_The scene is the same as before. We have given up all hope of a
pirate ship rocking on the sea. Our plot still twists us around its
little finger. The curtain rises on the tableau of the second act. Old
Petey shows again at the window to the right._
DUKE: What done it? What done it? I asks yer.
PATCH: Jest when everythin' was goin' pretty.
CAPTAIN: Jest when she was about ter hit.
DARLIN': Me heart near stopped--I was that excited.
(_The pirates sit in deep dejection._)
DUKE: The mystery o' this business is how the blinkin' lantern went
out.
CAPTAIN: Ol' Petey done his part.
PATCH: He doused herself in time.
CAPTAIN: It was the lantern done it.
DUKE: When there were n't no light at all, the Royal 'Arry, she jest
sniffed willainy and dropped anchor.
PATCH: I was repeatin' Smash yer devil! Smash yer devil!--kinder
hurryin' her on.
DARLIN': I was sayin' Now I lay me--throbbin' with excitement.
DUKE: It was n't ile. I put ile in the lantern meself. Captain, yer
seen me put in ile.
CAPTAIN: I seen yer. And I swished it meself ter be sure.
PATCH: Nothin 's been right since that ol' lady hanged me ter a
gibbet.
CAPTAIN: There we was watchin'--
PATCH: Pop!
CAPTAIN: And all of a sudden--quicker 'n seven devils--the bloomin'
lantern went all ter pieces. It 's grog, I says. Snakes is next. It
were a comfert to the ol' Captain ter know that all o' yer seen it. I
seen a yeller rhinoceros once, runnin' along with purple mice--all
alone I seen it--and it kinder sickened me o' rum.
PATCH: Does yer think the lantern exploded?
DUKE: Did yer ever hear o' a ship's lantern explodin'? I asks yer,
Captain.
CAPTAIN: Yer talks silly, Patch. That lantern has hung fer twenty year
on ol' Flint's ship--swingin' easy and contented all 'round the
Horn--and it ain 't never exploded once.
DUKE: Swabs' lanterns explode, stoopid. Ships' lanterns don 't.
Captain, I feels as mournful as when Flint's clock did n't tick no
more and we knowed he was took by the blessed angels.
CAPTAIN: I ain 't meself as gay as a cuckoo--not quite I ain 't.
PATCH: Ever since that ol' lady--
DUKE: Lay off on that ol' lady!
(_They sit in silence, in dejection. All stare stupidly at the floor.
For a moment it seems as if nothing more will be said and the audience
might as well go home. But presently the Duke sees something at the
rear of the cabin. He looks as you or I would look if we saw a yellow
elephant taking its after-dinner coffee in the sitting-room; but, as
he is a pirate, he is not frightened--merely interested and intent. He
brushes his hand before his eyes, to make sure it is no delusion--not
grog or rum. Then he rises softly. He crosses to the window. Very
gently he touches the glass. He finds it is really broken. He loosens
a piece of the shattered glass. The others are sunk in such melancholy
that they do not observe him._
_He gazes through the window, studying the direction of the broken
ship's lantern. He traces the angle with his finger. The gesture ends
with an accusing finger pointing at Red Joe. He whistles softly. For a
moment his eye rests upon the gun, which leans against the clock. He
has guessed the riddle. He advances casually, but with dirk in hand.
He comes in front of Joe. Suddenly he presses the blade of his dirk
against Joe's stomach._)
DUKE: Captain! Captain! Quick! Tie him up!
(_Joe is bound again with rope._)
DUKE: It 's him that done it. It 's Red Joe.
CAPTAIN: How did he get loose?
DUKE: (_as he points to the knife on the floor_). Does yer see that
knife? Does yer see Joe? I 'm tellin' yer. It was him shot out the
lantern.
PATCH: Did n't I help ter tie him meself?
DUKE: Askin' yer pardon, Captain, but you and Patch has the brains o'
a baby aligator. A stuffed rhinocopoterus is pos'-lutely nothin'.
Askin' yer pardon fer speakin' so plain. I does all yer thinkin' for
yer. There 's some folks settin' here as are fat-headed, and thinks
ships' lanterns explode.
PATCH: Easy now, ol' dear. Yer alers pitchin' inter me, 'cause I 'm
good-natered.
CAPTAIN: Red Joe, I calls yer a dirty spy. A swab! A landlubber! Fer
one copper farthin' I 'd ketch yer one with this hook.
DUKE: It was me discovered him. I asks yer, Captain, ter leave Red Joe
ter me. I hates him most perticerler.
(_Betsy enters from the kitchen._)
BETSY: Did you call, Captain?
DARLIN': Nobody ain 't callin' yer, dearie. Now jest toddle back to
the kitchen.
DUKE: This ain 't no place fer a leetle girl. It will give yer bad
dreams. Mince pie 's nothin'.
(_Betsy attempts to leave the cabin by the door that leads to the
cliffs--the door at the rear of the cabin._)
DUKE: Where you goin', Betsy?
BETSY: I 've an errand in the village.
DUKE: Well, yer ain 't goin'. It ain 't no night fer a leetle girl ter
be out. I ain 't goin' ter have me Duchess snifflin' with a cold. Go
to grandma! It was me discovered him, Captain. I 'm askin' yer a
favor. He 's a snooper.
PATCH: Captain, I gets rusty.
CAPTAIN: Lay off, me hearties. Duke! Patch! I loves both o' yer. I
loves yer equal, like two mugs o' grog as is full alike. Yer can pitch
dice ter see which does it.
(_He places the dice cup on the table beside the candle. The Duke and
Patch take their places. Betsy, under cover of this centered interest,
runs to Red Joe, who whispers to her._)
DUKE: I drops 'em in me mug, so 's they can get a smell o' rum. The
leetle bones is me friends. I never throws less 'n a five spot. I
makes a pint o' shakin' the bones till they rattles jolly. I likes the
sound o' it even better 'n the blessed scrapin' o' a spoon what 's
stirrin' grog. Write it on me tombstone--if I rots ashore--He was the
kinder feller as never throwed less 'n a five spot.
[Illustration: "The leetle bones is me friends"]
CAPTAIN: Go 'long, Duke. Bones, as is kept waitin', sulks.
PATCH: One or three?
DUKE: One 's enough. I 'm talkin' to yer, bones. I wants sixes,
sweeties.
(_As he throws Betsy jostles the candle with her arm. It overturns and
falls. The cabin is dark. You can see her run from the cabin and pass
the windows to the left._)
DUKE: Now yer done it!
PATCH: You is all thumbs, Betsy.
CAPTAIN: Easy, mates! It were jest an accident. Betsy, fetch a seacoal
from the hearth! Betsy! We ain 't goin' ter wallop yer. Where are yer,
Betsy?
DARLIN': Come out o' yer hidin'!
CAPTAIN: I 'll light the candle meself.
(_He takes it to the fire, lights it and returns to the table._)
CAPTAIN: There yer are--blazin' like ol' Petey. Yer had better sit
down, Betsy. Crack me stump, where is the girl?
PATCH: Kinder silly o' her ter run away. We ain 't never walloped her.
DUKE: Women 's silly folks. I calls 'em ninnies. It don 't do no good
tryin' ter understand 'em. Now then, ol' lionheart, are yer ready?
(_He throws._) Two fives! I 've done yer, Patch.
(_It is Patch's turn. He kisses the cubes._)
PATCH: Yer as sweet as honey. Tell me yer loves me. Me dirk is itchin'
fer yer answer. Luck 's a lady as dotes on me. (_He throws._) A pair
o' sixes! Does yer see it, Duke? Stick yer blinkin' eye right down
agin the table! It 's me, Captain. (_He rises and draws his knife._)
Joey are yer ready?
JOE: God, if I were loose I 'd take you by the dirty gullet and twist
it until you roared. I 'd kick you off my path like a snarling cur. Of
what filth does nature sometimes compound a man! Shall a skunk walk
two-legged to infect the air? Three cowards will hang on Wapping wharf
before the month is up.
PATCH: Are n't meanin' us, are yer Joey?
JOE: And I 'll tell you more.
CAPTAIN: Ain 't we listenin' to yer? Yer can talk spry, as Patch here
has a leetle job ter do, and it 's nearin' bed time.
DUKE: We does n't want ter sit up late and lose our beauty sleep jest
listenin' to a speech.
JOE: A pirate takes his chance of death. You guard your dirty skins by
wrecking ships upon the rocks. You dare not pit yourselves against a
breathing victim. Like carrion-crows you sit to a vile and bloated
banquet.
PATCH: Tip me the wink, Captain, when yer has heard enough.
JOE: Stand off, you whelp! The King of England fights in France--
DUKE: Ain 't yer 'shamed that you is not there ter help?
JOE: I 'll tell you why I am not in France. I swore to his majesty
that I would clear his coast of pirates. My plans are made. The
channel is swept by gunboats. They will close in on you tomorrow--you
and all the dirty vermin that befoul these cliffs.
DUKE: He talks so big, ye 'd think he was the King himself.
(_Everyone laughs at this. The Duke takes the cloak from the chest. In
derision he hangs it across Red Joe's shoulders._)
DUKE: We 'll play ch'rades. Here 's yer costume, Joey. There! It fits
yer like the skin o' a snake. We makes yer King. Yer looks like yer
was paradin' in St. James's park, lampin' a Duchess.
PATCH: Does yer majesty need a new 'igh chancellor. I asks yer fer it.
I wants a fine house in London town, runnin' ter the Strand, and
peacocks struttin' in the garden.
CAPTAIN: King, I asks yer ter cast yer gig on me. I 'd be a right
smart Archbishop o' Canterbury. Me whiskers is 'clesiastical.
DUKE: I offers meself, King, as Lord 'Igh Admiral o' the Navy. I
swears fluent.
DARLIN': Has yer a Princess vacant? I lolls graceful on a throne.
(_The horrid creature spits._)
CAPTAIN: 'Vast there, me hearties! I 'm thinkin' I 'm hearin' the
sound o' footsteps.
DUKE: (_to Patch_). Did yer lordship hear any sound?
PATCH: Askin' your Grice's pardon, I did n't ketch a thing. Did you
hear anythin', Princess?
DARLIN': There 's nothin' come ter me pearly ears.
CAPTAIN: Silence! I wants ter listen.
(_No sound is heard._)
CAPTAIN: Well, Patch, yer had better get yer dirk ready. I 'm uncommon
sleepy. I wants ter get ter bed.
DARLIN': Ketch him a deep one, Patch.
PATCH: I takes it mighty kind o' you, Captain. Yer has alers been a
lovin' father ter me. Joey, I 'll tell yer what yer are. Yer the kind
o' feller I hates most perticerler. Yer a spy! Say yer prayers, you
hissin' snake!
(_He sharpens his dirk and gayly tests it on his whiskers._)
JOE: My wasted day is done. In the tempest's wrack the stars are dim
and faith 's the only compass. Now or hereafter, what matters it? The
sun will gild the meadows as of yesteryear. The moon will fee the
world with silver coin. And all across the earth men will traffic on
their little errands until nature calls them home. I am a stone cast
in a windy pool where scarce a ripple shows. Life 's but a candle in
the wind. Mine will not burn to socket.
DUKE: He 's all wound up like a clock--jest tickin' words.
CAPTAIN: Patch, Joe is tellin' us poetical that his wick has burned
right down to the bottle. Yer had better put it out, without more
hesitatin'.
(_And now, as they are intent for the coming blow--suddenly!
quietly!--a woman's hand and arm--a claw, rather, with long, thin,
shrivelled fingers--have come in sight at the window with the broken
glass._
_It quite terrifies me as I write. My pencil shakes. Old ladies will
want to scream._
_The fingers grope along the sill. They fumble on the wall. They
stretch to reach the gun which stands beside the clock. Another inch
and they will grasp it and Red Joe will be saved. The arm rubs against
the pendulum of the clock. It swings and the clock starts to tick. And
still no one has seen the terrible hand. And now the fingers are
thrust blindly against the gun. It falls with a clatter on the stones.
The hand and arm disappear. But Darlin' has seen the swinging pendulum
and shrieks._)
DUKE: Does yer see it, Captain?
PATCH: Horrers!
DUKE: It 's never went since Flint was hanged.
CAPTAIN: And would n't run till his death 's revenged and him layin'
peaceful in his coffin.
PATCH: Does yer think it 's grog? Does all o' yer see it?
DUKE: What done it?
(_From the distance is heard a long-drawn whistle._)
CAPTAIN: What 's that?
PATCH: It makes me jumpy.
DUKE: It ain 't a night when folks whistles jest fer cows and such.
Finish yer job, Patch.
PATCH: Are yer feared o' somethin' special, Duke?
DUKE: Feared? If we ain 't quick, there 'll be a gibbet fer all o' us.
CAPTAIN: Ain 't the clock tickin' peaceful?
PATCH: She ain 't got no right ter tick. It 's like a dead man
talkin'.
DUKE: Quick! Give me the knife! I 'll stick it in him. And when I 'm
done, we scatters. There 's trouble brewin'. Termorrer night, when the
tide is out, we meets at the holler cave. And may the devil lend a
helpin' hand. Snooper, are yer ready? Does yer see this here blade
shinin' in the candle? In about one minute I 'll be wipin' off a
streak o' red upon me breeks. Flint--blessin' on yer gentle soul!--yer
can rest in peace!
[Illustration: "I 'll be wipin off a streak o' red upon me breeks"]
(_He approaches Joe with upraised knife. Suddenly he cries out._)
DUKE: It 's him the fortin-teller mentioned. It 's the man in a velvet
cloak!
CAPTAIN: It 's him! Me God! Me hook!
(_With a growl of rage the pirates leap forward toward Joe, but are
arrested by the sound of running feet. Into the cabin rushes the
sailor captain, followed by three sailors. The sailor captain cries
"_'Vast there!_" and the pirates turn to face his men. They put up a
fight worthy of old Flint. Darlin', to escape the rough-and-tumble
runs half way up the ladder. The table is overturned. The stools are
kicked across the room. Even the precious grog is spilled. But the
pirates' valor is insufficient. They are overpowered at last and tied.
Red Joe's cords are cut. Into the cabin Betsy comes running, followed
by old Meg._)
BETSY: Joe! Hal! Thank God, you are safe.
JOE: Margaret!
SAILOR CAPTAIN: I am the captain of the Royal Harry.
JOE: Captain, I charge you to arrest these men.
SAILOR CAPTAIN: Yes, your Royal Highness.
DUKE: Royal 'Ighness? Did yer hear what he said?
DARLIN': 'Ighness nothin'. He 's jest a snooper.
(_She sits on the floor, with her head on the Duke's knee. She is
staunch to the last--a true cook for a pirates' band._)
JOE: You will transport them in chains to London to wait their
sentence by a court of law.
SAILOR CAPTAIN: Yes, your majesty.
JOE: You mistake me, Captain. My father is the King of England. I am
but the Prince of Wales.
SAILOR CAPTAIN: Alas, sire, we bring you heavy news. Your Royal
Father, the King of England, has been killed, fighting gloriously on
the soil of France.
JOE: Bear with me. My grief has leaped the channel. My thought is a
silent mourner at my father's grave. Shall a King sink to the measure
of a mound of turf for the tread of a peasant's foot? Where is now the
ermine robe, the glistening crown, the harness of a fighting hour, the
sceptre that marked the giddy office, the voice, the flashing eye that
stirred a coward to bravery, the iron gauntlet shaking in the pallid
face of France? All--all covered by a spadeful of country earth.
Captain, has Calais fallen to our army's siege? Are the French lilies
plucked for England's boutoniere?
SAILOR CAPTAIN: Calais has fallen.
JOE: Then God be praised even in this hard hour. By heaven's help I
throw off the idle practice of my youth. The empty tricks and trivial
habits of the careless years, I renounce them all. A wind has scoured
the sullen clouds of youth. My past has been a ragged garment, stained
with heedless hours. Tonight I cast it off, like a coat that is out at
elbow. My father henceforth lives in me.
(_Meg, at her entrance, has sniffed the wasted grog. Her nose, surer
than a hazel wand, inclines above the hearth. She bends to the lovely
puddle. She employs and tastes her dripping finger--covertly, with
mannerly regard to the Prince's rhetoric--sucking in secret his good
health and happy returns, so to speak. The liquor warms her
tongue--not to drunkenness, but to ease and comfort. The hearth-stone
is her tavern chair._)
MEG: (_not boisterously--with just a flip of her trickling finger, as
if it were a foaming cup_). Hooray! I wants ter be the first, yer
Majesty, ter swear allegiance to yer throne. I saw yer future in the
glass. Ol' Meg knowed yer, like she had rocked yer in the cradle. I
told yer I would come in yer hour o' danger. It was me reached through
the winder fer the gun ter save yer. It was me whistle that yer heard,
dearie, hurryin' up the sailormen as Betsy went ter fetch.
JOE: Thanks my good woman. We grant you a pension for your love.
(_She quests back to her pool of grog. She finds a spoon. She sits to
the delicious salvage, with back against the chimney and woolen legs
out-stretched. Speeches to her are nothing now. We cannot expect her
help in winding up our play. The burden falls on Joe. We must be
patient through a sentimental page or two._)
JOE: Ha! My velvet cloak, which I left at Castle Crag when I laid
aside the Prince and took disguise. These unintentioned ruffians by
their dirty jest have clothed me to my office.
SAILOR CAPTAIN: I swear my allegiance, your Majesty.
JOE: I rely on my sailors to clear the coast and seas. But first I
want your allegiance in another high concern. Some fourteen years ago,
when I was a lad of ten, I journeyed with my royal father to the
castle of the Duke of Cornwall, which stands high on the wind-swept
coast. Its giddy towers rise sheer above the ocean until the very
rooks nesting in the battlements grow dizzy at the height. It is the
outer bastion of the world, laughing to scorn the ocean's siege.
In that castle, Captain, there lived a little girl; and she and I
romped the sounding corridors together. And once I led her to an open
'brasure in the steep-pitched wall, and held her so that she might see
the waves curling on the rocks below. And tales of mermaids I
invented, and shipwreck and treasure buried in the noisy caverns of
the rock, where twice a day the greedy tide goes in and out to seek
its fortune. And far afield we wandered and stood waist-deep in the
golden meadows, until the weary twilight called us home.
And I remember, when tired with play, that her mother sang to us an
old song, a lullaby. Her voice was soft, with a gentleness that only a
mother knows who sits with drowsy children.
And to that little girl I was betrothed. It was sworn with oath and
signature that some day I would marry her and that, when I became king
of England in the revolving years, she would be its queen.
BETSY: By what miracle did you know me, Hal?
JOE: It was the song you sang. Your voice was the miracle that told
the secret. With unvarnished speech I woo you. I love you, Margaret,
and I ask you to be my wife.
MEG: (_faintly--floating in a golden sea of grog_) Hooray!
(_Joe takes Betsy in his arms and kisses her._)
JOE: The magic of your lips, my dear, is the miracle that answers me.
My loyal sailors, I present you. Margaret, Duchess of Cornwall,
Countess of Devon, Princess of the Western Marches, by right and title
possessor of all land 'twixt Exeter and Land's End. And now, by her
consent and the grace of God, the wife of Harry, King of England.
CAPTAIN: Leetle Betsy, I fergives yer.
DUKE: I asks yer health, though I swings termorrer.
PATCH: And may yer live long and 'appy!
DARLIN': We 're lovin' yer, Betsy.
BETSY: My gracious lord, for these three years this cabin has been my
home. These are my friends--the only friends I have ever known. They
fed me when I had no food and they kept me warm against the cold. Must
they hang? I ask you to pardon them.
DARLIN': Glory ter God!
JOE: The pardon is granted. Captain, strike off their irons!
DARLIN': We loves yer, Betsy.
CAPTAIN: We are fonder of yer than grog and singin' angels.
PATCH: I thanks yer, King.
DUKE: It were jest an hour ago, settin' in that chair, I asks ter
splice yer, Betsy, keel ter topsail. The ol' Duke never thought the
Countess of all them places, and the Queen o' England, ter boot, would
ever be settin' on his knee, pullin' at his whiskers--him askin' her
ter name the 'appy day.
BETSY: It was a prior attachment, Duke.
CAPTAIN: We 'll serve yer, King, like we served ol' Flint.
PATCH: Top and bottom, fore and aft.
DUKE: We 'll brag how the King o' England and us has drunk grog
together, and how the Queen washed up the mugs.
MEG: (_in a whisper_). Hooray!
JOE: And now, Captain, lead the way. We must speed to London.
BETSY: Good by, Duke. Some day you will find a girl who cooks roast
pig that crackles.
DUKE: A blessin', Betsy, on yer laughin' eyes!
CAPTAIN: A health ter King Hal and his blushin' bride!
ALL: King Hal! Leetle Betsy!
(_With a wave of the hand Joe departs, and with him, Betsy, who kisses
her fingers to the pirates in farewell. The sailors follow. The
pirates and Darlin' are left. The pirates sit at the table. They
exchange glances of satisfaction. They unbutton for a quiet evening at
home. Kings are but an episode in a pirate's life. They return to the
happy routine of their lives. Our adventure has circled to its
start._)
PATCH: Darlin'! Me friend, the Duke, is thirsty. Yer had better mix
another pot o' grog. Yer does n't want ter be a foolish virgin and get
ketched without no grog.
DARLIN': (_at the fire_). Yer coddles yer stomich, Patch.
PATCH: The Duke, he knows a leetle dear as is jest waitin' ter come
flutterin' ter his lovin' arms. I thinks it 's yer whiskers, Duke.
CAPTAIN: Yer can pull one, Betsy, fer the locket that yer wears. We is
laughin' at yer, ol' walrus.
DUKE: Kings is bigger than Dukes. I looses without no kickin' up.
There 's no one like Darlin' fer mixin' grog.
DARLIN': Fer that kind word I 'm lovin' yer.
(_She fills the cups._)
PATCH: It 's grog beats off the melancholy. As soon as me pipes goes
dry, I gets homesick fer the ocean. Here we be, Duke, thrown up at
last ter rot like driftwood on the shore. It was 'appy days when we
sailed with ol' Flint on the Spanish Main.
CAPTAIN: 'Appy days, Patch!
ALL: 'Appy days!
(_They lift their cups in memory of a golden past. It is a contented
family around the evening candle. They are as cozy as old ladies with
their darning. Meg snores in peace as the curtain falls._)
* * * * *
_Our candles have burned to socket. Our pasteboard cabin is bare and
dark. No longer do pirate flags flaunt the ghostly seas. The stormy
ocean, the dizzy cliffs of Devon, melt like an unsubstantial pageant.
Let's put away our toys--the timber leg, the patch, the frightful
hook. Once again, despite the weary signpost of the years, we have run
on the laughing avenues of childhood._