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The Puritan's Ballad

By ELINOR WYLIE

My love came up from Barnegat;

The sea was in his eyes;

He trod as softly as a cat

And told me terrible lies.

His hair was yellow as new-cut pine
In shavings curled and feathered;

I thought how silver it would shine
By cruel winters weathered.

But he was in his twentieth year

This time I'm speaking of;

We were head over heels in love with fear

And half afeared of love.

My hair was piled in a copper crown,

A devilish wriggling thing;

And the tortoise-shell pins fell down, fell down,

When that snake uncoiled to spring.

His feet were used to treading a gale
And balancing thereon;

His face was brown as a foreign sail
Threadbare against the sun.

Within his arms I feared to sink
Where lions shook their manes,
And dragons drawn in azure ink
Leapt quickened by his veins.

But our palms were welded by a flame

The moment we came to part,

And on his knuckles I read my name
Enscrolled within a heart.

And something made our wills to bend
As wild as trees blown over;

We were no longer friend and friend
But only lover and lover.

"In seven weeks or seventy years-
God grant it may be sooner—

I'll make a handkerchief for your tears
From the sails of my Captain's schooner.

We'll wear our loves like wedding rings
Long polished to the touch,

We shall be busy with other things

And they cannot bother us much.

When you are skimming the wrinkled cream And your ring clinks on the pan,

You'll say to yourself in a pensive dream, 'How wonderful a man!'

When I am slitting a fish's head

And my ring clanks on the knife,

I'll say with thanks, as a prayer is said, 'How beautiful a wife!'

And I shall fold my decorous paws

In velvet smooth and deep,

Like a kitten that covers up its claws

To sleep and sleep and sleep.

Like a little blue pigeon you shall bow

Your bright alarming crest;

In the crook of my arm you'll lay your brow

To rest and rest and rest."

Will he never come back from Barnegat

With thunder in his eyes,

Treading as soft as a tiger-cat

To tell me terrible lies?

The Carnival

A DIVINE COMEDY IN ONE ACT

By PAUL ELDRIDGE

CHARACTERS IN THE ORDER OF THEIR RECOGNITION:

THE JESTER OF THE GODS

FLOWER-GIRL

BALLOON-MAN

HARPIST

GYPSY WOMAN
MONK

BEGGAR WOMAN
DONNA LEGGIERA

MAN

JESTER

GIRL

CAVALIER IN BLUE

CAVALIER IN GREEN

PIERROT AND COLUMBINE. Two Couples MAN WITH PARROT

YOUNG MAN

ΒΟΥ

MOTHER

SOLDIERS

CAVALIER IN YELLOW PUNCH

MANNIKINS

All these are dressed typically, so as to be easily recognizable.

The rest of the characters will be known as voices, they are both men and women. One should use one's imagination who would say one thing or another.

FIRST SCENE

The curtain rises and shows: PARADISE

A garden as described in the Holy Bible. An ordinary garden, therefore, with the sole difference that every thing therein is much larger.. Being

situated at a very high altitude, the sun is nearly on a level with it, and appears like a great spider, whose yellow and white webs trail about the ground, capture the languorous worms, encircle the trunks of trees, unite the tips of leaves.

The Garden is very much neglected. The fence is rusty and sunken in; the grass is uncut; the ground unswept and littered with feathers from the wings of angels and of birds; the well, almost on a level with the ground in the center, is filled with dirty water, about which swarms of giant mosquitoes make great circles.

From time to time an old bird with a raucous voice utters a cry like the sharpening of a knife, or a snake hisses.

In the extreme right hand corner an enormous bush from which emerge roars of laughter. The gods-for there are many, in which respect the Holy Bible erred are amusing themselves, as usual. They are never seen, but their bulky shadows sieving through the bush, bush, shake with merriment. The laughter stops. One hears now the playing of a harp, evidently an enormous, untuned instrument. The playing is poor and uncertain, and the voice that tries to keep in unison, only succeeds in uttering colossal roars. The laughter recommences-a gigantic cataract of water tumbling over pointed rocks... THE JESTER OF THE GODS breaks through the bush. By the manner in which he trips, he has evidently been

pushed out by many hands or kicked by many feet. A great unseemly harp is hurled after him. He dodges it, and tries to walk rapidly to the center of the stage, but it is quite evident that he has drunk too much, and so he staggers on as well as he can. The Jester of the Gods looks just like the conventional jester of the Kings, except that he is, as everything else in Paradise, much taller. His apparel shows that his masters are certainly not over-generous. The gods laugh.

JESTER

(Threatening with his fist.) Stop!

Stop!

(The gods laugh.)

JESTER

Who cares?

JESTER

(The gods laugh.)

(The Jester yawns, a long lour yawn, that might be the roar of a lion.)

(The gods laugh.)

(The Jester yawns, a long loud yawn, continues to yawn.) (The gods laugh.)

JESTER

(Grumbling.) Certainly laughcertainly

(The gods laugh.)

JESTER

Some day-wait-Hohohohoh

(The gods laugh.)

(His voice weakens, and becomes in

(Petulantly.) Always laughing! Al- articulate.)

[blocks in formation]

THE CARNIVAL Several minutes have elapsed since The Jester of the Gods has fallen asleep, -time enough, assuredly for all the geological periods to have disappeared, and for civilization to blossom upon the Earth.

The curtain rises upon a multitude of people. The Carnival-Life. Lanterns, balloons, flowers, music. For a few minutes one can hardly distinguish one thing from another. Just a mass of people wandering up and down, and in circles, mingling, pushing, avoiding one another. Having gotten accustomed to the sight, one begins to distinguish things. In the center near the edge of the stage, like a prompter's box, one notices a fountain, and a man dressed like a jester sitting on its rim. The water of the fountain is not running now. On the extreme right a high column painted black, with an opening at the top, and an alcove scooped in the center. In the alcove, the figue of a Clown. His palms are open, one slightly below the other, as if weighing something. Where his heart should be; a deep red scar,-a slot for coins to be dropped. On the left, a man, blind and one-armed, holding between his knees a harp, whose strings he vibrates, as he sings in a racous voice the words

"In the merry, merry month of June." Near him on a side his hat into which passers-by throw coins from time to time; on the other, a gypsy woman, cards spread out before her. Farther back left, a small platform with a curtain about it, upon which the heads of Punch and Judy are embroidered.

Further back, various amusements, -a merry-go-round, a cafe,-all the usual things which make man the

happiest and proudest creature on earth. But these things having no part in the play, may simply be paintings upon a large canvass. As indeed the whole thing may be.

FLOWER-GIRL

(Wandering among the people.) Roses, carnations, dahlias! BALLOON-MAN

Balloons! Balloons! Balloons!
HARPIST

In the merry month of June-In the merry, merry month of June. GYPSY WOMAN

Your fortune told! Your fortune told!

BALLOON-MAN

Many balloons! Balloons!

FLOWER-GIRL

Roses! Carnations! Roses! (And people wandering up and down and in circles. A joyous day. The sun has passed the meridian. It is not too warm to be passing up and down, and in circles.)

FLOWER-GIRL

Roses! Roses!

GYPSY WOMAN Your fortune told!

BEGGAR

(Wandering among people) Charity! Charity! Charity!

HARPIST

In the merry, merry month of June. MONK (Appearing at the opening of the column on the right.) Oh wicked people, have you forgotten your God? Have you forgotten Him who never born shall never die? Have you forgotten the tortures that await you for the vain pleasures on earth? For every rose you cherish, a great flame consuming you a hundred years; for every vain song

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