Author Title Class ./r:.j» ,3^..a/.. Imprint Book mi PAN IN AMBUSH A Piny in One Act By MARJORIE PATTERSON VAGABOND PLAYS— No. 3 I m PAN IN AMBUSH A Play in One Act BY MARJORIE PATTERSON i) The Norman, Remington Company Baltimore 1921 Manuscript registered in Copyright office April ISth, 1920 Copyrighted February, 1921, BY The Norman, Remington Co. Jlii. -SI92I \U Published by special arrangement with Mr. Norman Lee Swartout The Professional and Amateur Stage rights on this play are strictly reserved. Application for permission to produce it should be made to Mr. Norman Lee Swartout, Summit, N. J. ©CI.D 57905 "Wtj First produced in the United States at the Vaga- bond Theatre, Thursday evening, March 7th, 1918. The Faun Adele Gutman Nathan The Poet Charles Ernest Wallace The Schoolmistress Florence Stieff The Botany Teacher Clapham Murray, Jr. First Pupil Louise Talbot Second Pupil Therese Strother Third Pupil Cecelia Harvey Coale SCENE A lovely old garden run wild L, A sundial and a bench where the Poet is discovered trying to read. Books are scattered around him, R, A young Faun either in the fork of a tree or in the shadow of a bu^h is mending his pipes. The house is an old manor house at back. Door R, In backcloth. One feels the influence of noon. The garden is suffused with sun and seems to steam with the scent of lilacs and helio- trope, R, A Bower, CHARACTERS A Poet A Schoolmistress A Botany Teacher First Pupil VICTORIA Second Pupil CAROLINE Third Pupil GERTRUDE A Faun (Supposed to be invisible to other characters). Period of the play: A day that is past. Time: High noon. Place: An old-fashioned garden somewhere in Eng- land where the roses bloom early. DESCRIPTION OF THE CHARACTERS The Poet — A man of imagination, aspirations and appetites. Black velvet coat, lavender trousers strapped under the instep. Pretentiously dis- ordered hair ; general resemblance to Alfred de MUSSET. The Schoolmistress — Typical old maid. She wears a flowered crinoline, a cashmere shawl; a pork pie hat and mittens and carries a butterfly net. The Botany Teacher — A character resembling the comic curate in Gilbert's "Bab Ballads," clad in sepulchral black, a broad-brimmed hat and black gloves several sizes too large ; a magnify- ing glass and a box containing floral specimens, make up his equipment. The First Pupil — A young girl just realizing the promise and wonder ef life. The Second Pupil Two preternaturally ingenue The Third Pupil girls in their early teens. The Three School-girls are dressed in white mus- lin crinolines. They wear poke bonnets, pan- talettes, white stockings and black sandal shoes. The First Pupil has a pale blue belt and a pale blue parasol. The Second Pupil a pink belt and pink parasol. The Third Pupil a violet belt and violet parasol. The Faun — A healthy young animal. {Invisible and inaudible to other characters,) PAN IN AMBUSH POET Books, magic books, divine consolers, Enchanted pages that while away Half my anguish, half my longing. Help, potent books, throughout this livelong day ! FAUN Oh swallow, swallow, swift- winged swallow! Far-travelled swallow that cleaves the spray ! Love and laughter and golden sunshine And long, long dreams : these bring in the May ! I'll mend my pipe, Fll play and the valley — All the valley shall ring again ! Frogs shall sing — and the gnats — in chorus, And two-legged animals, called men. With fang, horn, hoof Fll sport by the river, Pipe up echoes over the hill 1 POET Sick, sick heart, why do you tremble? Obstinate heart, grow cold and still ! Cease to beat — ^you must forget her ! FAUN ril dance the echoes up over the hill, Fll hide in reeds, when nymphs go bathing. Dangle my hoofs in the clear, cool rill. Oh, for a field deep, deep with clover To roll in the sun — worry a leaf I POET Spring has come with sun and the swallow With Love's own langour and Love's own grief! {A pause, he tries to read) 8 PAN IN AMBUSH POET — (Cont'd) This little book, that weighs so lightly in my hand, Is full of wisdom. From its dog-leafed page I un- derstand A woman's heart is nothing — a mere feather Dependent on the seasons and the weather ! The South wind blows ! She loves you — she's blown hither ! The North wind blows ! She's gone — ^lost to you and blown thither! So, under Nature's wild, indomitable sway, She's sometimes out of reach — and sometimes flung your way! FAUN (Still working at his pipes) Rill pipe ! Shrill pipe ! Sacred fife of May, Win me a fair mate, A new one every day ! Mermaid ! Fur maid! Any maid I'll woo. Rill pipe ! Shrill pipe ! Win me someone, do ! POET The hoary student — he who did this work compile — Calls woman fickle, merciless, omnipotent and vile Short-legged beast ! Base elemental power ! Could I but clasp thy hand, great Schopenhauer ! Her voice that lies so well — her sweet voice chaste sage, 9 PAN IN AMBUSH Foments within my breast fierce unmitigated rage. Transports me ! Holy rage ! Master, perhaps you too Broke from some early love, heartbroken as I do. FAUN Rill pipe ! Shrill pipe ! Now that winter's through Win me a fair mate Any mate vdll do. Soft-eyed Sylphide! By the water-fall Naiad ! Dryad ! Change is best of all ! POET But here I do forswear her. Yes, thus here and now To God's own Firmament, His azure Dome, I make this vow ! The old love I'll uproot, I'll weed it from my heart And live a woman-hater — austere, apart ! Through the grass her crinoline shall come no more Be-ribboned, fluttering bell of joy, towards my door; And — when v/e meet — in her face soberly I'll trace The skull! Death's grinning jaws, his stereotyped grimace ! FAUN Rill pipe ! Shrill pipe! Win me someone, do! Get me a fair mate A stranger — someone new! 10 PAN IN AMBUSH Strange kiss ! New Bliss! Put her to the test Surmise ! Surprise ! New love is best ! POET (Picks up several of the books and studies them) I have the poets here, fond Virgil and easy-going Horace, And Ovid who did love so often. {Throws the books from him) No, ril not read them, for their dancing rhythm Reminds me of her footfall : And their cadence of her soft lingering voice When she did love me ! FAUN It might be wise to ask the gouty Satyr, He, whom the nymphs adore. It might be well to ask that obscene monster What pretty tune he plays when Spring comes in That wins him a new love each verdant season. POET When she did love me — ^f or she loved me once — There was no secret in her heart then, no pretence. She loved me and she left me for a dunce, A dotard, an old man! Oh, woman's joyous, fierce inconsequence ! FAUN His lair is on a hill-side, where the grapes first ripen : He bribes the squirrels to bring him nuts and fill his granary 11 PAN IN AMBUSH POET But she is venal, marketable — that is her offence. She lives by smiles and wiles, false kisses and pre- tence ! Her flesh is in the scales, to be bought, to be sold ; She pawns her body for a piece of gold ! Oh God ! When she drew out her amber comb, and her dark hair unrolled. FAUN He knows the roots one must but chew, then spit out and not swallow Oh, happy Satyr ! POET (Rises, throiving the hook on the ground, and raves about) Poems, perfidious poems ! Lyrics, sapphics and the rest! No, I'll not read you — Vm deaf to you. Your lilting in my breast Rouses the old enchantment, the first, the primal spell Eve brought on earth to Adam from the hot depths of hell. I mean the spell of passion, the spark of Love's de- sire Of incendiary jealousy, a flame from helFs own fire! FAUN The toadstool, the puffball and all the fungi The spicy forest meat. I would I knew By Pan's tail, I do — What a faun may safely eat. 12 PAN IN AMBUSH Sweet, choking sweet, to the nose and the eye Is the rank pink fungus the oak tree by. Oh tears of greed! With what panting speed rd burrow with head With hoofs and with horns If I knew what was ed- ible under the thorns! Bits toothsome in secret Fd quickly devour But the poisonous, putrid, the rancid and sour, Oh joy! I'd give them to other fauns! POET (More quietly) But in this cloistered garden, where woman comes no more, I have locked my gate against her, doubly barred my door Here I, like holy hermit, like Nature's eremite. Peruse the rose in daytime and read the stars at night. Earth ! Universal mother ! Help, comfort and con- sole A haunted, love-sick creature, a poor hag-ridden soul! Let me forget, Oh Nature ! Let memory abate ! FAUN How fussy is the male man, before he gets his mate ! Cranes dance when they are wooing, and mating birds are gay: But man's a tedious biped, when new love's on the way! (Laughs) 13 PAN IN AMBUSH POET (Stops to listen) How sudden, sweet and silver the distant waterfall ! Rings shrill, like sylvan laughter or some uncanny call! This glen's reputed haunted, it is a fairy glade Where Pan doth mend his reed pipes, under the hawthorne shade. Our gross eyes may not see him, but sometimes I have felt The great god breathing near me, and all my soul has knelt! He pipes an eerie cadence — three notes played far apart. The symphony, the chorus of the sad human heart ! Sunshine, you do oppress me ! Lilacs, you reek too sweet ! The leaves quicken their tremor : my heart doubles its beat. But why? Spring brings me nothing, my life is at an end ! Print is best, grave books are best : (Picks up one of the books) my staid, my silent friend ! (He sits and tries again to read) FAUN Have you met the great god, Eros on the wing? Has he ever poised beside you in the sing- Song and swish of all Creation. In the frenzied wild elation, The orchestral jubilation Of the Spring ! 14 PAN IN AMBUSH Once I met the great god, Eros, on the wing. And he said to me : "Young faun, I've just the thing There's no Hamadryad fleeter. Oh, I wish that you could meet her For you know there's nothing sweeter In the Spring !" It was time I had a flutter and a fling. So I said: "Great Eros, bring her on the wing!" Oh, the god was no deceiver. Oh, the passion — Oh, the fever! Why, I could but barely leave her By next Spring! POET Here is a book that suits me ; here is the ban Mahomet put on woman. This mussulman Declares a woman has no soul; her lovely eyes Once closed in death, open no more in Paradise! Exiled with impure beasts, blind earth above, about her, She rots — but what to me were Paradise without her? FAUN I've made love when the fierce sun has shone, Or when the full moon on her throne Beamed with all stars together, Or when, like a feather She has fluttered in ether — alone! And the strangest of joys I have known But there's one thing, just one That I never have done, Be the night black as Pluto's own zone, There's but one — just one thing — Ne'er ate sweet nuts in Spring 15 PAN IN AMBUSH Fresh nuts when the May was full-blown ! (He blows through his pipes hut can as yet get no music from them; only a strange bubbling sound such as an orchestra makes when tuning,) POET At times runs a tremor through nature A sigh, like a breath through the grasses. You'd think now a woman was coming, Whispering and rustling she passes ! In wake of this stir and this tremor Scents quicken. From bush brake and cover Breath perfumes; ferns palpitate, tremble, As trembles the heart of a lover. Moment, tense, sweet, expectant! First love Is not sharper! Oh Nature, you hurt! Her I feel in your beauty, I hear In your sighing the swish of her skirt! {The faun plays a few faltering notes,) POET {Puts his hands over his ears and gabbles off as though in prayer.) Philosophy ! My chaste, new mistress, let me con Thy lover Socrates — or no — this lexicon — Or no! Some poet rather, whose verse soars on wings, {Picks up a book but does not open it yet.) Life without love is like a lyre without strings! {The Faun plays a few more faltering notes, al- ways getting a little further in the cadence,) 16 PAN IN AMBUSH POET (Puts Ms hands over his ears, trying to read.) There's rhythm for you ! There's a lyrical outburst ! {Relapsing and dreaming ojj again,) Yes, yes, it was, I think, in April we met first. FAUN (Plays again, getting still further in the cadence) There's no throb in that trill, it had a pulseless sound. POET Oh, those dark eyes of hers, where all my soul lies drowned ! Dear God ! How will it seem to be always alone ? (The poet's head sinks between his hands and he weeps silently.) FAUN (At this moment bursts out into a triumphant Paean, a volley of notes.) By Pan! A sweeter lilt; it had a fuller tone! (The voices of tiuo girls sound from over the wall.) SECOND PUPIL Is it here the garden door is? THIRD PUPIL Yes, it's there! SECOND PUPIL Here by all these morning glories? THIRD PUPIL Yes, it's where The woodbine and clematis Are twined about a lattice And bob like dancing lasses at a fair. 17 PAN IN AMBUSH SECOND PUPIL In the garden door a grate is? THIRD PUPIL Yes, it's there! SECOND PUPIL Can one see where the far gate is? THIRD PUPIL Everywhere ! SECOND PUPIL Look! Tulips stiff as fencers When saluting, and censers Are the May-boughs perfuming all the air! POET Oh voice, that first in Eden woke the snake, Put hope in the old serpent's heart to break The spell of symmetry that held the earth Immortal, young and glad! Voice that gave birth To all calamity! Trebles that haunt! Babble of women ! Hence ! Begone ! Avaunt ! {Faun plays.) POET {Pauses and hesitates.) But why, like some rude clown, ungallant fool, Ban every crinoline? 'Tis but a school! In science name, all I admit, any May in my garden study botany. And these are children; I can see between The lilacs bob each joyous crinoline. Love still is masked, wrapped in his cloak to them. Supposing that I stayed and spoke to them! 18 PAN IN AMBUSH But no! Weakness! They have a chaperone. Scarce could I say a word to them alone, Scarce could I have a word with them in peace, Accursed sex! Eggs of the cockatrice! (Rushes into house.) (The botany teacher enters with the second and third pupils. The schoolmistress follows with the first pupil.) SECOND PUPIL WeVe studied mythology, scandals and all! THIRD PUPIL WeVe rather enjoyed it SECOND PUPIL There is little to pall In the bible when read Unexpurged from the Fall. BOTANY TEACHER Indeed, two most promising girls! THIRD PUPIL WeVe studied the kings down From good old King John. SECOND PUPIL WeVe read how they behaved. THIRD PUPIL Also what they had on. SECOND PUPIL And what wife they suppressed, When they had a fad on. 19 PAN IN AMBUSH BOTANY TEACHER Two really remarkable girls! THIRD PUPIL We've learnt how to curtsey And dance at a rout. SECOND PUPIL And drop a bouquet When a young man's about! THIRD PUPIL And when we've done wrong, We have not been found out. BOTANY TEACHER Two highly superior girls ! SCHOOLMISTRESS (Fluttering forward.) Ah! The pretty ringtime! Oh ! The balmy springtime ! As the swan of Avon — as Mr. Shakespeare said Young ladies, turn your toes out, Give your crinolines a flout, Gertrude, hold your parasol erect above your head! Young ladies, the Spring is at its full consummation. See Earth's horticultural — her sweet dissipation! Prosperpina has passed! A marvelous spectacle! BOTANY TEACHER (Aside) I'll pluck each a posy. No, 'tisn't respectable. 20 PAN IN AMBUSH SCHOOLMISTRESS Indeed, young ladies, believe me, I deeply admire In Nature's great scheme how birds, brooks, how insects conspire 'Gainst sloth. Mark how the bee improves each shining hour ! BOTANY TEACHER See ! He buzzes around each promiscuous flower. SCHOOLMISTRESS Nota bene, young ladies, there is nothing that grows But is perfect — a gem. Now, let us look at that rose. Should we not raise our souls in fond praise to the Giver? BOTANY TEACHER (Studying the rose with his magnifying glass) Yes, as I thought, she's a rambler, she's a free liver ! SCHOOLMISTRESS Young ladies, this term Do you feel that you're firm In what it has been your vocation To mark, learn and digest? I'll put you now to the test With a serious examination. (She claps her hands. The girls stand in a roio facing her. The first pupil nearest the footlights, then the second, then the third) SCHOOLMISTRESS (Briskly) Colloquial name for the Stella Gloria? Answer me that, if you can, Victoria? 21 PAN IN AMBUSH FIRST PUPIL 'Tis just on the tip of my tongue, alas! SCHOOLMISTRESS Go at once to the bottom of the class ! {The first pupil trips down to the bottom of the class. Then the whole class trips up a few steps so as to stand where it did before, just facing the schoolmistress. Every time a pupil is sent to the bottom of the class this same little dance is per^ formed identically, while the faun plays a trill. The girls stand like rigid dolls, their toes turned out, their parasols above their heads. The pupil at the head of the class wears a smug expression. The other two appear abashed) SCHOOLMISTRESS Who fiddled while Rome burnt ? THIRD PUPIL A dance and song Were performed by by SCHOOLMISTRESS (Pointing) Go where you belong ! {The second pupil trips to the bottom of the class. Same business) THIRD PUPIL {Waving her hand animatedly, eager to speak) By a lady in her camisole — but — ^^ SCHOOLMISTRESS By Nero, whose likeness you've seen. Tut, tut. 22 PAN IN AMBUSH (Points, and the third p^ipil goes to the bottom of the class) Victoria head of the class again ! Do you realize the position you maintain? BOTANY TEACHER Her responsibility weighs upon her, She knows 'tis a precarious honor. SCHOOLMISTRESS Now, let us plunge deeper into the past. For how many days did the deluge last? FIRST PUPIL Don't know, teacher, 'twas a prodigious rain. SCHOOLMISTRESS Go to the bottom of the class again! (The first pupil does so) SCHOOLMISTRESS (Claps her hands. The girls straighten up) Ladies, attention! Arithmetic! Now, if seven hens in thirteen years Laid ninety-two eggs, for it appears That the hen is, indeed, prolific! If on the Leap Year they laid six more How long would it take each hen before She laid an omelette? Be specific! (The girls are silent. They fidget) What, silent? Mute? Drooping heads, cheeks that burn? Go to the bottom of the class in turn ! (They do so) 23 PAN IN AMBUSH BOTANY TEACHER Ma'am, dismiss the class! Sit ladies, do. This microscope can Dissect agricultural secrets, once sacred to Pan. (All sit and study specimens) FIRST PUPIL Who, teacher, was that great god, Pan, of whom the ancients wrote? BOTANY TEACHER My child, he was a horrid and most unseemly goat ! FAUN (Springing up, incensed) Oh, blasphemy! A shudder runs through Nature! Sacrilege! I crouch — I pounce! But no — in Pan's offended name, this anathema awful I pronounce. (Like the imp in the pantomime, with uplifted hands he curses the botany teacher, who is of course, as is everyone else on the stage, oblivious of him. During the curse the botany teacher studies speci- mens through his microscope, but gradually he be- covies depressed. He rolls his eyes in a sentimental fashion. He lays down his microscope and sighs as the faun finishes) Botanist foolish ! Mortal unwary! Thou shalt eke out thy days In a girls' seminary ! Watch primary classes To womanhood grow. And torments of Tantalus 24 PAN IN AMBUSH Then thou shalt know. To observe these enchanting — These feminine charms, Ripening for other and Masculine arms! Though of love horticul- tural thou tell the sweet story, Yet they'll call thee "old bore" In the girls' dormitory! Thou shalt dote on the prize Model pupil, alas ! And prepare floral idylls For thy botany class! But when thou wouldst speak See! Thefair head ishid! She swallows a caramel Behind her desk lid! Though thou strive with rare Specimens to enrapture and please Yet, the girls shall prefer On the flighty trapeze With the muscular gym- nast to wantonly play, Or go out with male cousins On the half-holiday: Till, maddened, distraught, Thou shalt bend to the mighty Inexorable yoke Of the dread Aphrodite! And the plain maiden lady Who is now at thy side. Thou shalt clasp to thy breast As thy middle-aged bride ! (Sits down in a huff with his back turned) 25 PAN IN AMBUSH SCHOOLMISTRESS (Snuggling coyly up to the botany teacher) Is this the double-petalled Vobilisculam ? Or is it a geranium? . BOTANY TEACHER (With an awful look at her) 'Tis neither, ma'am! SCHOOLMISTRESS Sir! Your looks are wild, your voice has a hollow ring. BOTANY TEACHER Ma'am, Oh ma'am, I dread the influence of the Spring ! SCHOOLMISTRESS Ah, longing for green fields, dear sir, and pastures new? In the forest let us botanise, I and you ! Gertrude and Caroline! Go, ladies, for a walk! Intersperse your chatter with cultivated talk. Round the common go, five times in brisk rotation, Greet each object with a suitable quotation! (Points) There, a rare specimen of the spreading chestnut stands ; Recall the village smith — his large and sinewy hands ! THE SECOND AND THIRD PUPILS (Exit holding each other by the hand and chant- ing as they go) "Beneath the spreading chestnut ..." (The botany teacher starts to follow them) 26 PAN IN AMBUSH SCHOOLMISTRESS (Tol)otany teacher) Why are you flitting? BOTANY TEACHER Merely to suggest quotations that are fitting. SCHOOLMISTRESS Come forestward with me, I'll take no denial I {Turning to first pupil) Ah, Victoria, musing on the sundial ? {Goes up to first pupil and reads the motto 07i the sundial) The motto reads: "Amor solus tempus vincit." Translate ; amplify ! {The first pupil is silent and hangs her head; scrapes with her foot, etc.) What, mute ! Fie, ignorant chit ! Stay! Peruse this motto! I shall be truly vexed, If by dinner time you've not deciphered the text! {Is 'about to exit hut notices that the botany teacher is not coming) But why, sir, do you loiter, do you stay behind? BOTANY TEACHER To elucidate Latin to the growing mind! SCHOOLMISTRESS No, no, dear sir! Your arm, and come along with me! {She takes his arm) This dear child will join us under the greenwood tree. But why this rolling eye? Don't you feel quite the thing? 27 PAN IN AMBUSH BOTANY TEACHER (In a sepulchral voice) Ma'am, ah ma'am, I dread the influence of the Spring! SCHOOLMISTRESS Ah, my mittens, shawl, butterfly net! Pray, sir, bring My reticule! BOTANY TEACHER I dread the influence of Spring! (The schoolmistress hands the botany teacher all her paraphernalia and they exit L, he laden doiun, reluctantly looking back at the first pupil) (The faun plays) FIRST PUPIL Black cypresses towering, White lilacs a-flowering. And scents overpowering Whose sweet names I ignore! Strange garden where fragrance teems, Garden, where it somehow seems That in my own secret dreams I have strayed here before. (The faun plays a short cadence) Beauty acute! Oh, sweet tears. When the heart beats and the ears Ring ! Hush ! Hark ! Listen ! One hears The pipes of Arcady ! Poppies flame and fulgurate. And glow like the rose agate. Oh, Fve grown so sad of late, Now Fm a young lady. 28 PAN IN AMBUSH (The faun plays a short cadence) Yes, beauty oppresses me, And earth's charm distresses me. When the breeze caresses me From the South, blowing up Perfumes of unknown flowers, Incense from southern hours ! Oh! V/hat satanic pov/ers A girl meets growing up ! (The faun plays a short cadence) FIRST PUPIL It's no use to dissemble I blush, I pale, I tremble As though Fd met the emble- matical fiend who, switched By God from the Firmament, Lurks in music, color, scent! I pray by the Sacrament That I be not bewitched. (Sits down on the bank R of the stage near the faun and picks a fioiver) FAUN (His pipe is finished. He is winding round it a hit of ivy) There was once a great king's daughter, who grew pale. And who trembled like a lily in a gale ; Nor all the Court physicians, Nor cleverest magicians. Nor the priests' fervent petitions Could avail! 29 PAN IN AMBUSH She grows pale, the great king's daughter — yet more pale, And she droops as does a long-becalmed sail. The old sages do not know That the fiend who plagues her so Is Lov«, who beats her with his bow For a flail! FIRST PUPIL (As she speaks the following she pulls the petals from the flower and recites like a child, swinging one foot and emphasizing the jingle of the verse) What will summer, Midsummer bring? One lover? Two lovers? Or in early Spring Will a young man court me With a wedding ring? Or, when snow first The cold earth covers Shall I have one, two — Three — four lovers? Or, when leaves sere From the forest fall, Shall I meet the dearest, The only love of all? Dark? Fair? Short? Tall? One lover — two lovers? (Disappointed) No love at all ! (Tryifig to comfort herself) I counted the petals, yet the verse works out wrong. 'Tis but a superstition, a stupid, old-time song! 30 PAN IN AMBUSH A silly lullaby my nurse has often sung In the past to me, years ago, when I was young. Tis but foolishness and a childish nursery rhyme! (Inconsequently) I will try it again, for it did not count last time. (She begins again to pull off the petals from an- other flower, whispering to herself the while) FAUN (Comes behind the young girl and whispers to her over her shoulder) Young girl, oh young girl! There's a waltz in the whirl Of the pool by the mill. Can't the mill-wheel keep still? Like the mad heart of Love It beats, throbs, while above From the bank, willows seem Kissing shades in the stream ! Youth's but a short sleep, yes, and Love is its dream ! Its ecstatic, redoubtable, pulse-shaking dream! FIRST PUPIL In study time I like to read, when teacher's off her guard, Dream and look out of window at the recreation yard. My geography I open, with the map I cover The story of a young girl and a young man — her lover ; More absorbing by far than the coastal line of Dover ! For study books I feign to look, pens, blotting paper, lest 31 PAN IN AMBUSH Teacher should guess I am remiss, and with my fore- head pressed Against my desk-lid, opened wide, I read until dis- tressed By a vague, delicious turmoil, a sort of sweet un- rest — And then my heart starts softly, softly knocking in my breast! FAUN Young girl, oh young girl! When you hear the soft swirl And the swish of the breeze Through the shimmering trees, It brings you a message This shuddering presage. For it tells you just this — What you want — what you miss; Faint sweet premonition of Love's long, first kiss! Love's tremulous, insatiable, sense-racking kiss! FIRST PUPIL Teacher says prayers at 9 p. m. and then upstairs we go, The dormitory looks so staid v/ith white beds in a row, Kind teacher blows each candle out, she draws the curtain rings, And lying quiet in the dark, I think of such odd things. Of a choir boy I've seen in church, who like an angel sings. And somehow I can't sleep at all, I can't get any rest. I creep up to the window, in my nightgown, all un- dressed. 32 PAN IN AMBUSH I like to see the rising moon, or watch her silver crests Vanish on the horizon when she's setting in the West. And then my heart starts softly, softly knocking in my breast ! FAUN Young girl, oh young girl! The shy petals unfurl Of the secret foxglove In the fervour of love! 'Neath the hot prying sun Its leaves part one by one. Till its closed heart shall lay Bare to kisses of day. What can live without love, lass? Coming your way — Sighing low, breathing quick — love is coming your way. FIRST PUPIL When I'm grown up . . . (She hesitates and goes to the dial) (The faun squats down where she was sitting) . I must read this dial. *Amor' I know is 'love.* This Latin, what a trial! FAUN Women are pretty in their way, They have a charm I don't gainsay. But I ask you, what's their use? Why, a fat, stuffed, Strasbourg goose Can run as far as they can in a day! Now, in the woods, a pixie, fay — Or, in the floods, a nixie may 33 PAN IN AMBUSH Teach the whirligig of Pan, But poor, unexacting man Has never joined the fairy jig. Evoe! FIRST PUPIL Next year I shall waltz, if asked out at all. Oh my heart! Oh how 'twill beat at my very first ball! FAUN Oh they talk, these pretty women — how they talk! I have watched them on a solitary walk As to themselves they gabble. And feverishly babble. As they tear a daisy's petals from its stalk. You may think 1 speak in undiscerning haste, But I vow that a mermaid's more to my taste Though she's somewhat cold and numb At least, half the time she's dumb, For the poor girl's half a fish up to the waist. FIRST PUPIL *Amor' — They say a poet lives here and Somehow I think he must be young, pale, heart- broken, grand ! FAUN I admit there's much variety in women, For I once saw a girls' Board School go a-swimmin.' I was hiding in the laurels, and the pretty little sillies Came trippin' down like fillies. There were chestnuts, bays and sorrels And they baulked the waves like fences, But they've fads and false pretences, And there's some that have got morals I 34 PAN IN AMBUSH FIRST PUPIL 'Amoi:' — ^yes, *love.' His elbow must press on {Taking up a position) The dial thus ! Oh, I wish I had my blue dress on ! FAUN Give me a genial mad Bacchante Who's a very Coryphante On her feet, when there's Chianti A-running down her throat. Whose a-side-stepping, whose side glancing Sets all the satyrs prancing Rouses capers in each ante- diluvian he-goat ! (He skips back to his lair) POET (Enters, He has rearranged his stock, put on a neiv ivaistcoat, pomaded his hair and carries a dressy grey beaver. He speaks from the steps of the house) So those school chits are gone ! How still my staid monastic garden seems ! Void, joyless as the dawn to unloved lovers waken- ing from their dreams. And what then? Am I sad? But why? (Coming down) Ah, like swallows on migration Some girls have passed. Indomitable heart! Fool- ish agitation! But look ! There is yet one who stays She leans on the old dial and delays. O'er the vague moss-grown text is bent Her sweet young head in studious wonderment ! (Delighted) 35 PAN IN AMBUSH Philosophy ! Philosophy ! Humbly I crave thy par ^ don ! But indisputably there is. a woman in my garden! A woman ! What does she look like ? How does she speak? Charm of the unknown face, the half-averted cheek ! Touching appeal of girlhood! Palpitant lashes! Veiling the eyes of youth ! Deep gaze that abashes ! The misanthrope! (Beating his breast) Poet! Poet! Fool, child thou art! What then ? Because one v/oman's versed in sensual art False — vile — is there no unkissed mouth, no intact heart? FIRST PUPIL {Looking up, startled) Oh sir! POET Oh ma'am! Nay, nay, I prithee, do not start! For charity's sweet sake, dear ma'am, resume that pose And let me look upon you — gaze upon you close, While burns this way-worn heart self-consuming in- cense. Smouldering before the shrine of breathing inno- cence. Ma'am, I'm a faltering rhymester, nothing more. But with immortal longings I adore What is immaculate and what is pure. In you I see as 'twere the immature Promise that breathes when the first swallow's wing Grazes the eaves in very early Spring The perfect blossom of Spring's coronal ! 36 PAN IN AMBUSH FIRST PUPIL Oh sir, I pray you hush ! POET Nay, ma'am, you need not blush ! A poet's rhapsodies are quite impersonal. {Makes a deep ceremonious boiu) FIRST PUPIL (Curtsies) Kind sir, I fear you'll think me a brazen jig, bold- faced To find me thus unchaperoned. Indeed, sir, I'm strait-laced. I have the genteel manners of a young girl in her teens, But teacher bade me stay here, for she asked what this means. This motto. 1 don't know and I don't know what to do, So might I make so bold then, kind sir, as to ask you? POET (Translating motto) "Only Love triumphs over time !" Trite, but oh, hov/ true Time will have done his worst with me, I'll be old When Love no more can terrorize and harm me. In the grave only will beauty leave me cold. I shall be dead when women cease to charm me. FIRST PUPIL Oh sir, you do — ^you really do alarm me I 37 PAN IN AMBUSH FAUN These females know a lover is perverse as their own shadows. Kun towards him and he flies — -iDut shrink from him and he follows. Now when a dryad would be kissed, observe she starts a-running, Then some faun is sure to chase her; dryads are very cunning. POET {To himself) Practical I need must be, there is much at stake. (To first pupil) 'Tis your custom, I think, with your schoolmates to take A brisk constitutional at noon round the lake. Now, if o'er the common I cross as you do, And spell-bound stand staring at Heaven's deep blue. And take off my hat (Lifts his hat high) as though awed by the view. Will your teacher suspect I am bowing to you? FIRST PUPIL Sir, my teacher is kind, but she's firm and she's set In her notions. Yes, teacher will fume and she'll fret At the least breach of manners of strict etiquette. But I'm her prize pupil, she is not too — too — Observant of me, so if then at the view You take off your hat, while I tie up my shoe Would then teacher suspect I am curtseying to you ? (Sinks down as though tying her shoe, and so drops a deep curtsey) 38 PAN IN AMBUSH FAUN Ah, we're all the same, be we white limbs or old bellwethers. Now, they call that making love — I call it fuss and feathers. POET Dear ma'am, forgive me pray, if unconventional I seem. But Fm a child of nature and each poet has his dream. In this chimeric interview, if my arm enlaced you. And bending down, I gently then, but firmly em- braced you. Now pray don't think me personal, but tell me what you'd do? FIRST PUPIL (Curtseying) Kind sir, I'll strive to answer, all untutored as I am. POET (Bowijig) A favourable answer will obleege, dear ma'am. FIRST PUPIL Kind sir, I fear you'll think me sadly backward for my age, Though I've read many poets from their first to their last page. I surmise what I've not felt might rouse my indig- nation. I might be very angry or blush like a carnation. You see I've not been kissed, and I've no imagination. 39 PAN IN AMBUSH POET (Bowing) Oh ma'am, you do malign yourself, I vow, I swear you do! FIRST PUPIL (Curtseying) You flatter me, kind sir, the facts I state are true. FAUN (Growing sulky and impatient He thinks this love making too formal) Now look at them bowing — now look at them scrap- ing? Now what are they playing at, what are they ape- ing? POET (More and more interested and animated) Dear ma'am, another problem — ^this quite hypo- thetical. Now supposing that I wrote you a note hysterical. Offering hand, heart, genius and a brewery that I Have lately bought in Dublin, would you leave me long to sigh ? FIRST PUPIL Sir, a written letter deserves a written prompt reply. POET (Boiving) Dear ma'am, I must apologize, with lovers you're besieged. FIRST PUPIL (Curtseijing) Oh no, dear sir, oh not at all, deeply obleeged. 40 PAN IN AMBUSH FAUN These mortal lovers talk so much, why I can't make out! Why don't they get on with it, and what's it all about? They love, why not be natural — jubilant with mirth? Why complicate the only sweet perfect thing on earth? POET (Very sentimental) Your eyes are of what color ? Blue ? Violet ? Nay, sacred grey? In compassion's name lift those long lashes — do not look away! So Laura seemed to Petrarch and so seemed Bea- trice to Dante. FAUN I could do with a bunch of grapes and a sunburnt Bacchante, Or perhaps a green mermaid effulgent from out of the sea Would be more to my taste — but really it is all one to me. Dark groves I know, where pale elves moon-mad may be trapped resorting; I'll sharpen my horns — make a wreath — ^tune my pipe and go courting. (The faun now makes his wreath and while he's doing so intones the following lyric, while the poet plucks the first pupil a nosegay which he gives her with a deep bow when the faun has finished his verses) 41 PAN IN AMBUSH FAUN Goodman Bacchus, he came And he said **It's a shame That a young faun should sober be. A big goat skin of wine Is yours fresh from the vine If my worshipper you will be V It was: Hie Bacchus! It was: Hoc Bacchus! Hiccupping came to me, But why should I trouble. To see the world double? And his worshipper Til not be ! Dame Venus at random Came driving a tandem Of doves, and she called to me "I from Paphos apace Come, for 'tis a disgrace That a young faun should mateless be. IVe a snug little lair And Fve just your affair If my worshipper you will be." Perfidious Venus! Insidious Venus! Venus, the Cyprian, came to me. Oh I fear your ire Fm flax to your fire, Venus, your worshipper Fll be! POET Could woman but be faithful 42 PAN IN AMBUSH FAUN Faithful! I've only heard Poor mortal lovers say that. Faithful ! Don't know the w^ord. POET (More and more ardent) And methinks she might be faithful, when I gaze on you, Sweet, white-muslined innocence, encircled with pure blue. I stand before you humbled, abashed, adoring, charmed ! {Surprised, his hand on his heart) What, blighted, disillusioned heart! Are you not dead — embalmed ? (Keeps his hand on his heart and consults himself in a rhapsody) FAUN Heart ! Peculiar human word ! But I know what it means A symbol I've seen carved on the oaks of village greens. Round like the ring of Eternity, but somewhat bent, Hearts are pointed at bottom, with at the top a dent. POET (Quite transported) Blessed romance! Divine Eros! Oh love, flail and torch of life ! 'Tis the old familiar turmoil — Dear ma'am, will you be my wife? FIRST PUPIL This is so — so very sudden! Oh surely 'twould be fitter 43 PAN IN AMBUSH To ask my kind teacher's advice. Oh Fm all of a twitter ! (They hold hands over the dial, whisper to each other; then they are silent) FAUN (Growing sentimental) I came into this garden when the moon was at its zenith, It was last night — yea, yesternight — ^that I over- leapt this wall. And my thoughts were full of longing and of Love's extreme desire. There was not a breeze a-breathing 'neath the star- bespangled pall. And I saw the flowers standing, pallid, wan with tense desire. There a far rose loved a rosebud just opening for a kiss! I forgot my thoughts of courting and blew the golden pollen Through the still, becalmed garden in the breathless night, like this ! (He waves his arms and whistles, imitating the wind) FIRST PUPIL There's no wind a-stirring, yet all the leaves tremble, Oh, but the world's a wonderful place ! POET Dear heart ! In our silence do you feel our thoughts meet, 44 PAN IN AMBUSH Suffuse together and embrace? (Kisses her) FIRST PUPIL I have loved you always before I knew you With each deep indrawn breath, my lover ! POET Oh, the time we've lost, would we'd met sooner ! May-tide is waning, Spring's almost over. (The poet and the first pupil wander into the bower R, The faun plays) FAUN 'Twill be a sweet propitious summer. Our benign Mother, dear Earth, stretches at ease Ah, the kind moon-drenched nights ! Ah, the young hearts to be engraved yet on the old oak trees ! (He plays as the curtain falls) 45 LIDMAMY OF CONGFfESS^ 018 407 440