for a man of high position.
KWEN-LIN--You sound very like a singing bird.
MANDARIN--Something has broken in their heads. Spring has tangled the
brain threads. It must be Spring!
KWEN-LIN--It is Spring, and soon it will be superb Summer, then Fall,
then Winter. The year gone pff! like that, and miserable life flower
desolated.
MANDARIN--Before the honorable year goes pff! like that, you will be an
exalted wife.
KWEN-LIN--A wife! I, a wife?
MANDARIN--For seventeen years of moons, your nurses and teachers have
polished you into a state of passable excellence. You are very wonderful
as foolish little girls go. You are something of a somebody.
KWEN-LIN--But to what impressive man are my charms to be presented?
MANDARIN--(_Looking at invisible garden._) This late frost will surely
steal the jewels in my garden. The servant Chang must cover the iris. I
can trust Chang.
KWEN-LIN--You marry me to Chang-sut-yen?
MANDARIN--Do I throw my child of five thousand and one delectable graces
into the arms of a servant? I was speaking of my garden.
KWEN-LIN--If I am to wed, let us speak of husbands.
MANDARIN--Ah, many men have sought to wed you, but I have turned their
eyes away, until the sublime one should ask.
KWEN-LIN--To whom do I go?
MANDARIN--To the greatest of all! To be dazzled, to be petted, to be
surrounded by every superior luxury.
KWEN-LIN--(_Impatiently._) To whom do I go?
MANDARIN--There is honor and eminence the alliance will give me, and
money it will add to my already considerable store. We will not, as a
matter of policy, show we are flattered. We will be proud, we will be
haughty, we will drive a shrewd bargain when the wealthy Ta-yin of
Canton would make you his bride.
KWEN-LIN--The Ta-yin of Canton! I will not marry the Ta-yin of Canton!
MANDARIN--What strange words do your lips produce? Does my daughter
oppose her insect mind to mine?
KWEN-LIN--I will not marry the Ta-yin of Canton. He's ugly, he's bold,
he's yellow as--
MANDARIN--Gold!
KWEN-LIN--He shakes when he walks--
MANDARIN--He's a--
KWEN-LIN--Hundred years old! My heart would crack with grief were I to
marry him.
MANDARIN--I never yet heard that any maiden died of grief at the
prospect of being a bride.
KWEN-LIN--Br-r-r-r!
MANDARIN--(_Jumping._) What was that?
KWEN-LIN--My heart cracking. Death is clutching for me.
MANDARIN--(_Wearily._) Go away, Death. Take her, if you must, after she
is wed. The wealthy Ta-yin can better bear the sad expenses.
KWEN-LIN--I'm dying now, dying, dying. It's quite delicious! (_Lies
down. Property Man puts a blue cushion under her head._) I'm almost
dead!
MANDARIN--You can't die like this. It's most absurd, besides being
unbeautiful.
KWEN-LIN--Have no fear, my death will be magnificently beautiful. I
have practiced many times, and know.
MANDARIN--Get up, fox soul!
KWEN-LIN--(_Sitting up._) Have respect for my solemnly departing life.
My heart will not throb longer. (_Lies down._) I am dead!
MANDARIN--(_Prodding her with foot._) Get up, get up, get up! I must
carry her! (_Stoops, and puts arms under Kwen-lin._) Oh, for the strong
muscles of my lusty young arms. We have fed her too well. She weighs
many pounds. (_Stands up, and claps hands. Chang-sut-yen enters._)
CHANG-SUT-YEN--My serene mind presents itself to you, great master.
MANDARIN--Sleep should be gathering up the ends of your serene mind, but
it is as well. My daughter's honorable body has persuaded itself to seek
its illustrious ancestors--
CHANG-SUT-YEN--(_Kneeling beside Kwen-lin._) Kwen-lin dead, dead! Then
let the lady moon fall from the mighty loft of Heaven, and burn my life
to ashes of wistaria!
MANDARIN--Your overwhelming grief at my bereavement becomes a servant,
but let not the pockets of your eyes fill with tears. Bear her to the
house. She shall be whipped alive! (_Kwen-lin shudders._) The sublime
wasp shakes at that?
CHANG-SUT-YEN--(_Bending over Kwen-lin, and looking into her wide open
eyes._) It was a death throe, exalted one.
MANDARIN--Can your arms support her?
CHANG-SUT-YEN--I lift a Cherry Blossom with more effort.
MANDARIN--Speak not of Cherry Blossoms. Pick her up. (_Chang starts to
lift Kwen-lin._) No, no, that is not wise. How shall we do it?
CHANG-SUT-YEN--(_Craftily._) I can guard the crystal vase of her
departed soul, while you go for help.
MANDARIN--It had not penetrated my disturbed brain. I go for help.
(_Exit Mandarin._)
KWEN-LIN--(_Sitting up._) Superb love mate!
CHANG-SUT-YEN--(_Hurriedly._) Augustly enter the world of the venerable
dead again, luscious one, your honorable father looks this way.
KWEN-LIN--(_Lying down._) Do your eyes grow pearls that I am with my
ancestors?
CHANG-SUT-YEN--The love butterflies are winging in the happy recesses of
my heart. My breath will smother me with joy.
KWEN-LIN--(_Sitting up._) Joy, when my father is going to marry me to
the Ta-yin of Canton?
CHANG-SUT-YEN--Exalted joy, because before that can happen my father
will have the Ta-yin beheaded.
KWEN-LIN--An orphan has no father.
CHANG-SUT-YEN--I have a celestial now and then father, who does these
necessary but disagreeable things. I think he will dispose of the
wealthy Ta-yin if I ask him.
KWEN-LIN--It must be a wonderful convenience. We will make a list of all
those superbly annoying persons we do not like, and have your celestial
now and then father, behead them.
CHANG-SUT-YEN--We will ponder it, Bright Water-lily, when we are not
serenely happy.
KWEN-LIN--I do not like being whipped alive! My teeth chatter when I
think of it, and I can't be happy.
CHANG-SUT-YEN--A base whip to touch you! Nay, my lips shall make you
live. (_Kisses her._) I am gloriously versed in lip magic. (_Kisses her
again._)
KWEN-LIN--Let us fly on our illustrious legs, and be married with the
six ceremonies, before my father returns. I like that lip magic. It
makes singing here.
(_Kwen-lin touches heart. She and Chang-sut-yen exeunt. The Property Man
looks around the stage slowly, glances in the property box, then
saunters casually off._)
(_CURTAIN_)
CHORUS--I bow.
(_Chorus leaves stage followed by Gong-bearer._)
_Scene II_
(_Chorus again appears before the closed curtains, and raises his left
hand, while the Gong-bearer, who has walked to his original position at
the right side of the stage strikes the Gong once._)
CHORUS--Many perfumed months have passed since Chang-sut-yen wedded
Kwen-lin, and each has added a white hibiscus blossom to the garland of
life. But now bitter winter comes, snow is on the paeony hill, the hosts
of evil are abroad. The Mandarin, with never ending rage, has spent the
months searching throughout the Empire to discover their dwelling
place. Now he has learned where it is, and pursues Chang-sut-yen with a
death dealing thong, which he will wield with dire results. It is the
pleasure of the illustrious author that the villain act in a supremely
unpleasant manner, in order to bring out the tenderness of the play. Our
lovers, not knowing this is a comedy, (and therefore must conclude with
smiles and feasting), are overwhelmed with fear. I beg you not to share
this fear, except inasmuch as it may make the after enjoyment of the
happy ending more piquant and superbly satisfying.
I bow to you, and conduct you to the home of Chang-sut-yen, and
Kwen-lin, his wife.
(_Gong-bearer strikes gong. Chorus walks to his place at the left of
stage. The Curtains are drawn apart, and reveal Chang-sut-yen, and
Kwen-lin. The Property Man is at the back of the stage, as before._)
KWEN-LIN--Is my august father yet stamping on the road? Peep out of the
door, heroic one, and show but part of one eye, lest the radiance from
both light the world like stars, and he swoop upon us.
CHANG-SUT-YEN--(_Looking out of imaginary doorway._) I see not his angry
body.
KWEN-LIN--I would not face him here. Let us go outside, and sit neath
the eaves of the pagoda. He may miss our presence, and leave without
shattering this temple of our love dreams.
(_Property Man opens invisible door, they descend two steps and sit
down, and Property Man closes the door._)
CHANG-SUT-YEN--Little humming bird, your heart wings beat wildly
against my solemn breast.
KWEN-LIN--His fiery breath will wither our blood. Feel how it scorches
the grey veil of night. He is coming to consume us, he is coming to
consume us! I fear his terrible rage.
CHANG-SUT-YEN--Nay, tremble not, for I, your lover, shelter you in my
heart.
CHORUS--The Mandarin comes.
KWEN-LIN--(_Sadly._) The wine cup is drained, the love songs all are
silenced.
(_Enter Mandarin._)
MANDARIN--Base thief and destroyer, at last I have found the hole in
which you hide!
CHANG-SUT-YEN--A lover seeks only food for his love. If he destroys or
thieves what matter? Love is first.
MANDARIN--My tongue sends flame into your viper soul. Go to your
ancestors, they beckon you.
KWEN-LIN--Let us escape across the bridge!
(_Property Man holds bamboo stick horizontally for bridge._)
CHANG-SUT-YEN--Why should we flee?
KWEN-LIN--Why should we perish? To the bridge! We will outrun him.
(_They run onto bridge._)
CHANG-SUT-YEN--(_Grasping bamboo._) The bridge shakes. Its ribs are
rotten. We will fall into the water.
KWEN-LIN--(_Off stage._) I fall, I drown!
CHANG-SUT-YEN--Bright Water-lily, float upon the water's face.
MANDARIN--I pull down your star from Heaven's dome.
CHANG-SUT-YEN--My star dropped to Earth, when the light of hers failed.
(_Property Man hands whip to Mandarin._)
MANDARIN--I strike with my exalted whip. By the God of Fate, you die!
(_Strikes Chang with whip. Chang falls. Gong-bearer strikes gong. The
God of Fate, wearing grotesque mask, enters._)
FATE--Who calls me to the world of men?
MANDARIN--What unknown fear are you?
FATE--I am the God of Fate.
MANDARIN--I have sent a dog to death. (_Stoops and takes a small red bag
from Chang's breast._)
FATE--Chang-sut-yen is mine! He must not die.
MANDARIN--My exulting mind does not record your meaning.
FATE--(_Stooping over Chang, and putting the red bag back._)
Chang-sut-yen, son of Chang-won-yin, the Great, I give you back your
heart! (_Gong-bearer strikes gong._)
MANDARIN--Chang-sut-yen, son of Heaven! I bow in the dust three times.
(_Prostrates himself._)
FATE--(_To Chang._) Arise, and continue your exalted life.
CHANG-SUT-YEN--(_Rising._) My path is lost in crookedness until I join
her. Let me go.
FATE--The gods have not yet dried the ink on the pages of your book of
life. You must live, to live upon a Willow plate.
CHANG-SUT-YEN--And be broken by the heavy hand of august Time, and
unkind Chance. (_Property Man hands knife to Chang._) With this frosty
blade, I cut the circle of life, and press my lips to the jade cup of
nothingness. I am a lover bereft of my mate.
FATE--You must live! (_Touches Chang's arm with staff. The knife falls
to the ground. Property Man picks it up, and puts it back in the
property box._)
CHANG-SUT-YEN--Kwen-lin, I leap across the river of Heaven to your arms!
FATE--She is not dead. She dreams, and smiles upon the bosom of the
water.
(_To Kwen-lin._) Awake! Awake!
(_Kwen-lin enters, and goes to Chang._)
FATE--Your sublime father, Chang-won-yin, has gone to his ancestors. You
are Chang-sut-yen, the Great, ruler of this province.
(_Gong-bearer strikes gong._)
CHANG-SUT-YEN--I renounce my rule. I am a lover, not a ruler.
FATE--You are a turtle dove. (_To Mandarin._) To your home, and set
forth majestic feasting. Chang-sut-yen will honor your house. He rules.
CHANG-SUT-YEN--I rule not. I am a lover.
KWEN-LIN--Exalted one, a lover is a turtle dove.
FATE--It is sometimes given to women to know the truth. Thus Fate is
fulfilled, and Chang-sut-yen, the turtle dove, will live upon a Willow
plate.
(_Gong-bearer strikes the gong twice._)
(_CURTAIN_)
CHORUS--For your eager ears, for your shining eyes, for your smiling
faces, I bow, I bow, I bow.
(_Chorus followed by the Gong-bearer goes behind the curtains._)
THIS YOUTH--GENTLEMEN!
A FANTASY
CAST
A MAN.
A BOY.
This Youth--Gentlemen!
_Scene I--A narrow lane sharply ascending the hill-side. In the distance
a lake shimmers in the sunlight. As the curtain rises the BOY is
discovered sitting on a huge boulder. He curiously watches the
approaching MAN._
MAN--The road is narrow.
BOY--(_Curtly._) I like it so.
MAN--I have followed you from the valley.
BOY--(_Moving aside._) I'll follow you up the hill.
MAN--(_Smiling._) I may wait here.
BOY--I may play. (_He throws a stone across the waters, and laughs as it
strikes the surface._)
MAN--(_Sharply._) Now! You have disturbed the frogs and hidden green
things!
BOY--A ripple on the waters! It's the smile that quick adorns my lady's
face when I tell.... A little ripple--it whispers of spring and youth to
the hidden green things. I am glad I flung the stone!
MAN--Youth! A braggart word employed by fools and poets who have not
lived.
BOY--Youth! A magic word, the talisman of those who seek the promised
land!
MAN--(_Slowly._) I seek the world of yesterday!
BOY--We left it ... yesterday. Your road lies back in the valley.
MAN--I carry a chart in my breast, it marks the place where yesterday
stands. This lane leads there.
BOY--It leads to the land of promise.
MAN--I carry a chart in my breast....
BOY--Your chart, it lies! I'm going on; follow if you like.
MAN--What shall you, who have not lived, do when we reach the world of
yesterday?
BOY--Show you my land of promise.
MAN--Then haste!
BOY--Never fear. My feet are swift.
_Scene II--A ledge between a deep ravine and the mountain. Night._
MAN--Dear lad, let us rest here.
BOY--(_Laughing._) This is the edge of the world.
MAN--Sit not too near, I beg you.
BOY--I'll dangle my legs over the cliff, and watch the shadow of the
devil diminish.
MAN--(_Lying wearily on the ground._) To flutter like a feather from the
wing of a soaring eagle--to lie unseen and forgotten among the dead
leaves of the forest.
BOY--Come, and see the shadow.
MAN--I feel it on my heart.
BOY--The devil made that chart you boast about!
MAN--And locked it in my breast.
BOY--It has taken away your peace.
MAN--Peace! To hear that name on all men's lips, to search and search
and never know its habitation.
BOY--They say: He that pursueth, never shall overtake!
MAN--(_To himself._) Desires die, ideals are forgotten, love passes
away. The mantel of eternal snow envelops all men, what shall escape?
BOY--Youth!
MAN--Which knows not life.
BOY--Must one experience to know?... Do I not feel?
MAN--In all these days we have been together, what have you felt for me?
BOY--That you sowed wisely, but knew not how to garner. You speak of
ideals lost--
MAN--I am not sure I ever had them.
BOY--Is it work or play, love or life, your ideal of yesterday?
MAN--Yesterday! Did it ever exist?
BOY--It died the night of its birth, and vanished in rose smoke, making
incense to the gods who once reigned.
MAN--Who told you all this?
BOY--My lady--in the twilight.
MAN--Your lady?
BOY--She sent me to find the promised land. She will come when I am
there. My heart is strong, and I can wait for her.
MAN--My heart was strong and passionate; it pulses no longer like a
man's, but serves to beat out the unconsidered tickings of the ashen
days.
BOY--Then sit with me, be a child, and laugh at the shadow. So faith may
come again.
MAN--The day is breaking.
BOY--(_Whimsically._) Alas, the shadow's gone,
and you have not seen it! Look yonder at the little stream, it leaps
like a white flame down the grey old rocks.
(_They peer over the cliff together._)
MAN--I smell the living earth.
BOY--I want to climb the mountain side. Who knows what treasures may be
there?
MAN--(_Slowly._) I know the place--the place above.
BOY--Have you been there?
MAN--No.... I dreamed and thought to reach it once, but lost the way.
(_They climb together._)
BOY--Why do you laugh?
MAN--My blood has turned to flame. I feel it burning in my body.
BOY--The morning sun is in your veins. I know.... What do you see?
MAN--(_Whispering._) Your land of promise!
BOY--It is not so! My land of promise is more beautiful than anything
one may imagine!
MAN--This is more beautiful.
BOY--I would know if this were it.
MAN--This is the land I say. Laugh with me and shout. The shadow of the
devil has gone. I have found the place and myself.
BOY--Not so! The place is farther off, and higher. I am not content with
this!
MAN--Come with me, youth, to the summit!
BOY--(_Eagerly._) I'll climb with you.... I'll climb ... to the summit!
(_CURTAIN_)
THE STRIKER
CAST
JOHN QUINN, _A mortorman on strike_.
MRS. QUINN, _His wife_.
MOLLY, _His daughter_.
BILL MARTIN, _A neighbor, also on strike_.
MRS. MARTIN, _His wife_.
The Striker
_Scene--A dining room in a workman's home. Plain but scrupulously neat
and clean. Door L leads to kitchen. Door R leads to front door. Mrs.
Quinn is seated at centre table darning socks and talking to her
neighbor, Mrs. Martin._
MRS. MARTIN--(_Dropping a few pennies into a purse, and shutting it with
a snap._) Seven weeks, and not one cent coming in. I don't know how
we'll live, if it keeps up much longer.
MRS. QUINN--A strike's a bitter thing Mrs. Martin, and no one knowin'
how it will end.
MRS. MARTIN--Why can't they talk it out? It seems to me if the motormen
and conductors sent a committee to the company, they might arrive at an
understanding.
MRS. QUINN--But the company don't take stock in the Union, and a
committee of men would be a Union committee, or nothin'.
MRS. MARTIN--Let them arbitrate, I say, let them arbitrate.
MRS. QUINN--It's a nice soundin' word, is arbitrate, but no one wants to
do it, save them as ain't interested. A man hits with his fist first,
and arbitrates afterwards,--in the police court.
MRS. MARTIN--Men are queer creatures. There's my Bill, a more religious
man never walked, if I do say it myself, and yet he's as bitter as
poison against the company.
MRS. QUINN--Religion don't always kill bitterness--
MRS. MARTIN--This morning I wakened up before five o'clock, and he
wasn't in bed. I went down stairs to see what had happened, and found
him sneaking in the back gate like a thief. Heaven only knows what he
was doing outside at that time in the morning. Mischief, I'll bet.
MRS. QUINN--Aye, it was mischief, and my old man in it too. I got it out
of John when he came back. They had been out before the dawn, pryin' up
trolley tracks with a crow-bar.
MRS MARTIN--A fine mess if they'd been caught.
MRS. QUINN--Locked up, that's what would have happened, nice pair of old
fools that they are!
MRS. MARTIN--It must be devilish though, to have strike breakers come in
and run the cars, while the men are sticking out for a principle.
MRS. QUINN--A principle's a fine excuse now and then, for a bunch of men
to fight behind.
MRS. MARTIN--But this is a principle worth fighting for.
MRS. QUINN--Maybe it is.
MRS. MARTIN--I wish you'd go to the lectures at the Lyceum with me.
You'd understand things better. My, I miss your Molly. We heard so many
wonderful men talk, and she was so quick getting their ideas, it was
just great to be with her.
MRS. QUINN--Well, you know, she'd _tell_ me about them when she got
home. I remember that first man who talked of the virtue of humility and
self-sacrifice. Molly was that full of onselfishness after hearin' him,
that she almost gave her job to Jennie Tubbs, thinkin' _she_ needed the
money more than we did.
MRS. MARTIN--That was Prof. William Mason. He was a noble character.
MRS. QUINN--Aye, but he didn't last. He was followed by the moral
uplifter one. Sure, we lived on pins and needles then! After him we had
a course in sanitation, and pure food, and how to feed a fam'ly of six
on $4.00 a week. Oh, them last was wonderful fairy tales. The meals that
woman could manufacture out of an old ham bone! It was past belief.
MRS. MARTIN--I tried a few of her receipts, but Bill wouldn't eat the
things I made. He said he wasn't a horse yet.
MRS. QUINN--Aw, she was a joker, I'm thinkin', put in the pack to
lighten the others up a bit. Lectures is an easy way of gettin' scraps
of learnin', but it's done neither of ye lastin' hurt that I can see.
MRS. MARTIN--I heard the walking delegate talk this afternoon. The men
got pretty excited listening to him. He told them their rights, and
it'll be a wonder to me, if they don't do a good bit of damage to the
Company's property before this thing ends.
MRS. QUINN--The walkin' delegate's a smart lad, from all I hear.
MRS. MARTIN--He's smart enough to get paid for the work he does.
MRS. QUINN--He gets paid for startin' strikes, is it?
MRS. MARTIN--He goes all over the country telling the men when to
strike, and what to strike for. He gets paid for that.
MRS. QUINN--But the men don't get paid for strikin'.
MRS. MARTIN--That's a silly idea, Mrs. Quinn.
MRS. QUINN--You can have it for what it's worth. Molly used to say I had
more ideas than a dog has fleas, but I fancy she was just slatherin' me
over with the blarney.
MRS. MARTIN--Well, I believe the walking delegate's right. The men must
fight this out to a finish.
MRS. QUINN--It's likely to be our finish, alright, alright.
MRS. MARTIN--(_Unconsciously imitating the delegate._) It's not only for
ourselves, but for our children that the war must be waged.
MRS. QUINN--Our children! Sure, it shouldn't be a bequeathment job, this
trolley business.
MRS. MARTIN--He says our children will be saved a fight for their
rights, if we conquer now.
MRS. QUINN--Whist darlin', our children will have their own notion of
rights and fights by the time they grow up. They can blow on their own
broth when it bubbles over.
MRS. MARTIN--But the noble way is to consider the ones who come after
us.
MRS. QUINN--Maybe that's so, me dear Mrs. Martin, but I'm after lookin'
out for the man of to-day. The better off we are, the better off our
kids'll be.
MRS. MARTIN--The walking delegate says that's a very selfish way of
looking at it.
MRS. QUINN--The walkin' delegate's got the fine words in his mouth.
(_Silence._)
MRS. MARTIN--Have you heard from Molly lately?
MRS. QUINN--Poor darlin', I got a letter from her this mornin'. She's
comin' home.
MRS. MARTIN--Does Mr. Quinn know?
MRS. QUINN--I'll have it out with him to-night.
MRS. MARTIN--He's a pretty stubborn man.
MRS. QUINN--I'll bring him around, never fear.
MRS. MARTIN--I think you're a wonderful woman, the way you manage him,
Mrs. Quinn.
MRS. QUINN--Sure it's just me knowledge of that, keeps me goin'. When I
lose conceit of meself, I'll be fit for no place but--Heaven.
MRS. MARTIN--(_Listens, with finger uplifted._) Sh! That's Bill slamming
the back gate. I'll go put the kettle on. A cup of hot tea soon takes
all the ugly kinks out of him.
MRS. QUINN--It's an upliftin' beverage, is tea. It does miracles for my
old man, when he has his back up.
MRS. MARTIN--(_Going to door L. then hesitating._) I'm not a specially
religious woman, Mrs. Quinn, and I've never heard you say much about it,
but I think now that everything else has failed and the strike seems no
nearer an end, we might as well take it to God in prayer. As Bill says,
we've tried every other way.
MRS. QUINN--(_Slowly._) Well, I guess Gawd's used to bein' the last on
the list, so I'll join ye in yer prayers, Mrs. Martin. Good-night to
ye.
(_Exit Mrs Martin door L._)
(_Mrs. Quinn pulls down the blind and fusses about the room. There is a
sharp bang on the front door. She leaves room R. and returns with the
evening paper. Looks out the window again, raising the blind ever so
little, then sits at table, and opens the paper._)
MRS. QUINN--(_Reads--then._) Nothin' but strike, strike, strike,
wherever ye look. A few cents an hour more, a few hours a week less,
what a little to fight for, and yet they won't get it, they won't get
it.
(_Quinn enters door L. Hangs hat and coat on rack near kitchen door.
Sits in chair at side of table, and is noticeably nervous._)
QUINN--(_After a pause, during which they both steal furtive glances at
one another._) Well?
MRS. QUINN--I see yer home again. Anything doin'?
QUINN--Nothin'.
MRS. QUINN--(_Tartly._) Well, it's a fine husky way for a man to be
makin' a livin' for his wife, throwin' up his good job as a motorman,
and walkin' the streets.