THE MODERN DRAMA SERIES
EDITED BY EDWIN BJÖRKMAN
THE GODS OF THE MOUNTAIN : THE GOLDEN DOOM : KING ARGIMENES AND
THE UNKNOWN WARRIOR : THE GLITTERING GATE : THE LOST SILK HAT : BY LORD
DUNSANY
FIVE PLAYS
THE GODS OF THE MOUNTAIN
THE GOLDEN DOOM
KING ARGIMENES AND THE UNKNOWN WARRIOR
THE GLITTERING GATE
THE LOST SILK HAT
BY
LORD DUNSANY
BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1922
_Copyright_, 1914,
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
_All Dramatic rights reserved by the Author_
These plays are fully protected by the copyright law, all requirements
of which have been complied with. In their present printed form they
are dedicated to the reading public only, and no performance of them,
either professional or amateur, may be given without the written
permission of the owner of the acting rights, who may be addressed in
care of the publishers, Little, Brown, and Company.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION vii
CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF PLAYS xiii
THE GODS OF THE MOUNTAIN 1
THE GOLDEN DOOM 39
KING ARGIMNS AND THE UNKNOWN WARRIOR 61
THE GLITTERING GATE 87
THE LOST SILK HAT 101
INTRODUCTION
Observation and imagination are the basic principles of all poetry. It
is impossible to conceive a poetical work from which one of them is
wholly absent. Observation without imagination makes for obviousness;
imagination without observation turns into nonsense. What marks the
world's greatest poetry is perhaps the presence in almost equal
proportion of both these principles. But as a rule we find one of them
predominating, and from this one-sided emphasis the poetry of the
period derives its character as realistic or idealistic.
The poetry of the middle nineteenth century made a fetish of
observation. It came as near excluding imagination as it could without
ceasing entirely to be poetry. That such exaggeration should sooner or
later result in a sharp reaction was natural. The change began during
the eighties and gathered full headway in the early nineties.
Imagination, so long scorned, came into its rights once more, and it is
rapidly becoming the dominant note in the literary production of our
own day.
The new movement has been called "neo-romantic" and "symbolistic." Both
these names apply, but neither of them exhausts the contents or meaning
of the movement which received its first impetus from Ibsen and which
later found its typical embodiment in Maeterlinck. From this movement
came much of the inspiration that produced the poetical re-birth of
Ireland out of which has sprung the man whom I have now the pleasure of
introducing to American readers: a man with imagination as elfish as
moonlight mist.
Edward John Moreton Drax Plunkett, Lord Dunsany, is the eighteenth
member of his family to bear the title which gives him a place in the
Irish peerage. He was born in 1878 and received his education at Eton
and Sandhurst. In 1899 he succeeded his father to the title and the
family estate in Meath, Ireland. During the South African war he served
at the front with the Coldstream Guards. He is passionately fond of
outdoor life and often spends the whole day in the saddle before
sitting down at his desk to write late at night.
His work proves, however, that he is as fond of spiritual as of
physical exercise, and that he is an inveterate traveller in those
mysterious regions of the partly known or wholly unknown where the
imagination alone can guide us. His first literary heroes were the
brothers Grimm and Andersen. Then the Greek world of Olympians was
revealed to him, making a lasting impression on his mind. But it was
the Bible that gave him the limpid style which makes his most fantastic
tales as real as government reports--or rather much more so. "For years
no style seemed to me natural but that of the Bible," he said not long
ago, "and I feared that I would never become a writer when I saw that
other people did not use it."
For something like ten years he has been a pretty frequent and
increasingly valued contributor to English and Anglo-Irish periodicals.
He has previously published five volumes: "The Gods of Pegana," 1905;
"Time and the Gods," 1906; "The Sword of Welleran," 1908; "A Dreamer's
Tales," 1910; and "The Book of Wonder," 1912. All are collections of
prose pieces that defy accepted classifications. They are fairy tales
and short stories and essays and prose poems at the same time.
The reader has only to take a brief glance at one of those works to
make the astounding discovery that he is being introduced to worlds of
which he has never heard before. Even the "Arabian Nights" have a
clearly identifiable background of popular legend and myth. Nothing of
the kind is to be found in the writings of Lord Dunsany. He may be said
to have created a new mythology wholly his own. He is not only the
master but the maker of the countries to which he takes us on such
fascinating jaunts. His commonest name for them is the Edge of the
World, but sometimes he speaks of them as the Lands of Wonder. This
latter name is doubly significant, for the whole movement of which he
forms such a striking manifestation has been defined as a "renascence
of wonder."
The names of places and persons appearing in the stories of Lord
Dunsany are worth a study in themselves. There are hundreds of them,
giving evidence of an inexhaustible imagination; and each one of them
is as aptly suggestive as if generations of men had been at work
shaping them. To hear of Sardathion, the city built by the Gods of Old,
is to see its domes of marble rising sky-high in the sunset-lighted
air. To hear of Slith and Sippy and Slorg, the three thieves who went
to the Edge of the World in quest of the Golden Box, is to feel as if
one were dealing with historical characters like Aaron Burr or Chinese
Gordon. And as we learn more about them, these fanciful creatures of
Lord Dunsany's brain assume still more familiar characteristics, as if
they had been studied in some Irish village or English street. It is
this fact that reveals one of the main secrets of Lord Dunsany's
appeal: that behind all his exuberant imagination lies a solid basis of
observation, enabling him to endow the most impossible adventures with
a homely and convincing air.
The five plays contained in the present volume have all been produced
on the stage. "The Golden Doom" and "The Gods of the Mountain" have
been staged most successfully at the Haymarket Theatre, London. "King
Argimenes" and "The Glittering Gate" have been given by the Irish
Players, and "The Lost Silk Hat" has been put on by Iden Payne at
Manchester. In America, the first three have been in the repertoire of
Stuart Walker's Portmanteau Theatre, and "The Glittering Gate" has been
given by the Neighborhood Players.
After seeing "The Gods of the Mountain," Frank Harris wrote: "It was
one of the nights of my life; the only play, I said to myself, which
meant anything to me in twenty years or more." Without sharing the
opinion of Mr. Harris about the dramatic output of the last twenty
years, I share fully his enthusiasm in regard to the play that caused
his remark. The note struck in it is so distinctly new as to make one
gasp as under a sharp shock. But the surprise turns quickly into
pleasure such as only the originality of genius can confer.
It is hard to define just what makes these plays what they are. But
certain qualities are tangible. Their deep and rich symbolism is one.
It is the kind of symbolism for which the advances of modern psychology
had prepared us--the kind that is inseparable from life itself as we
are only just beginning to understand it. Another quality is their
capacity for suggesting at once the intimate unity and appalling
vastness of life. In "The Golden Doom" the fate of an empire and a
little boy's desire for a new plaything become linked as facts of equal
importance in the web of fate. In "The Gods of the Mountain" we meet
with an atmosphere of fatality comparable only to that found in the
Greek dramas. The crime of _hybris_, which to the Greeks was the
"unforgivable sin," is here made as real to us as it was to them.
But these remarks of mine about the inner significance of the plays
should not tempt anybody into thinking them deficient in that element
of formal perfection without which they could not be classed as works
of art. They are, indeed, "things of beauty," and their beauty inheres
in their design as well as in their style. Through all of them the
greatest possible economy of means has been observed, so that not a
word, not a tone, not a gesture is wasted in obtaining the effect aimed
at. The dialogue of Maeterlinck is suggested, but not more than
suggested. The words spoken by the characters of Maeterlinck are often
so vague as to be practically meaningless. The characters of Lord
Dunsany speak as simply as those of Maeterlinck, but always sharply to
the point; there can be no mistaking of what they mean, and that
meaning serves always to carry the action of the play forward. And each
play of Lord Dunsany's is an exciting adventure, conveying to the
reader an exhilarating sense of motion without ever descending to
old-fashioned stage tricks for the production of that sense. This means
that they combine to an extraordinary degree the qualities which make
separately for theatrical or literary success.
EDWIN BJÖRKMAN.
CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF PLAYS BY LORD DUNSANY
THE GLITTERING GATE, 1909
KING ARGIMENES AND THE UNKNOWN WARRIOR, 1911
THE GODS OF THE MOUNTAIN, 1911
THE GOLDEN DOOM, 1912
THE LOST SILK HAT, 1913
THE TENTS OF THE ARABS, 1915
A NIGHT AT AN INN, 1916
THE QUEEN'S ENEMIES, 1916
THE LAUGHTER OF THE GODS, 1917
THE GODS OF THE MOUNTAIN
PERSONS
AGMAR }
SLAG }
ULF }
OOGNO } _Beggars_
THAHN }
MLAN }
A THIEF }
OORANDER }
ILLANAUN } _Citizens_
AKMOS }
THE DROMEDARY MEN
CITIZENS, ETC.
THE OTHERS
SCENE: THE EAST
THE GODS OF THE MOUNTAIN
THE FIRST ACT
_Outside a city wall. Three beggars are seated upon the ground._
OOGNO
These days are bad for beggary.
THAHN
They are bad.
ULF (_an older beggar but not gray_)
Some evil has befallen the rich ones of this city. They take no joy any
longer in benevolence, but are become sour and miserly at heart. Alas
for them! I sometimes sigh for them when I think of this.
OOGNO
Alas for them! A miserly heart must be a sore affliction.
THAHN
A sore affliction indeed, and bad for our calling.
OOGNO (_reflectively_)
They have been thus for many months. What thing has befallen them?
THAHN
Some evil thing.
ULF
There has been a comet come near to the earth of late and the earth has
been parched and sultry so that the gods are drowsy and all those
things that are divine in man, such as benevolence, drunkenness,
extravagance, and song, have faded and died and have not been
replenished by the gods.
OOGNO
It has indeed been sultry.
THAHN
I have seen the comet o' nights.
ULF
The gods are drowsy.
OOGNO
If they awake not soon and make this city worthy again of our order I
for one shall forsake the calling and buy a shop and sit at ease in the
shade and barter for gain.
THAHN
You will keep a shop?
[_Enter Agmar and Slag. Agmar, though poorly dressed, is tall,
imperious, and older than Ulf. Slag follows behind him._
AGMAR
Is this a beggar who speaks?
OOGNO
Yes, master, a poor beggar.
AGMAR
How long has the calling of beggary existed?
OOGNO
Since the building of the first city, master.
AGMAR
And when has a beggar ever followed a trade? When has he ever haggled
and bartered and sat in a shop?
OOGNO
Why, he has never done so.
AGMAR
Are you he that shall be first to forsake the calling?
OOGNO
Times are bad for the calling here.
THAHN
They are bad.
AGMAR
So you would forsake the calling?
OOGNO
The city is unworthy of our calling. The gods are drowsy and all that
is divine in man is dead. (_To third beggar_) Are not the gods drowsy?
ULF
They are drowsy in their mountains away at Marma. The seven green idols
are drowsy. Who is this that rebukes us?
THAHN
Are you some great merchant, master? Perhaps you will help a poor man
that is starving.
SLAG
My master a merchant! No, no. He is no merchant. My master is no
merchant.
OOGNO
I perceive that he is some lord in disguise. The gods have woken and
have sent him to save us.
SLAG
No, no. You do not know my master. You do not know him.
THAHN
Is he the Soldan's self that has come to rebuke us?
AGMAR
I am a beggar, and an old beggar.
SLAG (_with great pride_)
There is none like my master. No traveller has met with cunning like to
his, not even those that come from Æthiopia.
ULF
We make you welcome to our town, upon which an evil has fallen, the
days being bad for beggary.
AGMAR
Let none who has known the mystery of roads or has felt the wind
arising new in the morning, or who has called forth out of the souls of
men divine benevolence, ever speak any more of any trade or of the
miserable gains of shops and the trading men.
OOGNO
I but spoke hastily, the times being bad.
AGMAR
I will put right the times.
SLAG
There is nothing that my master cannot do.
AGMAR (_to Slag_)
Be silent and attend to me. I do not know this city. I have travelled
from far, having somewhat exhausted the city of Ackara.
SLAG
My master was three times knocked down and injured by carriages there,
once he was killed and seven times beaten and robbed, and every time he
was generously compensated. He had nine diseases, many of them mortal--
AGMAR
Be silent, Slag.--Have you any thieves among the calling here?
ULF
We have a few that we call thieves here, master, but they would
scarcely seem thieves to you. They are not good thieves.
AGMAR
I shall need the best thief you have.
[_Enter two citizens richly clad, Illanaun and Oorander._
ILLANAUN
Therefore we will send galleons to Ardaspes.
OORANDER
Right to Ardaspes through the silver gates.
[_Agmar transfers the thick handle of his long staff to his left
armpit, he droops on to it and it supports his weight; he is upright no
longer. His right arm hangs limp and useless. He hobbles up to the
citizens imploring alms._
ILLANAUN
I am sorry. I cannot help you. There have been too many beggars here
and we must decline alms for the good of the town.
AGMAR (_sitting down and weeping_)
I have come from far.
[_Illanaun presently returns and gives Agmar a coin. Exit Illanaun.
Agmar, erect again, walks back to the others._
AGMAR
We shall need fine raiment; let the thief start at once. Let it rather
be green raiment.
BEGGAR
I will go and fetch the thief. (_Exit_)
ULF
We will dress ourselves as lords and impose upon the city.
OOGNO
Yes, yes; we will say we are ambassadors from a far land.
ULF
And there will be good eating.
SLAG (_in an undertone to Ulf_)
But you do not know my master. Now that you have suggested that we
shall go as lords, he will make a better suggestion. He will suggest
that we should go as kings.
ULF
Beggars as kings!
SLAG
Ay. You do not know my master.
ULF (_to Agmar_)
What do you bid us do?
AGMAR
You shall first come by the fine raiment in the manner I have
mentioned.
ULF
And what then, master?
AGMAR
Why, then we shall go as gods.
BEGGARS
As gods!
AGMAR
As gods. Know you the land through which I have lately come in my
wanderings? Marma, where the gods are carved from green stone in the
mountains. They sit all seven of them against the hills. They sit there
motionless and travellers worship them.
ULF
Yes, yes, we know those gods. They are much reverenced here, but they
are drowsy and send us nothing beautiful.
AGMAR
They are of green jade. They sit cross-legged with their right elbows
resting on their left hands, the right forefinger pointing upward. We
will come into the city disguised, from the direction of Marma, and
will claim to be these gods. We must be seven as they are. And when we
sit we must sit cross-legged as they do, with the right hand uplifted.
ULF
This is a bad city in which to fall into the hands of oppressors, for
the judges lack amiability here as the merchants lack benevolence, ever
since the gods forgot them.
AGMAR
In our ancient calling a man may sit at one street corner for fifty
years doing the one thing, and yet a day may come when it is well for
him to rise up and do another thing while the timorous man starves.
ULF
Also it were well not to anger the gods.
AGMAR
Is not all life a beggary to the gods? Do they not see all men always
begging of them and asking alms with incense, and bells, and subtle
devices?
OOGNO
Yes, all men indeed are beggars before the gods.
AGMAR
Does not the mighty Soldan often sit by the agate altar in his royal
temple as we sit at a street corner or by a palace gate?
ULF
It is even so.
AGMAR
Then will the gods be glad when we follow the holy calling with new
devices and with subtlety, as they are glad when the priests sing a new
song.
ULF
Yet I have a fear.
[_Enter two men talking._
AGMAR (_to Slag_)
Go you into the city before us and let there be a prophecy there which
saith that the gods who are carven from green rock in the mountain
shall one day arise in Marma and come here in the guise of men.
SLAG
Yes, master. Shall I make the prophecy myself? Or shall it be found in
some old document?
AGMAR
Let someone have seen it once in some rare document. Let it be spoken
of in the market place.
SLAG
It shall be spoken of, master.
[_Slag lingers. Enter Thief and Thahn._
OOGNO
This is our thief.
AGMAR (_encouragingly_)
Ah, he is a quick thief.
THIEF
I could only procure you three green raiments, master. The city is not
now well supplied with them; moreover, it is a very suspicious city and
without shame for the baseness of its suspicions.
SLAG (_to a beggar_)
This is not thieving.
THIEF
I could do no more, master. I have not practised thieving all my life.
AGMAR
You have got something: it may serve our purpose. How long have you
been thieving?
THIEF
I stole first when I was ten.
SLAG (_in horror_)
When he was ten!
AGMAR
We must tear them up and divide them amongst the seven. (_To Thahn_)
Bring me another beggar.
SLAG
When my master was ten he had already to slip by night out of two
cities.
OOGNO (_admiringly_)
Out of two cities?
SLAG (_nodding his head_)
In his native city they do not now know what became of the golden cup
that stood in the Lunar Temple.
AGMAR
Yes, into seven pieces.
ULF
We will each wear a piece of it over our rags.
OOGNO
Yes, yes, we shall look fine.
AGMAR
That is not the way that we shall disguise ourselves.
OOGNO
Not cover our rags?
AGMAR
No, no. The first who looked closely would say, "These are only
beggars. They have disguised themselves."
ULF
What shall we do?
AGMAR
Each of the seven shall wear a piece of the green raiment underneath
his rags. And peradventure here and there a little shall show through;
and men shall say, "These seven have disguised themselves as beggars.
But we know not what they be."
SLAG
Hear my wise master.
OOGNO (_in admiration_)
_He_ is a beggar.
ULF
He is an _old_ beggar.
CURTAIN
THE SECOND ACT
_The Metropolitan Hall of the city of Kongros. Citizens, etc._
_Enter the seven beggars with green silk under their rags._
OORANDER
Who are you and whence come you?
AGMAR
Who may say what we are or whence we come?
OORANDER
What are these beggars and why do they come here?
AGMAR
Who said to you that we were beggars?
OORANDER
Why do these men come here?
AGMAR
Who said to you that we were men?
ILLANAUN
Now, by the moon!
AGMAR
My sister.
ILLANAUN
What?
AGMAR
My little sister.
SLAG
Our little sister the moon. She comes to us at evenings away in the
mountains of Marma. She trips over the mountains when she is young.
When she is young and slender she comes and dances before us, and when
she is old and unshapely she hobbles away from the hills.
AGMAR
Yet is she young again and forever nimble with youth; yet she comes
dancing back. The years are not able to curb her nor to bring gray
hairs to her brethren.
OORANDER
This is not wonted.
ILLANAUN
It is not in accordance with custom.
AKMOS
Prophecy hath not thought it.
SLAG
She comes to us new and nimble, remembering olden loves.
OORANDER
It were well that prophets should come and speak to us.
ILLANAUN
This hath not been in the past. Let prophets come. Let prophets speak
to us of future things.
[_The beggars seat themselves upon the floor in the attitude of the
seven gods of Marma._
CITIZEN
I heard men speak to-day in the market place. They speak of a prophecy
read somewhere of old. It says the seven gods shall come from Marma in
the guise of men.
ILLANAUN
Is this a true prophecy?
OORANDER
It is all the prophecy we have. Man without prophecy is like a sailor
going by night over uncharted seas. He knows not where are the rocks
nor where the havens. To the man on watch all things ahead are black
and the stars guide him not, for he knows not what they are.
ILLANAUN
Should we not investigate this prophecy?
OORANDER
Let us accept it. It is as the small, uncertain light of a lantern,
carried it may be by a drunkard, but along the shore of some haven. Let
us be guided.
AKMOS
It may be that they are but benevolent gods.
AGMAR
There is no benevolence greater than our benevolence.
ILLANAUN
Then we need do little: they portend no danger to us.
AGMAR
There is no anger greater than our anger.
OORANDER
Let us make sacrifice to them if they be gods.
AKMOS
We humbly worship you, if ye be gods.
ILLANAUN (_kneeling too_)
You are mightier than all men and hold high rank among other gods and
are lords of this our city, and have the thunder as your plaything and
the whirlwind and the eclipse and all the destinies of human tribes--if
ye be gods.
AGMAR
Let the pestilence not fall at once upon this city, as it had indeed
designed to; let not the earthquake swallow it all immediately up amid
the howls of the thunder; let not infuriated armies overwhelm those
that escape--if we be gods--
POPULACE (_in horror_)
If we be gods!
OORANDER
Come, let us sacrifice.
ILLANAUN
Bring lambs.
AKMOS
Quick! Quick! (_Exeunt some_)
SLAG (_with solemn air_)
This god is a very divine god.
THAHN
He is no common god.
MLAN
Indeed he has made us.
CITIZEN (_to Slag_)
He will not punish us, master? None of the gods will punish us? We will
make a sacrifice, a good sacrifice.
ANOTHER
We will sacrifice a lamb that the priests have blessed.
FIRST CITIZEN
Master, you are not wroth with us?
SLAG
Who may say what cloudy dooms are rolling up in the mind of the eldest
of the gods? He is no common god like us. Once a shepherd went by him
in the mountains and doubted as he went. He sent a doom after that
shepherd.
CITIZEN
Master, we have not doubted.
SLAG
And the doom found him on the hills at evening.
SECOND CITIZEN
It shall be a good sacrifice, master.
[_Reënter with a dead lamb and fruits. They offer the lamb on an
altar where there is fire, and fruits before the altar._
THAHN (_stretching out a hand to a lamb upon an altar_)
That leg is not being cooked at all.
ILLANAUN
It is strange that gods should be thus anxious about the cooking of a
leg of lamb.
OORANDER
It is strange certainly.
ILLANAUN
Almost I had said that it was a man spoke then.
OORANDER (_stroking his beard and regarding the second beggar_)
Strange. Strange, certainly.
AGMAR
Is it then strange that the gods love roasted flesh? For this purpose
they keep the lightning. When the lightning flickers about the limbs of
men there comes to the gods in Marma a pleasant smell, even a smell of
roasting. Sometimes the gods, being pacific, are pleased to have
roasted instead the flesh of lamb. It is all one to the gods; let the
roasting stop.
OORANDER
No, no, gods of the mountains!
OTHERS
No, no.
OORANDER
Quick, let us offer the flesh to them. If they eat, all is well.
[_They offer it; the beggars eat, all but Agmar, who watches._
ILLANAUN
One who was ignorant, one who did not know, had almost said that they
ate like hungry men.
OTHERS
Hush!
AKMOS
Yet they look as though they had not had a meal like this for a long
time.
OORANDER
They have a hungry look.
AGMAR (_who has not eaten_)
I have not eaten since the world was very new and the flesh of men was
tenderer than now. These younger gods have learned the habit of eating
from the lions.
OORANDER
O oldest of divinities, partake, partake.
AGMAR
It is not fitting that such as I should eat. None eat but beasts and
men and the younger gods. The sun and the moon and the nimble lightning
and I--we may kill and we may madden, but we do not eat.
AKMOS
If he but eat of our offering he cannot overwhelm us.
ALL
Oh, ancient deity, partake, partake.
AGMAR
Enough. Let it be enough that these have condescended to this bestial
and human habit.
ILLANAUN (_to Akmos_)
And yet he is not unlike a beggar whom I saw no so long since.
OORANDER
But beggars eat.
ILLANAUN
Now I never knew a beggar yet who would refuse a bowl of Woldery wine.
AKMOS
This is no beggar.
ILLANAUN
Nevertheless let us offer him a bowl of Woldery wine.
AKMOS
You do wrong to doubt him.
ILLANAUN
I do but wish to prove his divinity. I will fetch the Woldery wine.
(_Exit_)
AKMOS
He will not drink. Yet if he does, then he will not overwhelm us. Let
us offer him the wine.
[_Reënter Illanaun with a goblet._
FIRST BEGGAR
It is Woldery wine!
SECOND BEGGAR
It is Woldery!
THIRD BEGGAR
A goblet of Woldery wine!
FOURTH BEGGAR
O blessed day!
MLAN
O happy times!
SLAG
O my wise master!
[_Illanaun takes the goblet. All the beggars stretch out their hands
including Agmar. Illanaun gives it to Agmar. Agmar takes it solemnly,
and very carefully pours it upon the ground._
FIRST BEGGAR
He has spilt it.
SECOND BEGGAR
He has spilt it. (_Agmar sniffs the fumes, loquitur_)
AGMAR
It is a fitting libation. Our anger is somewhat appeased.
ANOTHER BEGGAR
But it was Woldery!
AKMOS (_kneeling to Agmar_)
Master, I am childless, and I--
AGMAR
Trouble us not now. It is the hour at which the gods are accustomed to
speak to the gods in the language of the gods, and if Man heard us he
would guess the futility of his destiny, which were not well for Man.
Begone! Begone!
ONE LINGERS (_loquitur_)
Master--
AGMAR
Begone!
[_Exeunt. Agmar takes up a piece of meat and begins to eat it; the
beggars rise and stretch themselves: they laugh, but Agmar eats
hungrily._
OOGNO
Ah! Now we have come into our own.
THAHN
Now we have alms.
SLAG
Master! My wise master!
ULF
These are the good days, the good days; and yet I have a fear.
SLAG
What do you fear? There is nothing to fear. No man is as wise as my
master.
ULF
I fear the gods whom we pretend to be.
SLAG
The gods?
AGMAR (_taking a chunk of meat from his lips_)
Come hither, Slag.
SLAG (_going up to him_)
Yes, master.
AGMAR
Watch in the doorway while I eat. (_Slag goes to the doorway_) Sit
in the attitude of a god. Warn me if any of the citizens approach.
[_Slag sits in the doorway in the attitude of a god, back to the
audience._
OOGNO (_to Agmar_)
But, master, shall we not have Woldery wine?
AGMAR
We shall have all things if only we are wise at first for a little.
THAHN
Master, do any suspect us?
AGMAR
We must be _very_ wise.
THAHN
But if we are not wise, master?
AGMAR
Why, then death may come to us--
THAHN
O master!
AGMAR
--slowly.
[_All stir uneasily except Slag, who sits motionless in the doorway._
OOGNO
Do they believe us, master?
SLAG (_half turning his head_)
Someone comes.
[_Slag resumes his position._
AGMAR (_putting away his meat_)
We shall soon know now.
[_All take up the attitude. Enter One, loquitur._
ONE
Master, I want the god that does not eat.
AGMAR
I am he.
ONE
Master, my child was bitten in the throat by a death-adder at noon.
Spare him, master; he still breathes, but slowly.
AGMAR
Is he indeed your child?
ONE
He is surely my child, master.
AGMAR
Was it your wont to thwart him in his play, while he was strong and
well?
ONE
I never thwarted him, master.
AGMAR
Whose child is Death?
ONE
Death is the child of the gods.
AGMAR
Do you that never thwarted your child in his play ask this of the gods?
ONE (_with some horror, perceiving Agmar's meaning_)
Master!
AGMAR
Weep not. For all the houses that men have builded are the play-fields
of this child of the gods.
[_The Man goes away in silence, not weeping._
OOGNO (_taking Thahn by the wrist_)
Is this indeed a man?
AGMAR
A man, a man, and until just now a hungry one.
CURTAIN
THE THIRD ACT
_Same room._
_A few days have elapsed._
_Seven thrones shaped like mountain-crags stand along the back of the
stage. On these the beggars are lounging. The Thief is absent._
MLAN
Never had beggars such a time.
OOGNO
Ah, the fruits and tender lamb!
THAHN
The Woldery wine!
SLAG
It was better to see my master's wise devices than to have fruit and
lamb and Woldery wine.
MLAN
Ah! When they spied on him to see if he would eat when they went away!
OOGNO
When they questioned him concerning the gods and Man!
THAHN
When they asked him why the gods permitted cancer!
SLAG
Ah, my wise master!
MLAN
How well his scheme has succeeded!
OOGNO
How far away is hunger!
THAHN
It is even like to one of last year's dreams, the trouble of a brief
night long ago.
OOGNO (_laughing_)
Ho, ho, ho! To see them pray to us.
AGMAR
When we were beggars did we not speak as beggars? Did we not whine as
they? Was not our mien beggarly?
OOGNO
We were the pride of our calling.
AGMAR
Then now that we are gods, let us be as gods, and not mock our
worshippers.
ULF
I think that the gods _do_ mock their worshippers.
AGMAR
The gods have never mocked us. We are above all pinnacles that we have
ever gazed at in dreams.
ULF
I think that when man is high then most of all are the gods wont to
mock him.
THIEF (_entering_)
Master! I have been with those that know all and see all. I have been
with the thieves, master. They know me for one of the craft, but they
do not know me as being one of us.
AGMAR
Well, well!
THIEF
There is danger, master, there is great danger.
AGMAR
You mean that they suspect that we are men.
THIEF
That they have long done, master. I mean that they will know it. Then
we are lost.
AGMAR
Then they do not know it.
THIEF
They do not know it yet, but they will know it, and we are lost.
AGMAR
When will they know it?
THIEF
Three days ago they suspected us.
AGMAR
More than you think suspected us, but have any dared to say so?
THIEF
No, master.
AGMAR
Then forget your fears, my thief.
THIEF
Two men went on dromedaries three days ago to see if the gods were
still at Marma.
AGMAR
They went to Marma!
THIEF
Yes, three days ago.
OOGNO
We are lost!
AGMAR
They went three days ago?
THIEF
Yes, on dromedaries.
AGMAR
They should be back to-day.
OOGNO
We are lost!
THAHN
We are lost!
THIEF
They must have seen the green jade idols sitting against the mountains.
They will say, "The gods are still at Marma." And we shall be burnt.
SLAG
My master will yet devise a plan.
AGMAR (_to the Thief_)
Slip away to some high place and look toward the desert and see how
long we have to devise a plan.
SLAG
My master will find a plan.
OOGNO
He has taken us into a trap.
THAHN
His wisdom is our doom.
SLAG
He will find a wise plan yet.
THIEF (_reëntering_)
It is too late!
AGMAR
It is too late!
THIEF
The dromedary men are here.
OOGNO
We are lost!
AGMAR
Be silent! I must think.
[_They all sit still. Citizens enter and prostrate themselves. Agmar
sits deep in thought._
ILLANAUN (_to Agmar_)
Two holy pilgrims have gone to your sacred shrines, wherein you were
wont to sit before you left the mountains. (_Agmar says nothing_)
They return even now.
AGMAR
They left us here and went to find the gods? A fish once took a journey
into a far country to find the sea.
ILLANAUN
Most reverend deity, their piety is so great that they have gone to
worship even your shrines.
AGMAR
I know these men that have great piety. Such men have often prayed to
me before, but their prayers are not acceptable. They little love the
gods; their only care is their piety. I know these pious ones. They
will say that the seven gods were still at Marma. They will lie and say
that we were still at Marma. So shall they seem more pious to you all,
pretending that they alone have seen the gods. Fools shall believe them
and share in their damnation.
OORANDER (_to Illanaun_)
Hush! You anger the gods.
ILLANAUN
I am not sure whom I anger.
OORANDER
It may be they are the gods.
ILLANAUN
Where are these men from Marma?
CITIZEN
Here are the dromedary men; they are coming now.
ILLANAUN (_to Agmar_)
The holy pilgrims from your shrine are come to worship you.
AGMAR
The men are doubters. How the gods hate the word! Doubt ever
contaminated virtue. Let them be cast into prison and not besmirch your
purity. (_Rising_) Let them not enter here.
ILLANAUN
But oh, most reverend deity from the Mountain, we also doubt, most
reverend deity.
AGMAR
You have chosen. You have chosen. And yet it is not too late. Repent
and cast these men in prison and it may not be too late. _The gods
have never wept._ And yet when they think upon damnation and the
dooms that are withering a myriad bones, then almost, were they not
divine, they could weep. Be quick! Repent of your doubt.
[_Enter the Dromedary Men._
ILLANAUN
Most reverend deity, it is a mighty doubt.
CITIZENS
_Nothing has killed him! They are not the gods!_
SLAG (_to Agmar_)
You have a plan, my master. You have a plan.
AGMAR
Not yet, Slag.
ILLANAUN (_to Oorander_)
These are the men that went to the shrines at Marma.
OORANDER (_in a loud, clear voice_)
Were the Gods of the Mountain seated still at Marma, or were they not
there?
[_The beggars get up hurriedly from their thrones._
DROMEDARY MAN
They were not there.
ILLANAUN
They were not there?
DROMEDARY MAN
Their shrines were empty.
OORANDER
Behold the Gods of the Mountain!
AKMOS
They have indeed come from Marma.
OORANDER
Come. Let us go away to prepare a sacrifice. A mighty sacrifice to
atone for our doubting. (_Exeunt_)
SLAG
My most wise master!
AGMAR
No, no, Slag. I do not know what has befallen. When I went by Marma
only two weeks ago the idols of green jade were still seated there.
OOGNO
We are saved now.
THAHN
Ay, we are saved.
AGMAR
We are saved, but I know not how.
OOGNO
Never had beggars such a time.
THIEF
I will go out and watch. (_He creeps out_)
ULF
Yet I have a fear.
OOGNO
A fear? Why, we are saved.
ULF
Last night I dreamed.
OOGNO
What was your dream?
ULF
It was nothing. I dreamed that I was thirsty and one gave me Woldery
wine; yet there was a fear in my dream.
THAHN
When I drink Woldery wine I am afraid of nothing.
THIEF (_reëntering_)
They are making a pleasant banquet ready for us; they are killing
lambs, and girls are there with fruits, and there is to be much Woldery
wine.
MLAN
Never had beggars such a time.
AGMAR
Do any doubt us now?
THIEF
I do not know.
MLAN
When will the banquet be?
THIEF
When the stars come out.
OOGNO
Ah! It is sunset already. There will be good eating.
THAHN
We shall see the girls come in with baskets upon their heads.
OOGNO
There will be fruits in the baskets.
THAHN
All the fruits of the valley.
MLAN
Oh, how long we have wandered along the ways of the world!
SLAG
Oh, how hard they were!
THAHN
And how dusty!
OOGNO
And how little wine!
MLAN
How long we have asked and asked, and for how much!
AGMAR
We to whom all things are coming now at last!
THIEF
I fear lest my art forsake me now that good things come without
stealing.
AGMAR
You will need your art no longer.
SLAG
The wisdom of my master shall suffice us all our days.
[_Enter a frightened Man. He kneels before Agmar and abates his
forehead._
MAN
Master, we implore you, the people beseech you.
[_Agmar and the beggars in the attitude of the gods sit silent._
MAN
Master, it is terrible. (_The beggars maintain silence_) It is
terrible when you wander in the evening. It is terrible on the edge of
the desert in the evening. Children die when they see you.
AGMAR
In the desert? When did you see us?
MAN
Last night, master. You were terrible last night. You were terrible in
the gloaming. When your hands were stretched out and groping. You were
feeling for the city.
AGMAR
Last night do you say?
MAN
You were terrible in the gloaming!
AGMAR
You yourself saw us?
MAN
Yes, master, you were terrible. Children too saw you and they died.
AGMAR
You say you saw us?
MAN
Yes, master. Not as you are now, but otherwise. We implore you, master,
not to wander at evening. You are terrible in the gloaming. You are--
AGMAR
You say we appeared not as we are now. How did we appear to you?
MAN
Otherwise, master, otherwise.
AGMAR
But how did we appear to you?
MAN
You were all green, master, all green in the gloaming, all of rock
again as you used to be in the mountains. Master, we can bear to see
you in flesh like men, but when we see rock walking it is terrible, it
is terrible.
AGMAR
That is how we appeared to you?
MAN
Yes, master. Rock should not walk. When children see it they do not
understand. Rock should not walk in the evening.
AGMAR
There have been doubters of late. Are they satisfied?
MAN
Master, they are terrified. Spare us, master.
AGMAR
It is wrong to doubt. Go and be faithful.
[_Exit Man._
SLAG
What have they seen, master?
AGMAR
They have seen their own fears dancing in the desert. They have seen
something green after the light was gone, and some child has told them
a tale that it was us. I do not know what they have seen. What should
they have seen?
ULF
Something was coming this way from the desert, he said.
SLAG
What should come from the desert?
AGMAR
They are a foolish people.
ULF
That man's white face has seen some frightful thing.
SLAG
A frightful thing?
ULF
That man's face has been near to some frightful thing.
AGMAR
It is only we that have frightened them and their fears have made them
foolish.
[_Enter an Attendant with a torch or lantern which he places in a
receptacle. Exit._
THAHN
Now we shall see the faces of the girls when they come to the banquet.
MLAN
Never had beggars such a time.
AGMAR
Hark! They are coming. I hear footsteps.
THAHN
The dancing girls! They are coming!
THIEF
There is no sound of flutes, they said they would come with music.
OOGNO
What heavy boots they have; they sound like feet of stone.
THAHN
I do not like to hear their heavy tread. Those that would dance to
_us_ must be light of foot.
AGMAR
I shall not smile at them if they are not airy.
MLAN
They are coming very slowly. They should come nimbly to us.
THAHN
They should dance as they come. But the footfall is like the footfall
of heavy crabs.
ULF (_in a loud voice, almost chanting_)
I have a fear, an old fear and a boding. We have done ill in the sight
of the seven gods. Beggars we were and beggars we should have remained.
We have given up our calling and come in sight of our doom. I will no
longer let my fear be silent; it shall run about and cry; it shall go
from me crying, like a dog from out of a doomed city; for my fear has
seen calamity and has known an evil thing.
SLAG (_hoarsely_)
Master!
AGMAR (_rising_)
Come, come!
[_They listen. No one speaks. The stony boots come on. Enter in
single file through door in right of back, a procession of seven green
men, even hands and faces are green; they wear greenstone sandals; they
walk with knees extremely wide apart, as having sat cross-legged for
centuries; their right arms and right forefingers point upward, right
elbows resting on left hands; they stoop grotesquely. Halfway to the
footlights they left wheel. They pass in front of the seven beggars,
now in terrified attitudes, and six of them sit down in the attitude
described, with their backs to the audience. The leader stands, still
stooping._
OOGNO (_cries out just as they wheel left_)
The Gods of the Mountain!
AGMAR (_hoarsely_)
Be still! They are dazzled by the light. They may not see us.
[_The leading Green Thing points his forefinger at the lantern--the
flame turns green. When the six are seated the leader points one by one
at each of the seven beggars, shooting out his forefinger at them. As
he does this each beggar in his turn gathers himself back on to his
throne and crosses his legs, his right arm goes stiffly upward with
forefinger erect, and a staring look of horror comes into his eyes. In
this attitude the beggars sit motionless while a green light falls upon
their faces. The gods go out._
_Presently enter the Citizens, some with victuals and fruit. One
touches a beggar's arm and then another's._
CITIZEN
They are cold; they have turned to stone.
[_All abase themselves, foreheads to the floor._
ONE
We have doubted them. We have doubted them. They have turned to stone
because we have doubted them.
ANOTHER
They were the true gods.
ALL
They were the true gods.
CURTAIN
THE GOLDEN DOOM
PERSONS
THE KING
CHAMBERLAIN
CHIEF PROPHET
GIRL
BOY
SPIES
FIRST PROPHET
SECOND PROPHET
FIRST SENTRY
SECOND SENTRY
STRANGER
ATTENDANTS
_Scene: Outside the King's great door in Zericon._
_Time: Some while before the fall of Babylon._
THE GOLDEN DOOM
_Two Sentries pace to and fro, then halt, one on each side of the
great door._
FIRST SENTRY
The day is deadly sultry.
SECOND SENTRY
I would that I were swimming down the Gyshon, on the cool side, under
the fruit trees.
FIRST SENTRY
It is like to thunder or the fall of a dynasty.
SECOND SENTRY
It will grow cool by night-fall. Where is the King?
FIRST SENTRY
He rows in his golden barge with ambassadors or whispers with captains
concerning future wars. The stars spare him!
SECOND SENTRY
Why do you say "the stars spare him"?
FIRST SENTRY
Because if a doom from the stars fall suddenly on a king it swallows up
his people and all things round about him, and his palace falls and the
walls of his city and citadel, and the apes come in from the woods and
the large beasts from the desert, so that you would not say that a king
had been there at all.
SECOND SENTRY
But why should a doom from the stars fall on the King?
FIRST SENTRY
Because he seldom placates them.
SECOND SENTRY
Ah! I have heard that said of him.
FIRST SENTRY
Who are the stars that a man should scorn them? Should they that rule
the thunder, the plague and the earthquake withhold these things save
for much prayer? Always ambassadors are with the King, and his
commanders, come in from distant lands, prefects of cities and makers
of the laws, but never the priests of the stars.
SECOND SENTRY
Hark! Was that thunder?
FIRST SENTRY
Believe me, the stars are angry.
[_Enter a Stranger. He wanders toward the King's door, gazing about
him._
SENTRIES (_lifting their spears at him_)
Go back! Go back!
STRANGER
Why?
FIRST SENTRY
It is death to touch the King's door.
STRANGER
I am a stranger from Thessaly.
FIRST SENTRY
It is death even for a stranger.
STRANGER
Your door is strangely sacred.
FIRST SENTRY
It is death to touch it.
[_The Stranger wanders off._
[_Enter two children hand in hand._
BOY (_to the Sentry_)
I want to see the King to pray for a hoop.
[_The Sentry smiles._
BOY (_pushes the door; to girl_)
I cannot open it. (_To the Sentry_) Will it do as well if I pray
to the King's door?
SENTRY
Yes, quite as well. (_Turns to talk to the other Sentry_) Is there
anyone in sight?
SECOND SENTRY (_shading his eyes_)
Nothing but a dog, and he far out on the plain.
FIRST SENTRY
Then we can talk awhile and eat bash.
BOY
King's door, I want a little hoop.
[_The Sentries take a little bash between finger and thumb from
pouches and put that wholly forgotten drug to their lips._
GIRL (_pointing_)
My father is a taller soldier than that.
BOY
My father can write. He taught me.
GIRL
Ho! Writing frightens nobody. My father is a soldier.
BOY
I have a lump of gold. I found it in the stream that runs down to
Gyshon.
GIRL
I have a poem. I found it in my own head.
BOY
Is it a long poem?
GIRL
No. But it would have been only there were no more rhymes for sky.
BOY
What is your poem?
GIRL
I saw a purple bird
Go up against the sky
And it went up and up
And round about did fly.
BOY
I saw it die.
GIRL
That doesn't scan.
BOY
Oh, that doesn't matter.
GIRL
Do you like my poem?
BOY
Birds aren't purple.
GIRL
My bird was.
BOY
Oh!
GIRL
Oh, you don't like my poem!
BOY
Yes, I do.
GIRL
No, you don't; you think it horrid.
BOY
No. I don't.
GIRL
Yes, you do. Why didn't you say you liked it? It is the only poem I
ever made.
BOY
I do like it. I do like it.
GIRL
You don't, you don't!
BOY
Don't be angry. I'll write it on the door for you.
GIRL
You'll write it?
BOY
Yes, I can write it. My father taught me. I'll write it with my lump of
gold. It makes a yellow mark on the iron door.
GIRL
Oh, do write it! I would like to see it written like real poetry.
[_The Boy begins to write. The Girl watches._
FIRST SENTRY
You see, we'll be fighting again soon.
SECOND SENTRY
Only a little war. We never have more than a little war with the
hill-folk.
FIRST SENTRY
When a man goes to fight, the curtains of the gods wax thicker than
ever before between his eyes and the future; he may go to a great or to
a little war.
SECOND SENTRY
There can only be a little war with the hill-folk.
FIRST SENTRY
Yet sometimes the gods laugh.
SECOND SENTRY
At whom?
FIRST SENTRY
At kings.
SECOND SENTRY
Why have you grown uneasy about this war in the hills?
FIRST SENTRY
Because the King is powerful beyond any of his fathers, and has more
fighting men, more horses, and wealth that could have ransomed his
father and his grandfather and dowered their queens and daughters; and
every year his miners bring him more from the opal-mines and from the
turquoise-quarries. He has grown very mighty.
SECOND SENTRY
Then he will the more easily crush the hill-folk in a little war.
FIRST SENTRY
When kings grow very mighty the stars grow very jealous.
BOY
I've written your poem.
GIRL
Oh, have you really?
BOY
Yes, I'll read it to you. (_He reads_)
I saw a purple bird
Go up against the sky
And it went up and up
And round about did fly.
I saw it die.
GIRL
It doesn't scan.
BOY
That doesn't matter.
[_Enter furtively a Spy, who crosses stage and goes out. The Sentries
cease to talk._
GIRL
That man frightens me.
BOY
He is only one of the King's spies.
GIRL
But I don't like the King's spies. They frighten me.
BOY
Come on, then, we'll run away.
SENTRY (_noticing the children again_)
Go away, go away! The King is coming, he will eat you.
[_The Boy throws a stone at the Sentry and runs out. Enter another
Spy, who crosses the stage. Enter third Spy, who notices the door. He
examines it and utters an owl-like whistle. No. 2 comes back. They do
not speak. Both whistle. No. 3 comes. All examine the door. Enter the
King and his Chamberlain. The King wears a purple robe. The Sentries
smartly transfer their spears to their left hands and return their
right arms to their right sides. They then lower their spears until
their points are within an inch of the ground, at the same time raising
their right hands above their heads. They stand for some moments thus.
Then they lower their right arms to their right sides, at the same time
raising their spears. In the next motion they take their spears into
their right hands and lower the butts to the floor, where they were
before, the spears slanting forward a little. Both Sentries must move
together precisely._
FIRST SPY (_runs forward to the King and kneels, abasing his
forehead to the floor_)
Something has written on the iron door.
CHAMBERLAIN
On the iron door!
KING
Some fool has done it. Who has been here since yesterday?
FIRST SENTRY (_shifts his hand a little higher on his spear,
brings the spear to his side and closes his heels all in one motion; he
then takes one pace backward with his right foot; then he kneels on his
right knee; when he has done this he speaks, but not before_)
Nobody, Majesty, but a stranger from Thessaly.
KING
Did he touch the iron door?
FIRST SENTRY
No, Majesty; he tried to, but we drove him away.
KING
How near did he come?
FIRST SENTRY
Nearly to our spears, Majesty.
KING
What was his motive in seeking to touch the iron door?
FIRST SENTRY
I do not know, Majesty.
KING
Which way did he go?
FIRST SENTRY (_pointing left_)
That way, Majesty, an hour ago.
[_The King whispers with one of his Spies, who stoops and examines
the ground and steals away. The Sentry rises._
KING (_to his two remaining Spies_)
What does this writing say?
A SPY
We cannot read, Majesty.
KING
A good spy should know everything.
SECOND SPY
We watch, Majesty, and we search out, Majesty. We read shadows, and we
read footprints, and whispers in secret places. But we do not read
writing.
KING (_to the Chamberlain_)
See what it is.
CHAMBERLAIN (_goes up and reads_)
It is treason, Majesty.
KING
Read it.
CHAMBERLAIN
I saw a purple bird
Go up against the sky,
And it went up and up
And round about did fly.
I saw it die.
FIRST SENTRY (_aside_)
The stars have spoken.
KING (_to the Sentry_)
Has anyone been here but the stranger from Thessaly?
SENTRY (_kneeling as before_)
Nobody, Majesty.
KING
You saw nothing?
FIRST SENTRY
Nothing but a dog far out upon the plain and the children of the guard
at play.
KING (_to the Second Sentry_)
And you?
SECOND SENTRY (_kneeling_)
Nothing, Majesty.
CHAMBERLAIN
That is strange.
KING
It is some secret warning.
CHAMBERLAIN
It is treason.
KING
It is from the stars.
CHAMBERLAIN
No, no, Majesty. Not from the stars, not from the stars. Some man has
done it. Yet the thing should be interpreted. Shall I send for the
prophets of the stars?
[_The King beckons to his Spies. They run up to him._
KING