BY THE YELLOW SANI>i SHAKESPEARE TERCENTENARY • MASOyE Class h' S 7) fT ^ ^ Book . A ^ ^ G g. r CopyiiglitN°_ 1914, COPVRIGHT DEPOSm WORKS BY PERCY MACKAYE DRAMAS The Canterbury Pilgrims. A Comedy. Jeanne d'Arc. A Tragedy. Sappho and Phaon. A Tragedy. Fenris The Wolf. A Tragedy. A Garland to Sylvia. A Dramatic Reverie. The Scarecrow. A Tragedy of the Ludicrous. Yankee Fantasies. Five One-act Plays. Mater. An American Study in Comedy. Anti-matrimony. A Satirical Comedy. To-morrow. A Play in Three Acts. A Thousand Years Ago. A Romance of the Orient. The Immigrants. A Lyric Drama. MASQUES Caliban. A Shakespeare Masque. Saint Louis. A Civic Masque. Sanctuary. A Bird Masque. The New Citizenship. A Civic Ritual. POEMS The Sistine Eve, and Other Poems. Uriel, and Other Poems. Lincoln. A Centenary Ode. The Present Hour. Poems and Plays. In Two Volumes. ESS A YS The Playhouse and the Play. The Civic Theatre. A Substitute for War. AT ALL BOOKSELLERS Uniform with this volume SAINT LOUIS: A Civic Masque as enacted by 7,000 CITIZENS OF SAINT LOUIS CALIBAN PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF SETEBOS, BY JOSEPH URBAN CALIBAN BY THE YELLOW SANDS uj dUyS^ Percy MacKaye Garden City New York DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1916 ENDORSED BY THE DRAMA LEAGUE OF AMERICA Copyright, igi6, by Percy MacKaye All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian All acting rights, afid motion picture rights, are reserved by tlie author in the United States, Great Britain and countries of the copyright Union SPECIAL NOTICE Regarding Public Performances and Readings No performance of this Masque — professional or amateur — and no public reading of it may be given without the written permission of the author and the payment of royalty. The author should be addressed in cars of the publishers. During the Shakespeare Tercentenary season of 1916, the Masque — after its New York production at the City College Stadium., May 23, 24, 25, 26, 27 — will be available for production elsewhere, on a modified scale of stage performance. With proper organization and direction, amateur participants may take part in performances .with or without the Interludes. For particulars concerning performances wholly amateur, address Miss Clara Fitch, Secretary Shakespeare Tercentenary Committee, 736 Marquette Building, Chicago, 111. After June first, a professional company, which will cooperate with local communities, will take the Masque on tour. For partic- ulars address Miss. A. M. Houston, Drama League of America, 736 Marquette Building, Chicago, 111. APR 18 1916 5)CU4277.12 "Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands I" The Tempest, CALIBAN BY THE YELLOW SANDS A COMMUNITY MASQUE Of the Art of the Theatre Devised and Written to Commemorate the Tercentenary of the Death of SHAKESPEARE Illustrations by Joseph Urban & Robert Edmond Jones TO . THE , ONLIE BEGETTER . OF . THE . BEST IN . THESE . INSUING SCENES MASTER . W . S LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS AND CHARTS Cover Design: "When the kings of earth clasp hands" (Act II, Second Inner Scene). By Robert Edmond Jones. Preliminary Sketch of Setebos. By Joseph Urban Frontispiece ^ FACING PAGE Ground Plan for Auditorium (with Stages of Masque Proper and Interludes). By Joseph Urban xxx -^ Design of Stage for Masque Proper. By Joseph Urban xxxii --"' Preliminary Sketch for Seventh Inner Scene. By Robert Edmond Jones 98 -"^ Preliminary Sketch for Tenth Inner Scene. By Robert Edmond Jones 138 '^ APPENDIX Inner Structure of Masque (Chart). By Percy MacKaye 154 '^ A Community Masque Audience (Photograph). By E. O. Thalinger 156- Community Masque Organization Plan (Chart). , By Hazel MacKaye t-S^ CONTENTS PAGE Preface xiii Masque Structure xxix Persons and Presences xxxi Prologue 3 First Interlude 32 Act I 34 Second Interlude 76 Act II 78 Third Interlude no Act III Ill Epilogue 142 Appendix 147 PREFACE Three hundred years alive on the 23rd of April, 1916, the memory of Shakespeare calls creatively upon a self-destroying world to do him honor by honoring that world-constructive art of which he is a master architect. Over seas, the choral hymns of cannon acclaim his death; in battle-trenches artists are turned subtly in- genious to inter his art; War, Lust, and Death are risen in power to restore the primeval reign of Setebos. Here in America, where the neighboring waters of his "vexed Bermoothes" lie more calm than those about his own native isle, here only is given some practical opportunity for his uninterable spirit to create new splendid symbols for peace through harmonious inter- national expression. As one means of serving such expression, and so, if possible, of paying tribute to that creative spirit in forms of his own art, I have devised and written this Masque, at the invitation of the Shakespeare Celebration Com- mittee of New York City. The dramatic-symbolic motive of the Masque I have taken from Shakespeare's own play ''The Tempest," xiv PREFACE Act I, Scene 2. There, speaking to Ariel, Prospero says: "Hast thou forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy Was grown into a hoop? . This damn'd witch Sycorax, For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing . was hither brought with child And there was left by the sailors. Thou . . Wast then her servant; And, for thou wast a spirit too deh'cate To act her earthly and abhorred commands, Refusing her grand bests, she did confine thee, By help of her most potent ministers And in her most unmitigable rage. Into a cloven pine, within which rift Imprisoned thou didst painfully remain . . Then was this island — Save for the son that she did litter here, A freckled whelp hag-born — not honor'd with A human shape . . . that Caliban Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st What torment I did find thee in, . . it was a torment To lay upon the damn'd . . // was mine art, When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape The pine and let thee out. " "It was mine art" . . There — in Prospero's words [and Shakespeare's] — is the text of this Masque. PREFACE XV The art of Prospero I have conceived as the art of Shakespeare in its universal scope: that many-visioned art of the theatre which, age after age, has come to liber- ate the imprisoned imagination of mankind from the fetters of brute force and ignorance; that same art which, being usurped or stifled by groping part-knowledge, prudery, or lust, has been botched in its ideal aims and — Hke fire ill-handled or ill-hidden by a passionate child — has wrought havoc, hypocrisy, and decadence. Caliban, then, in this Masque, is that passionate child-curious part of us all [whether as individuals or as races], grovelling close to his aboriginal origins, yet groping up and staggering — with almost rhythmic falls and back-shdings — toward that serener plane of pity and love, reason and disciplined will, where Miranda and Prospero commune with Ariel and his Spirits. In deference to the master-originator of these charac- ters and their names, it is, I think, incumbent on me to point out that these four characters, derived — but re- imagined — from Shakespeare's "The Tempest," be- come, for the purposes of my Masque, the presiding symbolic Dramatis Personce of a plot and conflict which are my own conception. They are thus no longer Shake- speare's characters of ''The Tempest," though born of them and bearing their names. Their words [save for a very few song-snatches and sentences] and their actions are those which I have given xvi PREFACE them; the development of their characters accords with the theme — not of Shakespeare's play but of this Masque, in which Caliban's nature is developed to become the protagonist of aspiring humanity, not simply its butt of shame and ridicule. My conception and treatment also of Setebos [whose name is but a passing reference in Shakespeare's play], the fanged idol [substituted by me for the "cloven pine "]; of Sycorax, as Setebos' mate [in form a super-puppet, an earth-spirit rather than "witch"], from both of whom Caliban has sprung; of the Shakespearian Inner Scenes, as brief -flashing visions in the mind of Prospero; of the "Yellow Sands" as his magic isle, the world; these are not liberties taken with text or characters of Shakespeare; they are simply the means of dramatic license whereby my Masque aims to accord its theme with the art and spirit of Shakespeare. Shakespeare's own characters, that use his words ^ in scenes of his plays, have then no part in my Masque, except in the Inner Scenes,^ where they are conceived as being conjured by Prospero and enacted by the Spirits of Ariel. iThe words of Shakespeare used in this Masque, are quoted from the Tudor Edition of Shakespeare's Works, edited by Neilson and Thorn- dike (Macmillan). The stage directions and cuts, however, are not taken from any edition, but have been made by me for purposes of the Inner Scenes. ^n this book these Inner Scenes are printed in black-faced type. PREFACE xvii The theme of the Masque — Caliban seeking to learn the art of Prospero — is, of course, the slow education of mankind through the influences of cooperative art, that is, of the art of the theatre in its full social scope. This theme of cooperation is expressed earhest in the Masque through the lyric of Ariel's Spirits taken from "The Tempest"; it is sounded, with central stress, in the chorus of peace when the kings clasp hands on the Field of the Cloth of Gold;^ and, with final emphasis, in the gathering together of the creative forces of dramatic art in the Epilogue. Thus its motto is the one printed on the title page, in Shakespeare's words: "Come unto these yellow sands And then take hands. " So much for my Masque in its relationship to Shake- speare's work and his art. Its contribution to the modern development of a form of dramatic art unprac- tised by him requires some brief comment. This work is not a pageant, in the sense that the festivals excellently devised by Mr. Louis N. Parker in England, Mr. Lascelles in Canada, or Mr. Thomas Wood Stevens in America have been called pageants. Though of necessity it involves aspects of pageantry, its form is more closely related to the forms of Greek drama ^This is the motive of Mr. Robert Edmond Jones' cover design for this volume. xviii PREFACE and of opera. Yet it is neither of these. It is a new form to meet new needs. I have called this work a Masque, because — like other works so named in the past — it is a dramatic work of symbolism involving, in its structure, pageantry, poetry, and the dance. Yet I have by no means sought to relate its structure to an historic form; I have simply sought by its structure to solve a modern [and a future] problem of the art of the theatre. That problem is the new one of creating a focussed dramatic technique for the growing but groping movement vaguely called "pageantry," which is itself a vital sign of social evolution — the half- desire of the people not merely to remain receptive to a popular art created by specialists, but to take part themselves in creating it; the desire, that is, of democrac}- consistently to seek expression through a drama of and by the people, not merely for the people. For some ten years that potential drama of democracy has interested me as a fascinating goal for both dramatist and citizen, in seeking solution for the vast problem of leisure.^ Two years ago at Saint Louis I had my first technical opportunity, on a large scale, to experiment in devising a dramatic structure for its many-sided require- 'An outline of suggestions on this subject I published in a volume, "The Civic Theatre, in Relation to the Redemption of Leisure" [1912]. Further ideas and their applications are contained in the prefaces and dramatic texts of my Bird Masque " Sanctuarj^, " "Saint Louis: A Civic Masque," and "The New Citizenship," a Civic Ritual. PREFACE xix ments. There, during five performances, witnessed by half a million people, about seven thousand citizens of Saint Louis took part in my Masque [in association with the Pageant by Thomas Wood Stevens]. In the appen- dix of this volume a photograph gives a suggestion of one of those audiences, gathered in their public park [in seats half of which were free, half pay-seats] to witness the production. ^ That production was truly a drama of, for, and by the people — a true Community Masque; and it was largely with the thought of that successful civic precedent that the Shakespeare Celebration first looked to Central Park as the appropriate site to produce their Community Festival, the present Masque, as the central popular expression of some hundreds of supplementary Shake- spearean celebrations. In so doing, they conceived the function of a public park — as it is conceived almost universally west of the Eastern States, and almost everywhere in Europe — to be that of providing outdoor space for the people's expression in civic art-forms. The sincere opposition of a portion of the community to this use of Central Park would never, I think, have arisen, if New York could have taken counsel with Saint ^The outgoing cost of the Saint Louis production was $122,000; the income $139,000. The balance of $17,000 has been devoted to a fund for civic art. The cost of producing a single play by Sophocles at Athens was $500,000. XX PREFACE Louis's experience, and its wonderfully happy civic and social reactions. The opposition, however, was strong and conscientious; so that, on the same principle of community soHdarity which was the raison d'etre for their informal application to use Central Park, the Shakespeare Celebration withdrew their wish to use it. To spht community feeling by acrimonious discussion was contrary to the basic idea and function of the Cele- bration, which are to help unite all classes and all behefs in a great cooperative movement for civic expression through dramatic art. One very important public service, however, was per- formed by this Central Park discussion; it served clearly to point out a colossal lack in the democratic equipment of the largest and richest metropolis of the western hemisphere: namely, the total lack of any public place of meeting, where representative numbers of New York citizens can unite in seeing, hearing, and taking part in a festival or civic communion of their own. New York, a city of five million inhabitants, possesses no public stadium or community theatre. Little Athens, a mere village in comparison, had for its heart such a community theatre, which became the heart of civilization. Without such an instrument, our own democracy cannot hope to develop that cooperative art which is the expression of true civilization in all ages. Happily for the Shakespeare Celebration and its aims, PREFACE xxi a large measure of solution has, at the date of this preface, been attained by the gracious offer of the New York City College authorities, through President Mezes, to permit the use of the Lewisohn Stadium and athletic field, temporarily to be converted into a sort of miniature Yale Bowl, for the production of the Shakespeare Masque on the night of May 23rd and the following four nights. By the brilliant conception and technical plans of Mr. Joseph Urban for joining to the present concrete stadium of Mr. Arnold Brunner its duplicate in wood, on the east side of the field, and so placing the stage on its narrower width to the north, there will be created a practical out- door theatre, remarkable in acoustics, qualified to accom- modate in excellent seats about twenty thousand spec- tators, and some two or three thousand participants in the festival. If such a consummation shall eventually become per- manent there, it will complete the realization of a prac- ticable dream already rendered partly complete by Mr. Adolf Lewisohn's public-spirited donation of the present concrete structure. Referring to that practicable dream, I wrote four years ago in my volume "The Civic Thea- tre":^ "One day last spring, traversing with President John Finley the grounds lately appropriated, through his fine efforts, by the City of New York for a great stadium at Tage 71, on Constructive Leisure (Mitchell Kennerley, 191 2). xxii PREFACE the City College, I discussed with him the splendid op- portunity there presented for focussing the popular en- thusiasm toward athletic games in an art dramatic and nobly spectacular. " This new dramatic art-form, then — a technique of the theatre adapted to democratic expression and dedicated to public ser\ace — I have called by the name Community Masque, and have sought to exemplify it on a large scale in two instances, at Saint Louis and at New York. The occasion of this preface is not one to discuss the details of that new technique further than to suggest to the public, and to those critics who might be interested to make its implications clearer than the author and direc- tor of a production has time or opportunity to do, that the exacting time limits of presenting dramatically a theme invoking many dissociated ages, through many hundreds of symbolic participants and leaders, are con- ditions which themselves impel the imagination toward creating a technique as architectural as music, as color- ful as the pageant, as dramatic as the play, as plastic as the dance. That my own work has attained to such a technique I am very far from supposing. I have, however, clearly seen the need for attaining to it, whatever the difficulties, if a great opportunity for democracy is not to be lost. To see that much, at a time when the vagueness of ama- teurs, however idealistic in desire, is obscuring the aus- PREFACE xxiii tere outlines of a noble technical art looming just beyond us, may perhaps be of some service. As visual hints to the structure (Inner and Outer) of the present Masque, the charts here published may be suggestive to the reader. To the reader as such it re- mains to point out one vital matter of technique, namely, the relation of the dramatic dialogue to the Masque's production. Even more than a play [if more be possible], a Masque is not a realized work of art until it is adequately pro- duced. To the casual reader, this Masque, as visualized merely on these printed pages, may appear to be a struc- ture simply of written words: in reahty it is a structure of potential interrelated pantomime, music, dance, light- ing, acting, song [choral and lyric], scene values, stage management and spoken words. Words spoken, then, constitute in this work but one of numerous elements, all relatively important. If no word of the Masque be heard by the audience, the plot, action, and symboHsm will still remain understandable and, if properly produced, dramatically interesting. Synchronous with every speech occur, in production, effects of pantomime, lighting, music, and movement with due proportion and emphasis. Such, at least, is the nature of the technique sought, whether or not this particular work attains to it. A Masque must appeal as emphatically to the eye as a xxiv PREFACE moving picture, though with a different appeal to the imagination. Because of this only relative value of the spoken word, there are many producers [theoretical and practical] who believe that the spoken word should be eliminated en- tirely from this special art of the theatre. Artists as eminent and constructive in ideas as Gordon Craig, and many whom his genius has inspired, advocate indeed this total elimination of speech from the theatre's art as a whole. For them that art ideally is the com- pound of only light and music and movement. The reason for this, I think, is because the sensibility of those artists is preeminently visual. Moreover, they are rela- tively inexpert, as artists, in the knowledge of the technique and values of the spoken word. Being visu- ally expert and creative, they have, by their practical genius, established a world-wide school of independent, visual art [assisted only by mass sounds of music]. For them this art has well nigh become the art of the theatre. Yet it is not so, I think, and can never be so, to that watching and listening sensibihty for which all dramatic art is created — the soul of the audience. That soul, our soul, is a composite flowering of all the senses, and the life-long record of the spoken word [reiterated from childhood] is an integral, yes, the most intimate, element of our consciousness. The association of ideas and emotions which only the PREFACE XXV spoken word can evoke is, therefore, a dramatic value which the art of the theatre cannot consistently ignore. It is chiefly because those artist-experts in word values, the poets, who might contribute their special technique to the theatre's art, turn elsewhere creatively, that the field is left unchallenged and open to the gifted school of the visualists. The true dramatic art — which involves ideally a total cooperation — does not, and cannot, ex- clude the poet-dramatist. Shakespeare and Sophocles lived before electric hght; if they had Hved after, they would have set a different pace for Bakst and Reinhardt, and established a creative school more nobly poised in technique, more deeply human in appeal. Now, therefore, when the poets are awaking to a new power and control of expression, here especially in our own country, if they will both learn and teach in this larger school, there rises before us the promise of an art more sensuous, sane, and communal than the theatre has ever known. So, in the pioneering adventure of this Masque, which seeks by experiment to relate the spoken word to its larger cooperation with the visual arts, I have devised a structure in which the EngHsh language, spoken by actors, is an essential dramatic value. Why, then, take pains [as I have done] to make it rela- tively non-essential in case it should not be heard? For this reason: that now — at the present temporary xxvi PREFACE and still groping stage of development of community Masque organization and production — there can be, in the nature of the case, no complete assurance beforehand of adequate acoustics in setting, or of voices trained to large-scale outdoor speech. But, if this be so, would it not be the wiser part of creative valor to adapt my structure wholly to these ele- mentary conditions, risk nothing, and devise simply panto- mime? No, for by that principle no forward step for the spoken word could ever be taken. // we are to progress in this new art, we must seek to make producing conditions con- form to the spoken play, even more than the play to those conditions. / And this can be done; it has been done. ' At Saint Louis the vast amphitheatre for my Masque was at first considered, by nearly all who saw it, to be utterly unsuited to the spoken word; yet, after careful study, experiment and technical provision for its use, the speech of actors was heard each night by at least two- thirds of the hundred and fifty thousand listeners. Of the seven thousand actors only about fifteen spoke, but these conveyed the spoken symbolism and drama of the action. In the present Masque I have focussed the spoken word on the raised constructed stage of wood [A. and B. in the Chart] , confined it to the speech of eight principal acting parts, and about twenty other subordinate parts, PREFACE xxvii whose speaking lines [from Shakespeare's plays] are still further focussed at the narrower inner stage TA. in the Chart], provided with special sounding boards. On the other hand, for the ground-circle of the "Yellow Sands" [C. in the Chart], where the thousands of partici- pants in the Interludes take part under an open sky, I have provided no spoken words, but only pantomime, mass movements, dances and choruses. To the reader, then, I would repeat, that the words of this printed Masque are an essential, though not an ex- clusive, part of its structure, and are meant primarily to be spoken, not primarily to be read. As in the case of my Civic Ritual "The New Citizen- ship"^ this Masque can only have its completely ade- quate production on a large and elaborate scale. Like the Civic Ritual, however, which — originally designed for the New York stadium — is being performed on an adapted scale in many parts of the country, in schools and elsewhere, this Masque may perhaps serve some good purpose in being made available for performance in a smaller, simpler manner, adapted to the purposes of festivals during this year of Shakespeare's Tercentenary. At the invitation, therefore, of Mr. Percival Chubb, President of the Drama League of America, who first suggested to me the writing of a Memorial Masque to Shakespeare, the publishers have made arrangements Wew York, 1915, Macmillan. xxviii PREFACE with officers of the Drama League for making known its availability as stated in their announcement printed at the back of this volume. The accompanying stage-designs are the work of Mr. Joseph Urban, the eminent Viennese artist and producer [who has recently become an American], and of Mr. Robert Edmond Jones, designer of the scenes and cos- tumes for Mr. Granville Barker's production of "The Man Who Married a Dumb Wife. " At the date of this preface, Mr. Arthur Farwell has near- ly completed his compositions for the lyric choruses and incidental music of the Masque. The choruses will shortly be made available, published by G. Schirmer, New York. With all three of these artists I am fortunate in being associated in preparations for the Masque's New York production next May. These preparations have met with many complex difficulties of launching and organization; the time re- ^maining is very brief to accomplish the many-sided community task for which the Masque is designed; only the merest beginnings of so vast a movement can be at- tempted; but, with cooperation and support from those who believe in that task, the producers look forward hopefully to serving, in some pioneering degree, the great cause of community expression through the art of the theatre. Percy MacKaye. New York, February 22, 1916. MASQUE STRUCTURE The Action The action takes place, sjmibolically, on three planes: [i] in the cave of Sebetos [before and after its transformation into the theatre of Pros- pero]; [2] in the mind of Prospero [behind the Cloudy Curtains of the inner stage]; and [3] on the ground-circle of "the Yellow Sands" [the place of historic time]. The Time The Masque Proper is concerned, symbolically, with no literal period of time, but with the waxing and waning of the life of dramatic art [and its concomitant, civilization] from primitive barbaric times to the verge of the living present. The Interludes are concerned with ritualistic glimpses of the art of the theatre [in its widest, communal scope] during three historical periods: [i] Antiquity, [2] the Middle Ages, and [3] Elizabethan England. The Epilogue is concerned with the creative forces of dramatic art from antiquity to the present, and — by suggestion — with the future of those forces. The Setting The setting of the entire Masque is architectural and scenic, not a background of natural landscape as in the case of most outdoor pageants. Being constructed technically for performance, on a large scale, by night only, its basic appeals are to the eye, through expert illusions of light and darkness, architectural and plastic line, the dance, color, and pag- eantry of group movements; to the ear, through invisible choirs and XXX MASQUE STRUCTURE orchestra, stage instrumental music and voices of visible mass-choruses [in the Interludes only]. As indicated by the accompanying diagram [Time Chart]* of its Inner Structure, the Masque Proper is enacted by a comparatively few [about thirty] professional actors, who use the spoken word to motivate the large- scale pantomime of their action; the Interludes [which use no spoken word, but only dance, pageantry, miming, and choruses] are performed by community participants [to the number of thousands]; the Epilogue utilizes both kinds of performers. Corresponding to this Inner Structure, the Outer Structure consists of three architectural planes or acting stages [all interdependent]: [i] a modified form of Elizabethan stage, [here called "the Middle Stage — B "] consisting of a raised platform [to which steps lead up from a ground- circle, eight feet below] provided with a smaller, curtained Inner Stage [A — under a balcony, on which the upper visions appear, and above which the concealed orchestra and choirs are located]. This Inner Stage is two feet higher than the Middle Stage, from which ramps lead up to it. Shutting it off from the other, its "Cloudy Curtains," when closed, meet at the centre; when they are open, the inner Shakespearean scenes [visions in the mind of Prospero] are then revealed within. Between the raised Middle Stage and the audience lies the Ground- Circle — in form like the "orchestra" of a Greek theatre. Here the com- munity Interludes take place around a low central Altar, from which rises a great hour-glass, flowing with luminous sands. This ground- circle is the place of the Yellow Sands, the outer wave-lines of which are bordered by the deep blue of the space beyond. The circle itself, repre- senting the magic isle of Prospero [the temporal place of his art], is mottled with shadowy contours of the continents of the world. Beneath the middle stage, and between the broad spaces of the steps which lead up to it from the ground-circle, is situated, at centre, the mouth of Caliban's cell, which thus opens directly upon the Yellow Sands. .\11 of these features of the setting, however, are invisible when the Masque begins, and are only revealed as the lightings of the action dis- close them. *See Appendix, page 154. liHflKt5PI«RE5CENt5 GROVJND-PbflN FOR-flUOlTORiun flND5Tfl6E OF-6HflKE5PE/lREnfl5QVi£' BwtOPLE STHbf ^■0UTEI?Sm6E*(0nTMfrf PERSONS AND PRESENCES 7. OF THE MASQUE PROPER i Speaking Persons ARIEL SYC0RAX2 CALIBAN PROSPERO MIRANDA Lust Death War Caligula [Impersonated by Lust] One in Gray [Impersonated by Death] Another in Gray [Impersonated by Caliban] Mute Presences SETEB0S3 Choral Presences SPIRITS OF ARIEL POWERS OF SETEBOS Pantomime Groups Lust Group Death Group War Group } Impersonated by the Powers of Setebos Roman Group The Ones in Gray Transformation Choir \ Gregorian Choir > Impersonated by the Spirits of Ariel Tee Ones in Green / The Nine Muses Renaissance Fauns 'The Masque Proper consists of the Prologue and Three Acts, without the Inner Scenes and the Epilogue and Interludes. -Visualized by a Super-puppet. •Visualized by an idol. xxxii PERSONS AND PRESENCES II. OF THE TEN INNER-STAGE SCENES {Enacted by the Spirits of Ariel.] See Appendix: Pages 159-161. Of these scenes eight are spoken scenes taken from plays of Shakespeare; one (the sixth) is a pantomime devised from a descriptive speech in "Henry the Eighth," Act I, Scene I; one (the fourth) is a tableau scene symbolic of the early Christian Church. Those taken from Shakespeare are printed in black-faced type. III. OF THE INTERLUDES See ApPEJfDDc: Pages 162, 166, 172, 184, 187, 190, 195. IV. OF THE EPILOGUE Speaking Persons The Spirit of Time Sh.a.kespe.\re [as Prospero] Pantomime Groups* Theatres [with Musicians, Dancers, Designers, Producers, Inventors etc.: Creators of the art of the theatre] Actors Dr.\matists Spirit Trumpeters [Announcers of the Groups] •See Appendix: Pages 207-216. U H H H rt CALIBAN CALIBAN PROLOGUE The action begins in semi-darkness, out of which sound invisible choirs. The scene is the cave of SETEBOS, whose stark- colored idol — half tiger and half toad — colossal and primitive — rises at centre above a stone altar. On the right, the cave leads inward to the abode of SYCORAX; on the left, it leads outward to the sea, a blue-green glimpse of which is vaguely visible. High in the tiger-jaws of the idol, ARIEL — a slim, winged figure, half nude — is held fettered. In the dimness, he listens to deep-bellowing choirs from below, answered by a chorus of sweet shrill voices from within. [Sing] [Sing] THE VOICES FROM BELOW Setebos! Setebos! THE VOICES FROM WITHIN Ariel! 3 4 CALIBAN ARIEL [Calls aloiid] 0, my brave spirits! THE VOICES FROM BELOW Setehos ! Setebos ! Over us which art, and under: Fang of fire From mouth of thunder ! Hungering goad From belly of mire ! Tiger and toad — Setebos! Blood which art on the jungle bloom, Sloth and slumber and seed in the womb: Which art wondrous Over and under us, Setebos! Setebos! Thou art Setebos! THE VOICES FROM WITHIN Sealed in a starless cell. We are shut from dawn and sky. Ariel ! — Ariel ! Why? ARIEL Setebos knows, but his jaws Fetter me fast: he is dumb — Answering never. CALIBAN 5 THE VOICES FROM WITHIN We, who parch for dew and star — Ariel ! — Ariel ! — Must we perish where we are ? Tell! ARIEL Sycorax knows, but she sits There in the cave with her son — Mocking us ever. THE VOICES FROM WITHIN Ariel! ARIEL Call me no more, Lest they torment us. I hear them Coming now. THE VOICE OF SYCORAX Caliban ! ARIEL Hush! {Gigantic, the twisted form of SYCORAX looms from within the rock.] SYCORAX [Calling toward the sea] Come, fish-fowl! Leave thy flapping in the mud 6 CALIBAN And keep thy father's temple. Call his priests. Thy father Toad's a god, hath double teeth In his two heads. The Tiger loins of him Begot thee in my belly for a cub To lick his paws and purr, else he may pinch thee Behind an eye-tooth, like yon flitter mouse That hangs there wriggling. THE VOICE OF CALIBAN So, so Sycorax! — Coming ! SYCORAX Aye, so so: crawling still! [Malformed and hissing, CALIBAN enters on his belly and arms.] CALIBAN Syc-Syco- Sycorax! See! SYCORAX What hast thou got thee? CALIBAN [Laughs, half rising, and holds up a wriggling crea- ture.] Got A little god — a little Caliban. CALIBAN 7 Ha! — make him out of mud. See: Squeezed it round And slipped him through my fist-hole. Am a god: [Rising] See Sycorax — her grandchild ! SYCORAX 'Tis an eel-worm. Fling him to the white bat yonder. [Her form vanishes in the rock.] CALIBAN [Approaching the idol] Ariel, Here's food for thee : a wormling for thy beak. So, my trapped bird: — How sayst, ha? ARIEL [Sings] " Where the bee sticks there suck /." CALIBAN [Laughing] Bee, sayst thou? Still buzzest of thy wings, and eatest — air! ARIEL [Sings] ^'In a cowslips s hell I lie.^^ 8 CALIBAN CALIBAN My father's gullet is no cowslip's bell. Shalt lie in the belly of Setebos. [Tossing away the eel.] — What waitest for? ARIEL I am waiting for one who will come. CALIBAN Aye? Who will come? ARIEL One from the heart of the world ; and he shall rise On tempest of music and in thunder of song. CALIBAN [Gaping.] Thunder and tempest — so! ARIEL [With ecstasy.] I see him now. CALIBAN [Crouching back.] See him! Where, now? CALIBAN 9 ARIEL In my dream : — He bears A star-wrought staff and hooded cloak of blue, And on his right hand burns the sun, and on His left, the moon; and these he makes his masks Of joy and sorrow. CALIBAN Where? Mine eye seeth naught. ARIEL Before him comes a maid — a child, all wonder — And leads him to this blighted isle. CALIBAN What for, here? ARIEL To set me free, and all my air-born spirits Whom Setebos holds prisoned in this earth. CALIBAN Free? What's that — free? ARIEL What thou canst never be Who never shalt dance with us by yellow sands. lo CALIBAN SPIRITS OF ARIEL {Sing within \ "Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have and kissed The wild waves whist. Foot itfeatly here and there'^ — CALIBAN Ho, blast their noises! Stop thy spirits' squealing. Their piping itcheth me like hornets' stings. SPIRITS OF ARIEL [Sing on, within] "And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear^' — CALIBAN [Screaming.] Setebos! Squash 'em! POWERS OF SETEBOS [Sing below with strident roarings, drowning the song of Ariel's Spirits.] Setebos! Setebos! Thou art Setebos! CALIBAN [Exidting grotesquely.] Who'll dance by yellow sands? — Who's free now, spirit? CALIBAN II Ho, Caliban can squash their music. Free? Aren't I a god, bitch-born, the son of Setebos Can howl all hell up? Worship me, thou wings! Praise my toad- father in his temple! ARIEL The priests Of Setebos are Lust and Death and War. Not Ariel— nor Ariel's Spirits ever — Shall do them honor. One shall come hereafter Whom we now worship, waiting. CALIBAN [Roaring.] Sycorax ! SYCORAX [Reappearing.] Swallow thy croakings, bullfrog. Call the priests, And fill this spirit's nostrils with the reek Of Setebos, his blood-rites. THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL [Cry out piercingly.] Ariel! ARIEL Peace, my brave hearts! Be dumb — but still be dreaming ! 12 CALIBAN CALIBAN Powers of Setebos! — Lust, Death, War, — ho, now! Hither, and do my father worship ! ARIEL [Stifling a cry] Ah! [Enter LUST, DEATH, and WAR, arrayed as priests of Setebos.] SYCORAX [To Caliban.] Come, toad-boy: watch with me, within. CALIBAN [Going within the cave, as Sycorax disappears.] Free, saith? Will dance by yellow sands? — Now, Spirit, dance! [As Caliban goes within, the powers of Setebos come forth. At the altar beneath Ariel, the three Priests lead them in ceremonial rites of primeval pageantry and dance — the sacrificial worship of Setebos. Above them Ariel siifers, with closed eyes. In their rites, Lust pours his libation, and lights the altar fire, which — when War has made there his living sacrifice — Death extinguishes in darkness. Through the dark, which gradually changes to a glowing dusk, Ariel speaks aloud.] CALIBAN 13 ARIEL O Spirits, I have dreamed, but Death has closed My sight in darkness. Spirits, I have begotten Sweet Joy, but Lust hath drowned her in his wine. Yea, I have wove Love wings, but War hath robbed them And riven his lovely body all alive To feed the hungering flames of Setebos. My Spirits, I your master am unmastered. Speak to me! Comfort me! Is there no joy, No love, no dream, that shall survive this dark? Hath this our isle no king but Caliban? Are there no yellow sands where we shall dance To greet the master of a timeless dawn? Or must there break no morning? — Ah, you are dumb Still to my doub tings. Yet the dark grows pale, And, paling, pulses now with rosier shadows; And now the shadows tremble, and draw back Their trailing glories : hark ! All little birds Wake in the gloaming: look! What young Aurora Walks in the dusk below, and like a child Turns her quick face to listen? — Ah! [Below, against the light from the sea, has entered the dim Figure he descries.] THE FIGURE Who caUs? 14 CALIBAN ARIEL Spirits, 'tis she! O, we have dreamed her true At last — Miranda! SPIRITS OF ARIEL [Call, in echoing song] Miranda I MIRANDA [Searching with her eyes.] Earth and air Echo my name. Who calls me? ARIEL Ariel. SPIRITS OF ARIEL [As before.] Ariel! MIRANDA Light and dark spin webs around me. What art thou, voice — and where? ARIEL Here — and your servant. MIRANDA [Beholding him.] O me! — ^poor Spirit! — ^What mouth so terrible Utters a voice so tender? CALIBAN IS ARIEL Setebos, God of this isle, holds me in 's fangs. MIRANDA But why? ARIEL I will not serve him. MIRANDA [Naively, drawing nearer to the huge idol.] Setebos, be kind. Release this Spirit. ARIEL He hath nor ears, nor eyes, Nor 9,ny sense to know thee by, but only These tusks and claws and his toad-belly. Dost MIRANDA Thou suffer, so? ARIEL Not now. MIRANDA And hath he held thee Long captive? i6 CALIBAN ARIEL Since old ocean's slime first spawned Under the moon, I have awaited thee And him thou bringest here. MIRANDA You mean my father, Prospero. ARIEL [Exultingly.] Hail him, Spirits! SPIRITS OF ARIEL [Sing.] Prospero ! MIRANDA Yea, many a starry journey we have made Searching this isle. At last to-day, at dawn, I saw its yellow sands, and heard thy voice Calling for pity. Now my father is come And shall release thee. ARIEL Where? Where is he? ' MIRANDA Here: His cloak is round us now: he holds us now CALIBAN 17 In his great art, revealing each to each Though he be all invisible. [Reentering, Caliban comes forward, sniffing and peering at Miranda.] CALIBAN Hath feet And hair: hath bright hair shineth like a fish's tail; Hath mouth, and maketh small, sweet noises. Beast, ARIEL [Crying out.] Go back! MIRANDA [Staring, amazed.] V/hat's here? CALIBAN Ca — Caliban; cometh here To smell what 'tis. [He sniffs nearer; then howls strangely ?[ Spring in the air: Oho! MIRANDA Alas, poor creature ! Who hath hurt thee? i8 CALIBAN CALIBAN Hurt? Who hurteth God? Am seed of Setebos : Am Caliban: the world is all mine isle: Kill what I please, and play with what I please; So, yonder, play with him: pull out his wings And put 'em back to grow. — Where be thy wings, Spring-i'-the-air? MIRANDA O Ariel, is this sight A true thing, and speaks truly? ARIEL What you hear And see — 'tis my master. MIRANDA 'Tis so wonderful I know not how to be sad. CALIBAN [In puzzled fascination, staring at Miranda.] The moon hath a face And smileth on the lily pools, but hath No lily body withal: thy body is All lilies and the smell of lily buds, And thy round face a pool of moonbeams! CALIBAN 19 MIRANDA [With smile and laughter.] Nay, Then look not in, lest thou eclipse the moon. CALIBAN Syc — Sycorax hath no such laughing: soundeth Like little leaves i' the rain ! Hath no such mouth Bright-lipp'd with berries ripe to suck i' the sun — Sycorax. MIRANDA Who is Sycorax? ARIEL Ah, pain ! CALIBAN Ho, she that hath calved Caliban to the bull Setebos, my blood-sire. [Pauses at a glowing thought, then cries with sudden exultance:] So shall us twain Caliban all this world ! [He crouches, then rolls over at her feet.] — Laugh, Spring-i'-the-air! Lift so thy lily-pad foot and rub his ear Where the fur tickleth, and let thy Caliban Tongue-lick its palm. [He lies, dog-like, on his back, and laughs loud.] 20 CALIBAN MIRANDA This wonder grows too wild. ARIEL Go, go! flee away! C\LIBAN [Leaping up.] Away? — Aye, so! [He approaches Miranda, who recoils, half fearftU.] Wist where sah water lappeth warm i' the noon And shore-fish breed i' the shoals, — Wist where the sea-bull Flap-flappeth his fin and walloweth there his cow And snoreth the rainbow from his nostrils. [He begins to dance grotesquely about her.] Ho, Spring-i'-the-air ! shalt leap, shalt roll in the sun, Shalt dance with lily-warm limbs, shalt race m' the guUs ! Shalt laugh, and call — Come, Come! Come, come, Cahban! Catcheth who catcheth can ! Mateth mew, mateth man: Catch, come, Caliban! ARIEL O Setebos, let me go free ! CALIBAN 21 MIRANDA [To Caliban.] Peace! Dance no more. Go hence, and leave me. CALIBAN [Staring.] Hence? Aye, both — us twain. MIRANDA [With simple command.] Nay, thou alone. CALIBAN [With narrowing eyes, draws nearer.] Saith what? MIRANDA [Unafraid.] Go from me. CALIBAN [Stops, with a hissing growl.] Syc- Syc- Sycorax ! Sycorax ! SYCORAX [Reappearing.] Mole in the mire, wilt squeak When thou art trod on? — Bite! Bite, Setebos' son! Let the brave wonder breed of thee. 22 CALIBAN CALIBAN Aye, mother. [With rising passion — to Miranda.] A child! Shalt bear me such as thou, with head Of Caliban : no eel-worm, nay — a wonder. With lily feet, that walk. Ho, Setebos! SYCORAX Setebos ! Mate them at thine altar. MIRANDA [Fleeing from Caliban, pauses in terror of Sycorax.] Save me! POWERS OF SETEBOS [Sing within.] Setebos! Setebos! CALIBAN [Rushing toward Miranda.] Mine! MIRANDA Save me, father! ARIEL [Calling shrilly.] Prospero! CALIBAN 23 SPIRITS OF ARIEL [Sing within.] Prospero! Hail! [A clap of thunder strikes, rolling, in sudden dark- ness. Lightnings burst from the idol of Setebos. From the flashing gloom, choruses of contending spirits commingle the roar of their deep bass and high-pitched choirs.] SPIRITS OF ARIEL Prospero ! Prospero ! Out of our earth-pain Raise and array us In splendor of order! Pour on our chaos — Prospero ! Prospero ! — Peace to our earth-pain ! POWERS OF SETEBOS Setebos ! Setebos ! Lord of our earth-bane, Loose on his wrath way The beast of thy jungle ! Pour on our pathway — Setebos ! Setebos ! Blood for thine earth-bane! {Amid the tempestuous song, darkness, and thunder, appears on the left a glowing, winged throne. On 24 CALIBAN the throne sits PROSPERO — in one hand, a scroll; in the other, a miraculous staffs PROSPERO {Raising his staff. \ Darkness, be light! — Tempest, be calm! — Miranda! [The scene grows light, and is still.] MIRANDA [At the steps of the throne.] Father! PROSPERO Come to me, child. [As she mounts to him gladly.] Sit here beside me. [She sits at his feet, nestling in the folds of his great garment.] My cloak and staff protect thee. MIRANDA [Raising her eyes in dread.] But the wild thing? PROSPERO Must be transformed. — Caliban! CALIBAN 25 CALIBAN [Crouching at the centre, howls terribly] Setebos — sire ! Sycorax — mother! Hast swallowed them. Lord Thunder, Strike us no more ! PROSPERO I strike no more till time Hath need of thunder. Rise now and be tamed, Howler at Heaven. CALIBAN [Rising, bewildered] Tamed, saith? What shall it be — That "tamed?" PROSPERO That shalt thou learn of Ariel. Now — Ariel! [He looks toward Ariel, still held in the mouth of Setebos. Sycorax lies heaped and still by the altar.] ARIEL [Joyously.] Master! PROSPERO Sycorax, lo, 'tis dead. 26 CALIBAN CALIBAN \With wailing cry] Ah — yo! PROSPERO The will of Setebos is matched with mine To rule our world. Time shall award the prize — Mine own Miranda — to his power or mine. His might is awful, but mine art is deep To foil his power and exalt mine own. Ariel, thy spirits shall help me. ARIEL Master, how? PROSPERO Thou, long time artless, now shalt learn mine art To win my goal — Miranda's freedom. Never Tin this immortal Caliban shall rise To lordly reason, can Miranda hold Her maiden gladness undismayed. For that I will release thee from those fangs Of Setebos. ARIEL For that, dear master, I have waited Long ages, dreaming. PROSPERO So, wilt give thy promise To learn of me, and teach this monster here? CALIBAN 27 ARIEL O set me free to be thy servant ever. Master, I promise! PROSPERO Fly! Run free! — Unfang him, Setebos! [Prospero raises his staff. Slowly the tiger-jaws of the Idol open their fangs. Ariel, with a joyous cry, slips into the air, and — as he floats fluttering to the earth — his unseen choir of Spirits sing with shrilly gladness:] SPIRITS OF ARIEL Prospero ! Prospero ! Hail ! ARIEL {Dancing on the earth.] Free ! Free ! MIRANDA [Eagerly^ O, now his fettered Spirits: Free them too! PROSPERO Well urged, my own Miranda. — Setebos, Disgorge these long-embowelled choirs! — Spirits, Come forth! [Again Prospero raises his staff. Yawning enormous, the toad-mouth of the Idol, filled with green and blue light, widens to a lurid aperture 28 CALIBAN out of which come forth — dancing — the star-bright Spirits of Ariel. As they come, Ariel — springing toward Caliban — cries exultingly:] ARIEL Now, Caliban, we dance by yellow sands ! [Singing as they rush forth, the Spirits dart with Ariel swiftly about the grovelling Caliban and chase him^ dodging and whining, down the steps to the ground- circle, mottled with its shadowy continents of the world, and rimmed with its long, yellow wave-lines.] SPIRITS OF ARIEL "Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hatids: Courtsied when you have and kissed The wild waves whist. Foot itfcatly here and there And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear: Hark, hark! Bow-wow I The watch-dogs bark: Bow-wow ! Hark, hark ! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry : cock-a-diddle-dow! ' ' {Encircling Caliban in their dance, and pelting him with bright handfuls of the yellow sands, they tease and CALIBAN 29 drive him howling into his cave cell, where his dark, monstrous shape silhouettes for a moment on the orange-red glow, then vanishes within. As he disappears, to their last "Bow-wow!^' and " Cock-a-diddle-dow !^\ they hasten back above to Ariel, who leads them before Prospero.] ARIEL The beast is routed, Master. Was 't well done? PROSPERO The routed beast — returns. I charge thee, Spirit, Not to torment, but teach him — for which task Thou wilt require mine art. So by its power We will transform this cave of Setebos To be a temple to Miranda. Now Let these thy Spirits lead her to her shrine Yonder, where all her maiden Muses wait To make her welcome. [Prospero points to where, on the right, appears Mi- randa's shrine. From its portals come forth the Nine Muses, bearing lutes and pipes. Prospero, turning to Miranda, rises and gives her into ArieVs care] Child, go with them now And tarry till I summon. 30 C A LIB AX MIRANDA Sir, I will. I thank you and these Spirits, and may we all Be saved from Setebos. ARIEL Sweet Mistress, follow! \To a melodious luting and piping played by the Muses, Ariel and his Spirits escort Miranda to the centre, where the Muses meet and conduct her into the shrine, while Ariel's Spirits — at a gesture from him — dart through the centre of the Cloudy Cur- tains and disappear.] PROSPERO [Calling^ Now hither, bird, and perch ! ARIEL ^Running to him, on the throne] Beside you. Master! PROSPERO [Pointing to the ground-circle.] Seest yonder Yellow Sands? There sleep the shores, The cloudy capes and continents of time; There wane and wax eternal tides, that mark The ebb and flow of empires with their foam. There shalt thou see the million- colored skein CALIBAN 31 Whereof I weave mine art. Look well and learn! For this my art is of no only land Or age, but born of all — itself a world Snatched from the womb of History, to survive Its mortal mother in unagination. — Dost thou attend me? ARIEL Word and will, dear Master! [At the mouth of Caliban's cell are now visible Lust, Death, and War, who in pantomime indicate to Caliban their conspiracy against Prospero and Ariel.] PROSPERO 'Tis well, for thou must prove my pupil. Look! Even now the priests of Setebos conspire With Caliban against us. They will compass My fall, Miranda's ruin, and thy bondage Unless mine art' can foil them. Therefore, now Thou shalt behold the pageant of mine art Pace from antiquity. First, while yon glass Lets flow its yellow sands, behold appear My rites of ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome, And, while they pass, I will instruct thee how To use them. — Pageant, appear! [A deep gong sounds.] Lo, Egypt comes 1 FIRST INTERLUDE* Now in succession through the great gates of the ground-circle, in colorful incursions of costume and music, appear three main pageant groups, that perform — with distinctive artistry of dance, pantomime, mass movement, and choral song — three ritual episodes of the dramatic art of antiquity. The nature of each, by a few brief sentences, Prospcro expounds to Ariel, attd so to the audience. Concluding, each group of the first two departs from the circle. The first Action — a symbolic ritual of Egypt — enters in seven separate processions, which converge at the centre in worship of the golden god Osiris. The second group — expressing the noble zenith of Greek dramatic art — chants, with aspiring, athletic dance, the second chorus of the Antigone of Sophocles, celebrating the splendor of man. This Action is per- formed by the altar. With the third enters a contrasted decadence of the theatre's art with the Roman Mimes, who enact a farcical *The more detailed description of this Interlude is given in the Ap- pendix, pages 162 to 183. 32 CALIBAN T,7, Comedy in Masks, in presence of the emperor Caligula and the Roman populace. Concluding, this Roman group does not depart, hut retiring into partial shadow on the right, awaits there its later summons. ACT I [As the Roman Interlude closes, the light passes from the ground-circle to the middle stage, where Pros- per o — descending his throne with Ariel — moves toward the centre. While they speak together there, Caliban — coming from his cave — crawls part way tip the steps and lies flat, occasionally lifting his head to listen] PROSPERO So, Ariel, I have harvested for thee These orchards of mine art, and let thee taste Their varied fruitages, some that have ripened In climes auspicious, some that are part decayed. Now from three vineyards — Egypt, Greece, and Rome — I will distill a varicolored wine For Caliban to drink. So, steeped in spirit. Haply he also shall see visions. Hast Thou learned by heart all that I whispered to thee? ARIEL All, Master. 34 CALIBAN 35 PROSPERO Tell me part. ARIEL You will create Out of this world of art three scenes of vision. PROSPERO And who shall act them — say ! ARIEL My Spirits shall; And I will be their Prologue. PROSPERO For what purpose? ARIEL To tutor this beast. PROSPERO And why? ARIEL That he may grow To reverence Miranda, and forswear Setebos. 36 CALIBAN PROSPERO So! and to dispel the Powers Of Setebos, I have transformed his cave To be her temple and my theatre. — Look! [Pros per raises his staff toward the darkness thai conceals the background. As he does so, increas- ing light reveals the rude, irregular contours oj the cave of Setebos transformed to the architectural lines of a splendid proscenium, in the oblong of which the Cloudy Curtains shut of the inner stage. The idol of Setebos has vanished. While this transformation is taking place, the Spirit Choirs of Ariel appear above the proscenium, sing- ing] SPIRITS OF ARIEL In the same abode a^nd cell Where the Toad was wont to dwell, And the Tiger stretched his claw, We have built a shrine of Law: We have chosen the lair of hate To love, imagine and create. Out of blood and dross, Out of Setebos, We are risen to show The art of Pros per o: Here within his head and heart Our souls are servants of his art. CALIBAN 37 [Their appearances vanish above.] ARIEL Most noble Master ! Show me now behind Those cloudy curtains : How have you transformed The cave within? PROSPERO Come; I will show thee how. [Prosper and Ariel pass through the curtains at the centre and disappear within. Meanwhile Caliban, peering above the top step, stares in dumb awe at the changed scene. There he is hailed from below by the priest of Setebos, Lust, who comes forth from his cell and calls:] LUST Caliban! Remember Setebos I CALIBAN [Starting, backs down the steps in scared pantomime.] Aye, Setebos! But I hear their watch-dogs bark: Bow-wow ! I feel their tongue-bites yet — their tor- ments. 38 CALIBAN LUST Caliban ! Restore thy father's temple. CALIBAN Yea, but my father had no feet to dance. Curse on their yellow sands ! They sting my eyes Still wi' their Windings. Blast 'em! [He springs part way up the steps again.] LUST Caliban ! Restore the priests of Setebos! C\LIBAN His priests ! Nay, what if the cock sang — their chanticleer His Diddle-diddlc-dow I Burneth my spine Still with that crowing. [Reenter Prospero through the curtains.] LUST Hush! he comes again. I await thy call. Cry on Caligida And I will come. [Lust goes in the cell.] CALIBAN 39 PROSPERO [Calling within the curtains.] Now, Ariel, where art thou? Ariel! ARIEL [Stepping forth from behind the curtains, dressed in the garb of Prologue, bows low\ Here, great Master! I am now Prologus, at your service. PROSPERO Nay, not mine But his. [Calling?[ Come, Caliban: behold thy tutor. Behind these curtains he will show thee now More than thy nature dreams on. If thou obey him And learn mine art, thou shalt go free like him. If not, thou shalt be spitted on a tooth More sharp than Setebos. What sayest? CALIBAN [Cringing^ Lord, Art Cock o' the world, and Caliban thy worm; Yea, only beggeth thee crow no more, nor set Thy dancing dogs to bark at him. 40 CALIBAN PROSPERO Tush, fool: Wilt thou obey? CALIBAN Obeyeth both of you. PROSPERO That's well. Sit here and watch. Now, Ariel, Thy prologue: then reveal what lies behind. [Prospero mounts his throne, on the steps of which Caliban squats below him, watching and listening with growing curiosity. At the centre, before the Cloudy Curtains, Ariel speaks.] ARIEL From Egypt, by our Master's art. Behold now, when these curtains part, A scene of fleeting pageantry : Behold where pale Mark Antony Hath fled his sore defeated ships In quest of Cleopatra's lips, And turned the tides of war amiss To pawn a kingdom for a kiss. — So, by my Spirits' acting, see Of what strange stuff these humans be ! [Ariel retires within through the curtains, which then — to the melodic dirge of flutes within — draw apart, CALIBAN 41 disclosing the inner stage, which depicts a scene of vivid Egyptian coloring] FIRST INNER SCENE Against a background of deep blue sky, the barge* of Cleopatra lies moored at an ancient wharf : *"The barge she sat in, like a burnish 'd throne, Burn 'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them. The oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke. . For her own person, It beggar 'd all description : she did lie In her pavilion — cloth-of-gold of tissue — O'er-picturing that Venus where we see The fancy out-work nature. On each side her , Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With diverse-color 'd fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool. . . . Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i ' the eyes, And made their bends adornings. At the helm A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs." — [Antony and Cleopatra: 11,2. Shakespeare.] The charm and splendor of this description applies here only to the beauty of the barge and those it bears: otherwise Cleopatra and her at- tendants are, in their appearance, distraught and fearful, and the barge shows signs of recent perilous escape from the scene of Antony's sea- battle with Octavius Caesar. Being here conceived as a plastic vision in the mind of Prospero, this Inner Scene — an e.xcerpt from Act III, Scene XI, of Shakespeare's play — has, by dramatic license appropriate to this masque, been laid in a scene suggested by the above description of the barge. 42 CALIBAN From the left, along the wharf, enters Mark Antony, attended by Soldiers and Populace in Roman and Egyptian garb.] ANTONY Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon 't; It is ashamed to bear me ! Friends, come hither. I am so hated in the world, that I Have lost my way forever . I have a ship Laden with gold ; take that, divide it ; fly. And make your peace with Caesar. ALL Fly! Not we. ANTONY I have filed myself; and have instructed cowards To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone ; I have myself resolv'd upon a course Which has no need of you; be gone. . . Nay, do so ; for, indeed, I have lost command. . . [His followers depart, and Antony throws himself down on a buttress of the wharf. Meantime from the barge, Cleopatra — who has looked on and listened — is led down to the landing by Charmian and her Attendants, behind whom Eros [a friend of Antony] follows. They approach Antony, who — absorbed in his grief — does not see them.] CALIBAN 43 EROS Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him. . . CHARMIAN Do! Why, what else? CLEOPATRA Let me sit down. O Juno ! [As Cleopatra sinks down near him, Antony — now beholding her — starts up with a cry of surprise and passionate pain.] ANTONY No, no, no ; no, no ! EROS [Pointing to Cleopatra's piteous aspect.] See you here, sir? ANTONY [Hiding his face.] O fie, fie, fie ! CHARMLA.N [Bending over her.] Madam! EROS [Appealing to Antony.] Sir, sir, — 44 CALIBAN ANTONY Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept His sword e'en like a dancer , while I struck The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I That the mad Brutus ended . . . yet now — No matter. [He sinks down again.] CLEOPATRA [Rising, to her Attendants.] Ah, stand by . . . sustain me! O! EROS Most noble sir, arise ; the queen approaches. Her head's declin'd, and death will seize her, but Your comfort makes the rescue. ANTONY [Drawing still away, despairfuUy.] I have offended reputation, A most urmoble swerving. EROS Sir, the queen! [Cleopatra and Antony face each other— gazing into each other's eyes.] CALIBAN 45 ANTONY [Suddenly crying out.] O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See, How I convey my shame out of thine eyes By looking back what I have left behind 'Stroy'd in dishonor. CLEOPATRA O my lord, my lord, Forgive my fearful sails ! I little thought You would have follow'd. ANTONY Egypt, thou knew'st too well My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, And thou shouldst tow me after. O'er my spirit Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods Command me. CLEOPATRA O my pardon ! ANTONY Now I must To the yoimg man send humble treaties, dodge And palter in the shifts of lowness ; who With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased, 46 CALIBAN Making and marring fortunes. You did know How much you were my conqueror; and that My sword, made weak by my affection, would Obey it on all cause. CLEOPATRA [Touching his arm, clings to him.] Pardon, pardon ! ANTONY [Overcome at her touch.] Fall not a tear, I say ; one of them rates All that is won and lost. Give me a kiss. Even this repays me. . . Wine! Bring wine, within there : wine ! For fortune knows We scorn her most when most she offers blows. [He embraces Cleopatra. From the right slaves enter, bearing chahces and wine-beakers. With them come flutists and harpers, making festal music. Snatching from them a golden cup, Antony raises it aloft with an impassioned gesture, returning the triumphant smile of the Egyptian queen. CLOSING, THE CLOUDY CURTAINS SHUT OFF THE SCENE. {Meantime Caliban, wJio has risen absorbed and drawn slowly nearer in child-like fascination, stands for CALIBAN 47 an instant, bewildered. Then, with a cry, he leaps forward in the dim-lit space and gropes along the curtains with arms wide.] CALIBAN Ho, light! All's smother: 'tis gone! Yo — yo, all gone — Cloud-swallowed, all! Ah, woman, snake-bright queen. Thou wonder-thing, come back ! Ah, where — where — where? PROSPERO So, so! Canst thou, then, taste my vision, slave? [He descends the throne toward Caliban \ CALIBAN [Staring about him] O dazzle-blue, gold-shine, hot lotus smell! Blood-root in bloom, and scarlet water- weed ! — O silver sight and tinkle- tickling sound ! — Spurteth my body with joy — burst in my brain Enormous moons of wonder! — Float, still float. You purpling sails! Blaze, thou flame- woman! Speak Sparkles of kissing fire! 48 CALIBAN PROSPERO [Approaching him.] Nay, art thou touched Beyond thy tiger cravings? CALIBAN Ho, Lord Master, Lord Chanticleer, unswallow from thy gorge The world thou hast devoured ! PROSPERO [Pointing toward Ariel, who comes forth again as Prologus through the curtains.] Ask of thy tutor; He hath revealed that world to thy brute ken. — Ariel, this lump of earth hath dreams within 't, That now begin to sprout. Send it more sun And watering. ARIEL Sir, your art is rain and sun: I am but air, to carry its wet or warmth Whereso you list. PROSPERO So let it fall on him Till he shall wax to a more worthy plant For Miranda's temple-garden. — Here is my Staff: CALIBAN 49 This wields my power. Here keep it in thy charge Till I return. So, use it as a rod To instruct this bungling cub of Setebos. ARIEL [As Pros per goes^ I will, sir. — Go you far? PROSPERO No farther than The frontiers of mine art. Farewell a while ! [Pros per passes within through the curtains. Half confiding, half suspicious, Caliban comes near to Ariel and questions him.] CALIBAN Art, saith! What's that — his art? ARIEL 'Tis that which burns Now in thy blood : the same which conjured hither Bright Egypt and the kiss of Antony. CALIBAN The woman and the kiss! Nay, saidest now 'Tis rain and sun ! ARIEL 'Tis so. 50 CALIBAN CALIBAN Where falleth his rain? Where shineth his sun? ARIEL Yonder on the Yellow Sands. CALIBAN Nay, show me this art! Is 't hidden in thy hand? Here, let me hold the staff. [Caliban reaches for the staf; Ariel raises it warningly.] ARIEL Stay ! Touch it not Lest it shall scorch thy fingers and set fire To the building world. The staff of Prospero Is for his servants, not for slaves, to wield. CALIBAN [Drawing back from it, in fear.] Scorcheth my fingers, ah? — So wield it, thou! Show me once more the snake-bright queen. ARIEL Nay, Egypt No more ! But come with me to Prosper's throne Where / play master now. Here thou shalt sit And watch the battlements of eternal Troy Where Troilus woos inconstant Cressida. . CALIBAN SI CALIBAN Showest me once more — woman? ARIEL Even so; For many kinds of woman make mankind. [Rising, Ariel points toward the inner stage and speaks chantingly] Now, from out Time's storied sphere, Homer's Troy I summon here, On a dawn when Hector seeks Battle with the besieging Greeks: There, while heroes throng the gates, Cressida her lover 'waits, Casting from a height apart Tangling hooks for Troilus' heart. — Behold her now, by Prosper's art! [Ariel raises his staj".] SECOND INNER SCENE* The Cloudy Curtains draw back, revealing the battle- ments of Troy. Above, on a rampart, in the first rays of morning, CRESSIDA appears, with a maiden Attendant. * During this scene/,Caliban — watching intently — slides from the steps of the throne and crawls slowly forward on his stomach to the centre, where he lies prone, with head lifted — his body pointed toward the Inner stage — kicking at times his lower legs [from the knees] in the air. 52 CALIBAN Below, murmuring crowds are looking toward the outer gates. Among them pass the aged Trojan Queen, and the Greek Helen, in her younger beauty. CRESSIDA [Peering below.] Who were those went by? ATTENDANT Queen Hecuba and Helen. CRESSIDA And whither go they? ATTENDANT Up to the eastern tower To see the battle — Hector, Before the sun uprose, was harnessed light And to the field goes he. [Enter behind them Pandarus.] CRESSIDA Hector's a gallant man. — [Turning to greet him.] Good morrow. Uncle Pandarus. PANDARUS [Smiling.] Good morrow, Cousin Cressid. [Trumpets are sounded, off left.] CALIBAN S3 Hark! They are coming from the field. Shall we stand up here and see them as they pass toward Ilium? CRESSIDA At your pleasure. [They move to a better vantage. At a gesture from Cressida the Attendant departs.] PANDARUS Here, here's an excellent place. I'll tell you them all by their names, as they pass by; but mark Troilus above the rest. CRESSIDA [With a reproving laugh.] Speak not so loud. [Below, from the left, Trojan warriors, in battle gear, begin to pass by, through the admiring populace who cheer them occasionally. Among them iENEAS PASSES PANDARUS That's ^neas : is not that a brave man? He's one of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark Troilus; you shall see anon. ANTENOR PASSES 54 CALIBAN CRESSIDA Who's that? PANDARUS That's Antenor: he's one o' the soundest judgments in Troy. But when comes Troiius? I'll show you Troiius anon. If he sees me, you shall see him nod at me. CRESSIDA [Archly.l Will he give you the nod? PANDARUS You shall see. CRESSIDA If he do, the rich shall have more. HECTOR PASSES PANDARUS That's Hector: that, that, look you, that; there's a fellow ! Go thy way, Hector ! There's a brave man, niece. CRESSIDA O, a brave man! PANDARUS Swords ! anything, he cares not; an the devil comes to him, it's all one. Yonder comes Paris — Paris! PARIS PASSES CALIBAN 55 Who said he came hurt home to-day? He's not hurt. Why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha ! Would I could see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon. HELENUS PASSES CRESSIDA Who's that? PANDARUS [Searching with his eyes, grows impatiently expect- ant.] That's Helenus. — I marvel where Troilus is. — That's Helenus — I think he went not forth to-day. — That's Helenus. CRESSIDA Can Helenus fight, uncle? PANDARUS Helenus? no. Yes, he'll fight indifferent well. — I marvel where Troilus is. Hark! do you hear the people cry "Troilus?" TROILUS PASSES [As he approaches, the populace cheer him. His eyes, however, search about till they rest on the battlement, where Cressida, returning his look, starts back, trembling. Noting both their actions, Pandarus continues fiauntingly to point out the young hero.] S6 CALIBAN 'TisTroilus! There's a man, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus ! CRESSIDA Peace ! For shame, peace ! PANDARUS Mark him: note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon him, niece ; look you how his sword is blood- ied, and his helm more hacked than Hector's. O admirable youth! Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way! Had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man ! Paris? Paris is dirt to him. [While he is speaking, Cressida has taken from her hair a flower, knotted its stem to an arrow, and dropped the arrow beneath the rampart, where Troilus lifts it with a smile and happy gesture, bearing it away with him, right. As Pandarus now turns to her, Cressida looks away left and points to others below.J CRESSIDA Here comes more. MORE FORCES PASS PANDARUS Asses, fools, dolts! Chaff and bran! Porridge after meat! I could live and die i' the eyes of Troilus. Ne'er look, ne'er look! the eagles are gone; crows CALIBAN 57 and daws, crows and daws ! I had rather be such a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and all Greece. [Enter, above, Troilus' Boy, who speaks to Pandarus.] THE BOY Sir, my lord Troilus would instantly speak with you. PANDARUS Where? THE BOY At your own house ; there he unarms him. PANDARUS Good boy, tell him I come. [Exit Boy.] Fare ye well, good niece. [He goes off, above.] CRESSIDA Adieu, uncle ! [Below, the last of the soldiers and populace have passed off, right, where Cressida gazes after them, speaking aloud to herself:] O more in Troilus thousandfold I see Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be ; Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing. Things won are done ; joy's soul lies in the doing. [Below, from the right, Troilus hastens back, alone. The arrow with the flower he has thrust through the 58 CALIBAN links in his chain armor on his left side. Pointing to it, he calls up toward the battlement.] TROILUS Cressida ! CRESSIDA [With a glad cry.] Troilus ! [Unwinding her long wine-red scarf, she ties it to the battlement, whence it flutters down to Troilus. Seizing it, he mounts by its aid toward the rampart, where the face of Cressida peers luringly above him.] TROILUS [Calling upward as he mounts.] Cressida ! [Just as he is about to reach Cressida, THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE. [At the centre Caliban now leaps up in loud, excited laughter. Clapping his hands in the air, ht strides toward Ariel on the throne] CALIBAN Aha! Troy, Troy! Lips of Troyland and Egypt ! Lovers in linlvs of gold ! Ho, wine of woman Bubbling in vats of war !— drinketh you all Caliban, Caliban, son of Setebos. — Ariel, CALIBAN 59 Learnest me Art? Lo, now: / am his Artist! Tell him, Lord Prospero, Caliban createth Glories more 'stounding still. Art? Ho, 'tis God's play! But me ? Am God i' the mire : can make me Troy And purple Egypt out of the mud i' my palm; Giveth me only that — his little play stick [Pointing to the staff in Ariel's hand.] To stir in the mud withal. ARIEL Not yet!— This staff Is wrought to stir the spirits of the air, Not dabble i' the slime. CALIBAN Why so? From bog-slime bloometh The lotus, and the sea-lark feedeth her young Along the salt fiats. — [With childish wheedling.] Prithee — the staff? ARIEL [Descending the throne.] 'T'would burn thee. Touch not till thou art free. Yet patience, monster, 6o CALIBAN For thou hast learned to answer well, and growest Rarely in thought and speech. CALIBAN [Tickled to laughter.] Yea, clever monster Soon groweth monstrous clever. More art, fine Ariel! Let Caliban speak thy Prologue. ARIEL Hush!— Miranda! [From her shrine Miranda comes forth, with the Muses. Seeing the two, she pauses astonished.] MIRANDA Nay! — Is this Ariel? ARIEL 'Tis I — Prologus. Will you hear mc, Mistress? MIRANDA [As Caliban approaches.] Thou! — thou, Caliban! ARIEL My pupil. CALIBAN 6i CALIBAN \\Vith confiding assurance] Liketh well thy father's art, Spring-i'-the-air. MIRANDA God speed thy learning, monster ! I am more fain to help thee in that task Than all else in the world. CALIBAN [Astonished and eager] Wouldst help me — thou? MIRANDA How happy, if I could ! CALIBAN Yea, canst thou! — Hark: [Glancing from his garb to Ariel's.] Let me wear glory, too! What booteth me To be his Artist, if I wear no cloth To show my glory? He there talketh no Prologue Without his toga. Tog me, too, in brave Colors ! 62 CALIBAN MIRANDA Well thought on. [To one of the Muses.] Quick, Euterpe: Fetch Bright vesture forth. ARIEL For Caliban? MIRANDA For whom So fit? The need of beauty lies Most near to them who lack it. [Euterpe returns, bringing bright garments, which she and the other Maidens help now to put upon Cali- ban.] So, dear Muses: Lay on! CALIBAN [Delightedly tries to survey himself.] Ha, Sycorax, an thou wert here now To look on this thy son ! [He parades, with swelling pleasure, before the Muses.] Gaze well, good Spirits ! Now, Ariel, th}' pupil soon shall teach thee CALIBAN 63 What thing this Art is: yea, teach Prospero A lesson in 's own lore. MIRANDA [To Ariel, who is about to protest.] Pray, let him tarry This time with us. He is too full of dreams To act us harm. Speak on thy Prologue. CALIBAN [Still parading.] Prologue ! Aye, good : my Prologue shall come after. ARIEL Mistress, Keep here, this staff for your protection. [Accepting the staff from Ariel, Miranda takes seat on the shrine, where the Muses range themselves about her.] MIRANDA So! Be near us, Caliban. CALIBAN [Moving to the shrine steps, speaks to Ariel.] What showest now? 64 CALIBAN^ ARIEL [At centre, before the curtains.] Now, in Time's emblazoned tome Egypt, Greece, turn page for Rome. CALIBAN [Mutters aloud.] Rome, ha! I'll show you Rome! ARIEL Rocked by mighty Caesar's fall Glooms the world in battle pall. Where by midnight, worn and spent. Weary Brutus, in his tent. Watches 'mid the Roman host. There the pallid Caesar's ghost Rises from his candle-flame Accusing. — Who shall bear that blame? Can Brutus wake a world from shame? [Ariel disappears through the curtains. Miranda raises the stajf.] THIRD INNER SCENE The Cloudy Curtains part, disclosing the tent of Brutus, by moonlight. Brutus — his outer armor laid aside — sits on a couch: near him Lucius, a boy, nods drowsily over a stringed instrument. After a brief pause, Brutus — gazing at him — speaks wistfully: CALIBAN 65 BRUTUS Bear with me, good boy : Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile And touch thy instrument a strain or two? LUCIUS Aye, my lord, an't please you. BRUTUS It does, my boy : I should not urge thy duty past thy might ; I know young bloods look for a time of rest. LUCIUS I have slept, my lord, already. BRUTUS It was well done ; and thou shalt sleep again ; I will not hold thee long. If I do live I will be good to thee. LUCIUS [Tuning his instrument, sings dreamily :] Fear no more the frown 0' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the seed is as the oak. The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this and come to dust. [Lucius falls asleep.] 66 CALIBAN BRUTUS This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber, Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good-night ; I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.- Let me see, let me see ; is not the leaf turned down Where I left reading? Here it is, I think. [The Ghost of Caesar appears.] How ill this taper bums ! — Ha ! Who comes here? I think it is the weakness of mine eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition. It comes upon me. Art thou anything? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil. That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare? Speak to me what thou art. [In the darkness, dark ghostly shapes, hardly visible, appear to urge forward the dead Caesar, who alone is luminous.] THE GHOST Thy evil spirit, Brutus. BRUTUS Why comest thou? THE GHOST To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi. CALIBAN 67 BRUTUS Well ; then I shall see thee agam? THE GHOST Aye, at Philippi. BRUTUS Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then. [The Ghost and the dim Shapes disappear. Brutus rises.] Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest : 111 spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. — [Calling aloud.] Boy, Lucius! Romans, Romans! Awake — awake! THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE [Instantly, in the semi-darkness without, Caliban — with a great cry — springs among the Muses, snatches from Miranda the staff, and rushes with it to the centre of the middle stage, shouting aloud:] CALIBAN Awake, Romans, awake ! [Low thunders growl, and sharp flashes glimmer about him A 68 CALIBAN MIRANDA [Cries out, appalled.] The staff! His staff! Touch not its power, lest thou lay waste the world ! CALIBAN [Grasping the stajf, staggers and sways wildly with it, as though being shocked by an invisible force.] Rome! Now do I hold the roof -beam o' the world. Now am / lord of lightnings: Lo, mine art Shaketh the throne of Prospero. [He strides upon the throne, raising the staff.] Awake, Imperial Rome! Return, ye snake-bright women Of Troy and Eg\pt ! Stain these yellow sands Wine-red with spillings of your wreathed bowls, And let the orgied priests of revel reign. — Caligula, be crowned by Setebos! Caligula ! Cahgula ! Caligula ! [While he cries aloud, the Powers of Setebos come forth from the cell beneath, clad as Roman men, women, and slaves and, joined by the Roman Interlude Pageant on the ground- circle, raise the Emperor on a palanquin upon their shoulders, and bear him up the steps to the middle stage, shouting ^'Caligida! " Here a scene of mingled riot and orgy follows: CALIBAN 69 Women dancers with golden bowls, slaves shackled and driven with whips, rabble groups scrambling for bread loaves flung them by heralds, armed soldiery, and gorgeous patrician lords: these swarm in a sor- did saturnalia, from the midst of which the masked form of Caligida rises dominant in splendor. At his gesture, slaves tear the Muses from their shrine, Of id give them over to the revellers. High above all, clutching the staff, his huge limbs rioting grotesque from his silken garments, Caliban dances on the throne of Pros per 0. Below, bass voices of invisible choirs chant through the din : " Setebos ! Setebos ! Thou art Setebos ! " Seized from the throne with the Muses, Miranda — at the centre — is borne in faint dread to the reaching arms of Caligida, who is about to place upon her his crown, when a sudden pealing of silvery trumpets strikes silence over all. In awe the revellers gaze upward, afid turn toward the background, listening. Above them there, from the darkness, appears a colossal CROSS, burning with white fire. Caligida drops his crown. Shadow falls on the colorfid pageantry, and all sink slowly to their knees, as the Spirits of Ariel appear again above — their luminous ivings outspread like seraphim. 70 CALIBAN At either end one blows a slim tapering trumpet. High and clear, then, their choirs chant in Gregorian unison : SPIRITS OF ARIEL Vexilla Regis prodeunt; Fulget Crucis mysterium, Quo came carnis Conditor Suspensus est patibulo. Quo vulneratis insuper Mucrone diro lanceae, Ut nos lavaret crimine, Manavit unda et sanguine. O Crux, ave, spes, unica: Hoc Passionis tempore, ' Auge piis justitiam Reisque dona veniam. Te summa Deus Trinitas, CoUaudet omnis spiritus: Quos per Crucis mysterium Salvas, rege per saecula. During this chant, the dim revellers beneath bow their bodies more low. CALIBAN 71 And now, to faint organ music, the Cloudy Curtains, parting, reveal the INNER STAGE hung like an early Christian shrine in a catacomb — with prim- itive tapestries of dusky blue and gold. Against these in the glow of candles, an image of haloed Saint Agnes holds a white lamb, which silent shep- herds are adoring. This group remains motionless as a tableau. llien silently from either side two priests come forth with swinging censers. Passing forward and down the steps to the ground-circle, they are fol- lowed in the dim light by the Roman revellers, who rise and pass 0^ through the Interlude gates. Last of all rises Caligula, who pauses hesitant, looking hack where Miranda still kneels, now grouped about by her Mtises. As he stoops to lift his crown from the earth, two Figures in the INNER SCENE— a Shepherd Boy, and a Shepherd wrapt in a hide mantle — stir from the still picture and come forward in a circle of light, while THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE behind them, and above the white cross vanishes. Speaking from the place of light to the Emperor's form in shadow, the Shepherd calls to him:] THE SHEPHERD Caligula ! 72 CALIBAN THE EMPEROR Who caUs? THE SHEPHERD Reveal thyself — What thing thou art. [Stepping slowly into the light, the EMPEROR hows him- self before the SHEPHERD, holding up his crown which the Shepherd takes and says with a gesture:] Lay off thy mask. [Rising, the Emperor puts of his mask, revealing him- self as the Priest of Setebos.] Hail, Lust! LUST [To the Shepherd] Hail, Prospero! PROSPERO [Putting of his sheepskin cloak, which the hoy takes from him] Return to Setebos. [To the Shepherd Boy] Ariel, lead him below. ARIEL So, Master! [Ariel leads Lust away to the cell heneath] CALIBAN . 73 MIRANDA [Rising, goes to Prosperous arms] Father! [From the outer dimness, Caliban — who, since the ap- pearance of the burning Cross, has lain flat on the throne steps — now grovels forward [trailing his silken garment by one sleeve] and flings the staff of Prospero into the light space.] CALIBAN No more ! Will never touch it more ! PROSPERO [Staring at the staff.] A thousand years To build, and build for beauty, yet in one flare Of riot lust, a lubber idiot Confounds time and my toil. — Ah, daughter, daughter! How shall mine art reclaim this lapsing ape From his own bondage? MIRANDA Sir, my heart is shaken; Yet the sweet sight of Agnes and her lamb Hath shown new comfort. [Stooping, she lifts the staff and holds it toward him.] 74 CALIBAN Therefore, even as a Shepherd, Take up thy staff in patience, and urge still onward This poor sloughed sheep. PROSPERO Yea, patience! Sun, moon, stars. And all that waxes hath its waning-hour; But patience is the night behind the stars, Steadfast through all eclipse. [With his staff, he touches Caliban where he lies cringed.\ Stir, thou thick clot Of clay and god-spittle! Let thine atoms thaw To mud, where Prosper may imprint once more His blurred seal. CALIBAN [Hoarsely, half rising] Mud : yea, methought to be His Artist, and make dream- things of mine own Like Ariel his spirits, yet now — am mud. MIRANDA [Pitifully] Nay, star-dust! CALIBAN j5 ARIEL [Returning.] Master, from those far frontiers You visited, have you not brought us back More pageants of your art? PROSPERO Yes, Ariel: Back from the dim bourns of the Middle Age Of Germany, France, Spain, and Italy. And now, for this slave's tutelage, I'll show you Their quaint moralities and mad-cap mirth. Come hither, and watch: Lo, olden Germany! Pageant of the north, appear. SECOND INTERLUDE'' Once more, through the community gates of the ground- circle, appear, in contrasted ritual, successive Folk- Groups, that perform now episodic phases of the dramatic art of Europe in the Middle Ages. Concluding, each group departs. First comes the Germanic, in part grimly austere, in part naively grotesque. On a portable, three-tiered stage this group enacts both audience and players of a popular morality play: a pantomime scene depicting — in heaven, earth, and hell — the tragic, romantic HISTORY OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS. This Action is followed by the contrasted splendor of a mediceval French scene. Here, in presence of the Kings of France and England, on THE FIELD OF THE CLOTH OF GOLD, is performed a colorful tournament on horseback. Last follows a fusion of the Spanish and Italian groups in the Third Action: a light-hearted dramatic Scherzo, full of laughter, knavery, and romantic love. * For fuller description of this Interlude, See Appendix, pages 184-194. 76 CALIBAN 77 performed — in the midst of a festa — by the pied actors of the COMMEDIA DELL' ARTE. During this last Action, Prospero a}id Ariel [above] have witMrawn through the Cloudy Curtains, leaving Caliban alone, staring spellbound at the many-hued festival below him. ACT II [Now, when the Italian Interlude is concluded, the light — passing to the middle stage — illumines at centre the lone figure of Caliban, where he squats above his cell. Gazing out over the ground-circle, he calls aloud his yearning thoughts:] C.\LIBAN O Sands — YeUow Sands! FaUeth on you his rain, Shineth his sun! Yea, there his breeding dews Quicken your bhnd rock-seeds, till wondrous live things Burst 'em with flame-bright petals; and where his light falls You blossom with stars and flowers: But me — me saith, Am mud ! CaUeth me a bubble of black ooze Can breed but only mine own belly-kind — Bog-fish and moles. — Lieth! [Rising with a great gesture.] He lieth! 'Tislies! Sands! — ^You wild, yellow sands! I, too, I, too. Am born to dance by your eternal weaves 78 C ALT BAN 79 And build brave temples there. I, too, shall bring you Shoutings of life-song, like those Spirits. — Lo, I come to you — I come now ! [Running doivn the steps, he rushes out upon the ground- circle, where he stoops on bent knees and kisses the shining earth. Behind him, at the entrance of the cell, Death appears, holding a great gray cloak. He comes forward , speaking in a thin monotone^ DEATH Caliban ! CALIBAN [Raising his head] What calleth me there? DEATH Death: priest of Setebos. CALIBAN His temple is fallen: wiU build no more like his. DEATH Thou shalt restore his temple, Caliban. CALIBAN [Rising] Nay, will not! 8o CALIBAN DEATH None can say me Nay. I am The will to not be which denies all wills. [Through the Cloudy Curtains — slowly — Prosper o en- ters, in troubled meditation.] CALIBAN And I am Caliban: [Pointing toward Prospero.] wiU be his servant. DEATH Caliban, thou shalt fail. Thyself art failure, Setebos' son. CALIBAN Myself am done with Setebos: Wear now Miranda's cloth. DEATH Thou shalt wear mine. Behold! CALIBAN [Looking at the gray cloak.] What's that? CALIBAN 8i DEATH My cloak, where thou shalt hide To snare Miranda unto bondage. Hark! [Far, cold, and thin a dirgeful choir sounds from the cell behind the figure of Death.] THE DIRGE Gray — gray — gray: Joy be unholy and hidden; Wan be the rainbow of wonder, frozen the tide ! Blind — blifid — bli'nd: Passion be pale and forbidden; Dumb be the lips of the soul to Beauty denied! PROSPERO [Speaks to Ariel, who comes running from behind the Cloudy Curtains.] BHthe bird of mine, my heart is boding ill. Hast thou heard? ARIEL Nay, Master, what? PROSPERO His dirges. ARIEL Whose? PROSPERO Setebos'. Ha, 'tis not his lust I dread. Nay, nor his tiger tooth, nor belly on fire: 82 CALIBAN 'Tis when his fever cools : when the gray ash Covers the hfe-flame, and the boiHng senses Skim with thin ice, and the rank bloom wears hoar- frost : Not savage souls, 'tis dead souls that defeat us. Not red, but gray — gray. [While Pros per ajid Ariel have spoken together above, Caliban, below, has been drawn half hypnotized by Death toward the cell.] [To Caliban.] DEATH Follow me. CALIBAN I follow! DEATH [At the cclVs mouth, lifts the gray cloak to put upon Caliban.] Wear now my color. CALIBAN [As Death touches him, springs back.] No, no; thy hand- touch freezeth. [Fearfully he leaps up the steps, crying aloud:] Prosper© ! I will serve thee. CALIBAN 83 DEATH [Disappearing within the cell] Thou shalt fail. CALIBAN [Bowing before Prosper o\ Master, raise up thy servant. PROSPERO Raise thyself. CALIBAN [Slowly rising] So — ^while thou lookest on me, I can rise. PROSPERO Nay, look once more on what I now create For thee to rise by. 'Tis mine art, not me. Reigns as thy master. Master it, and go free. [The Three move toward the throne, where they soon group themselves on the steps] / CALIBAN What wilt thou show me now? PROSPERO A mind distraught — Grasping at realms invisible — like thine. Poor groping dreamer. Ariel, from the scroll 84 CALIBAN Of mine old Gothic meditations, bid Thy spirits blazon now a glimpse of Hamlet. [He hands to Ariel his scroll.] ARIEL Your will, great Master, we revere it. — Lo where, to meet his father's spirit, Pale Hamlet watches now, before The parapets of Elsinore ! [Ariel raises the scroll; then, unrolling it, bends his looks upon it, while the Cloudy Curtains part, revealing the FIFTH INNER SCENE. On a platform at Elsinore, by blazing starlight, three Figures are seen pacing the cold. HAMLET The air bites shrewdly ; it is very cold. HORATIO It is a nipping and an eager air. HAMLET What hour now? HORATIO I think it lacks of twelve. C A LIB A N 8s MARCELLUS No, it is struck. HORATIO Indeed? I heard it not : then it draws near the season Wherein the spirit held its wont to walk. [A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off within.] What does this mean, my lord? HAMLET The King doth wake to-night and takes his rouse, Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-start reels ; And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down. The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out The triimiph of his pledge. . . . HORATIO [Pointing.] My lord, it comes! [Enter Ghost.] HAMLET Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! — Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, Thou comest in such a questionable shape That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, 86 CALIBAN King, father, royal Dane : O answer me ! . . . What may this mean, That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon. Making night hideous, and we fools of nature So horridly to shake our disposition With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do? [The Ghost beckons Hamlet.] HORATIO It beckons you to go away with it. As if it some impartment did desire To you alone. MARCELLUS Look with what courteous action It waves you to a more removed ground : But do not go with it. HORATIO No ; by no means. HAMLET It will not speak ; then I will follow it. HORATIO Do not, my lord. CALIBAN 87 HAMLET Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee ; And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself? — It waves me forth again : I'll follow it. MARCELLUS You shall not go, my lord. HAMLET Hold off your hands. HORATIO Be ruled; you shall not go. HAMLET My fate cries out, And makes each petty artery in this body As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen. By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me ! I say, away ! — Go on ; I'll follow thee ! [As Hamlet, impetuous, makes after the departing ghost, THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE 88 CALIBAN CALIBAN [Springmg up.] No, no! Follow not! Let him not follow! 'Tis A spirit lureth to Setebos and Death. He knoweth him not, what 'tis; — but, master, / know. Me, me too hath he beckoned with blind eyes And offered his gray cloth. PROSPERO Thee? Death hath beckoned And yet thou didst not follow? CALIBAN Hither I fled To serve thee, but he said that I should fail; Yet — yet, and thou wilt help, I will not fail! PROSPERO And what wouldst have of mc? CALIBAN [Pointing to Ariel.] Thy wonder scroll : Nay, not thy staff again ! Will never more Botch with thy lightnings. Nay, but this littler thing Lend me, and let me bear it against Death CALIBAN 89 To free my father's spirit from his gray pall, Lettest Ariel : let now thy Caliban Conspire to serve thee. [He readies for the scroll.] PROSPERO Why, thou wheedlest well, And I must hope in thy self-weening. Yet Beware lest thou thyseh shalt wear the drab Thou takest from him: Gray hath arsenic More keen than scarlet or the corroding blood That sered the flesh of Hercules. CALIBAN [Eagerly], The scroll? Wilt lend me PROSPERO \With a gesture to Ariel] Here! [Ariel hands the scroll, which Pros per then gives to Caliban] Use this token of mine art Less blindfold than the last. [Caliban bounds away with the scroll] 90 CALIBAN ARIEL [EalJ protesting^ Will trust liim, Master? PROSPERO Yea, though he fail me yet again, for only Trust can create its object. CALIBAN [Joyfully kissing the scroll and raising it^ . Now, now, Setebos, Thy son shall wean thy Powers from Death, thy priest! {Descending the steps, Caliban hastens to the mouth of the cell, where — as he is about to enter — Death re- appears and hails him.] DEATH Welcome, Caliban! [Death beckons within. Pausing momentarily, Caliban seems about to draw back, but recovering his pur- pose cries out hoarsely:] CALIBAN Go on; I'll follow thee. [He follows within and disappears. CALIBAN 91 Caliban and Death have hardly vanished, when Miranda comes from her shrine, followed by the Muses, who are accompanied by a troop of Fauns. The classic hides of these are partly concealed by gay mediceval garments [Florentine and French], and some bear in their hands great vellum books and parch- ments, which they stack in a pile near the shrine?^ MIRANDA [Calling joyously] Muses, sweet friends to mirth ! Come forth again And fetch your Httle Fauns, that drowsed so long In mildew'd vaults of antique vellum, through all The winters of dark ages. Come, sad Clio, Unpucker your frown! You, pale Melpomene, Blush to a lovelier time. Yond yellow sands, That ran blood-red with orgies of old Rome, Shine golden now with young renascence. The ages Renew their summer. Joy hath its June once more. For once more Prosper reigns. PROSPERO [As Miranda comes to him] 'Tis thy returning Restores my summer time. I see thou hast Been rummaging old lockers. MIRANDA Aye, sir, and found 92 CALIBAN These sharp-eared Fauns, hiding like wintered field- mice In attic parcliments. So I set 'em free To play, while Care the Cat's away. — Come, now, Sicilian boys, caper your shag-hair shins. And thou, Terpsy chore, lead on their dance To please my father. [At her command, TerpsycJiore and the Fauns — to instruments played by the Muses — perform a joy- ous dance before Prospero. As they conclude, he greets them with a smile ^ PROSPERO Thanks, you hearts upleaping! After long ominous hours, thanks for your festa! And you, dear child incorrigible for joy, Come now, I wiU requite you — not in gold, But golden fantasy, wrought all one glow Of shadowless shining. MIRANDA Ah, another vision? PROSPERO Aye, 'tis a vision, that myself beheld Shine on the soil of France. I'll show you Peace : The kings of earth at peace, after red battle ; Two kings of men, each clasping brother's hand Warm with the golden passion of strong peace. CALIBAN 93 MIRANDA What kings were they, and where? PROSPERO England and France: *They met in the vale of Andren, 'twixt Guynes and Aide; I was then present, saw them salute on horseback ; Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung In their embracement, as they grew together.' — * But tell us, Ariel, what I told thee remember, How Peace was crowned on the Field of the Cloth of Gold. MIRANDA How brave a name! Would I had been there! ARIEL [Bowing, as Prologue.] 'You lost The view of earthly glory : men might say Till this time pomp was single, but now married To one above itself. Each following day Became the next day's master, till the last Made former wonders its. To-day, the French, All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, *From Shakespeare's "King Henry the Eighth," Act I, Scene 1. 94 CALIBAN Shone down the English ; and to-morrow, they Made Britain India : every man that stood Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were As cherubins, all gilt : the madams too, Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear The pride upon them, that their very labor Was to them as a painting : now this masque Was cried incomparable, and the ensuing night Made it a fool and beggar. The two Kings, Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, As presence did present them.'* — Lo, now, see How first they met, and clasped their hands in peace ! [Lifting Prosperous staff, Ariel makes a gesture toward the Cloudy Curtains, which part, discovering the SIXTH INNER SCENE Here, to an opening fanfare of golden trumpets, takes place a PANTOMIME, all of gold, depicting to the eye, as in a glowing fantasy, the meeting of the Kings and their Retinues : the alighting of the Kings from horseback, their embracement and their clasping of hands. During this enactment of the pantomime, the choirs of Ariel's Spirits sing, unseen:] *From Shakespeare's " King Henry the Eighth," Act I, Scene 1. CALIBAN 95 SPIRITS OF ARIEL Glory atid serenity, Spkfidor of desire, Blend where golden lilies bloom Mid St. George's fire: Lilies of France ! — behold How they glow on the Field of the Cloth of Gold, And the battle-captains curb their bands Where the kings of earth clasp hands. Power and principality Raise to Peace their choir Where Lord Christ his lilies cling Round the Dragon's ire: Lilies of Christ ! — behold How they flame from the Field of the Cloth of Goldj Where the captains bow to their Lord's commands And the kings of men clasp hands. [At the climax of the meeting of the Kings, THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE PROSPERO [Smiling, to Miranda.] This glowing taketh thee. MIRANDA O, my good father! 96 CALIBAN Methinks my soul is a flake o' the sun, for where Thmgs golden shine, I spangle, too; yea, burn To be Aurora, and trail cloth of gold Around the world. PROSPERO Unless my will miscarry, Thou shalt be such a morning messenger And wake the world with beauty. Now my plans Wait on a vast result, for Cahban Himself hath gone to deal with Setebos His gray priest. Death. MIRANDA What, Cahban! glad Hope for us aU! Your art begins to triumph, And Ariel's Spirits to conquer. PROSPERO That still waits: Meanwhile mine art drinks from this renaissance Deep draughts against a dark to-morrow. — Hither, You Fauns! Come, bear my gold-emblazoned scrolls And silver-clasped books before me ! [Lifting the scrolls and volumes from their pile by the shrine, the Fauns come forward with them to Pros- pero, who turns affectionately to Miranda.] CALIBAN 97 I Will leave you now, and pore awhile on these For further conjurings. MIRANDA [Detaining him.] Yet conjure once Again before you go ! PROSPERO What wouldst thou, dear? MIRANDA Hardly I know: but something high, serene, And passionately fair : some vision'd glimpse Of fadeless youth, and lovers rich through love. PROSPERO Why, Ariel hath his orders stiU. — [To Ariel.] List, pupil : To glad thy mistress' heart, when I am gone, Pour the warm moon-wine of Italian night Into a dream-cup, where entranced lovers Seal with charm'd lips their vows. Therein dissolve What visions rise, till they shall melt in one Gloaming of love and music. — So, Miranda, Rich dreams! Faun-boys, bear on my books before me! g8 CALIBAN [Accompanied hy the hright-clothed Fauns, hearing the great hooks and scrolls in quaint procession, Pros- pero departs through the throne-entrance. Meantime, the Muses and Miratida gather at the shrine, where Ariel approaches Miranda.] ARIEL Mistress — MIRANDA Hark, Muses! Ariel, speak on! ARIEL Ear and eye, now, list and lo: Mirth of mad Mercutio, Juliet's sigh for Romeo ; Dim Lorenzo's murmur'd "Ah!" For moon-dreaming Jessica; Dance of flower-soul'd Perdita Wafted to her Florizel Like a wave o' the sea: List well; Lo, their night renews its spell! [At Ariel's last word and gesture, the Cloudy Curtains part, disclosing the SEVENTH INNER SCENE In the glow and gloom of Italian night, as high clouds intermittently obscure the moon, a palace garden lies in deep shadow. Emerging only partly into CALIBAN 99 view, where soft light-floodings fall on moss-stained statue, marble bench, and balcony, there is revealed at first [on the left] nothing but a glimpse of garden wall, before which flash in the dimness two pied figures [BenvoUo and Mercutio]. Calling shrilly, their young voices rain showers of fluting laughter. BENVOLIO Romeo ! My cousin Romeo ! . . . He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall : Call, good Mercutio. MERCUTIO Nay, I'll conjure, too : Romeo! humors! madman! passion! lover! — I conjure thee by thy true love's bright eyes, By her high forehead and her scarlet lip. By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh And the demesnes that there adjacent lie. That in thy likeness thou appear to us ! — He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not. BENVOLIO Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, To be consorted with the humorous night : Blind is his love and best befits the dark. MERCUTIO If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark . . . Romeo, good-night : I'll to my truckle-bed ; loo CALIBAN This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep : Come, shall we go? [They disappear, swallowed up in black shadow. And now the shadow, shifting, leaves bare in mellow moonshine a glimpse of the garden and the balcony, where JuUet, bending forward, calls mysteriously into the dark below:] JULIET Hist! Romeo! hist! O for a falconer's voice, To lure this tassel-gentle back again! Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud ; Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies. And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine With repetition of my Romeo's name. ROMEO [Emerging, below, from the shadow.] It is my soul that calls upon my name : How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears ! JULIET Romeo ! My dear? ROMEO JULIET At what o'clock to-morrow Shall I send to thee? CALIBAN loi ROMEO At the hour of nme. JULIET I will not fail : 'tis twenty years till then. I have forgot why I did call thee back. ROMEO Let me stand here till thou remember it. JULIET I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Remembering how I love thy company. ROMEO And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Forgetting any other home but this. JULIET 'Tis almost morning ; I would have thee gone : And yet no further than a wanton's bird, "Who lets it hop a little from her hand. . . . Good-night, good-night! Parting is such sweet sorrow That I shall say good-night till it be morrow ! [Once more deep shadow engulfs the scene; and now, out of the dark, harmonious music sounds in strains of passionate wistfulness. So, as the music I02 CALIBAN sounds, on the right, beams of the moon reveal a flowery bank, whereby Lorenzo and Jessica are dis- covered.] LORENZO How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears : Soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold : There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins, Such harmony is in immortal souls ; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we caimot hear it. [Swift shadow sweeps over them in darkness. Wan- ing from its visionary theme to a hint of the "muddy vesture of decay," the music flows onward then into a dance melody; moonlight touches the garden again [on the left] with its liquid glow, wherein- whirled into light from a group of shadowy dancers outside — Florizel and Perdita are disclosed.] FLORIZEL [As Perdita withdraws shyly her hand from his, speaks to her ardently.] What you do Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, CALIBAN 103 I'd have you do it ever. . When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that; move still, still so. And own no other function : each your doing So singular in each particular. Crowns what you are doing in the present deed. That all your acts are queens. . . PERDITA O Doricles, Your praises are too large : but that your youth. And the true blood which peepeth fairly through 't. Do plainly give you an unstained shepherd, With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles, You woo'd me the false way. FLORIZEL I think you have As little skill to fear as I have purpose To put you to 't. But come ; our dance, I pray : Your hand, my Perdita! PERDITA [Giving her hand confidingly.] My Florizel ! [Together they dance away into the dark and the luring music, as THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE I04 CALIBAN [Still, after the curtains^ closing, the music continues, but now more faint, changing the idyllic strains of the dance rhythm to a minor sadness, which grad- ually takes form as a drear, monotonous proces- sional. Through the faint music, Miranda speaks to Ariel.] MIRANDA Too brief ! too brief, sweet bird ! Ariel, be Time's nightingale, and charm these lovers back To yearn immortal youth. Methinks already Their absence leaves us age'd: Dost thou not feel A waning of high powers? Doth not a pallor Creep on the glowing world? ARIEL Yea, so I have felt After the equinox — November coming on. MIRANDA {Starting, as she gazes at one of the Muses.] Euterpe dear! What lock of gray is this In thy bright hair? — Quick, Ariel: fetch my father, For sudden my heart aches, and I wish him near. ARIEL Straight I will bring him, and my Spirits, too. Be merry, mistress: they shall soon restore us. [Ariel hastens of, left. As he does so, the Muses, with downcast looks, file of right into the shrine^ CALIBAN 105 MIRANDA Nay, darling Muses! do not leave me, too. What, must you all go hence? Still I must tarry To greet my father. Friends, good-bye I [They depart.] Ah me! What voices make their dirge within my heart? [While she has spoken, the mouth of Caliban'' s cell, emitting a ghastly glow, Jills with dim Shapes, which pour outward, and swarm slowly upward over the steps, covering the stage with a moving, hud- dled grayness, out of which two cloaked Figures rise distinct in the dusk. As they come forth and hover nearer to Miranda, a cold dirge issues with them from below.] THE DIRGE [As before.] Gray — gray — gray: Joy be unholy and hidden; Wan be the rainbow of wonder, frozen the tide ! Blind — blind — blind: PcLssion be pale and forbidden; Dumb be the lips of the soul to Beauty denied ! [Slowly the gray hosts surround Miranda, who stares at them, only half believing their presence, till the dusk, growing lighter, reveals their long Puritan cloaks and peaked hats, and the two muffled io6 CALIBAN Ones in Gray towering before her. Then faintly she speaks to them:] MIRANDA What are you? Why are you come? Ah, you — 'tis you: Priest of Setebos ! — Caliban ! [She sways and falls.] CALIBAN Ha, she swooneth. — Death, unfasten thy spell ! DEATH Nay, thou hast failed. [Lifting the scroll of Prospero, which he has taken from Caliban, Death makes a gesture to his followers.] Bear her to Setebos! [Then, laying his hand upon Caliban, he turns with him backward, as a group of the gray-cloaked Shapes raise the limp form of Miranda to a cloth-draped bier, and thus bear her downward toward the cell's mouth. In dim processional, as they go, they raise again their dirge:] CALIBAN 107 THE DIRGE Gray — gray — gray: Love, he sin-horn of Misgiving! Life, be a garment of dullness, drab from the loom! Bleak — bleak — bleak: Death, Death is lord of the living: Not in the clay hut the heart of man lies the tomb. [Disappearing in the cell below, their chant dies away. Above them, from the left, Ariel returns, alone. Searching in the dusk, half fearfully, he calls:] ARIEL Miranda — mistress: He hath vanished. Nowhere Can I find trace of him. Yea, and my Spirits They, too — they, too, are gone, lost in the grayness: All have deserted us! Miranda — mistress! Where art thou? Gone, thyself? — and I alone! O gray, that hast engulfed a world of beauty, Where shall I find them ever more — my master, My star-bright mistress? Hear me. Yellow Sands! If you have beheld them, answer now my prayer! [Outstretching his arms toward the Sands\ Prospero ! Prospero ! — Master ! [From far across the Sands hursts a mellow radiance, and the rich voice of Prospero calling in answer:] PROSPERO Ariel! Ariel! Ho, bird I io8 CALIBAN [Springing into light upon the farthest wave-lines of the Yellow Sands, Prospero comes returning, sur- rounded by the Spirits of Ariel, clad all in green and hearing in their midst a garlanded May-pole. Marching joyously across the circle toward Ariel, all in radiant glow, they come shouting a choral song:\ THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL "Sumer is icumen in, Lhude sing cuccu ! Groweth sed, and bloweth mcd. And springth the wude nu. — Sing cuccu ! '^Awe bleteth after lomb Lhoiith after calve cu ! Bulluc sterteth, hiicke verteth, Murie sing cuccu ! "Cuccu, cuccu, well singes thu, cuccu: Ne swike thu naver nu; Sing cuccu, nu, sing cuccu, Sing cuccu, sing cuccu, nu ! " [Leaping up the steps, they plant the May-pole at the centre, where Ariel greets them.] ARIEL Dear Master! blithe hearts : Have welcome home ! CALIBAN 109 PROSPERO Welcome our May-pole back! — Where is thy mis- tress? ARIEL [Startled.] Alas! F(7w know not? PROSPERO [Reassuringly.] Nay, I know. But cheerly, My birdlings! Now that ye are flocked once more Round this enchanted tree, I'll conjure you Out of mine art such joyous rites, that they Shall draw your Mistress even from the tomb To join our revels. Come now, gather round And watch my antic rites of Merry England! THIRD INTERLUDE* Now. through the Interlude gates, and from all sides, a jocund festival pours into the illumined space of the ground-circle: the folk festival of Elizabethan England. Simidtaneously , in diferent parts, as in a merry rural fair, various popidar arts and pastimes begin, and continue together: Morris dancers and pipers, balladists and play-actors, folk dancers, fiddlers, clowns, and Punch-and-Judy performers romp, rant, parade, and jingle amongst flower-girls aiid gay-garbed jesters spangling by the bright venders^ booths. Central, at a point of vantage, above a gaping crowd of lumpkins and children, Noah^s wife harangues the heavens from the old play. So they pursue their merriment, till the low rumble aftd lowering of a thunder-cloud disperses them with its passing shadow. * See Appendix, pages 196-204, for more detailed description. 110 ACT III [At the conclusion now of the English Interlude, out of the shadow a roseate glow stiffuses the cell of Cali- ban, from which the green-clad Spirits of Ariel come running forth, bringing in their midst Miranda. Leading her in daisy chains, they mount with her the steps toward Prospero, singing in glad chorus:] THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL ''Spring, the sweet Spring, is the yearns pleasant king; Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo I " The palm and may make country houses gay. Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo ! " The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit, In every street these tunes our ears do greet: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo I Spring ! the sweet Spring I " III 112 CALIBAN PROSPERO [Greeting her.] Welcome, most dear! MIRANDA Once more you bring me home, And the gray world wears green ! THE VOICE OF CALIBAN [Calling, beneath] Ho, Spring-i'-the-air! MIRANDA Hark! [From his cell, bare-headed, with gray cloak unbound and flapping behind, Caliban bursts forth and hastens toward them] CALIBAN Spring-i'-the-air! Ah, leave me not alone! Take me forth with thee, too! Not Death can hold me When thou goest forth from him. MIRANDA It was thyself That led'st me unto him. CALIBAN lis CALIBAN With thee — with thee Would I He even with Death, But when thou leav- est, Thy Hfe-song prickleth his sod, and maketh my sap To leap, and lick the sun again. [Kneeling before her.] 0, whither Thou goest, let CaHban go, and wear thy cloth Whatso its colors be! PROSPERO [Darkly.] Keep from her, slave! Touch not her hem. Her Muses garbed thee once Gay in her colors. Thou soiled 'st them with shame. Next time thou worest drab, and lured 'st thy Mis- tress Deathward in gray. Now — now thou darest crave Once more to wear her cloth? CALIBAN Yea, do I! See: This cloak — so I forswear it ! [He puts of the gray cloak, tears it, and tramples upon it; then turns to Miranda}, Give me now Thy green to wear ! 114 CALIBAN PROSPERO Insolence infinite! Ariel, my stafi"! MIRANDA Stay!— What to do? PROSPERO [About to raise the staff.] To teach This unwhipt hound — to howl. CALIBAN [Starting back.] Great Master! 2^1IRANDA Grace, Dear Father! Patience needs no quick compulsion. Thine art is wondrous patient, and this poor Slow climber needs thine art. PROSPERO Why, once again Thou art my wiser self. [To Caliban.] Go, lick her hand, And feed from it. CALIBAN IIS CALIBAN [Laying his cheek on Miranda's hand weeps, with great sobs.] Spring — Spring-i'-the-air, thy dew Dabbleth my face. O wonder, what art thou That fillest so mine eyes with rain-shine? MIRANDA April, Not I, can conjure spring i' the air, and April Plies rarest art in England. — Ariel, Fetch us, from out my father's dreamery. Nature's spring-charm and echo of English song! [To the Spirits of Ariel.] Our greenwood cloth! Come, busk him, merry men all: Aye, both of us ! CALIBAN [Rapturously.] This time I will not fail thee. MIRANDA [To Pros per 0, indicating Caliban.] Have faith in this fellow-creature, and let these spirits Clothe him anew. ii6 * CALIBAN PROSPERO As you like it, dear, be it so! [The Spirits clothe Caliban and Miranda in green, while from within the Cloudy Curtains an unseen chorus sings:] THE CHORUS "Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither; Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather." ARIEL Spirits within, ho! [The Spirits run through the curtains, at centre, and disappear within] Prosper's hood Broods now a dream of Arden wood, Where young Orlando, daring fight For succor of old Adam's plight, Defies the greenwood company — But meets there with no enemy. CALIBAN 117 CALIBAN [By the throne with Miranda and Prospero, murmurs aloud:] No enemy! [As Ariel raises his staj", the Cloudy Curtains part, disclosing THE EIGHTH INNER SCENE A place of dappled shine and shadow in the forest. No boughs or trees are visible, but only a luminous glade of color, where falling sunlight filters a sway- ing glow and gloom from high, wind-stirred branches above. On the edges of the scene, the semi-ob- scurity half conceals forms of the forest company [Jacques, the Duke, etc.] who, seated about their noon-time meal, sing their chorus: THE CHORUS Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i' the sim, Seeking the food he eats And pleased with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. [Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn.] ii8 CALIBAN ORLANDO [Fiercely.] Forbear, and eat no more ! JACQUES Why, I have eat none yet. ORLANDO Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. THE DUKE What would you have? Your gentleness shall force More than your force move us to gentleness. ORLANDO I almost die for food ; and let me have it. THE DUKE Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. ORLANDO Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you : I thought that all things had been savage here ; And therefore put I on the coimtenance Of stem commandment. But whate'er you are That in this desert inaccessible Under the shade of melancholy boughs Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time ; If ever you have looked on better days. CALIBAN iig If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, If ever sat at any good man's feast, If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear And known what 'tis to pity and be pitied. Let gentleness my strong enforcement be : In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword. THE DUKE True is it that we have seen better days. And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church. And sat at good men's feasts, and wiped our eyes Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd: And therefore sit you down in gentleness And take upon command what help we have That to your wanting may be minister'd. ORLANDO Then but forbear your food a little while. Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn And give it food. There is an old poor man, Who after me hath many a weary step Limp'd in pure love : till he be first sufiic'd I will not touch a bit. THE DUKE Go find him out. And we will nothing waste till you return. I20 CALIBAN ORLANDO I thank ye ; and be blest for your good comfort ! [Exit Orlando.] THE DUKE Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy : This wide and imiversal theatre Presents more woeful pageants than the scene Wherein we play in. JACQUES All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players ! [Re-enter Orlando with Adam, whom he helps to support.] THE DUKE Welcome ! Set down your venerable burden And let him feed. ORLANDO I thank you most for him. ADAM So had you need : I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. CALIBAN 121 THE DUKE Welcome : fall to ! Give us some music ; sing ! [Once more, as the chorus resumes the song "Under the Greenwood Tree," THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE [The music dies away within. With a strange, dawning reverence, Caliban turns to Miranda and speaks:] CALIBAN ^' I scarce can speak to thank you for myself." — Like him there you have furnish'd me food of pity And a new world with no enemy ! MIRANDA You have none, Save the blind storms of your own nature. CALIBAN Those Tempests are still now. PROSPERO [Approaching.] So mine art hath power Once more to calm? Good : now the time is ripe Methinks to rest awhile, for I am happily 122 CALIBAN Weary, and will take rest from thought. — Miranda, Wilt come within? Unhood me for brief slumber, And smooth my couch? [Rising.] [To Ariel.] MIRANDA Right gladly. PROSPERO And thou, too, One moment: I've more for this tutelage. [Pros per passes off, right, by the throne exit, accom- panied by Ariel. Mirattda, about to follow, pauses at Caliban's entreating voice.] CALIBAN Stay! What your pity hath made me cries to you — Leave me not! Let me be yours! MIRANDA [Wonderingly.] How mean you — mine? CALIBAN Your CaHban, your creature, your bond slave To fetch and bear for you. CALIBAN 123 MIRANDA I want no bonds ^Twixt me and any friend. Nay, we are friends And free to serve each other. CALIBAN Yet I yearn For more : I know not what. MIRANDA What more could be More happy? CALIBAN Here I crawled upon my belly Brute-stuttering for you, where now I stand And pray — with Prosper's tongue. His art hath bred Within my blood a kinship with your kindness That cries: ''Miranda, thou and I are one! " — I know not how — I know not how. MIRANDA You love me. 'Tis simple, then: I love you, Cahban. CALIBAN {In a splendor of amazement.] Lovestme — thou? thou! — Wilt be mine? 124 CALIBAN MIRANDA Nay, truly You know not how. Love knows not mme and thine, But only ours; and all the world is ours To serve Love in. I am not thine, good friend. [She goes within.] CALIBAN Stay yet ! — She loveth me ! Yet Love, she saith, Love knows not mine and thine. A VOICE FROM BENEATH [Calls deeply.] She shall be thine, Caliban ! CALIBAN [Starting.] Mine ! Who saith that word? THE VOICE She shall Be thine! CALIBAN How mine? — Say ! THE VOICE Thou shalt fight for her. CALIBAN 125 CALIBAN [Pointing toward the Cloudy Curtains.] Shall fight? Nay, there — the youth put by his sword, For the other said: "Your gentleness shall force More than your force move us to gentleness." THE VOICE Yet thou shalt fight! CALIBAN [Springing forward above his cell.] What art thou? [From the mouth of the cell a flame-colored Figure strides forth and replies:] THE FIGURE War: thy father's Priest. — Cahban, remember Setebos! CALIBAN Ha, Setebos! Com'st thou once more with priest- craft To lure me back to him? — Begone! WAR Yet not Without me shalt thou win Miranda. 126 CALIBAN CALIBAN [Fiercely.] Go! WAR [Returning within the cell, disappears as his voice dies away.] Remember War ! Miranda shall be thine ! CALIBAN [Hoarsely.] Miranda — mine ! ARIEL [Comes running from the throne entrance^ Ho, pupil, now be merry ! Great Prosper sleeps, and from his slumber sends thee A dream of fairy laughter. CALIBAN [Darkly, amazed.] Laughter! ARIEL Aye, An English make-believe of antic elves And merry wives, to douse the lustful fire CALIBAN 127 Of old John Falstaff, lured to Windsor Forest. — Our Master deems thou hast learned art enough To laugh at apings of it. CALIBAN [Still amazed, hut curious^ Laugh? ARIEL Aye, list! {Caliban stands on one side, ivith arms folded and listens^ To Windsor's magic oak now turn: There — his fatty bulk in guise Of the horned hunter Heme — Big Sir John in ambush lies Where the counterfeited fays Troop along the forest ways: How his lust will cease to burn For the Merry Wives — now gaze Yonder by the oak, and learn! [Ariel raises his staff. Parting, the Cloudy Curtains disclose THE NINTH INNER SCENE The gigantic trunk of an oak rises in moonlight, sur- rounded by the glimmering purple of the obscure forest. 128 CALIBAN Trooping from the left, enter the disguised Fairies, follow- ing their leader Sir Hugh Evans.] EVANS Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your parts: be pold, I pray you ; follow me into the pit ; and when I give the watch 'ords, do as I pid you: Come, come; trib, trib. [They conceal themselves. A distant chiming sounds as Falstaff enters, dis- guised as Heme, wearing a stag's head with great horns.] FALSTAFF The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me ! Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa; love set on thy horns. O powerful love ! That, in some respects, makes a beast a man, in some other a man a beast. CALIBAN [Listening intently near the edge of the scene.] A man a beast! FALSTAFF Think on 't, Jove : Where gods have hot backs, what shall poor men do? For me, I am here a Windsor stag ; and the fattest, I think, i' the forest. Send me a cool rut-time, Jove ! Who comes here? My doe? [Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.] CALIBAN 129 MRS. FORD Sir John! Art thou there, my deer? My male deer? FALSTAFF My doe with the black scut ! Let the sky rain potatoes, let it thunder to the time of green sleeves; I will shelter me here. MRS. FORD Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart. FALSTAFF Divide me like a bribe buck, each a haunch : Am I a woodman, ha? Speak I like Heme the hunter? As I am a true spirit, welcome ! [Noise within.] MRS. PAGE Alas, what noise? MRS. FORD Heaven forgive our sins ! FALSTAFF What should this be? MRS. PAGE AND MRS. FORD Away ! Away ! [They run off.] I30 CALIBAN FALSTAFF I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire ; he would never else cross me thus. [Enter Sir Hugh Evans, disguised as before ; Pistol, as Hobgoblin; Mistress Quickly, Anne Page, and others as Fairies, with tapers.] MRS. QUICKLY Fairies, black, gray, green, and white. You moonshine revellers, and shades of night, You orphan heirs of fixed destiny. Attend your office and your quality. Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes. PISTOL Elves, list your names ; silence, you airy toys ! FALSTAFF They are fairies ; he that speaks to them shall die : I'll wink and couch : no man their works must eye. [He lies upon his face.] EVANS Where's Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid That, ere she sleeps, has thrice her prayers said, Raise up the organs of her fantasy; CALIBAN 131 Sleep she as sound as careless infancy ! But those as sleep and think not on their sins Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins! CALIBAN [Growing excitedly absorbed.] Ha, pinch them, saith ! MRS. QUICKLY Away; disperse: but till 'tis one o'clock, Our dance of custom round about the oak Of Heme the hunter, let us not forget. EVANS Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set; And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be To guide our measure round about the tree. But, stay; I smell a man of middle-earth. FALSTAFF Heaven defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he transform me to a piece of cheese ! PISTOL Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth. 132 CALIBAN MRS. QUICKLY With trial-fire touch me his finger-end : If he be chaste, the flame will back descend And turn him to no pain ; but if he start, It is the flesh of a corrupted heart. PISTOL A trial, come. EVANS Come, will this wood take fire? [They bum him with their tapers.] FALSTAFF Oh! Oh! Oh! CALIBAN [Crying out.] Ah, ah! They plague him, too! MRS. QUICKLY Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire ! About him. Fairies ; sing a scornful rhyme ; And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. ALL [As they dance about him, pinch, bum him, and sing:] Fie on sinful fantasy! Fie on lust and luxury ! CALIBAN 133 Lust is but a bloody fire Kindled with unchaste desire, Fed in heart, whose flames aspire As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher. Pinch him, Fairies, mutually; Pinch him for his villany ; Pinch him, and bum him, and turn him about, Till candles and starlight and moonshine be out ! FALSTAFF [Rising and pulling off his buck's head, cries out :] Oh! Oh !Oh! [As he is about to flee, tormented by the dancing figures, THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE CALIBAN [Bursting into bitter laughter.] Ah — ha, ha! ''Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!" Mocketh me, mocketh me, ah! — A man with horns And heart of monster ! [Striding fiercely toward Ariel.] He mocketh me, thy lord! ARIEL [Laughing silverly.] Why, 'tis but fairy sport for laughter. 134 CALIBAN CALIBAN \With choking passion.] Laughter ! Ah-ha ! Me, too — me, too, thy spirits plagued And pinched, to piping jigs. [Seizing Ariel.] I tell thee, smiling Spirit, thy laughter scorcheth me with nettles, {Pointing toward the curtains \ And that hot bulk of lust hath made my loins To rage with boiling blood. ARIEL [Struggling] Unclutch thy hand ! CALIBAN Not till I bleed that oil of laughter from thee Which lappeth me in flame. THE VOICE OF WAR {Calls deeply from helo'w?^ Hail, Caliban! CALIBAN {Pausing, releases Ariel, and listens] Callest me, War? CALIBAN 135 THE VOICE Miranda shall be thine ! CALIBAN Mine ! — Yea, now I am mocked to know myself What rutting stag I am ! And her, the doe I mate, my horns shall battle for, and be Mine own — mine, mine ! Miranda ! MIRANDA {Coming from within, right, raises her hand in gentle warning] Hush thy tone; My father slumbers yet. [Showing Prosperous hood, which she carries] He hath put by This hood, wherein he sends thee here another Visioning. CALIBAN {Stares at her, breathing hard] So: what now? ARIEL {To Miranda] He rages, Mistress. Beware! He babbleth of War. 136 CALIBAN MIRANDA Why, then he conjures The dream my father sends: another picture, Painted in gules on England's ancient shield: King Harr>% by the high walls of Harfleur. [To Caliba7t.] So you may learn, good friend, how noblest natures Are moved to tiger passions — by a painting Called Honor, dearer than their brothers' Uves. CALIBAN Why will he show me this? MIRANDA Perchance that you. Born of a tiger's loins, seeing that picture. May recognize an image of yourself And so recoil to reason and to love. CALIBAN So, mocketh me once more? MIRANDA Nay, never that. But let us look thereon, and learn together. CALIBAN [Starts toward her, but curbs himself, trembling.] Together! CALIBAN 137 MIRANDA [To Ariel.] Hold his magic hood and conjure. ARIEL [Taking the hood of Prospero.] Image of Strife, may never more Yom* Hke draw near! Pageant of long-forgotten War, Appear! Harry of England, lo, is here! [As Ariel lifts Prosperous hood on the staff, the Cloudy Curtains part, and discover THE TENTH INNER SCENE Before high mediaeval walls, partly shattered, to pealing of trumpets, appear in their armor, King Henry the Fifth, and his nobles, surrounded by soldiers, with cross-bows and scalmg-ladders. Standing above on a parapet, the King is exhorting them with vehement ardor. KING HENRY Once more imto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with the English dead ! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: 138 CALIBAN But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger ; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. Disguise fair nature with hard-favor"d rage ; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect. . . . Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noble English, Whose blood is fet from fathers of War-proof ! . . . Be copy now to men of grosser blood. And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen. Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not. . . . I see you stand like greyhoimds in the slips. Straining upon the start. The game's afoot. Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry, "God for Harry, England, and Saint George!" THE SOLDIERS [With a great shout.] Ho, God for Harry, England, and Saint George ! [As they leap forward, to the blare of trumpets, and begin to scale the ladders, THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE [Instantly Caliban, seizing from the staff the hood of Prospero, shakes it aloft and shouts:] CALIBAN 139 CALIBAN Ho, God for Caliban and Setebos ! War, War for Prosper's throne! Miranda's shrine! [A booming detonation resounds, and a roar of voices from below.] THE VOICES Caliban, Caliban, hail! [From • the throne-entrance Prospero — imhooded — has- tens in, surrounded by the Spirits of Ariel, bearing long shining lances. Mounting swiftly the throne and joined by Ariel and Miranda, Prospero calls to Caliban, who — wearing his hood and lifting his staff — strides toward him.] PROSPERO [His unhooded features revealing their likeness to Shake- speare^s.] Who wakes my sleep With these usurping thunders? CALIBAN War and I! Now Setebos returns, and thou art fallen! [A second detonation booms. Red glare bursts from Caliban's cell, and War rushes forth with the Powers of Setebos, clad in his flaring I40 CALIBAN habiliments, followed by the groups of Lust and Death. Bearing lighted torches, amid the roaring of Setebos choruses, flashing fireworks and bombs, they swarm upon the half -obscure stage. Led by War, the flame-colored hordes clash with the Spirits of Ariel, overcome them, and take captive Miranda, Prospero, and Ariel. As War holds Miranda in his power, Prospero con- fronts Caliban who — wearing his hood and raising his staf — exults before him:] Hail, Prospero! Who now is master-artist! Who wieldeth now the world? PROSPERO Hail, Caliban! Slumb'ring, from me thou robb'st my hood and staff Which wield my power; yet not mine art they wield Without my will : my will thou canst not rob Nor ravish. CALIBAN \With eyes gleaming^ But Miranda! PROSPERO Nay, nor her: For she is charmed against thy body's rape CALIBAN 141 By chastity of soul. Thy will and War May break, but cannot build the world: And One, Who bore us all within her womb, still Uves To stanch our wounds with her immortal healing. CALIBAN Where? PROSPERO [Pointing] Yonder, on the Yellow Sands! She rises now And calls across the tides of fleeting change Her deathless artists of the plastic mind — My art that builds the beauty of the world. EPILOGUE Where Prospero points, the light passes from the pageant of War to the centre of the Yellow Sajtds. There, in mellow splendor, a serene female Figure, rising majestic from the altar, calls to the thronging shadows. THE SPIRIT OF TIME Children of men, my passionate children, hark! To-day and Yesterday I am To-morrow: Out of my primal dark You dawn — my joy, my sorrow. Lovers of life, you rapturous lovers, lo The lives you clutch are by my lightnings riven: Yea, on my flux and flow. Like sea-birds tempest-driven. Yet from my founts of life, fecund, divine, Still dauntless lovers dare my dark tribunal, Building a common shrine To hold their love communal. 142 CALIBAN 143 So out of War up looms unconquered Art : Blind forces rage, but masters rise to mould them. Soldiers and kings depart; Time's artists — still behold them! As the Spirit of Time ceases to speak, the light passes to the entrances of the Greek ground-circle, where now — from either side — enters a Pageant of the great Theatres of the world — from the ancient Theatre of Dionysus to the Comedie Francaise — in symbolic groups, with their distinctive banners and insignia. The names of these are blazoned on their group standards, and the groups themselves {like those that follow] are announced from either end of the high balcony above the inner stage by two spirit Trumpeters, the one beneath a glowing disk of the sun, the other beneath a sickle moon. While these, below, have ranged themselves on the ground-circle and steps above — the groups of War, Lust, and Death have dwindled away in the background darkness — leaving only Prospero, Miratvla, and Ariel, grouped in light at the centre. Then on either wing of the stage, at right and left, appears luminous a colossal mask — the one of Tragedy, the other of Comedy. Through the mouths of these, now come forth, in national pageant groups,* the creators of the art of the theatre from antiquity to the verge of the living present: the world-famed actors, dramatists, *For details of these Epilogue groups, see Appendix, pages 205-216. 144 CALIBAN producers, musicians, directors, attd inventors of its art. First come the great Actors, in the guise of their great- est roles — from Thespis and Roscius of old to Irving, Salvini, Coquelin, Booth, of modern times, the comic actors tumbling forth from the Mask of Comedy, the tragic from the Tragic Mask. They are followed by national groups of the great Dramatists from jEschylus to Ibsen, who pass in review before Prospero. Among these, with the Elizabethan Dramatists, grouped with Marlowe, Green, Jonson, Beaumont, and Fletcher, and others, appears the modest figure of Shakespeare, at first unemphasized. For one moment, however, as Shakespeare himself approaches Prospero, he pauses, Prospero rises, and the two figures — strangely counterparts to their beholders — • look in each other^s eyes: a moment only. For Prospero, slipping of his cloak, lays it on the shoulders of Shake- speare, who sits in Prosperous place, while Prospero m^es silently off with the group of Dramatists. Finally, when these pageants of Time have passed, and the stately Spirit of Time vanished in dark on the Yellow Sands, the only light remains on the figure of Shakespeare — and the two with him: Ariel tiptoe be- hind him, peering over his shoulder; Miranda beside him, leaning forward, with lips parted to speak. CALIBAN 145 Then to these, out of the dimness, comes forth Caliban. Groping, dazed, he reaches his arms toward the dark circle, where the stately Spirit has vanished. In a voice hoarse with feeling, he speaks aloiid. CALIBAN Lady of the Yellow Sands! O Life! O Time! Thy tempest blindeth me : Thy beauty bafSeth. — A little have I crawled, a little only Out of mine ancient cave. All that I build I botch; all that I do destroyeth my dream. Yet — ^yet I yearn to build, to be thine Artist And stabhsh this thine Earth among the stars — Beautiful! [Turning to the light, where the Three are grouped.] — bright Beings, help me still! More visions — visions. Master! \With gesture of longing, he crouches at Shakespeare^ s feet, gazing up in his face, which looks on him with tenderness. With Caliban, Miranda too ap- peals to the Cloaked Figure.] MIRANDA [Wistfully.] —Master? [To her raised eyes, he returns a pensive smile.] 146 CALIBAN SHAKESPEARE [As Prospero] " Child, Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were aU spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve. And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep." [Then, while the light focusses and fades in darkness on the pensive form of Shakespeare, the choirs of Ariel's Spirits repeat, unseen, in song:\ THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL ^^We are such stujf As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep J^ rmis APPENDIX CONTENTS OF APPENDIX 1. Foreword 2. Persons and Presences (of the Ten Inner Scenes) 3. Interludes I, II, III 4. Epilogue 5. Announcements FOREWORD The actors of a Community Masque being mem- bers of the community, it becomes the function of the Masque-director to reverse the traditional order of theatrical procedure and — so far as possible — to take the public, as participants, into the confidence of "behind the scenes" beforehand. If this were a play only [in the Broadway sense], I should gather together my staff and company for a preliminary reading, assign parts, devise plans of rehearsal, and get personally in touch with the com- paratively few persons involved in its production. Being, however, a new kind of drama, involving some thousands of persons as actors, and some scores of leaders as a projected staff, it becomes practically necessary to print and publish, before production, not only the foregoing spoken and sung Masque- Proper, but the sketched-in outlines of the non- speaking Interludes which follow. In the nature of the case, these outlines are pre- liminary and [though necessarily printed here] are still plastic and susceptible to various modifications. Thus publication at the moment in New York is 152 APPENDIX essentially for the purpose of rendering each of the hundreds of participants more intimately famUiar with his or her special relationship [as group par- ticipant or group principal] to the work as a whole. To this is also added the need for making its text and stage-directions available to communities out- side of New York, which have already expressed their desire to organize for its production after next May. An interesting American phase of the New York production is the problem of carrying its community meaning to the still polyglot population, so that steps have been taken for the immediate translation of the Masque into Italian, German, and Yiddish. By referrmg to the chart inner structure, the reader will see that it offers a technical solution for the participation of about a dozen national and civic groups ^\^thin the time Umits of the festival, without disintegrating the organic unity of the plot and action of the drama, with which the actions of the various groups are fused and synthesized. This form of technique [the result of some years of thought and experiment in this field] contributes a basis for the future development of the outdoor commu- nity art of the theatre, on a scale adapted to modern cities. The Masque thus becomes, so to speak, a Masque APPENDIX 153 of Masques. For example, the seven-minute Don Giovanni pantomime scene-plot of the Spanish and ItaHan Action in Interlude II [of which Mr. Ernest Peixotto is the community group-chairman] is being enlarged, under Mr. Peixotto's direction, into the spring festival of the MacDoweU Club, performed locally at its clubhouse, lasting an hour and a half, for the Prologue of which the author has written the dialogue. So each of the other Interlude Actions, necessarily brief in time-limit, is itself a potential Masque or festival, capable of being developed locally into larger proportions. And this is being done m New York in the case of several other of the Interlude Actions. At the present date, among those who are actively interested in the production side of the Interludes, are the Misses Lewisohn, and their associates of the Neighborhood Playhouse, for interpreting the Egyp- tian; Mr. Franklin Sargent of the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, in association with members of the Greek Colony, for the Greek; Mr. Arturo Giovan- nitti [who, as poet, is also translating the Masque into Italian] and members of the Italian colony, for the Roman; Mr. Otto J. Merkel, and members of the German University League, for the German; Mr. Charles A. Donner and members of the Alliance Francaise, for the French; Mr. Rene Wildenstein, Mr. 154 APPENDIX Peixotto, and members of the Spanish-speaking com- munity, for the Spanish-Italian; the New York Branch of the EngHsh Folk-Dance Society, under direction of Mr. Cecil Sharp, for the Interlude of Elizabethan England; the American Academy and National Insti- tute of Arts and Letters [Chairman, Mr. William Dean Howells], for the Epilogue. As indicated in the Inner Structure Chart, an Ac- tion of ancient India* was originally planned for the beginning of Interlude I. This was chiefly devised, in conference with the author and director, by the director of the community Interludes, Mr. Garnet Holme, who has brought to this New York production his very valuable experience in directing outdoor festivals in California and England. Owing, how- ever, to brevity of time and the pressure of organiza- tion details, this Action has been omitted from the production in May. Of the other members of the producing staff of the Interludes, Mrs. Robert Anderson contributes to her direction of the community dances her admi- rable knowledge of the subject, and Mrs. John W. *The plan for this India episode is based on a ritual scene of the ancient Hindu drama "Shakuntala," by Kalidasa, translated by Garnet Holme and Arthur W. Ryder, and recently produced by the authors in California. The translation is published by University of California Press, Berkeley, 1914. Those communities that may desire to include this Action in their local festivals should communicate with Mr. Garnet Holme, care of The Shakespeare Celebration, 10 East 43rd Street, New York City. COM/nVlNITy MASQXJE « C-RUIB/=1M " IHHEKSTRAJCTVJRE^ oi , ,;^ fl, .'- . ^ ., 7 . : , ?„ . ': ., „ — , — ^, .' ,^^ i.^, ^ - .,■-, ^^^\ ^K/x>^fi:j.-f.z^drii^\^-^'^t^c^^- I 1*^ IMTERLXIDE I. .'. - ^ ^ . . . .^^ ^/'ta'^vj iHDIfl EGVPT GREECE RO/AE g'^lMTERLAJDE ^^^^^^^^-^•^tf^-^^^^ GERWlMiC FRENCH SPflNISM iT/iLlflM ?^?.^ifH«vSlT)' .fiCc^ttir^^'pfv^f^iijyl; v:; ; .ifeMtQ-LO,REf)Z:a9^^| ELJZABETHAM ENQL/IMD THEflTREb ACTORS ORfl/ViTISTS 2HRS. AOmimutes • SHADED: MASQUE PROPER: SPEAKING ACTORS (ABOUT 30) MUTE FIGURANTS (ABOUT 300) INVISIBLE CHOIRS ACTION ON STAGES A & B OF GROUND PLAN IVHITE: INTERLUDES & EPILOGUE: NON-SPEAKING PARTICIPANTS (ABOUT 2,OOo) VISIBLE CHORUSES COMMUNITY DANCES PANTOMIME ACTING MASS MOVEMENTS ACTION ON STAGE C OF GROUND PLAN APPENDIX 155 Alexander to the Interlude costuming [in association with Mr. Urban and Mr. Jones] the excellent insight and artistry which contributed so much [with the work of her husband, the late President of the Acad- emy] to the impressiveness of the "Joan of Arc" stadium performance at Harvard, and other pro- ductions of Maude Adams and Charles Frohman. In the following descriptions of the Interlude Ac- tions, the numbers of community actors are based on an arbitrary computation [at this date] of a total of 1,500, at least double which number will require to be enhsted to make sure of sufficient persons for the five New York performances. The numbers here printed, however, are purely tentative and are sub- ject to modification. Of the terms used for commun- ity actors, the term Participants means those who take part in the Interludes only; Figurants those who also take part in groups of the Masque Proper; Specials those who take part only in the special group, or groups, designated. In the projected tour of the Masque outside of New York, a modified performance of the Masque, on a smaller scale, when acted without the Interludes, will require, in local community actors, only the Fig- urants. It will be evident, I think, to the reader, that the organization of a community for a Masque perform- 156 APPENDIX ance on so large a scale is a special technique, only recently in process of development. As a contribu- tion to this technique, the appended Community Organization Chart has been dra\vn up by my sister, Hazel MacKaye, who has brought to it her experi- ence, of several years, in organizing and directing community pageants and masques, some of them of her own authorship. Space and time do not permit of further comment in this Foreword on many important social relation- ships and reactions involved in this new community art. The accompanying photograph, however, of a Community Masque audience — 150,000 citizens of Saint Louis gathered in May, 19 14, to witness the Pageant and Masque of Saint Louis, in which ovei 7,000 of their fellow-citizens took part — may be sug- gestive to the imagination of the reader. On the background may be seen, at centre, the thousand- foot stage, and, at left and right, the tents of the community actors, men and women. Space and time also do not permit of any adequate emphasis upon the enormous importance, and con- tribution to this growing art-form, of music in its community aspects. In this respect, the splendid pioneering work of Mr. Harry H. Bamhart in cre- ating community choruses in Rochester and New York City is fundamentally significant. In the o, , APPENDIX 157 creative field of composition, rich in its manifold promise, Mr. Arthur Farwell, director of the New York Music School Settlement, and composer of the music of this Masque, has devoted probably more attention than any other American composer to this community type of musical art. To the Shakespeare Celebration of New York, since its origin last year in activities of the Drama League, Miss Mary Porter Beegle, of Barnard College, has contributed her imflagging zest and enthusiasm, Mr. Howard Kyle his disinterested, manifold services, Miss Kate Oglebay her remarkable thoroughness in organ- izing the Supplementary Celebrations. In his original and deeply based work of experiment, through channels of the People's Institute and the School for Community Centre Workers, Mr. John Collier has shown fundamental leadership in a field all-important to the community purposes of this Masque: the modern economics and organization of cooperative art. As this Foreword goes to press, Prof. Richard Or- dynski has joined Mr. Urban in the work of the Masque's New York production. To Mr. Everard Thompson, producers and com- mittees alike are indebted for his unfailing, friendly resourcefulness. As references to the reader curious to study the art 158 APPENDIX of the theatre in the eras touched upon in these Interludes, a lengthy BibUography might well be submitted. For this Foreword, it may suffice to refer to three very useful works, in several volumes, viz: "The Drama," Editor Alfred Bates, Historical Publishing Company [a dozen volumes]; "The Art of the Theatre," Karl Manzius, Scribners, [5 volumes]; "The Theatre, Its Development in France and England, and a History of Its Greek and Latin Origins," Charles Hastings, London, Duck- worth, 1902 [and Lippincott]. The beneficial possibilities of community festival art and organization are, of course, cormnensurate with the time and opportunity afforded for their development. As mentioned in the Preface, the time for the New York production has, by unavoid- able circumstance, become far too brief to accompUsh, between the present date and the 23rd of May the deep social reactions potential in this festival. A year, instead, for the work of preparation would be none too much. It is hoped, however, that the pro- duction of this Masque may at least help to establish the festival movement in New York on a sound and perennial community basis. Percy MacKaye. New York, March 26, 1916. f ^_^ ^^ <• «i <| jf "^ l§ g 111 3 'l 2 0. w ? a. 4 Z u a.