Library of The University of North Carolina COLLECTION OF NORTH CAROLINIANA ENDOWED BY JOHN SPRUNT HILL of the Class of 1889 C*i2- £ f { r \ FOR USE ONLY IN THE NORTH CAROLINA COLLECTIO Form No. A-368, Rev. 8/95 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill https://archive.org/details/fourplays02coop f QUEEN CITY PRINTING CO.. CHARLOTTE. N. C. !. “A Christian Slave.” 2. ”1 Do.” 3. ‘‘At the Sign of the Sturgeon’s Head.” 4. ‘‘Uncle Tommy’s Harem.” FOUR PLAYS Written and produced during the year 1923 by members of The Dramatic Club of Davidson College. W. J. COOPER and E. T. WOOLFOLK Editors Davidson, N. C. The Blue Pencil Club Of Sigma Upsiton 1923 Copyrighted 1923 by The Blue Pencil Club of Sigma Upsilon Permission of “The Davidson College Maga¬ zine’ to use copyrighted material is acknowl¬ edged. Acting rights, professional and amateur, are fidly reserved and all persons whomsoever are hereby cautioned against unauthorized pro¬ duction. For permission to produce applica¬ tion should be made to B. J. Brzvin, Davidson, North Carolina , Printed in U. S. A. The Queen City Printing Co., Charlotte, N. C. FZZal To Edward Jones Erwin Director of The Dramatic Club and National President of Sigma Upsilon t > PREFA CE / N offering these plays to the reading pub¬ lic the Editors are fully aware of their many deficiencies. But they represent the zvork of a group of earnest amateurs and we hope that the reader will absorb some of their enthusiasm and so pass over the crudities with a not too critical eye. The plays zvere selected from some seven or eight written by members of The Dramatic Club during the collegiate year 1922-23. In selecting the titles for inclusion an effort was made to select plays as unlike their theme and treatment as possible, which, of course necessi¬ tated the exclusion of some really good plays. IVe believe that the plays that were selected for inclusion shozv quite a bit of dissimilarity—it is a far cry indeed from “A Christian Slave’' to “I Do'’ and “At the Sign of the Sturgeon s Head” is decidedly different from either of them. While “I Do” and “Uncle Tommy's Harem” have some points of similarity, espe¬ cially to the casual reader; a more careful perusal zvill tend to bring out their many dif¬ ferences which zvere evident in the productions. In preparing the plays for publication it zvas decided to omit matter explanatory to the ac¬ tion as far as possible, believing that it were better to give the reader’s imagination freer play. Should anyone desire to produce any of the plays The Dramatic Club will be glad to furnish such details of their production as might be desired. It might he of interest to state that all of the plays in this volume were written by members of The Blue Pencil Club of Sigma Upsilon, the national literary fraternity. IV. J. C. ifi. T. W. FOUR PLAYS “A Christian Slave" CHARACTERS (In Order of Appearance) CALIPH BORZIAN MEDEVAH KADMIEL ROMENA The rising of the curtain discloses a room in the interior of the palace of the CALIPH, a ruler in a province of the Turkish empire. At the right rear is the dais, surmounted by a canopy of purple and scarlet silk. On the left of the throne a brazen incense bowl sends up zvisps of purplish smoke. On the right the Koran rests on a stand. In the center rear a circular zvindozv dis¬ closes the dome of a mosque in the dis¬ tance. Beneath the window is a long seat with purple and scarlet cushions. A stout cord and two whips have been carelessly thrown upon the seat. A doorvoay, ornately carved with gro¬ tesques and closed by a curtain of ver¬ tically hung cords, is at the left rear. The walls are hung heavily with rich and multi-colored tapestries. A grayish- purple light is cast over the stage. An Egyptian servant, MEDEVAH, is seated by the unndow. His face is marked by cunning and cruelty. Sprawl¬ ing lazily against the door, the Captain of the Guard, BORZIAN, is toying zoith his sword. He is heavy-set and sullen of countenance; his is the face 11 FOUR PLAYS of one easily led by a superior intelli¬ gence. BORZIAN: Like sheep the infidels fled toward that narrow gateway. I reached it with the guard just as the heavy door swung shut. But my men soon saw that the Christian dogs had no way of escape, so they fell upon the door and straightway it burst inward. With me at their head they rushed bravely through the breach. There we found the swine, huddled against the farthest wall. It was over all too soon, scarce had my sword drunk blood ere the last dog was writhing upon the ground. But such luck is rare; game is not always so plentiful. MEDEVAH : Didst thou slay all ? Were there no women? BORZIAN: Ay, but old and ugly. The Caliph wants no wrinkles and white hair for his harem. MEDEVAH: Thou art right, O. Captain of the Royal Guard. But all the comely women of this accursed race of Nestorians have not been sent to the Sultan. Though but a few, there must be some left for the Caliph—■ and his courtiers. Come, good Borzian, didst thou not bring in one? Methinks I saw thee enter the slave quarters with a most shapely burden. BORZIAN: Thou art uncommon watchful, Medevah. I do remember now. There was one girl. Her mother, with my sword at her very throat, cried out telling her to kill herself and calling her Romena. Kill herself, indeed. Not while the Captain of the Guard is mind¬ ful of the Caliph's orders. 12 FOUR PLAYS 3000 C=DOOOC==>OOO0 MEDEVAH: Ah, I have seen Romena. She hid her face and fled from me but yesterday; though not before I had glimpsed the pretty face she sought to hide. And she could not conceal the grace with which she ran. Thou didst well to spare her, Borzian. BORZIAN: I have not served his majesty these many yqars without learning the value of a comely maiden. ’Twas I who brought him Veshna, his favorite wife; for that service I am Captain of the Guard. MEDEVAH (Observing the Captain closely ) : The bravery and wisdom thou hast shown on many occasions persuade me that thou shouldst be more than Captain. The golden helmet which only the Chief Commander may wear, would become thy stern face well. Thou dost speak of many years of service— a life devoted to the Caliph. And he hath made that fool Bestius Chief Command¬ er after but two short years of pomp and strutting. Thou art ten times a better soldier than he, Borzian. BORZIAN: Thou sayest truly, Medevah. But so it is, and so it must continue. A Son of the Prophet can make no error. MEDEVAH : Son of the Prophet! Who told thee that he is a Son of the Prophet ? BORZIAN: Why— He himself saith it, the Caliph hath said so himself. MEDEVAH: Then let the Caliph alone believe it. Thou hast been much about among the children of men, O Captain. Surely thou art too wise to be led by what a man saith of himself. 13 FOUR PLAYS 30000 Qnnr x - i nmrx - inmc -) OOCX—DOOCX—>OOOOOOcr=>QOO< — ~XXX)C~TZX300 c BORZIAN: Thou speakest truly, Medevah. I am no fool. MEDEVAH: Ah, now dost thou show the wisdom of a Chief Comman¬ der. I have somewhat to speak to thee. Wilt thou swear to keep it hid within thee? BORZIAN: Upon my sword I swear it. ( Presses the blade to his lips.) No word shall pass these lips. MEDEVAH: There is, in the ante¬ chamber, a Nestorian prisoner, one Kadmiel. Him the Caliph cast into the deepest dungeon beneath this palace. He shall tell thee with his own lips what he found there in the depths ,of the earth, forgotten of the Caliph. (MEDEVAH passes just outside the curtained doorway.) MEDEVAH : Come, my Nestorian. Thy bonds shall soon be off. (KADMIEL enters, his wrists bound together with a cord. He is fair-skin¬ ned and handsome, but shows the effects of confinement.) MEDEVAH: Now, my friend, tell good Borzian of that which thou hast seen. (KADMIEL looks cautiously and in¬ quiringly at MEDEVAH who nods to reassure him.) KADMIEL: In the dungeon where¬ in the Caliph cast me I found the mouldy bones of a man, and a rock, guarded by a serpent. I slew the ser¬ pent and turned aside the rock. Beneath were the skin garmets and crooked staff of a shepherd. To Medevah I revealed this, pleading that I be placed in another cell. 14 FOUR PLAYS Oococ^ooocrz)ooocr:j>oc:coooc=z)oooc=)oooc=>cxDoc BORZIAN: What meaneth this strange account, Medevah? What hath it to do with a Son of the Prophet, or with a Chief Commander? MEDEVAH: Long did I ponder. Many hours I spent in fruitless effort to fathom this mystery. At last, O Cap¬ tain, Allah revealed it to me. Thou hast sworn secrecy? BORZIAN: Upon the oath of a soldier. MEDEVAH: The bones were all that remain of the rightful and true Caliph. The shepherd’s skins and staff now upon the throne and calleth him- were the possession of him who sitteth self “Son of the Prophet.” The old Caliph was slain, foully and treacher¬ ously, by him who calleth himself Caliph, a base and bloody usurper. BORZIAN: Dost thou know, O Medevah, that thou hast uttered both blasphemy and treason. Beware lest thy thoughts be discovered. (He glances at KADMI\BL.) The Caliph hath said that he who speaketh treacherous words shall be sawn in sunder. MEDEVAH: Blasphemy can be truth, O Captain, and treason the death- knell of false despots. But I fear not the saws if some friend of courage and wit guide me in this matter—one with the bravery and wisdom of a Chief Commander. BORZIAN: Thou are skillful in affairs of this nature. Medevah. And I do believe that thou dost speak truth, though my soldier head is sore bewil¬ dered by this revelation. I shall keep silence. Qooo< —:>ocpcz 30 Qocz:o ocxDcnxxxxrmoac oooc=dcxx)c= 30 coc==?c)oo c: IS FOUR PLAYS MEDEVAH: For thy silence I thank thee. This have I to say, O Captain. While the Caliph lives we are in continuous fear for our lives. Neither is it possible to free our province from the burden of his usurping tyranny. That braying donkey, Bestius, whom he hath made Chief Commander, he also must be— BORZIAN: Ah, leave Bestius to me, friend. But thou hast spoken rightly. He who calleth himself Caliph must be slain. MEDEVAH: If thou dost think best, Captain. I trust thine astuteness in these matters. Be it as thou hast spoken. Now, we have further use for our Nestorian informer. Kadmiel, let us hear again that plan which thou didst unfold to me. KADMIEL: The Caliph hath op¬ pressed and slain my kindred in great numbers, as thou dost know. He hath persecuted us because we worship the God of our fathers. And our women he hath seized. They must be avenged. Ah, I will kill him, I will kill him! This is the plan: As the Caliph goetli to the Mosque upon the day of the celebration of the Hegira, I will cast down on him from the Tower of Death, a dagger, tempered in the poison of the asp— He shall die—Our women will be avenged! MEDEVAH: And for our part, O Borzian, we will see that he goeth un¬ punished. KADMIEL: And my Romena, thou didst promise to restore her to me. MEDEVAH: True, thou shalt have thy Romena. (BORZIAN looks dis¬ it QOC»CZ=OOOOC=ZXXX> FOUR PLAYS pleased, and is about to speak in protest) And thou, good Borzian, when he who calleth himself Caliph is dead, thou shalt take the golden helmet from the unworthy head of Bestius and be thence¬ forth Chief Commander. BORZIAN: And thou, O cunning Medevah, shalt be Caliph. Thou, hav¬ ing wisdom, shalt be Son of the Prophet. And I, having courage and strength, shall be Chief Commander. May Allah be praised for this our good fortune. KADMIEL: I care not what you become, so I have back my Romena. One thing further, Medevah. It is rumored among the people that the Caliph proposes not to attend the cele¬ bration of the Hegira. That his fate may be doubly sure, I will tell him of the words of the people so that, lest they know him for a coward, he will go— and pass beneath the Tower of Death. MEDEVAH: Well conceived, my Nestorian friend. Go thou and return as speedily as thou canst. (The cords are removed from KadmieVs wrists.) Mine heart will not rest till this plan be well laid. And thou hadst best dis¬ guise thyself as a beggar. I will make sure that thou hast immediate access to the Caliph’s ear. (KADMIEL departs.) MEDEVAH : Borzian, wilt thou see that thy guard doth not prevent him ? BORZIAN : Gladly Medevah. (Ex¬ ulting (I shall be Chief Commander with a golden helmet, and thou shalt be Caliph! MEDEVAH: As thou sayest. But one thing I desire equally with the OOOCK=DOOO<==DOCOC=3)CXXDC=DOOOC^CXDOOC>DC==)OOOC=3C)OOC=Z)OC)OC 17 FOUR PLAYS OOOC —-X 3QQCZ3QOOO throne: when the Caliph is slain, Bor- zian, when thou art Chief Commander, wilt thou deliver to me the Nestorian slave girl, Romena? I shall know no peace till she is mine. I must have Romena, good Borzian. BORZIAN: What of thy Nestorian friend ? MEDEVAH: We will let him choose between another damsel and the sword. He may take either. BORZIAN: She is the most desir¬ able of all the slave girls of the Caliph. But there are others, Medevah. Since thou dost so greatly covet her she shall be thine. With my burnished gold helmet I shall not lack for wives. Thou mayest have her. MEDEVAH : I thank thee, Captain. Now let us pledge ourselves upon this compact. (He takes up the Koran from beside the dais.) MEDEVAH: I do swear that all that I have spoken to thee, O Borzian, shall be even as I have spoken. If I fail let my body be cast to the dogs. May Allah witness! BORZIAN: I swear also, Medevah. (He takes the Koran.) BORZIAN: If I do not all that I have spoken let my body be cast to the —let Bestius slay me. May Allah wit¬ ness. (The CALIPH enters. MEDEVAH quickly takes the Koran. The Captain of the Guard takes his place by the door. Both make obeisance to the CALIPH, tc 'ho mounts the dais.) MEDEVAH: My lord, I have been 18 Qococ-rooooc=xxx> FOUR PLAYS diligent in study of late upon the works of the great Mahomet. Such wisdom as is his could only belong to a son of heaven. CALIPH: Thou art wise, Medevah, In the short time since the Sultan sent thee to me as a reward of fidelity, thou hast learned our ways well. Continue thus, Son of Egypt, and I shall have higher use for thee. MEDEVAH: Most gracious sov- erign, who am I that thou shouldst thus regard me? By the laws of conquest my body is thine; now I give my heart also—I am thy slave. CALIPH: Well spoken, Medevah. Thou shalt stay by me always. But thou hadst best beware lest one of my slave girls steal thine heart away from its allegiance. MEDEVAH: Thy slave girls truly are most beautiful, O Caliph, but they are thine, and what is thine to me is sacred. CALIPH: That is well, Medevah. Since thou are thus faithful thou shalt have one of thine own choosing at the next feast day, to be thy first bride. So doth the Caliph reward fealty. And if thou dost continue faithful she shall be but the first of thy harem. MEDEVAH: A thousand obei¬ sances, O munificent one. May thy wives, like thy virtues, be without num¬ ber. CALIPH: Captain of the Guard, hast thou taken many prisoners for thy soverign of late? Eor a thick-headed soldier thou hast an uncommon eye for pretty faces. 00OOd=>OOOCZZ3 OOOC~TT3QOQ(-~>QOQC 3000 ( 19 FOUR PLAYS BORZIAN: I have slain many, O Caliph. But these Nestorians are crafty and their women are— CALIPH: Curse these Nestorian dogs. I would not wipe mine feet upon the face of one of them. But their women are sometimes a refreshment to the jaded eyes of even a Caliph. Come, Borzian, didst thou not take one on the last holiday? Beware lest thine eye cost thee thine head. The keeper of the slave quarters told me of a certain Romena. BORZIAN: Your majesty, I—did— CALIPH: Go and fetch her! For thy deception thou shalt not look more upon my face this day. Hide thyself from me, O man of lying lips. (BORZIAN departs in haste.) MEDEVAH: Perfidious Borzian. His sword he can control, his greed he cannot. Did he not know that the Caliph is not thus easily deceived by an idle lie? CALIPH: Ah, Medevah. One who rules men early learns that he cannot trust them. MEDEVAH: Most gracious sov- erign, I shall be ever true to thee. My heart is thine, never shall it harbor any¬ thing in concealment from its lord. (A struggle is heard outside the cur¬ tains of the door.) BORZIAN ( Off stage) : And mind the manner of your entrance. He is the Caliph. ( The girl, ROM BN A, is heard hysterically weeping. BORZIAN : In, dog of a Christian ! (ROMBNA is pushed roughly through the doorway and falls prostrate in the 20 FOUR PLAYS center of the room . She is a beautiful Nestorian maiden; her face bears the marks of weeping .) CALIPH: Up! I sent for thee for no weeping. Hast thou not been taught what is proper conduct in the presence of a Son of the Prophet? Medevah, thou hast a way with women, ha, ha, ha! See if thou canst not make that rain storm to cease and cause the flower to turn her face up to her sun, the Caliph. (MEDB VAH hatds her roughly to her knees. She hides her face in her hands, but he pulls them away, holding her for the inspection of the Caliph. She struggles with him.) MEDEVAH: Still, Tigress. A Christian should not so treat a Moham¬ medan. ROMENA: Kill me, I pray thee. Worse is this than a thousand deaths. If thou hast one drop of mercy in thy blood, scourge me with that whip and let me go. Only spare me this! CALIPH: Fair she is, but we must teach her to smile. So distressful a countenance doth not show me proper reverence; nor do clouds become so pleasing a face. MEDEVAH: She hath a proud spirit, your majesty. But that doth make conquest more to be desired. Lips hot with hate are sweeter far than lips warm with love. Come, a little sun¬ shine, fair Romena. CALIPH: It is thy lowering coun¬ tenance that causeth her to weep. Egyp¬ tians are not comely, Medevah. And thou art no exception. Thou dost well to relish stolen sweets—the maid doth OOOOCZTDCXX>C=3CXX)<=3COCC=DC)OOC=DOOO O 21 FOUR PLAYS Ooooc=^000ci=>000<===) oorxrrDnnfx-inmnnn i-> noo <-i nnni-iron <- kyxh-iqqqQ not live who could kiss thee willingly. MEDEVAH (bows) : True, O Caliph. But he who waiteth for a gift often wants. He who seizeth at his own de¬ sire hath always his prize. (ROMBNA breaks azmy but is re- caught by MEDEVAH and dragged before the dais once more. With her arms twisted behind her back he forces her to the feet of the Caliph.) ROMENA: Why do you not kill me as you slew my mother ? How much more gentle would be a sword. How welcome a knife within my heart. O Caliph, doth not Allah teach men cour¬ tesy? CALIPH: Speak not the name of Allah with those unholy lips. Allah teacheth no womanly virtues to his sub¬ jects. His disciples learn wisdom and courage from him. Mahomet showed us how to be brave; gentleness is a Christian virture. ROMENA: And dost thou call this courage? Is it brave to torture a wo¬ man? If thou didst have the honor of a swineherd my blood would not be up¬ on thee on the Day of Accounting as I swear it shall be. Canst thou not give me a knife? I know wherein to sheath it. Would it not give thee pleasure to see me die? I am a Christian, let me die. MEDEVAH: Thou art a Christian and shouldst die. But thou art a beau¬ tiful Christian, we do not kill beautiful Christians. (A man, clad in rags and heavily hooded, leaning upon a staff enters left.) CALIPH: Knave, what dost thou 22 FOUR PLAYS QCCC nnrx innn onn < i non . i no m > orv-. cr 24 FOUR PLAYS through fear that thou stayest within thy palace. The blasphemous words of such as these have the fickle ear of the people and some be even so lacking in reverence as to speak of thy failure to worship at the mosque as showing cowardice unbecoming a Caliph. Thus do thy subjects talk, O courageous one. (ROM BN A shows a ray of hope.) CALIPH: They are an ungrateful lot. A ruler is never safe from the vile tongue of slanderers. And there be some who are deceived by them. MEDEVAH: A curse upon their imbecility. But men who lack faith in their master make treacherous subjects. Mayhap it would be discreet thus to convince the doubting fools of thy strength and courage, my lord. If thou seest fit to perform the traditional cus¬ tom of the Caliphs it will strengthen their faith in Allah and in thee. Taxes for tribute past due to the Sultan will flow into thy treasuries with their fresh confidence in thee. CALIPH : Thou’rt right, my faithful councillor. This beggar hath done well. Pay him fittingly, Medevah, and let him g°. (ROM\BNA lapses into hopelessness. MEDEVAH gives the BEGGAR a coin and whispers aside.) MEDEVAH: Well done, my Nes- torian friend. (Just outside the door, the BEGGAR hesitates unnoticed.) CALIPH: Ah, but we cannot per¬ mit the murmuring of the people to in¬ vade the pleasures of our court. Let us try again to coax a smile from our sor- 25 FOUR PLAYS rowful beauty. Come hither, Romena. {ROM BN A \reluctantly approaches the dais.) MEDEVAH {following her with his eyes, says to himself) : Ah, the spoils of my victory. CALIPH: What sayest thou, slave? MEDEVAH: Naught, my lord. I did but think of the foolish suspicions of thy people. CALIPH: Thou wouldst do well to keep thy thoughts behind thy lips. MEDEVAH: True, O Caliph. CALIPH : Come hither to me, slave girl. Canst thou not give the great Ca¬ liph one kiss? Come now— {The BEGGAR represses anger with difficulty, crouching just without the doorway.) ROMENA: Oh, whv should I be made thus to suffer? Is there no es¬ cape? Would that I had died as thou didst, my mother. Will ye not kill me if I curse thy god? Hear me, O Allah. Thou hast the spirit of a snake, the courage of a frog, thy worshipers are less than swine. Mahomet is— is— lower than a Christian! {The CALIPH grasps at her. She escapes but is caught by MEDEVAH, who raises his hand to strike her, threateningly. The lights change to an angry red.) MEDEVAH: No Christian may blaspheme the wondrous Allah. And in the very presence of the Caliph. I’ll teach thee reverence, daughter of a dog! {He seises ROMENA by the wrist and drags her toward the whip lying on the ottoman.) QOPCX^=)OOOC^>OfV-)(-mnm-innrv-.nrv'.nnni-mm,-w-v-v,,-,000,_ 26 FOUR PLAYS CALIPH: Hold, Medevah. Stay thy temper. The damsel is not thine. I shall do with her as I will. Wait thou my command. MEDEVAH: She hath defamed Allah! (MEDEVAH takes the whip and raises it to strike her.) ROMENA: Kadmiel, my Kadmiel, canst thou not help me? (She crouches at MEDEVAH'S feet. He is about to strike her. The beggar springs forward and throws back his hood.) BEGGAR: Spawn of devils, take thy profane hands from her. If I kill thee not myself, I have that which will be thy death. ROMENA: My Kadmiel, save me, save thy Romena! (KADMIEL puts her behind him pro- tectingly. MEDEVAH starts back, then recovers.) MEDEVAH: Thou white-skinned, fair-haired infidel. If thou darest to deal with me doubly— CALIPH: What meaneth this? Beg¬ gar that was, I’ll have an accounting for this deception. Methinks I have beheld thy countenance before. KADMIEL: Hear then, O Caliph. I am Kadmiel, a Nestorian. With me, that faithless courtier of thine, Mede¬ vah, plotted to slay thee as thou didst go to the celebration of the Hegira. Thy death being accomplished, he treason¬ ably did plan to take thy throne, making himself Caliph in thv stead. MEDEVAH: He lies. The whin¬ ing dog lies! 27 FOUR PLAYS KADMIEL: I plotted with him because I hated thee for what thou hast done to my Romena. But now, O Caliph, I perceive that my cause is against him, more than against thee, that subtile, dark-skinned serpent, Me- devah. (The CALIPH looks angrily at MB- DBVAH.) MEDEVAH: He lies, my lord. I have been ever faithful to thee! (MBDlBVAH edges closer to the dais and to the rear of the CALIPH .) CALIPH (To Kadmiel) : Thou dost confess that thou hast plotted against me. Yet thy revelation hath saved my life. KADMIEL: I have saved thy life, O Caliph. And for my service I do claim the freedom of Romena. ROMENA: O Kadmiel, never was lover so true. CALIPH : But thou art a Nestorian, and Romena is a slave girl. Canst thou not be content with thine own freedom? Thou shalt not thus easily play upon my heart. Freedom is gained with a dearer price. But the greater condemnation is Medevah’s. Him shall I show what it means to betray the Caliph. (MBDBVAH rises from behind the dais and stabs the CALIPH with a knife. The Caliph dies.) MEDEVAH: Now, my fair-skinned friend. The people shall be told that thou didst slay the Caliph. I shall be Caliph in his stead, thou shalt be my slave—and Romena shalt be my slave girl. Come, my beauty. Why dost OOOOCZZXDOOCUD nno t i nnn i > nnn < i nnn noo < i nnni mnn i i nnn c 28 FOUR PLAYS thou cling to him? I am thy master now. Medevah is lord. {He advances toward her. KADMIBL puts ROM BNA behind him and draws a knife from beneath his tunic.) KADMIEL: Devil incarnate, vic¬ tory comes not so easily. Thy lying treachery shall not go unavenged! MEDEVAH: The knife that slew the Caliph shall slay thee also, Christian dog! KADMIEL: Tempered in the poi¬ son of the asp! (They struggle. KADMIBL stabs MRDBVAH and he falls heavily to the floor.) ROMENA: Kadmiel, thou hast saved me. I loved thee before, if there be a passion greater than love, I give it thee. (KADMIBL goes to the doorway to see if the zvay is clear. He returns and takes her by the hand.) KADMIBLs Come, heart of my heart. Let us go hence to join our own people in their exile. (With his arm about her they slowly start to leave the stage as the curtain falls.) — H. K. Russell. 3000C=DOOOC=30000 29 FOUR PLAYS “I Do” CHARACTERS {In Order of Appearance) CHARLES WERNER—A rather wild, but smart, hard¬ working young lawyer and greatly in love with Peg. ELIZABETH MYERS—Friend of Peg's and like her in many ways, but she is a bit more reckless than Peg because she has her family completely under control. ARCHIE EASTON—Great friend of Charles. Somewhat of a tea hound. REGINALD van TUEL—A good sport, wealthy in money and family but exceedingly poor in brains. Is the proud possessor of both a monocle and a small moustache. PEGGY GREYS—Typical flapper and the bride-to-be. Im¬ pulsive and high tempered. SCENE: Living room of Lib's house. Room furnished with taste and refinement. Victrola is in one comer of the stage, divan in another corner and near the center. Door zvith por¬ tieres in rear of stage opening into the outer hall, door on left side of the stage leading into den. Impractical window on other side of stage from door. Lib and Charles are seated on the divan as the curtain rises and Archie cuts off a loud lazz record as they start talking. CHARLES : Cut that thing off, Ar¬ chie. ELIZABETH: It certainly is great to have you back with us, Charlie, and I know Peg will be thrilled to death to 30 FOUR PLAYS see you even if she did almost marry Reggie. CHARLES : That invitation Archie sent certainly surprised me. When I got his wire I came a-running tho I realized that it would be too late. ELIZABETH: Where have you been ? CHARLES: Well, when Peg and I had our bust up, I checked for parts un¬ known. I landed in Omaha where I looked up a long lost uncle, who is an influential lawyer in those parts. He had never seen me before; but as Dad had put him thru College, he showed his gratitude by getting me a job in the firm, I have been working there ever since. Archie has had my address for several weeks. ELIZABETH—Archie is such a clam he didn't let anybody know. But why didn’t you tell Peg where you were ? CHARLES: That was hardly pos¬ sible after the way she treated me. I have some pride. But that’s enough about me. What I want to know, is something about this near-wedding. My train got in late, and I haven’t gotten any straight dope on it at all. (Bell rings off-stage ) ELIZABETH: Archie, see who’s there, please. (Exit Archie.) It was like this. After you and Peg had your little spat, she stayed on her ear for quite a while and didn’t single out any man to center her affections on. But you could see all along that her family was tickled silly over your leav¬ ing, and were doing their darndest to OCOC=3000C=)GOO^-3000C=3OOO<==>0OOC 31 FOUR PLAYS match her with Reggie, because of his family and money of course. CHARLES: I understand the fam¬ ily’s attitude all right. But Peggy? She’s beyond me. ELIZABETH : Well, when you dis¬ appeared and didn’t write or anything Peg didn't have any regular fellow to jazz around with, and she just naturally picked up Reggie on the rebound. CHARLES : Humph! But what about the wedding? (Enter Archie with several letters and papers.) ARCHIE: Here’s a full account of it in the CHRONICLE. Read it to him, Lib. Hands paper to Lib. ELIZABETH: Let’s have it (Read¬ ing) Gee, look at the headlines—clean across the page. “St Luke’s is the scene of unparallelled incident. Wedding inter¬ rupted by fire just as groom has taken marriage vows.” Then comes the story. “Last evening St. Luke’s Epis¬ copal Church was the scene of an ex¬ ceedingly strange incident at the wed¬ ding of Miss Peggy Greys and Mr. Re¬ ginald van Tuel. Just as Bishop War¬ ren turned to the bride, after the groom had taken the most solemn of vows to love, honor, and cherish, the cry of fire was heard and the church began to fill with smoke. The large crowd was im¬ mediately thrown into a panic and the bride fainted.” CHARLES: Fainted ? ARCHIE: I’ll say she did. I helped to carry her to the car. Believe me she was dead to the world. ELIZABETH: Yes, Peg had been 32 FOUR PLAYS going it pretty strong for the last month or so. She was all wrought up over the wedding, and the fire was a bit too much for her. But let me go on. “By the heroic efforts of the fire department the beautiful church was saved; but the wedding could not be continued as the bride was carried at once to her home where she received medical attention. Miss Greys is still suffering from her nervous shock but it is announced by the family that the wedding will be con¬ tinued as soon as the charming bride has regained her health. This regret¬ table incident, however, is not without its humorous side as the groom is bound by the solemnest of vows, while the bride is absolutely free. ARCHIE: Free! Aint she mar¬ ried ? ELIZABETH: What about it, Charles? Is she married now, or can she back out if she wants to ? CHARLES: No, she is NOT mar¬ ried. If she should back out, old Reg¬ gie could sue her for breach of promise. But then she will go on with the cere¬ mony. She must love Reggie to have gone this far with it. ELIZABETH: I’n* not so sure. What made you and Peggy bust up any¬ way? I never did get the straight of it. Archie here was so mysterious I couldn’t get a thing out of him. And Peg was furious every time your name was mentioned. CHARLES: Good old Archie. He certainly is a hero not to have let you pull it out of him. But as it is all over, I can tell you about it. You see Peg 33 FOUR PLAYS had been going at a pretty rapid rate. You know that, for you were right along with her if not a few laps ahead. As we were engaged, or at least I thought we were, I took it upon myself to tell her that I thought she had better throw in the clutch and coast a while. ARCHIE: It sure made her mad. I heard what she had to say about it. CHARLES: Yes, she told me that just because we might get married some day I needn’t think that I could dictate to her and a lot more to the same effect. ELIZABETH : That’s just like Peg. She handed you that line while she was mad, and didn’t mean a word of it. CHARLES: I don’t know about that. But the straw that broke the ca¬ mel’s back was a little incident at the Elysian Club dance. We quarreled all the way to the dance, and Peg refused to give me the intermission. I got it with Lillian Kellog, who, as you know, has quite a reputation as a wild woman. ARCHIE: It's more than reputa¬ tion, my boy. ELIZABETH: Humph! I see. ELIZABETH: How do you know so much about it ? CHARLES: As Lillian had been imbibing a bit too freely we drove up town and drove back slowly so that the cool air would steady her nerves. CHARLES: Well, just as Lillian was getting out of the car, she caught her heel on the running board. And if I hadn’t been there to catch her, she would have fallen. As luck would have it, just at that moment Peg drove by and saw the whole thing. She wouldn’t 34 FOUR PLAYS speak to me or give me a chance to ex¬ plain. That was when I beat it for Omaha. ELIZABETH: Idiot! You ought to have stayed here. ARCHIE: But I explained to Peg¬ gy. I told her how I had to take Lil¬ lian home from the dance because she broke her heel when she fell. ELIZABETH : What good did that do when Charlie was a million miles away. No wonder the poor girl broke loose. You thought she was wild be¬ fore, but she broke all speed records after you left. This little Angel child wasn’t in her class at all. Then she wound it all up by announcing her en¬ gagement to Reggie. CHARLES: These flapper flirtations make me sick. They are bad enough ordinarily; but when they carry them to the altar—Good night! But Peg’s got good stuff in her if she will get over her ambition to be a wild woman. And to be wasted on Reggie! ARCHIE—Here’s good old Reggie now. Enter Reggie REGGIE—Hello, old things. I just toddled in to awsk of you had heard anything from Peggie. Eh, what? CHARLES: Reggie, old top, how goes it? REGGIE ( Seeing Chas. for the -first time and eyeing him with some distaste) Why—er—er—Chawlie. I didn’t know you were in our city. CHARLES: Sure, Reggie, I came for the wedding. It seems I was a lit¬ tle late for the first round, but I am in Oooo 'Oocxrzr* 35 FOUR PLAYS time for the knock out. When does it come off ? REGGIE: That's just what your uncle Reggie is frightfully keen to know, old chappie. I trickled around to the Grey’s home this morning, but the bally butler wouldn’t let me in, y’know. Said Miss Peggy had not re¬ covered from the shock, by jove. ARCHIE: How about your self? Have you recovered? REGGIE: No, old dear. The old bean spun around like a deuced top all night. Fact is I didn’t close my eyes ’pon my word. My man Brooks, sat up all night and held my hand and fed me cracked ice. ELIZABETH: Poor Brooks! REGGIE: You see I collected all my nerves, y’know, for the jolly cere¬ mony. I had made up my mind— CHARLES: Your what? REGGIE : My mind, dash it. Where was I ? Oh yas. I fawncy that none of you have ever been married. ELIZABETH: No, not yet. It must be a harrowing experience. REGGIE: Harrowing, my dear old thing? It’s frightful. I think I could swallow being really married but what I cawnt abide is this deuced uncertainty. Am I married or am I not? This half¬ way stuff makes me feel such a silly ass. ELIZABETH : I have consulted my lawyer, Reggie. He tells me that you are married to her but she is not mar¬ ried to you. You must love, honor, and cherish her, endow her with all your worldly goods, and all that kind of rot. 24 FOUR PLAYS But as she has never said “I DO” you can’t hold her to anything. She can do just as she pleases. You are at her mercy. REGGIE: Aw, I can’t stand it, y’know. ARCHIE : Man, she’ll lead you one jolly life. You have to do just exactly as she says and she’s one of these mod¬ ern “wild women” too. Poor Reggie. ELIZABETH: Poor Reggie! CHARLES: Poor Reggie! REGGIE: I say, old dears, what shall I do? ELIZABETH: Well, the doctor says she can’t possibly go through the ceremony for a month. Her nerve—I mean her nerves—won’t stand it. REGGIE: A month. I’ll pop across to Europe. CHARLES: You can’t. You see in the eyes of the law you are her hus¬ band. To go away now would be equiv¬ alent to desertion. REGGIE: I cawn’t stand a month of this. I can’t endure it y’know. If she insists on going through the bally ceremony, I have made up my mind to carry on. But if she should stand up in front of the altar and say “I don’t” instead of “I DO”—I know it’s a cadish thing to say—but I should be relieved. ’Pon my word I would. Well I must be toddling. I’ll be back anon. Ta ta. (Exit Reggie. All stand thunderstruck.) ARCHIE ( Recovering ) : Well what do you know about that? (Sound of girl's voice outside to left.) ELIZABETH: It’s PEG. She’s coming up thru the den. Go out in the 37 FOUR PLAYS •xmg v -j onoO hall, Charlie. She mustn’t see you so suddenly in the state she’s in. Run along home, Archie. I’ll call you when I want you. Go on, both of you. (Exit Charles and Archie R. C. Elis¬ abeth goes to Victrola. Enter Peg.) ELIZABETH : Peg, darling ( They embrace.) But what are you doing here ? Come on over and lie down (Peggy lies on the sofa). I thought you were sick in bed from shell shock. PEGGY: I couldn’t stand it anoth¬ er minute, Lib. I had to see you. ELIZABETH: Why didn’t you send for me ? PEGGY: Why, I knew that Mother and the nurse would be right with us and I wanted to see you alone. ELIZABETH: How did you come? PEGGY: While the nurse was out of the room, I slipped down the back stairs, got in the car Reggie gave me for a wedding present, and here I am. ELIZABETH: You just missed Reggie. PEGGY: Yes, I know. I saw his car out in front. I drove round to your garage and came up thru the kit¬ chen. Perkins is a dear. I came up when I heard Reggie go out. ELIZABETH: How are you feel¬ ing, dear. PEGGY: Feeling? Lib, can you keep a secret ? ELIZABETH—Shoot. PEGGY: I didn’t faint at all. ELIZABETH: What? PEGGY: No, when I stood before the Bishop, I was praying that some¬ thing might happen to keep that hor- 38 FOUR PLAYS ooo c=>oooc=>oooO rible ceremony from taking place. That fire seemed like a direct answer to prayer. Before I thought, I flopped. And I kept on flopping. I fooled the doctor, the nurse, and everybody. ELIZABETH: Well, you are cer¬ tainly one grand little flopper. PEGGY: But the worst is yet to come. I was hardly out of my first fainting spell when mother wanted to know when I was going to complete the ceremony. I promptly fainted again, but I can’t keep on fainting every time the subject is mentioned. ELIZABETH: Don’t you want to marry Reggie? PEGGY : Heavens no ! You know, Lib, while I was lying on the floor be¬ fore the altar, my life came before me as they say a drowning man can see his whole life. What a fool I’ve been. I’m off this wild woman stuff forever. It seemed a lot of fun when we first bobbed our hair, shortened our skirts, painted our faces and broke loose in general. And when Charles tried to stop me I went on worse than ever just to show him. And just to prove he was not the only one, and to stop Mo¬ ther’s dinging at me, I agreed to marry Reggie. I knew if I married him I’d be a wild woman all my days and I was so desperate I rather liked the prospect. Just to spend Reggie’s money and to raise Cain. But I’m cured. ELIZABETH: What are you go¬ ing to do ? PEG: Well common decency 're¬ quires that I go on and marry Reggie. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to. 39 FOUR PLAYS I don’t see why on earth I ever let Charles go. ELIZABETH : Neither do I. CHARLES ( Entering ) Neither do I. (Peg stares at Chas. incredulously.) ELIZABETH ’.{Mischievously) Now is a good time to practice your fainting stunt, Peggy. {No reply from Charles and Peg who continue to stare at each other speechlessly.) Here’s where little Elizabeth does her famous disappearing act. This is no place for her. {Exit Elizabeth.) PEGGY {Recovering) : You heard what I said? CHARLES : Part of it. PEGGY—And you still call yourself a gentleman? CHARLES: I do. My overhear¬ ing could not be helped. Come on,Peg. Let’s declare an armistice and discuss peace terms. Let’s sit down and talk things over calmly. PEGGY: I am not so sure that there is anything to talk over. I am a mar¬ ried woman. At least I am partially married. CHARLES: All the more reason why we should remove old scores. What’s the use of our quarrelling if you are already married? PEGGY: Well on that understand¬ ing alone, I will discuss matters with you. {They seat themselves on the sofa) CHARLES : On that understanding then, you know there is absolutely no¬ thing in that Lillian Kellog incident. PEGGY: Yes, Archie explained that to me. OOOC<==>OOOC==>CXDOC==5 oor* -annr v-i nnomno t - i nnr v - i nnn i-i nnn c 40 FOUR PLAYS CHARLES: Then there’s nothing else. PEGGY: Oh, yes there is. There was so much talk about you and Lillian that I had to believe some of it. Why, I went to three bridge parties in one week, and all that I heard was gossip about you two. CHARLES (Rising to his feet and gesticulating with his arms) : Yes, gos¬ sip ! gossip! That detestable concoction of little minds, the spawn of jealousy and the devil, on which many so-called Christians thrive. The thing that turns the red flag of Bolshevism into a Christian pennant of purest white. The thing that paints a modern Babylon from an innocent dance and turns the thoughtless actions of the younger gen¬ eration into debaucheries of degene¬ rates. A lot of old hens, with nothing else to do, cackle about things of which they know nothing. Believe me, it makes me so sore— PEGGY ( Applauding ) Fine, Charles, I have never seen you so warmed up. CHARLES: Well, don’t you agree with me? These gossips— PEGGY: Oh, don’t begin again. I agree with you. But it’s perfectly nat¬ ural that I should think that there must be some fire where there was so much smoke. And you made it worse by go¬ ing away without a word. Why did you do it? CHARLES: Well, you seemed so hard and heartless that I thought there was no use. You paid no attention to me, and would give me no chance to explain. 41 FOUR PLAYS PEGGY: So you just naturally ran away. That was when I went wild sure enough and ended by marrying Reggie. CHARLES : Marrying Reggie ? But you are not married yet. PEGGY: Oh, yes I am. Remember that I am discussing these matters only on the understanding that I am mar¬ ried. CHARLES: All right, on that un¬ derstanding. You will admit that I am forgiven all past transgressions. PEGGY: I’ll go further than that. You were right in that little sermon you preached me. I knew it at the time; but you made me so mad that I got worse for a while. But that is all over now. (Charles turns impulsively toward her.) PEGGY: Be calm. Remember our understanding. ( Mischievously in spite of herself and her seriousness) Through your influence I will make Reggie a good wife. CHARLES: Make who a good wife? (Springs to his feet.) PEGGY: Why, Reggie, of course. CHARLES : Like thunder you will. Peg, this matter must be settled once and for all. Do you love Reggie? PEGGY: No! But I don’t see that you have any right to ask such a ques¬ tion. CHARLES: I’ll prove my right. Peg, I hate to puncture your well known colossal conceit. But I happen to know that Reggie will be just as much re¬ lieved to get out of this marriage as you will. PEGGY: What ? 42 FOUR PLAYS CHARLES: I’m not betraying con¬ fidences, for Reggie made this state¬ ment before Elizabeth and Archie. He said that he would be very much re¬ lieved if you stood before the Bishop and said “I don’t” instead of “I DO.” PEGGY: He did, did he? Oh, won’t I fix him? CHARLES: That can be attended to later, young woman. We have more important matters to discuss. You are not going to marry Reggie at all. You are going to marry me. PEGGY: Marry you? Why Charles, Mother would never consent. CHARLES : Is it really necessary ? Can’t we get out of this horrible mess by going away at once? Do you have to make a whole lot of explanations. To your family, for instance. PEGGY: Charles, dear, I'll go with you to the ends of the earth. She rises. Chas. starts impulsively toward her. No time for sentiment now. Let’s be prac¬ tical. Reggie’s wedding present, a new roadster, is in Lib’s garage. We’ll go in that. (Chas. rushes to her, takes both her hands and bends toward her. Eliz¬ abeth’s voice is heard in hall ) Watch out folks, we are coming. (Enter Elizabeth, Archie and Reggie.) ELIZABETH : I tried to keep them out, Peg. But Reggie got word from your house that you had flew the coop, and he’s gone batty. Archie happened along, and we reasoned with him. But he’s plum nutty. PEGGY (Again her old flap perish self and in high spirits) : Why, hello, OOQO<==DCOOC==)OOOC=Z) nnr> < > nnrx 3000 OOOCHDOOOC 43 FOUR PLAYS Reggie, old top, how’s the boy? ( Reggie is speechless .) ARCHIE: Come on, old boy, speak to the lady. ELIZABETH: Crank him up, Ar¬ chie, his battery is run down. REGGIE : Why—er—er—, Peggy, I thought you were sick y’know. PEGGY: Not on your life. I’m well and strong and hitting on all cy¬ linders. I’m ready to skip up the old aisle and have the foolish old ceremony over with. What about it? REGGIE: Why, Peggy, the physi¬ cians er—er a month. PEGGY: Oh, you want to put it off for a month, do you ? Ain’t he the gal¬ lant and impulsive lover? Just can’t wait for the day to come. ARCHIE: Reggie, old soul, I’m sur¬ prised at you. ELIZABETH: Naughty, naughty. Such a dear sweet little wife, too. You'll break her heart. PEGGY: No, it suits me exactly. Just think. Eor a month he must love, honor, and cherish me. When the fatal day arrives when we twain shall become one, I promise to love, honor and obey him. This is the life. I have a hus¬ band, but I am not a meek down-trod¬ den wife. Come here to me, Reggie. REGGIE (As if hypnotized, comes tozvard her) : But er-er Peggy. PEGGY: Now you shall see the new version of Bringing Up Father. George M’Manus will die of envy. Down on your knees, insect. REGGIE (Protesting but obeying) : 44 FOUR PLAYS But, Peggy, this is deucedly awkward, y’know. PEGGY ( Her heart softening as she looks at him) : No, I can’t carry it any further. Reggie, you are a good sport. Let’s get this over with. Let’s practice the ceremony now just as we will carry it out before the Bishop, when ever we can get with him. Come on, folks. Charles, you can be the Bishop. Lib, you’ll be my maid of honor. Archie shall be the best man. Put a wedding march on the victrola, Archie. (Archie puts the wedding march on the victrola. Chas. takes place in cen¬ ter of stage. Girls go into the hall. Archie and Reggie into the den. To the strains of the wedding march, enter Elizabeth, then Peg, Archie and Reggie enter from den. They take their pla¬ ces before Chas. _ Archie cuts off vic¬ trola.) PEGGY: Shoot me the question, Charles. CHARLES: Peggy Greys, do you take this man to be your wedded hus¬ band to love, honor and obey till death do us part? PEGGY: I DO NOT. All are silent looking at Reggie. REGGIE: Eh, what? You are not jesting, Peggy. I say (he looks at her solemnly. Then he smiles happily and holds her hand.) SHAKE. (Peg and Reggie shake hands solemnly.) PEGGY: So it’s all over, Reggie, and no hard feelings. It was pretty good while it lasted. But marriage would have spoiled it. You gave me a car for a wedding present, Reggie. It s 45 FOUR PLAYS down in Lib’s garage. I’ll send back the other things. REGGIE ( With grave dignity) : Keep them, Peggy, old dear, in memory of our little halfway wedding. I’m popping over to Europe tomorrow. Dash it, the car will be a wedding present for you and—er—is it er—er Chawles? Do you accept ? PEGGY: I DO. CHARLES: I DO!! (Quick Curtain.) —B. T. Woolf oik. C'OOOCZ=)OOOC=DOOOC=) QOOC-)000CZZ3000 none—-inan e - ) OfYl ( -> non <-y -wx->nnr>0 46 OOCXDCHDOCXXZZZ) OOC" FOUR PLAYS “At The Sign of The Sturgeon’s Head” A STORY-PLAY OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION IN THREE SCENES PERSONS OF THE PLAY In the Order of Their Appearance FORTUNE—Negro lodge-keeper at Chicora Place. MISS NANCY PAISLEY—An orphaned patriot maid. MAJOR JOHN JAMES—Of Marion’s Partisan Brigade. COMMODORE ARDIESOFF, R. N.—Newly appointed Brit¬ ish commandant at Georgetown. CAPTAIN BALLENTYNE, R. A.—Aide to Ardiesoff, like¬ wise a new arrival. HOPKINS—Orderly to Ardiesoff (he does not appear on the stage.) CAPTAIN ADAMS—Of General Washington’s Staff. COLONEL PETER HORRY—Close friend of Marion. OSCAR—Negro servant to Marion. GENERAL FRANCIS MARION—The celebrated partisan leader. CAPTAIN POSTEL—One of Marion’s trusted officers. PETER BROCKINGTON—Tory, maternal uncle and guar¬ dian of Nancy; he keeps “The Sturgeon’s Head” at George¬ town. 1st. BRITISH OFFICER. 2nd. BRITISH OFFICER. 3rd. BRITISH OFFICER. SENTRIES. TAVERN LOITERERS. NOTE: The author wishes to acknowledge the interest shown in his work by Mr. IV. IV. Boddie, President of The Williamsburg Historical Society, and by the authorities at the Charleston Library and Museum, without whose help he would have been unable to obtain the necessary historical materia 47 FOUR PLAYS In yet another way he is indebted to Prof. E. J. Erwin and Mr. H. K. Russel, whose council has been invaluable. “At the Sign of the Sturgeon s Head" does not purport to be a history, it was written in an attempt to picture the life of Marion's men and their home folk. But in building up the story only such events were used as have same standing in history or legend, admitted that in some cases they were changed a bit as a matter of dramatic expediency. Especially did the author feel free to ascribe events to characters in the play that did not actually happen to them, but to similar contemporaries in similar situations. William Cullen Bryant's “Marion s Men” should be given as a prologue before the first scene. Descriptions of costumes are omitted, for they would be valueless unless given in greater detail that space permits. SCENE I. SCENE: The gatekeeper’s lodge of Chicora Place, the home of John With¬ erspoon, Williamsburg District, South Carolina. A small rude room with walls of hewn logs; low ceiled. Door at left opens to show gate. There is a rude lire place to the right. There is a rude bench before the window at the rear over which there is an Indian quiver with a bozv and arrozv. A table with two rude stools occupies the center of the room. Several completed zvithe Baskets are piled downstage at the right. An uncompleted basket is on the table. TIME: Mid-afternoon of a June day, 1781. (When the curtain rises the lodge is empty. Enter FORTUNE mumbling. FORTUNE hangs key on wall to right 48 >000<33>OOOCIZ>OOOQ FOUR PLAYS 0000<==5000C==30CXDC==) 000C==3000C - 3000 OOOC-)f m- > nnr »-. 0 / awrf seating himself on stool at table places uncompleted basket on floor and proceeds to weave. He faces door. Enter NANCY PAISLEY and JOHN JAMES. FORTUNE looks up and makes as if to rise. With a wave of her hand NANCY stops him). NANCY: Up and to the house with Mum Mary. Major James and I will keep the gate until Cousin John returns. FORTUNE: Y’as mam, Mis’ Nan¬ cy, sho’ will. Dat oman must hab sum vittles sav’ up fo’ me, she mout’. (Ris¬ es, places uncompleted basket on pile and goes out). (Nancy seats herself on stool va¬ cated by FORTUNE and motions JAMES to the other. They face across the table and turn towards audience as the action requires. JAMES’ admira¬ tion for NANCY is apparent.) JAMES (casting about for a suit¬ able opening) : ’Tis all of six months since last I saw you, Nancy, and they seemed as six years. Remember how last December, when we sat here, we promised to see each other every week? NANCY (Non-committally, her thoughts are not on the present) : Yes. JAMES (Trying another approach) : Why all the bother about the gate ? NANCY: British and Tories and Regulators—’twere not for the gate we’d never draw a peaceful breath. You see— JAMES: Ah! ’Tis a dastardly crowd they are to worry old men. and women. Soldiers ?— Bah !— thieves and cutthroats, murderers and barn¬ burners. The country is red and smok- ___„ - .nrv-x ——>000 rvY v i nnn i i nonrr^DOQO dZDOOOCZDOOOO 49 FOUR PLAYS QCX30CZ3000<-?OOOC 3000C ing from Santee to Lynches. Brave they are to burn and pillage. But e’en when Marion gets after them they fly. (His face lights up) But ay, that’s a man for you, Nancy. The Swamp Fox they call him, and there is not his like in the colonies. Didst ever see him ? NANCY: No. The general has nev¬ er honored Georgetown with a visit. JAMES: Some day he will and un¬ expected. He doesn't stand back for the lack of an invitation. And where might that Tory uncle of yours live? If the fates are kind I’ll ride with Marion. NANCY: Uncle Peter now keeps “The Sturgeon’s Head’’ on Front Street. 'Tis a right smart place what with the gallant officers. (A slight shrug). JAMES: Gallant officers—bah!— red-coated cut-throats. Did one ever dare to speak to you ? NANCY ( Mischieviously ) Cer¬ tainly—and why not? JAMES (Ignoring query — rough¬ ly) : I’ll wring the cur's neck. NANCY: Captain Ballentyne is no cur. JAMES: And who might he be? NANCY: A captain in His Maj¬ esty’s forces—lately arrived from Eng¬ land and personal aide to Ardiesoff, the commandant. A right fine gentleman he is and well-spoken too. Told me once that I was the prettiest lass in the col¬ onies (With spirit). JAMES (Now jealous. In all seri¬ ousness) : And did'st slap his impu¬ dent face? NANCY: No. JAMES: What! 50 FOUR PLAYS (A moment’s silence) JAMES ( Moodily ) : Seems that thou hast a right fine time in Georgetown with your Tory uncle and officer gal¬ lants—a fine time, Mistress Nancy, a fine time (sarcastically ). NANCY: Yes, sometimes—but not always. JAMES (interested) : Why not al¬ ways. NANCY: Some of the officers are hateful. There’s a drunken old Major, Clewes by name, who tries to make love to me—ugh !—but not so bad as Com¬ modore Ardiesoff the new commandant —he’s a beast. JAMES: Would to God I could throttle him. NANCY: And then there’s Uncle Peter. JAMES: What of Uncle Peter? NANCY: He makes me tend bar as if I were some common barmaid— and I hate him— I hate him— JAMES: Bad cess to him. NANCY: At first I didn’t mind so much. And then he tried to make me play the coquette with the officers— said that it would make the place pop¬ ular. I refused.' He scolded and cuff¬ ed me— but you can’t order a woman to coquette. If I had to tend the bar I had to—but—no more. JAMES: The cur! ’Tis a sweet hanging he would make. (To NANCY) Why don’t you leave him? NANCY: He is my legal guardian, and you know that I have no other rela¬ tive over here except Cousin John. 51 FOUR PLAYS JAMES: Why not stay with him then ? NANCY: I would like to, but I dare not for he would surely come and get me. Cousin John says that the British law is enforceable here. JAMES: Come with me then? NANCY: Are you my brother that I should flee to you ? JAMES : But you promised— NANCY: I promised to wait. JAMES: Haven’t we waited long enough ? NANCY: No. Where would you take me? To the swamps? Impossi¬ ble. And if you carried me to Indian Town who would take care of me while you rode with Marion? JAMES: I could leave the armv. NANCY: ( With spirit) Me a'de¬ serter’s wife—never ! Fie on you, John James. (A moment’s silence) NANCY ( Pitying the man’s grief) : You were to tell me of Marion—the Swamp Fox as the officers call him. JAMES ( Brightening a hit) : Yes. But where should I begin? There is much to tell. NANCY: I did hear the officers speak of the affair at the Lower Bridge near to the Town at the King’s Tree. JAMES: Ay, yes—that was a fight to warm the cockles of your heart. NANCY ( Impatiently) : I know ’twas a fight—but how did it begin, and how did it end, and how did the middle look ? JAMES ( Once more in good humor) Well, you see it started when Lord Wat- 52 FOUR PLAYS ^OOOC=DOOOd=DOOO C=300CX=DOOOQ son took a notion to move toward the Cheraws. He left Fort Watson and coming down the Santee to Murray’s Ferry moved toward Black River. Our force was small at the time, the Gen¬ eral having allowed many of the men to return home to plant the crops, so the best we could do was to harass the Red Coats from every bay and thicket. We fell back till we reached the Low¬ er Bridge across the Black River just below the Town at the King’s Tree. And there we faced a problem, for you will remember that there is a road to the left leading to Georgetown or the fer¬ ries below, and we had not men enough to guard both roads. The General threw all of us across the road to Georgetown. For a while Watson followed and then he wheeled and made for the bridge! We could not intercept him. And then I looked and there was the general mak¬ ing across fields for the river with his horse at full tilt. We guessed his pur¬ pose and fell in behind him. The river was up with the spring rains but our horses made it and then the dash for the bridge, end. The unsuspecting British were coming up slowly. The General gave me forty musque- teers and told me to burn the bridge. McCottry and his rifles were to. cover our attempt. McCottry posted his men well; and every time a red coat showed over the bluff there would be a crack and one less red coat. They, brought up cannon, but the Riflemen picked off the gunners and soon we had the bridge set and could retire— NANCY (Her true feelings reveal- 53 FOUR PLAYS Qoocx->OOOC->OOQ CZZ) oocx— anno c—-> nnni nnn i - > nnr x - i nnn i - i nnn c twg themselves ) : But weren’t you in danger ? JAMES: A bit. NANCY: Oh! John! JAMES ( Brightening considerably) : What of it? Soldiering for Marion is no easy task. Would you have me a coward ? NANCY. No. JAMES: Well. NANCY: Not a coward, John— never—but be careful for my sake. Re¬ member—I’m waiting. JAMES (His eyes shining) : Nancy! (They '.start to embrace. Inhere is a sound of hoof-beats off-stage). JAMES (Stopping and listening) : Hoofbeats ! The Witherspoons went in a carriage! NANCY: Yes, quick, John, the window! (JAMES rushes to window and looks out). JAMES (Turning head) : Redcoats *—three of them ! NANCY: John — here, quick! (JAMES turns from window). NANCY (Pointing to window oppo¬ site to where he is standing) : Out the window and away! JAMES: And leave you? NANCY: Yes. JAMES: Never (Reaches toward pistol). NANCY: John go—go for my sake —if they catch you here (has arms over his shoulders ). JAMES: If they catch you here alone ? ? NANCY: I’m not afraid—go ! JAMES: Never. QooocrzDOOCK ? nno c i nnr n i rmnyi f —> rxv-> < c=>ooo<_ 54 FOUR PLAYS NANCY ( Looking zvildly about room. The hoof beats drazv closer) : Quick, John, back of those baskets (Points). Down low. If they mean no harm all’s well—if they don’t— (JAMES springs back of baskets as there is a loud knock on the gate. Re¬ moves pistols from holsters and cocks them). BAEEENTYNE (Outside): Open in His Majesty’s name. (NANCY takes key from hook and goes out. There is a sound of Key turning and gate opening). BALEENTYNE (Outside. Sur¬ prized) : You here, Mistress Nancy? NANCY (Outside): Captain Ball- entyne —(A moment) —Commodore Ar- diesoff! ARDIESOEE (Outside): The same —we’ll go in. (Enter ARDIESOFE, BAELEN- TYNE and NANCY). ARDIESOFF examines room, is intensely interested in Indian bow and quiver of arrows that hang over the zmndozv. NANCY and BALEENTYNE move toward the cen¬ ter of the room). BALEENTYNE : And are you keep¬ ing the gate by your own little self, Mis¬ tress Nancy? NANCY (Coldly): Yes. (ARDIE¬ SOEE turns and an evil look over spreads his face). (A moment’s silence) NANCY: Please state your errand. BAEEENTYNE (Bowing) \ Your pardon, Mistress Nancy. I’m search¬ ing for one John James, a notorious 55 0OOOC=>OOOC=Z>OOO' FOUR PLAYS member of Mr. Marion’s band. Have you seen or heard aught of him? NANCY ( With effort) : No. BALLENTYNE: Now that’s pass¬ ing strange, for the report is that he’s around these parts. NANCY ( With spirit ): No—I’ve not laid eyes on him—but perhaps Cou¬ sin John has— he is down at Blue Hall, the Skinner’s place. (ARDIESOFF remains quiet at window but turns and list ens ). BALLENTYNE: Many thanks, Mistress Nancy, I’ll to Blue Hall and see your Cousin ( Starts for door but turns when about half-way). BALLENTYNE: When will we have the pleasure of again seeing you at “The Sturgeon’s Head”? NANCY ( Stamping foot) : Never, I hope. BALLENTYNE {He has forgotten ARDIESOFF; with questioning look in his eyes, he bows) : Again your par¬ don, Mistress Nancy. Turns to leave) ARDIESOFF ( With bravado, leer¬ ing at NANCY) : Not so fast, Cap¬ tain, up to the house and have Hopkins place a copy of the proclamation on the door. Damme, they’ll know my Lord Howe’s orders. And don’t hurry. (With ugly leer at Nancy) We’ve am¬ ple time to make Elson’s place ere night falls—even so don’t be too long. Damme if I want to be out on the roads after night, Mr. Marion might be around. (JAMES smiles). BALLENTYNE: Yes, sir ( Salutes and goes out). {At the sound of ARDIESOFF’S 56 0OCX<=3OOOC==>OOO( FOUR PLAYS voice NANCY has whirled, and a look of fear spreads over her face. As the full significance of the situation dawns her fear is intensified.) BALLENTYNE ( Outside ) : Hop¬ kins ! HOPKINS ( Outside ) : Yes, sir. BALLENTYNE ( Outside ) : Here, and bring a copy with you. HOPKINS ( Outside ) : Yes, sir. (ARDIESOFF has moved toward NANCY. With difficulty she suppress¬ es a scream. JAMES tightens the grip on his pistols). ARDIESOFF: And what ho, my pretty maid. Did’st repulse me in Georgetown, eh? But now (NANCY recoils in terror. JAMES rises up a hit) Well—come now—Pm waiting— just a maidenly buss. NANCY ( Terrified) : You beast— you— ARDIESOFF ( Surprised) : By the Lord Harry, does a barmaid speak so to an officer of His Majesty's Navy? I’ll teach you—( catches her zvrists —NAN¬ CY screams —JAMES rises up and sights pistol. He drops back as BALL¬ ENTYNE enters). BALLENTYNE (Suprised) : Com¬ modore Ardiesoff! ARDIESOFF ( Whirling about and raging) : What the— BALLENTYNE: Sir, shall I search the house for the rebel, James? ARDIESOFF: Yes,—and may you find the devil. Begone. BALLENTYNE ( Coolly) : And will the Commodore go also? ARDIESOFF' ( Explosively) : NO ! 57 FOUR PLAYS BALLENTYNE ( Coolly ) : In which case I must remain here, sir. ARDIESOFF (. Furiously ) : The Hell you will—Captain Ballentyne, you will proceed immediately to search the house. (BALLENTYNE does not move a muscle.) ARDIESOFF ( Sarcastically ) : Since when did juniors in His Majesty’s ser¬ vice begin to do as they see fit? Search the house. BALLENTYNE: Before I was an officer in His Majesty’s service, sir, I was a gentleman, and I hope I am still one. I will not leave you alone with Mistress Nancy. ARDIESOFF ( Seeing that he is los¬ ing) : I’ll have you court-martialed. BALLENTYNE ( Coolly and delib¬ erately) : To Hell with your court- martial. (A moment's strained silence) (In surly silence ARDIESOFF turns and leaves the room followed closely by BALLENTYNE. NANCY thanks him with her eyes as he passes. NANCY follows. Sound as of gate closing and key turning in lock. James replaces pis¬ tols and getting up moves toward door. Re-enter NANCY to meet JAMES. JAMES: Nancy! NANCY: John! (They embrace) AS THE CURTAIN FALLS. SCENE II SCENE: Marion's camp on Snow Island. A Carolina forest of the low- country in the summertime, there is lit¬ tle or no underbrush. There is a rude 58 FOUR PLAYS ooo C=XX)OC=XX)00 and weathered tent upstage center. En¬ trances through trees. TIME: Late afternoon of a mid- July day 1781. (When the curtain rises the stage is empty. Oscar is singing a negro spir¬ itual off-stage, left. Enter Colonel Peter Horry and Capt. Adams, talking ). ADAMS: I dare say, Colonel, you have few rivers to compare with the Santee. Believe me, ’tis as red and dirty as report has Wemyss’ Legion. HORRY: True to a degree, sir, but pray don’t compare our good Santee with those murdering cut-throats. ADAME: No offence intended, my dear Colonel, I assure you. HORRY: Freely granted, freely given, Captain—Come let’s be seated (They seat themselves on the logs). But to answer your original question: The Great Pee Dee is fully as large as the old Santee. It may sound a little strange to you if you should remember that vou crossed it as the Yadkin—a shallowish and turbulent stream—on your way down through North Caro¬ lina. Tomorrow you will see the Pee Dee in all its powerful majesty when we start our journey north. We’ll cross at Port’s Ferry and go up by Marion Court House along the route followed by Colonel Lee last April. ADAMS: True, Colonel. And am 1 to believe that I am now on an island in that self-same river? HORRY: To be sure, sir. ’Tis Snow’s Island we are on, and for many months has been our one safe rendez¬ vous. The way in is uncommon hard Oooc< 59 FOUR PLAYS OOOOC=DOOOC=DOOOC=D OOOC - >0000=3000 .dot h -i nn rn-m nn i-> nnn c for a Britisher; and convenient it is for us, for often they near harry us out o’ the land. ADAMS: As for the way in being uncommon difficult I believe you, for as we came in I thought to myself as how every turn looked as every other— enough to puzzle a Frenchman. But now I say, Colonel, if we are on an island truly I must have slept as we passed over the surrounding water ! HORRY: If you slept on the back of that nag it speaks well for your abil¬ ity sir, for I dare say his bones did rat- r le as a Drum Corps on parade. ADAMS: ’Twere not so bad as all that—but, ay, 'twas bad enough! HORRY: Where we crossed the swamp is covered only in flood time— that is except the small run which you will remember. But to the north and east the Pee Dee is pretty wet and to the North and West Lynches is scarce¬ ly less so; to the South—from which di¬ rection we came—the swamp is under water only at times. Remember, sir, that the island lies just below the junc¬ tion of Lynches with the Great Pee Dee. ADAMS: True, I'd almost forgot¬ ten it—and Colonel, I was likewise about to forget that this is a military camp, for ’pon my word there are few military about. HORRY: True, Captain, and yet methinks that if the need were great I could gather quite a few men from over on the river bank and up in the trees. ADAMS: Trees? HORRY: And why not? Scouts in trees have a wondrous long eyesight. '60 FOUR PLAYS 0OOCK=DOOOC=3OOOC And yet just now the forces are few. Witherspoon is out to capture the sup¬ ply train that moved from Georgetown yesterday on its way to the Cheraws— and, Captain, may the Fates treat him well for our supplies are near to van¬ ishing. McCottry and his rifles are up above the Town at the King’s Tree, near to Tarcote,—there were tidings that the British might move south from Camden; the General is off to meet the scouts from the Georgetown road. Oscar! OSCAR ( Outside ) : Yas Sah— (enters from the left). HORRY: When’s the General ex¬ pected ? OSCAR: Spec’ him ’on set ob sun. HORRY: That will do (OSCAR leaves grinning) He says that the Gen¬ eral should be in by sundown ( looks at sky) —which is to say soon—( Con¬ tinues to look to the right) —My word, a prisoner! ( They rise). ( Enter at right JAMES with BAL- LENTYNE, his prisoner, blind-folded. JAMES is jubilant; BALLENTYNE is sad and apprehensive ). JAMES ( Cheerfully) : Good after¬ noon, sir. ( Saluting HORRY, who acknowledges the salute). HORRY: Major James, Captain Adams ( They salute and bow). The Major is one of the most daring of the younger officers. JAMES : Tush, Colonel, much ease is affecting other than your form. I report Captain Ballentyne as a prisoner of war. He and that precious Ardie- soff were out again with a small party. Happened to see them down near “The 61 FOUR PLAYS Red House” and managed to bag one of them ; Ardiesoff, worse luck,—you re¬ member the incident at the Wither¬ spoons’ last month—, was too quick for me. HORRY: Very good as it is, Major, but revenge would have been sweet, eh ? Remove the bandage (JAMES removes the bandage from BALLENTYNE) — Your word as an officer and a gentle¬ man not to absent yourself from the camp until General Marion returns. BALLENTYNE: My word sir. (Turns to go). HORRY (Kindly) : Sit with us, sir. (BALLENTYNE looks his thanks. Looking toward ADAMS) Captain Adams of General Washington’s staff. (ADAMS and BALLENTYNE bow a bit stiffly. BALLENTYNE sits apart and says nothing. He is sad and down¬ cast) . ADAMS : Why the blindman’s buff, my dear Colonel ? HORRY: A constant practice of ours, sir, to all except our own number. The way in is difficult, but it could be learned, and we are taking no chances. (Enter from the left GENERAL MARION followed by CAPTAIN POSTEL, in the garb of a back woods¬ man. The adoring OSCAR brings up the rear. HORRY, ADAMS, JAMES and BALLENTYNE rise. All salute except BALLENTYNE. MARION acknowledges the salute). HORRY: General, Captain Adams (MARION and ADAMS salute and bow. ADAMS wonders at POSTEL’S CXXXXZT3(DC)OCZrDOOOCZ=3 nnn < -i nnnc—annr toooc—3QOQQQO czZDCKyoczZDOOOQ 62 FOUR PRAYS queer garb). The > Captain has been out on a little scouting expedition. MARION: We have awaited your coming with interest, Captain, and hope that you have had a pleasant journey and not too much of Horry’s foolish¬ ness. ADAMS: A pleasant journey and an interesting as well I assure you, sir. HORRY (To'Marion) : James has a prisoner, sir. Captain Ballentyne. MARION : ArdiesofFs aide, eh. (to JAMES) If thou hadst been a bit quick¬ er the old bird might have been caught —but better this than none. JAMES: Sorry it is I am, sir, but he was too quick for us. MARION (To BALLENTYNE): Captain Ballentyne! BALLENTYNE: Yes, sir. MARION : Your word as an officer and a gentleman that no more will you bear arms against the United States of ^Vmcric^ r BALLENTYNE : My word, sir. MARION: An escort to George¬ town will be furnished you on the mor¬ row. (As BALLENTYNE starts to move off, kindly) Sit with us, Captain. If it suits your convenience, sir, to re¬ main for a short period, I shall be glad of your company to dinner. (BALLEN¬ TYNE’S eyes express his thanks, he bozos slightly and seats himself). MARION (To OSCAR): How is supper ? OSCAR (Grinning): Ready, sah. MARION: Good, bring it in. OSCAR (still grinning) : Yas sah. (Exit left and blozvs conch. Marion 63 FOUR PLAYS and the others seat themselves down¬ stage). MARION (to HORRY): How goes everything ? HORRY: Nothing unusual, sir. MARION: What of the men? HORRY: Witherspoon reports that the train is moving slowly. He expects to close with it at dawn tomorrow. There is no report from McCottry. MARION: Luck to Witherspoon, for if he doesn’t succeed we will have only our wits—and they are poor pro- vender, eh? (Enter OSCAR grinning, with roast¬ ed sweet-potatoes on a pine bark platter, which he sets on a stump in the midst of the group and leaves). ADAMS: Your force is not large, General ? MARION: Yes and no. As a rule there are not over a hundred men with me; oftentimes there are less for when there is no need of them I send them back to their families and farms ( Enter OSCAR with cypress-knee bucket, and gourd dipper which he places on the ground near the potatoes and goes out left) but when there is need of them I have but to call and they come. MARION (Surveying group) : Gen¬ tlemen, I bid you eat. The fare is sim¬ ple, but hunger is an excellent sauce and ’tis wholesome, as Horry can testify (MARION looks at HORRY who is rather portly). (They eat. ADAMS is a bit surpris¬ ed, BALLENTYNE’S face is a stu- dy). MARION (Breaking silence, to AD- 64 )OOOdIDOOOdDOOOi FOUR PLAYS AMS) : General Washington seems to be doing well. His work all along has been excellent. Yet somehow that brush at Trenton appealed to me—re¬ minded me of our warfare down here; at him when he’s not looking and off before he has time to think. ADAMS: The commander-in-chief is truly a great leader. If he had but an army, the world would soon ring with his victories. He and von Steuben have done wonders, but the Congress is short on supplies and money. If he had but the latter, the last Redcoat would be leaving—and in a hurry. MARION: My observation, exact¬ ly, Captain. My constant hope is that he will get both the supplies and the money. When that day comes I hope that he will not forget the South for I truly believe that telling blows could be struck the enemy in this quarter. ADAMS: That such is General Washington’s intention I can assure you. In fact, it accounts for my pre¬ sence here. And what with the prom¬ ised French aid the help might not be so long in coming. MARION : I believe that the enemy should be pushed from all quarters. His heart is not so much in the war. And if we are but resolute and patient our time will come. ADAMS: It will come. Of that I am sure. But in the meantime the ser¬ vices of leaders like yourself are of in¬ estimable value to the country for were it not for them,oftentimes the faint flame of Liberty might flicker and die. Of the bravery of your officers and men the 65 FOUR PLAYS half cannot be said. Rest assured, sir, that General Washington shall have a full report concern—( All turn toward BALLENTYNE who has risen). BALLENTYNE ( With hesitance, feelingly) : Gentlemen, you will par¬ don a few words from a prisoner? (Silence gives assent; he continues). I am a free-born Englishman; my ances¬ tors were at Hastings and at Runny- Mede with the gallant Fitz-Walter. They fought for their rights, I would fight for mine, you are fighting for yours. May God remedy what of ill I have done your cause—I am glad that I was captured; my eyes have been opened. I know now that your cause is the right—how else could you endure such hardships? A real man— a true Englishman— would not fight against you. As for myself I would fight for you, but I cannot. This though I can do— in England I am not without in¬ fluence, it shall be used in your service; Pitt and Fox will have another staunch supporter. (BALLENTYNE stalks off into forest at left). (A moment's silence). ADAMS: A real Englishman for you, a true gentleman. MARION : The heritage of genera¬ tions forbids me to think too well of any Englishman, but that’s a true man,— aye—- a true gentleman (Reflectively). (The others have nothing to say). MARION: Horry, will you show Captain Adams and the Colonel the new bateau that Lynch brought in this after¬ noon. James, will you and Postel stay with me. 66 FOUR PLAYS <==3000cr=0000 HORRY: Yes, sir. ( Goes out with ADAMS at right). (MARION, JAMES and POSTER are close together down-stage at center) MARION (To JAMES) : Postel is just in from Georgetown. They began to suspect him and he had to leave. POSTEL: In a hurry, too. MARION: He did not get all the information I desired, especially as to the reinforsements Ardiesoff is expect¬ ing. I must have the information. Can you get it for me? I know the trip will be dangerous— the chances are against you, it is not in the line of duty, and to refuse will be no show of cowardice. JAMES ( Quietly hut firmly) : I will consider it a privilege, sir. MARION ( Warmly) : I thought as much —(to POSTEL) Will you post him as best you can; I’ll to my tent and prepare the papers. (MARION moves tozvard and enters tent). POSTEL: You’ll have to be careful, Major. ’Tis a pretty dangerous enter¬ prise but if—(JAME interrupts him). JAMES : None o’ that now. There is time and a plenty later. (POSTEL is surprised) Were you much about “The Sturgeon’s Head”? POSTEL ( Wonderingly ): A fair bit. JAMES: Did’st see Mistress Nancy Paisley ? POSTEL: Upon occasion. JAMES: Did'st speak with her? POSTEL: No. Our acquaintance is but the slightest and she knew me not in my disguise. There was no chance 67 FOUR PLAYS for a private conversation and disclos¬ ure. JAMES: Tell me, sir, did’st hear or observe aught of her condition? POSTEL (Beginning to under¬ stand) : She appeared well but wor¬ ried. Methinks ’tis her uncle that doth worry her for he continually scolds at her— once did I see him attempt to slap her (JAMES clenches his fists) and likewise did I see Ardiesoff, the brute of a sailor who is now comman¬ dant there, try to kiss her and— JAMES: I would go now, sir, were the danger multiplied a thousand fold (With emphasis and conviction). AS THE CURTAIN FALLS SCENE III. SCENE : The Public Room of (< The Sturgeon’s Head” a Tavern on Front Street, Georgetown,South Carolina. Two large tables and tzvo small occupy with the accompanying chairs tzoo-thirds of the room; the bar is to the left; a stair at end of bar leads upward; there is a door backstage at left zmth two windows at its right. When the door is opened the tavern’s sign can be seen. Through the windows can be seen the lighted houses on the opposite side of the street. TIME: About four days after the events of Scene II; it is early evening. (When the curtain rises four British officers, among whom is ARDIESOFF, are playing at cards at one of the large tables. * BALLENTYNE looks on. He is sad and morose. Tzvo old cronies play at checkers at the farther of the small tables. BROCKINGTON is be- 68 Ooooczzdoooczdooo FOUR PLAYS hind the bar. The hand is played and the cards are being shuffled). ARDIESOFF: A round, Host Brockington, and make it Gascon wine. BROCKINGTON : The rarest Gas¬ con it is, sir. ( Busies himself behind the bar). (The cards are dealt. BROCKING¬ TON places liquor on table; officers reach for the glasses; ARDIESOFF rises; BROCKINGTON stands aside). ARDIESOFF: To King George! (All rise and drink with hurrahs. Af¬ ter the toast is drunk they resume their scats). ARDIESOFF: And more, mine host—be quick about it. That wine is rarely good. BROCKINGTON : Aye, aye, sir. ARDIESOFF: Damme, man, no more o’ that; dost remind me of my decks, and reminding is not pleasant, that I’m here on shore for two months yet. (BROCKINGTON returns with the glasses filled). ARDIESOFF ( Rising) : To the success of our armies! ( All rise and drink amid louder hurrahs—that is all except BALLENTYNE who manages to pour his on the floor unobserved. The officers reseat themselves and the cards are resumed. The play at checkers con¬ tinues all the while). 1st Officer (To BALLENTYNE): Why so silent, Bally ? 2nd Officer (A subaltern, he is young and homesick) : For a truth thou should'st be glad to be out o’ this mess —a sight o’ Lunnon town were better to me than the rarest wine. 69 FOUR PLAYS ARDIESOFF (to 2nd Officer, with an ugly leer) : Thou speakest ill, sir. (Signals for more liquor) Damme, why do they let such as you in the Service? Better home and at thy mother’s apron strings. ( BROCKINGTON sets liquor before Ardiesoff and he drinks). But if dost desire home, why not try capture at the hands of Mr. Marion as did the brave ( turns tozvard BALLENTYNE with a sneer) and excellent Captain Baltfentyne? (Silence. ARDIESOFF drinks again. The cards are laid on the table). ARDIESOFF (To BALLENTYNE, the liquor is getting the better of him) : 'Twould seem as if he did capture thy tongue also. A parole— zounds— giv¬ en to a swamp-living wretch of an irre¬ gular. Damme, if thou didst want to fight, 'twere but a wasted breath. (BAL¬ LENTYNE does not deign to answer him). 3rd OFFICER: Well spoken, sir, and of a truth ’twere better acted on (looks meaningly at BALLENTYNE who ignores him. Cards are resumed). VOICE IN DISTANCE (off stage) : Eight o’clock and all’s well. BROCKINGTON: Nancy!— Nan¬ cy !! NANCY!!! (After a, moment NANCY appears on the stair). NANCY: Yes, sir. BROCKINGTON: Take the bar whilst I see to the kitchen. NANCY: I’ll not, sir. Did I not warn you yesterday? Dost think I am but a serving maid (Scornfully) to wait on these (Indicates officers with her hand). 70 0OOOC=DOOOC==)OOO' FOUR PLAYS (The cards are dropped and the offi¬ cers, until the exception of BALLEN- TYNE enjoy the sport). BROCKINGTON: Thou art but a Whig wench and none too good to wait upon the King’s officers. ( Officers laugh; BAKLENTYNE moves over toward her). ARDIESOFF: Well said, mine host. Well said. Bring her out. BROCKINGTON: Out and to the Commodore. NANCY: Sir, and art my uncle? BROCKINGTON: Thou saidest truly, and thy guardian too— give me none of thy sauciness, here ( Reaches toward her as if to catch her; NANCY tartly slaps him on the cheek; he at¬ tempts to return the blow. The officers enjoy the fun hugely). BALLENTYNE: None o’ that- let her be! BROCKINGTON: How now ( turn¬ ing )—you ( Scornfully )—. 1st OFFICER: Not so rash, Bal- lentyne. Stay not the fun. OTHER OFFICER: Right-o. BALLENTYNE (To BROCKING¬ TON) : Yes— it is I. Off, insolent dog! And quick (With meaning). BROCKINGTON: Now— BALLENTYNE: Off—I said. (Clenches fist. BROCKINGTON re¬ treats up the stair with a menacing look at BALLENTYNE). Mistress Nancy, will you honor us? (Motions toward the bar). (NANCY takes her place back of the bar. The play at cards is resumed. BALLENTYNE tries to engage NAN- 71 FOUR PLAYS CY in conversation, but she pays no at¬ tention to him, busying herself ivitli the bottles and kegs in the bar. Getting no encouragement Ballentyne turns wear¬ ily and moves toward his chair. He seats himself unnoticed by the other players who are engrossed in the game. As he sits, his face is toward the door. At the sound of the opening of the door, he looks up casually and meets the eye of JAMES, who enters in the garb o* a backwoodsman. The recognition is mutual. BALLENTYNE starts to rise from his chair and opens his mouth as if to denounce JAMES, but desists and settles back with a shake of the head. He continues to watch JAMES, who moves coolly toward the bar. NANCY barely suppresses a scream. Her eyes follow JAMES’ every movement). JAMES: A mug o’ Jamaiky rum, mum. (At sound of his voice some of the officers look up but see only a com¬ mon backwoodsman and say nothing. NANCY serves him. They appear to talk across the bar. The hand is played and the cards are laid on the table). ARDIESOEF: A round, my pret¬ ty miss, and let it be the best o’ Scotch. Eight glasses my pretty one, eight to warm the cockles of our hearts—you (to checker players )—you (to JAMES) —come taste good liquor for once in your lives. (The checker-players move with alacrity, JAMES more slowly, glancing at NANCY and raging. NANCY draws liquor and sets it on the table before ARDIESOFF. The check¬ er players and JAMES have drawn OOOCOOOCIZDOOOCZZD CXXK=Z;CQ0C-^(300C000(-?OOCK-rOOOO <- — ?OOQ <- mnru - x-mpQ 72 FOUR PLAYS C30000000G near. ARDIESOFF rises. The check¬ er-players reach for the liquor). ARDTKSOFF: Hold, knaves! Wouldst be before thy betters? Hold. (They cozver hack). ARDIESOFF: Drink if ye be loyal King’s men for I propose: (Officers rise. Hands are laid on the glasses) “The eternal confounding of every d- rebel’’ (Officers raise glasses, amid cheers). JAMES: Confound Parliament! D-the King! (All stand hack aghast. NANCY screams. ARDIESOFF makes as if to draw his sword. JAMES is quicker and floors him with a chair. JAMES leaps hack toward door and jerks pistol from within his coat and levels it at the officers). JAMES : Gentlemen, will you please replace your swords (The half-drawn weapons are replaced. An officer moves). Likewise I would suggest that you do not move—the same applies to your hands (ARDIESOFF groans). JAMES (To NANCY, talking quick¬ ly hut quietly as he hacks tozuard the door) : My horse is just outside—she will carry double—open the door (NANCY moves to obey. BROCK- INGTON appears on the stair). (NANCY returns to JAMES and with his left arm around her waist they go out closing the door with a slam. They are seen to run past the zvindows. A moment and there is a sound as of fast receding hoof-heats. Officers awake as if from trance. Checker-play¬ ers are paralyzed with fear. FIRST iryy y-r nn <-a nno mXX3Q r~> OOOC 73 FOUR PLAYS OFFICER rushes to door and opens it.) 1st OFFICER: The Guard! VOICE (A-far-off) : Halt! (The hoof-heats continue, receding. Farther off, a shot. The hoof-beats continue. The FIRST OFFICER turns from the door ). 1st. OFFICER: D-, they are in the swamp by now. (Turns toward au¬ dience and moves to where others are gathered about the body of ARDIB- SOFF. BROCKINGTON is hasten¬ ing dozvn the stairs. BALLENTYNE stands a bit aloof.) AS THE CURTAIN FALLS. —THE END.— 74 FOUR PLAYS x)ooc=doooc=>oooO “Uncle Tommy's Harem" CHARACTERS In Order of Appearance. ACHILLES AGAMEMNON BROWN, a negro servant. DR. THOM AS LAWTON, A.B., Ad.A., Ph.D., Litt., a pro¬ fessor of Hellenic Culture. ED LAWTON, his nephew. HALIDE KHALED ZIA BEY, of the late Sultan s harem. The rising of the curtain discloses the study of the typical college professor. The most conspicuous article of furni¬ ture is a large desk on the rear zvall, right, zvith a bookcase adjacent to it. and also against the rear zvall, left. In the bookcase are a number of forbid¬ ding looking volumes. Almost in the center of the stage is a small table laden zvith books ana magazines in hopeless disarray. Two chairs are in close prox¬ imity to the table. To the left rear of the center table and within easy reach of the bookcase is a comfortable arm¬ chair that shozus evidence of faithful service. Along the wall, left, is a sofa, not in the best of condition and at the present moment furnishing a resting place for a golf club, several books and a newspaper. To the right-front is an¬ other chair. On the floor are a num¬ ber of scattered papers. On the wall is a curious combination of prints of state¬ ly Gods, goddesses, Acropoli, and Par- thenons; and pictures of Athletic teams with here and there a pair of beaming eyes looking down on the scene from 75 Oococzdoooctidcooc FOUR PLAYS )OOOC—)OOQ<-3000II some magazine print. A number of miscellaneous articles scattered here and there shozv the lack of the magical fen ,- inine touch. Dust is present in con¬ spicuous quantities. The entrance is to the right-rear. The rise of the curtain shows the negro servant, Agamemnon, brushing around over the Professor's papers, singing to himself. Not being very at¬ tentive to his work he is doing more harm than good. The Professor enters just as Agamemnon brushes a set of papers off the desk. He is a scholarly man of about 40 years. The infrequen¬ cy of his contact with the zvorld has given him a mild, abstracted appearance. His eyes are kindly tho a bad nearsight¬ edness causes him to squint thru his gold-rim glasses. His head is slightly bald. His baggy clothes and far from neat appearance are a sign either of carelessness or of absorption in more vital matters. PROF (with a look of dismay ) :What are you doing, Agamemnon ? How often have I told you never to distuib my papers. AG. Lawdy, Marse Tom, the dust am jes so thick dat I— PROF: Not another word, Aga¬ memnon. Look at these notes for my Lecture on the Mycenean Excavations. Scattered all over the place. Pick them up while I grade these examination pa¬ pers. (Prof, takes his seat while Aga¬ memnon picks up the papers). PROF: (to himself) Let me see. How did I word that first question? Ah, yes. “Name five masterpieces of Greek Lit- 76 FOUR PRAYS erature.” ( He reads from the paper vis¬ ibly straining to make out the writing). “Homer’s Illiad, Odyssey, Xenophon’s Anabasis, Homer’s Odyssey, and Illiad. (He carefully counts the names on his Ungers). Yes, that’s right. One-two- three-four-five. This young man, Has¬ kins, Agamemnon, realizes the inestim¬ able value that a course in Hellenic Cul¬ ture may do him. I’m sure that he is intensely interested because he is al¬ ways borrowing works to read as par¬ allel and on the last paper he wrote v!5 more words than was necessary and— why Agamemnon, he even told me that he would like to make 98 on the course. Such laudable ambition (in a reminiscent cent tone). Certainly Homer and yet I thing to say about ambition and yet I can’t recall—well, eh—and he has such admirable desires. Yes indeed, I must give him a good grade. If only all of my students wanted to learn like Haskins, and had such a prediction and propen¬ sity for the study of the civilization of these Greeks, who are the greatest peo¬ ple in the world and whose influence has spread everywhere. There is scarcely a restaurant or fruit stand in the coun¬ try whose proprietor is not some son of the land of Hercules and Homer—Why even Poe has written of the glory that is Greece. ’Tis a pity that they have deteriorated so but still their culture is preserved in these precious volumes (he glances fondly at the book-case) and thru my course in Hellenic Culture the youth of America can have access to it. (During these latter speeches Agamem¬ non has been practising hero-worship 77 FOUR PLAYS on the professor whom he evidently thinks is about the wisest man on earth) AG: Yes, sar, Marse Tom, you is certainly the'best man round dis here col¬ lege. But, say, what’s all dat got to do with dese har Turkeys you always talkin about. PROF: You see, Agamemnon, the Turks inhabit part of the land where the Greeks used to live, and so Pm in¬ terested in them too. AG: Is dat so ? That sho am pecu¬ liar. And you say you am interested in dem Turkey’s just because dey live over by the Greeks. PROF: Not entirely, not entirely. They are a very interesting people too, and have many peculiar customs. Why Agamemnon, the Turks are not satis¬ fied with one wife but some of them have a thousand. That’s what you call a harem. AG: Good lor’, Marse Tom, a thou¬ sand women. Well, that beats all that Achilles Agamemnon Brown has ever heard tell of. (He shakes his head in¬ credulously, and returns to his work dropping a volume or two as he tries to dust the bookcase. The professor returns to his papers. In a moment a sound of footsteps is heard and a young man enters. He is dressed in the ordinary garb of the col¬ lege student who does not care to be regarded as a dude. His trousers would be better for a pressing. His shirt is of khaki flannel, with a regulation black tie. He wears a letter szveater, and a rah-rah hat set jauntily on the back of his head. The latter, strange 78 FOUR PLAYS ooo C=D00OC=Z)O0O0 to say, does not seem to detract from his manly appearance. He steps quick¬ ly over to the Professor apparently aware that he is annoying him. The latter lays down his papers with an air of exasperation). ED: Hi, Uncle Tommy. What der yer think about the Harvard game to¬ night, huh? Tiger ought to beat ’em good, if you ask me. (Ag. has knocked over another volume). PROF. (To the servant) : That will do, Agamemnon. You can clean up an¬ other time. (To Ed remonstratively) Edgar, how many times have I told you that my Christian name is not Tommy but Thomas, and also that I haven’t any time to attend—ah—basketball contests, and— ED: But say, uncle, weren’t the Greeks quite the stuff on these Athle¬ tics. A Dago down the street told me that over at the Olympic games the Greeks were all the cheese in track. He said they cleaned up everything and won the world championship 2500 years ago PROF: Yes, but, ah, in those days —eh—the athletics were closely con¬ nected with the social and educational activities of the people. Herodotus, even, read his history of the world at the Olympic games in—eh—450 B. C. Ah, athletics were clean in those days. ED: Yes, I know everybody would be tickled to death if Vachel Lindsey, say, were to give us a selection or two about Simon Legree and the Devil dur¬ ing the halves of the baseball game. But I can’t see the use of bothering with 79 FOUR PLAYS such a subject as Hellenic Culture any¬ how. Not for mine. Too ancient l PROF: Why, there are numerous reasons. Homer is— ED: Yes, there are numerous rea¬ sons why fellows take courses. Now and then a guy really wants to learn it— about five per cent, say. Another fifty per cent need the subject for graduation and the rest pick up the crips. PROF: What? ED: A crip. One you don’t have to put out on. PROF :(In despair) : “Crip” and “put out.” What language for a college man to use. ED ( Ignoring him and taking up his former narrative) : Yes, there are some crip courses in college. I knew a pro¬ fessor of—eh—Italian once who never counted dailies and graded perfect on a review by leaving the place blank, and the easiest way to get 100 was to get sick and be absent, and then he was pretty nearsighted and {He glances over at the professor to see if he recognizes the portrait as his own, but the look of mingled innocence and resignation on the professors face betrays no sign of suspicion. Ed. continues in a reminis¬ cent tone) and all the fellows read mag¬ azines in class, and when they had some¬ thing else to do they would cut and tell the prof, that his five minutes were up, and they didn’t think he was coming and—that’s why some fellows take Ital¬ ian and (to himself) Hellenic culture. PROF. (He has been so absorbed in thought that he has only half heard the above and completely failed to recog- 80 OOOCK==>OOOC==>OOOi FOUR PLAYS nize the portrait ) : Yes, I suppose there are a few professors like that; but Hel¬ lenic Culture ( His face brightens ) is a course of such absorbing interest that it attracts more than I can easily handle ; but then when the youths of America are so eager to learn of the glories of old Greece I just haven’t the heart to turn them away. ( The professor turns back to his papers. Enter Agamemnon with a Police Ga¬ zette). AG: Marse Ed, here’s dat Police Gazette you as’ me to get for you. ED ( Hurriedly ) : Sssh (He takes the Gazette.The professor has looked up at Agamemnon’s zvords but has turned back to his papers. He evidently has difficulty in making out some word for he takes off his glasses and searches for a handkerchief to wipe them off. He is apparently unable to find one). PROF: Ah, me, I must have a hand¬ kerchief to clear my grasses because I can’t make out whether this word is D-e-c-i-e-v-e or D-e-c-e-i-v-e and it is always best to take off five points for a misspelled word. {He lays dozen his pa¬ pers and crosses to the door. A look of suspicion passes over his face as he notices the paper Ed is reading) Edgar, what paper is that? ED ( Innocently) : The Christian En¬ deavor World, uncle. PROF. ( Still more innocently) : Dear me, I wonder why they’ve started print¬ ing it on pink paper. ED {He watches the professor go out with a good-natured smile, and then turns to Agamemnon) : Uncle Tommy FOUR PLAYS ^(OOOCZDOCXX- X300cr~>000 <-x*mrw-mmV) is a pretty good old scout, but this darn Hellenic Culture is eating on him more and more. AG: Hit shore am the truth, Mister Ed. He’s gittin wuss and wuss. He don’t think of nothin’ but dis here Hel- lacious culture. ED: I honestly believe he has for¬ gotten all about the charities he used to be interested in and all the beggars that he used to keep in pocket money. They’d all starve now if they waited for him to help them. AG: You’re shore speakin the truth, Mister Ed. He don’t care about no¬ thin lessen it’s about seven i thousand years old. What he needs, Mister Ed, is a wife. ED : A what ? Why, Agamemnon, Uncle Tommy would faint if a woman spoke to him. But, by George, you’re right. If a woman had gotten hold of him young enough, she might have kept him from being so nutty, because I know the old codger’s all right at heart. Just has to be mixed up in some row about wooden horses in Troy or what time the sun rises in Greece. AG: Yas, sah. He don’t talk about nothin’ but dem Greeks cept’n when he gets to talking about them Turks. ED: Yes, I believe he gets absorbed in the Turks just because they live over by the Greeks. Why he studies Turk¬ ish customs like I do the sporting col¬ umns. AG: Yassah, he told me a heap bout dem Turks. He was jes a minute ago telling me bout dem Turks not bein’ satisfied wid one wife but havin’ bout Ooooc >OOOC -) OOQC 82 FOUR PLAYS a thousand. What do yer call dem things, Mister Ed? ED: Harems, Agamemnon {laugh¬ ing). That’s what Uncle Tommy needs. A harem certainly would wake him up. {At this juncture the professor enters with his glasses in hand busily rubbing them with his hanker chief. Under his arm he carries a newspaper) . Evening paper is not out yet is it? PROF ( Grudingly ) : Of course it’s the evening paper. ED: Lemme see. {He takes the paper). Why, uncle, that’s March 8th and this is the 31st. PROF {Hating to admit his absent- minded mistake) : Well, isn’t the news there just the same? And anyhow I see an article on Turkey—an intensely interesting people; positively absorbing {He seats himself in his favorite chair and starts reading the article. Aga¬ memnon who has been making a pre¬ tence of cleaning up now exits. Ed walks over and glances over his uncle's shoulders. The professor looks up with a gesture of annoyance and burrows deeper down into his chair. Suddenly Ed. grabs the paper with an exclama¬ tion , Gosh, this looks interesting. He commences to read. The professor is dumfounded at what he regards as an unpardonable breach of etiquette, but during the reading of the article inter¬ est triumphs over anger.) ED {Reading aloud) : SEEKING MATES FOR MEMBERS OF HAREM ALL SELECTED FOR THEIR 83 FOUR PLAYS BEAUTY, YOUTH AND FIGURE GIFTS TO THE SULTAN MUST FIND HUSBANDS OR THEY WILL STARVE Constantinople, March 5 (By the As¬ sociated Press) Rafet Pasha is trying to find husbands for 150 members of the former Sultan’s harem. The young women range in age from 17 to 35 years. All of them are penniless. Since the Sultan’s flight the govern¬ ment has been supporting these women but now it has decided that they must shift for themselves. Most of the wo¬ men are described as strikingly attract¬ ive. “It ought not to be difficult to find husbands or protectors for these wo¬ men”, said a prominent member of the Relief Commission here today. “They were all selected for their beauty, youth and figure. Most of them were gifts to the Sultan from Governors of the provinces. They have matchless com¬ plexions, dark eyes, and long chestnut- colored hair. All of them are extreme¬ ly loving and affectionate. “Since their imperial master has left them without support we must find husbands for them or they will starve. The interest of any charitable institu¬ tion, or any private benevolence in Am¬ erica would be appreciated. Communi¬ cations should be addressed to Dr. J. H. Albright of the American Near-East Relief Committee.” (At this juncture the professors face brightens and for a moment loses its scholarly cast.) 84 PROF: Old Jack Albright! Well, I declare! The last letter I had from him he didn’t mention trying to help these poor women. ED : Oh, uncle, buy me one. PROF ( For the moment he is the dignified upholder of the public morals and speaks sternly) : Young man, don’t be vulgar. (Ed is slightly taken aback by the professor's vehemence. The lat¬ ter takes the paper from Ed, and hold¬ ing it in his left hand strikes on it with his right for emphasis and begins in the tone of a prohibition lecture). Why, this indicating the paper) is a challenge to humanity, to the compassion of the world. The idea of the Sultan turning these poor women out of doors— ED: But uncle, I thought you al¬ ways said that harems were disgraceful. PROF: I did; but then this is even more dastardly—turning them out when be got tired of them and ( looking at the paper for a corroboration of his state¬ ment) and without a penny, too. ED: Oh, I don’t guess he got tired of them. I suppose they wanted too many hats, and candy and flowers. Gosh, maybe a harem full of flappers wouldn't keep a fellow broke. No won¬ der he turned ’em away without a penny. PROF ( Ignoring him) : Dastardly, I say, dastardly and heartless. Why no man with a heart could refuse to help them. If only I were over there and had a chance to do a little something my¬ self. It would be a true test of bro¬ therly love and Christian charity. Did not Socrates say, “To pity distress is FOUR PLAYS but human/' and somebody else, maybe it was Plutarch, said, ‘‘The charities of life are more than all ceremonies.” And Homer (He pauses in doubt ) certainly Homer has said something about com¬ passion. ED (Impatiently and with a hint of sarcasm) : Naturally, naturally. Plomer was a Greek. He MUST have had SOMETHING to say about EVERY subject. PROF: Edgar, that is entirely be¬ side the question. The thing under discussion is how any man with a soul could refuse to aid these heartbroken females. Pm sure Homer has some¬ thing to say about grieving, neglected, penniless women, thrown out into the cruel, cruel world. Why, it will be detrimental to their morals to say the least. If only I had a chance to help. ED (Still more impatiently ) : Why don’t you write to Albright for one. PROF (Enigmatically) : Maybe I shall. Maybe I shall. ED (Aside — mockingly) : Maybe I shall. Why a woman would scare you to death—and if you had to care for a woman just out of a Turkish harem; Gosh you’d even forget to meet that Hellenic Culture class; and I don’t ever remember you cutting a class since I’ve been around here. PROF (Ar gum entirely) : Of course not. When the student pays so much for a college education, it is inconsider¬ ate of a professor to deprive him of it. Why, it is little short of robbery; for the New England Association of Col¬ leges has computed that each class costs 86 FOUR PLAYS 'CXOOC=DOOOC=DCXDCO the student exactly—let me see— I think i f is, eh (A call outside, “Ed”, louder. “ED!”) ED {In disgust) : Oh, don’t strain yourself, uncle, let the Accounting class do it for you or see if Homer hasn’t something to say about it. {He turns to the door with the air of a victor). PROF: {Staring after him with a questioning look that seems to ask, “What is the college student coming to?”) But—eh—eh— ED {Turning around savagely) : Ah what you need is a woman; a wild wo¬ man to cheer you up a little—and a harem full of women wouldn’t hurt any. It IS a pity that Albright can’t sent you his harem to take care of. You might forget that Hellenic culture—ten sec¬ onds. {During the above speech Aga¬ memnon gets in a word.) AG: Mister Ed, a friend of yours wants to see you. PROF.: {Almost speechless) : But Edgar—eh— ED: And I haven’t any time to lis¬ ten to you now. Somebody wants to see me. PROF {He looks after the depart¬ ing figure as if trying to solve the prob¬ lem of the younger generation, and then turns to Agamemnon who has watched the latter portion of the argument in high glee) : Dear me, Agammnon, these young men have no soul, no compassion. What is the world coming to! How dis¬ respectfully Edgar spoke to me, and how slightingly he talks of these poor, for¬ lorn women. AG: Oh, Mister Ed don’t mean no 87 FOUR PLAYS harm, Marse Tom. He’s alius runnin’ on some foolishness. PROF ( Again looking up from his papers ) : I have half a mind to write Tack Albright, and tell him I can care for one of these forsaken creatures, if they are not accustomed to too much luxury. AG: You don’t mean you’s gwint- ter have a harem in dis house. We ain’t got no room for no thousand women. Why— PROF: What are you talking about, Agamemnon ? I simply mean that I would be responsible for her support. I could send her to the Associated Chari¬ ties or elsewhere. But then there are charities nearer home; a call for some¬ thing every day. Why these students have even approached me for a contri¬ bution to a fund to buy a tiger for a mascot to some athletic team. The idea! And I never go to a game. Such Tom¬ my rot! Such waste of time, ah me! AG: You don’t intend to insinuate that these here boys am goin’ to have a tiger aroun’ here. In dat case here’s where Agamemnon am done quit. PROF: Such foolishness, Agamem¬ non, of course they will have the tiger in a cage. But now I must finish these papers; but I might have to write Albright that I can take care of one of those poor ladies for him. (He turns again to his papers. Agamemnon is pottering around the room. Enter Ed with a cryptic smile. He glances speculatively over at the Prof, who shows decided annoyance at the interruption. Ed drops into a chair 88 FOUR PLAYS end picks up a ponderous volume and buries his head in it. The professor seems to be placated at actually seeing Ed studying. In a moment the bell rings. Ed jumps up and goes to see who is at the door. In a few seconds he returns, bursting excitedly into the room.) ED: Say, uncle, there is a swell looking Jane down there to see you. PROF (Taken aback): But, Edgar, I don’t know any lady named Jane. ED: I didn’t say her NAME was Jane. AG: Aside Mebbe dis am one of them thousand women Marse Tom am desirous of takin’ care of. PROF: But, Edgar, I don’t know of ANY lady who should want to see me. ED: Ah, I don’t know why she wants to see you either, but there she is. PROF (A shadow of wounded van¬ ity passes over his face at Ed’s vaords, but he starts to rise) : Well, I’ll go— ED: Oh don’t bother. Let Aga¬ memnon go. I think she has some sort of letter for you. (The professor is perceptibly curious and uncertain, but not exactly dis¬ pleased at the idea of a woman calling on him. Unconsciously he runs his hand thru his hair, feels his bald-spot and zvithdraws it quickly. Next, he arranges his tie and awkwardly rubs one foot on the other to remove any conspicuous dust on his shoes. A sound of footsteps is heard and in a moment Agamemnon steps aside to usher in — Halide Kaled Zia Bey. 89 FOUR PLAYS Halide is dressed in an extravagant costume that owes part of its conception to the East and part to the West. A badly-fitting skirt of cheap material gives a resemblance of the West but the headdress and waist might be mistaken for Turkish. The slippers that Halide wears bear a strange resemblance to the product of Japan, while the shell rim¬ med glasses that form the most con¬ spicuous portion of the out-la7idish at¬ tire smack greatly of the up-to-date American optician. As she advances the professor s eyes follow her wonder- in gly as if he can hardly believe his senses. Ed follows behind hardly re¬ straining his glee—Agamemnon does not know what to make of the new ar¬ rival. ) HAL {In perfect English) : Is this the professor Thomas Lawton? AG (Aside) : If this ain’t the dod- beatin’est female Achilles Agamem¬ non Brown have ever seen. PROF: ( Stuttering ) Yes — but — eh — eh (and then hurriedly) : but there must be come mistake. HAL (Coming nearer) : But, no, professor, your name is the very one that Dr. Albright gave me. AG: Well, I be dodbeat if Marse Tom ain’t goin’ to have them thousand women after all. PROF: That will do, Agamemnon. Go down stairs (Turning to Halide) Dr. Albright, he gave you my name? HAL: Yes, and he told me that you had a good heart and he was sure that you would care for me and love me and— 0<>3OCr3DOCZ=3OOC)C=DC)OOC=DOO0 none — inoo c -m nn i-> nnn t -v totv- 90 four plays PROF ( Now thoroughly aroused) : Impossible! Surely there is some mis¬ take. HAL: Ah, no, professor, I have a letter. PROF: Let me have it. (He seizes the letter, glances at the inscription and seeing that it is really for him tears it open. In the meantime Halide as if tired from her journey throws herself down on the couch with apparent dis¬ regard to the amount of lower limbs showing. The professor, before be¬ ginning the letter follows her with a decided air of disapproval. Then he turns to read aloud from the letter). “Dear Thomas: “Beyond a doubt you will think that I am taking an unprecedented liberty in doing what I have without warning you, or gaining your consent. However, I recalled your compassionate heart and ever readiness to help, and knowing your interest in all things in this part of the world I have taken the chance of sending you one of my poor women that you might care for her. As you surely know from the Press Dispatches the Sultan turned them away without a cent and if you cannot provide for her out of the goodness of your heart and well-known compassion I can’t imagine how they will ward off starvation.” (During all the above Bd has been seated beside Halide on the sofa eyeing her as Romeo would Juliet. Halide slips her hand into his and looks at him coyly. At this juncture the prof, looks up.) PROF: Edgar, what do you mean 91 QOOOCIIDOOCxrTTDCXX)' FOUR PLAYS by trying to become familiar with this eh— this—eh—poor lady? (Ed releases Halide’s hand and the professor returns to the letter). “Her name is Halide Kaled Zia Bey and she differs from many of the Sul¬ tan's wives in that she is highly intel¬ lectual. That has much to do with my sending her to you. She is very inter¬ ested in Hellenic Culture and was the Sultan’s English reader and interpreter. She translated for him all the stories in ‘The Argosy’ All-Story Weekly’, ‘Life’, and ‘The Saturday Evening Post’. As you surely know these are the Sultan’s favorite periodicals. Halide is interest¬ ed in Homer also, and knows most of it by heart. In fact she was a present to the Sultan from the Governor of Smyrna and is probably of Greek ex¬ traction. As soon as things calm down in this part of the world I will have an authority in heraldry look up her fam¬ ily tree. “But I would not have you think for a moment that she is altogether of the cold intellectual type. On the contrary she is very loving—” ED (Interrupting him after a fond look at Halide) : Gee, that’s GREAT. PROF: Young man, don’t be vul¬ gar. Miss Halide, I think you had bet¬ ter come over here. (Halide turns to re¬ ceive a whisper from Ed that she an¬ swers with a smile and then going to the professor, much to his surprise, she flops down on the arm of his chair and bends lovingly over him. He tries to ignore her and returns to the letter.) —'“She is very loving and needs 92 FOUR PLAYS love on the part of others to keep her from being unhappy—” ED ( Enthusiastically ) Let me see to it that she gets the loving. {He soon cools dozvn under the withering gaze of the professor, who resumes his reading.) —“Be kind to her, Thomas, and she will cherish you always and besides you will have performed a remarkable deed of Christian charity. I know you will not fail me. JACK ALLBRIGHT. “P. S. Pardon my typing this letter, old chap, but I am rushing around like a house afire trying to care for these poor women and I am forced to dictate it to my stenographer.” (During the latter part of this letter Halide has been closer over the profes¬ sor to Ed’s evident amusement. As the professor looks up from the letter their faces almost touch. The professor jerks back his head abruptly.) PROF: But, young lady, this fam¬ iliarity is unpardonable. ED : Aw, let the poor girl alone, uncle, didn’t the letter say that she needs loving and cherishing and all that? HAL ( Innocently ) : And isn’t he to be my husband? PROF: Husband ! Shades of Her¬ cules. {He jumps up greatly agitated.) HAL: Certainly. The good teach¬ er at Mr. Albright’s told me that the man who takes care of me must be my husband. It is written against in the Good Book, and if I wasn’t a good little girl I would go down to an awful place, it said. 93 FOUR PLAYS ED: Certainly. That is exactly right. Now Homer would say— PROF: This is no time to talk about Homer (He sits dozim) and this is pos¬ itively indecent (Almost rudely he shoves the girl from him. She rearrang¬ es her hair and pulls out a powderpuff. Some of the powder is blown on the professor who starts coughing) . I did¬ n't know they had powderpuffs in Turkey. (Agamemnon slips in unnoticed. He is very much interested in what he re¬ gards as a good show, but is still unde¬ cided zvhat to make of it.) HAL: Ah, but the Americans brought us all the great things of civil¬ ization. (She runs and puts her arm around the embarrassed professor.) AG: Will yer look at that woman loving Marse Tom? (He is unable to restrain his glee and is doubled over in laughter. The professor is too busy with his own thoughts and troubles to notice him. He turns away his head in an effort to rid himself of the image of the girl.) HAL: Uzuma benden a yirma. PROF: Huh? HAL (Very innocent) : Oh, pardon me, I thought you were the Sultan. In . English I mean, “Don’t turn away your face.” AG: I declar’ dis shore am funny, dis here female thinking Marse Tom am one of dem Sultans dat keeps a thousand women. PROF: Agamemnon, what are you doing here? HAL (Trying to soothe him with 94 0OCXX=T3O0OC=D00Oi FOUR PLAYS gesture and with words) : Ben aglarum sen gul. ED: Well, that beats all. Making love to him in Turkish. PROF ( Again shoving the girl away, and getting up) : But this is im¬ possible. Absolutely disgraceful! What will my confreres of the faculty think— and the Board of Trustees. Why—eh —they will accuse me of living in a state of—eh— ED: But, uncle, you will only have to marry her PROF: What—eh—marry a woman out of a harem! Unheard of! What do you think I am ? ED: Yes, I guess you would have a hard time keeping up with her. PROF: That is beside the question. It is impossible, I say. HAL ( During the above colloquy she appears undecided as to her action but now she conies up and looking coyly into the professor's face says : Derden- den den oldum zabun.) PROF: No, no, it is impossible. My reputation would be ruined; my house¬ hold upset; my hours of study deranged, my—eh; and I might not have time to grade my Hellenic Culture papers and —eh— ED: But, uncle, think of your well- known compassion. PROF: Compassion be hanged. ED: But only an hour ago you said that it was a challenge to humanity and that no man with a heart could turn one of the women away—poor women. PROF: But—eh—such things all depend on circumstances. Perhaps 95 FOUR PLAYS somebody else but not me—I—eh—I— ED ( Ignoring his protest ) : And now Providence has given you a chance of being a good Samaritan. PROF: Providence! I’d call it the work of the devil. HAL ( Apparently greatly shocked) : Oh! ED (In a tone of remonstrance) : Uncle! PROF: Oh, I guess she’s heard worse than that in a Turkish harem. HAL ( Holding her hands over her ears) : Oh how could you suggest such a thing. Oh, such an awful man (She looks appealingly at Ed.) ED (He goes to her and puts his arm around her waist) : That’s all right little girl, don't cry. PROF: Edgar, leave that woman alone. ED (Sarcastically) : Excuse me. I didn’t know you wanted her, but of course when I consider your well-known compassion and milk of human kind¬ ness I’d hate to make you jealous. PROF: Drat compassion! Drat kindness! ED : But Homer— PROF: Homer has nothing at all to say about taking care of women that the Sultan can’t take care of himself. ED (With an air of thanksgiving ): At last Homer has failed him. Homer has nothing to say in this situation. Well I be jiggered. (A noise resembling foot¬ steps is heard outside.) PROF (In great alarm). What’s that? Eh—if—eh the—eh this heathenish and wild looking woman is found here I— 0CCCnnr> <-> non< innn e —a onr*—~>nooQ 96 oh, I will be asked for my resignation. Eh—hide somewhere. (As the noise grows louder). HAL: Who is it? Oh, I’m so afraid of these stern, cold looking men with long faces Fve seen around here. They don’t look human. ED: I just wonder if she means the faculty. HAL: Oh, protect me ( She rushes to the professor and buries her head on his shoulder. He is terror-stricken with the fear of detection and sinks into the chair, dragging Halide with him. In the fall Halide s wig comes off and she is seen to be a man.) Oh, my hair! PROE (His mouth wide with amaze¬ ment) : Why, it was a wig! HAL (Seeing the game is up) : You didn’t expect a man to have hair like that, did you? (no longer trying to dis¬ guise her voice.) PROF.: Are you a man? And you weren’t sent from Turkey by Albright? And I haven’t got to take care of you. And— AG (During the above speech he has stuck his head in the door. His eyes bulge wide with amazement when he sees Halide without his (her) wig.) Well I do declare! Marse Tom’s har¬ em ain’t no harem after all. HAL (Breaking in with injured dig¬ nity) : I hope Pm a man. PROF (Still doubtingly) And you’ve never been in a Turkish harem? HAL: Of course not. Lead me to one though, and I’ll do my best to get in for you. Oooc< 97 FOUR PLAYS QOOOCZDOCO C~~ >OCOC=? none—inon <—i nmnm;-inon t—l ooncrrnooo c=DOOOC=3CODO PROF: And your name’s not Hal¬ ide Kaled Zia— HAL: Not at all, not at all. My name is— PROF ( This moment recognising him) : Why you’re—you’re in my Hell¬ enic Culture class—why—your name is Haskins. HAL (As if a great problem has been solved ) : Exactly. PROF (The truth of the whole joke now beginning to dawn upon him. He is so angry that he stutters) : Why, Sir, t-t-this is atrocious; unheard of; unpre¬ cedented, unwarranted (He pauses for another word) outrageous (still more angry) Why, sir, Pll have you expelled. Sir, I’ll— HAL: Ta-ta, professor, calm down. I quit college yesterday. In fact, I just came by to tell Ed goodbye. PROF (Realizing that his anger is useless) : Well, well, it was cleverly done. It reminds me of that famous scene in Homer where— ED: Aw, uncle, let’s forget Homer just for tonight. AG: Yessah, Marse Tom, you been worrying aroun’ too much about dis here Hellacious Culture and desehere Tur¬ keys that have more ’an a thousand wo¬ men. PROF: Well, maybe I have, maybe I have. Perhaps I am a trifle too schol¬ arly, a trifle too self-centered. But now ■ it’s time for supper, isn’t it Aga¬ memnon ? AG: Yassah, Yassah. ED: I knew it would take a woman to wake you up, uncle Tommy. 98 FOUR PLAYS HAL: Don’t call me no woman. PROF: Well, well, maybe you were right, this once. ED: And after supper, Uncle, I know you’re going to throw those Hell¬ enic Culture papers in the fire and come with us down to the game. PROF: Yes, maybe I shall. May¬ be I shall. Because I am sure that Homer— CURTAIN. W. P. Gallaway. 7 99