PS 3545 .E33 G6 1922 Copy 1 The Golden Arrow BY JAMES PLAISTED WEBBER THE GOLDEN ARROW A Romantic Sketch BY JAMES PLAISTED WEBBER BOSTON WALTER BAKER & CO. 1922 5^ s^'^'^ COPYRIGHT, 1922 BY JAMES PLAISTED WEBBER Amateurs may produce this sketch without payment of fee, but permis- sion must be asked of the author, addressed in care of the publishers. All professional rights are reserved. DEC 26 1922 TO MARILYN MILLER NOTES Variant : By the use of a variant of the beginning of this sketch and the omission of some lines later, "The Golden Arrow" may be played by but two performers, one actor taking the roles of both Brother Ambrose and Abelard. This substitution will be supplied by the author, who may be addressed in care of the publishers. Costuming: Both Brother Ambrose, a monk somewhat past middle life, and the young postulant, Abelard, wear monastic gowns folding across the front, and with cowls hanging down behind. Brother Ambrose's gown is girt about with the knotted cord indic- ative of his vows; that of Abelard, the young postulant, by a leathern girdle. The latter, who presently lays aside his gown, wears beneath, a long- skirted smock. Brother Ambrose is tonsured. Both wear sandals. Heloise wears the costume of one of Watteau's conventional shepherdesses. She is bare-headed and carries a lute. Music : A setting of Heloise's song will be found at the end of the text of the play. The use of the lute is, of course, not essential. At the moment the bell ceases to toll for terce, it may prove effective to have from time to time soft music as from the chapel beyond the refectory. The Ave Maria by d'Arcadelt or the simple Gregorian tones, to be found, for instance, in Canon Douglas's " Plain Song Service Book" (published by the The Boston Music Company) might be played on a reed organ. By transposing the bass (not bass and tenor) one octave lower, the sound of a pipe organ is suggested. Still more effective would be the addi- tion of a small chorus of men singing some Gregorian chant — of course, in unison. This should be so soft that it would not matter whether the words were of a psalm proper for terce or not. THE GOLDEN ARROW CHARACTERS Brother Ambrose Abelard, a Young Postulant Heloise, a Playmate of his Childhood setting : A monastery garden plot with shrubberies and early flowers, enclosed by high walls. In that to the right, a solid gate with pivoting bar, now pinned in its cup, excluding intruders from the high- way. At the left, a door to the refectory. At the back, a bench. On it, a little book in ornamented vellum. At the right of the bench, a gilded arrow-shaped weather-vane. Above, the blue sky of a fine May morning. THE GOLDEN ARROW A Romantic Sketch Scene: A Monastery Garden, Time: A May Morning. {Enter from the refectory door, Brother Ambrose^ followed by the yotmg postulant Abelard.) B ROTHER .MBROSE Y son — Abelard Yea, father. Brother Ambrose {Crossmg to the right of the garden.) There is a lesson in all things. Abelard {Trimmi7ig the shrubberies at the left.) Yea, father. Brother Ambrose The life of man — is even as the flower of the field. As thou dost labour, meditate upon these words — but thou needst not trail thy gown thus in the dust! (Abelard doffs his gown, which he lays on the bench at the back wall.) Brother Ambrose ( With breviary in his hand.) In the morning, it springeth up and flourish- eth; in the evening, it is cut down and withereth, and is cast into the oven. Abelard But, father — Brother Ambrose My son? Abelard I like better those other words: "Consider the lilies of the field: Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." 4 (A^ this mome?tf, from the highway come the notes of a kite and then the voice of a maiden is heard singijig. The music instantly arrests the attention of both Abelard a?id Brother Ambrose.^ The Voice Love lies a-bleeding. Smitten by your beauty^ Love lies a-bleeding the June night through; Dawn conies a7id finds him Languishing enrapturd, With a cry of anguish, all for love of you, Abelard {Enthralled.) Father, dost thou hear? Brother Ambrose Yea, my son. Abelard Who is 't that sings? Brother Ambrose How should I know, my son? Some light- minded maid. The Voice Won t you send him heart' s-ease^ Just a purple pansy. For a soothing simple to cure him of his pain? Or a gift of poppies, To waft him off to Lethe, The river of oblivion, till he be well again ? Brother Ambrose {^Noting Abelard^s rapt attitude^ My son, heed not the voice of the charmer, charm she never so wisely. Abelard But, father — The Voice Love lies a-bleeding. But alas I you see 7iot His wounds that issue life-blood to bear him to his death. And you never hearken To his piteous accents. Calling in his wild despair your name with fevered breath I 6 Brother Ambrose My son, come hither! {Abelard goes to him and Brother Ambrose binds his eyes with a handkerchief^ Now, open thou yon gate. Bid the maiden cease her singing. Abelard Must I, father.? Brother Ambrose Do as thou art bid! The Voice IVoiit you send kim hearfs-ease^ Just a purple pansy ^ For a soothing simple to cure him of his pain? Abelard (^Having reluctantly unpinned the bar, swung it from its cup, and opened the gate. ) Maiden, the reverend Brother Ambrose bid- deth thee cease thy song. {There is a merry laugh outside as he bars the gate.) The Voice For a soothing simple to cure hitn of his pain, {Abelard sighs and removes the bandage from his eyes. Meanwhile Brother Ambrose has discovered the little book lying on the be?ich. He peers at its pages; then passes it to Abelard.) Brother Ambrose My son, what is yon book? Read me a line. Mine eyes wax dim for unfamiliar words. Abelard {Reading.) ''And so Venus, banished by the Church, sent forth her son to work what mischief he might in Christendom., Sometimes she disguised the boy Cupid in thegarm,ents of a begging friar ; and by that device oft gained he admittaiice into monas- teries and other holy places {Abelard stops readifig to listen as the song is heard again.) The Voice Love lies a-bleedi7ig, S?nitte7t by your beauty. Love lies a-bleeding the fune night through. 8 Brother Ambrose {Reprovingly^ My son! Abelard {Reading on.) ''much to the disquieting of the hearts of godly men, who thought that they had long shice for- gotten earthly loves. Sometimes with his golden arrows, . . Brother Ambrose Nay, cease, cease, my son. Knowst thou whose book this is? Abelard Nay, father, but methinks it promiseth pleas- ant pastime. B ROTHER /iMBROSE Pleasant pastime! Ah, 't is sad how the world is ever creeping in. Pray God thou prove not like that other Abelard whom Heloise of old ensnared. /iBELARD Heloise! Brother Ambrose Yea, Heloise, daughter of old Fulbert, who punished him so sorely. 'Twould go hard with thee, my son, were the Father Abbot to find thou dost still cherish such toys. But come, 'tis nearly terce — carry thy prunings to the refectory fire. But leave thy book of fables. {Abelard lays down the book 2ipon the bench, and, gathering up his prunings, starts to the door at left.) The Voice Won (you send him heart' s-ease. Just a purple pansy, For a soothing simple to cure him, of his pain? {Abelard stops at sound of the voice from the highway^ Brother Ambrose {Turning, discovers Abelard lingeri?ig.) What, hast thou not gone? lO /IBELARD Going, father. (At this moment, Brother Ambrose sees for the first time the gilded weather-vane^ Brother Ambrose (^Picking up the vane.) Blessed saints! what have we here? Abelard That? 'Tis our ancient weather-vane the Father Abbot has but now replaced by the Holy Rood. Brother Ambrose The weather-vane! By holy Peter, I almost fancied it was Cupid's golden bolt, shot in here by Dame Venus' lad himself. Go thou! I'll lay it by the highway — belike some passing villager may set it on his granary. ( Carrying the discarded weather-vane to the gate at the right, without going through the gate himself , Brother Ambrose places it outside, a?id then closing the gate, but neglecting to bar it, starts toward the II refectory. In passiiig the bench ^ he fiotes the book left by Abelard, picks it up, shakes his head over it^ tosses it over the back wall, and places in its stead his breviary. As he again starts toward the refec- tory^ there is a ge?itle tap at the highway gate.) Brother Ambrose Dominus vobiscum! Who knocks? The Voice It is I. Brother Ambrose I? I? I don't know who /is. The Voice And I know not who thou art. Brother Ambrose I am Brother Ambrose of the Monastery of Saint Dunstan. Who art thou, and what dost thou want.f^ The Voice I seek a young postulant named Abelard; and I, I am the friend of his childhood, one Heloise. 12 k Brother Ambrose {Startled:) Heloise! The saints preserve us! {To her.) Neither matrons nor maidens come within. Not even a mother could here see her son were he priest, novice, or postulant. The Reverend Abbot alone could grant that you speak with Abelard, and that but at the wicket of the great east gate. The Voice But the Abbot sent me even from the wicket. Brother Ambrose Then, maiden, depart in peace. The Voice Thou wilt not fetch him for me? Brother Ambrose Not for my soul! 13 The Voice And thou wilt not even let me see where he lives? Brother Ambrose Not for a moment! The Voice Nor where he prays? Brother Ambrose Never! The Voice I vow he prays ofttimes for me. Wilt thou not undo the gate? Brother Ambrose Maiden, cease thy plaints! The Voice Not even if — Brother Ambrose Not even if what? 14 The Voice Not even if I'll kiss thee? Brother Ambrose A vaunt, Sathanas! The Voice Look at me! {The owner of the voice begins opening the gate, which Brother Ambrose had forgotten to bar, but before she can catch his eye, he closes her out and swings the bar into place, this time, however, neg- lecting to pin it in its cup.) The Voice {As its oiv?ier is being thrust back.) I'm very nice to look at. Brother Ambrose Away! {A bell tolls for one of the Hours and Brother Ambrose passes to the door at the left. He has not quite disappeared when through a crevice between the gate and its jamb is thrust the golden arrow 15 of the weather-vane. The bar is thus lifted and HHo'ise slips in. She was quite truthful; for she is indeed very nice to look at. The bell continues as she looks cautiously about. Presently it ceases ringing. She conceals her lute behind some shrub- bery near the highway gate and then peers into the door at the left. Evidently she sees somebody com- ing, for she darts back. Then suddenly espying the gow7i on the bench, she dons it, quickly shadow- ing her face with the cowl, and sits with her hands folded meekly as any little brother of poverty. Abe- lard enters. From his sleeve peeps a scroll.^ Heloise {In a whisper of surprise, which he does not hear.) Abelard! {Abelard either does not see or else does not regard the meek little figure. He is evidently looking for somethi?tg, picks up the breviary, and somewhat im- patiently discards it.) Heloise Pax vobiscum! Abelard Et tecum! Who art thou and what dost thou here? i6 H ELOISE A little brother of poverty, weary of the road, who rests a moment in your quiet garden. Abelard And why not at thy prayers? The bell for terce has rung. H ELOISE And why not thou? Abelard I seek for something I have lost. H ELOISE Verily, I did think as much. What was 't? Abelard A little book. H ELOISE Thy breviary? Abelard Nay, not my breviary. 17 Heloise I prithee, what? Abelard I dare not — I dare not tell thee, and yet I little reck the Abbot's discipline. Heloise Nay, my son, speak out Abelard O, but I fear thou'lt think it sinful. Heloise Why? Abelard 'T is of the world. Heloise But all the world is God's and all that is therein. Abelard But this is of the pagan world. i8 Heloise Ah! Abelard Shall I tell thee? Heloise I prithee, do. Abelard {Sitting beside HHoise.) 'T was an old story. Heloise {Encouragingly. ) Yes? Abelard How Venus, goddess of love, when banished by the Church — Heloise Yes? Abelard Once sent her son Cupid into the world dis- guised as a begging friar, a little brother of poverty. 19 Heloise Yes? A BELARD And with his golden arrows oft gained he admittance to monastic walls. Heloise Speak on! Abelard That was as far as I read. I had just begun the book when Brother Ambrose sent me to the refectory; and now I steal from prayers, 't is gone. Heloise How camest thou by the book.f* Abelard r faith, Brother Ambrose found it! Heloise And where, i' faith? 20 Abelard Why, even here upon this garden bench. Heloise And how, thinkest thou such book came here? Abelard How high are these imprisoning walls? Heloise Too high to scale with ease. Abelard But not too high to toss my booklet over. And verily I believe 'twas thus it came. Heloise And dost thou grieve to lose it? Abelard Yea, more than I care to tell. 21 Heloise And Brother Ambrose, 'twas, thou say'st, that found it. Was't he who bade a maiden cease from singing in the road? Abelard Nay, that was I, but at his bidding. Heloise And why should she not sing.? The lark is singing yet. Abelard Yea, but her song savoured of an earthly love and so annoyed sorely. Heloise Annoyed thee-f^ Abelard Not me but Brother Ambrose. O, I loved it well. In sooth, he knew I loved it all too well. But tell me, how know'st of the maiden's song.f* Heloise I passed her on the road. 22 Abelard O, tell me, was she not fair to look upon? Heloise How can I say? I scarcely heeded her. Abelard Her voice was as the voice of one I knew. O, I could listen to her song forever! Heloise Alas! poor postulant, methinks thou hast lost somewhat else besides thy book. Come tell me what else thou hast lost! Abelard Heloise Nothing. Nothing? Abelard O, my gown, that I laid aside at Brother Ambrose's bidding lest I soil it in the dust a-pruning of these shrubberies. Belike he has borne it for me to my cell. 23 Heloise And is that all that thou hast lost? Abelard That and the little book. Heloise In sooth, I wot there might be somewhat else. Art happy here? Abelard Not yet. Heloise And hast thou ta'en thy vows? Abelard Not yet — this eve at vespertide. Heloise And so thou still art free? Abelard Yea, free, but ah! for such a little while in our eternity of time. 24 Heloise I prithee what is yon scroll thou hidest in thy sleeve? Abelard I dare not show thee. Heloise Wherefore these fears? Am not I a little brother of the road who knows the world and the heart of youth? Read me yon scroll. Abelard {Readi7ig with ardor.) May is the 7norning, May is your life, And Mays on the hedgerow, my love. O, but to sing once, My heart overflowing. With you at the lattice above! O but to win Your heart with my music On such a May morning as this : 25 Till in a moment Fve scarcely dared dream, of^ You give m.e your first true-loves kiss I That were a day Whatever the season, With scarlet and gold to emblaze. Would that this morning With May all arou7id 7is Might be that ivojider of days I Heloise (^Repeating.) " Would that this morning With May all around us Might be that wonder of days f' I do perceive, poor postulant, thou art in love. Come, tell me whom thou lovest. I prithee do! Abelard A vision exquisite, of loveliness, of innocence, and May! — the playmate of my childhood. 26 He LOIS E The playmate of thy childhood! Where did she dwell? Abelard A league away. Her father's house across the hedge from mine. He LOIS e And why, poor postulant, didst thou leave her and shut thyself within Saint Dunstan's walls-f* Abelard Alas! in wild despair because she never gave her love to me. Heloise And so? Abelard Methought to find my peace here, harboured from the world. Heloise And hast thou ever found it? 27 Abelard Nay, and never shall. Heloise (^Rising and drawing forth the arrow ^ which she has hitherto concealed^ and feigning to draw a bow.) Then look! Abelard (^Starting up.) The boy Love! Heloise {Nodding:) Dame Venus' son. I'll strike thee with my shaft of gold. Abelard {Recoiling^) Nay! for the love of saints forbear! Heloise (^Advancing upon him a?id striking his breast at the last word.) In the name of Heloise! 28 Abelard Heloi'se Heloise What wouldst thou do if she came here before thou tookst thy vows? Abelard And told me that she loved me? Heloise And told thee that she loved thee. Abelard Fly forth with her through yonder gate! Heloise {Casting off the monastic gown.) Then come! Abelard (^ffe clasps her to him, his lips at hers.) Heloise! Heloise {Freeing herself.) Nay, not a word. I'll tell thee all. 29 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 930 792 (\ ^