(l^'-f THE SCARECROW THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK • BOSTON ■ CHICAGO ATLANTA ■ SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO., Limited LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA MELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. TORONTO THE SCARECROW OR THE GLASS OF TRUTH A Tragedy of the Ludicrous BY PERCY MACKAYE THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1908 All rights restrved lUBHARYofCONafiESS.f 1 Two Copies HetiJivjj ! f£Bl9 1908 OoHiii««H E.nir)( <5USSl> XXc. No. D i^ -, , COPY B. I -J •';;, -i ^ ^ ,-:>S Copyright, 1908, By the M ACM ill an COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped. Published February, 1908. This play has been copyrighted and published simultaneously in the United States and Great Britain. All acting rights, both professional and amateur, are reserved in the United States, Great Britain, and countries of the Copyright Union, by Percy MacKaye. Performances forbidden and right of representation reserved. Application for the right of performing this piece must be made to The Macmillan Company. Any piracy or infringement Vk'ill be prosecuted in accordance with the penalties provided by the United States Statutes: — " Sec. 4966. — Any person publicly performing or representing any dramatic or musical composition, for which copyright has been obtained, without the consent of the proprietor of the said dramatic or musical composition, or his heirs or assigns, shall be liable for damages therefor, such damages in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dollars for every subse- quent performance, as to the Court shall appear to be just. If the unlawful perform- ance and representation be wilful and for profit, such person or persons shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction be imprisoned for a period not exceed- ing one year," U. S. Revised Statutes, Title 60, Chap. 3. NorS»Dotj ^reag J. S. Gushing Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. ^0 MY MOTHER IN MEMORY OF AUSPICIOUS " COUNTINGS OF THE CROWS " BY OLD NEW ENGLAND CORN-FIELDS PREFACE But for a fantasy of Nathaniel Hawthorne, this play, of course, would never have been written. In " Mosses from an Old Manse," the Moralized Legend " Feathertop " relates, in some twenty pages of its author's inimitable style, how Mother Rigby, a re- puted witch of old New England days, 'converted a corn-patch scarecrow into the semblance of a fine gentleman of the period; how she despatched this semblance to " play its part in the great world, where not one man in a hundred, she affirmed, was gifted with more real substance than itself " ; how there the scarecrow, while paying court to pretty Polly Gookin, the rosy, simpering daughter of Justice Gookin, dis- covered its own image in a looking-glass, returned to Mother Rigby 's cottage, and dissolved into its original elements. My indebtedness, therefore, to this source, in undertaking the present play, goes without saying. Yet it would not be true, either to Hawthorne's work or my own, to classify "The Scarecrow" as a drama- tization of " Feathertop." Were it intended to be such, the many radical departures from the concep- tion and the treatment of Hawthorne which are evi- dent in the present work would have to be regarded as so many unwarrantable liberties taken with its X PREFACE original material ; the function of the play itself would, in such case, become purely formal, — trans- lative of a narrative to its appropriate dramatic form, — and as such, however interesting and commendable an effort, would have lost all raison d'etre for the writer. But such, I may say, has not been my intention. My aim has been quite otherwise. Starting with the same basic theme, I have sought to elaborate it, by my own treatment, to a different and more inclusive issue. Without particularizing here the full substance of Hawthorne's consummate sketch, which is available to every reader, the divergence I refer to may be summed up briefly. The scarecrow Feathertop of Hawthorne is the imaginative epitome or symbol of human charlatanism, with special emphasis upon the coxcombry of fashion- able society. In his essential superficiality he is characterized as a fop, " strangely self-satisfied," with "nobby little nose thrust into the air." "And many a fine gentleman," says Mother Rigby, " has a pump- kin-head as well as my scarecrow." His hollow semblance is the shallowness of a " well-digested conventionalism, which had incorporated itself thor- oughly with his substance and transformed him into a work of art." " But the clothes in this case were to be the making of the man," and so Mother Rigby, after fitting him out in a suit of embroidered finery, endows him as a finishing touch " with a great deal of brass, which she appHed to his forehead, thus PREFACE xi making it yellower than before. ' With that brass alone,' quoth she, * thou canst pay thy way all over the earth.' " Similarly, the other characters are sketched by Hawthorne in accord with this general conception. Pretty Polly Gookin, "tossing her head and manag- ing her fan" before the mirror, views therein "an unsubstantial little maid that reflected every gesture and did all the foolish things that Polly did, but without making her ashamed of them. In short, it was the fault of pretty Polly's ability, rather than her will, if she failed to be as complete an artifice as the illustrious Feathertop himself." Thus the Mot'alised Legend rQVQzXs, itself as a satire upon a restricted artificial phase of society. As such, it runs its brief course, with all the poetic charm and fanciful suggestiveness of our great New Englander's prose style, to its appropriate dejtoiiement, — the dis- integration of its hero. " ' My poor, dear, pretty Feathertop,' quoth Mother Rigby, with a rueful glance at the reUcs of her ill- fated contrivance, 'there are thousands upon thou- sands of coxcombs and charlatans in the world made up of just such a jumble of worn-out, forgotten, and good-for-nothing trash as he was, yet they live in fair repute and never see themselves for what they are. And why should my poor puppet be the only one to know himself and perish for it .'' ' " Coxcombry and charlatanism, then, are the butt of Plawthorne's satire in his Legend. The nature of his theme, however, is susceptible of an application xii PREFACE far less restricted, a development far more universal, than such satire. This wider issue once or twice in his sketch he seems to have touched upon, only immediately to ignore again. Thus, in the very last paragraph, Mother Rigby exclaims : " Poor Feather- top ! I could easily give him another chance and send him forth again to-morrow. But no ! His feelings are too tender — Ids sensibilities too deepy In these words, spoken in irony, Hawthorne ends his narrative with an undeveloped aspect of his theme, which constitutes the starting-point of the con- ception of my play : the aspect, namely, of the essen- tial tragedy of tJie ludicrous ; an aspect which, in its development, inevitably predicates for my play a divergent treatment and a different conclusion. The element of human sympathy is here substituted for that of irony, as criterion of the commxon absurdity of mankind. The scarecrow Feathertop is ridiculous, as the emblem of a superficial fop ; the scarecrow Ravens- bane is pitiful, as the emblem of human bathos. Compared with our own ideas of human perfection, what human rubbish we are ! Of what incongruous elements are we constructed by time and inheritance wherewith to realize the reasonableness, the power, the altruism, of our dreams ! What absurdity is our highest consummation ! Yet the sense of our com- mon deficiency is, after all, our salvation. There is one reality which is a basic hope for the realization of those dreams. This sense is human sympathy, which is, it would seem, a more searching critic of PREFACE xiii human frailty than satire. It is the growth of this sense which dowers with dignity and reahty the hollowest and most ludicrous of mankind, and be- comes in such a fundamental grace of character. In a recent critical interpretation of Cervantes' great work, Professor G. E. Woodberry writes : " A madman has no character ; but it is the character of Don Quixote that at last draws the knight out of all his degradations and makes him triumph in the heart of the reader." And he continues: " Modern dismay begins in the thought that here is not the abnormality of an individual, but the madness of the soul in its own nature." If for " madness " in this quotation I may be per- mitted to substitute liidicroitsness (or hicongniity\ a more felicitous expression of my meaning, as applied to Ravensbane in this play, would be diffi- cult to devise. From what has been said, it will, I trust, be the more clearly apparent why " The Scarecrow " cannot with any appropriateness be deemed a dramatization of " Feathertop," and why its manifold divergencies from the latter in treatment and motive cannot with any just significance be considered as liberties taken with an original source. Dickon, for example, whose name in the Legend is but a momentary invocation in the mouth of Mother Rigby, becomes in my play not merely the characterized visible associate of Goody Rickby ("Blacksmith Bess"), but the neces- sary foil of sceptical irony to the human growth of the scarecrow. So, too, for reasons of the play's xiv PREFACE different intent, Goody Rickby herself is differen- tiated from Mother Rigby; and Rachel Merton has no motive, of character or artistic design, in common with pretty, affected Polly Gookin. My indebtedness to the New England master in literature is, needless to say, gratefully acknow- ledged ; but it is fitting, I think, to distinguish clearly between the aim and the scope of " Feathertop " and that of the play in hand, as much in deference to the work of Hawthorne as in comprehension of the spirit of my own. P. M-K. Cornish, New Hampshire, December, 1907. DRAMATIS PERSONS JUSTICE GILEAD MERTON. GOODY RICKEY (" Blacksinith Bess ") . LORD RAVENSBANE ( " Marquis of Oxford, Baron of Wit- tefiberg, Elector of Worms, and Count of Cordova''"'), their hypothetical son . DICKON, a Yankee improvisation of the Prince of Darkness. RACHEL MERTON, niece of the fustice. MISTRESS CYNTHIA MY.RTON, sister of the fiistice. RICHARD TALBOT, Esquire, betrothed to Rachel. SIR CHARLES REDDINGTON, Lieutenant Governor. MISTRESS REDDINGTON),. ^ ,, ^ ms daughters. AMELIA REDDINGTON J CAPTAIN BUGBY, the Governor's Secretary. MINISTER DODGE. MISTRESS DODGE, his wife. REV. MASTER RAND, of Harvard College. REV. MASTER TODD, of Harvard College. MICAH, a servant of the ftistice. Time. — Late Seventeenth Centicry. Place. — A town in Massachusetts. ACT I ACT I The interior of a blacksmith shop. Right centre, a forge. Left, a loft, from which are hanging dried cornstalks, hay, and the yelloiv ears of cattle-corn. Back centre, a wide doicble door, closed when the curtain rises. Through this door — wheti later it is opened — is visible a New Englaiid landscape in the late springtime : a distant wood; stone walls, high elms, a well-sweep ; and, in the ?iear foreground, a ploughed field, from which the green shoots of early corn a7-e fust appearing. The blackened walls of the shop are covered with a miscel- la?ieous collection of old iron, horseshoes, cart wheels, etc., the usual appurtenances of a smithy. In the right- hand corner, however, is an array of things quite out of keeping with the shop proper: musical instruments, puppets, tall clocks, and fantastical fiink. Conspicuous amongst these articles is a large standing mirror, framed grotesquely in old gold and curtained by a dull stuff, embroidered with peaked caps and crescent moons. fust before the scene opens, a hammer is heard ringing briskly upon steel. As the curtain rises there is dis- covered, standing at the anvil in the flickering light of a bright flame from the fotge, a woman — powerful, ruddy, proud with a certain masteiful beauty, white- haired {as though prematurely), bare-armed to the elbows, clad in a dark skirt {above her ankles'), a loose blouse, open at the throat ; a leathern apron and a workman^ s cap. The woman is Goody Rickby. On the a?ivil she is shaping a piece of iron. Beside her stands a 3 THE SCARECROW framework of iron formed like the ribs and backbone of a 7nan. For a few moments she continues to ply her hammer, amid a shower of sparks, till suddenly the flatne on the forge dies down. GOODY RICKEY Dickon ! More flame. A VOICE \_Above her.'] Yea, Goody. \The flame in the forge spurts up high and suddenly.'] GOODY RICKEY Nay, not so fierce. THE VOICE \_At her side.'] Voire pardon, madanie. \The flame subsides.] Is that better } GOODY RICKEY That will do. \_With her to?igs, she thrusts the iron into the flattie ; it turns white-hot.] Quick work ; nothing like brimstone for the smithy trade. \At the anvil, she begins to iveld the iron rib on to the framework.] There, my beauty ! We'll make a stout set of ribs for you. I'll see to it this year that I have a scare- THE SCARECROW 5 crow can outstand all the nor'easters that blow. I've no notion to lose my corn-crop this summer. [ Outside, the faint cawings of crows are heard. Putting down her tongs and hammer, Goody Rickby strides to the double door, atid flinging it wide open, lets in the gray light of dawn. She looks out over the fields and shakes her fist.'\ So ye're up before me and the sun, are ye? \_Squinting against the light.'] There's one ! Nay, two. Aha ! One for sorrow, Two for mirth — Good ! This time we'll have the laugh on our side. \_She returns to the forge, where again the fire has died out."] Dickon ! Fire ! Come, come, where be thy wits ? THE VOICE \_Sleepily from the forge.] 'Tis early, dame. GOODY RICKBY The more need — [Takes up her tongs.] THE VOICE \_Sereams.] Ow! GOODY RICKBY Ha ! Have I got thee ? 6" THE SCARECROW \_From the blackness of the forge she pulls out with her tongs, by the right ear, the figure of a devil, horned and tailed. In general aspect, though he resembles a medice- val familiar demon, yet the suggestions of a goatish beard, a shrewdly humorous smile, and (when he speaks') the slightest of nasal drawls, remotely simulate a species of Yankee rustic. Goody Rickby substitutes her fingers for the tongs7\ Now, Dickon ! DICKON Dens ! I haven't been nabbed like that since St. Dunstan tweaked my nose. Well, sweet Goody ? GOODY RICKBY The bellows ! DICKON \_Going slowly to the forge. "^ Why, 'tis hardly dawn yet. Honest folk^ are still abed. It makes a long day. GOODY RICKBY [ Working, while Dickon plies the bellows?^ Aye, for your black pets, the crows, to work in. That's why I'm at it early. You heard 'em. We must have this scarecrow of ours out in the field at his post before sunrise. \_Finishing.'\ So, there ! Now, Dickon boy, I want that you should — DICKON [ Whipping out a note-book and writing.'] Wait! Another one! "I want that you should — " THE SCARECROW 7 GOODY RICKEY What's that you're writing? DICKON The phrase, Goody clear ; the construction. Your New England dialect is hard for a poor cosmopolitan devil. What with nt clauses in English and Latin- ized subjunctives — You want that I should — Well? GOODY RICKEY Make a masterpiece. I've made the frame strong, so as to stand the weather; yo7i must make the body lifelike so as to fool the crows. Last year I stuck up a poor sham and after a day they saw through it. This time, we must make 'em think it's a real human crittur. DICKON To fool the philosophers is my specialty, but the crows — hm ! GOODY RICKEY Pooh ! That staggers thee ! DICKON Madame Rickby, prod not the quick of my genius. I am Phidias, I am Raphael, I am the Lord God ! — You shall see — \I)emands with a gesture^ Yonder broom-stick. GOODY RICKEY \Fetching him a broom from the corner. '\ Good boy ! 8 THE SCARECROW DICKON \Straddling the handle.'\ Haha ! gee up ! my Salem mare. \Then, pseudo-philosophically^ A broomstick — that's for imagination ! \_He begins to construct the scarecrow, while Goody Richby, assisting, brings the constructive parts from various nooks and corners.'} We are all pretty artists, to be sure, Bessie. Phid- ias, he sculptures the gods ; Raphael, he paints the angels ; the Lord God, he creates Adam ; and Dickon — fetch me the poker — aha ! Dickon ! What doth Dickon ? He nullifies 'em all ; he endows the Scare- crow ! — A poker : here's his conscience. There's two fine legs to walk on, — imagination and conscience. Yonder flails now ! The ideal — the bean- ideal, dame — that's what we artists seek. The apotheosis of scarecrows ! And pray, what's a scarecrow } Why, the antithesis of Adam. — " Let there be candles ! " quoth the Lord God, sitting in the dark. " Let there be candle-extinguishers," saith Dickon. " I am made in the image of my maker," quoth Adam. " Look at yourself in the glass," saith Good- man Scarecrow. \Taking two implements from Goody Rickby.'\ Fine ! fine ! here are flails — one for wit, t'other for satire. Sapristi ! with two such arms, my lad, how thou wilt work thy way in the world ! THE SCARECROW GOODY RICKEY You talk as if you were making a real mortal, Dickon. DICKON To fool a crow, Goody, I must fashion a crittur that will first deceive a man. GOODY RICKEY He'll scarce do that without a head. [^Pointing to the loft.'] What think ye of yonder Jack-o'-lantern ? 'Twas made last Hallowe'en, DICKON Rare, my Psyche ! We shall collaborate. Here ! \_Running up the ladder, he tosses down a yellow hollowed pumpkin to Goody Rickby, who catches it. Then rummaging forth an armful of cornstalks, ears, tasseh, dried squashes, gourds, beets, etc., he descends and throws them in a heap on the floor.] Whist! the anatomy. GOODY RICKBY \_Placing the pumpkin o?i the shoulders.] Look! DICKON O Johannes Baptista ! What wouldst thou have given for such a head ! I helped Salome to cut his off, dame, and it looked not half so appetizing on her charger. Tut! Copernicus wore once such a pump- 10 THE SCARECROW kin, but it is rotten. Look at his golden smile ! Hail, Phoebus Apollo ! GOODY RICKEY 'Tis the finest scarecrow in town. DICKON Nay, poor soul, 'tis but a skeleton yet. He must have a man's heart in him. \_Picking a big red beet from among the cornstalks, he places it under the left side of the ribsr^ Hush ! Dost thou hear it beat ? GOODY RICKEY Thou merry rogue! DICKON Now for the lungs of him. \_Snatching a small pair of bellows from a peg on the wall J^ That's for eloquence ! He'll preach the black knaves a sermon on theft. And now — \^Here, with Goody Rickby's help, he stuffs the framework with the gourds, corn, etc., from the loft, weaving the husks about the legs and arms.'] here goes for digestion and inherited instincts ! More corn, Goody. Now he'll fight for his 'own flesh and blood ! GOODY RICKEY [^Lai/ghing.'] Dickon, I am proud of thee. THE SCARECROW II DICKON Wait till you see his peruke. \_Seizing a feather duster made of crow's feathers. '\ Void ! Scalps of the enemy ! \_Pulling them apart, he arranges the feathers on the pump- kin, like a gentleman'' s wig.^ A rare conqueror ! GOODY RICKEY Oh, you beauty ! DICKON And now a bit of comfort for dark days and stormy nights. \_Taking a piece of corn-cob with the kernels on it, Dickon makes a pipe, which he puts into the scarecrow's mouth. ~\ So ! There, Goody ! I tell thee, with yonder brand- new coat and breeches of mine — those there in my cupboard ! — we'll make him a lad to be proud of. \_Taking the clothes, which Goody Rickby brings — a pair of fine scat-let breeches and a gold-embroidered coat with ruffles of lace — he puts them upon the scarecro70. Then, eying it like a comioisseur, makes a few finishing touches^ Why, dame, he'll be a son to thee. GOODY RICKBY A son } Ay, if I had but a son ! 12 THE SCARECROW DICKON Why, here you have him, \To the scarecrow. '\ Thou wilt scare the crows off thy mother's corn- field — won't my pretty? And send 'em all over t'other side the wall — to her dear neighbour's, the Justice Gilead Merton's. GOODY RICKEY Justice Merton! Nay, if they'd only peck his eyes out, instead of his corn. DICKON [ Grinning.~\ Yet the Justice was a dear friend of " Blacksmith Bess." GOODY RICKEY Ay, " Blacksmith Bess ! " If I hadn't had a good stout arm when he cast me off with the babe, I might have starved for all his worship cared. DICKON True, Bessie ; 'twas a scurvy trick he played on thee — and on me, that took such pains to bring you together — to steal a young maid's heart -.— GOODY RICKEY And then toss it away like a bad penny to the gut- ter ! And the child — to die ! \_Lifting her hammer in rage.'] THE SCARECROW 1 3 Ha ! if I could get the worshipful Justice Gilead into my power again — \Dr-ops the hammer sullenly on the anvil.~\ But no ! I shall beat my life away on this anvil, whilst my justice clinks his gold, and drinks his port to a fat old age. Justice ! Ha — justice of God ! DICKON Whist, dame ! Talk of angels and hear the rustle of their relatives. GOODY RICKEY \_Turnvig, watches outside a girl's figure approaching.'] His niece — Rachel Merton! What can she want so early .? Nay, I mind me ; 'tis the mirror. She's a maid after our own hearts, boy, — no Sabbath-go-to- meeting airs about her ! She hath read the books of the magi from cover to cover, and paid me good guineas for 'em, though her uncle knows naught on't. Besides, she's in love, Dickon. DICKON \_Indicating the scarecrow^ Ah .'' With him ? Is it a rendezvous? GOODY RICKEY \_With a laugh.'\ Pff ! Begone ! DICKON [^Shakes his finger at the scarecro7a.] Thou naughty rogue ! 14 THE SCARECROW \_Then, still smiling slyly, with his head placed confidentially next to the scarecrow' s ear, as if whispering, and with his hand pointing to the 7naiden outside, Dickon fades away into air. Rachel enters, nervous and hesitant. Goody Rickby makes her a courtesy, which she acknow- ledges by a nod, half absent-minded.'\ GOODY RICKBY Mistress Rachel Merton — so early ! I hope your uncle, our worshipful Justice, is not ill ? RACHEL No, my uncle is quite well. The early morning suits me best for a walk. You are — quite alone ? GOODY RICKBY Quite alone, mistress. [^Bitterly.'] Oh, folks don't call on Goody Rickby — except on business. RACHEL [^Absently, looking round in the dim shop.'] Yes — you must be busy. Is it — is it here .-' GOODY RICKBY You mean the — RACHEL \_Starting back, with a cry."] Ah ! who's that ? GOODY RICKBY [ Chuckling.'] Fear not, mistress ; 'tis nothing but a scarecrow. THE SCARECROW 1 5 I'm going to put him in my corn-field yonder. The crows are so pesky this year. RACHEL \^Draws her skirts away with a shiver.'] How loathsome! GOODY RICKEY [ Vastly pleased.] He'll do ! RACHEL Ah, here ! — This is the mirror } GOODY RICKEY Yea, mistress, and a wonderful glass it is, as I told you. I wouldn't sell it to most comers, but seeing how you and Master Talbot — RACHEL Yes ; that will do. GOODY RICKEY You see, if the town folks guessed what it was, well — You've heard tell of the gibbets on Salem hill .'' There's not many in New England like you. Mistress Rachel. You know enough to approve some miracles — outside the Scriptures. RACHEL You are quite sure the glass will do all you say ? It — never fails .'' 1 6 THE SCARECROW GOODY RICKEY Ay, now, mistress, how could it ? 'Tis the glass of truth — [insinuatingly'] the glass of true lovers. It shows folks just as they are ; no shams, no var- nish. If your sweetheart be false, the glass will re- veal it. If a wolf should dress himself in a white sheep's wool, this glass would reflect the black beast inside it. RACHEL But what of the sins of the soul. Goody ? Vanity, hypocrisy, and — and inconstancy ? Will it surely reveal them ? GOODY RICKEY I have told you, my young lady. If it doth not as I say, bring it back and get your money again. Trust me, sweeting, 'tis your only mouse-trap for a man. Why, an old dame hath eyes in her heart yet. If your lover be false, this glass shall pluck his fine feathers ! RACHEL [ With aloofness.] 'Tis no question of that. I wish the glass to — to amuse me. GOODY RICKEY [Lazighing.] Why, then, it shall amuse you. Try it on some of your neighbours. RACHEL You ask a large price for it. THE SCARECROW 1 7 GOODY RICKEY \_Shrugs^ I run risks. Besides, where will you get another ? RACHEL That is true. Here, I will buy it. That is the sum you mentioned, I believe ? \_She hands a purse to Goody Rickby, who opens it atid counts over some coi7is.~\ GOODY RICKEY Let see; let see. RACHEL Well.? GOODY RICKEY Good : 'tis good. Folks call me a witch, mistress. Well — harkee — a witch's word is as good as a justice's gold. The glass is yours — with my bless- ing. RACHEL spare yourself that, dame. But the glass : how ami to get it ? How will you send it to me — quietly ? GOODY RICKEY Trust me for that. I've a willing lad that helps me with such errands ; a neighbour o' mine. Ebenezer ! RACHEL \^Startled.'\ What ! is he here 'i 1 8 THE SCARECROW GOODY RICKEY In the hay-loft. The boy's an orphan; he sleeps there o' times. Ebenezer! \_A raiv, dishevelled country boy appears in the loft, slides down the ladder, and shuffles up sleepily. 1 THE BOY Evenin'. RACHEL \_D rawing Goody Rickby aside. '\ You understand; I desire no comment about this purchase. GOODY RICKBY Nor I, mistress, be sure. RACHEL Ishe — .? GOODY RICKBY \Tapping her forehead significantly.'] Trust his wits who hath no wit ; he's mum. RACHEL Oh! THE BOY [ Gaping.'] Job? GOODY RICKBY Yea, rumple-head ! His job this morning is to bear yonder glass to the house of Justice Merton — the big one on the hill ; to the side door. Mind, no gabbing. Doth he catch .-' THE SCARECROW 1 9 THE BOY \Nodding and grinntng.'\ 'E swallows. RACHEL But is the boy strong enough ? GOODY RICKEY Him? \Pointing to the anvil.'\ Ebenezer ! [ The boy spits on his palms, takes hold of the anvil, lifts it, drops it again, sits on it, and grins at the door, just as Richard Talbot appears the7'e,from outside. '\ RACHEL Gracious ! GOODY RICKEY Trust him. He'll carry the glass for you. RACHEL I will return home at once, then. Let him go quietly to the side door, and wait for me. Good morning. \Turning, she cotifronts Richard^ RICHARD Good morning. RACHEL Richard ! — Squire Talbot, you — you are abroad early. 20 THE SCARECROW RICHARD As early as Mistress Rachel. Is it pardonable? I caught sight of you walking in this direction, so I thought it wise to follow, lest — \_Looks hard at Goody Rtckby.'] RACHEL Very kind. Thanks. I've done my errand. Well ; we can return together. ITo Goody Rickby:\ You will make sure .that I receive the — the article. GOODY RICKEY Trust me, mistress. [ Courtesyiftg.'] Squire Talbot ! the honour, sir ! RICHARD \_Bluntiy, looking from one to the other."] What article ? \^Rachel ignores the question and starts to pass out. Rich- ard frowns at Goody Rickby, who stammers^ GOODY RICKBY Begging your pardon, sir } THE SCARECROW 21 RICHARD What article ? I said. \_After a short, embarrassed pause : more sternly^ Well? GOODY RICKEY Oh, the article ! Yonder old glass, to be sure, sir. A quaint piece, your honour, RICHARD Rachel, you haven't come here at sunrise to buy — that thing } RACHEL Verily, "that thing" and at sunrise. A pretty time for a pretty purchase. Are you coming ? RICHARD [/« a low voice.~\ More witchcraft nonsense .'' Do you realize this is serious ? RACHEL Oh, of course. You know I am desperately mysti- cal, so pray let us not discuss it. Good-by. RICHARD Rachel, just a moment. If you want a mirror, you shall have the prettiest one in New England. Or I will import you one from London. Only — I beg of you — don't buy stolen goods. 22 THE SCARECROW GOODY RICKEY Stolen goods ? RACHEL \_Aside to RichardT^ Don't! don't! RICHARD At least, articles under suspicion. \_To Goody Rickby.'] Can you account for this mirror — how you came by it ? GOODY RICKEY I'll show ye ! I'll show ye ! Stolen — ha ! RICHARD Come, old swindler, keep your mirror, and give this lady back her money. GOODY RICKEY I'll damn ye both, I will ! — Stolen I RACHEL \_Implonngfy.'] Will you come ? RICHARD Look you, old Rickby ; this is not the first time. Charm all the broomsticks in town, if you like ; bewitch all the tables and saucepans and mirrors you please ; but gull no more money out of young girls. THE SCARECROW 23 Mind you ! We're not so enterprising in this town as at Salem ; but — it may come to it ! So look sharp ! I'm not bHnd to what's going on here. GOODY RICKEY Not bUnd, Master Puritan ? Oho ! You can see through all my counterfeits, can ye ? So ! you would scrape all the wonder out'n the world, as I've scraped all the meat out'n my punkin-head yonder ! Aha ! wait and see ! Afore sundown, I'll send ye a nut to crack, shall make your orthodox jaws ache. Your servant. Master Deuteronomy ! RICHARD \_To Rachel, who has seized his arm.'] We'll go. \_Exeunt Richard and Rachel.] GOODY RICKEY [ Calls shrilly after them.] Trot away, pretty team ; toss your heads. I'll un- hitch ye and take off your blinders. THE SLOUCHING BOY \_Capenng and grimacing in front of the mirror, shrieks with laughter.] Ohoho ! 24 THE SCARECROW GOODY RICKEY \_Re turning, savagely.'] Yes, yes, my fine lover ! I'll pay thee for " stolen goods" — I'll pay thee. [Screams.] Dickon ! Stop laughing. THE BOY O Lord ! O Lord ! GOODY RICKEY What tickles thy mirth now ? THE BOY For to think as the soul of an orphan innocent, what lives in a hay-loft, should wear horns. [^On looking into the mirror, the spectator perceives therein that the reflection of the slouching boy is the horned- demon figure of Dickon, who performs the satne antics in pantomime within the glass as the boy does without.] GOODY RICKEY Yea ; 'tis a wise devil that knows his own face in the glass. But hark now ! Thou must find me a rival for this cock-squire, — dost hear } A rival, that shall steal away the heart of his Mistress Rachel. DICKON And take her to church .-' THE SCARECROW 2$ GOODY RICKEY To church or to Hell. All's one. DICKON A rival ! \^Poiniing at the glass. '\ How would Jie serve — in there ? Dear Ebenezer ! Fancy the deacons in the vestry, Goody, and her uncle, the Justice, when they saw him escorting the bride to the altar, with his tail round her waist ! GOODY RICKEY Tut, tut ! Think it over in earnest, and meantime take her the glass. Wait, we'd best fold it up small, so as not to attract notice on the road. \_Dickon, who has already drawn the curtaifis over the glass, grasps one side of the large frame. Goody Rickby the other. '\ Now! \_Pushing their shoulders against the tivo sides, the frame disappears and Dickon holds in his hatid a mirror about a foot square, of the sayne design. "^ So ! Be off ! And mind, a rival for Richard ! DICKON For Richard a rival, Dear Goody Rickby Wants Dickon's connival : Lord ! What can the trick be "i 26 THE SCARECROW \To the scarecrow.'] By-by, Sonny ; take care of thy mother. \Dickon slouches out with the glass, whistling!] GOODY RICKEY Motlier ! Yea, if only I had a son — the Jus- tice Merton's and mine ! If the brat had but lived now to remind him of those merry days, which he has forgotten. Zooks, wouldn't I put a spoke in his wheel ! But no such luck for me ! No such luck ! \_As she goes to the forge, the stout figure of a man appears in the doorway behind her. Under one arm he carries a large book, in the other hand a gold-headed cane. He hesitates, embarrassed.] THE MAN Permit me, Madam. GOODY RICKEY [ Turning.] Ah, him ! — Justice Merton ! JUSTICE MERTON \_Removing his hat, steps over the sill, and lays his great book on the table ; then with a supercilious look, he puts his hat firmly on again.] Permit me, dame. THE SCARECROW 2/ GOODY RICKEY You! [ With confused, affected hauteur, the Justice shifts from foot to foot, flourishing his cane. As he speaks, Goody Rickby, with a shrewd, painful expression, draws slowly backward toward the door left, which opens into an inner room. Reaching it, she opens it part tvay, stands faci Jig him, and listens^ JUSTICE MERTON I have had the honour — permit me — to entertain suspicions ; to rise early, to follow my niece, to meet just now Squire Talbot, an excellent young gentle- man of wealth, if not of fashion ; to hear his remarks concerning — hem ! — you, dame ! to call here — permit me — to express myself and inquire — GOODY RICKEY Concerning your waistcoat ? \_Turning quickly, she snatches an article of apparel which hangs on the inner side of the door, and holds it up.~\ Woman ! JUSTICE MERTON [Starting, crimson.^ GOODY RICKBY You left it behind — the last time. JUSTICE MERTON I have not the honour to remember ■ 28 THE SCARECROW GOODY RICKEY The one I embroidered ? JUSTICE MERTON 'Tis a matter — GOODY RICKEY Of some two and twenty years. [^Stretching out the narrow width of the waistcoat.'\ Will you try it on now, dearie ? JUSTICE MERTON Unconscionable! Un-un-unconscionable witch! GOODY RICKEY Witchling — thou used to say. JUSTICE MERTON Pah ! pah ! I forget myself. Pride, permit me, goeth before a fall. As a magistrate, Rickby, I have already borne with you long I The last straw, how- ever, breaks the camel's back. GOODY RICKEY Poor camel ! JUSTICE MERTON You have soiled, you have smirched, the virgin reputation of my niece. You have inveigled her into notions of witchcraft ; already the neighbours are beginning to talk. 'Tis a long lane which hath no turning, saith the Lord. Permit me — as a witch, thou art judged. Thou shalt hang. THE SCARECROW 29 A VOICE [Behind him.'\ And me too ? JUSTICE MERTON [^Turns about and stares^ I beg pardon. THE VOICE \In front of him ^ Not at all. JUSTICE MERTON Did — did somebody speak .-• THE VOICE Don't you recognize my voice } Still and small, you know. If you will kindly let me out, we can chat. JUSTICE MERTON [Turning fiercely on Goody RickbyJ] These are thy sorceries. But I fear them not. The righteous man walketh with God. [Going to the book which lies on the table. '\ Satan, I ban thee ! I will read from the Holy Scriptures ! [Unclasping the Bible, he flings open the ponderous covers. — Dickon steps forth iti smoke. '\ DICKON Thanks ; it was stuffy in there. 30 THE SCARECROW JUSTICE MERTON [ Claspi7ig his hands.'] Dickon ! DICKON \_Moving a step nearer on the table.'] Hillo, Gilly ! Hillo, Bess ! JUSTICE MERTON Dickon ! No ! No ! DICKON Do ye mind Auld Lang Syne — the chorus that night, Gilly ? \_Sings.] Gil-ead, Gil-ead, Gil-ead Merton, He was a silly head, silly head, Certain, When he forgot to steal a bed- Curtain ! Encore, now ! JUSTICE MERTON No, no, be merciful! I will not harm her; she shall not hang : I swear, I swear it ! \_Dickon disappears.] I swear — ah! Is he gone? Witchcraft! Witch- craft ! I have witnessed it. 'Tis proved on thee, slut. I swear it : thou shalt hang, \Exit wildly^ THE SCARECROW 3 1 GOODY RICKEY Ay, Gilead ! I shall hang on ! Ahaha ! Dickon, thou angel ! Ah, Satan ! Satan ! For a son now ! DICKON \Reappea ring. ] Videlicet^ in law — a bastard. N'est ce pas ? GOODY RICKEY Yea, in law and in justice, I should-a had one now. Worse luck that he died. DICKON One and twenty years ago .-• \_Goody Rickby nods.'] Good ; he should be of age now. One and twenty — a pretty age, too, for a rival. Haha ! — For arrival .-' — Marry, he shall arrive, then ; arrive and marry and inherit his patrimony — all on his birthday ! Come, to work ! GOODY RICKEY What rant is this .'' DICKON Yet, Dickon, it pains me to perform such an an- achronism. All this" Mediaevalism in Massachusetts ! — These old-fashioned flames and alchemic accom- paniments, when Fve tried so hard to be a native American product ; it jars. But che vjwle ! I'm naturally middle-aged. I haven't been really myself, let me think, — since 1492 ! 32 THE SCARECROW GOODY RICKEY What art thou mooning about ? DICKON \Still impenetrable r^ There was my old friend in Germany, Dr. Johann Faustus; he was nigh such a bag of old rubbish when I made him over. Ain't it trite ! No, you can't teach an old dog like me new tricks. Still, a scare- crow ! that's decidedly local color. Come then ; a Yankee masterpiece ! \Seizing Goody Rickby by the arm, and placing her before the scarecrow, he makes a bow and wave of introduction. '\ Behold, madam, your son — illegitimate; the fu- ture affianced of Mistress Rachel Merton, the heir- elect, through matrimony, of Merton House, — Gilead Merton second ; Lord Ravensbane ! Your lordship — your mother. GOODY RICKEY Dickon ! Can you do it ? DICKON I can — try. GOODY RICKBY You will create him for me .-* — [ Wickedly.'] and for Gilead ! DICKON I will — for a kiss. Dickon ! THE SCARECROW 33 GOODY RICKEY \_About to embrace him.'\ DICKON \_Dodging her."] Later. Now, the waistcoat. GOODY RICKEY \Handing //.] Rare ! rare ! He shall go wooing in't — like his father. DICKON \_Shifting the scarecrow's gold-trimmed coat, slips on the embroidered waistcoat and replaces the coat.'\ Stand still, Jack ! So, my macaroni. Perfecto ! Stay — a walking-stick ! ' GOODY RICKEY [ Wrenching a spoke out of an old rickety wheel.'] Here : the spoke for Gilead. He used to take me to drive in the chaise it came out of. DICKON \_Placing the spoke as a cane, in the scarecrow's sleeve, views him with satisf action. '\ Sic ! There, Jacky ! Filiiis fit non nascitnr. — Sam Hill ! My Latin is stale. " In the beginning, was the — gourd ! " Of these thy modest ingredients may thy spirit smack ! 34 THE SCARECROW \_Makijig various mystic passes with his hands, Dickoft in- tones, nozv deep and solemn, now with fanciful shrill rapidity, this incantation .-] Flail, flip; Broom, sweep ; Sic itur ! Cornstalk And turnip, talk ! Turn crittur ! Pulse, beet ; Gourd, eat ; Ave Hellas ! Poker and punkin. Stir the old junk in : Breathe, bellows ! Corn-cob, And crow's feather, End the job : Jumble the rest o' the rubbish together ; Dovetail and tune 'em. E pluribiis lunivi ! \The scarecrow remains stock still.'\ The devil ! Have I lost the hang of it ? Ah ! Hullo ! He's dropped his pipe. What's a dandy without his 'baccy ! \Restoring the corn-cob pipe to the scarecrow's 7nouth.~\ 'Tis the life and breath of him. So ; hand me yon hazel switch, Goody. THE SCARECROW 35 [ Waving //,] Presto ! Brighten, coal, r the dusk between us ! Whiten, soul ! Propmqtni Vemts ! \_A whiff of sttioke puffs from the scarecrow's pipe^ Sic ! Sic ! Jacobus ! \_Anotlier whiff. '\ Bravo ! \The whiffs grow more rapid and the thing trembles^ GOODY RICKEY Puff ! puff, manny, for thy life ! DICKON Fiat, fcetiis ! — Huzza ! Noch einmal! Go it ! \_Clouds of smoke issue from the pipe, half fill the shop, and envelop the creature, who staggers. *\ GOODY RICKEY See ! See his eyes ! * Here the living actor, through a trap, concealed by the smoke, will substitute himself for the elegantly clad effigy. His make-up, of course, will approximate to the latter, but the grotesque contours of his expression gradually, throughout the remainder of the act, become refined and sublimated till, at the finale, they are of a lordly and distinguished caste. 36 THE SCARECROW DICKON \_Beckoning with one fijigerJ] Veni, fill! Veni ! Take 'ee first step, bainbino ! — Toddle ! \_The Scarecrow makes a stiff birch forward and falls side- wise against the anvil, propped half-reclinifig against which he leans rigid, emitting fainter puffs of smoke i?i gasps.] GOODY RICKEY [Screams.] Have a care ! He's fallen. DICKON Well done, Punkin Jack ! Thou shalt be knighted for that ! [Striking him on the shoulder with the hazel rod.] Rise, Lord Ravensbane ! [The Scarecrow totters to his feet, and makes a forlorn rec- tilinear salutation.] GOODY RICKEY Look ! He bows. — He flaps his flails at thee. He smiles like a tik-doo-loo-roo ! DICKON [ With a profound reverence, backing away.] Will his lordship deign to follow his tutor ? [With hitches and jerks, the Scareci'ow follows Dickon.] THE SCARECROW 37 GOODY RICKEY O Lord ! Lord ! the style o' the broomstick ! DICKON \Holding ready a high-backed chair!] Will his lordship be seated and rest himself ? \_Azvkwardly the Scarecrow half falls into the chair; his head sinks sideways, and his pipe falls out. Dickon snatches it up instantly and restores it to his mouth.] Puff! '?\i^,ptier; 'tis thy life. \^77ie Scarecrow puffs again!] Is his lordship's tobacco refreshing ? GOODY RICKEY Look now ! The red colour in his cheeks. The beet-juice is pumping, oho ! DICKON \Offering his arm.] Your lordship will deign to receive an audience ? \The Scarecrow takes his arm and rises.] The Marchioness of Rickby, your lady mother, entreats leave to present herself. My son GOODY RICKEY [ Courtesying low.] 38 THE SCARECROW DICKON \_Holding the pipe, and waving the hazel rod."] Dicite ! Speak ! \_The Scarecrow, blowing out his last mouthful of smoke, opens his mouth, gasps, gurgles, and is silentl\ In principio erat verbiiin I Accost thy mother ! \The Scarecrow, clutching at his side in a struggle for co- herence, fixes a pathetic look of pain on Goody Rickby^ THE SCARECROW Mother ! GOODY RICKEY [ With a scream of hysteiical laughter, seizes both Dickon's hands and dattces him about the forge. '\ O Beelzebub ! I shall die ! DICKON Thou hast thy son. \_Dickon whispers in the Scarecrow'' s ear, shakes his finger, and exit.'\ GOODY RICKEY He called me "mother." Again, boy, again. THE SCARECROW From the bottom of my heart — mother. GOODY RICKEY " The bottom of his heart " — Nay, thou killest me. THE SCARECROW 39 THE SCARECROW Permit me, madam ! GOODY RICKEY Gilead ! Gilead himself ! Waistcoat, " permit me," and all : thy father over again, I tell thee. THE SCARECROW \With a slight stammer. '\ It gives me — I assure you — lady — the deepest happiness. GOODY RICKEY Just so the old hypocrite spoke when I said I'd have him. But thou hast a sweeter deference, my son. \_Re'enter Dickon ; he is dressed all in black, save for a white stock, — a suit of plain elegance. '\ DICKON Now, my lord, your tutor is ready. THE SCARECROW [ To Goody Rickdy.~\ I have the honour — permit me — to wish you — good morning. \_Bo7vs atid takes a step after Dickon, who, taking a three- cornered cocked hat from a peg, goes toward the door.'\ GOODY RICKEY Whoa ! Whoa, Jack ! Whither away .? 40 THE SCARECROW DICKON \Presenting the hat.'\ Deign to reply, sir, THE SCARECROW I go — with my tutor — Master Dickonson — to pay my respects — to his worship — the Justice — Merton — to solicit — the hand — of his daughter — the fair Mistress — Rachel. [ With another bow.'\ Permit me. GOODY RICKEY Permit ye ? God speed ye ! Thou must teach him his tricks, Dickon. DICKON Trust me, Goody. Between here and Justice Mer- ton's, I will play the mother-hen, and I promise thee, our bantling shall be as stuffed with compliments as a callow chick with caterpillars. \_As he throws open the big doors, the cawi?ig of crows is heard again."] Hark ! your lordship's retainers acclaim you on your birthday. They bid you welcome to your majority. Listen ! " Long live Lord Ravensbane ! Caw ! " GOODY RICKEY Look! Count 'em, Dickon. THE SCARECROW 4 1 One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a wedding, Four for a birth — Four on 'em ! So ! Good luck on thy birthday ! And see ! There's three on 'em flying into the Jus- tice's field. — Flight o' the crows Tells how the wind blows ! — A wedding ! Get ye gone. Wed the girl, and sting the Justice. Bless ye, my son ! THE SCARECROW [ With a profound reverence^ Mother — believe me — to be — your ladyship's — most devoted — and obedient — son. DICKON \Prompting him aloud.'\ Ravensbane. THE SCARECROW \Donning his hat, lifts his head in hauteur, shakes his lace ruffle over his hand, turns his shoulder, nods slightly, and speaks for the first time with complete mastery of his voice.] Hm ! Ravensbane ! [With one hand in the arm of Dickon, the other twirling his cane {the converted chaise-spoke^, wreathed in halos of smoke from his pipe, the fantastical figure hitches ele- gantly forth into the daylight, amid louder acclamations of the crows.] j ACT II < ACT II The same morning. Justice Merton's parlour, furnished and designed in the style of the early colonial period. On the right -wall, hangs a portrait of the fustice as a young man ; on the left wall, an old-fashioned looking-glass. At the right of the room stands the Glass of Truth, draped — as in the blacksmith shop — with the strange, embroidered curtain. In front of it are discovered Rachel and Richard ; Rachel is about to draw the curtain. RACHEL Now ! Are you willing ? RICHARD So you suspect me of dark, villainous practices ? RACHEL No, no, foolish Dick. RICHARD Still, I am to be tested ; is that it ? RACHEL That's it. RICHARD As your true lover. 45 46 THE SCARECROW RACHEL Well, yes. RICHARD Why, of course, then, I consent. A true lover always consents to the follies of his lady-love. RACHEL Thank you, Dick ; I trust the glass will sustain your character. Now ; when I draw the curtain — RICHARD \Staying her hand.'] What if I be false .? RACHEL Then, sir, the glass will reflect you as the subtle fox that you are. RICHARD And you — as the goose .-' RACHEL Very likely. Ah ! but, Richard dear, we mustn't laugh. It may prove very serious. You do not guess — you do not dream all the mysteries — RICHARD \_Shaking his head, with a grave smile.'] You pluck at too many mysteries; sometime they may burn your fingers. Remember our first mother Eve! THE SCARECROW 47 RACHEL But this is the glass of truth ; and Goody Rickby told me — RICHARD Rickby, forsooth! RACHEL Nay, come ; let's have it over. \_She draws the curtain, covers her eyes, steps back by Richard's side, looks at the glass, and gives a joyous C7y.'\ Ah ! there you are, dear ! There we are, both of us — just as we have always seemed to each other, true. 'Tis proved. Isn't it wonderful ? RICHARD Miraculous ! That a mirror bought in a black- smith shop, before sunrise, for twenty pounds, should prove to be actually — a mirror ! RACHEL Richard, I'm so happy. \Enter Justice Merton and Mistress Merton.] RICHARD \_Embracing her."] Happy, art thou, sweet goose? Why, then, God bless Goody Rickby. JUSTICE MERTON Strange words from you, Squire Talbot. 48 THE SCARECROW \_Rachel and Richard part quickly ; Rachel draws the cur- tain over the mirror ; Richai'd stands stiffly. '\ t RICHARD Justice Merton! Why, sir, the old witch is more innocent, perhaps, than I represented her. JUSTICE MERTON A witch, believe me, is never innocent. \Taking their ha?ids, he brings them together and kisses Rachel on the forehead^ Permit me, young lovers. I was once young myself, young and amorous. MISTRESS MERTON [/« a low voice. '\ Verily! JUSTICE MERTON My fair niece, my worthy young man, beware of witchcraft. MISTRESS MERTON And Goody Rickby, too, brother } JUSTICE MERTON That woman shall answer for her deeds. She is proscribed. RACHEL Proscribed.'' What is that? MISTRESS MERTON \_Examining the mirror^ What is this? THE SCARECROW 49 JUSTICE MERTON She shall hang. RACHEL Uncle, no! Not merely because of my purchase this morning. JUSTICE MERTON Your purchase } MISTRESS MERTON \_Poin(i?ig to the mirror^ That, I suppose. JUSTICE MERTON What ! you purchased that mirror of her } You brought it here .-' RACHEL No, the boy brought it; I found it here when I returned. JUSTICE MERTON What ! From her ! You purchased it .-• From her shop .-• From her infamous den, into my parlour ! {To Mistress Merton.'] Call the servant. \Hbnself calling i\ Micah ! This instant, this instant — away with it ! Micah ! RACHEL ' Uncle Gilead, I bought — 50 THE SCARECROW JUSTICE MERTON Micah, I say ! Where is the man ? RACHEL Listen, Uncle. I bought it with my own money. JUSTICE MERTON Thine own money ! Wilt have the neighbours gossip ? Wilt have me, thyself, my house, suspected of complicity with witches ? [-£'«/