Glass 
 Book. 
 
 Copyright }i^. 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSnV 
 
Echoes 
 
 AND 
 
 Prophecies 
 
 Dramatic Sparks 
 
 Struck from 
 
 The Anvil of the Times 
 
 By the 
 
 Hammer of the Spirit 
 
 BY 
 
 V. D. HYDE-VOGL 
 
TS 3^^ * 
 
 Copyright, 1909, 
 By V. D. Hyde-Vogl. 
 
 248630 
 
 PRICC, ONE DOLLAR 
 ARIEL PRESS 
 
 VVEiTwooD. Mass. 
 
H. \ ■ ^^ 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 
 
 CAST 
 
 Rosa McNamara, a wealthy girl in tht graduation class. 
 A tall, statuesque blonde. 
 
 Lizette Nietsche, the class poet. A small gipsy beauty. 
 
 Clotilde, class valedictorian. 
 
 Anita, wife of Rabbi Nazimova. 
 
 Rachel, her daughter, fifteen years old. 
 
 VIRGINIA CAMPION, a member of the class, en- 
 gaged to Louis Perrault. Afterwards governess at 
 Nazimovas. 
 
 LOUIS PERRAULT, Prof, of Belles Lettres, etc., in 
 
 the High School, 
 Rabbi Nazimova. 
 George, his eldest son, about twenty years old, in 
 
 love with Virginia Campion. 
 David, a younger son, thirteen years old. 
 
 TIME AND PLACE 
 
 Time, the present. 
 
 Place: 
 
 Act I, In theiheatre of a moderate sized town, evening 
 
 of Graduation Exercises of the High School. 
 Act II, In a beautiful nook in a woodland of a sub- 
 urb of New York City, six months after graduation. 
 Act III, Scene 1, Garden of the Nietsche home, year 
 after graduation. 
 Scene 2, Drawing Room ,of the Nazimova resi- 
 dence, three years after graduation, in the 
 afternoon. 
 Scene 3, Library of the Nazimova residence. 
 Evening, same day. 
 Act IV, Outside the Synagogue, a month later, 6 P. M, 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 
 
 ACT I SCENE I 
 
 Time : Month of June, evening of the High School 
 graduation. 
 
 Place : Dressing room of a country town hall. Groups 
 of young girls in white gowns, donning white gloves, 
 corsage bouquets, etc., chatting animatedly. 
 
 Rosa McNamart and Lizette Nictsche front. 
 
 Rosa. Pshaw, my oxford's untied. Do fix 
 it, Lizette. You're the cutest thing. You can 
 make a bow that never, never comes untied. 
 
 (Puts toe of foot on edge of chair and looks at Lizette.) 
 Liz.. Flatterer, you who can make a true love 
 knot that no one, not even yourself, can undo, 
 had best look after your own shoes. Sit down. 
 (Motioning with an air toward the chair. Rosa seats 
 herself. Lizette drops on one knee, daintily spreads 
 handkerchief over the other, and places Rosa's foot 
 
 upon it.) Wont I make a splendid shoestore 
 saleslady? 
 
 Rosa. Yes, and a good many other splendid 
 things, you little dear. What makes you so 
 glumpy tonight, of all nights? Saleslady, in- 
 deed! Phew! Our class poet! et-chew! (Holds 
 
 nose at 'saleslady,' affects to sneeze at *class poet.') 
 
 Liz. I don't see anything else before me. 
 I can't do anything that's useful— never could. 
 I must earn my living, and the only place 
 open for me is Uncle David Nazimova's shoe 
 store. 
 
ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Rosa, Uncle'— David — Nazimova's — shoe 
 store — imaginel Phewl Oh, something else 
 will turn up, sure. You're only eighteen. My 
 education's not nc-ear-ly done. Pa says, and 
 I'm twenty. (Tossing her head.) I'm booked for 
 Vassar, you know. (With a wry face.) 
 
 Liz, (Horrified) But, dear, you can't really 
 make the riffle you know. It was a close 
 call for gradua 
 
 Rosa, HooshI I know. Pretty near quit- 
 uation. But Clotilde's going to coach me. 
 She needs the money, and Pa's arranged to 
 pay her well. 
 
 Liz, (Sighing) Lucky Clotilde. 
 
 Rosa, Well, I wanted you, 'but, you see, 
 all you could teach is writing poetry, and 
 that's a drug in all markets, but particularly 
 in the marriage market. . Besides, I'd rather 
 act it than write it. 
 
 Liz, (Another sigh) I know, I never sold a 
 line in my life. Well, Clotilde's a dear. 
 
 Rosa. (Flippantly) Oh, yes she deserves a 
 lift. So devoted to her studies, and casts such 
 credit on our-ur-sex, taking head honors. And 
 they're very poor, too. 
 
 Liz, (Sitting on the floor at Rosa's feet) Our sex. 
 How glib you say it. You speak as if you 
 cared a spark whether women were anything 
 but slaves or mantel ornaments: you with your 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 
 
 surreptitious letters, your midnight escapades, 
 clandestine beaux, and — and 
 
 Rosa, And true love knots. Well, I'd thank 
 you to turn your eyes on Miss Demure over 
 there. She isn't talking or smiling, or even 
 excited. Now, why? 
 
 Liz. (With a shrug) Who? Virginia? Oh, 
 because she's thinking of Mr. Demure, I guess. 
 
 Rosa. That's good. Better'n anything I've 
 said. Mr. Demure! I like that, for she'll be 
 boss, all right. 
 
 Liz. (Sardonically) Yes, if there's ever any- 
 one to be boss of. You do not mean to say 
 that you think 
 
 Rosa. I'm not giving away what I think. 
 (Both rise, stand at attention, and gaze portentously 
 at each other. Rosa bursts out laughing, and takes a 
 rose from her bouquet.) Here you haven't any 
 flowers. Let me put one of these white roses 
 in your lovely shining, wavy black hair. Liz- 
 ette, you're a little gipsy beauty. (Lizette courte- 
 sies.) I want to tell you something, but you must 
 never breathe it. I'm going to spend summer in 
 Europe, and you're to— be along— if you wish. 
 
 Liz. (Clasping hands, half sobbing) Oh, Rosa, 
 
 you don't mean it. Oh, darling, you sunlight 
 of my soul. Europe. With you. How? As 
 a companion? 
 
 Rosa. (Solemnly) No, aS a FOIL. 
 
10 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Liz. A what? 
 
 Rosa, A Foil. I intend to make the most 
 of my statuesque beauty, and catch a prince. 
 (They embrace, laughingly. Rosa continues talking over 
 
 Lizette's shoulder) But say, don't you think 
 Virginia will catch him? He's been so devoted 
 to her ever since he's been here — a perfect 
 shadow — 
 
 Liz. Well, I guess he's shadowed a few 
 other girls. 
 
 Rosa. Ugh — ugh. He wouldn't even look 
 at me, and I'm twice as good looking as Miss 
 Demure. And he's never associated with the 
 other professors, he's been so short of time, 
 'count of teaching and courting. Then he's 
 such a duck 
 
 Liz. (Yawning) You mistake, dear, you mean 
 a drake. I really think I could do something 
 with your language. 
 
 Rosa. You wont get a chance. I only want 
 the best. And then, he's so courteous, and — 
 and 
 
 Liz. Cold. That depends on whether there's 
 any fire around. But don't you think his re- 
 gard's given more to the fine student than 
 to — to the real girl? Virginia's life is given 
 to something, I know. Suffrage, or something 
 like that, and professors and such don't figure 
 in her scheme at all. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 11 
 
 Rosa, Don't they? Well, I just guess Fate 
 don't always take you into her confidence at 
 this early stage of the game. Now I, for in- 
 stance, (snuffing at her boquet with a melancholy air) 
 have planned to be the greatest actress of the 
 age, ahem! But I can't get a gleam, or a winty- 
 tinty candle ray past the veil of the Future, 
 though I've been to one ancient soothsayer, 
 one astrologer, and two commonplace fortune 
 tellers, this last month, to see whether I can 
 accept the trip to Europe and then Clotilde and 
 Vassar afterwards, because the stage— the en- 
 chanting stage! (with tragic fervor) is in my horo- 
 scope anyhow; or whether, because it isn'ty 
 I'd better face the issue at once, by— eloping 
 with an actor. 
 
 Liz, (Horrified) Oh, dear Rosa, don't think 
 of such a thing. What, you, with such pros- 
 pects, elope! It would be too dreadful. (Wipes 
 
 a tear away.) 
 
 Rosa. (Saucily) You can well say so, it would 
 cost you a trip to Europe. Come back to the 
 door with me. I hear the voice of a duck of 
 an actor I've just got acquainted with. 
 
 (They retire back, Rosa talking busily. Clotilde and 
 Virginia advance.) 
 
 Clo, Yes, it is true. I am engaged, but it 
 will never take place. I know Rosa too well. 
 And it's too good luck for me. Why it would 
 
12 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 mean the better part of a year, she's so back- 
 ward. 
 
 Va, I wonder what Lizette thinks. What 
 chances you two have-you and Lizette. 
 
 C/o. Why, what do you mean— Lizette? 
 
 Va, Surely you have heard Lizette is to 
 have the summer in Europe with Rosa. Every- 
 body knows. It's a great secret — and you 
 know Rosa. 
 
 Clo, I'm glad. Lizette is so pretty and am- 
 bitious, and quite unable to cope with the world, 
 the poor little poet. I hope she'll catch — well, 
 I guess any title with money would suit her. 
 Ka. (Smiling) I don't know. I think our 
 ambitious poet requires good looks, good char- 
 acter, good family, good purse, good love! 
 
 Clo. A paragon and an impossibility. But 
 I'll bank more on her getting her promise than 
 I mine. So luck will shake you and me loose, 
 as usual, to shift for ourselves. 
 
 Va, I think it's a case of PossumuSy and 
 therefore we must. But, I wonder what we 
 shall be — a year from now. 
 
 Clo. (Laughing hysterically) Oh, don't Virginia, 
 
 you make me shiver to see you so — so — 
 
 Va. So preternaturally commonplace. But 
 
 it's the preternaturally commonplace things that 
 
 afterwards turn out the most dramatic in life. 
 
 Clo. Yes, that's the reason the saying of 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 13 
 
 them seems stale, flat and unprofitable. But 
 perhaps it is just because my whole fate de- 
 pends so entirely on myself, that it all seems 
 so wearisome as well as tragic. Prof. Perrault 
 suggested that when he went over my valedic- 
 tory for me. I haven't even a beau to suggest 
 marriage, Of course. Professor didn't say that. 
 Va, (Laughing) No, I suppose not. But, after 
 all, it is true, but somehow a best truth. It 
 induces great things to be done by yourself 
 (with a little sigh). It is SO developative. 
 
 Clo, But a trifle lonely. (With a little grimace.) 
 
 Va, While to have the future depend on 
 someone else — (stops thoughtfully). So Louis re- 
 vised your essay after all? 
 
 Clo. Yes, dear, as you commanded, ahem! 
 And that reminds me, he has the copy: he 
 threatened to keep it so I should have to "speak 
 it off." Ugh! it gives me cold shivers. I had 
 stage fright once, and, as I am not to be an 
 actress like Rosa, or go on the lecture platform 
 like you (slyly), I don't see why I should stand 
 for it again. 
 
 (Virginia looks solemn, and she tickles her, giggling.) 
 
 Va, Isn't it ridiculous that the class historian 
 selects me, the most retiring girl in the class, 
 for such a spectacular future, and suffrage at 
 that— merely because I love John Stuart Mill 
 and the "Essay on Liberty." 
 
14 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Clo. Not SO very, now, Miss Suffragette. 
 Tis but a step from advocacy of race rights 
 to advocacy of women's rights. Retiring, bah! 
 What has timidity to do with the Calls of Con- 
 science? (Strutting pompously) Why, I can beat 
 you at the reserve game, and Fate may be re- 
 serving me for the role of modern Joan of Arc. 
 
 Va, (Laughing) A Strictly up to date Joan 
 would have to be something like a suffragette, 
 girlie, so I shall be relieved of my role. But, 
 come on, Louis's on the stage, and we'll get 
 your essay from the bad boy. I wont stand 
 for your botching the occasion. They'll be 
 sure to say a boy could do it better. 
 
 Clo, Ah ha. Miss Suffragettel (They start 
 
 toward the door, encounter Rosa and Lizette.) 
 
 Rosa Here, stop, you two. The poet wants 
 us to go ^over the class song again. She's 
 changed the words in one place. There's 
 plenty of time, stage isn't fixed yet. (All for- 
 ward. Sing class poem.) 
 
 CLASS POEM 
 
 Sing a merry roundelay. 
 
 Books and teachers pass away. 
 
 When we ope our eyes each morn, 
 A new woman now is born. 
 
 Cho, Tra-la-la, Love o'er us hovers; 
 Tra-la-la, drops dreams of lovers. 
 Sing a merry roundelay. 
 All our fate has changed this day. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 15 
 
 Sing a merry roundelay, 
 
 What is lovelier, I pray, 
 Than to run your own affairs. 
 
 Who for profs or bells now cares. 
 
 Cho, Tra-la-la. Love o'er us hovers, etc. 
 
 Sing a merry roundelay, 
 
 Gone, Alas, our time for play; 
 
 When we ope our eyes each morn. 
 
 We may wish we'd ne'er been born. 
 
 Cho. Tra-la-la, so don't be glum, 
 
 Shoulder to the wheel, my chum; 
 Sing a fainter roundelay. 
 All our fate has changed this day. 
 (End of Scene /, Act I.) 
 
16 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 ACT I, SCENE 2 
 
 On the stage, half darkened, stage hands flitting here 
 and there placing settings for drawing room. 
 
 Louis Perrault, Virginia Campion, and Clotilde. 
 
 Louis, Ah, I know what you girls are after. 
 Here it is, Miss Valedictorian. May you cover 
 yourself with glory. 
 
 Clo, (Takes paper) Thanks, professor. Then 
 you hadn't the heart to let me make a goose 
 of myself, first from bad rhetoric, and then 
 from bad memory. Are you coming, Virginia? 
 I must go back and see Rosa about something. 
 
 Louis. No, I have business with her (catches 
 
 arm of Virginia, as she is about to follow Clotilde, 
 motioning for her to stay. She answers him in panto- 
 mime, that the girls will laugh at her. He puts his 
 hand over eyes, so as not to see her pantomime. Clo- 
 tilde dissappears back.) 
 
 Oh, I am so glad you haven't gotten any flow- 
 ers yet. Now you can wear these violets. 
 
 Va. English violets, and white. How good 
 of you. I never saw them but once before, 
 and that was when 
 
 Louis, We first met, the day I arrived to 
 take up my arduous duties as Professor of 
 Belles Lettres and Moral Philosophy. A rich 
 old lady on the train gave me the bunch for 
 doing her a trifling service, and I gave them 
 in turn to the first person here who did me 
 a kindness, and who has never ceased doing 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 17 
 
 me kindnesses since. I have no fears I got the 
 only bunch in town, to grace your simple gown 
 —the gown so plain it gave you pain, and 
 drew your tears. 
 
 Va. (Smiling) You will soon be as good a 
 poet as Lizette. But / have fears they were 
 very expensive, dear, and you should not spend 
 the money so necessary to save on mere lux- 
 uries. Cheaper flowers would have looked 
 as well. 
 
 Louis, But not have smelled as well, aheml 
 Also, would not have been good enough for 
 my darling, for whom nothing is quite good 
 enough (gravely). And I have another surprise 
 in store for you, mah honey. 
 
 Va. (With a little scream) What, another? A 
 boughten surprise? (Anxiouiiy) Did it take 
 money? 
 
 Louis, Sure. Did you ever see anything 
 decent that didn't take money? No, chickie, 
 don't scold. It didn't cost much. 
 
 Va, How much? 
 
 Louis, How much? Great Scott. She asks 
 how much instead of what is it. Now, lovie — 
 Va. Well, but, Louis, you know why I 
 am so anxious. You ought to be able to save 
 a little out of your salary. It is a good one 
 for the position. 
 
 Louis, Yes, um— for the position. 
 
18 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Va, Oh, Mr. Spender, if you only wouldn*t 
 be so extravagant — just a little bit more saving, 
 we could— 
 
 Louis, Oh, don't talk about saving. Let's 
 enjoy ourselves while we can. Why, Pm not 
 a spender (in an aggrieved tone). You can't be a 
 spender in such a town as this — neither a high 
 spender nor a low spender. No symphony 
 concerts, no grand opera, no Sherry's, no auto- 
 mobile roads. Once a year a vaudeville show, 
 church festivals once a month, dancing school 
 twice a week: that's the limit of dissipation. 
 Oh, 1 say, Virginia, you ought to be proud 
 that I thought of such a thing, if only to vary 
 the eternal monotony of this everlasting grad- 
 uation business. And it only costs twenty — 
 five dollars— 
 
 Va. (Screaming and starting back) Twenty — five 
 
 —dollars? 
 
 Louis, (Frowning) Yes. 
 
 Va. (Faintly) So — much — money. Oh, Louis, 
 1 saw a furniture advertisement only today in 
 the paper, to — furnish — a whole— kitchen — for 
 — twenty — five — dollars. 
 
 Louis, (Lugubriously) So — much— money ! 
 
 Va, It don't mean much when it promises 
 happiness. 
 
 Louis. For two. Isn't that a bit selfish? 
 Now, I have provided it for— let's see, how 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 1£ 
 
 many are in the class? There are eight girls» 
 I know 
 
 Va, And seven boys. But what of that? 
 
 Louis, Why, don't you see? A class sup- 
 per for fifteen for twenty — five dollars is dirt 
 cheap, and 
 
 Va. (Starting back and throwing up her hands) 
 A — class — supper — for — fifteen— people — for — 
 twenty— five — dollars! when — you — can't — af- 
 ford — to keep — your board paid up — and — 
 pulled the ears— of one of the boys— and lam- 
 basted another — only last week; and two of the 
 girls — gave a party — and cut me off the guest 
 list — you know why — just for jealousy! (sobbing.) 
 
 Louis, (Delighted) That's just it. We'll all 
 make up. It'll be a sort of Pacification — Gua- 
 deamus meeting. Fine idea, I say. Proud 
 of it. 1 fixed the menu myself 
 
 Va, (Moaning) But twenty— five dollars. 
 
 Louis, (Growls) Oh, you little Shylock. 
 
 Va, And I know you haven't the money to 
 pay for it. 
 
 Louis, (Sings) But it's coming. Sister Mary, 
 it's coming, bye — and — bye. End of the month 
 (Puts arms around Virginia) Come nOW , lovie, 
 don't be cross. This is to be a surprise to the 
 class in my name and yours. It's going to be 
 almost as fine as if it was in the city. Listen 
 to the menuy I planned it all myself. (Checks 
 off on fingers.) Cocktails, bluepoints 
 
20 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Va, (Puzzled) Cockstail? What has a cocks- 
 tail to do with a class supper, anyhow? 
 
 Louis, (Sighing and covering hts mouth) Oh, 
 Miss Rural, push the "s'' on a bit. I didn't 
 say cockstail, I said cocktails. 
 
 Va. Well, Where's the difference? Isn't it 
 only a matter of rhetoric whether you put the 
 **s" on the first syllable or on the last? 
 
 Louis. Oh, "s" on the nothing. Cocktails 
 are the finest things to open a supper with 
 that ever were invented by a bar— ur— angel. 
 Aid digestion and establish peace and good will; 
 and this is eminently an occasion where peace 
 and good will should be es 
 
 Va, Establish nothing. I'd rather have the 
 occasion for the kitchen than the occasion for 
 the cocktails. Well, what are they? 
 
 Louis, How concocted? Well, it's a little 
 dash of— but first, it depends on the kind of 
 cocktail you intend to make. If Martinez, you 
 use as its base old TOMgin; if Vermouth, use 
 Vermouth; if Manhattan, use old RYEwhiskey 
 as its base. In making a straight, old-fashioned 
 cocktail, I like Old Scotch best. 
 
 Va, (StiH puzzled) You are talking Greek to 
 me. Martiny, Vermont, Manhattan and Straits 
 — what do you mean? And then the other 
 words I can't quite catch. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 21 
 
 Louis, Well, you've made a good stag- 
 ger at pronouncing those you did catch. 
 
 Va, What's that, dear? Something about 
 staggering? 
 
 Louis, Oh, nothing, it has nothing to do 
 with staggering at all. 
 
 Va, Oh, go on, and tell me what cocktails 
 is, so I can explain it when it is served. 
 
 Louis, Oh, don't, I beg, they are better 
 not explained. They don't take, I mean, re- 
 quire explaining. Better let them be a surprise 
 to you, too, or you might make a — a break 
 — you know, explaining. 
 
 Va, (Dryly) Well, I know what a break is, 
 anyhow. Now I want to know what cocktails 
 is. Make it short and sweet. 
 
 Louis, (Clapping hands) Fine, fine. Just des- 
 cribes it. 
 
 Va. Oh, Louis, don't be ridiculous. I mean 
 the definition, not the cocktails. 
 
 Louis, Yes, I know; nevertheless you ex- 
 actly, thrillingly described a cocktail (kisses his 
 fingertips, then Virginia's lips, as she has approached 
 him confidentially.) A COCktail Is 
 
 Va, A cocktail is 
 
 Louis, A cocktail is a dash — Well, let's say 
 a Manhattan, I like it best— ur— two lumps of 
 sugar, two dashes of Curacoa or Maraschino, 
 one wine glass of Vermouth, three dashes of 
 
22 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Angostura bitters, and a lot of cracked ice — 
 the ice must be cracked not too fine (checking 
 earnestly on his fingers), jUSt fine enough, you 
 know, just as if you intended it for (the last 
 part said very rapidly as a rigmarole) 
 
 Va, Yes, yes, I know, Tve cracked ice fre- 
 quently, you don*t need to dwell on it all day. 
 Seems mostly bitters and a lot of things I can't 
 make out unless cocoa and Maraschino — is it 
 the cherries? and Vermouth — what's that — a 
 play on Vermont? Is that all? 
 
 Louis, Oh, Great Scott, no. And then 
 
 (holds breath, then throws out as one long word) one- 
 
 small-glass-of-old-RYE-whiskey. 
 
 Va. (Puzzled) Old RYEwhiskey? Oh, ah! (Stif- 
 fening and looking severe) One-small-glass-of-rye- 
 WHISKEY. Is that it? 
 
 Louis, (Nervously) Ye-cs, dear, hit it the 
 first time. (Rapidly) It's good for digestion, and 
 you can't imagine how many other things be- 
 sides. (Rubs vest gently and reminiscently) 
 
 Va. (Coldly) Such as Morals and the Pocket 
 Book. 
 
 Louis. Now, don't freeze, Miss Demure. 
 
 Va. Thank you. 
 
 Louis. There, I wont call you that any more. 
 The girls do it not entirely in good nature, I 
 guess. Forgive me, and 
 
 Va. I will, when you cut the cocktails out. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 23 
 
 Louis, Cut 'em out? 
 
 Va, Cut 'em out. 
 
 Louis. (Depressed) You mean the supper? 
 You want the petit souper^ and such a petit 
 souper — dropped? 
 
 Va, I didn't say anything about the supper 
 with the freak name being dropped. I said, Mr. 
 Perrauh, if you wish to give a class festivity, 
 partly in my name, and at which I am to offi- 
 ciate, you will — cut — cocktails — out. I will 
 figure at a festivity, not at an orgy. 
 
 Louis, (Mildly) Are cocktails an orgy? 
 
 Va, Under the circumstances, yes. 
 
 Louis, (Blowing nose and wiping eyes) All right, 
 
 lovie, the orgy is cut out. Only don't call me 
 Mr. Perrault again. I never called you Miss 
 Campion since the second time we met. 
 
 Va, No one can ever accuse you of being 
 backward. (Snuggles up closely to him) That's a 
 good boy. I know you mean well, but you— 
 you want to cultivate a — a spirit of — ur — re- 
 straint, a sense of — ur — responsibility. 
 
 Louis, (Kissing her sadly) Thank you, dear. 
 Do you think they'll miss 'em? 
 
 Va, Miss what? 
 
 Louis, Why, the cocktails, to be sure. 
 
 Va, Silly boy, how can they miss what they 
 do not know was ever on the bill of fare? Not 
 one of them probably ever saw a cocktail. I'm 
 
24 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 sure I haven*!. And think how much smaller 
 the bill will be. 
 
 Louis. Oh, I was just going to say, for the 
 cocktails I could have a string band discours- 
 ing sweet music while 
 
 Va, Nonsense, Mr. Spender. I don't think 
 they could eat to music. In this town every- 
 body always jumps up from the table and runs 
 to the door or windows when music appears 
 on the scene. 
 
 Louis. All right. Miss Miser. 
 
 Va. (Laying head on his shoulder, and winding 
 
 arms about his neck) Oh, Louis, dear Louis, wont 
 you try to remember what is to take place at 
 Christmas time, and that we arc both poor, 
 ambitious, and 
 
 Louis. (Musing) And love each other a mile 
 a minute— don't leave that out. 
 
 Va. And love each other a mile a minute. 
 And that if we wish to be independent and 
 make a home for ourselves, it can't be done 
 without a little money, and we must both work 
 and save, and 
 
 Louis. I will, I will, don't worry, mah honey. 
 I don't know anything grander in the world to 
 save for — if a fellow wanted to save (Sighs; then, 
 before Virginia can reply, bends down and stops her 
 mouth with his lips). 
 
 (Curtain.) 
 {End of Act ;.) 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 25 
 
 ACT II 
 
 Time: A rare Christmas day, sunny, with no sign of 
 winter save lack of greenness. 
 
 Place: A strip of woodland. Virginia, heavily wrapped, 
 half reclines on a shawl on the ground under a 
 tree, a book and a St. Bernard dog her companions. 
 She appears depressed. 
 
 She is reading Browning's "Lines to my Wife" 
 aloud. At the end of each stanza she pauses and 
 looks mournfully at the dog, who gets up, walks a 
 few feet away, looks down the road and whines, 
 comes back again and lies down. After his third 
 trip Virginia speaks to him. 
 
 Va, What is it, Caesar? Why are you un- 
 easy? You don't expect your master here, do 
 you? Why, boy, he don't know where we are. 
 
 Voice, Don't he? (Caesar runs to meet a man 
 approaching from back of the trees, barking joyously.) 
 Though you were on top of the Himalayas, 
 I'd find you, eh, boy? We'll come together, 
 in heaven or hell, Virginia; you can't hide 
 from me, dearest. 
 
 (Seats himself on the shawl near her. Caesar jumps 
 first on one, then on the other. Virginia rises to a 
 sitting posture with a dignified air, pushes away the 
 dog.) 
 
 la, Down, Caesar, you know I'm ill, how 
 can you be so rough. (Dog fawns.) But there, 
 poor fellow, you're better than your master: 
 you, at least, don't desert me when I'm ill. 
 
 Louis, (Jumps angrily to his feet.) Hang it. 
 
26 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Virginia, you give a fellow no peace. You 
 drive me away from you, and then go and hide 
 so I must spend a week finding you. And 
 when I find you, tell me I deserted you. 
 There's no trying to please you. 
 
 Va. There's no necessity to try to please. 
 You only have to act the part of an honorable 
 man and I shall be pleased. 
 
 Louis, (Stubbornly) But, dearest, I have been 
 honorable. I have never been able to set up 
 a home and, therefore, it would have been 
 d/shonorable to have married you. 
 
 Fa. (Bitterly) You have a new code entirely 
 your own, sir. 
 
 Louis. It may be so, but it's rational just 
 the same, and was for our mutual good. 
 
 Va, But you seem to have forgotten it on 
 one occasion — to my undoing. 
 
 Louis, (Sullenly) Why continually reproach 
 me with what was, at least, mutual, even though, 
 unfortunately, you must bear the brunt. As 
 unkind nature fixed it so, it seems to me she 
 might, at least, have given you the greater power 
 of resistance, the greater sense of responsibility. 
 
 Va, (With a sharp cry, covering her fac» with her 
 hands) Oh, that I must bear your reproaches, 
 as well as the world's and my own. 
 
 Louis, (Huskily) I am sorry I said it, Nin, 
 'deed I am. No, I'm hanged if I am. Why 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 27 
 
 not be true to ourselves, Virginia: you, a wom- 
 an so good, I a man so rational— Oh, I know 
 what you think— so selfish. But I tell you it*s 
 sense— it's logic. How can it be selfishness, 
 when I love you, and selfishness would sug- 
 gest marriage? So I say, a man so rational, a 
 woman so good and wise, ought to look the 
 thing squarely in the face for themselves, with- 
 out fear of what people will say. 
 
 Va, (Mournfully) Do you know what day this 
 is? Christmas day. It was to have been our 
 wedding day. 
 
 LouiSy (After a silence, and ignoring her remark) 
 WeVe been unwise, as thousands of people 
 have been before us, in not consulting our 
 pocket books before uniting our lives. Why 
 be more unwise? Why double our burdens 
 because we can not carry the ones we have 
 already? Rational people ought to know better 
 than to try to repair one blunder by making 
 another. Some day I can take you and set up 
 a decent establishment as a real home with a 
 wife in it; but till then you must wait. It's no 
 use to nag at me to save. It's not my nature 
 and I don't wish it to be. A saving nature is 
 always more or less niggardly, and niggardly 
 in one thing is niggardly in another. Give me 
 time. Don't push me, Virginia, that's a dear. 
 I haven't a damned thing in view now, though 
 
28 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 IVe run and applied till I've sweat blood. We 
 can live apart, earn a dollar here, a dollar 
 there, and encourage each other, till Vm settled 
 one way or the other. We'd commit suicide 
 together; or lead a starved, morbid, unideal life, 
 without a chance for either to mature, or do 
 the best for self or mate. Can't you take a 
 newer, higher way of looking at things? Don't 
 push me. 
 
 Va. Is there any newer way of looking at a 
 woman's disgrace than the old one? Will you 
 show me how to invoke Nature's leniency in 
 my behalf, as you invoke my leniency in your 
 behalf? (Rises feebly to her feet, and leans against 
 the tree.) 
 
 Louis, (Slowly) I might— teach you — if I 
 knew — if — (suddenly) Why dfd you run away? 
 Why come to this out-of-the-way hole — 
 
 Va, To hide my shame. (A long pause. Dog 
 
 whines and licks Virginia's hands.) 
 
 Louis, (Coming nearer. In a low voice and hesi- 
 tatingly.) Virginia — Nin — I — I — thought — I im- 
 agined — it was that. And I've thought pretty 
 hard on the subject, and I've decided that if 
 we could only begin all over again — fresh — go 
 right back to our courtship days when you 
 were little Miss Demure and I Mr. Spender- 
 how long ago it seems when we could joke so 
 at each other!— if only we could do that, we 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 29 
 
 would not make this mistake again. You would 
 not tempt me— (with a smile of tender blandishment) 
 
 Va. The woman tempted me and I ate. 
 
 Louis, (Hardening) I'd learn to resist your 
 impatience, your objections to a long engage- 
 ment 
 
 Va, You reproach me with imy love. 
 
 Louis. For both our sakes, if only we were 
 back again! And — there's only one way — that 
 I can see — (very rapidly) Nin, you must never 
 have changed — so far as the world knows. You 
 must be the same innocent 'school girl (pausing) 
 without encumbrances, 
 
 Va, (Sinking at the foot of the tree) How? I 
 do not understand. 
 
 Louis, (Taking something from his pocket. Reaches 
 a small package to her.) I got this from a friend 
 who graduated from a medical college of my 
 alma mater. He doesn't believe women should 
 bear the whole burden of mutual indiscretions. 
 It is harmless, and I have enough money to 
 tide you over. And, Virginia 
 
 Va, (Struggling to her knees. Snatches package, 
 looks at it carefully, and half whispers) Poison. For 
 —the — child! — Our Child! (Clasps package to her 
 bosom) If I go too, it don't matter much. If 
 I escape— What? You marry me. 
 
 Louis, (Agitated) Don't, I tell you. I can't 
 stand it. I've thought it over till my head's 
 
30 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 addled. (Sinks to his knees. She rises and shrinks 
 away:) Virginia, I tell you, I love you. (Ex- 
 tending his arms) I love you SO much that I want 
 it to be worth your while to be my partner 
 
 Va, Oh, Louis, Louis, is this the love that 
 beckons Woman on the threshold of Life? 
 
 Louis, (Sitting « back on heels, very vehement) 
 That is not Life but a Dream Existence. In 
 real life, it is not a question of love, but of 
 Lovers! There is something in Life besides 
 the routine of satisfying physical wants and 
 getting and begetting children. I want to make 
 something of my life; to use the faculties Na- 
 ture bestowed on me before they are numbed 
 or killed by grinding care or toil. It*s no use 
 10 sentamentalize over the beauties of a Home 
 —the incentive to Labor of having Wife and 
 Children. It's bathos in most cases, pathos 
 in a few, and tragedy in one of a hundred. 
 It's all right for a man whose whole ambition 
 in life is realized when he has finished his 
 trade, or learned t© plead a case, or mend a 
 broken limb. He wants a home then, and the 
 house and wife and children are the great needs 
 
 of his life, (jumps to his feet, clenching hands at 
 
 his side). But a man who is just making up to 
 Life when his trade or profession is acquired, 
 a man who is not over the smiles or tears of 
 boyhood yet when caught in the toils of Love, 
 Home, a Wife, a Child,— are—Poison! 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 31 
 
 Va, (Steps back. Sways slightly, hand on tree 
 trunk supporting her; then sinks slowly to a sitting 
 posture. With sudden energy rising to her knees, ex- 
 tends her arms from shoulder outward and backward, 
 head up and back) And this, then, iS the REAL 
 
 LOUIS! The amusing, affectionate, care-free 
 Mr. Spender was a fiction, or a mask I 
 (Flings package as far as she can and speaks with 
 
 wild energy) You are not the man I knew. You 
 are not the man I loved. You ARE not a man 
 AT ALL! Out— of— my— sight— You TOAD. 
 
 (At the last word she crooks her fingers, scoops as 
 if to lift something from the ground and throw it out- 
 ward and broadcast, with a strong shudder. The act 
 and words take all her strength and she sinks in a 
 heap forward, her head on the ground, her arms 
 crossed over it.) 
 
 (Louis is struck dumb. Recoils, advances, reaches 
 toward her, shrinks back with terror in his eyes, as 
 though wondering whether she were dead. He sinks 
 on one knee, his brow almost resting on the other, his 
 hands clasped about his ankle. Caesar stands near, 
 looking from one to the other, whining disconsolately.) 
 (Curtain.) 
 (End of Act 2.) 
 
32 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 ACT III, SCENE 1 
 
 Time: One year after graduation day. 
 Place: Garden of Nietsche residence. 
 
 Lizette comes down from the house porch, opens 
 gate and admits a fine-looking, middle-aged Jewish 
 woman, elegantly dressed. 
 
 Liz. Why, dear Aunt Anita, so glad to see 
 you. I was coming up this afternoon, as soon 
 as I got rested. You know I just arrived this 
 morning. How's Uncle Jacob, and Cousin 
 George and Rachel and David 
 
 AnL All well, my dear, all well. Of course, 
 George is always so excitable and nervous. No, 
 I wont go in, it's so lovely out here (Sits on a 
 garden bench). But I came on a mission, my dear, 
 and I hope you'll forgive me for not plunging 
 into your affairs at first. But the matter 'that 
 brought me here is very pressing. The gover- 
 ness is gone again, been gone a week, and the 
 Rabbi does raise such a fuss if the children 
 neglect their lessons. Now, even before the 
 governess left, I was thinking of that young 
 girl who graduated with you and was to coach 
 Miss McNamara for Vassar 
 
 Liz. You mean Clotilde? 
 
 Ani. I suppose so. Of course. Miss Mc- 
 Namara wont want her now that she has dis- 
 appeared, and I made up my mind to have 
 this— this Clotilde as soon as you wrote me 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 33 
 
 that Miss McNamara had gone, before the gov- 
 erness left. She was valedictorian, wasn't she? 
 
 Liz, Why yes. Auntie, awful smart girl and 
 good as gold. But I guess you can't have her. 
 
 Ani, (Disappointedly) Why not? Has she, 
 too, run away to marry some bogus count? 
 
 Liz, No. Don't be too hard on Rosa. She's 
 the best ever. When she decided to — to do 
 what she did, she wrote a letter to Clotilde and 
 another to an aunt of hers on the Vassar faculty, 
 and— well, Clotilde's at Vassar coaching and 
 so on, to work her way through. 
 
 Ani, Well, she is a queer one — I mean 
 your Rosa. 
 
 Liz, She's a good one, if she is wild. I do 
 hope no harm comes to her. She was awfully 
 good to me — treated me like a sister. 
 
 Ani. I hope, my dear child, you did your 
 best to soften her father's heart toward the poor 
 wild young thing. 
 
 Liz Oh, bless you, you dear, soften his 
 heart! Why, he couldn't be hard-hearted, he's 
 just like Rosa. He nearly went wild for fear 
 some harm should come to her; and, after that, 
 he just got a nice old German lady for pro- 
 priety's sake 
 
 Ani, Very nice of him, I'm sure 
 
 Liz, And prolonged our trip, hoping she'd 
 come back to us. We went back to Monte 
 
34 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Carlo, the Riviera, all the places he thought 
 sheM go. I believe the rogue was near us a 
 good bit of the time. He*s given up Vassar 
 now, and is willing to help her make a go of 
 the actress proposition whenever she*s ready 
 to come home and let him. Isn't it queer we 
 don't get news of her? When the count was 
 exposed, a month after the wedding in London, 
 and turned out to be a poor young Polish actor, 
 she disappeared with him and we've never seen 
 or heard of her since. 
 
 Ani. Very strange. So I can't have Clo- 
 tilde. And oh, your uncle insists on a tutor, 
 and I don't approve of it, on account of Rachel: 
 she is so impressionable. 
 
 Liz. (With a shrug) I should say it would be 
 well to have her impressionability worn off in 
 her early teens, Auntie. It would be a good 
 thing for lots of girls (sighing.) They wouldn't be 
 having the heart-break once a month for years 
 after; and they'd know a good chance when 
 they saw it, if it wasn't a gay young cavalier. 
 But don't worry. Why wouldn't Virginia 
 Campion do as well as Clotilde? You know 
 her? The girl 
 
 Ani, Why, of course (looking around her un- 
 easily.) Such a pity— didn't you hear? After you 
 went to Europe, your Uncle David gave her 
 a position in his shoestore 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 35 
 
 Liz. (Aside) My position, ahem! Who*d think. 
 Virginia. 
 
 Ani, I thought it a pity she couldn't do better 
 — such a superior, womanly girl. 
 
 Liz, And the brainiest in the class, not bar- 
 ring Clotilde. I think she*d do as well, Auntie. 
 She had a knack for teaching, anyway. I dare 
 say she's studying for college. I wonder what 
 became of her engagement to Prof. Perrault. 
 
 Ani. That's the queer thing about it. Of 
 course, I told you he was not re-engaged at 
 the High School. Stayed in the metropolis to 
 study law, I heard. She suddenly disappeared 
 a few weeks after taking the position and just 
 when the Fall trade was getting heavy. Your 
 Uncle David was so vexed, for she had al- 
 ready become quite valuable. When he called 
 at their house, even her parents did not know 
 where she was. At least, they said so. 
 
 Liz. (Striking an attitude) Another mysterious 
 disappearance! Another chance for my great 
 talents. I'll find her for you, Auntie. Do you 
 know (in a thrilling whisper) I'm a regular sleuth 
 (her aunt starts, then laughs). You can laugh, 
 but I'll tell you what nobody else knows — 
 not even Mr. McNamara. I've got a trace of 
 Rosa, and I got it, Sh— h— h— h, in— a— reg- 
 ular Sherlock Holmes way. Listen. After we 
 returned to this country, while still in New 
 
36 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 York, I wrote a letter to each of the leading 
 theatres where the actor might be playing. No 
 answer. Then I wrote a tender, pathetic letter 
 to Rosa herself, addressed it to her surname 
 and her husband's name, care General Delivery. 
 No answer. Then I wrote out this: **The Foil 
 would like to communicate with the Statuesque 
 Blonde. Daddy willing to be Angel," and put 
 it in the personal column and in the Lost and 
 Founds of all the big papers. Oh, it cost awful, 
 all my spending money for a month. But wasn't 
 it a superb idea? Worthy of— of Scotland Yard? 
 But alas, no reply, till we came back home. 
 This ifiorning I got (hissing) an unsigned — letter 
 —giving me~a certain address — in New York 
 City — where I— can reach — the Statuesque 
 Blonde! Mind you, don't say she is there. 
 But! we'll see what we'll see. And I'll find 
 Virginia for you. 
 
 Ani. Well, dear, if you do, you'll oblige 
 two distracted mothers — that is if her's don't 
 know where she is. And — if no harm's 
 come to her. 
 
 Liz, Why, isn't that the greater reason why 
 I should find her, and why her mother should 
 be glad to see her if harm has come to her? 
 
 Ani, (Hesitatingly) Yes, but you know dear, 
 there are some kinds of harm 
 
 Liz. Oh yes, I see, ahem! (They look at each 
 
• LOVE AND LOVERS 37 
 
 other and shake heads dismally.) Well, I'll find her, 
 come weal, come woe, bad news good news. 
 
 Ani. We'll have you going into the Sherlock 
 Holmes business yet. Hope you will make 
 your fortune, child. 
 
 Liz, I need to. But there's a chance. Mr. 
 McNamara offers a big reward for Rosa. One 
 thousand for a good clew, ten thousand for her- 
 self, alive and in good health. I've earned the 
 one thousand, I know. Ten thousand for her 
 alive and in good health-~I don't know about 
 the health, but I'll get her, I know. 
 
 Ani, (Smiling) I don't suppose Virginia's par- 
 ents can pay you anything. But if you'll get 
 Virginia, and she's in a condition to take the 
 position I offer inside of a month, I'll give 
 you one hundred dollars down in your hand. 
 
 Liz, (Cutting a caper) As good as earned, tra- 
 la-la. Might as well give it to me now. Auntie. 
 
 Ani, Not by a long shot, you foolish child. 
 You've got to earn it, and that's not perhaps 
 so easy as you think. But, seems to me, you've 
 become much like that gay Rosa. Is that what 
 a European trip has done for you? You never 
 were flippant before. I hope it's only skin 
 deep. 
 
 Liz, Well, maybe. But if you had to pose 
 as a Romantic, pensive gipsy maid for six 
 long months as I did, to act as a foil for Rosa, 
 
38 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 you would have some bottled up spirits to ex- 
 hibit too. 
 
 Ani, (Shading her eyes) Who is that lady ap- 
 proaching? Her figure seems familiar to me. 
 Why it— look, Lizette, who is it? (Lady joins 
 them at the gate.) 
 
 Liz, (In mock anguish) It is — it is — Rosal Oh, 
 Rosa, this was not your cue. Your appearance 
 at this stage of the proceedings has cost me — 
 
 just ten thousand — dollars. (Sits on gate and ap- 
 plies handkerchief to her eyes.) 
 
 Rosa, La la! It is you who seem to miss 
 your cues all around. Six months in Europe 
 with Daddy, and didn't catch him— foolish girl! 
 Next time I run away, Til give you a diagram 
 of what it is possible for you to accomplish 
 before I get back. And also, send a telegram 
 when Tm coming back. 
 
 Ani. (Laughing) She was just saying she was 
 a sleuth and had a clue to your whereabouts, 
 and would get a reward. 
 
 Rosa. She ought to have a clue, seeing I 
 sent her a nice anonymous letter a month ago. 
 YouVe dead slow, Lizette, not fit for anything 
 but a poet. Til have to knock your head and 
 daddy's together, and tell you you can have 
 each other. 
 
 Liz, (Blushing and indignant) Don*t talk SO 
 
 foolish, Rosa, as if I was a regular adventuress. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 39 
 
 Now, it only wants for Virginia to turn up and 
 I throw up my hands. No chance for poor 
 Lizette to make a fortune as Sherlock Holmes. 
 
 Rosa. Then throw them up, for Virginia 
 isn't lost any more than I am. But never 
 mind. Til not give it away if there's a reward 
 in it for you. 
 
 Ani, Oh, only a matter of one hundred 
 dollars if Lizette can find her for governess 
 for me, Lizette tells me you have Clotilde at 
 Vassar. 
 
 Rosa. (Swinging gate and Lizette, who is sing- 
 ing "The Swing Song") Yes, 1 had to provide a 
 way for the dear when I cheated her out of 
 the position daddy had provided for her. But 
 I think I'd rather have Lizette for a stepmother 
 than Clotilde. Daddy is very impressionable, 
 you know, and Clotilde would make me go to 
 college, I know. How did daddy take my get- 
 away, Lizette? 
 
 Ani. Oh, this is going to be very private, 
 I see, so I'll go. Lizette, if you hear proper 
 news of Miss Campion, and put me in com- 
 munication with her, I'll jpay you as sleuth. 
 Good-bye, girls. Come around and see us. 
 Father always liked you, Miss McNamara. 
 
 Liz. Yes, uncle's taste always leans towards 
 blondes, though he did marry a brunette. Good- 
 bye, Auntie. 
 
40 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Rosa, Good-bye, Mrs. Nazimova. 
 
 Ani, Auf wieder sehen, girls. (Goes out 
 
 gate, tnd off L. L. E.) 
 
 Rosa, You little monkey, you don't look 
 much as if you had grieved over my disappear- 
 ance. 
 
 Liz, Oh, the grief stunt was all used up 
 during the months I was foil. Tve got months 
 to laugh yet to get even. 
 
 Rosa, Sure enough, poor child, I was hard 
 on you during the period I was playing at life. 
 But tell me, didn't you get the anonymous 
 letter? 
 
 Liz, Tell me where Virginia is first, 
 
 Rosa. A story for a story. Tm first. 
 
 Liz, (Pouting) You always were. 
 
 Rosa, That's so. And to show you I'm 
 really improved, here is Virginia's story first. 
 Poor girl, she's been months in a hospital in 
 New York, just out a month ago. Lucky I ran 
 across her or (with a shrug) 
 
 Liz, (Breathless) Did he desert her? And oh, 
 you dear, you kept her. 
 
 Rosa, Desert her? I think she ran away 
 from him. Kept her? Well, no, I guess we 
 all starved together, Stephen, and Virginia and 
 I. There's more comfort in that, say what you 
 will, than starving alone, which is gruesome, 
 to say the least. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 41 
 
 Liz, We all — Stephen, Virginia and I, 
 ahem! 
 
 Rosa. Yes, you little goose, did you ever 
 hear of anyone eloping alone? Virginia and I 
 and my actor; the one who called on me at 
 graduation. 
 
 Liz, (Whistling) Phew-ew-ew! 
 
 Rosa, ^0 you caught that from me, litde 
 monkey. 
 
 Liz, So now youVe an actor-ess? 
 
 Rosa, No, handmaiden to an actor, which 
 is different. / shall not appear on the boards 
 until I make my peace with daddy and turn him 
 into an angel. What's the use of being rich, 
 if you have to grovel at the foot of the ladder! 
 I mean to start at the top. That's what angels 
 are for, and I think daddy would make a first 
 class one. 
 
 Liz, He's one already— I mean ready to be 
 one. And lucky for you he's a blood relation. 
 So much more respectable. But that's not all 
 of Virginia's story. Why the hospital? Why 
 the disappearance, as auntie tells me? 
 
 Rosa, Oh, that's another story. But let us 
 go into the house. I've so much to tell you 
 and to hear. 
 
 (Exit into the house, talking, and arms about each 
 other.) 
 
 (End of Scene /, Act III,) 
 
42 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 ACT III, SCENE 2 
 
 Time: Three years after graduation. 
 
 Place: Drawing room of the Nazimovas. Rabbi Na- 
 
 zimova sitting in the middle of the room, reading. 
 
 Virginia Campion sitting at the table looking over 
 
 some engravings. 
 
 (Enter George Nazimova, arm in sling, and dragged 
 and pushed by Rachel and David. George dis- 
 engages himself from the children, crosses the 
 room and takes his stand silently near Virginia.) 
 
 Rack. He saved a lady, he saved — I saw 
 him — our George. 
 
 Dav. Just caught her up — as easy like this 
 —from in front of the tram car as he sat in 
 the auto — 
 
 Rack, All the people hurrahed— 
 
 Dav. The lady fainted. Oh, I tell you, it 
 was a close shave, wasn't it, Geordy? Why 
 the car was over the place she lay in the wink 
 of an eye. 
 
 Rack, Brother is hurt. His side is sprained. 
 He had to reach so far over, the doctor at the 
 hospital said— 
 
 Dav, And the auto, the steering gear is all 
 
 knocked out. (The children go over and hang onto 
 their brother. Virginia looks dazed. Rabbi throws 
 book on the floor and springs to his feet, flinging up 
 his arms.) 
 
 Rab, (Ecstatically) Oh, my ,son, blessed is 
 my son. Blessed am I in my son. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 43 
 
 Geo. (Hanging his head) It was nothing — what 
 any man would have done. 
 
 Rack. Taint so. There were lots of men 
 around, and not one started to do it. 
 
 Dav, But our George, he did it. 
 
 Rab. The God of Israel intended my son 
 to have the honor (fervently). 
 
 Va, (Rising and pushing her chair back) How 
 fine. How splendid. And to think there are 
 no rewards befitting such acts. A life risked 
 to save a life. 
 
 Geo. (Dropping to his knees exalted) There iS. 
 There is nothing I could do, were it indeed 
 superhuman, that you could not give me a re- 
 ward, full and overflowing. 
 
 Rab. My son, you do not do noble deeds 
 for rewards. 
 
 Rack. Oh, father, let him be. He did it, 
 what matter the reason? (Goes over and pulls her 
 father's sleeve, and whispers) He*S gone On Miss 
 Campion, don*t you know? 
 
 Va. (Embarassed) Gladly I would reward 
 you, if I could. 
 
 Geo. (Half forward position, on one knee, hands 
 extended toward Virginia) I will be generous. 
 (Pauses: then suddenly seized with a gust of passion) 
 Generous. I will not ask what I crave for most. 
 I will be generous. (His head sinks against her hip. 
 He seizes her hand in both his. She looks frightened.) 
 
44 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Rack. (Explanatorily) He got a hurt, father. 
 
 Va. Get a doctor. He must be seriously 
 hurt. He is flighty. 
 
 Rab. Run you, David, for your mother. 
 No, it is not an injury to aught save the heart. 
 I know those transports. They are not physical 
 pain— it is the heart. 
 
 Va. Why, he does not look delicate. 
 
 Rab. He is not. You do not understand. 
 You are a maiden. Go, David, you and Rachel, 
 and tell your mother all about your brother's act. 
 
 (Exit David. Rabbi motions to Rachel. She shakes 
 her shoulder negatively, and then affects not to see 
 his motions. Retires Iback /of George, her eyes anx- 
 iously on Virginia) 
 
 Geo, (Partly reviving) One kiss is all I ask. 
 I will be generous. It is so little to you. 
 
 Rack, (With childish dignity) One kiss is all 
 he asks. Miss Campion will give it gladly. 
 Did she not say so? Control yourself, brother. 
 You know it hurts you, the doctor says. 
 
 Geo, (Half rising. Seizes Virginia's garments, covers 
 them and her hands and bosom with kisses, muttering) 
 
 A kiss — a touch on the lips: that is all I ask. 
 
 Rab, I beg you. Miss Campion, control the 
 boy. It is not seemly, such behavior before 
 children — and the woman you love, my son! 
 But oh, he does not hear me, poor boy. These 
 transports, alas, I know them'well. They are of 
 the hot, passionate blood of the Nazimova youth. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 45 
 
 Va, (Stoops and takes George's head in her hands, 
 lays her cheek to his burning forehead. He begins to 
 grow calm, shaking visibly. She sinks into her chair, 
 he dropping on his knees beside her, his eyes closed. 
 She presses her lips to his. A deathly pallor over- 
 spreads his face, he faints. She lays his head in her 
 lap.) He must be hurt. Is the doctor coming? 
 I can not believe he is not hurt. 
 
 Rack. What if brother is dead. (Wringing 
 her hands) Some day he will die so, the doctor 
 says. 
 
 Rab. Go, bring your mother, daughter. Do 
 not alarm her, your brother is not dead. And 
 you and David, do not return. 
 (Exit Rachel) 
 
 (Musing) Well I know those transports. Many 
 a terrible scene they gave me in my youth, 
 before Anita was won. How hard a master 
 is Passion, and how it tears from you dignity 
 and seemliness of conduct. Twas not until 
 the mastery of my spirit was assured that my 
 good father permitted us to wed, that thus our 
 children might be of calmer blood— Anita was 
 so virginal, serene and stately! But lo, after 
 marriage, she showed to be of the same mad 
 make as I, more uncontrolled, as woman ever 
 is: in love a whirlwind that oft affrighted 
 me with jealous spasms quite uncalled for 
 (turning to Virginia). But you, sweet gentile, pas- 
 sionless and kindly— to unite with you were a 
 
46 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 wise thing to strengthen a weakening stock. 
 True, I am a Hebrew, but a Hebrew now is 
 not as the Hebrew of yore. I see that the 
 chosen of God are of every race. I could bless 
 this union. Yea, daughter, even though you 
 had done a sin, for truly a sin that can make 
 a woman like you is a blessed sin. 
 
 Va, (As he speaks, throws up her head with a 
 gasp. Then the color mounts slowly to her cheeks 
 and her head sinks to her bosom. She clasps her 
 hands over George's head, murmuring incoherently) 
 
 But he — good Rabbi, he has not— George has 
 not even asked mc 
 
 Rab, My child, is not Love, such mad Love 
 — ever asking? Ever longing? What else did 
 he mean when he said he would not ask what 
 he wished? It was your hand, surely, child. 
 And now I, Rabbi Jacob Nazimova, do sol- 
 emnly ask of you to unite with one of my 
 stock. It will be well with you. 
 
 Va, But you — he — you should ask — seek 
 some information 
 
 Rab. Yes, I understand. I should ask your 
 father. But, is your heart — your body — his 
 to give? Are you any longer a child that you 
 should not be consulted first? No, you own 
 yourself under the living God. I ask you to 
 unite with my family— to marry George. 
 
 Va, But I must— there are things you must 
 be told 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 47 
 
 Rab, You shall tell me afterwards. "(Enter 
 Anita) Anita, my love, behold the betrothed 
 wife of our son George. 
 
 Ani, (Throwing up her hands) Betrothed tO 
 George! 
 
 (Curtain) 
 End of Scene 2, Act III, 
 
48 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 ACT II, SCENE 3 
 
 Time, evening of the same day. 
 
 Place: Library of the Nazimova residence. Rabbi writ- 
 ing at a table, near low French window on right. 
 Archway into hall at rear, with heavy portieres. 
 (A knock.) 
 
 Rab. (In stentorian tones) Come in. (Enter 
 Virginia.) Ah, my daughter, sit down. What 
 shall I do for you? 
 
 Va, (Remains standing, much agitated, as indica- 
 ted by her rapid, jerky utterance, and the clasping and 
 unclasping of her hands.) I came tO talk with yoU, 
 
 Mr. Nazimova, of the — the matter — I referred 
 to in connection with my marriage to George. 
 
 Rab. Yes, yes, all right, child. Another 
 time will do, as my mind*s made up. I am 
 sure it can not be much. Perhaps some mem- 
 ber of your family has gone wrong: no matter. 
 Or some childish peccadillo of your own. But 
 you are young — have been two years with us. 
 What can have occured previous to this to soil 
 the soul of a mere child? Nothing serious. 
 
 Va, But it was serious. 
 ' Rab, Nothing hidden. 
 
 Va, But it has — it is a secret. 
 
 Rab, Nothing the world would condemn? 
 
 Va, But the world has condemned it, time 
 out of mind. 
 
 Rab, (Rising) Nothing very blameworthy in 
 you — no sin in you: something another did in 
 wrong of you. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 49 
 
 Va. But it is considered most blameworthy 
 — and equally my doing. I — and someone — 
 broke a law of society. 
 
 Rub. (Coming forward with a perplexed air) No- 
 thing the world would heavily punish. Such 
 a child. Why, you are just twenty-one. 
 
 Va. But the world does heavily — most 
 heavily — punish the infraction of that law, 
 with (the Rabbi leans forward anxiously) os- 
 tracism, when not worse! 
 
 Rab. (Faiteringiy) But — but — it — was nothing 
 — nothing tragical? 
 
 Va. But it is tragical. It is what is wrong 
 at one time, right at another. A curse when 
 not a blessing; an obeying of the command of 
 God now, and again a disobeying of the law 
 of man. And always more clearly can we per- 
 ceive the reason for punishment for the break- 
 ing of man's law than we can realize the bless- 
 ing of obedience to God's law. It is our 
 blindness. 
 
 Rab. (Relieved. Seating himself) Yes, that is 
 
 good philosophy, daughter. But I can not see 
 why you should exaggerate what I am sure 
 
 was a petty foible 
 
 Va. Was it a petty foible for which the 
 
 old Puritans prescribed (Rabbi half rises, face 
 
 turned anxiously toward her) fines, the whipping 
 
 post, and 
 
50 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Rab. (Anxiously) And 
 
 Va, (Dropping her head) A punishment of 
 marriage! 
 
 Rab. (Bounces upright, crying shrilly) Still trans- 
 ports of Passion. Am I never to escape them? 
 (He stands transfixed a moment, his tall, slim figure 
 in breathless rigidity. Virginia appears resigned. Slow- 
 ly and musingly, as he relaxes) So that is all — I 
 
 feared it was a mean act. How it follows me. 
 (To Virginia kindly) But, child, you cannot mean — 
 you were a school girl, a mere child, three years 
 ago. You cannot mean you had any guilt in the 
 matter? You must have been the injured party. 
 
 Va. (Veariiy) Well, have it as you please, 
 Mr. Nazimova. The world, of course, will a- 
 gree with you, even while punishing me cru- 
 elly. But he was little older and holds me 
 equally responsible. I am sure that, if he did 
 not think so, he would have married me. But, 
 bad as it was, it was not so bad as if I had 
 been the injured party. 
 
 Rab, How? I do not understand. And yet 
 — yet (a sudden light breaking in on him) I do un- 
 derstand. Surely, if you disobeyed the law 
 willingly, then have you the fruit of evil doing. 
 Knowledge. And knowledge is strength. Did 
 I not say that when 1 welcomed you? (He ad- 
 vances) Yes, yes, dear daughter, welcome again, 
 thrice welcome. I do not ask more of the story. 
 You have told me you did wrong. I see the 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 51 
 
 result. You are ennobled. You have been 
 melted in the crucible of suffering and have 
 come out pure gold— pure gold. 
 
 Va, (Turns away hopelessly. Then toward him 
 again) But, my dear Mr. Nazimova, I made 
 this revelation for another reason than your gen- 
 erous heart supposes. My grief, my remorse, 
 is not that I yielded to Love, but to a base 
 Love, all passion. What I have learned is to 
 fear Passion. 
 
 Rab, (Nodding his head) Yes, yes, it is to be 
 feared— when uncontrolled. 
 
 Va. Your son 
 
 Rab. Needs just such a wife as you to 
 guide and elevate him, to teach him the wis- 
 dom of ruling the physical by the spiritual. 
 But hush, daughter, I hear my wife's step. 
 Let this be between us — not a word to her. 
 You know the old saying: No woman is good 
 enough for the son of another woman. (Laughs 
 and shakes his head Enter Anita.) 
 
 Ani. There is a gentleman on the porch 
 wishes to talk with you. Father. He would 
 not come in. Said it was so warm, if you would 
 not mind, he would see you out there. 
 
 Rab. Who can it be? Ah, somebody to 
 congratulate me on George's noble act. I will 
 
 see him at once. (Exit Rabbi through window.) 
 
 Ani. Did you tell him, my dear? 
 
52 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Va, Yes, but it is useless. I could not 
 finish. He is determined to think me flawless, 
 and the only woman suited to his idolized son. 
 (Aside.) Foolish man! 
 
 Ani. (Reproachfully) At least he is foolish in 
 a grand way, as he has ever been, my Jacob. 
 
 Va, Yes, yes, dear Mrs. Nazimova. Do 
 not think I undervalue his generous heart. It 
 was but the momentary petulance of a bitter 
 spirit. 
 
 Ani. Ah, my dear, I wish you could love 
 George. How easy it would all be, then. 
 
 Va, (With sudden passion) I never can. I — I 
 do not even do him the justice of liking him. 
 He is splendid, physically, mentally, morally, 
 I know it, in spite of his affliction. Even the 
 fierce ardors of his love would be very Heaven 
 to some women*s desires. But I, oh, forgive 
 me, you who have been so good a friend, help- 
 ing me even while you condemned me, I can 
 not bear him near me, because of all these 
 
 (bitterly) SPLENDORS! Most of all for the last. 
 
 Ani. (Hurt) Yet you kissed him well enough, 
 Jacob says. 
 
 Va. Yes, I kissed him, but,— must I say it? 
 Is there nothing but humiliation for me? First 
 I pictured him another man who never could 
 do so noble an act as the one for which I re- 
 warded George so ignobly. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 53 
 
 Ani, (Astonished) You love him yet? I thought 
 he had become the least part of the dead past. 
 (Dejectedly.) 
 
 Va, I do not know. I only know that the 
 chords of my being can never respond to the 
 love of any other man. The passion may have 
 been base. The world says so because we 
 forgot Man's law; but the anguish is over, the 
 debt is paid, the storm is stilled. Yet the heart 
 is unchanged, the love still lingers. And oh, 
 the shame of it. 
 
 Ani, Child, you are young. 
 
 Va. But this I see more clearly as I get 
 older. Oh, even his meannesses take on a 
 glimmer of right. Some day (with a shudder) I 
 know they will seem right, 
 
 Ani. God forbid. But there may come a 
 time, child, when you may see his passion more 
 clearly — the world is not always right! And if 
 it is granted you to see it in the same light 
 you see your own, you will forgive him. I 
 will not urge you to marry George, with your 
 heart in another's keeping. He is too good— - 
 and too uncontrolled— to get an iceberg for a 
 wife, however wise and kind she might be. 
 
 Va, But I will marry him if he and his 
 father insist. 
 
 (Rabbi speaks without -Yes, yes, come this way. 
 She is in the library now.) 
 
54 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Ani» (Looks affrighted at the window on the porch) 
 Virginia, I did not tell you who it was that 
 came to see the Rabbi. It is— He, 
 
 (Virginia throws up her hands and looks about for 
 an avenue of escape) 
 
 Rab. (While stepping over the ledge of the low 
 French window) My dear Virginia, here is a gen- 
 tleman to see you — a Mr. Perrault, who used 
 to 
 
 (Virfinia is dragged out of room by Anita toward hall) 
 Rab. Why, what can ail the women: Vir- 
 ginia, usually so calm, Anita so dignified. 
 (Looks at Perrault, whose aspect is one of terrible dis- 
 appointment, even anger, as he fixes his gaze on the 
 door through which the women have gone) Ah-h-h-h! 
 (Curtain.) 
 (End of Act ///.) 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 55 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Time; A month later, at 6 P. M. 
 Place: Outside the Synagogue. 
 
 Two carriages ire drawn up at the curb, left of stage. 
 Sidewalk, parked on each side, occupies middle; 
 to right is a green in front of Synagogue, which 
 stands diagonally across the right rear corner of 
 stage, a long flight of ornamental steps leading up 
 to the great entrance. An electric mast arm hangs 
 over sidewalk near carriages. 
 
 Out of the first carriage step David, Rachel, Anita 
 and the Rabbi. 
 
 Out of the next steps Virginia, in bridal attire 
 
 As she reaches the pavement, the Rabbi passes into 
 the Synagogue. 
 
 As she reaches the green near foot of steps, out of 
 the shadow of an abutment of the building steps 
 a man, who gazes at Virginia as she stands on the 
 edge of the circle of light from the mast arm. 
 
 Man, Virginia Campion. 
 
 Ani. (With a start, stepping in front of Virginia) 
 
 It is Louis Perrault. What do you wish, sir? 
 What has brought you here at such a time as 
 this? 
 
 Louis, Is it not a public occasion? Could 
 I not be a guest? 
 
 Ani, Children, go into the Synagogue, and 
 tell father and brother we shall be in presently. 
 You need not mention what is keeping us. 
 
 Dav, He will come out. 
 
 Rack, Why, if father asks, what can we say? 
 
56 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Ani. Go at once. You can be diplomatic 
 
 enough when you choose. (Exeunt David and 
 Rachel unwillingly, up steps into Synagogue, the latter 
 looking back and saying to David) 
 
 Rack, It is the man who called father out 
 on the porch a month ago— when mother and 
 Miss Campion ran off next door. 
 
 Ani, Nov/ speak, and quickly. What has 
 brought you here, Mr. Perrault? 
 
 Louis, Speak quickly. Oh, yes, I must not 
 detain a wedding. 
 
 Ani, It seems you have gotten over your 
 habit of procrastination. 
 
 Louis, No, I am here by chance. I had no 
 idea a wedding was on the tapis — the wedding 
 of one I am so — so closely — related to (bowing 
 
 to Virginia.) 
 
 Va. (Bitterly, in a low voice) You Speak as 
 
 though it were but yesterday. 
 
 Louis, So 'tis, so far as I can feel. 
 
 Ani, Hush, my dear, do not answer. Let 
 
 me deal with Mr. Perrault. You can 'go into 
 
 the Synagogue, and the function can proceed. 
 
 Louis, No, do not go, Virginia. Give me 
 
 but five minutes with you. 
 
 Va, To what end? Do you not see? (Motions 
 
 toward her wedding apparel, then toward the Syna- 
 gogue) 
 
 Louis, What then? Have I not learned from 
 life that nothing man plans is absolute, nothing 
 is final. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 57 
 
 Ani. But you shall see. You will find that 
 this is final — this is absolute. (Sternly. Then 
 earnestly) Go, I beg, Mr. Perrault. Wait at 
 least until the wedding's over. Have you not 
 hurt the poor child's destiny enough? 
 
 Louis. (Coldly) I have not hurt her destiny. 
 It seems, from all I hear, that I have made 
 her a better destiny than was hers by choice. 
 And, as for me, she has always done me but 
 good, and finally did me the greatest good a 
 woman can do a man: developed all my strength, 
 though almost killing me in the process. And 
 I now seek to bring our destinies to their na- 
 tural climax. I forbid this marriage because 
 this woman is already my wife. Virginia, listen 
 to me but five minutes. Do you remember 
 the night of graduation, the petit souper, the 
 cocktail? We were simple and childlike then, 
 and made up our quarrels as soon as they 
 took place. 
 
 Ani, A nice, serious view you take of ma- 
 trimony. 
 
 Louis. (Ignoring her) After we had sinned, 
 as the world calls it, it was no longer so. We 
 could never make up a quarrel. Each one was 
 bitterer and left deeper wounds until, it seemed 
 on your part. Love died out. How long it is, 
 though only three years. I feel that I have 
 died, and been born again. Born again to the 
 same needs, the same love. 
 
58 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Ani, (Indignantly) It is a convenient view, 
 this being born again, when you would have 
 your sins forgotten and those you have cruelly 
 wronged forgive you. But what is done, is 
 done. A wound like this is final — absolute. 
 
 Louis, (Ignoring her) I have learned from 
 Life and Suffering, Virginia, that nothing man 
 can plan is final. 
 
 Va. (Slowly, clasping her hands in front of her, 
 and drooping her head) I, too, have learned of Life. 
 My lesson is, that there is nothing worth in 
 this world but to Sin and to Forgive. 
 
 Ani, But forgiveness is for repentance, child, 
 and this man, this Louis Perrault 
 
 Va, (To Anita) Dear Mother, leave us alone 
 for five minutes. Believe me, it is better now 
 than — after. 
 
 Ani, (Going back to steps) This will be abso- 
 lute, I feel. And my poor boy! 
 
 Louis, Virginia, this marriage must not take 
 place. I will never leave your vicinity, and 
 we shall inevitably mate again. 
 
 (George comes down steps of Synagogue, rushing 
 and panting excitedly. He is in wedding attire.) 
 
 Geo, What's the matter, mother? Virginia? 
 Louis Perrauh! Oh, you seem — Are you the 
 cause of the delay? 
 
 Louis, (Grimly) It would Seem so. I was 
 coming along the street, and, seeing the car- 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 59 
 
 riages stop, paused to permit the occupants to 
 alight and enter the Synagogue, when I found 
 one of them — the bride — was an old friend 
 
 Geo, Well, what of that? Is this a time, 
 Perrault, to renew old friendships? 
 
 Louis. Yes, when any other time might be 
 too late. 
 
 Geo. (Jealously) What do you mean, Per- 
 rault? You speak as though — Virginia — dear- 
 love, what does he mean? 
 
 Va. We would like to speak together for a 
 few moments, George, if you please. 
 
 Ani. (On the steps) We, ahem! 
 
 Geo. But, dearlove, all is ready. Can he 
 not wait till later in the day? I have already 
 waited some time for you. 
 
 Ani. (Aside) God grant you do not wait 
 
 forever. 
 
 (Virginia looks down silently, Louis also looks for 
 her to speak) 
 
 Ani. (To George) Come, my son, your father 
 will be out, if we do not soon go in. Virginia 
 has the right to speak to this gentleman, 'even 
 now— if she thinks it wise. Come. (She de- 
 scends the steps) 
 
 (Virginia puts her hand to her head perplexedly. 
 George reaches toward her appealingly. Louis regards 
 her insistantly). 
 
 (Anita takes George's arm and almost forcibly draws 
 him up the steps. He will not go farther than the ves 
 
60 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 tibule, where he withdraws his arm roughly from his 
 mother's restraining hold, and takes his stand where 
 he can watch Louis and Virginia, though somewhat 
 far for hearing.) 
 
 Va» (Finding Louis will not speak. Mechanically.) 
 This is a strange place, a strange time, for our 
 meeting after so long — three years. Why that 
 has been a lifetime. 
 
 Louis. To you? To me it has *been as a 
 month or two. But is there no place wc can 
 talk without being under espionage? The car- 
 riage? The Synagogue vestry room? 
 
 Va, This will do for all we can have to say. 
 You see, I, too, have learned to ignore con- 
 ventions. 
 
 Louis, That*s good. It gives me joy because 
 I hope. I feared you had built a wall about 
 you — it was your bent. How little can we de- 
 pend on promise. In these three years I have 
 been so near you often, yet never dared to 
 speak or claim my wife. 
 
 Va, You were more eager, then, than you 
 used to be. 
 
 Louis, I never was less eager. The time 
 was not ripe. I was not a man in mind — too 
 flippant to do the duty though I was able. You 
 were far beyond me in development. A wife 
 such as you would have been — would have 
 been- — 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 61 
 
 Va, A white elephant on your hands. But 
 you said all this before. 
 
 Louis. You can joke about it now? 
 
 Va. You did the joking then. But I am 
 not smiling. Seduction never brought a smile 
 to any woman's lips. 
 
 Louis, Don't. I don't believe you've suffered 
 as much as I, or you could pity more. Must 
 that keep us forever apart? or poison all our 
 intercourse? 
 
 Va, Not that. Love is no sin. But how 
 you use it. 
 
 Louis. I was mad — mad to shield you from 
 the consequences. The shield provided by so- 
 ciety is but a hollow sham, establishes an un- 
 sanctified home in the name of justice to the 
 weaker party, by laying an often dreadful 
 burden on the other who, by the very nature 
 of the case, is really the weaker. Marriage 
 then would have been a crime more than was 
 our act. But I hold us man and wife. I claim 
 you now. 
 
 Va, A most indifferent husband who con- 
 cerns himself not at all with his wife's welfare 
 all these years. It is well to claim me, since 
 I saved myself. How, if I had gone down in 
 ruin? 
 
 Louis. It was impossible. There seldom 
 was a time since you drove me away that I 
 
62 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 was not within call of you. Such help as I 
 could give — struggling as I was — I gave. It 
 was I found Rosa and her husband in need, 
 gave them help and sent her to aid you. I have 
 followed you from place to place. When you 
 returned here, I followed — .conspired to meet 
 you, cultivated this boy's acquaintance that I 
 might again come in contact with you. Fate 
 seemed to will it otherwise. The apparently 
 impregnable walls of convention and jealousy 
 surrounded you after you entered into the 
 service of this family, and you led the life of 
 a nun. But no law of man's making, no cus- 
 tom, can longer hold us apart 
 
 Va. You are rich then, you have made the 
 fortune you yearned to make! You come with 
 your hands laden with the treasure you de- 
 serted me to secure? 
 
 Louis. Yes — no! My hands are as empty 
 as my life has been, but manhood is more than 
 gold. You knew it then. I have gone through 
 years of suffering to find it out. You dare 
 not give the treasure of your womanhood where 
 your heart is not. 
 
 Fa. And how will you prevent? I shall 
 stand under the canopy in a few minutes. 
 
 Louis. No, you are mine by mutual love's 
 own law. I'll add man's to it, and see that 
 there can be no mistaking you belong to me. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 63 
 
 Va. (Coldly) I belong to no one. I am a free 
 human being, and mean to stay so, married or 
 not. 
 
 Louis, And what, pray, do you mean by 
 *a free human being'? You who would marry 
 into a family of Hebrews? 
 
 Fa. Just the same you meant when you 
 said you could not take the white elephant on 
 your hands. IMl have no bars to my growth. 
 
 Louis, Oh, marvel! How could it be, that 
 estranged, and amidst such diverse influences, 
 we both have been traveling the same road, 
 making for the same goal. To be free! To 
 grow! To dwell on the heights of the Spirit! 
 But you, at least, have not the shame of a crime 
 to burden your heart, to weight your spirit as 
 you preen your wings for flight! Yours was 
 ever the call to do good to others, even to your 
 undoing. Then, Love, the more I earn your 
 pity, who had to wade through Sin to reach 
 the goal. These years my journey has been 
 bitter— sore: for, often as my work has taken 
 me now among the poor and wretched, again 
 among the rich and criminal, always have I 
 wished for your firm hand and cool judgment 
 to guide and aid me. This poor boy whom 
 you would marry 
 
 Va, (Despairingly) I would not. He is in- 
 fatuated with me, and his father wills the mar- 
 riage. 
 
64 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Louis. I will tell all. Til make it plain you 
 can marry none but me. 
 
 Va. (Wearily) 'Twill be no use. Do you 
 think I have not done so? The boy's deter- 
 mined and gets his way. 
 
 Louis, Do not you — a free woman — recog- 
 nize we must mate? 
 
 Va, I am not sure my place is not with 
 this poor George. 
 
 Louis, Does not your heart speak? 
 
 Va, It spoke once to my undoing. 
 
 Louis, Think what a life of horror you will 
 lead with this afflicted boy, full of the tradi- 
 tions of an old, priest-ridden race. 
 
 (George breaks away from his mother, rushes down 
 and stands between Louis and Virginia) 
 
 Geo. Will you never be through? You have 
 been talking a half hour, an hour, a day, — will 
 you never stop? The Rabbi waits and all the 
 guests, the feast at home, the dance, the mu- 
 sicians 
 
 Louis, Let them wait, while we arrange our 
 destiny. Virginia Campion can not marry you, 
 George Nazimova. She does not love you. 
 
 (George starts toward Louis with clenched fists. An- 
 ita comes fearfully down the steps and lays a hand on 
 George's arm. Virginia takes a step forv/ard, with pro- 
 tecting arms extended toward Louts Perrault.) 
 
 Geo, But she will, you blackguard. Keep 
 your sensations for the .dirty political reform 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 65 
 
 jobs and muckraking you are fitted for, and do 
 not meddle in gentlemen's private affairs. I 
 know all the miserable story — friends told me 
 at the club. Speak, dearlove, (turns toward Vir- 
 ginia and would take her hands. She retreats a step or 
 two, avoidiBg his touch. Does not speak. Both men wait.) 
 
 Geo, Will you not speak, dearlove? Say 
 you are going to marry me. 
 
 Louis. She is a free human being, and she 
 does not love you. 
 
 Geo, It is nothing. I love enough for both. 
 Speak, dearlove. 
 
 Ani, In our religion it is not necessary. 
 She will learn to. 
 
 (Synagogue door beyond vestibule bursts open, Ra- 
 chel and David come down the stepi toward the group.) 
 
 Geo. (In agony) Dearlove, Virginia, speak. 
 Do you not intend to marry me? 
 
 Louis, She must not. She does not love you. 
 
 Rack, You know a lot. Perhaps you mean 
 to say she does love you, 
 
 Va. I do. 
 
 (George screams and throws up his hands) 
 Ani. No, child, you only think you do. 
 You are hypnotized by the dream of your early, 
 mistaken love which he calls back to you. He 
 was not worthy and no honorable woman would 
 love a scoundrel who betrayed her. 
 
 Rach. (Finger on lip, shrinking back) Betrayed 
 her. 
 
66 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Louis, But many an honorable woman has. 
 And as for being worthy, what weak and self- 
 ish man is? (Rabbi appears at head of steps) 
 
 Dav, Our George is. 
 
 Geo. (Falling on his knees) You are mine, Vir- 
 ginia, say you belong to me. You were my 
 reward, dearlove, blood of my heart! 
 
 Louis. (Laying his hand on her arm) She can 
 
 not belong to two at once, and she has been 
 mine three years. (Rabbi descends steps) 
 
 Va. (Faintly and mournfully) Am I a free wo- 
 man? 
 
 Rabbi. (Coming forward with dignity) Yes, yes, 
 
 that is it, my daughter, a free woman to give 
 yourself as you please,>s your heart calls, the 
 past forgotten. Did you not give yourself to 
 George? 
 
 Va. I have given once and erred. Til give 
 no more. Til mate on equal terms or not at 
 all. Tm not a piece of property and, George, 
 
 poor George (pauses, looking at him yearningly) we 
 
 should but illy mate. Vm far beyond you on 
 the road through Life. 
 
 Geo. (Eagerly) No, dearlove, you are but a 
 year older. Tell me, do you love Louis Per- 
 rault? 
 
 Rack. (Pulls her mother's sleeve) Do not let 
 
 George ask her that. She said she loved that 
 man. You heard her. 
 
LOVE AND LOVERS 67 
 
 Va, I did not mean in years, dear George. 
 I meant in knowledge of good and evil. I am 
 out in the world, thrown forth by sin and 
 suffering. You are still in Paradise. 
 
 AnL So near to Purgatory. 
 
 Geo, There is nothing can make me give 
 you up save you love another man. Do you 
 love him? 
 
 Va, I do, dear George. I always have, 
 since school days. 
 
 Geo. Always, always, loved him? Say it 
 again. 
 
 Rach» (Runs down and clings to Virginia) Oh, 
 
 don't, please, please, dear sister. Youll kill 
 George. 
 
 Rab, (Groans) We upbuild new houses with 
 the ruins of others. 
 
 Anu It is my crime. For sake of my young 
 ones and to help her, I brought her into my 
 house and nourished her to bring me grief. 
 
 Geo. (Half whispering) Is he the reason, dear- 
 love, you did not want to marry me? 
 
 Va. (Sadly) He is the reason. 
 
 Geo. And you love him with your whole 
 heart? 
 
 Va. And always have. 
 
 Geo. And to him you have been warm and 
 tender, and confiding and familiar, and — and 
 passionate, and — and yielding! (He shrieks and 
 
68 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 falls on the green, struggling and groaning violently. 
 Virginia covers her face.) 
 
 (Anita hastens to take her place before her son, her 
 face upraised, her eyes closed, as if in silent supplica- 
 tion. David and Rachel kneel, one on each side of her, 
 one at the head, the other at the feet of George, hold- 
 ing Anita's festive gown out so as to shield George's 
 body completely.) 
 
 Rab, Oh, my son, my heroic, heart-broken 
 son. Whose crime is this? 
 
 AnL His mother's. Here I make confession. 
 I married without love. Then full of hatred of 
 maternity, and fierce, unreasoning jealousy, 
 bore this poor boy. 
 
 Rab, Anita, you are mad. You know this 
 is not true. We were youthful lovers, and you 
 were mad for children. Alas, that in my grey 
 hairs, I must tear the mask away. It is the 
 family heritage. For many generations there 
 always was a Nazimova thus (Pointing toward 
 George) 
 
 Rack, Oh, father, come and see brother 
 George. He looks so strange. 
 
 Rab, (Approaches and examines George. Looks 
 up fearfully at his wife) Anita, girl, my life, my 
 Rose of Sharon, our firstborn — is— dead. 
 
 Rack, Oh, no, no, no, brother George is 
 not — you are mistaken father. 
 
 David, Don't say it, father. Why, he was 
 alive just now. 
 
LOVE AND LO VERS 69 
 
 Rab, Anita, poor mother, your firstborn — 
 is — dead. 
 
 Ani, (Crossing her arms tragically on her breast) 
 
 I gave him life, and I have taken it. 
 
 Louis. No, no, poor mother, the guilt is 
 mine — from long ago. 
 
 Va, Shared in by me. And, at the moment 
 of our mutual penitence, the poor boy stepped 
 between! 
 
 Rab, These reasons all are vague. The truth 
 is simple. It is the Nazimova fate. 
 
 Rach, (Looking up, passionately) Oh, have done. 
 Is it not enough that our George is dead? What 
 matter how? She does not even care. She 
 philosophizes. I would be glad the marriage 
 failed, if only you had lived — poor brother. 
 (Takes George's head in her lap and weeps over it.) 
 
 Dav. (Lying on his breast, clasping George's feet) 
 Rachel, I can't make it so. We always get 
 the doctor. 
 
 Rab, Life is a phoenix. Out of the ashes 
 of the Dead rises the Happiness of the Living. 
 
 Ani, Woman, behold your mate. I have 
 sacrificed my firstborn that this might come 
 to pass. 
 
 (Pointing to Louis, then clasping her head in her 
 hands, vith a cry, dreadful and thrilling, like a pro- 
 longed organ note of woe.) 
 
 (Finia. Curtain.) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 
 
 CAST 
 
 Riley, a constable of Salem Village. 
 
 George Jacobs, an old herb doctor, called a wizard. 
 
 Judge Hustle, of Boston. 
 
 Justice Hathorne, of Salem Village. 
 
 Justice Jonathan Corwin, of Salem Village. 
 
 Judge Stoughton. Dep. Gov. and Presiding Juclge of 
 
 the Court. 
 O'Brien, Constable of Andover. 
 Cotton Mather, a famous minister from near Boston. 
 George Corwin, Sheriff. 
 Marshall Herrick, deputy Sheriff. 
 Anthony Checkley, Attorney General. 
 Ezekiel Cheever, Clerk of Court, 
 Goodman Crossby, son-in-law of Goody Martin. 
 Goodman Parker, another son-in-law . 
 Thomas Fiske, foreman of the Grand Jury. 
 Deacon Putnam, father of Ann, one of the Afflicted. 
 Dr. Griggs. 
 Goodman Boss. 
 
 Samuel Parris, a minister of Salem Village. 
 Willy Boundboy. 
 Deputy's Son. Court crier. 
 Goody Susannah Martin, accused of witchcraft. 
 Dame Dorcas Crossby, her daughter, 
 Ann Putnam, a bewitched child. 
 Mercy Lewis, another bewitched child. 
 Mrs. Pope. 
 
 The Miserable Tyrant, Ruler of the Lunar Orb. 
 
 The Griffin, Guardian of the Royal Palace. 
 
 The Gentle Improver, Chief Executioner. 
 
 Princess Witch Blossom. 
 
 Witch Nemesis. 
 
 Witch of Endor. 
 
 Young Witch— the Queen. 
 
 Exhibit No. 1, the cow. Exhibit No. 2, the pig. 
 Earth Gnomes, witches, residents of Salem Village, etc. 
 White slaves, Redemptioners, etc. 
 
74 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 TIME AND PLACE 
 Act I 
 
 Salem Village, May 2nd., 1692. 
 
 Scene 1. Outside tavern of Nathaniel Ingersoll. 
 
 Scene 2. Dining room of tavern of Nathaniel Ingersoll, 
 where the Grand Jury is in session. Through win- 
 dow Callow's Hill seen in the distance. 
 
 Scene 3. The Witches' Glen. 
 
 Act II 
 
 Evening of the Grand Jury Session. 
 
 Cell in county jail, adjoining Courthouse. 
 
 Act III 
 
 Land of Witchcraft, in the Lunar Orb. 
 Scene 1. Drawing room, Royal Palace. 
 Scene 2. Same. 
 Scene 3. Griffin's Grotto. . 
 Scene 4. Road to Grotto. 
 Scene 5. Grotto. 
 Scene 6. Witches' Glen, same spot as Scene 3, Act I. 
 
 Act IV 
 
 Courthouse, Town House Lane, Salem Village. 
 Scene 1 . Special Court of Oyer and Terminer, Friday. 
 June 29th, 1692. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 75 
 
 COSTUMES 
 
 Judges: Wig and gown, with black silk skull cap. 
 
 Rev. Cotton Mather: Stout and handsome man, twenty- 
 five years of age. Large white wig, parted in cen- 
 tre, and curled on thoulders; velvet suit, dduble- 
 breasted waistcoat with big buttons, velvet cloak 
 draped, white stock. Carries heavy cane. White 
 thread hose and low buckled shoes. Carries gloves. 
 
 George Jacobs: nearly seven feet tall, very thin, past 
 seventy years of age. Snowy hair falls on shoul- 
 ders, walks on two staves. In Scenes 1 and 2 of 
 Act I and in Act IV dressed in smalls, heavy wool 
 hose, shoes with huge buckles, tail coat, large 
 cocked hat. In Scene 3 of Act I wears a sort of 
 gaberdine or long cloak covering whole figure, with 
 skull cap, from which his long white locks float on 
 the wind. Walks on two staves. 
 
 Salem Men: long, loose, natural hair to shoulders with 
 large loose hat; big flat neck ruff. A sort of jerkin 
 or waist with pepluns, shoulder caps, once-slashod 
 sleeves showing lawn undersleeves with deep ruf- 
 fled cuff. Full baggy knee breeches with bow at 
 knee, hose and low shoes with large rosettes : all 
 "sad-colored" except where white. Or 
 
 Bag wig, with cocked hat in hand, huge neck ruff 
 standing up, no sleeves to waistcoat but lawn un- 
 dersleeves with ruffs at wrist; (can have neck lap- 
 pets like Mather on neck); cape to knees with stand- 
 ing collar or long cloak to ankles with sleeves flow- 
 ing; (can also wear high shovel hat something like 
 that of the women.) 
 
 Mrs. Pope: Black cap with black hat with steeple crown; 
 white neckerchief, red paragon bodice bordered and 
 looped with different colors; short, black skirt, red 
 hose, black lowcuts with velvet bows. 
 
76 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Goody Martin: Very neat, colors black and white, cos- 
 tume similar to that of Mrs. Pope. 
 
 Salem Women: Low, square neck, red bodice laced 
 with black over white chemisette and having vel- 
 vet straps over shoulders, short, puffed sleeves; 
 solferino skirt to ankles, buff apron without bib, 
 very long (lacking two inches of skirt hem), and 
 very full, around to sides; mob cap with ruffle 
 and red bow on left side, cap covers hair except 
 to stand up at back as if over a knot of hair; 
 (or hair can be done high with high tortoise-shell 
 comb); white hose, square-toed low shoes, with 
 big bow and buckles almost hiding feet. Or 
 
 On head a sort of sunbonnet with short gathered 
 crown with ribbon around it, the fronts falling like 
 lappets to the neck; a very scant dark skirt, a tight 
 low necked waist same material, a loose necker- 
 chief, short narrow sleeves and undersleeves half- 
 way to wrist, a long full blue apron, white hose, 
 lowcuts without buckles or bows. This for elderly 
 women. 
 
 VARIATIONS 
 
 Big straw hats, drooping all around and tied under the 
 chin with colored ribbon, trimmed with band and 
 bow of same, hat worn over mob cap with ruffles. 
 Beads on neck. Mits, silk or cotton from elbow 
 to knuckles; keys, scissors, etc., hanging from 
 girdle; reticule on arm. 
 
 Boys and girls dressed like their elders, but girls wear 
 longer dresses. 
 
 A few of women in hood (a large, loose hood with long 
 cape to waist) and pattens — storm shoes, with 
 wooden or iron soles and high wide heels. 
 
 Slaves, redemptioners, etc.: Homespun, ragged coats, 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 77 
 
 gingham coats, and calimanco man's gowns; shirts 
 of ozenbrig, flannel, white calimanco; breeches of 
 gingham, blue-striped homespun, and leather, boys 
 long hose; leathern doublets. Sometimes short 
 natural hair, sometimes wigs. 
 
 The Miserable Tyrant: Crown of moonbeams set awry 
 on head; green flimsy garments, cloak of thin light 
 tissue that trails, shoes with long curling toes; in 
 left hand a great sceptre of crystal which he holds 
 upright; in right a great sword which he trails 
 behind him. 
 
 Witches in different colored tights, feet unshod, sheer 
 long gowns of Greek type (loose), flowing locks 
 and wild looks. 
 
 Moon Wizards with very large spherical heads, goggle 
 eyes, attenuated bodies; all in white tights, 
 
 FURNITURE 
 
 Tavern dining room where Grand Jury meets. Sand 
 on floor which is white as bone; large open fire- 
 place with cheerful fire, and firedogs to right. Low, 
 stiff-backed settle, slant near further end of fire- 
 place for witnesses; long table with six legs and 
 carved bars from leg to leg, left side of room, 
 with chairs having low barred backs to small of 
 back, for twelve jurymen. In center of room a 
 platform with arm-chairs for justices and ministers. 
 Door in rear wall, with commode — a semi-circular 
 table with drawers almost to floor — on one 
 side; and corner cupboard with graduated shelves 
 going up high to a point on other side. Linen 
 scarves to commode and corner cupboard, with 
 glassware, punch bowls, china, thereon. Spinning 
 wheel pushed out of way. Low stools scattered 
 about. English flags draped over fireplace, large 
 
78 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 picture of Cromwell. Screen in front of fireplace 
 between Bench and fire. 
 
 ROYAL PALACE IN THE LUNAR ORB 
 
 Walls to simulate now rocks, now foliage. Light from 
 many moons which appear floating about in upper 
 air; fountains appear and disappear; carved settles 
 here and there, with many stools resembling muth- 
 rooms; everything seems waving as in a gentle 
 breeze; when settles or stools are pressed, soft 
 music; floor of crystal. Mirrors everywhere mul- 
 tiply every object and make the spaces and vistas 
 seem unending. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 79 
 
 ACT I, SCENE 1 
 
 Goodman Boss sitting on settle, smoking pipe. Enter 
 George Jacobs on two staves, boquet of mayblos- 
 soms in one hand. 
 
 Jacobs. Well-a-day, neighbor Boss, you are 
 early here. The Sessions have a power — have 
 a power to attract where there's little to amuse. 
 And a witch trial above all, eh, neighbor? 
 
 Boss. It's little interest I take in trials, witch 
 or other. I would I were at home this plant- 
 ing time. But I want my shote. 
 
 Jacobs. Your shote? Prithee, what hath a 
 shote to do with a witch trial? 
 
 Boss. (Grumbiingiy) What hath not to do with 
 a witch trial? This gadabout. Dame Crossby, 
 claimeth one of my big sow her last litter for 
 her own babe, saith it is bewitched. I profess 
 not to know of bewitchings or of witches — 
 Lord save me from the knowledge, or any other 
 wisdom that hath a leaning toward the gallows 
 
 or the stake (rising and bowing fervently); but I do 
 know that my big sow is as good a one and 
 as pious as there is in Salem, and hath brought 
 forth no bewitched litter. It groweth easy to 
 take a neighbor his good cattle now-a-days: all 
 that needs is, say it is bewitched. 
 
 Jacobs. Aye, good friend, it seems to go 
 beyond the bounds of reason. 
 
80 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Boss, What mean you? What hath witch- 
 craft to do with reason? Witchcraft, I take it, 
 is a kind of reh'gion that hath gone astray, that 
 is, it is just the opposite of religion, whilk hath 
 nothing whatever to do with reason, whilk be- 
 longeth to clarks. So saith his reverence, Cot- 
 ton Mather. 
 
 Jacobs. Why, look you, neighbor, I mean 
 that, if the shote is yours, and is not bewitched, 
 then how can this woman have bewitched it? 
 
 Boss. Oh, as to that, I excuse no witch. 
 Because this is my shote, it may still be that 
 the vile creature hath made the babe, her grand- 
 child, over into another shote that is not mine. 
 A witch just the same! Besides, there is a 
 cow that is bewitched, and many children. Oh, 
 she is vile enough, all right. 
 
 Jacobs. Then you know her, neighbor? 
 
 Boss. Nay, nay, I consort with no witches. 
 An' I knew a witch in hiding (loudly, and gazing 
 about him anxiously), I would quickly turn her 
 over to the hangman. 
 
 Jacobs. How now, neighbor Boss, is she 
 not a near neighbor since you were a child? 
 
 Boss. Lay not that to my charge. She's no 
 gossip of mine. 
 
 Jacobs. But how know you Goody Martin 
 is a witch? Perhaps the Session will release 
 her. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 81 
 
 Boss, Then is she not a witch, an' I have 
 naught against her. I hold with the law whilk 
 is an honorable thing for our own good and 
 chastisement, like religion. 
 
 Jacobs. Come, come, Goodman Boss, what 
 know you ill of Susannah Martin? Hath she 
 not been a consistent member of the congre- 
 gation, an industrious woman, a helpful and 
 friendly neighbor? I remember when the fever 
 was in almost every household, *twas Susannah 
 Martin I met oftenest in the house of sickness 
 or of death as I went my rounds. 
 
 Boss, Aye, aye, it may rise up against her. 
 Many died where she went. 
 
 Jacobs, (Striking hit staff on the ground angrily) 
 
 Mayhap, if you were of a house where one 
 was saved to longer life, you had felt her good- 
 ness. But nay, when this fear of witches is in, 
 honor and gratitude and all else are out. Til 
 warrant now, you would rather lose your shote 
 than that the witch be not hung. 
 
 Boss, I follow not your sayings, but there 
 was much talk about the deaths in her path. 
 
 Jacobs, And how about the lives saved? 
 Think you any of them will be here to-day? 
 (pointing to tavern with staff). 
 
 Boss, (Shaking head) I know not. I judge 
 
 they would be afeared. A witch on trial, eh? 
 And all the children that so easy cry out on 
 
82 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 one: it is a fearsome thing to be cried out up- 
 on, think you not so? 
 
 Jacobs, I have known it a many times. The 
 cries follow ever in the wake of a good act. 
 They are the gratitude of the ignorant, and 
 therefore should be reverenced. But friend, I 
 hear you are cousin to the sheriff. Could now 
 I get you to take these mayblossoms to him 
 for Goody Martin, to say she hath one friend 
 in Salem? 
 
 Boss, (Shrinking) Nay, then 
 
 Jacobs, No harm will come to you, and I 
 will remember't when next you join the cry 
 against me (smiling). Your cousin his little son 
 Ezekiel was saved in the fever spell by Su- 
 sannah Martin. He will give it her, never fear. 
 Tell him wizard Jacobs sent it to the witch, 
 and I will cure thy cattle next time they need 
 without other pay. 
 
 Boss, (Grumbiingly) Oh, very well, if you 
 put it that way. But it is not well to do aught 
 
 for a witch these days. (Takes boquet and moves 
 up street slowly, still grumbling audibly, Jacobs fol- 
 lowing, shaking head and muttering.) 
 
 (End of Scene /, Act 1.) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 83 
 
 ACT I, SCENE 2 
 
 Grand Jury in session, dining room of IngersoH's 
 tavern. 
 
 On bench, Justices Hathorne and Corwin, of Salem, 
 and Judge Hustle of Boston. Later, Cotton Mather. 
 
 About eight feet from Bench, on settle Ann Putnam, 
 a bewitched child with her father. Deacon Putnam. 
 Also, Mercy Lewis, another bewitched child. 
 
 Behind them, Goodman Crossby, the prisoner's son-in- 
 law, with a green bag, which is very restless and 
 emits squeals at intervals. With him Goodman 
 Parker, another son-in-law, and Dame Crossby, 
 standing with Dr. Griggs. Jurymen at table. Spec- 
 tators in the background. Cotton Mather in front 
 rank. Lowing of cow heard outside. 
 
 Jus. Hathorne, Let the court come to order. 
 Bring in the prisoner. 
 
 (Bell rings. Enter rear. Deputy Sheriff Herrick, 
 sending on ahead by means of occasional prods with 
 staff of office. Goody Susanah Martin, pale and defi- 
 ant. Goodman Crossby moves out of her path, bag 
 squeals. She glances disdainfully at him. He mutters 
 and looks upward. She is placed a few feet further 
 from the bench than the Putnams, and to the other side. 
 Justice Corwin whispers to Justice Hathorne.) Susan- 
 nah Martin, you are now in the hands of au- 
 thority. What evil spirit have you familiarity 
 with? 
 
 SUS. Mar, None. (Presses her hand upon her 
 heart. Deputy pushes her hand away with his staff.) 
 
 Jus. Hath. Have you made a contract with 
 the devil? 
 
84 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Sus, Mar. No. 
 
 Jus, Hath. Why, then, are this cow and this 
 pig so afflicted? 
 
 Judg, Has. What cow? What pig? I see 
 no cow — no pig. 
 
 Goodman Cross. So please you. Worship- 
 ful Sir, it is not a pig, but my dame and my- 
 self, our babe which is bewitched. Here he 
 is, poor child. (Lays bag at feet of judges. Pig 
 squeals.) 
 
 Jus. Cor. Bring in the bewitched cow. 
 
 (Deputy Sheriff goes out. Returns pulling in un- 
 willing cow. Cow stops, resisting furiously when half 
 way in. George Jacobs, a spectator, goes to door and 
 looks out.) 
 
 Geo. Jac. If it please Your Honors, a young 
 limb of Satan is hanging onto the cow her tail. 
 
 (Deputy lets go of the cow's neck rope and runs and 
 hugs Cotton Mather's knees. Everybody rushes to- 
 gether and cries, "Oh!" Cotton Mather steps forward 
 and extends his hands in a supplicating attitude.) 
 
 Cot. Math. I thought so! 
 Geo. Jac. I mean a mischievous lad. 
 Judg. Hus. Patience, domine, and retire. 
 Let the lad bring in the cow himself. 
 
 (Enter Willie Boundboy, pulling cow, which still 
 resists.) 
 
 Dep. Sher. Her. The Black Man doth so 
 beset the creature that it needs must walk 
 backwards. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 85 
 
 (Cow struggles and lows and twists her head. Pig 
 gets out of bag and scampers among spectators who 
 jump out of its way fearfully. Dame Crossby snatches 
 it, weeping, and holds it squealing, caressing it. 
 
 Jus. Hath, Susannah Martin, why do you 
 hurt these animals? 
 Sus. Mar, I do not hurt them. I scorn it. 
 Jus, Hath. Whom do you employ to do it? 
 Sus. Mar. If I must tell you, I will tell you. 
 
 (Everybody stretches neck to listen) I employ no- 
 body? 
 
 Jus, Hath. What creature do you employ? 
 
 Sus. Mar, I employ no creature. I am 
 falsely accused. 
 
 (Draws her hatstring nervously through her hands 
 Cow switches her tail.) 
 
 Dep. Her. Please Your Honor, she hath 
 pulled her hatstring, and the cow her tail is 
 switched distressfully. 
 
 Willy B. (Trying to catch tail) It is bewitched. 
 I can not hold it still. 
 
 (Prisoner pulls lobe of ear. Pig squeals loudly.) 
 
 Dame Cross. Oh, my poor little Hezekiah. 
 Goodman Cross. The little pig its ear is 
 distressfully jerked. Worshipful Sirs. 
 Dep. Her. I saw the witch pull her own ear. 
 
 (Just. Corwin whispers to Just. Hathorne.) 
 
 Jus. Hath. Let the Sheriff and his Deputy 
 hold out the woman her arms, that she can do 
 no harm with her hands. 
 
86 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 (The Sheriff and his Deputy take her arms, one on 
 each side, and hold them straight out from the shouider.) 
 
 Judg. Hus. Come, I see no connection be- 
 tween these things. / have been pulling my 
 ear since this hearing began. I am not wont 
 to see a cow and a pig as witnesses. Who 
 averreth that this pig is this woman her babe? 
 
 Dame Cross, I do, Worshipful Sir. Since 
 my mother gave me the cow, the babe hath 
 pined away, till one day I came to the cradle 
 and found instead of my babe this pig dressed 
 even as he was. 
 
 Judg. Hus. Were you not out gossiping? 
 
 Dame Cross. The Lord forbid! (Throwing 
 
 up her eyes and hands) 
 (Prisoner smiles and shakes her head.) 
 
 Dep. Her. (Prods her) Keep still I tell you. 
 Judg. Hus. Methinks someone hath played 
 a prank on you, good dame. 
 
 (Cow kicks up heels. Pig frightened squeals.) 
 
 Sus, Mar^ This poor sukey never behaved 
 so when she was mine. My daughter is 
 careless and hath not housed her properly. 
 She hath spent many a night upon the com- 
 mon instead of in her stall. Take the lad away 
 from her and she will stand. He is, perhaps, 
 an annoyance to her. 
 
 (All spectators cry out. Hubbub.) 
 
 Juryman No. 1. The witch her tongue hath 
 too much license, Worshipful Siri. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 87 
 
 Goodman Parker, She will run amuck, and 
 toss someone. Deputy, I pray you, hold her. 
 
 Dep, Her. Hold her yourself. I have the 
 witch. 
 
 Judg. Hus, Well, lad, since you are the 
 only one not afraid, hold the cow, and see you 
 play no tricks. This is much fuss over very 
 trivial matter. 
 
 Cot. Math. (Fervently itriking his staff upon the 
 floor, and stepping forward) Trivial! 
 
 Judg. Hus. Silence, domine! Who are you 
 dares disturb the Court? Is not this brute 
 racket enough? 
 
 Dep. Her. (Reverently) May it please Your 
 Honor, it is the Rev. Cotton Mather of Boston. 
 
 Hath, and Cor. Let his Reverence come up 
 and sit on the Bench. The Court will be happy 
 to have his assistance in this matter. 
 
 (Judge Hustle bows courteously. Cotton Mather 
 comes forward stiffly and seats himself beside the 
 judges.) 
 
 Judg, Hus, Now let us have some evidence 
 a little more to the point— 
 
 Cot. Math, Hath the witch been subjected 
 to any test? 
 
 Dep. Her, Yes sir. She hath said the Lord 
 His Prayer correctly, and we find no callous 
 spots, but one wart on her side. 
 
 (Ann Putnam falls in a fit. Kicks and screams.) 
 
88 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Ann Put Martin, Martin, she hath stuck 
 me full of pins. 
 
 Dea, Put Alack, my poor little maid! 
 
 (Mercy Lewis falls down in fit beside her, rolling 
 over the floor. The kicks and groans much affect the 
 spectators. Mrs. Pope takes off her shoe and throws 
 at prisoner, striking her. Sheriff wipes prisoner's face.) 
 
 Cot. Math, Observe, Worshipful Sirs how 
 the rampant hag doth view the poor children's 
 
 misery. 
 
 (Cow tries to get away. Pig squeals. Prisoner smiles 
 scornfully.) 
 
 Jus, Hath, Susannah Martin, what are you 
 laughing at? 
 
 Sus, Mar, Well I may laugh at such folly. 
 
 Jus, Hath, Do you think they are bewitched? 
 
 Sus, Mar, No, I do not think they are. 
 
 Jus. Hath, What do you think ails them? 
 
 Sus, Mar, I do not desire to spend my 
 judgment on it. 
 
 Jus, Hath, Well, tell us your thoughts about 
 them. Goody. 
 
 Sus, Mar, My thoughts are my own when 
 they are in, but when they are out they are 
 another's. 
 
 Juryman No, 2, The hag is in contempt of 
 Court! 
 
 Jus. Hath. What is the matter with these 
 children? 
 
 All Spec. They are bewitched. 
 
 Jus. Cor. Who says so? 
 
IN YE OLDE CQLONIE 89 
 
 Dr. Griggs, So please Your Honor, there 
 can be no doubt of it. I am their physician. 
 It is now four months since I was called to 
 attend the first of these stricken children, 
 Your Honors, the small daughter of the Rev. 
 Samuel Parris here — 
 
 Judg, Hus, Make it short— make it short. 
 You are these girls their physician, and you say 
 they are bewitched. Well, bring one to look 
 upon this dame. 
 
 (Ann is led over by Deputy, and falls in fit, crying): 
 
 Ann P. Martin — Martin, she pinches me. 
 
 Jus, Hath, (Solemnly) Susannah Martin, you 
 are now in the hands of authority. Tell me now, 
 why you hurt this child? What is the reason 
 she can not come near you? 
 
 (The Sheriff and Deputy get so interested that they 
 forget to hold up Goody Martin's hands. She grasps 
 a chair back in front of her.) 
 
 Goodman Par, (Stepping forward) I pray you, 
 take the witch her hands off the chair back, 
 and the child will not be pinched. 
 
 (Sheriff and deputy seize her hands hastily.) 
 
 SUS, Mar, (To Sheriff and Deputy) I beg yOU, 
 be not so rough, neighbors. (To judges) I can- 
 not tell. It may be, the devil bears me more 
 malice than any other. 
 
 Jus, Hath. Do you not see God discover- 
 ing you? 
 
90 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Sus, Mar, No, not a bit of that. 
 
 Goodman Par, She did tell me, Your Hon- 
 ors, some time aback, that when she put her 
 hands to the book, the Black Man did promise 
 to make her Queen of Hell; and she did say 
 that she had attended many feasts in Witches* 
 Glen, whereat the Rev. Mr. Burroughs, now 
 in Salem Gaol as a wizard, did blow the trum- 
 pet to call them the witches together. 
 
 Foreman Fiske, Why were you not at meet- 
 ing these two Lord's Days, Goody Martin? 
 
 Sus, Mar, My foot was sore. It is not 
 whole yet. 
 
 Cot, Math. She walks not lamely. She is 
 an evil creature, and yet a professor. (With 
 horror) 
 
 Judg, Hus, Patience, now, domine. This 
 case goes slowly enough. Is there no more 
 lifelike testimony? I like not this spectral 
 testimony? 
 
 Mrs, Pope, (Spitefully) Perhaps her brother 
 in witchcraft, Capt. John Alden, might give 
 some light on the matter. 
 
 Judg, Hus, A very good suggestion. Let 
 Capt. Alden be summoned. He is a sturdy 
 man and true, and can speak for himself. 
 
 Sher, (Officially) Non est inventus! 
 
 Dep, Her. He hath been cried out upon by 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 91^ 
 
 the Parris child, Worshipful Sir, and hath fled 
 with Dame Priscilla. 
 
 Judg, Hus, He hath wisdom beyond his 
 time. 
 
 Mrs, Pope. Then perhaps John Putnam, 
 who comes no more to meeting, may know 
 something. 
 
 Sher, Non est 
 
 Dea. Put. The woman mistakes. My brother 
 knows not the witch. 
 
 Dep. Her, (Prodded by Sheriff, both letting pris- 
 oner's hands fall in excitement) He hath a saddled 
 horse at his door night and day. Worshipful 
 Sirs, lest he be cried out upon. I doubt that 
 my feet could get me to his house ere it 
 would be a case of 
 
 Sher, Non est inventus! 
 
 Judg, Hus, I blame him not. What other 
 testimony is there? (To Mrs. Pope) Dame, you 
 seem to have a fear in the matter. Stand forth 
 and tell us what you know. 
 
 (Prisoner squeezes her hands nervously. Ann Put- 
 nam screams that prisoner is pinching her. Spectators 
 rail and point at prisoner, and look darkly.) 
 
 Mrs, \Pope, AhemI Your Honors! This 
 witch came from her house in Amesbury to 
 my house in Newbury, on a visit one vile day 
 in winter, through mud and sleet, and not a 
 speck upon her, Sir. (Triumphantly) I did tell 
 
92 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 the children to move from the fire to let her 
 by, and she did say that she was not cold or 
 wet. I did note the fact, so please you, Wor- 
 shipful Sirs, and she did say that she did hate 
 a draggled tail. (Wagging her head knowingly) 
 
 Jus. Cor, (Seriously) She did hate a drag- 
 gled tail? 
 
 Mrs, Pope, (Triumphantly) Yes, Your Honors. 
 
 Jus, Hath, (Striking desk, severely) Susannah 
 Martin, did you say you did hate a draggled tail? 
 
 Sus, Mar, Yes sir, I am clean and neat. 
 
 Jus, Hath, (Thundering) Is that a reason you 
 could arrive clean and neat out of a storm? 
 
 Sus, Mar, Yes sir, I had my hood and pat- 
 tens on. 
 
 Judg, Hus, (Seriously) Goody Pope, do you 
 like a draggled tail? 
 
 Mrs, Pope, I am none so clean and neat as 
 she, Sir, to be in league with the Black Man. 
 
 Cot, Math, Ask the witch, how she got to 
 Dame Pope her house, Sir. Did she go on a 
 broomstick? 
 
 Judg, Hus, Patience, Domine, the question 
 is unseemly. 
 
 Jus, Hath, Did you ride on a beam to Goody 
 Pope her house? 
 
 Sus, Mar, If I must tell, I will tell you. 
 
 (All stretch their necks to hear) No sir, nor did 
 I ever see anyone else ride one. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 93 
 
 Judg, Hus, It seemeth me, the woman talks 
 sense. 
 
 (Ann Putnam screams and kicks.) 
 
 Ann P. There is a Black Man whispering 
 in her ear. 
 
 Cot. Math, I pray the Court, let the child 
 describe this particular manifestation of the 
 Black Man that I may make note of it. (Takes 
 out his tablet.) 
 
 Judg, Hus, (Impatiently pulling his ear and bit- 
 ing his finger nails) I see naught, nor does any- 
 one else here, or his fears would have moved 
 him to action. This woman can not be con- 
 demned on the unsupported testimony of a 
 child whilk hath many fits. 
 
 Ann P, (Falls to floor, kicking) Hustle — Hus- 
 tle, he hath pulled my ears and now biteth my 
 fingers sore. Oh— h— hi Ah— h— hi 
 
 Jus, Hath, (Astounded) Who afflicteth you, 
 child? Is it not Goody Martin? 
 
 Ann P, (Piteousiy) Hustle Hustle. 
 
 Judg. Hus, (Peremptorily) Remove the afflic- 
 ted children. (Exit Deacon Putnam with Ann and 
 Mercy) There was a babe, it seems, belonging 
 to this woman. Where is the babe? 
 
 Goodman Cross. It is now this pig, Sir. 
 
 (Sorrowfully.) 
 
 Judg, Hus. Some proof must be forthcom- 
 ing whether this cow and this pig are bewitched. 
 
94 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Jus, Hath, Susannah Martin, are you guilty 
 of witchcraft? 
 
 Sus, Mar, If I were as free of other sins as 
 of witchcraft, I would not ask of the Lord mercy. 
 
 Foreman Fiske, This is in the manner of a 
 confession. Note it, Ezekiel Cheever. 
 
 Cot, Math, Silence, witch. Mayhap, 'twere 
 well to try the animal's milch, Your Honors. 
 Twill curdle when sprinkled on the ground with 
 a prayer, if the cow is as seems bewitched. 
 
 Judg, Hus. Let Goody Martin milch her. 
 
 Spec. No no. 
 
 Cot, Math, The hag. Worshipful Sirs, can 
 make the milch plenteous or refuse to come, 
 as seems pleasing to her malice. 
 
 Judg, Hus. Goodman Crossby, do you 
 milch her, as you have doubtless done oft before. 
 
 Goodman Cross, May it please Your Hon- 
 or, not under my mother-in-law, her eyes. 
 
 Judg, Hus, Then let the lad milch her, if 
 she hath anything to give, after being in gaol 
 all night. 
 
 (Willy approaches the cow, which is uneasy, lows, 
 turns her head and looks at him. He grins. Is given 
 a wash basin, sits on floor and starts to milk, Cow 
 kicks, switches tail, and finally turns around and runs 
 at him with head lowered. He rolls over and runs to 
 rear of courtroom.) 
 
 Spec, The cow is bewitched. 
 
 Cot, Math, Her doom is sealed! 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 95 
 
 Sus. Mar. The lad hurt the cow, and 
 even a worm will turn when hurt. 
 
 Mrs, Pope, The old witch had her evil eye 
 upon the cow. 
 
 Sus. Mar. If poor sukey had language, 
 she would speak for me. 
 
 Geo. Jac. There are burs on the cow's 
 teats, Your Honors. 
 
 Goodman Cross. There are not always burs 
 on her. 
 
 Judg. Hus. This is fuss enough over the 
 cow. Let us consider the pig. Hold up the 
 reputed changeling. 
 
 (Deputy takes pig from Goodman Crossby, and holds 
 it up gingerly) 
 
 Judg. Hus. (Seriously) It seemeth to have no 
 likeness whatever to this dame and this man, 
 its reputed father and mother. Dame Crossby. 
 and Goodman Crossby, do you claim this shote 
 as your infant son Hezekiah? 
 
 Dame and Goodman. (Solemnly) We do. 
 
 Cot. Math. I see quite a strong resemblance 
 betwixt the creature and this young woman. 
 Their eyes are small, and 
 
 Goodman Cross. (Savagely) If you were not 
 a minister 
 
 Spec. Sh— sh— sh— sh— 
 
 Jus. Cor. Nay, it is but a mistake of the 
 reverend gentleman, good man. According to 
 
90 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 the best authorities on witches the pig would 
 not be the child, and therefore there could be 
 no legitimate resemblance betwixt the pig and 
 these good people. But the child his self or 
 spirit hath passed into the shote his body. 
 
 Cot. Math, (Miffed) Then meseems it were 
 much more reasonable to torment the pig that 
 its body might die and let the babe its spirit 
 loose, than to torture the witch. 
 
 Jus. Hath. Nay then, the child his spirit 
 would have no habitation to go into, the child 
 his body being gone, and 
 
 Judg. Has. This is not a Court of Disser- 
 tation on witches or witchcraft. Honored Col- 
 leagues. We are not convened to take meas- 
 ures to tear the child his spirit from the shote 
 his body and get it back into its own habitation, 
 but to punish the one who hath driven the spirit 
 from its own habitation into the pig. As for 
 resemblance, domine, your eyes are certainly 
 sharper than mine, for the woman and man are 
 comely of their kind. How know you this pig 
 was once your babe, Dame? 
 
 Dame Cross. (Sobbing) I found it in the 
 crib, sir, with all my babe his clothes on. 
 
 Cot. Math. Most conclusive 
 
 Judg. Hus. Have patience, domine. When 
 did you last see your babe? 
 
 Dame Cross. I put him to sleep in the 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 97 
 
 cradle just a while before. When I came a- 
 gain here was a pig. 
 
 Judg. Has. Have you never seen the babe 
 since? 
 
 Dame Cross, No— o— o— o, Worshipful Sir. 
 
 (Weeps) 
 
 Judg. Has, Poor mother. (Aside) She is 
 very buxom. (Aloud) Goodman Crossby, have 
 you any pigs? 
 
 Goodman Cross. No, Your Honor, but my 
 neighbor has a sow and ten shotes, that is, he 
 did have until our babe was bewitched. 
 
 Judg. Hus. Now how many has he? 
 
 Goodman Cross. Nine, Your Honor. He 
 hath sued me for this one he sayth is his tenth. 
 
 Judg. Hus. How do you know it is not? 
 
 Goodman Cross. I do not know. Your Hon- 
 or. But, while there is a chance it is our 
 little Hezekiah, we do not mean to give it up. 
 
 (Takes pig from deputy.) 
 
 Dame Cross. (Seizing pig from her hufband's 
 
 arms) Oh — h — h, — my baa — a — a — by, my little 
 
 Hezekiah. (Pig drops and runs away.) 
 
 Judg. Hus. Well, well, well, well, we need 
 some expert testimony here. Is this pig this 
 woman her babe, and is this cow herself, or 
 are they both bewitched? 
 
 Ezek. Chee. Hear the witnesses against the 
 witch, Worshipful Sirs. Here are ten neigh- 
 bors who can show various acts of witchcraft 
 
98 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 on themselves or their belongings this last fort- 
 night. 
 
 Geo. Jac. Hear the witch her witnesses, 
 Your Honors. Here are ten more who bear 
 witness to Goody Martin her good character and 
 foolish indulgence to her ungrateful daughter. 
 
 Judg. Hus, (Testily) I wish no witnesses 
 of either sort: one kind thinks that everything 
 is witchcraft, and a woman of a good character 
 hath been proven worthless ere now. I will 
 have an expert to detect witchcraft in this cow 
 and this pig. Now, domine, here is something 
 that is right in your line. Tell us where we 
 can procure such expert. Hark ye, no min- 
 isters of the gospel: all that is not pure and 
 holy is so contaminating to them that they can 
 see witchcraft in all but the things of the church. 
 
 Cot, Math, (Snappishly) Nay, then, I can not 
 help you unless you get some fiend or equally 
 vile creature. (Sarcastically) Doubtless the Witch 
 of Endor would fully suit your purpose, 
 
 Judg, Hus, (Who does not remember much of 
 Holy Writ) Excellent! thank you, domine. Where 
 is her abode? Til send the Sheriff after her 
 directly. 
 
 (Exit Sheriff.) 
 
 Ezek, Chee, (Looking horrified) I think she hath 
 no house this long while now. She is at large. 
 
 (Stir and whispering among spectators) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 99 
 
 Cot. Math. (Rising) If, then, this Honorable 
 Court will consort with witches I must take 
 my leave. 
 
 (Exit Cotton Mather. Some of spectators follow, 
 shaking their heads.) 
 
 Jus. Hath. What! A witch as a witness. 
 
 Judg. Hus. Perfectly competent, and hath 
 precedent. Since his reverence leaves us in 
 the lurch, methinks there can be no better place 
 to find the witch than in the glen called the 
 Witches' Glen. Sheriff Corwin? 
 
 Dep. Her. Non est (Shaking and getting be- 
 hind the prisoner, holds her hands out straight.) 
 
 Geo. Jac. (Smilling sardonically and shaking head) 
 
 Inventus— hQ hath fled. Your Honors. 
 
 Judg. Hus. Deputy Sheriff Herrick? 
 
 Dep. Her. He hath this rampant witch in 
 charge, so please Your Worships. 
 
 Judg. Hus. Constable Putnam? 
 
 Dep. Her. He hath gone hence with his 
 afflicted daughter. 
 
 Judg. Hus. (Impatiently) Constable Riley? 
 
 Con. Ril. Just going, worshipful— 
 
 Judg. Hus. Seize him, sirrah Whither go 
 you? 
 
 Con. Ril. I have just been appointed a po- 
 liceman, and go to fit me new uniform on, 
 Your Honor. 
 
 Judg. Hus. Fit it on and keep it on, and 
 
100 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 go you to the Witches' Glen and serve a sub- 
 poena on the Witch of Endor <o appear before 
 the Special Court of Oyer and Terminer in the 
 month of June, and give expert testimony as 
 to whether this cow and this pig are bewitched 
 
 (Sheriff peeps in) 
 
 Con, Ril, She bein' a witch, Your Worship, 
 mayhap she will refuse to come. 
 
 Judg, Hus. Then seize her body, she being 
 within this jurisdiction. 
 
 Con. Ril. I loike not this job, Worshipful 
 Sirs. It is dangerous, faith, any way ye putt 
 it, to know aught of witches these days. 
 
 Jus. Cor. Honored Colleague, there hath 
 no true bill been found. How say you there 
 will be a trial in June? 
 
 Judg. Hus. It takes not a prophet to see that 
 a true bill will be found. An* I wait till it is 
 returned — though the freemen leave not their 
 seats to find it, there will be left no constable 
 or other officer to take the orders of the Court. 
 
 (Enter Sheriff) 
 
 Sher. I will see that Riley leaves not with- 
 out your instructions. Worshipful Sirs. 
 
 Jus. Cor. It were fitting, at this point, that 
 the Grand Jury make out their Bill. 
 
 Foreman Fiske. (Who has been writing nnd talk- 
 ing with the other jurymen) We have agreed, Your 
 
 Honor. (Passes up paper to judgt.) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 101 
 
 Jus, Cor. Here is a true Bill against Su- 
 sannah Martin, for witchcraft. 
 
 Jus, Hath, Riley, use every precaution, as 
 you are the only policeman in Salem Village. 
 
 Take you this book. (Takes book out of green bag) 
 
 It is a book of charms and exorcisms against 
 witches and witchery. Read it as you go. 
 
 Judg, Hus, (After talking with other judges) The 
 case is set for the June Term of the Special 
 Court of Oyer and Terminer, as the Bench 
 doth now desire its dinner. (Rising.) 
 
 Jus, Cor, Remove the prisoner to Salem 
 gaol. 
 
 Jus, Hath, Have her in the heaviest chains, 
 that she may not escape, like Goodman Proctor. 
 
 (Judges Exeunt. Deputy pushes Sus. Martin with 
 his knee.) 
 
 Sus, Mar, I pray you, neighbor, release 
 my hands. I am sore wearied with holding them 
 out, and would wipe my face. 
 
 Geo, Jac, (Wiping her face with his handkerchief) 
 
 She hath not been convicted, prithee, neighbor 
 Deputy, why punish her yet. 
 
 Dep, Her, Get along with you, Goody, your 
 hands shall be released when they go into chains. 
 
 Geo, Jac, But, Goodman Herrick, how can 
 the dame walk with you so close to the 
 back of her. You will never make headway. 
 
 Dep, Her, Your turn next, old wizard! Hold 
 
102 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 your arms by your side, then, Goody. Get 
 along there. 
 
 (Exeunt Deputy and Sus. Martin. As they pass 
 cow she rubs nose against Sus. Martin's arm.) 
 
 Dame Cross. Oh, where is my babe? My 
 mother looked upon it and it hath fled. Good 
 people all, aid me to find my little Hezekiah. 
 
 (Great commotion, hunting pig.) 
 (Curtain.) 
 (Curtain Rises.) 
 (Pig found. Sheriff, with Goodman Crossby and 
 Goodman Boss all struggle for pig. Sheriff gets pig, 
 and, with it under arm and leading cow, runs off stage 
 Goody C. and others follow. 
 Exeunt all but Geo. Jac.) 
 
 Geo, Jac. This is the very essence of mid- 
 summer madness, the like Will Shakespere nev- 
 er thought of. He only is safe who flees. This 
 Putnam child, the family hath had fits since 
 the Colonie hath been. I will warn John Put- 
 nam his name hath been mentioned, or he will 
 ride into the town with his new babe to be 
 christened. This Judge Hustle seemeth a fair 
 man and scorneth these trials which are most 
 crying unjust, for I perceive that some of the 
 cleared and condemned are under the same 
 circumstances; or that there is the same reason 
 to clear this righteous dame as those who 
 have more weight in this community by reason 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 103 
 
 of wealth, according to my judgment. I will 
 go find what that young limb of Satan, Willy 
 Boundboy, is about. He is too frolicsome for 
 this demure state, and I mistrust he hath a 
 hand in all this. (Exit.) 
 
 (Curtain) 
 (End of Scene 2, Act I.) 
 
104 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 ACT I, SCENE 3 
 
 Place: The Witches' Glen. 
 
 Enter R. and in background ; Policeman Riley, slowly 
 descending the rocks, carrying « big iron kettle on 
 his back hooked over his neck, and reading big 
 book in loud murmur. At every sound of rolling 
 stone or blowing leaf he starts back, almost drops 
 book, utters popular charm aloud, then grasps book 
 more tightly and reads more rapidly than ever. 
 Arrived down centre, lays book down, squats cross- 
 legged a moment, then takes off right shoe, spits 
 in it and puts it on ; walks a few paces, pauses, 
 spits north, south, east and west, rubs hands to- 
 gether gladly and begins to gather wood. 
 
 Pol, Ril, Now, begorra, Vm safe, if charms 
 have any varchue. 
 (Enter Willy Boundboy, L, from behind rock.) 
 
 Willy. Wotcher doin'? 
 PoL RiL Gadderin* flowers to smell, you 
 young limb of Satan. 
 
 Willy. I aint. Want some help? (Rubs one 
 
 bare foot on the other, grins.) 
 
 Pol. Ril. Sure, b*ye. Til br'ak me back if 
 I must gadder enough to bile this kettle. 
 
 Willy. That*s a washday kettle. It'll take 
 a heap for to boil that kettle, / know. (Looks 
 around cautiously) Dr Jacobs brews his charms 
 in one. 
 
 (Both gather twigs. Willy now and again glances 
 slyly at policeman, sneaks something out of his pocket 
 and places among the pile of twigs. At last Policeman 
 
IN YE OLDE CQLONIE 105 
 
 ignites the pile, but fire refuses to burn. Policeman 
 begins to run over some charm, Willy joining in loudly. 
 Enter Geo. Jacobs, the Herb Doctor, L, leaning on 
 two staves, and carrying small boquet of herbs, Willy 
 retires back.) 
 
 Dr. J, What art doing, friend? 
 
 PoL RiL (Aside) The auld wizard! Perhaps 
 he can help me. (Aloud) Vm doin' a bit of icon- 
 jurin\ sir, be order av the coourt. But the 
 fire wont burn, at all, at all. 
 
 Dr, J. And what has the court to do with 
 such practices? 
 
 Pol. RiL His Honor, Judge Hustle, has 
 ordered me for to subpoena the Witch av In- 
 dor, as an ixpert in a case before the Grand 
 Jury, sir. 
 
 Dr. J. And what might be the case, my 
 good man? 
 
 Pol. Ril. It's the case of young Dame 
 Crossby her babe and cow bewitched. 'Goody 
 Martin, her mother, gave her the cow, sir, and 
 now the babe is turned into a suckin' pig. 
 
 Dr. J. And his Honor wishes a witch as ex- 
 pert witness instead of taking the testimony of 
 neighbors? Such enlightenment doth not com- 
 port with Salem men. Where is the babe? 
 
 Pol. Ril. It*s a pig, so they say. Sir. I saw 
 the pig-baby meself. 
 
 Dr. J. Ah, there is certainly some deviltry 
 about this. 
 
106 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Pol, RiL So they say, sir. I don't jist know 
 much about these exorcisms and things, sir. 
 How do you proceed, sir? The book that the 
 Honorable Judges gave me tells somewhat, sir, 
 but sorra a bit can I read, sir. The dark read 
 me a few charms, sir, such as a-spittin' in the 
 right shoe, and spittin' to the p'ints av the 
 coompass, and squattin*. But the devil a bit 
 av me knows, anyway. But it*sfine Tve been 
 foolin' the witches by lettin* on for to read. 
 
 Dr, J, The first necessity is faith. Do you 
 believe you can summon the Witch of Endor? 
 
 PoL RiL Well, to be sure. (Aside) There's 
 no harrum in tellin' him. They say he's sold to 
 the Black Man hisself, and let's on he don't 
 belave in witchcraft at all, at all. (Aloud) I 
 think I'm a bit ahead av me toime, sir. I should 
 have been born in 1900, sir. It don't seem 
 quite right for me to say I don't quite belave 
 in witchcraft, sir. Now, if it were the quare 
 people, or the fairies 
 
 Dr, J. They are all the same, my friend, 
 and would never come with your sceptical con- 
 juration. Let me try for you, friend? What 
 is in the pot? 
 
 Pol, RiL Water, sir. 
 
 Dr, J, Such a brew will never do. You 
 must have a savory stew to greet the nostrils 
 of the canny crew. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 107 
 
 (Examines the pile with one of his staves. Police- 
 man crosses himself and spits to the points of the 
 compass.) 
 
 Pol. RiL The divil aids him. He spakes 
 in poethry, 
 
 Dr. J. Nor will this wood do, some is green. 
 That goes in last, as should be seen. 
 
 Pol. Ril. (Crosses himself) So Said Mr. Chee- 
 ver from the book, sir, to make the smoke. 
 But the b*ye did that, sir. 
 
 Dr. J. What boy? 
 
 Pol. Ril. The young limh of Satan that 
 helped me gadder wood. There he goes now. 
 
 Dr. J. William Boundboy? 
 
 (Boy returns to the doctor.) 
 
 Dr. J. Remove all this green wood and pre- 
 pare the fire. 
 
 (Boy picks out a branch here and there) 
 
 Dr. J. Now ignite it. 
 
 Willy. Please master, Tve to feed the poul- 
 try and drive the cow to pasture. 
 
 Dr. J. Ignite the fire, lad. I have done the 
 chores you neglected. 
 
 (Willy Boundboy unwillingly ignites the fire. He 
 jumps back just as something explodes. Policeman 
 jumps.) 
 
 Pol. Ril. (Crosses himself) Howly Moses! 
 (Boy starts to run. Dr. J. catches him with a crook 
 of his staff) 
 
 Dr. J. What hast put in the fire, lad? 
 
108 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Willy, Wood, master. 
 
 Dr, J, What else? (Shakes boy, gently.) 
 (Another explosion. Boy tries to run. Policeman 
 runs a few feet away.) 
 
 Dr. J. Wilt go in and stop the noise your- 
 self? (Makes as if to throw the boy in the fire) 
 
 Pol, Ril, You young limb of Satan, tell your 
 master what else there is in the fire, or Til 
 arrist ye. Tell him it's the witches, so's he 
 can exorcise thim. 
 
 Willy. (Laughing) Witches nothin*. It*s lumps 
 of saltpetre. 
 
 Dr, J, Now, get you gone and find me brews 
 To take the place of these Til use. 
 
 (Shaking boquet.) 
 
 (Exit Villy Boundboy^L, running and laughing. Water 
 heard boiling.) 
 
 Pol. Ril, (Squatting before the fire) Til jist 
 
 protect meself from him. (Warms his toes) It's 
 chilly the day, sir, and I've been walkin' since 
 four in the mornin'. 
 
 Dr, J. It rained all night. (With a toothless 
 smile) They say it is hard to summon witches 
 after rain. 
 
 Pol. Ril. Yis sor, I unnerstan' they're not 
 likin' the wet. I'm not blamin' thim for 
 wantin' to go in out av the rain. I do mesilf 
 whin I can. I was thryin' to mesilf whin the 
 judge catches me and made me come out on 
 this unsavory errand. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 109 
 
 (Herb doctor tosses herbs in kettle. Presently, a 
 strong, pleasant odor permeates the place. Blue smoke 
 arises from the kettle. Policeman wraps his coat about 
 him, stretches his legs out, and lies down in the 
 warmth and glow. Watches fire, which begins to smoke.) 
 
 Pol. Ril. (Sleepily) I seem to see the witches 
 a-comin',sir. HowMl I know the right one? Tve 
 a subpoena in me vest pocket for her nibs av 
 Indor. 
 
 Dr. J. Oh, theyMl attend to that. If she 
 
 wishes to come she will let you know at once. 
 (Policeman sleeps.) 
 
 Dr. J. Sleep, my friend. Dream of the 
 witches you say you do not believe in. Mean- 
 while, I must away to see what deviltry is a- 
 foot to bring the poor Goody Martin to the 
 gallows. (Exit, L. H.) 
 
 (Enter, R.H., imp blowing trumpet. Followed by Witch 
 of Endor, Witch Nemesis, and others on broomsticks.) 
 
 Witch No. 1. Here is a pleasant odor. 
 
 Witch No. 2. And a fine fellow. 
 
 Witch No. 3. (To Witch of Endor, after looking 
 earnestly at sleeper.) What see I in his veSt 
 pocket ? 
 
 All, but Endor. (Pointing at Endor and laughing 
 loudly) A subpoena for you? 
 
 Witch of E. A subpoena for me? 
 
 (They tweak and pull Policeman, who finally wakes 
 and sits up and rubs eyes.) 
 
 Pol. Ril. Where am I and who*s all these 
 (shaking visibly, as witches dtnce about him) hand- 
 some ladies? And where*s the herb doctor? 
 
no ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Witch No. U We are witches. 
 
 Witch No. 2. You summoned us to a feast. 
 
 Witch No. 3. He hath gone away, for it 
 was not meet, 
 That he should hear our discourse sweet. 
 
 All Witches. He scorns us 
 And warns us 
 From this glen. 
 
 Pol. Ril. Sure an' I thought he was a wiz- 
 ard, and he isn't even dacintly courteous to 
 ye. Well, ladies, it's little discourse I have, 
 after all. I've jist (Putting his hand on his vest 
 pocket)— 
 
 Witch of E. A subpoena to serve on me. 
 
 Pol. Ril. (Delightedly.) An' who are ye, 
 ma'am? Sure it's the wise woman that's 
 knowin' her own subpoena t'rough a vist pocket. 
 
 Witch of E. I am the Witch of Endor. 
 (Portentously.) 
 
 Pol. Ril. An' a mighty pleasant leddy you 
 are, too. Now, ma'am, may I— 
 All Witches. No, you mayn't (Pull his hair, 
 and pinch and tweak him. They tickle him.) 
 
 Pol. Ril. Sure, don't be so pleasant, led- 
 dies, (Out of breath.) or I'll brak me sides wid 
 laughin'. What, thin, may I ask, shall I do 
 wid the subpoena? 
 
 Witch hem. You must come before the 
 Witch Queen and get permission to serve it 
 on our sister of Endor. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 111 
 
 All Witches, Yes, that's what you must do. 
 
 Pol. RiL But how shall I do that same? 
 And will the leddy 
 
 Witch Nem. Nothing easier. WeMl call the 
 Griffin and set off at once. 
 
 (Drops something in seething pot. Red smoke. Police- 
 man drops slowly to reclining position. Sleeps. Grif- 
 fin appears in distance. Vitches dance in ring around 
 fire and sleeping Policeman.) 
 (Curtain.) 
 (End of Act I.) 
 
112 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 ACT II 
 
 Time: Evening of the Grand Jury hearing. 
 
 Place: Cell in Salem gaol, up street from tavern. It 
 is a small room with log walls, devoid of furniture 
 save a small deal table over under one small window. 
 A dish full of Mayblossoms is on the table, on the 
 end of which sits the prisoner, her shackled hands 
 in her lap, her feet, with neat low shoes on, hang- 
 ing shackled by the ankles. Susannah Martin 
 is a handsome, dignified woman scarce middle- 
 aged, scrupulously neat and well-dressed. Her 
 manner is depressed, her chin sunken, and her 
 eyes raised to look out upon the setting sun red 
 over the hill beyond. A breeze scatters a few of 
 the blossoms over her lap. 
 
 Sus, Mar, How sweet the breath of May. 
 Methinks I never knew how sweet was Spring 
 before, nor yet how blessed were these little 
 blossoms that I oft have trod on in the wood. 
 Precious little white faces, I would not give 
 you for the chair — the bed I am denied, nay, 
 nor for the sleep I have not had since I was 
 cried out upon, for ye represent not only Spring 
 but the one true friendship whilk is all, it seems, 
 I can claim in this hard town. Yea, and the 
 gentle high spirit of helpfulness which may yet 
 yet bring father Jacobs his venerable head to 
 the gallows or stake, to whilk I am so close. 
 (Shudders.) O Salem, refuge to the stricken of 
 other lands, how have ye grimly choked the 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 1 13 
 
 spiritual life of your own children, turned para- 
 dise into hell! What wrong, O Lord, have we 
 of Salem done, that thus we are afflicted with 
 a sickness of the spirit like as no other age 
 hath known, to burn and slay each other with 
 more greed than doth the poor Indian massacre 
 the invader of his land. 
 
 (Hears chains taken from door and lock undone. En- 
 ter Judge Hustle. Door closed and locked. Susannah 
 Martin slips from table and stands a piece away, courte- 
 sying respectfully, waiting for Judge Hustle to speak.) 
 
 Jadg, Has, Return to your seat on the table, 
 prithee, dame, you must be worn with the anx- 
 iety of the day*s proceedings, your chains and 
 no rest by night or day, for I perceive you 
 have no chair and no bed. The worst male- 
 factor is given a cot. 
 
 Sus. Mar, (Smiling bitterly) Nay, your wor- 
 ship, what malefactor is so evil as the witch? 
 And for her is reserved a greater degree of 
 severity. I have no seat to offer your wor- 
 ship, but the table doth well when better is not 
 at hand. I pray you, have it. 
 
 Judg. Has, Nay, I sit all day, I will have 
 you sit now. There may be much rigor be- 
 fore you, poor dame. 
 
 Sus, Mar, Then to stand will but prepare 
 me. The Lord be praised, the hardest day 
 must ever end; but I would I knew the worst. 
 
1 14 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 that I might sleep this night. You are of 
 Boston, sir? 
 
 Judg, Has, Yea. It were better were you 
 there for trial. There is more light there on 
 these things. 
 
 Sus, Mar. Now, the Lord be praised. 
 Two friends— an old one and a new one in one 
 day! Two comrades, with minds bathed in the 
 sunlight of wisdom, to guide my faltering steps: 
 'twere too much for one day an' 'twere not the 
 Divine Grace promising salvation. 
 
 Judg, Hus, (Sadly) Nay, be not too hope- 
 tul, dame, and all your neighbors against youl 
 This is not Boston, and one justice may not 
 avail against your whole bench and that famed 
 domine so pious and yet so severely narrow. 
 But here's no time to discuss those things. One 
 George Jacobs hath given me good report of 
 thee, and I would do what I can to save thee. 
 But it will be a difficult thing since Proctor's 
 escape. And methinks from Jacob's words and 
 my own observation, thou art not so well fixed 
 for friends as was Goodman Proctor. How 
 comes it? Art thou a stranger here? There 
 seems much mystery concerning thee. 
 
 Sus. Mar, The need of mystery is so far 
 gone, that those who speak it must go back 
 twenty years for cause. An' 'twas not here the 
 mystery came, for 'twas straight from James- 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 1 15 
 
 town massacre, a widow with an infant ten 
 months in my arms, that I with pilgrims flee- 
 ing from the devastation of the settlements 
 came hither. But your worship hath other 
 things to engage your time than to hear the 
 story of my life. 
 
 Judge Hus, Nay, nothing would so fill my 
 mind with pious strength to aid thee, for I 
 know that the life of such as thee can not be 
 aught but edifying. 
 
 SUS, Mar, (After a reverie, sadly.) In truth, 
 
 I scarce know where to begin, so much of 
 change and sorrow fills my life. But, though 
 I have done wrong — we are all sinners as we 
 are human — yet have I done naught so visited 
 with condemnation and threat of punishment, 
 as to increase my store of wisdom that I might 
 help my neighbors more. 
 
 Judg, Hus, It hath ever been held a criminal 
 offence to know more than thy neighbor, good 
 dame. Let me have thy tale. 
 
 Sus, Mar, I am of the mother country born, 
 your worship, a Cornish maid of Quaker stock, 
 well taught by a noble family that did help my 
 mother. In the great Non-Conformist perse- 
 cution in 1667 I was seizen, a maid of fifteen, 
 and, with other followers of Fox, shipped over 
 seas to the plantations of Virginia. The cap- 
 tain of the vessel did put us up for sale. But 
 
1 16 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 the good Lord hath ever stood by me- 
 
 Judg. Hus. (Piously) May he not now forget 
 his child. 
 
 Sus, Mar, And a youth by name of Wil- 
 liam Martin, a young planter from near James- 
 town, did purchase me and right honorably and 
 joyfully betake us to a minister and we were 
 made man and wife. In truth, he was a choice 
 man, comely to look upon, strong in body, pure 
 in mind, soft in heart, like unto John Alden 
 of this colony, (Fails into reverie, sighing and weep- 
 ing softly.) 
 
 (Sheriff enters, with tallow dip, places it on table, 
 and, after motioning to judge retires.) 
 
 Sus. Mar. Five years of bliss had we. 
 Verily, such is given to but few. For all my 
 sorrows afterwards, thus did I receive the re- 
 compense in advance. Let me not repine, who 
 hath received such great guerdon from the Lord. 
 But now, when you came hither, sir, I was be- 
 moaning my great hardship; but I perceive the 
 Lord hath sent you for even greater service 
 than to promise me salvation for the body: 'tis 
 to revive the memory of those halcyon days 
 whilk busy labors and the stress of spiritual 
 troubles in this colony hath long made strang- 
 ers to my musings. 
 
 Judg. Hus, But how came you then to 
 Salem, and was your William Martin too a 
 follower of Fox? 
 
IN YE QLDE COLONIE 117 
 
 Sus, Mar, He was not, your worship, but 
 a puritan of so high a type he could truly allow 
 that freedom of conscience which all others com- 
 bined to deny. We went our separate ways to 
 meetings, till his corporal body passed from 
 our home. Then the mutterings that long had 
 held against me in Jamestown drove me, be- 
 reft of home and husband, to seek asylum a- 
 mong those of my own faith near Massachu- 
 setts Bay. I was taken in the home of a dis- 
 tant relative and when he died he left a house 
 and farm for my maintenance. 
 
 Judg, Hus, There is a John Martin, form- 
 erly of Jamestown, now in Boston, a Godly 
 man, whilk the whole family, with a brother 
 William, were done to death in the great mas- 
 sacre near Jamestown in 1672. Think you 
 
 Sus, Mar, (Eagerly) I make no doubt, sir, 
 it is my husband's brother, for so he died, at 
 head of the company that went forth to ward 
 the savages from the colony. And that same 
 band of savages swept the colony nigh unto 
 death, and burnt the homes, 
 
 Judg, Hus. But the child — this Dame 
 Crossby 
 
 Sus. Mar, Was a poor infant I found in 
 the ashes of her home and took her to my heart 
 and brought her away with me to Salem and 
 raised her as my own. 
 
118 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Judg, HUS. A bad spawn. (Muttering.) 
 
 Sus, Mar, Nay, nay, there is no harm 
 in the poor child but perversity and ignorance 
 I could never vanquish. In truth, her parents 
 were but simple stock and spare of brains and 
 Crossby is her proper mate. They know no 
 better than to think I am in league with the 
 black man because of the poor little wisdom I 
 have to increase my world's goods and to heal 
 the sick. 
 
 Judg. Has, I would some means were com- 
 mon to teach the poor clowns to understand, 
 nor fear the truth. Oh, but for a little knowl- 
 edge to temper this dangerous superstition — 
 witchcraft. The vapor of this fear doth threat 
 to suffocate the very elect of the colony. Each 
 day some new one is cried out upon. 
 
 Sus. Mar, (Uplifted) Yea, 'tis very dark. I 
 feel the dawn is breaking! 
 
 Judg, Hus. Well-a-day, 'tis time, before we 
 riot in another inquisition. Life seems like some 
 great marsh where wisdom, like many will-o- 
 the-wisps, doth float, leading to the death many 
 an ardent seeker after truth, who in his turn 
 becometh a light, till mayhap, there be so many 
 that all be light for the most blind. But alas! 
 how many must be sacrificed. (Rising) I will 
 try get thee a cot, dame, since here thou must 
 remain for mayhap two months yet. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLQNIE 119 
 
 Sus, Mar, (Anxiously) I pray thee, go slow, 
 thou hast been cried out upon. And thou needs 
 not become a light to soon. Thou'rt young 
 yet, and art needed to save such as me. 
 
 (The door opens, and the sheriff stands on the thres- 
 hold bowing.) 
 
 Judg, Hus, Yea, I am going, sheriff. Good 
 night. Dame, pray that thy innocence be made 
 apparent, if so it be. Friend Corwin, see that 
 Dame Martin hath a bed. Two months is over- 
 long to do without sleep. 
 
 (Sheriff and judge go out, converting together, the 
 sheriff as if expostulating. Sus. Martin falls into 
 reverie.) 
 
 (Curtain.) 
 (End of Act II.) 
 
120 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 ACT III, SCENE 1 
 
 Place: Drawing Room of the Royal Residence of The 
 Miserable Tyrant in The Lunar Orb. Room lit 
 by moonlight. A revelry is in progress. All the 
 wizards and most of the witches have large, spher- 
 ical heads, and attenuated bodies. Small imps, 
 playing with conic sections and other geometrical 
 designs, sitting on the floor. 
 
 Enter Policeman Riley, R. H., (the wizards at 
 once fading away in terror) and at he approaches 
 each young witch, she flees into some mysterious 
 corner, till all but one are gone. The imps gather 
 up their playthings and follow the young witches. 
 At last, in despair, he seats himself upon a splendid 
 settle, and, addressing the beautiful, golden-haired 
 witch whose back is to him, and who is seated on 
 another settle not far in the background, busy with 
 something on the seat beside her, he says: 
 
 PoL Ril. Miss — ur, Miss ! (No answer) 
 
 Miss, I say, Miss! (No answer) 
 Miss, if you plaze. Miss, may I 
 spake with you? 
 
 Witch Bios, (Turning slightly) No sir, OUr 
 
 reception day is next week* 
 PoL RiL But, Miss, I haven*t much to say. 
 
 Witch Bios, (Turning almost around. She is sort- 
 ing playing cards.) Very well, then, it will keep. 
 Say it to my father. The Miserable Tyrant, 
 when he comes to the palace next year. 
 
 Pol, Ril, (Groans) But, Miss, I have no de- 
 sire for to mate your father. The Miserable 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 121 
 
 Tyrant. (No answer, She goes on sorting cards.) 
 
 Pol. Ril, I say, Miss. I have no desire 
 for to mate your father, The Miserable Tyrant. 
 
 Witch Bios, You should cherish and look 
 forward to what will probably be your last desire. 
 
 Pol, Ril, (Starts) I have only the few words 
 for to say, Miss, an' I can't wait (shudders) for 
 The Miserable Tyrant, an' I will say them to 
 you, if I sit here all — ur — all— ur phatever 
 times ye have in this upside-down region. 
 
 Witch Bios, (dignifiediy) This is the Lunar 
 Orb. It is not upside down. It is your un- 
 couth Earth which is upside down. If you 
 wish to go at once 
 
 Pol, Ril, Not until I have said my say — 
 ur — hur — discharged me juty, as it were. 
 
 Witch Bios, I was just going to say, that 
 seat you are in is charged with an electric bat- 
 tery of the variety used in the moon: it is a 
 time, automatic invention of my father's, and 
 suddenly without warning it will dislodge any- 
 body 
 
 Pol, Ril, (Hurriedly changing to chair) Oh! 
 
 Witch Bios, That chair — all these chairs, 
 are only shadows, however substantial they 
 may seem, and appear and disappear at my 
 father's will no matter 
 
 Pol, Ril, But The Miserable Tyrant is not 
 
 here, sure, Miss. (Rises trembling.) 
 
122 E CHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Witch Bios, (Rising gravely) I was going tO 
 
 say, no matter where he may be. The Moon 
 is occult, and Papa can exercise his will in tele- 
 pathic communication with the chair, which is a 
 sentient being, same as you; indeed, more sen- 
 tient than you will soon be 
 
 (Policeman is terror stricken.) ^ 
 
 Witch Bios, I mean in this climate. 
 (Policeman seats himself upon a stool, of which 
 there are many of all sizes and colors scattered about, 
 shaped like mushrooms. 
 
 Witch Bios, (Rises, walking forward, dropping 
 her arms, also the cards, which scatter carelessly in 
 a shower about her) And as for the stools, they 
 are taught to fold themselves up like umbrellas 
 and pack themselves in the smallest compass 
 possible at a moment's notice, ready for our 
 flitting. We flit every week — in the night — 
 before the morning we are to receive. 
 
 Pol. Ril, Then my chance to see The Mis- 
 erable Tyrant goes glimmering, bedads! 
 
 (The air hurtles, he looks around surprised.) 
 
 Witch Bios, I thought you did not wish to 
 see himi However, I can arrange it 
 
 Pol. Ril. Oh don't! Sure, I would'nt have 
 ye do it for a week av Sundays! 
 
 (Air hurtles— he looks uneasy.) 
 
 Witch Bios, It's no trouble. In the Moon, 
 you just express a wish or desire and the ma- 
 chinery is at once set in motion to bring it to 
 pass. I may say that your remark was equiv- 
 alent to a wish. 
 
IN YE QLDE COLONIE 123 
 
 Pol, Ril, (Anxiously, and approaching witch con- 
 fidentially) Och, I don't think it was, Miss. 
 Sure, Tve said many a thing like that afore and 
 niver had any av thim come to pass as wishes. 
 Now, as to the coming to pass av this one— 
 not on your life! (Comes a little nearer witch. Air 
 hurtles.) 
 
 Witch Bios, But I think, yes, I think the 
 remark was said in the spirit of a wish. 
 
 Pol, Ril, (Sulkily) Tm dotty if I don't think 
 I know better'n you. Miss, phat I think mesilf . 
 
 (Air hurtles.) 
 
 Wiich Bios, Well, we'll leave it to my 
 father. He will know. And he will be here 
 in a moment. 
 
 Pol, Ril, Wowl (Air hurtles) Phat is that 
 noise? 
 
 Witch Bios, It is the concussion produced 
 on the air by your bad language. Please use 
 good grammar and more elegant expletives 
 when speaking in this palace. The air is liable 
 to explode from the concussion, ever since we 
 entertained Lindley Murray. 
 
 Pol, Ril, I can't, really I can't. Miss. Sure 
 I would if I could. I aint eddicated. 
 
 Witch, Bios, Dear me! Every one in the 
 Moon is born educated. Put out your tongue. 
 Never fear! Your tongue must be crooked, and 
 I will straighten it. 
 
124 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Pol, Ril. (Chokily, with mouth shut, as very 
 scared) Ugh — Ugh — Ugh — Ugh! 
 
 Witch Bios, No, your tongue is not straight! 
 But never mind (Moving fingers gracefully before 
 his face.) You are not capable of knowing 
 what condition your tongue is in. I can oper- 
 ate just as well with your mouth shut. Hence- 
 forth speak elegantly. Afflict not the peaceful 
 and sensitive ether of this palace; in the name 
 of my father, The Miserable Tyrant. 
 
 Pol. Ril, (Elegantly) Whom, but a moment 
 ago, you said. Princess, would not be here un- 
 til next year; and say now, will be here in a 
 minute. 
 
 Witch Bios, That is correct. Lying is un- 
 know, here in the Moon. It would not be of 
 any use, as we can all see right through every- 
 thing, even a Moon body. My father only 
 comes here once a year, but, whenever his 
 wisdom is required, he can project his mind 
 here for a moment, or I can transport here 
 there. (Policeman shivers) But we will dismiss 
 the subject. Please pick up my cards. 
 
 Pol, Ril. With delight. Princess. (Kneels 
 dowa.) 
 
 Witch Bios, Be a little careful, as, in your 
 earthy hands, they may bring fire; and, as fire 
 is almost unknown here, I know not what 
 would happen. (Policeman drops cards hastily.) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 125 
 
 Witch Bios. (Shrieks) Don't drop them, they 
 will turn, to powder. Besides, (Placidly) they 
 are your fate, all properly arranged, and, if 
 you do not pick them up in the order they 
 fell, I do not know what unforeseen calamity 
 may happen you. 
 
 Pol, Ril. (Teeth chattering) Princess, will yoU 
 
 be pleased to read them as they lie? I will 
 then endeavor to pick them up in the correct 
 order. 
 
 Witch Bios, I shall have to call Witch Nem- 
 esis for that. I sort the cards of Fate — she 
 reads them. 
 
 Pol, Ril, No, I beg, do not call anybody 
 else. I hope, dear Princess 
 
 Witch Bios, Terms of endearment not 
 allowed in the Moon. 
 
 Pol, Ril, I hope, Princess, that you arranged 
 them kindly for a poor Wanderer. 
 
 Witch Bios, Well, I do not know one thing 
 about arranging cards. That is why I hold 
 the position. 
 
 Pol, Ril What a shame! 
 
 Witch Bios, Sir! 
 
 Pol, Ril, What a merry thought! 
 
 Witch Bios, Your language is truly elegant 
 now, I see, sir. You are very susceptible to 
 transforming influences. What would you like 
 to be, sir? 
 
126 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Pol, Ril, (Hastily) Just myself, Princess, 
 In any other form Td smell as — I mean Td 
 be the same earthy fellow. Besides, my wife 
 would not recognize me. 
 
 Witch Bios, Oh, that is unnecessary. She 
 will probably never see you again. 
 
 Pol, Ril. But, Princess, I have safe conduct 
 from the Griffin. 
 
 Witch Bios, Well, of course, it does not 
 matter to me. I thought you would be rather 
 pleased. 
 
 Pol, Ril, (Superciliously, aside) Witches have 
 no souls, anyway I Now, here is a stunner! 
 (Aloud) And you know, de — ur — ur Princess, 
 that it is not the earthy form but the spirit 
 that makes the man. And you cannot change 
 that, either you or The Miserable Tyrant, your 
 father. 
 
 Witch Bios, (Placidly) Truly, Earth Gnome: 
 hence, we allow no spirits in here, either in 
 bottles or bodies. Both yours are with the 
 Griffin. 
 
 Pol. Ril, Wh— hat! 
 
 Witch Bios, I said both. Although, as to 
 the bottle, the Griffin has to post up so much, 
 in order to stand so much communication with 
 the Earth Gnomes, that he rarely returns a 
 bottle in the same condition in which he re- 
 ceived it. You look surprised. Did you ex- 
 
I N YE OLDE CQLONIE 127 
 
 pect you gave the Griffin nothing for your safe 
 conduct? Do you get something for nothing on 
 your Earth? 
 
 PoL RiL Emphatically no, Madam, 
 
 Witch Bios. Nor anywhere else in the Uni- 
 verse. It is the Lawl And for your safe con- 
 duct you gave your two spirits, each which 
 rules you at different times, according to your 
 will. It is a great power of choice you have, 
 only you do not know it. The lesser spirit 
 may be by now in the Griffin; but the greater, 
 for which he would positively have no use, is 
 checked and laid away in an urn till you go 
 forth again, if ever. 
 
 Pol, RiL (Sobbingiy) I wish to go forth 
 right now, Princess. 
 
 Witch Bios, Impossible. I have taken a 
 fancy to you. 
 
 Pol, Ril, Then when can I go? Make it 
 as soon as possible. Princess. 
 
 Witch Bios. When my fancy is done. It 
 may be next minute, or it may not be for 
 years; perhaps not forever! 
 
 Pol, Ril, (Gloomily) You Ought to make it 
 very soon. Princess, for sake of the wi-i-i- 
 zard who, somewhere here in the Moon, will 
 have an aching heart — or whatever corresponds 
 to his heart— while a mere Earth Gnome sup- 
 plants him in yours. 
 
128 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Witch Bios. No fear, for I can love every- 
 thing and everybody at once. 
 
 Pol, RiL (Falls limp to the floor. Mutters) Then 
 I am undone! 
 
 Witch Bios. Arise, and the fairest witch in 
 the Palace will amuse you. 
 
 (She touches him with her finger tips, leaving phos- 
 phorescent spots, and raising her hands as he rises 
 slowly. Points him to settle where she had sat. Pre- 
 pares to dance. Draws up front hem of mulle gown 
 and back hem of same, pins together over shoulder. 
 Draws up side hems, and pins together over other 
 shoulder. Is in green tights. Twists legs to look like 
 flower stalks. Loups and flings to invisible music, 
 which grows gradually louder. Tune '*Tam O'Shanter.*' 
 Her hair is loosened by pulling out one pin. Many 
 stampings in her dance, and much pointing and gras- 
 ping at him, who watches her sleepily. Finally, as it 
 grows dusk in the room, she is drawn off by some in- 
 visible agency by her waist, her feet trailing, her upper 
 body drooping forward, her arms stretched toward him 
 and her hair blowing furiously. 
 
 For Encore. Dance repeated, in dim light, he asleep, 
 she covered with phosphorescence. Electric sparks 
 shoot from her finger tips and toes. At close, she 
 clasps him in her arms, and the two float out back- 
 ground.) 
 
 (Re-enter Riley much disheveled and still drowsy.) 
 
 Pol. Ril. She's gone, and my warrant not 
 yet served. When shall I have such an oppor- 
 tunity again! 
 
 (Burst of music and of moonlight. 
 
 Transition to Scene II. The Miserable Tyrant drops 
 from nowhere in particular into centre of stage.) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 1£9 
 
 ACT III, SCENE 2 
 Place: Drawing Room of The Miterable Tyrant. 
 
 The M, T. (Sepuichraiiy) In a minute! 
 
 (He is very emaciated, wears a very large opal crown. 
 His robes, of a sea-green material, hang on him, and 
 his cloak trails limply after him. Wears large shoes 
 with curling tips, which toe-in badly. Dra'gs a large, 
 stained iron sword in his right hand, holds up stiffly 
 in the other hand a mother-of-pearl sceptre, tipped with 
 conch shells.) 
 
 PoL Ril. (Regarding him askance) Who might 
 you be? 
 
 The M. T, (Short of breath) I am— The Mis 
 — serable— Ty — rant. 
 
 PoL Ril. (Aside) You don*t look very for- 
 midable. (Swells his chest) I can go you one bet- 
 ter myself. (Aloud) You don*t look very well, sir. 
 
 The M, r. No, I am— miserable— all the time. 
 
 PoL RiL Still, your majesty, a tyrant has 
 many things to compensate him — even if he has 
 miserable health. 
 
 The M, r. Probable, quite probable, in every 
 case you Earth Gnomes have ever known. But 
 mine is a case of Mind, I am miserable be- 
 cause I am a tyrant. If I were only a plain, 
 every day Moon wizard, I might be happy. 
 
 PoL RiL Or even a witch princess. 
 
 The M. T, No, no, they are not happy 
 
130 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 either. Rank only means misery — in the Moon. 
 The more rank the more misery. 
 
 Pol. RiL That's rank. It*s just the other way 
 on earth. 
 
 The M, T, That's why it's this way on the 
 Moon. YourVe all upside down anyway on 
 the Earth. 
 
 Pol, RiL Maybe you'd like to put off your 
 —ur— mortal— ur, I mean your moon— ur coil, 
 and be something else than a Miserable Tyrant. 
 How would you like to be— ur— a policeman? 
 
 The M. T, You mean to change places with 
 you? 
 
 PoL RiL Exactly. 
 
 The M. r. (Hopefully, moving nearer the police- 
 man) You would like to wear this costume? 
 
 PoL RiL (Cautiously) Well not exactly, but 
 I'd try to stand it until I could improve it. 
 
 The M. T, It could not be improved. And 
 you would have to wear it as long as you were 
 The Miserable Tyrant. And you think you 
 would be happy wearing this heavy crown, 
 carrying this meaningless sceptre, and dragging 
 this ponderous sword that you could never use? 
 
 PoL RiL (Delightedly) Exactly! (Reaching for 
 
 them) I'd find a use for them. 
 
 The M. T, (Ignoring his action) And seeing 
 your people flee at your approach; and reward- 
 ing every good action with a (Raising his sword 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 131 
 
 and cutting the air feebly with it.) And sitting lon 
 a hard gold chair without any cushion; and 
 sleeping on a bed of roses that have not had 
 their thorns removed; and having the Lord 
 Chamberlain messing into everything to eat be- 
 fore you were allowed to touch it; and never 
 being able to look into anybody's eyes when 
 he is speaking to you because he is always kow- 
 towing; and living in a constant suspicion of 
 everybody that he is wanting to steal your 
 business? 
 
 Pol, RiL (Shaking his head vigorously) I COuld 
 Stand more than that to be king. 
 
 The M, T. It isn't king: it is Miserable 
 Tyrant. 
 
 Pol, RiL Same thing. 
 
 The M, T, Not at all. The one has nothing 
 to do to hold his position but look sweet; the 
 other one's life is a continual stunt. He works 
 all day and stays awake all night to see that no 
 one's lying in wait to do him out of his job. 
 Pol. Ril, (Cheerfully) Oh, very well, I'm 
 a pretty strenuous proposition. I'm ready to 
 take consequences. (Starts to peel off his coat.) 
 
 The M, T, (Mournfully) There's what it is to 
 be a Miserable Tyrant. Nothing would give me 
 greater pleasure than to gratify your innocent 
 ambition, but that would not be filling my role 
 of Miserable Tyrant. Instead of that, I am 
 
132 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 forced to condemn you to death. (Wiping his eyes.) 
 
 Pol. RiL (Thunderstruck) Are you to execute 
 the sentence? 
 
 The M. T, Not at all. There might be some 
 compensation in the thing if I did. That's why 
 these tears! The Gentle Improver does it with 
 this sword. (Blows one of the conch shells at tip of 
 the sceptre.) 
 
 Pol, Ril. (Uneasily) And who is The Gentle 
 Improver? 
 
 The M, T. He is an automatic executioner 
 who can lift this castle, if necessary. 
 
 Pol. RiL (Dropping on knees) Mighty and Most 
 Puissant— ur— Miserable Tyrant, I relinquish 
 any desire to even for a moment so much as 
 share your power. I assure you, I never even 
 felt such a mad desire as perhaps you think. 
 I did but desire to be complaisant to you. 
 
 The M, T, Dear friend, you expressed the 
 desirel (Wearily) Rise. Let us dismiss the 
 subject. 
 
 PoL Ril. Just a minute, your imajesty. 
 When will The Gentle Improver be here, to 
 — ur— (Groaning) execute the sentence? I have 
 a few things to settle up first. 
 
 The M. T. In five minutes, dear friend. I 
 have set slow machinery in motion, as the 
 only pleasure I can enjoy about your execu- 
 tion is your present misery. And I, being also 
 miserable, love company. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 133 
 
 Pol. Ril. (Aside) Then you don't get much 
 pleasure, on the word of a policeman. (Rising, 
 with erect head and jaunty air) Your majesty said 
 
 something about machinery — is that the way 
 you came here? Your daughter 
 
 The M. T. Which daughter? I have one 
 for every day in the year. 
 
 Pol. RiL The Princess Blossom. 
 
 The M. r. Ah, yes, I have heard of her. 
 We are not acquainted. Yes, you expressed a 
 desire and the sound waves took it up and 
 carried it half around the Moon in search of 
 me. The desire partakes of the character of the 
 person it is intended for, is a positive force, and 
 is only attracted by a similar positive force, and 
 can not be delivered to any person but the one 
 that possesses that similar positive force — the 
 person you intend the message for. (Shuts eyes.) 
 
 PoL Ril. Not much like the A. D. T*s. But 
 isn't your majesty falling asleep? 
 
 The M. T. Oh, don't suggest such a thing 
 as falling when one can accomplish the feat 
 without. It is time for my afternoon nap, and 
 it is always most convenient to take it when I 
 am making a scientific explanation. But I shall 
 have to repeat this, as you interrupted me. 
 
 Pol. Ril. I beg your majesty not to trouble— 
 
 The M. T. Dear Friend, if you interrupt 
 again, 1 shall have to begin from the begin- 
 
134 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 ning of this scene, from **In a minute!" (Police- 
 man shivers) And The Gentle Improver might 
 arrive and deprive me of my audience before 
 I was through. (The Miserable Tyrant repeats from 
 *'You expressed a desire/' then continues) When 
 
 the sound waves reach my ear they deposit the 
 desire there and if convenient I obey the call 
 at once. 
 
 PoL Ril. But how if there is a counter call? 
 
 The M. T, Oh, I can not fulfill another 
 wish until the first is settled. 
 
 PoL RiL (Brightening) Well, if I desired to 
 see you, you are here. I now desire to have 
 
 you gone. (Makes a motion with his foot.) 
 
 The M. r. But 
 
 PoL RiL Dear Friend, that is my present 
 desire. 
 
 The M. T. (Sighs copiously^through other conch) 
 But you have not seen me all. 
 
 PoL RiL What more is there to see of you? 
 Methinks there seldom has been less of any man. 
 
 The M. T, You can never see all of me uu- 
 til you can see right through me: And you 
 are an Earth Gnome, and consequently do not 
 possess the power. (Sighs through shell again.) 
 
 PoL RiL (Crestfallen) Your majesty is beg- 
 ging the question. You cannot expect the im- 
 possible of me. The Princess did not: she 
 gave me the necessary powers I lacked. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 135 
 
 The M, T. She is not a Miserable Tyrant. 
 Besides, the question is too deep for you. 
 (Enter Automaton of truculent appearance. To Auto- 
 maton) Just Stand there. (To Policeman) Let 
 me make you acquainted with your friend, 
 The Gentle Improver. 
 
 PoL RiL Very happy to make your ac- 
 quaintance, sir. Did I not hear the Princess 
 Blossom say something about cards, your ma- 
 jesty? Is this all in my cards? I think she said 
 Witch Nemesis could read them. (Aside) Til 
 trust to women sooner every time. 
 
 The M, T, All right, she is coming at our 
 wish. 
 
 Witch Nem. (Hops into the middle of the group) 
 Here I am. What is required of me? 
 
 The M, T. The Policeman wishes you to 
 read his cards and see whether The Gentle Im- 
 prover shall operate on him at once. 
 
 Witch Nem, Well, let the cards appear. 
 
 (Cards fly in from every direction and drop at her 
 feet. She gathers them up and shuffles them.) 
 
 Witch Nem, ( Startled — posing dramatically) 
 
 What is this! Blossom intervenes! (To Miser- 
 able Tyrant) Hah! Miserable Tyrant, your 
 daughter fancies this Earth Gnome. Permit 
 not even the glance of his eye to be interfered 
 with whom your superior holds enshrined in 
 her heart. 
 
 Pol. RiL (Aside) Thanks be to Blossie! 
 
136 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Oh, won't we have a rare old time when— ur 
 —when— Oh, I mustn^t express a wish. 
 
 The M. T. (Humbly) Policeman, I hope you 
 do not hold any grudge against me. 
 
 PoL Ril. Ur — why— dear friend, (Grins) 
 Not at all. Shake hands. 
 
 The M. r. I dare not. I should have to 
 
 lay these (indicating sword and sceptre) down, and 
 somebody might pick them up. (Looking around 
 fearfully) 
 
 Pol. Ril. But you do not steal here in the 
 Moon? 
 
 The M, T. That is not stealing. It is the 
 Law! Whoever holds these insignia is The 
 Miserable Tyrant. 
 
 PoL Ril. I thought you were so miserable 
 over it that you would be quite 
 
 The M, T. Oh, let us dismiss the subject! 
 And now you may answer to me for catching 
 Blossom's fancy. I shall ask her permission 
 
 to imprison you for life. (To Gentle improver) 
 You can go, (Sounds conch) and NemesiS. (Ex- 
 it Nemesis and The Gentle Improver. Enter Blossom, 
 floating.) 
 
 Witch Bios. Wherefore am I called, Miser- 
 able Tyrant, and yet my father? 
 
 The M. 7. (Aside) Another handsome daugh- 
 ter. (To Blossom) Daughter, you may kiss mc. 
 (Blossom approaches and jerks up sceptre to lips 
 reluctantly.) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 137 
 
 The M. T, No, no, not that. (Motioning to- 
 wards mouth. Blossom stoops to kiss sword.) 
 
 The M. r. Not that either. Urn — um! 
 
 (Touching lips.) 
 
 Witch Bios. Will nothing else do? I'd rather 
 kiss the Policeman. (Policeman puts out his chest.) 
 
 The M. T. Daughter, you make me sad at 
 such unfilial conduct. But it has ever been 
 thus on the Moon. And yes, I think I can 
 think of something else that would afford me 
 almost as much pleasure. Now if you had no 
 objection to my imprisoning this Earth Gnome 
 here! 
 
 Witch Bios, None whatever. Do so at once. 
 (To Policeman) It is much pleasanter to be in 
 prison than out on the Moon. Call the Grif- 
 fin, Miserable Tyrant, and yet my father. 
 (Miserable Tyrant sounds conch shell.) 
 
 Grif, (Crawling in, zig-zag land maudlin) What*S 
 wanted of me? 
 
 The M, 7. Put the Earth Gnome in gaol 
 until the Princess Blossom is over her fancy 
 for him. Let him have the usual punishments. 
 
 Grif, (Gruffly) Get on my back. 
 
 Pol, R\l (Trembling) I can walk very well, 
 thank you. 
 
 The M, T, Then you can do what no one 
 else can do on the Lunar Orb. Besides pris- 
 oners are not allowed to walk — it would be in- 
 
138 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 human. Have you not heard of the Great 
 Canals and Mountains of the Moon— Oh, such 
 is fame! 
 
 PoL RiL (Boldly) Yes, and I have heard of 
 your great engineering feats. Surely there 
 are bridges! 
 
 The M, T, Bridges for people who do not 
 walk! Let us all laugh! (All laugh, The Miser- 
 able Tyrant laughing through conch shell.) 
 
 Witch Bios. Come, we will help you mount 
 lest you hurt yourself. (Blossom and the Miser- 
 able Tyrant assist Policeman onto Griffin's back. 
 Griffin reels off with his load.) 
 
 The M. r. Daughter, you might remain a- 
 while, I desire to talk with you. 
 
 Witch Bios, I have business elsewhere 
 which makes it necessary that I shall not be 
 on the best of terms with you. (Going.) 
 
 The M, r. (Sighs loudly through conch shell) 
 Well, so long! (Exit Blossom.) 
 
 The M. T, I think Til just follow and sec 
 what bearing this little business has upon this 
 (raising sceptre) SO that I shall know when to 
 call this into use (raising sword.) 
 
 (Exit The Miserable Tyrant.) 
 
 (Curtain.) 
 
 (End of Scene 2, Act III.) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 1_39 
 
 ACT III, SCENE 3 
 
 Place: Great, gloomy Grotto, with one side full of 
 shelves holding urns. In the rear, a great pile 
 of liquor flasks, apparently empty and of all sizes 
 and shapes. Earth Gnomes wandering over rocks 
 far in rear, very dejected. 
 
 Enter above Griffin, flying. He alights and 
 Policeman steps from his back. 
 
 Grif, Here we are. What is your august 
 will? Hie! I hope you will-hic-make my servi- 
 tude as light— hie— as possible, honored prison- 
 er. Tm not — hie- in just good trim now. 
 
 Pol. RiL Servitude!!— honored! Pray, am 
 I a prisoner or not? 
 
 Grif. Sure! 
 
 Pol. RiL Why then do you speak of servi- 
 tude? 
 
 Grif. Beeause I am nothing more or less 
 the the servant of all prisoners. 
 
 Pol. Ril. (Gratified) Indeed! Among the de- 
 cent people of Salem the gaolor is the tyrant 
 of the prisoner. 
 
 Grif. (Cheerfully) Yes, I havc heard that 
 everything there is upside down. But, honored 
 prisoner, what you had in that bottle was all 
 right. Got any more? 
 
 Pol. Ril. Well, no, I judge you got it all. 
 
 Grif. Well, I was just going to say that when 
 I get enough I go to sleep, and then I do not 
 
140 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 know what is going on about me. 
 
 PoU RiL Even though the prisoners es- 
 caped? 
 
 Grif, Even so. 
 
 PoL RiL And then, what would The Mis- 
 erable Tyrant do to you? 
 
 Grif, What could he do? Isn't that in the 
 nature of things? 
 
 PoL RiL But Princess Blossom, who has 
 taken a shine to me? (Aside) Bad cess to her. 
 
 Grif. Oh, Bios., she's all right. 
 
 PoL RiL She belongs to the royal family: 
 are you not afraid of offending her? 
 
 Grif, No, Because she is a princess she 
 is my inferior. And I am the inferior of an 
 unofficial person. 
 
 PoL RiL Ah, I see. (Tapping his forehead) 
 
 Then tell me, why are you officials? I should 
 think you would kick against your very birth. 
 Grif, (Scratching his nose with a claw) Oh, we 
 worry along somehow under the burden of re- 
 sponsibility. We are not born so, but get to 
 be officials by chance. Somebody's got to be 
 
 victimized. I myself (casting down his eyes mod- 
 estly) am just now laying for The Miserable 
 Tyrant's sceptre, crown and sword. Nemesis 
 has promised to help me. You see he is not 
 half miserable enough to fit the role, in pop- 
 ular opinion, so I think I will get it. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 141 
 
 Pol. Ril. Being so preoccupied then, I 
 should think you would never notice if one 
 out of this thousand or so urns should disap- 
 pear. 
 
 Grif, (Roars) Do not raise that subject. The 
 keys of the castle are nothing to the value of 
 those urns. Say, honored prisoner, can you 
 not tell me where I can get some more of what 
 was in that bottle? 
 
 PoL RiL I really do not know, unless an- 
 other visitor from Salem should arrive. 
 
 Grif, (Eagerly) Hahl Do they all carry them? 
 
 PoL RiL Oh no, just some of the men. 
 And generally youMl find one about an uniform 
 like this. (Policeman strikes his chest) 
 
 Grif, Hah! Let us watch for one then, with 
 your august permission. (Looks out of window 
 hole in Grotto) What do I see! Some Earth 
 Gnomes approaching! Ah, ah! One is — is hah 
 —he has— a bottle, oh joy. And yes, an uni- 
 form on. He is — he is — (Claws neck excitedly) 
 is — a policeman. Ah, he turns — he goes — (roars) 
 the other way! (Griffin sighs and raises a great 
 wind in the Grotto. Falls over inert.) 
 
 Pol, Ril, Let me divert your mind, poor 
 Griffin. When may I expect a visit from my 
 charming Princess Blossom? 
 
 Grif, (Hoarsely) Oh, never while she fancies 
 you. 
 
142 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 PoL Ril. Then she is probably off with 
 someone she hates now, eh? And yet I thought 
 she loved me. 
 
 Grif, You talk of love and hate. What are 
 they? Some vulgar earthy phantoms, I suppose. 
 
 Pol. Ril, That was what I felt for my wife 
 when I married her. 
 
 Grif. Wife? What is wife? A bottle of this 
 stuff ( rubbing his stomach ) or a square meal? 
 
 PoL Ril. Neither. She is the Boss. 
 
 Grif. Well, and what do you marry this 
 wife who is Boss for? 
 
 PoL Ril. Oh, to sew on our buttons and 
 clean the house, and make the meals and wash 
 and save the money, and so forth. 
 
 Grif. (Brightly) Ah, I see. She is your do- 
 mestic slave! Good! But we have automatons 
 for that, like The Gentle Improver. So I see 
 now what love is: it is the feeling that makes 
 you exploit all your Boss' — that is your wife's, 
 time and services. And does she like that sort 
 of thing? 
 
 PoL Ril. Oh, no, no, no, no, youVe all 
 tangled up. It's the feeling that makes us value 
 our wives above everything else we possess 
 in the world. 
 
 Grif. (Indignantly) Well, is'nt that what I 
 said: because they save you so much work. 
 
 PoL Ril. (Despairingly) Oh, you'll never un- 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 143 
 
 derstand (Aside) But you're only a griffin. (A- 
 loud) What do you feel toward your mates here 
 in the Moon? 
 
 Grif. Approval, to be sure. And when we 
 see anything to disapprove, we just go to op- 
 posite sides of the Moon. 
 
 Pol. RiL Well let us return to our mutton. 
 If the Princess fan— I mean, don't fan— I mean 
 if the Princess fancies me so much she wants 
 to keep away from me, I should think she 
 would not care how soon I returned to Salem. 
 
 Grif, You're mistaken. A fancy is the 
 strongest feeling which we Moon people have, 
 excepting a desire. It is like the repulsion of 
 a magnetic pole, and the desire is like the at- 
 traction. 
 
 PoL RiL Well why can't I get off the Moon, 
 as far as possible away from her? 
 
 Grif, That's too deep for you. And if you 
 could, you'd simply fall through interlunar 
 space and arrive on Earth 
 
 PoL RiL A spot of grease! 
 
 Grif, Very graphic but rather exaggerated, 
 I don't think there would be anything to arrive. 
 
 PoL RiL Well, when shall I be released? 
 
 Grif, When Blossom meets some neutrali- 
 zing agency. 
 
 PoL RiL Eh? takes another fancy— then I 
 am free? 
 
144 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Grif. Well, but there's your spirit. (Takes 
 
 down an urn and taps it.) 
 
 Pol. RiL Yes, I understand that gets handed 
 back to me then. 
 
 GnY. That's a mistake. It used to be so, 
 but it is not any longer. (Puts um back.) 
 
 PoL RiL Indeed! When did the law change? 
 (Looks at the urn longingly.) 
 
 Grif. Just a minute ago. I changed it my 
 self. We are all lawmakers in the Moon — all 
 but the Royal Family— but let us dismiss the 
 subject. I see I can strike a bargain with you. 
 Now, the law remains unchanged with the 
 poor, as they have not anything to give any- 
 way for their spirits. But you who can pay, 
 must plank down the needful. 
 
 PoL RiL ll thought slang was explosive in 
 the Moon. 
 
 Grif, For Earth Gnomes — not for Moon 
 People. Now, you'll get your urn as soon as 
 you can procure me enough of what was in 
 that bottle to put me asleep. 
 
 PoL RiL But it may take— a hogshead. 
 
 Grif, (Politely) I beg of you, dear friend! 
 Why, what was in that bottle put me almost 
 to sleep. 
 
 PoL RiL (Aside) And it was only half full. 
 (Aloud) Well, agreed! But why not count that 
 bottle as part of the contract fulfilled? 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 145 
 
 Grif. I would, to oblige you, but I can not 
 in the nature of things. How can I be so 
 asleep when I am half asleep that you can take 
 your urn? 
 
 PoL RiL I see. I don't get it while you're 
 awake anyway you put it? 
 
 Grif. Exactly. I should be moon-outlawed 
 if I permitted you to get it while I was awake 
 on guard. And, once outlawed, I am liable to 
 fall, head first, from the Moon any time. 
 
 PoL RiL Well, you'd only fall to the Earth 
 where there is plenty of what's in that bottle. 
 
 Grif. I should like to arrange it so. But 
 I'd more probably fall into Venus, and the 
 gnomes there are even worse than you Earth 
 gnomes. Then our bargain is closed. (Looks 
 out of Grotto) Ahl I see some hope for you. 
 Blossom is coming. 
 
 PoL RiL Oh joy! then her fancy is over. 
 Ur— has the Princess the ur— neutralizing 
 agent with her? 
 
 Grif. I believe so. You can look for yourself, 
 
 PoL RiL (Gazes from window hole. Aside) By 
 my stick! it is Officer O'Brien, from Andover, 
 and he has a still on him. It takes two witches 
 to hold him. What can bring him here? 
 
 Grif. What's that? 
 
 PoL RiL Nothing. I said it is a friend— 
 
146 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 that is all. I suppose I might go to meet 
 
 them, eh? (Cunningly.) 
 
 Grif. Your servant, sir! But remember, it 
 would be a little inconvenient to get to Earth 
 without the contents of your urn. 
 
 Pol. RiL Oh, I shall come back. Ta— ta. 
 
 (Curtain) 
 {End of Scene 3, Act III,) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 147 
 
 ACT III SCENE 4 
 
 Place: A dell outside of the Grotto. 
 
 Blossom guiding Policeman O'Brien's footsteps, with 
 help of another young Witch. Enter Policeman 
 Riley. R. H. 
 
 PoL Ril, How — de — do, — Princess Blos- 
 som. And this fair lady, wie gehts? (Air hurtles) 
 How's your health, O'Brien? You have a still 
 
 on. (Air hurtles.) 
 
 PoL O'B. How'd, Riley? Can't ye give 
 — hand hie — help me — hie home? 'Fraid I'm 
 hie— ur— too much — for hie — ur these two la — 
 hie hies. 
 
 Pol. Ril. Certainly, old chap, sit down. 
 That's what you need, sit down. Princess, if 
 he don't sit down, he'll ur — bring fire down— 
 ur — presently. He's almost in a state of spon- 
 taneous combustion now. (Princess and young 
 Vitch shrink away. O'Brien sinks to Earth.) 
 
 Bios. Policeman, my fancy is transferred 
 from you to this Earth Gnome. We are taking 
 him to the Griffin for safekeeping. But per- 
 haps you can do it better. 
 
 PoL Ril. I am sure I can. Princess. I've 
 handled many a one afflicted like him. You 
 had better go and prepare the way. 
 
 (Blossom exit R. H.) 
 
 Pol. Ril. (To young Vitch) You go too, my 
 blithesome fairy. (She refuses to move) He kisses 
 
148 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 her. (She flies after Blossom, shrieking. To O'Brien, 
 slapping him on the back.) Wake Up, Patsy. What 
 
 brought you here? 
 
 PoU O'B. (Sleepily) Your sister Mary, who 
 has four votes in our village be varchue of tVee 
 sons an' th' auld man, requisted me, as her 
 officer, for to go in s'arch of ye. 
 
 Pol, Ril, (Going through O'Brien's pockets) 
 That's all right, my boy. (Flourishing a bottle) 
 And I see you'll bring me. 
 
 Pol, O'B, (Sleepily) Is this Purgatory? 
 
 Pol, Ril, It is, Patsy. 
 
 Pol, O'B, A very pleasant place. (Snores.) 
 
 Pol. Ril, (Pirouettes) Now, how to get my 
 urn, then to serve my warrant, and begone 
 from this inverted sphere, (puts bottle in pocket.) 
 
 (Drags O'Brien by the heels, one each side of him, 
 off, R. H., after tying his coat under his head for a 
 rest.) 
 
 (Curtain.) 
 
 (End of Scene 4, Act III,) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 149 
 
 ACT III, SCENE 5 
 Place: Grotto, with Earth Gnomes in distance- 
 Griffin, Princess Blossom, Witch Nemesis, and young 
 Witch conferring R. H. Enter Policeman Riley 
 drajging Policeman O'Brien by heels, rear. 
 
 PoL RiL Here^s your spark, Princess Blos- 
 som. (Throws O'Brien's legs down.) 
 
 Grif, Oh, put him anywhere that the Prin- 
 cess cannot see him, and do not bother us. 
 
 PoL RiL It's queer love affairs they have 
 in the Moon. Well, Patsy, if your new flame 
 does not care enough for you to look after 
 your comfort. Til make you comfortable for 
 the sake of old times, for it's a long time you'll 
 be here, I'm thinking, if you wait for your 
 soul. Griffie, I say, Griffie. 
 
 Bios, Don't bother him. Don't you see 
 there is a revolution imminent? 
 
 (Griffin describes a pas-de-seul^ and cracks his tail 
 in air. Blossom and Nemesis pirouette. Young Witch 
 dances jig. All strike attitudes.) 
 
 PoL RiL And what's your father. The Mis- 
 erable Tyrant, doing in all this? 
 
 Bios, Oh, he's laying for The Gentle Im- 
 prover's job. He thinks his health may improve. 
 
 Pol, RiL Quite so, if you leave him the 
 sword he loves. 
 
 Bios, (To young Witch) Child, go and amuse 
 this uncouth Earth Gnome until we call you. 
 
150 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 (Young Witch goes to Policeman and begine to tickle 
 him and pull his hair.) 
 
 Pol. RiL May I ask your frolicsome love- 
 liness how you came to dance the fine jig you 
 just did. (Catches her hands, and holds them, iswing- 
 ing them back and forth.) 
 
 Young W. 1 am under your earthly power 
 since the kiss, and you are Irish. 
 
 Pol, RiL Ah, I can't deny the soft impeach- 
 ment. And it was a brave jig, too, miss. (Kisses 
 her again) So much for the jig. Now, my 
 bundle of sweetness, are you acquainted with 
 those urns? 
 
 Young W. Perfectly. I see the one con- 
 taining yonr soul. 
 
 Pol, RiL Well, would you kindly place this 
 bottle (taking bottle out of pocket) in its place and 
 bring the urn to me? 
 
 Young W, Why don*t you do it yourself? 
 Tm not allowed to climb about and place my- 
 self above these others (pointing to group of con- 
 spirators) by virtue of my exalted rank. 
 
 Pol, RiL But, are you not under my con- 
 trol? (Kisses her.) 
 
 Young W, I am. 
 
 Pol, RiL Well, then, you can do it so much 
 quieter than I can, and they don't want to be 
 disturbed. But first — (Takes a pull at bottle, looks 
 surprised, takes another pull, shakes it astonished, then 
 frightened) Why! it's empty. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 151 
 
 Young W. Well, what's the difference. 
 
 PoL RiL Oh, my little dickie bird! (Air hurt- 
 les— vitch shrinks.) You do not know what 
 
 Young W, I know all. Do not use slang, 
 you make the air sulphurous. He'll never 
 know the difference when he comes to drink; 
 he'll think it's full and go to sleep. 
 
 PoL RiL Sure, you must be all mental sci- 
 entists. 
 
 Young W, Certainly, we are. 
 
 PoL RiL What's the matter with all those 
 bottles that the Griffin 
 
 Grif. That's me! (Coming forward.) 
 
 Young W. Go back to your conspiracy, 
 Grif., I'm not through amusing him yet. 
 
 Grif, All right. Ask him when he's to get 
 that botde. 
 
 Young W, (To Policeman Riley) Don't say 
 
 names, it brings people, in the Moon. 
 
 PoL RiL (Trembling) I see it does. Well, 
 how about these botdes? Why did he drive 
 such a hard bargain with me? 
 
 Young W. Oh, they are empty, too, but he 
 knows they are empty. That's the difference. 
 
 PoL RiL So that's the difference. Well, 
 then I thought 
 
 Young W, Oh, yes, you thought we could 
 see through everything. Well that's too deep 
 
 for you, we'll drop it. (She takes bottle, goei to 
 
152 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 side of Grotto, climbs up, takes down an urn, puts up 
 bottle. Brings urn and tosses it to Policeman.) Here's 
 
 your soul! What else do you want of me? 
 
 PoL Ril, (Buttoning urn inside of coat) And the 
 Griffin! (Gazing anxiously at Griffin who is blinking 
 at them.) 
 
 Young W, Oh, never mind the Griffin. We 
 never see things we are not supposed to see. 
 He does not see you. Besides, is not that the 
 bargain? 
 
 Pol. Ril Well> now, my little Hustler (Air 
 starts to hurtie-and stops) What's the matter? 
 
 Young W, The air does not know whether 
 that is slang or not. 
 
 PoL Ril. Ah! (Kisses her) The next thing 
 is to take me to the Queen that I may get her 
 permission to serve this warrant (Searches in 
 pocket-his hair rises) What! The thing that has 
 brought me into all these perils gone— gone- 
 gone 
 
 Young W. Do not make such a fuss. The 
 warrant has, by this time, served itself. 
 
 Pol. Ril. Is that natural here? 
 
 Young W. Everything is natural that is most 
 unexpected. 
 
 PoL Ril. Then you should be the Queen. 
 
 Young W. Certainly, I am. Could you not 
 tell that by the way they treat me? 
 
 PoL Ril. What job— (Comes closer to her)- 
 What job are you laying for? 1 should like 
 
IN YE QLDE CQLONIE 153 
 
 to help you get it before I go, my little bun- 
 dle of bric-a-brac. (Air hurtles feebly two or three 
 times. Aside) I See there is some doubt as to 
 whether that is slang. 
 
 Young W. Nemesis has promised me to be 
 the next babe-in-arms. They are the only ones 
 truly without any ambition or worry. 
 
 Pol RiL Well, Queenie, when the Witch 
 of Endor was served, what did she say? 
 
 Young W, Oh, we people of the Lunar Orb 
 never repeat hearsay. You must ask her your- 
 self. 
 
 Pol, RiL But where is she? 
 
 \oung W. I see her now walking down the 
 glen. She is taking Policeman O'Brien back 
 to the spot where Princess Blossom and I 
 found him. 
 
 Pol. RiL But how about Blossom? 
 
 Young W, Oh, Blossom is undergoing trans- 
 formation now — her fancies are all changed. 
 
 (Princess Blossom disappears in a haze.) 
 
 Grif. (Beginning to transform, with his tail half 
 off, suddenly remembers, and begins to climb up to 
 bottle) Oh, I cannot leave this form in which 
 I have had so much fun, without a last visit 
 to the bottle. Besides, transformation is so 
 much more respectable when one is asleep. 
 (Pauses to grin and rub his stomach.) 
 
 Pol. RiL (Paling and growing sick.) Take me 
 
 to the Witch of Endor at once. 
 
154 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Young W. At once, if you release me from 
 your power. 
 Pol. RiL Yes, yes, make haste. 
 
 Grif. (Trying bottle, still rubbing stomach. Looks 
 down into bottle-roars) My SOul! It is empty! 
 (Tail drops) And no Opportunity for revenge, 
 for (He stands on shelf in full costume of king) I 
 am The Miserable Tyrant! (Air hurtles during 
 speech continually. 
 
 (Curtain.) 
 {End of Scene 5, Act III,) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 155 
 
 ACT III, SCENE 6 
 
 Place: Witches' Glen near the spot of Scene 3., Act I. 
 
 Witch of Endor in the rear right, standing by O'Brien's 
 inanimate form. Queen of Witches coming down 
 front, leading Policeman Riley. Witches grouped 
 in background. 
 
 Queen. Sit down— yes, cross-legged, if you 
 wish. The Witch of Endor will be here at once. 
 
 Witch of E. Here is your subpoena, Riley. 
 Call me three times, and I will come. 
 
 PoL RiL Thank you, ma'am. It is not often 
 a subpoena is taken that lady-like. Now if it 
 please you, ladies, as my work is all done satis- 
 factorily, and Tm rather fatigued with so much 
 change of scene and company, not but what 
 it was all most edifying, and I treated most 
 kindly. Til just take a nap. Kindly someone 
 tell me what is the date and hour, so that I 
 shall not be late for court. 
 
 Witch of E, It is Friday, June 29th., sixteen 
 hundred and ninety-two, five o'clock in the 
 morning. 
 
 Pol. RiL Oh, very well! Court does not 
 convene till ten o'clock, so I shall have an hour 
 to get there and four good hours for sleep. 
 The top of the morning to you, ladies, and 
 
 good night. (Composes himself to sleep.) 
 
 Queen. (Tickles his ear) But you have not re- 
 leased me yet. 
 
156 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Pol. RiL (Growing Irish as grows sleepier) Arrah, 
 schstop that, mavourneen. True for ye, an' it's 
 a leddy you've been to me, too. Phat shall I do? 
 
 Queen. I do not know, Nemesis must de- 
 cide. She'll be here now. 
 
 Nemesis, (Enter L.) What is willed of me? 
 
 Pol. RiL (Trying to rouse himself) Good day, 
 
 ma'am, how's your health's health? It's but 
 wishin' to rel'ase this kind leddy, your queen, 
 from me fascinations, that I want to know phat 
 I'm to do. 
 
 Nem. She must return the charm as you 
 Rave it. 
 
 Pol. Ril, (Growing finicky, now that he is back 
 near Salem, and these be witches.) Och, is there 
 no other way? 
 
 Queen. No other and you have promised. 
 
 Pol. Ril. But wont it lave me in your power 
 —no disrespect to ye, ma'am: but I loike to 
 be my ownd man. 
 
 Nem. She will be transformed in a few 
 minutes, and then all the powers she has in 
 this form vanish. 
 
 Pol. Ril. All right. But it's not me that 
 knows how many charms — if those be yer name 
 for kisses, and a right good name, too, — I em- 
 pl'yed (Aside) Shure, I wuddent ha' been so 
 free, 'fl'd known I'd had to recave thim all back. 
 
 Queen. (Eagerly) I know. I counted them. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 157 
 
 The charm was so new and beautiful! 
 
 Pol, Ril, (Surprised) Now, sure! an' if ye 
 aint the thousandth gurril Tve kissed, Vm a 
 liar, an' there's no varchue in a well-worn 
 kiss. 
 
 Queen, Besides, I knew I'd have to give 
 them back. 
 
 Pol, Ril, Ye did! An' ye've jist tould me 
 ye didn't know nothing about it at all, bad cess 
 to ye, little witch. Come on, theni (Opens his 
 arms to Queen.) 
 
 Queen, (Kisses him) One — two — three — 
 
 four. (Just where he had kissed her.) I'm free! 
 
 (Air hurtles. Trumpets sound. Big wind rises. 
 Policeman Riley, while looking on drowsily, falls over 
 asleep. Witches all disappear, blowing away, all di- 
 rections.) 
 
 (Curtain) 
 
 {End of Act III and of Scene 6) 
 
158 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Place: Special Session of the Trial Court of Oyer and 
 Terminer, sitting in Salem Courthouse, last week 
 in June, 1692. 
 
 On the Bench, R., Deputy Governor, William Stough- 
 ton. Presiding Judge; Associate Judges, Corwin and 
 Hathorne, of Salem, Sewall and Hustle, of Boston. 
 Ministers, the Rev. Cotton Mather, and Rev. Sam- 
 uel Parris, sitting with them. 
 
 Mercy Lewis and Mrs. Pope, among witnesses. 
 Spectators. 
 
 Court Crier, Oyez, oyez, oyez, this the 
 Special Session of the Trial Court of Oyer and 
 Terminer of the County of Essex is now open 
 for the transaction of business. 
 
 Clerk Cheever, The trial of Susannah Mar- 
 tin, of this village, for the nefarous and capital 
 crime of witchcraft, according to the true Bill 
 of the Right Worshipful Grand Jury, brought 
 on the 2nd. day of May, One Thousand Six 
 Hundred and Ninety-two. May it please Your 
 Honors, here is a petition whilk this woman 
 her friends have brought to present to Your 
 Honorable Court. 
 
 Judg, Sto, Doth she, then, hold that this 
 Honorable Court can be influenced unto her 
 aid if there is found evil in her? 
 
 Judg. Hus. May it please my Honored 
 Colleagues, to have the woman her petition 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 159 
 
 read? Somewhat curious attracts me in all 
 these petitions. 
 
 Judg. Sto. Read the petition for my Hon- 
 ored Colleague. 
 
 Clerk Cheev. (Clearing throat) **Ye humble 
 Petition of Susannah Martin unto His Excel- 
 lency, Sir William Phipps, and to ye Honored 
 Judge and Bench now sitting in Judicature in 
 Salem, and ye Reverend Ministers humbly 
 showeth:— " 
 
 Atty, Gen. Check, Is not that enough for 
 His Honor? 
 
 Judg. Has. But he hath read but the Pre- 
 amble, Sir. (Consultation of Judges.) 
 
 Judg. Sto. We will dispense with the read- 
 ing of the Petition. It is denied. Let the 
 
 prisoner be brought in. (Great clanking of chains. 
 Enter L. H. Sus. Martin, head erect, heavily chained, 
 and led by chain to dock. Walki lamely. She is ac- 
 companied by the Sheriff.) 
 
 Judg. Sto. Prisoner at the bar, you are 
 accused of practicing the fell practices of witch- 
 craft. How do you plead: Guihy or Not Guilty? 
 
 Sus. Mar, (Feebly) Not Guihy, (in moving, 
 strikes chains against railing. 
 
 Mercy Lew, (Pointing) She hath struck Mrs. 
 Pope with her chains. 
 
 Mrs, Pope, (Screeching) Ow— OW — OWl The 
 
 witch hath struck me with her chains. 
 
 Sus. Mar. (Pretsing her fingers into her eyes) 
 Oh, Lord! 
 
160 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Mercy Lew, Oh, oh, she is putting my eyes 
 
 out. (Mercy and Mrs. Pope fall in fits.) 
 
 Judg, Hus. I pray my Honorable Colleagues 
 to have this child and this woman presently 
 out of Court, as they did make so much com- 
 motion in the Grand Jury hearing as did much 
 work against the calm and clear hearing of the 
 evidence. If I mistake not, there is a pig and 
 a cow to come into evidence, the whilk will 
 try my Honorable Colleagues their patience 
 enough and to spare. 
 
 (Mercy recovers from her fit and listens. So does 
 Mrs. Pope.) 
 
 Atty, Gen, Check. But the evidence of the 
 child, her suffering, is very powerful. 
 
 Judg, Hus. But ye have had it all afore. 
 Honored Sir. (Pulling his ear, impatiently) I have 
 
 a weakly ear whilk the doctor saith must not 
 be afflicted with unseemly or loud noises. 
 
 Judg. Sto. Our Honored Colleague must 
 not be made to suffer. These scenes do go to 
 the heart sufficient. Remove the child and the 
 woman. 
 
 Atty. Gen. Check. They are silent now, Your 
 Honor, I pray you, let them remain as evi- 
 dence for the commonwealth. 
 
 Judg. Hus. Yet no man knoweth when they 
 
 will break out again. (Biting his fingers.) 
 
 Mercy L. Hustle— Hustle — he chews my 
 
 fingers — Oh! Oh! (Gets dumb and glaring.) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 161 
 
 Mrs. Pope. The witch is kicking me. 
 
 Sheriff. (To prisoner) Hold your foot still. 
 
 Cot. Math. (Portentously) The child crieth 
 out upon the Bench. 
 
 Judg. Sto. (Sternly) The child hath made a 
 grievous error. Have her out. Take the wo- 
 man also. (Judge Hustle laughs silently. Cotton 
 Mather observes and shakes head at him reprovingly.) 
 
 Judg. Sto. The Clerk may now read the 
 depositions taken before the Grand Jury. 
 
 Clerk Cheev. So please you, Worshipful 
 Sir, there were no depositions taken save some 
 small evidence by Goodman Crossby and Dame 
 Pope, who hath been removed. The victims 
 of the witch did so much agnize. (Reads, as 
 
 follows, from Grand Jury hearing, mumbling much of 
 it. Shaking up leaves of writing.) "The most that 
 
 was taken was out of order, the speaker being 
 not on the question, but speaking out in court, 
 unasked. Susannah Martin, being sworn, did 
 depose and swear: questioned by His Wor- 
 ship, Judge Hathorne. Um — um — um — (Mum- 
 
 bles unintelligibly for several minutes.)" There was 
 
 then so much commotion by the cow and the 
 pig and all of those gathered there, that no 
 further account could be taken. 
 
 Judg. Sto. Is that, then, all? 
 
 Atty. Gen. Check. Here are many large 
 gaps in the record, Your Honor, when the 
 
162 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 children and the woman and the pig and the 
 cow did take grievous fits, much to the dis- 
 turbance and loss of time of the court. 
 
 Rev. S, Harris. There are other witnesses, 
 Your Worship. Ten, to prove the woman her 
 evil work upon their bodies. But His Honor, 
 Judge Hustle, did think it wise to cut them out. 
 
 Judg. Hus. And ten to prove the woman 
 her good character: competent testimony which 
 I did also obtain to be cut out. 
 
 Cot. Math. Methinks thou art over-stren- 
 uous, Honored Sir, in dicountenancing the tes- 
 timony of true professors against this rampant 
 witch. Hast forgotten the Holy injunction — 
 **Thou Shalt not suffer a Witch to live"? 
 
 Rev. S. Harris. Remember, you have been 
 
 cried out upon. (Judge Hustle laughs.) 
 
 Atty. Gen. Check. I have here. Worship- 
 ful Sirs, a deposition from the prisoner, her 
 neighbor and son-in-law, Goodman Parker, 
 showing that she doth dance o* nights on his 
 backyard fence in form of a black cat, and 
 keepeth him and his wife awake. 
 
 Judg. Hus. I like not this spectral testi- 
 mony of unseen acts and unproven transform- 
 ations: it is not to be relied upon wholly to 
 condemn a witch. And if the evidence against 
 her character for holiness be admitted, then 
 the evidence for her holiness and good char- 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 163 
 
 acter is also competent. Moreover, Honored 
 Colleagues, it befits us to remember all, that 
 the Judge, in his righteousness, is the only 
 counsel whilk the prisoner hath. 
 
 Judg, Sto, (Reluctantly) That fs the English 
 Precedent and Law. My Honored Colleague 
 did all that could be expected when he ruled 
 out all the witnesses pro and con. The whilk 
 leaveth but the spectral testimony. (Judges con- 
 sult with the attorney general. Judge Hustle shakes 
 his head, talks earnestly. They come to a conclusion.) 
 
 Judg, Sto, The spectral testimony shall be 
 
 admitted. (Spectators show great satisfaction.) And 
 
 the evidence of the Witch of Endor shall be 
 
 admitted competent contra, (Smiling triumphantly) 
 
 if she can be found. Hath any served a sub- 
 poena on the hag? (Spectators show great con- 
 sternation.) 
 
 Atty, Gen. Check. (Loudly) I object— I ob- 
 ject 
 
 Cot. Math. (Rising) I protest against this 
 Honored Court 
 
 Rev. S. Harris. So do I. (Rising.) 
 
 Judg. Sto. Nay, remain. Reverend Min- 
 isters, and see this case out. It groweth in 
 importance and this admission of a witch's tes- 
 timony to support a sister, is without prece- 
 dent and may be set aside. We do but admit 
 it that our Honored Colleague admit the spec- 
 
164 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 tral evidence according to public opinion. And 
 it can not be denied that the witch will be ex- 
 pert much more than Doctor Griggs to say 
 whether one be bewitched. 
 
 Jus, Hath, It seemeth not possible to be- 
 lieve in the word of a witch. 
 
 Judg, Hus, (Seriously) Yet there is a certain 
 charm whilk compelleth the witch to speak the 
 truth. May it please my Honored Colleagues, 
 I think I can procure this charm. 
 
 Judg. Sto. It were better to procure the 
 
 witch first. 
 
 (Spectators laugh and shrug shoulders. Some dis- 
 agree and nod.) 
 
 Sher, The constable was sent to serve the 
 subpoena, Your Honor. 
 
 Judg, Sto, When was he sent? 
 
 Sher, It is two months ago almost, sir, he 
 did go to the Witches' Glen, and nothing more 
 hath been heard from him since. 
 
 Clerk Cheev, Here is an honest freeman 
 from Andover, so please Your Honors, who 
 hath news of the constable. He is a policeman. 
 
 (Policeman O'Brien led in by deputy.) 
 
 Judg, Sto, Have you information concern- 
 ing the officer of the law sent hence two months 
 ago to serve a subpoena upon the Witch of 
 Endor? 
 
 Pol. O^B, (Looks much broken up as if just 
 
 off a long spree.) I have, Most Worshipful Sirs. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 165 
 
 It is two days since I went to fish in the brook 
 which runs through the Witches' Glen. 
 
 Spectators. He went to fish! 
 
 Judg. Hus. (Gravely) Is this a fish story? 
 
 Pol. O'B. Nay, I cry your patience, Hon- 
 ored Sirs, sure it is not a fish story. There 
 are no fish in it at all, at all, or by the same 
 token, I should not look so. My dame was 
 
 disappointed (Pointing to his disarranged apparel, 
 and every evidence of rough usage.) I had not been 
 
 in the Glen morc'n the moity of a second, 
 whin two women, the loike of two witches, 
 did come and invite me furder up the Glen 
 where the fishin* was loike to be better. And 
 I, bein* afeared, did let them lead me. Prisi- 
 intly I did mate Constable Riley, of Salem, a 
 frind of mine, comin' towards us, lookin* that 
 well in his new uniform. 
 
 Atty. Gen. Check. (Severely) A constable 
 weareth no uniform. 
 
 Judg. Has. I pray you, do not interrupt. 
 The constable was made a policeman, and did 
 wear his uniform when he went to serve the 
 subpoena. Proceed, my good man. 
 
 Pol, O'B. He did welcome me, and did 
 take the arrum av me, and sure I warned him 
 most serously that thim that were wid me were 
 witches, and beg him for to arrist thim. And 
 he, bein* most courageous—loike, and bould. 
 
166 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 did turn for to do so, whin one av the women 
 did sthrike him and he did disappear on the 
 spot in a little smoke wid a great scrame; and 
 I fell down and knew no more until I woke 
 this mornin' on the spot where the witches had 
 kilt the constable and taken me sinsis. 
 (Spectators express horror.) 
 
 Atty, Gen. Check. (Eagerly) What is there 
 to show of officer Riley*s taking off? 
 
 Pol. O'B. Indade, sir, the ground was all 
 black around and schmelt av brimstone. 
 
 Atty. Gen. Check. But there was nothing 
 that was his? 
 
 Pol. O'B. No other thing but this book I 
 did find, sir. I know not to whom it*s belongin'. 
 
 Judg. Has. (Aside) Were it not for this book, 
 I should think the man had been on a tear. 
 (Aloud) It is the book Judge Hathorne gave 
 Policeman Riley when he went. It is a book 
 of charms. Was there no bottle there? 
 
 Pol. O^B. (Looks scared, feels in pocket, seems 
 
 relieved) Bottle? No, he left no bottle. 
 
 Atty. Gen. Check. Is not this most con- 
 clusive evidence, Honored Sirs, that Riley hath 
 been made away v/ith by this hag her friends. 
 Here we have the testimony of a freeman, a 
 professor, a guardian of the peace of Andover. 
 
 (Loudly, standing with arms folded, in oratorical atti- 
 tude.) Do but gaze upon him, sirs all: is not 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 167 
 
 his word worthy of all credence? (impressive 
 silence. Whispers on part of spectators.) 
 
 Judg. Has, He hath a bottle in his pocket, 
 but I make no doubt it is empty now. 
 
 Atty. Gen. Check, Your Honors, is my 
 crowning witness to be discredited? This is 
 direct and most corporeal evidence, 1 submit. 
 
 Cot. Math. How knew ye the women with 
 ye were witches? 
 
 Pol. O'B. They pinched and pulled me, and 
 they bade me to their feast. And each had a 
 yellow bird sitting on her shoulder whilk did 
 whisper in her mouth. 
 
 Rev. S. Harris. Most conclusive. 
 
 Judg. Sw. It seemeth this evidence is very 
 fair. The good man*s condition is doubdess 
 due to the said witches 
 
 Judg. Hus. And an angry dame who know- 
 eth him better than we do. 
 
 Judg. Sto. You can sum up, Mr. Checkley. 
 
 (Attorney General Checkly clears throat loudly, all 
 settle down to listen. Great commotion outside. Peo- 
 ple make way for Riley, who enters, leading, L. H., by 
 the ear Willy Boundboy, who carries a bundle. Dr. 
 Jacobs brings up rear, walking on his two staves.) 
 
 Judg. Hus. One moment, Mr. Checkley, 
 be not so intrepid. Well, Riley, have you served 
 the subpoena? Where is the witch? 
 
 Pol. Ril. (With an important air) I have sarved 
 the subpoena, Your Honors all, and the witch 
 
168 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 saith she'll be forninst ye the moment ye are 
 wantin' her. (Spectators shudder) I have here wid 
 me some new tistimony, Your Honors, whilk I 
 tuk the liberty to bring along wid me. Here's 
 Dr. Jacobs, who knows a power, and yit the 
 witches say he is not of thim; he did the con- 
 jurin* for me and got me harmless inty the 
 Land o' Witchcraft and back again. He knows 
 bewitched things. 
 
 Judg, Sto, Is he a wizard? 
 
 Spectators. Yes, yes, a wizard. 
 
 Dr, Jac, (Scornfully to spectators) You might 
 as well call me a buzzard! (To Bench) The cow. 
 Your Honor, is not bewitched. Til prove it. 
 Bring her in. 
 
 Atty, Gen, Check. (To Deputy) Bring in Ex- 
 hibit No. 1. (Cow led in in very meek condition, 
 wearing card lettered Exhibit No. 1 and chewing cud.) 
 
 Dr. Jac. (To Sheriff) Hath she been fed and 
 watered this morn? 
 
 Sher. Yes, and milched. She is a good milch 
 cow. 
 
 Judg. Has. What did you do with the milch? 
 
 Sher, We used it, sir. She had been 
 charmed, and, I think, cured by Dr. Jacobs 
 here. 
 
 Judg. Hus. Goodman Jacobs, what charms 
 have you used on Exhibit No. 1 here? 
 
 Dr. Jac. The charm of kind treatment, a 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 169 
 
 good bed, plenty of water and food. She hath 
 been milched regular and hath had the cockle 
 burs removed from her ears. 
 
 Judg, Has. Is that all? 
 
 Dr. Jac, That is all, sir. 
 
 Cot Math, How knew you there were cockle 
 burs in her ears? Remember, good man, there 
 are whispers concerning you. 
 
 Dr, Jac, (Turning to Judge Hustle) My lad here, 
 who gathers simples for the herb market, sir, 
 is most mischievous beyond any belief. He 
 did tell me so. 
 
 Judg, Sto, Come here, lad. Did you put 
 cockle burs into Exhibit No. 1 her ears? 
 
 Willy B. (Bewildered) Exhibit No. 1? Oh, 
 the cow? Please you, yea. The devil did make 
 me think to laugh to see the cow so stamp and 
 bellow. I did try it on my master his cow and 
 tell him she was bewitched, and he did trounce 
 me and tell me there was no such thing as be- 
 witching. (Spectators much excited and whispering. 
 Boy is delighted at sensation.) I did tell him about 
 
 these burs and we did get them out. (Cow con- 
 tinues to chew cud and looks about mildly.) 
 
 Judg, Sto, Remove Exhibit No. 1, it is 
 plain she is not now bewitched. (Cow led past 
 
 prisoner, stops and rubs her nose on Sus. Martin's 
 arm. Prisoner weeps. Some of spectators begin to 
 pity her.) 
 
17 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Judg. Sto, If then, it was not Exhibit No. 1 
 her milch that affected the babe, what was it? 
 And where is the babe? And who was it that 
 afflicted the child, Ann Putnam? 
 
 Judg. Hus, My Honored Colleague will 
 hear better of this child, if she be led in now. 
 
 Judg. Sto. Bring in the child Ann Putnam. 
 
 (Ann Putnam led in Re. by Sheriff. Judge Hustle 
 takes her hand.) 
 
 Judg. Hus. Now, little maid, tell unto this 
 Honorable Court what you did tell unto me 
 and my dame last night. 
 
 Ann P, (Hanging her head) I did say that 
 
 Dame Martin did never do me harm, but I of 
 my own self did scream and fall down for sport 
 to see the people wonder. And I did never 
 see the real black dog; and never did see Dame 
 Martin her spirit go over to Mrs. Pope to strike 
 her. I think Mrs. Pope was sporting as I was. 
 (Sobs.) 
 
 Judg. Sto. Who told you to cry out on 
 Dame Martin? 
 
 Ann P. No one did tell me, but I did hear 
 my father say, and my mother said she was too 
 neat to be good, the witches must help her; 
 and my father said she would one day be cried 
 out upon, and I thought it would please him. 
 
 Judg. Sto. What led you, child, to cry out 
 upon Judge Hustle here? 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 171 
 
 Ann p. Because he did not believe. I did 
 not know he was a good man then. 
 
 Cot, Math, (Suspiciously) What did Judge 
 Hustle do to make you confess, Ann Putnam? 
 
 Ann, P, 'His dame did pray with me all 
 night, and the devil whilk telled me to do those 
 things is out. (Weeps.) 
 
 Judg, Sto, There remains Exhibit No. 2. 
 
 Bring it in. (Deputy's son enters, crying.) 
 
 Dep's, Son, Father, I cannot bring the pig. 
 Goodman Boss hath ta'en it from me. He saith 
 it is his, and neighbor Crossby hath it wrong- 
 fully. 
 
 (Enter Goodman Boss, carrying pig, with card, Ex- 
 hibit No. 2, hanging from its neck.) 
 
 Goodman B, The shote is mine, so please 
 Your Honors. It is like other pigs and not 
 bewitched at all. 
 
 Atty, Gen. Check, He is in contempt of 
 court, Your Honors. 
 
 Dame Cross. Oh, my little Hezekiah. (Strug- 
 gles for pig.) 
 
 Judg. Sto, Silence in the Court. Goodman 
 Boss and Dame Crossby, you are under arrest. 
 
 Judg, Hus, Goodman Jacobs, have you 
 exercised your charms upon Exhibit No. 2? 
 
 Dr. Jac, Nay, Your Honor, it is not neces- 
 sary, for the pig hath nothing wrong at all. Nor 
 had the babe, but that it was sore neglected. 
 
172 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 But now, it is whole and well. (Takes bundle 
 from Willy Boundboy.) 
 
 Dame Cross, (Letting go of pig) Where is my 
 Hezekiah, my little Hezekiah? I want my babe. 
 
 Goodman Cross, (Threateningly to Dr. Jac.) 
 
 Give us our babe, old wizard. 
 
 Dr, Jac, One moment, grateful neighbors. 
 I pray you, Most Worshipful Sirs, that you 
 make this good wife promise not to go gadding, 
 leaving her babe in a cradle in the yard; and 
 not to neglect it until even a mischievous lad 
 can see it is dying, before she can have her babe. 
 
 Judg, Sto, It is but right, if you do these 
 things, woman. They are not meet for a mother. 
 
 Goodman Cross, (Shaking his wife) Will you 
 neglect our babe, so that the very neighbors 
 
 complain? Will you? (Slaps her loudly.) 
 
 Judg. Sto, Promise your good man you 
 will do better. 
 
 Goodman Cross, Promise the Worshipful 
 Judges, daughter of a witch, promise, promise! 
 (Thumping her loudly.) 
 
 Dame Cross, (Weeping copiously) I premise. 
 Now, can I have my Hezekiah? 
 
 Dr, Jac, (Undoes bundle, and holds up babe, 
 which crows.) See that you keep your promise, 
 else it will not be a mischievous lad who will 
 make way with your babe the next time. 
 
 (Dame Crossby springs forward and seizes babe. 
 Jumps up and down screaming.) 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 173 
 
 Dame Cross. He is cured. He is well. He 
 is fat. 
 
 Goodman Cross. Take care. The wizard 
 had him. 
 
 Dame Cross. Oh, I don't care who had him. 
 He is my babe Hezekiah. (Pig squeals) Oh, take 
 that dirty pig away. It makes me sick. 
 
 Judg. Sto. Goodman, you are an herb 
 doctor, are you not? 
 
 Dr. Jac. Yea, Honored Judge, I try to do 
 all the good I can in the world, therefore am 
 I maligned, and my grateful neighbors would 
 even hang me. 
 
 Judg. Hus. How accomplished you these 
 marvels, doctor? 
 
 Dr. Jac. They are no marvels. Honored 
 Judge, as you have seen with the cow and the 
 pig. This lad shall tell the tale of the babe. 
 Sirrah, tell these Worshipful Sirs all your mis- 
 chief. 
 
 Willy B. (Striking attitude, and looking pleased) 
 When I would go to tease the cow whilk was 
 mostly left of nights on the common near Good- 
 man Crossby his house, I would often see the 
 babe Hezekiah lying all alone in his cradle by 
 the doorstep. (Goodman Crossby thumps his wife 
 angrily. Lad looks pleased) I did first pick bugS 
 
 and flies off him, and then the thought came 
 to try some of the simples whilk I did pick 
 
174 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 for my master on the babe. The babe was al- 
 ways hungry for that his mother was always a 
 gadabout (Goodman Crossby thumps his wife again) 
 
 and, if I put plenty of sugar in the medicine, 
 he would take it. When he got very sick and 
 thin I was sore afraid, and one day I did take 
 him out and take off his clothes, and did put 
 them on Goodman Boss one of his little pigs, 
 and put it in the cradle. Then I brought the 
 babe to my master, knowing he could cure it. 
 I told him I found it naked on the common. 
 He did not believe me, but the babe was so 
 sick he said he would cure it. I fed the babe 
 milch from our cow every day. 
 
 Cot, Math. How did your master cure the 
 babe? 
 
 Willy B. With herbs I did pick. 
 
 Judg, Sto, Did he use any charms? 
 
 Willy B. No sir. 
 
 Cot. Math, (Unwillingly) It seems conclusive. 
 Yet meseems the devil was in the lad. 
 
 (Spectators nod and look threateningly at Willy B.) 
 Atty, Gen. Check. (With a sigh and shake of 
 
 the head.) Most Worshipful Honors, I with- 
 draw the charge. It is not proven. 
 
 Pol. Ril. One moment. Your Honors, do 
 ye want that the Witch of Indor shall tistify? 
 
 Spectators. (Shuddering) No. No. 
 
 Judg. Sto. It is unnecessary. The charge 
 hath been disproven without. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 175 
 
 Judg. Hus. And we have had enough of 
 witches and witchcraft. 
 
 Cot. Math, May it please the court, were it 
 not well to inquire into the lad's condition? 
 
 Spectators, He is bewitched! — he hath a 
 devil! — he is a wizard! 
 
 Dr. Jac. (Wraps his cloak about Willy Boundboy) 
 
 For shame! Hath to be young, then, gone out 
 of fashion? 
 
 Judg. Sto. The case is dismissed. Prisoner, 
 you are discharged. 
 
 (Sheriff starts to strike off Susannah Martin's chains. 
 Spectators go out muttering. Judge Hustle, Sheriff 
 Corwin and wife, and Justice Corwin, remain, grouping 
 around Susannah Martin.) 
 
 Judg. Hus. I like not the spirit of our gen- 
 tle citizen spectators. 
 
 Jus. Cor. (Thoughtfully) They are not satisfied. 
 Cotton Mather is little pleased with the event. 
 
 Judg. Hus. They are like Caesar's mob. 
 Grant they have not a witch-baiter in the lead. 
 
 (Enters Dr. Jacobs, panting) What think you tO 
 do, Dame Martin? 
 
 Sus. Mar. I plan to return to my quiet home. 
 
 Dr. Jac. Quiet no longer, good neighbor. 
 Caesar's mob hath there an Anthony and the 
 front stoop is his forum. 
 
 Dame Cor. Good Dame Martin, come to 
 our humble home. They shall kill'thc boy you 
 saved, ere they get you; and they must kill his 
 
176 EC HOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 mother, ere they get him. What say you, 
 George Corwin? 
 
 Jus. Cor. It is meet a wife do as she knows 
 her husband wish. Thy husband is an officer 
 of the court. 
 
 Sheriff Cor. (Sulkily) I needs must say as 
 you do, dame. 
 
 Willy B. (Enters breathlessly) Maister, maister, 
 they're after the witch, and you, too. Oh, hide, 
 maister, they will kill you. (Loud noises without. 
 Dame Corwin goes to window and looks out.) 
 
 Dame Cor. May the Almighty Providence 
 that guided the Mayflower thro* storm and 
 wrack across the pathless seas, protect his own, 
 
 (Moans and wrings her hands. Turning passionately 
 to her husband) George Corwin, hide the savior 
 of your son, or you stand to lose a wife. 
 
 Sheriff Cor. (Sulkily) Where dame? Can I 
 fly in the face of Providence? 
 
 Jus. Cor. I will go out and see how the 
 
 land stands. (Exit hastily.) 
 
 Judg. Hus. Providence hath little enough to 
 do with it, good sheriff. Do as your dame 
 urges. Nay I know a better plan. Hold the 
 door and I and this patriarch will get Susan- 
 nah Martin away. My carriage waits at foot 
 of the hill and I will have her thither and we 
 will off to Boston within the hour. 
 
 Dame Cor. Hasten, whatever you will do, 
 hasten. They arc here. 
 
IN YE OLDE COLONIE 177 
 
 Willy B. Oh, Maister, get under the table, 
 or back in the fireplace, or up the chimney. 
 They say they will burn you. 
 
 Judg, Hus. Come, George Jacobs, there is 
 room for you in the carriage and asylum in 
 Boston. 
 
 Dr, Jac, Nay, I am old. They cannot de- 
 prive me of much time, and there is sore need 
 of me here in this place devoted to the devil's 
 wiles. 
 
 Sus, Mar, Farewell, George Jacobs, may 
 the Lord protect, and Salem hold thee dear. 
 Farewell, O Salem, may the light break o'er 
 thee before thy sins become unpardonable. 
 
 (Exeunt Judge Hustle and Susannah Martin by side 
 door leading to back of house. There is pounding on 
 the door. Willy Boundboy dances in grief. Dame 
 Corwin weeps. Sheriff places his staff across the door 
 till sound of galloping is heard in distance. Then he 
 removes staff and door is burst open by crowd, Con- 
 stable O'Brien and Goodman Boss in the lead.) 
 
 O'Brien. Where is the witch? We want 
 the witch. 
 
 Goodman Boss, The hangman wants her. 
 
 Crowd, Where is the witch? We want the 
 witch. Burn the witch. Hang the witch. 
 
 Sheriff Cor, She's gone, neighbors. 
 
 Willy B, She's gone home, neighbors. I'll 
 show you. Come ahead. 
 
 Goodman Boss, You Imp of Satan, you slave 
 
178 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 to a wizard, we'll have none of your showing. 
 But here's your master. A wizard's as good 
 as a witch. 
 
 Cot. Math, (Coming up blowing and assuming 
 
 an air of authority) Nay, this man is a follower 
 of Aesculapius and proper healer of the sick. 
 Many times have I met him at the bedside of 
 the sick and dying. There can be no evil in 
 him, he did nurse one of my wives. Let him 
 alone you crook-eyed, stiff-necked, and ungrate- 
 ful people, are there not witches enough in 
 Salem for your greed? Sheriff, do your duty, 
 protect that man and see him safely to his home. 
 
 Sheriff Cor, To protect wizards is not my 
 duty, reverend sir, but to arrest them. Who 
 commands me? 
 
 Cot, Math, I, Cotton Mather, by virtue of 
 my authority as spiritual leader in the colony 
 of Massachusetts. 
 
 Sheriff Cor, Well-a-day, first it is my 
 dame, now it is my minister who rules me. 
 Who would be a righteous man and good hus- 
 band! Keep off, there, you. (To crowd, extending 
 staff of office across Dr. Jacobs. Crowd mutters and 
 falls back in groups.) 
 
 (Curtain.) 
 
 (FINIS.) 
 
DIVES AND LAZARUS 
 
 A DRAMATIC POEM OF THE PROLETARIAT 
 
DIVES AND LAZARUS 
 
 Scene: An April morning, very sunny, though it has 
 been showering slightly. In the foreground, a fine, 
 broad thoroughfare with asphalt street and parked 
 and flagged sidewalks. The middle distance is oc- 
 cupied by a great mansion, like an Italian villa, with 
 a piazza on one side, and on the other a porte co- 
 cherfy from which a graveled drive 'sweeps down 
 across the extensive green lawn gently sloping to a 
 fence of iron pickets mounted on a low stone par- 
 apet; while smoky blue hills and a soft blue and 
 white sky make the background. It is about 8 A.M. 
 A young gentleman, tall, well-made and handsome 
 of face, steps from a French window onto the piazza, 
 descends the steps and slowly approaches over the 
 lawn. He is clad in loose house attire, lounging 
 jacket and slippers. He pauses on the middle of 
 the slope, with face and open, outstretched hands, 
 upturned. 
 
 Down outside of the fence, sitting on the narrow ledge 
 of the parapet, and clinging to the pickets with soiled, 
 thin, but knotted hands, is another young man, gaunt 
 of face, unsymmetrical of figure, and poorly dressed. 
 He watches the other who does not see him. 
 
 Dives, (Intoning, as a priest at mass.) 
 
 O Lord God Almighty, Great Artificer, 
 Of the Mystical Heaven and Glorious Earth, 
 Tve come forth to praise Thee and joyful ac- 
 claim. 
 No temple, man-made, however cunningly 
 wrought, 
 
182 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Could pent my full Spirit, while all Out-of-Doors 
 Doth subtilely draw me with all that's alive 
 To worship in concert at altar occult 
 In Worshipping Time, in the Round of the Year: 
 To give humble thanks for Thy Beneficence. 
 
 Lazarus. (Muttering, as part of incoherent mob.) 
 
 Yah, hark to me too, lord, they have all the best — 
 The Rich — thy beneficence and all the rest. 
 Div, (Raises his fine slender hands, while his face takes 
 on a look of rapt adoration.) 
 
 I praise and I glorify Thee, Lord, I add 
 My paean unto th'inaudible hosannahs 
 Now pouring from Earth 
 
 Laz. Yah, the Rich are the earth! 
 
 Div, For Springtide supernal ! 
 
 Laz. For Them its rebirth I 
 
 Div. The buds are a-swell and scatter green fra- 
 grance. 
 The grass is a-pushing, the crocus peers forth— 
 
 Laz, The dand'lions swarm on the rubbish-strewn 
 lot; 
 The orchard thick blossoms with fruit that is not 
 For me more than shade of the trees on each side 
 The bulVard when the burning sun shrivels the 
 
 hide 
 Of the poor in their alleys. 
 
 Div, O sweet Harbingers 
 
 Of the Year's juvenesence, as this swelling joy, 
 This thrill of the blood, tokens Youth, Life's fair 
 Spring, 
 
DIVES AND LAZARUS 183 
 
 And its twin, Love, that fairest of all fair Spring- 
 tides. 
 Laz, Still Springs and more Springs: yet it can't 
 be denied 
 They're all for the Rich— 
 Div. O Triplet Divine. 
 
 As Comrades you visit each mortal but once! 
 Laz, Ay well, maybe we are immortals it shuns. 
 Dives, For my Health, that insures me enjoy- 
 ment of Life, 
 
 I thank Thee 
 
 Laz. The luxury's Yours, ours the strife. 
 
 Div. For my Wealth, this broad Heritage, costing 
 to me 
 Nor work, service, merit. Dispenser of Good, 
 
 Humble thanks 
 
 Laz, Yes, we furnish the whole of that gang 
 
 That make up the coin to build up Your Wealth; 
 And You hold tight enough what You got by 
 
 this stealth. 
 (For sure don't You say You never did labor?) 
 With Your Wills and Your Laws that cut out 
 Your neighbor. 
 Div, For the thrice-blessed power to be charitable, 
 
 I shed grateful tears, O Great Philanthropist. 
 Laz. The poor are so busy they don 't make no fret 
 
 As philantropists, and they wish You'd forget. 
 Div. And for breeding and schooling, inclining 
 the stock 
 To soft words and graciousness, best to bestow 
 Sweet Charity, who can I thank but my Maker! 
 
184 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Laz. Hum. What You call charity, he's just a fakir 
 
 Who swells up and blows when he gives you a 
 boost, 
 
 As if he was Ruler — like You — of the roost. 
 
 And, if weVe not gentle, and don't speak polite, 
 
 Why, we say what we mean, and are fair in a 
 fight. 
 Div, I yearn so. Dear God, to be swelling the sum 
 
 Of my service to You in sweet philantrophy. 
 
 That belike I grow proud of my Greed. So I pray 
 
 Teach me to be meek, like Thy Son Jesus Christ, 
 
 To follow His Footsteps 
 
 Laz, Don't think, you. His god, 
 
 He means teaching by suffering— He holds that 
 the rod 
 
 Is for us. 
 
 Div, Lowly too, Patron Great 
 
 Laz. Yes, for see. 
 
 It sets off His riches. 
 
 Div, And wise 
 
 Laz, That son, he 
 
 Can't spring from the Rich class. 
 
 Div. And just 
 
 Laz, It*s a lie: 
 
 His example's meek, lowly and just? In your eye! 
 Div. Make me happy and pros'prous, according, 
 O God, 
 
 As I live in the Light of Thy Law. 
 Laz. Yes, His god, 
 
 I join in that prayer, as He lives in the light 
 
 Of your law, make Him happy and pros'prous, 
 that's right. 
 
DIVES AND LAZARUS 185 
 
 The sooner will Our God and us get together: 
 And He knows what we want without all this 
 blather! 
 Div, Increase my opportunities to build a good 
 
 fame, 
 Laz. The Rich have already all what goes by that 
 name. 
 
 Div, Confound in Thy Wisdom mine enemy 
 
 Laz, How? 
 
 He is meaning the poor, who are confounded 
 nowl 
 Div, I thank Thee, my Lord, that my sympathies 
 
 are broad 
 
 Laz, Yes, so you have kept us down-trodden, 
 
 o'erawed. 
 Div, My interest in all public things is a feature— 
 Laz, For all public bodies are Yours, or Your 
 
 creature. 
 Div, I thank Thee, O Lord, for this dew on the 
 grass. 
 That sweetly elates, till my senses nigh swoon— 
 Laz, And, His lord, don't forget, the poor have 
 no grass. 
 For it's a great luxury, has long come to pass. 
 Div, Divine emanation from the Blue Vault 
 overhead, 
 Enthralling my Soul to its uttermost bounds; 
 O Lord, 1 give thanks for the Spiritual Flux— 
 
186 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Laz, I know what is flux — but divine ema — 
 
 Shucks! (Shrugs shoulders) 
 Div, (Slowly dropping his arms, and becoming pensive) 
 For the crushed, wet, green grass, whose breath, 
 
 acridly sweet. 
 And pungent and powerful, casts over my sense 
 A spell aphrodisiac, exalting my blood! 
 
 Laz, Well, everything stirs up His blood He 
 
 feels good! 
 
 Div. (In tender, thrilling tones) 
 O Lord, Loving Father, a new thanks I bring, 
 Continuous, fervent, exultant and meek. 
 Thou hast given me to mate — far beyond my 
 
 deserts. 
 As moon that doth guide all the tides of my 
 
 being — 
 
 The Padmini woman 
 
 Laz, Now, what can that be? 
 
 It's something most special for the Rich, I can 
 
 see. 
 Or He wouldn't be thanking. No woman have I, 
 Padmini or other, although it's no lie. 
 
 My vitals oft burn for a mate and His laws 
 
 Made for us to be moral — you'll see them the 
 
 cause 
 O' many queer doin's for wanting a mate. 
 For there aint any tides of that kind in our Fate! 
 
DIVES AND LAZARUS 187 
 
 Div, So will my offspring be nigh to divine 
 
 The Leader and Guide of his weak brother, Man. 
 Laz. No offspring of Padmini I, nor from one 
 Shall ever I get me a daughter or son. 
 I want no such burden, Tm poor, will die poor, 
 And leaving no sign: yet of world wisdom more, 
 And of suffering, have I, than any Rich Man 
 And His Padmini Woman and it don't seem 
 
 They can 
 
 Be no leaders to me 
 
 Div. And too, I give thanks 
 
 For the high, pensive cloud, and swift summer 
 
 storm. 
 When the Rainbow is close; the Wind, smelling 
 
 of Life, 
 Soil-charged gutter waters, which, having ful- 
 filled 
 Their mission of cleansing, go themselves to be 
 
 cleansed; 
 In keeping the Law of the Cycle of Life. 
 Laz, All storms are alike to the poor, all are ill, 
 And threaten disaster; and sure they are chill. 
 And mud's so like our lot 'taint got no attractions. 
 Div. And O Lord, I thank Thee, Tm not as of 
 
 yore 
 Was Dives, my forbear, too often purse-proud, 
 Overbearing and idle, but more like Thy Son, 
 
 Meek, gentle, philanthropic 
 
188 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Laz. Yes, don*t you forget 
 
 That we have changed places, His lord, just to let 
 Him enjoy seeing me overbearing, purse-proud, 
 
 Often idle 
 
 « — 
 
 Div, Great Teacher, Thou'st taught me 
 
 the Law 
 
 That Here all is merited, inevitable, final. 
 
 Thus works out the delicate, subtle, refined, 
 
 Th' alluringly elevated 
 
 Laz, There is a Decree 
 
 That nothing is final: Great Kings cease to be. 
 
 Dynasties die— Nations pass from the scroll, 
 
 And the Earth's not the same since it first 'gan 
 to roll; 
 
 It's the Law of the Lord of the Sorrowful — 
 Change! 
 
 But it changes but slow, which certain seems 
 strange. 
 Div, I thank Thee the rain falls alike on the rich 
 
 And the Poor, I would not have it other than so. 
 Laz, O keep it Yourself, His lord, or if You must 
 
 Let it go, here's Your favorite. Dives, who's just 
 
 So well clad, so well fed. he'd enjoy a small spell 
 
 Of hardship, while I,— rheumatism and— well, 
 
 Pneumonia 
 
 Div, I thank Thee that I have today 
 
 My heart's full desire in children who thrive— 
 Laz, The Lord of the Sorrowful knows I'm un- 
 mated 
 
DIVES AND LAZARUS 189 
 
 Though He aint the only by sex-hunger baited. 
 
 As the slave need not — save for slaves — to be 
 bred, 
 
 So Machinery bars all my hopes to be wed. 
 Div. I thank Thee, Good Lord, for casting my lot 
 
 Long after the Social Compact 
 
 Laz, O well, now, 
 
 What is a Social Compact? I allow 
 
 If He thanks His god for't, it's some scheme, 
 no doubt. 
 
 That the poor can get on very well, sure, without. 
 Div. When ethical culture has reached a degree 
 
 Heretofore undreamed of: when Man loves his 
 brother 
 
 So that to be lonely's the greatest of crimes: 
 Laz, You don't know how good to be lonely some- 
 times. 
 Div, When even the humblest feel never the need 
 
 Of Society's highest and greatest of duties. 
 
 Protection: in sooth, 'tis created for such— 
 Laz, There is such a thing as having too much. 
 Div, When we meet with our fellows to warmly 
 discuss 
 
 Commonweal without prejudice 
 
 Laz, Yes, the Rich can: 
 
 But come to the poor, it's a differe«t tale: 
 
 They must explain it or else go to gaol. 
 
 (It begins to thunder gently, and there is a slight 
 clouding of the sky.) 
 
190 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Div. So humbly I thank Thee for th' inestimable 
 boon 
 Of Government, lacking which, shrewd I suspect 
 Td not safely enjoy for a day all these things 
 Which it^s plainly your Will I shall have. 
 
 Laz. Sure enough, 
 
 And even the gratification of whims. 
 But we poor needn't bother a-singing of hymns 
 To god or the government: one plans us foul, 
 T* other fouls our plans, with injunctions on all 
 That's worth having — can't even gather to curse. 
 Its meddlesome minions, or, what is far worse, 
 Parade, that the Spoilsman may scare from His 
 
 prey. 
 Or fear such a Concourse of Idle a day. 
 
 Div. (Fervently) 
 
 Dear Lord, there is naught I can think of, but I 
 
 Am moved to give thanks, in deferent Faith 
 
 And ecstatic humbleness 
 
 (It thunders loudly) Exquisite Voice 
 
 Of the Elements! I thank Thee for that! 
 Laz, What a Noise. 
 
 O, His lord, do not rain, that is all that I urge, 
 
 T' will help on His sod, but bring me to the verge 
 
 Of the grave with this cold 
 
 Div, (Sees Lazarus) Ah, friend, what do you wish? 
 Laz. To change places with you. 
 
 Div* (Shaking his head with an amused smile to himself) 
 Now, what a queer chap! 
 
DIVES AND LAZARUS 
 
 (Aloud) Impossible, friend, each is fit to the lot 
 To which he is called. 
 Lai, No. I think You have got 
 
 A wrong understanding, perhaps from Your god. 
 To be uppish by good luck aint nothing to laud. 
 You'd shiver and starve lots easier than me; 
 I could walk on Your green grass beneath Your 
 
 blue sky, 
 In a nice striped coat, Injun slippers, white pants, 
 As easy as You — just give me a chance. 
 
 Div, (Lifting his face beseechingly) 
 
 Just God, how is it, our brothers, the Poor, 
 Grow ever more ranc'rous and jealous of us. 
 No matter how great our compassion, our love, 
 Our aid in their needs — we never can please. 
 
 Laz, Come out, O come out, Mr. Richman, I say, 
 And let's exchange clothes, if not places; all day 
 
 1 have shivered 
 
 Div, (Reaching out his hands, palms up, as big drops 
 begin to fall.) 
 
 It's going to storm, you had best 
 Seek some shelter, my friend, I must go in the 
 house. 
 
 Laz. I have nowhere to go 
 
 Div, (Compassionately) And are hungry, perhaps? 
 Laz, Always hungryl 
 
 Div, (Eagerly) Then go to the kitchen door, friend,- 
 Laz, Is that the place You and the Padmini eat? 
 And Your visitors find at Your banquets their 
 seat? 
 
192 ECHOES AND PROPHECIES 
 
 Div. (Surprised and puziled) 
 But — the cook — has strict orders good food to 
 
 supply 
 To every unfortunate brother who comes 
 To the back kitchen door— not one turned away. 
 And sympathy too, they can have for the asking! 
 Laz, Back door nothin'. When I go to beggin*, 
 'twont be 
 At the back doors on speakin' acquaintance with 
 
 me. 
 
 (The rain begins to fall heavily, though the sun is 
 shining. Sound of a window opening. A lady appears 
 thereat, shrouded in a loose white garment covered with 
 lace. She calls in tones of piercing sweetness. Dives 
 waves his hand, and yodels gaily as he turns to go in.) 
 Div. (Calling back, as he draws the jacket closely about 
 him, pushing up his shoulders.) 
 It's raining, now hurry, my friend, run around 
 To the back kitchen door — don't be foolish, I beg. 
 
 (Lazarus shrinks down close to the fence, pressing 
 his face to the rails and gaping at the lady, and, even 
 after Dives has disappeared, the window is closed aud 
 all is silent, save for the rain heavily plashing on the 
 asphalt street and sidewalk stones, he still stares at the 
 spot where he had seen her face. 
 
 The shower is soon over and the sun glistens on the 
 wet grass, and is reflected in little pools of water on the 
 asphalt here and there. A fine rainbow appears in the 
 sky opposite the window where the lady had appeared.) 
 Laz, (Rising stiffly and shivering. He shakes the iron 
 pickets, but they do not move. He shakes his fist at 
 the house.) 
 
DIVES AND LAZARUS 193 
 
 I can't move Your fence with a pull and a twist, 
 I can't move Your house with a shake of my fist; 
 But hoi Brother Dives, for the Reckoning Day, 
 When the Sovran People (as You like to say,)— 
 That's me and my brothers,— will murmur so 
 
 loud. 
 That down will fall fine fence and mansion so 
 
 proud 
 In a Quake at that Voice! The Padmini and You, 
 And all of Your brood, will tremblingly sue 
 For mercy, with nowhere to hide from their woe. 
 As I from the rain a short while ago. 
 The Voice will destroy both You and Your kind. 
 As hardships kill us who are left from the grind. 
 
 Now. I'll go. Your Padmini and You, I can see, 
 Are wanting to come out here into the Free, 
 To smell of Your Rain, and to look at Your Bow, 
 And to walk on Your Grass. If I did but know 
 Where was a warm rain, striped bow and green 
 
 grass. 
 That belonged to My God, I'd not let them pass: 
 I'd smell it, and look, as I walked on it soft — 
 For I guess I'd have time if My God was aloft! 
 
 (Goes off, his old wet shoes squashing on tht wet 
 pavement, just as Dives and his lady step out of the 
 window onto the piazza, with faces glowing with aes- 
 thetic rapture.) 
 
 ( FINIS.) 
 
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