THE MANAGER
BLUE HOSE
YELLOW HOSE
1ST HERALD
2D HERALD
POMPDEBILE THE EIGHTH, KING OF HEARTS
(pronounced Pomp-_di_biley)
THE CHANCELLOR
THE KNAVE OF HEARTS
URSULA
THE LADY VIOLETTA
SIX LITTLE PAGES
(THE MANAGER _appears before the curtain in doublet and hose. He
carries a cap with a long, red feather._)
THE MANAGER (_bowing deeply_). Ladies and gentlemen, you are about
to hear the truth of an old legend that has persisted wrongly
through the ages, the truth that, until now, has been hid behind
the embroidered curtain of a rhyme, about the Knave of Hearts,
who was no knave but a very hero indeed. The truth, you will
agree with me, gentlemen and most honored ladies, is rare! It is
only the quiet, unimpassioned things of nature that seem what
they are. Clouds rolled in massy radiance against the blue, pines
shadowed deep and darkly green, mirrored in still waters, the
contemplative mystery of the hills--these things which exist,
absorbed but in their own existence--these are the perfect
chalices of truth.
But we, gentlemen and thrice-honored ladies, flounder about in a
tangled net of prejudice, of intrigue. We are blinded by
conventions, we are crushed by misunderstanding, we are
distracted by violence, we are deceived by hypocrisy, until only
too often villains receive the rewards of nobility and the truly
great-hearted are suspected, distrusted, and maligned.
And so, ladies and gentlemen, for the sake of justice and also, I
dare to hope, for your approval, I have taken my puppets down
from their dusty shelves. I have polished their faces, brushed
their clothes, and strung them on wires, so that they may enact
for you this history.
(_He parts the curtains, revealing two_ PASTRY COOKS _in flaring
white caps and spotless aprons leaning over in stiff profile,
their wooden spoons, three feet long, pointing rigidly to the
ceiling. They are in one of the kitchens of_ POMPDEBILE THE
EIGHTH, KING OF HEARTS. _It is a pleasant kitchen, with a row of
little dormer windows and a huge stove, adorned with the crest of_
POMPDEBILE--_a heart rampant, on a gold shield._)
THE MANAGER. You see here, ladies and gentlemen, two pastry cooks
belonging to the royal household of Pompdebile the Eighth--Blue
Hose and Yellow Hose, by name. At a signal from me they will
spring to action, and as they have been made with astonishing
cleverness, they will bear every semblance of life. Happily,
however, you need have no fear that, should they please you, the
exulting wine of your appreciation may go to their heads--their
heads being but things of wire and wood; and happily, too, as
they are but wood and wire, they will be spared the shame and
humiliation that would otherwise be theirs should they fail to
meet with your approval.
The play, most honored ladies and gentlemen, will now begin.
(_He claps his hands. Instantly the two_ PASTRY COOKS _come to life._
THE MANAGER _bows himself off the stage._)
BLUE HOSE. Is everything ready for this great event?
YELLOW HOSE. Everything. The fire blazing in the stove, the
Pages, dressed in their best, waiting in the pantry with their
various jars full of the finest butter, the sweetest sugar, the
hottest pepper, the richest milk, the--
BLUE HOSE. Yes, yes, no doubt. (_Thoughtfully_) It is a great
responsibility, this that they have put on our shoulders.
YELLOW HOSE. Ah, yes. I have never felt more important.
BLUE HOSE. Nor I more uncomfortable.
YELLOW HOSE. Even on the day, or rather the night, when I awoke
and found myself famous--I refer to the time when I laid before
an astonished world my creation, "Humming birds' hearts souffle,
au vin blanc"--I did not feel more important. It is a pleasing
sensation!
BLUE HOSE. I like it not at all. It makes me dizzy, this eminence
on which they have placed us. The Lady Violetta is slim and fair.
She does not, in my opinion, look like the kind of person who is
capable of making good pastry. I have discovered through long
experience that it is the heaviest women who make the lightest
pastry, and _vice versa._ Well, then, suppose that she does
not pass this examination--suppose that her pastry is lumpy,
white like the skin of a boiled fowl.
YELLOW HOSE. Then, according to the law of the Kingdom of Hearts,
we must condemn it, and the Lady Violetta cannot become the bride
of Pompdebile. Back to her native land she will be sent, riding a
mule.
BLUE HOSE. And she is so pretty, so exquisite! What a law! What
an outrageous law!
YELLOW HOSE. Outrageous law! How dare you! There is nothing so
necessary to the welfare of the nation as our art. Good cooks
make good tempers, don't they? Must not the queen set an example
for the other women to follow? Did not our fathers and our
grandfathers before us judge the dishes of the previous queens of
hearts?
BLUE HOSE. I wish I were mixing the rolls for to-morrow's
breakfast.
YELLOW HOSE. Bah! You are fit for nothing else. The affairs of
state are beyond you.
(_Distant sound of trumpets._)
BLUE HOSE (_nervously_). What's that?
YELLOW HOSE. The King is approaching! The ceremonies are about to
commence!
BLUE HOSE. Is everything ready?
YELLOW HOSE. I told you that everything was ready. Stand still;
you are as white as a stalk of celery.
BLUE HOSE (_counting on his fingers_). Apples, lemons, peaches,
jam--Jam! Did you forget jam?
YELLOW HOSE. Zounds, I did!
BLUE HOSE (_wailing_). We are lost!
YELLOW HOSE. She may not call for it.
(_Both stand very erect and make a desperate effort to appear
calm._)
BLUE HOSE (_very nervous_). Which door? Which door?
YELLOW HOSE. The big one, idiot. Be still!
(_The sound of trumpets increases, and cries of "Make way for the
King." Two_ HERALDS _come in and stand on either side of the door.
The_ KING OF HEARTS _enters, followed by ladies and gentlemen of
the court._ POMPDEBILE _is in full regalia, and very imposing
indeed with his red robe bordered with ermine, his crown and
sceptre. After him comes the_ CHANCELLOR, _an old man with a short,
white beard. The_ KING _strides in a particularly kingly fashion,
pointing his toes in the air at every step, toward his throne,
and sits down. The_ KNAVE _walks behind him slowly. He has a sharp,
pale face._)
POMPDEBILE (_impressively_). Lords and ladies of the court, this is
an important moment in the history of our reign. The Lady
Violetta, whom you love and respect--that is, I mean to say, whom
the ladies love and the lords--er--respect, is about to prove
whether or not she be fitted to hold the exalted position of
Queen of Hearts, according to the law, made a thousand years ago
by Pompdebile the Great, and steadily followed ever since. She
will prepare with her own delicate, white hands a dish of pastry.
This will be judged by the two finest pastry cooks in the land.
(BLUE HOSE _and_ YELLOW HOSE _bow deeply._)
If their verdict be favorable, she shall ride through the streets
of the city on a white palfrey, garlanded with flowers. She will
be crowned, the populace will cheer her, and she will reign by
our side, attending to the domestic affairs of the realm, while
we give our time to weightier matters. This of course you all
understand is a time of great anxiety for the Lady Violetta. She
will appear worried--(_To_ CHANCELLOR) The palfrey is in readiness,
we suppose.
CHANCELLOR. It is, Your Majesty.
POMPDEBILE. Garlanded with flowers?
CHANCELLOR. With roses, Your Majesty.
KNAVE (_bowing_). The Lady Violetta prefers violets, Your Majesty.
POMPDEBILE. Let there be a few violets put in with the
roses--er--We are ready for the ceremony to commence. We confess
to a slight nervousness unbecoming to one of our station. The
Lady Violetta, though trying at times, we have found--er--shall
we say--er--satisfying?
KNAVE (_bowing_). Intoxicating, Your Majesty?
CHANCELLOR (_shortly_). His Majesty means nothing of the sort.
POMPDEBILE. No, of course not--er--The mule--Is that--did you--?
CHANCELLOR (_in a grieved tone_). This is hardly necessary. Have I
ever neglected or forgotten any of your commands, Your Majesty?
POMPDEBILE. You have, often. However, don't be insulted. It takes
a great deal of our time and it is most uninteresting.
CHANCELLOR (_indignantly_). I resign, Your Majesty.
POMPDEBILE. Your thirty-seventh resignation will be accepted
to-morrow. Just now it is our wish to begin at once. The anxiety
that no doubt gathered in the breast of each of the seven
successive Pompdebiles before us seems to have concentrated in
ours. Already the people are clamoring at the gates of the palace
to know the decision. Begin. Let the Pages be summoned.
KNAVE (_bowing_). Beg pardon, Your Majesty; before summoning the
Pages, should not the Lady Violetta be here?
POMPDEBILE. She should, and is, we presume, on the other side of
that door--waiting breathlessly.
(THE KNAVE _quietly opens the door and closes it._)
KNAVE (_bowing_). She is not, Your Majesty, on the other side of
that door waiting breathlessly. In fact, to speak plainly, she is
not on the other side of that door at all.
POMPDEBILE. Can that be true? Where are her ladies?
KNAVE. They are all there, Your Majesty.
POMPDEBILE. Summon one of them.
(THE KNAVE _goes out, shutting the door. He returns, following_
URSULA, _who, very much frightened, throws herself at the_ KING'S
_feet._)
POMPDEBILE. Where is your mistress?
URSULA. She has gone, Your Majesty.
POMPDEBILE. Gone! Where has she gone?
URSULA. I do not know, Your Majesty. She was with us a while ago,
waiting there, as you commanded.
POMPDEBILE. Yes, and then--speak.
URSULA. Then she started out and forbade us to go with her.
POMPDEBILE. The thought of possible divorce from us was more than
she could bear. Did she say anything before she left?
URSULA (_trembling_). Yes, Your Majesty.
POMPDEBILE. What was it? She may have gone to self-destruction.
What was it?