathaniel. Nathaniel, this is Emily's boy.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>Holds out his hand which Jonathan takes very shyly</i>)</p> + +<p>Jonathan!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>How do you do, sir?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>How tall you are!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>quite conscious of his short trousers</i>)</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I didn't take you away from any studies, did I?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, sir.... I was just writing something when Susan called me.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>May I ask what you were writing?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir....</p> + +<p>[<i>He swallows.</i></p> + +<p>... A play.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>A play! <i>Zenobia</i>?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>Looks quickly for some indication of laughter in Nathaniel's +eyes</i>)</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>It's a tragedy, isn't it?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>In ten acts.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>There may be only eight.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Then I know who you are! (<i>Jonathan looks at him in surprise</i>) You are the +celebrated dramatist, Alexander Jefferson, Sr.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Did Aunt Letitia tell you?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No, sir. I read it on the billboards. (<i>Jonathan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> laughs with a catch in +his breath</i>) And I should like to attend a performance, Mr. Jefferson.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>It isn't finished yet.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well, when am I to see this theatre?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Your Uncle Nathaniel and I shall come together.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You've seen all the plays.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>That doesn't make any difference. I'd like to see them again.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan looks at her to be sure she is in earnest. Then he smiles.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'll finish <i>Zenobia</i> for tomorrow.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Agreed! Can you get the scenery ready?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I painted it last week.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>You must have the orchestra, too, Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, ma'am. Susan has some new pieces.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Is Susan the orchestra?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What else have you written?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>A lot of plays, sir. Mother and I used to write little plays. I don't write +many any more.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Why not?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm getting too big.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Do you ever write anything beside plays?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>That's splendid. Stories?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.... And I've written some po—poetry.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Excellent!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>They're not very good, but Susan always wants me to write the poetry for +the music.</p> + +<p>[<i>Aunt Letitia has repacked the trunk and locked it. She sees that +Nathaniel and Jonathan are getting on famously.</i></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>I'll go to the house now and you can talk to Jonathan, Nathaniel.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan looks appealingly at Letitia, but with a smile she goes +downstairs.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan and Nathaniel look at each other for an embarrassed minute, then +Jonathan takes refuge at his theatre.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>May I see some of your plays?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Do you really want to see them?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan goes to a box on the piano in which there are many manuscripts +carefully bound. He hands one to Nathaniel.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Here is one that mother and I wrote. She loved the theatre.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>taking the strange-looking little manuscript.</i> <i>Reading</i>:)</p> + +<p>"Robin Hood and His Merry Men."</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>We used to make all those old stories into plays.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Do you like to write?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, yes. I wish I could write real plays, but there's no one to help me +now. My mother used to correct them and tell me what was wrong. She knew a +lot about the theatre and she used to tell me all sorts of things. But now +Aunt Letitia doesn't say anything. Sometimes she comes to a show, but she +can't help me. And Uncle John doesn't like the theatre. He thinks I'm too +old to give shows, but I can't help it. There's nothing I like so much.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>May I read this some time?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.... Would you like to see it played?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I want to see them all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Forty-one of them?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Forty-one of them! Where do you keep them all?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Here in this box.</p> + +<p>[<i>He shows all the manuscripts.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What are the pink ones?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Those are the ones mother liked best and these—(<i>showing blue ones</i>) are +the ones I liked best.... I like them all now, but it used to be lots of +fun to choose our favorites.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What is this one that's different from all the rest?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>That's one that mother wrote all by herself. It's best of all.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You must save these carefully, Jonathan—all your life.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Some day you may be proud of them.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>See—she wrote this, and I wrote this. I was a bad writer, wasn't I?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What do you want to do, Jonathan?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You mean what do I want to be?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I want to write plays.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Is that all?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Well, I'd like to run a theatre.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What else?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'd—you won't tell anyone, will you?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Of course not.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You see, Uncle John wants me to go to Somerset School to study engineering +and learn the business.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>And you don't want to—Is that it?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'd rather be a writer.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>They say you can't make any money at writing.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>That's what Uncle John says, but I want to just the same.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>If you follow John's advice, you'll be a rich man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'd rather be poor. What would you do, Uncle Nathaniel?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I—why I'd—Oh, come now, Jonathan—you know John is the head of the Clay +family and you and he must decide this question.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Wouldn't you want to be what you want to be?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Perhaps I should.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I don't see how anyone can decide what you want to be—no matter how old he +is.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Have you ever talked to John?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What did he say?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He said I had to study engineering or go to work in the factory next fall +for good.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What do you want to do?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I want to go to a fine prep school and then to college and then—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Then what?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I want to be an actor!!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I see.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't tell anybody.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I won't. That's pretty far from engineering, isn't it?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir. But everybody can't be alike. You and Uncle John aren't anything +alike.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>And we're brothers, too.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Do you ever get all mixed up and don't know what to do?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Oh, yes. I think everybody does.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>What do you do then?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I do something very silly.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Do you do silly things, too?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes. I'm afraid I do.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>What do you do when you get all mixed up?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I'll tell you—it might not work with everybody, you know—but it works +with me.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>My mother used to sing me a song called—"There is a green hill far away." +I always liked that song because it gave me a feeling of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> contentment and +happiness. I imagined that I could see that hill with its pleasant green +slopes and at its foot lay a little cottage all cool and pleasant and open +to the winds. There were no locks and bolts to keep one out or to keep one +in. I used to imagine that I was climbing that hill to the top of the world +and when I reached the summit I could see—</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>enthralled</i>)</p> + +<p>I know—the whole wide world.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Its very bigness made me happy in my imagination.... Then when I grew up +and heavy troubles came to me I remembered the Green Hill Far Away and one +day I found such a hill and I climbed it—clear to the top—and there below +me lay the world—the whole wide world—and I told the world something then +and felt the better for it.... Jonathan, there is nothing like a hilltop to +make a man feel worth while.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I know what you mean.... But I always want to jump when I look down from +any place, do you?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I suppose everybody does.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Uncle John thinks every boy ought to be alike.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Many schools used to think that way.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>But boys don't all think the same. They're different<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> just like men, only +they don't know so much.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Perhaps not.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Uncle John won't let me put on long pants until I'm fifteen.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>He let me put them on when I was fifteen, too.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Were you as tall as I am?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Just about the same height, but my legs were like pipe stems and I was very +much ashamed.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>So am I.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You'll forget all about it after you're fifteen.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I can talk to you like I used to talk to my mother.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Thank you. We're going to be fine friends, aren't we?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You bet. Is it silly for me to like to write plays?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Why do you ask that?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Because Uncle John says it's silly.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well, it all depends upon the way you look at it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> Jonathan. The world has +never been able to agree as to what is and what is not silly. Mr. Browning, +the poet, might have considered hooks and eyes the silliest things in the +world; but to Mr. de Long, they were, no doubt, the most important things +in the world. Many men agree with Mr. Browning and many ladies agree with +Mr. de Long.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>That's what I think.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You and I probably have many thoughts in common.</p> + +<p>[<i>Susan and Mlle. Perrault enter. Mlle. Perrault is a Frenchwoman of +exquisite grace and poise. She speaks English fluently, but with a charming +accent and an occasional Gallic phrase larding her pleasant sentences. Her +entrance into the room is electric. She has already won Susan.</i></p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Ah, there you are, Mr. Nathaniel Clay. I met la belle Susanne in the +roadway and she told me you were in the lumber room in the carriage house +and I say to her, "We shall track him to his lair." Besides, I want to see +what a lumber room is.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I was hiding from you.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Villain! And this is Jonathan. How do you do? Susanne tells me you write +poetry and she writes music and she promise me that you will sing for me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I can't sing.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Ah! Susanne tell me you have a theatre and you write plays and paint +scenery and write poetry and sing songs and she say if I come here to the +lumber room in the carriage house you will play me a tragedy and sing me a +song.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Having introduced yourself to everybody, will you tell me, Susan, how Mlle. +Perrault learned so much in such a little time?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Well, I was waiting for Jonathan to call me.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, I forgot.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>She was sitting like a little fairy in the grass by the roadway, and I stop +my car and ask for Mr. Nathaniel Clay and she say you are here in the +lumber room in the carriage house and she tell me many things—because we +like each other very, very much and we walk very, very slowly.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Now! Now that you know all about Miss Susan Sample and Mr. Jonathan—(<i>He +realizes he doesn't know Jonathan's second name</i>) I think I shall introduce +you by your pen name, Jonathan—Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr.</p> + +<p>(<i>To Mlle. Perrault</i>)</p> + +<p>I am going to let them know about you. This,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> lady and gentleman, is Mlle. +Marthe Perrault of Paris, France. Mlle. Perrault, may I present my friend +Susan and my nephew Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT (<i>falling into the mood</i>)</p> + +<p>I am very, very pleased to see you again, Miss Sample. It is a great +pleasure to have the honor of meeting you, Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr. I +am looking forward to the première of your great tragedy, <i>Zenobia</i>, of +which Miss Sample has been telling me.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN (<i>Puts her arms about Mlle. Perrault and Jonathan is uncertain +whether to be happy or afraid</i>)</p> + +<p>He wrote lots of others, too.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Forty-one.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I think I'll tell you two a secret. (<i>Susan pricks up her ears</i>) Do you +like secrets?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>And can you keep them?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well, some day Mlle. Perrault is going to be my wife.</p> + +<p>[<i>He kisses Mlle. Perrault's hand.</i></p> + +<p><i>Mlle. Perrault shows her engagement ring.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>When?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Very soon. She is here on some war work and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> when she and her father go +back to France I shall follow and we shall be married.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Ooh—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Now you mustn't tell.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Honest.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, sir!</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Now, we have a secret. And you are going to sing me a little song.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Come on, Jonathan. Let's do the new one.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Well, I'll try.</p> + +<p>[<i>He is quite miserable with stage-fright.</i></p> + +<p><i>Susan sits at the piano and plays a chord. Then Jonathan begins to sing +with much fear in his voice.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>singing</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All on a summer's day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With flowers by the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fair young prince and his purple knight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Found a princess at her play.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So by the crescent moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He asked a royal boon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sat him down on a soft green knoll—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the night-time came too soon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Oh, that is just like a little French peasant song! How does it go? +La—la—la—la—la—la.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>Susan begins to play it again.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan sings more surely than before.</i></p> + +<p><i>Slowly Mlle. Perrault falls into the rhythm and very simply dances a +little peasant dance to Jonathan's and Susan's song. The two youngsters are +in the seventh heaven of delight.</i></p> + +<p>So—when one is very happy or very sad, he makes a song and when he's very, +very happy, he dances. And when he is very, very, very unhappy he dies. You +see, <i>I</i> am very, very happy. When do you play <i>Zenobia</i>, Mr. Jefferson, +Sr.?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'll have it ready tomorrow, maybe tonight.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>We shall have a season ticket. But now, I want you to meet my blessed Aunt +Letitia. She hasn't changed one bit in all these years.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>To Aunt Letitia then. Good-bye, Jonathan. Tomorrow is the day of the great +première.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>awkwardly</i>)</p> + +<p>Thanks.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>And la belle petite Susanne, au revoir.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>I'll walk with you part of the way.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Very well. Marchons, marchons....</p> + +<p>[<i>They go out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>holding back a little</i>)</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Mr. Manager.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out calling</i> "Marthe."</p> + +<p><i>Jonathan is left alone in his joy</i>. <i>As he stands,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> a strange, aimless, +vacuous whistling is heard outside the window an though from one ambling +by. Jonathan hears it unconsciously, moves to put his plays away, +alternately whistling and singing "All on a summer's day."</i></p> + +<p><i>Presently the whistling of the strange air is heard as though coming from +downstairs. It stops and a voice calls out</i> "Hi!"</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Who is it?</p> + +<p class="center">VOICE</p> + +<p>It's me.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>What do you want?</p> + +<p>[<i>By this time the Voice has become a person in the shape of Hank, one of +the scum of creation who asks nothing of life and gives nothing. He was +born of woman and he grew into man's form, but one looking at him wonders +how he survived dirt and the mere effort of breathing. He is stoutish with +no marked coloring unless it be a cross between khaki and field-gray. +Weather and time have conspired to render him inconspicuous. When he speaks +his voice is produced with a careful effort to conserve energy. When he +walks it seems to be a movement in answer to prayer rather than a physical +fact.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Say—</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>How'd you get in here?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Well, it's this way, you see. The gate was open<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> out there and this looked +pretty fine to me so I come in.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You'd better go away before my uncle sees you.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Look here, young feller, I ain't goin' a-do no harm.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Well, he doesn't allow strangers on the place.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>I jus' come in to ask if I could sleep somewhere around here if I worked +for my sleep and grub.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, he won't let you.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>How do you know he won't?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>'Cause it's a rule.</p> + +<p>[<i>Hank whistles a snatch of the strange air and sits down.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Where's your pa?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He's dead.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Long?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Ten years ago.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>How old are you?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Fourteen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Your pa died when you were four. So did mine.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Did you ever have an uncle?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>How many you got?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I got two living and one dead.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>All three of mine's dead.</p> + +<p>[<i>He whistles a snatch of the strange air and takes a chew of tobacco.</i></p> + +<p>Where's your ma?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>Is about to become impatient, but an innate tolerance causes him +to answer</i>)</p> + +<p>She died when I was twelve.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>So did mine. (<i>Whistles</i>) We're alike in lots of ways, ain't we?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>What did you do when your mother died?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>I felt pretty sorry.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Did your brothers and sisters help you any?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Have you any brothers and sisters?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No—</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Me neither. (<i>Whistles casually</i>) No one took no notice of me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>What'd you do?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>I went away.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Why didn't you try to work?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Couldn't find nothing suitable. 'T first I felt sort o' worried an' then I +kep' walkin' on and I seen so much trouble where I went I says to myself, +"Hank, you're lucky," I says. "You ain't got no fam'ly to bother you an' +you ain't got nothing to worry you an' you don't have to get no place in +partic'lar and you don't have to stay no place." A man wot's got a wife's +all the time worrying about her health or her money spendin' or her gaddin' +or her naggin'. An' a man w'ots got a fam'ly's always wondering where +they'll end. An' a man's wot's got a home's all time worrying about keepin' +it locked up. I bet the poor nut wot owns this place can't breathe easy for +bein' scared things'll be took or burnt up. W'y you—look at +you—(<i>Whistles</i>) You're wishin' I'd go 'cause you're 'fraid I'll take +somethin'. I won't take nothin', young feller, 'cause I don't need nothin' +now and I won't need nothin' till it's cold again—and then I'll git an +overcoat maybe. It's too much trouble takin' things—'cause you have to +carry 'em. (<i>Whistles</i>) You goin' to let me sleep here some place?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I can't. My uncle would drive you away. Maybe he'd have you arrested.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>I ain't done nothin'. I ain't hurtin' nobody.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Well, he doesn't allow strangers around.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK (<i>Whistles. At the window</i>)</p> + +<p>That's where I went by jus' now.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I heard you whistling.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>That's a tune I made up once. (<i>Whistles</i>)</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Do you make up tunes?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>That's the only one I ever done. It comes in handy and it don't hurt no +one.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan unconsciously tries to whistle a phrase of the tune.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>No, that ain't it. It's this way.</p> + +<p>[<i>Whistles.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan tries it again and fails.</i></p> + +<p>No. Here.</p> + +<p><i>Jonathan makes it this time.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>That's it. Say, what you got these bars for? It's like jail. Are they +afraid you'll jump out on them rocks?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, I guess not. There isn't much danger of my wanting to jump out.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>You never can tell for sure, young feller.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>It's to keep people from climbing in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>There ain't no bars over that one. (<i>Pointing to gable window</i>)</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>That's too high.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>It'd be like fallin' off the top of a house, wouldn't it?</p> + +<p>[<i>Whistles.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan whistles "All on a Summer's Day."</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>What you got there?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>That's my theatre.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>A show?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>How does it work?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>These are the actors.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>What's the string fer?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You put him in a groove and pull him.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Lemme see it.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>All right. I'll show you a scene from the play I'm going to play for my +Uncle Nathaniel tomorrow.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Fire away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan lights the lamps that are back of the screen and pulls the +blinds or some cover over the barred windows.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>I wouldn't have all this junk if you'd give it to me. No, sir, when I move +I carry my house with me and there ain't much o' that now. (<i>Indicates his +clothes</i>)</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>All ready. Now you sit there.</p> + +<p>[<i>Places Hank on the bench.</i></p> + +<p><i>He goes behind the screen and taps some bells.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>What's that fer?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>That's to get ready.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Well, I'm ready.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan opens the curtain and discloses a scene from Zenobia.</i></p> + +<p>That's beautiful. It's just like real.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan pulls a figure across the stage.</i></p> + +<p>Hello, old man. That's the one I jus' seen. Where's the string?</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan lifts the string.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Here it is.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Now where's that feller goin' to?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>coming out from behind the screen</i>)</p> + +<p>Well, you see, <i>Zenobia</i>—</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p><i>Zenob</i>—God, what a name!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>They used to have names like that.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>How d' you do it?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Look, I'll show you a little.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes behind the screen and closes the curtain.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>What you doin' that for? I like to see that picture.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm going to show you how I do it.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan rings the bells.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>All right. I'm ready. Let her go.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan opens the curtain and pulls a character on, then another.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>in assumed voice</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hail, noble duke."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"All is well, I ween."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Say, are they talkin' to each other?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Which is the noble duke?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>pulling a string</i>)</p> + +<p>This one.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK.</p> + +<p>And the other one's name is Iween, ain't it?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, his name is Rollo.</p> + +<p><a name="p130i" id="p130i"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/ill-170.jpg" width="650" height="535" alt="Jonathan Makes a Wish + +Act I." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Jonathan Makes a Wish<br /> + +Act I.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>All right, fire ahead. I guess you know what you're doing.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>in assumed voice</i>)</p> + +<p>"Hail, noble duke."</p> + +<p>"All is well, I ween."</p> + +<p>"Not very well, noble duke."</p> + +<p>"What is wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Queen Zenobia is very mad, noble duke."</p> + +<p>"What is she mad about, Rollo?"</p> + +<p>[<i>Uncle John enters suddenly.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Jonathan—</p> + +<p>[<i>He sees Hank.</i></p> + +<p>What does this mean?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>I'm seein' a show.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You get out of here this instant.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>I ain't hurtin' nothin', mister, but I'll git out if you say so.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>What do you mean by this, Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>I'll git out. Thank you fer the show, boy.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out whistling.</i></p> + +<p><i>John crosses to the door.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN (<i>calling after Hank</i>)</p> + +<p>Come on, get out of here quickly.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK (<i>off</i>)</p> + +<p>I'm out, mister.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Now, Jonathan, what do you mean by bringing such people into this place?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I didn't bring him in. He came up while I was working.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Do you call that silly stuff <i>working</i>?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I was getting it ready for Uncle Nathaniel.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>He's been putting that nonsense in your head, has he?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He asked me to let him see all my plays.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I suppose he told you to ask that dirty tramp in here.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, sir. He didn't see the tramp.</p> + +<p>[<i>Hank is heard whistling.</i></p> + +<p><i>John crosses to one of the windows and opens it.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN (<i>calling</i>)</p> + +<p>You get away from there. Move on.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK'S VOICE</p> + +<p>I guess the roadside's free, mister.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>We'll see about that.</p> + +<p>[<i>Hank whistles.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Jonathan, I won't have you waste your time on this stuff. I've been pretty +lenient with you and I've allowed you to keep your toys because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> Emily +spoiled you; but you're too big for such things and I'm going to put my +foot down right now. I'm not going to have this silly stuff around.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Uncle Nathaniel doesn't think it's silly.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I'll decide what is and is not good for you.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>The same thing isn't good for everybody.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Don't talk back to me, young man.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I've got a right to think.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Jonathan!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>If my mother was living, she wouldn't call everything I like to do silly.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Your mother didn't know what was good for you.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>My mother was the best woman in the world.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>That will do, Jonathan. Your mother was my sister and I am not saying +anything against her. But I do say that stuff must go.</p> + +<p>[<i>He starts for the door.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>If this theatre goes, I go, too. I'm not—</p> + +<p>[<i>John walks over to the theatre and sweeps the whole structure onto the +floor.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Now.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You dirty coward, you—</p> + +<p>[<i>John turns upon the boy and strikes him across the face.</i></p> + +<p><i>In mingled rage and humiliation Jonathan sobs wildly once or twice, then +controls himself and glares violently at his uncle.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I'll let you think about it. I'll leave you here with your toys like a +girl-baby.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out the door, closing it and turning the key in the lock.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan runs to the door.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You let me out of here! You let me out of here!</p> + +<p>[<i>He pounds the door with his fists.</i></p> + +<p><i>Then he turns in despair and humiliation.</i></p> + +<p><i>He paces the floor a moment, not knowing what to do. Suddenly Hank's +whistle is heard. The boy listens as though fascinated and goes to the +window and watches Hank. Jonathan goes to his wrecked theatre and, taking +it up, piles his manuscripts, the pink and the blue, on it. He hesitates to +include one in the pile, offering once or twice to put it in his pocket, +but he finally places it in grim determination with the others. Then he +takes it off and stuffs it in his pocket. He stuffs the pile in the stove +and sets a match to it, watches it a moment, then writes on a piece of +paper, fastens it to the door. Then he finds a piece of rope on a packing +case,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> moves the ladder under the gable window, fastens the rope to a peg +in the wall, climbs the ladder, considers a moment, returns to the stove +with the beloved manuscript, stuffs it in the fire, remounts the ladder and +lets his weight onto the rope. As he disappears from view, the rope breaks +and a cry and sound of falling are heard.</i></p> + +<p><i>The flames from the burning theatre and manuscripts flicker against the +wall for a silent moment.</i></p> + +<p><i>The key is heard to turn in the lock and John and Nathaniel enter.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Jonathan!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>He's hiding.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Jonathan!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>Sees paper on door</i>)</p> + +<p>What's this?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>What does it say?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>"Good-bye!... Jonathan."</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN (<i>Looks suspiciously at Nathaniel</i>)</p> + +<p>Did you tell the silly boy about your running away?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I told Jonathan nothing about myself. You are the head of the Clay family +and out of custom I respected your position; but, by God, John, you're a +failure with this boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>He—</p> + +<p>[<i>Hank enters carrying Jonathan in his arms. Jonathan is limp and pitiful. +His clothes are torn. He is moaning pitifully.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>He fell on the rocks out there.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Put him over here.</p> + +<p>[<i>Hank places Jonathan on the bench near the piano. Nathaniel places the +costume, which Susan left there, under his head for a pillow.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>What was he doing?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>He was—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>This is no time for questions, John. Call a doctor.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan moans and rolls his head, looking vacantly at Hank now and +then.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>moaning</i>)</p> + +<p>Good-bye.... Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>We'd better take him in the house.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>My mother was the best woman—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>He'd better stay here until the doctor comes.</p> + +<p>[<i>John exits.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>All on a summer's day—</p> + +<p>[<i>All the time Nathaniel has been passing his hands over Jonathan.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>He's out of his head, ain't he?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Perhaps, but sometimes one's heart speaks in a delirium.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>He acts like his back's broke.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>My God—his back!</p> + +<p>[<i>Touches the boy's back.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan winces with pain.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>My back's broken, Hank.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Listen, he's saying my name. We wuz pals, sure nuff.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>My back's broken, Hank.</p> + + +<h4><i>Curtain.</i></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> +<h2>ACT II</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Six years have elapsed since Act I as years elapse in a +boy's imaginings.</p> + +<p>Throughout this act the characters are disclosed +without reason as in a dream; and the movement of the +act represents four terrors of a delirium—anxious +effort to make oneself known, a feeling of fetters, +climbing and a sudden fall.</p></div> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Jonathan Builds a Fear</span></h4> + + +<p>[<i>Before the curtain rises the voices of Jonathan, Hank, Nathaniel and John +are heard, muffled and far away.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>He fell on the rocks out there.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Put him over here.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>What was he doing?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>He was—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>This is no time for questions, John. Call a doctor.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Good-bye.... Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>We'd better take him in the house.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>My mother was the best woman—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>He'd better stay here until the doctor comes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>All on a summer's day—</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>He's out of his head, ain't he?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Perhaps, but sometimes one's heart speaks in a delirium.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>He acts like his back's broke.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>My God—his back!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>My back's broken, Hank.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Listen, he's saying my name. We wuz pals, sure nuff.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>My back's broken, Hank.</p> + +<p>[<i>The curtain has risen unnoticed.</i></p> + +<p><i>A faint light that grows steadily brighter as light does when one comes +out of a swoon discloses Jonathan and Hank seated on a log at the left of +the stage, where the bench had been. Jonathan seems much older, and he is +crooked and dirty and unkempt, and Hank is somewhat brutalised, less +negative.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>My back's broken, Hank.</p> + +<p>[<i>Hank looks at him.</i></p> + +<p>Tired?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Sure....<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I think Uncle Nathaniel would help me if he saw me.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>He couldn't do nothin' for you. You can't straighten a crooked back....</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Hank, I'm tired of this and I'm going back.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Going back where?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm going back home.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Your Uncle John won't let you in.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Uncle Nathaniel will take me in.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>He ain't there no more and besides he won't know you.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Honest—don't you think he would?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Sure, he wouldn't.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I wish I hadn't run away.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>If you don't quit wishing I'll run away from you.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You wouldn't leave me, would you, Hank?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Sure, I'd leave you.... What do you think I am—a wishing stone?... I want +peace, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> do.... An' your wishing's disturbing my peace.... Every day fer +six years you squeal about what you done.... Your Uncle John swatted you +and you burned your theatre things and jumped out o' the window and broke +your back and I saved you....</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I can't do anything with a broken back!</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>What do you want to do anything for?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Sometimes I'd like to write a little.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Go ahead.... I'll wait for you.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>And I'd like to give a show. You know, Hank, I used to want to be an +actor....</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Sure, all kids want to be actors or go in a circus or do something where a +lot o' people are lookin' on.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>But I can't be an actor now, because nobody'd want to look at me.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>You act like that hump's ruined your life, when all you got to do's crouch +over a little more and look sad and you can get anything you want. Why, +it's money in your pocket, that's what that hump is; it's money in your +pocket.</p> + +<p>[<i>He closes the conversation by whistling.</i></p> + +<p>Say, go on over to that house and get us something to eat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan prepares for the quest and Hank rolls over to go to sleep.</i></p> + +<p><i>As Jonathan crosses, lights disclose a hill with pleasant green slopes. At +its foot stands a little cottage, all cool and pleasant with great glass +doors. There are no locks and bolts to keep one out or to keep one in. A +high plaster and brick wall flanks the cottage.</i></p> + +<p><i>As Jonathan nears the cottage he meets Uncle John, whose austerity is more +apparent than ever.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan cowers a moment, then attempts to smile.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Hank said you'd turn me away if I came back.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Were you talking to me, boy?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm so sorry I ran away, Uncle John.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Uncle John?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't you know me, Sir?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Indeed I do not.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm Jonathan—</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Jonathan! My nephew Jonathan?—Ha! Ha!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't you remember I didn't want to study engineering—I didn't want to go +to Somerset School?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Where is Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm Jonathan, sir. You remember I jumped out of the window and I tried to +run away.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You seem to know a lot about it. Where is Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I tell you I am Jonathan.... Don't you remember you struck me—You struck +me across the face—that's what made me run away.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I should have whipped him and put him to bed.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I would have run away just the same, Uncle John.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Don't call me Uncle John!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>But you are my Uncle John.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I ask you where <i>is</i> Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Would you like to see him?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I should like to know what has become of him.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Would you let him come back home?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>No. When he ran away, I cast him out forever.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Couldn't you forgive him if he was very, very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> sorry for what he had +done?... Couldn't you forgive me, sir?... I am Jonathan. Honest I am +Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Don't try to deceive me. Jonathan was impudent as you are; but he was a +Clay: he was straight and fine.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>But I broke my back.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Tell me where Jonathan is, you imposter.</p> + +<p>[<i>He takes Jonathan by the arm and twists it brutally.</i></p> + +<p>Tell me.... Tell me.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I don't know.... Let me go.... I'm <i>not</i> Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Tell me....</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>in desperation</i>)</p> + +<p>He's dead.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>What!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He's dead. He died somewhere.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>And so you tried to palm yourself off as Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm sorry.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Don't you know you can't make your way with lies?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You ought to be whipped, but I suppose you don't know any better. I should +have you arrested for vagrancy.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan winces.</i></p> + +<p>But I won't. I pity you, you dirty little beggar.</p> + +<p>[<i>He starts to walk.</i></p> + +<p>You ought to wash your hands and face at least.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Please, sir—one minute.... How are Mary and John third?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Mary is ten—a big girl—and John third is eight—a strapping boy who will +be a great help to me.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>And—how is Aunt Letitia?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>My aunt died of a broken heart.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>A broken heart?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Because Jonathan ran away.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan buries his face in his arms.</i></p> + +<p>There! Don't cry for someone you've never seen.... Here, here, take this—</p> + +<p>[<i>He presses a coin into Jonathan's hand and goes out.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan looks at the coin, then after John, and seems to close his heart. +He crosses to the sleeping Hank.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Here, Hank.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK (<i>taking the coin</i>)</p> + +<p>What'd he say?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He didn't know me.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>I guess you're not going back home now!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, I haven't any home.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Then quit your snifflin' an' go on over to that house.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>All right, Hank.</p> + +<p>[<i>Hank curls up and goes to sleep again.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan crosses to the cottage and finally summons the courage to knock +on the door. As he does so the lights within grow bright and disclose a +lovely little room with a beautiful piano in the centre. In a moment a +young woman appears and opens the doors. It is Susan Sample. She is +charmingly older; but she is dressed almost as she was in the old lumber +room.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Please, Miss—why—</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>What do you want?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I—don't you know me?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>No, I don't know you, little boy. What do you want?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I—don't you really know me?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>I've never seen you before.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I know you.... You're Susan Sample.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Who told you?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm— (<i>He becomes conscious of his back</i>) Why Jonathan told me.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Have you seen Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Where is he?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I don't know.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>He ran away. Why doesn't he come home?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Because—oh, I don't know.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Who are you?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm a vagrant.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Are you hungry?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>looking toward Hank</i>)</p> + +<p>No. I'm not.... I'm not begging.... But will you do something for me?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Yes, if I can.</p> + +<p><a name="p149i" id="p149i"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/ill-191.jpg" width="650" height="517" alt="Jonathan Makes a Wish + +Act II." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Jonathan Makes a Wish<br /> + +Act II.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Will you play for me?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Oh, yes.... What shall I play?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Anything.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan notices his dirty hands.</i></p> + +<p>Excuse me a moment.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes to a bird-bath and washes his hands, wipes them and returns to +the piano.</i></p> + +<p><i>Susan plays a bit of a nocturne with ease and grace.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Do you remember this?</p> + +<p>[<i>He hums "All on a Summer Day."</i></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Oh, yes.</p> + +<p>[<i>She plays the tune in a sophisticated musical way, but Jonathan is +disappointed.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>You don't like it?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>That isn't exactly the way it goes.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, it is.</p> + +<p>[<i>She plays it once more and sings it.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No—no—no. It ought to go this way.</p> + +<p>[<i>He sings it as he had sung it years before.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>You sing that just as Jonathan used to sing it.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I like it that way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Did Jonathan teach it to you?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes.... A long time ago.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Did he tell you—</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>About the lovely lady who danced to the tune? Oh, she was wonderful!</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Jonathan ran away—and he never wrote to me or thought of me.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He thought of you and he talked of you and he sang of you.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>No.... I can't believe that.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Jonathan loves you very much.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>If a man loves a woman very much he can't go away from her for years and +years.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Suppose Jonathan had pride and was ashamed to let you know that he had +failed.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Jonathan wouldn't fail. I know Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He—Susan Sample!</p> + +<p>[<i>Susan plays softly. She is lovely in the sunlight which is lengthening +across the lawn.</i></p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan watches her quietly. The love of the boy fans into flame and he +reaches out to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> her, then in the consciousness of his deformity he turns +away.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Will you tell me where Jonathan was when you last saw him?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I don't know—The last time I saw Jonathan—he was tall and straight—and +making his way.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Oh, well.</p> + +<p>[<i>Albert Peet enters. He is a little man of immaculate appearance and great +preciseness.</i></p> + +<p class="center">ALBERT</p> + +<p>Ah, Susan.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Albert, you are late.</p> + +<p class="center">ALBERT</p> + +<p>Who is this?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>This is a friend of Jonathan's.</p> + +<p class="center">ALBERT</p> + +<p>Jonathan who?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Don't you remember Jonathan who had the toy theatre? He ran away from home.</p> + +<p class="center">ALBERT</p> + +<p>Oh... and this is his friend? How do you do?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Do you remember this? I used to play it for you.</p> + +<p>[<i>She begins "All on a Summer's Day."</i></p> + +<p>Jonathan and I made it up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">ALBERT (<i>laughing</i>)</p> + +<p>Oh, yes.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN (<i>to Jonathan</i>)</p> + +<p>Come on and sing it.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan is not sure of the status of Albert Peet.</i></p> + +<p>[<i>Susan plays and she and Jonathan sing with great feeling.</i></p> + +<p class="center">ALBERT (<i>looking at his watch)</i></p> + +<p>Well, all this is very pleasant indeed, but we'll have to go, Susan dear.</p> + +<p>[<i>At the "Susan, dear" Jonathan turns quickly and sees the two holding +hands. Susan holds up her left hand and shows an engagement ring on it. +Jonathan is utterly crushed.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I think I'd better say good-bye.</p> + +<p>[<i>He takes up his cap.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Good-bye. If you see Jonathan, tell him I'm going to marry Albert Peet. +He'll know.</p> + +<p class="center">ALBERT</p> + +<p>Good-bye.</p> + +<p>[<i>Albert and Susan walk off happily in the sunshine.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan looks after them.</i></p> + +<p><i>Mlle. Perrault enters followed by Mary and John 3rd. Mlle. Perrault's +dress is almost like the one she had worn when she first met Jonathan in +the lumber-room, except that the colors are reversed and more brilliant. +Mary is a lovely little yellow-haired child of ten and John 3rd is a +stoical matter-of-fact boy of eight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> The two children are evidently very +fond of Mlle. Perrault, as fond as Jonathan and Susan had seemed. If the +children seem thoughtless and cruel, it is because they are children and +life has not yet laid a hard hand upon them. The sun rays are very low +against the wall now so that anyone walking near it will cast a very heavy +shadow.</i></p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>John, look—he's a hunchback.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>'Sh! Children.</p> + +<p>[<i>The children whisper.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan turns and seeing Mlle. Perrault smiles.</i></p> + +<p>How do you do, little man.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I am well, I thank you.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>What are you doing here?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I am with Hank.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Hank?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, Hank's my pal. There he is—asleep.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Oh, what a dreadful person.... Children, don't go near him.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He's not so bad.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>But he is a vagrant—a tramp. Why does he do nothing?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He's happier that way.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Are you his son?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, no.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Where is your mother?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>My mother's dead.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Where did she live?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>Looks for a trace of recognition</i>)</p> + +<p>I'd better not tell you.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Oh, please tell us.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'd better not.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>You ask him, John.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>Uh-uh!</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Why not?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>I don't want to know.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Why don't you want to tell <i>us</i>? We won't tell anybody.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Nobody'll believe me.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Why?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You see, I ran away from home—</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>When you run away from home, you're no good.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Now, John, that isn't always so.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>It is.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>It isn't. Goldilocks and the Babes in the Wood and the Marquis of Carabas +were all good, and they ran away from home.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>But they had bad homes.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Was your home bad?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I thought it was.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>You thought it was. But was it?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>Then you're no good.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Oh, John.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>No, he isn't. Grandfather said nobody who ran away from home was any good!</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Why did you run away from home?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I mustn't tell.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Oh, you won't tell anything!</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III (<i>pointing to Hank</i>)</p> + +<p>What did you say <i>he</i> was, Ma'mselle?</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>He is a vagrant—</p> + +<p class="center">MARY AND JOHN III</p> + +<p>What's a vagrant?</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Ooh—</p> + +<p>[<i>Puts up her hand to make a wish.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>Aw, I'm not going to make a wish. Grandfather'll get it for me anyway if I +want it.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Now, John Clay III—</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan looks up quickly.</i></p> + +<p>You always spoil things.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Is that Mary Clay and John Clay?</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>They don't remember Jonathan, do they?</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>You mean Jonathan who ran away?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Who's Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>He's David's friend. I know that. And he was very good.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>What do you know about Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I knew him once—</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>He was a splendid little man! He could make such lovely songs.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Do you remember the one he and Susan Sample made up?</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Let's see—how did it go?</p> + +<p>[<i>Hums a little—tries several folk tunes. The children edge up to Jonathan +during this and manage to touch his back several times, each keeping count. +Jonathan smiles at them, thinking it's attention.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, it went this way.</p> + +<p>[<i>He sings a little of the song and Mlle. Perrault joins him. As he stops +singing she switches the time to waltz time and begins to sway to it. The +music is taken up as by a dream-orchestra and Mlle. Perrault dances a very +lovely little waltz.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>Oh, look at your shadow!</p> + +<p>[<i>Mlle. Perrault turns and sees her shadow on the wall.</i></p> + +<p>I can make a bigger one than that.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Oh, come on, ma'mselle, let's all make shadows.</p> + +<p>[<i>The three of them stand in front of the wall.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>Boy, you come, too.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Come, boy.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan joins them standing so that his deformity doesn't show in the +shadow.</i></p> + +<p>Now, let's dance—Give me your hand—so.</p> + +<p>[<i>The four dance, while Mlle. Perrault hums "All on a Summer's Day." They +are having a very good time when Susan and Albert enter.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan is a little conscious of Susan and Albert, and he manages to make +several awkward moves.</i></p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Now, let's make everybody's shadow dance by itself.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Oh, come on.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>You first, Mlle.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>It's your turn, Mlle.</p> + +<p>[<i>Mlle. Perrault stands before the wall and makes a very lovely shadow.</i></p> + +<p>John, you do it now.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>I won't. I'm going to be next to last.... He's going to be last.</p> + +<p>[<i>Mary makes a pretty "statue."</i></p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Now, John—</p> + +<p>[<i>John III, holding a staff, stands bow-legged and pigeon-toed.</i></p> + +<p><i>All of them laugh.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT (<i>to John III</i>)</p> + +<p>You little Jackanapes! You!</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III (<i>to Jonathan</i>)</p> + +<p>You can't do that.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan, still conscious of Susan, but more in the spirit of the game +nevertheless, laughs almost gleefully.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You just wait.</p> + +<p>[<i>He stands in front of the wall and does some comical movements with his +feet and legs, then he turns in such a way that for the first time the +shadow of his hump is thrown into a pitiful distortion on the wall. He +doesn't see it at first, for he is lost in the game with the children.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III (<i>yelling suddenly</i>)</p> + +<p>Oh, look!</p> + +<p>[<i>The children laugh immoderately, and Jonathan turns his head quickly, but +in so doing alters the shadow. He smiles joyfully and then once more falls +into the distorted picture.</i></p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Ooh—</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>That's funnier than mine.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan turns his head this time and sees the full horror of the thing.</i></p> + +<p><i>Mlle. Perrault and Susan have realized too late to protect Jonathan.</i></p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>John! Mary! Tell the little boy good-bye. We must go.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan looks toward Susan and Albert.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> There is pity in Susan's eyes +and a smile in Albert's.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Albert, come—let's go!</p> + +<p>[<i>They pass into the house.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III [<i>Almost as Susan speaks.</i></p> + +<p>Wasn't he funniest of all!</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Now, run along, children. Run along.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Look, I can make a hump-back.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>So can I.</p> + +<p class="center">MARY</p> + +<p>Not a good one!</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN III</p> + +<p>You can't touch mine.</p> + +<p>[<i>He smacks Mary on the back and runs off, Mary following him.</i></p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Little man, I'm very sorry. You mustn't let them hurt you. They are only +children.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, ma'am.... Thank you.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>May I do something for you?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, ma'am... if you please... I must go to Hank.</p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>Here, take this—</p> + +<p>[<i>She offers a coin.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, no, ma'am....<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>He puts his hand behind him.</i></p> + +<p class="center">MLLE. PERRAULT</p> + +<p>I am sorry.... Very, very sorry.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p>[<i>Mlle. Perrault goes out silently, and in a moment she is heard to call</i> +"Marie"—"John," <i>and a distant answer is heard</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Susan comes to the door and sees Jonathan. She crosses to him. He looks at +her almost with madness in his eyes.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>They didn't mean to hurt you.</p> + +<p>[<i>She lays her hand on his arm.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, I know.</p> + +<p>[<i>There is a moment of the tenderest, most understanding silence. He turns +away.</i></p> + +<p><i>Susan starts to reach in her bag, she even takes her purse out; but she +replaces it unopened, and instead of bestowing alms, she takes a flower +from her hair and presses it in Jonathan's hands.</i></p> + +<p><i>He looks at her with years of pent-up gratitude loosed from his heart.</i></p> + +<p><i>Silently, she turns away and goes into the house. Jonathan, left alone, +turns so that his hump once more shows in the most distorted shadow. He +lifts the flower and for a single moment, its shadow rises above the shadow +of the hump, a tiny cross on his little Calvary. Then he lays the flower +against his cheek and sits upon the log near Hank.</i></p> + +<p><i>Hank awakens.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">HANK (<i>looking up stupidly</i>)</p> + +<p>What you got?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>hiding the flower</i>)</p> + +<p>Nothing.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Come across, Humpy.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't you call me that!</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>So—ho! What you yelling at me for?</p> + +<p>[<i>He sits up.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Nothing.... I didn't mean to yell.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>What you got there?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I tell you I haven't got anything, Hank.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Come on. Come across.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>It's not for you.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Come on.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>Rises and moves away</i>)</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK.</p> + +<p>Gimme it here....</p> + +<p>[<i>He grabs Jonathan and tears the flower from his hand.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Stop that!</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Great God! (<i>Throwing the crushed petals on the ground</i>) Say, what's the +matter with you?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I tell you, I'm going back.... I'm going back to my home.... I'm going to +find my Uncle Nathaniel. I know he'll take me in. He won't blame me because +I'm a cripple.... I know.... I know.... Didn't he say, "Poor Jonathan"?...</p> + +<p>[<i>At this moment Nathaniel enters, and the two stand face to face as they +had stood in the lumber-room at their first meeting.</i></p> + +<p><i>Hank slinks away.</i></p> + +<p><i>Nathaniel is untouched by the years. Jonathan looks at him hopefully, but +there is no glint of recognition In Nathaniel's eye.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>timidly</i>)</p> + +<p>Uncle Nathaniel.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What did you say, my boy?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>Less and less audible, as his disappointment increases</i>)</p> + +<p>Uncle Nathaniel.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I can't hear you.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You—are—my—Uncle Nathaniel.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Come, come, my boy. I can't hear you.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Aren't you—Mr.—Nathaniel—Clay?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>kindly, but as to a stranger</i>)</p> + +<p>Yes, I am Mr. Nathaniel Clay.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan smiles one of his old half smiles.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>My name's—Jonathan.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Jonathan!... I had a nephew whose name was Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't you know me?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You must forgive me, little man—but I do not remember you. Boys grow so +quickly.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't you remember <i>Zenobia</i>?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p><i>Zenobia?</i> Who was she?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't you remember the little theatre?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, my nephew Jonathan had a little toy theatre, and he wrote a play +called <i>Zenobia</i>.... He burnt them.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Was it wrong to burn them?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I don't know. You see Jonathan ran away, and I have never seen him since.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Do you blame him?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well, I can't say. When a fine boy like Jonathan runs away from home, he +may have what he considers a good reason.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't you know why he ran away?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I think I know.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Would you tell me why?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>That wouldn't do any good, my boy.... If you had an uncle who liked you +very much, would you run away?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, sir—not if I had another chance....</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What do you mean?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't you really know me?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I'm sorry—no!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>pointing to Hank</i>)</p> + +<p>Do you know him?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>That tramp?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.... That's Hank.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Hank?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, the one I ran away with.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Did you run away, too?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir; I jumped out the window, and I fell and broke my back. Hank +said—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What a dirty man!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He's my pal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You're evidently a fine young man inside.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, I'm sorry, sir, that I ran away.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You can't undo the past, my boy, but you can make the future.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I can't straighten my back.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Perhaps not, but you can straighten your life.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm only a beggar, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>There is something everybody can do.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>There isn't any place for me....</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>My boy, there is a place for everybody who wants a place.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Do you remember what your nephew wanted to do?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes, he wanted to write plays and run a theatre and be an actor.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I couldn't ever be an actor, could I?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No, my boy.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Supposing you had your heart set on something and couldn't do it, what +would you do?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I'd not give up.... I'd try something else.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Supposing I were your nephew, what would you do?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I'd find out what you wanted to be.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't I look like Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Jonathan must be very tall now.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>If Jonathan weren't tall?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>But he <i>is</i> tall and splendid. I know Jonathan! And he's doing what he set +out to do.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I hope you'll find him, sir, and I hope he'll make you proud.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>very earnestly</i>)</p> + +<p>My boy, how old are you?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm twenty.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Twenty.... Will you try to pull yourself out of the rut?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>What do you mean, sir?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Look at that man. What is he to you?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He's my pal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You mustn't waste your life on such emptiness as his.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm going to try, sir.... And if I make good, will you believe I'm +Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I'll believe you are you.... Here....</p> + +<p>[<i>He offers Jonathan a coin.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, no, sir.... I can't—from you—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well, you are a strange beggar—</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm not a beggar at heart.... I don't want to be what I am. But I don't +know which way to turn. I'm all mixed up.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>All mixed up?</p> + +<p>[<i>Nathaniel turns and looks toward the hill.</i></p> + +<p>Boy, there is a green hill far away. Climb to the top of it, look about and +you will see—</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I know: the whole wide world!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Exactly.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Go to the hilltop alone—and cry out to your heart's content.—There's +nothing like a hilltop to make a man feel worth while!</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I knew that, sir; but I forgot it. I'm going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Good-bye, boy; God bless you.</p> + +<p>[<i>The two clasp hands and Nathaniel goes.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He believes in me....</p> + +<p>[<i>He watches Nathaniel with wide eyes, then calls to Hank.</i></p> + +<p>Hank! Hank!</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>What you want?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p><i>He</i> didn't know me!</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Who didn't know you?</p> + +<p>[<i>Hank lies down.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Uncle Nathaniel.... He just passed by.... But, Hank, he believed in me! He +believed I'd make good.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Say, what's the matter with you today?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm goin' to leave you, Hank.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Huh?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Old pal, I'm going to leave you forever. You've stuck by me—</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Sure, I've stuck by you.</p> + +<p>[<i>Makes himself comfortable.</i></p> + +<p>Ain't you saved me a heap o' trouble?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>But I'm going now, Hank. Good-bye. I'm going to the green hill far away.</p> + +<p>[<i>He starts away leaving Hank alone and asleep. The lights fade out.</i></p> + +<p><i>Soft music is heard through the darkness and slowly the outline of the +green hill appears close at hand. Jonathan outlined against the sky appears +at the edge of the hill, climbing with difficulty.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>The voice is heard with the music</i>)</p> + +<p>Nine ninety-nine—one thousand. You're nearly there, Boy.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Nine hundred and ninety-nine—one thousand—I'm almost there.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>far away</i>)</p> + +<p>A thousand and one—a thousand and two—</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>A thousand and one, a thousand and two—I am here!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>far away</i>)</p> + +<p>The world is here.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>as though addressing the world</i>)</p> + +<p>Listen.... I ran away. I ran away. I was fourteen. I saw visions of great +things. I heard voices of the past and the future. I wanted to tell what I +saw and heard.... Oh, you who made sport of my dreams, I am here at the top +of the world! Uncle John, I have heard things you will never hear, and I +have seen things you will never see.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN (<i>far away</i>)</p> + +<p>But your back's broken.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, Susan—Susan Sample—see—see. I told you I wasn't a beggar. +See—see—Jonathan stands at the top of the world!</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN (<i>faintly</i>)</p> + +<p>But your back's broken.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, people of all the world, I am a boy who asks you to hear me and to +understand. I only wanted to work out <i>my</i> way.... I planned my way because +I couldn't help it—I wanted to build my own world—alone.... I climbed +clear to the top—Jonathan stands before you—</p> + +<p class="center">VOICES</p> + +<p>Jonathan's dead.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Dead?... Oh, see the wreck of everything.... Jonathan <i>is</i> dead!</p> + +<p>[<i>He falls.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Boy—boy—Jonathan!—I believe you are you.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Uncle Nathaniel!</p> + +<p>[<i>He rises slowly.</i></p> + +<p>Oh, people of all the world, my Uncle Nathaniel understands.—I speak for +all the boys of all times. Have patience—patience and understanding. Don't +you remember when you were young? We come to you with hopes and dreams and +wishes and fears,—and these are the things that life is made of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I am here, Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm coming to you. I'm coming back to you with all my hopes and dreams.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>We're waiting for you, Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I've made my wish that's coming true!!</p> + +<p>[<i>He jumps into space.</i></p> + + +<h4><i>Curtain.</i></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> +<h2>ACT III</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Jonathan Makes a Wish</span></h4> + + +<p>[<i>The scene is a summer house on the estate of John Clay. It is charmingly +furnished with wicker chairs and a table. The building is hexagon shape and +we look into half the hexagon. The doors at the left open on to the path +that leads from the house. The doors at the back open onto a garden path +that leads to a gate. Eight weeks have elapsed since the first act.</i></p> + +<p><i>The curtain rises disclosing an empty stage. It is early evening and +sunset is leaving only the faintest tinge above the hills. After a moment +Jonathan enters. He is unchanged except that he still carries in his eyes +some of the horror of his delirium. He opens the back windows and then sits +above the table and begins to look at an illustrated paper.</i></p> + +<p><i>Nathaniel enters carrying a manuscript. He seems a bit less carefree than +at his homecoming, and he also seems closer to Jonathan.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well, my boy—</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Uncle Nathaniel, did you know that Caproni was an artist?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You mean the Caproni who makes the wonderful aeroplanes?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No, I didn't know it; but I'm not surprised.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Aren't these pictures fine?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Excellent.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>He made them.... They're like great dragon-flies, aren't they?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>A whole swarm of them.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>It must feel funny to fly through air.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Would you like to try it some time?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes... but I'd have to get used to it.... It must be like diving.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>When you were very ill you seemed to imagine you were falling.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Did I talk much when I was unconscious?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You talked almost continuously.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Did I?... You said you'd tell me what I said—when I was strong enough.... +I'm pretty strong now.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Do you know what I did?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I don't know.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>showing manuscript</i>)</p> + +<p>Can you guess?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>Looks at manuscript</i>)</p> + +<p>"Jonathan Builds a Fear." What does that mean?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>When you were delirious I listened to what you said and then I made a story +out of it.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You mean this is all about me?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>It's about a little hunchback who thought he was you.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I know. I was always trying to make somebody know me, and finally I thought +I jumped from the top of a hill and I seemed to be falling for years and +years....</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Those were terrible days, my boy, and do you know, we were afraid you +wouldn't live.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>It was a terrible feeling.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I know, but all that's over now; and there's the whole story about the +little hunchback you never were.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>[<i>Hank's whistle is heard. Jonathan rises very quickly and looks at +Nathaniel.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>He comes every now and then to ask about you and to get something to eat.</p> + +<p>[<i>Hank whistles again.</i></p> + +<p class="center">HANK'S VOICE (<i>at back</i>)</p> + +<p>Hi!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Come in, Hank.—</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Is the old man here?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK (<i>Enters through the gateway whistling</i>)</p> + +<p>Hello, boy.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm well now. How are you?</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>I'm beginning to get cold, so I think I'll go south tomorrow and I thought +I'd drop in to say good-bye.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I'll give you an overcoat, Hank.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>No, thanks. It's too hot to carry it. I'll get one when I really need it, +maybe.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well, here's something for you.</p> + +<p>[<i>He offers him a five dollar bill.</i></p> + +<p>Five dollars! No, thanks. If I had that much money I'd lose it maybe. Give +me two bits and call it square.</p> + +<p>[<i>Nathaniel hands him a quarter.</i></p> + +<p>Thanks.... Well... good-bye.... I'm glad your back wasn't broke.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Hank.</p> + +<p class="center">HANK</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Mister.... I'll see you next year maybe, when it's warm.—Say, +kid, I'd like to see that <i>Zenobia</i> show again:—"Hail, noble duke," "All's +well, Irene." "Not very well, noble duke."</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out, chuckling to himself.</i></p> + +<p><i>Aunt Letitia enters. As usual she has something to keep her hands busy. +She seats herself comfortably in a chair that custom has evidently made her +very own. In her work she shows the effect of time upon her eyes and she +may feel a tiny draught that causes her to close the doors behind her and +draw her scarf a bit more closely about her. Never has Aunt Letitia seemed +more successfully the poor relation.</i></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>I thought you were out with John.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan is looking at the manuscript.</i></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA (<i>to Jonathan</i>)</p> + +<p>How do you feel, dear?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Fine;... I think I'll go in the house and read this.</p> + +<p>(<i>To Nathaniel</i>)</p> + +<p>I'm glad it isn't true.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>It's the story of his delirium. I thought it would interest him—and +relieve him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Has John gone?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Only for a stroll—the doctor's orders.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Well?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Sit down.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>In John's chair?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>If you wish.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>John's chair! The throne of the head of the family! (<i>He sits in John's +chair</i>) Well?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Nathaniel dear, you are making John very unhappy.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>And John has made me very unhappy, dearest Aunt Letty.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>The feeling at the dinner table was almost unbearable tonight. There we sat +strained and silent.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I am sorry. I try to avoid meals with John as much as possible.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>You've been here eight weeks and John and I know nothing of you. For me it +is enough that you are here; but John is the head of the family<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> and he +feels that you ought to treat him with greater deference.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>It is revolting to me to have a tsar in the family.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Your father and your father's father and grandfather were rulers of the +Clay family.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I don't question that.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>You can't change John.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I don't want to change John.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Then why not tell him something about yourself?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>It is none of John's affairs how or why I live. It is none of his affair +how or why or when I shall marry Mlle. Perrault.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Perhaps not.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>When I tell him anything, Aunt Letty, it will be one thing—I have stayed +here because I love Jonathan, because he needs me. And I have listened to +the boy's fears and to his hopes as they came out of his poor tortured +little soul in his delirium. I have watched him during his convalescence, +and I see in him a growing man in prison. John sees in him only the +potential head of the family; but he is my flesh and blood as much as he is +John's and I intend to set him free.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>My beloved Nathaniel, John will not give Jonathan up to you.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I don't want Jonathan unless he wants to come to me, but I do want +Jonathan's freedom.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Isn't he a bit young to have <i>freedom</i>.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Aunt Letitia, I don't mean a silly license.—I mean freedom. If you are +cultivating a peach-tree you don't expect oranges on it even if it could +wish to be an orange tree, but you can help to make it bear better peaches. +Jonathan isn't a mechanical business person. His bent is in another +direction.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>What are you going to do?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Frankly, I do not know.</p> + +<p>[<i>Up to window.</i></p> + +<p>All I know now is that I shall stay here until I find a plan.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan enters.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Where is Uncle John?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>He has gone for a stroll.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>What do you want, my dear?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Uncle John sent word that he wanted to see me here at 7:30.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>Letitia and Nathaniel look at each other.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jonathan takes out a large silver watch.</i></p> + +<p>It's 7:29 now.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>John will be on time—count sixty slowly—</p> + +<p>[<i>John enters. He is rather pale, seems pre-occupied and even more +unapproachable than ever.</i></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Did you have a pleasant stroll?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I wasn't walking.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>I shall go into the house, I think.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>No, Aunt Letitia, I would rather you'd wait, if you please.</p> + +<p>[<i>Nathaniel is an interested spectator. He cannot understand why Jonathan +should be present for what will probably be an eventful family scene.</i></p> + +<p>Nathaniel, will you sit down?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Certainly.—Where?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN (<i>tartly</i>)</p> + +<p>Would you like my chair?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Thank you.</p> + +<p>[<i>He sits in John's chair, much to John's annoyance.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Jonathan, sit down.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan sits. John also sits. Aunt Letitia knows what to expect. +Nathaniel is more curious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> than angry. Jonathan is attending his first +family conference.</i></p> + +<p>Jonathan, I've sent for you because I want to talk to you seriously.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Do you think the boy is strong enough?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>The doctor told me today that he would be quite equal to it.... Eight weeks +ago, Jonathan, you made an effort to run away from your home, because I +punished you. In your foolish defiance of all family authority you suffered +a fall that might have resulted in a lasting and serious injury. +Fortunately you have recovered fully from the result of your fall.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Excuse me, John, but all of us know this.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>One moment, please, Nathaniel.... I have now arranged that you begin your +preparation for your life work immediately. You will leave for Somerset +School the day after tomorrow.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>desperately</i>)</p> + +<p>Uncle John, I don't want to go to Somerset School.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You will leave for Somerset day after tomorrow. Good night, Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Why Somerset?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Good night, Jonathan.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan, dazed, goes out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Jonathan will never go to Somerset School.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Nathaniel, you forfeited your rights in the family councils when you ran +away from home seventeen years ago.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>This boy will run away again and again and I mean to save him from what I +have suffered, if I can.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Nathaniel, by what right do you attempt to interfere with my decisions?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>By the right of blood and understanding.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Blood and understanding? Where were you when Emily had to leave her husband +and brought her boy into my home? Where were you when Emily died? I took +Emily in and I took her boy in. As head of the family it was my duty to do +so and as head of the family it is my duty to see that the boy is brought +up in the best traditions of the family.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>John, you can't force this boy into a mold.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>A boy of fourteen doesn't know his mind.... Do <i>you</i> know what Jonathan +wants to be?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes, a writer of plays, a theatre director, and an actor.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Imagine!... And I suppose you encouraged him.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No, but I didn't discourage him. The selection was wide enough for him to +find some lasting life work.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>He never told me he wanted to be an actor.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Oh, my brother, every growing boy has a deep secret wish that he cannot +bring himself to disclose! As you know, I always wanted to be a writer, but +most of all I wanted to be a left-handed base ball pitcher. And although +I'm irretrievably right handed I used to practice—religiously—pitching +with my left hand.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>That was juvenile foolishness.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes, but it was genuine.</p> + +<p>[<i>John starts to speak.</i></p> + +<p>What am I now? I am going to tell you, John—by and by. First, we must +dispose of the boy.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I shall decide about the boy.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No, John; the boy must decide for himself.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>He'd decide to be an actor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>If he did, what of it?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>I want members of my family to do useful work.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What <i>is</i> useful work? An actor serves his purpose just as a plumber or +lawyer serves his.... The only difference is that all of us are not +plumbers or lawyers while all of us <i>are</i> actors. Yes, John, we're all +playing something—you are playing at head of the family, I'm—</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Still I do not regard acting as a worth-while or lucrative profession.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You never know, John.... Five generations ago the Clays were respectable +carpenters. They weren't wealthy and they gave no promise of becoming +wealthy. Then suddenly our revered ancestor became a successful maker of +cypress drain pipes—sewer pipes, I think we used to call them! The family +fortunes were founded!! Our ancestor bought a high hat and the esteem of +his neighbors. Cypress was in time replaced by pottery. Conduits for wires +and terra cotta building materials were added to our achievements and then +in your régime superfine sewers became a specialty.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Every kind of concrete work!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I beg your pardon! Concrete sewers and other concrete things.—Such is the +foundation of the family.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You are evidently ashamed of our business.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Not at all, but I cannot consider the manufacturing of sewers a greater +achievement than acting.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Nathaniel, are you an actor?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>What are you?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>For the present I am Jonathan's uncle.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You have nothing to do with Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>The boy is not going to Somerset School.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Nathaniel, I shall not tolerate your interference. Now I must ask you to +leave this house.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What?</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>John... Nathaniel... my boys, it isn't my way to interfere; but please for +my sake, for your mother's sake—think what you're doing.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN (<i>With some tenderness he lays his hand on Letitia's</i>)</p> + +<p>I have thought, Aunt Letitia. I can not allow this boy's life to be ruined +as Emily's and Henry's and Nathaniel's were.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Ruined? John, I'll tell you how ruined my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> life has been and I'll tell you +in terms you'll understand. My income last year was over $350,000!</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Are you acting now?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes, I'm acting—I'm acting in terms that you will understand.... You know +that I'm your brother Nathaniel. Do you know who else I am? I am a writer +and a playwright and a director in the United Baking Company and a +stockholder in the National Munitions Company—munitions, John; think of +it, millions, millions in them—and I'm willing and eager to take Emily's +boy and educate him in the way he wants to live his life.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>What are these heroics?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I mean what I say. If need be I shall use brute force, financial force or +any kind of force to free Jonathan from the misery that I endured in this +house.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You had everything you wanted.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Everything except freedom to think my own thoughts. John, some people are +like reinforced concrete. Someone builds the iron frame and the wooden +molds, then pours the cement and when it has hardened, the molds are +removed and lo, you have a monolith—a solid unchangeable stone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>You talk very well, Nathaniel, but I shall insist upon bringing up my +sister's child in my way.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Would you have him run away as I did?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>He will never run away again. He has had his lesson.</p> + +<p>[<i>Jonathan enters carrying a suit case.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>May I speak to you, Uncle John?</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>What are you doing with that suit case?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm going away.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Who gave you permission?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Nobody.... I've been thinking since a little while ago and at first I +thought I'd run away again; but that wouldn't be quite fair—so I came to +tell you.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Take that suit case back into the house.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, sir! I'm going and nobody can keep me here unless they tie me.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Well, I'll tell you one thing—if you leave this house without my +permission I'll cut you off without a penny and you'll never be allowed to +come back again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir. I know that; but I'm going and I came to tell you good-bye.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Very well. You've made your choice—and I never want to see you again as +long as you live. Good-bye, Jonathan. Good-bye, Nathaniel.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>John, don't say things you'll regret. Jonathan doesn't mean what he's +saying.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes'm, I do mean what I say.</p> + +<p class="center">JOHN</p> + +<p>Good night.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>Boys, you are so hot-headed—so much alike....</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You dear, you have always been content to compromise while we two must go +our own ways or not at all. You go to John. Help him as you can. He's not a +bad man—he's just a structure of reinforced concrete. You love John and he +in his way loves you. Go to John and comfort his outraged authority.</p> + +<p class="center">LETITIA</p> + +<p>I'm sorry things have turned out this way. (<i>She kisses them</i>) Good night, +my dears. Wait until morning if you can, my darling Nathaniel.</p> + +<p>[<i>She goes out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Now you've done it!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I couldn't help it.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>What are you going to do?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I don't know.... They say there's plenty of work on farms.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You can't write if you work on a farm.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I can earn some more money and save. Other boys have worked their way +through school and college. I can do that.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Of course—that is a way out of it. Yes... of course....</p> + +<p>[<i>Nathaniel opens the back doors and sees the thinnest crescent moon +hanging in the sky.</i></p> + +<p>The new moon.... They say if you make a wish on the new moon it will come +true.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You have to see it over your right shoulder.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You saw it over your right shoulder.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I don't believe that, do you?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Well, suppose it were true, what would you wish?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You mean for right away?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN [<i>carefully looking over his right shoulder.</i></p> + +<p>I'd wish to be with you.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>More than anything?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>More than being a writer or a theatre director or an actor?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, I'm too young to start right away. I have to have an education +first.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Suppose that wish couldn't be, then what would you wish?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>That you'd write me long letters and let me write you long letters.</p> + +<p>[<i>Takes up his suit case.</i></p> + +<p>I'd better be going now.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Aren't you going to tell John and Aunt Letitia good-bye?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, sir. I don't think I'd better. Uncle John doesn't care and Aunt Letitia +will understand.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes, she always understands somehow.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Good-bye, sir.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Jonathan, suppose we go away together. I'm not wanted and you're not +wanted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You're going to Paris to marry Mlle. Perrault!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Would you let me be your father, Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Sir?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You shall go to the schools where you will find the work you want.... Will +you be my son?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Do you like me that much?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I like you more than that much. You'll get some long trousers and we'll +plan and plan. Suppose we run away together.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Do you think we ought to leave some word, Uncle Nathaniel?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Of course. How stupid of me.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You write it.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No, we'll both write it.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I don't know what to say. I've only run away once.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>So have I.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Did you ever run away?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes—when I was eighteen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>taking up paper</i>)</p> + +<p>The message ought to be short.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Why did you run away?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I wanted to write.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>You did!</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Didn't you know I ran away?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>No, sir; they never would tell me what became of you.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>They didn't know.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>How could you keep it from them?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I changed my name—Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr! What shall I say?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I can't think.... Did Uncle John lock you in?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>No, I just ran away.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>How long did it take you to make up your mind to go?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I thought about it first when I was twelve. My father was still living +then.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Did you go to Somerset School?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Yes—for three years.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>What did you do after you ran away?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I had a very hard time, my boy—at first. I worked at anything I could get, +then I got into a newspaper office, then I wrote "autobiographies" of +famous men.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I thought you had to write your own autobiography—</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Not nowadays. Then I wrote some successful short stories, then some very +successful long ones—and now I am independent; but it took me ten bitter +years to make my first success.... What shall I write here?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I never could think of things to say when I was going away.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Neither could I.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't you think "good-bye" would be enough?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>writing</i>)</p> + +<p>Capital.... "Good-Bye—Nathaniel." Now you sign it.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN (<i>Signs</i>)</p> + +<p>"Jonathan."... Maybe we ought to put a line under it so Aunt Letitia won't +feel so bad.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>makes a line</i>)</p> + +<p>Dear Aunt Letitia will understand. She is the blessed kind who always does. +Now, where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> shall we put it?... On John's chair, and maybe he'll understand +too.</p> + +<p>[<i>He pins the note to John's chair.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Don't you want to pack your things?</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>I'll wire for them.</p> + +<p>[<i>Susan enters.</i></p> + +<p>On second thought, I'll ask Aunt Letitia to send them.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Hello, Susan.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Jonathan, I just saw Miss Letitia and she was crying.... What's the matter?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm going away, Susan.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Where are you going?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'm going with Uncle Nathaniel. I'm going to be his son. And I'm going to a +fine prep. school and learn to write and do what I like.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>When are you coming back?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I don't know. When I'm older maybe.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Can't we write any more songs?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'll send some words to you in letters.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Will you write every week?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Yes.... Will you?</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Yes. I wish I was going, too.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>So do I.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Maybe I'll come to see you graduate.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>That will be fine!</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN (<i>She kisses him very simply</i>)</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Susan.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>I can hardly wait until you graduate.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Neither can I.... Good-bye.</p> + +<p>[<i>Nathaniel enters.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>On third thought, I decided to wire for my things.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Mr. Nathaniel. I hope you'll have a nice time.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Susan.</p> + +<p>[<i>He kisses her. She goes out.</i></p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Susan.</p> + +<p class="center">SUSAN (<i>calling</i>)</p> + +<p>Send me some picture postcards, Jonathan.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I will.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>[<i>He watches her.</i></p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL (<i>Goes to window</i>)</p> + +<p>Don't you want to make your wish on the new moon, Jonathan?</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I don't know what to wish now. The only one I could think of has come true.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>Good... come, my boy.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>I'll write a long letter to Susan Sample every week.</p> + +<p class="center">NATHANIEL</p> + +<p>You can write her a long letter from New York.</p> + +<p class="center">JONATHAN</p> + +<p>And I can send her picture postcards from every place we go to.</p> + +<p>[<i>Arm in arm they go out talking.</i></p> + + +<h4><i>The Curtain Falls.</i></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> +<h2>APPENDIX</h2> + +<h4>A. M. PALMER—AUTHOR'S MATINEES</h4> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>Madison Square Theater</i> 1887</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Marjorie's Lovers</span></td><td align='left'><i>Brander Matthews</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Elaine</span> (from Tennyson)</td><td align='left'> <i>G. P. Lathrop</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Foregone Conclusion</span></td><td align='left'><i>W. D. Howells</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<h4>THE THEATER OF ARTS AND LETTERS</h4> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>23rd Street Theater</i> 1891</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Giles Corey</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mary E. Wilkins</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Squirrel Inn</span> (from Frank Stockton)</td><td align='left'> <i>Frank Presbrey</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Other Woman</span></td><td align='left'><i>Richard Harding Davis</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Harvest</span></td><td align='left'><i>Clyde Fitch</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Decision of the Court</span></td><td align='left'><i>Brander Matthews Frederick J. Stimson</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<h4>THE CRITERION INDEPENDENT THEATER</h4> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>Madison Square Theater</i> 1897</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>Berkeley Lyceum</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">John Gabriel Bjorkman</span></td><td align='left'><i>Ibsen</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>{<span class="smcap">The Rights of the Soul</span></td><td align='left'><i>Giacosa</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>{<span class="smcap">That Overcoat</span></td><td align='left'><i>Augustus Thomas</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>{<span class="smcap">From a Clear Sky</span></td><td align='left'><i>Henri Dumay</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">El Gran Galeoto</span></td><td align='left'><i>Echegaray</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>THE INDEPENDENT THEATER</h4> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>Carnegie Lyceum</i> 1899</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">El Gran Galeoto</span></td><td align='left'><i>Echegaray</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ties</span></td><td align='left'><i>Hervieu</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Master Builder</span></td><td align='left'><i>Ibsen</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Storm</span></td><td align='left'><i>Ostrovsky</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Heather Field</span></td><td align='left'><i>Martyn</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Troubadour</span></td><td align='left'><i>Coppé</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<h4>THE NEW THEATER</h4> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td colspan="2">1909—1911</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>First Season</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Antony and Cleopatra</span></td><td align='left'><i>Shakespeare</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Cottage in the Air</span></td><td align='left'><i>Knoblauch</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Strife</span></td><td align='left'><i>Galsworthy</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Nigger</span></td><td align='left'><i>Sheldon</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The School for Scandal</span></td><td align='left'><i>Sheridan</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>{<span class="smcap">Liz the Mother</span></td><td align='left'><i>Fenn and Bryce</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>{<span class="smcap">Don</span></td><td align='left'><i>Besier</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Twelfth Night</span></td><td align='left'><i>Shakespeare</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Witch</span> (adapted from Scandinavian by</td><td align='left'> <i>Hagadorn Wiers-Jenssen</i>)</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>{<span class="smcap">Brand</span> (act IV condensed)</td><td align='left'> <i>Ibsen</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>{<span class="smcap">Sister Beatrice</span></td><td align='left'><i>Maeterlinck</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Winter's Tale</span></td><td align='left'><i>Shakespeare</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Beethoven</span></td><td align='left'><i>Fauchois</i></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>Second Season</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Blue Bird</span></td><td align='left'><i>Maeterlinck</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Merry Wives of Windsor</span></td><td align='left'><i>Shakespeare</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Thunderbolt</span></td><td align='left'><i>Pinero</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>{<span class="smcap">Don</span></td><td align='left'><i>Besier</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>{<span class="smcap">Sister Beatrice</span></td><td align='left'><i>Maeterlinck</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mary Magdalene</span></td><td align='left'><i>Maeterlinck</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Old Heidelberg</span></td><td align='left'><i>Meyer-Foerster</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Vanity Fair</span></td><td align='left'><i>R. Hichens and C. Gordan Lennox</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Piper</span></td><td align='left'><i>Marks</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Nobody's Daughter</span></td><td align='left'><i>Paston</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Arrow Maker</span></td><td align='left'><i>Austin</i></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2">In addition there was a borrowed production of</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Song of the People</span></td><td align='left'><i>Michaelis</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<h4>MISS GRACE GEORGE—THE PLAYHOUSE</h4> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>The Playhouse</i> 1915-1917</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>1st Season</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The New York Idea</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mitchell</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Liars</span></td><td align='left'><i>Jones</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Earth</span></td><td align='left'><i>Fagan</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Major Barbara</span></td><td align='left'><i>Shaw</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Captain Brassbound's Conversion</span></td><td align='left'><i>Shaw</i></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>2nd Season</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Eve's Daughter</span></td><td align='left'><i>Ramsey</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Elevation</span></td><td align='left'><i>Bernstein</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<h4>WASHINGTON SQUARE PLAYERS<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> +</h4> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td colspan="2"><i>Bandbox and Comedy Theaters</i> 1915-1917</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Interior</span></td><td align='left'><i>Maeterlinck</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Eugenically Speaking</span></td><td align='left'><i>Goodman</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Licensed</span></td><td align='left'><i>Lawrence</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Another Interior</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Love of One's Neighbor</span></td><td align='left'><i>Andreyev</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Moondown</span></td><td align='left'><i>Reed</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">My Lady's Honor</span></td><td align='left'><i>Pemberton</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Two Blind Beggars and One Less Blind</span></td><td align='left'><i>Moeller</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Shepherd in the Distance</span> (pantomime)</td><td align='left'> <i>Hudson</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Miracle of St. Antony</span></td><td align='left'><i>Maeterlinck</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In April</span></td><td align='left'><i>Stokes</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Forbidden Fruit</span></td><td align='left'><i>Feuillet</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Saviours</span></td><td align='left'><i>Goodman</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Bear</span></td><td align='left'><i>Tchekhov</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Helena's Husband</span></td><td align='left'><i>Moeller</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Fire and Water</span></td><td align='left'><i>White</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Antick</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mackaye</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Night of Snows</span></td><td align='left'><i>Bracco</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Literature</span></td><td align='left'><i>Schnitzler</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Honourable Lover</span></td><td align='left'><i>Bracco</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Whims</span></td><td align='left'><i>Musset</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Overtones</span></td><td align='left'><i>Gerstenberg</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Clod</span></td><td align='left'><i>Beach</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Road-House in Arden</span></td><td align='left'><i>Moeller</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Tenor</span></td><td align='left'><i>Wedekind</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Red Cloak</span> (pantomime)</td><td align='left'> <i>Meyer</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Children</span></td><td align='left'><i>Bolton and Carlton</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Age of Reason</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dorrian</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Magical City</span></td><td align='left'><i>Akins Monsieur Pierre Patelin</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Aglavaine and Selysette</span></td><td align='left'><i>Maeterlinck</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Sea Gull</span></td><td align='left'><i>Tchekhov</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Merry Death</span></td><td align='left'><i>Evréinev</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Lover's Luck</span></td><td align='left'><i>Porto-Riche</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Sugar House</span></td><td align='left'><i>Brown</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sisters of Susanna</span></td><td align='left'><i>Moeller</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Bushido</span></td><td align='left'><i>Izumo</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Trifles</span></td><td align='left'><i>Glaspell</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Another Way Out</span></td><td align='left'><i>Langner</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Altruism</span></td><td align='left'><i>Ettlinger</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Death of Tintagiles</span></td><td align='left'><i>Maeterlinck</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Last Straw</span></td><td align='left'><i>Crocker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Hero of Santa Maria</span></td><td align='left'><i>Goodman and Hecht</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Impudence</span></td><td align='left'><i>Auernheimer</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Plots and Playwrights</span></td><td align='left'><i>Massey</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Life of Man</span></td><td align='left'><i>Andreyev</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sganarelle</span></td><td align='left'><i>Molière</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Poor Fool</span></td><td align='left'><i>Bahr</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ghosts</span></td><td align='left'><i>Ibsen</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Pariah</span></td><td align='left'><i>Strindberg</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<h4>REPERTORY OF THE STUART WALKER COMPANY</h4> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Trimplet</span></td><td align='left'><i>Walker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Fan and Two Candlesticks</span></td><td align='left'><i>Macmillan</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Six Who Pass While the Lentils Boil</span></td><td align='left'><i>Walker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Seven Gifts</span> (a pantomime)</td><td align='left'> <i>Walker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Moon Lady</span> (a pantomime)</td><td align='left'> <i>Walker</i></td><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Nevertheless</span></td><td align='left'><i>Walker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Gammer Gurton's Needle</span> (adapted by Mr. Walker)</td><td align='left'> <i>Stevenson</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree</span></td><td align='left'><i>Walker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Golden Doom</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dunsany</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Voices</span></td><td align='left'><i>Flexner</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Crier by Night</span></td><td align='left'><i>Bottomley</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Gods of the Mountain</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dunsany</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Medicine Show</span></td><td align='left'><i>Walker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Very Naked Boy</span></td><td align='left'><i>Walker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Birthday of the Infanta</span> (from Oscar Wilde's Story)</td><td align='left'><i>Walker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">King Argimenes and the Unknown Warrior</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dunsany</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">It Pays to Advertise</span></td><td align='left'><i>Megrue</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Dummy</span></td><td align='left'><i>O'Higgins and Ford</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Concert</span></td><td align='left'><i>Bahr</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Kick In</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mack</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Seventeen</span></td><td align='left'><i>Walker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Seven Keys to Baldpate</span></td><td align='left'><i>Cohan</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Country Boy</span></td><td align='left'><i>Selwyn</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">You Never Can Tell</span></td><td align='left'><i>Shaw</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Officer 666</span></td><td align='left'><i>McHugh</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Broadway Jones</span></td><td align='left'><i>Cohan</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Woman</span></td><td align='left'><i>DeMille</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Show Shop</span></td><td align='left'><i>Forbes</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Night in Avignon</span></td><td align='left'><i>Rice</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Son of Isis</span></td><td align='left'><i>Kelly</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Stingy</span></td><td align='left'><i>Parry</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Book of Job</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Romance</span></td><td align='left'><i>Sheldon</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Stop Thief</span></td><td align='left'><i>Moore</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Hero</span></td><td align='left'><i>Brown</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Misleading Lady</span></td><td align='left'><i>Goddard and Dickey</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Alias Jimmy Valentine</span> (from O. Henry's story)</td><td align='left'> <i>Armstrong</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Passers By</span></td><td align='left'><i>Chambers</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Seven Up</span></td><td align='left'><i>Coleman</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Three of Us</span></td><td align='left'><i>Crothers</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Fortune Hunter</span></td><td align='left'><i>Smith</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Alice Sit by the Fire</span></td><td align='left'><i>Barrie</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Workhouse Ward</span></td><td align='left'><i>Gregory</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Wolf</span></td><td align='left'><i>Walter</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Truth</span></td><td align='left'><i>Fitch</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Jonathan Makes a Wish</span></td><td align='left'><i>Walker</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Laughter of the Gods</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dunsany</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Tents of the Arabs</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dunsany</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Cinderella Man</span></td><td align='left'><i>Carpenter</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Good Gracious Annabelle</span></td><td align='left'><i>Kummer</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Leah Kleschna</span></td><td align='left'><i>MacClellan</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Over Night</span></td><td align='left'><i>Bartholomae</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Passing of the Third Floor Back</span></td><td align='left'><i>Jerome</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Milestones</span></td><td align='left'><i>Bennett and Knoblock</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Kismet</span></td><td align='left'><i>Knoblock</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Don</span></td><td align='left'><i>Besier</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Gibson Upright</span></td><td align='left'><i>Tarkington and Ailson</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Murderers</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dunsany</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Too Many Cooks</span></td><td align='left'><i>Craven</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>CASTS</h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree</span></h4> + +<h4>CAST FOR OPENING</h4> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">O-Sode</span></td><td align='left'><i>Harrie Fumade</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">O-Katsu</span></td><td align='left'><i>Annie Lowry</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Obaa-San</span></td><td align='left'><i>Florence Wollersen</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Gaki of Kokoru</span></td><td align='left'><i>McKay Morris</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Aoyagi</span></td><td align='left'><i>Nancy Winston</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Riki</span></td><td align='left'><i>Wilmot Heitland</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Very Naked Boy</span></h4> + +<h4>CAST FOR OPENING</h4> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">He</span></td><td align='left'><i>Willard Webster</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">She</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dorothea Carothers</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Boy</span></td><td align='left'><i>Gregory Kelly</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<h4> +<span class="smcap">Jonathan Makes a Wish</span> +</h4> +<h4>NEW YORK CAST</h4> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Aunt Letitia</span></td><td align='left'><i>Elizabeth Patterson</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Susan Sample</span></td><td align='left'><i>Beatrice Maude</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Uncle Nathaniel</span></td><td align='left'><i>George Gaul</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Uncle John</span></td><td align='left'><i>Ainsworth Arnold</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Jonathan</span></td><td align='left'><i>Gregory Kelly</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mlle. Perrault</span></td><td align='left'><i>Margaret Mower</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Hank</span></td><td align='left'><i>Edgar Stehli</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Albert Peet</span></td><td align='left'><i>Joseph Graham</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mary</span></td><td align='left'><i>Elizabeth Black</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">John III</span></td><td align='left'><i>John Talbott</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>First produced at the <i>Murat Theatre</i>, Indianapolis, August 12, 1918.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the <i>Princess Theatre</i>, New York première, September 11, 1918, Elizabeth +Patterson played Aunt Letitia, which was played in Indianapolis by Judith +Lowry.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Taken from Prof. Dickenson's book, "The Insurgent Theater," in +which a number of interesting and more recent repertories of "independent" +theaters are given.</p></div></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>A SELECTED LIST</h4> + +<h4>OF</h4> + +<h3>DRAMATIC LITERATURE</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ill-254.jpg" width="500" height="111" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +PUBLISHED BY<br /> +STEWART & KIDD COMPANY<br /> +CINCINNATI<br /> +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>DRAMATIC LITERATURE</h4> + + +<p class="center"><i>European Theories of the Drama</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>An Anthology of Dramatic Theory and Criticism from +Aristotle to the Present Day, in a Series of Selected +Texts, with Commentaries, Biographies and +Bibliographies</i></p> + +<p class="center">By BARRETT H. CLARK</p> + +<p><i>Author of</i> "Contemporary French Dramatists," "The +Continental Drama of Today," "British and American +Drama of Today," etc., etc.</p></div> + +<p>A book of paramount importance. This monumental anthology brings together +for the first time the epoch-making theories and criticisms of the drama +which have affected our civilization from the beginnings in Greece down to +the present day. Beginning with Aristotle, each utterance on the subject +has been chosen with reference to its importance, and its effect on +subsequent dramatic writing. The texts alone would be of great interest and +value, but the author, Barrett H. Clark, has so connected each period by +means of inter-chapters that his comments taken as a whole constitute a +veritable history of dramatic criticism, in which each text bears out his +statements.</p> + +<p>Nowhere else is so important a body of doctrine on the subject of the drama +to be obtained. It cannot fail to appeal to any one who is interested in +the theater, and will be indispensable to students.</p> + +<p>The introduction to each section of the book is followed by an exhaustive +bibliography; each writer whose work is represented is made the subject of +a brief biography, and the entire volume is rendered doubly valuable by the +index, which is worked out in great detail.</p> + +<p><i><b>Prof. Brander Matthews</b></i> of Columbia University says: "Mr. Clark deserves +high praise for the careful thoroughness with which he has performed the +task he set for himself. He has done well what was well worth doing. In +these five hundred pages he has extracted the essence of several five-foot +shelves. His anthology will be invaluable to all students of the principles +of playmaking; and it ought to be welcomed by all those whose curiosity has +been aroused by the frequent references of our latter day theorists of the +theater to their predecessors."</p> + +<p><i><b>Wm. Lyon Phelps</b></i> of Yale University writes: "Mr. Clark's book, 'European +Theories of the Drama,' is an exceedingly valuable work and ought to be +widely useful."</p> + +<p><i>Large 8vo, 500 pages Net, $3.50</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>Plays and Players</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Leaves from a Critic's Scrapbook</span></p> + +<p class="center">BY WALTER PRICHARD EATON PREFACE BY BARRETT H. CLARK</p> + +<p>A new volume of criticisms of plays and papers on acting, playmaking, and +other dramatic problems, by Walter Prichard Eaton, dramatic critic, and +author of "The American Stage of Today," "At the New Theater and Others," +"Idyl of the Twin Fires," etc. The new volume begins with plays produced as +far back as 1910, and brings the record down to the current year. One +section is devoted to American plays, one to foreign plays acted on our +stage, one to various revivals of Shakespeare. These sections form a record +of the important activities of the American theater for the past six years, +and constitute about half of the volume. The remainder of the book is given +over to various discussions of the actor's art, of play construction, of +the new stage craft, of new movements in our theater, such as the +Washington Square Players, and several lighter essays in the satiric vein +which characterized the author's work when he was the dramatic critic of +the <b><i>New York Sun</i></b>. Unlike most volumes of criticisms, this one is +illustrated, the pictures of the productions described in the text +furnishing an additional historical record. At a time when the drama is +regaining its lost position of literary dignity it is particularly fitting +that dignified and intelligent criticism and discussion should also find +accompanying publication.</p> + +<p><b><i>Toronto Saturday Night</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Mr. Eaton writes well and with dignity and +independence. His book should find favor with the more +serious students of the Drama of the Day.</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Detroit Free Press</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>This is one of the most interesting and also valuable +books on the modern drama that we have encountered in +that period popularly referred to as "a dog's age." Mr. +Eaton is a competent and well-esteemed critic. The book +is a record of the activities of the American stage +since 1910, down to the present. Mr. Eaton succinctly +restores the play to the memory, revisualizes the +actors, and puts the kernel of it into a nutshell for +us to ponder over and by which to correct our +impressions.</p></div> + +<p><i>Large 12mo. About 420 pages, 10 full-page illustrations on Cameo Paper and +End Papers Net $2.00</i></p> + +<p><i>Gilt top. 3/4 Maroon Turkey Morocco Net 6.50</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>Four Plays of the Free Theater</i></p> + +<p class="center">Francois de Curel's <i>The Fossils</i></p> + +<p class="center">Jean Jullien's <i>The Serenade</i></p> + +<p class="center">Georges de Porto-Riche's <i>Francoise' Luck</i></p> + +<p class="center">Georges Ancey's <i>The Dupe</i></p> + +<p><i>Translated with an introduction on Antoine and Theatre Libre by BARRETT H. +CLARK. Preface by BRIEUX, of the French Academy, and a Sonnet by EDMOND +ROSTAND.</i></p> + +<p><b><i>The Review of Reviews says</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A lengthy introduction, which is a gem of condensed +information."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>H. L. Mencken (in the Smart Set) says</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Here we have, not only skilful playwriting, but also +sound literature."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Brander Matthews says</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The book is welcome to all students of the modern +stage. It contains the fullest account of the +activities of Antoine's Free Theater to be found +anywhere—even in French."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>The Chicago Tribune says</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Clark's translations, with their accurate and +comprehensive prefaces, are necessary to anyone +interested in modern drama.... If the American reader +will forget Yankee notions of morality... if the reader +will assume the French point of view, this book will +prove a rarely valuable experience. Mr. Clark has done +this important task excellently."</p></div> + +<p><i>Handsomely Bound. 12mo. Cloth Net, $1.75</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center">DRAMATIC LITERATURE</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Contemporary French Dramatists</i></p> + +<p class="center">By BARRETT H. CLARK</p> + +<p><i>In "Contemporary French Dramatists" Mr. Barrett H. Clark, author of "The +Continental Drama of Today," "The British and American Drama of Today," +translator of "Four Plays of the Free Theater," and of various plays of +Donnay, Hervieu, Lemaître, Sardou, Lavedan, etc., has contributed the first +collection of studies on the modern French theater. Mr. Clark takes up the +chief dramatists of France beginning with the Théâtre-Libre: Curel, Brieux, +Hervieu, Lemaître, Lavedan, Donnay, Porto-Riche, Rostand, Bataille, +Bernstein, Capus, Flers, and Caillavet. The book contains numerous +quotations from the chief representative plays of each dramatist, a +separate chapter on "Characteristics" and the most complete bibliography to +be found anywhere.</i></p> + +<p><i>This book gives a study of contemporary drama in France which has been +more neglected than any other European country.</i></p> + +<p><b><i>Independent, New York</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Almost indispensable to the student of the theater."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Boston Transcript</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Clark's method of analyzing the works of the +Playwrights selected is simple and helpful. * * * As a +manual for reference or story, 'Contemporary French +Dramatists,' with its added bibliographical material, +will serve well its purpose."</p></div> + +<p><i>Uniform with FOUR PLAYS. Handsomely bound.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Cloth</i> <i>Net, $1.75</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>3/4 Maroon Turkey Morocco</i> <i>Net, $5.00</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>The Antigone of Sophocles</i></p> + +<p class="center">By PROF. JOSEPH EDWARD HARRY</p> + +<p><i>An acting version of this most perfect of all dramas. A scholarly work in +readable English. Especially adaptable for Colleges, Dramatic Societies, +etc.</i></p> + +<p><b><i>Post Express</i>, Rochester</b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"He has done his work well." "Professor Harry has +translated with a virile force that is almost +Shakespearean." "The difficult task of rendering the +choruses into English lyrical verse has been very +creditably accomplished."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Argonaut</i>, San Francisco</b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Professor Harry is a competent translator not only +because of his classical knowledge, but also because of +a certain enthusiastic sympathy that shows itself in an +unfailing choice of words and expression."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>North American</i>, Philadelphia:</b></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Professor Harry, teacher of Greek in the Cincinnati +University, has written a new metrical translation of +the Antigone of Sophocles. The translation is of fine +dramatic quality."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Oregonian</i>, Portland:</b></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A splendidly executed translation of the celebrated +Greek tragedy."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Herald</i>, Boston</b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Scholars will not need to be urged to read this +noteworthy piece of literary work, and we hope that +many others who have no special scholarly interest will +be led to its perusal."</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>8vo. cloth. Dignified binding Net, $1.00</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center">"<i>European Dramatists</i>"</p> + +<p class="center">By ARCHIBALD HENDERSON</p> + +<p><i>Author of</i> "George Bernard Shaw: His Life and Works."</p> + +<p><i>In the present work the famous dramatic critic and biographer of Shaw has +considered six representative dramatists outside of the United States, some +living, some dead—Strindberg, Ibsen, Maeterlinck, Wilde, Shaw, Barker, and +Schnitzler.</i></p> + +<p><b>Velma Swanston Howard says</b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Prof. Henderson's appraisal of Strindberg is certainly +the fairest, kindest and most impersonal that I have +yet seen. The author has that rare combination of +intellectual power and spiritual insight which casts a +clear, strong light upon all subjects under his +treatment."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Baltimore Evening Sun</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Prof. Henderson's criticism is not only notable for +its understanding and good sense, but also for the +extraordinary range and accuracy of its information."</p></div> + +<p><b>Jeanette L. Gilder, in the <i>Chicago Tribune</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Henderson is a writer who throws new light on old +subjects."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Chicago Record Herald</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"His essays in interpretation are welcome. Mr. +Henderson has a catholic spirit and writes without +parochial prejudice—a thing deplorably rare among +American critics of the present day. * * * One finds +that one agrees with Mr. Henderson's main contentions +and is eager to break a lance with him about minor +points, which is only a way of saying that he is +stimulating, that he strikes sparks. He knows his age +thoroughly and lives in it with eager sympathy and +understanding."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Providence Journal</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Henderson has done his work, within its obvious +limitations, in an exceedingly competent manner. He has +the happy faculty of making his biographical treatment +interesting, combining the personal facts and a fairly +clear and entertaining portrait of the individual with +intelligent critical comment on his artistic work."</p></div> + +<p><i>Photogravure frontispiece, handsomely printed and bound, large 12mo Net, +$2.00</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>At Last You May Understand G. B. S.</i></p> + +<p>Perhaps once in a generation a figure of commanding greatness appears, one +through whose life the history of his time may be read. There is but one +such man today.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>George Bernard Shaw</i></p> + +<p class="center">HIS LIFE AND WORKS</p> + +<p class="center">A CRITICAL BIOGRAPHY (Authorized)</p> + +<p class="center">By</p> + +<p class="center">ARCHIBALD HENDERSON, M.A. Ph.D.</p> + +<p>Is virtually the story of the social, economic and æsthetic life of the +last twenty-five years. It is a sympathetic, yet independent interpretation +of the most potent individual force in society. Cultivated America will +find here the key to all that is baffling and elusive in Shaw; it is a +cinematographic picture of his mind with a background disclosing all the +formative influences that combined to produce this universal genius.</p> + +<p><i>The press of the world has united in its praise; let us send you some of +the comments. It is a large demy 8vo volume cloth, gilt top, 628 pages, +with 35 full page illustrations in color, photogravure and halftone and +numerous pictures in the text.</i></p> + +<p><i>$5.00 Net</i></p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>The Changing Drama</i></p> + +<p class="center">By ARCHIBALD HENDERSON, M.A. Ph.D.</p> + +<p><i>Author of</i> "European Dramatists," "George Bernard Shaw—His Life and +Work." Etc.</p> + +<p>A vital book, popular in style, cosmopolitan in tone, appraising the drama +of the past sixty years, its changes, contributions and tendencies. Has an +expression of the larger realities of the art and life of our time.</p> + +<p><b><i>E. E. Hale</i></b> in <i>The Dial</i>: "One of the most widely read dramatic critics +of our day; few know as well as he what is 'up' in the dramatic world, what +are the currents of present-day thought, what people are thinking, +dreaming, doing, or trying to do."</p> + +<p><b><i>New York Times</i></b>: "Apt, happily allusive, finely informed essays on the +dramatists of our own time—his essay style is vigorous and pleasing."</p> + +<p><b><i>Book News Monthly</i></b>: "Shows clear understanding of the evolution of form +and spirit, and the differentiation of the forces—spiritual, intellectual +and social—which are making the theatre what it is today... we can +recollect no book of recent times which has such contemporaneousness, yet +which regards the subject with such excellent perspective... almost +indispensable to the general student of drama... a book of rich perspective +and sound analysis. The style is simple and direct."</p> + +<p><b><i>Geo. Middleton</i></b> in <i>La Follette's</i>: "The best attempt to formulate the +tendencies which the drama is now taking in its evolutionary course."</p> + +<p><b><i>Argonaut</i></b>: "Marked by insight, discernment and enthusiasm."</p> + +<p><i>Large 12mo. Dignified binding Net, $1.75</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>Short Plays</i></p> + +<p class="center">By MARY MACMILLAN</p> + +<p><i>To fill a long-felt want. All have been successfully presented. Suitable +for Women's Clubs, Girls' Schools, etc. While elaborate enough for big +presentation, they may be given very simply.</i></p> + +<p><b><i>Review of Reviews</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mary MacMillan offers '<span class="smcap">Short Plays</span>,' a collection of +pleasant one to three-act plays for women's clubs, +girls' schools, and home parlor production. Some are +pure comedies, others gentle satires on women's faults +and foibles. 'The Futurists,' a skit on a woman's club +in the year 1882, is highly amusing. 'Entr' Act' is a +charming trifle that brings two quarreling lovers +together through a ridiculous private theatrical. 'The +Ring' carries us gracefully back to the days of +Shakespeare; and 'The Shadowed Star,' the best of the +collection, is a Christmas Eve tragedy. The Star is +shadowed by our thoughtless inhumanity to those who +serve us and our forgetfulness of the needy. The Old +Woman, gone daft, who babbles in a kind of mongrel +Kiltartan, of the Shepherds, the Blessed Babe, of the +Fairies, rowan berries, roses and dancing, while her +daughter dies on Christmas Eve, is a splendid +characterization."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Boston Transcript</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Those who consigned the writer of these plays to +solitude and prison fare evidently knew that 'needs +must' is a sharp stimulus to high powers. If we find +humor, gay or rich, if we find brilliant wit; if we +find constructive ability joined with dialogue which +moves like an arrow; if we find delicate and keen +characterization, with a touch of genius in the choice +of names; if we find poetic power which moves on easy +wing—the gentle jailers of the writer are justified, +and the gentle reader thanks their severity."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Salt Lake Tribune</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The Plays are ten in number, all of goodly length. We +prophesy great things for this gifted dramatist."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Bookseller, News Dealer & Stationer</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The dialogue is permeated with graceful satire, +snatches of wit, picturesque phraseology, and tender, +often exquisite, expressions of sentiment."</p></div> + +<p><i>Handsomely Bound. 12mo. Cloth Net, $1.75</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>More Short Plays</i></p> + +<p class="center">BY MARY MacMILLAN</p> + +<p>Plays that act well may read well. Miss MacMillan's plays are good reading. +Nor is literary excellence a detriment to dramatic performance. They were +put on the stage before they were put into print. They differ slightly from +those in the former volume. Two of them, "The Pioneers," a story of the +settlement of the Ohio Valley, and "Honey," a little mountain girl +cotton-mill worker, are longer. The other six, "In Mendelesia," Parts I and +II, "The Dryad," "The Dress Rehearsal of Hamlet," "At the Church," and "His +Second Girl," contain the spirit of humor, something of subtlety, and +something of fantasy.</p> + +<p><b><i>Brooklyn Daily Eagle</i></b>: "Mary MacMillan, whose first volume of short plays +proved that she possessed unusual gifts as a dramatist, has justified the +hopes of her friends in a second volume, 'More Short Plays,' which reveal +the author as the possessor of a charming literary style coupled with a +sure dramatic sense that never leads her idea astray.... In them all the +reader will find a rich and delicate charm, a bountiful endowment of humor +and wit, a penetrating knowledge of human nature, and a deft touch in the +drawing of character. They are delicately and sympathetically done and +their literary charm is undeniable."</p> + +<p><i>Uniform with "Short Plays" Net, $1.75</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>The Gift</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">A Poetic Drama</span></p> + +<p class="center">By MARGARET DOUGLAS ROGERS</p> + +<p><i>A dramatic poem in two acts, treating in altogether new fashion the world +old story of Pandora, the first woman.</i></p> + +<p><b><i>New Haven Times Leader</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Well written and attractive."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Evangelical Messenger</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A very beautifully written portrayal of the old story +of Pandora."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Rochester Post Dispatch</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"There is much poetic feeling in the treatment of the +subject."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Grand Rapids Herald</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">The Gift</span>, dealing with this ever interesting +mythological story, is a valuable addition to the +dramas of the day."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>St. Xavier Calendar</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The story of Pandora is so set down as to bring out +its stage possibilities. Told by Mrs. Rogers in +exquisite language."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Salt Lake Tribune</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The tale is charmingly wrought and has possibilities +as a simple dramatic production, as well as being a +delightful morsel of light reading."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Cincinnati Enquirer</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The love story is delightfully told and the dramatic +action of the play is swift and strong."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Buffalo Express</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is a delightful bit of fancy with a dramatic and +poetic setting."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Boston Woman's Journal</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Epimetheus and Pandora and her box are charmingly +presented."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Worcester Gazette</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is absolutely refreshing to find a writer willing +to risk a venture harking back to the times of the +Muses and the other worthies of mythological fame. * * +* The story of Pandora's box told in verse by a woman. +It may be said it could not have been better written +had a representative of the one who only assisted at +the opening been responsible for the play."</p></div> + +<p><i>Handsomely bound silk cloth Net, $1.00</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>Comedies of Words and Other Plays</i></p> + +<p class="center">BY ARTHUR SCHNITZLER</p> + +<p class="center">TRANSLATED BY PIERRE LOVING</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">{"<b><i>The Hour of Recognition</i></b>"<br /></span> +<span class="i18">{"<b><i>Great Scenes</i></b>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The contents are {"<b><i>The Festival of Bacchus</i></b>"<br /></span> +<span class="i18">{"<b><i>His Helpmate</i></b>"<br /></span> +<span class="i18">{"<b><i>Literature.</i></b>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In his "Comedies of Words," Arthur Schnitzler, the great Austrian +Dramatist, has penetrated to newer and profounder regions of human +psychology. According to Schnitzler, the keenly compelling problems of +earth are: the adjustment of a man to one woman, a woman to one man, the +children to their parents, the artist to life, the individual to his most +cherished beliefs, and how can we accomplish this adjustment when, try as +we please, there is a destiny which sweeps our little plans away like +helpless chessmen from the board? Since the creation of Anatol, that +delightful toy philosopher, so popular in almost every theater of the +world, the great Physician-Dramatist has pushed on both as World-Dramatist +and reconnoiterer beyond the misty frontiers of man's conscious existence. +He has attempted in an artistic way to get beneath what Freud calls the +"Psychic Censor" which edits all our suppressed desires. Reading Schnitzler +is like going to school to Life itself!</p> + +<p><i>Bound uniform with the S & K Dramatic Series, Net $1.75</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>Lucky Pehr</i></p> + +<p class="center">By AUGUST STRINDBERG</p> + +<p><i>Authorized Translation by Velma Swanston Howard. An allegorical drama in +five acts. Compared favorably to Barrie's "Peter Pan" and Maeterlinck's +"The Blue Bird."</i></p> + +<p><b><i>Rochester Post Express</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Strindberg has written many plays which might be +described as realistic nightmares. But this remark does +not apply to "Lucky Pehr." * * * This drama is one of +the most favorable specimens of Strindberg's genius.</p></div> + +<p><b><i>New York World</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Pehr" is lucky because, having tested all things, he +finds that only love and duty are true.</p></div> + +<p><b><i>New York Times</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Lucky Pehr" clothes cynicism in real entertainment +instead of in gloom. And it has its surprises. Can this +be August Strindberg, who ends his drama so sweetly on +the note of the woman-soul, leading upward and on?</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Worcester Gazette</i></b>:</p> + +<p>From a city of Ohio comes this product of Swedish fancy in most attractive +attire, attesting that the possibilities of dramatic art have not entirely +ceased in this age of vaudeville and moving pictures. A great sermon in +altruism is preached in these pages, which we would that millions might see +and hear. To those who think or would like to think, "Lucky Pehr" will +prove a most readable book. * * * An allegory, it is true, but so are +Æsop's Fables, the Parables of the Scriptures and many others of the most +effective lessons ever given.</p> + +<p><b><i>Boston Globe</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>A popular drama. * * * There is no doubt about the book +being a delightful companion in the library. In charm +of fancy and grace of imagery the story may not be +unfairly classed with "The Blue Bird" and "Peter Pan."</p></div> + +<p><i>Photogravure frontispiece of Strindberg etched by Zorn. Also, a +reproduction of Velma Swanston Howard's authorization.</i></p> + +<p><i>Handsomely bound. Gilt top Net, $1.75</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>Easter</i></p> + +<p class="center">(<span class="smcap">A Play in Three Acts</span>)</p> + +<p class="center">AND STORIES BY AUGUST STRINDBERG</p> + +<p><i>Authorized translation by Velma Swanston Howard. In this work the author +reveals a broad tolerance, a rare poetic tenderness augmented by an almost +divine understanding of human frailties as marking certain natural stages +in evolution of the soul.</i></p> + +<p><b><i>Louisville Courier-Journal</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Here is a major key of cheerfulness and idealism—a +relief to a reader who has passed through some of the +author's morbid pages. * * * Some critics find in this +play (Easter) less of the thrust of a distinctive art +than is found in the author's more lugubrious dramas. +There is indeed less sting in it. Nevertheless it has a +nobler tone. It more ably fulfills the purpose of good +drama—the chastening of the spectators' hearts through +their participation in the suffering of the dramatic +personages. There is in the play a mystical exaltation, +a belief and trust in good and its power to embrace all +in its beneficence, to bring all confusion to harmony.</p></div> + +<p><b><i>The Nation</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Those who like the variety of symbolism which +Maeterlinck has often employed—most notably in the +"Bluebird"—will turn with pleasure to the short +stories of Strindberg which Mrs. Howard has included in +her volume. * * * They are one and all diverting on +account of the author's facility in dealing with +fanciful details.</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Bookseller</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Easter" is a play of six characters illustrative of +human frailties and the effect of the divine power of +tolerance and charity. * * * There is a symbolism, a +poetic quality, a spiritual insight in the author's +work that make a direct appeal to the cultured. * * *</p></div> + +<p><b><i>The Dial</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>One play from his (Strindberg's) third, or symbolistic +period stands almost alone. This is "Easter." There is +a sweet, sane, life-giving spirit about it.</p></div> + +<p><i>Photogravure frontispiece of Strindberg etched by Zorn. Also, a +reproduction of Velma Swanston Howard's authorization.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Handsomely bound. Gilt top Net, $1.75</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>The Hamlet Problem and Its Solution</i></p> + +<p class="center">By EMERSON VENABLE</p> + +<p><i>The tragedy of Hamlet has never been adequately interpreted. Two hundred +years of critical discussion has not sufficed to reconcile conflicting +impressions regarding the scope of Shakespeare's design in this, the first +of his great philosophic tragedies. We believe that all those students who +are interested in the study of Shakespeare will find this volume of great +value.</i></p> + +<p><b><i>The Louisville Courier-Journal</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Venable's Hamlet is a 'protagonist of a drama of +triumphant moral achievement.' He rises through the +play from an elected agent of vengeance to a man +gravely impressed with 'an imperative sense of moral +obligation, tragic in its depth, felt toward the +world.'"</p></div> + +<p><b>E. H. Sothern</b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Your ideas of Hamlet so entirely agree with my own +that the book has been a real delight to me. I have +always had exactly this feeling about the character of +Hamlet. I think you have wiped away a great many +cobwebs, and I believe your book will prove to be most +convincing to many people who may yet be a trifle in +the dark."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>The Book News Monthly</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Venable is the latest critic to apply himself to +the 'Hamlet' problem, and he offers a solution in an +admirably written little book which is sure to attract +readers. Undeterred by the formidable names of Goethe +and Coleridge, Mr. Venable pronounces untenable the +theories which those great authors propounded to +account for the extraordinary figure of the Prince of +Denmark. * * * Mr. Venable looks in another direction +for the solution of the problem. * * * The solution +offered by the author is just the reverse of that +proposed by Goethe. * * * From Mr. Venable's viewpoint +the key to 'Hamlet' is found in the famous soliloquies, +and his book is based upon a close study of those +utterances which bring us within the portals of the +soul of the real Hamlet. The reader with an open mind +will find in Mr. Venable a writer whose breadth of view +and searching thought gives weight to this competent +study of the most interesting of Shakespearean +problems."</p></div> + +<p><i>16mo. Silk cloth Net, $1.00</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>Portmanteau Plays</i></p> + +<p class="center">BY STUART WALKER</p> + +<p class="center">Edited and with an Introduction by</p> + +<p class="center">EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT</p> + +<p>This volume contains four One Act Plays by the inventor and director of the +Portmanteau Theater. They are all included in the regular repertory of the +Theater and the four contained in this volume comprise in themselves an +evening's bill.</p> + +<p>There is also an Introduction by Edward Hale Bierstadt on the Portmanteau +Theater in theory and practice.</p> + +<p>The book is illustrated by pictures taken from actual presentations of the +plays.</p> + +<p>The first play, the "<b><i>Trimplet</i></b>," deals with the search for a certain magic +thing called a trimplet which can cure all the ills of whoever finds it. +The search and the finding constitute the action of the piece.</p> + +<p>Second play, "<b><i>Six who Pass While the Lentils Boil</i></b>" is perhaps the most +popular in Mr. Walker's repertory. The story is of a Queen who, having +stepped on the ring-toe of the King's great-aunt, is condemned to die +before the clock strikes twelve. The Six who pass the pot in which boil the +lentils are on their way to the execution.</p> + +<p>Next comes "<b><i>Nevertheless</i></b>," which tells of a burglar who oddly enough +reaches regeneration through two children and a dictionary.</p> + +<p>And last of all is the "<b><i>Medicine-Show</i></b>," which is a character study +situated on the banks of the Mississippi. One does not see either the Show +or the Mississippi, but the characters are so all sufficient that one does +not miss the others.</p> + +<p>All of these plays are fanciful—symbolic if you like—but all of them have +a very distinct raison d'être in themselves, quite apart from any ulterior +meaning.</p> + +<p>With Mr. Walker it is always "the story first," and herein he is at one +with Lord Dunsany and others of his ilk. The plays have body, force, and +beauty always; and if the reader desires to read in anything else surely +that is his privilege.</p> + +<p>Each play, and even the Theater itself has a prologue, and with the help of +these one is enabled to pass from one charming tale to the next without a +break in the continuity.</p> + +<p><i>With five full-page illustrations on cameo paper.</i></p> + +<p><i>12mo. Silk cloth $1.75</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>The Truth About The Theater</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Anonymous</i></p> + +<p>Precisely what the title indicates—facts as they are, plain and +unmistakable without veneer of any sort. It goes directly to the heart of +the whole matter. Behind the writer of it—who is one of the best known +theatrical men in New York—are long years of experience. He recites what +he knows, what he has seen, and his quiet, calm, authoritative account of +conditions as they are is without adornment, excuse or exaggeration. It is +intended to be helpful to those who want the facts, and for them it will +prove of immeasurable value.</p> + +<p>"The Truth About the Theater," in brief, lifts the curtain on the American +stage. It leaves no phase of the subject untouched. To those who are +ambitious to serve the theater, either as players or as playwrights, or, +again, in some managerial capacity, the book is invaluable. To those, too, +who would know more about the theater that they may come to some fair +estimate of the worth of the innumerable theories nowadays advanced, the +book will again prove its value.</p> + +<p><i>Net $1.00</i></p> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of More Portmanteau Plays, by Stuart Walker + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE PORTMANTEAU PLAYS *** + +***** This file should be named 37967-h.htm or 37967-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/6/37967/ + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. 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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: More Portmanteau Plays + +Author: Stuart Walker + +Editor: Edward Hale Bierstadt + +Release Date: November 10, 2011 [EBook #37967] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE PORTMANTEAU PLAYS *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Kentuckiana Digital Library.) + + + + + + + +[Illustration: STUART WALKER WITH THE WORKING MODEL OF HIS PORTMANTEAU +THEATRE] + + + + +MORE PORTMANTEAU PLAYS + +BY + +STUART WALKER + +Author of Portmanteau Plays + +Edited, and with an Introduction by + +EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT + +[Illustration: ILLUSTRATED] + +CINCINNATI +STEWART & KIDD COMPANY +1919 + + +STEWART &. KIDD DRAMATIC SERIES + +The Portmanteau Plays + +By Stuart Walker + +Edited and with an Introduction by + +Edward Hale Bierstadt + +VOL. 1--Portmanteau Plays + + Introduction + The Trimplet + Nevertheless + Six Who Pass While the Lintels Boil + Medicine Show + +VOL. 2--More Portmanteau Plays + + Introduction + The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree + The Very Naked Boy + Jonathan Makes a Wish + +VOL. 3--Portmanteau Adaptations + + Introduction + Gammer Gurton's Needle + The Birthday of the Infanta + "Seventeen" + +_Each of the above three volumes handsomely bound and illustrated. Per +volume net $1.75_ + + +STEWART & KIDD CO., PUBLISHERS + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +STUART WALKER WITH THE WORKING MODEL OF +HIS PORTMANTEAU THEATRE _Frontispiece_ + + FACING PAGE + +THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE, ACT III 34 + +THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE, ACT III 63 + +THE VERY NAKED BOY 80 + +JONATHAN MAKES A WISH, ACT I I 130 + +JONATHAN MAKES A WISH, ACT II II 149 + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +During the period which has elapsed between the publication of _Portmanteau +Plays_, and that of the present volume our country entered upon the +greatest war in history, and emerged victorious. It is far too early to +estimate what effect that war has had or may have upon all art in general, +and upon the dramatic and theatric arts in particular, but there is every +indication that the curtain is about to rise on the great romantic revival +which we have watched and waited for, and of which Stuart Walker has been +one of the major prophets. + +During the actual period of the war many of the creative and interpretative +artists of the theater were engaged either directly in army work or in one +of its auxiliary branches. It is amusing to recall that the present writer +met Schuyler Ladd serving as Mess Sergeant for a Base Hospital in France, +Alexander Wollcott, late dramatic critic of the New York _Times_, attached +to the _Stars and Stripes_ in Paris, and Douglas Stuart, the London +producer, in an English hospital at Etretat, the while he himself was +serving as an enlisted man on the staff of the same hospital. These are +minor instances, but when they have been multiplied several hundred times +one begins to see how closely the actor, the critic, and the producer were +involved in the struggle. Again the problem of providing proper +entertainment for the troops was, and still is, a serious one. In the great +number of cases it seems highly probable that the entertainment along such +lines done by the men themselves was far more effective than that provided +by outside organizations. More than once, however, it appeared to the +writer that here was a field especially suited to the _Portmanteau Theater_ +and to its repertory. The question of transportation, always a crucial +point with such a venture, was no more difficult than that presented by +many companies already in the field, and doing immensely inferior work. My +return to America put me in possession of the facts of the matter, and +without desiring in any way to cast blame, much less to indict, or to +emphasize unduly a relatively unimportant point, it seems only fitting that +there should be included in this record the reasons for what has seemed to +many of us a lost opportunity. They are at least much more brief than the +apologia which precedes them. + +The _Portmanteau Theater_, its repertory of forty-eight plays, and its +trained company, was offered for war purposes under the following +conditions: no royalty was to be paid for any of the plays, no salary was +to be paid Mr. Walker; the company was to go wherever sent, whether in or +out of shell fire, in France or in England; the only stipulation being that +the members of the company should be remunerated at the same rate paid an +enlisted man in the United States army, and that the principal members +should receive the pay of subalterns. On the whole an arrangement so +generous that it is almost absurd. To this offer the Y. M. C. A. turned a +deaf ear. Their attention was concentrated on vaudeville at the moment, +and with one hand they covered their eyes while with the other they +clutched their purse strings. The War Camp Community Service could see no +way in which the Theater could function for the men either at home or +abroad. The _Portmanteau_ was, in a word, too "high-brow" a venture for +them. The reader is referred to the Appendix of this volume showing the +repertory in use at that time. Another official contented himself with the +statement that the problem of transportation involved rendered the project +impracticable. The matter is too lengthy to discuss here, but the writer, +who was able to observe the situation at first hand, knows this to be an +error. The navy then asked for plans and estimates so that a number of +_Portmanteau Theaters_ might be constructed aboard the ships. Mr. Walker +offered to put all his patents at the complete disposal of the Navy +Department, and himself was ready to draw plans and make suggestions. The +navy approved the idea, and with sublime assurance requested Mr. Walker to +proceed with the work of construction--at his own expense. It was +impossible; the money could not be afforded, and the venture was abandoned. +It is therefore very evident that there was an opportunity, and that that +opportunity was lost; but it was not the _Portmanteau_ which lost it. At +any rate we are left free to take up the history of Mr. Walker's theater +and his plays at the point where we left off in the first book of the +series. + +The close of the highly successful season at the _Princess Theater_ in New +York, the winter of 1915-1916, was followed by twelve weeks on the road, +three of which were spent in Chicago, and then by thirteen weeks in +Indianapolis. It was in this last city that the production of the +adaptation of Booth Tarkington's book, "Seventeen," changed all plans by +its instant popularity. On the way East, a stop was made in Chicago, and +before that city had time to do much more than voice its enthusiasm, the +company left for New York. During the fall of 1917 _Seventeen_ was played +regularly, with the addition of some special performances of the repertory. +_Seventeen_ was played in New York for two hundred and fifty-eight +performances (Chicago had already had one hundred), and the special +performances of _The Book of Job_ were renewed in the spring. It was during +the next fall, that of 1918, that a second _Seventeen_ company was sent out +on the road. That company is still out, the total playing time for the work +since its production being (April, 1919) just one hundred and four weeks. +The next summer, 1918, included a repertory season of thirteen weeks, again +at Indianapolis, and four in Cincinnati, while the following winter, just +past, chimed ten weeks of repertory at the _Punch and Judy Theater_ in New +York. To sum up in brief then--Mr. Walker has, beginning in the spring of +1916 and ending in the spring of 1919, played seventy-six weeks of +repertory, in which he has produced forty-eight plays. This does not +include the _Seventeen_ run which, as I have said, totals one hundred and +four weeks to date. It is safe to claim that this represents as successful +repertory work as has been done in the United States so far. We shall, +however, return to that presently. + +In the fall of 1917, so important to the Portmanteau company, a change of +management was instituted, by which the following staff came into control: +Stage Director--Gregory Kelly: Stage Manager--Morgan Farley: Musical +Director--Michel Bernstein: Manager--Harold Holstein: Press +Representative--Alta May Coleman: Treasurer--Walter Herzbrun. The changes +were excellent, and were thoroughly justified in their results. An +arrangement was made with the Shuberts, whereby booking was greatly +facilitated, and with its structure thus reinforced, the Theater was in an +excellent position to "carry on." + +It may be remembered by those who read the first book of the _Portmanteau +Series_ that in my introduction I placed the greater portion of my emphasis +on the theatrical side; that is, the _Portmanteau_ as a portable theater +rather than as a repertory company. It is my intention here to reverse the +process, and this for two reasons. First: Mr. Walker has in the last two +years by no means confined himself to the _Portmanteau_ stage. The recent +run at the _Punch and Judy Theater_ in New York was upon a full size stage, +and this was not at all an exception. The _Portmanteau_ was, and is, an +idea, but that idea has no very definite connection with repertory as such. +There is no longer the need, in this particular instance, that there once +was, for the invariable use of the _Portmanteau_, except as convenience +requires. At the very beginning, when the company often played for private +persons, the portable stage was indispensable. But so thoroughly did the +_Portmanteau_ idea justify itself that from being a crutch it grew into a +handy staff, always valuable, but no longer essential. All that has been +said of it, and of its possibilities, is quite as true today as ever it +was, but now having proved his original thesis, if so it may be called, Mr. +Walker may well be content to work out the future gradually and in his own +way. Second: the repertory idea is certainly of infinitely more importance +than any theatrical device or contrivance, however interesting and valuable +such a departure may be in itself. As to any difference in the acting +necessitated by the change from a small to a large stage that amounts to +little. It is entirely a difference in quality, an ability to temper the +interpretation to the surroundings, and as such would apply as readily to +the staging and setting of a play as to the acting itself. On a large stage +one might take three steps to convey an impression where on a small stage +one step would produce the same effect. An arch or pylon would obviously +have to be of greater proportions on a large stage than on a small one. Yet +in both these instances the ultimate effect is precisely the same. Let us +turn then to a consideration of the Portmanteau, not as a theater, but as a +repertory company. + +There is certainly no space here, and just as certainly no necessity, for +dwelling long upon the prime importance of repertory. Several excellent +books have been written on that absorbing subject, and we may surely take +for granted that which we know beyond all doubt to be the truth, namely, +that repertory as opposed to the "long run" and to the "star" system is the +ultimate solution of a most vexatious and perplexing problem--how to change +the modern theater from an industry to an art. The disadvantages of the +present mode of procedure are too evident to call for recapitulation; +witness the results obtained. On the other hand there can be no question +that there is a practicable and simple panacea in repertory; see what has +been done by the Abbey company in Dublin, by Miss Horniman's players in +Manchester, by the _Scottish Repertory Theater_, on a smaller scale, in +Glasgow, by John Drinkwater's repertory theater in Birmingham, concerning +which I have, unfortunately, no exact data, but which I understand is doing +remarkable work with distinct success, and by the Portmanteau company in +the United States. It would be well also to include Charles Frohman's +season at the _Duke of York's Repertory Theater_ in London; in fact the +inclusion of this seventeen weeks' season would be inevitable. Where the +experiment has failed it has failed for reasons which did not, in any way, +shape or manner, invalidate the principle at stake. Thus, to cite the great +example on our own side of the water, the _New Theater_ was doomed to +failure from the very start in the fact that it was born crippled. It may +be restated to advantage, just here, that from the spring of 1916 to the +spring of 1919, a period of three years, Mr. Walker has produced +forty-eight plays, has given seventy-six weeks of repertory, and has had a +nearly unbroken run of one hundred and four weeks with one play which has +been commercially successful beyond the others. Of the forty-eight plays +produced during this time eighteen had never been seen before on any stage; +four were entirely new to America (except for a possible itinerant amateur +performance); and twenty-six were revivals, modern, semi-modern, and +classical. It is my belief that this record will take a creditable position +in the history of American repertory. Abroad, however, its place is less +secure, but even here the _Portmanteau_ is by no means snowed under. + +In the other great English speaking country there are four outstanding +examples of repertory work, as has already been stated. On the Continent +the situation is entirely different; there is no "problem" there, for the +repertory theater has long been an established fact. France, in the +_Comedie-Francaise_, and Germany, in several of her theaters before the +war, merely provide us with a criterion. In Great Britain, however, and in +America, we are in the process of building and adjusting, so that the +examples of one will reasonably affect the other. At the risk of being +misunderstood we shall pause long enough to call attention to the _Irving +Place Theatre_,[1] of New York, a German house supporting German plays, and +attended very largely by a German clientele, but notwithstanding all this a +repertory theater of standing, and of some distinction, from which we might +learn several useful lessons. However, it is with the Anglo-American stage +that we have to do at the moment. + +Doubtless, first in importance comes the Abbey Theater Company of Dublin. +From December, 1905, to December, 1912, there were produced at the _Abbey +Theater_ (I am unfortunately unable to include the several important tours +made) seventy-four plays, of which seven were translations. Of the rest but +few were revivals, as the history of the Irish literary movement will show. +They were plays written especially for the theater, for particular +audiences, and to achieve definite purpose as propaganda. Moreover, when +the _Abbey_ was tottering on the brink of failure, Miss Horniman came to +the rescue with a substantial subsidy which enabled the theater not only to +proceed, but finally to establish itself on a sound running basis. Mr. +Walker's company has had to fight its own way from the very start. + +In Manchester, Miss Horniman's own repertory company at the _Midland +Theater_ and finally at the _Gaiety_ has been distinctly and brilliantly +successful. In a period of a little more than two years there were produced +fifty-five plays; twenty-eight new, seventeen revivals of modern English +plays, five modern translations, and five classics. This is a repertory as +well balanced as it is wide. In 1910, however, there was inaugurated the +practise of producing each play for a run of one week, so that from that +time on the theater was open to the criticism of being not a repertory in +the fullest sense of the term, but a short run theater. But for that +matter, I do not think that there is a repertory theater either in England +or in America which fulfills the ideal conditions set down by William +Archer who had in mind, as he wrote, the repertory theater of the +Continent. + +"When we speak of a repertory, we mean a number of plays always ready for +performance, with nothing more than a 'run through' rehearsal, which, +therefore, can be, and are, acted in such alternation that three, four or +five different plays may be given in the course of a week. New plays are +from time to time added to the repertory, and those of them which succeed +may be performed fifty, seventy, a hundred times, or even more, in the +course of one season; but no play is ever performed more than two or three +times in uninterrupted succession."[2] + +This applies exactly to the _Comedie-Francaise_, which, in the year 1909, +presented one hundred and fifteen plays, eighteen of which were performed +for the first time, the remainder being a part of the regular body of the +repertory of that theater. In the first decade of the present century there +were no less than two hundred and eighty-two plays added to the repertory +of the _Comedie_. It may be of service to remember, however, that the +_Comedie-Francaise_ was established by royal decree in 1680. If the _Globe +Theater_ of Shakespeare's day had lived and prospered up to the present we +might have an example to match that of France. + +It is probable that if one were to use the phrase "repertory in America" +the wise ones of the theater would raise their eye-brows stiffly and +remark, "There is none." That would be nearly true, but not altogether so. +It is my desire here to sketch in brief the early beginnings of what has +been termed the "independent theater" movement,[3] from which repertory in +this country unquestionably grew, up to the time of the establishment of +the "little theaters" which now dot the country, and into which movement +that of the "independent theater" eventually merged. + +In 1887 there was inaugurated by A. M. Palmer at the _Madison Square +Theater_, of which he was manager at that time, a series of "author's +matinees" which appear to have been in some sense try-outs for a possible +repertory season. Only three plays were produced, however, before Mr. +Palmer decided against the scheme as impracticable. It is interesting to +note that these three plays were all by American authors--Howells, +Matthews, and Lathrop. The attempt was actually not repertory in the +strict sense, but it undoubtedly marks a tendency, slight, but evident, to +incline in the right direction. + +Some four years later, in the fall of 1891, a Mr. McDowell, son of General +McDowell of Civil War fame, started the _Theater of Arts and Letters_ with +the idea of bringing literature and the drama into closer relationship. +Five plays were produced, and among the names of the authors (again they +were all natives) one finds several which have since become famous. +Commercially, the venture was a total failure, and the authors did not even +collect their full royalties. A short tour was made with several of the +more successful plays, one by Clyde Fitch (a one-act which was afterwards +expanded into _The Moth and the Flame_), one by Richard Harding Davis, and +one by Brander Matthews. All three of these were one-act. American authors +were willing enough to write plays, but they apparently could not succeed, +except in isolated instances, in writing good ones. There was evidently an +utter dearth of suitable material. Nevertheless, when foreign plays were +put on no better fortune ensued, unless they represented the old school of +pseudo melodrama, and farce adapted from the French and German, such as +Augustin Daly delighted in. Daly too had discovered that to encourage the +American playwright was to court disaster. + +In 1897 _The Criterion_, a New York review of rather eccentric merit, +endeavored to establish the _Criterion Independent Theater_ modeled on the +_Theatre-Libre_ of Antoine. A company was recruited, headed by E. J. +Henley, and performances were given at first the _Madison Square Theater_, +and then the _Berkeley Lyceum_. It was frankly intended that the appeal +should be to a small, select audience, and, in spite of the jeers of the +press, five plays were produced--one Norwegian, one Italian, one French, +one Spanish, and one American. A glance through the list shows us that the +American play, by Augustus Thomas, is the only one which has not since +entered into the permanent literature of the stage. Internal differences, +and imperfect rehearsals combined to overthrow the venture which, after one +season, was abandoned. The success of the last production, however, _El +Gran Galeoto_, inspired Mr. John Blair to produce Ibsen's _Ghosts_ with +Miss Mary Shaw at the _Carnegie Lyceum_ in 1899. From this sprang _The +Independent Theater_, generously backed financially by Mr. George Peabody +Eustis of Washington. + +The list of the patrons of this theater reads like a chapter from "Who's +Who." Many of the men associated with the plan gave their services free or +at a nominal cost. The three persons more directly responsible for the +artistic side of the work were Charles Henry Meltzer, John Blair, and +Vaughan Kester, while among the patrons were W. D. Howells, Bronson Howard, +E. C. Stedman, E. H. Sothern, Charles and Daniel Frohman, and Sir Henry +Irving. Six plays were given, this time none of them of American origin. +The press and critics were most bitter in their denunciation of these +foreign importations, as they had been on the previous occasion. There was, +however, on the part of the audiences a definite tendency to let drop the +scales from their eyes, and to awake to the new forces in the drama and the +theater as represented by Ibsen, Hervieu, the _Theatre-Libre_, and the +_Independent Theater_. But in spite of all this, one season's work saw the +conclusion of the project. A part of the repertory was given in other +cities, notably Boston and Washington, but, though a very real interest was +aroused, it was not sufficient to permit the company to continue. About two +thousand dollars represented the deficit at the end of the season; by no +means a discreditable balance, albeit on the wrong side of the ledger, when +one considers the circumstances. The actual results of the work are summed +up in a privately printed pamphlet written by Mr. Meltzer than whom no one +was more closely in touch with the whole independent movement. + +"What have the American 'Independents' achieved by their efforts? + +"They have succeeded, thanks to Mr. George Peabody Eustis, the general +manager of the scheme, in giving twenty-two performances of plays +recognized everywhere abroad as characteristic, interesting, and literary. + +"They have extended the 'Independent' movement from New York to Boston and +Washington. + +"They have encouraged at least one 'regular' manager to announce the +production next season of an Ibsen play. + +"They have revived discussion of the general tendencies of modern drama. + +"They have interested, and occasionally charmed, an intelligent minority of +playgoers, who have grown weary of the rank insipidity, vulgarity, and +improbability of current drama. + +"They have bored, angered, and distressed a less intelligent majority of +playgoers and critics. + +"They have discovered at least one new actress of unusual worth. + +"They have prepared the way, at a by no means inconsiderable cost of time, +thought, and money, for future, and perhaps, more prosperous movements +aiming at the reform of the American stage." + +Coming at the time it did, sponsored by the best minds in America, and +worked to its conclusion by whole hearted enthusiasts, _The Independent +Theater_ did, beyond all doubt, have a very vitalizing effect on both the +stage and the drama of this country. The next step, perhaps the climactic +one of the series, was longer in coming (1909). + +The _New Theater_ has been our greatest attempt and our greatest failure. +The details of these two seasons have been placed before the public so many +times that there is no necessity for doing more here than suggesting a +broad outline. If the enterprise had, from its very inception, been in the +hands of capable men who knew their work, instead of being handicapped by +wealthy amateurs the history of a failure might never have been written. In +its first season _The New Theater_ presented thirteen plays at intervals of +a fortnight. Of these, four were classics, three were original works by +native authors, and two by contemporary British dramatists. During the +second season, at the end of which the idea was given up and the _New +Theater_ abandoned, eleven plays were produced; six of these were of +British origin, semi-modern; one was a classic; three were Belgian, and one +was American. I have counted in this season, two plays produced the season +before, the only revivals. Altogether then, twenty-two plays were given, +only five of which can be considered as home products. Mr. Ames, the +Director, was balked at every turn by the combined forces of Fifth Avenue +and Wall Street, while the outrageous and impossible construction of the +theater itself proved an insurmountable handicap. In addition it was now +found almost impossible to induce the American dramatist to turn from the +great profits of the long run Broadway theaters to the acceptance of one +hundred and fifty dollars a performance at the _New Theater_. There was +something to be said on both sides. The _New Theater_ was a splendid and +costly attempt, and it taught us several invaluable lessons, chief among +them the occasional unimportance of money. + +Probably next in order comes the short repertory of Miss Grace George at +the _Playhouse_ in 1915 and 1917. This lasted for about one season and a +half, and, while there was promise of continuation, the project was finally +abandoned. It is only fair to say that Miss George worked under the +peculiar disadvantage of entire lack of sympathy, and indeed, open +antagonism as well, on the part of several of her most important confreres. +The real trouble seemed to be one of those that affected the _New Theater_, +that is, Miss George was totally unable to secure American plays for her +purposes. In the period of her project she produced seven plays; five the +first year, and two the next. Of these, five were modern British plays, one +was a translation from the French, and one was semi-modern American. Again +it will be observed that American plays were simply not forthcoming, a +condition widely different from that obtaining during the nineties when the +_Theater of Arts and Letters_, and the _Criterion Independent_ held their +short sway. Miss George's effort was distinctly worth while, but in the end +there was added only another gravestone to the cemetery of buried hopes.[4] + +With the advent of the "little theater" movement, from about 1905, there +are many small companies and theaters which can, in a broad sense, fairly +be termed repertory. To discuss any number of them would require a book in +itself, and the reader is referred to "_The Insurgent Theater_" by +Professor Dickenson as the work most nearly fulfilling this need. Probably +the _Washington Square Players_ of New York are typical, more or less, of +them all, and their repertory for two years is given in the Appendix. Aside +from the natural conditions resulting from the war, one reason of their +failure seems to have been their pernicious desire to be "different" at any +cost. In spite of their excellent work they ultimately found that cost to +be prohibitive, but the discovery was made too late.[5] The majority of the +little theaters are, however, too entirely provincial in their appeal to +warrant an assumption of any great influence, in spite of their vital and +unquestionable importance.[6] + +It will be observed that in speaking of Stuart Walker's work I have used +the phrase repertory _company_, not, repertory _theater_. That is, of +course, part of the secret. A theater anchored to one spot is obviously at +a disadvantage. It cannot seek its audience, but must sit with what +patience and capital it has at its disposal, and wait for the audience to +come to it. With a touring company the odds are more even. An unsuccessful +month in one city may be made up by a successful one in another. The type +of play that captivates the west may not go at all in the east, and the +other way about. There are plays now on the road, and which have been there +literally for years, doing excellent business, which have never ventured to +storm the very rocky coast bounding New York. And there are plays which +have had crowded houses in the metropolis which have slumped, and +deservedly so, most dismally when they were taken out where audiences were +possessed of a clearer vision. Hence it is easy to see that Mr. Walker, +playing in both the east and the west, in small cities and in large ones, +can do what the _New Theater_ and the _Playhouse_ could not do. True, they +could send their companies out on tour, but the _New Theater_ with its huge +stage and panoramic scenery could find but few theaters which could house +it, and the whole idea of both that and Miss George's company was a fixed +repertory theater. Indeed in both of them the faults of the "star" system +were never wholly absent. + +The facts that I have been able to give here seem to point to but one +conclusion. That is, that Stuart Walker's repertory company stands +numerically on a par with anything else of the kind ever attempted in the +United States, and that it is not unworthy of comparison with the best +repertory work in England. It must be borne in mind that, in some measure, +all this has been done on a fairly small scale. There has not been the +money at hand to do it otherwise, nor has there been the necessity. The +company may be compared better with the _Gaiety_ of Manchester than with +the _Duke of York's Theater_. And too, as with the _Gaiety_, many of the +players have been relatively unknown before their advent on the +_Portmanteau_ stage. It is the definite mission, or some part of it at any +rate, of the repertory company to encourage new dramatists, new players, +and new stage effects when such encouragement is advisable. To be merely +different is by no means to be worth while. + +The three plays included in this volume have all been presented +successfully both in the east and in the west. The two long plays--_The +Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree_ and _Jonathan Makes a Wish_--both have the +distinction of being popular with audiences and unpopular with critics, a +condition of affairs not as unique as it might seem. As for the third, _The +Very Naked Boy_, it is a thoroughly delightful trifle, unimportant as +drama, yet very perfect in itself, and has been liked by nearly everyone. +Combining, as it does, comedy and sentiment, it possesses all the elements +that go to make for success with the average audience. + +_The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree_ is founded on an old Japanese legend, +how old no one knows. Mr. Walker became interested in Japanese folk-lore +through a collection of ballads; it is amusing to observe how his fondness +for ballads has followed him through all his work, and this play was the +result. From the first it went well. Apparently no one could resist the +pathos of the intensely human story which culminated in so tragic a form. +One might think that the appeal in a play of this type, written by an +author so well known as an artist in stagecraft, would be largely visual. +While that appeal is unquestionably there in abundance, the real essence of +the tale is the vitally human quality of its characters. One is indeed +inclined to believe that we take our pleasures sadly, when he has seen an +audience quite dissolved in tears at a performance of this play, and all +the while enjoying themselves unutterably. It is a drama of imagination and +of emotion. The cold, hard, and more often than not deceiving light of the +intellect plays but a small part. It is the human heart with its passions, +its fears, its regrets, and its aspirations that concerns us here; not the +human mind with its essentially microcosmic point of view, and its petty, +festering egoism. The play is beautiful because it is true, and equally it +is true because it is beautiful. It seems to me quite the best and +soundest piece of work Mr. Walker has done so far, though he himself +prefers his later play, _Jonathan Makes a Wish_. + +This last play is more realistic--stupid term!--than anything of a serious +nature that the author has so far attempted. It is, however, the realism of +Barrie rather than that of Brieux, and this at any rate is consoling. The +first act is extraordinary, splendid in thought, in technique, and in +execution. Therein lies the trouble, if trouble there be. Neither of the +two acts following can reach the level of the first, and with the opening +of the second act the play gradually, though hardly perceptibly, declines, +not in interest, but in strength. The transposition of the character of the +Tramp from an easy going good nature in the first act to that of a Dickens +villain in the second may require explanation. The last sensation the boy +has is that of the blow on his head, and his last visualization is that of +the Tramp's face bending over him. Thus, in his delirium, the two would +inevitably be associated. The story of the delirium, the second act, is +peculiarly well done. One feels the slight haziness of outline, the great +consequence of actually inconsequential events, the morbid terror lurking +always in the near background, which are a very part and parcel of that +strange psychological condition which is here made to play a spiritual +part. The last act suffers for want of material. In reality, all that is +necessary is to wind up the play speedily and happily. It seems probable +that the introduction of the deliciously charming Frenchwoman, played so +delightfully by Margaret Mower, would give the needed color and substance +to this portion. As it is, one feels a little something lacking--but only a +little. That the play is, as one pseudo-critic remarked, an argument in +favor of infant playwrights, is too absurd to discuss. If it argues at all, +it is that the relationship between the child world and the adult must be +democratic, not tyrannic, and that flowers grow, like weeds, only when they +are encouraged, not trod upon. The play is interesting, true, and +imaginative to a degree; if it is not wholly satisfactory, it but partakes +of the faults of virtue. Audiences, young, old, metropolitan and urban, +have responded to the work in a manner which left no doubt of their +approval. In New York it was slow in taking hold, and unfortunately the +company was obliged to leave to fill other engagements just at the time +when a more definite success was at hand. In the west the spirit of the +thing caught at once; there was no hesitation there. + +From the beginning there has been a very definite plan in Mr. Walker's mind +as to what his objective point was to be, and especially in view of what I +have said of his company in connection with repertory it may be interesting +to suggest the outline of that plan here. This is no less than to establish +in some city a permanent repertory theater and company, and to use the +_Portmanteau Theater_ and company for touring purposes. It is an amusing +thought; the little theater would shoot out from under the wing of its +parent as a raiding party detaches itself from its company, but the +consequences would be, one hopes, less destructive on both sides. The +thought, however, is really much more than amusing; it is of very real +consequence and importance. It will readily be seen that in this we have a +combination of the advantages of both the stationary and the touring +repertory company, and hence, double the chances of success. And Mr. Walker +would by no means be restricted to one _Portmanteau Theater_. If conditions +warranted it he could as easily construct and send out a dozen on the road, +taking his work into every nook and corner of the theater-loving country. +In fact the ramifications of the idea are so vast that it is useless to +endeavor to do more than suggest them here. The reader will see for himself +what great possibilities are involved, and what an effect this might have +on all repertory work in America. + +During the last two years the work of Mr. Walker's company has improved in +every way. The addition of new members, such as Margaret Mower, and +particularly George Gaul, whose performance In _The Book of Job_ was, in my +opinion, one of the finest ever seen on the American stage, has naturally +served to strengthen the fabric greatly. The older members of the company, +Gregory Kelly, McKay Morris, Edgar Stehli and many others, have all +improved in their work, increasing in assurance and finish. The success +that has attended the fortunes of the theater has made possible finer stage +effects (the Dunsany productions have been immensely improved) and the +repertory has been greatly enriched by some really fine plays, and has been +enhanced by others of a more popular character. One thing must be said, +however, in all fairness. It has seemed to the writer that of late there +has been an increasing tendency on the part of Mr. Walker's scenic artists +and costume designers to fall away from the plain surfaces and unbroken +lines of the new stagecraft, and to achieve an effect which one can only +characterize as "spotty." This can best be appreciated by those who know +the two American productions of Dunsany's one-act play, _The Tents of the +Arabs_. I am rather regretfully of the opinion that, aside from the actual +playing and reading of the parts, Sam Hume's production was superior to +that of Mr. Walker. An opulence of variegated colors does not always +suggest as much as flat masses. The set used by Mrs. Hapgood in her +production of Torrence's _Simon the Cyrenian_ illustrates excellently the +desired result. It is, however, Stuart Walker's privilege to adapt the new +ideas, and to make such use of the old, as seems best to him. One is +sometimes inclined to miss, nevertheless, the simplicity of his earlier +work, especially when it is compared with the splendor, not always well +used or well advised, of his later productions. His company has always read +beautifully, and its reading is now better than ever. The only adverse +criticism, if adverse criticism there be at all, lies against the Stage +Director himself. I am especially glad to be able to say this, for the +producer whose work is too good, too smooth, is surely stumbling to a fall. +The very fact that there is definite room for improvement in the +_Portmanteau_ presentations, leads one to feel, knowing the record of the +company, that these improvements will be made. + +To return for a moment to an earlier phase of our discussion, it may be +both interesting and profitable to note the fact that while the _Abbey_, +the _Manchester_, and the _New Theaters_ were all aided by material +subsidies, the _Portmanteau_ has stood on its own legs, albeit they wabbled +a trifle on occasion, from the very start. A little, but only a little, +money has been borrowed, and there has been just one gift, that of $5000. +This last was accepted for the reason that it would enable the Theater to +mount sets and costume plays in a rather better fashion than heretofore. +While it was not absolutely essential to the continued existence of the +_Portmanteau_ it made presently possible productions which otherwise would +have been postponed indefinitely; in British army slang it would be called +"bukshee," meaning extra, like the thirteenth cake in the dozen. The record +of the _Portmanteau_ is its own, and that of its many friends who have been +generous in contributing that rarest of all gifts, sympathetic +understanding. + +Before withdrawing my intrusive finger from the _Portmanteau_ pie I should +like to pay a small tribute to Stuart Walker himself. I do not think I have +ever known a man who gave more unsparingly of himself in all his work. That +dragon of the theater, the expense account, has often necessitated someone +shouldering the work of half a dozen who were not there. Always it is Mr. +Walker who has taken the task upon his back, cheerfully and willingly, and +despite physical ills, under which a less determined man would have +succumbed. His never wavering belief in his work and his ability to do that +work have brought him through many a pitfall. It is not a petty vanity, +but the strong conceit of the artist; that which most of us call by the +vague term ideals. The spirit of the _Portmanteau_ is to be found alike in +its offices and on its stage; a spirit of unselfish belief that somehow, +somewhere, we all shall "live happily ever after" if only we do the work we +are set to do faithfully here and now. The theater, the organization which +has that behind it, in conjunction with a keenly intelligent co-operation +or team-play, will take a great deal of punishment before it goes down. +Mistakes have been made, of course; otherwise neither producer nor company +were human; but it is in the acknowledgment and rectification of errors +that men become great. + +The repertory theater, the new drama, and stage craft, have an able ally in +the _Portmanteau_. We may look far afield for that elixir which will +transmute the base metal of the commercial theater to the bright gold of +art, but unless we remember that the pot of treasure is to be found at this +end of the rainbow, and not the other, our search will be in vain. + +EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT. + +New York City, +April, 1919. + + * * * * * + +ACKNOWLEDGMENTS + +I wish to acknowledge with gratitude the assistance given me by Mr. Brander +Matthews, Mr. Montrose Moses, and by Mr. Charles Henry Meltzer in obtaining +data, verifying dates and names, and by their kindly advice. + +E. H. B. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Since America's entrance in the War given over to the "movies." + +[2] Mr. John Palmer, in his book, "The Future of the Theater," gives the +following as the programme for the then, 1913, projected National Theater. +The war intervened, however, and the venture has been lost sight of for the +moment. This statement is even more reasonable than that of Mr. Archer, for +this is intended for practical use in England while his was merely taken +from France. + +"... it seems desirable to state that a repertory theater should be held to +mean a theater able to present at least two different plays of full length +at evening performances in each completed week during the annual season, +and at least three different plays at evening performances and matinees +taken together ... and the number of plays presented in a year should not +be less than twenty-five. A play of full length means a play occupying at +least two-thirds of the whole time of any performance. But two two-act +plays, or three one-act plays, composing a single programme, should, for +the purposes of this statute, be reckoned as equivalent to a play of full +length." + +As Mr. Palmer remarks "this statute is both elastic and watertight." + +E. H. B. + +[3] See Appendix for complete repertories. + +[4] Announcement has just been made that Miss George will continue her +repertory during the season of 1919-1920. + +[5] They only failed for $3000, however: the rent of a Broadway theater for +a week. + +[6] This statement hardly applies to _The Neighborhood Theater_, or to that +successor to _The Washington Square Players_, _The Theater Guild_, the work +of which at the _Garrick Theater_, New York, during the first part of 1919 +has been excellent in the very highest degree. + + + + +THE PROLOGUE TO THE PORTMANTEAU THEATER + + + + +THE PROLOGUE + + +_As the lights in the theater are lowered the voice of MEMORY is heard as +she passes through the audience to the stage_. + + +MEMORY + +Once upon a time, but not so very long ago, you very grownups believed in +all true things. You believed until you met the Fourteen Doubters who were +so positive in their unbelief that you weakly cast aside the things that +made you happy for the hapless things that they were calling life. You were +afraid or ashamed to persist in your old thoughts, and strong in your folly +you discouraged your little boy, and other people's little boys from the +pastimes they had loved. Yet all through the early days you had been surely +building magnificent cities, and all about you laying out magnificent +gardens, and, with an April pool you had made infinite seas where pirates +fought or mermaids played in coral caves. Then came the Doubters, laughing +and jeering at you, and you let your cities, and gardens, and seas go +floating in the air--unseen, unsung--wonderful cities, and gardens, and +seas, peopled with the realest of people.... So now you, and he, and I are +met at the portals. Pass through them with me. I have something there that +you think is lost. The key is the tiny regret for the real things, the +little regret that sometimes seems to weight your spirit at twilight, and +compress all life into a moment's longing. Come, pass through. You cannot +lose your way. Here are your cities, your gardens, and your April pools. +Come through the portals of once upon a time, but not so very long +ago--today--now! + +_She passes through the soft blue curtains, but unless you are willing to +follow her, turn back now. There are only play-things here._ + + + + +THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE + +A PLAY IN THREE ACTS + + +CHARACTERS + + O-SODE-SAN, an old woman + O-KATSU-SAN + OBAA-SAN + THE GAKI OF KOKORU, an eater of unrest + RIKI, a poet + AOYAGI + + + + +WEEPING WILLOW TREE + + + + +ACT I + + +[_Before the House of Obaa-San. At the right back is a weeping willow tree, +at the left the simple little house of Obaa-San._ + +[_O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San enter._ + +O-SODE-SAN + +Oi!... Oi!... Obaa-San! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Obaa-San!... Grandmother! + +O-SODE-SAN + +She is not there. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Poor Obaa-San. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Why do you always pity Obaa-San? Are her clothes not whole? Has she not her +full store of rice? + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Ay! + +O-SODE-SAN + +Then what more can one want--a full hand, a full belly, and a warm body! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +A full heart, perhaps. + +O-SODE-SAN + +What does Obaa-San know of a heart, silly O-Katsu? She has had no husband +to die and leave her alone. She has had no child to die and leave her arms +empty. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Hai! Hai! She does not know. + +O-SODE-SAN + +She has had no lover to smile upon her and then--pass on. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +But Obaa-San is not happy. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Pss-s! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +She may be lonely because she has never had any one to love or to love her. + +O-SODE-SAN + +How could one love Obaa-San? She is too hideous for love. She would +frighten the children away--and even a drunken lover would laugh in her +ugly face. Obaa-San! The grandmother! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +O-Sode, might we not be too cruel to her? + +O-SODE-SAN + +If we could not laugh at Obaa-San, how then could we laugh? She has been +sent from the dome of the sky for our mirth. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +I do not know! I do not know! Sometimes I think I hear tears in her laugh! + +O-SODE-SAN + +Pss-s! That is no laugh. Obaa-San cackles like an old hen. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +I think she is unhappy now and then--always, perhaps. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Has she not her weeping willow tree--the grandmother? + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Ay. She loves the tree. + +O-SODE-SAN + +The grandmother of the weeping willow tree! It's well for the misshapen, +and the childless, and the loveless to have a tree to love. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +But, O-Sode, the weeping willow tree can not love her. Perhaps even old +Obaa-San longs for love. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Do we not come daily to her to talk to her? And to ask her all about her +weeping willow tree? + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Oi! Obaa-San. + +[_A sigh is heard._ + +O-SODE-SAN + +What was that, O-Katsu? + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Someone sighed--a deep, hard sigh. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Oi! Obaa-San! Grandmother! + +[_The sigh is almost a moan._ + +O-KATSU-SAN + +It seemed to come from the weeping willow tree. + +O-SODE-SAN + +O-Katsu! Perhaps some evil spirit haunts the tree. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Some hideous Gaki! Like the Gaki of Kokoru--the evil ghost that can feed +only on the unrest of humans. Their unhappiness is his food. He has to find +misery in order to live, and win his way back once more to humanity. To +different men he changes his shape at will, and sometimes is invisible. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Quick, Katsu, let us go to the shrine--and pray--and pray. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Ay. There! + +[_They go out. The Gaki appears._ + +THE GAKI + +Why did you sigh? + +THE VOICE OF THE TREE + +O Gaki of Kokoru! My heart hangs within me like the weight of years on +Obaa-San. + +THE GAKI + +Why did you moan? + +THE TREE + +The tree is growing--and it tears my heart. + +THE GAKI + +I live upon your unrest. Feed me! Feed me! + +[_The tree sighs and moans and The Gaki seems transported with joy._ + +THE TREE + +Please! Please! Give me my freedom. + +THE GAKI + +Where then should I feed? Unless I feed on your unhappiness I should cease +to live--and I must live. + +THE TREE + +Someone else, perchance, may suffer in my stead. + +THE GAKI + +I care not where or how I feed. I am in the sixth hell, and if I die in +this shape I must remain in this hell through all the eternities. One like +me must feed his misery by making others miserable. I can not rise through +the other five hells to human life unless I have human misery for my food. + +THE TREE + +Oh, can't you feed on joy--on happiness, on faith? + +THE GAKI + +Faith? Yes, perhaps--but only on perfect faith. If I found perfect +faith--ah, then--I dare not dream.--There is no faith. + +THE TREE + +Do not make me suffer more. Let me enjoy the loveliness of things. + +THE GAKI + +Would you have someone else suffer in your stead? + +THE TREE + +Someone else--someone else-- + +THE GAKI + +Ay--old Obaa-San--she whom they call the grandmother. + +[_The Tree moans._ + +THE GAKI + +She will suffer in your stead. + +THE TREE + +No! No! She loves me! She of all the world loves me! No--not she! + +THE GAKI + +It shall be she! + +THE TREE + +I shall not leave! + +THE GAKI + +You give me better food than I have ever known. You wait! You wait! + +THE TREE + +Here comes Obaa-San! Do not let her suffer for me! + +THE GAKI + +You shall be free--as free as anyone can be--when I have made the misery of +Obaa-San complete. + +THE TREE + +She has never fully known her misery. Her heart is like an iron-bound chest +long-locked, with the key lost. + +THE GAKI + +We shall find the key! We shall find the key! + +THE TREE + +I shall warn her. + +THE GAKI + +Try! + +THE TREE + +Alas! I can not make her hear! I can not tell her anything. + +THE GAKI + +She can not understand you! She can not see me unless I wish! Earth people +never see or hear! + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +[_Obaa-San enters. She is old, very, very old, and withered and misshapen. +There is only laughter in your heart when you look at Obaa-San unless you +see her eyes. Then_-- + +OBAA-SAN + +My tree! My little tree! Why do you sigh? + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +OBAA-SAN + +Sometimes I think I pity you. Yes, dear tree! + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +THE GAKI + +Now I am a traveller. She sees me pleasantly.--Grandmother! + +OBAA-SAN + +Ay, sir! + +THE GAKI + +Which way to Kyushu? + +OBAA-SAN + +You have lost your way. Far, far back beyond the ferry landing at Ishiyama +to your right. That is the way to Kyushu. + +THE GAKI + +Ah, me! + +OBAA-SAN + +You are tired. Will you not sit and rest?--Will you not have some rice? + +THE GAKI + +Oh, no.--Where is your brood, grandmother? + +OBAA-SAN + +I have no brood. I am no grandmother. I am no mother. + +THE GAKI + +What! Are there tears in your voice? + +OBAA-SAN + +Tears! Why should I weep? + +THE GAKI + +I do not know, grandmother! + +OBAA-SAN + +I am no grandmother!--Who sent you here to laugh at me?--O-Sode-San? 'Tis +she who laughs at me, because-- + +THE GAKI + +No one, old woman-- + +OBAA-SAN + +Yes, yes, old woman. That is it. Old woman!--Who are you? I am not wont to +cry my griefs to any one. + +THE GAKI + +Griefs? You have griefs? + +OBAA-SAN + +Ay! Even _I_--she whom they call Obaa-San--have griefs.--Even I! But they +are locked deep within me. No one knows! + +THE GAKI + +Someone must know. + +OBAA-SAN + +I shall tell no one. + +THE GAKI + +Someone must know! + +OBAA-SAN + +You speak like some spirit--and I feel that I must obey. + +THE GAKI + +Someone must know! + +OBAA-SAN + +I shall not speak. Who cares?--What is it I shall do? Tell my story--unlock +my heart--so that O-Sode-San may laugh and laugh and laugh. Is it not +enough that some evil spirit feeds upon my deep unrest? + +THE GAKI + +How can one feed upon your unrest when you lock it in your heart? (_The +voices of O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San are heard calling to Obaa-San_) Here +come some friends of yours. Tell them your tale. + +[_He goes out._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Strange. I feel that I must speak out my heart. + +[_O-Sode-San and O-Katsu-San come in._ + +O-SODE-SAN + +Good morning, grandmother! + +OBAA-SAN (_with a strange wistfulness in her tone_) + +Good morning, O-Sode-San. Good morning, O-Katsu-San. May the bright day +bring you a bright heart. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +And you, Obaa-San. + +O-SODE-SAN + +How is the weeping willow tree, grandmother? + +OBAA-SAN + +It is there--close to me. + +O-SODE-SAN + +And does it speak to you, grandmother-- + +OBAA-SAN + +I am no grandmother! I am no grandmother! I am no mother! O-Sode, can you +not understand? I am no mother.--I am no wife.--There is no one.--I am only +an old woman.--In the spring I see the world turn green and I hear the song +of happy birds and feel the perfumed balmy air upon my cheek--and every +spring that cheek is older and more wrinkled and I have always been alone. +I see the stars on a summer night and listen for the dawn--and there never +has been a strong hand to touch me nor tiny fingers to reach out for me. I +have heard the crisp autumn winds fight the falling leaves and I have known +that long winter days and nights were coming--and I have always been +alone--alone. I have pretended to you--what else could I do? Grandmother! +Grandmother! Every time you speak the name, the emptiness of my life stands +before me like a royal Kakemono all covered with unliving people. + +O-SODE-SAN + +You never seemed to care. + +OBAA-SAN + +Did I not care! Grandmother! Grandmother! Why? Because I loved a weeping +willow tree. Because to me it was real. It was my baby. But no lover ever +came to woo. No words ever came to me.--Think you, O-Sode-San, that the +song of birds in the branches is ease to an empty heart. Think you that the +wind amongst the leaves soothes the mad unrest in here. (_She beats her +breast_) I have no one--no one. I talk to my weeping willow tree--but there +is no answer--no answer, O-Sode-San--only stillness--and yet--sometimes I +think I hear a sigh.--Grandmother! Grandmother! There! Is that enough? I've +bared my heart to you. Go spread the news--I am lonely and old--old.--I +have always been lonely. Go spread the news. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +No, Obaa-San. We shall not spread the news. No one shall know. + +O-SODE-SAN + +But--we pity you. + +OBAA-SAN + +I need no pity.--Now my heart is unlocked. The dread Gaki of Kokoru who +feeds upon unrest can come to me and feed upon my pain. I care not. + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Someone sighs. + +OBAA-SAN + +Yes. It is my tree. Perhaps there, too, someone in deep distress is +imprisoned--as I am imprisoned in this body.--Hai! You do not know. You do +not know! + +O-SODE-SAN + +Obaa-San--we have been hurting. I never knew--I am sorry, Obaa-San. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +You have been lonely, Obaa-San, but you have always been lonely. I know the +having and I know the losing. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Ay. 'Tis better to long for love than to have it--and then lose. Look at +me, whom the villagers call the bitter one. He came to me so long ago.--It +was spring, Obaa-San, and perfume filled the air and birds were singing +and his voice was like the voice from the sky-dome--all clear and +wonderful. Together we saw the cherry trees bloom--_once_: and on a summer +night we saw the wonder of the firefly fete. My heart was young and life +was beautiful. We watched the summer moon--and when the autumn came--Ai! +Ai! Ai! Obaa-San.--I knew a time of love--and oh, the time of hopelessness! +And I shut my heart. I did not see, Obaa-San. + +OBAA-SAN + +You knew his love, O-Sode-San. You touched his hand. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +But what is that? To her--my little girl--I gave all my dreams. I felt her +baby hands in mine and in the night I could reach out to her. I lived for +her. And then, one day--Obaa-San, I had known the joy of motherhood and I +had known the ecstasy of--child--and now--Her little life with me was only +a dream of spring, but still my back is warm with the touch of her +babyhood. The little toys still dance before my eyes. Oh, that was long +ago.--Now all is black. + +OBAA-SAN + +All blackness can never fill a mother's heart.--O-Katsu-San, you have known +the baby's hand in yours. But I am old--and I have never known, can never +know.--I'd go to the lowest hells if once I might but know the touch of my +own child's hand. + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai + +OBAA-SAN + +Just once--for one short day--to fill the empty place in my heart that has +always been empty--and a pain-- + +O-SODE-SAN + +Who is that man, Obaa-San? + +OBAA-SAN + +There? That is a stranger seeking for Kyushu. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +He seems to wish to speak to you. + +OBAA-SAN + +A strange man. 'Twas he who seemed to make me unlock my heart to you. + +O-SODE-SAN + +Then shall we go.--And we'll return, Obaa-San. + +OBAA-SAN + +Grandmother! + +O-KATSU-SAN + +We'll laugh no more. + +[_They leave. Obaa-San turns to the tree. The Gaki enters, strangely +agitated._ + +THE GAKI + +Obaa-San, for so they called you, tell me--did you say you'd go to the +lowest hells if you might know the touch of your own child? + +OBAA-SAN + +Forever--could I but fill this emptiness in my mother-heart. + +THE GAKI + +Would you really pay? + +OBAA-SAN + +Yes, yes. But why do you ask?--Who are you? + +THE GAKI + +I am a stranger bound for Kyushu. + +OBAA-SAN + +Why do you, too, make sport of me? + +THE GAKI + +Go you into your house and come not till I call. + +[_Obaa-San obeys under a strange compulsion._ + +THE TREE + +Hai! Hai! Hai + +THE GAKI + +You can not feed me now. That cry was the wind amongst your branches. Come. +I bid you come to life, to human form. + +THE TREE + +I do not wish to come. + +THE GAKI + +I bid you come! + +[_When he touches the trunk of the tree, Aoyagi steps forth. She is small. +Her little body is swathed in brown and from her arms hang long sleeves +like the branches of the weeping willow. At first she shrinks. Then freedom +takes hold on her and she opens her arms wide._ + +THE GAKI + +You are free. + +AOYAGI + +Free! + +THE GAKI + +As free as one in life. You are bound to the tree as one might be bound to +his body in a dream--but you may wander as one wanders in a dream--free +until the waking--then when the tree suffers, you shall suffer. Though you +be leagues away, you shall suffer.--But first you shall dream.--Now you are +to be the daughter of Obaa-San. + +AOYAGI + +Oi! + +THE GAKI + +Do not call yet.--You are to wed the first young man who passes here and +you are to follow him. + +AOYAGI + +But--Obaa-San? + +THE GAKI + +She shall feed me with her new-made misery. + +AOYAGI + +No--no--she loved me so! + +THE GAKI + +She shall feed me. You will be happy. + +[_He disappears._ + +AOYAGI + +Free! And happy! + +[_The Gaki's voice is heard calling Obaa-San. She comes in and looks about. +At last her old tired eyes see Aoyagi. For a moment they face each other._ + +AOYAGI + +Hai. + +OBAA-SAN + +A dream! + +AOYAGI + +Mother-- + +[_Obaa-San stands mute. She listens--yearning for the word again._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Have you lost your way? + +AOYAGI + +No, mother-- + +[_Obaa-San does not know what to think or do. A strange giddiness seizes on +her and a great light fills her eyes._ + +OBAA-SAN + +How beautiful the name! But I am only Obaa-San. Your mother-- + +[_She shakes her old head sadly._ + +AOYAGI + +Obaa-San, my mother. + +[_Obaa-San lays her hand upon her heart. Then she stretches out her arms._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Obaa-San--your mother--where is my pain? And you--who are you? + +AOYAGI + +I am Aoyagi, mother. + +OBAA-SAN + +You have not lost your way? + +AOYAGI + +I have but just found my way. + +OBAA-SAN + +My pain is stilled. There is no emptiness. It is a dream--a dream of spring +and butterflies--Aoyagi! + +[_She stretches out her arms and silently Aoyagi glides into them--as +though they had always been waiting for her._ + +OBAA-SAN + +I seem never to have known a time when you were not here. + +AOYAGI + +Oh, mother dear, it is now--and now is always, if we will. + +OBAA-SAN + +It seems as though the weeping willow tree had warmed and shown its heart +to me. + +AOYAGI + +I am the Lady of the Weeping Willow tree! + +OBAA-SAN + +I care not who or what you are. You are here--close to my heart and I have +waited always. I know I dream--I know. + +AOYAGI + +How long I've tried to speak to you! + +OBAA-SAN + +How long my heart has yearned for you! + +AOYAGI + +Mother! + +[_The Gaki appears._ + +THE GAKI + +Such happiness. Already she has forgotten the coming of the man. + +OBAA-SAN + +Oh, how I've dreamed of you! When I was very, very young and had my little +doll, I dreamed of you. I used to sing a lullaby and still I sing it in my +heart: + + See, baby, see + The ears of the wolf are long; + Sleep, baby, sleep, + Your father is brave and strong. + +I grew into womanhood and still I dreamed of you. And, dreaming still, I +grew old. And all the world it seemed to me, made sport of my longing and +my loneliness. The people of the village called me grandmother. The +children echoed the grownups' cry and ran from me. Now--Aoyagi--you are +here. Oh, the warmth--the peace. Come let me gather flowers for the house. +Let me-- + +AOYAGI + +Oh, mother, dear. I am so happy here. + +OBAA-SAN (_suddenly becoming the solicitous mother, she handles Aoyagi as +one might handle a doll_) + +Are you--truly?--Are you warm?--You are hungry! + +AOYAGI + +No--I am just happy. + +[_She nestles close to Obaa-San. There is complete contentment._ + +OBAA-SAN + +I shall bring you--a surprise. + +[_She darts into the house. Immediately The Gaki comes in._ + +THE GAKI + +You seem very happy, Aoyagi. And your mother is very happy, too.--And I am +hungry now. + +AOYAGI + +You will not hurt her! Let me go back to the Weeping Willow Tree-- + +THE GAKI + +That would kill her--perhaps. + +AOYAGI + +No--no--I should be near her then--always. + +THE GAKI + +But where would I have my food? Not in your heart, not in hers--I should +starve and I must live. + +AOYAGI + +What then? + +THE GAKI + +See! + +[_He points to the road. Aoyagi looks in that direction as The Gaki +disappears. Riki comes in. Occasionally one may hear a bit of a lullaby +sung in the old cracked voice of Obaa-San_: + + See, baby, see + The ears of the wolf are long; + Sleep, baby, sleep, + Your father is brave and strong. + +_Riki is a poet, young, free, romantic. He faces Aoyagi a little moment as +though a wonderful dragonfly had poised above his reflection in a pool._ + +RIKI + +You are she! + +AOYAGI + +My--who--are--you? + +RIKI + +I am a poet--I have sought everywhere for you. + +AOYAGI + +I am the Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree! + +RIKI + +You are my love. + +AOYAGI + +I am the daughter of Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +I love you so! + +AOYAGI + +Yes--I love you so!--But I love Obaa-San, my mother-- + +RIKI + +Come with me. + +AOYAGI + +But Obaa-San-- + +RIKI + +Come with me. Butterfly, butterfly, alight upon the Willow Tree And if you +rest not well, then fly home to me. See! I make a little verse for you. + +AOYAGI + +But--Obaa-San--is very old and very lonely. + +RIKI + +She is your mother.--She must be glad to let you go. + +AOYAGI + +She does not know you. + +RIKI + +I know you. + +AOYAGI + +Yes--but I can not leave Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +We can not stay with Obaa-San. + +AOYAGI + +Can we not take her with us? + +RIKI + +No--like the Oshidori--we can go only by two and two along the silent +stream--and as Oshidori in silence and in happiness float on and on and +seem to cleave the mirrored sky that lies deep within the dark waters, so +we must go, we two, just you and I, to some silent place where only you and +I may be--and look and look until we see the thousand years of love in each +other's hearts. + +AOYAGI + +Something speaks to me above the pity for poor Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +It is love. + +AOYAGI + +I love Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +This is love beyond love. This is earth and air--sea and sky. + +AOYAGI + +I do not even know your name. + +RIKI + +What does my name matter? I am I--you are you. + +AOYAGI + +I love Obaa-San, my mother.--I feel happy in her arms;--I felt at +peace;--but now I feel that I must go to you.--I am fearful--yet I must +go.--You are-- + +RIKI + +I am Riki. But what can Riki mean that already my eyes have not said? + +AOYAGI + +I feel a strange unrest--that is happiness. + +RIKI + +Come! + +AOYAGI + +First let me speak to Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +Look--out there--a mountain gleaming in the fresh spring air.--Amongst the +trees I know a glade that waits for you and me.--A little stream comes +plashing by and silver fishes leap from pool to pool--dazzling jewels in +the leaf-broken sunlight. Tall bamboo trees planted deep in the father +earth reach up to the sky.--And there the hand of some great god can reach +down to us and feed our happiness-- + +AOYAGI + +Riki--I must go--I feel the strong hand leading me--I feel the happy +pain--I long--I would stay with Obaa-San; but, Riki, I must go.--Yon +mountain gleaming in the sun--the bamboo trees--the silver fishes--you-- + +[_Obaa-San enters carrying an armful of wistaria blossoms. She is radiant. +Then--she sees the lovers--and she understands. The blossoms slip from her +arms._ + +OBAA-SAN + +When do you go? + +AOYAGI + +Obaa-San, my mother--something outside of me calls and I must obey. + +OBAA-SAN + +I understand.--It must be wonderful, my little daughter. + +AOYAGI + +Mother!--This is Riki. + +OBAA-SAN + +Riki!--See that you bring her happiness. + +RIKI + +I could not fail. I have searched for her always. + +OBAA-SAN + +We always search for someone--we humans.--Sometimes we find--sometimes we +wait always. + +AOYAGI + +Riki, I must not go. Obaa-San is my mother--and I am all she has. + +OBAA-SAN + +Yes, Aoyagi, you are all I have and that is why I can let you go. Be +happy-- + +AOYAGI + +But you, my mother. + +OBAA-SAN + +For my sake, be happy. Some day I shall be Obaa-San no more--and what of +you then? Go, my little darling, go with Riki.--Some day, you will return. + +RIKI + +We shall return some day, Obaa-San. + +AOYAGI + +Farewell. + +[_Very simply she steps into Obaa-San's outstretched arms and then, as +though they had been forever empty, Obaa-San stands gazing into space with +her arms outstretched. Aoyagi and Riki go out._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Hai!--Hai! + +[_She lays her hand upon her heart and, looking into space, turns to the +house. There is the empty tree--her empty heart! The Gaki comes in._ + +THE GAKI + +Oi! Obaa-San! + +[_Obaa-San turns mechanically._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Did you not find your way? + +THE GAKI + +I found my way.--But why this unhappiness in your eyes? + +OBAA-SAN + +I am very lonely. I have lived my lifelong dream of spring and butterflies +a single instant--and it is gone. + +[_She turns to go._ + +THE GAKI + +I feed! I feed! + +[_The voices of O-Sode and O-Katsu are heard calling Obaa-San._ + +Here are your friends again. + +[_O-Sode and O-Katsu come in._ + +O-SODE-SAN + +Hai! Obaa-San, a little lady passed and told us you were lonely. + +OBAA-SAN + +I am lonely.--But I have always been lonely. + +O-SODE-SAN + +What has happened? + +[_The Gaki, hidden, has been triumphant. Suddenly he seems to shrivel as if +drawn with rage._ + +OBAA-SAN + +I waited, oh so long--you know.--I opened my arms.--My dream came true.--I +sang my lullaby--to my child.--A lover came;--they have gone. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +She is a-wander in her mind. + +OBAA-SAN + +I opened my arms here--like this.--She stepped into them as though she had +been there always--and now she has gone.--In one short moment I lived my +mother-life. + +O-SODE-SAN + +It was magic! Come, Obaa-San, we'll make some prayers to burn. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Some evil ghost. + +OBAA-SAN + +No! No! Some kindly spirit from the sky-dome came to me.--I have had one +moment of happiness complete.--I dreamed and I have known. Now I shall +dream again--a greater dream--a greater dream. + +[_The old women go into the house._ + +THE GAKI + +What! I can not feed! My Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree is gone! Obaa-San +has built a circle of happiness about her head. Hai! I shall die in this +shape.--I must feed.--Perhaps she tries to trick me.--I shall listen.--Why +does she not weep?--Why do they not wail? + +[_He starts for the house. As he nears it, the voice of Obaa-San is heard +crooning the little lullaby_: + + See, baby, see + The ears of the wolf are long; + Sleep, baby, sleep, + Your father is brave and strong. + +THE GAKI (_defeated, seems beside himself. Suddenly he looks out and sees +the mountain-peak_) I'll find them in the bamboo glade. Perhaps I can make +unhappiness there. Riki and Aoyagi! + + +_The Curtains Close._ + + + + +ACT II + + +_A Bamboo Glade on the Mountain-side._ + +[_The Gaki comes in._ + +THE GAKI + +This is the glade on the mountain side--the glade where Aoyagi and Riki +think to find their happiness. Here must I feed or I shall die in this +shape.--Hai!--They come. + +[_Riki and Aoyagi enter._ + +RIKI + +... and so like every other prince who is a real prince, he charged to the +top of the hill before his men; and they, following him, fell upon the +enemy and victory was theirs. + +AOYAGI + +And then--? + +RIKI + +And then the Princess laid her hand upon her heart. + +AOYAGI + +Is that all? + +RIKI + +Is that all? What more need there be? + +AOYAGI + +Did they not wed and have great happiness? + +RIKI + +You can answer that. + +AOYAGI + +I? I never heard the story before. + +RIKI + +One may always end a story--just right. + +AOYAGI + +Not a weeping willow tree? + +RIKI + +Even a weeping willow tree! + +AOYAGI + +How? + +RIKI + +I'll show you.--Stand right here.--So! I stand here.--Now look at me. + +AOYAGI + +I am looking. + +RIKI + +Place your hand upon your heart. + +AOYAGI + +Ay. + +RIKI + +Now I am the Prince. With sword in hand I come to you. From Kyushu to Koban +I've fought my way to you;--through forest, marsh and mountain path I've +striven for you. Now I am here.--Look at me. + +AOYAGI + +Ah! + +[_With a cry of delight she rushes to his arms._ + +RIKI + +And did they wed? + +AOYAGI + +Ah, love beyond love. + +RIKI + +And did they have great happiness? + +AOYAGI + +Ah! + +[_She nestles close to him._ + +[Illustration: THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE + +ACT III.] + +RIKI + +My little princess! I did not come to you sword in hand; I did not fight my +way from Kyushu to Koban. But I strove for you through forest, marsh and +mountain pass.--Within me throbbed a mighty song that I could not sing. I +saw almost all the world, it seems, and once I heard a voice that seemed to +call to me alone. It was at the ferry of Ishiyama. I followed the +sound--and there she stood all aglow in the morning sunlight. But when I +saw, the song still throbbed within my heart and I could not sing to +her.--Someone else called to me--"Hai! Hai! Hai!" + +AOYAGI + +And what of her--the vision at the ferry of Ishiyama? + +RIKI + +For all I know she may still be standing there in the morning sunlight all +aglow.--I have found you! + +AOYAGI + +And was she--fair? + +RIKI + +Ay--how can I say? Now all the world is fair because I see only you in +earth and sky and everything. + +AOYAGI + +She was aglow in the morning sun. + +RIKI + +How can I say? I heard her voice;--a song was in my heart--a song for +you.--I saw her--the song staid locked in my heart for you. + +AOYAGI + +Riki--Riki-- + +RIKI + +A dream that's true. + +AOYAGI + +I do not understand it all.--Obaa-San--you--this happiness.--I have known +happiness, but not like this.--When I was in the weeping willow +tree--sometimes I was happy and sometimes I was hurt.--Oh, Riki, Riki, this +glade is like the weeping willow tree! Whenever the soft air sways the +leaves, I feel the same sweet joy as when the little breezes played amongst +my branches. The rain--oh, the gentle little rain that cooled me in the hot +summer--the drops that danced from leaf to leaf and felt like smiles upon +my face. Tears! The rain is not like tears, Riki. + +RIKI + +The dew is tears, perhaps. + +AOYAGI + +The dew! It came to me like a cool veil that the morning sun would lift and +little breezes bear away. Then sometimes--the voice, the loneliness of +Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +Look where her home lies. Far down there beyond that stream, see--there is +Kyushu. + +AOYAGI + +Oh, Riki, my Riki, my august lord, why, why can I stay here in happiness +with you when I know that Obaa-San is miserable and alone? + +RIKI + +I can not say? I only know that we are here--you and I--and we are happy. +Two make a world, Aoyagi. Why? How? I do not know. + +AOYAGI + +Can we not send a message to Obaa-San? + +RIKI + +Yes. I shall go down the mountain to the road and tell some passer-by. + +AOYAGI + +And I? + +RIKI + +Sit here and rest--and watch the silver stream at Kyushu. + +AOYAGI + +I shall wait--I shall wait. + +RIKI + +Sayonara. + +AOYAGI + +Sayonara.--Sayonara, my august lord. + +[_Riki goes out. Aoyagi, left alone, feels the air in the old way. She +sways slightly in the breeze, then flutters toward the steps._ + +Oh, Kyushu! The silver stream at Kyushu! + +[_She evidently sees the place where Obaa-San lives. Her eyes dim a bit and +slowly she hums the old lullaby_: + + See, baby, see, + The ears of the wolf are long; + Sleep, baby, sleep, + Thy father is brave and strong. + +Poor Obaa-San! + +[_The Gaki appears._ + +THE GAKI + +I have lost my way. + +[_Aoyagi turns quickly, questioning him almost fearfully with her eyes. +There is something of the Aoyagi of the time when The Gaki bade her leave +Obaa-San._ + +AOYAGI + +Whither are you bound? + +THE GAKI + +I am a stranger bound for Kyushu. + +AOYAGI + +There is Kyushu. (_She indicates the silver stream_) + +THE GAKI + +I am told there is a ferry on the way to Kyushu. + +AOYAGI + +Yes,--at Ishiyama. + +THE GAKI + +At--Ishiyama. + +AOYAGI + +Why do you speak so? + +THE GAKI + +I merely echoed your own words. + +AOYAGI + +I did not say them so terribly. + +THE GAKI + +What is in your heart came into your voice, perhaps. + +AOYAGI + +There is the way to Kyushu. + +THE GAKI + +Down that path? + +AOYAGI + +Yes. Did you not meet Riki? + +THE GAKI + +Riki? + +AOYAGI + +Yes, my august lord. + +THE GAKI + +I passed no one--except--a tall woman who was climbing slowly and singing a +wonderful song--which I had heard once near the ferry at Ishiyama. + +AOYAGI + +But Riki just left me here. You must have passed him on the way. + +THE GAKI + +The by-paths are many and the trysting places are secret--like this. + +AOYAGI + +Riki would take no by-path. My august lord needs no trysting place save +this. + +THE GAKI + +I do not know. I saw no Riki. + +AOYAGI + +My lord needs no trysting place. I am here. He knows I am here--waiting. + +[_The Gaki looks at her._ + +THE GAKI + +Riki? + +AOYAGI + +He knows I am waiting-- + +THE GAKI + +Riki?--Oh, yes the name--I heard it--once--at the ferry at Ishiyama. He has +been there. + +AOYAGI + +Yes. + +THE GAKI + +A poet? + +AOYAGI + +Yes. + +THE GAKI + +He writes wonderful love-songs--they say. + +AOYAGI + +They? + +THE GAKI + +Yes,--the people at Ishiyama. I heard one.--It goes--let me see: + +"Butterfly, butterfly, alight upon the willow tree--" + +AOYAGI + +He did not speak that at Ishiyama. He made that for me. + +THE GAKI + +I heard it, strange to say, at Ishiyama. Perhaps they brought it +from--where did you say? + +AOYAGI + +He made that for me only yesterday. + +THE GAKI + +And I heard it--yesterday--at Ishiyama. There the wonderful woman was +singing. (_She looks at him_) The one I passed just now. + +AOYAGI + +That is a mistake.--You are wrong.--I know my--Ah! what is it here--that +hurts me, tears me, seems to choke me! Riki!--I am all in all to him--he +told me that.--He can not make poems for another. + +THE GAKI + +I should not have told anything.--Forgive me.--I did not know.--To speak +truth is deep in my heart.--I have no gracious subtleties.--I am sorry-- + +AOYAGI + +In the valley there is a mist. I can no longer see the silver stream at +Kyushu.--Who are you?--I am afraid!--Riki--Riki-- + +[_There is no answer._ + +THE GAKI + +He does not seem to hear.--I shall go to meet him. He went this way, you +say? + +AOYAGI + +Yes.--There is a mist in the valley and I can not see the silver stream at +Kyushu-- + +[_She does not see The Gaki who goes in the direction opposite to the one +Aoyagi has indicated._ + +Oh, the little day--the little day--of love beyond love.--Riki--my mother, +Obaa-San.--Yesterday the mountain-top gleamed like the topmost heaven in +the spring sunlight. Today--the valley dies in mist and the mountain-top is +lost in the sky. + +RIKI (_coming in singing_) + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +AOYAGI + +I must go back to Obaa-San, my mother. + +RIKI + +What has happened, Aoyagi? + +AOYAGI + +We came up the mountain path side by side, Riki. Without question I gave +myself to you. + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +AOYAGI + +I gave my love--my love beyond love. I believed. + +RIKI + +Why not believe? + +AOYAGI + +Your first words were--"You are she!" I did not question. And now-- + +RIKI + +Oh, my little love, was I gone too long? + +AOYAGI + +My love knows no time, Riki.--You were gone--how can I say?--ages. + +RIKI + +It was ages, too, to me, Aoyagi. + +AOYAGI (_softening_) + +I watched the silver stream at Kyushu--and I waited. + +RIKI + +What, are those tears? + +AOYAGI + +Nothing, Riki--but I feel so far away--from Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +She can bridge the distance with her heart. A mother can always bridge all +distance with her heart. + +AOYAGI + +Hai! + +RIKI + +Our happiness is all she wants. + +AOYAGI + +Our happiness--(_bitterly_) + +RIKI (_He goes to her. She moves away_) + +Why-- + +AOYAGI + +The silver fishes-- + +RIKI + +What has happened, Aoyagi? + +AOYAGI + +Did you send the message to Obaa-San? + +RIKI + +Yes. + +AOYAGI + +Did you go down the path? + +RIKI + +Yes. + +AOYAGI + +Did you pass a stranger on the way? + +RIKI + +No. + +AOYAGI + +A stranger just came by.--He came up the mountain path. + +RIKI + +I crossed the stream. + +AOYAGI (_She takes a deep breath_) + +You crossed the stream. + +RIKI + +Aoyagi--little sweetheart--I cannot understand.--What do you mean? + +AOYAGI + +Oh, Riki, Riki, I am so alone. Tell me what--why--why-- + +RIKI + +Aoyagi, was I gone too long? Has some demon come to you? + +AOYAGI + +No demon came. You were gone too long. + +RIKI + +I went down the path and crossed the stream to take a shorter way. I met a +stranger-- + +AOYAGI + +Singing? + +RIKI + +Yes--I think she was singing. + +AOYAGI + +_She_ was singing. + +RIKI + +What do you mean, Aoyagi? + +AOYAGI + +Who was she? + +RIKI + +I do not know.--She said she would pass Ishiyama. + +AOYAGI + +Where did you see her? + +RIKI + +Beyond the stream--in a little glade. + +AOYAGI + +Did she sing your song? + +RIKI + +My song? No. + +AOYAGI + +Did she know your songs? + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! What do you want to know? + +AOYAGI + +Did she know your song to me--"Butterfly, butterfly, alight upon the willow +tree"? + +RIKI + +Perhaps.--I made that to you years ago--when you were a dream in my heart. + +AOYAGI + +At Ishiyama? + +RIKI + +Perhaps. + +AOYAGI + +Hai!--Obaa-San, my mother!--Oh, my heart--my heart-- + +RIKI + +Aoyagi--what have I done? Let me comfort you! + +[_He goes to her._ + +AOYAGI + +You leave me nothing in all the world. + +RIKI + +I give you all my world. + +AOYAGI + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +RIKI + +Let me go and call the lady bound for Ishiyama. + +AOYAGI + +Riki!--ah! + +RIKI + +Little Aoyagi--my love--she will be tender with you.--And when your tears +are gone, she'll bear your message on to Obaa-San. + +[_He goes to her, but she draws away. For a moment he is uncertain what to +do;--then--he speaks._ + +I'll bring her back to you. + +AOYAGI + +Riki!--No!--We came up the mountain-path together--side by side.--We--but +now, Riki, we go two ways.--I to Obaa-San--you to-- + +RIKI + +What do you mean? + +AOYAGI + +Go sing your songs at Ishiyama! Go make your poems to the butterfly.--I-- + +RIKI + +I have made songs only for you. + +AOYAGI + +But the songs for me are on every tongue. + +RIKI + +Ay--I am proud of that. + +AOYAGI + +The lady at the ferry at Ishiyama-- + +RIKI + +She learned the song to you! + +AOYAGI + +Ah! + +[_Aoyagi rushes upon him and before she realizes what she is doing, she +strikes him. He stands petrified a moment, then faces her very calmly._ + +RIKI + +I shall find the stranger-woman and send her to you.--I can no longer help +you. + +AOYAGI + +You can no longer help.--Oh--life--oh, love--this too short day-- + +RIKI + +I shall stay near at hand until you return to Obaa-San. + +AOYAGI + +I shall find the path alone. + +RIKI + +I'll send the stranger-woman to you. + +[_Riki goes out._ + +AOYAGI + +Hai! Hai! Hai! I watched the sunrise only yesterday and I trembled with the +wonder of the dew-cooled dawn. Life seemed all peace and--today--I have +known a mother's love and my mother.--I have known a lover's touch--love +beyond love.--I am waking from a dream. The Gaki said I'd waken--I'd be as +free as one in life. Oh, what is this thing they call life? No happiness +complete--a vision of a mountain top--a climbing to the goal--a bamboo +glade--oh, the mist at Kyushu.--When I go back to Obaa-San--I shall love +her so--but oh, the memory of Riki--the mountain gleaming in the sun-- + +[_She starts sadly from the path. The Gaki enters._ + +THE GAKI + +Lady, I am here again. It seemed to me that I must return to you. Something +seemed to call. (_Aoyagi almost collapses_) I feed! I feed! + +AOYAGI + +I can not go! + +THE GAKI + +You seem to suffer. + +AOYAGI + +Oh--I have lost my way in life-- + +THE GAKI + +Lost your way in life? Let me help you. + +AOYAGI + +I have stood on the mountain side and I have seen the green valleys far +below. + +THE GAKI + +Talk to me--as you would to yourself.--I hear but I shall not speak what I +hear. + +AOYAGI + +Riki--no, I can not speak even to myself. Deep in me there is a hurt.--I +can not tell-- + +THE GAKI + +A woman gives all;--the man forgets. + +AOYAGI + +But to Riki--he knows--I brought him my full belief--my all-in-all. + +THE GAKI + +Your perfect faith. + +AOYAGI + +Ay, my perfect faith.--He spoke to me and then I bowed to my august +lord.--I followed him without question.--And he forgets so soon. + +THE GAKI + +Are you sure he has forgotten? + +AOYAGI + +You know--you saw the lady from Ishiyama. + +THE GAKI + +True.--I saw her. + +AOYAGI + +You did not meet him on the path. + +THE GAKI + +True.--I did not meet him on the path. + +AOYAGI + +He crossed the stream. + +THE GAKI + +Perhaps to shorten the way. + +AOYAGI + +He met her in a little glade.--Hai! + +THE GAKI + +What shall you do? + +AOYAGI + +I'll go my way. I'll return to Obaa-San. + +THE GAKI + +I'll guide you down the mountain side.--Come, we'll take the shorter +way--the by-paths--across the stream--through the little glade-- + +AOYAGI (_She looks about once more at the scene of her happiness_) + +Hai! + +THE GAKI + +Come! + +AOYAGI + +No, let us go down the path.--I want to see my footprints--side by side +with his. + +THE GAKI + +Perhaps they're being crushed under the feet of the lady from Ishiyama! + +[_Aoyagi starts a moment as though to fly along the path before the lady +comes.--She sways slowly--and then falls in a pitiful little heap.--The +Gaki takes her in his arms and, utterly triumphant, starts up the +mountain-side._ + +We'll go up--up--sweet Aoyagi, to the snow peak--gleaming in the +sun.--You'll find the mountain-top--not lost in the sky.--Your perfect +faith!--Oh, you silly human--oh, futile love--climb, Aoyagi--climb without +love.--But first we'll make footprints for the lover's eyes.--Blindness +will lead him to the mists at Kyushu.--Jealousy will lead you to the lonely +stars. + +[_He holds Aoyagi so that her feet touch the ground--toward the downward +path. Then with a wild laugh, he turns toward the mountain top. As the +laughter dies, the voice of Riki is heard calling_ + +Aoyagi! Aoyagi!... Oi! + +[_The laugh of The Gaki is heard once more very far away--as he ascends the +mountain with his burden._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi!--Aoyagi! + +[_Riki comes running in. Presently he sees the footprints._ + +Oi!--Aoyagi! + +[_He runs down the path._ + +Aoyagi!--Aoyagi! + +[_Far, very far away The Gaki's laugh is heard._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi!--Aoyagi! + +[_Night has fallen slowly._ + +Aoyagi!--Aoyagi! + + +_The Curtains Close._ + + + + +ACT III + +_Before the House of Obaa-San_ + + +[_It is moonlight. As the curtain opens, Obaa-San is heard singing the +lullaby; from the distance the voice of Riki calls._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi!--Aoyagi!--Aoyagi!--Aoyagi! Oi! + +[_Obaa-San appears in the doorway._ + +Aoyagi! + +OBAA-SAN (_She goes toward the voice_) + +Oi! + +[_Riki enters._ + +RIKI + +Obaa-San! Where is Aoyagi? + +OBAA-SAN + +Where is Aoyagi? + +RIKI + +Is she not here? + +OBAA-SAN + +She is not here. Where--Riki! + +RIKI + +I left her in the bamboo glade--and when I returned she was gone. Her +footprints pointed toward the path--and then were lost. + +OBAA-SAN + +Why did you leave her? + +RIKI + +I left her because she--I left her. + +OBAA-SAN + +I do not know, Riki, what has come to pass--but this I know--I am waiting +for her.--I am waiting for her. Go seek for her--and bring her back to me. + +RIKI + +I shall search for her.--Obaa-San, she-- + +OBAA-SAN + +I care not what she did. I am waiting here for her. + +[_Riki looks at Obaa-San a moment and then understands._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +[_He goes out. Obaa-San turns to the empty house--the empty willow tree._ + +OBAA-SAN + +She will come back to me. + +[_She goes into the house. The Gaki enters._ + +THE GAKI + +Foolish Riki! He searches in the valley. Mad Aoyagi! Alone with the lonely +stars!--Oh, wondrous misery that makes itself. + +[_He sees Obaa-San. She enters from the house._ + +Good-morning, Obaa-San, my friend. + +OBAA-SAN + +Good-morning, traveller. + +THE GAKI + +Why do you rise before the dawn? + +OBAA-SAN + +I could not rest.--Why are you not at Kyushu? + +THE GAKI + +There is a mist at Kyushu--and I feared to lose my way. + +OBAA-SAN + +Did you pass a little lady--Aoyagi, by name--alone-- + +THE GAKI + +It seems--I met a little lady.--She was not happy.--That one? + +OBAA-SAN + +Where? + +THE GAKI + +I am a stranger here--I cannot say. Over there--or over there. + +OBAA-SAN + +She will come to me, perhaps. + +THE GAKI + +Do you know her? + +OBAA-SAN + +She is my daughter,--Aoyagi. + +THE GAKI + +Do you not fear for her? + +OBAA-SAN + +Perhaps.--She will be here soon.--Riki has gone for her. + +THE GAKI + +She must know the way. + +[_The voices of O-Sode and O-Katsu are heard._ + +This has been a restless night for age. (_He disappears. O-Sode-San and +O-Katsu-San enter_) + +OBAA-SAN + +Good-morning, O-Sode-San. Good-morning, O-Katsu-San.--The lily hands of +sleep have passed you by. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +A strange unrest has seized upon me. I think--and think of my little one. +She is glorious in my heart, and words with wings seem to flash before my +eyes like fireflies in the darkness. + +O-SODE-SAN + +I, too, have lived in words. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Obaa-San, is it not wonderful to put a joy or pain in words? + +OBAA-SAN + +Ah, yes--if there is anyone to hear them. All my long, long years before +Aoyagi came to me, my heart sang, and words freighted with my dreams and my +love would come to me--here; and they would die because they found no ear +attuned to them.--Tell me what you thought, O-Sode-San. + +O-SODE-SAN + + The moon in calm restlessness + Shows the water grasses of the River of Heaven, + Swaying in the cool spring air-- + I know the time to meet my lover + Is not too far away. + +OBAA-SAN + +Every one has a poem in his heart, I believe.--What was your poem, O-Katsu? + +O-KATSU-SAN + + Oh, messenger of the other world, + My little one is young; + She can not find her way-- + Do you kindly take my little one + Upon your warm, broad back + Along the twilight path. + +O-SODE-SAN + +And you, Obaa-San,--was it words that kept sleep from your eyes? + +OBAA-SAN + +Ay, bitter dream-words. And for the bitterness I am paying dearly.--Over +and over the words came to me: + + Here lies my daughter's sleeping body + On the mat beside me. + But her soul is far away + Asleep in her lover's arms-- + And I, her white-haired mother, + Hold only an empty shell. + +Oh, I am ashamed--ashamed.--And just now Riki came to me--and told me he +could not find Aoyagi. + +O-KATSU-SAN AND O-SODE-SAN + +Hai! + +O-SODE-SAN + +Can we not search for her? + +OBAA-SAN + +I am waiting here.--She may find her way back.--I would not have her come +to an empty house.--Come--let's go within--and dream that yours and yours +and mine are on their way to us. + +[_The old women go into the house. There is just a moment's silence--then_: + +AOYAGI + +Hai! Hai! Hai! + +[_Aoyagi, utterly forlorn, enters. She looks at the house, turns and sees +the mountains, covers her eyes, and drags herself wearily to the willow +tree. She moans as though winter had fallen upon the world and were +taunting her. The Gaki enters._ + +THE GAKI + +So you have found your way--in life. + +AOYAGI + +Oh, let me go back to my tree! + +THE GAKI + +No, little Aoyagi--you would be happy then. + +AOYAGI + +Let me die! + +THE GAKI + +One can not die. + +AOYAGI + +Hai! + +THE GAKI + +Where have you been? + +AOYAGI + +So far--so far!--I am weary.--When I awoke, I was on the +mountain-top--alone. + +THE GAKI + +Were there no stars? + +AOYAGI + +Oh--the stars, the lonely, lonely stars! I tried to touch them--they seemed +so near.--I found the path--the glade--our footprints--strange people--I am +here. Let me back! Let me back! + +THE GAKI + +And what of Riki? + +AOYAGI + +He does not care. + +THE GAKI + +And what of Obaa-San? + +AOYAGI + +What can I give to Obaa-San now--but misery? Am I never to be free? + +THE GAKI + +What would you do if you were free--climb to the mountain top to see the +lonely stars? + +AOYAGI + +Hai!--Riki!--Obaa-San! + +[_Obaa-San enters. The Gaki disappears._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Was my name spoken in the dawn? + +AOYAGI + +Mother! + +[_With a cry of joy, Obaa-San enfolds Aoyagi in her arms._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Nadeshiko! My little girl! + +AOYAGI + +Where is Riki? + +OBAA-SAN + +He has gone to search for you. + +AOYAGI + +Was he alone? + +OBAA-SAN + +Alone? + +AOYAGI + +Yes. Was there no woman with him--a lady from Ishiyama? + +OBAA-SAN + +A lady from-- + +AOYAGI + +Yes--tall--fair--singing-- + +OBAA-SAN + +He was alone. A lady from Ishiyama--(_Aoyagi shudders with dread_) brought +me a message in the early night-- + +AOYAGI + +It was she--young? + +OBAA-SAN + +No--old. + +AOYAGI + +Had she seen Riki? + +OBAA-SAN + +Yes. On the mountain-side-- + +AOYAGI + +The stranger said she was young and fair. + +OBAA-SAN + +Perhaps the stranger did not see with honest eyes. + +AOYAGI + +He would not lie. + +OBAA-SAN + +Sometimes the eyes and the ears lie. + +AOYAGI + +Ah! + +OBAA-SAN + +And if she had been young and fair? + +AOYAGI + +Riki met her in a glade. + +OBAA-SAN + +Did you see them meet? + +AOYAGI + +No--she was singing. + +OBAA-SAN + +A happy song, perhaps. + +AOYAGI + +She sang the song he made to me. + +OBAA-SAN + +How do you know? + +AOYAGI + +Riki said she knew his song to me. + +OBAA-SAN + +Ah, that is beautiful, that she should love his song to you. + +AOYAGI + +He-- + +OBAA-SAN + +My little darling, I do not know what really happened; but this I know, you +did not speak fairly to Riki or Riki did not speak fairly to you. Almost +every unhappiness comes because we speak too much of our pride and speak +too little of our hearts. + +AOYAGI + +I asked him if he saw her. + +OBAA-SAN + +Why? + +AOYAGI + +A stranger told me-- + +OBAA-SAN + +Was it the stranger you believed before Riki could defend himself? + +AOYAGI + +But, mother, I gave my all in all to Riki. He does not care. + +OBAA-SAN + +Do you know? + +AOYAGI + +I asked Riki if they met? + +OBAA-SAN + +Did he tell you? + +AOYAGI + +He seemed to be proud to tell. + +OBAA-SAN + +Then he was unashamed to tell-- + +AOYAGI + +I asked him questions. + +OBAA-SAN + +But did you ask him the great question in your heart? + +AOYAGI + +Oh-- + +OBAA-SAN + +Did you say, "Riki, my love, you are in all my heart. Am I in all yours?" + +AOYAGI + +He told me that. + +OBAA-SAN + +And did you believe? + +AOYAGI + +Above all the world! + +OBAA-SAN + +Then why doubt him later? + +AOYAGI + +The lady from Ishiyama passed by. + +OBAA-SAN + +My child, a lady bound for Ishiyama passed by! Had she been singing all the +love-songs of all the worlds; had she been fairer than the lotus-flower, +why should you have doubted Riki? + +AOYAGI + +A stranger-- + +OBAA-SAN + +A stranger!--a stranger!--Oh, why--why--why do the eyes of love grow blind +because a stranger speaks? You, Aoyagi, did not see the lady bound for +Ishiyama. You did not hear her song--and yet upon the ears and eyes of a +stranger you would shatter your love.--I saw the lady.--She was +singing.--She was not fair.--If she had been--Oh, my little child--Riki is +Riki, your august lord, the lord of your life. When he comes back, go to +him and speak from your heart. + +AOYAGI + +What shall I say? + +OBAA-SAN + +I need not tell your heart.--It is only your head that can not learn to +speak unprompted.--Do you love Riki? + +AOYAGI + +Ay--so dearly! + +[_The voice of Riki is heard._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +AOYAGI + +He is coming! + +[_Obaa-San, unnoticed, goes into the house. Riki enters._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +[_When he sees she is safe, he drops suddenly. She goes to him._ + +AOYAGI + +Riki, my august lord, listen to my heart.--Forget my anger.--Tell me once +again that you love me.--I'll believe. + +RIKI + +You know--I have always loved you.--When you were a song in my heart, I +loved you so! And now-- + +AOYAGI + +Oh, Riki, can we ever forget the blow I struck? + +RIKI + +That was yesterday--see, this is today: the dawn has spread across the sky. +What shall we do? Look back upon the bitterness of yesterday, or try to see +the fears of tomorrow, or live in the gladness of today? + +AOYAGI + +The Gaki of Kokoru is here at the tree. He will not let us live in +happiness. He let me go with you because he meant to feed upon the misery +of poor Obaa-San. + +RIKI + +He has not come upon us yet. We are struggling against tomorrow. This is +the dawning of today. + +AOYAGI + +Then shall we live--today. + +[_Obaa-San enters from the house._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Come, Aoyagi; come, Riki. We have found happiness at our door. Within there +is rice and tea. Come. + +[_They go into the house. The Gaki enters._ + +[Illustration: THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE + +ACT III.] + +THE GAKI + +There is love!--Now what shall I do for misery? Old Obaa-San remembers +happiness. She has taught O-Katsu and O-Sode to remember happiness. The +lovers are reunited;--now they understand.--And I--I, ah, I must die in +this dread shape and stay in this hell through all the eternities unless I +bring new misery to them. What can I do? (_He turns to see the tree_) Ah--I +shall kill the tree--slowly--slowly--and I'll feed upon them all. Aoyagi is +bound to the tree as one is bound to his body in a dream.--I'll kill the +tree. + +[_He draws his short sword and smites the tree. There is a cry from the +house and Aoyagi enters quickly, followed by Riki, Obaa-San, O-Katsu-San, +and O-Sode-San. Aoyagi holds her heart._ + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! (_She droops in his arms. Obaa-San lays her hand upon her dear +child's head. O-Katsu-San understands. The Gaki in triumph smiles again. +Aoyagi cries out and shudders as she clings to Riki_) Oh, whatever power +gave strength to me and led me to my love, give me the chance to save my +love. + +AOYAGI + +The tree!--The tree! + +[_The Gaki smites again._ + +RIKI + +The Gaki of Kokoru! Ay, I know! I know! I fight a fear, Obaa-San. Hold +Aoyagi fast--with all your love.--I shall find the Gaki of Kokoru! (_The +Gaki smites the tree again and again, and at each stroke Aoyagi fails more +and more until she finally crumples in a heap among the three old women_) +All strength! All faith to me! Into my hands give the power to break the +bitterest hell asunder! Into my eyes put light that I may see the cowardly +fears that infest our way.--Gaki! Gaki! where are you?--I pass about you +and in my heart I carry fearlessness and faith.--Upon your wickedness I +hurl belief.--Ah, now, I see you. + +THE GAKI + +Let me go! Let me go! + +RIKI + +You shall bring misery into no more hearts! + +THE GAKI + +Ah, pity me! Let me go! I must feed or I shall die! + +RIKI + +You shall feed no more! + +THE GAKI + +Do not let me die in this sixth hell! Do not let me die! Once I was +human--like you and you. I came into this hell because I was bitter in +life.--I made misery for others.--I put mischief in their minds.-- + +RIKI (_leaping upon him_) + +You shall make no more misery. + +THE GAKI + +Let me feed! Let me live! I can not die thus. + +RIKI (_throttling him_) + +Dread demon, the end has come! + +THE GAKI + +Please--please--hear me. + +RIKI + +Nay, you have made your last horror in our lives. + +OBAA-SAN + +Riki! Hear him--hear him.--We know not what we do, perhaps. + +RIKI + +Then speak. + +THE GAKI + +Let me go! Do you think it did not punish me to see your misery, to bring +misery upon you? That is what these hells are. In life we can not always +see what wretchedness we make; in the hells we see and know and understand, +but we can not escape our evil until we've sucked the bitterness, the +horror to the blackest end. Oh--five hells lie between me and human life. +In each I may perchance forget the lesson learned before. Let me live! Let +me live!--I can not fight your faith!--Let me live! + +RIKI + +What further harm will you do? + +THE GAKI + +I cannot help myself. I must live on you.--You are young-- + +[_He tears himself from Riki and once more rushes to the tree. Aoyagi +writhes a moment in agony. Riki leaps upon The Gaki, throttling him once +more. The struggle is terrific._ + +RIKI + +Die! + +THE GAKI + +Let me go! Let me live!--I promise anything--I-- + +RIKI + +Too late!--You shall harm no more! + +[_With one supreme effort, The Gaki draws himself to his full height and +seems about to crush Riki. He leaps upon the prostrate Aoyagi and flings +her body high above his head. Riki starts for him._ + +THE GAKI + +I shall live! I shall live! + +RIKI + +Aoyagi! + +THE GAKI + +Come not near me, Riki, or I shall crush her at your feet. I _shall_ live! + +[_He laughs the hideous laugh of triumph which rang out on the mountain +side yesterday._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Give her back to us! Feed on me! + +THE GAKI + +In your heart there is only hope and beautiful memory. Old fool, I can not +feed on you.--But now in my arms I hold the precious gift by which I shall +pass from hell to hell. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +Take me! + +THE GAKI + +Silly old woman, you, too, like Obaa-San, can not feed me. Age learns to +grasp at bubbles and pretend that they are stars. + +O-KATSU-SAN + +But I shall dream of my little girl. + +THE GAKI + +Ay, dream of her and have tender memories that are not pain. + +O-SODE-SAN + +I shall think of him and long for him, my lover. + +THE GAKI + +Ay, and in the memory of the firefly fete you'll make a poem that will +leave you all melting-like and holy--then where shall I feed? + +RIKI + +Obaa-San, are you content? I'll let her die at my own hand before I'll let +him live. + +[_He draws his dagger and leaps toward The Gaki; but old Obaa-San is too +swift for him. She catches his hand._ + +OBAA-SAN + +Riki! Would you kill the evil by killing the joy of us all? + +RIKI + +But the joy--my little Aoyagi--can not live so. See-- + +OBAA-SAN + +O Gaki of Kokoru--I stand before you, no longer a suppliant. I am old and +in my years I have known all the wanting, all the hopelessness one can know +in life. But in your evil way, you brought to me a moment of happiness +yesterday and in that moment I saw the beauty that I had always believed +must be and yet that I had never known. In your evil arms you hold the +treasure of my life--you hold the songs that filled the heart of Riki. But +you do not feed, oh, Gaki of Kokoru. You can not feed. Oh, Gaki, what is +this sixth hell of yours?--Who made it? Some man who was afraid of the joy +of life;--it was too beautiful for his belief. Misery makes itself: so +happiness makes itself. You stand before us, holding the darling of our +dreams, but there is no misery so great as yours. See! I stand before +you--unafraid--and in my heart lies happiness.--Aoyagi rested in my arms +and my breast is warm and there is a glory where her dear head lay. In my +life--if you take her from me--there will be an emptiness.--There will be +long silences in the days to come; but my breast will still be warm with +her touch and my ears will still hear the sweet words you cannot unsay--the +lullaby I sang.--Oh, Gaki--it has been sung to her.--The climbing to the +mountain gleaming in the sun--the glade where love found the perfect +mystery--that cannot be undone whether we live or die.--Love that has been +can never be undone. + +[_The Gaki looks from one to the other, but finds only that splendid +happiness that is almost pain. He loosens his hold upon Aoyagi and turns to +Riki with her._ + +THE GAKI + +She is yours!--I have met perfect faith.--Five hells lie before me--but I +have met a perfect faith.--You cannot know what wonder I am knowing. From +the sixth hell I have seen a perfect faith.--I am content to die in this +shape. Strike, Riki! + +RIKI + +I have my love. + +THE GAKI + +But a peace has come upon me, a peace that I have never known.--I seem to +be on wings--afloat in the sky.--Stars and suns swing gently by--and cool +clouds brush my brow.--Five hells lie before me.--Can it be, in each I +shall find peace like this?--(_He falls on his knees_) Now a fire rages +deep in me--a pain--I'm torn.--Oh, Obaa-San, I die--I die.--Come to +me--touch me--let me feel your gentle hands.--So! So!--I have never known +such gentleness.--Oh, I am cold--cold! Hold me-- + +[_He rises--sways--and falls. It is full day. The Gaki rises wonderfully._ + +Obaa-San--I see--I see.--The hells were made by some man afraid of the joy +of life.--It was too beautiful for his belief.--Riki--Aoyagi, there is the +mountain gleaming in the morning light.--Go--see your footprints side by +side.--A Gaki's feet trod upon them, but left no mark--and they are there +side by side.--O-Sode-San, I look across the River of Heaven;--there stands +your lover waiting for you--an empty boat is here to bear you to +him.--O-Katsu-San,--the messenger of the other world bears your little one +upon his broad, warm back.--They are smiling, O-Katsu-San--Obaa-San-- + +[_He points to Riki and Aoyagi. Obaa-San goes to them and lays her hands +upon them._ + +OBAA-SAN + +My little girl!--my little boy!--Today the sun is very bright. + + +_The Curtains Close._ + + + + +THE VERY NAKED BOY + +AN INTERLUDE BEFORE THE CURTAIN + + +CHARACTERS + + SHE + HE + BROTHER + +_The scene is half way to a proposal._ + +_A hallway with a heavily-curtained doorway in the centre. Right of this +are two chairs with a tabouret between them. Right and Left are curtained +arches._ + +_She enters quickly, crossing to the chairs._ + +HE (_following breathlessly and almost colliding with her as she stops_) + +Genevieve! + +SHE (_with a calmness strangely at variance with her entrance_) + +Well? + +HE + +Why did you-- + +SHE + +I didn't. + +HE + +I beg your pardon, you may not have known it, but you did. + +SHE + +I didn't. + +HE + +If you'll only say you didn't mean it. + +SHE + +I didn't _do_ it. + +HE + +Now, Genevieve, you know-- + +SHE + +I didn't. + +HE + +Well, why did you--? + +SHE + +_I didn't do it!_ + +HE (_meltingly but without humor or subtlety_) + +Well, if you didn't do it, _dear_-- + +[_She is adamant._ + +Why did you run away the moment I came up to you? + +SHE + +I didn't run away-- + +[_He looks at her quizzically._ + +I just _came_ out here. + +HE (_hoping it isn't true_) + +But you seemed to be trying to avoid me. + +SHE (_with sphinx-like indifference_) + +Why should I avoid you? + +HE + +Genevieve! You make it impossible for me to talk to you.... I'll apologise +if it will help. + +SHE + +Why should you apologise? + +HE + +Perhaps I've misconstrued your meaning. + +SHE + +I didn't mean _anything_-- + +[_He smiles pleasantly with more hope than discretion._ + +--because I didn't do it. + +HE + +Now, Genevieve, I saw you do it. + +SHE + +You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Gordon, from further discussion. + +[_She seats herself, fully prepared for all the discussion she can force +from him._ + +HE + +But, Genevieve-- + +[_He seats himself._ + +SHE + +I didn't do it--and besides if I _did_ what difference does it make? I'm +free white and twenty-one. + +HE (_with a frail attempt at humor_) + +How old did you say? + +SHE + +I said I was free white. + +HE + +But, Genevieve, you must admit that-- + +SHE + +Mr. Gordon! + +HE + +_Please_ call me Henry. (_In his emotion he pronounces it Hennery_) + +SHE + +I don't see why I should. + +HE + +You did last night. + +SHE + +That was different. You were Dr. Jekyll last night. + +HE + +Oh, Genevieve-- + +SHE + +You're showing your true colors tonight. + +HE (_appealingly_) + +I'm--sorry-- + +SHE + +You're a tyrant. + +HE + +I don't mean to be. I think you're wo-- + +SHE + +Now don't be personal. I'm not interested in your thoughts. + +HE + +But, Genevieve, won't you tell me why you did it? + +SHE + +I did it because--I've told you often enough I _didn't_ do it. + +HE (_bitterly_) + +Joe-- + +SHE + +Joe--what? + +HE + +Joe squeezed your hand. + +SHE + +Well, it's my hand, and besides I don't see why I should be +cross-questioned by you. + +HE + +You know I'm-- + +[_He leans toward her and she moves away._ + +SHE + +You're what? + +HE + +I'm crazy about you. + +SHE + +Please, Mr. Gordon! + +HE + +Call me Henry! Just once. + +SHE + +I don't see why I should. + +HE + +Please, Genevieve. + +SHE + +Now don't be silly! + +HE + +Oh, Genevieve, if you only knew how it hurt me when you did it! + +SHE + +_Did_ it hurt you? + +HE + +I could have killed Joe--gladly. + +SHE + +Honest! + +HE + +You know--you must know! + +SHE + +You certainly are calm about it. + +HE (_in the most absurd position that hopeless love can twist a man into_) + +What can I do? I can't be ridiculous. + +SHE + +Did you really see us? + +HE + +Yes, I saw you. + +SHE + +You seemed terribly tied up with Ethel. + +HE + +I had to sit by her. + +SHE + +I don't see why. + +HE + +I didn't have any place else to go. + +SHE + +I knew you were looking. + +HE + +Then why did you do it? + +SHE + +Don't ask me why. I loathe why. + +HE + +But oh, Genevieve, I love you so! + +[_He grasps her hand, not too violently. She gasps slightly, smiles +pleasantly and becomes stern._ + +SHE (_encouragingly_) + +Please, let go of my hand. + +[_He does so. She looks at him in mingled wonder and chagrin._ + +HE + +Genevieve, isn't there any chance for me? + +SHE + +I've never thought of such a thing. What do you mean! + +HE + +I mean I love you. + +SHE + +... Yes? + +HE (_taking her scarf in his hand_) + +Aren't you interested? + +SHE + +Why, really, Mr. Gordon, you ask such strange questions. + +HE + +Oh, Genevieve--Genevieve-- + +[_He kisses the scarf gently._ + +SHE [_looking at him in wonder, disappointment and delight._ + +Don't be silly. + +HE + +When a man's in love he always does silly things. + +SHE + +Always? + +HE + +Oh, Genevieve-- + +[_He reaches for her hand reverently and this time she seems content to let +matters rest._ + +SHE (_making conversation_) + +I have the next dance with-- + +[_She racks her memory._ + +HE + +Joe, I suppose. + +[_He rises and crosses to the far side of the centre arch._ + +SHE (_drawing her scarf about her and brushing against him as she passes._) + +Excuse me, please. + +HE (_torrentially_) + +You shall not go. You _shall_ listen to me. You have no right to treat me +as a plaything when I love you so! I love you so! I love you so! I think of +you all day long, I lie awake at night wondering what stars are looking +upon you and I find myself envying them--every one of them. + +[_She tries to speak, but he presses her head against his shoulder._ + +I won't listen. You must hear me out. I've waited days and days and days +for this chance to speak to you, and you've trailed me about +like--like--like a poodle. I'm tired of it because I love you so. + +[_She tries to speak again; but succeeds only in mussing her hair._ + +HE + +I want you to marry me, and marry me you shall if I have to carry you away +with me. Oh, Genevieve, my darling Genevieve, just know that for this +moment I am almost completely happy. You are close to me and I do not feel +any struggle against me. Oh, if you will only listen to me, I do not mean +to be brutal. I have torn your dress. I have mussed your precious hair. +But I love you so! I love you so! + +SHE + +Oh, Henry--Henry--You are so wonderful! + +[_They embrace one long moment when an arm comes out between the curtains +and tugs at his coat._ + +_He lets go of her as though he had been shot, turns and sees the naked arm +and the top of the Boy's head._ + +BOY (_whispering_) + +Get her out of here! + +SHE + +Oh, Henry, Henry, have I been cruel to you? + +HE (_constrained_) + +We'd better go. + +SHE (_looks questioningly at him_) + +Please let's stay here. + +[_He presses her head against his breast and looks surreptitiously at the +curtains._ + +_The Boy makes as though to get out._ + +_He starts violently--shoves the Boy back._ + +SHE + +I saw you first--do you remember--at Poughkeepsie. + +HE + +Yes, yes-- + +SHE + +I think--I liked you then.... But I never thought you'd be so wonderful. + +HE + +Let's go (_whispering_). Darling, let's go. + +[Illustration: THE VERY NAKED BOY] + +SHE + +No, I want to stay here. I love this nook. + +[_He laughs nervously as she crosses to the curtains._ + +I should love to fill it full of great tall lilies. + +[_By this time she has become lyric and swept her arms against the +curtains: with a cry, rushing to him for protection._ + +Henry, there's a man behind those curtains! + +HE + +I think we'd better go. + +SHE + +Oh, Henry, you're not going to leave him here. + +HE + +We'd better. + +BOY [_poking his head and a naked arm through the curtains._ + +Yes, you'd better, because I'm going to get out of here. + +SHE + +_Bob!_ You get your clothes on! + +BOY + +I told Mr. Gordon to get my clothes. + +SHE + +Mr. Gordon-- + +BOY + +Call him Henry--just once--please, Genevieve. + +HE (_stiffly_) + +I'll get your clothes. Where are they? + +BOY + +In my room. + +HE + +What do you want? + +BOY + +Everything. + +SHE (_straightening up_) + +Don't be common, Robert. + +[_He starts for the door._ + +HE + +No, I'm not going. + +SHE + +Hen--Mr. Gordon!... Very well. I'll go! + +HE + +No, you won't go either! + +SHE + +Please! + +BOY + +Well, I'll go. + +[_Boy moves as though to part the curtains. She screams a stifled little +scream and both he and she rush to the curtains to hold them together._ + +SHE + +Oh, Bob, if you won't get out I'll do anything for you. + +BOY + +Well, I'm cold. + +SHE + +Mr. Gordon, please go. + +HE + +I won't go! + +SHE + +You are very strange, indeed.... I'll go! + +[_She nears the door--Stops._ + +SHE + +Never mind. + +BOY + +Oh, Henry, it's Ethel. + +HE + +Bob, won't you be a good sport? We'll turn our backs. + +BOY + +But will everybody else turn their back? + +HE + +Old man, can't you see how it is? We're--we're going to be engaged--and +Ethel is out there--and--and--well-- + +BOY + +Joe's out there, too. + +HE + +Well, yes. + +SHE + +Bob, I shall tell Father on you. + +[_She starts._ + +BOY + +All right, go ahead. I'll tell Ethel. + +SHE + +Just wait. + +BOY + +I'll get out of here! + +[_Again the two rush precipitately to hold the Boy in place._ + +HE + +Bob, be a man! You are childish and common. You are old enough to know +better and I think it's an outrage for you to subject your sister to this +fright. We can't go out of here just now--and you're making it very +embarrassing for us. + +SHE + +Mr. Gordon--there's a cape in that closet. Will you get it for Bob.... He +says he's cold. + +[_He goes to the closet._ + +SHE + +Bob, I'll get even with you. You ought to be ashamed. I'm humiliated. + +BOY + +Why--Sis? + +SHE + +Imagine my being with a gentleman and having a very naked boy pop into the +conversation. + +[_He returns with the cape._ + +HE + +Here's the cape. + +[_He tosses it over the Boy's head and suddenly leans over and kisses her._ + +BOY + +Why don't you smother me! + +[_Boy begins to emerge._ + +SHE + +Bob, be careful. + +[_He and She turn away._ + +_The Boy rises and as he does so the cloak falls about him until, when he +steps out of the curtains, he discloses trousers and shoes._ + +BOY + +I can't go through the hall looking like this. + +SHE + +You must. + +HE (_turning_) + +Go away, Bob. Your sister is very nervous. + +[_He sees the boy fairly well clothed. He gasps._ + +HE + +Why-- + +SHE + +Bob-- + +[_Turning she sees the boy fairly well clothed._ + +I thought--How did you--Why didn't you--What were you doing in there? + +BOY + +Father was going to get strict and keep me off the water tonight and just +as I came down here to get my sweater I heard him coming to the coat room +so I jumped behind the curtains and let him pass and then Joe and Ethel +came in and I couldn't let them see me this way. And then somebody else +came and then you came in--well, I got cold. + +HE (_looking out_) + +Run on now, Bob, the hall is clear. + +[_Boy starts._ + +BOY + +What was it you did, Sis? + +SHE + +I didn't do it. + +BOY + +Why didn't you do it? + +SHE + +I didn't do anything. + +BOY + +He said Joe squeezed your hand. + +SHE + +Absurd! + +BOY + +Well, I hope not, because he and Ethel got engaged in here too! + +[_He and She look fondly at each other and He murmurs_, "Genevieve" _as he +reaches out for her_. + +_The Boy begins to sing, "Oh, Genevieve, Sweet Genevieve," and they become +aware of him, turning upon him and pursuing him with a warning cry of_ +"Bob." + + +_The End_ + + + + +JONATHAN MAKES A WISH + +A PLAY IN THREE ACTS + + +CHARACTERS + + AUNT LETITIA + SUSAN SAMPLE + UNCLE NATHANIEL + UNCLE JOHN + JONATHAN + MLLE. PERRAULT + HANK + ALBERT PEET + MARY + JOHN III + + + + +ACT I + +JONATHAN MAKES A FRIEND + + +[_The scene represents the lumber room in the carriage house on John Clay's +suburban estate. The room is crowded with old trunks, paintings, barrels, +boxes, chests, furniture showing long residence during slow epochs of +changing taste. Everything is in good order and carefully labelled. At the +right of the room is a door opening onto the stairs which lead to the +ground floor. A small window is set high in the peak of the gabled end up +centre. At the left a chimney comes through the floor and cuts into the +roof as though it had been added by Victorian standards of taste for +exterior beautification. An open stove intrudes its pipe into the chimney. +The single indication of the life of today having touched the place is the +studied arrangement of an old rosewood square grand piano. The keyboard is +uncovered. On the top is a tiny theatre--a model masked and touched with +mystery, according to early adolescent standards. Two benches stand in +front of the piano, and the piano stool is meticulously set in place. A +flamboyant placard leaning against the music rack announces:_ + + TODAY + + ZENOBIA + + A tragedy in ten acts + by + Alexander Jefferson, Sr. + +_The light in the room is dim, although it is quite bright out of doors. +There are two low windows which are heavily barred. The little theatre is +so arranged that when the manipulator stands on the box to work it, his +head can be seen over the masking._ + + * * * * * + +_The curtain rises disclosing an empty room. Presently laborious steps are +heard on the stairs and a key is turned in the lock. Then Aunt Letitia +enters followed by Susan Sample. Aunt Letitia is a motherly old woman who +has been in the Clay home for many years. She may have preferences, but +like the buildings on the estate, she stays where she is. Susan Sample is a +tall, slender girl of fourteen with a very gentle manner and a way of +looking at people that indicates a receptivity rarely met in one so old. +Letitia goes to one of the trunks marked E R in large white letters and +unlocks it._ + +LETITIA + +Here they are, my dear. Help me with the hasps. + +SUSAN + +What does E. R. really stand for, Mis' Letitia? + +LETITIA + +E. R.... That's a secret, Susan, that little girls aren't supposed to +know. + +SUSAN + +I won't tell. + +LETITIA + +But what good would that do, my sweet? Please open the windows. + +SUSAN (_opening the window and returning to her question_) + +No one would know you told me. + +LETITIA + +I would know. Yes, I would know that I had told somebody else's secret. + +SUSAN + +Whose secret is it? Please. + +LETITIA + +I've been living in this house for thirty-five years, Susan, and I've known +the secrets of all the boys and girls from time to time. + +SUSAN + +You know mine, too. + +LETITIA + +And I've never told one of them, either. + +SUSAN + +Does old Mr. John ever have secrets? + +LETITIA + +_Old_ Mr. John! For shame!... Of course he has secrets. + +SUSAN + +I wish I knew some of his, Mis' Letitia. + +LETITIA + +My dear, you never will know them. John is very quiet. + +SUSAN + +Who in the family didn't have any secrets at all? + +LETITIA + +Oh, they all had secrets when they were young. Nathaniel had _fewer_ than +any of them and... + +[_Her words are lost tenderly in a memory._ + +SUSAN + +Why hasn't he ever come back home? + +LETITIA (_as she busies herself with the contents of the trunk_) + +That is his secret, Susan, and we mustn't ask too many questions. Nathaniel +is coming today. I won't ask any questions.... He was a fine young man. +Yes, he's coming back today, my dear. He was the baby of the family. + +SUSAN + +How old is he now? + +LETITIA + +You little chatterbox! Between you and Jonathan I have to fight to keep +anybody's secrets. + +SUSAN + +Does Jonathan ask many questions? + +LETITIA + +When we're alone he does. He's just like his Uncle Nathaniel. God bless +him! + +SUSAN (_seeing a costume in the trunk_) + +Oh, isn't that just wonderful! + +LETITIA (_holding the costume up for Susan to see_) + +_That_ is what you can wear in the pageant, my dear Susan. + +SUSAN (_taking the costume_) + +Oh! Oh! Oh!... I wish I knew whose it was. + +LETITIA + +Would that make it any prettier? + +SUSAN + +No, but I'd like to know just the same.... Was it E. R.'s? + +[_A cry is heard outside_, "Aunt Letty! Aunt Letty!" + +LETITIA + +Oh, Susan, it's Nathaniel! It's my boy. Here I am, dear. + +[_She has an armful of costumes which she drops nervously._ + +SUSAN + +Mis' Letitia, I believe you love him best of all! + +LETITIA + +No, I don't, but I always understood him, I think. + +[_The voice below calls again_, "Where are you?" + +Come up here, my boy. Come up to the lumber room. + +[_Steps are heard on the stairs, young eager steps, and Nathaniel Clay +bursts into the room. He is an eternally young man of thirty-five, who has +touched the dregs and the heights of the world and remained himself._ + +NATHANIEL [_taking Letitia in his arms, then holding her from him as he +inspects her._ + +Aunt Letty! Not a day older.... But oh, so wise. + +LETITIA + +Nathaniel, my boy, my darling, darling boy. + +NATHANIEL + +Now, now. Don't cry. + +LETITIA + +My boy, my boy. My splendid boy. + +[_Susan has forgotten her costume in her admiration for Nathaniel. She puts +it down on the bench in front of the piano._ + +NATHANIEL + +And this is-- + +LETITIA + +This is Susan Sample. + +NATHANIEL + +Not-- + +LETITIA + +Yes, time has been flying, Nathaniel. This young lady is Mary Sample's +daughter. + +NATHANIEL + +How do you do? I can't believe it. You were only a little pink cherub up +there in the sky when I ran-- + +LETITIA (_hurriedly interrupting him_) + +Yes, Susan was born three years after you went away. + +NATHANIEL + +Oh!... And, Aunt Letitia, you've opened Emily's trunk! + +LETITIA + +Yes, Susan is going to be in a pageant. + +SUSAN + +Who was Emily? + +NATHANIEL + +She was-- + +LETITIA + +Nathaniel dear, you must not satisfy her curiosity. + +(_To Susan_) + +You go find Jonathan, dear, and tell him that his uncle is here. + +(_To Nathaniel_) + +I'll put these things away, and we'll go into the house. + +SUSAN (_reluctantly_) + +Good-bye, Mr. Clay. + +NATHANIEL + +Good-bye, Susan. You'll come back, won't you? + +SUSAN + +Oh, yes. Good-bye. + +NATHANIEL + +Good-bye. + +[_Susan goes out._ + +LETITIA + +She hates to go. She's never seen anyone just like you: and I have only +seen one. + +NATHANIEL + +Who's Jonathan? + +LETITIA + +He's the one.... He's Emily's boy. + +NATHANIEL + +You mean Emily-- + +LETITIA + +No, no, my dear. Emily was married, left the stage. She wasn't happy. The +boy was her only comfort. + +NATHANIEL + +He's my nephew. Why, I'm Uncle Nathaniel. Oh, Aunt Letty, I'm getting to be +an old man! + +LETITIA + +Nathaniel, Jonathan doesn't know about his mother. I sent Susan away +because I didn't want her to associate these things with Jonathan's +mother. + +NATHANIEL + +My God, Emily didn't do anything wrong. + +LETITIA + +Well, she was an actress. + +NATHANIEL + +And a good one, too. + +LETITIA + +Yes, yes, dear. All that has been talked over many times, but John is the +head of the family and he doesn't approve of the stage. + +NATHANIEL + +So! John is still himself. + +LETITIA + +John is austere, Nathaniel. He is a Clay through and through and he holds +to the traditions of the family. + +NATHANIEL + +I remember the traditions, Aunt Letitia. + +LETITIA + +I never oppose John. He feels that he is right. But it _is_ very hard +sometimes to live up to his rules. + +NATHANIEL + +Has he rules? + +LETITIA + +Well, he has ideas, dear--much like your father's. We might call them +rules. + +NATHANIEL + +Where is Emily? + +LETITIA + +Two years ago, Nathaniel. + +[_There is a moment's silence._ + +NATHANIEL + +Did she ever go back to the stage? + +LETITIA + +No. John forbade it. + +NATHANIEL + +And John is still forbidding. + +LETITIA + +John is the head of the family. + +NATHANIEL + +So.... The Clay family is still an absolute monarchy. + +LETITIA + +Nathaniel, dear, will you promise me-- + +NATHANIEL (_with a smile_) + +I'll try. + +LETITIA + +Will you promise not to antagonize John? + +NATHANIEL + +Will John antagonize _me_? I came back to see my home--to see you, my dear +aunt. But I am a grown man now. + +LETITIA + +Won't you try to be patient? It will be pleasanter for me. And I have +waited so long to see you, Nathaniel. There are seventeen very, very long +years for us to talk about. Let John have his way. + +NATHANIEL + +Well, I'll try for a few days. But I give you warning, my ideas have been +settling during the past few years, too. + +LETITIA + +Remember, he is used to being obeyed just as your father was. + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, I remember that, dear Aunt; but John isn't my father. He is just a +brother to whom fate gave a fifteen years' start by birth. + +[_As a voice calls_, "Nathaniel, are you up there?" _Nathaniel looks at +Letitia._ + +NATHANIEL + +His voice is just the same. (_Calling_) Yes, John, I am up here. + +[_The antagonism between the two brothers is apparent immediately._ + +_John Clay enters. He is an austere, pompous man of fifty who has the +softness of the tithe-collector and the hardness of the tax-collector. He +speaks with an adamantine finality which is destined to rude shattering._ + +JOHN + +How do you do, Nathaniel? + +NATHANIEL + +I am very well, I thank you, John. How are you? + +[_They shake hands perfunctorily._ + +JOHN + +You arrived ahead of time. + +NATHANIEL + +Yes. + +JOHN + +We haven't met for seventeen years. + +NATHANIEL + +No. I've been away, John. + +JOHN + +Where have you been? + +NATHANIEL + +I shall be here for two weeks, John, and if I should tell you all about +myself today, I should have nothing to talk about tomorrow. + +JOHN (_severely_) + +You haven't changed, Nathaniel. You are still frivolous. + +NATHANIEL + +I shall be serious when I am your age, brother. + +JOHN + +I came out here to ask you to be very careful of your conversation before +the children. + +NATHANIEL + +The children? + +JOHN + +Yes, my two grandchildren.-- + +NATHANIEL + +Grandchildren! My, that makes me a great uncle. I _am_ getting old, Aunt +Letitia! + +JOHN + +I do not care to have them or Jonathan hear about any revolutionary or +other unusual ideas. + +NATHANIEL + +I shall try not to contaminate the children and Jonathan. How old are the +children? + +JOHN + +Mary is four and John 3rd is two. + +NATHANIEL + +I shall try to spare their sensibilities. + +JOHN + +They may not understand you but they will hear. + +NATHANIEL (_to Letitia_) + +How old is Jonathan? + +LETITIA + +Fourteen. + +NATHANIEL + +The impressionable age. + +JOHN + +The silly age. + +NATHANIEL + +Brother John, no age is the silly age. Fourteen is the age of visions and +enchantments and fears. What a boy of fourteen sees and hears takes on a +value that we cannot underestimate. Most men are defeated in life between +fourteen and twenty. At fourteen a boy begins to make a lens through which +he sees life. He thinks about everything. Ambition is beginning to stir in +him and he begins to know why he likes things, why he wants to do certain +things. He formulates lasting plans for the future and he takes in +impressions that are indelible. Things that seem nothing to old people +become memories to him that affect his whole life. The memory of a smile +may encourage him to surmount all obstacles and the memory of a bitterness +may act as an eternal barrier. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, are you a father? + +NATHANIEL + +No, John, I am only a bachelor who is very much in love with life in +general and one lady in particular. + +JOHN + +You can know nothing of children, then. + +NATHANIEL + +I remember myself. Most men forget their younger selves and that is fatal. + +JOHN + +One would think to hear you talk that the most important things in life +were a boy of fourteen and his moorings. + +NATHANIEL + +One might know it. + +JOHN + +You are still the same impractical theorist. + +NATHANIEL + +I am the same theorist--a little older, a little more travelled. The +trouble with you, John, is that you think no age is important except your +own. You always thought that, even when you were fourteen. Oh, I know I +wasn't born then, but I know you. + +JOHN + +Did you come back to your home in order to lecture me? + +NATHANIEL + +No, no, I beg your pardon. I came back to see my home and Aunt Letitia and +the children--and you, and I--I think--Jonathan. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, when your letter came telling me that you had decided to come +back to see us, I was going to ask you not to come-- + +NATHANIEL + +I gave no address. + +JOHN + +But on second thought, I made up my mind to forgive you-- + +NATHANIEL + +Thank you. + +JOHN + +To let bygones be bygones. + +NATHANIEL + +That is the better way, brother: let the dead past bury its dead. + +JOHN + +Why did you run away from home? + +NATHANIEL + +Because we couldn't agree, John. + +JOHN + +I was older than you; my judgment was mature; I was the head of the family, +in my father's place. + +NATHANIEL + +We didn't speak the same language. I wanted something out of life that you +couldn't understand; that my father couldn't understand. I determined to +get it by myself. + +JOHN + +Well? + +NATHANIEL + +And so, I ran away. + +JOHN + +Leaving no trace, no word. + +NATHANIEL + +Oh, yes, I left a very important word--"Good-bye." + +JOHN + +You were willing to leave all the work of our father's business on my +shoulders. + +NATHANIEL + +You were willing to take it all. And I wanted my freedom. + +JOHN + +You were selfish and heartless. + +NATHANIEL + +Selfish? Because I had my life to live and meant to live it? + +JOHN + +You should have told us where you were living. + +NATHANIEL + +I preferred to work out my salvation alone, without interference. My going +away gave you a free hand. John, don't tell me that you were not overjoyed +that my flight gave you all my father's fortune. + +JOHN + +It was my duty as head of the family to protect you. + +NATHANIEL + +I didn't ask for protection. I wanted understanding. + +JOHN + +A boy of eighteen must not be allowed freedom. + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps not, John, but he must be allowed to grow toward his goal. Eighteen +is not too young for a man to fly through the air in defense of his +country, or you. The burden of the world today is on the shoulders of men +from eighteen to eighty, share and share alike.... I wanted to be a +writer-- + +JOHN + +And our brother Henry wanted to be a musical composer and our sister Emily +wanted to be an actress! A fine putout for the leading commercial family of +this state! + +NATHANIEL + +Well, John, our brother and our sister have paid the final penalty. They +have died. Henry left a handful of worthless little tunes and Emily left a +trunkful of costumes as monuments to their folly. And now Emily's boy is +here under your wing. + +JOHN + +He's a dreamer like all the rest of you. + +NATHANIEL (_with interest; tenderly_) + +Yes? + +JOHN + +He spends all his leisure time playing with that fool toy there. + +[_He points to the model theatre._ + +_Nathaniel smiles and crosses to the piano and lifts the cloth that covers +the theatre; then he looks at the placard and laughs joyously._ + +NATHANIEL + +"Zenobia." " Alexander Jefferson, Sr." + +JOHN + +He pretends that's his name--Alexander Jefferson, Sr! + +NATHANIEL + +People like to have other names. Look at all artists--like writers, +pugilists, and actors, and base ball players. And the Sr. Is an effort to +appear older. + +JOHN + +Well, I'm breaking him of all that nonsense. I allow him only a certain +number of hours for play. Emily used to spoil him and it's been a task to +conquer him. + +NATHANIEL + +Jonathan is fourteen. When I was fourteen--What are Jonathan's tastes? + +JOHN + +He reads all the time and he wants to write plays and poetry; but I am +conquering that silliness. + +NATHANIEL + +I think I am going to like my nephew. John, I'll come into the house +shortly. I think I'll look at this toy a moment and I'll get Aunt Letitia +to show me some of Emily's things. A mere matter of sentiment. + +JOHN + +Now don't put any foolishness into the boy's head. + +NATHANIEL + +I promise you I sha'n't try to change the boy's head, brother. + +JOHN + +I play golf from five to six. + +NATHANIEL + +Oh, you've taken up athletics? + +JOHN + +The doctor's advice. Will you join me? + +NATHANIEL + +Thank you, no. + +JOHN + +Very well. I'll see you at dinner. + +NATHANIEL + +Thank you. (_John goes out. Nathaniel looks musingly at Letitia who has +been sitting silently on Emily's trunk, knitting, Nathaniel crosses to her +and sits on a stool at her feet_) Does John always talk to you so much, +little church mouse? + +LETITIA + +I have been a poor relation for thirty-five years, my boy, and to be a +successful poor relation, one must learn the art of silence. + +NATHANIEL + +No wonder I ran away! + +LETITIA + +But you should have written to me. + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps--I should--yes--I should have written, but I didn't. You see, Aunt +Letty, I was a sensitive boy. All my life I had dreamed of doing my own +work. I saw Henry disappointed in life, I saw Emily made miserable enough +through the traditions of the family. John couldn't understand me and I +couldn't understand him. There was no common meeting-ground. John was the +head of the family and so deeply was the idea of submission to rule +ingrained in me that I could think of only one way out of my restraint. I +wouldn't study engineering, and I wouldn't continue at Somerset School. +Well, I ran away from my ancestral castle to find my way in a new world. I +think I have found it. + +LETITIA + +Jonathan doesn't want to study engineering, either. + +NATHANIEL (_Looks closely at her a moment and then smiles_) + +As Ibsen would say--Ghosts! (_He walks toward the window_) Poor John! + +LETITIA + +Poor Jonathan! + +[_At this moment Jonathan enters the room. He is a slender boy of fourteen +with a deep problem in his eyes. When he smiles before his elders, which is +seldom, he seems always prepared to restrain the smile. His voice is just +changing and this adds to his reticence. He has a tremendous capacity for +expressing wonderment and, as usual with one of his type, he is capable of +great displays of temper. He gives the impression of thinking about +everything he sees. He is at the age of wonder and only custom prevents the +world from becoming the promised land of visions and enchantments._ + +NATHANIEL + +Poor Jonathan! + +[_He turns and sees the boy._ + +_The two stand face to face for a moment. For Nathaniel it is the first +moment of a new relationship. For Jonathan it is a moment of uncertainty. +He has heard himself called "Poor Jonathan" and he is facing another male +relative._ + +_Jonathan looks first at Letitia, then at Nathaniel and then at Letitia._ + +LETITIA + +Jonathan, this is your Uncle Nathaniel. Nathaniel, this is Emily's boy. + +NATHANIEL (_Holds out his hand which Jonathan takes very shyly_) + +Jonathan! + +JONATHAN + +How do you do, sir? + +NATHANIEL + +How tall you are! + +JONATHAN (_quite conscious of his short trousers_) + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +I didn't take you away from any studies, did I? + +JONATHAN + +No, sir.... I was just writing something when Susan called me. + +NATHANIEL + +May I ask what you were writing? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir.... + +[_He swallows._ + +... A play. + +NATHANIEL + +A play! _Zenobia_? + +JONATHAN (_Looks quickly for some indication of laughter in Nathaniel's +eyes_) + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +It's a tragedy, isn't it? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +In ten acts. + +JONATHAN + +There may be only eight. + +NATHANIEL + +Then I know who you are! (_Jonathan looks at him in surprise_) You are the +celebrated dramatist, Alexander Jefferson, Sr. + +JONATHAN + +Did Aunt Letitia tell you? + +NATHANIEL + +No, sir. I read it on the billboards. (_Jonathan laughs with a catch in +his breath_) And I should like to attend a performance, Mr. Jefferson. + +JONATHAN + +It isn't finished yet. + +NATHANIEL + +Well, when am I to see this theatre? + +LETITIA + +Your Uncle Nathaniel and I shall come together. + +JONATHAN + +You've seen all the plays. + +LETITIA + +That doesn't make any difference. I'd like to see them again. + +[_Jonathan looks at her to be sure she is in earnest. Then he smiles._ + +JONATHAN + +I'll finish _Zenobia_ for tomorrow. + +NATHANIEL + +Agreed! Can you get the scenery ready? + +JONATHAN + +I painted it last week. + +LETITIA + +You must have the orchestra, too, Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, ma'am. Susan has some new pieces. + +NATHANIEL + +Is Susan the orchestra? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +What else have you written? + +JONATHAN + +A lot of plays, sir. Mother and I used to write little plays. I don't write +many any more. + +NATHANIEL + +Why not? + +JONATHAN + +I'm getting too big. + +NATHANIEL + +Do you ever write anything beside plays? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +That's splendid. Stories? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir.... And I've written some po--poetry. + +NATHANIEL + +Excellent! + +JONATHAN + +They're not very good, but Susan always wants me to write the poetry for +the music. + +[_Aunt Letitia has repacked the trunk and locked it. She sees that +Nathaniel and Jonathan are getting on famously._ + +LETITIA + +I'll go to the house now and you can talk to Jonathan, Nathaniel. + +[_Jonathan looks appealingly at Letitia, but with a smile she goes +downstairs._ + +_Jonathan and Nathaniel look at each other for an embarrassed minute, then +Jonathan takes refuge at his theatre._ + +NATHANIEL + +May I see some of your plays? + +JONATHAN + +Do you really want to see them? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes. + +[_Jonathan goes to a box on the piano in which there are many manuscripts +carefully bound. He hands one to Nathaniel._ + +JONATHAN + +Here is one that mother and I wrote. She loved the theatre. + +NATHANIEL (_taking the strange-looking little manuscript._ _Reading_:) + +"Robin Hood and His Merry Men." + +JONATHAN + +We used to make all those old stories into plays. + +NATHANIEL + +Do you like to write? + +JONATHAN + +Oh, yes. I wish I could write real plays, but there's no one to help me +now. My mother used to correct them and tell me what was wrong. She knew a +lot about the theatre and she used to tell me all sorts of things. But now +Aunt Letitia doesn't say anything. Sometimes she comes to a show, but she +can't help me. And Uncle John doesn't like the theatre. He thinks I'm too +old to give shows, but I can't help it. There's nothing I like so much. + +NATHANIEL + +May I read this some time? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir.... Would you like to see it played? + +NATHANIEL + +I want to see them all. + +JONATHAN + +Forty-one of them? + +NATHANIEL + +Forty-one of them! Where do you keep them all? + +JONATHAN + +Here in this box. + +[_He shows all the manuscripts._ + +NATHANIEL + +What are the pink ones? + +JONATHAN + +Those are the ones mother liked best and these--(_showing blue ones_) are +the ones I liked best.... I like them all now, but it used to be lots of +fun to choose our favorites. + +NATHANIEL + +What is this one that's different from all the rest? + +JONATHAN + +That's one that mother wrote all by herself. It's best of all. + +NATHANIEL + +You must save these carefully, Jonathan--all your life. + +JONATHAN + +Oh, yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +Some day you may be proud of them. + +JONATHAN + +See--she wrote this, and I wrote this. I was a bad writer, wasn't I? + +NATHANIEL + +What do you want to do, Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +You mean what do I want to be? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes. + +JONATHAN + +I want to write plays. + +NATHANIEL + +Is that all? + +JONATHAN + +Well, I'd like to run a theatre. + +NATHANIEL + +What else? + +JONATHAN + +I'd--you won't tell anyone, will you? + +NATHANIEL + +Of course not. + +JONATHAN + +You see, Uncle John wants me to go to Somerset School to study engineering +and learn the business. + +NATHANIEL + +And you don't want to--Is that it? + +JONATHAN + +I'd rather be a writer. + +NATHANIEL + +They say you can't make any money at writing. + +JONATHAN + +That's what Uncle John says, but I want to just the same. + +NATHANIEL + +If you follow John's advice, you'll be a rich man. + +JONATHAN + +I'd rather be poor. What would you do, Uncle Nathaniel? + +NATHANIEL + +I--why I'd--Oh, come now, Jonathan--you know John is the head of the Clay +family and you and he must decide this question. + +JONATHAN + +Wouldn't you want to be what you want to be? + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps I should. + +JONATHAN + +I don't see how anyone can decide what you want to be--no matter how old he +is. + +NATHANIEL + +Have you ever talked to John? + +JONATHAN + +Oh, yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +What did he say? + +JONATHAN + +He said I had to study engineering or go to work in the factory next fall +for good. + +NATHANIEL + +What do you want to do? + +JONATHAN + +I want to go to a fine prep school and then to college and then-- + +NATHANIEL + +Then what? + +JONATHAN + +I want to be an actor!! + +NATHANIEL + +I see. + +JONATHAN + +Don't tell anybody. + +NATHANIEL + +I won't. That's pretty far from engineering, isn't it? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. But everybody can't be alike. You and Uncle John aren't anything +alike. + +NATHANIEL + +And we're brothers, too. + +JONATHAN + +Do you ever get all mixed up and don't know what to do? + +NATHANIEL + +Oh, yes. I think everybody does. + +JONATHAN + +What do you do then? + +NATHANIEL + +I do something very silly. + +JONATHAN + +Do you do silly things, too? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes. I'm afraid I do. + +JONATHAN + +What do you do when you get all mixed up? + +NATHANIEL + +I'll tell you--it might not work with everybody, you know--but it works +with me. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir! + +NATHANIEL + +My mother used to sing me a song called--"There is a green hill far away." +I always liked that song because it gave me a feeling of contentment and +happiness. I imagined that I could see that hill with its pleasant green +slopes and at its foot lay a little cottage all cool and pleasant and open +to the winds. There were no locks and bolts to keep one out or to keep one +in. I used to imagine that I was climbing that hill to the top of the world +and when I reached the summit I could see-- + +JONATHAN (_enthralled_) + +I know--the whole wide world. + +NATHANIEL + +Its very bigness made me happy in my imagination.... Then when I grew up +and heavy troubles came to me I remembered the Green Hill Far Away and one +day I found such a hill and I climbed it--clear to the top--and there below +me lay the world--the whole wide world--and I told the world something then +and felt the better for it.... Jonathan, there is nothing like a hilltop to +make a man feel worth while. + +JONATHAN + +I know what you mean.... But I always want to jump when I look down from +any place, do you? + +NATHANIEL + +I suppose everybody does. + +JONATHAN + +Uncle John thinks every boy ought to be alike. + +NATHANIEL + +Many schools used to think that way. + +JONATHAN + +But boys don't all think the same. They're different just like men, only +they don't know so much. + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps not. + +JONATHAN + +Uncle John won't let me put on long pants until I'm fifteen. + +NATHANIEL + +He let me put them on when I was fifteen, too. + +JONATHAN + +Were you as tall as I am? + +NATHANIEL + +Just about the same height, but my legs were like pipe stems and I was very +much ashamed. + +JONATHAN + +So am I. + +NATHANIEL + +You'll forget all about it after you're fifteen. + +JONATHAN + +I can talk to you like I used to talk to my mother. + +NATHANIEL + +Thank you. We're going to be fine friends, aren't we? + +JONATHAN + +You bet. Is it silly for me to like to write plays? + +NATHANIEL + +Why do you ask that? + +JONATHAN + +Because Uncle John says it's silly. + +NATHANIEL + +Well, it all depends upon the way you look at it, Jonathan. The world has +never been able to agree as to what is and what is not silly. Mr. Browning, +the poet, might have considered hooks and eyes the silliest things in the +world; but to Mr. de Long, they were, no doubt, the most important things +in the world. Many men agree with Mr. Browning and many ladies agree with +Mr. de Long. + +JONATHAN + +That's what I think. + +NATHANIEL + +You and I probably have many thoughts in common. + +[_Susan and Mlle. Perrault enter. Mlle. Perrault is a Frenchwoman of +exquisite grace and poise. She speaks English fluently, but with a charming +accent and an occasional Gallic phrase larding her pleasant sentences. Her +entrance into the room is electric. She has already won Susan._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Ah, there you are, Mr. Nathaniel Clay. I met la belle Susanne in the +roadway and she told me you were in the lumber room in the carriage house +and I say to her, "We shall track him to his lair." Besides, I want to see +what a lumber room is. + +NATHANIEL + +I was hiding from you. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Villain! And this is Jonathan. How do you do? Susanne tells me you write +poetry and she writes music and she promise me that you will sing for me. + +JONATHAN + +I can't sing. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Ah! Susanne tell me you have a theatre and you write plays and paint +scenery and write poetry and sing songs and she say if I come here to the +lumber room in the carriage house you will play me a tragedy and sing me a +song. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, ma'am. + +NATHANIEL + +Having introduced yourself to everybody, will you tell me, Susan, how Mlle. +Perrault learned so much in such a little time? + +SUSAN + +Well, I was waiting for Jonathan to call me. + +JONATHAN + +Oh, I forgot. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +She was sitting like a little fairy in the grass by the roadway, and I stop +my car and ask for Mr. Nathaniel Clay and she say you are here in the +lumber room in the carriage house and she tell me many things--because we +like each other very, very much and we walk very, very slowly. + +NATHANIEL + +Now! Now that you know all about Miss Susan Sample and Mr. Jonathan--(_He +realizes he doesn't know Jonathan's second name_) I think I shall introduce +you by your pen name, Jonathan--Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr. + +(_To Mlle. Perrault_) + +I am going to let them know about you. This, lady and gentleman, is Mlle. +Marthe Perrault of Paris, France. Mlle. Perrault, may I present my friend +Susan and my nephew Jonathan? + +MLLE. PERRAULT (_falling into the mood_) + +I am very, very pleased to see you again, Miss Sample. It is a great +pleasure to have the honor of meeting you, Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr. I +am looking forward to the premiere of your great tragedy, _Zenobia_, of +which Miss Sample has been telling me. + +SUSAN (_Puts her arms about Mlle. Perrault and Jonathan is uncertain +whether to be happy or afraid_) + +He wrote lots of others, too. + +JONATHAN + +Forty-one. + +NATHANIEL + +I think I'll tell you two a secret. (_Susan pricks up her ears_) Do you +like secrets? + +SUSAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +And can you keep them? + +SUSAN + +Oh, yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +Well, some day Mlle. Perrault is going to be my wife. + +[_He kisses Mlle. Perrault's hand._ + +_Mlle. Perrault shows her engagement ring._ + +SUSAN + +When? + +NATHANIEL + +Very soon. She is here on some war work and when she and her father go +back to France I shall follow and we shall be married. + +SUSAN + +Ooh-- + +NATHANIEL + +Now you mustn't tell. + +SUSAN + +Honest. + +JONATHAN + +No, sir! + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Now, we have a secret. And you are going to sing me a little song. + +SUSAN + +Come on, Jonathan. Let's do the new one. + +JONATHAN + +Well, I'll try. + +[_He is quite miserable with stage-fright._ + +_Susan sits at the piano and plays a chord. Then Jonathan begins to sing +with much fear in his voice._ + +JONATHAN (_singing_) + + All on a summer's day, + With flowers by the way, + A fair young prince and his purple knight + Found a princess at her play. + So by the crescent moon + He asked a royal boon + And sat him down on a soft green knoll-- + And the night-time came too soon. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Oh, that is just like a little French peasant song! How does it go? +La--la--la--la--la--la. + +[_Susan begins to play it again._ + +_Jonathan sings more surely than before._ + +_Slowly Mlle. Perrault falls into the rhythm and very simply dances a +little peasant dance to Jonathan's and Susan's song. The two youngsters are +in the seventh heaven of delight._ + +So--when one is very happy or very sad, he makes a song and when he's very, +very happy, he dances. And when he is very, very, very unhappy he dies. You +see, _I_ am very, very happy. When do you play _Zenobia_, Mr. Jefferson, +Sr.? + +JONATHAN + +I'll have it ready tomorrow, maybe tonight. + +NATHANIEL + +We shall have a season ticket. But now, I want you to meet my blessed Aunt +Letitia. She hasn't changed one bit in all these years. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +To Aunt Letitia then. Good-bye, Jonathan. Tomorrow is the day of the great +premiere. + +JONATHAN (_awkwardly_) + +Thanks. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +And la belle petite Susanne, au revoir. + +SUSAN + +I'll walk with you part of the way. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Very well. Marchons, marchons.... + +[_They go out._ + +NATHANIEL (_holding back a little_) + +Good-bye, Mr. Manager. + +[_He goes out calling_ "Marthe." + +_Jonathan is left alone in his joy_. _As he stands, a strange, aimless, +vacuous whistling is heard outside the window an though from one ambling +by. Jonathan hears it unconsciously, moves to put his plays away, +alternately whistling and singing "All on a summer's day."_ + +_Presently the whistling of the strange air is heard as though coming from +downstairs. It stops and a voice calls out_ "Hi!" + +JONATHAN + +Who is it? + +VOICE + +It's me. + +JONATHAN + +What do you want? + +[_By this time the Voice has become a person in the shape of Hank, one of +the scum of creation who asks nothing of life and gives nothing. He was +born of woman and he grew into man's form, but one looking at him wonders +how he survived dirt and the mere effort of breathing. He is stoutish with +no marked coloring unless it be a cross between khaki and field-gray. +Weather and time have conspired to render him inconspicuous. When he speaks +his voice is produced with a careful effort to conserve energy. When he +walks it seems to be a movement in answer to prayer rather than a physical +fact._ + +HANK + +Say-- + +JONATHAN + +How'd you get in here? + +HANK + +Well, it's this way, you see. The gate was open out there and this looked +pretty fine to me so I come in. + +JONATHAN + +You'd better go away before my uncle sees you. + +HANK + +Look here, young feller, I ain't goin' a-do no harm. + +JONATHAN + +Well, he doesn't allow strangers on the place. + +HANK + +I jus' come in to ask if I could sleep somewhere around here if I worked +for my sleep and grub. + +JONATHAN + +No, he won't let you. + +HANK + +How do you know he won't? + +JONATHAN + +'Cause it's a rule. + +[_Hank whistles a snatch of the strange air and sits down._ + +HANK + +Where's your pa? + +JONATHAN + +He's dead. + +HANK + +Long? + +JONATHAN + +Ten years ago. + +HANK + +How old are you? + +JONATHAN + +Fourteen. + +HANK + +Your pa died when you were four. So did mine. + +JONATHAN + +Did you ever have an uncle? + +HANK + +How many you got? + +JONATHAN + +I got two living and one dead. + +HANK + +All three of mine's dead. + +[_He whistles a snatch of the strange air and takes a chew of tobacco._ + +Where's your ma? + +JONATHAN (_Is about to become impatient, but an innate tolerance causes him +to answer_) + +She died when I was twelve. + +HANK + +So did mine. (_Whistles_) We're alike in lots of ways, ain't we? + +JONATHAN + +What did you do when your mother died? + +HANK + +I felt pretty sorry. + +JONATHAN + +Did your brothers and sisters help you any? + +HANK + +Have you any brothers and sisters? + +JONATHAN + +No-- + +HANK + +Me neither. (_Whistles casually_) No one took no notice of me. + +JONATHAN + +What'd you do? + +HANK + +I went away. + +JONATHAN + +Why didn't you try to work? + +HANK + +Couldn't find nothing suitable. 'T first I felt sort o' worried an' then I +kep' walkin' on and I seen so much trouble where I went I says to myself, +"Hank, you're lucky," I says. "You ain't got no fam'ly to bother you an' +you ain't got nothing to worry you an' you don't have to get no place in +partic'lar and you don't have to stay no place." A man wot's got a wife's +all the time worrying about her health or her money spendin' or her gaddin' +or her naggin'. An' a man w'ots got a fam'ly's always wondering where +they'll end. An' a man's wot's got a home's all time worrying about keepin' +it locked up. I bet the poor nut wot owns this place can't breathe easy for +bein' scared things'll be took or burnt up. W'y you--look at +you--(_Whistles_) You're wishin' I'd go 'cause you're 'fraid I'll take +somethin'. I won't take nothin', young feller, 'cause I don't need nothin' +now and I won't need nothin' till it's cold again--and then I'll git an +overcoat maybe. It's too much trouble takin' things--'cause you have to +carry 'em. (_Whistles_) You goin' to let me sleep here some place? + +JONATHAN + +I can't. My uncle would drive you away. Maybe he'd have you arrested. + +HANK + +I ain't done nothin'. I ain't hurtin' nobody. + +JONATHAN + +Well, he doesn't allow strangers around. + +HANK (_Whistles. At the window_) + +That's where I went by jus' now. + +JONATHAN + +I heard you whistling. + +HANK + +That's a tune I made up once. (_Whistles_) + +JONATHAN + +Do you make up tunes? + +HANK + +That's the only one I ever done. It comes in handy and it don't hurt no +one. + +[_Jonathan unconsciously tries to whistle a phrase of the tune._ + +HANK + +No, that ain't it. It's this way. + +[_Whistles._ + +_Jonathan tries it again and fails._ + +No. Here. + +_Jonathan makes it this time._ + +HANK + +That's it. Say, what you got these bars for? It's like jail. Are they +afraid you'll jump out on them rocks? + +JONATHAN + +No, I guess not. There isn't much danger of my wanting to jump out. + +HANK + +You never can tell for sure, young feller. + +JONATHAN + +It's to keep people from climbing in. + +HANK + +There ain't no bars over that one. (_Pointing to gable window_) + +JONATHAN + +That's too high. + +HANK + +It'd be like fallin' off the top of a house, wouldn't it? + +[_Whistles._ + +_Jonathan whistles "All on a Summer's Day."_ + +HANK + +What you got there? + +JONATHAN + +That's my theatre. + +HANK + +A show? + +JONATHAN + +Yes. + +HANK + +How does it work? + +JONATHAN + +These are the actors. + +HANK + +What's the string fer? + +JONATHAN + +You put him in a groove and pull him. + +HANK + +Lemme see it. + +JONATHAN + +All right. I'll show you a scene from the play I'm going to play for my +Uncle Nathaniel tomorrow. + +HANK + +Fire away. + +[_Jonathan lights the lamps that are back of the screen and pulls the +blinds or some cover over the barred windows._ + +HANK + +I wouldn't have all this junk if you'd give it to me. No, sir, when I move +I carry my house with me and there ain't much o' that now. (_Indicates his +clothes_) + +JONATHAN + +All ready. Now you sit there. + +[_Places Hank on the bench._ + +_He goes behind the screen and taps some bells._ + +HANK + +What's that fer? + +JONATHAN + +That's to get ready. + +HANK + +Well, I'm ready. + +[_Jonathan opens the curtain and discloses a scene from Zenobia._ + +That's beautiful. It's just like real. + +[_Jonathan pulls a figure across the stage._ + +Hello, old man. That's the one I jus' seen. Where's the string? + +[_Jonathan lifts the string._ + +JONATHAN + +Here it is. + +HANK + +Now where's that feller goin' to? + +JONATHAN (_coming out from behind the screen_) + +Well, you see, _Zenobia_-- + +HANK + +_Zenob_--God, what a name! + +JONATHAN + +They used to have names like that. + +HANK + +How d' you do it? + +JONATHAN + +Look, I'll show you a little. + +[_He goes behind the screen and closes the curtain._ + +HANK + +What you doin' that for? I like to see that picture. + +JONATHAN + +I'm going to show you how I do it. + +[_Jonathan rings the bells._ + +HANK + +All right. I'm ready. Let her go. + +[_Jonathan opens the curtain and pulls a character on, then another._ + +JONATHAN (_in assumed voice_) + + "Hail, noble duke." + "All is well, I ween." + +HANK + +Say, are they talkin' to each other? + +JONATHAN + +Yes. + +HANK + +Which is the noble duke? + +JONATHAN (_pulling a string_) + +This one. + +HANK. + +And the other one's name is Iween, ain't it? + +JONATHAN + +No, his name is Rollo. + +[Illustration: JONATHAN MAKES A WISH + +ACT I.] + +HANK + +All right, fire ahead. I guess you know what you're doing. + +JONATHAN (_in assumed voice_) + +"Hail, noble duke." + +"All is well, I ween." + +"Not very well, noble duke." + +"What is wrong?" + +"Queen Zenobia is very mad, noble duke." + +"What is she mad about, Rollo?" + +[_Uncle John enters suddenly._ + +JOHN + +Jonathan-- + +[_He sees Hank._ + +What does this mean? + +HANK + +I'm seein' a show. + +JOHN + +You get out of here this instant. + +HANK + +I ain't hurtin' nothin', mister, but I'll git out if you say so. + +JOHN + +What do you mean by this, Jonathan? + +HANK + +I'll git out. Thank you fer the show, boy. + +[_He goes out whistling._ + +_John crosses to the door._ + +JOHN (_calling after Hank_) + +Come on, get out of here quickly. + +HANK (_off_) + +I'm out, mister. + +JOHN + +Now, Jonathan, what do you mean by bringing such people into this place? + +JONATHAN + +I didn't bring him in. He came up while I was working. + +JOHN + +Do you call that silly stuff _working_? + +JONATHAN + +I was getting it ready for Uncle Nathaniel. + +JOHN + +He's been putting that nonsense in your head, has he? + +JONATHAN + +He asked me to let him see all my plays. + +JOHN + +I suppose he told you to ask that dirty tramp in here. + +JONATHAN + +No, sir. He didn't see the tramp. + +[_Hank is heard whistling._ + +_John crosses to one of the windows and opens it._ + +JOHN (_calling_) + +You get away from there. Move on. + +HANK'S VOICE + +I guess the roadside's free, mister. + +JOHN + +We'll see about that. + +[_Hank whistles._ + +JOHN + +Jonathan, I won't have you waste your time on this stuff. I've been pretty +lenient with you and I've allowed you to keep your toys because Emily +spoiled you; but you're too big for such things and I'm going to put my +foot down right now. I'm not going to have this silly stuff around. + +JONATHAN + +Uncle Nathaniel doesn't think it's silly. + +JOHN + +I'll decide what is and is not good for you. + +JONATHAN + +The same thing isn't good for everybody. + +JOHN + +Don't talk back to me, young man. + +JONATHAN + +I've got a right to think. + +JOHN + +Jonathan! + +JONATHAN + +If my mother was living, she wouldn't call everything I like to do silly. + +JOHN + +Your mother didn't know what was good for you. + +JONATHAN + +My mother was the best woman in the world. + +JOHN + +That will do, Jonathan. Your mother was my sister and I am not saying +anything against her. But I do say that stuff must go. + +[_He starts for the door._ + +JONATHAN + +If this theatre goes, I go, too. I'm not-- + +[_John walks over to the theatre and sweeps the whole structure onto the +floor._ + +JOHN + +Now. + +JONATHAN + +You dirty coward, you-- + +[_John turns upon the boy and strikes him across the face._ + +_In mingled rage and humiliation Jonathan sobs wildly once or twice, then +controls himself and glares violently at his uncle._ + +JOHN + +I'll let you think about it. I'll leave you here with your toys like a +girl-baby. + +[_He goes out the door, closing it and turning the key in the lock._ + +_Jonathan runs to the door._ + +JONATHAN + +You let me out of here! You let me out of here! + +[_He pounds the door with his fists._ + +_Then he turns in despair and humiliation._ + +_He paces the floor a moment, not knowing what to do. Suddenly Hank's +whistle is heard. The boy listens as though fascinated and goes to the +window and watches Hank. Jonathan goes to his wrecked theatre and, taking +it up, piles his manuscripts, the pink and the blue, on it. He hesitates to +include one in the pile, offering once or twice to put it in his pocket, +but he finally places it in grim determination with the others. Then he +takes it off and stuffs it in his pocket. He stuffs the pile in the stove +and sets a match to it, watches it a moment, then writes on a piece of +paper, fastens it to the door. Then he finds a piece of rope on a packing +case, moves the ladder under the gable window, fastens the rope to a peg +in the wall, climbs the ladder, considers a moment, returns to the stove +with the beloved manuscript, stuffs it in the fire, remounts the ladder and +lets his weight onto the rope. As he disappears from view, the rope breaks +and a cry and sound of falling are heard._ + +_The flames from the burning theatre and manuscripts flicker against the +wall for a silent moment._ + +_The key is heard to turn in the lock and John and Nathaniel enter._ + +JOHN + +Jonathan! + +NATHANIEL + +He's hiding. + +JOHN + +Jonathan! + +NATHANIEL (_Sees paper on door_) + +What's this? + +JOHN + +What does it say? + +NATHANIEL + +"Good-bye!... Jonathan." + +JOHN (_Looks suspiciously at Nathaniel_) + +Did you tell the silly boy about your running away? + +NATHANIEL + +I told Jonathan nothing about myself. You are the head of the Clay family +and out of custom I respected your position; but, by God, John, you're a +failure with this boy. + +JOHN + +He-- + +[_Hank enters carrying Jonathan in his arms. Jonathan is limp and pitiful. +His clothes are torn. He is moaning pitifully._ + +HANK + +He fell on the rocks out there. + +NATHANIEL + +Put him over here. + +[_Hank places Jonathan on the bench near the piano. Nathaniel places the +costume, which Susan left there, under his head for a pillow._ + +JOHN + +What was he doing? + +HANK + +He was-- + +NATHANIEL + +This is no time for questions, John. Call a doctor. + +[_Jonathan moans and rolls his head, looking vacantly at Hank now and +then._ + +JONATHAN (_moaning_) + +Good-bye.... Jonathan. + +JOHN + +We'd better take him in the house. + +JONATHAN + +My mother was the best woman-- + +NATHANIEL + +He'd better stay here until the doctor comes. + +[_John exits._ + +JONATHAN + +All on a summer's day-- + +[_All the time Nathaniel has been passing his hands over Jonathan._ + +HANK + +He's out of his head, ain't he? + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps, but sometimes one's heart speaks in a delirium. + +HANK + +He acts like his back's broke. + +NATHANIEL + +My God--his back! + +[_Touches the boy's back._ + +_Jonathan winces with pain._ + +JONATHAN + +My back's broken, Hank. + +HANK + +Listen, he's saying my name. We wuz pals, sure nuff. + +JONATHAN + +My back's broken, Hank. + + +_Curtain._ + + + + +ACT II + + Six years have elapsed since Act I as years elapse in a + boy's imaginings. + + Throughout this act the characters are disclosed + without reason as in a dream; and the movement of the + act represents four terrors of a delirium--anxious + effort to make oneself known, a feeling of fetters, + climbing and a sudden fall. + +JONATHAN BUILDS A FEAR + + +[_Before the curtain rises the voices of Jonathan, Hank, Nathaniel and John +are heard, muffled and far away._ + +HANK + +He fell on the rocks out there. + +NATHANIEL + +Put him over here. + +JOHN + +What was he doing? + +HANK + +He was-- + +NATHANIEL + +This is no time for questions, John. Call a doctor. + +JONATHAN + +Good-bye.... Jonathan. + +JOHN + +We'd better take him in the house. + +JONATHAN + +My mother was the best woman-- + +NATHANIEL + +He'd better stay here until the doctor comes. + +JONATHAN + +All on a summer's day-- + +HANK + +He's out of his head, ain't he? + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps, but sometimes one's heart speaks in a delirium. + +HANK + +He acts like his back's broke. + +NATHANIEL + +My God--his back! + +JONATHAN + +My back's broken, Hank. + +HANK + +Listen, he's saying my name. We wuz pals, sure nuff. + +JONATHAN + +My back's broken, Hank. + +[_The curtain has risen unnoticed._ + +_A faint light that grows steadily brighter as light does when one comes +out of a swoon discloses Jonathan and Hank seated on a log at the left of +the stage, where the bench had been. Jonathan seems much older, and he is +crooked and dirty and unkempt, and Hank is somewhat brutalised, less +negative._ + +JONATHAN + +My back's broken, Hank. + +[_Hank looks at him._ + +Tired? + +HANK + +Sure.... + +JONATHAN + +I think Uncle Nathaniel would help me if he saw me. + +HANK + +He couldn't do nothin' for you. You can't straighten a crooked back.... + +JONATHAN + +Hank, I'm tired of this and I'm going back. + +HANK + +Going back where? + +JONATHAN + +I'm going back home. + +HANK + +Your Uncle John won't let you in. + +JONATHAN + +Uncle Nathaniel will take me in. + +HANK + +He ain't there no more and besides he won't know you. + +JONATHAN + +Honest--don't you think he would? + +HANK + +Sure, he wouldn't. + +JONATHAN + +I wish I hadn't run away. + +HANK + +If you don't quit wishing I'll run away from you. + +JONATHAN + +You wouldn't leave me, would you, Hank? + +HANK + +Sure, I'd leave you.... What do you think I am--a wishing stone?... I want +peace, I do.... An' your wishing's disturbing my peace.... Every day fer +six years you squeal about what you done.... Your Uncle John swatted you +and you burned your theatre things and jumped out o' the window and broke +your back and I saved you.... + +JONATHAN + +I can't do anything with a broken back! + +HANK + +What do you want to do anything for? + +JONATHAN + +Sometimes I'd like to write a little. + +HANK + +Go ahead.... I'll wait for you. + +JONATHAN + +And I'd like to give a show. You know, Hank, I used to want to be an +actor.... + +HANK + +Sure, all kids want to be actors or go in a circus or do something where a +lot o' people are lookin' on. + +JONATHAN + +But I can't be an actor now, because nobody'd want to look at me. + +HANK + +You act like that hump's ruined your life, when all you got to do's crouch +over a little more and look sad and you can get anything you want. Why, +it's money in your pocket, that's what that hump is; it's money in your +pocket. + +[_He closes the conversation by whistling._ + +Say, go on over to that house and get us something to eat. + +[_Jonathan prepares for the quest and Hank rolls over to go to sleep._ + +_As Jonathan crosses, lights disclose a hill with pleasant green slopes. At +its foot stands a little cottage, all cool and pleasant with great glass +doors. There are no locks and bolts to keep one out or to keep one in. A +high plaster and brick wall flanks the cottage._ + +_As Jonathan nears the cottage he meets Uncle John, whose austerity is more +apparent than ever._ + +_Jonathan cowers a moment, then attempts to smile._ + +JONATHAN + +Hank said you'd turn me away if I came back. + +JOHN + +Were you talking to me, boy? + +JONATHAN + +I'm so sorry I ran away, Uncle John. + +JOHN + +Uncle John? + +JONATHAN + +Don't you know me, Sir? + +JOHN + +Indeed I do not. + +JONATHAN + +I'm Jonathan-- + +JOHN + +Jonathan! My nephew Jonathan?--Ha! Ha! + +JONATHAN + +Don't you remember I didn't want to study engineering--I didn't want to go +to Somerset School? + +JOHN + +Where is Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +I'm Jonathan, sir. You remember I jumped out of the window and I tried to +run away. + +JOHN + +You seem to know a lot about it. Where is Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +I tell you I am Jonathan.... Don't you remember you struck me--You struck +me across the face--that's what made me run away. + +JOHN + +I should have whipped him and put him to bed. + +JONATHAN + +I would have run away just the same, Uncle John. + +JOHN + +Don't call me Uncle John! + +JONATHAN + +But you are my Uncle John. + +JOHN + +I ask you where _is_ Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +Would you like to see him? + +JOHN + +I should like to know what has become of him. + +JONATHAN + +Would you let him come back home? + +JOHN + +No. When he ran away, I cast him out forever. + +JONATHAN + +Couldn't you forgive him if he was very, very sorry for what he had +done?... Couldn't you forgive me, sir?... I am Jonathan. Honest I am +Jonathan. + +JOHN + +Don't try to deceive me. Jonathan was impudent as you are; but he was a +Clay: he was straight and fine. + +JONATHAN + +But I broke my back. + +JOHN + +Tell me where Jonathan is, you imposter. + +[_He takes Jonathan by the arm and twists it brutally._ + +Tell me.... Tell me. + +JONATHAN + +I don't know.... Let me go.... I'm _not_ Jonathan. + +JOHN + +Tell me.... + +JONATHAN (_in desperation_) + +He's dead. + +JOHN + +What! + +JONATHAN + +He's dead. He died somewhere. + +JOHN + +And so you tried to palm yourself off as Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +I'm sorry. + +JOHN + +Don't you know you can't make your way with lies? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +JOHN + +You ought to be whipped, but I suppose you don't know any better. I should +have you arrested for vagrancy. + +[_Jonathan winces._ + +But I won't. I pity you, you dirty little beggar. + +[_He starts to walk._ + +You ought to wash your hands and face at least. + +JONATHAN + +Please, sir--one minute.... How are Mary and John third? + +JOHN + +Mary is ten--a big girl--and John third is eight--a strapping boy who will +be a great help to me. + +JONATHAN + +And--how is Aunt Letitia? + +JOHN + +My aunt died of a broken heart. + +JONATHAN + +A broken heart? + +JOHN + +Because Jonathan ran away. + +[_Jonathan buries his face in his arms._ + +There! Don't cry for someone you've never seen.... Here, here, take this-- + +[_He presses a coin into Jonathan's hand and goes out._ + +_Jonathan looks at the coin, then after John, and seems to close his heart. +He crosses to the sleeping Hank._ + +JONATHAN + +Here, Hank. + +HANK (_taking the coin_) + +What'd he say? + +JONATHAN + +He didn't know me. + +HANK + +I guess you're not going back home now! + +JONATHAN + +No, I haven't any home. + +HANK + +Then quit your snifflin' an' go on over to that house. + +JONATHAN + +All right, Hank. + +[_Hank curls up and goes to sleep again._ + +_Jonathan crosses to the cottage and finally summons the courage to knock +on the door. As he does so the lights within grow bright and disclose a +lovely little room with a beautiful piano in the centre. In a moment a +young woman appears and opens the doors. It is Susan Sample. She is +charmingly older; but she is dressed almost as she was in the old lumber +room._ + +JONATHAN + +Please, Miss--why-- + +SUSAN + +What do you want? + +JONATHAN + +I--don't you know me? + +SUSAN + +No, I don't know you, little boy. What do you want? + +JONATHAN + +I--don't you really know me? + +SUSAN + +I've never seen you before. + +JONATHAN + +I know you.... You're Susan Sample. + +SUSAN + +Who told you? + +JONATHAN + +I'm-- (_He becomes conscious of his back_) Why Jonathan told me. + +SUSAN + +Have you seen Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +Yes. + +SUSAN + +Where is he? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know. + +SUSAN + +He ran away. Why doesn't he come home? + +JONATHAN + +Because--oh, I don't know. + +SUSAN + +Who are you? + +JONATHAN + +I'm a vagrant. + +SUSAN + +Are you hungry? + +JONATHAN (_looking toward Hank_) + +No. I'm not.... I'm not begging.... But will you do something for me? + +SUSAN + +Yes, if I can. + +[Illustration: JONATHAN MAKES A WISH + +ACT II.] + +JONATHAN + +Will you play for me? + +SUSAN + +Oh, yes.... What shall I play? + +JONATHAN + +Anything. + +[_Jonathan notices his dirty hands._ + +Excuse me a moment. + +[_He goes to a bird-bath and washes his hands, wipes them and returns to +the piano._ + +_Susan plays a bit of a nocturne with ease and grace._ + +JONATHAN + +Do you remember this? + +[_He hums "All on a Summer Day."_ + +SUSAN + +Oh, yes. + +[_She plays the tune in a sophisticated musical way, but Jonathan is +disappointed._ + +SUSAN + +You don't like it? + +JONATHAN + +That isn't exactly the way it goes. + +SUSAN + +Oh, yes, it is. + +[_She plays it once more and sings it._ + +JONATHAN + +No--no--no. It ought to go this way. + +[_He sings it as he had sung it years before._ + +SUSAN + +You sing that just as Jonathan used to sing it. + +JONATHAN + +I like it that way. + +SUSAN + +Did Jonathan teach it to you? + +JONATHAN + +Yes.... A long time ago. + +SUSAN + +Did he tell you-- + +JONATHAN + +About the lovely lady who danced to the tune? Oh, she was wonderful! + +SUSAN + +Jonathan ran away--and he never wrote to me or thought of me. + +JONATHAN + +He thought of you and he talked of you and he sang of you. + +SUSAN + +No.... I can't believe that. + +JONATHAN + +Jonathan loves you very much. + +SUSAN + +If a man loves a woman very much he can't go away from her for years and +years. + +JONATHAN + +Suppose Jonathan had pride and was ashamed to let you know that he had +failed. + +SUSAN + +Jonathan wouldn't fail. I know Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +He--Susan Sample! + +[_Susan plays softly. She is lovely in the sunlight which is lengthening +across the lawn._ + +[_Jonathan watches her quietly. The love of the boy fans into flame and he +reaches out to her, then in the consciousness of his deformity he turns +away._ + +SUSAN + +Will you tell me where Jonathan was when you last saw him? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know--The last time I saw Jonathan--he was tall and straight--and +making his way. + +SUSAN + +Oh, well. + +[_Albert Peet enters. He is a little man of immaculate appearance and great +preciseness._ + +ALBERT + +Ah, Susan. + +SUSAN + +Albert, you are late. + +ALBERT + +Who is this? + +SUSAN + +This is a friend of Jonathan's. + +ALBERT + +Jonathan who? + +SUSAN + +Don't you remember Jonathan who had the toy theatre? He ran away from home. + +ALBERT + +Oh... and this is his friend? How do you do? + +SUSAN + +Do you remember this? I used to play it for you. + +[_She begins "All on a Summer's Day."_ + +Jonathan and I made it up. + +ALBERT (_laughing_) + +Oh, yes. + +SUSAN (_to Jonathan_) + +Come on and sing it. + +[_Jonathan is not sure of the status of Albert Peet._ + +[_Susan plays and she and Jonathan sing with great feeling._ + +ALBERT [_looking at his watch_ + +Well, all this is very pleasant indeed, but we'll have to go, Susan dear. + +[_At the "Susan, dear" Jonathan turns quickly and sees the two holding +hands. Susan holds up her left hand and shows an engagement ring on it. +Jonathan is utterly crushed._ + +JONATHAN + +I think I'd better say good-bye. + +[_He takes up his cap._ + +SUSAN + +Good-bye. If you see Jonathan, tell him I'm going to marry Albert Peet. +He'll know. + +ALBERT + +Good-bye. + +[_Albert and Susan walk off happily in the sunshine._ + +_Jonathan looks after them._ + +_Mlle. Perrault enters followed by Mary and John 3rd. Mlle. Perrault's +dress is almost like the one she had worn when she first met Jonathan in +the lumber-room, except that the colors are reversed and more brilliant. +Mary is a lovely little yellow-haired child of ten and John 3rd is a +stoical matter-of-fact boy of eight. The two children are evidently very +fond of Mlle. Perrault, as fond as Jonathan and Susan had seemed. If the +children seem thoughtless and cruel, it is because they are children and +life has not yet laid a hard hand upon them. The sun rays are very low +against the wall now so that anyone walking near it will cast a very heavy +shadow._ + +MARY + +John, look--he's a hunchback. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +'Sh! Children. + +[_The children whisper._ + +_Jonathan turns and seeing Mlle. Perrault smiles._ + +How do you do, little man. + +JONATHAN + +I am well, I thank you. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +What are you doing here? + +JONATHAN + +I am with Hank. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Hank? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, Hank's my pal. There he is--asleep. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Oh, what a dreadful person.... Children, don't go near him. + +JONATHAN + +He's not so bad. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +But he is a vagrant--a tramp. Why does he do nothing? + +JONATHAN + +He's happier that way. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Are you his son? + +JONATHAN + +Oh, no. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Where is your mother? + +JONATHAN + +My mother's dead. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Where did she live? + +JONATHAN (_Looks for a trace of recognition_) + +I'd better not tell you. + +MARY + +Oh, please tell us. + +JONATHAN + +I'd better not. + +MARY + +You ask him, John. + +JOHN III + +Uh-uh! + +MARY + +Why not? + +JOHN III + +I don't want to know. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Why don't you want to tell _us_? We won't tell anybody. + +JONATHAN + +Nobody'll believe me. + +MARY + +Why? + +JONATHAN + +You see, I ran away from home-- + +JOHN III + +When you run away from home, you're no good. + +MARY + +Now, John, that isn't always so. + +JOHN III + +It is. + +MARY + +It isn't. Goldilocks and the Babes in the Wood and the Marquis of Carabas +were all good, and they ran away from home. + +JOHN III + +But they had bad homes. + +MARY + +Was your home bad? + +JONATHAN + +I thought it was. + +JOHN III + +You thought it was. But was it? + +JONATHAN + +No. + +JOHN III + +Then you're no good. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Oh, John. + +JOHN III + +No, he isn't. Grandfather said nobody who ran away from home was any good! + +MARY + +Why did you run away from home? + +JONATHAN + +I mustn't tell. + +MARY + +Oh, you won't tell anything! + +JOHN III (_pointing to Hank_) + +What did you say _he_ was, Ma'mselle? + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +He is a vagrant-- + +MARY AND JOHN III + +What's a vagrant? + +MARY + +Ooh-- + +[_Puts up her hand to make a wish._ + +JOHN III + +Aw, I'm not going to make a wish. Grandfather'll get it for me anyway if I +want it. + +MARY + +Now, John Clay III-- + +[_Jonathan looks up quickly._ + +You always spoil things. + +JONATHAN + +Is that Mary Clay and John Clay? + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Yes. + +JONATHAN + +They don't remember Jonathan, do they? + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +You mean Jonathan who ran away? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, ma'am. + +MARY + +Who's Jonathan? + +JOHN III + +He's David's friend. I know that. And he was very good. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +What do you know about Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +I knew him once-- + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +He was a splendid little man! He could make such lovely songs. + +JONATHAN + +Do you remember the one he and Susan Sample made up? + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Let's see--how did it go? + +[_Hums a little--tries several folk tunes. The children edge up to Jonathan +during this and manage to touch his back several times, each keeping count. +Jonathan smiles at them, thinking it's attention._ + +JONATHAN + +No, it went this way. + +[_He sings a little of the song and Mlle. Perrault joins him. As he stops +singing she switches the time to waltz time and begins to sway to it. The +music is taken up as by a dream-orchestra and Mlle. Perrault dances a very +lovely little waltz._ + +JOHN III + +Oh, look at your shadow! + +[_Mlle. Perrault turns and sees her shadow on the wall._ + +I can make a bigger one than that. + +MARY + +Oh, come on, ma'mselle, let's all make shadows. + +[_The three of them stand in front of the wall._ + +JOHN III + +Boy, you come, too. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Come, boy. + +[_Jonathan joins them standing so that his deformity doesn't show in the +shadow._ + +Now, let's dance--Give me your hand--so. + +[_The four dance, while Mlle. Perrault hums "All on a Summer's Day." They +are having a very good time when Susan and Albert enter._ + +_Jonathan is a little conscious of Susan and Albert, and he manages to make +several awkward moves._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Now, let's make everybody's shadow dance by itself. + +MARY + +Oh, come on. + +JOHN III + +You first, Mlle. + +MARY + +It's your turn, Mlle. + +[_Mlle. Perrault stands before the wall and makes a very lovely shadow._ + +John, you do it now. + +JOHN III + +I won't. I'm going to be next to last.... He's going to be last. + +[_Mary makes a pretty "statue."_ + +MARY + +Now, John-- + +[_John III, holding a staff, stands bow-legged and pigeon-toed._ + +_All of them laugh._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT (_to John III_) + +You little Jackanapes! You! + +JOHN III (_to Jonathan_) + +You can't do that. + +[_Jonathan, still conscious of Susan, but more in the spirit of the game +nevertheless, laughs almost gleefully._ + +JONATHAN + +You just wait. + +[_He stands in front of the wall and does some comical movements with his +feet and legs, then he turns in such a way that for the first time the +shadow of his hump is thrown into a pitiful distortion on the wall. He +doesn't see it at first, for he is lost in the game with the children._ + +JOHN III (_yelling suddenly_) + +Oh, look! + +[_The children laugh immoderately, and Jonathan turns his head quickly, but +in so doing alters the shadow. He smiles joyfully and then once more falls +into the distorted picture._ + +MARY + +Ooh-- + +JOHN III + +That's funnier than mine. + +[_Jonathan turns his head this time and sees the full horror of the thing._ + +_Mlle. Perrault and Susan have realized too late to protect Jonathan._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +John! Mary! Tell the little boy good-bye. We must go. + +[_Jonathan looks toward Susan and Albert. There is pity in Susan's eyes +and a smile in Albert's._ + +SUSAN + +Albert, come--let's go! + +[_They pass into the house._ + +JOHN III [_Almost as Susan speaks._ + +Wasn't he funniest of all! + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Now, run along, children. Run along. + +MARY + +Look, I can make a hump-back. + +JOHN III + +So can I. + +MARY + +Not a good one! + +JOHN III + +You can't touch mine. + +[_He smacks Mary on the back and runs off, Mary following him._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Little man, I'm very sorry. You mustn't let them hurt you. They are only +children. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, ma'am.... Thank you. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +May I do something for you? + +JONATHAN + +No, ma'am... if you please... I must go to Hank. + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +Here, take this-- + +[_She offers a coin._ + +JONATHAN + +Oh, no, ma'am.... + +[_He puts his hand behind him._ + +MLLE. PERRAULT + +I am sorry.... Very, very sorry. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, ma'am. + +[_Mlle. Perrault goes out silently, and in a moment she is heard to call_ +"Marie"--"John," _and a distant answer is heard_. + +_Susan comes to the door and sees Jonathan. She crosses to him. He looks at +her almost with madness in his eyes._ + +SUSAN + +They didn't mean to hurt you. + +[_She lays her hand on his arm._ + +JONATHAN + +Yes, I know. + +[_There is a moment of the tenderest, most understanding silence. He turns +away._ + +_Susan starts to reach in her bag, she even takes her purse out; but she +replaces it unopened, and instead of bestowing alms, she takes a flower +from her hair and presses it in Jonathan's hands._ + +_He looks at her with years of pent-up gratitude loosed from his heart._ + +_Silently, she turns away and goes into the house. Jonathan, left alone, +turns so that his hump once more shows in the most distorted shadow. He +lifts the flower and for a single moment, its shadow rises above the shadow +of the hump, a tiny cross on his little Calvary. Then he lays the flower +against his cheek and sits upon the log near Hank._ + +_Hank awakens._ + +HANK (_looking up stupidly_) + +What you got? + +JONATHAN (_hiding the flower_) + +Nothing. + +HANK + +Come across, Humpy. + +JONATHAN + +Don't you call me that! + +HANK + +So--ho! What you yelling at me for? + +[_He sits up._ + +JONATHAN + +Nothing.... I didn't mean to yell. + +HANK + +What you got there? + +JONATHAN + +I tell you I haven't got anything, Hank. + +HANK + +Come on. Come across. + +JONATHAN + +It's not for you. + +HANK + +Come on. + +JONATHAN (_Rises and moves away_) + +No. + +HANK. + +Gimme it here.... + +[_He grabs Jonathan and tears the flower from his hand._ + +JONATHAN + +Stop that! + +HANK + +Great God! (_Throwing the crushed petals on the ground_) Say, what's the +matter with you? + +JONATHAN + +I tell you, I'm going back.... I'm going back to my home.... I'm going to +find my Uncle Nathaniel. I know he'll take me in. He won't blame me because +I'm a cripple.... I know.... I know.... Didn't he say, "Poor Jonathan"?... + +[_At this moment Nathaniel enters, and the two stand face to face as they +had stood in the lumber-room at their first meeting._ + +_Hank slinks away._ + +_Nathaniel is untouched by the years. Jonathan looks at him hopefully, but +there is no glint of recognition In Nathaniel's eye._ + +JONATHAN (_timidly_) + +Uncle Nathaniel. + +NATHANIEL + +What did you say, my boy? + +JONATHAN (_Less and less audible, as his disappointment increases_) + +Uncle Nathaniel. + +NATHANIEL + +I can't hear you. + +JONATHAN + +You--are--my--Uncle Nathaniel. + +NATHANIEL + +Come, come, my boy. I can't hear you. + +JONATHAN + +Aren't you--Mr.--Nathaniel--Clay? + +NATHANIEL (_kindly, but as to a stranger_) + +Yes, I am Mr. Nathaniel Clay. + +[_Jonathan smiles one of his old half smiles._ + +JONATHAN + +My name's--Jonathan. + +NATHANIEL + +Jonathan!... I had a nephew whose name was Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +Don't you know me? + +NATHANIEL + +You must forgive me, little man--but I do not remember you. Boys grow so +quickly. + +JONATHAN + +Don't you remember _Zenobia_? + +NATHANIEL + +_Zenobia?_ Who was she? + +JONATHAN + +Don't you remember the little theatre? + +NATHANIEL + +Oh, yes, my nephew Jonathan had a little toy theatre, and he wrote a play +called _Zenobia_.... He burnt them. + +JONATHAN + +Was it wrong to burn them? + +NATHANIEL + +I don't know. You see Jonathan ran away, and I have never seen him since. + +JONATHAN + +Do you blame him? + +NATHANIEL + +Well, I can't say. When a fine boy like Jonathan runs away from home, he +may have what he considers a good reason. + +JONATHAN + +Don't you know why he ran away? + +NATHANIEL + +I think I know. + +JONATHAN + +Would you tell me why? + +NATHANIEL + +That wouldn't do any good, my boy.... If you had an uncle who liked you +very much, would you run away? + +JONATHAN + +No, sir--not if I had another chance.... + +NATHANIEL + +What do you mean? + +JONATHAN + +Don't you really know me? + +NATHANIEL + +I'm sorry--no! + +JONATHAN (_pointing to Hank_) + +Do you know him? + +NATHANIEL + +That tramp? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir.... That's Hank. + +NATHANIEL + +Hank? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, the one I ran away with. + +NATHANIEL + +Did you run away, too? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir; I jumped out the window, and I fell and broke my back. Hank +said-- + +NATHANIEL + +What a dirty man! + +JONATHAN + +He's my pal. + +NATHANIEL + +You're evidently a fine young man inside. + +JONATHAN + +Oh, I'm sorry, sir, that I ran away. + +NATHANIEL + +You can't undo the past, my boy, but you can make the future. + +JONATHAN + +I can't straighten my back. + +NATHANIEL + +Perhaps not, but you can straighten your life. + +JONATHAN + +I'm only a beggar, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +There is something everybody can do. + +JONATHAN + +There isn't any place for me.... + +NATHANIEL + +My boy, there is a place for everybody who wants a place. + +JONATHAN + +Do you remember what your nephew wanted to do? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, he wanted to write plays and run a theatre and be an actor. + +JONATHAN + +I couldn't ever be an actor, could I? + +NATHANIEL + +No, my boy. + +JONATHAN + +Supposing you had your heart set on something and couldn't do it, what +would you do? + +NATHANIEL + +I'd not give up.... I'd try something else. + +JONATHAN + +Supposing I were your nephew, what would you do? + +NATHANIEL + +I'd find out what you wanted to be. + +JONATHAN + +Don't I look like Jonathan? + +NATHANIEL + +Jonathan must be very tall now. + +JONATHAN + +If Jonathan weren't tall? + +NATHANIEL + +But he _is_ tall and splendid. I know Jonathan! And he's doing what he set +out to do. + +JONATHAN + +I hope you'll find him, sir, and I hope he'll make you proud. + +NATHANIEL (_very earnestly_) + +My boy, how old are you? + +JONATHAN + +I'm twenty. + +NATHANIEL + +Twenty.... Will you try to pull yourself out of the rut? + +JONATHAN + +What do you mean, sir? + +NATHANIEL + +Look at that man. What is he to you? + +JONATHAN + +He's my pal. + +NATHANIEL + +You mustn't waste your life on such emptiness as his. + +JONATHAN + +I'm going to try, sir.... And if I make good, will you believe I'm +Jonathan? + +NATHANIEL + +I'll believe you are you.... Here.... + +[_He offers Jonathan a coin._ + +JONATHAN + +Oh, no, sir.... I can't--from you-- + +NATHANIEL + +Well, you are a strange beggar-- + +JONATHAN + +I'm not a beggar at heart.... I don't want to be what I am. But I don't +know which way to turn. I'm all mixed up. + +NATHANIEL + +All mixed up? + +[_Nathaniel turns and looks toward the hill._ + +Boy, there is a green hill far away. Climb to the top of it, look about and +you will see-- + +JONATHAN + +I know: the whole wide world! + +NATHANIEL + +Exactly. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +Go to the hilltop alone--and cry out to your heart's content.--There's +nothing like a hilltop to make a man feel worth while! + +JONATHAN + +I knew that, sir; but I forgot it. I'm going-- + +NATHANIEL + +Good-bye, boy; God bless you. + +[_The two clasp hands and Nathaniel goes._ + +JONATHAN + +He believes in me.... + +[_He watches Nathaniel with wide eyes, then calls to Hank._ + +Hank! Hank! + +HANK + +What you want? + +JONATHAN + +_He_ didn't know me! + +HANK + +Who didn't know you? + +[_Hank lies down._ + +JONATHAN + +Uncle Nathaniel.... He just passed by.... But, Hank, he believed in me! He +believed I'd make good. + +HANK + +Say, what's the matter with you today? + +JONATHAN + +I'm goin' to leave you, Hank. + +HANK + +Huh? + +JONATHAN + +Old pal, I'm going to leave you forever. You've stuck by me-- + +HANK + +Sure, I've stuck by you. + +[_Makes himself comfortable._ + +Ain't you saved me a heap o' trouble? + +JONATHAN + +But I'm going now, Hank. Good-bye. I'm going to the green hill far away. + +[_He starts away leaving Hank alone and asleep. The lights fade out._ + +_Soft music is heard through the darkness and slowly the outline of the +green hill appears close at hand. Jonathan outlined against the sky appears +at the edge of the hill, climbing with difficulty._ + +NATHANIEL (_The voice is heard with the music_) + +Nine ninety-nine--one thousand. You're nearly there, Boy. + +JONATHAN + +Nine hundred and ninety-nine--one thousand--I'm almost there. + +NATHANIEL (_far away_) + +A thousand and one--a thousand and two-- + +JONATHAN + +A thousand and one, a thousand and two--I am here! + +NATHANIEL (_far away_) + +The world is here. + +JONATHAN (_as though addressing the world_) + +Listen.... I ran away. I ran away. I was fourteen. I saw visions of great +things. I heard voices of the past and the future. I wanted to tell what I +saw and heard.... Oh, you who made sport of my dreams, I am here at the top +of the world! Uncle John, I have heard things you will never hear, and I +have seen things you will never see. + +JOHN (_far away_) + +But your back's broken. + +JONATHAN + +Oh, Susan--Susan Sample--see--see. I told you I wasn't a beggar. +See--see--Jonathan stands at the top of the world! + +SUSAN (_faintly_) + +But your back's broken. + +JONATHAN + +Oh, people of all the world, I am a boy who asks you to hear me and to +understand. I only wanted to work out _my_ way.... I planned my way because +I couldn't help it--I wanted to build my own world--alone.... I climbed +clear to the top--Jonathan stands before you-- + +VOICES + +Jonathan's dead. + +JONATHAN + +Dead?... Oh, see the wreck of everything.... Jonathan _is_ dead! + +[_He falls._ + +NATHANIEL + +Boy--boy--Jonathan!--I believe you are you. + +JONATHAN + +Uncle Nathaniel! + +[_He rises slowly._ + +Oh, people of all the world, my Uncle Nathaniel understands.--I speak for +all the boys of all times. Have patience--patience and understanding. Don't +you remember when you were young? We come to you with hopes and dreams and +wishes and fears,--and these are the things that life is made of-- + +NATHANIEL + +I am here, Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +I'm coming to you. I'm coming back to you with all my hopes and dreams. + +NATHANIEL + +We're waiting for you, Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +I've made my wish that's coming true!! + +[_He jumps into space._ + + +_Curtain._ + + + + +ACT III + +JONATHAN MAKES A WISH + + +[_The scene is a summer house on the estate of John Clay. It is charmingly +furnished with wicker chairs and a table. The building is hexagon shape and +we look into half the hexagon. The doors at the left open on to the path +that leads from the house. The doors at the back open onto a garden path +that leads to a gate. Eight weeks have elapsed since the first act._ + +_The curtain rises disclosing an empty stage. It is early evening and +sunset is leaving only the faintest tinge above the hills. After a moment +Jonathan enters. He is unchanged except that he still carries in his eyes +some of the horror of his delirium. He opens the back windows and then sits +above the table and begins to look at an illustrated paper._ + +_Nathaniel enters carrying a manuscript. He seems a bit less carefree than +at his homecoming, and he also seems closer to Jonathan._ + +NATHANIEL + +Well, my boy-- + +JONATHAN + +Uncle Nathaniel, did you know that Caproni was an artist? + +NATHANIEL + +You mean the Caproni who makes the wonderful aeroplanes? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +No, I didn't know it; but I'm not surprised. + +JONATHAN + +Aren't these pictures fine? + +NATHANIEL + +Excellent. + +JONATHAN + +He made them.... They're like great dragon-flies, aren't they? + +NATHANIEL + +A whole swarm of them. + +JONATHAN + +It must feel funny to fly through air. + +NATHANIEL + +Would you like to try it some time? + +JONATHAN + +Yes... but I'd have to get used to it.... It must be like diving. + +NATHANIEL + +When you were very ill you seemed to imagine you were falling. + +JONATHAN + +Did I talk much when I was unconscious? + +NATHANIEL + +You talked almost continuously. + +JONATHAN + +Did I?... You said you'd tell me what I said--when I was strong enough.... +I'm pretty strong now. + +NATHANIEL + +Do you know what I did? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know. + +NATHANIEL (_showing manuscript_) + +Can you guess? + +JONATHAN (_Looks at manuscript_) + +"Jonathan Builds a Fear." What does that mean? + +NATHANIEL + +When you were delirious I listened to what you said and then I made a story +out of it. + +JONATHAN + +You mean this is all about me? + +NATHANIEL + +It's about a little hunchback who thought he was you. + +JONATHAN + +I know. I was always trying to make somebody know me, and finally I thought +I jumped from the top of a hill and I seemed to be falling for years and +years.... + +NATHANIEL + +Those were terrible days, my boy, and do you know, we were afraid you +wouldn't live. + +JONATHAN + +It was a terrible feeling. + +NATHANIEL + +I know, but all that's over now; and there's the whole story about the +little hunchback you never were. + +JONATHAN + +[_Hank's whistle is heard. Jonathan rises very quickly and looks at +Nathaniel._ + +NATHANIEL + +He comes every now and then to ask about you and to get something to eat. + +[_Hank whistles again._ + +HANK'S VOICE (_at back_) + +Hi! + +NATHANIEL + +Come in, Hank.-- + +HANK + +Is the old man here? + +NATHANIEL + +No. + +HANK (_Enters through the gateway whistling_) + +Hello, boy. + +JONATHAN + +I'm well now. How are you? + +HANK + +I'm beginning to get cold, so I think I'll go south tomorrow and I thought +I'd drop in to say good-bye. + +NATHANIEL + +I'll give you an overcoat, Hank. + +HANK + +No, thanks. It's too hot to carry it. I'll get one when I really need it, +maybe. + +NATHANIEL + +Well, here's something for you. + +[_He offers him a five dollar bill._ + +Five dollars! No, thanks. If I had that much money I'd lose it maybe. Give +me two bits and call it square. + +[_Nathaniel hands him a quarter._ + +Thanks.... Well... good-bye.... I'm glad your back wasn't broke. + +JONATHAN + +Good-bye, Hank. + +HANK + +Good-bye, Mister.... I'll see you next year maybe, when it's warm.--Say, +kid, I'd like to see that _Zenobia_ show again:--"Hail, noble duke," "All's +well, Irene." "Not very well, noble duke." + +[_He goes out, chuckling to himself._ + +_Aunt Letitia enters. As usual she has something to keep her hands busy. +She seats herself comfortably in a chair that custom has evidently made her +very own. In her work she shows the effect of time upon her eyes and she +may feel a tiny draught that causes her to close the doors behind her and +draw her scarf a bit more closely about her. Never has Aunt Letitia seemed +more successfully the poor relation._ + +LETITIA + +I thought you were out with John. + +NATHANIEL + +No. + +[_Jonathan is looking at the manuscript._ + +LETITIA (_to Jonathan_) + +How do you feel, dear? + +JONATHAN + +Fine;... I think I'll go in the house and read this. + +(_To Nathaniel_) + +I'm glad it isn't true. + +[_He goes out._ + +NATHANIEL + +It's the story of his delirium. I thought it would interest him--and +relieve him. + +LETITIA + +Has John gone? + +NATHANIEL + +Only for a stroll--the doctor's orders. + +LETITIA + +Well? + +NATHANIEL + +Well? + +LETITIA + +Sit down. + +NATHANIEL + +In John's chair? + +LETITIA + +If you wish. + +NATHANIEL + +John's chair! The throne of the head of the family! (_He sits in John's +chair_) Well? + +LETITIA + +Nathaniel dear, you are making John very unhappy. + +NATHANIEL + +And John has made me very unhappy, dearest Aunt Letty. + +LETITIA + +The feeling at the dinner table was almost unbearable tonight. There we sat +strained and silent. + +NATHANIEL + +I am sorry. I try to avoid meals with John as much as possible. + +LETITIA + +You've been here eight weeks and John and I know nothing of you. For me it +is enough that you are here; but John is the head of the family and he +feels that you ought to treat him with greater deference. + +NATHANIEL + +It is revolting to me to have a tsar in the family. + +LETITIA + +Your father and your father's father and grandfather were rulers of the +Clay family. + +NATHANIEL + +I don't question that. + +LETITIA + +You can't change John. + +NATHANIEL + +I don't want to change John. + +LETITIA + +Then why not tell him something about yourself? + +NATHANIEL + +It is none of John's affairs how or why I live. It is none of his affair +how or why or when I shall marry Mlle. Perrault. + +LETITIA + +Perhaps not. + +NATHANIEL + +When I tell him anything, Aunt Letty, it will be one thing--I have stayed +here because I love Jonathan, because he needs me. And I have listened to +the boy's fears and to his hopes as they came out of his poor tortured +little soul in his delirium. I have watched him during his convalescence, +and I see in him a growing man in prison. John sees in him only the +potential head of the family; but he is my flesh and blood as much as he is +John's and I intend to set him free. + +LETITIA + +My beloved Nathaniel, John will not give Jonathan up to you. + +NATHANIEL + +I don't want Jonathan unless he wants to come to me, but I do want +Jonathan's freedom. + +LETITIA + +Isn't he a bit young to have _freedom_. + +NATHANIEL + +Aunt Letitia, I don't mean a silly license.--I mean freedom. If you are +cultivating a peach-tree you don't expect oranges on it even if it could +wish to be an orange tree, but you can help to make it bear better peaches. +Jonathan isn't a mechanical business person. His bent is in another +direction. + +LETITIA + +What are you going to do? + +NATHANIEL + +Frankly, I do not know. + +[_Up to window._ + +All I know now is that I shall stay here until I find a plan. + +[_Jonathan enters._ + +JONATHAN + +Where is Uncle John? + +NATHANIEL + +He has gone for a stroll. + +LETITIA + +What do you want, my dear? + +JONATHAN + +Uncle John sent word that he wanted to see me here at 7:30. + +[_Letitia and Nathaniel look at each other._ + +_Jonathan takes out a large silver watch._ + +It's 7:29 now. + +NATHANIEL + +John will be on time--count sixty slowly-- + +[_John enters. He is rather pale, seems pre-occupied and even more +unapproachable than ever._ + +LETITIA + +Did you have a pleasant stroll? + +JOHN + +I wasn't walking. + +LETITIA + +I shall go into the house, I think. + +JOHN + +No, Aunt Letitia, I would rather you'd wait, if you please. + +[_Nathaniel is an interested spectator. He cannot understand why Jonathan +should be present for what will probably be an eventful family scene._ + +Nathaniel, will you sit down? + +NATHANIEL + +Certainly.--Where? + +JOHN (_tartly_) + +Would you like my chair? + +NATHANIEL + +Thank you. + +[_He sits in John's chair, much to John's annoyance._ + +JOHN + +Jonathan, sit down. + +[_Jonathan sits. John also sits. Aunt Letitia knows what to expect. +Nathaniel is more curious than angry. Jonathan is attending his first +family conference._ + +Jonathan, I've sent for you because I want to talk to you seriously. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +Do you think the boy is strong enough? + +JOHN + +The doctor told me today that he would be quite equal to it.... Eight weeks +ago, Jonathan, you made an effort to run away from your home, because I +punished you. In your foolish defiance of all family authority you suffered +a fall that might have resulted in a lasting and serious injury. +Fortunately you have recovered fully from the result of your fall. + +NATHANIEL + +Excuse me, John, but all of us know this. + +JOHN + +One moment, please, Nathaniel.... I have now arranged that you begin your +preparation for your life work immediately. You will leave for Somerset +School the day after tomorrow. + +JONATHAN (_desperately_) + +Uncle John, I don't want to go to Somerset School. + +JOHN + +You will leave for Somerset day after tomorrow. Good night, Jonathan. + +NATHANIEL + +Why Somerset? + +JOHN + +Good night, Jonathan. + +[_Jonathan, dazed, goes out._ + +NATHANIEL + +Jonathan will never go to Somerset School. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, you forfeited your rights in the family councils when you ran +away from home seventeen years ago. + +NATHANIEL + +This boy will run away again and again and I mean to save him from what I +have suffered, if I can. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, by what right do you attempt to interfere with my decisions? + +NATHANIEL + +By the right of blood and understanding. + +JOHN + +Blood and understanding? Where were you when Emily had to leave her husband +and brought her boy into my home? Where were you when Emily died? I took +Emily in and I took her boy in. As head of the family it was my duty to do +so and as head of the family it is my duty to see that the boy is brought +up in the best traditions of the family. + +NATHANIEL + +John, you can't force this boy into a mold. + +JOHN + +A boy of fourteen doesn't know his mind.... Do _you_ know what Jonathan +wants to be? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, a writer of plays, a theatre director, and an actor. + +JOHN + +Imagine!... And I suppose you encouraged him. + +NATHANIEL + +No, but I didn't discourage him. The selection was wide enough for him to +find some lasting life work. + +JOHN + +He never told me he wanted to be an actor. + +NATHANIEL + +Oh, my brother, every growing boy has a deep secret wish that he cannot +bring himself to disclose! As you know, I always wanted to be a writer, but +most of all I wanted to be a left-handed base ball pitcher. And although +I'm irretrievably right handed I used to practice--religiously--pitching +with my left hand. + +JOHN + +That was juvenile foolishness. + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, but it was genuine. + +[_John starts to speak._ + +What am I now? I am going to tell you, John--by and by. First, we must +dispose of the boy. + +JOHN + +I shall decide about the boy. + +NATHANIEL + +No, John; the boy must decide for himself. + +JOHN + +He'd decide to be an actor. + +NATHANIEL + +If he did, what of it? + +JOHN + +I want members of my family to do useful work. + +NATHANIEL + +What _is_ useful work? An actor serves his purpose just as a plumber or +lawyer serves his.... The only difference is that all of us are not +plumbers or lawyers while all of us _are_ actors. Yes, John, we're all +playing something--you are playing at head of the family, I'm-- + +JOHN + +Still I do not regard acting as a worth-while or lucrative profession. + +NATHANIEL + +You never know, John.... Five generations ago the Clays were respectable +carpenters. They weren't wealthy and they gave no promise of becoming +wealthy. Then suddenly our revered ancestor became a successful maker of +cypress drain pipes--sewer pipes, I think we used to call them! The family +fortunes were founded!! Our ancestor bought a high hat and the esteem of +his neighbors. Cypress was in time replaced by pottery. Conduits for wires +and terra cotta building materials were added to our achievements and then +in your regime superfine sewers became a specialty. + +JOHN + +Every kind of concrete work! + +NATHANIEL + +I beg your pardon! Concrete sewers and other concrete things.--Such is the +foundation of the family. + +JOHN + +You are evidently ashamed of our business. + +NATHANIEL + +Not at all, but I cannot consider the manufacturing of sewers a greater +achievement than acting. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, are you an actor? + +NATHANIEL + +No. + +JOHN + +What are you? + +NATHANIEL + +For the present I am Jonathan's uncle. + +JOHN + +You have nothing to do with Jonathan. + +NATHANIEL + +The boy is not going to Somerset School. + +JOHN + +Nathaniel, I shall not tolerate your interference. Now I must ask you to +leave this house. + +NATHANIEL + +What? + +LETITIA + +John... Nathaniel... my boys, it isn't my way to interfere; but please for +my sake, for your mother's sake--think what you're doing. + +JOHN (_With some tenderness he lays his hand on Letitia's_) + +I have thought, Aunt Letitia. I can not allow this boy's life to be ruined +as Emily's and Henry's and Nathaniel's were. + +NATHANIEL + +Ruined? John, I'll tell you how ruined my life has been and I'll tell you +in terms you'll understand. My income last year was over $350,000! + +JOHN + +Are you acting now? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, I'm acting--I'm acting in terms that you will understand.... You know +that I'm your brother Nathaniel. Do you know who else I am? I am a writer +and a playwright and a director in the United Baking Company and a +stockholder in the National Munitions Company--munitions, John; think of +it, millions, millions in them--and I'm willing and eager to take Emily's +boy and educate him in the way he wants to live his life. + +JOHN + +What are these heroics? + +NATHANIEL + +I mean what I say. If need be I shall use brute force, financial force or +any kind of force to free Jonathan from the misery that I endured in this +house. + +JOHN + +You had everything you wanted. + +NATHANIEL + +Everything except freedom to think my own thoughts. John, some people are +like reinforced concrete. Someone builds the iron frame and the wooden +molds, then pours the cement and when it has hardened, the molds are +removed and lo, you have a monolith--a solid unchangeable stone. + +JOHN + +You talk very well, Nathaniel, but I shall insist upon bringing up my +sister's child in my way. + +NATHANIEL + +Would you have him run away as I did? + +JOHN + +He will never run away again. He has had his lesson. + +[_Jonathan enters carrying a suit case._ + +JONATHAN + +May I speak to you, Uncle John? + +JOHN + +What are you doing with that suit case? + +JONATHAN + +I'm going away. + +JOHN + +Who gave you permission? + +JONATHAN + +Nobody.... I've been thinking since a little while ago and at first I +thought I'd run away again; but that wouldn't be quite fair--so I came to +tell you. + +JOHN + +Take that suit case back into the house. + +JONATHAN + +No, sir! I'm going and nobody can keep me here unless they tie me. + +JOHN + +Well, I'll tell you one thing--if you leave this house without my +permission I'll cut you off without a penny and you'll never be allowed to +come back again. + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. I know that; but I'm going and I came to tell you good-bye. + +JOHN + +Very well. You've made your choice--and I never want to see you again as +long as you live. Good-bye, Jonathan. Good-bye, Nathaniel. + +LETITIA + +John, don't say things you'll regret. Jonathan doesn't mean what he's +saying. + +JONATHAN + +Yes'm, I do mean what I say. + +JOHN + +Good night. + +[_He goes out._ + +LETITIA + +Boys, you are so hot-headed--so much alike.... + +NATHANIEL + +You dear, you have always been content to compromise while we two must go +our own ways or not at all. You go to John. Help him as you can. He's not a +bad man--he's just a structure of reinforced concrete. You love John and he +in his way loves you. Go to John and comfort his outraged authority. + +LETITIA + +I'm sorry things have turned out this way. (_She kisses them_) Good night, +my dears. Wait until morning if you can, my darling Nathaniel. + +[_She goes out._ + +NATHANIEL + +Now you've done it! + +JONATHAN + +I couldn't help it. + +NATHANIEL + +What are you going to do? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know.... They say there's plenty of work on farms. + +NATHANIEL + +You can't write if you work on a farm. + +JONATHAN + +I can earn some more money and save. Other boys have worked their way +through school and college. I can do that. + +NATHANIEL + +Of course--that is a way out of it. Yes... of course.... + +[_Nathaniel opens the back doors and sees the thinnest crescent moon +hanging in the sky._ + +The new moon.... They say if you make a wish on the new moon it will come +true. + +JONATHAN + +You have to see it over your right shoulder. + +NATHANIEL + +You saw it over your right shoulder. + +JONATHAN + +I don't believe that, do you? + +NATHANIEL + +Well, suppose it were true, what would you wish? + +JONATHAN + +You mean for right away? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes. + +JONATHAN [_carefully looking over his right shoulder._ + +I'd wish to be with you. + +NATHANIEL + +More than anything? + +JONATHAN + +Yes, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +More than being a writer or a theatre director or an actor? + +JONATHAN + +Oh, yes, I'm too young to start right away. I have to have an education +first. + +NATHANIEL + +Suppose that wish couldn't be, then what would you wish? + +JONATHAN + +That you'd write me long letters and let me write you long letters. + +[_Takes up his suit case._ + +I'd better be going now. + +NATHANIEL + +Aren't you going to tell John and Aunt Letitia good-bye? + +JONATHAN + +No, sir. I don't think I'd better. Uncle John doesn't care and Aunt Letitia +will understand. + +NATHANIEL + +Yes, she always understands somehow. + +JONATHAN + +Good-bye, sir. + +NATHANIEL + +Jonathan, suppose we go away together. I'm not wanted and you're not +wanted. + +JONATHAN + +You're going to Paris to marry Mlle. Perrault! + +NATHANIEL + +Would you let me be your father, Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +Sir? + +NATHANIEL + +You shall go to the schools where you will find the work you want.... Will +you be my son? + +JONATHAN + +Do you like me that much? + +NATHANIEL + +I like you more than that much. You'll get some long trousers and we'll +plan and plan. Suppose we run away together. + +JONATHAN + +Do you think we ought to leave some word, Uncle Nathaniel? + +NATHANIEL + +Of course. How stupid of me. + +JONATHAN + +You write it. + +NATHANIEL + +No, we'll both write it. + +JONATHAN + +I don't know what to say. I've only run away once. + +NATHANIEL + +So have I. + +JONATHAN + +Did you ever run away? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes--when I was eighteen. + +JONATHAN + +Oh! + +NATHANIEL (_taking up paper_) + +The message ought to be short. + +JONATHAN + +Why did you run away? + +NATHANIEL + +I wanted to write. + +JONATHAN + +You did! + +NATHANIEL + +Didn't you know I ran away? + +JONATHAN + +No, sir; they never would tell me what became of you. + +NATHANIEL + +They didn't know. + +JONATHAN + +How could you keep it from them? + +NATHANIEL + +I changed my name--Mr. Alexander Jefferson, Sr! What shall I say? + +JONATHAN + +I can't think.... Did Uncle John lock you in? + +NATHANIEL + +No, I just ran away. + +JONATHAN + +How long did it take you to make up your mind to go? + +NATHANIEL + +I thought about it first when I was twelve. My father was still living +then. + +JONATHAN + +Did you go to Somerset School? + +NATHANIEL + +Yes--for three years. + +JONATHAN + +What did you do after you ran away? + +NATHANIEL + +I had a very hard time, my boy--at first. I worked at anything I could get, +then I got into a newspaper office, then I wrote "autobiographies" of +famous men. + +JONATHAN + +I thought you had to write your own autobiography-- + +NATHANIEL + +Not nowadays. Then I wrote some successful short stories, then some very +successful long ones--and now I am independent; but it took me ten bitter +years to make my first success.... What shall I write here? + +JONATHAN + +I never could think of things to say when I was going away. + +NATHANIEL + +Neither could I. + +JONATHAN + +Don't you think "good-bye" would be enough? + +NATHANIEL (_writing_) + +Capital.... "Good-Bye--Nathaniel." Now you sign it. + +JONATHAN (_Signs_) + +"Jonathan."... Maybe we ought to put a line under it so Aunt Letitia won't +feel so bad. + +NATHANIEL (_makes a line_) + +Dear Aunt Letitia will understand. She is the blessed kind who always does. +Now, where shall we put it?... On John's chair, and maybe he'll understand +too. + +[_He pins the note to John's chair._ + +JONATHAN + +Don't you want to pack your things? + +NATHANIEL + +I'll wire for them. + +[_Susan enters._ + +On second thought, I'll ask Aunt Letitia to send them. + +[_He goes out._ + +JONATHAN + +Hello, Susan. + +SUSAN + +Jonathan, I just saw Miss Letitia and she was crying.... What's the matter? + +JONATHAN + +I'm going away, Susan. + +SUSAN + +Where are you going? + +JONATHAN + +I'm going with Uncle Nathaniel. I'm going to be his son. And I'm going to a +fine prep. school and learn to write and do what I like. + +SUSAN + +When are you coming back? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know. When I'm older maybe. + +SUSAN + +Can't we write any more songs? + +JONATHAN + +I'll send some words to you in letters. + +SUSAN + +Will you write every week? + +JONATHAN + +Yes.... Will you? + +SUSAN + +Yes. I wish I was going, too. + +JONATHAN + +So do I. + +SUSAN + +Maybe I'll come to see you graduate. + +JONATHAN + +That will be fine! + +SUSAN (_She kisses him very simply_) + +Good-bye, Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +Good-bye, Susan. + +SUSAN + +I can hardly wait until you graduate. + +JONATHAN + +Neither can I.... Good-bye. + +[_Nathaniel enters._ + +NATHANIEL + +On third thought, I decided to wire for my things. + +SUSAN + +Good-bye, Mr. Nathaniel. I hope you'll have a nice time. + +NATHANIEL + +Good-bye, Susan. + +[_He kisses her. She goes out._ + +JONATHAN + +Good-bye, Susan. + +SUSAN (_calling_) + +Send me some picture postcards, Jonathan. + +JONATHAN + +I will. + +[_He watches her._ + +NATHANIEL (_Goes to window_) + +Don't you want to make your wish on the new moon, Jonathan? + +JONATHAN + +I don't know what to wish now. The only one I could think of has come true. + +NATHANIEL + +Good... come, my boy. + +JONATHAN + +I'll write a long letter to Susan Sample every week. + +NATHANIEL + +You can write her a long letter from New York. + +JONATHAN + +And I can send her picture postcards from every place we go to. + +[_Arm in arm they go out talking._ + + +_The Curtain Falls._ + + + + +APPENDIX + +A. M. PALMER--AUTHOR'S MATINEES + + _Madison Square Theater_ 1887 + + MARJORIE'S LOVERS _Brander Matthews_ + ELAINE (from Tennyson) _G. P. Lathrop_ + A FOREGONE CONCLUSION _W. D. Howells_ + + +THE THEATER OF ARTS AND LETTERS + + _23rd Street Theater_ 1891 + + GILES COREY _Mary E. Wilkins_ + SQUIRREL INN (from Frank Stockton) _Frank Presbrey_ + THE OTHER WOMAN _Richard Harding Davis_ + HARVEST _Clyde Fitch_ + + THE DECISION OF THE COURT _Brander Matthews_ + _Frederick J. Stimson_ + + +THE CRITERION INDEPENDENT THEATER + + _Madison Square Theater_ 1897 + + _Berkeley Lyceum_ + + JOHN GABRIEL BJORKMAN _Ibsen_ + {THE RIGHTS OF THE SOUL _Giacosa_ + {THAT OVERCOAT _Augustus Thomas_ + {FROM A CLEAR SKY _Henri Dumay_ + EL GRAN GALEOTO _Echegaray_ + + +THE INDEPENDENT THEATER + + _Carnegie Lyceum_ 1899 + + EL GRAN GALEOTO _Echegaray_ + TIES _Hervieu_ + THE MASTER BUILDER _Ibsen_ + THE STORM _Ostrovsky_ + THE HEATHER FIELD _Martyn_ + A TROUBADOUR _Coppe_ + + +THE NEW THEATER + + 1909--1911 + + _First Season_ + + ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA _Shakespeare_ + THE COTTAGE IN THE AIR _Knoblauch_ + STRIFE _Galsworthy_ + THE NIGGER _Sheldon_ + THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL _Sheridan_ + {LIZ THE MOTHER _Fenn and Bryce_ + {DON _Besier_ + TWELFTH NIGHT _Shakespeare_ + THE WITCH (adapted from Scandinavian by _Hagadorn Wiers-Jenssen_) + {BRAND (act IV condensed) _Ibsen_ + {SISTER BEATRICE _Maeterlinck_ + THE WINTER'S TALE _Shakespeare_ + BEETHOVEN _Fauchois_ + +_Second Season_ + + THE BLUE BIRD _Maeterlinck_ + THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR _Shakespeare_ + THE THUNDERBOLT _Pinero_ + {DON _Besier_ + {SISTER BEATRICE _Maeterlinck_ + MARY MAGDALENE _Maeterlinck_ + OLD HEIDELBERG _Meyer-Foerster_ + VANITY FAIR _R. Hichens and C. Gordan Lennox_ + THE PIPER _Marks_ + NOBODY'S DAUGHTER _Paston_ + THE ARROW MAKER _Austin_ + + In addition there was a borrowed production of + + A SONG OF THE PEOPLE _Michaelis_ + + +MISS GRACE GEORGE--THE PLAYHOUSE + + _The Playhouse_ 1915-1917 + + _1st Season_ + + THE NEW YORK IDEA _Mitchell_ + THE LIARS _Jones_ + EARTH _Fagan_ + MAJOR BARBARA _Shaw_ + CAPTAIN BRASSBOUND'S CONVERSION _Shaw_ + +_2nd Season_ + + EVE'S DAUGHTER _Ramsey_ + ELEVATION _Bernstein_ + + +WASHINGTON SQUARE PLAYERS[7] + + _Bandbox and Comedy Theaters_ 1915-1917 + + INTERIOR _Maeterlinck_ + EUGENICALLY SPEAKING _Goodman_ + LICENSED _Lawrence_ + ANOTHER INTERIOR + LOVE OF ONE'S NEIGHBOR _Andreyev_ + MOONDOWN _Reed_ + MY LADY'S HONOR _Pemberton_ + TWO BLIND BEGGARS AND ONE LESS BLIND _Moeller_ + THE SHEPHERD IN THE DISTANCE (pantomime) _Hudson_ + THE MIRACLE OF ST. ANTONY _Maeterlinck_ + IN APRIL _Stokes_ + FORBIDDEN FRUIT _Feuillet_ + SAVIOURS _Goodman_ + THE BEAR _Tchekhov_ + HELENA'S HUSBAND _Moeller_ + FIRE AND WATER _White_ + THE ANTICK _Mackaye_ + A NIGHT OF SNOWS _Bracco_ + LITERATURE _Schnitzler_ + THE HONOURABLE LOVER _Bracco_ + WHIMS _Musset_ + OVERTONES _Gerstenberg_ + THE CLOD _Beach_ + THE ROAD-HOUSE IN ARDEN _Moeller_ + THE TENOR _Wedekind_ + THE RED CLOAK (pantomime) _Meyer_ + CHILDREN _Bolton and Carlton_ + THE AGE OF REASON _Dorrian_ + THE MAGICAL CITY _Akins_ + _Monsieur Pierre Patelin_ + AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE _Maeterlinck_ + THE SEA GULL _Tchekhov_ + A MERRY DEATH _Evreinev_ + LOVER'S LUCK _Porto-Riche_ + THE SUGAR HOUSE _Brown_ + SISTERS OF SUSANNA _Moeller_ + BUSHIDO _Izumo_ + TRIFLES _Glaspell_ + ANOTHER WAY OUT _Langner_ + ALTRUISM _Ettlinger_ + THE DEATH OF TINTAGILES _Maeterlinck_ + THE LAST STRAW _Crocker_ + THE HERO OF SANTA MARIA _Goodman and Hecht_ + IMPUDENCE _Auernheimer_ + PLOTS AND PLAYWRIGHTS _Massey_ + THE LIFE OF MAN _Andreyev_ + SGANARELLE _Moliere_ + THE POOR FOOL _Bahr_ + GHOSTS _Ibsen_ + PARIAH _Strindberg_ + + +REPERTORY OF THE STUART WALKER COMPANY + + THE TRIMPLET _Walker_ + A FAN AND TWO CANDLESTICKS _Macmillan_ + SIX WHO PASS WHILE THE LENTILS BOIL _Walker_ + THE SEVEN GIFTS (a pantomime) _Walker_ + THE MOON LADY (a pantomime) _Walker_ + NEVERTHELESS _Walker_ + GAMMER GURTON'S NEEDLE (adapted by Mr. Walker) _Stevenson_ + THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE _Walker_ + THE GOLDEN DOOM _Dunsany_ + VOICES _Flexner_ + THE CRIER BY NIGHT _Bottomley_ + THE GODS OF THE MOUNTAIN _Dunsany_ + THE MEDICINE SHOW _Walker_ + THE VERY NAKED BOY _Walker_ + THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA (from Oscar Wilde's Story) _Walker_ + KING ARGIMENES AND THE UNKNOWN WARRIOR _Dunsany_ + IT PAYS TO ADVERTISE _Megrue_ + THE DUMMY _O'Higgins and Ford_ + THE CONCERT _Bahr_ + KICK IN _Mack_ + SEVENTEEN _Walker_ + SEVEN KEYS TO BALDPATE _Cohan_ + THE COUNTRY BOY _Selwyn_ + YOU NEVER CAN TELL _Shaw_ + OFFICER 666 _McHugh_ + BROADWAY JONES _Cohan_ + THE WOMAN _DeMille_ + THE SHOW SHOP _Forbes_ + A NIGHT IN AVIGNON _Rice_ + THE SON OF ISIS _Kelly_ + STINGY _Parry_ + THE BOOK OF JOB + ROMANCE _Sheldon_ + STOP THIEF _Moore_ + THE HERO _Brown_ + THE MISLEADING LADY _Goddard and Dickey_ + ALIAS JIMMY VALENTINE (from O. Henry's story) _Armstrong_ + PASSERS BY _Chambers_ + SEVEN UP _Coleman_ + THE THREE OF US _Crothers_ + THE FORTUNE HUNTER _Smith_ + ALICE SIT BY THE FIRE _Barrie_ + THE WORKHOUSE WARD _Gregory_ + THE WOLF _Walter_ + THE TRUTH _Fitch_ + JONATHAN MAKES A WISH _Walker_ + THE LAUGHTER OF THE GODS _Dunsany_ + THE TENTS OF THE ARABS _Dunsany_ + THE CINDERELLA MAN _Carpenter_ + GOOD GRACIOUS ANNABELLE _Kummer_ + LEAH KLESCHNA _MacClellan_ + OVER NIGHT _Bartholomae_ + THE PASSING OF THE THIRD FLOOR BACK _Jerome_ + MILESTONES _Bennett and Knoblock_ + KISMET _Knoblock_ + DON _Besier_ + THE GIBSON UPRIGHT _Tarkington and Ailson_ + THE MURDERERS _Dunsany_ + TOO MANY COOKS _Craven_ + + * * * * * + +CASTS + +THE LADY OF THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE + +CAST FOR OPENING + + + O-SODE _Harrie Fumade_ + O-KATSU _Annie Lowry_ + OBAA-SAN _Florence Wollersen_ + THE GAKI OF KOKORU _McKay Morris_ + AOYAGI _Nancy Winston_ + RIKI _Wilmot Heitland_ + + +THE VERY NAKED BOY + +CAST FOR OPENING + + HE _Willard Webster_ + SHE _Dorothea Carothers_ + BOY _Gregory Kelly_ + + +JONATHAN MAKES A WISH + +NEW YORK CAST + + AUNT LETITIA _Elizabeth Patterson_ + SUSAN SAMPLE _Beatrice Maude_ + UNCLE NATHANIEL _George Gaul_ + UNCLE JOHN _Ainsworth Arnold_ + JONATHAN _Gregory Kelly_ + MLLE. PERRAULT _Margaret Mower_ + HANK _Edgar Stehli_ + ALBERT PEET _Joseph Graham_ + MARY _Elizabeth Black_ + JOHN III _John Talbott_ + +First produced at the _Murat Theatre_, Indianapolis, August 12, 1918. + +At the _Princess Theatre_, New York premiere, September 11, 1918, Elizabeth +Patterson played Aunt Letitia, which was played in Indianapolis by Judith +Lowry. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[7] Taken from Prof. Dickenson's book, "The Insurgent Theater," in which a +number of interesting and more recent repertories of "independent" theaters +are given. + + + + +A SELECTED LIST + +OF + +DRAMATIC LITERATURE + +[Illustration] + +PUBLISHED BY +STEWART & KIDD COMPANY +CINCINNATI + + * * * * * + +DRAMATIC LITERATURE + + +_European Theories of the Drama_ + + _An Anthology of Dramatic Theory and Criticism from + Aristotle to the Present Day, in a Series of Selected + Texts, with Commentaries, Biographies and + Bibliographies_ + + By BARRETT H. CLARK + + _Author of_ "Contemporary French Dramatists," "The + Continental Drama of Today," "British and American + Drama of Today," etc., etc. + +A book of paramount importance. This monumental anthology brings together +for the first time the epoch-making theories and criticisms of the drama +which have affected our civilization from the beginnings in Greece down to +the present day. Beginning with Aristotle, each utterance on the subject +has been chosen with reference to its importance, and its effect on +subsequent dramatic writing. The texts alone would be of great interest and +value, but the author, Barrett H. Clark, has so connected each period by +means of inter-chapters that his comments taken as a whole constitute a +veritable history of dramatic criticism, in which each text bears out his +statements. + +Nowhere else is so important a body of doctrine on the subject of the drama +to be obtained. It cannot fail to appeal to any one who is interested in +the theater, and will be indispensable to students. + +The introduction to each section of the book is followed by an exhaustive +bibliography; each writer whose work is represented is made the subject of +a brief biography, and the entire volume is rendered doubly valuable by the +index, which is worked out in great detail. + +_Prof. Brander Matthews_ of Columbia University says: "Mr. Clark deserves +high praise for the careful thoroughness with which he has performed the +task he set for himself. He has done well what was well worth doing. In +these five hundred pages he has extracted the essence of several five-foot +shelves. His anthology will be invaluable to all students of the principles +of playmaking; and it ought to be welcomed by all those whose curiosity has +been aroused by the frequent references of our latter day theorists of the +theater to their predecessors." + +_Wm. Lyon Phelps_ of Yale University writes: "Mr. Clark's book, 'European +Theories of the Drama,' is an exceedingly valuable work and ought to be +widely useful." + +_Large 8vo, 500 pages Net, $3.50_ + + * * * * * + +_Plays and Players_ + +LEAVES FROM A CRITIC'S SCRAPBOOK + +BY WALTER PRICHARD EATON PREFACE BY BARRETT H. CLARK + +A new volume of criticisms of plays and papers on acting, playmaking, and +other dramatic problems, by Walter Prichard Eaton, dramatic critic, and +author of "The American Stage of Today," "At the New Theater and Others," +"Idyl of the Twin Fires," etc. The new volume begins with plays produced as +far back as 1910, and brings the record down to the current year. One +section is devoted to American plays, one to foreign plays acted on our +stage, one to various revivals of Shakespeare. These sections form a record +of the important activities of the American theater for the past six years, +and constitute about half of the volume. The remainder of the book is given +over to various discussions of the actor's art, of play construction, of +the new stage craft, of new movements in our theater, such as the +Washington Square Players, and several lighter essays in the satiric vein +which characterized the author's work when he was the dramatic critic of +the _New York Sun_. Unlike most volumes of criticisms, this one is +illustrated, the pictures of the productions described in the text +furnishing an additional historical record. At a time when the drama is +regaining its lost position of literary dignity it is particularly fitting +that dignified and intelligent criticism and discussion should also find +accompanying publication. + +_Toronto Saturday Night_: + + Mr. Eaton writes well and with dignity and + independence. His book should find favor with the more + serious students of the Drama of the Day. + +_Detroit Free Press_: + + This is one of the most interesting and also valuable + books on the modern drama that we have encountered in + that period popularly referred to as "a dog's age." Mr. + Eaton is a competent and well-esteemed critic. The book + is a record of the activities of the American stage + since 1910, down to the present. Mr. Eaton succinctly + restores the play to the memory, revisualizes the + actors, and puts the kernel of it into a nutshell for + us to ponder over and by which to correct our + impressions. + +_Large 12mo. About 420 pages, 10 full-page illustrations on Cameo Paper and +End Papers Net $2.00_ + +_Gilt top. 3/4 Maroon Turkey Morocco Net 6.50_ + + * * * * * + +_Four Plays of the Free Theater_ + +Francois de Curel's _The Fossils_ + +Jean Jullien's _The Serenade_ + +Georges de Porto-Riche's _Francoise' Luck_ + +Georges Ancey's _The Dupe_ + +_Translated with an introduction on Antoine and Theatre Libre by BARRETT H. +CLARK. Preface by BRIEUX, of the French Academy, and a Sonnet by EDMOND +ROSTAND._ + +_The Review of Reviews says_: + + "A lengthy introduction, which is a gem of condensed + information." + +_H. L. Mencken (in the Smart Set) says_: + + "Here we have, not only skilful playwriting, but also + sound literature." + +_Brander Matthews says_: + + "The book is welcome to all students of the modern + stage. It contains the fullest account of the + activities of Antoine's Free Theater to be found + anywhere--even in French." + +_The Chicago Tribune says_: + + "Mr. Clark's translations, with their accurate and + comprehensive prefaces, are necessary to anyone + interested in modern drama.... If the American reader + will forget Yankee notions of morality... if the reader + will assume the French point of view, this book will + prove a rarely valuable experience. Mr. Clark has done + this important task excellently." + +_Handsomely Bound. 12mo. Cloth Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +DRAMATIC LITERATURE + +_Contemporary French Dramatists_ + +By BARRETT H. CLARK + +_In "Contemporary French Dramatists" Mr. Barrett H. Clark, author of "The +Continental Drama of Today," "The British and American Drama of Today," +translator of "Four Plays of the Free Theater," and of various plays of +Donnay, Hervieu, Lemaitre, Sardou, Lavedan, etc., has contributed the first +collection of studies on the modern French theater. Mr. Clark takes up the +chief dramatists of France beginning with the Theatre-Libre: Curel, Brieux, +Hervieu, Lemaitre, Lavedan, Donnay, Porto-Riche, Rostand, Bataille, +Bernstein, Capus, Flers, and Caillavet. The book contains numerous +quotations from the chief representative plays of each dramatist, a +separate chapter on "Characteristics" and the most complete bibliography to +be found anywhere._ + +_This book gives a study of contemporary drama in France which has been +more neglected than any other European country._ + +_Independent, New York_: + + "Almost indispensable to the student of the theater." + +_Boston Transcript_: + + "Mr. Clark's method of analyzing the works of the + Playwrights selected is simple and helpful. * * * As a + manual for reference or story, 'Contemporary French + Dramatists,' with its added bibliographical material, + will serve well its purpose." + +_Uniform with FOUR PLAYS. Handsomely bound._ + + _Cloth_ _Net, $1.75_ + _3/4 Maroon Turkey Morocco_ _Net, $5.00_ + + +_The Antigone of Sophocles_ + +By PROF. JOSEPH EDWARD HARRY + +_An acting version of this most perfect of all dramas. A scholarly work in +readable English. Especially adaptable for Colleges, Dramatic Societies, +etc._ + +_Post Express_, Rochester: + + "He has done his work well." "Professor Harry has + translated with a virile force that is almost + Shakespearean." "The difficult task of rendering the + choruses into English lyrical verse has been very + creditably accomplished." + +_Argonaut_, San Francisco: + + "Professor Harry is a competent translator not only + because of his classical knowledge, but also because of + a certain enthusiastic sympathy that shows itself in an + unfailing choice of words and expression." + +_North American_, Philadelphia: + + "Professor Harry, teacher of Greek in the Cincinnati + University, has written a new metrical translation of + the Antigone of Sophocles. The translation is of fine + dramatic quality." + +_Oregonian_, Portland: + + "A splendidly executed translation of the celebrated + Greek tragedy." + +_Herald_, Boston: + + "Scholars will not need to be urged to read this + noteworthy piece of literary work, and we hope that + many others who have no special scholarly interest will + be led to its perusal." + + _8vo. cloth. Dignified binding Net, $1.00_ + + * * * * * + +"_European Dramatists_" + +By ARCHIBALD HENDERSON + +_Author of_ "George Bernard Shaw: His Life and Works." + +_In the present work the famous dramatic critic and biographer of Shaw has +considered six representative dramatists outside of the United States, some +living, some dead--Strindberg, Ibsen, Maeterlinck, Wilde, Shaw, Barker, and +Schnitzler._ + +Velma Swanston Howard says: + + "Prof. Henderson's appraisal of Strindberg is certainly + the fairest, kindest and most impersonal that I have + yet seen. The author has that rare combination of + intellectual power and spiritual insight which casts a + clear, strong light upon all subjects under his + treatment." + +_Baltimore Evening Sun_: + + "Prof. Henderson's criticism is not only notable for + its understanding and good sense, but also for the + extraordinary range and accuracy of its information." + +Jeanette L. Gilder, in the _Chicago Tribune_: + + "Henderson is a writer who throws new light on old + subjects." + +_Chicago Record Herald_: + + "His essays in interpretation are welcome. Mr. + Henderson has a catholic spirit and writes without + parochial prejudice--a thing deplorably rare among + American critics of the present day. * * * One finds + that one agrees with Mr. Henderson's main contentions + and is eager to break a lance with him about minor + points, which is only a way of saying that he is + stimulating, that he strikes sparks. He knows his age + thoroughly and lives in it with eager sympathy and + understanding." + +_Providence Journal_: + + "Henderson has done his work, within its obvious + limitations, in an exceedingly competent manner. He has + the happy faculty of making his biographical treatment + interesting, combining the personal facts and a fairly + clear and entertaining portrait of the individual with + intelligent critical comment on his artistic work." + +_Photogravure frontispiece, handsomely printed and bound, large 12mo Net, +$2.00_ + + * * * * * + +_At Last You May Understand G. B. S._ + +Perhaps once in a generation a figure of commanding greatness appears, one +through whose life the history of his time may be read. There is but one +such man today. + +_George Bernard Shaw_ + +HIS LIFE AND WORKS + +A CRITICAL BIOGRAPHY (Authorized) + +By + +ARCHIBALD HENDERSON, M.A. Ph.D. + +Is virtually the story of the social, economic and aesthetic life of the +last twenty-five years. It is a sympathetic, yet independent interpretation +of the most potent individual force in society. Cultivated America will +find here the key to all that is baffling and elusive in Shaw; it is a +cinematographic picture of his mind with a background disclosing all the +formative influences that combined to produce this universal genius. + +_The press of the world has united in its praise; let us send you some of +the comments. It is a large demy 8vo volume cloth, gilt top, 628 pages, +with 35 full page illustrations in color, photogravure and halftone and +numerous pictures in the text._ + +_$5.00 Net_ + + * * * * * + +_The Changing Drama_ + +By ARCHIBALD HENDERSON, M.A. Ph.D. + +_Author of_ "European Dramatists," "George Bernard Shaw--His Life and +Work." Etc. + +A vital book, popular in style, cosmopolitan in tone, appraising the drama +of the past sixty years, its changes, contributions and tendencies. Has an +expression of the larger realities of the art and life of our time. + +_E. E. Hale_ in _The Dial_: "One of the most widely read dramatic critics +of our day; few know as well as he what is 'up' in the dramatic world, what +are the currents of present-day thought, what people are thinking, +dreaming, doing, or trying to do." + +_New York Times_: "Apt, happily allusive, finely informed essays on the +dramatists of our own time--his essay style is vigorous and pleasing." + +_Book News Monthly_: "Shows clear understanding of the evolution of form +and spirit, and the differentiation of the forces--spiritual, intellectual +and social--which are making the theatre what it is today... we can +recollect no book of recent times which has such contemporaneousness, yet +which regards the subject with such excellent perspective... almost +indispensable to the general student of drama... a book of rich perspective +and sound analysis. The style is simple and direct." + +_Geo. Middleton_ in _La Follette's_: "The best attempt to formulate the +tendencies which the drama is now taking in its evolutionary course." + +_Argonaut_: "Marked by insight, discernment and enthusiasm." + +_Large 12mo. Dignified binding Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_Short Plays_ + +By MARY MACMILLAN + +_To fill a long-felt want. All have been successfully presented. Suitable +for Women's Clubs, Girls' Schools, etc. While elaborate enough for big +presentation, they may be given very simply._ + +_Review of Reviews_: + + "Mary MacMillan offers 'SHORT PLAYS,' a collection of + pleasant one to three-act plays for women's clubs, + girls' schools, and home parlor production. Some are + pure comedies, others gentle satires on women's faults + and foibles. 'The Futurists,' a skit on a woman's club + in the year 1882, is highly amusing. 'Entr' Act' is a + charming trifle that brings two quarreling lovers + together through a ridiculous private theatrical. 'The + Ring' carries us gracefully back to the days of + Shakespeare; and 'The Shadowed Star,' the best of the + collection, is a Christmas Eve tragedy. The Star is + shadowed by our thoughtless inhumanity to those who + serve us and our forgetfulness of the needy. The Old + Woman, gone daft, who babbles in a kind of mongrel + Kiltartan, of the Shepherds, the Blessed Babe, of the + Fairies, rowan berries, roses and dancing, while her + daughter dies on Christmas Eve, is a splendid + characterization." + +_Boston Transcript_: + + "Those who consigned the writer of these plays to + solitude and prison fare evidently knew that 'needs + must' is a sharp stimulus to high powers. If we find + humor, gay or rich, if we find brilliant wit; if we + find constructive ability joined with dialogue which + moves like an arrow; if we find delicate and keen + characterization, with a touch of genius in the choice + of names; if we find poetic power which moves on easy + wing--the gentle jailers of the writer are justified, + and the gentle reader thanks their severity." + +_Salt Lake Tribune_: + + "The Plays are ten in number, all of goodly length. We + prophesy great things for this gifted dramatist." + +_Bookseller, News Dealer & Stationer_: + + "The dialogue is permeated with graceful satire, + snatches of wit, picturesque phraseology, and tender, + often exquisite, expressions of sentiment." + +_Handsomely Bound. 12mo. Cloth Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_More Short Plays_ + +BY MARY MacMILLAN + +Plays that act well may read well. Miss MacMillan's plays are good reading. +Nor is literary excellence a detriment to dramatic performance. They were +put on the stage before they were put into print. They differ slightly from +those in the former volume. Two of them, "The Pioneers," a story of the +settlement of the Ohio Valley, and "Honey," a little mountain girl +cotton-mill worker, are longer. The other six, "In Mendelesia," Parts I and +II, "The Dryad," "The Dress Rehearsal of Hamlet," "At the Church," and "His +Second Girl," contain the spirit of humor, something of subtlety, and +something of fantasy. + +_Brooklyn Daily Eagle_: "Mary MacMillan, whose first volume of short plays +proved that she possessed unusual gifts as a dramatist, has justified the +hopes of her friends in a second volume, 'More Short Plays,' which reveal +the author as the possessor of a charming literary style coupled with a +sure dramatic sense that never leads her idea astray.... In them all the +reader will find a rich and delicate charm, a bountiful endowment of humor +and wit, a penetrating knowledge of human nature, and a deft touch in the +drawing of character. They are delicately and sympathetically done and +their literary charm is undeniable." + +_Uniform with "Short Plays" Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_The Gift_ + +A POETIC DRAMA + +By MARGARET DOUGLAS ROGERS + +_A dramatic poem in two acts, treating in altogether new fashion the world +old story of Pandora, the first woman._ + +_New Haven Times Leader_: + + "Well written and attractive." + +_Evangelical Messenger_: + + "A very beautifully written portrayal of the old story + of Pandora." + +_Rochester Post Dispatch_: + + "There is much poetic feeling in the treatment of the + subject." + +_Grand Rapids Herald_: + + "THE GIFT, dealing with this ever interesting + mythological story, is a valuable addition to the + dramas of the day." + +_St. Xavier Calendar_: + + "The story of Pandora is so set down as to bring out + its stage possibilities. Told by Mrs. Rogers in + exquisite language." + +_Salt Lake Tribune_: + + "The tale is charmingly wrought and has possibilities + as a simple dramatic production, as well as being a + delightful morsel of light reading." + +_Cincinnati Enquirer_: + + "The love story is delightfully told and the dramatic + action of the play is swift and strong." + +_Buffalo Express_: + + "It is a delightful bit of fancy with a dramatic and + poetic setting." + +_Boston Woman's Journal_: + + "Epimetheus and Pandora and her box are charmingly + presented." + +_Worcester Gazette_: + + "It is absolutely refreshing to find a writer willing + to risk a venture harking back to the times of the + Muses and the other worthies of mythological fame. * * + * The story of Pandora's box told in verse by a woman. + It may be said it could not have been better written + had a representative of the one who only assisted at + the opening been responsible for the play." + +_Handsomely bound silk cloth Net, $1.00_ + + * * * * * + +_Comedies of Words and Other Plays_ + +BY ARTHUR SCHNITZLER + +TRANSLATED BY PIERRE LOVING + + {"_The Hour of Recognition_" + {"_Great Scenes_" + The contents are {"_The Festival of Bacchus_" + {"_His Helpmate_" + {"_Literature._" + +In his "Comedies of Words," Arthur Schnitzler, the great Austrian +Dramatist, has penetrated to newer and profounder regions of human +psychology. According to Schnitzler, the keenly compelling problems of +earth are: the adjustment of a man to one woman, a woman to one man, the +children to their parents, the artist to life, the individual to his most +cherished beliefs, and how can we accomplish this adjustment when, try as +we please, there is a destiny which sweeps our little plans away like +helpless chessmen from the board? Since the creation of Anatol, that +delightful toy philosopher, so popular in almost every theater of the +world, the great Physician-Dramatist has pushed on both as World-Dramatist +and reconnoiterer beyond the misty frontiers of man's conscious existence. +He has attempted in an artistic way to get beneath what Freud calls the +"Psychic Censor" which edits all our suppressed desires. Reading Schnitzler +is like going to school to Life itself! + +_Bound uniform with the S & K Dramatic Series, Net $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_Lucky Pehr_ + +By AUGUST STRINDBERG + +_Authorized Translation by Velma Swanston Howard. An allegorical drama in +five acts. Compared favorably to Barrie's "Peter Pan" and Maeterlinck's +"The Blue Bird."_ + +_Rochester Post Express_: + + Strindberg has written many plays which might be + described as realistic nightmares. But this remark does + not apply to "Lucky Pehr." * * * This drama is one of + the most favorable specimens of Strindberg's genius. + +_New York World_: + + "Pehr" is lucky because, having tested all things, he + finds that only love and duty are true. + +_New York Times_: + + "Lucky Pehr" clothes cynicism in real entertainment + instead of in gloom. And it has its surprises. Can this + be August Strindberg, who ends his drama so sweetly on + the note of the woman-soul, leading upward and on? + +_Worcester Gazette_: + +From a city of Ohio comes this product of Swedish fancy in most attractive +attire, attesting that the possibilities of dramatic art have not entirely +ceased in this age of vaudeville and moving pictures. A great sermon in +altruism is preached in these pages, which we would that millions might see +and hear. To those who think or would like to think, "Lucky Pehr" will +prove a most readable book. * * * An allegory, it is true, but so are +AEsop's Fables, the Parables of the Scriptures and many others of the most +effective lessons ever given. + +_Boston Globe_: + + A popular drama. * * * There is no doubt about the book + being a delightful companion in the library. In charm + of fancy and grace of imagery the story may not be + unfairly classed with "The Blue Bird" and "Peter Pan." + +_Photogravure frontispiece of Strindberg etched by Zorn. Also, a +reproduction of Velma Swanston Howard's authorization._ + +_Handsomely bound. Gilt top Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_Easter_ + +(A PLAY IN THREE ACTS) + +AND STORIES BY AUGUST STRINDBERG + +_Authorized translation by Velma Swanston Howard. In this work the author +reveals a broad tolerance, a rare poetic tenderness augmented by an almost +divine understanding of human frailties as marking certain natural stages +in evolution of the soul._ + +_Louisville Courier-Journal_: + + Here is a major key of cheerfulness and idealism--a + relief to a reader who has passed through some of the + author's morbid pages. * * * Some critics find in this + play (Easter) less of the thrust of a distinctive art + than is found in the author's more lugubrious dramas. + There is indeed less sting in it. Nevertheless it has a + nobler tone. It more ably fulfills the purpose of good + drama--the chastening of the spectators' hearts through + their participation in the suffering of the dramatic + personages. There is in the play a mystical exaltation, + a belief and trust in good and its power to embrace all + in its beneficence, to bring all confusion to harmony. + +_The Nation_: + + Those who like the variety of symbolism which + Maeterlinck has often employed--most notably in the + "Bluebird"--will turn with pleasure to the short + stories of Strindberg which Mrs. Howard has included in + her volume. * * * They are one and all diverting on + account of the author's facility in dealing with + fanciful details. + +_Bookseller_: + + "Easter" is a play of six characters illustrative of + human frailties and the effect of the divine power of + tolerance and charity. * * * There is a symbolism, a + poetic quality, a spiritual insight in the author's + work that make a direct appeal to the cultured. * * * + +_The Dial_: + + One play from his (Strindberg's) third, or symbolistic + period stands almost alone. This is "Easter." There is + a sweet, sane, life-giving spirit about it. + +_Photogravure frontispiece of Strindberg etched by Zorn. Also, a +reproduction of Velma Swanston Howard's authorization._ + + _Handsomely bound. Gilt top Net, $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_The Hamlet Problem and Its Solution_ + +By EMERSON VENABLE + +_The tragedy of Hamlet has never been adequately interpreted. Two hundred +years of critical discussion has not sufficed to reconcile conflicting +impressions regarding the scope of Shakespeare's design in this, the first +of his great philosophic tragedies. We believe that all those students who +are interested in the study of Shakespeare will find this volume of great +value._ + +_The Louisville Courier-Journal_: + + "Mr. Venable's Hamlet is a 'protagonist of a drama of + triumphant moral achievement.' He rises through the + play from an elected agent of vengeance to a man + gravely impressed with 'an imperative sense of moral + obligation, tragic in its depth, felt toward the + world.'" + +E. H. Sothern: + + "Your ideas of Hamlet so entirely agree with my own + that the book has been a real delight to me. I have + always had exactly this feeling about the character of + Hamlet. I think you have wiped away a great many + cobwebs, and I believe your book will prove to be most + convincing to many people who may yet be a trifle in + the dark." + +_The Book News Monthly_: + + "Mr. Venable is the latest critic to apply himself to + the 'Hamlet' problem, and he offers a solution in an + admirably written little book which is sure to attract + readers. Undeterred by the formidable names of Goethe + and Coleridge, Mr. Venable pronounces untenable the + theories which those great authors propounded to + account for the extraordinary figure of the Prince of + Denmark. * * * Mr. Venable looks in another direction + for the solution of the problem. * * * The solution + offered by the author is just the reverse of that + proposed by Goethe. * * * From Mr. Venable's viewpoint + the key to 'Hamlet' is found in the famous soliloquies, + and his book is based upon a close study of those + utterances which bring us within the portals of the + soul of the real Hamlet. The reader with an open mind + will find in Mr. Venable a writer whose breadth of view + and searching thought gives weight to this competent + study of the most interesting of Shakespearean + problems." + +_16mo. Silk cloth Net, $1.00_ + + * * * * * + +_Portmanteau Plays_ + +BY STUART WALKER + +Edited and with an Introduction by + +EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT + +This volume contains four One Act Plays by the inventor and director of the +Portmanteau Theater. They are all included in the regular repertory of the +Theater and the four contained in this volume comprise in themselves an +evening's bill. + +There is also an Introduction by Edward Hale Bierstadt on the Portmanteau +Theater in theory and practice. + +The book is illustrated by pictures taken from actual presentations of the +plays. + +The first play, the "_Trimplet_," deals with the search for a certain magic +thing called a trimplet which can cure all the ills of whoever finds it. +The search and the finding constitute the action of the piece. + +Second play, "_Six who Pass While the Lentils Boil_" is perhaps the most +popular in Mr. Walker's repertory. The story is of a Queen who, having +stepped on the ring-toe of the King's great-aunt, is condemned to die +before the clock strikes twelve. The Six who pass the pot in which boil the +lentils are on their way to the execution. + +Next comes "_Nevertheless_," which tells of a burglar who oddly enough +reaches regeneration through two children and a dictionary. + +And last of all is the "_Medicine-Show_," which is a character study +situated on the banks of the Mississippi. One does not see either the Show +or the Mississippi, but the characters are so all sufficient that one does +not miss the others. + +All of these plays are fanciful--symbolic if you like--but all of them have +a very distinct raison d'etre in themselves, quite apart from any ulterior +meaning. + +With Mr. Walker it is always "the story first," and herein he is at one +with Lord Dunsany and others of his ilk. The plays have body, force, and +beauty always; and if the reader desires to read in anything else surely +that is his privilege. + +Each play, and even the Theater itself has a prologue, and with the help of +these one is enabled to pass from one charming tale to the next without a +break in the continuity. + +_With five full-page illustrations on cameo paper._ + +_12mo. Silk cloth $1.75_ + + * * * * * + +_The Truth About The Theater_ + +_Anonymous_ + +Precisely what the title indicates--facts as they are, plain and +unmistakable without veneer of any sort. It goes directly to the heart of +the whole matter. Behind the writer of it--who is one of the best known +theatrical men in New York--are long years of experience. He recites what +he knows, what he has seen, and his quiet, calm, authoritative account of +conditions as they are is without adornment, excuse or exaggeration. It is +intended to be helpful to those who want the facts, and for them it will +prove of immeasurable value. + +"The Truth About the Theater," in brief, lifts the curtain on the American +stage. It leaves no phase of the subject untouched. To those who are +ambitious to serve the theater, either as players or as playwrights, or, +again, in some managerial capacity, the book is invaluable. To those, too, +who would know more about the theater that they may come to some fair +estimate of the worth of the innumerable theories nowadays advanced, the +book will again prove its value. + +_Net $1.00_ + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of More Portmanteau Plays, by Stuart Walker + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE PORTMANTEAU PLAYS *** + +***** This file should be named 37967.txt or 37967.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/6/37967/ + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. 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