PS 3505 Class. Book_ Coppglit^'?- COnfRIGIfr DEPOSIT. American Dramatists Series WIND FLOWER BY MILDRED CRISS McGUCKIN BOSTON RICHARD G. BADGER THE GORHAM PRESS Copyright, 1922, by Mildred C. McGuckin All Rights Reserved Made in the United States of America The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. SEP I5 1022. ©CI.A6817R8 ^ ^ WIND FLOWER A FANTASY PERSONS Anemone, a wind-flower. Peter. The Silver Witch, of Moonlight. Nurse Hannah Little Tim Little Anemone from Toyland. NoRMAND, a stranger. Fire Dancers, moonrays. Dancers of Dawn. Scene A garden surrounded with box hedges and flow- ering hawthorne, at the hack of the garden there is a break in the hedge which gives a glimpse of sand dunes and the sea. Pale roses climb either side of the opening; flowering shrubs and dwarf pines, silver- tipped in the moonlight, cluster around a small fountain which splashes lazily in the light breeze. A low stone bench stands to one side of a curving sand path leading through the gate way in the hedge, and through the trees, the waving shadows trace their lace-work. Time During the Harvest Moon, The curtain rises while Anemone is sleeping in the moonlight; the light wind stirs the chiffon of her dress; she awakes. WIND FLOWER Anemone The moon is burning now the white Hght of her soul, And all the little stars have closed their eyes in reverence ; It is the privilege alone of greater stars to see The sacred love-light on the altar of the moon. (Rises and looks up into the sky; the moonlight falls across her face in waving, shadow light,) I stand alone and dream of all that might be mine And yet is held from me; I would that Life would draw the veil Of its experience, and let me, knowing, see the light; I would that someone touch my lips and bid me sing, For in my heart is only questioning. (Peter, playing his violin, wanders slowly out from the shadows.) 7 8 WIND FLOWER Peter Oh! Love, In loneliness Fve come across the night to lay my life Down at your feet. I am your slave, and touch the dust beneath your feet In reverence. {She turns slowly away.) Oh! do not turn from me; I come not asking you to give, but that my love Might touch your life and make it e'en more precious unto you ! I do not ask even the pressure of your finger tips But just the right to hope! Anemone How can I give to you The right to hope? It is your right. Hope is a spark, The vital spark of life, that bids each man arise above The clay that binds his feet. But love is spirit- born. As yet I know it not. Peter Then I am worthless to your scheme Of life — a thing apart from all you hold most dear? WIND FLOWER 9 Anemone No, Peter, for I hold yon in my heart with tender- ness. But you're too much my friend, my love must be unknown to me. Someone from far off lands that I may dream about. Someone who masters every whim within my mind. Drawing my will to his, his touch must be a seal to scar Me with its strange insignia. No, Peter, you are dear To me as friend, but you can never be my love. Peter Anemone, great love holds all of friendship, and Deep friendship is, indeed, a part of love. Love longs to give Itself in sacrifice, and knows no pleasure for itself Alone. Sensation plays a part in love, 'tis true. But if love runneth deep, sensation is forgot Within a host of deeper thoughts. — FU go now, dearest love. Go, praying that you find the height of love. All fire-dreams, dear, lo WIND FLOWER Are vain desire that leaves the heart lost in the dust Of arid disillusion. Oh ! Anemone, Passion is not loves all. (Anemone has turned from him, and Peter taking his violin, moves away softly and singing as he goes.) (Song.) The love I hold for you Is like the mountain dev/ ; The love a mother feels Across my senses steals, And when I see your eyes I long for sacrifice Anemone ! — Anemone ! I hold you in my heart As fragile, quite apart From life's intense desire. And your deep eyes inspire My loves deepest controle — And service of my soul — Anemone ! — Anemone ! (Exit Peter; his voice dies away in the distance and Anemone, left alone, cries out in the stillness — ) WIND FLOWER ii Anemone This love Peter has oflfered me Seems pale and colorless beside the love that I have dreamed, Like sunlight days compared with those of fog. His love Seems like a love grown old, and holds a thread of pain — A note of sacrifice. There is no rapture in his youth, Nor is there laughter such as filled even my childhood days — (Dreamingly,) Our childhood days — What land can hold more precious joy Than candy-colored land of toys and make- believe ? Perhaps in childhood lies the better part of life — perhaps 'Tis only at the first white dawning we may know the heights Of happiness! (Soft strains of a waltz drift from behind the trees, and down, o'er a brilliant path of the mist-white moon, dance six little Moonrays who are leading the Silver Witch. Until the entrance of the Silver Witch of the 12 WIND FLOWER Moonlight, the moon has not been shining directly on the scene, but has fallen in sha- dow tracery through the trees. The nioon- raySy having ushered in their Silver Witch, disappear, dancing off into the shadows, leaving her face to face with Anemone in the direct path of the moon.) The Silver Witch Come from the shadows of thy sighs Sweet little Wind-Flower of the Wood; come close to me And put thy faith in dreams. Dream out thy life's desire and all Thy dreams will live in very form, and color, speech, and touch For thee; they shall come true and show thee what thy heart's Desire would bring into thy life. Dream now and see Thy life as it would be if all thy dreams came true. Tell me Thy dreams and they will live! Anemone Who are you, then, so white and fair With power to bring my dreams to me ? WIND FLOWER 13 The Silver Witch Anemone, Your soul is unawakened and your dreams are soft, Like breaths of summer wind that stir a rose, a leaf, a fern, And listless, blow across the meadow grasses to the wood. But still a child, thy heart is reaching out for life ; Tell me thy questionings and in thy dreams come true, Thou shalt see truth indeed. Anemone The present holds no charm for me The future is so shrouded that I hesitate to build My dreams within the far-away. My heart is sad, And I am sorry that I've Uved beyond my days Of Childhood love— (Reflectively.) So will my dreams, then, be of long ago. For in that land of make-believe I think love, at its best. Lived in the iridescent castles of the clouds. Back in that shadow Fairyland of innocence, ril dream and seek my love. Turn back my life, then, Silver Witch, My love has lived for me within the past. 14 WIND FLOWER The Silver Witch Dream then, And be a child within the garden of the long, Long, afternoons and find thy bare-foot love and see If it is he. Dream now and know the truth! {The Silver Witch dances softly around the garden, the moonlight dies and all is dark- ness. The Silver Witch and Anemone disappear. Gradually the light of a summer morning filters across the garden, falling 07i Anemone as a little child, and Tim, her hare-foot sweetheart, lying on the grass at Nurse Hannah's feet, playing checkers.) Nurse Hannah {Crooning.) "The old, old owl. The young, young fowl. And the gay young chick-a-dee. With the gray-black crow And the large dodo Went out for a jubilee. And the grizzly bear Brought a bob-tailed hare WIND FLOWER iS From some distant yum-yum tree, And the kinkajew From an Iceland zoo Came unto this jubilee. Now the white-tummed toad From his damp abode — " Little Tim (Interrupting the song.) Anemone ! (Throws down his checkers in a rage.) YouVe cheated! TU not play! Little Anemone I haven't, Tim ! Come see! Tim Girls always cheat ! They're awful sports ! Gee Whiz! rd hate To be a girl ! They're always tagging on to boys, and Gee ! You'd think they'd find some other thing to do ! Anemone You came to me. And asked me if Td play with you! So there now ! See ! i6 WIND FLOWER You're mad because I beat you, so you say I cheat ! Little Tim {Expressing his contempt with a shrug, then turning.) Girls always cheat! Little Anemone I tell you they do nothing of the sort ! (Tim sticks his tongue at her; she flies at him and pulls his hair; Nurse Hannah separates them.) Nurse Hannah Children ! Children ! Why can't you play together without this? ril have to send Tim home! Tim {With emphasis.) Oh, no, you won't! Til go! Little Anemone We promise to be good! WIND FLOWER 17 Tim Shucks! What's the use? TU go! rd rather go than stay! {He starts to go.) Little Anemone {Running after him.) Come back, Tim, Nurse will read to us. {She takes his hand and leads him back; they sit dozvn quietly at Nurse Hannah's feet.) Nurse Hannah {Opening a large book and turning over the pages slowly. ) What shall we read? Let's see — Here is a story of a bird — Tim {Grumbling an interruption.) Stories 'bout birds are just for girls. Find some- thing else. Nurse Hannah Well, here's the story of a crocodile who wept Himself a pool of tears to swim in, and then couldn't swim Because the water was too deep. i8 WIND FLOWER Little Anemone Fm afraid of crocodiles ! Tim (Getting up disgustedly, jams his hands into his pockets and whistles.) Gee! What's the use of girls? They're scare- crows ev'ry one. I hate them all ! Nurse Hannah (Soothingly.) Come on now, children, we will find Something to please us all. Here is the story of a Prince Who lived down underneath the sea within a castle built Of sea-weed silk, and sand and, shells. (Tim listens hesitatingly.) Red lobsters there Were court attendants, and a side-way-moving crab (Tim comes closer, interested; he sits down cross-legged by Anemone.) His jester. Far away across a jeweled sand dune lived WIND FLOWER 19 A Princess in a crystal cave. The entrance to the cave Was guarded by a dragon with ten tongues of fire, And eyes that shot out shining knives to kill the man Or woman who attempted entering the cave. The Prince Who lived down underneath the sea, had dreamed on star-white nights Of the fair Princess in her crystal cave, and he Had planned to summon all his deep blue water up To flood the jeweled sand-dunes stretching to the cave, quenching For ever more the dragon's fire then back through wave and foam. To lead the Princess of his heart. (A long whistle sounds through the trees. Tim jumps up excitedly and whistles in return.) Tim All right! Til come! (To Little Anemone, as he runs off.) It's Phil — We're going fishing down the Old Mill road! (Exits.) 20 WIND FLOWER Little Anemone (Disappointed, calling after him,) What time 'you coming back? {No answer.) Oh ! Tim, won't you come back again ? (Silence; Little Anemone looks after him, waits, then turns and comes back slowly to Nurse Hannah; puts her head in Nurse Hannah's lap and cries softly. The stage grows dark; the scene with Nurse Hannah fades. Exeunt Little Anemone and Nurse Hannah. As the light grows again — the moonlight — Anemone and The Silver Witch are standing as they were before the dream. ) Anemone And was that all there was of love, back in those childhood days? Were Tim and I just play-mates— nothing more — ? (Pensively.) Ah! yes, Tis beautiful, and yet, in dreaming I have filled My Toyland with the grown-up thoughts of love that were not there. The Silver Witch Little Anemone, the beauty of all childhood lies WIND FLOWER 21 In freedom from deep love, deep thought, deep anything, Just fairy sunshine in the dancing shadows and The crowded hours of play. (A pause; the Silver Witch looks long and intently into Anemone's eyes.) Not knowing, thou hast pressed thy mouth Against the crystal rim of the red cup of life — thy youth's Completion. Thou hast missed the chalice of the love That Life has offered you. It may not e'er come back, But if it does, drink deep. Thy soul's completion lies therein. The eyes of youth. Anemone, fill easily with tears ; They mean not sorrow, but romance and won- dering. Thine eyes veiled now with mist-white dreams are looking towards The gateway of loves garden, yet thy heart is turning back Along the sunny road where laughing children play their games, 22 WIND FLOWER And build their palaces of soap-boxes and chips. Oh ! look not back but at thy shadow's end. {In the distance the strains of Peter's violin are heard he plays the same theme that he played before as he came; Anemone, interested, goes to the edge of the box-wood and listens. The theme that Peter plays is plaintive, full of chords, and simple. Anemone listens but turns away disappointedly,) Anemone Oh, no, We're too much brother sister and I know his thoughts, his words Are like my very own and all his life is known to me. My love must blind my eyes and lead me out beyond The shallows of the everydays, beyond the tides Within Life's harbor with their ebb and flow of common place Events ; I would set all my anchored boats afloat and drift Into the unknown sea — the heights above me, and The depths far underneath. (The strains of Peter's violin, having grown fainter and fainter, now die azvay com- pletely,) WIND FLOWER 23 The Silver Witch The heights and depths of love Throb in the commonplace because love maketh all things right And infinitely beautiful. The eyes of youth look ofif Beyond the stars to find their answer, while it waits Within the eyes of one who passes by. Anemone Out there Beyond the harbor's edge, upon the open sea, is there No noon-tide heat, no mid-night wind as yet unknown to me? Are there no angry storms to wake my soul that I may know And value peace? And is there no mirage or mist That, drifting through their fair illusions, I may see The clear, deep blue beyond? The Silver Witch Oh, yes, out there the open sea 24 WIND FLOWER Is torn by never-ending change until it sinks beneath The far sky-Hne of death. Anemone Then I would know this change ! Far off along the pathway of the stars across the sea From out strange depths that throb and pain, my love must come, and his First words of love must sound as unfamiliar speech. This is my dream! Is there no mystery in love? I would give my life to understand, to brand My thin white soul with fire! The Silver Witch Oh yes, indeed there is such love Within man's comprehension, but a love like this Is but a cheapened love — just fascination's flame That kindles torture heat within your veins and leaves you torn And wounded, bitter and afraid ; this mockery would rob All finer understanding from your soul ! WIND FLOWER 25 Anemone Fve dreamed That there is love beyond my understanding, love That could be master of my very being — all of me — And I am not afraid to drink the bitterest of drafts If once the wine of life moistens my untouched lips. The Silver Witch Oh, if youth, dreaming, could but see the after- math Of false desire, and eyes all lit by lightnings, but detect The gray within the many-colored, short-lived flames of Life's Great fire. Thus I, Witch of the mist-white silver night, Stand pitying, watching the many hungry lives That know not love is warmth and tenderness, and never fire And pain — but all complete within the everydays of life— Not hidden somewhere off in unknown lands of new Imagination. Little lady who would know 26 WIND FLOWER Real love, look down within your unawakened heart, love waits. Growing in spite of your misunderstanding. Look and know This great truth before it is too late. Anemone I know not love, And think that it is you who do not understand ; My choice is love incomprehensible that cuts my heart Like lightning 'cross the blackness of a storm- clad sky. I would Be taken madly, blindly, in its power and give My individuality itself unto The tide of master feeling surging out to un- known seas. The Silver Witch So be it then, my little lady wnth bUnd eyes ; I am The mistress of the waving lantern lights of night. My power holds deep enchantment. Look ! Thy dream comes true! {The moonlight fades, and in the lurid darkness, lightning cuts the sky; thunder crashes through the storm-tossed woods.) WIND FLOWER 2j Oh ! frail Anemone, thy hving dream hath laid thee down Within the arms of thy false love. Come, live thy mad dream through Unto the end. My light has faded, and the storm Beats on the darkened sky. My light must go. {The White Witch and Anemone disappear into the shadows at the edge of the garden. Through the blackness there comes the figure of a man hearing in his arms the lithe figure of Anemone. Holding her closely, he car- ries her under the shelter of the trees and lays her on the grass. Occasional lightning flashes. ) NORMAND My love ! Across an angry world I heard the music of your voice And knew that all your songs were meant for me — Throughout all time Tve felt your beauty, and your faint perfume has blown Forever 'cross my senses. Now I hold you close And taste the extasy of love's first draft — {They look off at he approaching storm.) Clowds draw their veils 28 WIND FLOWER Of black across the sky; earth reels within the frenzied wind; And night is torn apart by flames, yet all is peace Within our souls, for love is master of the world And heaven itself ; there is no power to threaten or destroy The peace of perfect love. Anemone It is within the vividness Of this deep storm, Dearheart, that we have found our love? So all my life Tve dreamed that it would be like this Love's voice first sounding in the drumming of deep thunder clowds — Love's fire descending from a flash of lightning through the dark. NORMAND I cannot count the idle flames within my life; I've watched them flicker and burn low but you have sent The hot flame of your being through my blood, and there is fire At last within my half-dead soul. WIND FLOWER 29 Anemone The fires of life itself That burn within me now are yours and I would give The pressure of my still, cold, lips if you should love Them more in death than life. NORMAND Life — death — it matters not, love knows No time, but is a part of immortality. The bondage of the world, its petty ways, and laws Are far beneath our love. The Infinite has written out Our meeting here, with lightning strokes of fire across the sky. And love has sealed the imprint of my lips on yours. We need no signature of men, no bonds from out The crime-stained courts of this cold bitter world to make us one. Anemone Normand, you hold my love, my life, within your hand! 30 WIND FLOWER NORMAND Our love is full! {He rises.) Come seek our destiny, our joy Stands trembling at the threshold of the hour, waiting The laying of your hand in mine. Dearest, what need is there to wait? Anemone I wish there was some sweet little rustic church Within the wood where we might lay our lives before Its secret altar, with some old hermit priest taking Our sacred vows to God. NORMAND What need have we of church or priest What need of vows, save I to you, and you to me, in love? There is no higher altar than the altar Of love, and it is there I lay you, to kneel Beside your beauty as a worshipper of you. Is it Then, not enough that we should bow before the high altar Within our very hearts? What need have we of priests, WIND FLOWER 31 And darkened churches, with the dust and mould of old Worn out traditions, dogmas and creed? Anemone (Drawing away from him a little; there is still an ugly light in the distant sky.) Altars are sacred unto God And this, our love, is sacred unto me. Oif in some wood, Far from the futile discord of commerce and men I would unite my love with yours, where only God Could hear — A hidden altar — solitary, white, and still Where you and I could pledge our troth. NORMAND (Slightly irritated, but hiding his displeasure with a smile.) Together, and alone, We two can pledge our troth ! Anemone Marriage is loves great seal. 32 WIND FLOWER NORMAND Marriage ! A worn out custom, rotten at the core From man's mis-use! Symbol of slavery, and meaningless ! What need to bind by law, lovers whose souls are one? We'll stand Together, free, as one, because our love is one Indeed, unfettered by the chains that gall and make Men long to be set free. Marriage is worse than mockery I will have none of it! Anemone (A little bewildered, repeats.) Marriage is mockery; our souls Are one — Normand, this cannot be! My love's too great A part of that great force beyond, not to admit Of consecration, God must touch our love, or life will miss The mark of truth ! {She turns to him entreatingly ; he laughs.) Normand What mark of truth ? Love's fullness is the truth! WIND FLOWER 33 The infinite and love are one. There are no heights Beyond the plain of love. I unto you, and you To me — in intimate affection — to the end and love Complete, will be sufficient through it all. We have no need Of empty services, and tottering, decayed. Religious platitudes. {He goes close to her, and bending over her, he kisses her on the lips. His touch weakens her resistance; she forgets the lesser appeal of the spirit in the emmotional appeal of her heart. He takes her in his arms. Neither speak for a moment, and then he throws back his head and laughs. While they are stand- ing there, the reflection of a distant fire stains the sky with a lurid red glow. They turn to watch the glow.) After the storms, then come The fires, hiding the ruins of man's mistakes, ashes to ash Again. (As they stand looking off at the sky, dyed red from the flames, the wind blows clouds of dense, black smoke into their faces; from out the smoke come veiled figures, advancing solemnly to the beating of muffled drums. 34 WIND FLOWER The figures are those of young women whose hairs are singed and whose clothes are charred from fire. Their faces are lined with the tracing of tears, and one of them has an infant crushed to her breast. Anemone, not understanding the vision at first, is terrified and clings to Normand, but as the figures surround him Normand shrinks from their advance, and covers his face with his hands.) The Silver Witch (Coming towards Anemone and Normand from out the smoke.) These ghostly little ladies faced the storms of Hfe For love of Normand ; for his love they tasted fire And giving all themselves, sank to the depths for him! (The fire dancers whirl round and round, and the smoke curls in gusts at their feet; the drums beat louder and louder, and the sky turns to a deeper shade of crimson. Anemone, terrified by the reality of the vision and by the words of the Silver Witch, shrinks from Normand. One of the figures with titian hair, blacked by the soot and smoke. WIND FLOWER 35 advances towards Normand and stretching out her arms, shows him her sleeping child.) That little titian lady with her baby was the last To give her all to him! And he has spent her Youth, her life Itself and left her wounded by the sword and flame Of hate that lurk within such souls as his ! (Normand, frenzied, strikes down the little titian lady and her baby. Then breaking away from the circle, he disappears into the dark- ness. The drums stop beating. The Silver Witch vanishes with the smoke, and the fire dancers fall to the ground,) Anemone {Terror stricken, turns to the fading glow in the sky and cries.) Dear God Save me from this ! (She falls prostrate. The red light dies and in the darkness the fire dancers vanish. When the light comes, it is the light of the moon through the clouds; it falls on Anemone and the Silver Witch.) 36 WIND FLOWER The Silver Witch Anemone, worn by the pain of thy Mad dreams, look up ; the moonUght shines ; deep peace is o'er the world Thy cruel dream was but a vision of the wrong Desires of youth! Thy life itself has not been touched ! Awake ! Anemone Oh Silver Witch, I am indeed awake, awake And trembling for the peril of young lives that seek what I, In darkness sought — my very life's development- And peace to that deep throbbing thing within the depths Of me that would not e'er be still. Passion my senses dulled — Passion — that knew no thought of love, made me a fool indeed Until I lost myself, and reckoned values wrong. Feeling too deeply that exquisite rapture born Of flesh, and then my spirit died from fever in my blood. Oh ! Silver Witch, has my mistaken dream made it too late To take love at its best and make it wholly mine — WIND FLOWER 37 Holding its beauty and its peace a part of all My soul? (Far off in the distance come the strains of Peter's violin.) The Silver Witch Dear child, thine errors have been just in dreaming wrong. Dream true, and let not idle fancy swerve thy real desire. Love stands expectant at thy finger tips ; grasp it And make it thine. (The violin strains come closer. ) Thy youth is full, and it is not Too late! (As Peter advances up the pathway to the gate in the hedge, he plays the same refrain that he played on his first entrance, i. e. ''The wind is fragrant with the breath of hawthorn flowers white.'') Anemone Oh yes, Fve found my dream at last! I feel the warmth Of old, lost joys stealing across my heart ! 38 WIND FLOWER The Silver Witch So ril awake The moon that slumbers in the shadows moist with rain; In new washed radiance, thy three fold love will come, That perfect love where all is understanding, willingness To give, the beauty in each touch. Take to thy- self this love. Perfect in its entiety. {The Silver Witch summons her moon rays; they dance and draw out the full radiance of the moon which falls in crystal path across the garden. The dancers and the Silver Witch disappear into the shadows, at the end of the dance. Peter, not seeing Anemone, advances down the pathway of the moonlight playing his love serenade on the violin. He walks slowly, dreaniingly, nearer and nearer to Anemone, who is watching him from the shadows. As he comes in front of her, she goes to him with her arms outstretched,) Anemone Peter, I've looked WIND FLOWER 39 Too far for love! Come close to me, Peter, my love, Forgive me ! I am lonely and afraid ! {He lays his violin down and, kneeling at her feet, presses her hand to his lips.) Peter Anemone ! A thousand times is not enough to give myself to you; Dearest ! I long to let you rest within my heart As some sweet child that longs for tenderness and knows Not where to turn for its caress ! Anemone Peter, IVe lived my wild Dreams through unto the end and found just emptiness, Peter, Incessant spirit voices know no answer save The calling, save the whisper in my soul, Peter, I love you! (She takes his face in her hands and touches his forehead with her lips.) CURTAIN Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Dnve Cranberry Township. PA 16066 (724)779-2111