THE RESOLVE OF REGULUS.—Sargent.

EnterSpartacus, L.,[6]Jovius, R.

Spartacus.Speak, Roman! wherefore does thy master sendThy gray hairs to the “cut throat’s” camp?Jovius.Brave rebel—Spart.Why, that’s a better name than rogue or bondman;But in this camp I am calledGeneral.Jov.Brave General,—for, though a rogue and bondman,As you have said, I’ll still allow you General,As he that beats a consul surely is.Spart.Say two—two consuls; and to that e’en addA proconsul, three prætors, and some generals.Jov.Why, this is no more than true. Are you a Thracian?Spart.Ay.Jov.There is something in the air of ThraceBreeds valor up as rank as grass. ’Tis pity.You are a barbarian.Spart.Wherefore?Jov.Had you been bornA Roman, you had won by this a triumph.Spart.I thank the gods I am barbarian;For I can better teach the grace-begotAnd heaven-supported masters of the earthHow a mere dweller of a desert rockCan bow their crowned heads to his chariot-wheels,Their regal necks to be his stepping-blocks.But come, what is thy message?Jov.Julia, nieceOf the prætor, is thy captive.Spart.Ay.Jov.For whomIs offered in exchange thy wife, Senona,And thy young boy.Spart.Tell thou the prætor, Roman,The Thracian’s wife is ransomed.Jov.How is that?Spart.Ransomed, and by the steel, from out the campOf slaughtered Gellius! (Pointing off.) Behold them, Roman!Jov.(Looking asSpart.points.) This is sorcery!But name a ransom for the general’s niece.Spart.Have I not now the prætor on the hip?He would, in his extremity, have madeMy wife his buckler of defence; perhapsHave doomed her to the scourge! But this is Roman.Now the barbarian is instructed. Look!I hold the prætor by the heart; and heShall feel how tightly grip barbarian fingers.Jov.Men do not war on women. Name her ransom.Spart.Men do not war on women! Look you:One day I climbed up to the ridgy topOf the cloud-piercing Hæmus, where, amongThe eagles and the thunders, from that height,I looked upon the world, as far as where,Wrestling with storms, the gloomy Euxine chafedOn his recoiling shores; and where dim AdriaIn her blue bosom quenched the fiery sphere.Between those surges lay a land, might onceHave matched Elysium; but Rome had made itA Tartarus. In my green youth I lookedFrom the same frosty peak where now I stood,And then beheld thegloryof those lands,Where Peace was tinkling on the shepherd’s bellAnd singing with the reapers.Since that glad day, Rome’s conquerors had passedWith withering armies there, and all was changed.Peace had departed; howling War was there,Cheered on by Roman hunters. Then, methoughtE’en as I looked upon the altered scene,Groans echoed through the valleys, through which ranRivers of blood, like smoking Phlegethons;Fires flashed from burning villages, and FamineShrieked in the empty cornfields! Women and children,Robbed of their sires and husbands, left to starve—These were the dwellers of the land! Say’st thouRome wars not, then, on women?Jov.This is not to the matter.Spart.Now, by Jove,It is! These things do Romans. But the earthIs sick of conquerors. There is not a man,Not Roman, but is Rome’s extremest foe:And such am I; sworn from that hour I sawThose sights of horror, while the gods support me,To wreak on Rome such havoc as Rome wreaks,Carnage and devastation, woe and ruin.Why should I ransom, when I swear to slay?Begone! This is my answer!Bird.

Spartacus.Speak, Roman! wherefore does thy master sendThy gray hairs to the “cut throat’s” camp?

Spartacus.Speak, Roman! wherefore does thy master send

Thy gray hairs to the “cut throat’s” camp?

Jovius.Brave rebel—

Spart.Why, that’s a better name than rogue or bondman;But in this camp I am calledGeneral.

Spart.Why, that’s a better name than rogue or bondman;

But in this camp I am calledGeneral.

Jov.Brave General,—for, though a rogue and bondman,As you have said, I’ll still allow you General,As he that beats a consul surely is.

Jov.Brave General,—for, though a rogue and bondman,

As you have said, I’ll still allow you General,

As he that beats a consul surely is.

Spart.Say two—two consuls; and to that e’en addA proconsul, three prætors, and some generals.

Spart.Say two—two consuls; and to that e’en add

A proconsul, three prætors, and some generals.

Jov.Why, this is no more than true. Are you a Thracian?

Spart.Ay.

Jov.There is something in the air of ThraceBreeds valor up as rank as grass. ’Tis pity.You are a barbarian.

Jov.There is something in the air of Thrace

Breeds valor up as rank as grass. ’Tis pity.

You are a barbarian.

Spart.Wherefore?

Jov.Had you been bornA Roman, you had won by this a triumph.

Jov.Had you been born

A Roman, you had won by this a triumph.

Spart.I thank the gods I am barbarian;For I can better teach the grace-begotAnd heaven-supported masters of the earthHow a mere dweller of a desert rockCan bow their crowned heads to his chariot-wheels,Their regal necks to be his stepping-blocks.But come, what is thy message?

Spart.I thank the gods I am barbarian;

For I can better teach the grace-begot

And heaven-supported masters of the earth

How a mere dweller of a desert rock

Can bow their crowned heads to his chariot-wheels,

Their regal necks to be his stepping-blocks.

But come, what is thy message?

Jov.Julia, nieceOf the prætor, is thy captive.

Jov.Julia, niece

Of the prætor, is thy captive.

Spart.Ay.

Jov.For whomIs offered in exchange thy wife, Senona,And thy young boy.

Jov.For whom

Is offered in exchange thy wife, Senona,

And thy young boy.

Spart.Tell thou the prætor, Roman,The Thracian’s wife is ransomed.

Spart.Tell thou the prætor, Roman,

The Thracian’s wife is ransomed.

Jov.How is that?

Spart.Ransomed, and by the steel, from out the campOf slaughtered Gellius! (Pointing off.) Behold them, Roman!

Spart.Ransomed, and by the steel, from out the camp

Of slaughtered Gellius! (Pointing off.) Behold them, Roman!

Jov.(Looking asSpart.points.) This is sorcery!But name a ransom for the general’s niece.

Jov.(Looking asSpart.points.) This is sorcery!

But name a ransom for the general’s niece.

Spart.Have I not now the prætor on the hip?He would, in his extremity, have madeMy wife his buckler of defence; perhapsHave doomed her to the scourge! But this is Roman.Now the barbarian is instructed. Look!I hold the prætor by the heart; and heShall feel how tightly grip barbarian fingers.

Spart.Have I not now the prætor on the hip?

He would, in his extremity, have made

My wife his buckler of defence; perhaps

Have doomed her to the scourge! But this is Roman.

Now the barbarian is instructed. Look!

I hold the prætor by the heart; and he

Shall feel how tightly grip barbarian fingers.

Jov.Men do not war on women. Name her ransom.

Spart.Men do not war on women! Look you:One day I climbed up to the ridgy topOf the cloud-piercing Hæmus, where, amongThe eagles and the thunders, from that height,I looked upon the world, as far as where,Wrestling with storms, the gloomy Euxine chafedOn his recoiling shores; and where dim AdriaIn her blue bosom quenched the fiery sphere.Between those surges lay a land, might onceHave matched Elysium; but Rome had made itA Tartarus. In my green youth I lookedFrom the same frosty peak where now I stood,And then beheld thegloryof those lands,Where Peace was tinkling on the shepherd’s bellAnd singing with the reapers.Since that glad day, Rome’s conquerors had passedWith withering armies there, and all was changed.Peace had departed; howling War was there,Cheered on by Roman hunters. Then, methoughtE’en as I looked upon the altered scene,Groans echoed through the valleys, through which ranRivers of blood, like smoking Phlegethons;Fires flashed from burning villages, and FamineShrieked in the empty cornfields! Women and children,Robbed of their sires and husbands, left to starve—These were the dwellers of the land! Say’st thouRome wars not, then, on women?

Spart.Men do not war on women! Look you:

One day I climbed up to the ridgy top

Of the cloud-piercing Hæmus, where, among

The eagles and the thunders, from that height,

I looked upon the world, as far as where,

Wrestling with storms, the gloomy Euxine chafed

On his recoiling shores; and where dim Adria

In her blue bosom quenched the fiery sphere.

Between those surges lay a land, might once

Have matched Elysium; but Rome had made it

A Tartarus. In my green youth I looked

From the same frosty peak where now I stood,

And then beheld thegloryof those lands,

Where Peace was tinkling on the shepherd’s bell

And singing with the reapers.

Since that glad day, Rome’s conquerors had passed

With withering armies there, and all was changed.

Peace had departed; howling War was there,

Cheered on by Roman hunters. Then, methought

E’en as I looked upon the altered scene,

Groans echoed through the valleys, through which ran

Rivers of blood, like smoking Phlegethons;

Fires flashed from burning villages, and Famine

Shrieked in the empty cornfields! Women and children,

Robbed of their sires and husbands, left to starve—

These were the dwellers of the land! Say’st thou

Rome wars not, then, on women?

Jov.This is not to the matter.

Spart.Now, by Jove,It is! These things do Romans. But the earthIs sick of conquerors. There is not a man,Not Roman, but is Rome’s extremest foe:And such am I; sworn from that hour I sawThose sights of horror, while the gods support me,To wreak on Rome such havoc as Rome wreaks,Carnage and devastation, woe and ruin.Why should I ransom, when I swear to slay?Begone! This is my answer!

Spart.Now, by Jove,

It is! These things do Romans. But the earth

Is sick of conquerors. There is not a man,

Not Roman, but is Rome’s extremest foe:

And such am I; sworn from that hour I saw

Those sights of horror, while the gods support me,

To wreak on Rome such havoc as Rome wreaks,

Carnage and devastation, woe and ruin.

Why should I ransom, when I swear to slay?

Begone! This is my answer!

Bird.

[6]L.signifiesleft;R.,right, andC.,centreof stage

(Regulus, a Roman consul, having been defeated in battle and taken prisoner by the Carthaginians, was detained in captivity five years, and then sent on an embassy to Rome to solicit peace, under a promise that he would return to Carthage if the proposals were rejected. These, it was thought, he would urge in order to obtain his own liberty; but he urged contrary and patriotic measures on his countrymen; and then, having carried his point, resisted the persuasions of his friends to remain in Rome, and returned to Carthage, where a martyr’s death awaited him. Some writers say that he was thrust into a cask covered over on the inside with iron spikes, and thus rolled down hill. The following scene presents Regulus just as he has made known to his friends in Rome his resolution to return to Carthage.)

EnterRegulus, followed bySertorius.

Sertorius.Stay, Roman, in pity!—if not for thy life,For the sake of thy country, thy children, thy wife.Sent, not to urge war, but to lead Rome to peace,Thy captors of Carthage vouchsafed thee release.Thou return’st to encounter their anger, their rage;—No mercy expect for thy fame or thy age!Regulus.To my captors one pledge, and one only, I gave:Toreturn, though it were to walk into my grave!No hope I extended, no promise I made,Rome’s Senate and people from war to dissuade.If the vengeance of Carthage be stored for me now,I have reaped no dishonor, have broken no vow.Sert.They released thee, but dreamed not that thou wouldst fulfilA part that would leave thee a prisoner still;They hoped thy own danger would lead thee to swayThe councils of Rome a far different way;Would induce thee to urge the conditions they crave,If only thy freedom, thy life-blood, to save.Thought shudders, the torment and woe to depictThy merciless foes have the heart to inflict!Remain with us, Regulus! do not go back!No hope sheds its ray on thy death-pointing track!Keep faith with the faithless? The gods will forgiveThe balking of such. O, live, Regulus, live!Reg.With the consciousness fixed in the core of my heart,That I had been playing the perjurer’s part?With the stain ever glaring, the thought ever nigh,That I owe the base breath I inhale to a lie?O, never! Let Carthage infract every oath,Be false to her word and humanity both,Yet never will I in her infamy share,Or turn for a refuge to guilt from despair!Sert.O, think of the kindred and friends who awaitTo fall on thy neck, and withhold thee from fate;O, think of the widow, the orphans to be,And let thy compassion plead softly with me.Reg.O, my friend, thou canst soften, but canst not subdue;To the faith of my soul I must ever be true.If my honor I cheapen, my conscience discrown,All the graces of life to the dust are brought down;All creation to me is a chaos once more—No heaven to hope for, no God to adore!And the love that I feel for wife, children, and friend,Has lost all its beauty, and thwarted its end.Sert.Let thy country determine.Reg.My country? Her will,Were I free to obey, would be paramount still.I go to my doom for my country alone;My life is my country’s; my honor, my own!Sert.O, Regulus! think of the pangs in reserve!Reg.What menace should make me from probity swerve?Sert.Refinements of pain will these miscreants findTo daunt and disable the loftiest mind.Reg.And ’tis to a Roman thy fears are addressed!Sert.Forgive me. I know thy unterrified breast.Reg.Thou know’st me but human—as weak to sustainAs thyself, or another, the searchings of pain.This flesh may recoil, and the anguish they wreakChase the strength from my knees, and the hue from my cheek;But the body alone they can vanquish and kill;The spirit immortal shall smile at them still.Then let them make ready their engines of dread,Their spike-bristling cask, and their torturing bed;Still Regulus, heaving no recreant breath,Shall greet as a friend the deliverer, Death!Their cunning in torture and taunt shall defy,And hold it in joy for his country to die.

Sertorius.Stay, Roman, in pity!—if not for thy life,

For the sake of thy country, thy children, thy wife.

Sent, not to urge war, but to lead Rome to peace,

Thy captors of Carthage vouchsafed thee release.

Thou return’st to encounter their anger, their rage;—

No mercy expect for thy fame or thy age!

Regulus.To my captors one pledge, and one only, I gave:Toreturn, though it were to walk into my grave!No hope I extended, no promise I made,Rome’s Senate and people from war to dissuade.If the vengeance of Carthage be stored for me now,I have reaped no dishonor, have broken no vow.

Regulus.To my captors one pledge, and one only, I gave:

Toreturn, though it were to walk into my grave!

No hope I extended, no promise I made,

Rome’s Senate and people from war to dissuade.

If the vengeance of Carthage be stored for me now,

I have reaped no dishonor, have broken no vow.

Sert.They released thee, but dreamed not that thou wouldst fulfilA part that would leave thee a prisoner still;They hoped thy own danger would lead thee to swayThe councils of Rome a far different way;Would induce thee to urge the conditions they crave,If only thy freedom, thy life-blood, to save.Thought shudders, the torment and woe to depictThy merciless foes have the heart to inflict!Remain with us, Regulus! do not go back!No hope sheds its ray on thy death-pointing track!Keep faith with the faithless? The gods will forgiveThe balking of such. O, live, Regulus, live!

Sert.They released thee, but dreamed not that thou wouldst fulfil

A part that would leave thee a prisoner still;

They hoped thy own danger would lead thee to sway

The councils of Rome a far different way;

Would induce thee to urge the conditions they crave,

If only thy freedom, thy life-blood, to save.

Thought shudders, the torment and woe to depict

Thy merciless foes have the heart to inflict!

Remain with us, Regulus! do not go back!

No hope sheds its ray on thy death-pointing track!

Keep faith with the faithless? The gods will forgive

The balking of such. O, live, Regulus, live!

Reg.With the consciousness fixed in the core of my heart,That I had been playing the perjurer’s part?With the stain ever glaring, the thought ever nigh,That I owe the base breath I inhale to a lie?O, never! Let Carthage infract every oath,Be false to her word and humanity both,Yet never will I in her infamy share,Or turn for a refuge to guilt from despair!

Reg.With the consciousness fixed in the core of my heart,

That I had been playing the perjurer’s part?

With the stain ever glaring, the thought ever nigh,

That I owe the base breath I inhale to a lie?

O, never! Let Carthage infract every oath,

Be false to her word and humanity both,

Yet never will I in her infamy share,

Or turn for a refuge to guilt from despair!

Sert.O, think of the kindred and friends who awaitTo fall on thy neck, and withhold thee from fate;O, think of the widow, the orphans to be,And let thy compassion plead softly with me.

Sert.O, think of the kindred and friends who await

To fall on thy neck, and withhold thee from fate;

O, think of the widow, the orphans to be,

And let thy compassion plead softly with me.

Reg.O, my friend, thou canst soften, but canst not subdue;To the faith of my soul I must ever be true.If my honor I cheapen, my conscience discrown,All the graces of life to the dust are brought down;All creation to me is a chaos once more—No heaven to hope for, no God to adore!And the love that I feel for wife, children, and friend,Has lost all its beauty, and thwarted its end.

Reg.O, my friend, thou canst soften, but canst not subdue;

To the faith of my soul I must ever be true.

If my honor I cheapen, my conscience discrown,

All the graces of life to the dust are brought down;

All creation to me is a chaos once more—

No heaven to hope for, no God to adore!

And the love that I feel for wife, children, and friend,

Has lost all its beauty, and thwarted its end.

Sert.Let thy country determine.

Reg.My country? Her will,Were I free to obey, would be paramount still.I go to my doom for my country alone;My life is my country’s; my honor, my own!

Reg.My country? Her will,

Were I free to obey, would be paramount still.

I go to my doom for my country alone;

My life is my country’s; my honor, my own!

Sert.O, Regulus! think of the pangs in reserve!

Reg.What menace should make me from probity swerve?

Sert.Refinements of pain will these miscreants findTo daunt and disable the loftiest mind.

Sert.Refinements of pain will these miscreants find

To daunt and disable the loftiest mind.

Reg.And ’tis to a Roman thy fears are addressed!

Sert.Forgive me. I know thy unterrified breast.

Reg.Thou know’st me but human—as weak to sustainAs thyself, or another, the searchings of pain.This flesh may recoil, and the anguish they wreakChase the strength from my knees, and the hue from my cheek;But the body alone they can vanquish and kill;The spirit immortal shall smile at them still.Then let them make ready their engines of dread,Their spike-bristling cask, and their torturing bed;Still Regulus, heaving no recreant breath,Shall greet as a friend the deliverer, Death!Their cunning in torture and taunt shall defy,And hold it in joy for his country to die.

Reg.Thou know’st me but human—as weak to sustain

As thyself, or another, the searchings of pain.

This flesh may recoil, and the anguish they wreak

Chase the strength from my knees, and the hue from my cheek;

But the body alone they can vanquish and kill;

The spirit immortal shall smile at them still.

Then let them make ready their engines of dread,

Their spike-bristling cask, and their torturing bed;

Still Regulus, heaving no recreant breath,

Shall greet as a friend the deliverer, Death!

Their cunning in torture and taunt shall defy,

And hold it in joy for his country to die.

(A temperance play.)

Scene I.(Mr. L.and his wife on the stage;Mr. L.dressed for his work, and about to go.)

Mrs. L.Albert, I wish you would give me seventy-five cents.

Mr. L.What do you want seventy-five cents for?

Mrs. L.I want to get some braid for my new dress.

Mr. L.I thought you had material enough on hand for that.

Mrs. L.So I thought I had; but it looks rather plain with no trimming at all. You know I was intending to trim it with that fringe; but it looks too gray, come to try it by the side of the dress.

Mr. L.Haven’t you something else that will do?

Mrs. L.No. But, then, braid is cheap; and I can make it look quite pretty with seventy-five cents.

Mr. L.Plague take these women’s fashions. Your endless trimmings and thing-a-ma-jigs cost more than the dress is worth. It is nothing but shell out money when a woman thinks of a new dress.

Mrs. L.I don’t have many new dresses. I do certainly try to be as economical as I can.

Mr. L.It is funny kind of economy, at all events. But if you must have it, I suppose you must.

(Takes out his purse, and counts out carefully seventy-five cents, and puts his purse away, angrily. He starts to go; but when at the door, he thinks he will take his umbrella, and goes back for it. Finds his wife in tears, which she tries hastily to conceal.)

Mr. L.Good gracious! Kate, I should like to know if you are crying at what I said about the dress.

Mrs. L.I was not crying at what you said, but you were so reluctant to grant the small favor! I was thinking how hard I have to work. I am tied to the house. I have many little things to perplex me. Then to think—

Mr. L.Pshaw! What do you want to be foolish for.

(Exit.)

(In the hall he was met by his little girl,Lizzie.)

Lizzie(holding both his hands). O, papa, give me fifteen cents.

Mr. L.What?

Lizzie.I want fifteen cents.Pleasegive me fifteen cents.

Mr. L.What in the world do you want it for? Are they changing books again?

Lizzie.No. I want a hoop. It’s splendid rolling; and all the girls have one. Mr. Grant has some real nice ones to sell.Please, can’t I have one?

Mr. L.Nonsense! If you want a hoop, go and get one off some old barrel. I can’t afford to buy hoops for you to trundle about the streets. (Throws her off.)

Lizzie(in a pleading tone). Please, papa?

Mr. L.No, I told you!

(She bursts into tears, and he goes off muttering, “Cry, then, and cry it out.”)

Scene II.(Albertenters, his wife entering on the opposite side. She kisses him as a greeting.)

Mrs. L.I am glad you are home thus early. How has business gone to-day?

Mr. L.Well, I am happy to say.

Mrs. L.Are you very tired?

Mr. L.No; why?

Mrs. L.I want you to go to the sewing circle to-night.

Mr. L.I can’t go; I have an engagement.

Mrs. L.I am sorry. You never go with me now. You used to go a great deal.

(Just thenLizziecomes in crying, dragging an old hoop, and rubbing her eyes.)

Mr. L.What is the matter with you, darling?

Lizzie.The girls have been laughing at me, and making fun of my hoop. They say mine is ugly and homely.

Mr. L.Never mind; perhaps we’ll have a new one some time.

Lizzie.Mayn’t I have one now? Mr. Grant has one left—a real pretty one.

Mr. L.Not now, Lizzie; not now. I’ll think of it.

(Lizziegoes out crying, followed by her mother. A friend ofMr. L.enters.)

Friend.Hello, Albert! What’s up?

Mr. L.Nothing in particular. Take a chair.

Friend.How’s business?

Mr. L.Good.

Friend.Did you go to the club last night?

Mr. L.Don’t speak so loud!

Friend.Ha! wife don’t know—does she? Where does she think you go?

Mr. L.I don’t know. She never asks me, and I am glad of it. She asked me to go with her to-night, and I told her I was engaged.

Friend.Good! I shan’t ask you where, but take it for granted that it was with me. What do you say for a game of billiards?

Mr. L.Good! I’m in for that. (They rise to go.) Have a cigar, Tom?

Friend.Yes. (They go out.)

Scene III.(Two men in conversation as they come upon the stage.)

B.Billiards? No, I never play billiards.

A.Why not?

B.I don’t like its tendency.

A.It is only a healthy pastime. I am sure it has no evil tendency.

B.I cannot assert that the game in its most innocent form is, of itself, an evil, to be sure. But, although it has the advantage of calling forth skill and judgment, yet it is evil when it excites and stimulates beyond the bounds of healthy recreation.

A.That result can scarcely follow such a game.

B.You are wrong there. The result can follow in two ways. First, it can lead men away from their business. Secondly, it leads those to spend money who have none to spend. Look at that young man just passing. He looks like a mechanic; and I should judge from his appearance that he has a family. I see by his face that he is kind and generous, and wants to do as near right as he can. I have watched him in the billiard saloon time after time, and only last night I saw him pay one dollar and forty cents for two hours’ recreation. He did it cheerfully, too, and smiled at his loss. But how do you suppose it is at home? Suppose his wife had asked him for a dollar or two for some household ornament, or his child, if he has one, for a picture-book or toy, what do you suppose he would have answered? This is not conjecture; for you and I both know plenty of such cases.

A.Upon my word, B., you speak to the point; for I know that young man, and what you have said is true. I can furnish you with facts. We have a club for a literary paper in our village, and last year he was one of the subscribers. This year he was obliged to discontinue. His wife was very anxious to take it; but he said he could not afford the $1.25 for it. And his little Lizzie, ten years old, has coaxed her father for fifteen cents, for a hoop, in vain. My Nellie told me that.

B.Yes; and that two hours’ recreation last night, would have paid for both. It is well for wives and children that they do not know where all the money goes.

Characters.

Scene.—A stage. Curtain rises, andFrank Claytoncomes forward and speaks.

Frank.Ladies and gentlemen: Our performances are now about to commence. We havespent some time in preparing for this exhibition, and we hope you will be pleased with all the performances that may be given. You well know that we have not had much practice in giving school exhibitions, and if you see any errors, we hope you will kindly forgive and overlook. We will endeavor to give our recitations correctly, and act our parts truthfully, and we ask you to—and we ask you to—and—and—and we ask that—that—

(EnterHarry Thompson. He comes in front ofFrankand commences to speak.)

“Did you ever hear of Jehosophat Boggs,A dealer and raiser of all sorts of dogs?No? Then I’ll endeavor in doggerel verseTo just the main points of the story rehearse.Boggs had a good wife—”

“Did you ever hear of Jehosophat Boggs,

A dealer and raiser of all sorts of dogs?

No? Then I’ll endeavor in doggerel verse

To just the main points of the story rehearse.

Boggs had a good wife—”

Frank.(Speaking in a loud whisper.) Harry, what did you come out here for? I’m not through with the introductory speech yet.

Harry.(Turns half way round, puts his hand to his mouth, as if to keep the audience from hearing, and speaks in a loud whisper.) I know you weren’t through, but you stuck, and I thought I had better come on. You know my recitation is second on the programme, and I didn’t want to have a bungle right at the commencement of the exhibition.

Frank.Go back to your place, you little rascal, and don’t interrupt me again. I’m going to speak my piece.

Harry.(With his hand up to hide his mouth as before.) Oh, you’re stuck and you’d better retire. (Turns to audience and continues to speak his piece.)

“Boggs had a good wife, the joy of his life,There was nothing between them inclining to strife.Except her dear J.’s dogmatic employment;And that, she averred, did mar her enjoyment.”

“Boggs had a good wife, the joy of his life,

There was nothing between them inclining to strife.

Except her dear J.’s dogmatic employment;

And that, she averred, did mar her enjoyment.”

Frank.(Whispering as before.) I say, Harry, get from before me and let me speak my piece.

Harry.(Turns, puts up his hand, and whispers as before.) Oh, you keep shady until I get through. (Turns to audience and speaks.)

“She often had begged him to sell off his dogs,And instead to raise turkeys, spring chickens or hogs.She made him half promise at no distant dayHe would sell the whole lot, not excepting old Tray;And as good luck would have it,—”

“She often had begged him to sell off his dogs,

And instead to raise turkeys, spring chickens or hogs.

She made him half promise at no distant day

He would sell the whole lot, not excepting old Tray;

And as good luck would have it,—”

Frank.(Turning Harry by the collar and pulling him back.) I tell you to get out of this until I have spoken my piece.

Harry.I won’t. Let me alone, I say. You have stuck fast, and do you want to spoil the exhibition? Didn’t you know enough to keep off the stage until I had spoken my piece?

Frank.(Still holding him by the collar.) It is you that are spoiling the exhibition. (Leads him off the stage.)

Harry.(Speaking loudly as he goes out.) I call this an outrage.

Frank.(Returning to his place and commencing to speak.) Ladies and gentlemen, my speech has been interrupted, and I will commence again. Our performances are now about to commence. We have spent some time in preparing for this exhibition, and we hope you will be pleased with all the performances that may be given. You know that we have not had much practice in giving school exhibitions, and if you see any errors, we hope you will kindly forgive and overlook. We will endeavor to give our recitations correctly, and act our parts truthfully, and we ask you to—to—and we ask you to—and act our parts truthfully, and we ask you to—and we ask you to—(In a lower tone.) I’ve forgotten it again; isn’t that too bad? (Speaking as before.) And we ask you to—to—to—

(EnterTommy Watkins. He comes in front ofFrank, and commences to speak “The Ghost.”)

“’Tis about twenty years since Abel Law,A short, round, favored merryOld soldier of the Revolutionary War,Was wedded to a most abominable shrew.The temper, sir, of Shakespeare’s CatharineCould no more be compared with hersThan mineWith Lucifer’s.”

“’Tis about twenty years since Abel Law,

A short, round, favored merry

Old soldier of the Revolutionary War,

Was wedded to a most abominable shrew.

The temper, sir, of Shakespeare’s Catharine

Could no more be compared with hers

Than mine

With Lucifer’s.”

Frank.(In a loud whisper.) Tommy Watkins, get from before me. Don’t you see I’m speaking? I don’t want to be interrupted—I want to finish my speech.

Tommy.(Facing the audience and speaking in the same tone as when reciting his speech.) Oh, you’d better quit! You’ve stuck twice now, and if you don’t go off the stage the audience will become disgusted.

Sammy Long.(Seated in the audience.) The people are disgusted now with that boy’s opening speech. He’d better go home, memorize it, and speak it some time next year.

Tommy.There! You hear what they say out there in the audience. They are disgusted, and they think you had better leave the stage.

Frank.Oh, that’s nobody but Sammy Long, and he is displeased because we didn’t invite him to take part in the exhibition.

Tommy.Well, I’ll go ahead and speak my piece while you are trying to think up the words you have forgotten.

Her eyes were like a weasel’s; she had a harshFace, like a cranberry marsh,All spread with spots of white and red;Hair of the color of a wisp of straw,And a disposition like a cross-cut saw.The appellation of this lovely dameWas Nancy; don’t forget the name.

Her eyes were like a weasel’s; she had a harsh

Face, like a cranberry marsh,

All spread with spots of white and red;

Hair of the color of a wisp of straw,

And a disposition like a cross-cut saw.

The appellation of this lovely dame

Was Nancy; don’t forget the name.

Frank.Stop, Tommy; I can finish my speech now.

Tommy.So can I. (Continues his recitation.)

His brother David was a tall,Good-looking chap, and that was all,One of your great big nothings, as they sayOut in Rhode Island, picking up old jokes,And cracking them on other folks.Well, David undertook one night to playThe Ghost, and frighten Abel, who,He knew,Would be returning from a journey throughA grove of forest woodThat stoodBelowThe house some distance—half a mile or so.With a long taperCap of white paper,Just made to coverA wig, nearly as large overAs a corn-basket, and a sheetWith both ends made to meetAcross his breast(The way in which ghosts are always dressed),He tookHis station nearA huge oak-tree,Whence he could overlookThe road and seeWhatever might appear.It happened that about an hour before, friend AbelHad left the tableOf an inn, where he had made a halt,With horse and wagon,To taste a flagonOf maltLiquor, and so forth, which, being done,He went on,Caring no more for twenty ghostsThan if they had been so many posts.David was nearly tired of waiting;His patience was abating;At length, he heard the careless tonesOf his kinsman’s voice,And then the noiseOf wagon-wheels among the stones.Abel was quite elated, and was roaringWith all his might, and pouringOut, in great confusion,Scraps of old songs made in “the Revolution.”His head was full of Bunker Hill and Trenton;And jovially he went on.Scaring the whip-po’-wills among the treesWith rhymes like these:(Sings. Air, “Yankee Doodle.”)“See the YankeesLeave the hill,With baggernetts declining,With lopped-down hatsAnd rusty guns,And leather aprons shining.”“‘See the Yankees’—Whoa! Why, what is that?”Said Abel, staring like a cat,As, slowly, on the fearful figure strodeInto the middle of the road.“My conscience! what a suit of clothes!Some crazy fellow, I suppose.Hallo! friend, what’s your name? by the powers of gin,That’s a strange dress to travel in.”“Be silent, Abel; for I now have comeTo read your doom;Then hearken, while your fate I now declare.I am a spirit—” “I suppose you are;But you’ll not hurt me, and I’ll tell you why:Here is a fact which you cannot deny;—All spirits must be either goodOr bad—that’s understood—And be you good or evil, I am sureThat I’m secure.If a good spirit, I am safe. If evil—And I don’t know but you may be the devil—If that’s the case, you’ll recollect, I fancy,That I am married to your sister Nancy!”

His brother David was a tall,

Good-looking chap, and that was all,

One of your great big nothings, as they say

Out in Rhode Island, picking up old jokes,

And cracking them on other folks.

Well, David undertook one night to play

The Ghost, and frighten Abel, who,

He knew,

Would be returning from a journey through

A grove of forest wood

That stood

Below

The house some distance—half a mile or so.

With a long taperCap of white paper,Just made to coverA wig, nearly as large overAs a corn-basket, and a sheetWith both ends made to meetAcross his breast(The way in which ghosts are always dressed),He tookHis station nearA huge oak-tree,Whence he could overlookThe road and seeWhatever might appear.

With a long taper

Cap of white paper,

Just made to cover

A wig, nearly as large over

As a corn-basket, and a sheet

With both ends made to meet

Across his breast

(The way in which ghosts are always dressed),

He took

His station near

A huge oak-tree,

Whence he could overlook

The road and see

Whatever might appear.

It happened that about an hour before, friend AbelHad left the tableOf an inn, where he had made a halt,With horse and wagon,To taste a flagonOf maltLiquor, and so forth, which, being done,He went on,Caring no more for twenty ghostsThan if they had been so many posts.

It happened that about an hour before, friend Abel

Had left the table

Of an inn, where he had made a halt,

With horse and wagon,

To taste a flagon

Of malt

Liquor, and so forth, which, being done,

He went on,

Caring no more for twenty ghosts

Than if they had been so many posts.

David was nearly tired of waiting;His patience was abating;At length, he heard the careless tonesOf his kinsman’s voice,And then the noiseOf wagon-wheels among the stones.Abel was quite elated, and was roaringWith all his might, and pouringOut, in great confusion,Scraps of old songs made in “the Revolution.”

David was nearly tired of waiting;

His patience was abating;

At length, he heard the careless tones

Of his kinsman’s voice,

And then the noise

Of wagon-wheels among the stones.

Abel was quite elated, and was roaring

With all his might, and pouring

Out, in great confusion,

Scraps of old songs made in “the Revolution.”

His head was full of Bunker Hill and Trenton;And jovially he went on.Scaring the whip-po’-wills among the treesWith rhymes like these:

His head was full of Bunker Hill and Trenton;

And jovially he went on.

Scaring the whip-po’-wills among the trees

With rhymes like these:

(Sings. Air, “Yankee Doodle.”)

“See the YankeesLeave the hill,With baggernetts declining,With lopped-down hatsAnd rusty guns,And leather aprons shining.”

“See the Yankees

Leave the hill,

With baggernetts declining,

With lopped-down hats

And rusty guns,

And leather aprons shining.”

“‘See the Yankees’—Whoa! Why, what is that?”Said Abel, staring like a cat,As, slowly, on the fearful figure strodeInto the middle of the road.

“‘See the Yankees’—Whoa! Why, what is that?”

Said Abel, staring like a cat,

As, slowly, on the fearful figure strode

Into the middle of the road.

“My conscience! what a suit of clothes!Some crazy fellow, I suppose.Hallo! friend, what’s your name? by the powers of gin,That’s a strange dress to travel in.”“Be silent, Abel; for I now have comeTo read your doom;Then hearken, while your fate I now declare.I am a spirit—” “I suppose you are;But you’ll not hurt me, and I’ll tell you why:Here is a fact which you cannot deny;—All spirits must be either goodOr bad—that’s understood—And be you good or evil, I am sureThat I’m secure.If a good spirit, I am safe. If evil—And I don’t know but you may be the devil—If that’s the case, you’ll recollect, I fancy,That I am married to your sister Nancy!”

“My conscience! what a suit of clothes!

Some crazy fellow, I suppose.

Hallo! friend, what’s your name? by the powers of gin,

That’s a strange dress to travel in.”

“Be silent, Abel; for I now have come

To read your doom;

Then hearken, while your fate I now declare.

I am a spirit—” “I suppose you are;

But you’ll not hurt me, and I’ll tell you why:

Here is a fact which you cannot deny;—

All spirits must be either good

Or bad—that’s understood—

And be you good or evil, I am sure

That I’m secure.

If a good spirit, I am safe. If evil—

And I don’t know but you may be the devil—

If that’s the case, you’ll recollect, I fancy,

That I am married to your sister Nancy!”

(Bows and turns to go off. ToFrank.) Now, Frank, you can go ahead again until you come to the sticking place. I hope that, during the time I have generously given you by speaking my piece, you have been collecting your scattered senses, and will now be able to finish what you began.

(ExitTommy.)

Frank.Ladies and gentlemen, I am not at all pleased with this way of doing business. I think these boys have not treated me with proper respect. I was selected to give the opening or introductory address, and you see how it has been done.

Sammy.(In the audience.) We didn’t see very much of it. Don’t you think it would be well enough for you to retire and memorize your speech?

Frank.You boys out there had better keep silent and not create a disturbance. There is an officer in the house.

(EnterWillie Brown. He comes beforeFrankand commences to speak.)

“’Twas night! The stars were shrouded in a veil of mist; a clouded canopy o’erhung the world; the vivid lightnings flashed and shook their fiery darts upon the earth—”

Frank.(Speaking out.) I say, Willie Brown, what did you come here for? I haven’t finished the opening speech yet.

Willie.What’s the use of having an opening speech now? The exhibition is half over. (Continues his speech.)

“The deep-toned thunder rolled along the vaulted sky; the elements were in wild commotion; the storm-spirit howled in the air; the winds whistled; the hail-stones fell like leaden balls; the huge undulations of the ocean dashed upon the rock-bound shore; and torrents leaped from mountain tops; when the murderer sprang from his sleepless couch with vengeance on his brow—murder in his heart—and the fell instrument of destruction in his hand.”

Frank.Stop, I say. What kind of an exhibition will this be without an introductory speech? Stop, I say. We will be the laughing-stock of the country if we don’t open our exhibition with an introductory speech.

Johnny.(In the audience.) Oh, nobody cares for the introductory speech. Let the speech go and give us some dialogues and songs.

Willie.No dialogues and songs until I have finished my speech. This is my place on the programme. (Continues his speech.Frankcomes and stands near him and they both speak at the same time,Williegiving the concluding portion of his speech andFrankcommencing at thefirst of his Opening Speech and going as far as he had gone before.Willieshould finish just beforeFrankcommences to stammer.)

“The storm increased; the lightnings flashed with brighter glare; the thunder growled with deeper energy; the winds whistled with a wilder fury; the confusion of the hour was congenial to his soul, and the stormy passions which raged in his bosom. He clenched his weapon with a sterner grasp. A demoniac smile gathered on his lip; he grated his teeth; raised his arm; sprang with a yell of triumph upon his victim, and relentlessly killed—amosquito!” (Bows and turns to go off. ToFrank.) Stuck again, my boy? If we had waited for the opening speech we would not have got our exhibition opened for a week or ten days.

(ExitWillie.)

Johnny.(In the audience.) Well, we haven’t had that introductory speech yet, and I guess we are not going to get it. That was the queerest kind of speech I ever heard. It began, and then balked, and then kicked up, and then braced its feet in front, and finally stopped altogether. I think we would have done better if we had started without any introduction, just as grandpa said the other day he thought Parson Goodwin ought to have begun his sermon at the conclusion and left out all that went before it.

Frank.(Excitedly.) Hold on there! You say we don’t need any speech and yet you are making a long one yourself. You said that I hitched like a balky horse, but you have kicked up your heels and cantered off as if somebody had touched off a pack of fire-crackers under you.

(EnterHarry Thompson. He comes forward and speaks.)

Our parts are performed and our speeches are ended,We are monarchs and courtiers and heroes no more;To a much humbler station again we’ve descended,And are now but the school-boys you’ve known us before.Farewell then our greatness—’tis gone like a dream,’Tis gone—but remembrance will often retraceThe indulgent applause which rewarded each theme,And the heart-cheering smiles that enlivened each face.We thank you! Our gratitude words cannot tell,But deeply we feel it—to you it belongs;With heartfelt emotion we bid you farewell,And our feelings now thank you much more than our tongues.We will strive to improve, since applauses thus cheer us,That our juvenile efforts may gain your kind looks;And we hope to convince you, the next time you hear us,That praise has but sharpened our relish for books.

Our parts are performed and our speeches are ended,

We are monarchs and courtiers and heroes no more;

To a much humbler station again we’ve descended,

And are now but the school-boys you’ve known us before.

Farewell then our greatness—’tis gone like a dream,’Tis gone—but remembrance will often retraceThe indulgent applause which rewarded each theme,And the heart-cheering smiles that enlivened each face.

Farewell then our greatness—’tis gone like a dream,

’Tis gone—but remembrance will often retrace

The indulgent applause which rewarded each theme,

And the heart-cheering smiles that enlivened each face.

We thank you! Our gratitude words cannot tell,But deeply we feel it—to you it belongs;With heartfelt emotion we bid you farewell,And our feelings now thank you much more than our tongues.

We thank you! Our gratitude words cannot tell,

But deeply we feel it—to you it belongs;

With heartfelt emotion we bid you farewell,

And our feelings now thank you much more than our tongues.

We will strive to improve, since applauses thus cheer us,That our juvenile efforts may gain your kind looks;And we hope to convince you, the next time you hear us,That praise has but sharpened our relish for books.

We will strive to improve, since applauses thus cheer us,

That our juvenile efforts may gain your kind looks;

And we hope to convince you, the next time you hear us,

That praise has but sharpened our relish for books.

(Bows and turns to go off.) I have spoken the valedictory, and the exhibition is over. Ring down the curtain.

Frank.(Excitedly.) Stop! Hold! Don’t! I haven’t finished my speech yet.

Johnny.(In the audience.) You’ve given us enough for the present. You can finish it out next Christmas.

Harry.Ring down the curtain.

Frank.Stop! Don’t! Don’t! I want to speak my piece. (A bell is rung and the curtain falls.)

Frank.(Drawing the curtain aside and looking out.) Here’s a go! How are we going to get along without an Opening Speech? (Disappears.)

[Curtain.]

Characters.

Costumes.

(A noted Greek sculptor, Pygmalion, makes a most beautiful statue of woman. Having attained perfection of form he longs to breathe life into his work, and blames the gods that they have limited his power. He stands on the stage, to the left, looking thoughtfully up as if imploring the gods. While apparently uttering his complaints, Galatea, coming to life, calls to him from behind the curtain.)

Galatea(from behind curtain, C.[7]). Pygmalion!Pygmalion(after a pause). Who called?Gal.Pygmalion!(Pygmaliontears away curtain and discoversGalateaalive.)Pyg.Ye gods! It lives!Gal.Pygmalion.Pyg.It speaks!I have my prayer! my Galatea breathes!Gal.Where am I? Let me speak, Pygmalion;Give me thy hand—both hands—how soft and warm!Whence came I? (Descends.)Pyg.Why, from yonder pedestal.Gal.That pedestal! Ah, yes, I recollect,There was a time when it was part of me.Pyg.That time has passed forever, thou art nowA living, breathing woman, excellentIn every attribute of womankind.Gal.Where am I, then?Pyg.Why, born into the worldBy miracle.Gal.Is this the world?Pyg.It is.Gal.This room?Pyg.This room is a portion of a house;The house stands in a grove; the grove itselfIs one of many, many hundred grovesIn Athens.Gal.And is Athens, then, the world?Pyg.To an Athenian—yes—Gal.And I am one?Pyg.By birth and parentage, not by descent.Gal.But how came I to be?Pyg.Well, let me seeOh! you were quarried in Pentelicus;I modelled you in clay; my artisansThen roughed you out in marble; I, in turn,Brought my artistic skill to bear on you,And made you what you are, in all but life.The gods completed what I had begun,And gave the only gift I could not give.Gal.Then this is life?Pyg.It is.Gal.And not long sinceI was a cold, dull stone. I recollectThat by some means I knew that I was stone,That was the first dull gleam of consciousness;I became conscious of a chilly self,A cold immovable identity.I knew that I was stone, and knew no more;Then by an imperceptible advance,Came the dim evidence of outer things,Seen, darkly and imperfectly, yet seen;The walls surrounded me, and I alone.That pedestal—that curtain—then a voiceThat called on Galatea! At that word,Which seemed to shake my marble to the core.That which was dim before, came evident.Sounds that had hummed around me, indistinct,Vague, meaningless—seemed to resolve themselvesInto a language I could understand;I felt my frame pervaded with a glowThat seemed to thaw my marble into flesh;Its cold, hard substance throbbed with active life,My limbs grew supple, and I moved—I lived!Lived in the ecstasy of new born life;Lived in the love of him that fashioned me;Lived in a thousand tangled thoughts of hope,Love, gratitude, thoughts that resolved themselvesInto one word, that word, Pygmalion!(Kneels to him.)Pyg.I have no words to tell thee of my joy,O woman—perfect in thy loveliness.Gal.What is that word? Am I a woman?Pyg.Yes.Gal.Art thou a woman?Pyg.No, I am a man!Gal.What is a man?Pyg.A being strongly framed,To wait on woman, and protect her fromAll ills that strength and courage can avert;To work and toil for her, that she may rest;To weep and mourn for her, that she may laugh;To fight and die for her, that she may live!Gal.(after a pause). I’m glad I am a woman.(Takes his hand—he leads her down, L.)Pyg.So am I. (They sit.)Gal.That I escape the pains thou hast to bear?Pyg.That I may undergo those pains for thee.Gal.With whom wouldst thou fight?Pyg.With any manWhose word or deed gave Galatea pain.Gal.Then there are other men in this strange world?Pyg.There are, indeed?Gal.And other women?Pyg.(taken aback).Yes;Though for the moment I’d forgotten it!Yes, other women.Gal.And for all of theseMen work, and toil, and mourn, and weep, and fight?Pyg.It is man’s duty, if he’s called upon,To fight for all—he works for those he loves.Gal.Then by thy works I know thou lovest me?Pyg.Indeed, I love thee. (Embraces her.)Gal.What kind of love?Pyg.I love thee (recollecting himself and releasing her) as a sculptor loves his work!(Aside.) There is diplomacy in that reply.Gal.My love is different in kind to thine:I am no sculptor, and I’ve done no work,Yet I do love thee; say—what love is mine?Pyg.Tell me its symptoms, then I’ll answer thee.Gal.Its symptoms? Let me call them as they come.A sense that I am made by thee for thee.That I’ve no will that is not wholly thine,That I’ve no thought, no hope, no enterprise,That does not own thee as its sovereign;That I have life that I may live for thee,That I am thine—that thou and I are one!What kind of love is that?Pyg.A kind of loveThat I shall run some risk in dealing with.Gal.And why, Pygmalion?Pyg.Such love as thineA man may not receive, except, indeed,From one who is, or is to be, his wife.Gal.Then I will be thy wife.Pyg.That may not be;I have a wife—the gods allow but one.Gal.Why did the gods then send me here to thee?Pyg.I cannot say—unless to punish me (Rises.)For unreflecting and presumptuous prayer!I pray’d that thou shouldst live. I have my prayer,And now I see the fearful consequenceThat must attend it!Gal.Yet thou lovest me? (Rises.)Pyg.Who could look on that face and stifle love?Gal.Then I am beautiful?Pyg.Indeed thou art.Gal.I wish that I could look upon myself,But that’s impossible.Pyg.Not so, indeed, (Crosses, R.)This mirror will reflect thy face. Behold!(Hands her a mirror from table, R. C.)Gal.How beautiful! I am very glad to knowThat both our tastes agree so perfectly;Why, my Pygmalion, I did not thinkThat aught could be more beautiful than thou,Till I behold myself. Believe me, love,I could look in this mirror all day long.So I’m a woman.Pyg.There’s no doubt of that!Gal.Oh! happy maid, to be so passing fair!And happier still Pygmalion, who can gazeAt will upon so beautiful a face!Pyg.Hush! Galatea—in thine innocence(Taking glass from her.)Thou sayest things that others would reprove.Gal.Indeed, Pygmalion; then it is wrongTo think that one is exquisitely fair?Pyg.Well, Galatea, it’s a sentimentThat every other woman shares with thee;They think it—but they keep it to themselves.Gal.And is thy wife as beautiful as I?Pyg.No, Galatea; for in forming theeI took her features—lovely in themselves—And in marble made them lovelier still.Gal.(disappointed). Oh! then I am not original?Pyg.Well—no—That is, thou hast indeed a prototype,But though in stone thou didst resemble her,In life, the difference is manifest.Gal.I’m very glad that I am lovelier than she.And am I better? (Sits, L.)Pyg.That I do not know.Gal.Then she has faults.Pyg.Very few, indeed;Mere trivial blemishes, that serve to showThat she and I are of one common kin.I love her all the better for such faults.Gal.(after a pause). Tell me some faults and I’ll commit them now.Pyg.There is no hurry; they will come in time: (Sits beside her, L.)Though for that matter, it’s a grievous sinTo sit as lovingly as we sit now.Gal.Is sin so pleasant? If to sit and talkAs we are sitting, be indeed a sin,Why I could sin all day. But tell me, love,Is this great fault that I’m committing now,The kind of fault that only serves to showThat thou and I are of one common kin?Pyg.Indeed, I am very much afraid it is.Gal.And dost thou love me better for such fault?Pyg.Where is the mortal that could answer “no?”Gal.Why then I’m satisfied, Pygmalion;Thy wife and I can start on equal terms.She loves thee?Pyg.Very much.Gal.I’m glad of that.I like thy wife.Pyg.And why?Gal.(surprised at the question). Our tastes agreeWe love Pygmalion well, and what is more,Pygmalion loves us both. I like thy wife;I’m sure we shall agree.Pyg.(aside).I doubt it much.Gal.Is she within?Pyg.No, she is not within.Gal.But she’ll come back?Pyg.Oh! yes, she will come back.Gal.How pleased she’ll be to know when she returns,That there was someone here to fill her place.Pyg.(dryly). Yes, I should say she’d be extremely pleased. (Rises.)Gal.Why, there is something in thy voice which saysThat thou art jesting. Is it possibleTo say one thing and mean another?Pyg.Yes,It’s sometimes done.Gal.How very wonderful!So clever!Pyg.And so very useful.Gal.Yes.Teach me the art.Pyg.The art will come in time.My wife will not be pleased; there—that’s the truth.Gal., I do not think that I shall like thy wife.Tell me more of her.Pyg.Well—Gal.What did she sayWhen she last left thee?Pyg.Humph! Well, let me see:Oh! true, she gave thee to me as my wife—Her solitary representative;(Tenderly) She feared I should be lonely till she came,And counselled me, if thoughts of love should come,To speak those thoughts to thee, as I am wontTo speak to her.Gal.That’s right.Pyg.(releasing her).But when she spokeThou wast a stone, now thou art flesh and blood,Which makes a difference.Gal.It’s a strange world;A woman loves her husband very much,And cannot brook that I should love him too;She fears he will be lonely till she comes,And will not let me cheer his loneliness:She bids him breathe his love to senseless stone,And when that stone is brought to life—be dumb!It’s a strange world, I cannot fathom it.(Crosses, R.)Pyg.(aside). Let me be brave, and put an end to this.(Aloud.) Come, Galatea—till my wife returns,My sister shall provide thee with a home;Her house is close at hand.Gal.(astonished and alarmed). Send me not hence,Pygmalion—let me stay.Pyg.It may not be.Come, Galatea, we shall meet again.Gal.(resignedly). Do with me as thou wilt, Pygmalion!But we shall meet again?—and very soon?Pyg.Yes, very soon.Gal.And when thy wife returns,She’ll let me stay with thee?Pyg.I do not know.(Aside.) Why should I hide the truth from her?(Aloud.) Alas!I may not see thee then.Gal.Pygmalion,What fearful words are these?Pyg.The bitter truth.I may not love thee; I must send thee hence.Gal.Recall those words, Pygmalion, my love!Was it for this that Heaven gave me life?Pygmalion, have mercy on me; seeI am thy work, thou hast created me;The gods have sent me to thee. I am thine,Thine! only and unalterably thine! (Music.)This is the thought with which my soul is charged.Thou tellest me of one who claims thy love,That thou hast love for her alone! Alas!I do not know these things; I only knowThat Heaven has sent me here to be with thee.Thou tellest me of duty to thy wife,Of vows that thou wilt love but her; alas!I do not know these things; I only knowThat Heaven, who sent me here, has given meOne all-absorbing duty to discharge—To love thee, and to make thee love again!

Galatea(from behind curtain, C.[7]). Pygmalion!

Pygmalion(after a pause). Who called?

Gal.Pygmalion!

(Pygmaliontears away curtain and discoversGalateaalive.)

Pyg.Ye gods! It lives!

Gal.Pygmalion.

Pyg.It speaks!I have my prayer! my Galatea breathes!

Pyg.It speaks!

I have my prayer! my Galatea breathes!

Gal.Where am I? Let me speak, Pygmalion;Give me thy hand—both hands—how soft and warm!Whence came I? (Descends.)

Gal.Where am I? Let me speak, Pygmalion;

Give me thy hand—both hands—how soft and warm!

Whence came I? (Descends.)

Pyg.Why, from yonder pedestal.

Gal.That pedestal! Ah, yes, I recollect,There was a time when it was part of me.

Gal.That pedestal! Ah, yes, I recollect,

There was a time when it was part of me.

Pyg.That time has passed forever, thou art nowA living, breathing woman, excellentIn every attribute of womankind.

Pyg.That time has passed forever, thou art now

A living, breathing woman, excellent

In every attribute of womankind.

Gal.Where am I, then?

Pyg.Why, born into the worldBy miracle.

Pyg.Why, born into the world

By miracle.

Gal.Is this the world?

Pyg.It is.

Gal.This room?

Pyg.This room is a portion of a house;The house stands in a grove; the grove itselfIs one of many, many hundred grovesIn Athens.

Pyg.This room is a portion of a house;

The house stands in a grove; the grove itself

Is one of many, many hundred groves

In Athens.

Gal.And is Athens, then, the world?

Pyg.To an Athenian—yes—

Gal.And I am one?

Pyg.By birth and parentage, not by descent.

Gal.But how came I to be?

Pyg.Well, let me seeOh! you were quarried in Pentelicus;I modelled you in clay; my artisansThen roughed you out in marble; I, in turn,Brought my artistic skill to bear on you,And made you what you are, in all but life.The gods completed what I had begun,And gave the only gift I could not give.

Pyg.Well, let me see

Oh! you were quarried in Pentelicus;

I modelled you in clay; my artisans

Then roughed you out in marble; I, in turn,

Brought my artistic skill to bear on you,

And made you what you are, in all but life.

The gods completed what I had begun,

And gave the only gift I could not give.

Gal.Then this is life?

Pyg.It is.

Gal.And not long sinceI was a cold, dull stone. I recollectThat by some means I knew that I was stone,That was the first dull gleam of consciousness;I became conscious of a chilly self,A cold immovable identity.I knew that I was stone, and knew no more;Then by an imperceptible advance,Came the dim evidence of outer things,Seen, darkly and imperfectly, yet seen;The walls surrounded me, and I alone.That pedestal—that curtain—then a voiceThat called on Galatea! At that word,Which seemed to shake my marble to the core.That which was dim before, came evident.Sounds that had hummed around me, indistinct,Vague, meaningless—seemed to resolve themselvesInto a language I could understand;I felt my frame pervaded with a glowThat seemed to thaw my marble into flesh;Its cold, hard substance throbbed with active life,My limbs grew supple, and I moved—I lived!Lived in the ecstasy of new born life;Lived in the love of him that fashioned me;Lived in a thousand tangled thoughts of hope,Love, gratitude, thoughts that resolved themselvesInto one word, that word, Pygmalion!

Gal.And not long since

I was a cold, dull stone. I recollect

That by some means I knew that I was stone,

That was the first dull gleam of consciousness;

I became conscious of a chilly self,

A cold immovable identity.

I knew that I was stone, and knew no more;

Then by an imperceptible advance,

Came the dim evidence of outer things,

Seen, darkly and imperfectly, yet seen;

The walls surrounded me, and I alone.

That pedestal—that curtain—then a voice

That called on Galatea! At that word,

Which seemed to shake my marble to the core.

That which was dim before, came evident.

Sounds that had hummed around me, indistinct,

Vague, meaningless—seemed to resolve themselves

Into a language I could understand;

I felt my frame pervaded with a glow

That seemed to thaw my marble into flesh;

Its cold, hard substance throbbed with active life,

My limbs grew supple, and I moved—I lived!

Lived in the ecstasy of new born life;

Lived in the love of him that fashioned me;

Lived in a thousand tangled thoughts of hope,

Love, gratitude, thoughts that resolved themselves

Into one word, that word, Pygmalion!

(Kneels to him.)

Pyg.I have no words to tell thee of my joy,O woman—perfect in thy loveliness.

Pyg.I have no words to tell thee of my joy,

O woman—perfect in thy loveliness.

Gal.What is that word? Am I a woman?

Pyg.Yes.

Gal.Art thou a woman?

Pyg.No, I am a man!

Gal.What is a man?

Pyg.A being strongly framed,To wait on woman, and protect her fromAll ills that strength and courage can avert;To work and toil for her, that she may rest;To weep and mourn for her, that she may laugh;To fight and die for her, that she may live!

Pyg.A being strongly framed,

To wait on woman, and protect her from

All ills that strength and courage can avert;

To work and toil for her, that she may rest;

To weep and mourn for her, that she may laugh;

To fight and die for her, that she may live!

Gal.(after a pause). I’m glad I am a woman.

(Takes his hand—he leads her down, L.)

Pyg.So am I. (They sit.)

Gal.That I escape the pains thou hast to bear?

Pyg.That I may undergo those pains for thee.

Gal.With whom wouldst thou fight?

Pyg.With any manWhose word or deed gave Galatea pain.

Pyg.With any man

Whose word or deed gave Galatea pain.

Gal.Then there are other men in this strange world?

Pyg.There are, indeed?

Gal.And other women?

Pyg.(taken aback).Yes;Though for the moment I’d forgotten it!Yes, other women.

Pyg.(taken aback).Yes;

Though for the moment I’d forgotten it!

Yes, other women.

Gal.And for all of theseMen work, and toil, and mourn, and weep, and fight?

Gal.And for all of these

Men work, and toil, and mourn, and weep, and fight?

Pyg.It is man’s duty, if he’s called upon,To fight for all—he works for those he loves.

Pyg.It is man’s duty, if he’s called upon,

To fight for all—he works for those he loves.

Gal.Then by thy works I know thou lovest me?

Pyg.Indeed, I love thee. (Embraces her.)

Gal.What kind of love?

Pyg.I love thee (recollecting himself and releasing her) as a sculptor loves his work!(Aside.) There is diplomacy in that reply.

Pyg.I love thee (recollecting himself and releasing her) as a sculptor loves his work!

(Aside.) There is diplomacy in that reply.

Gal.My love is different in kind to thine:I am no sculptor, and I’ve done no work,Yet I do love thee; say—what love is mine?

Gal.My love is different in kind to thine:

I am no sculptor, and I’ve done no work,

Yet I do love thee; say—what love is mine?

Pyg.Tell me its symptoms, then I’ll answer thee.

Gal.Its symptoms? Let me call them as they come.A sense that I am made by thee for thee.That I’ve no will that is not wholly thine,That I’ve no thought, no hope, no enterprise,That does not own thee as its sovereign;That I have life that I may live for thee,That I am thine—that thou and I are one!What kind of love is that?

Gal.Its symptoms? Let me call them as they come.

A sense that I am made by thee for thee.

That I’ve no will that is not wholly thine,

That I’ve no thought, no hope, no enterprise,

That does not own thee as its sovereign;

That I have life that I may live for thee,

That I am thine—that thou and I are one!

What kind of love is that?

Pyg.A kind of loveThat I shall run some risk in dealing with.

Pyg.A kind of love

That I shall run some risk in dealing with.

Gal.And why, Pygmalion?

Pyg.Such love as thineA man may not receive, except, indeed,From one who is, or is to be, his wife.

Pyg.Such love as thine

A man may not receive, except, indeed,

From one who is, or is to be, his wife.

Gal.Then I will be thy wife.

Pyg.That may not be;I have a wife—the gods allow but one.

Pyg.That may not be;

I have a wife—the gods allow but one.

Gal.Why did the gods then send me here to thee?

Pyg.I cannot say—unless to punish me (Rises.)For unreflecting and presumptuous prayer!I pray’d that thou shouldst live. I have my prayer,And now I see the fearful consequenceThat must attend it!

Pyg.I cannot say—unless to punish me (Rises.)

For unreflecting and presumptuous prayer!

I pray’d that thou shouldst live. I have my prayer,

And now I see the fearful consequence

That must attend it!

Gal.Yet thou lovest me? (Rises.)

Pyg.Who could look on that face and stifle love?

Gal.Then I am beautiful?

Pyg.Indeed thou art.

Gal.I wish that I could look upon myself,But that’s impossible.

Gal.I wish that I could look upon myself,

But that’s impossible.

Pyg.Not so, indeed, (Crosses, R.)This mirror will reflect thy face. Behold!

Pyg.Not so, indeed, (Crosses, R.)

This mirror will reflect thy face. Behold!

(Hands her a mirror from table, R. C.)

Gal.How beautiful! I am very glad to knowThat both our tastes agree so perfectly;Why, my Pygmalion, I did not thinkThat aught could be more beautiful than thou,Till I behold myself. Believe me, love,I could look in this mirror all day long.So I’m a woman.

Gal.How beautiful! I am very glad to know

That both our tastes agree so perfectly;

Why, my Pygmalion, I did not think

That aught could be more beautiful than thou,

Till I behold myself. Believe me, love,

I could look in this mirror all day long.

So I’m a woman.

Pyg.There’s no doubt of that!

Gal.Oh! happy maid, to be so passing fair!And happier still Pygmalion, who can gazeAt will upon so beautiful a face!

Gal.Oh! happy maid, to be so passing fair!

And happier still Pygmalion, who can gaze

At will upon so beautiful a face!

Pyg.Hush! Galatea—in thine innocence

(Taking glass from her.)

Thou sayest things that others would reprove.

Gal.Indeed, Pygmalion; then it is wrongTo think that one is exquisitely fair?

Gal.Indeed, Pygmalion; then it is wrong

To think that one is exquisitely fair?

Pyg.Well, Galatea, it’s a sentimentThat every other woman shares with thee;They think it—but they keep it to themselves.

Pyg.Well, Galatea, it’s a sentiment

That every other woman shares with thee;

They think it—but they keep it to themselves.

Gal.And is thy wife as beautiful as I?

Pyg.No, Galatea; for in forming theeI took her features—lovely in themselves—And in marble made them lovelier still.

Pyg.No, Galatea; for in forming thee

I took her features—lovely in themselves—

And in marble made them lovelier still.

Gal.(disappointed). Oh! then I am not original?

Pyg.Well—no—That is, thou hast indeed a prototype,But though in stone thou didst resemble her,In life, the difference is manifest.

Pyg.Well—no—

That is, thou hast indeed a prototype,

But though in stone thou didst resemble her,

In life, the difference is manifest.

Gal.I’m very glad that I am lovelier than she.And am I better? (Sits, L.)

Gal.I’m very glad that I am lovelier than she.

And am I better? (Sits, L.)

Pyg.That I do not know.

Gal.Then she has faults.

Pyg.Very few, indeed;Mere trivial blemishes, that serve to showThat she and I are of one common kin.I love her all the better for such faults.

Pyg.Very few, indeed;

Mere trivial blemishes, that serve to show

That she and I are of one common kin.

I love her all the better for such faults.

Gal.(after a pause). Tell me some faults and I’ll commit them now.

Pyg.There is no hurry; they will come in time: (Sits beside her, L.)Though for that matter, it’s a grievous sinTo sit as lovingly as we sit now.

Pyg.There is no hurry; they will come in time: (Sits beside her, L.)

Though for that matter, it’s a grievous sin

To sit as lovingly as we sit now.

Gal.Is sin so pleasant? If to sit and talkAs we are sitting, be indeed a sin,Why I could sin all day. But tell me, love,Is this great fault that I’m committing now,The kind of fault that only serves to showThat thou and I are of one common kin?

Gal.Is sin so pleasant? If to sit and talk

As we are sitting, be indeed a sin,

Why I could sin all day. But tell me, love,

Is this great fault that I’m committing now,

The kind of fault that only serves to show

That thou and I are of one common kin?

Pyg.Indeed, I am very much afraid it is.

Gal.And dost thou love me better for such fault?

Pyg.Where is the mortal that could answer “no?”

Gal.Why then I’m satisfied, Pygmalion;Thy wife and I can start on equal terms.She loves thee?

Gal.Why then I’m satisfied, Pygmalion;

Thy wife and I can start on equal terms.

She loves thee?

Pyg.Very much.

Gal.I’m glad of that.I like thy wife.

Gal.I’m glad of that.

I like thy wife.

Pyg.And why?

Gal.(surprised at the question). Our tastes agreeWe love Pygmalion well, and what is more,Pygmalion loves us both. I like thy wife;I’m sure we shall agree.

Gal.(surprised at the question). Our tastes agree

We love Pygmalion well, and what is more,

Pygmalion loves us both. I like thy wife;

I’m sure we shall agree.

Pyg.(aside).I doubt it much.

Gal.Is she within?

Pyg.No, she is not within.

Gal.But she’ll come back?

Pyg.Oh! yes, she will come back.

Gal.How pleased she’ll be to know when she returns,That there was someone here to fill her place.

Gal.How pleased she’ll be to know when she returns,

That there was someone here to fill her place.

Pyg.(dryly). Yes, I should say she’d be extremely pleased. (Rises.)

Gal.Why, there is something in thy voice which saysThat thou art jesting. Is it possibleTo say one thing and mean another?

Gal.Why, there is something in thy voice which says

That thou art jesting. Is it possible

To say one thing and mean another?

Pyg.Yes,It’s sometimes done.

Pyg.Yes,

It’s sometimes done.

Gal.How very wonderful!So clever!

Gal.How very wonderful!

So clever!

Pyg.And so very useful.

Gal.Yes.Teach me the art.

Gal.Yes.

Teach me the art.

Pyg.The art will come in time.My wife will not be pleased; there—that’s the truth.

Pyg.The art will come in time.

My wife will not be pleased; there—that’s the truth.

Gal., I do not think that I shall like thy wife.Tell me more of her.

Gal., I do not think that I shall like thy wife.

Tell me more of her.

Pyg.Well—

Gal.What did she sayWhen she last left thee?

Gal.What did she say

When she last left thee?

Pyg.Humph! Well, let me see:Oh! true, she gave thee to me as my wife—Her solitary representative;(Tenderly) She feared I should be lonely till she came,And counselled me, if thoughts of love should come,To speak those thoughts to thee, as I am wontTo speak to her.

Pyg.Humph! Well, let me see:

Oh! true, she gave thee to me as my wife—

Her solitary representative;

(Tenderly) She feared I should be lonely till she came,

And counselled me, if thoughts of love should come,

To speak those thoughts to thee, as I am wont

To speak to her.

Gal.That’s right.

Pyg.(releasing her).But when she spokeThou wast a stone, now thou art flesh and blood,Which makes a difference.

Pyg.(releasing her).But when she spoke

Thou wast a stone, now thou art flesh and blood,

Which makes a difference.

Gal.It’s a strange world;A woman loves her husband very much,And cannot brook that I should love him too;She fears he will be lonely till she comes,And will not let me cheer his loneliness:She bids him breathe his love to senseless stone,And when that stone is brought to life—be dumb!It’s a strange world, I cannot fathom it.

Gal.It’s a strange world;

A woman loves her husband very much,

And cannot brook that I should love him too;

She fears he will be lonely till she comes,

And will not let me cheer his loneliness:

She bids him breathe his love to senseless stone,

And when that stone is brought to life—be dumb!

It’s a strange world, I cannot fathom it.

(Crosses, R.)

Pyg.(aside). Let me be brave, and put an end to this.(Aloud.) Come, Galatea—till my wife returns,My sister shall provide thee with a home;Her house is close at hand.

Pyg.(aside). Let me be brave, and put an end to this.

(Aloud.) Come, Galatea—till my wife returns,

My sister shall provide thee with a home;

Her house is close at hand.

Gal.(astonished and alarmed). Send me not hence,Pygmalion—let me stay.

Gal.(astonished and alarmed). Send me not hence,

Pygmalion—let me stay.

Pyg.It may not be.Come, Galatea, we shall meet again.

Pyg.It may not be.

Come, Galatea, we shall meet again.

Gal.(resignedly). Do with me as thou wilt, Pygmalion!But we shall meet again?—and very soon?

Gal.(resignedly). Do with me as thou wilt, Pygmalion!

But we shall meet again?—and very soon?

Pyg.Yes, very soon.

Gal.And when thy wife returns,She’ll let me stay with thee?

Gal.And when thy wife returns,

She’ll let me stay with thee?

Pyg.I do not know.(Aside.) Why should I hide the truth from her?(Aloud.) Alas!I may not see thee then.

Pyg.I do not know.

(Aside.) Why should I hide the truth from her?

(Aloud.) Alas!

I may not see thee then.

Gal.Pygmalion,What fearful words are these?

Gal.Pygmalion,

What fearful words are these?

Pyg.The bitter truth.I may not love thee; I must send thee hence.

Pyg.The bitter truth.

I may not love thee; I must send thee hence.

Gal.Recall those words, Pygmalion, my love!Was it for this that Heaven gave me life?Pygmalion, have mercy on me; seeI am thy work, thou hast created me;The gods have sent me to thee. I am thine,Thine! only and unalterably thine! (Music.)This is the thought with which my soul is charged.Thou tellest me of one who claims thy love,That thou hast love for her alone! Alas!I do not know these things; I only knowThat Heaven has sent me here to be with thee.Thou tellest me of duty to thy wife,Of vows that thou wilt love but her; alas!I do not know these things; I only knowThat Heaven, who sent me here, has given meOne all-absorbing duty to discharge—To love thee, and to make thee love again!

Gal.Recall those words, Pygmalion, my love!

Was it for this that Heaven gave me life?

Pygmalion, have mercy on me; see

I am thy work, thou hast created me;

The gods have sent me to thee. I am thine,

Thine! only and unalterably thine! (Music.)

This is the thought with which my soul is charged.

Thou tellest me of one who claims thy love,

That thou hast love for her alone! Alas!

I do not know these things; I only know

That Heaven has sent me here to be with thee.

Thou tellest me of duty to thy wife,

Of vows that thou wilt love but her; alas!

I do not know these things; I only know

That Heaven, who sent me here, has given me

One all-absorbing duty to discharge—

To love thee, and to make thee love again!

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