[_At the conclusion now of the English Interlude, out
of the shadow a roseate glow suffuses the cell of
Caliban, from which the green-clad Spirits of Ariel
come running forth, bringing in their midst Miranda.
Leading her in daisy chains, they mount with her the
steps toward Prospero, singing in glad chorus_:]
THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL
“_Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!_
“_The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!_
“_The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Spring! the sweet Spring!_”
PROSPERO
[_Greeting her._]
Welcome, most dear!
MIRANDA
Once more you bring me home,
And the gray world wears green!
THE VOICE OF CALIBAN
[_Calling, beneath._]
Ho, Spring-i’-the-air!
MIRANDA
Hark!
[_From his cell, bare-headed, with gray cloak unbound
and flapping behind, Caliban bursts forth and
hastens toward them._]
CALIBAN
Spring-i’-the-air! Ah, leave me not alone!
Take me forth with thee, too! Not Death can hold me
When thou goest forth from him.
MIRANDA
It was thyself
That led’st me unto him.
CALIBAN
With thee—with thee
Would I lie even with Death. But when thou leavest,
Thy life-song prickleth his sod, and maketh my sap
To leap, and lick the sun again.
[_Kneeling before her._]
O, whither
Thou goest, let Caliban go, and wear thy cloth
Whatso its colors be!
PROSPERO
[_Darkly._]
Keep from her, slave!
Touch not her hem. Her Muses garbed thee once
Gay in her colors. Thou soiled’st them with shame.
Next time thou worest drab, and lured’st thy Mistress
Deathward in gray. Now—now thou darest crave
Once more to wear her cloth?
CALIBAN
Yea, do I! See:
This cloak—so I forswear it!
[_He puts off the gray cloak, tears it, and tramples upon
it; then turns to Miranda._]
Give me now
Thy green to wear!
PROSPERO
Insolence infinite!
Ariel, my staff!
MIRANDA
Stay!—What to do?
PROSPERO
[_About to raise the staff._]
To teach
This unwhipt hound—to howl.
CALIBAN
[_Starting back._]
Great Master!
MIRANDA
Grace,
Dear Father! Patience needs no quick compulsion.
Thine art is wondrous patient, and this poor
Slow climber needs thine art.
PROSPERO
Why, once again
Thou art my wiser self.
[_To Caliban._]
Go, lick her hand,
And feed from it.
CALIBAN
[_Laying his cheek on Miranda’s hand weeps,
with great sobs._]
Spring—Spring-i’-the-air, thy dew
Dabbleth my face. O wonder, what art thou
That fillest so mine eyes with rain-shine?
MIRANDA
April,
Not I, can conjure spring i’ the air, and April
Plies rarest art in England.—Ariel,
Fetch us, from out my father’s dreamery,
Nature’s spring-charm and echo of English song!
[_To the Spirits of Ariel._]
Our greenwood cloth! Come, busk him, merry men all:
Aye, both of us!
CALIBAN
[_Rapturously._]
This time I will not fail thee.
MIRANDA
[_To Prospero, indicating Caliban._]
Have faith in this fellow-creature, and let these spirits
Clothe him anew.
PROSPERO
As you like it, dear, be it so!
[_The Spirits clothe Caliban and Miranda in green, while from
within the Cloudy Curtains an unseen chorus sings_:]
THE CHORUS
“Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note
Unto the sweet bird’s throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.”
ARIEL
Spirits within, ho!
[_The Spirits run through the curtains, at centre,
and disappear within._]
Prosper’s hood
Broods now a dream of Arden wood,
Where young Orlando, daring fight
For succor of old Adam’s plight,
Defies the greenwood company—
But meets there with no enemy.
CALIBAN
[_By the throne with Miranda and Prospero, murmurs aloud_:]
No enemy!
[_As Ariel raises his staff, the Cloudy Curtains part,
disclosing_
THE EIGHTH INNER SCENE
A place of dappled shine and shadow in the forest. No
boughs or trees are visible, but only a luminous glade
of color, where falling sunlight filters a swaying
glow and gloom from high, wind-stirred branches above.
On the edges of the scene, the semi-obscurity half
conceals forms of the forest company [Jacques, the
Duke, etc.] who, seated about their noon-time meal,
sing their chorus:
THE CHORUS
Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live i’ the sun,
Seeking the food he eats
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
[Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn.]
ORLANDO
[Fiercely.]
Forbear, and eat no more!
JACQUES
Why, I have eat none yet.
ORLANDO
Nor shalt not, till necessity be served.
THE DUKE
What would you have? Your gentleness shall force
More than your force move us to gentleness.
ORLANDO
I almost die for food; and let me have it.
THE DUKE
Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.
ORLANDO
Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you:
I thought that all things had been savage here;
And therefore put I on the countenance
Of stern commandment. But whate’er you are
That in this desert inaccessible
Under the shade of melancholy boughs
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time;
If ever you have looked on better days,
If ever been where bells have knoll’d to church,
If ever sat at any good man’s feast,
If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear
And known what ’tis to pity and be pitied,
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be:
In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.
THE DUKE
True is it that we have seen better days,
And have with holy bell been knoll’d to church,
And sat at good men’s feasts, and wiped our eyes
Of drops that sacred pity hath engender’d:
And therefore sit you down in gentleness
And take upon command what help we have
That to your wanting may be minister’d.
ORLANDO
Then but forbear your food a little while,
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn
And give it food. There is an old poor man,
Who after me hath many a weary step
Limp’d in pure love: till he be first suffic’d
I will not touch a bit.
THE DUKE
Go find him out,
And we will nothing waste till you return.
ORLANDO
I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort!
[Exit Orlando.]
THE DUKE
Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy:
This wide and universal theatre
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.
JACQUES
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players!
[Re-enter Orlando with Adam, whom he helps to support.]
THE DUKE
Welcome! Set down your venerable burden
And let him feed.
ORLANDO
I thank you most for him.
ADAM
So had you need:
I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.
THE DUKE
Welcome: fall to! Give us some music; sing!
[Once more, as the chorus resumes the song “Under
the Greenwood Tree,”
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE
[_The music dies away within._
_With a strange, dawning reverence, Caliban turns to
Miranda and speaks_:]
CALIBAN
“I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.”—
Like him there you have furnish’d me food of pity
And a new world with _no enemy_!
MIRANDA
You have none,
Save the blind storms of your own nature.
CALIBAN
Those
Tempests are still now.
PROSPERO
[_Approaching._]
So mine art hath power
Once more to calm? Good: now the time is ripe
Methinks to rest awhile, for I am happily
Weary, and will take rest from thought.—Miranda,
Wilt come within? Unhood me for brief slumber,
And smooth my couch?
MIRANDA
[_Rising._]
Right gladly.
PROSPERO
[_To Ariel._]
And thou, too,
One moment: I’ve more for this tutelage.
[_Prospero passes off, right, by the throne exit, accompanied
by Ariel. Miranda, about to follow,
pauses at Caliban’s entreating voice._]
CALIBAN
Stay! What your pity hath made me cries to you—
Leave me not! Let me be yours!
MIRANDA
[_Wonderingly._]
How mean you—mine?
CALIBAN
Your Caliban, your creature, your bond slave
To fetch and bear for you.
MIRANDA
I want no bonds
’Twixt me and any friend. Nay, we are friends
And free to serve each other.
CALIBAN
Yet I yearn
For more: I know not what.
MIRANDA
What more could be
More happy?
CALIBAN
Here I crawled upon my belly
Brute-stuttering for you, where now I stand
And pray—with Prosper’s tongue. His art hath bred
Within my blood a kinship with your kindness
That cries: “Miranda, thou and I are one!”—
I know not how—I know not how.
MIRANDA
You love me.
’Tis simple, then: I love you, Caliban.
CALIBAN
[_In a splendor of amazement._]
Lovest me—thou? thou!—Wilt be mine?
MIRANDA
Nay, truly
You know not how. Love knows not _mine_ and _thine_,
But only _ours_; and all the world is ours
To serve Love in. I am not _thine_, good friend.
[_She goes within._]
CALIBAN
Stay yet!—She loveth me! Yet Love, she saith,
Love knows not _mine_ and _thine_.
A VOICE FROM BENEATH
[_Calls deeply._]
She shall be thine,
Caliban!
CALIBAN
[_Starting._]
Mine! Who saith that word?
THE VOICE
She shall
Be thine!
CALIBAN
How mine?—Say!
THE VOICE
Thou shalt fight for her.
CALIBAN
[_Pointing toward the Cloudy Curtains._]
Shall fight? Nay, there—the youth put by his sword,
For the other said: “Your gentleness shall force
More than your force move us to gentleness.”
THE VOICE
Yet thou shalt fight!
CALIBAN
[_Springing forward above his cell._]
What art thou?
[_From the mouth of the cell a flame-colored Figure
strides forth and replies_:]
THE FIGURE
War: thy father’s
Priest.—Caliban, remember Setebos!
CALIBAN
Ha, Setebos! Com’st thou once more with priest-craft
To lure me back to him?—Begone!
WAR
Yet not
Without _me_ shalt thou win Miranda.
CALIBAN
[_Fiercely._]
Go!
WAR
[_Returning within the cell, disappears as his voice
dies away._]
Remember War! Miranda shall be thine!
CALIBAN
[_Hoarsely._]
Miranda—mine!
ARIEL
[_Comes running from the throne entrance._]
Ho, pupil, now be merry!
Great Prosper sleeps, and from his slumber sends thee
A dream of fairy laughter.
CALIBAN
[_Darkly, amazed._]
Laughter!
ARIEL
Aye,
An English make-believe of antic elves
And merry wives, to douse the lustful fire
Of old John Falstaff, lured to Windsor Forest.—
Our Master deems thou hast learned art enough
To laugh at apings of it.
CALIBAN
[_Still amazed, but curious._]
Laugh?
ARIEL
Aye, list!
[_Caliban stands on one side, with arms folded and
listens._]
To Windsor’s magic oak now turn:
There—his fatty bulk in guise
Of the hornèd hunter Herne—
Big Sir John in ambush lies
Where the counterfeited fays
Troop along the forest ways:
How his lust will cease to burn
For the Merry Wives—now gaze
Yonder by the oak, and learn!
[_Ariel raises his staff. Parting, the Cloudy Curtains
disclose_
THE NINTH INNER SCENE
The gigantic trunk of an oak rises in moonlight, surrounded
by the glimmering purple of the obscure forest.
Trooping from the left, enter the disguised Fairies,
following their leader Sir Hugh Evans.]
EVANS
Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your parts:
be pold, I pray you; follow me into the pit; and when
I give the watch ’ords, do as I pid you: Come,
come; trib, trib.
[They conceal themselves.
A distant chiming sounds as Falstaff enters, disguised
as Herne, wearing a stag’s head with great
horns.]
FALSTAFF
The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute
draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me!
Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa;
love set on thy horns. O powerful love! That, in
some respects, makes a beast a man, in some other
a man a beast.
CALIBAN
[_Listening intently near the edge of the scene._]
A man a beast!
FALSTAFF
Think on ’t, Jove: Where gods have hot backs, what shall
poor men do? For me, I am here a Windsor stag; and
the fattest, I think, i’ the forest. Send me a cool
rut-time, Jove! Who comes here? My doe?
[Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.]
MRS. FORD
Sir John! Art thou there, my deer? My male deer?
FALSTAFF
My doe with the black scut! Let the sky rain potatoes,
let it thunder to the tune of green sleeves; I will
shelter me here.
MRS. FORD
Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart.
FALSTAFF
Divide me like a bribe buck, each a haunch: Am I a
woodman, ha? Speak I like Herne the hunter?
As I am a true spirit, welcome!
[Noise within.]
MRS. PAGE
Alas, what noise?
MRS. FORD
Heaven forgive our sins!
FALSTAFF
What should this be?
MRS. PAGE AND MRS. FORD
Away! Away!
[They run off.]
FALSTAFF
I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil
that’s in me should set hell on fire; he would never
else cross me thus.
[Enter Sir Hugh Evans, disguised as before; Pistol,
as Hobgoblin; Mistress Quickly, Anne Page, and
others as Fairies, with tapers.]
MRS. QUICKLY
Fairies, black, gray, green, and white,
You moonshine revellers, and shades of night,
You orphan heirs of fixed destiny,
Attend your office and your quality.
Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes.
PISTOL
Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys!
FALSTAFF
They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die:
I’ll wink and couch: no man their works must eye.
[He lies upon his face.]
EVANS
Where’s Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid
That, ere she sleeps, has thrice her prayers said,
Raise up the organs of her fantasy;
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy!
But those as sleep and think not on their sins
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins!
CALIBAN
[_Growing excitedly absorbed._]
Ha, _pinch_ them, saith!
MRS. QUICKLY
Away; disperse: but till ’tis one o’clock,
Our dance of custom round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.
EVANS
Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set;
And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be
To guide our measure round about the tree.
But, stay; I smell a man of middle-earth.
FALSTAFF
Heaven defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he
transform me to a piece of cheese!
PISTOL
Vile worm, thou wast o’erlook’d even in thy birth.
MRS. QUICKLY
With trial-fire touch me his finger-end:
If he be chaste, the flame will back descend
And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.
PISTOL
A trial, come.
EVANS
Come, will this wood take fire?
[They burn him with their tapers.]
FALSTAFF
Oh! Oh! Oh!
CALIBAN
[_Crying out._]
Ah, ah! They plague him, too!
MRS. QUICKLY
Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!
About him, Fairies; sing a scornful rhyme;
And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time.
ALL
[As they dance about him, pinch, burn him, and sing:]
Fie on sinful fantasy!
Fie on lust and luxury!
Lust is but a bloody fire
Kindled with unchaste desire,
Fed in heart, whose flames aspire
As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher.
Pinch him, Fairies, mutually;
Pinch him for his villany;
Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,
Till candles and starlight and moonshine be out!
FALSTAFF
[Rising and pulling off his buck’s head, cries out:]
Oh! Oh! Oh!
[As he is about to flee, tormented by the dancing figures,
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE
CALIBAN
[_Bursting into bitter laughter._]
Ah-ha, ha!
“Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!”
Mocketh me, mocketh me, ah!—A man with horns
And heart of monster!
[_Striding fiercely toward Ariel._]
He mocketh me, thy lord!
ARIEL
[_Laughing silverly._]
Why, ’tis but fairy sport for laughter.
CALIBAN
[_With choking passion._]
Laughter!
Ah-ha! Me, too—me, too, thy spirits plagued
And pinched, to piping jigs.
[_Seizing Ariel._]
I tell thee, smiling
Spirit, thy laughter scorcheth me with nettles,
[_Pointing toward the curtains._]
And that hot bulk of lust hath made my loins
To rage with boiling blood.
ARIEL
[_Struggling._]
Unclutch thy hand!
CALIBAN
Not till I bleed that oil of laughter from thee
Which lappeth me in flame.
THE VOICE OF WAR
[_Calls deeply from below._]
Hail, Caliban!
CALIBAN
[_Pausing, releases Ariel, and listens._]
Callest me, War?
THE VOICE
Miranda shall be thine!
CALIBAN
Mine!—Yea, now I am mocked to know myself
What rutting stag I am! And her, the doe
I mate, my horns shall battle for, and be
Mine own—mine, mine! Miranda!
MIRANDA
[_Coming from within, right, raises her hand in gentle
warning._]
Hush thy tone;
My father slumbers yet.
[_Showing Prospero’s hood, which she carries._]
He hath put by
This hood, wherein he sends thee here another
Visioning.
CALIBAN
[_Stares at her, breathing hard._]
So: what now?
ARIEL
[_To Miranda._]
He rages, Mistress.
Beware! He babbleth of War.
MIRANDA
Why, then he conjures
The dream my father sends: another picture,
Painted in gules on England’s ancient shield:
King Harry, by the high walls of Harfleur.
[_To Caliban._]
So you may learn, good friend, how noblest natures
Are moved to tiger passions—by a painting
Called Honor, dearer than their brothers’ lives.
CALIBAN
Why will he show me this?
MIRANDA
Perchance that you,
Born of a tiger’s loins, seeing that picture,
May recognize an image of yourself
And so recoil to reason and to love.
CALIBAN
So, mocketh me once more?
MIRANDA
Nay, never that.
But let us look thereon, and learn together.
CALIBAN
[_Starts toward her, but curbs himself, trembling._]
Together!
MIRANDA
[_To Ariel._]
Hold his magic hood and conjure.
ARIEL
[_Taking the hood of Prospero._]
Image of Strife, may never more
Your like draw near!
Pageant of long-forgotten War,
Appear!
Harry of England, lo, is here!
[_As Ariel lifts Prospero’s hood on the staff, the
Cloudy Curtains party and discover_
THE TENTH INNER SCENE
Before high mediæval walls, partly shattered, to pealing
of trumpets, appear in their armor, King Henry the
Fifth, and his nobles, surrounded by soldiers, with
cross-bows and scaling-ladders.
Standing above on a parapet, the King is exhorting them
with vehement ardor.
KING HENRY
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with the English dead!
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favor’d rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect....
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noble English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of War-proof!...
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not....
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot.
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry, “God for Harry, England, and Saint George!”
THE SOLDIERS
[With a great shout.]
Ho, God for Harry, England, and Saint George!
[As they leap forward, to the blare of trumpets, and
begin to scale the ladders,
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE
[_Instantly Caliban, seizing from the staff the hood of
Prospero, shakes it aloft and shouts_:]
[Illustration: PRELIMINARY SKETCH FOR TENTH INNER SCENE: JONES]
CALIBAN
Ho, God for Caliban and Setebos!
War, War for Prosper’s throne! Miranda’s shrine!
[_A booming detonation resounds, and a roar of voices
from below._]
THE VOICES
Caliban, Caliban, hail!
[_From the throne-entrance Prospero—unhooded—hastens
in, surrounded by the Spirits of Ariel, bearing
long shining lances. Mounting swiftly the throne
and joined by Ariel and Miranda, Prospero calls
to Caliban, who—wearing his hood and lifting his
staff—strides toward him._]
PROSPERO
[_His unhooded features revealing their likeness to
Shakespeare’s._]
Who wakes my sleep
With these usurping thunders?
CALIBAN
War and I!
Now Setebos returns, and thou art fallen!
[_A second detonation booms._
_Red glare bursts from Caliban’s cell, and War rushes
forth with the Powers of Setebos, clad in his flaring
habiliments, followed by the groups of Lust and Death._
_Bearing lighted torches, amid the roaring of Setebos
choruses, flashing fireworks and bombs, they swarm
upon the half-obscure stage._
_Led by War, the flame-colored hordes clash with the
Spirits of Ariel, overcome them, and take captive
Miranda, Prospero, and Ariel._
_As War holds Miranda in his power, Prospero confronts
Caliban who—wearing his hood and raising his
staff—exults before him_:]
Hail, Prospero! Who now is master-artist!
Who wieldeth now the world?
PROSPERO
Hail, Caliban!
Slumb’ring, from me thou robb’st my hood and staff
Which wield my power; yet not mine art they wield
Without my will: my will thou canst not rob
Nor ravish.
CALIBAN
[_With eyes gleaming._]
But Miranda!
PROSPERO
Nay, nor her:
For she is charmed against thy body’s rape
By chastity of soul. Thy will and War
May break, but cannot build the world: And One,
Who bore us all within her womb, still lives
To stanch our wounds with her immortal healing.
CALIBAN
Where?
PROSPERO
[_Pointing._]
Yonder, on the Yellow Sands! She rises now
And calls across the tides of fleeting change
Her deathless artists of the plastic mind—
My art that builds the beauty of the world.
EPILOGUE
_Where Prospero points, the light passes from the pageant of War to the
centre of the Yellow Sands._
_There, in mellow splendor, a serene female Figure, rising majestic
from the altar, calls to the thronging shadows._
THE SPIRIT OF TIME
Children of men, my passionate children, hark!
To-day and Yesterday I am To-morrow:
Out of my primal dark
You dawn—my joy, my sorrow.
Lovers of life, you rapturous lovers, lo
The lives you clutch are by my lightnings riven:
Yea, on my flux and flow,
Like sea-birds tempest-driven.
Yet from my founts of life, fecund, divine,
Still dauntless lovers dare my dark tribunal,
Building a common shrine
To hold their love communal.
So out of War up looms unconquered Art:
Blind forces rage, but masters rise to mould them.
Soldiers and kings depart;
Time’s artists—still behold them!
_As the Spirit of Time ceases to speak, the light passes to the
entrances of the Greek ground-circle, where now—from either
side—enters a Pageant of the great Theatres of the world—from the
ancient Theatre of Dionysus to the Comedie Francaise—in symbolic
groups, with their distinctive banners and insignia. The names of these
are blazoned on their group standards, and the groups themselves [like
those that follow] are announced from either end of the high balcony
above the inner stage by two spirit Trumpeters, the one beneath a
glowing disk of the sun, the other beneath a sickle moon._
_While these, below, have ranged themselves on the ground-circle and
steps above—the groups of War, Lust, and Death have dwindled away in
the background darkness—leaving only Prospero, Miranda, and Ariel,
grouped in light at the centre._
_Then on either wing of the stage, at right and left, appears luminous
a colossal mask—the one of Tragedy, the other of Comedy. Through the
mouths of these, now come forth, in national pageant groups,[20] the
creators of the art of the theatre from antiquity to the verge of
the living present: the world-famed actors, dramatists, producers,
musicians, directors, and inventors of its art._
_First come the great Actors, in the guise of their greatest
rôles—from Thespis and Roscius of old to Irving, Salvini, Coquelin,
Booth, of modern times, the comic actors tumbling forth from the Mask
of Comedy, the tragic from the Tragic Mask._
_They are followed by national groups of the great Dramatists from
Æschylus to Ibsen, who pass in review before Prospero._
_Among these, with the Elizabethan Dramatists, grouped with Marlowe,
Green, Jonson, Beaumont, and Fletcher, and others, appears the modest
figure of Shakespeare, at first unemphasized._
_For one moment, however, as Shakespeare himself approaches
Prospero, he pauses, Prospero rises, and the two figures—strangely
counterparts to their beholders—look in each other’s eyes: a moment
only. For Prospero, slipping off his cloak, lays it on the shoulders
of Shakespeare, who sits in Prospero’s place, while Prospero moves
silently off with the group of Dramatists._
_Finally, when these pageants of Time have passed, and the stately
Spirit of Time vanished in dark on the Yellow Sands, the only light
remains on the figure of Shakespeare—and the two with him: Ariel
tiptoe behind him, peering over his shoulder; Miranda beside him,
leaning forward, with lips parted to speak._
_Then to these, out of the dimness, comes forth Caliban. Groping,
dazed, he reaches his arms toward the dark circle, where the stately
Spirit has vanished. In a voice hoarse with feeling, he speaks aloud._
CALIBAN
Lady of the Yellow Sands! O Life! O Time!
Thy tempest blindeth me: Thy beauty baffleth.—
A little have I crawled, a little only
Out of mine ancient cave. All that I build
I botch; all that I do destroyeth my dream.
Yet—yet I yearn to build, to be thine Artist
And stablish this thine Earth among the stars—
Beautiful!
[_Turning to the light, where the Three are grouped._]
—O bright Beings, help me still!
More visions—visions, Master!
[_With gesture of longing, he crouches at Shakespeare’s
feet, gazing up in his face, which looks on him
with tenderness. With Caliban, Miranda too appeals
to the Cloaked Figure._]
MIRANDA
[_Wistfully._]
—Master?
[_To her raised eyes, he returns a pensive smile._]
SHAKESPEARE
[_As Prospero_] “Child,
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.”
[_Then, while the light focusses and fades in darkness on
the pensive form of Shakespeare, the choirs of
Ariel’s Spirits repeat, unseen, in song_:]
THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL
“_We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep._”
FINIS
APPENDIX
CONTENTS OF APPENDIX
1. FOREWORD
2. PERSONS AND PRESENCES (OF THE TEN INNER SCENES)
3. INTERLUDES I, II, III
4. EPILOGUE
5. ANNOUNCEMENTS
FOREWORD
The actors of a Community Masque being members of the community, it
becomes the function of the Masque-director to reverse the traditional
order of theatrical procedure and—so far as possible—to take the
public, as participants, into the confidence of “behind the scenes”
beforehand.
If this were a play only [in the Broadway sense], I should gather
together my staff and company for a preliminary reading, assign parts,
devise plans of rehearsal, and get personally in touch with the
comparatively few persons involved in its production. Being, however, a
new kind of drama, involving some thousands of persons as actors, and
some scores of leaders as a projected staff, it becomes practically
necessary to print and publish, before production, not only the
foregoing spoken and sung Masque-Proper, but the sketched-in outlines
of the nonspeaking Interludes which follow.
In the nature of the case, _these outlines are preliminary and_
[_though necessarily printed here_] _are still plastic and susceptible
to various modifications_. Thus publication at the moment in New York is
essentially for the purpose of rendering each of the hundreds of
participants more intimately familiar with his or her special
relationship [as group participant or group principal] to the work as a
whole.
To this is also added the need for making its text and stage-directions
available to communities outside of New York, which have already
expressed their desire to organize for its production after next May.
An interesting American phase of the New York production is the problem
of carrying its community meaning to the still polyglot population, so
that steps have been taken for the immediate translation of the Masque
into Italian, German, and Yiddish.
By referring to the chart INNER STRUCTURE, the reader will
see that it offers a technical solution for the participation of
about a dozen national and civic groups within the time limits of the
festival, without disintegrating the organic unity of the plot and
action of the drama, with which the actions of the various groups are
fused and synthesized. This form of technique [the result of some years
of thought and experiment in this field] contributes a basis for the
future development of the outdoor community art of the theatre, on a
scale adapted to modern cities.
The Masque thus becomes, so to speak, a Masque of Masques. For example,
the seven-minute Don Giovanni pantomime scene-plot of the Spanish and
Italian Action in Interlude II [of which Mr. Ernest Peixotto is the
community group-chairman] is being enlarged, under Mr. Peixotto’s
direction, into the spring festival of the MacDowell Club, performed
locally at its clubhouse, lasting an hour and a half, for the Prologue
of which the author has written the dialogue.
So each of the other Interlude Actions, necessarily brief in
time-limit, is itself a potential Masque or festival, capable of being
developed locally into larger proportions. And this is being done in
New York in the case of several other of the Interlude Actions.
At the present date, among those who are actively interested in the
production side of the Interludes, are the Misses Lewisohn, and
their associates of the Neighborhood Playhouse, for interpreting the
Egyptian; Mr. Franklin Sargent of the American Academy of Dramatic
Arts, in association with members of the Greek Colony, for the Greek;
Mr. Arturo Giovannitti [who, as poet, is also translating the Masque
into Italian] and members of the Italian colony, for the Roman; Mr.
Otto J. Merkel, and members of the German University League, for the
German; Mr. Charles A. Donner and members of the Alliance Francaise,
for the French; Mr. Rene Wildenstein, Mr. Peixotto, and members of
the Spanish-speaking community, for the Spanish-Italian; the New York
Branch of the English Folk-Dance Society, under direction of Mr. Cecil
Sharp, for the Interlude of Elizabethan England; the American Academy
and National Institute of Arts and Letters [Chairman, Mr. William Dean
Howells], for the Epilogue.
As indicated in the Inner Structure Chart, an Action of ancient
India[21] was originally planned for the beginning of Interlude I. This
was chiefly devised, in conference with the author and director, by the
director of the community Interludes, Mr. Garnet Holme, who has brought
to this New York production his very valuable experience in directing
outdoor festivals in California and England. Owing, however, to brevity
of time and the pressure of organization details, this Action has been
omitted from the production in May.
[Illustration: COMMUNITY MASQUE
“CALIBAN”
INNER STRUCTURE.
2 HRS., 40 MINUTES.
_SHADED_: MASQUE PROPER:
SPEAKING ACTORS (ABOUT 30)
MUTE FIGURANTS (ABOUT 300)
INVISIBLE CHOIRS
ACTION ON STAGES A & B OF GROUND PLAN
_WHITE_: INTERLUDES & EPILOGUE:
NON-SPEAKING PARTICIPANTS (ABOUT 2,000)
VISIBLE CHORUSES
COMMUNITY DANCES
PANTOMIME ACTING
MASS MOVEMENTS
ACTION ON STAGE C OF GROUND PLAN]
Of the other members of the producing staff of the Interludes, Mrs.
Robert Anderson contributes to her direction of the community dances
her admirable knowledge of the subject, and Mrs. John W. Alexander to
the Interlude costuming [in association with Mr. Urban and Mr. Jones]
the excellent insight and artistry which contributed so much [with
the work of her husband, the late President of the Academy] to the
impressiveness of the “Joan of Arc” stadium performance at Harvard, and
other productions of Maude Adams and Charles Frohman.
In the following descriptions of the Interlude Actions, the numbers
of community actors are based on an arbitrary computation [at this
date] of a total of 1,500, at least double which number will require
to be enlisted to make sure of sufficient persons for the five New
York performances. _The numbers here printed, however, are purely
tentative and are subject to modification._ Of the terms used for
community actors, the term _Participants_ means those who take part in
the Interludes only; _Figurants_ those who also take part in groups of
the Masque Proper; _Specials_ those who take part only in the special
group, or groups, designated.
In the projected tour of the Masque outside of New York, a modified
performance of the Masque, on a smaller scale, when acted without
the Interludes, will require, in local community actors, only the
_Figurants_.
It will be evident, I think, to the reader, that the organization of
a community for a Masque performance on so large a scale is a special
technique, only recently in process of development. As a contribution
to this technique, the appended Community Organization Chart has
been drawn up by my sister, Hazel MacKaye, who has brought to it her
experience, of several years, in organizing and directing community
pageants and masques, some of them of her own authorship.
Space and time do not permit of further comment in this Foreword on
many important social relationships and reactions involved in this new
community art. The accompanying photograph, however, of a Community
Masque audience—150,000 citizens of Saint Louis gathered in May,
1914, to witness the Pageant and Masque of Saint Louis, in which over
7,000 of their fellow-citizens took part—may be suggestive to the
imagination of the reader. On the background may be seen, at centre,
the thousand-foot stage, and, at left and right, the tents of the
community actors, men and women.
Space and time also do not permit of any adequate emphasis upon the
enormous importance, and contribution to this growing art-form,
of music in its community aspects. In this respect, the splendid
pioneering work of Mr. Harry H. Barnhart in creating community choruses
in Rochester and New York City is fundamentally significant. In the
creative field of composition, rich in its manifold promise, Mr. Arthur
Farwell, director of the New York Music School Settlement, and composer
of the music of this Masque, has devoted probably more attention than
any other American composer to this community type of musical art.
[Illustration: A COMMUNITY MASQUE AUDIENCE
Copyright, 1914. By E. O. Thalinger, St. Louis
150,000 SPECTATORS OF _THE PAGEANT AND MASQUE OF SAINT LOUIS_,
IN WHICH 7,500 CITIZENS TOOK PART, MAY, 1914
[IN BACKGROUND, CENTRE, THE STAGE; RIGHT AND LEFT, TENTS OF ACTORS]]
To the Shakespeare Celebration of New York, since its origin last year
in activities of the Drama League, Miss Mary Porter Beegle, of Barnard
College, has contributed her unflagging zest and enthusiasm, Mr. Howard
Kyle his disinterested, manifold services, Miss Kate Oglebay her
remarkable thoroughness in organizing the Supplementary Celebrations.
In his original and deeply based work of experiment, through channels
of the People’s Institute and the School for Community Centre
Workers, Mr. John Collier has shown fundamental leadership in a field
all-important to the community purposes of this Masque: the modern
economics and organization of coöperative art.
As this Foreword goes to press, Prof. Richard Ordynski has joined Mr.
Urban in the work of the Masque’s New York production.
To Mr. Everard Thompson, producers and committees alike are indebted
for his unfailing, friendly resourcefulness.
As references to the reader curious to study the art of the theatre in
the eras touched upon in these Interludes, a lengthy Bibliography might
well be submitted. For this Foreword, it may suffice to refer to three
very useful works, in several volumes, viz: “The Drama,” Editor Alfred
Bates, Historical Publishing Company [a dozen volumes]; “The Art of
the Theatre,” Karl Manzius, Scribners, [5 volumes]; “The Theatre, Its
Development in France and England, and a History of Its Greek and Latin
Origins,” Charles Hastings, London, Duckworth, 1902 [and Lippincott].
The beneficial possibilities of community festival art and organization
are, of course, commensurate with the time and opportunity afforded
for their development. As mentioned in the Preface, the time for the
New York production has, by unavoidable circumstance, become far too
brief to accomplish, between the present date and the 23rd of May the
deep social reactions potential in this festival. A year, instead, for
the work of preparation would be none too much. It is hoped, however,
that the production of this Masque may at least help to establish the
festival movement in New York on a sound and perennial community basis.
PERCY MACKAYE.
_New York, March 26, 1916._
[Illustration: THE MASQUE CELEBRATION
ORGANIZATION-PLAN]
PERSONS AND PRESENCES
_OF THE TEN INNER SCENES_
[Enacted by the Spirits of Ariel.]
FIRST INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
Antony
Cleopatra
Charmian
Eros
PANTOMIME GROUPS
Roman Soldiers
Egyptian Populace
Flutists
Harpists
Wine Bearers
SECOND INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
Cressida
Her Attendant
Pandarus
Boy
Troilus
MUTE PERSONS
Hecuba
Helen
Æneas
Antenor
Hector
Paris
Helenus
PANTOMIME GROUPS
Trojan Warriors
Trojan Populace
THIRD INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
Brutus
Lucius, a boy
Ghost of Cæsar
MUTE PRESENCES
Shapes in the Darkness
FOURTH INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
Saint Agnes [An Image]
A Shepherd [Impersonated by Prospero]
A Shepherd Boy [Impersonated by Ariel]
Other Shepherds
FIFTH INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
Hamlet
Horatio
Marcellus
MUTE PERSONS
The Ghost of Hamlet’s Father
SIXTH INNER SCENE
[Derivative from Shakespeare]
PANTOMIME PERSONS AND GROUPS
King Henry the Eighth, of England
King Francis the First, of France
Their Soldiers and Followers
SEVENTH INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
Benvolio
Mercutio
Romeo
Juliet
Lorenzo
Florizel
Perdita
MUTE PERSONS
Jessica
EIGHTH INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
Orlando
Jacques
Duke
Adam
PANTOMIME GROUPS
Foresters of Arden
NINTH INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
Sir Hugh Evans [as Fairy]
Sir John Falstaff
Mistress Ford
Mistress Page
Mistress Quickly [as Fairy]
Pistol [as Hobgoblin]
PANTOMIME GROUPS
Fairies [Counterfeited by Followers of Sir Hugh]
TENTH INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS AND GROUPS
King Henry the Fifth
His Soldiers and Followers
INTERLUDE I
_FIRST ACTION_: _EGYPTIAN_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [148]
_Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS [75]
FIGURANTS [73]
Osiris, the god of summer and fecundity.
Worshippers of Osiris [Men and Women].
7 Groups, each group comprising
15 Dancers [Parts & Figs.]
5 Drum-players, Followers [Parts and Figs.]
1 Priest Leader [Participant]
Total Dancers 105
” Drum-players 35
---
140
” Leaders 7
---
147
Osiris 1
---
148
THEME
Egyptian Worshippers of the god Osiris, B. C. 1000, celebrate his
resurrection from death by a dramatic ritual, symbolizing how the seven
portions of his rended body unite again at his rebirth.
ACTION
At the deep pealing of gongs, from each of the three entrances to the
ground-circle, two diverging Processions issue forth, a seventh issuing
from the cell of Caliban. All are dressed in robes and concealing masks
of black.
Slowly, to the rhythmic beat of Egyptian drums [borne by the last five
in each procession], by seven separate routes, they move out upon the
Yellow Sands, and so converge toward the altar at the centre.
Within about a rod of the altar they pause, while their seven
Priest-Leaders move forward—each bearing a fire urn—to the altar, on
which an immense circular disk lies. On the disk, a prone Shape lies
concealed beneath a black cloth.
Bowing before the altar, the seven Priests then rise and, mounting the
steps, extend their arms to touch the rim of the disk. Thus—their
black masks turned skyward—they raise their shrill voices in a
mournful Egyptian chant.
Moving then backward to the ground, they drop incense within their
seven urns, from which rise seven pillars of smoke, lighted by the glow
of fire beneath.
In this increasing glow, the black Shape on the disk stirs, slowly
rises beneath its dark cloth, and extends upward its hidden arms.
During this, the drums beat from a low muffled cadence increasingly to
a loud rolling rhythm, to which now—at a shrill choral cry from all
the worshippers—the black cloth on the central Shape sloughs to its
feet, revealing—in a burst of radiant splendor—the flame-bright form
of the god Osiris.
In tall shining mitre, he raises his ox-herd’s whip and shepherd’s
crook. With these, to the joyous cries of his Worshippers, he bestows
with archaic gesture a seven-fold sign of benediction.
Once more then mounting the altar steps, the Priests step forth from
their black robes and masks in their own garments of yellow gold. Thus,
touching again the rim of the disk, they begin to revolve it—at first
slowly.[22]
And now at its first motion, Osiris begins to dance.
In this dance he expresses the former beneficence of his life, the
sufferings of his death, the rending of his body into seven parts and
finally the joy of his resurrection.[23]
In rhythm to the primitive music, the Priests revolve the disk to the
dancing movement of the god.
In this revolving movement his Worshippers below join in a dance on
the ground (expressive of the blending of the seven parts of his
body), where one by one successively the seven Processions encircle
the altar and the dancing Osiris. As they do so, they slough off
their dark garments, weaving thus a whirling movement in which the
proportion of black ever diminishes while the golden yellow increases,
until finally—in a blaze only of gold-yellow radiance—the Priests
raise aloft on its pedestal the disk, still spinning, while the
flame-red god, still dancing, is borne away in procession by his joyous
Worshippers, shouting aloud their shrill cries of “Osiris!”
When all have disappeared through the south gate of the circle,
Prospero on his throne speaks to Ariel,[24] announcing the Second Action
of the Interlude—his art of the drama in Greece.
INTERLUDE I
_SECOND ACTION_: _GREEK_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [175]
_Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS [100]
_Individuals_ [2] _Actors_ [9]
Sophocles Antigone
The Choregus[25] Ismene
_Friends of Sophocles_ [20] Creon
Aristophanes Haemon
Socrates Eurydice
Anaxagoras Teiresias
Alcibiades A Watchman
Euripides A Messenger
Fifteen Others A Second Messenger
_Chorus_ [60] _Trainers and Stage_
Choreutai [In four bands, _Leaders_ [5]
fifteen in each band.] Chorodidaskalos [Chorus
Master]
_Musicians_ [4] Orchestrodidaskalos
Four Flute-players [Dancing Master]
Choryphaios [Stage
Chorus Leader]
Two Parastatai [His
Assistant Leaders]
FIGURANTS [75]
_Athenian Audience_ [75]
Pericles
Aspasia
Seventy-three Others.
THEME
Sophocles rehearses the Second Chorus of his drama “Antigone” in the
Theatre of Dionysus, at Athens, B. C. 440.
ACTION
At the sounding of Interlude trumpets, the light passes to the great
gates of the ground-circle, from which simultaneously two main groups
enter.
From the right enter Athenian Citizens, accompanying Pericles and
Aspasia. These move forward to the north portion of the Yellow Sands
[between the centre of stage B and the altar] and there form the
semicircle of an antique audience, which faces the altar and the modern
audience. Among these, two seats are placed for Aspasia and Pericles.
From the left gate, meanwhile, has entered the Choregus [producer of
the play], in conversation with Sophocles, followed closely by a group
of twenty friends, among whom are Socrates, Aristophanes, Anaxagoras,
Alcibiades, and Euripides. These move toward the centre. There
Sophocles summons the Chorodidaskalos [Chorus Master], and the
Orchestrodidaskalos [Dancing Master] to confer with him and the
Choregus. Returning part way toward the left gate, the Chorus Master
calls aloud “Antigone!”
Enter, then [left], the Actor of the part of Antigone, followed by a
group of Actors comprising the impersonators of Ismene, Creon, Haemon,
Eurydice, Teiresias, a Watchman, and two Messengers. With these, who
carry their classic masks in their hands, the Choregus confers in
pantomime, directs them to join Sophocles at the altar, and then calls
aloud: “Choreutai!”
Thereupon enter the Choreutai [Members of the Chorus], sixty in number,
in four bands, fifteen in each band. Preceded by the Choryphaios [Stage
Chorus Leader] and four Flute-players [one for each band], escorted
by two Parastatai [Assistant Leaders], the Chorus march in military
order first south [each band in three ranks of five men] till they are
opposite the altar, then east [each band in five files of three men],
till they halt near the altar.
Here, after Sophocles has greeted Pericles and Aspasia nearby in the
impromptu audience [which his group of friends have now joined], after
he has chatted with Socrates, and been chaffed by Aristophanes and
Alcibiades, he turns with the Choregus to conduct the rehearsal.
After giving directions to Antigone and Ismene, who rehearse in
pantomime a snatch of their first scene together, and after a few
instructions to Haemon, Euripides, and Teiresias, Sophocles now bids
the Choregus direct the last few passages between Creon and the
Messenger, just before the Second Chorus in the play.
They do so in pantomime; Creon, with final threatening gesture to the
Messenger, makes his exit, and the Messenger—thanking the gods for his
escape from Creon’s anger—also departs.
And now, by direction of Sophocles, the Chorus Master and the Master
of Dance make signal to the Chorus and the Flute-players; Sophocles
steps back near Pericles and his other friends: the Flutists begin
playing and, under leadership of the two masters of choral song and of
dance, the Chorus—with vigorous, rhythmic cadence of their athletic
bodies—perform an austere dance about the altar, raising to its
measure their choral song:
CHORUS
The words of this chorus are translated here by the author from the
Second Chorus of Sophocles’ play “Antigone.”
_Many are the wonders of time, but the mightiest wonder is man;
Man! for he maketh his path with the south wind, over the surges
Down where the storm-white billows
Loom to devour him: Yea,
And Earth, the immortal, the oldest of gods,
The untoilsome, he tameth with toiling horses
Dark where his turning ploughshare
Plougheth from age unto age._
_Birds, O the wild-hearted birds, and the breeds of the savage wood
Deep in his woven nets he hath snared, and the broods of the
bright sea
Leadeth he likewise captive—
Master of masters, Man!
And high on the hills he hath tracked to her wild
The shaggy-maned horse and yoked her in harness;
Tireless, too, hath his spirit
Tamed the wild mountain bull._
_Words, and the wind of great thought, and the mood that mouldeth
a state,
These hath he mastered, and knoweth to parry the white frost
arrow’s
Pitiless barb, and the pouring
Arrows of purple rain.
All, all hath he mastered, and all that may come
He meeteth with cunning and power; but only
Death hath he failed to master:
Death is the master of man._
As they conclude, a runner comes hastening from the right gate, calling
“Pericles!”
Pericles rises, receives in pantomime the message of the runner, and
indicates to Sophocles that he must return to the city.
He and Aspasia and their followers depart [right gate]. With a gesture,
then, to the Choregus, Sophocles dismisses the rehearsal; he and his
friends follow the others; the Chorus forms again in files and ranks,
moving off with the playing Flute-players to the right Interlude gate,
where all disappear.
INTERLUDE I
_THIRD ACTION_: _ROMAN_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [150]
_Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS AND SPECIALS
_Individuals_ [2]
Caligula, Emperor of Rome
Naevoleia, a female Mime
_Roman Patricians_ [21]
_Roman Populace_ [80]
_Musicians_ [10]
Two Players of Flutes
” ” ” Citherns
” ” ” Lyres
” ” ” Scabillae [foot cymbals]
” ” ” Shields and Cymbals
_Pantomime Actors_ [7]
Pantimimus, announcing the Pantomime,
“Hercules and the Sphinx.”
Two Boy Pantomimi
Hercules, the demigod
Silenus, the satyr
Servus, a slave
Omphale, a Nymph [afterward disguised as the Sphinx]
_Mimes and Dancers_ [32]
16 Boy-Mimes, as Fauns
16 Girl-Mimes, as Nymphs
THEME
The Emperor Caligula witnesses a farcical comedy in pantomime, enacted
in a street of Rome, A. D. 40.
ACTION
As the last of the Greeks disappear right, the Interlude trumpets sound
at the left gate. There immediately resounds a great shout and clamor
of voices, crying aloud: “Caligula! Salve, Imperator!” The gate is
thrown open, and the Roman populace throng in, accompanying—in varied
groups of squalor and poverty—the gorgeous Patricians that escort the
Emperor Caligula, borne in a chariot, behind which follow a troupe
of Roman Pantomime Actors and Mimes who carry a light platform with
curtain, which they set up [centre, north], facing the altar.
The curtain is painted to represent the street exterior of a house,
in the Pompeian-Roman style. In the centre, set in a lintel frame, is
depicted a wide squat door, the stage platform forming its sill. Above
the door is a window casement. Both door and window are devised to
open and close practically. The top of the curtain is designed as an
over-jutting tiled roof.
With the Pantomimists come a group of Musicians, consisting of players
on flutes, shields and cymbals, citherns and lyres, and two who wear
fastened to their ankles pairs of _scabilla_, a kind of cymbal for the
feet.
The Populace and Patricians meantime cross to right of centre [further
southwest].
In the chariot beside Caligula rides Naevoleia, a female Mime, whom
Caligula—with amorous playfulness—kisses and crowns with gold
laurel as she alights. Alighting with her, he himself helps to attire
her in the garments worn in her part of the nymph Omphale in the
stage pantomime to follow. Doing so, he thrusts aside—with a glance
and gesture of jealous anger—the Chief Actor, who [in the part of
Hercules] approaches to assist.
Caligula then escorts her to the improvised stage where she teasingly
parts with him to play her rôle in the Comedy. Caligula returns to his
chariot.
And now the Comedy is announced by the appearance [through the curtain
door] of Pantomimus, a particolored figure, garbed antiquely as a
harlequin, wreathed and masked.[26]
Behind Pantomimus, enter [on either side of him] two little Pantomimi,
half his height, exactly resembling him in every particular. These,
as with skipping step and motion Pantomimus makes his introduction,
imitate his every movement of wand and gesture.
By his action, which is accompanied by flute, cymbal, and _scabilla_
players, Pantomimus describes very briefly the plot of the comedy which
is to follow, viz:
THE SPHINX AND HERCULES[27]
THEME
Hercules, lured by the nymph Omphale to live with her a woman’s way
of life, becomes terribly bored, rebels, and vows to a statue of
the Sphinx to resume his manly exploits. By the help of the satyr
Silenus, however, who makes Hercules drunk, Omphale—in guise of the
Sphinx—wins Hercules back and marries him.
ACTION
As Pantomimus concludes this dumb-show exposition, he signs to his two
Assistants, who run out and bring back two stage properties, which they
place on either side: the right-hand one represents a squat pillar,
on the top of which is the sitting figure of a bronze Sphinx; the
left-hand—a set-piece of foliage and shrubbery.
All three then make their exit.
Enter, then, on the ground plane, from behind the stage platform,
Servus, a house-slave, masked as such. He places on the platform
a low seat and, beside it, a heap of wool and spinning materials.
Then he prostrates himself toward the left ground entrance, as enter
there—dancing to cymbal music—a group of young girl-mimes [without
masks], dressed as Nymphs and carrying distaffs.
In the midst of these—preceded by most of them—enter Hercules, in
grotesque mask, which depicts a comic-dejected expression. He is wadded
after the manner of the comic histrionic vase-figures of antiquity, and
walks downcast. Instead of his legendary lion’s skin, there hangs from
his shoulder the wooly pelt of a sheep; in place of his knotted club,
his hand holds a huge distaff; and for the rest he is dressed like a
Greek woman.
He is accompanied by Omphale, masked as a beautiful and amorous nymph.
Over her shoulders she wears his lion’s skin; in one hand she holds his
massive club; with the other she caresses him.
With coquetting wiles, the Nymphs in their dancing draw the two toward
the centre, where they sit beside the wool—Hercules, with heavy sighs,
beginning to spin, while Omphale, posing in the lion’s skin, approves
his labor. Here the Nymphs, reclined about them on the platform and the
ground, execute a rhythmic dance with their arms and distaffs, singing
to their movement:
Angustam amice pauperiem pati
robustus acri militia puer
condiscat et Parthos feroces
vexet eques metuendus hasta
vitamque sub divo et trepides agat
in rebus ilium ex moenibus hosticis
matrona bellanti tyranni
prospiciens et adulta virgo
suspiret, eheu, ne rudis agminum
sponsus lacessat regius asperum
tactu leonem, quem cruenta
per medias rapit ira caedes.
At the culmination of this, Hercules, who has been repelling the
attentions of Omphale, at first with feeble ennui, but afterward
with increasing determination, now rises in grandiose disgust,
and—snatching from her his lion’s skin and club—repudiates her and
the Nymphs.
Flinging down the sheep’s pelt and setting his foot upon it, he breaks
his distaff in pieces and, threatening Omphale, drives the Nymphs off
the scene, left. [During this excitement, Servus—who has been standing
aside—seizes the heap of wool, and exit with it in flight.] Turning
then to the image of the Sphinx, Hercules expresses in dumb-show how,
lured by the riddle of the Sphinx, he aspires to fight and conquer the
world for her sake. Laying his club and lion’s skin devoutly at the
foot of the column, he kneels, embraces it, and raises then his arms in
supplication to the Sphinx.
Thus kneeling, he is watched furtively at a distance by Omphale, who,
at his outburst, has run to the edge of the foliage, right. Hercules,
rising, puts on his lion’s skin, and brandishing his club heroically
for the benefit of the immovable Sphinx, goes off, left.
Immediately Omphale seizes from amid the foliage a sylvan pipe,
and blows on it a brief, appealing ditty. At this, from behind the
foliage, run out boy-mimes, in the guise of Fauns; she gesticulates to
them beseechingly. They run back and presently return, advancing to
pipe-music, accompanying and leading a goat, astride of which sits
Silenus, an old grotesque Satyr, in mask.
Omphale greets him joyfully and helps him down from the goat. She
then describes to him in pantomime the late outburst of Hercules—his
breaking the spindle, his enamoration for the Sphinx, etc., and prays
his aid and advice.
Silenus pauses an instant in philosophical absorption, then gives a
leap and skip. Omphale, seeing that he has hit on some plan, expresses
her pleasure and inquires what his plan may be. Silenus bids her call
a slave. Omphale claps her hands toward the left entrance. Servus
enters. Silenus signs to him. Servus goes back and returns immediately,
rolling in a wine-cask, from which he fills an antique beaker. From
this Silenus sips and approves. He then points to the Sphinx and asks
if be that of which Hercules is enamored. Omphale assents. Silenus then
directs Servus to lift the Sphinx down from the pillar. Servus does
so, revealing its hollow interior as he carries it. Silenus, drawing
Omphale’s attention to this fact of its hollowness, opens the door in
the curtain, and commands Servus to bear the Sphinx within. Servus does
so. Silenus, then, pointing to the window above the door, whispers
in the ear of Omphale, who, delighted, enters the door after Servus.
Silenus closes the door as Hercules reënters, left.
The hero has discarded his woman’s garb, and comes forward now dressed
as a man, with lion’s skin and club—his mask changed to one of an
exultant and martial expression.
Silenus greets him with obsequious and cunning servility and offers
him wine. Hercules, with good-natured hauteur, condescends to accept
the cup which he offers. While he is drinking, the window above in the
curtain opens, and Omphale thrusts her head out, revealing [within]
beside her own, the Sphinx’s head. Silenus secretively motions her to
be cautious. Seeing his gesture, Hercules looks up, but not swiftly
enough to detect Omphale, who withdraws. Again looking forth, as he
turns to drink again, Omphale mocks Hercules below, dropping wisps
of wool on his head, the source of which, however, Hercules fails to
detect. Silenus explains that the wool is really feathers, which fell
from a bird flying overhead.
Hercules now, under the sly persuasions of the old Satyr, grows more
pleased with the wine, and becomes drunk—as he becomes so, expressing
to Silenus, with increasing familiarity and descriptive force, all
the mighty exploits he intends to accomplish in the service of the
incomparable Sphinx, whose living prototype he declares he will
immediately set forth in search of.
Starting now, humorously drunk, to depart [right] he is detained
by Silenus, who points upward to the window, where now the blank,
immovable face of the Sphinx looks forth at the sky. Hercules,
bewildered, asks Silenus if it is really the Sphinx herself and alive?
Silenus assents and proves his assertion by pointing to the deserted
pedestal. At this, Hercules addresses the Sphinx, with impassioned
gestures. The Sphinx remains immovable. Hercules becomes discouraged.
Silenus then puts a pipe in his hand, and tells him to play it. He does
so, and is rewarded by a slow, preternatural look from the Sphinx. At
this he plays more vociferously and, surrounded by the little piping
Fauns, performs a serenade beneath the casement, while Silenus, looking
on from a distance, rubs his hands with sly delight.
The serenade ends by Hercules, on his knees, imploring the Sphinx to
come down. The Sphinx at length consents and the casement closes.
Silenus calls his Fauns away to the edge of the foliage, and Hercules
goes to the door.
For a moment nothing happens and Hercules knocks on the steps
impatiently with his club. Then the door opens and enter the
Sphinx—dressed below in the Greek garments of Omphale, but from the
waist upward consisting of the sitting image of the Sphinx, beneath
whose closed wings the arms of Omphale are thrust through and have
place for motion.
The Sphinx, its tail swinging behind, descends the steps, reticent and
impassive, attended by Hercules, drunk and enamored.
Then at the foot of the steps, to the accompaniment from the foliage of
the piping Fauns, who play softly a variation of the serenade theme,
Hercules woos the Sphinx, who, at the proper moment, succumbs to his
entreaties. After embracing him amorously, she extends her hand to him.
He seizes it to kiss; she withdraws it and signifies that he must put
a ring on the ring-finger. Hercules hunts about him in vain for the
ring. Calling then to Silenus and the Fauns, he explains to them the
situation.
Silenus, producing a ring, hands it to Hercules, who puts it on the
finger of the Sphinx.
Instantly a clash of cymbals is heard from the left, and a clapping of
palms from the right, and re-enter the dancing Nymphs, who encircle
the scene just as Servus removes from the bride the great mask of the
Sphinx, thereby revealing her to the astounded Hercules—as Omphale,
who embraces him, exulting in her ring.
Just as she is embracing and kissing him, the scene is interrupted
by a cry of jealous rage from Caligula who springs from his chariot,
calling: “Hercules!” At his gesture slaves run before him, seize
Hercules, and hale him toward Caligula, who bids them whip him.
Frightened, for an instant, Omphale [the Mime Naevoleia] then hastens
as if to intercede, but, seeing Caligula’s expression, taunts him with
toying bravado, and finally as he kisses her makes him burst with her
into laughter, as Hercules is dragged off through the hooting crowd,
flogged by Caligula’s slaves. [During the latter part of this Roman
Action, LUST has appeared at the mouth of Caliban’s cell and looked on.
His voice now joins the loud laughter of Caligula.]
Dispersing in confusion, the Pantomime Actors remove their curtain and
platform [right] into the darkness, which now envelops also Caligula
and the Roman populace.
END OF INTERLUDE I
INTERLUDE II
_FIRST ACTION_: _GERMANIC_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [150]
_Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS [150]
_Individuals_ [2]
Forerunner [Einschreier] Out-crier [Ausschreier]
_Pantomime Actors_ [6] _Musicians_ [10]
Doctor Faustus Ten Pipers
An Apprentice _Symbolic Group_ [22]
Lucifer Doctors [8]
Two Devils Priests [4]
Helena Artists [9]
Melancholia [1]
_Citizens of Nüremberg_ [110]
Men and Women [70]
Apprentices [40]
THEME
On a street of Nüremberg, in their Shrovetide festival, a band of
Apprentices enact, on a wheeled stage, a pantomime scene from an early
version of “Doctor Faustus.” Time: Sixteenth century.
ACTION
At Prospero’s final words in Act I, the playing of pipes is heard
at the right Interlude Gates, where enter a band of Apprentices,
accompanying a wheeled street-stage, drawn by donkeys with bells and
set with a three-fold scene of Earth, Heaven, and Hell. Some of the
Apprentices are masked, some disguised as fools. They enter, singing
an old German folk song, and march to the centre of the ground-circle
(between the altar and the south entrance), where the stage pauses.
Before them has hastened a forerunner (Einschreier), blowing a horn and
shouting: “Schauspieler! Doctor Faustus!”
Along with them, Pipers accompany their singing. Behind them follow
folk of Nüremberg, gaping peasants and merry-making young people.
From the left gate, meanwhile [in obscurer light], enters a graver
group, clad symbolically as Doctors of Learning, Priests, and Artists,
accompanying another wheeled vehicle, the stage of which is wholly
curtained from view.
These stop at some distance from the former group, and look on from a
place of shadow.
And now, where the first stage has paused in a place of brighter glow,
the Actors appear and begin their pantomime.
Doctor Faustus appears on the Middle Stage, Earth. There, amid his
astronomical instruments, he greets the gaping crowd and points a
telescope toward the place of Heaven. Suddenly a comet flashes above
the stage. An Apprentice inquires the reason. Doctor Faustus explains
it by revealing its two fathers—the Sun and the Moon, which now appear
shining simultaneously in Heaven.
At this sorcery, Lucifer comes from Hell, signifies to Faustus that his
hour has come, and that he must follow him. Faustus begs a last wish,
which Lucifer reluctantly grants. He begs to see once more his beloved
Helena of Troy.
Then in Heaven appears Helena, who comes to Faustus on Earth and
embraces him. But now Lucifer—summoning two tailed devils with
pitch-forks—bids them drag Faustus from the arms of Helena, who flees
back to Heaven, disappearing there, as Faustus is prodded and haled to
the up-bursting flames of Hell, amid the exultant laughter of Lucifer.
At this _finale_, the stage and its audience moves off through the
left gate, while the graver Symbolic Group—crossing right in deep
shadow—pauses at the centre.
There, for a moment, the curtains of their pageant stage are drawn,
revealing—in mystic light—a dim-glowing tableau of Albrecht Dürer’s
_Melancholia_.
As this pales into darkness, the Group with its curtained stage moves
vaguely off, and vanishes through the right gate of the Interlude.
INTERLUDE II
_SECOND ACTION_: _FRENCH_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [150]
_Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS [50]
FIGURANTS [100]
_Individuals_ [4]
Francis I, of France _Heralds_ [10: Figurants]
Henry VIII, of England French [5]
French Tourney-rider English [5]
English Tourney-rider
_Nobles and Courtiers_ _Servants and Followers_
[88: Figurants] [48: Participants]
French [44] French [24]
English [44] English [24]
THEME[28]
To celebrate Peace between their nations, after long war, Francis I of
France and Henry VIII of England meet on the Field of the Cloth of Gold
[A. D. 1520], and hold a tournament.
ACTION
After the mystic tableau of the _Melancholia_ has departed, a peal of
trumpets from the Interlude gates [right and left] ushers in a pageant
of contrasted splendor.
In the left gateway appear the Heralds of the French, in the right, of
the English.
Then [to music of the unseen orchestra, above, playing the instrumental
music only of the Chorus “Glory and Serenity,” which later is sung by
voices in Act II], enter, on horseback, the two Kings, Francis I and
Henry VIII, accompanied by their Nobles and Servants.
All are clad in golds and yellows.
On the banners of the English is depicted St. George and the Dragon; on
the banners of the French—the lilies of France.
The servants set up at centre [just south of Caliban’s cell] a gorgeous
canopy with two thrones, in which the two Kings, dismounting, take
their seats, the French followers grouped on the left, the English on
the right.
Then to the royal presence, a Herald summons, by trumpet call, two
Tourney-riders [French and English], who come riding in armor, from
the south gate, on horses caparisoned with their national colors and
symbols.
Taking their places, at signal again of the Herald, to shouts of
the spectators, they ride at each other with set lances, in a mock
battle—which comprises two actions.
In the first action, the French rider is unhorsed, in the second, the
English rider.
During both actions, the English cry “St. George for England!” the
French “Vive la France!”
Between the two actions, the French King rises and toasts the English
King, to acclamations of the French.
After the second action, King Henry compliments King Francis, to
acclamations of the English.
Then, as the two Kings clasp hands, both sides shout aloud: “God save
the King!” and “Vive le Roi!” raising aloft their banners and emblems.
At the climax of this demonstration, the invisible orchestra resumes
the march of “Glory and Serenity,” to which the Kings, remounting their
horses, ride off side by side, followed by their English and French
suites, now commingled, disappearing through the south gateway.
INTERLUDE II
_THIRD ACTION_: _SPANISH-ITALIAN_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [150]
_Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS [150]
[NO FIGURANTS]
_Individuals_ [2] _Improvised Comedy_
The Doge of Venice _Actors_ [6]
The Spanish Ambassador Il Capitano
Arlecchino
_Venetian Nobles_ [24] Il Commandatore
Pantalone
_Spanish Courtiers_ [24] Brighella
_Venetian Populace_ [94] Columbina
THEME
On the plaza of St. Marks in Venice [A. D., about 1630], a troop of
Improvised Comedy Actors [of the _Commedia dell’ Arte_] enact before
the Doge and the Spanish Ambassador, amid the populace, during a
_festa_, a pantomime scene depicting an adventure of Don Giovanni.
ACTION
When the last of the gold-clad French and English have departed through
the South Gate, a chiming of church-bells from the gates of the north
[right and left] gives signal for the entrance there of an Italian
_Festa_.
From the right, enters the Doge with his Venetian nobles, accompanied
by the Italian populace; from the left, the Spanish Ambassador and his
Suite, accompanied by a troop of Improvised Comedy Actors, who set up a
platform on wooden horses before the Doge and the Ambassador where they
meet and greet each other, at right of centre [north].
Here six Actors mount the platform, at the back of which is a curtain,
divided in the middle.
These are _Il Capitano_ [the Captain], _Arlecchino_ [Harlequin], _Il
Commandatore_ [the Commander], _Pantalone_ [Pantaloon], Brighella, and
Columbina [_Columbine_]. They all pass behind the curtain, through the
folds in the middle.
After a moment’s prelude of stringed instruments, then, the Pantomime
begins.
First, in semi-darkness, HARLEQUIN appears, carrying a lighted
lantern on the end of a sword. At a noise of laughter from behind the
curtain he stops and trembles. The laughter sounds again, deep and
harsh; Harlequin trembles so violently that the lantern falls and goes
out.
In the dimness, enter Il Capitano in the part of DON GIOVANNI,
muffled in an immense cloak. Harlequin falls on his back, feigning
death, but keeping his sword pointing upward. Stumbling against him,
Don Giovanni draws his sword and strikes the sword of Harlequin, who
leaps up. They begin a duel, in the midst of which they suddenly
recognize each other as friends and embrace.
Enter now [bringing lanterns, which illumine the stage more brightly]
PANTALOON and BRIGHELLA. Both are wrapped in cloaks.
Greeting Don Giovanni, who returns the greeting, Pantaloon explains
that he has a rendezvous with a beautiful young lady [the head of
Columbine having peered momentarily through the curtain]; that he will
make a certain sign to call her; that he must be cautious, as she has a
fierce and suspicious father. Don Giovanni becomes very interested, and
confides that he, too, must attend a rendezvous, for which he needs a
disguise. For this, he persuades Pantaloon to change cloaks with him.
They do so, their servants also exchanging cloaks.
Exeunt then Pantaloon and Brighella.
Don Giovanni now, approaching the curtain, makes the aforesaid sign
described by Pantaloon. At this, enter COLUMBINE, who mistakes
him for Pantaloon and approaches him lovingly. He allows her to do so,
but soon—opening his cloak—he terrifies her by his wrong identity.
However, he is handsomer than Pantaloon, and quickly wins her for
himself. In this Harlequin delightedly assists him.
Finally, just as Columbine succumbs and goes to his arms, her father,
THE COMMANDER, enters. Seeing her in Don Giovanni’s arms, he
bursts into terrible anger, draws his sword, and attacks the lover.
Harlequin tries to prevent him but fails.
Putting the frightened Columbine behind him, Don Giovanni returns the
attack with his sword, fights and suddenly kills the Commander, who
falls motionless.
In terror, Columbine and Harlequin scream and run out [through
the curtain], leaving Don Giovanni standing with one foot and his
sword-point prodding the dead body.
To screams and shudderings also from the horrified onlookers of the
populace, darkness falls on the stage.
Then, as suddenly—in a burst of light—the Actors come trooping forth
all together in laughter, make faces and comic gestures at the people,
remove their curtain and stage, and run off [right], to merry twanging
of instruments, followed by the Doge, Ambassador, and populace.
END OF INTERLUDE II
INTERLUDE III
In the New York production in May, 1916, the performance of this
Interlude will be arranged by members of the New York City Centre
of the U. S. A. Branch of the English Folk Dance Society, under the
personal direction of Mr. Cecil J. Sharp, who has devised the Action
of this Interlude, and has worded the description of it—in conference
with the author—as here printed.
_ELIZABETHAN ENGLAND_
_Action Continuous, in 8 Successive Episodes_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [about 400]
_Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS AND FIGURANTS
_Individuals_ _Tideswell Procession_: [100]
Sun _May Tree Procession_: [100]
Frost _Morris Dance Group_: [25]
May Queen Dancers: 16
Hobby Horse Dancer Attendants: 9
Club-Man _Hobby Horse Group_: [25]
Fool Dancers: 15
Witch Attendants: 10
King _Tumblers and Jugglers_: [25]
Queen _Rustic Play-Actors_: [25]
Noah _Winter Group_: [50]
Noah’s Wife _Spring Group_: [50]
THEME
Celebration of an Elizabethan May Day Festival on the outskirts of an
English town.
ACTION
1: _CONTEST BETWEEN SPRING AND WINTER_
A group of 25 young men, representing Winter, all dressed in
close-fitting black garments, enter from Caliban’s cell. They carry a
ball and, commanded by one of their number—Frost—advance slowly and
dejectedly and lie down near the centre of the ground guarding the
ball. A group of 25 young men, dressed in tight-fitting green garments,
representing Spring, enter through the right Interlude Gate. Headed
by one of their number—Sun—they come forward running and shouting.
Winter[29] rise and stand in defence of the ball. A scuffle ensues
and the ball is released from the scrimmage. It is then kicked about
by both sides, Spring trying to force it toward the water,[30] Winter
repelling it therefrom. Sun and Frost encourage their respective
supporters but do not touch the ball. Groups of villagers come in, by
twos and threes [20 to 25 in number], and join the ranks of Spring,
who are thus enabled to overpower Winter. Eventually, one of the
Spring group secures the ball, holds it aloft and, surrounded by his
followers, runs toward the water. Winter follow, fatigued and languid.
As the Spring man approaches the water, maidens, 10 or 12 in number,
enter from various quarters and swell the group. The ball is then
raised and ceremonially thrown into the water; whereupon, the girls
join Spring in hunting Winter back again into their cave.
2: _PROCESSIONAL DANCE THROUGH VILLAGE_
While Winter is being driven off the arena, a procession of Villagers,
comprising 50 couples [i. e., partners], enter through South Interlude
Gate and dance the Tideswell Processional Morris. The dancers include
men, women, and children of all classes and are dressed in their
holiday clothes, plentifully bedecked with flowers and ribbons. Each
carries two handkerchiefs, one in each hand, or, if preferred, boughs
of May blossom. They dance round the arena in a spiral until the front
couple reach the centre; whereupon, all raise their arms and shout on
the last chord of the tune. Spring and all the actors already on the
ground join in the procession at the rear, or wherever they can squeeze
in.
3: _REVELS AND AMUSEMENTS_
Upon the completion of the dance, the dancers disperse noisily all over
the ground. The children play Singing Games, e. g., “Oats and Beans,”
“Here We Come Gathering Nuts (i. e. Knots) in May,” “Old Sir Roger,”
etc., in different parts of the ground—not too close together. Booths
and stalls are brought in, a rustic stage[31] is set up, tumblers and
jugglers, surrounded by groups of spectators, give their performances,
and all unite in a scene of general merriment. Couples, each consisting
of a boy and a girl, carry May garlands, sing May day songs, and
solicit offerings. The young men chase the girls and kiss them “under
the green,” i. e., while raising the boughs of green over their heads.
4: _MAY POLE PROCESSION_
The following procession enters from South Interlude Gate.
[1] Two Jack-O’-Greens
[2] Plough-boys with plough.
[3] Sowers.
[4] Reapers.
[5] Wagon, drawn by several yoke of oxen, carrying the tree.
[6] Milkmaids.
[7] Blacksmiths.
[8] Wheelwrights.
[9] Carpenters.
[10] Butchers.
[11] Shoemakers.
[1] Hidden in bushes of green, surmounted by a
May Garland.
[2] White smocks, patched with pictures, in red
and black cloth, representing farm-animals. Hats
covered with flowers, their plough smothered with
ribbons and flowers.
[3] Carrying baskets of grain, pretending to sow.
[4] With reaping hooks or sickles.
[5] Wagon and oxen decorated with greenery and
ribbons, the horns of the oxen with flowers. The
carters, who walk on either side of the wagon, wear
broad-brimmed hats, short smocks, breeches, all
covered with ribbons and flowers, and carry whips
or goads similarly decorated, with which they urge
on the oxen.
[6] Carrying pails and dishes; wearing short
dresses, and sun-hats or bonnets, all covered with
flowers and ribbons.
[7] With bare heads, leathern aprons, carrying
implements of trade—hammers, anvils, tongs.
[8] Carrying or rolling wheels.
[9] With saws, planes, tools, etc.
[10] Wearing blue blouses, carrying marrow bones
and cleavers, and clashing them as they march.
When the wagon reaches the May-pit, the procession halts. The tree is
ceremonially removed, ivy, laurels, and other greenery wound round it
spirally, a large bunch of flowers placed at the top, and then, in dead
silence, solemnly raised to position. Directly this is accomplished,
the spectators raise a great shout and repeat it three times: “The Pole
is up.”
5: _ELECTION OF MAY QUEEN, AND MAY POLE DANCE_
The men disperse in groups and, after some discussion and altercation,
proceed in a body to the woman of their choice, present her with a
wreath of May blossom, with ribbon streamers and rosettes for her
dress, and escort her to a raised mound of grass where every one may
see her. She is kissed “under the green” by the men, amid much laughter
and merriment. The woman chosen is a regular “man’s girl,” jolly and of
a romping kind, quite different from the conventional May Queen.
A large group is formed round the May pole in a ring, alternately
men and women, and all take hands. The May pole dance is then
performed—“Sellenger’s Round” and “Gathering Peascods.”
6: _HOBBY HORSE AND PADSTOW MAY SONG_
The hobby horse is made in the following way: A wooden hoop, about
3 feet in diameter, is covered with black canvas with a hole in the
centre, about the size of a man’s head. The canvas is edged with
red and white ribbon round the circumference, and depends from the
edges about 4 feet like a curtain. The hoop is then placed on a man’s
shoulders, his head, hidden in a tall conical mask of many colors,
passing through a hole in the centre of the canvas, the curtain hiding
his body and legs. In the front of the hoop is a long, slender horse’s
head, made of wood, and at the back of the hoop is attached a curly
horse’s tail about 18 inches long. The horse is accompanied by the
“Club-man” who is dressed in black, covered with rosettes and bows
of colored ribbon, and wears a grotesque mask similar to that of the
hobby horse. Throughout the proceedings, he faces the Horse and dances
backward, holding in his right hand a stout, nobbed club, about 18 to
24 inches in length, colored like the mask.
The hobby horse enters from the left Interlude Gate, escorted by six
or eight couples of men, gaily dressed and decorated with flowers,
singing the May song, in which the assembled spectators join. As they
make their appearance, the crowd runs out, meets them, and surrounds
them in a ring, in the middle of which the horse and its attendant
dance, the former every now and again dashing out and trying to
catch one of the maidens, who, with much laughter, usually succeeds
in avoiding his clumsy embraces. When the tune has been sung a few
times, a slight pause is made, the horse sinks down with his head on
the ground, the club-man drops on one knee and places his club on the
horse’s nose, while the crowd sing very solemnly the dirge-like strain,
“O Where is St. George?” At the conclusion of this, a slight pause is
made and then the riotous May song is suddenly taken up and the dance
resumed. This may be repeated once or twice, when the proceedings are
interrupted by the entrance of the
7: _MORRIS DANCERS_
The dancers, all of them men, are 16 in number and are accompanied by
a King and Queen, Witch and Fool, and Hobby horses. The Witch and Fool
head the procession, the former with his broom, and the latter with his
stick, fox’s tail, and bladder clearing the way. The King and Queen
march at the head of the Morris dancers, the King beating time with
his sword. The Hobby horses prance round and aid the Witch and Fool
in clearing a passage. The dancers move forward, dancing the “Winster
Processional Dance.” When the procession has reached a good position in
the centre, the tune changes and without pause the dancers perform the
“Winster Morris Reel,” “The Old Woman Tossed up in a Blanket.”
For the dresses of the dancers see photographs in The Morris Book
[parts II and III]. The Witch is a man dressed in bedraggled woman’s
clothes, with face blackened, and carries a short besom. The Fool has a
pork-pie hat covered with flowers and feathers, tunic, to the hips, of
bright multi-colored stuff edged with silver fringe, buckskin breeches,
stockings of odd colors, and bells round the ankles. He carries a stick
with a fox’s tail at one end and a bladder at the other. Sometimes
he has a dinner-bell attached to the middle of his back. The King
and Queen are serious characters, the latter being represented by a
man dressed in woman’s clothes. The King carries a sword and should
be dressed in the military dress of the period: the Queen is grandly
dressed, with a touch of comic extravagance, in the garb of a court
lady of the period. The Hobby horses—say half a dozen in number—are
of the “tournament” variety, and carry sticks and bladders.
8: _COUNTRY DANCES AND RECESSIONAL_
When the Morris dance is finished, the company disperses and amuses
itself for a while until the pipe-and-taborers make their appearance.
This is a signal for every one to find a partner for a country dance.
Groups are formed all over the ground and “The Black Nag” is performed,
followed by a Longways dance, e. g., “Row well, ye mariners.” On the
conclusion of the latter, the dancers, who are already in processional
formation, dance off the ground to the “Helston Ferry Processional
Dance,” disappearing in different groups through the several exits.
EPILOGUE
_ACTION: INTERNATIONAL AND SYMBOLIC_
THEME
In three main, symbolic groups—Theatres, Actors, Dramatists—The
Spirit of Time summons the creative forces of the art of the theatre,
to defeat the destructive influences of War, Lust, and Death, and
prophetically to survive them.
ACTION[32]
First, from the two gates [right and left] of the ground-circle, the
Pageant of Theatres enters in two processions, which group themselves
[right and left of Caliban’s cell] on the flight of steps and ramps
leading to Stage B.
Secondly, through the mouth-entrances of the Masks of Comedy and of
Tragedy, the Comic Actors [through the former] and the Tragic Actors
[through the latter] enter upon stage B, cross before Prospero
and take their stations, with their respective Theatres, on the steps
and ramps.
Thirdly, the Dramatists, of Comedy and Tragedy, do likewise.
In this procession of the Dramatists, occurs the pantomime and stage
business of the meeting between Prospero and Shakespeare.
After the procession of Dramatists, all three main groups are enveloped
by darkness, in which—after the final choir of Ariel’s spirits—they
disperse, unseen.
EPILOGUE
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [300]
_Comprise_
SPECIALS: 300
_Theatres_: Total 100 persons [25 groups]
_Actors_: ” 100 ”
_Dramatists_: ” 100 ”
----
[33]Grand total 300 ”
From the following lists of Theatres, Actors, and Dramatists, revised
and modified, the final groups will be selected. The lists, as here
given, are merely preliminary, and have been sketched in, during the
printing of this Appendix, so as not to be wholly omitted from the
publication of this edition. As far as they concern the New York
production of the Masque, _they are not to be construed as anything
more than suggestive material for the necessarily impressionistic
pageant-groups of the Epilogue_.
_THEATRES_
ANCIENT GREECE
Theatre of Dionysus at Athens, Epidaurus,
Ephesus, Sicyon.
ANCIENT ROME
Theatre of Pompey, Scarrus, Balbus Cornelius,
Marcellus.
_Provincial Theatres_
Antioch, Lyons, Herculaneum, Orange.
CONSTANTINOPLE
Hippodrome, of Emperor Septimius Severus.
ITALY
Florence della Pergola
Venice Fenice
Genoa Carlo Felice
Milan La Scala
Vicenza Olympian Theatre
PORTUGAL
Lisbon San Carlos
FRANCE
Hotel du Burgoyne, Comedie Francaise, Palais
Royal, Odeon, Porte St. Martin, Antoine.
AUSTRIA
Vienna Burgtheater
GERMANY
Weimar, Deutsches, Lessing.
RUSSIA
Art Theatre, Warsaw; Kremlin, Moscow.
AMERICA
_New York_
Booth’s, Bowery, Wallack’s, Daly’s.
_Boston_
Federal Street, Boston Theatre, Boston Museum.
_Philadelphia_
Arch Street, Walnut Street, Chestnut Street.
_Chicago_
McVicker’s.
_San Francisco_
California.
_Washington_
Ford’s.
_New Orleans_
St. Charles.
ENGLAND
Globe, Bankside, Bear Garden, Hope, Swan,
Drury Lane, Haymarket, Covent Garden.
_Dublin_
Smock Alley.
_ACTORS_
_GREECE_
Thespis, Polus [of Aegina], Aristodemus, Neoptolemus,
Thessalus, Athenodorus, Cleander, Mynniscus
[of Chalcis], Callipides, Timotheus.
_ROME_
Esopus, Roscius, C. Publilius, Ambivius Turpio,
Haitilius Praenestinus, Bathyllus, Pylades, Publilius
Syrus.
_ITALY_
[_Actors_] Domenico Biancolelli, Luigi Riccoboni,
Nicola Barbieri, Francesco Andreini, Fiorelli, Tommasino,
Salvini, Madena, Rossi.
[_Actresses_] Sedowsky, Isabella Andreini, Ristori.
_SPAIN_
[_Actors_] Lope de Rueda, Navarro of Toledo,
Alonso de Olmedo, Sebastian de Prado, Isidoro
Maiquez, José Valero, Julián Romea, Rafael Calvo,
Antonio Vico.
[_Actresses_] La Baltasara, La Calderona, La Pacheca,
La Tirana, Rita Luna, Matilde Diez.
_FRANCE_
[_Actors_] Jodelet, Harduin, Rodogune, Talma, Got,
LeKain, Molé, Fréville, Baron, Montfleury, Lemaitre,
Coquelin, Mounet Sulley.
[_Actresses_] Dangville, Rachel, George, Mars, Des
Oeillets, Bejart, Champmeslé, Lecouvreur, Dumesnil,
Clairon, David.
_HOLLAND_
[_Actors_] Louis Bouwmeister, Willem Haverkorn,
Johannes Haverkamp, Andries Snoek.
[_Actresses_] Mme. Wattier.
_GERMANY_
[_Actors_] Possart, Bamay, Kainz, Iffland, Konrad,
Ekkof, Dawison, Lewinsky, Döhring, Ackerman,
Carl Bonn, Dalberg, L. Dessoit, Anschutz, Hasse,
Beckmann, Gabillon.
[_Actresses_] Sonnenthal, Devrient, Schröder, Carolina
Neuber, Charlotte Wolter, Julie Rettich, Julie
Löwe, Carolina Bauer, Geistinger, Zitt, Raabe,
Buske, Fleck, Brockmann, Matkowsky, Dingelstedt,
Borchers.
[_SCANDINAVIA_]
_DENMARK_
[_Actors_] Ludwig Phister, Christen N. Rosenkilde,
Nicolai Nielsen, Emil Poulsen, Michael Wieke,
Michael Rosing.
[_Actresses_] Johanne Louise Heiberg, Anna Neilsen,
Julie Södring.
_SWEDEN_
[_Actors_] Fredrik Deland, Ebba Hwasser, Pierre
Deland, Karl Georg Dahlquist.
_NORWAY_
[_Actors_] Johannes Brun, Henrik Klausen.
[_Actresses_] Laura Gundersen, Lucie Wolf, Sophie
Pavelius.
_RUSSIA_
[_Actors_] V. Samoilov, N. Samoilov, Nikitin, Ershov,
Lenski, Karatygina (family), M. S. Shchepkin,
Krapivnitzki.
[_Actresses_] Fedotava, Vyera Samortova, Savina,
Karatygina (family), Kommissaryhevskaya, E. P.
Struyskaya.
_AMERICA_
[_Actors_] Junius Brutus Booth, Jas. Wallack, Edwin
Forrest, Edwin Booth, Lester Wallack, Wm.
Warren, John McCulloch, Lawrence Barrett, E. A.
Sothern, Jos. Jefferson, Wm. Florence, James A.
Hackett, John Gilbert, Edward L. Davenport, Wm.
B. Wood, T. A. Cooper, Wilson Barrett, Rignold,
Chas. Wheatley, MacKean, Buchanon, James Murdock,
J. B. Roberts, Williamson, Whiffin, Tony
Pastor, Hart, Harrigan, Stuart Robson, John T. Raymond,
Denman Thompson, Maurice Barrymore,
Richard Mansfield.
[_Actresses_] Charlotte Cushman, Mrs. John Drew,
Modjeska, Matilda Heron, Mme. Ponisi, Laura
Keene, Fannie Davenport, Ada Rehan.
_GREAT BRITAIN_
[_Actors_] Burbage, Betteron, Colley Cibber, Garrick,
Macready, Edmund Kean, Tyrone Power,
Samuel Phelps, Buckstone, Charles Macklin, Samuel
Foote, Tate Wilkinson, Barry, Quinn, Henderson,
John Philip Kemble, Robert Wilks, Thomas Sheridan,
Henry Mossop, John Liston, William Betty,
Henry Irving, Lawrence Irving.
[_Actresses_] Nance Oldfield, Mrs. Betterton, Mrs.
Mountfort, Mrs. Bracegirdle, Nell Gwynne, Mrs.
Siddons, Peg Woffington, Fanny Kemble, Hannah
Pritchard, Mrs. Abington, Mrs. Jordan, George
Anne Bellamy, Helen Barry, Helen Faucit, Katherine
Clive, Mrs. Farren.
_DRAMATISTS_
_GREECE_
[_Tragedy_] Aeschylus, Choerilus, Pratinas, Phrynichus,
Sophocles, Euripides, Carcinus, Chaeremon.
[_Comedy_] Phormis [of Maenalus], Epicharmus,
Susarion, Chionides, Aristophanes, Eupolis, Magnes,
Philemon, Menander, Rhinthon, Apollodorus, Diphilus,
Posidippus.
_ROME_
[_Tragedy_] Livius Andronicus, Accius, Pacuvius,
Asinius Pollis, Varius, Ovid, Seneca, Curiatius
Maternus, J. Cæsar Strabo.
[_Comedy_] Plautus, Terence, Ennius, Statius Caecilius,
Lavinius, Naevius, Melissus, Afranius, Laberius,
Pomponius, Atta.
_ITALY_
[_Tragedy_] Ariosto, Manzoni, Alfieri, Nicolini,
Tasso.
[_Comedy_] Metastasio, Martelli, Maffei, Gozzi,
Pindemonti, Monti, Flavio, Goldoni.
_SPAIN AND PORTUGAL_
[_Spain_] Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Calderon, Alarcon,
Gongora, Argensola, Moreto, de Hoz, Canizarez,
Luzan, Huerta.
[_Portugal_] Saa de Miranda, Gil Vincente, Ferreira,
Garcao.
_FRANCE_
Etienne Jodelle, Garnier, Larivey, Montcrétien,
Hardi, Viaud, Scudéri, Corneille, Boisrobert, Chevreau,
Scarron, de Bergerac, Quinault, Molière,
Boursault, Racine, Voltaire, l’Hermite, Rotrou,
Crébillon, Le Sage, Beaumarchais, Longpierre, Fontenelli,
La Motte, Legrand, Destouches, Marivaux,
Sardou, Hugo, Dumas, Scribe, Zola, Legouvé, Augier,
Halévy, Le Maitre, De Vigny.
_HOLLAND_
Hooft, Brederoo, Vondel, Vos, Goes, Pels, Asselijn,
van Focquenbroch, Bilderdijk.
_GERMANY_
Hans Sachs, Gryphius, Gottshed, Klopstock,
Wieland, Herder, Kozebue, Hafner, Goethe, Schiller,
Lessing, Novalis, Arnim, Hoffmann, Hrotsvitha of
Gandersheim, Kleist, Grillparzer, Schlegel, Freytag,
Heyse, Gutzkow, Wagner, Werner, Körner, Klingemann,
Uhland, Chamisso, Arndt, Heine, Grabbe,
Immermann, Weise, Grinunelohausen, Klinger, Ludwig,
Laube, Holm, Giebel, Wildenbruch, Angengruber,
Nestroy, Raimund.
_SCANDINAVIA_
Holberg, Oehlenschläger, J. L. Heiberg, Bjornson,
Wessel, Ewald, Hauch, Hostrup, Hertz, Paludan-Müller,
Overskou, Ibsen, Lidner, Tegner, Runeberg,
Blanche, Strindberg, Kielland, Lie.
_RUSSIA_
Sumarokoff, Catherine II, Von Viezin, Krilov,
Astrovski, Pushkin, Gogol, Tolstoi, Tchekhof, Griboyedov.
_AMERICA_
Royal Tyler, John Howard Payne, Boker, Longfellow,
Wm. Young, N. P. Willis, Dion Boucicault,
John Brougham, Augustin Daly, Steele MacKaye,
Bronson Howard, James A. Herne, Clyde Fitch,
William Vaughn Moody.
_GREAT BRITAIN_
Beaumont, Fletcher, Jonson, Shirley, Greene,
Peele, Webster, Ford, Massinger, Middleton, Heywood,
Lyly, Marlowe, Shakespeare, Dekker, Marston:—Dryden,
Wycherley, Congreve, Vanbrugh,
Otway, Etheredge, d’Urfey, Farquhar, d’Avenant,
Sedley, Lacy, Shadwell, Crowne, Steele, Addison,
Rowe:—Goldsmith, Sheridan, Fielding, Shelley:—Knowles,
Lytton, Robertson, Tennyson, Browning,
Reade, Taylor, Wilde:—Phillips, Synge, Hankin,
Davidson.
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Information for Communities, Clubs, Societies, and Drama
League Centres throughout the Country about
Mr. PERCY MACKAYE’S
SHAKESPEARE TERCENTENARY MASQUE
Entitled
“_CALIBAN: BY THE YELLOW SANDS_”
Doubleday, Page & Company have pleasure in announcing Mr. MacKaye’s
Masque, which in many respects has become the national tribute of the
New York Shakespeare Celebration, the Shakespeare National Memorial
Committee, and The Drama League of America for the anniversary of 1916.
The publication of the Masque has been hurried as much as possible
in order to give communities, societies, colleges, and Drama League
centres throughout the country an opportunity to read the text and thus
arrange their celebrations in harmony with the Masque.
The first performances of the Masque will be given by the New York
Shakespeare Celebration during the week of May 23d, when it will be
enacted out of doors, at night, in the City College Stadium adapted to
seat about 20,000 spectators. There several thousand citizens of New
York will take part in conjunction with a body of actors of national
repute. It will then be released for use by other communities or
societies on June 1st. Immediately after the close of the New York
performances, a professional company will take the Masque on the road
for presentation by them in conjunction with community and club groups
throughout the country. The professional company will fill the leading
parts and take with them a complete outfit of scenery and properties.
For full particulars, address the Chairman of the National Circuit
Committee, 736 Marquette Bldg., Chicago, Ill., or, Augustin Duncan, 50
West 12th St., New York City.
Amateur performances of the Masque may also be given after June
1st, without the aid of the professional company, by making proper
arrangements for securing permission. Full directions for amateur
performances, or for public readings where seats are sold, may be
had from Miss Alice Houston, National Headquarters, Drama League of
America, Chicago, Ill.
The Drama League of America strongly recommends to its centres the use
of the Masque as the special League reading for April. The text will be
available in two editions: Paper at 50 cents and Cloth at $1.25 or
thereabouts.
The Drama League hopes to establish in the near future a _Pageant
Series_, similar to the _Play Series_, of which “Caliban” by Mr.
MacKaye would be the first volume.
_REMEMBER THESE POINTS_
“_CALIBAN: BY THE YELLOW SANDS_”
By Percy MacKaye. A National tribute to
Shakespeare for 1916. Endorsed by the Drama
League of America.
_FIRST PERFORMANCE_
New York, May 23d, by citizens and notable
group of professional actors.
_RELEASED FOR GENERAL USE_
June 1st. Acting rights may be secured as indicated
below:—
_PERFORMANCES BY COMMUNITIES OR
CLUBS WITH PROFESSIONAL COMPANY_
Full particulars may be had by addressing Miss
Alice M. Houston, Chairman Circuit Committee,
Drama League of America, 1426 Forest Ave.,
Evanston, Ill.
_ALL-AMATEUR PERFORMANCES_
Full particulars may be had by addressing Miss
Clara Fitch, Chairman Shakespeare Tercentenary
Committee, 736 Marquette Bldg., Chicago, Ill.
_PUBLIC READINGS WHERE SEATS ARE SOLD_
For particulars address Miss Houston (as above).
_THE PRINTED BOOK OF THE MASQUE_
Paper edition 50 cents. Cloth edition $1.25 net.
For sale everywhere at book shops or by Doubleday,
Page & Company, Garden City, New York.
New York City
Shakespeare Tercentenary Celebration
CIVIC ORGANIZATION
MISS MARY PORTER BEEGLE, _Chairman_
MRS. AXEL O. IHLSENG, _Executive Secretary_
10 EAST 43D STREET, NEW YORK CITY
Telephone, Murray Hill 9745
_Supplementary Celebrations_ _Chairman of Finance_
MISS KATE OGLEBAY, _Chairman_ MR. W. FORBES MORGAN, JR.
MISS FERN CLAWSON, _Vice-Chairman_ _Executive Chairman_
MR. EVERARD THOMPSON
_Advisory on Forms of Celebrations_ _Masque Committee Chairman_
MISS JOSEPHINE BEIDERHASE MRS. SIMEON FORD
MISS FRANCES E. CLARKE _Music_
MR. ARTHUR FARWELL MR. HARRY BIRNBAUM
MR. WM. CHAUNCY LANGDON
MISS AZUBAH LATHAM _Organizing Director of the Masque_
MISS CONSTANCE MACKAY
Mr. GARNET HOLME
Telephone, Greeley 1137
Board of Directors
PROF. ALLAN ABBOTT DR. GEORGE F. KUNZ
MISS MARY PORTER BEEGLE HOWARD KYLE
DR. WILLIAM E. BOHN MISS OLIVIA LEVENTRITT
CRANSTON BRENTON MRS. PHILIP M. LYDIG
JOHN COLLIER W. FORBES MORGAN, JR.
MISS LAURA SEDGWICK COLLINS MRS. M. FAIRCHILD OSBORN
MRS. AUGUST DREYER MISS FLORENCE OVERTON
MAX EASTMAB REV. DR. JOSEPH SILVERMAN
MRS. WILLIAM EINSTEIN PROF. EDMUND BRONK SOUTHWICK
MRS. SIMEON FORD MR. M. J. STROOCK
MRS. DANIEL GUGGENHEIM MR. EVERARD THOMPSON
MRS. J. NORMAN DE R. WHITEHOUSE
THE SHAKESPEARE CELEBRATION
will present
in the Lewisohn Stadium of the College of the City of New York
on the nights of May 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 1916, at Eight O’clock
_The Community Masque_
CALIBAN
By the Yellow Sands
PRODUCTION STAFF
_Author and Director_
PERCY MACKAYE
_Composer and Director of Music_
ARTHUR FARWELL
_Producers_
JOSEPH URBAN
RICHARD ORDYNSKI
_Designer of Inner Scenes_
ROBERT EDMOND JONES
_Director of Interludes_
GARNET HOLME
_Director of Costumes_
MRS. JOHN W. ALEXANDER
_Director of Dances_
MRS. ROBERT ANDERSON
_Staff Assistant_
HAZEL MACKAYE
Office of the Director: 529 Marbridge Bldg. (34th St. & 6th Ave.);
telephone, Greeley 1137.
For particulars regarding Tickets, etc., communication should be made
with the office of the Shakespeare Celebration, 10 East 43d St.,
New York. Telephones, Murray Hill 9745 and 4158.
THE MAYOR’S HONORARY COMMITTEE
For the New York Shakespeare Celebration
OTTO H. KAHN, _Chairman_.
HERBERT ADAMS REV. JOHN HAYNES HOLMES
DR. FELIX ADLER FREDERIC C. HOWE
JACOB P. ADLER ARTHUR CURTISS JAMES
JOHN G. AGAR MRS. PAUL KENNADAY
ROBERT AITKEN DR. J. J. KINDRED
WINTHROP AMES DARWIN P. KINGSLEY
DONN BARBER LEE KOHNS
JOSEPH BARONDESS DR. GEORGE F. KUNZ
MRS. AUGUST BELMONT THOMAS W. LAMONT
GUTZON BORGLUM DR. HENRY M. LEIPSIGER
CHANCELLOR ELMER E. BROWN ADOLPH LEWISOHN
HENRY BRUERE M. J. LAVELLE, V.G.
ARNOLD BRUNNER WALTER LIPPMANN
PRES. NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER PHILIP LYDIG
ABRAHAM CAHAN CLARENCE H. MACKAY
MRS. WILLIAM ASTOR CHANDLER MISS ELIZABETH MARBURY
WILLIAM M. CHASE EDWIN MARKHAM
JOSEPH H. CHOATE MISS HELEN MAROT
THOMAS W. CHURCHILL DR. BRANDER MATTHEWS
PAUL D. CRAVATH REV. HOWARD MELISH
JOHN D. CRIMMINS DR. APPLETON MORGAN
GEORGE CROMWELL J. P. MORGAN
R. FULTON CUTTING DR. HENRY MOSKOWITZ
WALTER DAMROSCH ADOLPH S. OCHS
R. S. DAVIS RALPH PULITZER
HENRY P. DAVISON PERCY R. PYNE, 2d
ROBT. W. DE FOREST W. C. REICK
MRS. CAMDEN C. DIKE ELIHU ROOT
A. J. DITTENHOEFER EDWARD A. RUMELY
CLEVELAND H. DODGE JACOB M. SCHIFF
CAROLINE B. DOW MORTIMER L. SCHIFF
FRANK L. DOWLING JAMES SPEYER
MRS. H. EDWARD DREIER FRANCIS LYNDE STETSON
MAX EASTMAN FREDERIC A. STOKES
SAMUEL H. EVINS J. G. PHELPS STOKES
JOHN H. FINLEY JOSEF STRANSKY
NED ARDEN FLOOD OSCAR S. STRAUS
DANIEL C. FRENCH AUGUSTUS THOMAS
CHARLES DANA GIBSON LOUIS UNTERMEYER
BERTRAM C. GOODHUE MRS. WILLIAM K. VANDERBILT
RT. REV. DAVID H. GREER OSWALD GARRISON VILLARD
JULES GUERIN MISS LILLIAN D. WALD
MRS. DANIEL GUGGENHEIM DR. JAMES J. WALSH
MRS. BENJAMIN GUINESS CABOT WARD
NORMAN HAPGOOD J. ALDEN WEIR
MRS. J. BORDEN HARRIMAN CHARLES D. WETMORE
WILLIAM LAUREL HARRIS EDWARD J. WHEELER
COL. GEORGE HARVEY F. W. WHITRIDGE
TIMOTHY HEALY THOMAS W. WHITTLE
A. BARTON HEPBURN GEORGE WICKERSHAM
MORRIS HILLQUIT WILLIAM G. WILLCOX
JAMES P. HOLLAND DR. STEPHEN S. WISE
H. J. WRIGHT
[Illustration]
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS
GARDEN CITY, N. Y.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The words of Shakespeare used in this Masque, are quoted from the
Tudor Edition of Shakespeare’s Works, edited by Neilson and Thorndike
(Macmillan). The stage directions and cuts, however, are not taken from
any edition, but have been made by me for purposes of the Inner Scenes.
[2] In this book these Inner Scenes are printed in black-faced type.
[3] This is the motive of Mr. Robert Edmond Jones’ cover design for
this volume.
[4] An outline of suggestions on this subject I published in a volume,
“The Civic Theatre, in Relation to the Redemption of Leisure” [1912].
Further ideas and their applications are contained in the prefaces and
dramatic texts of my Bird Masque “Sanctuary,” “Saint Louis: A Civic
Masque,” and “The New Citizenship,” a Civic Ritual.
[5] The outgoing cost of the Saint Louis production was $122,000; the
income $139,000. The balance of $17,000 has been devoted to a fund for
civic art. The cost of producing a single play by Sophocles at Athens
was $500,000.
[6] Page 71, on Constructive Leisure (Mitchell Kennerley, 1912).
[7] New York, 1915, Macmillan.
[8] See Appendix, page 154.
[9] The Masque Proper consists of the Prologue and Three Acts, without
the Inner Scenes and the Epilogue and Interludes.
[10] Visualized by a Super-puppet.
[11] Visualized by an idol.
[12] See Appendix: Pages 207-216.
[13] The more detailed description of this Interlude is given in the
Appendix, pages 162 to 183.
[14]
“The barge she sat in, like a burnish’d throne,
Burn’d on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them. The oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke.... For her own person,
It beggar’d all description: she did lie
In her pavilion—cloth-of-gold of tissue—
O’er-picturing that Venus where we see
The fancy out-work nature. On each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With diverse-color’d fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool....
Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,
So many mermaids, tended her i’ the eyes,
And made their bends adornings. At the helm
A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle
Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,
That yarely frame the office. From the barge
A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs.”
—[_Antony and Cleopatra_: II, 2. Shakespeare.]
The charm and splendor of this description applies here only to the
beauty of the barge and those it bears: otherwise Cleopatra and her
attendants are, in their appearance, distraught and fearful, and the
barge shows signs of recent perilous escape from the scene of Antony’s
sea-battle with Octavius Cæsar.
Being here conceived as a plastic vision in the mind of Prospero,
this Inner Scene—an excerpt from Act III, Scene XI, of Shakespeare’s
play—has, by dramatic license appropriate to this masque, been laid in
a scene suggested by the above description of the barge.
[15] During this scene, Caliban—watching intently—slides from the steps
of the throne and crawls slowly forward on his stomach to the centre,
where he lies prone, with head lifted—his body pointed toward the Inner
stage—kicking at times his lower legs [from the knees] in the air.
[16] For fuller description of this Interlude, see Appendix, pages
184-194.
[17] From Shakespeare’s “King Henry the Eighth,” Act I, Scene 1.
[18] From Shakespeare’s “King Henry the Eighth,” Act I, Scene 1.
[19] See Appendix, pages 196-204, for more detailed description.
[20] For details of these Epilogue groups, see Appendix, pages 205-216.
[21] The plan for this India episode is based on a ritual scene of the
ancient Hindu drama “Shakuntala,” by Kalidasa, translated by Garnet
Holme and Arthur W. Ryder, and recently produced by the authors in
California. The translation is published by University of California
Press, Berkeley, 1914. Those communities that may desire to include
this Action in their local festivals should communicate with Mr. Garnet
Holme, care of The Shakespeare Celebration, 10 East 43rd Street, New
York City.
[22] The revolving of the disk, of course, is apparent only, not real.
Actually, the disk remains motionless; it appears to revolve because of
the motion of the Priests around it.
[23] See “Kings and Gods of Egypt,” Alexandre Moret; pp. 69-108.
[24] Similarly before each of the Actions of each Interlude, Prospero
makes a brief explanatory comment to Ariel (and thus to the audience).
[25] The Choregus was the Producer, usually a man of great wealth.
[26] In one hand Pantomimus carries a wand resembling a caduceus, but
differing from that of Mercury in that the heads of the twining snakes
are carved as little masks of comedy, and the tip of the wand, to which
the flying wings are affixed, is the shining disk of a mirror, into
which at times Pantomimus peers quaintly at his reflection.
[27] The Pantomime is adapted from a Roman Interlude by the author in
his drama “Sappho and Phaon.”
[28] This Theme inheres in an excerpt from Shakespeare’s “King Henry
VIII,” Act I, Scene I, quoted by Ariel as Prologue to the Sixth Inner
Scene of the Masque, for which the actual dialogue of no Shakespeare
Scene dealing with France appears so appropriate for the Masque’s uses
as a pantomime based on this excerpt from Henry VIII.
[29] The words _Winter_ and _Spring_ refer to the respective Groups.
[30] The water is represented by the blue ground, beyond the verge of
the Yellow Sands.
[31] Here the play-actors enact a scene from the old play of “Noah’s
Flood.”
[32] The Action here described, like that of all the preceding
Interludes, is simply a preliminary outline, subject to modification
and development at rehearsals.
[33] With this number several hundred of the Interlude participants and
Masque figurants are to be correlated in the final ensemble.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Underscores “_” before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_
in the original text.
Small capitals have been converted to SOLID capitals.
Illustrations have been moved so they do not break up paragraphs.
Typographical errors have been silently corrected but other variations
in spelling and punctuation remain unaltered.
End of Project Gutenberg's Caliban by the Yellow Sands, by Percy MacKaye