FARDY. It being open!
HYACINTH. Let me tell, let me tell.
FARDY. Of all that was in it.
HYACINTH. I'll tell them that.
FARDY. And gave it to me.
HYACINTH. [_Putting hand on his mouth and dragging him up._] Will you
stop and let me speak?
SERGEANT. We can't be wasting time. Give him here to me.
HYACINTH. I can't do that. He must be let alone.
SERGEANT. [_Seizing him._] He'll be let alone in the lock-up.
HYACINTH. He must not be brought there.
SERGEANT. I'll let no man get him off.
HYACINTH. I will get him off.
SERGEANT. You will not!
HYACINTH. I will.
SERGEANT. Do you think to buy him off?
HYACINTH. I will buy him off with my own confession.
SERGEANT. And what will that be?
HYACINTH. It was I robbed the church.
SERGEANT. That is likely indeed!
HYACINTH. Let him go, and take me. I tell you I did it.
SERGEANT. It would take witnesses to prove that.
HYACINTH. [_Pointing to_ FARDY.] He will be witness.
FARDY. Oh, Mr. Halvey, I would not wish to do that. Get me off and I
will say nothing.
HYACINTH. Sure you must. You will be put on oath in the court.
FARDY. I will not! I will not! All the world knows I don't understand
the nature of an oath!
MR. QUIRKE. [_Coming forward._] Is it blind ye all are?
MRS. DELANE. What are you talking about?
MR. QUIRKE. Is it fools ye all are?
MISS JOYCE. Speak for yourself.
MR. QUIRKE. Is it idiots ye all are?
SERGEANT. Mind who you're talking to.
MR. QUIRKE. [_Seizing_ HYACINTH'S _hands_.] Can't you see? Can't you
hear? Where are your wits? Was ever such a thing seen in this town?
MRS. DELANE. Say out what you have to say.
MR. QUIRKE. A walking saint he is!
MRS. DELANE. Maybe so.
MR. QUIRKE. The preserver of the poor! Talk of the holy martyrs! They
are nothing at all to what he is! Will you look at him! To save that
poor boy he is going! To take the blame on himself he is going! To say
he, himself, did the robbery he is going! Before the magistrate he is
going! To jail he is going! Taking the blame on his own head! Putting
the sin on his own shoulders! Letting on to have done a robbery! Telling
a lie--that it may be forgiven him--to his own injury! Doing all that, I
tell you, to save the character of a miserable slack lad, that rose in
poverty.
[_Murmur of admiration from all._
MR. QUIRKE. Now, what do you say?
SERGEANT. [_Pressing his hand._] Mr. Halvey, you have given us all a
lesson. To please you, I will make no information against the boy,
[_Shakes him and helps him up._] I will put back the half-crown in the
poor-box next Sunday. [_To_ FARDY.] What have you to say to your
benefactor?
FARDY. I'm obliged to you, Mr. Halvey. You behaved very decent to me,
very decent indeed. I'll never let a word be said against you if I live
to be a hundred years.
SERGEANT. [_Wiping eyes with a blue handkerchief._] I will tell it at
the meeting. It will be a great encouragement to them to build up their
character. I'll tell it to the priest and he taking the chair----
HYACINTH. Oh, stop, will you----
MR. QUIRKE. The chair. It's in the chair he, himself, should be. It's in
a chair we will put him now. It's to chair him through the streets we
will. Sure he'll be an example and a blessing to the whole of the town.
[_Seizes_ HALVEY _and seats him in chair_.] Now, Sergeant, give a hand.
Here. Fardy.
[_They all lift the chair with_ HALVEY _in it, wildly protesting_.
MR. QUIRKE. Come along now to the court-house. Three cheers for Hyacinth
Halvey! Hip! hip! hoora!
[_Cheers heard in the distance as the curtain drops._
THE GAZING GLOBE
BY
EUGENE PILLOT
_The Gazing Globe_ is reprinted by special permission of Eugene Pillot.
All rights are retained by the author. This play is protected by
copyright and must not be used without the permission of and payment of
royalty to Eugene Pillot, who may be reached through The 47 Workshop,
Cambridge, Massachusetts.
EUGENE PILLOT
Eugene Pillot, one of the well-known contemporary writers of one-act
plays, was born in Houston, Texas. He was educated in the New York
School of Fine and Applied Arts, at the University of Texas, at Cornell
University, and at Harvard University. While at Harvard, he participated
in the activities of The 47 Workshop.
Mr. Pillot's one-act plays are always characterized by excellent and
well-sustained technic. Among his best-known one-act plays are _The
Gazing Globe_, _Two Crooks and a Lady_, _Telephone Number One_ (a prize
play), _Hunger_, and _My Lady Dreams_. Mr. Pillot's plays have been
produced frequently in schools and Little Theatres of America.
_The Gazing Globe_ originally appeared in _The Stratford Journal_, and
was first produced by the Boston Community Players, February 26, 1920,
with the following cast: ZAMA, Rosalie Manning; OHANO, Beulah Auerbach;
and NIJO, Eugene Pillot. _The Gazing Globe_ has unusually sustained
tone and dramatic suspense.
CHARACTERS
ZAMA
OHANO
NIJO
THE GAZING GLOBE[F]
SCENE: _A soft cream-colored room, bare walled and unfurnished
except for dull-blue grass mats on the floor and brilliant
cushions. In the centre of rear wall is a great circular window
with a dais before it, so that it may be used as a doorway. A
gathered shade of soft blue silk covers the opening of the window._
PLACE: _An island in a southern sea._
TIME: _Not so long ago._
[_The curtain rises on an empty stage._ ZAMA, _an old servant woman
dressed in dull purples and grays, hurries in from the right. She
stops at centre stage and glances about searchingly, then calls in
a weazen voice._
ZAMA. Ohano--Ohano! Where do you be, child?
[_Listens, looks about, sees drawn shade at the rear, and sighs as
she goes to it and starts to raise it._
[_As the shade rolls out of sight we see through the open window a
bit of quaint cliff garden that overlooks a sea of green. The rocks
are higher on the left, near the window, where a purple-pink vine
in full blossom has started to climb. At the right the rocks slope
down to the sea. At centre, stone steps lead up to a slender stone
pedestal that holds a gazing globe, now a brilliant gold in the
late afternoon sunlight._ OHANO, _with hands clasped round the
globe, is gazing at it. She is a woman of the early twenties,
beautiful and gowned in a flowing kimono-like robe of green with
embroideries of white and blue._
ZAMA. [_In a chiding, motherly way._] Ohano, my child, you must not be
so much at that evil ball! How many times be I not telling you it is an
_enchanted_ ball?
OHANO. Yes, Zama, I hope it is enchanted. I've tried every other means
to gain the way to my heart's desire--and they've all failed me. The
story these islanders have woven round this gazing globe may be but a
myth--but if it shows me the way to my freedom, I shall not have looked
at it in vain.
ZAMA. Be you forgetting, child, 'tis said that evil ball shows only the
way to destruction!
OHANO. Yes, these island people will create any myth, go any length, to
keep one thinking, living in their narrow way. You are destined for evil
if you try to follow the urge of your own heart--oh, yes, I know.
ZAMA. But _your_ heart, child, should only be wanting the love of Nijo.
OHANO. Nijo--I am hoping that he will be big enough to help me--but my
lover has been away so long----
ZAMA. But to-day he be coming back--I came to tell you I think I saw his
boat----
OHANO. Nijo's boat? Where?
ZAMA. It be near the edge of the island just where----
OHANO. Why didn't you tell me before?
ZAMA. I came to--but I be forgetting when I see you at that evil ball
again.
OHANO. [_All eagerness._] Perhaps we can see him land--from here on the
rocks--come, Zama, I hear the sound of voices down near the sea--come!
[_They climb to the highest rock._] Look, Zama, the boat is there!
Already there in the green water against the shore!
ZAMA. It do seem to be so. [_Peers toward right._
OHANO. And _there_--is Nijo!
ZAMA. Where, where, child?
OHANO. There--see, he's just coming ashore--oh, Nijo! And look, Zama,
look what the people crowding round him have done--look!
ZAMA. What? My poor eyes be yet uncertain. What do they be doing to your
lover?
OHANO. They have put upon him the Robe of Flame--to greet him with the
highest honor of the island.
ZAMA. So they be. The robe they say the gods themselves did wear when
time did first begin. Nijo must come back a great warrior now--a great
warrior!
OHANO. Oh, how wonderful to return from the wars like that! Zama, I want
to--I _must_ go out into the world and do great things too, like Nijo.
ZAMA. Nijo be coming back, child. That do be enough. Look, what is it
that glitters so in the sun?
OHANO. Why, they are giving something to my red god--something that's
long as a serpent moon--see, he holds it out in admiration, before him.
Just what can it be?
ZAMA. In faith I do believe they have given your hero--a sword!
OHANO. A marvellous sword--look, its jewels flash with the shifting
lights, warm as the colored rifts of sunset!
ZAMA. Such gems do be a tribute to his greatness, Ohano, they do.
OHANO. How gladly would I have the way I seek without such tribute--how
willingly!
ZAMA. And now the crowd do be parting--he leaves the boat and he looks
this way, Ohano--he looks!
OHANO. Nijo, my red wonder of the world!
ZAMA. See, he mounts his steed--he waves to you!
OHANO. Nijo! Nijo!
ZAMA. And now he rides off to come to you here. It is better we be
waiting inside for him--when he brings back his love to his promised
bride.
OHANO. [_As they enter room._] Ah, Zama, he must bring me more than love
this time--much more. Yes, your little Ohano must have more in her life
to-day than just love--and Nijo must show her the way to that realm
where she may stretch her soul and _live_!
ZAMA. The love of so great a man do be enough for any woman, child.
OHANO. Oh, no--oh, no----
ZAMA. But it do be; and evil will fall, I know, if you do be asking more
than love!
OHANO. But I tell you, Nijo's love is not enough. I must have a bigger,
greater thing!
ZAMA. The gods do know of none that be more than love.
OHANO. But there must be, else why would I feel the rush of its pulse
within my veins? Why would my whole being cry out for action and the
glory of doing big things in the lands across the sea? Why, tell me why,
I would feel those things if they were not so?
ZAMA. It be not for me to say, child; but I do be thinking you moon at
that evil ball too much. It do make your sight grow red! It be not wise
to know an enchanted thing so well.
OHANO. If that gazing globe in the garden would only show me the way to
my heart's desire, how gladly would I be the victim of its enchantment!
ZAMA. Nijo's kiss do be your enchantment, child. One touch of his lips
and you do be forgetting all else.
OHANO. If Nijo's kiss can make me forget this fever within me, I want
his kiss as I shall never want anything else in all of this life. I want
it!!
[_Approaching horse's hoofs are heard from off right._
ZAMA. Listen--the horse! Ohano, your lover do be coming!
OHANO. [_Running to the window._] Already? He must have taken the short
way through the cliffs.
ZAMA. Ah, child, do you not be excited as a bird in a storm-wind's
blow?
OHANO. [_Superbly, as she leans against window._] Yes, I await my hero!
ZAMA. He's stopped, child! He do be here! At last he comes back to my
little Ohano!
OHANO. My hope comes! [_With outstretched arms to right._] My Nijo!!
Oh----!
[_She had impulsively started to greet_ NIJO, _but suddenly shrinks
back_.
ZAMA. What do be wrong--what?
OHANO. He's so different--so changed--oh, here he is--ssh!
[NIJO _appears at the window, where he pauses for a moment. He is a
tall, brunette man, scarcely thirty--a handsome, well-knit southern
island type, wearing a flowing robe of flame, with a flaring collar
of old-gold brocade. A peaked hat completes the costume. A curved
sword, with a hilt thickly studded with large jewels and incased in
gold, hangs at his belt. He seems worldly weary and sad as he
advances into the room._
OHANO. Nijo!
NIJO. [_Unimpassioned._] Ohano.
OHANO. [_Eagerly._] You have come back!
NIJO. Yes--and the season of the heat has been gracious to your health,
I hope?
OHANO. Yes--and yours, Nijo?
NIJO. The same.
OHANO. Oh, I am glad--glad as tree-blossoms for the kiss of spring. And
Zama here shares my welcome, don't you?
NIJO. [_Recognizing_ ZAMA.] Ah, Zama.
ZAMA. [_Bowing before him._] The gods do be kind to bring back a hero to
us.
NIJO. Thank you.
ZAMA. Now I do be going for refreshments for your weariness; great it
must be after so long a voyage. [_Exits right._
OHANO. Shall we not sit here?
NIJO. As you will.
[OHANO _and_ NIJO _sit upon mats near the window, partly facing
each other_.
OHANO. They--they gave you a sword at the boat.
NIJO. [_Wearily._] Oh, yes.
OHANO. Even from up here we could see its jewels flash.
NIJO. [_Without interest._] Yes, it is cunningly conceived.
OHANO. How wonderful it must be. Perhaps--I may see it?
NIJO. [_Still wearily._] If you so desire.
[_Unbuckles sword and holds it before himself for her to examine.
She leans over it admiringly, touching the jewels as she speaks of
them._
OHANO. Magnificent! Rubies and emeralds and sapphires! And here are
moonstones and diamonds. How you must prize it.
NIJO. [_Wearily._] Of course, one must.
OHANO. And the very people who tried to stop you from going across the
sea to win your glory have given it to you.
NIJO. That is the way of the world.
OHANO. Show me the way to glory, Nijo.
NIJO. And why?
OHANO. I would travel it too.
NIJO. You--a simple island maiden?
OHANO. I'm not simple. I've grown beyond the people here.
NIJO. But there is glory in the work women must do at home.
OHANO. And I have done my share of it. I want bigger work now--out in
the world.
NIJO. But the simple tasks must be done.
OHANO. I am sick unto death of doing them!
NIJO. But you can't go into the battles of the world. You are an island
woman.
OHANO. This last war has made all women free. If the other island women
cling to the everlasting tradition that woman should not go beyond her
native hearth, let them cling. I shall reach the summit of things and
know the glory of doing big things in the world!
NIJO. But you--sheltered, protected all your life--how can you do it?
OHANO. That's what troubles me. But you were fettered by this island
life and you broke through the bars of convention. How did _you_ do it?
NIJO. [_Sadly._] Ohano, I would not spoil your life by telling you.
OHANO. Spoil it? What do you think is happening to it now? Oh, Nijo,
can't you understand I'm stagnating--_dying_ in this commonplace island
life.
NIJO. I thought that about myself, too, when I started my climb to
glory; but scarcely a moon had passed before I realized the loneliness
of great heights.
OHANO. [_Tigerishly._] Are you trying to turn me from my wish--to have
all the island's glory for yourself?
NIJO. No, but only the valley people enjoy the sublimity of a mountain.
OHANO. [_Scornfully._] Ha!
NIJO. Those who reach the top have lost their perspective. All they see
are the lonely tops of other mountains.
OHANO. [_Sublimely._] But they've had the joy of the climb!
NIJO. And worth what--no more than the mist of the sea.
OHANO. Do you think that satisfies me? I want to find out for myself! I
only want you to tell me the way to use this spirit that boils within my
blood, thirsts for action!
NIJO. That I never will.
OHANO. Oh, what shall I do? I've even implored the sun and the moon!
[_Looks toward sea._] Now I _must_ listen to my dreams--my dreams that
cry and cry: "Look in the gazing globe! Look in the gazing globe! It
will show you the way!" And if it ever does, I'll take that path _no
matter where it leads_.
NIJO. My journey only made me want to come back to the haven of your
love, Ohano. The amber cup of glory left me athirst to be wrapped in the
mantle of your boundless love and warmed with the glow of your heart.
OHANO. [_Surprised._] Your journey has really led you back to me?
NIJO. [_Sadly._] You're my only hope. I've been as mad for you as the
sea for the moonlight.
OHANO. [_Disturbed._] But you had fire and impulse when you went away;
and now--well, you do still yearn for me?
NIJO. [_Quietly, without passion._] The hope for your love has been the
light of my brain, changing from life to dream, from earth to star.
OHANO. My thirst for glory has been that way; but Zama tells me it is as
nothing in the kiss of love. If love has that power, I am willing to
forget all else. Kiss me, Nijo!
NIJO. At last my lips will press yours, as the sun flames to an immortal
moment when it meets the sky.
[_Kneeling opposite each other, their lips meet._ OHANO _instantly
gives a piercing scream and recoils from him_. NIJO _sinks into a
heap_.
OHANO. [_Rising and turning toward the sea, weeping._] Oh, oh, oh!
ZAMA. [_Rushing in from right._] What is it? What is it, Ohano?
OHANO. [_Still weeping._] Oh--ooh.
ZAMA. What do it be, my little Ohano?
OHANO. [_Turning._] His kiss--Nijo's kiss!
ZAMA. Yes?
OHANO. Cold as white marble--_cold_!
ZAMA. Cold as white marble?
OHANO. Oh, Nijo, why do you kiss me like a thing of stone?
NIJO. [_As he looks up, pitifully._] Into that kiss I tried to put all
the love I've thought these many years.
OHANO. The love you've _thought_?
NIJO. [_Despondently._] Yes, I've only thought it--_thought_ it!
OHANO. But your heart----?
NIJO. [_Rising._] My heart feels no more! Only my head thinks.
ZAMA. You love no more?
NIJO. Only with my head, it seems. I see things, know things, understand
things; but I no longer feel anything. And my thirst for glory has done
it all--killed my love of life and turned my very kiss to stone. Oh,
glory, why do men give the essence of their lives to you--you who last
no longer than the glow of gold above the place of sunset!
OHANO. [_Superbly._] Because glory gives you the world--everything!
NIJO. It takes everything away--strips you--and leaves you nothing to
believe. Oh, I could have become a common soldier here, marching
shoulder to shoulder with the island men going out to war--but no--I
must be a great warrior, a hero in position. Had I known then what I
know now, how gladly would I have gone as one of the thousands who are
known as--just soldiers. They are the ones who know the throb of life
and love!
OHANO. You bring back such a message to me? You who have climbed and
climbed to heights till I have believed you to be as constant in your
quest as the light that shines upon the gazing globe?
NIJO. I--a light?
OHANO. Why not? I've always likened your feet unto the disks of two
luminaries, lighting the way for all the world to follow. [_Looks at
gazing globe, which is now a ball of gold against the black sea and
sky._] And now you tell me I was wrong. Perhaps the light upon the
gazing globe itself is the only one to follow.
NIJO. I--a light? Why, Ohano, if I'm anything, I'm a gazing globe!
OHANO. What do you mean--you a gazing globe?
NIJO. That without I'm all fair, all wonderful--but within I'm empty as
a gazing globe.
OHANO. [_Scornfully._] But a gazing globe shows men the way to their
heart's desire.
NIJO. It reflects to men what they see into it. So does glory.
OHANO. I can't believe that--now.
NIJO. Behold what it has done to me! Already as a child I gazed at that
globe, longing to grasp the glory of which it was a symbol. It filled me
with a red madness, surged with an unbearable music, giving me a riotous
pain! Oh, it made me drunk for the wine of glory!
OHANO. I know! I know! Now you talk as the man I thought you were.
NIJO. I'm not a man. I'm dead.
OHANO. But you have known the glory of life. Shall I never know the way
to it? [_Appealingly, to the globe._] The way--the way is what I seek!
ZAMA. Look not so upon the evil ball, child. It do be enchanted for one
thousand years! [OHANO _moves nearer the globe_.] Go not so near, child!
Evil will fall--and you will be enslaved!
OHANO. What care I, if it shows me the way? [_Hands outstretched to the
globe._
ZAMA. [_Appealingly to_ NIJO.] Sir, I pray you do be stopping her. She
do be always gazing at that golden ball; and slowly it do be drawing her
within its enchanted grasp. And it do be an enchanted ball!
NIJO. Perhaps there's more to its enchantment than I thought. It claimed
me for a victim--and now it's freezing her life's warmth to the
falseness of Orient pearl.
OHANO. [_Murmuring to the globe._] The way--the way! I must have the
way!
NIJO. [_Swiftly drawing his sword._] I will not show you--but I'll save
you! [_Starts toward the gazing globe._
ZAMA. [_Barring his path._] Nijo, sir, what do you be doing?
NIJO. [_With a flourish of his sword._] I kill the thing that freezes
another heart!
ZAMA. That do mean ruin! It be an enchanted ball!
NIJO. [_Brushing past_ ZAMA.] It will enchant no longer!!
OHANO. No! No, Nijo!
NIJO. [_Running up pedestal steps._] Yes!!
[_With a mighty blow he strikes the gazing globe with his sword.
Frightened_, OHANO _shrinks to one side, facing right, as a
thunder-like crash follows the blow, and pieces of the globe tumble
to the ground--all but one piece that remains upon the pedestal.
Then from a moon off stage right shines a straight golden path
across the sea to the bit of gazing globe on the pedestal._
OHANO. [_Triumphantly._] The moon--The way! At last the way! From the
gazing globe--the golden path to the moon of glory. Now I am free!
[_Rushes wildly down the moonlight path to the sea._
ZAMA. Stop her!
NIJO. No, it is better to let her go.
ZAMA. But the path do lead into the sea. It is death! Stop her!!
[_Starts forward._
NIJO. [_Restraining_ ZAMA.] No! In death her soul has found the only
way!
CURTAIN
THE BOOR
BY
ANTON TCHEKOV
_The Boor_ is reprinted by special permission of Barrett H. Clark and of
Samuel French, publisher, New York City. All rights reserved. For
permission to perform, address Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street,
New York City.
ANTON TCHEKOV
Anton Tchekov, considered the foremost of contemporary Russian
dramatists, was born in 1860 at Taganrog, Russia. In 1880 he was
graduated from the Medical School of the University of Moscow. Ill
health soon compelled him to abandon his practice of medicine, and in
1887 he sought the south. In 1904, the year of the successful appearance
of his _Cherry Orchard_, he died in a village of the Black Forest in
Germany.
As a dramatist, Tchekov has with deliberate intent cast off much of the
conventionalities of dramatic technic. In his longer plays especially,
like _The Sea Gull_, _Uncle Vanya_, and _Cherry Orchard_, he somewhat
avoids obvious struggles, time-worn commonplaces, well-prepared
climaxes, and seeks rather to spread out a panoramic canvas for our
contemplation. His chief aim is to show us humanity as he sees it. It is
his interest in humanity that gives him so high rank as a dramatist.
His one-act plays, a form of drama unusually apt for certain intimate
aspects of Russian peasant life, are more regular in their technic than
his longer plays. Among the five or six shorter plays that Tchekov
wrote, _The Boor_ and _A Marriage Proposal_ are his best. In these plays
he shows the lighter side of Russian country life, infusing some of the
spirit of the great Gogol into his broad and somewhat farcical character
portrayals. With rare good grace, in these plays he appears to be asking
us to throw aside our restraint and laugh with him at the stupidity and
naïveté, as well as good-heartedness, of the Russian people he knew so
well.
_The Boor_ is a remarkably well-constructed one-act play, and is
probably the finest one-act play of the Russian school of drama.
PERSONS IN THE PLAY
HELENA IVANOVNA POPOV, _a young widow, mistress of a country estate_
GRIGORI STEPANOVITCH SMIRNOV, _proprietor of a country estate_
LUKA, _servant of_ MRS. POPOV
_A gardener._ _A coachman._ _Several workmen._
THE BOOR
TIME: _The present._
SCENE: _A well-furnished reception-room in_ MRS. POPOV'S _home_.
MRS. POPOV _is discovered in deep mourning, sitting upon a sofa,
gazing steadfastly at a photograph_. LUKA _is also present_.
LUKA. It isn't right, ma'am. You're wearing yourself out! The maid and
the cook have gone looking for berries; everything that breathes is
enjoying life; even the cat knows how to be happy--slips about the
courtyard and catches birds--but you hide yourself here in the house as
though you were in a cloister. Yes, truly, by actual reckoning you
haven't left this house for a whole year.