Class .^Jijny!J. 
 
 Copyright }1° ._ L_ 
 
 COPYRrOHT DEPOSIT. 
 
NEW POEMS 
 
 ana 
 
 A PLAY 
 
 By P. F. DUPONT 
 
 1914 
 
 PATTERSON & WHITE CO. 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
T^ 3 ^ 7 
 
 Copyright 1914 
 by 
 
 P. F. DU PONT 
 
 Author of "Under the Blue Sky" and " Currenie Calamo" 
 
 APR -3 I9r4 
 
 \ 
 
 (DCI.A371592 
 
Dedicated to the Reader 
 
 Whoe'er yon are, whate'er your clime, 
 
 Howe'er affairs of life be pleading yon — 
 You, as the author of this rhyme, 
 
 Who know not where your path is leading you- 
 To you this little book I send. 
 
 And, though your way be hard and far, 
 May it at last around some bend, 
 Or through some rift of clouds that end. 
 Be lighted by a star. 
 
Preface 
 
 Should any of the trifles contained in this small volume 
 find their way to the hearts of the lovers of poesy, I shall 
 feel amply justified in publishing in verse form these 
 miscellaneous expressions of thought. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Merion, Pa., 1914. 
 
 N.B. — ^"The Ballad of the Freight" and fifteen other poems contained 
 in this volume were published, several years ago, in The Delaware 
 Magazine. 
 
Table of Contents 
 
 The Ballad of the Freight 13 
 
 The Thief 16 
 
 The White Notchman 17 
 
 Child Labor 19 
 
 The Terminal 21 
 
 The Tigress 22 
 
 Nemesis 24 
 
 Haunted 26 
 
 Victory Out of Defeat 28 
 
 Alcohol 30 
 
 A Portrait 31 
 
 How I Witnessed My Disintegration 32 
 
 I Dreamed (Oh God ! ) My Brain Did Rot 34 
 
 Lines Written When Sitting for a Sketch 36 
 
 Pipe 0' Brier 37 
 
 A Visit 38 
 
 A Daughter's Lament 39 
 
 Song for 40 
 
 In Lighter Vein 
 
 To Delaware 41 
 
 The Philadelphia Van Dusens in 1908 42 
 
 The Girl at the Ball 44 
 
 The Rhyme of the Muddy Splashers 46 
 
 For Mrs. Hemp 48 
 
 For T. (of Bacchus) 49 
 
 Calumny 50 
 
 John and Andy 51 
 
 The Speed Maniac 52 
 
 To the Shore 53 
 
 The Double Cross 54 
 
 The Priest 55 
 
 The Head Clerk 56 
 
 Chair Warmers 57 
 
 Phone Business 58 
 
 The Plunger 59 
 
 Ponce de Leon, a Play 61 
 
 11 
 
The Ballad of the Freight 
 
 By a city's midniglit breathing, 
 Where the furnaces are seething 
 Flame, their inky ringlets wreathing 
 
 On the August air a pest. 
 Lies the hot and giant freight yard 
 Of a trunk-line, and a great yard. 
 For it is a very gate yard 
 
 And the rushing traffic's quest. 
 
 There the arc lights flash and simmer, 
 There the incandescents glimmer, 
 And the starry switch lamps, dimmer, 
 
 Shine out their very best ; 
 There the stray caboose comes sliding 
 Past the coal train on the siding. 
 Where the weary bums are hiding 
 
 For a ride out to the West. 
 
 There the brakemen toiled and sweated. 
 The dispatcher fumed and fretted, 
 And across the switches, netted. 
 
 Strains the mogul with a zest ; 
 There they shunted into linement. 
 With a most profane refinement, 
 What is known as a consignment 
 
 For a freight train going West. 
 
 13 
 
Bales and boxes, bags and baskets, 
 Clothing, rifles, quilting, caskets, 
 Boilers, engines, shafting, gaskets, 
 
 Steel that's drawn and rolled and pressed; 
 Cells, electrical equipment, 
 Window-screenings, made the shipment; 
 And a blessed lot each trip meant 
 
 To the great and busy West. 
 
 (Now the switches lock and tighten, 
 Now the signals move and brighten, 
 Eail and sill and ballast whiten 
 
 In the generated arc 
 Of the Special — she's our darling — 
 Hear her steaming pistons snarling 
 While she whoops it, ki-ki-yarling, 
 
 Comet showering through the dark. 
 
 Engine, coaches, Pullmans finer. 
 Rounded windows as a liner, 
 Then the whit'ning of the diner — 
 
 Observation shining best; 
 She can gather or disband you. 
 Win your faith and understand you. 
 And in twenty hours land you 
 
 In a city in the West.) 
 
 Now the * clear' is up before us. 
 Now the mogul wails dolorous. 
 Now the box cars buck in chorus 
 
 Rolling out as though distressed; 
 
 14 
 
Billy Brady at the throttle, 
 Drinking coffee from a bottle, 
 Uses language Aristotle 
 
 Never knew or even guessed. 
 
 By the streams where grow the willows. 
 Through the townships, by the villas. 
 Where the restless on their pillows 
 
 Have their nerves put to a test; 
 Where the tunnels drill the ridges. 
 Where ravines are spanned with bridges — 
 Spider-woof of hearth and sledges — 
 
 Snorts the freight train rolling West. 
 
 And the girls the crew are leaving. 
 Some to trusting, some to grieving, 
 Some themselves at home deceiving — 
 
 Boarder, and you know the rest — 
 Gentle mothers children caring, 
 Grassing gossips, scandal airing. 
 While the freight train roars a-tearing 
 
 Down the gradients to the West. 
 
 'Tis a growth of many stages, 
 
 'Tis a gift of all the ages, 
 
 'Tis the work of smiths and sages — 
 
 All of those who dreamed the best; 
 Of its beauty and its glory 
 Children learn from sires hoary. 
 Learn the true and wond'rous story 
 
 Of the freight train rolling West. 
 
 15 
 
The Thief 
 
 The nameless terrors of the sleeping brain, 
 
 Subconscious thoughts that have distressed our night, 
 
 Are they the giants of our grief and pain 
 That have attacked us in the hours of light ? 
 
 Mayhap infused by evil, stronger mind. 
 Hurled through the vibrant waves of air afar, 
 
 Hurled, though with softness of the summer wind. 
 Or as liquescent light from star to star. 
 
 Mayhap some strong dynamic will whose fire 
 Snapped and flashed bluely with a demon power, 
 
 Hap'ly the sprite of some three-times-great sire 
 Come to torment us at the midnight hour. 
 
 Come from a body long returned to earth. 
 There in the moon-lit churchyard lying still. 
 
 That for a respite it may seek new birth 
 And through our living bodies work its will. 
 
 And when, at times, in sleep a hand we feel 
 Around our foreheads grope and hunt its way, 
 
 'Tis the dead hand of him who comes to steal 
 The dream thoughts that are lost at light of day. 
 
 Back, oh bold spirit, to your dungeon deep. 
 Back to your grave, oh long-departed guest, - 
 
 Vex not our rest time and our hours of sleep, 
 Eob not our minds — all that we count the best. 
 
 16 
 
The White Notchman 
 
 As the lad who lies at the bank of a creek, 
 Where the grass and the clovers tangle thick, 
 And notches away with his knife at a stick 
 
 Till the blade has slipped and stung; 
 There is blood for the toll of the Notchman white. 
 And he notches away in the day and the night — 
 On the ocean plain or the mountain height — 
 
 And he notches the human lung. 
 
 'Now the lung of the Eskimo is white, as white as the 
 
 driven snow; 
 And brown is the lung of the country lad where the crops 
 
 of the country grow; 
 But the lung of the city man is black, as black as a 
 
 carrion crow; 
 And that is the lung, the lung of all lungs, the lung where 
 
 the Notchmen mow. 
 
 Lanier of the marsh, the leaf and the tree, 
 Dear Stevenson painting the rogues of the sea, 
 And Keats, of La Belle Dame sans Merci, 
 
 Have bow'd to the Notchman white; 
 The pauper who dies with a kick and a twitch, 
 The heiress who fights with her back to the ditch, 
 And the sage and fools and the poor and the rich 
 
 Have bow'd to his bane and blight. 
 
 Now it may be ivise that those who may for a change of 
 
 climate go, 
 'Tis a longer run for the special train to ease the family's 
 
 woe, 
 
 17 
 
'Tis a longer run for the special train, though they 
 
 haven't the ghost of a show, 
 For wherever they roam there's a light red foam, a foam 
 
 that the '' lungers'' know. 
 
 Can science unravel this riddle at last, 
 Destroy the destroyer of centuries past? 
 Ah, then from the nations' orchestra vast, 
 
 Shall a paean of joy be sung. 
 For the truce to those in horrible plight 
 Who flee from the plain to the mountain height 
 In the hope (vain hope) for the respite right 
 From the work of the terrible Notchman white 
 
 As he notches the human lung. 
 
 18 
 
Child Labor 
 
 My happiest times have been in dreams, 
 In fairy-lands bedecked with flowers, 
 
 Sequestered vales where wan'dring streams 
 
 Are limpid as a crystal's gleams 
 
 And not besmirched with oily steams 
 As are these streams of onrs. 
 
 Along my streams the fairies play 
 
 In colors gay and bright; 
 Along our streams at break of day 
 Pale little somber children may 
 Be seen to stumble on their way 
 As though too short their night. 
 
 As captives to an ogre's hall 
 
 Weary and wan they go, 
 To vast machines that rise and fall 
 In busy rows along the wall — 
 And little children tend them all 
 
 Because their wage is low. 
 
 The cost sheet is their winding band. 
 
 But by those streams of mine 
 (Those streams within that fairer land) 
 The fairies' children, hand in hand, 
 Eun racing o'er the golden sand 
 And wreaths of flowers twine. 
 
 19 
 
This world is not the happy place 
 
 The idle wealthy deem; 
 Their tiny unmissed share to those 
 Well published lists of donors goes, 
 But what about the awful woes 
 
 Of little slaves to steam? 
 
 Oh, would that on our rolling earth, 
 
 This ancient whirling sphere, 
 That every child could join that band 
 And play within that fairer land 
 And romp upon that golden sand — 
 Each blessed little dear! 
 
 There is no thing in all this world 
 
 Where thirst for gain beguiles. 
 To match that glimpse of paradise, 
 That little peep through Heaven's skies- 
 To match the laughter in the eyes 
 Of any child that smiles. 
 
 20 
 
The Terminal 
 
 Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, 
 
 Slow through the gloom the monster steams, 
 Over the myriad switches along 
 
 Into the station of dreams; 
 And ever I feel a shudder slight, 
 
 For, like to an omen ill it seems, 
 Boiling down as a pall of night 
 
 Into the station of dreams. 
 
 (The weak, the strong, the poor, the rich — 
 
 What hopes transpire! what visions fail!) 
 As, moody, over many a switch 
 
 And over the dripping rail 
 Like some great hunted beast you go, 
 
 Hunted from West to East, 
 Into the terminal dark and low 
 To bring your share of joy or woe 
 
 To rich and poor and strong and frail 
 Tho' they need it most or least! 
 
 Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, 
 
 Slow through the gloom the monster steams. 
 Over the myriad switches along 
 
 Into the station of dreams. 
 And ever I feel a shudder slight. 
 
 For, like to an omen ill it seems. 
 Rolling down as a pall of night 
 
 Into the station of dreams. 
 
 21 
 
The Tigress 
 
 Her face was a woman's, that alone — 
 
 She'd not the pure, sweet look of a girl. 
 Still-eyed and calm as the stars that shone 
 
 In the violet skies with moon of pearl — 
 Virtue and intellect never lit 
 
 That beautiful face or night or day, 
 Nor a single gleam of mirth or wit 
 
 Nor a sign of thought or fancy's play: 
 One look she had, oh, I see it still — 
 Terrible, terrible, strength of will. 
 
 'Twas strange how madly my love I planned; 
 
 I spoke, but she said : — ' ' No, 'tis not best ; ' ' 
 But the while she softly took my hand 
 
 And folded me to her throbbing breast. 
 Then the raptured lover's words I poured; 
 
 " 'Tis not for the best," she said, *'no, no, 
 'Tis not for the best, mine own adored;" 
 
 But she clasped me tight and held me so. 
 And at length no more her ''no" was said, 
 And she set the day and we were wed. 
 
 Sweet are the joys of a new-wed pair 
 And long indeed is the fond embrace 
 
 Of a manly form and woman fair — 
 
 For fair she was in her form and face ; 
 
 22 
 
But ever she had that look of will, 
 
 And the strangest heaving of her breast: 
 Thought I, she is worn and feeling ill, 
 
 She is shy and tired and needs some rest- 
 So I kissed my darling bride ''good night" 
 And woke with the birds and morning light. 
 
 With indrawn breath in sickening hiss 
 
 And horrible scream I leap from bed; 
 What terrible transformation this:— 
 
 Oh Christ! oh look at that awful head! 
 Oh Lord my God! what is this I see? 
 
 Kill me, oh God, and spare me the pain 
 Awakening sight has brought to me 
 
 Of woman-beast from jungle or plain — 
 That loathsome thing in my home and bed, 
 With the woman's form and tigress head! 
 
 23 
 
(He.) 
 
 Nemesis 
 
 ''Fairest maid of darkest night, 
 
 When I say 'I love you,' 
 Can not you, with reason right. 
 By the laws of mind and light, 
 See I am above you? 
 
 Love for you was but a mood. 
 
 Dusky Afric beauty; 
 From this silent tropic wood, 
 From this jungle solitude, 
 
 I must go to duty. 
 
 Cling not to me pleadingly, 
 
 Cease thy wild berating; 
 Far across the Northern sea 
 Wife and children wait for me- 
 Long have been awaiting. 
 
 Back again another year 
 
 I may come — no knowing; 
 Here to find you in good cheer. 
 With your net and bow and spear, 
 And our children, growing." 
 
 24 
 
(She.) 
 
 '*Is my lord in no way ruth 
 
 To leave our happy dwelling? 
 Do you find it too uncouth, 
 Are you sure it is the truth 
 
 That your heart is telling? 
 
 Oh, my lord, I'll ever keep 
 Love for you without you; 
 
 Yet, e'er I am left to weep 
 
 Here alone in jungle deep 
 Look again about you." 
 
 (Gazed he 'round with sneering pride 
 
 To view the hovel lastly; 
 She, with light 'ning, panther stride. 
 Drives the spear into his side, 
 While he totters, ghastly.) 
 
 *'Now your end is drawing near, 
 
 You are going — going; 
 Now I'll live in better cheer. 
 With my net and bow and spear 
 
 And my children, growing." 
 
 25 
 
Haunted 
 
 Oh, it's great to be decent lad and step the city highways, 
 The sunny city highways where the girls all look so 
 sweet ; 
 To meet with snobs conventional and reubens from the 
 byways. 
 To study all the varied types where all the types must 
 meet — 
 A world of pride and laughter, with the motors rolling 
 after. 
 And the dirty gamins, just as happy, playing in the 
 street. 
 And then along the walls of the houses, from their halls, 
 Pour all those ghastly, ghostly faces bidding you 
 retreat. 
 
 Oh, it's great to roam the forests when the morning 
 breezes meet you, 
 To shoulder through the thickets flushing quail without 
 a gain, 
 Or, where the wild-oats marshes wave about to greet you. 
 To sit and wait for widgeons in the patter of the rain. 
 But the chill to lonely gunner, not induced by being rain- 
 full, 
 "When on the Purdey's mid-rib in the misty light 
 appears 
 That same old apparition, with its countenance so bane- 
 ful, 
 The one that's camp'd upon your trail and haunted 
 you for years ! 
 
 26 
 
Oh, it's sweet to go to worship in the little village chapels, 
 With the bonny lads and lassies and the old folks bent 
 and gray; 
 To hear the country choirs (with their swelling Adam's 
 apples), 
 To place your arms on ancient oak and bend your head 
 and pray. 
 But it's nothing less than awful to a man that is God- 
 fearing 
 To be terribly distracted when within the house of 
 prayer, 
 To feel that all around you there are phantom faces 
 leering. 
 To know that ghosts are playing on your shoulders — 
 in your hair. 
 
 27 
 
Victory Out of Defeat 
 
 Weirdest of all my vanquished foes, 
 (Vanquished or sleeping? — God but knows!) 
 
 Indefatigable and fraught 
 
 With demon wiles; we've fought and fought 
 Leaving a trampled, bloody wake — 
 Oh God! that he may ne'er awake! 
 
 But see! a shudder shakes his frame, 
 Subconscious thoughts without a name 
 
 Flash through his phantom brain the while 
 
 To vilify his evil smile — 
 A Hell-born demon sprung to earth 
 To curse the Hell that gave him birth! 
 
 Largely upon the mood we're in 
 Depends one's power to cope with sin, 
 
 With sin, that leering thing inert — 
 
 My better feelings all alert 
 With fighting senses poised and trim; 
 My weaker self to welcome him. 
 
 Each verdant tree has some of blight 
 To mar; each day can not be bright; 
 
 Each lovely rose has thorns to be 
 
 A likeness to humanity. 
 Fashioned we are of weals and woes. 
 As tree and day and passing rose. 
 
 28 
 
This is the lot for us of earth 
 
 The God ordained: — a strife from birth; 
 To strive for with a might and main 
 Perfection we can ne'er attain, 
 
 And all through life for Jesus' sake 
 
 To leave the trampled, bloody wake, 
 
 Dying to know you've fought with siq 
 A bloody fight you could not win. 
 
 29 
 
Alcohol 
 
 The mind that swings the rum-bowl to the brain, 
 Imbibing joy from fairest fields of grain, 
 
 Keys mind and body to the liighest pitch — 
 Both to the ditch must go ; why haste the ditch ? 
 
 Wliy haste the ditch where demons in the clay 
 Await to gnaw your coffin boards away. 
 
 Why shorten life with wine and maudlin song — 
 As sound of waves the cruel shores along? 
 
 ^Tiat ghastly paradise the boozing-ken, 
 
 Aristocratic rum-holes famed for men 
 
 Who love to dwell on superficial things — 
 Where blear-eyed beetles flit on poisoned wings. 
 
 The mind that swings the rum-howl to the hrain, 
 Imbibing joy from fairest fields of grain, 
 
 Keys mind and body to the highest pitch — 
 Both to the ditch must go; why haste the ditch? 
 
 30 
 
A Portrait 
 
 I hate yon, with your staring eyes of blue, 
 
 Your form, your poise, your walk, your conscious 
 face ; 
 I hate — ^nay, nay, a thousand times untrue, 
 I nothing hate from dirty deuce to ace — 
 But you, you cause in me the greatest pall — 
 Your form, your poise, your walk, your face, your all. 
 
 Your hair, in monumental wave serene. 
 
 Over your brow a golden crown to be, 
 Befitting well your station and your mein, 
 
 Your form, your face, your fate, your destiny — 
 What chances had you, had you been inclined. 
 To learn to work, to think! Oh God! your mind! 
 
 Many are they who feel the scorch of fate. 
 
 Of jilted love, of hope deferred, yet live; 
 Many are they who learn to work and wait 
 
 And reap rewards that work alone can give — 
 Made of man's lust and sin and pride and pelf? 
 Nay ! By the gods ! Yourself hath made yourself ! 
 
 31 
 
How I Witnessed My Disintegration 
 
 I was dying — yes, tliey said so — 
 In the quiet, lonely ward. 
 
 And the pain that racked my head so 
 And the pulsing of each cord 
 
 All had ceased now; I was ready 
 To be carried o'er the ford. 
 
 Low the light, (of this I'm certain) 
 But no other knowledge I 
 
 Had, as though a heavy curtain 
 Overdosed my mental sky — 
 
 Save that I was vaguely conscious 
 Of the buzzing of a fly. 
 
 Then I died, and with the rattle 
 Straight as arrow to me flew. 
 
 Flew the fly — as every chattel 
 Of my body was its due — 
 
 Strange that I, the dying, died 
 
 Yet knew this thing I surely knew. 
 
 On my eye he settled lightly, 
 
 On the glazed and staring ball, 
 
 Rubbed his limbs and pinions sprightly 
 Then commenced to feast and crawl- 
 
 Oh, I tried so hard to strike him! 
 Oh, I tried so hard to call! 
 
 32 
 
Then at once, as quick as lightning, 
 Flies hy countless thousands came. 
 
 Little ones, and green ones, bright 'ning. 
 Swarming on my helpless frame — 
 
 Then a change came, quick as magic 
 In some Oriental game. 
 
 Not a fly had left a pinion, 
 
 Not a fly the power of flight. 
 
 All within my frame's dominion 
 
 Was a mass of maggots white — 
 
 How they fought, and fought and feasted, 
 Oh, the vile disgusting sight! 
 
 Joined in groups they were and writhing. 
 On each other massing high. 
 
 Like to hosts in battle striving 
 For decisive victory — 
 
 And the center of the battle 
 Was located in my eye. 
 
 As they fatten I diminish. 
 
 As they feast they writhe and teem, 
 Not to leave me till they finish 
 
 Though my ribs are all agieam 
 In a liquid putrefaction — 
 
 When I wake, with piercing scream. 
 
 33 
 
I Dreamed (Oh God I) My Brain Did Rot 
 
 I dreamed (oh God!) my brain did rot. 
 
 My body strong and free, 
 Lived on, as lithe and beautiful 
 
 As any verdant tree. 
 
 The peaceful sky of blue above, 
 
 Beneath, a supple frame, 
 Betwixt the two that loathsome thing — 
 
 My rotting brain aflame. 
 
 Good thought fell out, weird dreams appeared. 
 
 Night-flitting, as a bat. 
 Vast ruthless schemes arranged themselves 
 
 And whirled beneath my hat. 
 
 As one bedeil'd I wandered on 
 
 A cruel way alone; 
 The smile of friends smote at my heart 
 
 As though a driven stone. 
 
 And then occurred a dreadful thing: 
 
 I could no longer think — 
 But from my rotting brain there rose 
 
 A horrid pungent stink; 
 
 The stench of charnal-house where lie 
 The dead piled high as three — 
 
 Alone I walked, alone I sat. 
 And always far to lee. 
 
 34 
 
I am a man, and know man's lot 
 
 Is here to suffer pains; 
 But Hell, a pistol to my head 
 
 Would blow these rotten brains. 
 
 The bluey trigger's curved to fit 
 
 The index finger snug; 
 A steady pull, the smokeless crack, 
 
 And I — a broken jug. 
 
 My spirit rose transcendent then 
 
 Enrobed in dazzling white, 
 My brain a living brain again — 
 
 A human brain aright. 
 
 That time (that Hell on earth) I'd writ 
 
 With rotting brain afire; 
 Men laughed, but now — ^how strange — 
 
 They make obeisance to my lyre. 
 
 For man must die to win the wreath 
 
 Held out by goddess Fame, 
 Then people praise and say, "He wrought 
 
 With rotting brain aflame." 
 
 35 
 
Lines Written When Sitting for a Sketch 
 
 Depict me, artist, as ye will; 
 
 Depict me, artist, as ye can: 
 ''Rough-house" my features to your fill. 
 Or paint me as a gilded pill — 
 
 But paint me still a man. 
 
 Not that I deem the artist's lot 
 Is one that's not a manly art; 
 
 To live this life what man is not 
 An artist from the very start? 
 
 An artist he, who knowing, bears 
 The smile of many a Janus face, 
 
 He who a gay expression wears 
 
 In pain, with ne'er a hint or trace. 
 
 Or he who knows the hatred of 
 
 The poor, if he be well in wealth, 
 
 He who the slights of those above 
 
 Him feels, (a snob but snubs himself.) 
 
 Or yet, mayhap, he's forced to bear 
 
 That cry that strikes the heart with dread, 
 
 The wail of little children fair 
 In want for daily bread. 
 
 Depict me, artist, as ye will; 
 
 Depict me, artist, as ye can: 
 *' Rough-house" my features to your fill. 
 Or paint me as a gilded pill — 
 
 But paint me still a man. 
 
 36 
 
Pipe O' Brier 
 
 You may light, a lamp, you may light a candle, 
 You may strike a match and kindle a fire; 
 
 But of all the lights you hold with a handle 
 And light, oh, give me a pipe o' brier. 
 
 Where the sweet brook flows through field and bramble, 
 
 A wheel to turn or reflect the spire 
 Of country church in its placid ramble, 
 
 I sit with a rod and a pipe o' brier. 
 
 The fields are green, and the willows dandle 
 Their whip-like wings for the winds a lyre. 
 
 And the bad brook babbles the latest scandal 
 Of the trout eloped with the angler's wire; 
 
 And Spring has fled from March, the vandal, 
 And the world is gay in bright attire. 
 
 In stream and field and leaves that dandle. 
 And, yes, ah yes, in the pipe o ' brier. 
 
 Stop, Father Time, and drop your sandal. 
 
 Your fleeting sands, your scythe so dire — 
 
 Can it be Heaven can hold a candle 
 
 To this, ah this, and a pipe o' brier? 
 
 37 
 
A Visit 
 
 The fire, laid and lit, burned in the hall; 
 
 The sunlight on the white wainscoting fell; 
 
 And I, why I had come, I cannot tell — 
 Well say for tea, and talk that's known as "small." 
 You sat enfolded in a silken shawl. 
 
 And loose and flimsy things that Arabs sell — 
 
 'Twere better, better thus, and seemed as well 
 As tight-laced dames that sit along the wall. 
 
 Your eyes, dear, seemed so gentle, thoughtful, true, 
 (That time, just past, I caught you unawares), 
 And restful as the Heaven's azure blue. 
 
 Not hoping, doubting not, as through the vale 
 Of earth's affairs they gazed — ah, may your cares 
 Fade as before the summer sun the hail. 
 
 38 
 
A Daughter's Lament 
 
 The mother that bore me, gone before me, 
 
 Gone to the saints above — 
 I dream of her face and I dream of her grace 
 
 And I love to dream of her love; 
 I dream of the tenderly care she gave. 
 
 If but for an hour or two, 
 For she was sent to a fairer land 
 
 When I was brought to a new. 
 
 The mother that raised me, petted and praised me, 
 
 Until I had grown to see 
 She'd taken a child whose life she'd styled 
 
 For rank cupidity; 
 She'd managed a match considered a '^ catch" 
 
 High up on the social scroll, 
 (The mother that bore me, gone before me — 
 
 The other had killed my soul.) 
 
 39 
 
Song For 
 
 One is for Love, and two is for Hope, 
 
 And three is for Will and Care, 
 Ey ancient elms where branches slope 
 
 To bend as though in prayer; 
 And all, a little prayer for one 
 
 Upon a stormy sea, 
 One known when youth had scarce begun. 
 When all the world was yet to run — 
 
 That world of you and me! 
 
 One is for Love, and two is for Hope, 
 
 And three is for Will and Care, 
 To bravely follow your horoscope 
 
 And fight and do and dare. 
 Like to a battled mariner 
 
 By cruel coast and bar. 
 Range ye o' nights your harbor lights 
 
 That gleam and glint afar; 
 The friendly beacon lights that play 
 
 The shelving shores along 
 To show the way. Eight bells ! 'Tis day. 
 
 So here I end the song. 
 
 40 
 
In Lighter Vein 
 
 To Delaware 
 
 Addicks is vanquished, Delaware, clieer up! 
 
 The Board of Trade may dig you out some day. 
 
 For you have memories, and still have Gray; 
 The State goes wet, you still may have your cup. 
 You have your Country Club, where all may sup ; 
 
 Such things as caste have long been thrown away; 
 
 The Blue Hen's Chickens all are one today — 
 Here's to you, Delaware, and ''bottoms up!" 
 
 To you then, Delaware, this artless rhyme, 
 
 By one not e'en a native to your shore; 
 Only a wanderer from clime to clime. 
 Whose name must ever chain him to your breast — 
 
 You, with your scarce one hundred miles or more. 
 Your Wilmington, and that dead sea — the rest. 
 
 41 
 
The Philadelphia Van Dusens in 1908 
 
 Wliat one, I say, who ladder-climbs, 
 
 When social aims the efforts goad, 
 What one who wades the pungent slimes 
 
 Through cut and snub and plays the toad, 
 What one, I say, is so obscure 
 
 In Fashion's lesser minuet, 
 But has not known and felt the lure 
 
 Of Mrs. Frank Van Dusen's set? 
 
 On Chestnut's southern side we walk; 
 
 Without us Hepner's had to go; 
 AVith other sets the line of chalk 
 
 We draw ; we bow, but mingle — no ! 
 
 Come strangers to our town, what woe 
 Be theirs, whate'er their crest and lance, 
 
 Howe'er with bars their helm be met — 
 For could we dare to take a chance, 
 
 We, Mrs. Frank Van Dusen's set? 
 
 A'\niat child of ours has made a match 
 
 In circle other than our own? 
 Unless Mamma thought it a catch; 
 
 And then, I'm sure with many a groan 
 She saw her darling child and pet 
 
 Wed some young dandy, money-blown. 
 But not of our Van Dusen set. 
 
 42 
 
L 'envoi 
 
 Come, set the bars at Packard cars, 
 
 On all the others place the ban ! 
 Beware the dice ! Eat frappe'd ice! 
 
 Cling to onr clannish little clan! 
 And Hammerstein in nineteen nine 
 
 Will be awaiting for us yet, 
 For conld we dare to go up there, 
 
 We, Mrs. Frank Van Dusen's set' 
 
 43 
 
The Girl at the Ball 
 
 The Parisian dress is a beautiful thing — 
 It hangs so low on the bosom of snow, 
 
 Save two small straps on the shoulders — 
 "With its spangles and spars and its train in the lee, 
 The wondrous dress from over the sea 
 
 Is the wonder of all the beholders, 
 
 And you pray for the straps on the shoulders ! 
 
 The music is soft; we are merry to-night, 
 
 And we bow and we smirk and we chatter 
 
 We snub and we spurn and we cut and we slight, 
 We are cynical, or we flatter — 
 By jove! the girl of the dress is gone! 
 I wonder what is the matter! 
 
 And there is the beautiful feast, of course, 
 AVith chicken croquettes (I hate them). 
 With crabs, with salads, ices, cigars — 
 So many I cannot relate them. 
 A wonderful spread it was, I fain 
 
 Would have each dame such a giver; 
 She'd pin her guests to every need — 
 Why, here is the girl of the dress again; 
 She probably brought pins with her! 
 
 They are leaving! The autos crowd to the door; 
 
 Insincerities simply bubble. 
 From belle and bachelor, fop and bore 
 
 And matron hunting trouble; 
 
 44 
 
And when they return to their crested domes, 
 As the birds of prey seek cover, 
 I know, with the flash of a Sherlock Holmes, 
 They won't do a thing to each other! 
 
 Adien, society folk, good night 
 
 To your flattery and your laughter! 
 Adieu, fine dress, with the sweeping train, 
 (For you saved a girl who was verging plain) 
 And, as after the dress the sweeping train. 
 So, after the ball the sting and the pain. 
 Yes, after the ball the sting and the pain. 
 The sting and the pain come after. 
 
 45 
 
The Rhyme of the Muddy Splashers 
 
 One of Columbia's daughters, you measly saw'd-off brat, 
 You've forty and seven sisters — would one of 'em act 
 
 like that? 
 His Nibs has given a million, an' damit, the road '11 pay; 
 So why are you stallin' an' fightin', an' why are you 
 
 blockin' the play? 
 He'd make you a dinky garden, with berries an' flowers 
 
 an' truck, 
 An' you're hoUerin' bloody murder an' startin' to run 
 
 amuck. 
 Your editors all approve it — Hoffecker, Cummins and 
 
 Bell- 
 But you scoff at their bloomin' write-ups, an' start to 
 
 raisin' Hell. 
 You say he controls the papers; well, what do the rich 
 
 men do? 
 If you had twelve million sinkers there 'd be something 
 
 comin' to you. 
 One of Columbia's daughters, with Ohio an' Texas an' 
 
 Maine, 
 Under the same old Eagle, out of the same old strain. 
 New York or Georgia or Kansas could cover you flat as 
 
 a rug, 
 Or as one of your Muddy Splashers would crush a potato- 
 
 bug. 
 
 46 
 
Get awake to your wonderful chances, break the sandy 
 
 chains and be free ; 
 YouVe the finest bay in the country, and an open road 
 
 to the sea. 
 Take a gift as he meant it — there — ^be a nice little gal! 
 Give him a slap on the shoulder an' call him a Grand 
 
 old Pal! 
 
 47 
 
For Mrs. Hemp 
 
 I am very glad to leave you, Mrs. Hemp, 
 For your domicile is chilly and unkempt; 
 Though I would not wish to grieve you, 
 I could hardly yet deceive you — 
 I am very glad to leave you, Mrs. Hemp. 
 
 48 
 
For T. (of Bacchus) 
 
 I saw him leaning on the bar, 
 
 I tried to draw him thence; 
 I could not get him very far 
 
 With all my eloquence. 
 
 I saw him tack his zig-zag way 
 
 Where, trays aloft, the waiters sped; 
 
 I saw him fall, good-natured prey, 
 
 Where girls were waiting to be fed. 
 
 I saw him at a table sit; 
 
 The sable furs and flaunting hat 
 Were there to revel in his wit — 
 
 I mean what's known as cat. 
 
 I saw him light a longish weed 
 
 Preparatory to a smoke. 
 Through wreaths of blue I heard him feed 
 
 The table laughter with a joke. 
 
 I saw a burnished cockroach flit 
 Along the marble colonnade. 
 
 For T. had thrown another fit — 
 And likewise a cascade. 
 
 49 
 
Calumny 
 
 Vainly it tries by stealth to hatch 
 
 A monstrous flock of vampire bats, 
 
 Eesembling in its tunnelings 
 
 The green-fanged nastiness of rats. 
 
 50 
 
John and Andy 
 
 Now we hear that Andy's given 
 Ten more millions of his green, 
 
 Watch for John's next jump for Heaven 
 Through his wells of gasoline. 
 
 51 
 
The Speed Maniac 
 
 I care not for my life, or life and limb of those 
 Who rashly dare a course to trim on where my highway 
 goes. 
 
 The road is mine, my life, as to my pistons oil; 
 I forward fling as bright and lithe as a skilled fencer's 
 foil. 
 
 My nigh four-thousand pounds, as one would hurl a stone, 
 I hurl across the shaky bridge with many a creak and 
 groan. 
 
 I sway around the curves, I burn along the grades ; 
 I hold a course that never swerves, in dust the landscape 
 fades. 
 
 My purring motor sings, my float is working free. 
 My clutch and gear and piston-rings and road are life 
 to me. 
 
 Am I to blame if fools misjudge my speed and fall? 
 Can dog or man or coach or steed arrest a cannon ball? 
 
 At every little inn I drive away the blues; 
 I fill my bloomin', blasted skin up to the neck with 
 ''booze." 
 
 I'm off! The night has come; the carbide glare is 
 
 thrown 
 In wild, fantastic shadows dumb — I roar along alone. 
 
 Chilled with the night and dew, on time — not a second 
 
 late! 
 Shaken and jarred and jolted through, I've crossed 
 
 another State. 
 
 52 
 
To the Shore 
 
 On the runabout, six-sixty, 
 
 Is the suitcase thonged and strapped; 
 By my side a game mechanic 
 
 Neat putteed and leather capped; 
 With the engine running freely 
 
 And the freed exhaust a-roar, 
 We beat it down the stretches 
 
 Through the pine woods to the shore. 
 
 We've the force of sixty horses 
 
 In that engine running free, 
 In a swirl of dust and gravel 
 
 We can leave 'em all a-lee — 
 (With excuses to the ladies, 
 
 While their drivers softly swore) 
 When we beat it down the stretches 
 
 Through the pine woods to the shore. 
 
 They can call it reckless driving, 
 
 Suicidal, what they like — 
 Let me know my bolts and tires 
 
 And I'll burn the White Horse pike; 
 And we're glad to take the chances 
 
 For the fun and nothing more. 
 When we beat it down the stretches 
 
 Through the pine woods to the shore. 
 
 53 
 
The Double Cross 
 
 I asked a broker what lie thought a buy, 
 
 Wlio proved in language cool, concise and shrewd, 
 That I must own, unless I were a prude. 
 
 His stock, St. Paul, 'twas going to the sky. 
 
 ''Indeed," quoth he, ''I daily can decry 
 Timidity when cautious fools denude 
 Themselves of profits easily accrued. 
 And keep their tin in their tin boxes dry. ' ' 
 
 Oh fatal step, the stock fell down like lead ! 
 
 I failed to meet a call and took my loss. 
 Oh humbled pride ! oh, hope of profit fled ! 
 
 Back to my job! forget the sinful dross! 
 Hist'ry repeats, another sucker bled! 
 
 The House was short St. Paul — oh, double cross! 
 
 64 
 
The Priest 
 
 In a monastic pile remote and gray, 
 
 I saw you at your Aves, prayers and beads; 
 
 Bent in confession, telling their misdeeds, 
 I saw before you contrite sinners pray. 
 In sad death-chambers you have helped away 
 
 Full scores of souls, no matter what their creeds; 
 
 Led to the light the failing heart that needs 
 Kind help; have seen a many a wedding-day. 
 
 So when I saw you in a Bucket Shop, 
 
 With flaming tie, slouch hat and glance of stealth, 
 You looked away; my very heart would stop 
 
 That you, you of all men, should plunge for pelf — 
 But let it rest, I never was a fop, 
 
 I blame you not, I like the game myself! 
 
 55 
 
The Head Clerk 
 
 It seems there lies a world of knowledge too 
 
 Behind that face of yours, that beard of drab — 
 That countenance expressive as a slab — 
 
 Of many things, and great, that must be true. 
 And if, when en arriere, he comes to you, 
 
 The chief, to tell you of the man who 'd grab 
 
 That job of yours, don't mind his little stab, 
 Just say you button-holed a lamb you knew. 
 
 As hour by hour the traders sit and play. 
 
 Think how they lost, how they will make it all; 
 
 As hour by hour the ticker has its say, 
 
 Time passes, and the markets rise and fall; 
 
 The clerk Smith's debit-balance will survey. 
 As Death, the last sure reaper of them all. 
 
 66 
 
Chair Warmers 
 
 Along with, those who strive for paltry pelf, 
 
 They sit and watch the board from day to day 
 Warming their chairs, and plan tomorrow's play- 
 But their tomorrow's ne'er tomorrow's self. 
 Lacking the courage or the margin-wealth. 
 
 They smoke and read and gossip or display 
 Knowledge of what the leading roads can pay. 
 How Jones grew rich and Smith went on the shelf. 
 
 Sit on, chair warmers, use it for a club. 
 
 Your broker's board-room, for your broker hopes 
 
 From barren fields he yet may orders grub — 
 Nourished by seething seas of softest soaps. 
 
 You're safer than the man who trades, you know — 
 
 At times he's forced to go, you never go. 
 
 57 
 
Phone Business 
 
 '*I wish to speak to Mr. Jolin Van Dough." 
 "Is that you Jack? I hate to bother you, 
 But this is straight, and if the street but knew 
 
 They'd rush the market up ten points or so. 
 
 I know you like the stock, would like to know 
 Some inside information that is true — 
 Smelting and Lead for an advance are due. 
 
 And shorts will cover with a rush of woe. 
 
 "The plants are modern, business shrewdly run. 
 Profits have shown a steady net increase, 
 
 Always a market — what? you think so, son? 
 The Gruggenheims are not a lot of geese ! 
 
 Five hundred be enough? you bet you can! 
 
 Smelting at ninety-nine! right-oh, old man!" 
 
 58 
 
The Plunger 
 
 Stocks down, and he was bearish to the brim, 
 When they were np he was the boldest bull ; 
 So now he walks — unless he has a pull 
 
 With the caboose, and that rear flagman grim. 
 
 He was the optimist, serene and trim. 
 
 Who thinks they're going to the Heaven's dome. 
 Or that they've leased the Hades for a home — 
 
 Was long on nerve, short margins backing him. 
 
 So thus, in love and war and in the street, 
 A bold attempt is half success, they say; 
 
 But do not burn your bridges, for retreat 
 
 When the sweet birds of love and luck away ! 
 
 He is a bird, but phantom ghoulish crow. 
 
 He who would win a fortune at a throw. 
 
 59 
 
Ponce de Leon 
 
 A PLAY 
 
 Copyrigtt 1912 by P. F. Du Pont 
 
Ponce de Leon, A Play 
 
 Copyright 1912 by P. F. Du Pont 
 
 List of Characters 
 
 Juan Ponce de Leon 
 The Duke of Gkanada 
 The Duchess of Gteanada 
 Nancy Deucila (her daughter) 
 Camila (Nancy's maid) 
 Fernando Ortiz 
 Maximiliao Porras 
 Father Justing 
 Chief Afraid of his Squaw 
 Starlight (his daughter) 
 Heavy Thunder {his squaw) 
 Black Hawk 
 Natal {a sailor) 
 
 Perskippio {Ponce de Leon's man-servant) 
 Attendants, etc. 
 
 63 
 
Historical Note 
 
 Juan Ponce de Leon, conqueror and discoverer, was 
 born in Aragon, Spain, about 1460. He was of noble 
 family, served in the conquest of Granada, and in 1493 
 went with Columbus to Espanola ; later he was governor, 
 under Ovando, of the eastern part of that Island, whence 
 he passed over to Puerto Rico in 1508 and began its 
 conquest; in 1510 he was appointed its governor. From 
 the Indians he heard of an "Island" called Bimini, and 
 it was reported that this contained a miraculous spring 
 which would restore the aged to, youth; probably the sup- 
 posed Island was Florida. 
 
 Ponce de Leon received in 1512 a grant to discover 
 and settle Bimini; he sailed from Puerto Rico in March 
 1513, discovered some of the Bahamas, coasted along the 
 Atlantic side to latitude 30° 8' N. and on Easter Sunday, 
 April 8th, landed and took possession, calling the country 
 Florida, from Pascua Florida, the Spanish name for 
 Palm Sunday. 
 
 He returned to Florida again in 1521, then attempting 
 to plant a colony, but was driven off by the Indians, be- 
 ing himself so badly wounded that he died shortly after 
 reaching the coast of Cuba. (Universal Cyclopaedia). 
 
 For the purpose of this play the author has not tried 
 to exactly conform with history. 
 
 64 
 
Act I. 
 
 Persons present: — The Duke of Granada, Fernando 
 Ortiz, Maximiliao Porras, PersMppio and Natal. {Scene 
 — a Florida glade or green with walks, rough huts in 
 background, palms, moss, etc. Natal and Perskippio 
 working on ropes and spars from the ship, the Duke 
 standing nearby watching them. Fernando and Maxi- 
 miliao standing to one side.) 
 
 The Duke: — ''Oh woe to Mni influenced by the per- 
 suasive powers of his fellow man ! For what purpose has 
 Ponce de Leon brought us to this strange new land? Con- 
 quest for the King of Spain, gold, gems mayhap? Bah! 
 For a water of eternal youth, for a water of life, said to 
 gush from a secret spring in some dark recess of these 
 palmetto woods. Indeed, I cannot understand how I were 
 ever such a fool as to embark on this foolish venture.'* 
 
 Maximiliao: — (aside to Fernando) ''The Duke's a fool 
 all right ; he don't have to tell us. Do you know, 'tis said 
 his every ducat of pocket-money is but by his wife's kind 
 permission. 
 
 Feenando: — "Softly, my dear Maximiliao, wait at 
 least, I pray thee, till the man is my father-in-law." 
 
 Pekskippio: — (looking up from his work) "Nay, your 
 Grace, if I may be so bold as to speak, I have great faith 
 in the man. He is such a long-headed man. Do you know, 
 that for fear that our stock of wine should not last till 
 our return to Spain, that the supply might not suffice 
 for the needs of the whole ship 's company, Ponce de Leon 
 had had brought along and consigned to my special care 
 golden grain from the rolling hills near Alhama, that he 
 
 65 
 
might distil spirit from it with his tubes, retorts and 
 queerly shaped vessels that were also given into my 
 charge. But, alas ! the great storm we so barely survived, 
 washed the sacks in which the grain was stored on the 
 after-deck into the sea, making all the sagacious fore- 
 thought of Ponce de Leon in vain. 
 
 A noble thing indeed is wise fore-thought; 
 But when it fails we count it all as naught." 
 
 The Duke: — "Hush, fool! But this loss of our grain 
 is indeed a serious matter. Natal, go and find your com- 
 mander and ask him to honor me with his presence that 
 we may find if this reported loss is indeed true, and have 
 from him his plans for finding this famed water of life 
 of which we are in search." {Laughs sarcastically.) 
 
 Natal: — ''Yes, your Grace." (Exit.) 
 
 (Fernando and Maximiliao, arm in arm, approach the 
 Duke and PersJcippio. Fernando drops Maximiliao' s arm 
 and respectfully addresses the Duke.) 
 
 Fernando: — "Your Grace, I do respectfully request 
 in marriage the hand of your daughter, the fair Drucila. 
 Mayhap ere this jou have known of my intentions, but 
 I deem it only right and proper that I should thus speak 
 to you." 
 
 The Duke: — "My dear Fernando, thou art a comely 
 youth and one I indeed think most well of, but knowest 
 thou not that Drucila 's hand is promised to Ponce de 
 Leon, on condition, however, that he find this fabled 
 spring, partake of its waters, and be made young again, 
 
 66 
 
and like to my daughter in all the fresh appearances of 
 youth and strength." 
 
 {Fernando and Maximiliao laugh together long and 
 heartily.) 
 
 Maximiliao: — ''Why, your Grace, could indeed this 
 water be found possessed of all its boasted charms, I 
 doubt if could a barrel of it in any way affect that old 
 and withered Ponce de Leon." 
 
 Peeskippio: — "Old and withered, but very much a 
 man. ' ' 
 
 The Duke: — "Silence, fool! Speak not unless thou 
 art addressed." 
 
 Fernando: — "Can your Grace be serious in this mad 
 proposal?" 
 
 The Duke: — "Thou knowest the word of the Duke of 
 Granada is his bond ; but hush, for here now comes Ponce 
 de Leon himself. ' ' 
 
 (Enter Ponce de Leon followed hy Natal. Fernando 
 and Maximiliao nod coolly. The Duke addresses Ponce 
 de Leon.) {Note: — Ponce de Leon was at this time in his 
 fifty-third year. He should he represented, more or less, 
 distinctly old, with slight limp, cane, etc., so that the 
 transformation that takes place before the audience in 
 the latter part of this act may he all the more apparent.) 
 
 The Duke: — "I am indeed chagrined to hear of the 
 loss of our grain in the storm, grain that thou hadst 
 intended to distil into spirits to supplement the supply 
 for ourselves and our companions in this foreign land. 
 Thinkest thou, Ponce de Leon, that thou wilt be success- 
 
 67 
 
fill in making what wine we now have last while we are 
 in this uncivilized country?" 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — ''Alas no, your Grace, for, by the 
 same token, I have ill news to impart to you. The sailors, 
 during the last few hot nights, have, I find, broken into 
 the supply, and, with that desire peculiar to the human 
 race, were not in a mood to cease their maraudering till 
 the last bottle had been emptied. 
 
 It is therefore of all the more import that we find 
 this Spring of the water of life, for in it we may find 
 effects that we should not otherwise have until our return 
 to Spain." 
 
 The Duke : — ' ' Therefore, Ponce de Leon, our hopes in 
 you are now doubly centered." 
 
 Pekskippio : — (Interrupting.) 
 
 ''Oh, nohle Ponce de Leon, may you he 
 Ever successful o'er this unknown sea; 
 
 Mayhap the land Columbus did discover, 
 Holds graft for you — as well as any other." 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' ' My good Perskippio, to answer you 
 in your own fashion : 
 
 I sailed not to new lands for sake of graft. 
 But just to laugh at those ivho at me laughed, 
 For in this life there is no thing so siveet, 
 As scoring those who prophesy defeat. 
 
 (Turning to the Duke.) 
 
 There is a water, Duke, prolonging life; 
 'Tis said that it luill end domestic strife." 
 
 68 
 
The Duke : — ' ' Aye, and a common sentiment, tho ' not 
 an especially Christian one. For in all human nature 
 there is that chaff with the wheat, that grain of resent- 
 ment at those who criticize our actions. But as to thy- 
 self, Ponce de Leon, wert thou a score of years less of 
 age, would look with favor on thy suit for the hand of my 
 daughter, the fair Drucila. See therefore that thou kind- 
 est this spring (since thou seemest not to care to divulge 
 thy plans of search) and shouldst thou fail, wilt have 
 thee branded as an impostor throughout my dukedom, 
 
 But should thy search he fruitful with success, 
 My daughter's hand is thine — and happiness." 
 
 {Exeunt the Du'ke, Fernando and Maximiliao. Fer- 
 nando and Maximiliao turning to laugh at Ponce de Leon, 
 the Duke departing with dignity.) 
 
 Perskippio : — 
 
 "Age is a thing of which a woman knows not; 
 
 In marriage woman reapeth where she sows not. 
 
 Could I but find that water like to boose 
 
 jVo other man would occupy my shoes. 
 
 No wife of mine would ever talk divorce, 
 
 She'd stand for me and I for her, of course." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — {Walks over and slaps Perskippio 
 heavily but good naturedly across the shoulders with his 
 cane, making him stagger. Natal hides a smile with his 
 hand.) ''Thou must ever have thy joke, my good Per- 
 skippio, though I have ever counted you as one who be- 
 lieves in me and my project. ' ' 
 
 69 
 
Pekskippio: — ''Yes, Senor, I do indeed believe in you, 
 for I have ever considered you a long-headed man, 
 
 And one to have his way by hook or crook, 
 
 E'en though his wife make him discharge the cook. 
 
 But hark ye, Senor, I do hear footsteps approaching, 
 For here does come the fair Drucila and others with her. * * 
 
 (Enter Drucila and her maid Camila, followed by the 
 Duchess on the arm of Father Justino.) 
 
 Drucila: — {Affectedly raising a lorgnette.) *'Ah, let 
 me see, this is Ponce de Leon, is it not!" 
 
 Camila: — [Soto Voce.) "Yes, Seiiorita, 'tis Ponce de 
 Leon, and old enough, I faith, to be thy great grandsire. ' ' 
 
 Drucila: — "Good day to you, Senor Ponce de Leon, 
 they tell me that thou art in quest of a water of eternal 
 youth. How sweet 'twould be if thou couldst find it and 
 give some to my father, my good, dear old father, who 
 would ever thus remain without the further ravages of 
 age, 
 
 Or e'en might be restored to his sweet youth, 
 A lucky thing — or for a swain, forsooth." 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — (Boiving.) 
 
 "I'll search o'er every land beneath the skies, 
 To give him youth, me favor in your eyes." 
 
 Duchess: — "Oh, noble Ponce de Leon, thou art indeed 
 a charming swain. And had not my many and easily 
 perceived charms forced me into early marriage with the 
 Duke to avoid the importunities of innumerable suitors, 
 and were I now in Drucila 's place, would look with great 
 
 70 
 
favor upon thy suit. But, aside from wishing you suc- 
 cessful in whatever ventures you propose, I do assure 
 you that I have no interest whatever in this water of 
 youth, for it can be readily appreciated that with my 
 youth and many charms it would be entirely superflu- 
 ous. ' ' 
 
 {Note — The Duchess should he represented as old, 
 stout and not at all good-looking.) 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' * Thou art indeed a flower, Duchess, 
 a fine flower, an English flower, a sun flower mayhap, and 
 one that holds its seeds of life with great tenacity, and 
 stands broad and strong in all its beauty, defying time." 
 
 The Duchess: — {Smirking.) *'0h, noble Ponce de 
 Leon!" 
 
 Father Justing : — 
 
 ''Aye, a nohle man admiring beauty. 
 And ivith it all a fitting sense of duty." 
 
 Perskippio: — ^'I will not, because it is my duty." 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ^ ' Hush, fool. ' ' 
 
 Drucila: — ''Well, adieu, Ponce de Leon, we go in 
 search of the Duke, Maximiliao and Fernando. Fernando 
 has promised to make me a basket of Palmetto leaves," 
 
 {Exeunt the Duchess, Father Justino, Drucila and 
 Camila.) 
 
 {Camila turns and throws a rose at Perskippio. Natal 
 and Perskippio grab for it. Perskippio gets it and places 
 it in his bosom.) 
 
 71 
 
{Enter Chief Afraid of his Squaw, Black Hawk and 
 Starlight. Perskippio and Natal retreat in terror behind 
 Ponce de Leon, Perskippio falling in his haste.) 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — ''Fear not, men, the savages are, I 
 believe, kindly disposed, else they would not have brought 
 the maiden with them." 
 
 Perskippio: — ''Kindly disposed towards annexing our 
 scalps, yes." 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' ' Good day. Oh, noble chief, I do bow 
 my most deep respects to you, to you the head of the 
 mighty tribe of Seminoles in this strange land you call 
 Bimini. May our races ever be in friendly rivalry for 
 what good this land can produce for the King of Spain. ' ' 
 
 The Chief: — "Ugh, Chief Afraid of his Squaw fears 
 and bows to none save she who rules his wigwam." 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' ' But, chief, for what purpose come 
 you here amongst us if not for friendly greetings?" 
 
 Chief: — "Big chief only talk white chief. Big Chief 
 Afraid of his Squaw hunt white Chief Ponce de Leon." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "Happily indeed, for this is Ponce 
 de Leon who now stands before you. ' ' 
 
 {The Chief bows to the ground. Black Hawk draws his 
 blanket around him and does not bow.) 
 
 Starlight: — "Oh, father, how beautiful is the white 
 Chief." 
 
 The Chief: — "Away, maiden, away to the ruler of my 
 wigwam. Squaw told Chief send back soon." {Exit 
 Starlight, looking long and smilingly at Ponce de Leon. 
 Black Hawk steps forward in a threatening manner, but 
 the Chief pushes him back.) 
 
 72 
 
The Chief: — ''Oh, white chief, Black Hawk tell Chief 
 Afraid of his Squaw white chief come Bimini hunt spring 
 eternal youth. Oh, great white chief, Chief Afraid of his 
 Squaw friend, no want white chief have heap trouble. 
 Indians long hunt spring. No spring youth. No water 
 life, heap big joke — Ugh." 
 
 Black Hawk: — ''Heap big joke, ugh, ugh." 
 
 Ponce de Leoist: — {Brokenly.) "Oh, great chief, tell 
 me, tell me, I implore you, that you speak in jest. Pray 
 dash not thus my hopes of finding this fabled spring." 
 
 The Chief: — "White chief no hope. No spring youth 
 Bimini. ' ' 
 
 {Ponce de Leon leans on PersJcippio's shoulder and 
 sohs.) 
 
 Peeskippio : — 
 
 "Weep not, oh Sire, for the thing's not ended. 
 For many things are broken — and yet mended." 
 
 PoisrcE DE Leon: — "Oh, worthy Perskippio, thou art 
 indeed more of a man than I." 
 
 The Chief: — "White chief no be sad. Go back Spain. 
 White chief big chief Spain. Many Squaw, many pa- 
 poose. Leave Seminoles Bimini, hunt deer, bear, turkey, 
 with bow and arrow, make blankets, make heap good mats 
 and huts, pick wild fruits, grow grain, Indian com Semi- 
 noles call, grow — " 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — {Eagerly and loudly.) "Stop Chief! 
 Stop at once, I command thee! Didst thou say grain? 
 Grain! By Saint Jago — the very thing Perskippio, of 
 which we are in need ! Take me Chief, I beseech thee, to 
 where this grain is growing." 
 
 73 
 
Perskippio : — 
 
 "Said I not, Sire, that broken things get mended, 
 And that the story was not fully ended!" 
 
 The Chief : — ' ' Ugh, no take white chief. Chief Afraid 
 of his Squaw want white chief go back Spain. White 
 chief get grain, stay in land Seminoles call Bimini." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — {Producing purse of gold.) ''Chief, 
 I will give thee fifty golden ducats if thou wilt but lead 
 me to where this ripened grain is nourished." 
 
 The Chief : — "Not much heap, make two times heap — 
 yes ! ' ' 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "Well, here art then one hundred 
 golden ducats. Quick, Natal, go thou with Perskippio 
 and fetch my stills, worms, retorts and carboys of liquids, 
 that we may see if this Indian grain may be distilled and 
 have spirit for all here assembled. And see that thou 
 both observe the caution of saying naught of this matter 
 to anyone." 
 
 Perskippio: — "Aye, Sire, we shall be as mum as the 
 grave. ' ' 
 
 {Exeunt Natal and Perskippio.) 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' ' Oh Chief, at how great a distance 
 grows this grain you call Indian com? My very heart 
 yearns for a sight of it, and for the opportunity of ap- 
 plying my skill in the distilling art my very throat does 
 parch. ' ' 
 
 The Chief : — ' ' Not heap far, white chief. In hills back 
 palmetto woods. Maiden Starlight run there two winks. 
 Heap fine maiden. Starlight. White chief got squaw?" 
 
 74 
 
Black Hawk: — (Furiously) *'Ugli, Starlight squaw 
 Black Hawk. Get enough wampum two moons. Ugh, 
 ugh, ugh!" 
 
 Ponce de Leoij^: — ''No, chief. Ponce de Leon has no 
 wife. 
 
 And. since there is no spring for him to find, 
 The chance of wife for him is left behind, 
 
 Unless there he some other chance or show. 
 As indicated by Pershippio 
 Who now returns; so let us quickly bring 
 The still to where the grain is ripening/' 
 
 (As Ponce de Leon finishes these lines, Natal and Per- 
 shippio enter, bearing stills, retorts, carboys, etc. The 
 Chief and Black Hawk bow low before Ponce de Leon.) 
 
 The Chief : — ' ' Oh, great white chief ! White chief heap 
 big medicine man." 
 
 Black Hawk: — ''Ugh, ugh, ugh! Heap bad medicine." 
 {Makes awful faces and contortions.) 
 
 Peeskippio: — "Here we are. Sire; with all things 
 safely brought." 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' ' Forward then, all, and let no man 
 say aught of this discovery." 
 
 {Exeunt Ponce de Leon, Chief Afraid of his Squaw, 
 Black Hawk, Natal and Perskippio. Natal, Perskippio 
 and Black Hawk carry the distilling apparatus, the latter 
 with the greatest apparent awe.) 
 
 {Enter chorus of Indian maidens in loose Indian cos- 
 tumes, moccasins. Maidens with long, flowing black hair. 
 Sing songs on subject generally, or songs to be inserted 
 or suggested by management. First song as follows : — ) 
 
 75 
 
We are some little Indian maids, 
 
 We love to flirt with Indian braves, 
 Within the dark palmetto shades 
 
 Where Ponce de Leon ever craves 
 That water in this land. 
 And when it's found our Indian braves 
 Will have a lot of sand — 
 Will have a lot of sand. 
 
 Now Ponce de Leon seems to think 
 
 That water good for thirst. 
 For aged people, too — we ivink — 
 
 [Chorus wink at audience.'] 
 
 Our braves will scalp him first. 
 They'll make him stop his big bazzoo 
 
 About eternal youth. 
 And leave this country, fair and new. 
 
 To redskin love and truth. 
 Yes, leave us all in peace behind 
 
 A-watching from the sand. 
 And he'll regret he came to find 
 
 That water in this land. 
 
 We are some little Indian girls, 
 
 We flirt and play with Indian boys, 
 We comb our flowing raven curls 
 
 With fins and shells and other toys 
 We find upon the strand — 
 And what care we for beads of glass 
 
 Brought from, a foreign land — 
 Brought from a foreign land! 
 
 76 
 
Noiv Ponce de Leofi wants to change 
 
 Our simple native ways; 
 He next our dresses will arrange 
 
 And have us laced in stays. 
 He'll have us knot our flowing hair 
 
 As maidens come from Spa/in, 
 Or have us tiny slippers wear 
 
 That cause exceeding pain. 
 But ivell we hnoiv our Indians yet 
 
 Will drive him from, the strand, 
 And he'll regret he came to get 
 
 That water in this land. 
 
 We are some little Indian girls, 
 
 We flirt and play with Indian hoys, 
 We comb our flowing raven curls 
 
 With fins and shells and other toys 
 We find upon the strand — 
 And what care we for heads of glass 
 Brought from a foreign land — 
 Brought from a foreign land! 
 {Exeunt chorus.) 
 
 {Enter Nancy Drucila, carrying a hashet made of pal- 
 meto leaves, followed hy Fernando.) 
 
 Deucila: — "Love me, you say, Fernando? And so 
 says Ponce de Leon. Pie, at least, endeavors to find the 
 water of youth that he may be more acceptable to me and 
 also fulfill the conditions imposed by my father, the Duke; 
 but what have you done to prove this love of yours you 
 speak of? You make me a basket of palmetto leaves and 
 let it rest at that. ' ' 
 
 77 
 
Fernando: — ''Prove it, Nancy! Thou well knowest 
 that I would go through fire to prove it, or gladly ac- 
 complish any task thou shouldst care to set me." 
 
 Drucila: — "You mean it, Sefior?" 
 
 Fernando: — "I hope you do indeed believe me when 
 I say so." 
 
 Drucila: — "Well, Fernando, I do not love Ponce de 
 Leon, nor can I ever do so. {Fernando attempts to draw 
 Drucila to him, but she repels him.) But knowest well 
 my father's word is law and just as much his bond, and 
 should by any evil chance Senor Juan be successful in 
 his quest 
 
 This water will, alas, be my undoing. 
 
 And I condemned to weeping nights and rueing." 
 
 Fernando: — "Oh, poor, sweet, Drucila." 
 Drucila: — "But mark you well, Fernando, while I 
 look with favor on thy suit, I do give thee yet naught of 
 promise, but charge thee to be ever vigilant and watchful 
 of this Ponce de Leon person, for he is a sagacious man, 
 and one to leave no stone unturned in accomplishing his 
 desires. Watch thou, therefore, that he impose not upon 
 the Duke, 
 
 And thus impose upon my own sweet self 
 So I am doomed — and you go on the shelf!'' 
 
 Fernando: — "Oh, sweet Drucila! Never harm shall 
 come to you where watches thy Fernando. Dost know, 
 sweet Nancy Drucila, that I have composed a song espe- 
 cially for thee and would fain sing it proclaiming the 
 love I bear you." 
 
 78 
 
Dkucila: — ''Oh, please do, Fernando, I am all atten- 
 tion." 
 
 Feenando : — (Sings.) 
 
 Nancy, my Nancy, say, do you love mef 
 
 Will you not answer, will you not sayf 
 Well do I know you are far, far above me. 
 
 Well do I know you are brighter than day; 
 Still, oh my Nancy, how oft' have I told you 
 
 How great my love for you, how great is its sway; 
 Hear m.e, oh, hear me, 'tis no idle fancy. 
 
 Hear me, my darling, hear me I pray. 
 
 Oft' have I ivalhed in the gloaming beside you. 
 Longing to hold you at last in my arms; 
 
 Lucky, oh lucky, is he who shall bride you — 
 
 You with the wealth of your womanly charms; 
 
 Come to me, Nancy, no ill can betide you — 
 
 Come and but love me and rest in my arms. 
 
 Nancy, when with you I ever am better. 
 
 For moves all around you a holier air; 
 Free! I am free from, each fastening fetter. 
 
 As free as a spirit for pouring a prayer. 
 Nancy, hoiv deeply, how deeply your debtor 
 
 You make me, dispelling my sin and my care; 
 Nancy, come Nancy, 'twere better, much better. 
 
 To cancel all owing and start on the square. 
 
 Nancy, my Nancy, say, do you love mef 
 Will you not answer, ivill you not sayf 
 
 Well do I know you are far, far above me. 
 
 Well do I know you are brighter than day; 
 
 79 
 
still, oh my Nancy, hoiv oft' have I told you 
 
 How great my love for you, how great is its sway; 
 
 Hear me, oh, hear me, 'tis no idle fancy. 
 Hear me, my darling, hear me I pray. 
 
 Dktjcila: — "Oh, dear Fernando, that's just too cute 
 and perfect for anytliing. Forward! Courage! Be of 
 good cheer!" {Exit Drucila, throwing a hiss to Fer- 
 nando, Fernando running after her.) 
 
 {Enter Ponce de Leon, Chief Afraid of his Squaw, 
 Black Hawk, Natal and Perskippio. Ponce de Leon hold- 
 ing aloft a quart bottle {white glass) of the spirit result- 
 ing from the distilling. Chief Afraid of his Squaw 
 carrying on his shoulder a five gallon, clear glass bottle 
 of the same liquor. Both bottles of quaint, queer old 
 fashioned shapes.) 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — '* Triumph! Triumph, Perskippio! 
 Great the achievement of man's science in this modern 
 age. And look ye. Natal, {holding up the bottle) 'tis 
 as white and clear as where the moonlight plays on Es- 
 panol's lakes! We'll call this spirit moonshine. Oh 
 Chief, 'twas wisely spended gold that did induce thee 
 to inform me where those corn fields lay! But now to 
 put our labor to the test, to see if all its fruits fill all 
 desires. {Ponce de Leon removes stopper of the quart 
 bottle he carries, and takes a swalloiv of the liquor. A 
 gratified smile passes over his features, and placing his 
 hand on his heart he bows to the Chief and Perskippio 
 in turn.) The very nectar of the gods is this sweet moon- 
 shine! {Drinks again.) And ah, Perskippio, it does burn 
 
 80 
 
like fire, and run through all my veins with warmth. How 
 long it seems since those maraudering rogues consumed 
 the last supply. {Drinks again, straightens up, smiles 
 and expands his chest.) Why Chief, I feel as I had 
 dropped a score of years, warmed as I am by this sweet 
 moonshine, precious child of my own distilling!" {Looks 
 at bottle fondly.) 
 
 Peeskippio: — ''And truly younger thou indeed dost 
 seem, Sire! 'Twould seem thy features lose a look of 
 strain. Thy step does seem more sprightly and thine eye 
 
 Dost glisten as a hoy's let out of school! 
 
 Why should not this exception prove the rule 
 Of thy great honor? May not moonshine he 
 The hunted water of eternity. 
 Discovered sudden hy some lucky fluke — 
 To put one over on that pompous Duke." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "Oh noble, noble, good Perskippio! 
 Oh brilliant man of all the arts and charms that never 
 faileth me. I am young. I am young {throws away 
 his cane and does some graceful steps) and no more 
 shall the terrors of age assail me ! Eureka ! I am young ! 
 I have discovered the water of youth eternal. Glorious 
 happiness is in store for me. I shall marry the Duke's 
 daughter, the fair Drucila, and with the still and cornfield 
 I shall secretly obtain supplies of this blessed moonshine, 
 and kll will be well with me in this happy land the Semi- 
 noles call Bimini. I am young — I am young — I am 
 young — I am young — I am young ! ! " 
 
 81 
 
{As Ponce de Leon thus expresses his youth, he jumps 
 around the stage in a most lively manner, upsets Natal, 
 clasps Chief Afraid of his Squaiv in his arms in a wild 
 embrace {the Chief evidently most greatly astonished) 
 slaps Black Haivk heavily on the hack. Black Hawk 
 scowls most terribly and draws his blanket tighter around 
 his shoulders. Perskippio doubled with laughter.) 
 
 Black Hawk: — ''Ugh, heap bad medicine, Chief. 
 White chief make war dance. Black Hawk get sclap, 
 what say?" {Draws knife.) 
 
 Chief : — ' ' No make war dance. White chief heap glad. 
 Wait!" 
 
 {While the Indians are talking, as above, Ponce de 
 Leon sivaggers up and down the stage in the most boyish 
 manner.) 
 
 Perskippio: — ''It would be well to hurry Sire, for we 
 know not at what moment some one may approach." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "Right thou art, good, wise Per- 
 skippio. Natal, this affair must be kept one of strictest 
 secrecy. Dost mark me well and understand com- 
 pletely?" 
 
 Natal: — "Would he whose life you saved along Ba- 
 hama's shore betray thee?" 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "All, how sweet and true the friend- 
 ship of devoted allies. I do drink to it in this clear moon- 
 shine that has made me young again!" {Drinks, corks 
 bottle and puts it away in breast pocket of his coat.) 
 
 Chief : — ' ' Wliite chief no find spring youth ! Find In- 
 dian corn. Make bad medicine, ugh! Heap big secret. 
 No talk, want heap wampum!" 
 
 82 
 
Ponce de Leon : — ' ' What ! Canst not see that I am no 
 longer a rich, old man! I am but a boy, a mere youth, 
 with my possessions but my youth and strength and for- 
 tune yet before me to be made. Gold ! I have no gold, 
 for I am but a boy!" [Starts to whistle and spin around 
 on his heels.) 
 
 Chief : — ' * No wampum, make heap talk. Heavy Thun- 
 der tell chief get wampum! Heavy Thunder bad medi- 
 cine ! ' ' 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — (Handing his purse to the chief.) 
 ''Well, relentless one, take this, the last of a boy's allow- 
 ance — the last of his last allowance from his father; 
 (smiles at Perskippio.) Take it, but on the following 
 conditions only: Eemember, Chief, that I have discov- 
 ered the spring of the water of youth — that I am young, 
 always very, very young! Say naught of Indian com 
 and 'bad medicine' distilling, and remember that thou art 
 at all times to do as I command thee." 
 
 The Chief: — "Ugh! White Chief heap young brave, 
 Chief Afraid of his Squaw no talk! What white chief 
 want Seminole do?" 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "Hide at once, in yon thick clump 
 of ferns beyond the tall palmetto palm — (points) my 
 precious moonshine. And hasten, Chief, for hear I not 
 the voice of the fair Drucila talking to Fernando — and 
 others with themi" (The Chief hastens to the bed of 
 ferns and quickly hides the five gallon bottle, Black Hawk 
 watching him closely. He returns to Ponce de Leon mak- 
 ing strange passes with his arms. As he finishes these 
 gestures there enter Drucila on the arm of Fernando, 
 followed by Camila. The Duchess enters on the arm of 
 Maximiliao, the Duke walks with Father Justino.) 
 
 83 
 
Ponce de Leon : — * ' Oh Duke, oh fair Drucila, oh 
 Duchess, oh holy Father Justino, and you young men of 
 mine own age and degree — look at me and listen. I have 
 discovered the spring of the water of youth, have par- 
 taken of its waters, am young once more, and shall ever 
 thus remain! Oh Duke, if in thine heart thou didst 
 harbor doubts as to the success of this expedition, repent 
 now in sack-cloth and ashes ! 
 
 Oh, fair Drucila, naught shall mar 
 
 Our happiness today, 
 For I have found the spring of youth 
 
 And love will find the way." 
 
 {Ponce de Leon takes Drucila' s hand in his and at- 
 tempts to dratv her to him, hut she breaks away and runs 
 to Fernando. Fernando steps up to Ponce de Leon in a 
 threatening manner, hut Juan roughly pushes him hack, 
 when the Duke interferes.) 
 
 The Duke: — ''It is indeed wonderful, Ponce de Leon. 
 I can scarce believe my eyes. Wonderful ! Wonderful ! ' ' 
 
 The Duchess : — ' ' And said I not thou wert a charming 
 swain? And now so young! No cane, no limp, that glad 
 young smile ! Now thou art doubly charming and mind- 
 est me of one of my favorite suitors, ere I had wed the 
 Duke. Poor youth, he killed himself for love of me." 
 
 Fathee Justing: — "Holy Mary! What change hath 
 the good Virgin worked in thee, Ponce de Leon?" 
 
 Maximiliao {aside to Fernando): — ''Verily younger, 
 Fernando, yet I would not fear him at the small swords." 
 
 The Duke : — ' ' Seiior Juan, this is indeed a most mar- 
 
 84 
 
vellous discovery, and one reflecting very greatly to thy 
 credit. My daughter's hand is thine. An altar shall he 
 built of hewn cypress limbs 
 
 And wedded thou shalt he upon the morrow, 
 In youth and happiness — with never sorrow." 
 
 {As the Duke pronounces these last words Drucila falls 
 hack in a faint in Fernanda's arms, hut recovers imme- 
 diately.) 
 
 Fernando: — (aside to Drucila) ^'Oh, my poor Dru- 
 cila, I fear thou art lost. Wilt fly with me?" 
 
 Deucila: — {Answers aside) ''Nay, Fernando, my 
 father's word is law." 
 
 Father Justino : — ' ' But tell us, my son, how and where 
 the spring was found. ' ' 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' ' Good father, your grace, dear Dru- 
 cila and all here assembled, let me assure you it was a 
 most arduous task, taxing my well-laiown courage and 
 resource to the utmost. Informed, as I was by this good 
 Seminole chief, of the approximate location of the spring, 
 away we went through the palmetto forests, staggered, 
 at times waist-deep, through swamps able to be pene- 
 trated but by the very bravest — swamps filled with crea- 
 tures like to giant lizards — till we came at length to bare, 
 dry, upward-sloping ground, ending in a series of enor- 
 mous rocks, capped by a flinty pinnacle to the height of 
 a ship's mast! At the most imminent peril of our lives, 
 Perskippio alone with me, we succeeded in climbing and 
 dragging ourselves to the apex of this rocky fortress — 
 and there, ah there — ^with a trickling over-flow of not 
 
 85 
 
sufficient volume to be perceived from the ground beneath 
 — there lay the crystal waters of the spring of eternal 
 youth!" 
 
 {The Duke, the Duchess and Father Justino, Per- 
 skippio and Natal and Camila in chorus:) — "Bravo! 
 Bravo ! Wonderful ! Wonderful ! ' ' 
 
 Fernando : — ' ' Why, Ponce de Leon, thy dress doth give 
 the lie to all thy statements. Thou look'st as thou had 
 strolled in Madrid, not through swamps." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "Who says I lie! By Saint Jago, 
 I will bear that from no man lest it be with blood." 
 (Draivs short siuord.) 
 
 Perskippio : — ' ' Softly gentlemen, softly, I pray thee — 
 if I may be so bold as to speak. It seems there is but 
 a misunderstanding here. Knowest not, Senor Fernando, 
 that Perskippio is a valet worthy of his salt, and had 
 fresh clothing laid out for Senor Juan against our re- 
 turn?" 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' ' Quite true, Perskippio, thou art in- 
 deed a good and ready servant." 
 
 Fernando: — "I do retract my statements as to thy 
 dress, Senor Ponce de Leon. But I would still fain see 
 this water of which you speak. ' ' 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "And that thou shalt, and right 
 quickly, young man! {Draws the bottle from his breast) 
 For here it is, some of that fair water of eternal youth! 
 And see, it is as clear and white as is upon a lake the 
 moonshine!" {Ponce de Leon drinks, smiles youthfidly 
 and gaily, and puts the bottle back in his breast. Ex- 
 clamations of delight and astonishment from the Duke, 
 
 86 
 
Father Justino, the D'uchess, Camila, Natal and Per- 
 skippio. While these exclamations and congratulations 
 are taking place, Black Hawk glides to the fern hed, 
 entirely unobserved, and exits with the large bottle of 
 liquor hidden there.) 
 
 {Enter Heavy Thunder with a half-completed mat in 
 her hand. She rushes at Chief Afraid of his Squaw and 
 strikes at him several tim,e with the mat. The Chief 
 crouches behind Natal, Heavy Thunder still pursuing 
 him. The others present most greatly astonished.) 
 
 Heavy Thundee : — ' ' Ugh ! Chief heap big fool ! Where 
 Starlight? Told send Starlight back. Chief fool, heap 
 fool, heap big fool ! Ugh!" {Enter Starlight.) 
 
 Staelight: — *' Starlight hide palmetto palms. Watch 
 white chief." {Smiles longly at Ponce de Leon. Heavy 
 Thunder slaps her and looks relieved.) 
 
 The Duke: — "Oh, noble Ponce de Leon, by this thy 
 feat in the realm of discovery, thou shalt surely be im- 
 mortal throughout all history. Drucila, come hither! 
 There, place thy hand in that of Ponce de Leon. {Places 
 her hand in his as they stand facing the audience.) My 
 children, may ye be ever happy and prosperous, and may 
 ye both, by the aid of this marvelous discovery, remain 
 young and unaffected by the ravages of time and change. 
 Father Justino, bless them at once, I command thee." 
 
 {Father Justino steps forward and raises his hands 
 over the couple. Drucila, her hand in Ponce de Leon's, 
 stands with her face turned aside, looking at Fernando 
 
 87 
 
with an expression of deep despair. Ponce de Leon, 
 beaming youthfully, opens the breast of his coat slightly 
 and gazes at the bottle. Chorus of cheers and congratula- 
 tions from the Duchess, Camila, the Duke, Natal and Per- 
 skippio; 'Ughs' from the Indians.) 
 
 Perskippio: — {Who has edged forward to the front 
 of the stage, turns and points with an extended arm at 
 Ponce de Leon and Drucila.) 
 
 "Here they stand, the happy couple; 
 
 Marriages are made above; 
 Here are hearts and hands united 
 
 In a world of love! 
 Let me sing a little ditty 
 
 On this water fair of youth. 
 That the happy man and maiden 
 
 May know all the truth. 
 
 (Sings.) 
 
 Oh, the water of life, oh, the water of life. 
 
 It's the finest I ever have seen; 
 Now I haven't a wife, but you bet, on your life. 
 
 If I had one I'd think her a queen. 
 I'd joke and I'd laugh and I'd stand for her gaff 
 
 Though the hour be morning or noon; 
 When the dame would, suspec' me, and therefore henpeck 
 me. 
 
 That water would be a great boon, great boon — 
 Oh, that water would be a great boon! 
 
 88 
 
We would never have fights over woman's rights, 
 
 There would never he war and woes, 
 We'd he sure to forget the suffragette 
 
 Idea, where that water flows; 
 And we never would go to far Reno 
 
 To ruin a home and life. 
 For there never could he an affinity 
 
 With the water of life, of life, of life. 
 With the water of life, of life. 
 
 I'd return from the cluh without fear of a druh 
 
 Though the clock strike the hour of three. 
 No wife on the stair would he waiting me there 
 
 Demanding alimony; 
 For there never could he incompatihility, 
 
 In our domicile stress or strife. 
 We'd he sure to agree in sweet unity 
 
 On the water of life, of life, of life. 
 
 On the water of life, of life." 
 
 (Curtain.) 
 
Act II. 
 
 {Scene: — A sylvan dell in Florida. In the rear centre 
 of the stage a lake. In front of it an altar of hewn cy- 
 press limbs decked with garlands and native flowers. 
 Across the right end of the stage lies the large fallen 
 trunk of a hollow tree, a fern bed having groivn up along 
 its entire length on the side furthest from the stage centre. 
 At the left of the stage may be observed in the distant 
 scenery one end of the line of rough huts — as in the first 
 act. Persons present: — Perskippio and Natal. Per- 
 skippio seated on the log, Natal standing near-by gazing 
 at the newly erected altar, holding in his hand an axe.) 
 
 Pekskippio : — ' ' Oil Natal, my back does ache. {Placing 
 hand on the small of his back.) I have culled strange 
 flowers and blossoms and have woven wreathes till I fain 
 would rest my weary limbs." 
 
 Natal : — ' ^ And I, I have toiled with this axe, erecting 
 yon holy contrivance till I think, saving Mary's grace, 
 that I do hate the very sight of it. Strange work for a 
 sailor man and not a fitting one. And yet, for Ponce de 
 Leon, I would do as much again and more. ' ' 
 
 Perskippio: — ''Aye, a noble gentleman, in whose serv- 
 ice I am most proud to be engaged. I hope our plans 
 do not miscarry in this contriving for the fulfillment of 
 his desires." 
 
 Natal : — ' ' Oh, never fear that there may be mischance. 
 'Tis all this ceremony I condemn. Faith, when I took 
 the lass I left in Spain, I walked her to the priest at his 
 commands, or rather she walked me, that we be wed. 
 
 90 
 
But it were ever thus, the rich in pride 
 
 Do ivhat the poor have not the price to hide." 
 
 Pekskippio : — ' ' Thou art an evil-minded rogue and one 
 not at all to my liking. And yet I hope that in the lady 
 Ponce de Leon may not be deceived. They say a cat with 
 softest fur has sharpest claws." 
 
 Natal: — ''And think you then they'll fight, as do most 
 men of wealth with dames of blood? I tell thee, Per- 
 skippio, it doth seem that gladly-mated pairs be wretched 
 poor and of a station like to our degree." 
 
 Perskippio: — ''Of that I rightly know not, but what 
 thou sayest may have in it much of truth. And yet all 
 will be well with Ponce de Leon as long as naught de- 
 stroys or interrupts a constant supply of that good moon- 
 shine for his use, for then he can laugh, and he who does 
 naught but laugh with a woman, my good Natal, must 
 perforce be reasonably safe from her displeasures." 
 
 Natal : — ' ' God grant that it may be. Now I must leave 
 for where my comrades wait on the St. John's. 
 
 For there our good ship safely rides the flow 
 Of ehb and flood, unheeding all the while, 
 
 Vicissitudes of human strife and woe 
 
 Engendered but by vanity and guile." 
 
 {Exit Natal.) 
 
 Perskippio: — {Places his head in his hands and shakes 
 it in grave thought. Rises, stretches out his arms and 
 yawns heavily. He addresses himself as follows — ) 
 
 "Very true, 'good, wise, noble' Perskippio, very true 
 
 91 
 
indeed. But if thou art to remain 'good,' 'wise/ 'noble' 
 in the eyes of thy master thou must be ever vigilant and 
 watchful lest aught should arise to combat his plans. I do 
 have most grave doubts of these Seminoles, and as to what 
 of truth their word may hold. {Sits down again upon 
 the log.) But the still, oh, the still, I love it still, though 
 it does not make us still; but when it is still after it's 
 stilling, it is still stilling our worry and care." {Per- 
 skippio yaivns again and. stretches out at full length on 
 the log. He draws his hat over his face and in a moment 
 commences to snore most loudly. There is then plainly 
 heard in the wing stamping moccasined feet of Indians 
 dancing and chanting. (Ugh ugh ugh, ugh ugh ugh, 
 ugh ugh ugh, ugh ugh ugh.) Perskippio awakens, and 
 raises on his elbow with a startled expression on his face. 
 He draws his hat tightly down on his head and listens. 
 As the Indians enter the stage, he rolls, entirely unob- 
 served, from the log into the tall ferns and lies hidden 
 there.) 
 
 {Enter Chief Afraid of his Squaw and Black Hawk, 
 the latter carrying the large five gallon bottle of moon- 
 shine. They should run on the stage ivith the character- 
 istic crouching gait of war dancing Indians, their bodies 
 bent forivard, their faces turned to the audience.) 
 
 The Chief and Black Hawk in chorus: — 
 
 *'Ugh, ugh, ugh, Indians know 
 White chief Ponce de Leon go 
 
 Hunt spring youth, get young again — 
 
 Find it through bad medicine. 
 
 92 
 
Seminoles hide the moonshine water, 
 Chief no marry big brave's daughter: 
 
 Get big heap of wampum first, 
 
 Ponce de Leon die of thirst — 
 Die, and Indians dance in glee; 
 Seminoles have their Bimini. 
 Ugh ugh ugh, ugh ugh ugh, ugh ugh ugh, ugh ugh ugh.*' 
 
 Black Hawk: — {Pointing at altar) ''More bad medi- 
 cine, Chief." 
 
 The Chief: — "Not bad medicine. Wliite man's heap 
 big jofee catch squaw." 
 
 Black Hawk: — "Ponce de Leon no catch Starlight — 
 get scalp first." {Feels the edge of his knife.) 
 
 The Chief: — "Black Hawk heap big fool, white chief 
 want white brave's daughter. Hide moonshine, two In- 
 dians get heap wampum. White chief say must have 
 moonshine, marry white maiden." 
 
 Black Hawk: — "Starlight make eyes Ponce de Leon 
 like fawn." 
 
 The Chief: — "Starlight heap young maiden — ^heap 
 fool. Hide moonshine in hollow tree. {Points) Bend 
 ferns round like Seminoles hide canoe. Moonshine safe 
 like bear in hole. White chief no find." 
 
 Black Hawk: — "Black Hawk hide moonshine in pal- 
 metto woods ; no good cache. Chief no fool, hide in tree. 
 
 >> 
 
 {Black Hawk hides the large bottle in the holloiv log 
 and carefully draws the ferns around the opening. The 
 Seminoles then examine the altar, the chief holding up 
 two of the ivreathes.) 
 
 93 
 
The Chief: — ''Look — white chief make moons." 
 {Laughs in guttural tone.) 
 
 Black Hawk: — (Placing a hand to his ear) "Listen! 
 Hear steps like wounded doe." 
 
 {Enter Ponce de Leon, his hand on his forehead, drag- 
 ging along with weary, shaking limbs.) 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' ' Discovered at last ! And after what 
 a weary search. And so thou hast betrayed me, thou 
 they callest chief of the mighty tribe of Seminoles. Be- 
 trayed me in wickedly purloining from its hiding place 
 that product of the distilling carefully secreted for my 
 use. By Saint Jago, I must have it back, and that right 
 quickly. Knowest thou naught of honor and that foul 
 treachery of such degree is worthy of the direst chastise- 
 ment at the hands of my men? Art thou then an Indian 
 giver, Chief?" 
 
 The Chief: — "White chief want moonshine, give more 
 wampum. Black Hawk, say white chief got heap gold. 
 No give big enough heap keep bad medicine secret." 
 
 Black Hawk : — ' ' Squaw tell chief get big heap. Heavy 
 Thunder no take joke like Starlight." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "More gold! Have I not told you 
 that my supply has already been exhausted in satisfying 
 your insatiate demands ? Dost think that I am the Duke 
 of Granada, rolling in a wealth of gold — producing lands 
 and vineyards enabling me to bribe and sway all little 
 men to whatever plans and uses I may care to set them?" 
 
 The Chief: — "Give more wampum, get moonshine, 
 then white maiden. White maiden got gold; give heap 
 back." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "No, no chief, on the honor of a 
 
 94 
 
Spaniard, I have no more ducats that I can give thee. 
 The day is set, the hour approaches, and this the very- 
 spot appointed for the ceremony. 
 
 Gaze then, oh Chief, upon yon holy altar, 
 
 For it is there I wed the Duke's fair daughter; 
 
 You ivould not see me old and weakly falter — 
 Give me, I pray, a drop of that sweet water." 
 
 The Chief: — ''White chief give more wampum, be 
 young again, marry pale-face maiden, go back Spain, 
 have big heap papooses, be heap happy — ^ugh!" 
 
 Ponce de Leo-st: — {Placing a hand on his throbbing 
 brow) "No longer tantalize me thus, oh chief, I beseech 
 thee. Again and again have I told you that I have no 
 more gold." 
 
 Black Hawk: — ''White chief heap big fool. No cry 
 like squaw. Go back white brave get more gold — then 
 Seminoles give moonshine." 
 
 The Chief: — "Ugh! Black Hawk no fool. Go chief, 
 Indians come two suns. Now go trail palmetto woods." 
 
 {Exeunt the Chief and Black Hawk at the left of the 
 stage. Ponce de Leon limping after them, rubbing his 
 forehead, calling, as follows.) 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "Just one drop. Chief, if no more, 
 just one little drop, I beseech thee. Just a drop, just a 
 drop, just a drop. ' ' 
 
 {Ponce de Leon limps toward the fallen tree with the 
 intention of seating himself thereon, when Perskippio 
 cautiously raises his head from his hiding-place, without 
 being observed by his master. He draws down again, 
 and as Juan approaches the seat pops up like a Jack- 
 in-the-box.) 
 
 95 
 
Perskippio : — * ' Boo — Sire ! ' ' 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — {Greatly startled — crossing himself) 
 ''Ah — 'tis thou then, varlet. And what art thou doing 
 here, rogue — hiding as one fearing the gallows, then 
 jumping out as a montebank at a country fair — what 
 meanest thou, sirrah?" 
 
 Perskippio : — ' ' ^VTiile no montebank, Sire, I am still a 
 quack in that I have a remedy to offer thee. Nay, Sir 
 Juan, it was but now upon this fallen tree. Natal just 
 departed to the ship, and all our work complete, I'd laid 
 me down to rest my tired limbs, when I was waked by 
 voices seeming strange and of a foreign tone to that we 
 know. ' ' 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — ''Go on; what next?" 
 
 Perskippio: — "While yet I heard, and ere they came 
 in sight, I rolled from off the log and hid me there in 
 yon tall ferns, and oh. Sir Juan, the Virgin must have 
 smiled when I was born, for those red Imaves with whom 
 you just have talked, placed in the very tree that hid my 
 form the stolen moonshine we have hunted so." 
 
 (Perskippio bends aside the ferns and draws out the 
 bottle.) 
 
 PoNCE DE Leon: — {Stepping forward eagerly and tak- 
 ing Perskippio 's hand in his.) ''Good, good, Persldppio, 
 this is indeed a providential find, for with the Indians 
 I could do naught, and was all but in despair. Thou wert 
 ever more the friend than servant, and, anon, will tell 
 thee how thy watchfulness in my interest doth touch my 
 heart with pride. But now there's little time that we 
 may waste, for I am but a wreck of what I was, a toy run 
 
 96 
 
down for want of moonshine oil, and oh, Perskippio, I 
 am but a babe for strength, with burning head — and 
 parched is my throat. I do tell thee that our native wines 
 are not to be compared for strength with this we have 
 distilled." 
 
 {Ponce de Leon, holding up the large bottle with an 
 effort, drinks deeply and smiles.) 
 
 Perskippio: — "I would drink more, and quickly. Sire, 
 for we know not when some-one may approach." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — ''Right thou art Perskippio, for 
 since we have started on this set campaign, we should 
 carry it out boldly. Do you hold the bottle while I sit me 
 on the log." {Perskippio holds up the large bottle to- 
 gether with Ponce de Leon, seated, who drinks deeply in 
 rapid swallows.) ' ' There ! That saved my life ! The cere- 
 mony starts some hours hence, and by that time I'm sure 
 to be as spry as any maid could wish of any swain. Yet 
 hold with me again to make it sure. {Together they again 
 lift the large bottle. Ponce de Leon seated, Perskippio 
 standing, while Juan drinks deeply.) "And now, that I 
 may keep myself just right, we'll fill the other bottle I 
 have kept, as the fond mem'ry of a long dead friend." 
 
 {Juan smiles foolishly and produces the small bottle 
 from his breast, holding it up to the light. He then 
 steadies it on the log while Perskippio fills it from the 
 large one. Juan, in a low tone, though plainly heard by 
 the audience, tells Perskippio not to spill any.) 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — {Having placed the small bottle in 
 his coat.) "And now, Perskippio, this large bottle, our 
 reserve, must be hidden, and that quickly. Go thou then 
 
 97 
 
with it to the hut of Father Justino, for we must take 
 no more chances, and tell him that it is from Ponce de 
 Leon, who requests him to care for and guard it against 
 tomorrow as he would guard the holy water of the church 
 itself. Victory is now in sight! We have won, we have 
 won, Perskippio! 
 
 And ere the sun has set will he the wedding, 
 To bring me happiness — or roughest sledding!" 
 
 Pekskippio: — ''Be it happiness, Sir Juan. 
 
 Thy biddings now I go to do, 
 
 And Sire, thou shalt surely know 
 
 That never harm can come to you 
 Where watches thy Perskippio." 
 
 {Exit Perskippio with the large bottle, Ponce de Leon 
 dancing gaily after him.) 
 
 {Enter chorus of Spanish maidens, ivho dance and sing 
 songs on the subject generally. Other songs to be in- 
 serted or suggested by the management.) First song as 
 follows: — ) 
 
 Out of the morn of maiden-hood. 
 Here in the world we tvait. 
 With just one thought that never is taught 
 
 But has come to us early or late; 
 That we're to be loved and wooed and sought — 
 Toys to be broken or mended again. 
 Gems to be cherished or scorned of men. 
 For such is a woman's fate — 
 Out of the morn of maiden-hood, 
 Here in the world we wait. 
 
 98 
 
'Twas sweet in the morn of maiden-hood 
 Though here in the world we wait; 
 
 With a mother to hear our every care 
 And safely guard our fate. 
 
 That dear old mother with silver hair, 
 
 With the patient ways and kindly face, 
 There's never another could take her place — 
 The place of a mother there. 
 
 From the mother's world in maiden-hood, 
 Here in the world we wait. 
 
 Because of the dreams of maiden-hood 
 
 Here in the world we wait. 
 In a girlish dream 'twill ever seem 
 
 That the man is true and great; 
 That heaven has righted the earthly scheme 
 
 In violet, jessamine, marigold. 
 
 And the world is small all truth to hold — 
 And we hold and hold to a dream: 
 Till, done with the dreams of maiden-hood. 
 
 Here in the world we wait. 
 
 Done with the dreams of maiden-hood, 
 
 Here in the ivorld loe wait; 
 To manage a match considered a catch 
 
 Or choose a happy mate; 
 Properly — no undue dispatch. 
 
 For that is the edict of fashion's way. 
 
 And ivhat would Mrs. Grundy say 
 
 Of the maid, the widower, or the "hatch?" 
 Done with the dreams of maiden-hood. 
 
 Here in the world we wait. 
 
 99 
 
Out of the morn of maiden-hood, 
 
 Here in the world ive wait; 
 Soon to he told that manifold 
 Tale that the gods relate — 
 Haplii hy valiant knight and bold, 
 
 Under the silvery moon and the trees, 
 
 Or yet in the parlor, the knight on his knees. 
 Or yet hy a, Ponce de Leon old — 
 Out of the morn of maiden-hood. 
 
 Here in the world we wait. 
 
 {Exeunt chorus.) 
 
 {Enter the Duke, the Duchess, Drucila, Ponce de Leon 
 and Camila, the Duchess and Drucila with pocket hand- 
 kerchiefs out, weeping and hysterical. Camila also 
 slightly affected.) 
 
 The Duchess: — *' There, there, never mind my dear, 
 for I know that thou shalt be very happy. So cry no 
 more dearie, for you should remember that your mother 
 will be ever ready to come to you and help smooth over 
 any little domestic troubles, should they arise. (Aside) 
 Children are always such a responsibility." 
 
 The Duke: — {Addressing Police de Leon) "Sir Juan, 
 you today have the honor to receive in marriage the 
 hand of my daughter. By your courage and pertinacity 
 you have been successful in your search, have found the 
 fabled spring, become young again and have thus filled 
 all my requirements toward winning thy suit for the fair 
 Drucila. Thou dost indeed appear as young and sprightly 
 as thou wert in the Granada campaign a score of years 
 
 100 
 
ago." {While the Duke thus addresses Ponce de Leon, 
 Drucila and her mother weep in each other's arms, and 
 as he finishes break out into loud hysterical crying.) 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — {Answering the Duke) ''Your G-race, 
 you shall ever find in me the model son-in-law, a model 
 husband for your daughter and ever a staunch and loyal 
 supporter of the arms you bear. {Addressing Drucila) 
 Oh fair Drucila, hard it is, I know, to bear the pangs 
 of separation from a fond and indulgent mother, but 
 know that dearer ties await thee, ties that every woman 
 must look forward to, and eventually hold more dear. 
 
 With my discovery of this blessed spring 
 A life of joy awaits — let sorrows wing." 
 
 {As Ponce de Leon smilingly finishes these lines, Dru- 
 cila starts to weep again and hides behind the Duchess' 
 shoulder. Ponce de Leon feigns astonishment.) 
 
 The Duchess: — ''Be reasonable Drucila, take cheer 
 and courage from Ponce de Leon. See how noble he is 
 and how proud at having won thy father's consent to thy 
 hand. There, there, my daughter, thou art not to lose 
 thy mother but are to acquire a husband to love and 
 cherish you equally well. How plainly do I remember 
 when I wedded the Duke, after having refused so many 
 scores of suitors, that I did have the same foolish pangs 
 at the time." {And here the Duchess produces her hand- 
 kerchief and commences to cry again most loudly.) 
 
 The Duke : — "Affairs do seem most well arranged and 
 fitting for so important a ceremony. Duchess, Drucila 
 child, I have had this altar builded and decked with these 
 
 101 
 
native flowers and garlands, and, in that we have not here 
 a church, with Father Justino and this builded shrine we 
 can, I think, make very fair shift. I do hope that you 
 both like it and approve, for it is all that we can do in 
 a strange land. But come now, it is time we went to robe 
 for the ceremony." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — *'Aye, your Grace, and I too. Adieu 
 then all, till we here meet an hour hence. ' ' 
 
 {Exit Ponce de Leon, bowing and smiling and throwing 
 a kiss to Drucila.) 
 
 Dkucila: — "Yes father, but leave me here a few mo- 
 ments I pray thee. And go thou too, dear mother, for 1 
 would rest here for a short while with Camila, to compose 
 myself. ' ' 
 
 Camila : — ' ' May she have her way, your Graces, and I 
 shall engage to bring her to you as straight as she does 
 seem to be the more composed. ' ' 
 
 {The Duchess kisses Drucila and takes the Duke's 
 arm.) 
 
 The Duke: — ''Adieu then, my daughter, and so we 
 shall expect you in brief time." {Exeunt the Duke and 
 Duchess.) 
 
 Camila: — {Taking Drucila' s hands in hers) "Grieve 
 not, dear mistress. Why, thy hands are cold; thou hast 
 a nervous chill. But remember, my dear mistress, that 
 the anticipation is always worse than the reality. Yoii 
 know a Ponce de Leon young and a Ponce de Leon old 
 are two very different persons. But had I not better 
 
 102 
 
fetch your light wraps if you wish to remain here 
 awhile?" 
 
 Drucila: — {More composed and seating herself on the 
 log.) "No, Camila, I thank yon. Yon may go, and I 
 shall join yon and the others shortly." 
 
 Camila: — "Very well, dear mistress." {Camila starts 
 to leave, hut returns and throws her arms around Dru- 
 cila^ embracing her.) {Exit Camila.) 
 
 {Enter Fernando.) 
 
 Fernatstdo: — "Oh Drncila, I have songht thee every- 
 where. Do yon still persist in yonr mad decision to abide 
 by thy father's commands and waste thy young life on 
 a man thou dost not love and one, methinks, that will 
 not prove to love thee over deeply? Think, think, I pray 
 thee, and re-consider thy dutiful consideration of thy 
 father's wishes." 
 
 Drucila: — "Dear Fernando, I have thought and 
 thought, and prayed and prayed. Ponce de Leon I can- 
 not wed. To me 'twould be a more than death, having, as 
 I ever would, thoughts of thee and thy image ever before 
 me. I love thee, Fernando, oh Fernando, I love thee so. 
 {Fernando clasps Drucila in his arms in a long embrace, 
 Drucila clinging to him and embracing him tenderly. She 
 then slowly and sadly removes his arms from her neck.) 
 But know, Fernando, that I ne'er shall be the wife of 
 this Sir Juan. Dost see this dagger? {Drawing it from 
 her breast.) Fernando, see, {holding the dagger aloft.) I 
 do swear to thee by the holy Virgin, that ere good Father 
 Justino can make us man and wife, I shall plunge it in 
 
 103 
 
my breast and welcome death as gladly as do the birds 
 the dawn," {Fernando cries out in horror, crosses him- 
 self and hides his face in his hands.) 
 
 Feenando: — ''Oh, dear, brave, beautiful Drucila! 
 Thou must not die; thou must not have such dreadful 
 thoughts. Oh, fly with me this instant, fly with me and 
 save thyself from such a fate. And, by Saint Jago, if thou 
 wilt not, Drucila, I die with thee — but others first. ' ' {Fer- 
 nando draws his sword.) 
 
 Drucila: — {Sheathing the dagger and concealing it in 
 her bosom) ''Hush, hush, Fernando. Wait and be brave; 
 for are we not of blood as pure as aught in Spain? Be 
 patient with me and wait till the last. If die we must, 
 'twill be as Spaniards die. And yet, guided by woman's 
 intuition, divining — call it what you will — I feel that 
 ere the wedding's o'er there shall arise some more than 
 happy chance to keep me from this union so unsought, 
 and save us for our own sweet world of love. So at the 
 altar stand and watch and wait, Fernando, and if that 
 happy chance shouldst not arise before the priest says 
 'man and wife' you'll see the poniard drawn — then shall 
 we die, we and no others, mark ye well, my dear? Oh 
 dear Fernando, oh, I love thee so!" {Fernando and 
 Drucila clasp in a long embrace.) 
 
 Fernando : — ' ' I mark thee well, Drucila, and will wait 
 and hope for the best. But thou knowest I am ever ready 
 to die a thousand deaths for thee. Oh, Nancy Drucila, 
 thou art now to me already more than wife, my wife, 
 my soul, my life, all, all that heaven holds most dear and 
 sacred thou art and shall always be." 
 
 104 
 
{Spotlight. Fernando sings) : 
 
 Oh, fair Drucila, oft' a thrill 
 
 You cause within the breast 
 Of those who hear your laughter trill, 
 Who see your smiles that linger still 
 A sweet reflection of the will 
 
 Or fany — half unguessed. 
 
 And when I ponder o'er your face 
 
 That mem'ry can define — 
 The curve of neck, the fringe of lace. 
 The poise of head, the winsome grace — 
 What other one could take your place, 
 
 You, whom I hold divinef 
 
 And is it strange that those whom fate 
 
 Return of love denied 
 Should hitter grow, and learn to hate 
 Their very life; though still they wait 
 Until their 'lotted years abate — 
 
 The years that have but lied?" 
 
 Oh, fair Drucila, well I love 
 
 You for the blessings given; 
 Your tenderness, as of the dove. 
 Your purity, as saints above — 
 For you have proved, and still shall prove, 
 ^ My staf''*of earth, from Heaven." 
 
 Drucila.: — {Embracing him.) "What a lovely song! 
 Indeed I shall most diligently endeavor to be worthy of 
 it. But we must now go to prepare for this hated cere- 
 
 105 
 
mony, Fernando. Give me thine arm and let us so walk 
 and talk and make arrangements." {Exit Drucila and 
 Fernando arm in arm, talking softly to each other.) 
 
 {Enter Ponce de Leon, Perskippio, Natal and other 
 sailors from the ship. Natal carrying a boat hook.) 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — ''What happy auspices are not in 
 this fair day embodied. A land of flowers, a brilliant 
 sky with sun no whit o'ercast, and then awaiting love — 
 love and my own sweet moonshine. Perskippio, I fain 
 would know if e'er there's been such fortune-favored 
 marriage 1 ' ' 
 
 Perskippio : — 
 
 "Of marriages, it seems 'twould he better pay 
 To throw one's crest and coat of arms away 
 
 And marry one not quite of one's four hundred, 
 Than to remain unwed through haughty pride 
 To seek some stately lady for a bride. 
 Then marry her and find {by jove), one's blundered." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "Oh, speak not thus, good Per- 
 skippio, speak not thus I do adjure thee. 
 
 With this small flask, {producing it) that's not the kind 
 
 non-fillable, 
 With this sweet liquor, {drinks) that is so distillable, 
 
 I sure can any started blunder throttle 
 
 By flashing forth my buzzy-ivuzzy bottle 
 And pouring out a modest drink or two 
 For fretful dame in green or pink or blue, 
 
 Until some fancied slight is off her chest, 
 
 So the afore-said dame will let me rest." 
 
 106 
 
{As Ponce de Leon finishes these lines, he smiles fool- 
 ishly at Pershippio, drinks again, leers at Natal, corks 
 the bottle and places it in his coat.) 
 
 Natal: — ''Faith, I had to come to Florida for miQe." 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "Hush knave." 
 
 Peeskippio: — ''Thou knowest, Sire, while I seem to 
 doubting be, best wishes for thy happiness are ever at 
 my heart. I'd guard thee from the wiles of all the Semi- 
 noles that ever did infest this favored shore." 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' ' Perskippio, I have faith in thee and 
 trust thee in all entirety. But here does come my bride- 
 to-be and others of the wedding company assembled." 
 
 {Enter the Duke with Drucila on his arm, followed 
 by Fernando escorting the Duchess. With them Maxi- 
 miliao and CawAla. The orchestra starts to play the 
 wedding march from Lohengrin. Ponce de Leon bows 
 deeply to Drucila, raising her hand and kissing it. The 
 assembled party then groups around the altar.) 
 
 The Duke: — "I do see naught of Father Justino, Sir 
 Juan. Is this, the first marriage of Spaniards in Bimini, 
 to be thus lightly slighted by the tardiness of the priest?" 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — "Alas, it seems 'tis so, your Grace. 
 Perskippio, go thou at once and hasten him, I command 
 thee." 
 
 Peeskippio: — "Aye, Sire" {As Perskippio hastens to 
 do his master's bidding, he bumps into Father Justino, 
 who staggers onto the stage, very much intoxicated. Re- 
 covering from the shock of the collision, Perskippio leaps 
 back exclaiming: "Saint Jago! We are lost." Cries of 
 "dreadful," "dreadful," "shame," "shame," from the 
 
 107 
 
wedding party. Drucila joins Fernando and they smile 
 in new-awakened hope at this interruption to the cere- 
 mony. Ponce de Leon shakes his fist at Father Justino, 
 mouthing wordless threats. Father Justino halts sway- 
 ingly in front of his flock and sings: — 
 
 ''Oozing quickly, cold and horrid, 
 Perspiration left my forehead, 
 
 Streaming fast and far; 
 From betwixt index and digit, 
 Though I strove to hold it rigid, 
 
 Dropt a half consumed cigar. 
 
 Then I staggered, waving blindly, 
 Though my spirit viewed it kindly, 
 
 Then a sound of rushing waters or the 
 swish of falling star; 
 Murmurs, as of waves in shallows, 
 Faces, as of ghosts from gallows, 
 
 Viewed me from afar. 
 
 Then acute delirium tremens, 
 And they say I needed three men 
 
 Muscled up to par, 
 Beating me, as cruel jailers. 
 Fighting me, as drowning sailors 
 
 Clinging to a spar. 
 
 Gasping, heaving at the stomach. 
 As a fish upon a hummock 
 
 When the tide's receded far; 
 As the fiood in all its pride, 
 Ah, I only wish that I'd 
 
 Left the other bar." 
 
 108 
 
The Duchess: — ''Oh, the dreadful creature! Poor 
 Drueila, poor Sir Juan, I fear thy wedding day is 
 ruined. ' ' 
 
 Ponce de Leon: — {Sadly) ''I wonder if there's aught 
 of it remains, or if there was unlucky spill or loss." 
 
 The Duke : — ' ' Strange words. Sir Juan, I understand 
 them not. But this I know, I shall abide my time, but 
 still shall I have dealings with the priest." 
 
 Deucila: — ''Oh, dear Fernando, said I not to hope?" 
 
 (^5 the Duchess, Ponce de Leon, the Duke and Drueila 
 converse, as above, PersJcippio is seen in hurried whis- 
 pered argument with Natal. They rush to the lake hack 
 of the altar where are two buckets. These they fill with 
 water, and running to Father Justino, throw it over him, 
 a part at a time, singing in chorus.) 
 
 "Ponce de Leon has searched for the water of life. 
 
 And, happily too, he has struck it; 
 But the water you'll get it is equally wet. 
 Though water that comes from a bucket, 
 
 Yo ho. 
 Though water that comes from a bucket. 
 
 We'll sober you up for the ceremony 
 
 With showers of clear cold water, 
 For good Sir Juan has sailed over the sea 
 
 To marry the Duke's fair daughter, 
 Yo ho. 
 
 To marry the Duke's fair daughter. 
 
 109 
 
With prayers to the Virgin for such an offence 
 
 To your reverend neck so supple, 
 Good Father Justino, you now must commence 
 
 To marry the happy couple, 
 Yo ho. 
 
 To marry the happy couple!" 
 
 {Perskippio and Natal lead Father Justino to the 
 altar, the priest dazed hut sobered. He passes his hand 
 over his brow; tuiping the water from his eyes, he pro- 
 duces a moist prayer-book. Exclamations of "bravo," 
 "bravo," "serves him right," from the Duke and 
 Duchess. Drucila and Fernando in despair. Sir Juan 
 regretful at the occurrence — though delighted.) 
 
 The Duke: — ''Sir Juan, what we have seen unfitting 
 is indeed. And yet, thou knowest well my word's my 
 bond. The ceremony shall proceed." 
 
 {Drucila and Ponce de Leon stand at the altar with 
 Father Justino. Ponce de Leon, beaming youthfully, 
 opens the breast of his coat slightly and gazes fondly at 
 the bottle. Drucila, a look of great despair on her face, 
 places a trembling hand in her bosom, prepared to draw 
 the poniard. Fernando, straining forward, his hand on 
 the hilt of his sword.) 
 
 {Enter Chief Afraid of his Squaw and Black Hawk. 
 They trot onto the stage pointing at Ponce de Leon as 
 they run, exclaiming "Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh." Ponce 
 de Leon, greatly agitated, turns aside and. drinks rapidly 
 from the bottle. Perskippio and Natal throw up their 
 hands.) 
 
 110 
 
The Duke : — ''Ah, Drucila child, it does seem the noble 
 Seminoles have come to witness thy marriage." 
 
 Chief : — {addressing the Duke.) ''Oh, heap big brave, 
 white chief {pointing at Sir Juan), no find water youth — 
 heap big joke. Find grain, Indian corn Seminoles call — 
 make bad medicine distilling, call it moonshine. {Laughs 
 in guttural tone. Black Hawk making a series of hor- 
 rible faces at Sir Juan.) 
 
 The Duke: — {Placing his hand to his hrow as one 
 dazed) "Moonshine! Moonshine! And is not moonshine 
 the discovered water of youth? My brain does whirl, 
 what jesting can this be?" 
 
 The Chief: — "Heap big joke, brave; ugh, heap joke." 
 
 Ponce de Leon : — ' ' Pray heed him not, your Grace. He 
 knows not what he speaks." {Sir Juan gases implor- 
 ingly at Perskippio for aid. The latter shakes his head 
 in gloom and throws up his hands.) 
 
 The Duke: — {Addressing Ponce de Leon.) "Ah, I 
 see! Vile wretch, thou hast wilfully deceived me, per- 
 petrating this great insult upon my daughter, the Duchess 
 and myself. Away ! Get hence ! Thou shalt be rightly 
 branded the impostor that thou art. {Drucila rushes to 
 Fernando 's arms and they clasp in a long embrace.) 
 
 The Duchess: — "Oh, wicked, gay deceiver, how I 
 spurn thee now. ' ' 
 
 Father Justing : — ' ' My plight is all his fault. He sent 
 the moonshine stuff ; and I did drink it by a sad mistake, 
 thinking it but some water from the spring." 
 
 Maximiliao: — {Shaking his sword hilt in Sir Juan's 
 face.) "For this thine act thou shalt atone to me, for 
 having given insult to a friend." 
 
 Ill 
 
{While Ponce de Leon is being denounced, as above, 
 Camila joins Perskippio, and they converse, hand in 
 hand, in evident sympathy with Sir Juan.) 
 
 {Enter Heavy Thunder. She rushes at Chief Afraid 
 of his Squaw, grabbing him by the back of the neck and 
 shaking her finger in his face.) 
 
 Heavy Thunder: — ''Where been? Chief fool, heap 
 fool, heap big fool. AVhere been, where been?" 
 
 {Enter Starlight, who, during the denunciation of 
 Ponce de Leon, may be seen peeping from behind a pal- 
 metto palm. Starlight's entry upon the stage is fol- 
 loived by the choruses of Indian and Spanish maidens, 
 who group at the right and left of the stage, having en- 
 tered by both wings.) 
 
 Starlight: — {She rushes to Ponce de Leon, throwing 
 her left arm around his neck and with the right warding 
 off his detractors and protecting him.) "Starlight love 
 white chief! Have moonshine and Starlight — be heap 
 happy!" {She kisses Sir Juan and he embraces her.) 
 
 Black Hawk: — {hi great rage) "Ugh, no marry Star- 
 light, Starlight for Black Hawk!" {Black Hawk draws 
 a tomahaivk and rushes at Ponce de Leon, ivhen Natal, 
 leaping forivard, drives the Seminole back, using the 
 boat hook for a spear. Perskippio, though greatly ter- 
 rified, also interferes by pulling the Indian from the rear 
 by his blanket. Chorus of cheers from the assembly.) 
 
 {Curtain.) 
 
 112