I J THE* SILVER THREAD'AND OTHER FOLK PLAYS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE Arranged for Use in the Grammar Grades BY CONSTANCE D'ARCY MACKAY iuthor of ' * The House of the Heart and Other Plays for Children * * NEW YORK HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY Copyright, igio, BY HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY Published December, 1910 ^ Amateurs may produce the plays in this volume without charge. Professional actors should apply for acting rights to the author, in care of the publishers. PREFACE With the revival of folk dancing and folk songs for young people has also come a renewed interest in folk tales which leads inevitably to folk drama, the latter a rendering of old-world myths and hearthstone stories into a form that lends them the added value of costume and action. Simplicity is the keynote of the following plays, as it was of the folk tales from which they were taken — quaint superstitions quick with the life of the soil from which they sprang. Each play contains some homely truth or bit of philosophy; for a folk play lacking its attendant moral is the proverbial egg without its salt. The plays contained in this volume are gathered from eight widely different sources: the Cornish mines, the Rhinish for- ests, the Lincolnshire fells, the Russian steppes, the sea-coast of Ireland, the hill-slopes of Italy, the snug fields of Brittany, and the troll-haunted meadows of Norway. With each play is a forenote on its origin, and a full description of the easy costumes and scene-settings which are especially designed to fit the limitations of the schoolroom stage. The plays have already stood the iii Q O O '-y er o iv PREFACE test of production at performances given by The Edu- cational Players of New York City; The People's Insti- tute and University Settlement of New York City; South End House and Lincoln House of Boston. They have also been given in various schools and at outdoor pageants in both cities. Thanks* are due to The Normal Instructor, The Churchman, The Popular Educator, and The De- lineator for their kind permission to reprint these plays. CONTENTS PAG& The Silver Thread ^ The Forest Spring 7 The Foam Maiden . . io7 Troll Magic The Three Wishes ^53 A Brewing of Brains ...•••• ^7^ ... 191 Siegfried The Snow Witch ^^' **The few attempts that have been made in this direction (i.e. the producing of plays for young people) are astonishingly rewarding to those who regard the power of self-expression as one of the most precious boons of education.*' — Jane Addams: The Spirit of Youth and the City Streets THE SILVER THREAD A Cornish Folk Play in Three Acts ^ CAST CuBERT^ a miner lad Dame M o r n a ^ his mother The Woman from Be- yond THE Hills The Princecs Gwenda King Radnor, her father Mabina, her nurse Alcie, another of the Princess's attendants GUNDRED l^^^^j^ Thorwald V ^ J ( Guards King Shadowcob Prince Slumpkin MoTTLESNOUT, Lord High Chancellor TroCl KOLL Ratkin Clawfoot Mole's Ear Shag Other Goblins, Castle Guards, Maids - in - Waiting >- Goblins Season : The Spring. SOLBERG Time : The ?nythical age. Place: A Kingdom West of the Moon and East of the Sun; yet not too far from the rock-bound hills of Cornwall, ACT I. Scene i. Cubert's home on a late afternoon in Spring. Scene ii. The Goblins' forge room. ACT H. The Bedroom of the Princess. (The same night.) ACT HI. Scene i. The Goblins' council hall. (The small hours of the following morning.) Scene ii. Cubert's home as in Act I. THE SILVER THREAD Source Although this play is partly founded on MacDon- ald's well-known fairy tale, it has its roots deep in Cornish soil, where the spriggans or goblins were said to live in the mines, and where, up to as late as 1869, the miners still believed in them, and spoke of them as the " small people " or '* knockers," the latter name being given them from the fact that strange sounds were heard in the mines at night, curious tappings which the miners attributed to the spriggans' picks. Lights also were seen moving about the dark passages of the mines — tiny lanterns carried by goblin fingers! Indeed, these eerie creatures dominate the greater part of Cornish folk lore. That the spriggans had tunnels and lodes of their own w^as universally believed; else how account for the winding ways the miners sometimes came on, deep, deep underground. Often, too, queer, misshapen tools were found, such as mortals never work with. These may have accounted for the tappings the night shifts heard ; for the goblins were reputed to sleep by day, and only commenced their labors when the shadows fell. Amidst the boulders of the dark and rock-clad hills of Morva many goblins were said to lurk. They were fond of working mischief to humans (so hearth- 3 4' ; . ,. .. .Trie SILVER THREAD stone stories' ran!')*, ^tiS* Im' this and many other ways closely resembled the trolls of Scandinavia. Stage Setting There are two ways in which the play can be pro- duced. It may be given on the well-equipped stage of an assembly hall; or in the schoolroom itself. The larger production is the first one to be considered. While the stage directions call for three sets of scenery, the play can readily be given with one. In this case the set for the Princess's room should have walls of some light and delicate tint, as pretty as possible. Then the rough side of the set can be turned for Cubert's home, as the boards and props will be quite appropriate for a meager dwelling. If this rough side of the scene is painted a weather-stained gray, it can be made to serve as a background for the goblin scenes by banking against it slabs and boulders fashioned of slate-colored cambric tacked over boxes, etc. These slabs should as nearly as possible represent the kind of thing seen in professional photographers' rooms where " outdoor " pictures are taken. Indeed, a photographer might be induced to lend a few of these, which make a splendidly " stony " interior. The lights are, of course, turned very low for this set, to make it as dark as possible. The Silver Thread can be made of fine silver wire lifted into sight by nearly invisible black wires. For the schoolroom stage a hearth formed of wide drygoods boxes, against which gray cambric is bulked to repre- sent uneven stones, marked here and there with black THE SILVER THREAD 5 and white chalk. Embers of scarlet tinsel, and red and black paper. A spinning-wheel made of two small- sized wagon wheels fastened to a wooden frame. A distaff with flax on it. The exit should be formed by screens covered with gray canvas or cambric. A gray curtain should be hung against the blackboard for a background, and against this should be fastened the full short chintz curtains that represent the windows. A screen with a painted scene on it for the vista glimpsed through the open doorway. When the play begins the blinds in the schoolroom should be lowered, and the candles lighted on the table of the miniature stage. The schoolroom bookcase may be used for the cupboard, and the schoolroom chairs and tables will form the rest of the furniture. A sheet of tin will make the thunder-crashes. For the goblin scenes gray boulders formed of can- vas should be grouped against the gray background. A forge fashioned from a drygoods box painted black, with a shaped top of black cardboard. If red electric bulbs could be turned on for the fire beneath it, they would greatly heighten the impression. If these cannot be had, scarlet tinsel must be again to the fore. The tools the boys will be able to fashion; the picks have broom handles, and the iron part may be made of cardboard. The torches fastened against the wall should be of gray cardboard, with tinsel and scarlet flames, shaped to a point. For the Princess's bedroom scene a pretty dressing- table is required. Failing this, boxes draped in pale- 6 THE SILVER THREAD blue cambric. The bed, a narrow cot with a pale-blue cambric cover. Pale-blue hangings for supposed win- dows. On no account should plush or rattan chairs be used. Ordinary canvas-topped camp stools without a back can be covered in pale blue, and will take up less room than the average furniture. For the entrance of the Woman from Beyond the Hills violin music should be played off stage. For the thunder of breaking waters the sheet of tin will come into requisition a second time. This play has already been used in the schools for Group Reading as well as acting. For Group Read- ing the teacher reads the scene setting: Then the list of characters is read, and each student chooses (or has chosen for him) a part. To the lines of this part he adheres throughout the play, reading whenever it is his turn. In this way the play is taken as a lesson in English, the urge of the story as it gathers impetus making for clearer enunciation. Costumes CuBERT. Slate-gray knee-breeches, and a gray shirt, open at the neck. Dame Morna. A leaf-brown dress, ankle length, and a crossed kerchief of white. The Woman from Beyond the Hills. A purple-gray dress — the purple-gray that is the color of far-off hills. A cloak of the same, hooded. The material should be a soft woolen cloth. Princess Gwenda. When she first enters, a white THE SILVER THREAD 7 woolen dress, ankle length, falling in straight folds from a square neck. A border of cloth of gold around the edge of dress, and at neck and sleeves. If hand- some materials are out of the question, white canton flannel and gold paper fastened to It, will serve. A cloak of rose red. Mabina. Dark-green dress with square neck and full skirt, ankle length. Border of cream. Lace at throat and at elbow sleeves. A dark-green cloak. Pretty slippers and stockings. ., Alcie. Cream-colored dress the same style as Ma- blna's, bordered In cherry color. King Radnor. A golden helmet. (Ci^rdboard and gold paper.) White plume. Long riding-cloak of purple velvet. The goblins are in tight black goblin suits. All those who have speaking parts have some distinguishing mark; Mole's Ear has velvet ears; Ratkin has fur about his cap, and fur shoes. King Shadowcob has a gray beard, and a gold crown. Prince Slumpkin has a much smaller gold crown. The castle maids-in-walt- ing wear the plain robes with trains that are seen In all illustrated fairy tales. (Grimm or Anderson.) They should be of soft dull colors, greens, grays, blues. The guards wear silver helmets and silver breast- plates that join other bits of mail on the shoulders, run- ning out towards the arm so as to give the shoulders great width. (Silver paper stitched to canvas.) Cromwellian looking coats. Tall boots! The cos- tumes are buff and silver. THE SILVER THREAD* ACT I Scene I Cubert's home, A clean and somewhat bare room, with smoke-stained walls and rafters. At the left a cobbled fireplace, and above it a deal shelf on which are a few earthenware plates and cups, and a couple of pewter candlesticks. On the hearth- stone below a bellows and tongs. Also an iron platter with dark bread cakes on it. To the right, towards the background, a cupboard containing dishes. Its doors are closed. Towards the right foreground a spinning-wheel and chair. In the background, toward the right, a door, giving on the outside. Towards the left a window, rudely latticed, and swinging inward. Between this window and the door the bare wall is hung with such tools as miners use, a boring awl, an old pick, a rusty lantern, etc. In the center of the room a plain deal table, with a quaint deal chair. There is another chair of the same kind near the fireplace, * Copyright, 1910, by The Normal Instructor, , 9 10 THE SILVER THREAD The door in the background is open. Through it can he seen a range of boulder-strewn hills and the towers of a castle in the distance. The light is that of late afternoon, swiftly deepening to twilight. At the rise of the curtain. Dame Morna is contentedly spin- ning. From outside comes the sound of some one sing- ing. It is faint at first, and then grows clearer and stronger. Dame Morna raises her head and listens. She is a middle-aged woman and wears the dress of a peasant, with a crossed kerchief, CUBERT (without), " When the darkness gathers in the mountain glen, Folks dare not go a-walking for fear of Little Men! Goblins old and goblins young, clad against the weather With skin of bat, fur of cat, and gray owFs feather." Dame Morna (rising), ^Tis Cubert's voice! What can have happened to bring him home so early? CuBERT (running in ... a blithe, buoyant figure of a lad). Mother! (Flings arm about her. Then laughs, releases her, and looks toward fireplace,) How good THE SILVER THREAD ii the cakes smell! What a wonderful mother to bake such wonderful cakes! Dame Morna. They must bake yet a little more, son Cubert. You ^are well before your hour. Cubert ^ (hanging up pick and lantern on wall, back). That I am! Do I smell of gunpowder? The miners are blasting and they said Fd best be off. There's no work I can do till to-morrow, so here I am ! (Faint booming in distance,) That was a great blast! How the rocks must be flying! The goblins under- ground will be holding their ears. Dame Morna (busying herself with testing and turning the cakes, which she finally places in cupboard, leaving a few for Cubert on the table as she passes). Goblins, indeed! If the ugly creatures only stayed underground we'd have nought to complain of; but they are growing bolder and bolder. In my young days people seldom saw the goblins; yet now, as soon as twilight comes, they slip from their hiding-places In the hills, and crouch behind rocks and stunted trees, till it is hard to tell which is goblin and which is shadow. Last night when I was coming back from 12 THE SILVER THREAD neighbor Mertram's, I saw six of them sitting under the cleft of a big stone, and when I flashed my lantern on them they vanished. I wonder if it's the fine spring weather that's bringing them out in such numbers, or is it the progress the miners are making in the mine ? CUBERT. It can't be that, for the deeper we miners dig, the deeper the goblins burrow under us. Dame Morna (at her spinning-wheel). Aye, and the oldest miners in this district have never yet found the place where the goblins live. CuBERT (chuckling delightedly). Not! It took the youngest miner of them all to discover that! Dame Morna (turning quickly), Cubert, you don't mean that you Cubert (sitting on the table and nibbling at cakes). Indeed I do, mother. Listen. As I was running home to-day I heard the queerest sound like a whisper THE SILVER THREAD 13 coming from under the earth. It was so strange that I laid my ear to the ground to listen, and, sure enough, there were the goblins, talking. Their voices came from a great distance under me, but I heard them say, "To-night" and "The castle"! Dame Morna. The castle! They dare not be planning mischief to the castle! What else did they say, Cubert? CUBERT. That's all I heard, mother. After I've had my sup- per Fm going back to the same rock to find what it's all about. It will be quite dark by that time, and if I can move one of the stones without their guessing it, I can creep through and hear it all. Dame Morna. Be careful, Cubert. You know, the goblins hate the sunlight people, as they call all those who live above the ground. They're always ready to do the miner- folk a mischief. Cubert. And the castle folk, too, it may be. They said " The castle." I wonder if the Little Princess knows about them? Dame Morna. How should she? The Princess is never out after nightfall, and 'tis not the custom of the great folk in 14 THE SILVER THREAD the castle yonder to wander about the hills. I'll war- rant there's none but the miners and the miners' wives and children who have ever seen the goblins or know anything at all about them. Even if the castle servants knew it, they would not dare to tell the Princess. His Majesty, King Radnor, would not thank them for frightening her little Highness. CUBERT. Yet, if ill things are, sure 'tis better to know they are, and where they are. How did there ever come to be such things as goblins, mother? Dame Morna, 'Tis hard to tell, son. It all happened so long ago. But the wisest believe that the goblins were once creatures more like us, loving sunshine and fresh air. But their deeds were evil. In order to rob and annoy folk they took to living in mountain caves, and from that it was only a step to living altogether underground. The years went on, and, because they lived in the dark and because their minds were hideous, their bodies grew warped and hideous, too, for the insides of things will aye shape their outsides. CuBERT. How strange, then, mother, that good King Radnor lets the goblins roam at will. THE SILVER THREAD 15 Dame Morna. I doubt if King Radnor knows or cares. He keeps to his castle. It is only those who live in the open who learn to see far off. And as for the goblins them- selves, I fear there is no way in which we can be rid of them; for you cannot hurt or wound them. Their strange misshapen bodies are as hard as iron. CUBERT. And there is no one who knows how to rule them ? Dame Morna. I never yet heard certainly of any one who had power over them, though some say CuBERT (as the music of The Woman from Beyond the Hills faintly begins). Hark! Dame Morna. What is it ? CuBERT. When you said ..." has power " • • • I thought • • . I heard • . , i6 THE SILVER THREAD Dame Morna. Heard what? CUBERT (with face uplifted). Music . . . music that I seem to have been hearing for a long time . . . strong, sweet music. Such music as they play before kings and queens when they go out into their kingdoms. . . . [^The music swells gradually. Dame Morna (turning). What shadow is that across the doorway? Cubert. It is the shadow of an old woman. See! She is coming in. [The music swells louder and then stops. The Woman from Beyond the Hills enters, a mysteriously regal figure, for all that her dress is that of a peasant. Her hair is white; but her face is unlined. She wears a long gray cloak about her shoulders, whose hood half hides her face. She car- ries a tall staff. THE SILVER THREAD 17 The Woman from Beyond the Hills. Peace and strength unto all beneath this roof. IDame Morna rises. She and Cubert regard The Woman for one second's time in utter amazement. Then Dame Morna regains her self-possession, and goes hospitably for- ward. Dame Morna. I thank you. Will you not sit and rest? (Cubert hastens to bring forward the chair that is at table, center.) You are a stranger. You must come from beyond the hills. The Woman (seating herself), I am never weary; but I will rest if it pleases you, Dame Morna. Dame Morna (going back and forth from the cupboard). Will you not taste our bread and goat^s cheese? And here is a cordial I made last Autumn from moun- tain grapes. It is not well that one should cross our threshold unrefreshed, though, indeed, I know that this is but coarse fare. i8 THE SILVER THREAD The Woman. It is sweeter than some I have eaten in palaces. The white bread of queens is often bitter to the taste. CUBERT (plucking at his mother's sleeve). What means she? Dame Morna (aside, much mystified). I know not. The Woman. A grudged crust is dry on the lips, but that which is freely given warms the heart. You are wondering about me, Cubert, lad. Who am I, and why am I, your great eyes ask? Well, some say I know the ways of white magic, and some call me The Woman from Beyond the Hills, but names signify nothing, and are neither here nor there. Cubert. You call me " Cubert," and yet I have never seen you before. The Woman. Think back a little, miner's lad. 'Twas about this time last year when the river was rain-swollen, as it is THE SILVER THREAD 19 now, that you stopped on your way homeward to help an old gray woman over its muddy banks. CUBERT. I had forgotten. The Woman. But I have not forgotten. It was a good gift, the gift of kind help. I am come to-day to bring you a gift in turn. Dame Morna (a trifle proudly). My son wants no payment for serving those that need his service. The Woman. Yet he may take the love of those he serves, and the gift it gives. [Hands him a ring. CuBERT. I A ring! Oh, mother, look! The Woman. f Aye, a ring. Whenever you are in danger or trouble, place that ring upon your finger, and it will show you where lies safety. 20 THE SILVER THREAD CUBERT. I thank you. The Woman. Show you safety, I said, not bring you to it. CuBERT. I know. I must up and find my safety once Fm shown the way. The Woman. Aye, Cubert, and remember this: That which we flee from masters us in the end; but of that which we turn and face we are always master. Cubert. ril keep my face to my fear. Til not run. I will remember. The Woman (rising). And I will remember the lad who wears my ring and does not turn his back. Farewell. Dame Morn a. Must you leave us so quickly ? THE SILVER THREAD 21 The Woman. Aye, for the twilight hour is nearly done, and there's a storm brewing. Look to it, Cubert, that when you wear the ring you obey the ring. [Exit. Cubert. Hark ! the music ! ... It is playing before her as she goes! It is . . . (Rushes to door J Wait! No! She's gone ! There's not a trace of her ! Nothing but the evening mists rolling up from the valley. As for the storm she said was brewing, why, 'tis the clearest evening! The sky is just waiting for the stars to be lit. Dame Morna (lighting candles). Come in, Cubert, and close the door. 'Tis almost supper time, and the air is chill these Spring nights. I shivered as she stood there; I shivered as she went. Cubert (doing as he is bid). Do you believe what that strange old woman said about the ring? Dame Morna. How can I tell? There's wisdom that's not our wisdom, Cubert, and there are things beyond our see- 22 THE SILVER THREAD ing that we must yet believe in. A moment ago you said there was no storm in sight. Look again. CUBERT (at window). Why, the sky is full of dark clouds and the wind's rising. And last year's leaves are scurrying by with a rustle like goblin footsteps. 'Twas true, then. She can read even the storms, that strange Woman from Beyond the Hills. Was it not wonderful, my mother, that she should leave so quickly? Indeed, I cannot tell what way she took; for there, before me, is the wind- ing hillside road on which the King always rides when he comes home to his castle, and there's not a traveler on it, though I can see it plain. Dame Morna. Draw the window, Cubert. My heart, what a gust that was! (A clap of thunder sounds without,) I pity all those out in such a tempest! [^ knock at the door. Cubert (running to open it). Perhaps it is she again! [^The latch catches, but, after a moment's delay, the door is opened. Mabina and the THE SILVER THREAD 23 Princess Gwenda enter as if propelled by the violence of the storm. The Princess is a very dear and charming little girl, quaintly dressed, Mabina is quite evidently tart and self-important. Mabina. Would you keep us waiting all night in the rain? That's a fine way for beggarly miner-folk to treat the Princess ! Dame Morna (dumfounded). The Princess! z Gwenda (with pretty eagerness). Indeed, indeed you didn't keep us waiting, and per- haps the latch was heavy. Some of the castle bolts are very hard to lift, I know. Fve heard Thorwald say so. Mabina Thorwald, indeed! Come to the fire, your High- ness, and dry your cloak, if this miner lad will give us leave to pass! {^Glares at Cubert, 24 THE SILVER THREAD Dame Morna. Cubert, my son, let women have all the room they wish. I have taught you so. GWENDA (seated at fire). Thank you, Cubert, and thank you, too, Cubert^s mother. You are very kind. Mabina (haughtily). Kind! What else should they be! It's an honor to them to have you! What would the King your father say, if he could see you sitting by a hearth like this? GwENDA. He'd say I was lucky to find such a hearth, after you broke his commands by letting me be out so far from the castle after dark. Mabina (half whimpering). Your Highness knows that I lost the way, else your Highness would be home, safe and sound, this minute. Besides, no one saw us leave the castle, so we'll not be missed. THE SILVER THREAD 25 GWENDA. That*s all the worse, Mabina. Now none will hunt and find us. CUBERT. Will your Highness taste a little of my mother's spiced cordial? 'Twill make you feel warmer and stronger after your wanderings. GwENDA (quelling Mabina s objections with a look). Thank you, Cubert! (Sips it,) It's very good. And I've been so cold and frightened. Cubert. Frightened ? GwENDA. We couldn't find the road, and the way was so rough, and, as night came on, queer shadowy things looked at us from behind the rocks. Mabina. Nonsense, your Highness. GwENDA. It wasn't nonsense, Mabina. I saw them with my own eyes, and I heard them talking together, and one of them spoke my name. 26 THE SILVER THREAD CUBERT. It must have been the gob [Sees his mother s warning look, and checks him- self. Mabina (dryly). Your Highness shouldn't be afraid of the dark. GWENDA. Fm not afraid of the dark, Mabina. You know that; but I am afraid of (With a cry.) Oh, there's one now! One of those dark shadowy things that followed us. It's looking in the window! [Goblin promptly vanishes, just as Cuhert starts toward the window, pick in hand. Mabina. Her Highness is so nervous and exhausted she doesn't know what she sees. Come, Princess, drink a little more of the spiced cordial; and then, as soon as your coat and shoes are dry, we'll start for the castle. [Mabina busies herself at fire, holding the cloak near the glow to warm it, while Cubert and the Princess talk. THE SILVER THREAD 27 CUBERT. And ril go with you as far as the castle gates, I and my miner's lantern. GWENDA (looking at it with interest). Is that it? I've often longed to see a miner's lantern. Things men work with are so wonderful to a Princess. CuBERT. Not half so wonderful as a Princess is to men who really work. GwENDA (wistfully). I wish you could see me oftener, Cubert. Fm some- times very lonely at the castle. I have no mother, as you have, and there's no one young to talk to in all the great house. Cubert. But how can I come to see you, Princess, when I am only a miner boy, and you are a Royal Highness? GwENDA (innocently). What difference can that make, Cubert? (Look- ing with interest at his tools.) Is that your pickax? 28 THE SILVER THREAD IVe often heard my father say that without a pickax there would be no crown. CUBERT (pleased). Does your father say that? GWENDA (looking straight before her, and talking very earnestly). He says that a pickax means more than any scepter; because things men work with are wonderful and splendid. CuBERT (delightedly, looking at his pickax). Then I've a scepter . . . and a ring! GWENDA. A ring? CuBERT. It was given me to-day by a strange old woman who called herself The Woman from Beyond the Hills. And she said if ever I were in danger, to keep my THE SILVER THREAD 29 face towards my fear, and that the ring — ^her ring — would show me the way to safety ! Mabina (turning from fire, cloak in hand). Your Highnesses cloak is dry at last, the storm is cleared, and 'tis time we were going. [^The Princess puts on her cloak, and then, at- tracted by Dame Morna's wheel, goes over to it. They talk in pantomime, Cubert and Mabina are by the fire, Mabina (snappishly). You need not light your lantern, young sir, for we shall not need your assistance. Cubert (quietly lighting his lantern). Perhaps youM prefer the goblins* company to mine. Mabina (contemptuously). Goblins! (With an apprehensive glance at Gwenda.) S-sh! Don't let the Princess hear you! She's frightened enough as it is, of every shadow wcVe 30 THE SILVER THREAD seen along the way. Goblins, indeed! There's no such thing in the world. Why don't you put up your lantern, miner's boy? CUBERT. Because I and my lantern are needed, so, whether you like it or not, I'm going to see the Princess safely to the castle gates. (To Gwenda,) Come, your High- ness. GWENDA. Good-night, Dame Morna. Dame Morna. Good-night, Princess. GwENDA. May I truly say good-night, dear mother of Cubert? May I kiss you ? Dame Morna (moved). With all my heart! (Kisses her,) Good-night, and Heaven keep you, lonely little girl ! \_Exeunt Gw en da and Mabina. THE SILVER THREAD 31 Dame Morna. YouVe going, Cubert ? CUBERT (lingering). As far as the castle gates, my mother. And, after that, a-visiting the goblins. I must know what's a-foot to-night. Dame Morna. Remember your ring, Cubert. Cubert. Yes, mother. And 111 face my fear! Coming, Princess ! [Exit. Dame Morna (looking after them). Blessings on her gentle little Highness, and on my own dear boy! [The faint mysterious music of The Woman froTii Beyond the Hills sounds as the curtain falls. 32 THE SILVER THREAD Scene II An hour later. The goblins' forge room, A vaulted underground chamber of stone, the walls and back- ground of which are jagged rock. At the leftj towards the foreground, a jutting boul- der, sloping to a point large enough to hide from view any one crouching or standing behind it. Toward the left background the rocks divide and form a passage- way through which the goblins enter and re-enter. In the center of the stage a rude forge with embers a- glow beneath it. The curtain rises on a scene of great animation. Goblins are swarming to and fro across the stage, while Troll hammers at the forge on what look to be grotesque imitations of miner s tools. The shadows of the goblins leap fantastically in the red fire-glow. They are eerie creatures, with active, twisted bodies, and faces curiously gnarled and old. For a moment after the curtain rises there is no sound save the ringing blows on the forge. All the rest is in pantomime. As soon as the tools quit the forge the goblins hurry off, left, with them. Troll (at forge). Bring me the bellows, Ratkin! Be quick with the picks, Mottlesnout! Hurry! Skurry! This is no THE SILVER THREAD 33 time for idling. Since we have no tools such as miners use, we must weld our own. (Hammers fiercely for a moment, and then pauses.) King Shadowcob will be here presently to see how the work goes forward, and it will be ill for us if he finds our hands are lagging or our tools unmade. KOLL. My pick will bear his Majesty's inspection! MOTTLESNOUT. My crowbar would rend a granite wall! Ratkin ( yawning) » My arms ache with hammering, and the heat of the fire makes me drowsy. \^He sits sleepily at left foreground, leaning against the rocky wall. KOLL. I don*t wonder he's drowsy, he's such a glutton. There's not a goblin dainty that he can ever let pass. [Goblins laugh. Troll continues to hammer briskly, in pantomime, Koll goes to right foreground, where a group of goblins have 34 THE SILVER THREAD paused a moment to glance at Mole's Ear, who is busily employed with a large flagon and a fantastic goblet. Into the flagon he is squeezing grapes, KOLL (briskly). What are you doing, Mole's Ear? Mole's Ear. Making wine, my brother, goblin wine. Fen grapes have I used and the slimy roots of things that grow beneath the ground. And many another thing that thrives in the dark, my brother. 'Tis a rare draught. At times of ceremony we shall use it. KOLL (crossing to where CI aw foot in the extreme left fore- ground is showing to another goblin a darkly glittering throne robe). What are you doing, Clawfoot ? Clawfoot (indicating first a small loom which the goblin who was talking to htm holds j and then proudly holding up the robe). Weaving a throne robe, my brother, spangled with crystals that lie where underground springs run blackly. i THE SILVER THREAD 35 (Turns robe so that it catches new glimmers of light from the forge fire,) Does it not shimmer darkly? It is a robe of state ! [Goblins with robe and goblet disperse. The I forge remains the center of activity, Ratkin (starting from his drowsy posture). I hear the sound of some one moving stones up above us! Troll (ceasing his pantomimic hammering). Teach your ears better wisdom, Ratkin. (Ratkin begins to work bellows,) 'Tis but the rushing of the ■ river swollen by the Spring rains, or some belated miner wandering aboveground with his lantern, and little dreaming what merry work is a-doing beneath his thick heels. [The hammering begins again, loudly, with pauses of utter silence during which can be heard the strokes of Cubert's pick up above, KOLL (to goblins in background). Faster! Faster! Rest not an instant. The King will soon be here. 36 THE SILVER THREAD Troll (at forge). Blow the sparks for me, Ratkin ! Ratkin. Let Mottlesnout hold the bellows. I am so weary I can no longer move my arms. [Flings himself by rock, left, and dozes. Troll. \ Take his place, Mottlesnout, and let him rest; for he has served us well. \ Mottlesnout. i I wish we had the arts of those hateful miner-folk. Then our picks and crowbars would be as fine as theirs. KOLL. Patience, Mottlesnout. Our time is coming. [Enter Slumpkin, left. Troll j (seeing him). Come, blow the sparks for me, Slumpkin. Where have you been so long? THE SILVER THREAD 37 Slumpkin. Out on the hills, Troll, out on the hills. The Princess strayed from the castle and lost her way. We followed her, Shag and I ; but she fled from us and called us dreadful shadows. Troll (with malicious delight). She'll feel the hands of us shadows presently. MOTTLESNOUT. Aye, that she will ! KOLL. Why didn't you seize her, Slumpkin, and carry her off? Slumpkin. Aboveground ? With the miner-folk likely to appear at any moment? I am not such a fool as that, good Troll ; not I ! What a wise goblin steals is stolen by night, and silently. The sunlight people love the brightness of the day, but we are of the dark, and in the dark our deeds thrive best. MOTTLESNOUT. Aye, for none know of our deeds save the rats in the castle cellars, and the rats are dumb! 38 THE SILVER THREAD KOLL (coming down from the back of the stage). Goblins, our King is coming at last! The King! All. [General tumult of preparation. Troll. Drop work and let us meet him. MOTTLESNOUT. Aye, let us give him the greeting he deserves ! Come, Ratkin! [Rouses the sleeping goblin. Ratkin (following staggeringly as he rubs his eyes). Even in my sleep I heard the sound of some one moving rocks up above us! [The goblins rush out, left, leaving their tools behind them. A moment later Cubert forces his way through an opening in the rock, at left foreground, and, running to the center of the stage, looks about him wonderingly. THE SILVER THREAD 39 CUBERT. Is this, indeed, the place? (Looks up,) So dark! So dim! (Runs, peering right and left.) And with so many winding passages! How strange and still it is! And how the shadows dance! Here are the gob- lins' tools; but where are the goblins? There's not a sign of them, and yet this is their forge room, I know, for only a moment since I heard them hammering and talking. MOTTLESNOUT (speaking in the passage j left). Way for his Majesty! Room for King Shadowcob! CuBERT. Hark! I hear them coming! [^He runs behind boulder that juts into the right foreground, and crouches there, perfectly screened from view. King Shadowcob en- ters from left background, attended by all the goblins grotesquely bowing and capering. Troll (as goblins bring tools for inspection). Behold our work, your Majesty! Not a pick but what is as sharp as "hand can make it; not a crowbar 40 THE SILVER THREAD or gimlet but what is ready to work your will, and teach the castle-folk the meaning of goblin cunning. King Shadowcob. Well spoken, Troll, and like a true earth child. Goblins, is all in readiness? KOLL. All is in readiness, your Majesty. Our labors are at an end. The secret passage which we have hewn through the rocks and which leads from our council hall to King Radnor's castle, is at last complete, and to-day, while the Princess roamed the hills, our valiant Mottlesnout made an opening in the wall of her room. CUBERT (in an outraged voice, the cry escaping from him). Oh! Who spoke? King Shadowcob (turning), KoLL. 'Twas nought but Ratkin, your Majesty. He Is al- ways drowsing and talking in his sleep. THE SILVER THREAD 41 King Shadowcob (indignantly). This IS no time for slumber! Now or never we must act, and act quickly. King Radnor is away, the miners are weary with blasting, and the foolish castle- folk unmindful of what we goblins plan. Shoulder your tools, and let us make what speed we can to our council hall, and from thence to the castle cellars. There we will wait our time till the clock strikes mid- night KOLL (half 'breathless with delight). And then King Shadowcob. Then we will creep like rats up from the castle cel- lars through the castle tower, push back the panel that leads to the room of the Princess, and her Royal Highness will be ours. Ratkin. Aye, but what if the King's guards should discover us? King Shadowcob (frowning), A foolish question, Ratkin. There's not a guard that knows of the secret panel we have cut, and only goblins 42 THE SILVER THREAD or moles could crawl through the passage we have made. (As he speaks goblins gather round him). And if more than goblins or moles crawl through, have we not a remedy ? The river is higher this Spring than ever before. Already it has overflowed its banks. Even now, if you listen, you can hear it rushing up above you. If courtiers or miners should follow us, we will break in the walls of our secret passage, and the water from above will rush in and fill it. The river will sweep through our tunnel to the castle cellars. It will fill even our council hall. The entrance to this forge room might be found; the entrance to our council hall is past mortal finding! Ratkin. Ayt, but what of us, if the river should enter the hall? King Shadowcob (impatiently). Are there not caverns far beneath that hall where we can hide in safety till those who hunt for us are drowned ? MOTTLESNOUT. True, true, your Majesty! KOLL. Ratkin talks like a blinking owl! THE SILVER THREAD 43 Slumpkin (suddenly breaking silence), I would liefer have an owl than her Royal High- ness. King Shadowcob (glowering at him). When she is old enough you are to marry the Princess. Slumpkin. But, father, the Princess is not sweet or comely. I would I might marry some one beautiful — as we are! King Shadowcob (angrily). You'll marry whom I say, or it will be the worse for you. The Princess is the wife for you, and none other. It is she who will teach us all the arts of the sunlight people, so that, in the end, we shall be as powerful as they. Some day you will rule over your own kingdom, and theirs, too. Troll. Your Majesty, IVe heard that the sunlight people are very soft-hearted. When they are sorrowful, salt water trickles out of their eyes. What of the little Princess? 44 THE SILVER THREAD King Shadowcob. Who will hear her cries, once she is safely under- ground? The castle folk will clamor and search in vain! Our revenge will be complete. Day by day we are driven deeper into the earth; but the sunlight people have not reckoned with goblin cunning. The King^s miners burrow into our dwelling, but we shall burrow into the King's! All Goblins (fiercely jubilant). Aha! King Shadowcob. Come, goblins! The hours fly fast! Bring torches, Mottlesnout ! Go, Slumpkin, and lead the way! Carry your pick, Ratkin, lest the passage be over nar- row. Leave your forge fire, TroU. We shall not need its embers. Onward, good goblins, onward! This night the Princess shall be ours. [^Exeunt all the goblins, left, CUBERT (clambering with all haste from his hiding-place). Yours ? Never while I have a tongue to speak, or a foot on which to stand! CURTAIN ACT II The bedroom of the Princess Gwenda, luxurious in pale blue. Panels of dark wood. In background, towards right, dark panels running half the length of the room. Towards the left a long narrow window, latticed and swinging inward. On each side of it hang- ings of pale-blue brocade reaching from floor to ceiling. The window is open, giving a glimpse of a fine moonlit night. Dark hills are etched against the sky. Near the wall, left, a canopied bed, very quaint and narrow. Its head is towards the window. On the floor before it a white fur rug. At the foot of the bed a door leading into other rooms of the castle. Near the door a dressing-table with silver boxes, a jeweled hair-brush. At the right another door opening into the room beyond. Against the right wall, near foreground, a carved seat. Suspended from the ceiling, right, a beautifully ham- mered gong. At the rise of the curtain Aide and Mabina are turning down the coverlet and straightening the silver boxes on the dressing-table, on which candles are a- gleam. Aide is a pretty pink-cheeked maid-in-wait- ing, quite evidently in awe of the imperious Mabina. 45 46 THE SILVER THREAD Alcie (pausing by window), 'Tis a fine moonlit night after the rain, and I can see Thorwald the guard pacing to and fro in the court- yard beneath me, and beyond him the trees of the garden. How the river is rtishing down the mountain after the storm! It must be near to overflowing its banks; for I can hear the sound of it from here. (Leaves window,) Where were you during the shower, Mabina? Marina (haughtily). Where should I be? Alcie. I could not find you, although I looked for you and the Princess high and low. Mabina. The castle has more rooms than one, and people are always to be found by those who use their eyes. Have you laid out her Highness's sleeping-wrap? 'Tis long past her Highness's bed time. Alcie. And she seemed tired to-night, the dear little Princess! She looked quite flushed as she ate her sup- per, and she asked me the strangest questions. THE SILVER THREAD .47 Mabina (uneasily). Questions? Alcie. She wanted to know if I had ever been beyond the castle gates at nightfall, and if I had ever seen queer shadowy creatures following me as I went. 'Tis some strange idea she has got from having no other children to play with, and truly this castle is a lonely enough place with King Radnor ever traveling to other parts of his kingdom that he may see justice done to all his subjects equally. It's small wonder that the little Princess has such curious fancies. Mabina. And you listened to her fancies, Alcie? There are some that will never learn wisdom ! Alcie (humbly). I am sure I did not mean Mabina (witheringly). Did not mean! Take this candlestick, Alcie, and look where you are going! (Exit Alcicj left.) Didn't 48 THE SILVER THREAD mean! (Airily.) Unless I stay by the Princess every moment, these maids-in-waitIng will be putting more fancies into her head by listening to the ones she has already. [Exit Mabina, left, just as Cubert bursts in, right, and darts behind hangings at window, Gundred, Thorwald and Solberg hard at his heels. During the ensuing colloquy the space at left gradually fills with listening castle folk, maids-in-waiting and men-at- arms. Gundred. He went this way, I tell you ! Thorwald. Aye, I saw him myself. (Pulls back curtain, and wrenches Cubert into the middle of the room, where the miner lad, slender and young as he is, seems all the more boyish as compared to the broad-shouldered guards who surround him.) Stand forth, young miner, or now that I hold you it will go hard with you. [Mabina and Aide, alarmed at the clamor, enter from left. Aide taking the precaution to close the door behind her. Mabina. Would you rouse the castle with your uproar? What is the meaning of this? THE SILVER THREAD 49 Thorwald (shaking Cubert), It means that this young whelp of a miner's boy has returned a second time. Once before I bade him begone, and sent him from the castle gates, but now he returns and forces his way into the very castle itself. He says that he must see the Princess, and talks to us wildly of goblins and council halls. Alcie. Who ever heard the like! GUNDRED. The boy is crazed. CUBERT , (passionately), *Tis you who are crazed, because you will not listen. I tell you that this very night the goblins mean to steal the Princess. They have hewn a passage into the castle cellar — a passage that leads to the Princess's very room. SOLBERG. I said his brains were misty! For though 'tis ru- mored that after nightfall the mines are filled with strange misshapen creatures, they'd never dare ap- proach so near the castle. 50 THE SILVER THREAD Thorwald. The miner lad talks folly. 'Tis some strange dream he has had while working underground. CUBERT (beseechingly to Mabina), Oh, speak for me! You know I would not lie! Mabina. Indeed, I know nothing of the sort! CuBERT (imploringly to guards). Oh, will you not listen ! *Tis but a short time since I left the goblins' council hall, and heard them plot- ting. Thorwald (brusquely). Enough! 'Tis plain to see that the lad has lost his wits. Mabina. Aye, and a fine sight he'd be if the Princess should come in suddenly and find him here! What more you have to say can be said to him below in the courtyard. I'll not have her Highness disturbed by a roomful of people, each talking louder than the other. THE SILVER THREAD 51 CUBERT (imploringly J as Gundred lays hands on him). If you will not believe me, let me but speak to the Princess — only one word. Mabina. YouVe said words in plenty, and great good they have done ! (Haughtily, to the guards.) Will you be o£E to the courtyard, or shall the King know how his guards wrangle in the Princesses room? SOLBERG. Gently, gently. Madam Wasp's Nest! We meant no wrong! Look to the lad, Gundred, and see that he does not escape us a second time. Let the night- watch keep him in the courtyard till daylight comes. The dawn will cool his fever. [The guards during Solberg's speech have taken Cubert through the door at right, although he protests in passionate dumb-show. The castle folk exeunt right and left, and Ma- bina and Aide are left alone. Alcie (standing by the window, and speaking half-uneasily). What if it were truth that the lad spoke, Mabina? All the miner-folk believe that there are goblins. 52 THE SILVER THREAD Mabina. Are we miner-folk to listen to such tales? Where is the lad now? Alcie (at window). They have brought him to the courtyard. He is standing there now, with his face turned towards this window. Mabina. *Tis a light punishment, that, to be kept there in the courtyard. But 'twill teach him a lesson when he stands there all the hours through. Alcie. I wonder if Mabina (as a step is heard outside the door at left). Hush! Here's the Princess. GWENDA (entering, left, a pale-blue silken robe over her night- robe, pale-blue slippers). Are you and Alcie alone ? A moment ago I thought I heard several voices. THE SILVER THREAD 53 Mabina. It might have been the guards, your Highness. They were talking outside in the hall. (In alarm as Princess moves towards the window,) Come from the window, your Highness, the night air is chill. [Exit Aide, left. GWENDA. But the outdoors is so wonderful, Mabina, with the dew and the darkness, and the night wind sighing in the trees. Oh, how I wish I lived in a little house like Cubert's, and not in this great lonely castle. [Sits to have her hair brushed. Mabina. (practically). Then you couldn't be a Princess, your Highness. GWENDA. Oh, yes, I could, Mabina. My father says that every little girl is a Princess — every little girl who tries to be gentle and courteous and kind. It isn't what she wears on her back that makes her a Princess: it's what she wears in her heart. And since Cubert has a kind heart, and is always trying to do things for other people, he is really a Prince, just as much as I am a Princess, don't you see ? 54 THE SILVER THREAD Mabina. No, I dont see, and I must say that I think what your Highness is saying sounds like great nonsense. GWENDA. Ah, that's what you said about those queer shadowy things that followed us after sundown, and yet I saw them as plainly as I see you. Mabina. Don't speak of shadows, your Highness. If you think of them, you'll be apt to dream. GwENDA. Oh, no, I won't, Mabina. And, besides, I'm not afraid. Nothing could reach me here. And then there is the great gong over by the wall. I've only to strike that and all the castle people will come running. Mabina (more gently). So they will, dear Princess. I had forgotten that. GWENDA. I only wish, Mabina, that my father would come home to-night. He's been away so long, and it's almost \ THE SILVER THREAD 55 time he was back again. You know he often travels by moonlight. If he does come, you'll be sure and call me, won't you, Mabina? [Getting into bed. Mabina. Yes, your Highness. GWENDA. No matter how late it is? Mabina. No matter how late it is. GwENDA (yawning). That's a good Mabina. Oh, I am so sleepy! Mabina (really sweetly for her). Would your Highness like me to sit by you? GWENDA (very drowsily). Why, no, of course not Mabina. Won't — you — be — near — me — in — the — next — room ? [Falls asleep. S6 THE SILVER THREAD Mabina (laying out shoes and stockings). And which will she want to wear to-morrow, I won- der. Her green gown, or her blue? Princess! (A little louder,) Princess! She's so fast asleep she doesn't even hear me! She'll rest soundly after her long wandering this afternoon. (Yawns,) Well, 'tis almost midnight, and the rest of the castle is a-bed. 'Tis time I was dreaming (stretches) as soon as I have ' seen Alcie, and laid out the Princess's gowns. [Blows out candles, taking one with her as she exits left. The Princess sleeps. Moonlight steals in the window, flooding the room with faint radiance, A pause, A goblin pushes back a panel of the wall in the right back- ground, and peers cautiously in. Then he enters on tiptoe, and, as he lifts his face in the moonlight, it is seen that he is Ratkin, In the panel behind him stands Mottlesnout, MOTTLESNOUT. Is It sure she's asleep ? Ratkin. Quite sure. Mottlesnout (cautiously entering). And there's no one stirring? THE SILVER THREAD 57 Ratkin. X No one. King Shadowcob (appearing at panel, entering, and then directing gob- lins who follow him). Quickly, there, to your work. Keep guard. Slump- kin. l^The goblins quickly surround the bed, and lift up the Princess, who lies on a slip mattress placed over the real one. As this slip mattress is carried down the passage, the little Princess looks very small and hud- dled. She sleeps soundly and does not waken. Troll lags behind, Ratkin re- appears through panel. Troll. Is all safe, Ratkin? Ratkin. Airs safe, and the Princess has not yet wakened. Troll. What will she do for more clothes ? [Shag reappears from panel. 58 THE SILVER THREAD Ratkin (directing Shag), There are more on that chair. A dress and a cloak. Go take them. [Shag steals up to chair, left, just as M^bina enters by the left door, shielding her candle- flame with her hand, and not looking towards the bed. Mabina (speaking over her shoulder to Aide). Tread softly, Alcie, and make no noise! (Draught blows out candle,) What's the [Hears rustle by bed, where Shag As trying to creep by unnoticed. Turns, facing door left, sees him, shrieks, drops candlestick, in mo- mentary terror claps hands across her eyes as if to dispel the vision. Meanwhile Rat- kin and Troll disappear through panel. Shag rushing madly after them. Mabina (shaken with terror). Oh, It was something alive, it was something more than a shadow! (Looks towards bed.) Her High- ness! Where is her Highness? (Alcie enters as THE SILVER THREAD .59 Mabina runs to gong and begins to strike it,) Oh, rouse the guardsmen! (' Alcie (also terrified). What IS It, Mabina? Attendants. (entering hurriedly, left). What 1$ It? Mabina (wildly, as the stage fills with clamor and excitement). The boy spoke truth! The boy spoke truth! The goblins have stolen the Princess! There — there is the panel by which the goblins entered! Thorwald (excitedly). There is, indeed, an opening! It gives beneath my touch. The torch, there, Gundred. \^They look at passageway leading down from panel, Alcie (hysterically). The miner lad spoke truly. The Princess is gone, and she could not have passed through the halls with- out our seeing. 6o THE SILVER THREAD Thorwald. Be still! Be still! (To guards.) See, there^s a passage hewn to this very chamber. Down, then, to the rescue! We will follow! IGundred starts to descend. SOLBERG. Gundred sticks fast! A curse on our broad shoul- ders! The passage is too narrow. We must blast it. Mabina (at left of stage, standing alone save for Alciej to whom she speaks). Run ! Fetch the boy from the courtyard ! Oh, if I had but listened! [Exit Aide hurriedly, left. Hubbub of voices as guards hurry to work: " The cellar! Blasting powder! Rouse the miners!'' Mabina (tensely to herself, her hands clasped). The Princess! The Princess! THE SILVER THREAD 6i Thorwald (directing groups and individuals). Strike the great gong in the courtyard! Quick, signal fires. Speed messengers! [General stir and preparation, Cubert enters, left, followed by Aide. Mabina (running to him). Oh, miner lad, forgive me, and think quickly! The passage is too narrow for the guardsmen! Cubert (rushing to panel). But not for me! I'm goblin-sized, Mabina. SOLBERG. We are to blast it. Thorwald (to Gundred). Then bid them stay the blasting till the lad has time to reach the goblins. {Exit Gundred, left. 62 THE SILVER THREAD SOLBERG (doubtfully). ^ What will a mere lad do against so many? CUBERT (standing at the panel, facing audience, his face up- raised and shining, his voice a-thrill). What will the Princess do amongst so many unless one voice shall tell her help is coming? [^He goes down the passage. Alcie (passionately; hands clasped). Oh, speed that help! Comfort the little Princess! [Mabina has darted to window at left back^ ground, and stands there for an instant. Through the window are seen signal lights darting into flame along the dark ridges of the hills, Sound of a gong struck in the courtyard below, swift and insistent. New lights continually spring into being on the dark hillsides. It is evident that the news is spreading. THE SILVER THREAD 63 Mabina (her voice a clear cry). The countryside is rousing! Look! Look! The signal fires! QUICK CURTAIN ACT III Scene I The goblins' council hall, a short time past midnight. It is an underground chamber closely resembling the forge room in that it is all of jagged rock. Iron lamps are fitted into the wall. They give a dullish glow. In the center background a rude throne of rock, and beyond it, in the background, right, a slab-like space in the otherwise rough wall, with a huddle of stones beneath it closely resembling steps. At the right, towards the foreground, there is an in- denture in the stone wall which forms a natural niche. There is a passage at left (background) which leads to the castle cellars; and a passage at right (hack- ground) which leads to chambers still deeper under- ground. At the rise of the curtain the stage is deserted; but after a moment the goblins begin to enter; bearing the Princess, still asleep on the slip mattress. This they place in the center of the stage, after which they crouch about it in a semicircle, watching her. KOLL (as the Princess is carried in). Never a sound ! Tread softly ! She still sleeps ! 64 THE SILVER THREAD 65 MOTTLESNOUT (indicating the center of the stage, towards foregroundj and pointing to slip mattress). Shall we place it here? King Shadowcob. Yes, here. Ratkin. Hush ! She is waking ! GWENDA (stirring, then sitting up and rubbing her eyes as she gazes about her, terrified , bewildered). Where am I ? Where am I ? Oh, I thought I was safe in my own little bed with Mabina beside me! Yet if this is a nightmare, why don't I awaken? (With poignant terror.) The shadows that I feared — they've come alive! They're staring at me! Where am I? (Very piteously.) Who are you? King Shadowcob. The goblins. Princess, amongst whom you have come to live. GWENDA. To live? Here? (Brokenly, yet trying to be brave,) Why, you are jesting! \ 66 THE SILVER THREAD King Shadowcob. A goblin never jests, your Highness. GWENDA. Oh, nothing but a jest could be so cruel. No, no, good goblins, 'tis but half-earnest that you speak. If you will take me back, the King, my father, will re- ward you generously. Oh, take me home, good goblins, take me home. Indeed, indeed, my father will reward you. King Shadowcob. Who comes with us. Princess, does not return again. Gwenda (proudly). The guards will search for me. King Shadowcob. Small good will be their searching. If they should try to follow, we have means to stop them. There are few who can probe the ways of goblin cunning. There are none who can trace our paths so far beneath the ground. [^He gives pantomimic directions for Roll and Troll to remove slip mattress, which they carry to the back of the stage. THE SILVER THREAD (fj GWENDA (to herself), Cubert, the miner boy — if he knew, he would aid me ! I am the daughter of a King. A Princess should not falter. \She tries to face them with courage, but, after an instant, hides her eyes with her hands. Ratkin (with interest). It IS as Troll told us! Salt water is beginning to trickle out of her eyes! King Shadowcob. That comes from being used to daylight. Soon, Princess, you will learn to love the dark. We will teach you the ways of those who live beneath the earth. Up, then, goblins! We must prepare for ceremony. The throne-robe, KoU. The scepter, Ratkin. [^General stir, which takes the goblins to the back of the stage, GwENDA (to herself), I must not anger them. I must do as they bid me until help arrives! [^At the back of the stage the throne has been covered with the dully sparkling throne* robe, so that it forms a royal seat. 68 THE SILVER THREAD MOTTLESNOUT. Princess, your throne awaits you. [He leads her to the background. The gob- lins divide, standing in semicircle about the throne. The Princess shudders, shrinking from Mottlesnoufs touch. King Shadowcob (as G wend a is seated on throne). You will not shrink when you have known us longer, Princess. When you are older you will marry Prince Siumpkin, and be our queen. Now you shall meet the goblins one by one, and learn to call them each by name. [In pantomime the foremost goblins are pre- sented. The rest, standing in broken semi- circle, fall on one knee. Grotesque imitation of court ceremony. King Shadowcob (leading Gwenda to center foreground). Come, now. Princess, since we've pledged our fealty to you, you shall do us the same in turn. You shall drink to the goblins. Ratkin, a cup of goblin wine! [Ratkin brings the grotesque goblet filled with the wine which the goblins made in the first act. THE SILVER THREAD 69 GWENDA (surrounded by goblins, puts the cup to her lips, and then shudders). No! No! I cannot. [^Thrusts goblet blindly into Rat kins hands. King Shadowcob (grimly). We are waiting, Princess. Ratkin. A health, Princess. A health to the goblins! [Thrusts forward the cup, GwENDA (shudderingly retreating a step or two, and speaking passionately). I cannot drink it! Ratkin (as goblins close menacingly about her, while Cubert swiftly enters from passage, left). Nay, but you shall ! 70 THE SILVER THREAD CUBERT (crashing down cup from Ratkins hand)* Not while my ax can speak! GWENDA (with a cry). Cubert! I hoped you'd come! [^Clings to him in passion of relief. Goblins wrench them apart. Babble of goblin voices. "It's the miner lad/' ''Seize him!'* ''Rend him." " Tear him limb from limb." Gwenda, unable to aid Cubert, is swept in niche of the wall, right, where she remains during what ensues, Cubert fights silently and stubbornly, at right, while Shadowcob, with a group of goblins, dt left, holds ani- mated discussion. Cubert fights with his back to left group, and is too occupied with defending himself to observe what follows. King Shadowcob (watching the struggle). He IS strong, for all that he is nearly the same size as ourselves ! He must have chanced on our secret pas- sage. (To Ratkin.) Go search if there be others of his kind. [Exit Ratkin, left. THE SILVER THREAD 71 MOTTLESNOUT. He would not have dared to face so many of us if he had not known that help was near. The castle guards must be rousing ! [He darts after Ratkin. Slumpkin (excitedly). Rousing and following! [Runs toward background: then pauses, tensely, waiting for news, Ratkin (returning with Mottlesnout), The castle folk are blasting at the cellar. I can hear the echo. % Clawfoot. The miner lad would never have faced so many of us if he had not known that help was near. King Shadowcob (indicating passage at left). Then, Troll, take picks, and unloose the river from its bed. [Group of goblins armed with picks, dart after Troll, up passageway, left. 72 THE SILVER THREAD CUBERT (to himself, in a tense, clear whisper). The river! (Aloud, and valiantly, as he still fights.) Have courage, Princess! Good help is soon coming! [^The struggle sways towards the left of the stage. Slump kin darts toward the niche in the right wall, Slumpkin (with jeering laughter). When good help comes it will not find her ! [Cubert perceives that Slumpkin is approaching Gwenda. With a sudden, superhuman ef- fort he wrenches himself free, seizes a goblin crowbar from the goblin nearest him, and stands in front of Gwenda ere Slumpkin can reach her, the crowbar menacingly upheld in his hand, CuBERT. Touch her not on your life! Which of you chooses a cleft skull? Come forw^ard! l^For a moment the goblins fall back, leaving a clear space about Cubert, Then, gradu- THE SILVER THREAD ^i^ ally, they begin to close in again. Half the goblins are taking directions from Shadow- cob, left. The others surround Cubert, right. The fight goes against him. — While he is engaging the goblins nearest him, a smaller goblin, unnoticed by Cubert, slides snake-fashion along the ground, and catches Cubert by the feet. He is then tripped, caught, and wrenched into the center of the stage, while other goblins seize and hold the Princess. Cubert, seeing that he is over- matched, stands quietly for an instant, as one who would hoard his strength against a final effort. King Shadowcob. So, miner's lad, does your tongue wag as bravely, and your heart beat as stoutly as it did a moment since ? Cubert (defiantly). I fear neither you nor your goblins! {At this Mottlesnout and Koll fly at Cubert angrily, and it seems as if the struggle would begin again. 74 THE SILVER THREAD King Shadowcob. Gently, gently, Mottlesnout ! Remember he is of more use to us alive than dead. We will force him to work at our forge fire, and he will serve us well. [Ratkin, followed by other goblins who have been assisting him up passageway, left, sud- denly returns, Ratkin (at top of his lungs). Danger ! Danger ! King Shadowcob. What ails you, Ratkin? Ratkin (breathlessly). Sire, the outward walls of our passage are worn so thin that at the first stroke of my pick the water came rushing through a thousand times faster than we planned. 'Tis a muddy torrent sweeping all before it. King Shadowcob (in a frenzy of terror), Down to your lower caverns, goblins, if youM save your lives. The river is breaking in upon us! Leave the lad! He cannot harm us. We have not time to deal with him. THE SILVER THREAD 75 A Goblin (pausing by Gwenda). And the little Princess? CUBERT (again rushing to the rescue, crowbar in hand). You shall taste again what you felt before. Troll (to KoUj who approaches the Princess), Leave her, Koll. It is not worth the struggle! (Goblins swarm out, right.) Hark to the river! We have no time to lose ! Koll (with savage menace at Cubert), But I would make an end ! Troll. The river will do that ! Harken ! IT hey scamper out, the last of the goblins to go. Cubert. The river! . . . Wait, Princess! [He runs up the passageway at left, from whence comes a sound as of a torrent of 76 THE SILVER THREAD water rushing at a great distance away, yet coming gradually nearer and nearer. It is a faint sound at first, yet it increases slowly and steadily during the ensuing moments. It is never loud, but it is more and more ominous, Cubert comes back after an in- stant, feeling his ankles. The iron lamps in the wall begin to flicker and give a fainter and fainter light, GWENDA (peering at Cubert through the growing darkness, per- ceives that he touches his ankles, and also that they are water-dreuched). Why, they are wet ! The mine will soon be flooded ! The water will pour down the passageway ere the castle folk can reach us ! Cubert. No! No! Princess! There's some way out. Fll find it. Courage ! 'Tis but some trick ! Some goblin evil! (He runs to passage, right,) There's nothing but a long dark passage leading deeper into the earth! GwENDA. Can we not follow? I THE SILVER THREAD ^^'j CUBERT. We cannot breathe the air that goblins breathe. So far underground we should smother and die. \JLooks about for another means of escape. GWENDA (standing near Cubert as he pauses by rocky wall at left foreground). It is true^ then, what the goblins said? We are to die? Cubert. Courage, Princess! Oh, if the castle folk would only hasten! Oh, if they could but reach this council hall! GwENDA. It's growing darker and darker ! Cubert. Courage, sweet Princess, courage! (To himself, with face uplifted.) And yet . . . how can — I — speak of courage. ... I, who am beginning to be afraid! (His words end in a tense whisper. Then, with a visible effort, he pulls himself together.) Well, what of it? I'll face my fear! I'll meet the dark as a miner's son should! If I had but a flint with which 78 THE SILVER THREAD to strike a light. (Gropes in his pockets,) They're empty! Empty? Why, there's the ring! (Draws it forth,) My ring! She said that it would guide me! (Puts it on. Faint music as in Act I. By this time the stage has grown absolutely dark,) Isn't that her music? There's something stretching out beneath the ring like a spider's web! (At this a silver thread with a curious light about it is seen through the dark. It leads from where Cubert stands, left, to the irregular stone steps, right background. At sight of it Cubert' s voice rings out, electrified,) It's shining through the dark before us! (Follows it slowly, leading the Princess.) It's a silver thread — a silver thread of safety! I'll follow it and trust The Woman from Be- yond the Hills! 'Tis her White Magic! . . . I'll fol- low. The flood cannot hurt us. . . . It cannot dim its light. . . . We'll follow. . . . [The music, which has been growing gradually louder, now swells into a splendid harmony, A door of stone swings open at the top of the irregular stone steps in background, and be- yond it is seen a vista of hills bathed in pale moonlight. Cubert (in a thrilled voice). Princess! We're ifree! We're done with fearing! *Tis the wane o' the moon. The dawn wind is astir! THE SILVER THREAD 79 GWENDA. How soft it blows against my face! O wind, teach us, teach us where lies safety ! CUBERT (joyfully expectant), O Silver Thread, guide us — guide us now to safety! \^He moves, with uplifted face, his finger fol- lowing the Silver Thread, his arm protect- ingly about the little Princess. The light moves with him, following him as he exits. The door closes behind him. The stage in- stantly grows black. There is a wild sound like the thunder of waters tearing through the passage, as the curtain falls. Scene II Cuberi's home, the same as in Act I, Faint moon- light, giving way to the blackness that comes before the dawn. Against the horizon, signal fires a-light. Dame Morna enters from without, pauses in doorway, and speaks as one to whom the silence is intolerable, and the sound of any human voice — even her own — a comfort. Dame Morna. Still fires a-blaze, and men at work! More men. And yet no sign of Cubert and the Princess. Oh, I 8o THE SILVER THREAD would work with the men myself, but there is nought that I can do to aid them. They have no need for women folk at such an hour. The dark before the dawn, and yet no sign! Only blackness. Oh, if the castle guards had reached the passage in time, but now the mine is flooded with water — the river is rushing in. (With flicker of hope.) And yet — there may be other passages — goblin passages that folk do not know. Cu- bert is quick and brave! I know he'll find them! But oh — the waiting! (Sound of faint music) What's that ? What's that ? 'Tis like an echo ! Now I remember — 'twas The Woman from Beyond the Hills — an echo of her music. What was it that she said? That folk must face their fearing. So if my lad must die, is it not well that he should die defending? (With face upraised.) Fight bravely in the Dark, my little Cubert ! And yet — he may not die. I have no beacon light, and yet — oh, here within me — the fire of Hope — I'll keep it burning strongly. Oh, if that hope could reach him through the darkness! There are things be- yond my knowing. Perhaps it may. Perhaps it may. I'll set out milk, and keep the hearthstone warm. (Bends at hearth.) Was that a step? (Turns.) A voice in the darkness? Cubert (entering with the Princess), A step ? There spoke my mother I THE SILVER THREAD 8i Dame Morna. Cubert! *Tis you! (Clasps him to her.) Your very self! (Holds out welcoming hands.) And the little Princess ! Cubert. All safe, all safe, my mother. I brought her first to your warm arms and tender care. Dame Morna (as she leads the Princess to the hearth). You are not going, Cubert? Cubert (pausing). To tell the news, my mother. Why, you would scarce believe it ; but of all the folk who are stirring we met not a single one ! [Exit Cubert. Gwenda (seated at hearth). No, all w^as dark around us save for the Silver Thread that ran beneath Cubert^s fingers — the Silver Thread that came from the ring and guided us to safety. Sz THE SILVER THREAD Dame Morna (to herself J. The ring — the ring that would save him if he did not fear. Oh, that was Wisdom's wisdom ! GWENDA. What say you, Dame Morna? Dame Morna. Drink this milk, my Princess. So cold you are, and wet with dew. Stand closer to the fire. GWENDA. I am not cold, Dame Morna. Listen! They're cheering! (Runs to window.) Why, 'tis my father on the highroad to the castle! 'Tis the King, my father! He has come back, and I must run to meet him. Give me the cloak. Dame Morna. I must tell him all. [Exit Gwenda. Dame Morna (watching at window). He has lifted her up to his saddle, and my son stands there beside him. They are coming here. THE SILVER THREAD 83 King Radnor (entering J followed by Gwenda and Cubert), I seek the happy mother of a brave son. I can offer Dame Morna nothing; for in Cubert she possesses more than the gold of kings. But to Dame Morna's son, for all that he has done this night, I will give that which he asks, and I will not stint the giving. Cubert. I humbly thank your Majesty; but there is little that I wish save a velvet gown for my mother; and a new pickax for myself. King Radnor. I would have given you the half of my kingdom, boy ! Cubert (confused). Indeed, sire, I would not know what to do with half a kingdom! King Radnor. Yet it is wise heads and brave hearts such as yours that should help kings to rule. Gwenda (smiling at Cubert). That means you'll come to the castle every day. [Solberg enters, breathlessly, and falls on one knee before the King, 84 THE SILVER THREAD King Radnor. Why, how now, Solberg? SOLBERG. I bring you great news. Sire. The schemes of the goblins have fallen on their own wicked heads. The river that they turned from its course has become a rag- ing torrent. It has broken in the walls of their very deepest passages, penetrating far beneath their council hall. The hideous bodies of dead goblins fill the mines. There^s not one left to tell the tale. [King makes gesture of dismissal; Solberg rises, bows, and exits, GWENDA (quickly). So you see, father, if it hadn^t been for Cubert, I wouldn't be here now. I need no longer fear the shadows ! [King and Princess exeunt. Cubert (joyfully). You'll be going to court, my mother, and wear a vel- vet gown! I THE SILVER THREAD 85 Dame Morna. What do I care for velvets, now that I have you safe ? CUBERT (at door: the sky is flushed with dawn; the signal fires are quenched). See, mother, see! Dame Morna. See what, dear lad o' mine? Cubert (in a wonder-thrilled voice). Look ! There where the sun is rising the strange old woman of yesterday stood for a moment on that hill- top, and the light was on her face, and as I looked at her she smiled. (Turning hack into room,) What think you that it means — the visit she paid us, the ring she gave me, the Silver Thread that guided me to safety? Does it mean that if we are brave and steadfast the dark will always clear? Does it mean that faith and courage help to lead us upward ? Dame Morna (her arm about him). Aye, son, until we come unto the light at last ! CURTAIN THE FOREST SPRING An Italian Folk Play CHARACTERS Am ATA, an old woman Giovanni, her young grandson FiAMMA^ the daughter of a neighbor The Spirit of the Forest THE FOREST SPRING Source In many Italian folk tales, as In the folk tales of other European countries, the search for eternal life is a popular theme, and the spirits of springs and of foun- tains and forests are akin to the wise and informing fairies of other nations, only in Italian folklore they seem to be the direct descendants of dryads and naiads. The Fountain of the Water of Life is the goal of many seekers. Sometimes it is an old woman who seeks it, sometimes a lad. (See the folk tale entitled "The Castle of Life " in Laboulaye's " Fairy Tales of All Nations.") Stage Setting While this play is designed for out-of-doors, either in woodland spaces, parks, or playgrounds, a schoolroom production is perfectly possible. Screens covered with green burlap form the sides and background. Large green ferns, their pots coverei with dark-green cam- bric that is placed about them so that they appear to spring from mounds. A brown floor cloth strewn with leaves of green and brown tissue paper. The 89 90 THE FOREST SPRING vines and the blossoms can also be made of tissue paper. So can the scarlet flower. Two small barrels nailed together and covered with brown burlap from the fallen tree. To this green crape paper is fastened for moss. The tree stump behind it is made of a pole hatrack wound with green and brown cambric. A few tissue- paper leaves fastened to twigs, or artificial branches, should be hung on it. The green bank where the hidden spring runs can be formed by a sloped box covered with, green cambric. The spring, a succession of small mirrors, with green cambric or tissue paper surrounding them. - The cup is made of rock candy. The whole is strewn with green leaves. Costumes Amata. a leaf-brown dress. White kerchief around her neck. White apron edged with scarlet and green. A dark-green handkerchief fastened prettily about her gray hair. Tissue paper or cambric may be used for kerchief and apron, over the everyday clothes of the girl who plays the part. Large gilt earrings. (Curtain-rings.) Giovanni. Black knee-breeches. White stockings to simulate bare feet. A white shirt open at the neck. FiAMMA. A scarlet skirt. White guimpe and apron. A scarlet peasant bodice. Scarlet and blue beads about neck. Hoop earrings. A draped scarlet head-dress such as can be seen in any pictures of Italian THE FOREST SPRING 91 peasant life. Apron and head-dress also of tissue paper, if cambric is not forthcoming. The Spirit of the Forest. Pale-green cambric under-robe falling in graceful folds to the floor. Over- robe of dark, mottled green, fastened at shoulders and sweeping behind as a train. This cambric over-robe should have black and gilt markings so that it resem- bles snake's skin. THE FOREST SPRING* Scene: A deep wood near Salerno, Trees at right, left, and background. Vines with starry white blossoms. White wild flowers. At the right, on a slender stem, a great scarlet flower, glowing and beautiful. In the right foreground a mossy slope, with here and there some stones showing whitely against it, and small ferns clustering thickly. Towards the middle of the stage a fallen log, mossed and aged. Upright behind it a stump so overgrown with moss that its bark shows through only here and there, a mere brown glimmer. Underfoot the leaves of many autumns have drifted and rotted till a bronze and brown carpet of them stretches beneath the trees. At the rise of the curtain Fiamma comes in from left, looking about her for more fruit to pluck, and car- rying with her a basket already half-filled. Finding a vine of berries, she kneels by it, her back turned towards Amata and Giovanni, who enter from the right. It is evident that they, too, have been gathering wild fruitL Each of them carries a basket. Amata. Is It, indeed, you, pretty Fiamma? ♦Printed by arrangement with Popular Educator.. 93 94 THE FOREST SPRING FlAMMA (turning). Well met, Neighbor Amata. And the young Gio- vanni — how tall and handsome he is growing! [Giovanni, who is a very little hoy, hides shyly behind Amata at these words, Amata (seating herself on log), I thought it was your bright kerchief I saw through the branches, Fiamma. (Indicating Fiammas basket.) The forest has richly rewarded you for your toil ! Fiamma (indicating Amata' s basket). You, also, Amata! And is it not strange; for at the tdgt of the forest there were neither figs nor ber- ries; yet here we find them in abundance. Amata. And flowers. Have you noted, Fiamma, strange flowers, all heavy with perfume? And herbs that I cannot name. Surely there is no part of the wood that I do not know ; for I have lived on the edge of the forest all my life, yet never do I remember to have seen this spot before. THE FOREST SPRING 95 FlAMMA. Nor I, Amata. But shadows play strange tricks. This wood is not the same at dawnlight and at twilight. Often I come on summer eves when the forest lies all black and silver in the moonlight, when familiar paths seem strange and the silence makes you hear your heart- beats. Then I remember strange tales that were told to me at the hearth-fire, and the forest that by day- light I knew so well becomes an unknown country into which I dare not go. Amata. Folk tell less of old tales than they did, Fiamma. In my young days folk said that a wondrous spirit roamed the forest. Her robe was green as the leaves, and her hair was bound with a chaplet. Men heard her voice come singing down the winds of Summer, and saw her footprints in the snows of Winter. Fiamma (eagerly). And was it not in those olden days that men be- lieved that in this wood was the spring of immortality, and that whoever could find it and drink of its shining water could live forever on this good green earth? Amata. Aye, so men believed. And in my youth I believed it also. Often and often I searched for it. Often and 96 THE FOREST SPRING often I half-believed that I had found it. And some- times even now, w^hen the leaves whisper together with a sound as of running water, I listen and look for that enchanted spring whose beauty is more than mortal, and whose taste is life. It would be a wonderful thing, Fiamma, never to leave the blue sky and the sunshine, never to bid farewell to the grass and the growing flowers. Fiamma (kneeling by A mat a), i Of that I seldom think, good Amata. But folk are always talking, and other tales they tell, too, of a flower that grows here in the forest whose juice holds magic properties. Folk say that if mortals touch it to their eyelids that for an hour they see strange things — enchantments. Amata (shaking her head). 'Tis only old folks say these things, Fiamma. The world no more believes them. And you Fiamma. I, too, I only half-believe them. (Springing up.) Come, dear Amata. Let's test the wondrous fables. Let me try essences upon your eyelids! (Going to right of stage.) See! Here's a scarlet flower, and THE FOREST SPRING 97 scarlet is for magic. A strange flower, too, that grows not in our village! (Plucks it,) Hark! \^Far away, yet sweet and silvery, a bell chimes four, Amata. The bells in the village steeple strike the hour! The sound comes clearly through the silent air. FlAMMA (laughing, as she crushes juice from scarlet flower onto Amata s eyelids). Now, dear Amata, you will see — such wonders! Amata (smiling and opening her eyes). A pretty girl, and a boy with a well-filled basket! FlAMMA (shaking her head). No ! No ! You are teasing me ! Come, Giovanni, ril show you where more fruit grows. Wait here and rest, Amata. Come, Giovanni ! \_Giovanni, who has been making a cat's cradle, leaves off, and follows her. They exeunt left, towards background, their voices sound- ing further and further away. 98 THE FOREST SPRING FlAMMA (in distance). Come, Giovanni! Giovanni (still further away). Are there figs, Fiamma? Amata. Fiamma is ever jesting! Yet a mischief take the juice she rubbed on my eyelids. 'Tis warm and smart- ing. I could not have thought that the essence of a chance flower could prick so keenly. (Rubs eyes,) Why, do I dream, or has something happened to my eyesight? I seem to see every separate leaf distinctly, and the sunshine is twice as golden, and the sky more deeply blue. ]^Rubs eyeSj opens them again, and sees the spirit of the Forestj who has silently entered from right, a radiant, green-clad figure, chapleted, and with a green-gray cloak that shimmers like a snake's skin, Amata (vigorously rubbing her eyes once more). Oh, I am dreaming, surely! THE FOREST SPRING 99 The Spirit of the Forest. Some might call it dreaming, and others might say it was seeing clearer than is your wont. Be not afraid, Amata. Only a moment since you spoke my name. Amata (half -dazed). You were here, and heard me ? The Spirit of the Forest. Aye, but you could not see me till the juice of the magic flower was laid upon your eyelids. Amata. Indeed, I knew not ^twas a magic flower. 'Twas by chance Fiamma plucked it. The Spirit of the Forest. Chance works strange miracles, Amata. Amata. But none so strange as this. Oh, you are very won- drous! Your robe — your chaplet The Spirit of the Forest. All that I have is of the forest's weaving. All things the forest lent to my adorning. The soft brown bark 100 THE FOREST SPRING of trees has made my sandals. My robe is fashioned of discarded snake-skins. (Indicating robe she wears beneath her snake-skin cloak.) And this Is gossamer all palely tinted with the storm-crushed stems of wild- flowers and of fern leaves. My chaplet — woven of the olive! (Indicating tall staff which she carries, and which is topped with a lily.) This lily from my deep- est forest pool. These pearls are dewdrops strung on cobweb threadings. 'TIs well the magic flower has touched your eyelids. Now for an hour you'll hear and see enchantments. This is my best loved spot in all the forest. Here do I paint the wings of butterflies. Here do I counsel all shy, furry creatures. Here Is the open book of Forest Wisdom. Here Is the key to for- est mystery! (With face uplifted,) This is a spot where dreams sometimes come true; and where folk meet at last with Hear'-'s Desire. Listen, Amata. Let the forest speak to you. Amata (with face uplifted), Harken ! Above the whisper of leaves, and the mur- mur of little creatures in the grass, I hear the sound of running water. (Turns to slope , at left. Brushes back leaves and ferns in excited haste.) A spring! With water like silver ! Never have I seen the like be- fore! And amid the ferns Its stones are crystal. And hollowed out there is a crystal cup ! (Holds it up, then turns to The Spirit of the Forest,) The immortal THE FORE^^/'SP^IXG loi spring! The immortal sp/iijg!- I wonkier-- -.s :r true that I have found It? Oh, all my life I've sought it. Oh, Spirit, is it true that I have found it? The Spirit of the Forest. Aye, it is true, Amata. Amata. Have village folk come here, and tasted it, fair spirit ? The Spirit of the Forest. Aye, village folk have come ; but none have tasted it. Amata. But I will taste of it! (Kneels and fills cup.) And live forever on this good green earth. (Rises, cup in hand,) My old eyes will see clearly. My old feet will move swiftly. There'll be no more hobbling. The Spirit of the Forest. Nay, Amata. The spring gives length of days; but 'tis no cure for pain. For sorrow and pain are mortal, and though you tread the earth forever, these shall you bear with you throughout the centuries. No mortal ever yet escaped them. 102 THE F.CRfiST SPRING , ; Amaxa (kneeling by spring, yet lowering the cup from her lips). The spring seems not so silver as I thought. And yet. . . . To live forever! [/^ about to put cup to her lips. The Spirit of the Forest. Does sweet Fiamma love you ? Amata (pausing). Aye, that she does. The Spirit of the Forest. And all the village maids — the sturdy lads — do they not love you also? Drink of the spring, yet ere you drink, Amata, remember that hereafter folk will fear you — the strange Amata who can live forever! And where fear is, love is not. Amata (again lowering the cup). The cup has lost its sparkle ! But, fair spirit, to live forever on this good green earth ! This is the spring IVe ever sought to find, and now that I have found it THE FOREST SPRING 103 The Spirit of the Forest. Drink then, Amata. Yet ere you drink, think deeply. All the young folk you know will age, and you will still be living. Blithe Giovanni Amata (with a cry, dropping cup, which shivers into a hun- dred pieces). Not my little grandson! I could not bear to think of him as aging! (To herself,) To live forever! Feared — not loved and cherished. Why, all my friends would leave me, one by one. Oh, if I could, I would not live forever. I see it now. I would not live forever. Oh, I am glad I did not taste the foun- tain. But I have broken the cup ! The Spirit of the Forest. The years will mend it. And other folk will think to take a draught from it, and yet none ever will; for ere they drink they'll pause, as you have done, Amata. And the spring will be untasted. \^The Spirit of the Forest waves her tall staff over the spring. In the distance the bells toll faintly the hour of five. Amata Why, now the bells are chiming! Another hour has sped! (Turns to see The Spirit of the Forest, who 104 THE FOREST SPRING meantime has tossed the drifting leaves across the spring with her tall staff, and vanished into the forest by the opening, left foreground.) And she has vanished — The Spirit of the Forest. And the immortal spring — I won- der, was I dreaming? (Bends over it,) There's neither spring, nor cup. (Rubs eyes,) And the forest looks as always. 'Twas some trick of my eyes. I have been dreaming. There are no magic flowers with scar- let petals. I've been a-drowsing. Yes, that's sure. That's certain. (Giovanni enters, left background,) Oh, Giovanni, it is time you came ! Giovanni (holding up basket), I've brought you berries. FlAMMA (entering, left). And rich figs — of the ripest. Amata. I have been gathering, too. Giovanni. What have you gathered ? Amata. Wisdom. THE FOREST SPRING 105 Giovanni (peering) , And yet — I do not see it in your basket. I Amata (touching her heart and brow). My child, 'tis here and here one gathers wisdom. FlAMMA. And the flower's essence — what did it do, Amata? Amata. Ah, who shall say, Fiamma, who shall say ? Whether its juice was magic-filled, I know not; but this I know — that I see all things clearer. (A shadow falls thwart their pathway,) Look! The night is coming, and we had best be turning to the village, to lights that wait us, and to hearts that love us. [^They move towards the right of the stage, f Fiamma. And the spring, Amata, the enchanted spring? Amata. Better a draught from our own village well than any io6 THE FOREST SPRING fabled fountain; better the joys we have than dreams we do not know ! [Through a sudden flush of sunset that deepens swiftly to a grayish hint of twilight they move with contented faces through the wood at right, and disappear from view. CURTAIN THE FOAM MAIDEN A Celtic Folk Play CHARACTERS MoiRA Farrel Michael, her son The Foam Maiden THE FOAM MAIDEN Source The sources of this folk play are the Celtic folk tales wherein the merrows, or mermaids, hold an important part. To be able to snatch a merrow's cap, the scarlet cohullen druith, was to gain a power over the merrow which nothing could break till the merrow recovered the cap again. The folk tales wherein the merrows appear have many variants, but through them all the same note is struck : it bodes ill for mortals to have to do with magic or sea-wonders. Sometimes it is a fisher lad whom the merrow dupes; sometimes it is a hardy seaman who listens to their sweet singing, and is be- witched by it. That the merrows charmed fishes as well as mortals with their singing is a superstition voiced not only in Celtic folk lore ; but in Scandivanian legends where sea-going folk are anxious to capture mermen that they may " call the fishes." But ill luck always seemed to come of holding a merrow or mer- man captive, and so quick was the retribution dealt out by the mermen that a Norwegian folk-saying came into being, " Then laughed the merman," meaning that vic- tory was short-lived, the phrase drawn from a folk tale which had its parallel in the old Irish, in the legend of Aided h Fergusa, 109 110 THE FOAM MAIDEN Stage Setting The schoolroom setting will do admirably for this play, and schoolroom furniture likewise. A hearth formed of boxes fastened together by a board. The space in between is the hearth. The whole should be covered with gray canvas bulked to represent stone, and marked wuth black and white chalk. A hearthglow of two red electric lights, or gray and scarlet tissue paper, at first covered with shreds of gray tissue paper, which are blown from off the supposed fire with a bellows. If the right number of exits cannot be had, cover screens or frames with sacking or burlap. The net can be fash- ioned of common string. Costumes The Foam Maiden. Pale-green robe of cheese- cloth, or pale-green net over pale-green glazed cam- bric, which will look like the satiny gleam of seaweed. Seaweeds, real, or of paper, fastened here and there to her robe. Pearls about her neck and in her hair and about her arms. White stockings to simulate bare feet. MoiRA Farrel. a scarlet petticoat, with a black tuck-up. A black bodice, and small white kerchief at neck. Michael Farrel. Gray shirt, open at neck. Loose gray breeches. A tattered coat of the same color. THE FOAM MAIDEN* Scene: A room in a fisherman's house on the west coast of Ireland, In the middle background a door giving on a strip of beach. This door is made in two pieces, so that the upper part can be opened, while the lower is left closed. At the right of the door a window curtained in quaintly flowered cambric, A door left, towards the foreground, and another door, right, towards the background, open into small sleeping-rooms. A crude cobbled hearthstone, left, and turf for a fire. Some iron pots and skillets. On the shelf above stand a few bits of crockery. Near the hearth a three-legged stool. In the center of the room a plain pine table with a stool on each side of it. Against the middle of the right wall a shelf cupboard, with a few dishes, a jar of oatmeal, and some oaten cakes. At the rise of the curtain the stage is empty and dark. After a moment Michael enters, candle in hand. He is a likely frank-faced lad with a gray shirt open at the neck, and knee-breeches much the worse for wear, A moment after he has entered, the door at right opens, and Moira comes into the room, a peasant woman with a keen sweet face, and hair that is touched with gray, ♦Printed by arrangement with The Normal Instructor, III 112 THE FOAM MAIDEN her scarlet petticoat making the one bit of color in the meager dwelling. She carries a candle, shielding it with her hand, MoiRA. What o'clock is it, Michael, at all? Michael. It lacks an hour of the gray of the dawn. Why are you up so early, mother? You'd best go back and sleep. MoiRA. I heard you stirring and came to see what troubled you. Why are you off before the daylight ? Michael. 'Twas just a dream I was having. It came to me while I slept that something was wrong with the nets, and I thought I'd best be seeing. MoiRA (opening the upper part of the door and leaning out), 'Tis as black as pitch ; but I can hear the far waves dancing on the reef. There's a fair wind blowing, and you'll have a steady pull. THE FOAM MAIDEN 113 Michael. Well, then, 'twill be the easier coming back. Where's my lantern, mother? MoiRA (running to build fire and put on pot). It's half asleep you are, Michael. Wait, now! There's a sup of stir-about left. (Michael starts for door.) Nay, Michael Michael (turning at the pleading sound of her voice). Well, then, to please you, mother! MoiRA (fondly). It's little difference one moment will be making. And a strong net like 3^ours needs more than a run- ning sea to be disturbing it. Michael (supping stir-about at fire). Are any of our neighbors stirring at all? MoiRA (at window). Nary a one, Michael. 'Tis all alone you'll be. 114 THE FOAM MAIDEN Michael. Save for the wind and the waves, and maybe some merrow sitting far out on the rocks with the brown seaweed drifting about her pretty feet, and the pearls a-shining in her long hair. And sinking to herself, be- like, some strange song or other. Sure, folks do say its the sweetest and most lulling music in the whole wide world. MOIRA (terrified). Michael, you'd never be listening! Michael. Trust me! Sure, the lad that listens to a merrow's singing falls asleep in his boat, and lucky he is if he reaches land at all. But the lad that can snatch a merrow's cap — the cohullen druith that they do be wearing — ah, he's the one to be envied ; for he holds in his hand a charm that can never be broken till the mer- row gets the cap again. [Sits a-dream. MoiRA (briskly). Wisha, now, what's all this talk of charms and spells? It's ill-dealing that has to do with magic! It's no dreamers we are; but hard-working fDlk. Here's THE FOAM MAIDEN 115 your lantern, Michael, and good luck to you. I'll be putting on more stir-about and with that and a bit of fish, maybe, 'tis a fine breakfast we'll be having when you're back again. And perhaps I'll be taking another wink or so, just to please you, and then it's my- self that will be ready for a long day's work. (Michael takes lantern and goes out the door in background, Moira stands for a moment watching him.) Ah, it's the fine lad he is, and it's myself that's proud of him! Look at him now, with his torcheen the only moving thing in all the blackness! Troth, it's a wonderful meal I'll have for him when he comes home again! (Stirs about the room,) . . , Merrows, indeed ! . . . [Puts down her candle, blows out MichaeVs, and places it on a shelf above hearthstone ; fills pot with water for porridge; takes out oatmeal, and pauses every now and then to shield her eyes and look without the while she sings: Air: The Pretty Girl Milking Her Cow ("A valley lay smiling before me") There's some would be meddling with magic — (They'd be wiser to leave it alone!) For to hark when a merrow is singing 'Twill bring them but sorrow, och hone! When the dances the fairies are weaving Make rings on the grass everywhere, *Tis then, when the sunset is fading, Of spells and all magic — Beware! ii6 THE FOAM MAIDEN O there's nights when the surf seems to whisper, And the wind pipes the softest o' tunes; When the shadows lie black on the causeway, And the kelpies are out on the dunes ; Strange lights they do flit on the moorland — Strange voices they call through the air: 'Tis then, at the deep hour o' midnight. Of spells and black magic — Beware! But oh, in the dark of the dawning Comes the hour when the spells take their hold ! When the sea is uneasy and troubled, And the mists they are wraith-like and cold ; 'Tis a time when strange things do be brewing. And charms do be weaving a snare — O then, between dawning and darkness, Of spells and sea magic — Beware ! When Michael (without, excitedly). Mother! Mother! MOIRA (running to door, flinging it wide and looking without). It's never Michael back again? Heaven save us! What is it he's bringing? [Michael enters in a joyful triumph, net on arm, a merrow following him, a slender creature THE FOAM MAIDEN 117 robed in pale misty green, with shells and pearls gleaming about her arms and unbound hair. Through all that ensues her fathom- less eyes look far beyond Michael and his mother J and save for the steps she takes to cross the room, she is as motionless as she is mute, Michael (his voice ringing clearly). What am I bringing at all but a merrow maiden! Lift up the light and look at her, mother. *Tis like a pearl she is, and her robe a green mist. MoiRA (half-speechless). - The saints preserve us ! Michael (still passionately triumphant). Fast asleep she was, floating on the water, and when I wakened her straight into my net she swam, be- wildered-like, and the very next minute I snatched off her cap, and now she must do my bidding whether she likes it or no ! [^The Foam Maiden crosses and sits on stool by fire, facing audience. ii8 THE FOAM MAIDEN MoiRA (halHearful). You'll be offending her, Michael, if you talk like that. (To the Foam Maiden,) You mustn't mind him at all! It's himself that sometimes forgets his manners! (To Michael,) Troth, she isn't listening! It's only the call o' the sea she's hearing and nought else. And there is a far look in her eyes as if it was only the waves she was seeing ! Michael. True for you, mother. Never a word does she know, and never a word has she spoken. I'm thinking it's folly that folks are talking when they speak of a Foam Maiden's singing. 'Tis as dumb as a stone she is, and as beautiful as the morning. Did you see the seaweed in her hair and the pretty pearls she's wearing? Look at her now, resting by the hearthstone as if she'd al- ways lived with us ! Ah, wasn't I the lucky lad to find her! She'll sit in the prow of my boat, and draw the fishes to me, and there'll be no more days when I come back to you empty-handed from the bitter sea! Why aren't you glad with me, mother ? MoiRA (soberly). Because I'm thinking it's ill to be meddling with magic. The work a lad does with his own hands is THE FOAM MAIDEN 119 his, and will bring him joy; but the work he makes another do for him is never his own. No ! No ! Sea magic, or shore magic, 'tis all the same. You'd best be leaving it ! Michael (with stubborn flare). Indeed and Til not, then! MOIRA (with growing indignation), 'Tis yourself you are thinking of, and none other! What will I do with her sitting there in the chimney corner all the day long, with those white hands of hers lying empty in her lap! Can she bake? Can she spin? Can she mend the fire for me? It's trouble you've brought me, and nought else ! Michael. Nay, nay, mother. Think of the fish she'll bring us. MoiRA. Your own arm, and your own wit, they've always been enough for you. Why should you be changing things now? Take my word for it, Michael, I've seen the years come and I've seen the years go, and my old heart knows that it's the lad that helps himself that's 120 THE FOAM MAIDEN the lucky lad. Give the merrow her cap, and you'll be glad you took my word. Michael. Wisha, now, I'll do no such thing! (Opens his rough coat, and shows scarlet cap, edged in pearls. Unseen by either Moira or Michael, the Foam Maiden bends forward and looks at it keenly, and then sits mo- tionless again as before.) The cap is mine, and why should I be returning it? (Coaxing.) Take a bit more rest, my mother, and then things will look in a better light to you! (Rises, and, with arm about Moiras shoulders, leads her to the door at right. Then looks at Foam Maiden.) With her to guide me, I needn't be setting off till daybreak. Moira (reluctantly). You'll not listen to her if she should begin speaking? You'll not be letting her put a charm on you? Michael. Wisha, now, mother, how could she put a charm on me? Isn't she the one that must do as I say, forever? (His mother enters and closes door, right. Michael seats hijnself by table.) It's myself that can laugh now, and be working when I please! (Gazing at the silent Foa?n Maiden.) Isn't it strange to look up and see THE FOAM MAIDEN 121 a merrow sitting there! What is it she's thinking of at all, I wonder? It's not the hearth or the peat smoke, I'll be bound! 'Tis like a dream to look at her, and sometimes I wonder if it isn't dreaming I am! [Rests head on arms. The Foam Maiden (cautiously stirring after a moment's silence, and speak- ing lullingly yet clearly; faint music, like the musical ripple of water, plays softly off stage as she speaks). Sleep ! Sleep ! Fathomless, deep! Michael (drowsed and bewitched). Is it awake or asleep I am, or dreaming entirely? The Foam Maiden (softly rising and moving, and then standing with arms upraised as if in incantation). By the wild white sea horses that no man can master. By the blown spray that flies o'er the reefs of disaster. Let slumber enfold him ! Chain him and hold him! [Michael sleeps profoundly. The Foam Maiden approaches him lightly and scornfully. You who are holding a merrow in thrall. Did you not know I would hear the waves call? 122 THE FOAM MAIDEN My cap did you steal and me landward you bore. Who meddles with magic shall meddle no more ! [Pauses, looking down on him. Did you think I was deaf save to curlew's wild cry? Did you think I was blind, save to gulls wheeling by? I who saw, I who heard Every step, every word! I, who am wise As the petrel that flies Ere the break of the storm! I who am kin to the wind and the spray That call me away! [She unfastens his coat softly, and takes out the scarlet cap, holding it rapturously. Yield now the cap you have stolen from me! Free am I now as the foam of the sea! Free with my druith all broidered in pearl To sit on the rocks where the green combers curl! [Bends over him tauntingly. Long and long, foolish lad, shall ye pay for its stealing; For when ye are out where the gray gulls are wheeling, 'Neath the keel of your boat Shall the mermaidens float — Shall laugh through the water Each Sea King's fair daughter! THE FOAM MAIDEN 123 Shall mock you and flaunt you And beckon and taunt you, Shall drag at your nets with hands white as foam, Shall turn your boat seaward when you would turn home ! ISnatches up net, and knife from table. And the net^ne'er again shall it snare a sea maid. Thus and thus ! Thus and thus is your folly repaid ! [Cuts the net to shreds. Then pauses with head thrown back, listening to the sound of the sea, where the tide is rising. Hark, the sea and its urge! Hark, the voice of the surge! It bids me begone! [Moves to door with the glad look of one greeting a comrade. Wild wind, lead thou on! [Exit the Foam Maiden. A moment's silence, during which Michael sleeps as before. The gray of dawn begins to steal into the room. The candle gutters and dies, Moira enters, her sleep over. She bends over Michael and shakes him gently, the while she looks con- cernedly at the place left vacant by the Foam Maiden, She does not at first perceive the ruined net. 124 THE FOAM MAIDEN MOIRA. Michael! Michael! 'Tis time for you to be rous- ing yourself! Michael (wakingj stares J sees place left vacant by Foam Maiden, claps his hand to his breast, and finds the cap is missing). The druith — 'tis gone! And the Foam Maiden's gone with it ! MOIRA. Well did I know she would put a spell on you, Michael. 'Twas her voice that I heard in my dreams. 'Twas that that bewitched you ! (Catches sight of rent net J and speaks with a cry.) Michael! The net! (Holds it up,) The strong net that was all that we had for providing! Tis as useless as seaweed! Tis the price that you paid for meddling with magic ! Michael (bitterly). And for trying to shoulder my work on another! Won't you look at me, mother? (Very tenderly,) 'Tis never again I'll be disregarding the words that you say to me. (A new manliness sounds in Michael's tone as he speaks, and Moira brightens.) Ah, then, look up now, mother; for I've learned for all time that a lad must trust to his own wit, and his own right arm, and that is a fortune entirely ! CURTAIN TROLL MAGIC A Norwegian Folk Play CHARACTERS YOLANDE Olga Dame Sigrid Bergmoss Thorncap mousefoot Troldar Bat's-Eye Shagstone Snake-Lip Owl's-Ear Other Trolls, Dancers, Fruit Carriers, etc. TROLL MAGIC Source The sources of Troll Magic might be said to lie in every legend that has to do with trolls, and these legends are well-nigh countless. As to when these troll legends first originated, it is difficult to determine. Keightly and Thorpe seem to agree that it was in the earliest dawn of the country's lore. Indeed, troll drolls are curiously interwoven with Norse mythology. Trolls were reputed to have flourished in the time of Thor, and to this day many of the smooth wedge- shaped stones seen in the Norwegian mountains or by the fiords are said to have been thrown by Thor at the trolls when their eerie antics displeased him. Other legends place the origin of the trolls at a later date. These legends connect the trolls with the com- ing of Christianity into Norway, describing the trolls as those souls who preferred to remain in heathen dark- ness. It was probably either this, or the fact that they belonged to the old world of Thor and Frea which gave rise to the belief that, above all else, the trolls feared the ringing of a churchbell, a touch of holy water, or the sign of the cross. With the coming of Christianity into Norway, the trolls betook themselves to more or less remote, inaccessible places among the 127 128 TROLL MAGIC hills and forests, reappearing whenever they were bent on mischief. They had underground kingdoms, ruled over by troll leaders (See Ibsen's Dovre King's scenes in ''Peer Gynt"), and revels held above ground in wood or meadow. In many Norwegian folk tales the trolls are represented as being fond of roving the forests and hills, often appearing to startled woodchoppers and herdsmen. Now and again some luckless mortal would be bewitched by them, and in this case his only hope of freedom was to reach a church, or to have a churchbell rung for him. For a mortal to dance with the trolls was of all things the most to be feared. Ere the dance was ended the mortal would be utterly aged, hair whitened, face wrinkled. Those who danced all night with the trolls sometimes disappeared ere cockcrow, passing none knew whither. And since mortal woe was a keen joy to the troll-folk, they were ever on the watch for those whom they might entice to join their revels. Nodding crones whispered of maids who had stolen away to dance with the trolls by moonlight, and who had returned aged and crazed. The troll music was said to be strangely alluring, and their dances, slow at first, grew madder and madder as their spells took deeper hold. In many villages it was the custom to ring the churchbell at stated intervals, so that whatever evil charms the trolls were weaving might be broken ere they were complete. Symbolically the trolls were understood to be the powers of darkness, who could only be conquered by the powers of light. TROLL MAGIC 129 Stage Setting While this play is primarily designed for outdoor use, it can readily be given in the schoolroom. For the schoolroom production the whole play should be read, to give its outdoor atmosphere; but the schoolroom stage should be simply arranged, with green hangings for a background, a green covered screen at the left, to represent the forest from which the trolls emerge. The pool, a mirror; the fallen tree trunk, two small barrels joined together, and covered with green and brown burlap to represent moss and bark. For the blasted tree a pole hat-rack wound with white glazed cotton batting, painted with greenish, brownish streaks. The trolls, if no fantastic costumes are possible, should wear with their everyday clothes peaked brown or gray tissue- paper caps. The troll parts are, of course, played by boys. The magic fruits should be glittering Christmas- tree baubles. The dance music should be played by a violin off stage. When Olga withers, charcoal crows' feet can be quickly drawn about her eyes as she dances away from the audience, and her hair should have a powdered lock brought forward. When she becomes young again, Yolande's sheltering cloak hides the process of wiping off the crows' feet, and putting back the lock of whitened hair. The dance should last for several minutes. The troll music from Grieg's " Peer Gynt Suite " would be appropriate for it, or any light fantastic rythm that suggests the tripping of elfish feet The use of colored lights for the rose of sunset and the 130 TROLL MAGIC purple of twilight would add greatly to the scenic ef- fects if they could be had. Costumes ' YoLANDE. A white woolen skirt with three bands of scarlet ribbon at the hem. A white guimpe. Scarlet peasant bodice. Scarlet cloak. Olga. a pale-gray, full ankle-length skirt. White guimpe. Gray peasant bodice. Gray cloak, hooded. SiGRiD. A black dress similar to Olga's, save that the guimpe is black also. A thick black cloak about her shoulders. A peasant cap, white and flaring. The Trolls. Goblin-like suits of brown and gray, with differentiating touches. Moss fastened to Berg- moss's costume, golden dots to Snake-Lip's; a cap edged with thorns for Thorncap, etc., etc. TROLL MAGIC* Scene : A field bounded on the left by the deep woods that are known as the troll-forest. A tangled path leads out of this forest; but the forest itself is so densely intertwined with vines and branches that be- yond the first few trees that mark its beginning, only a green twilight is visible. At the right the fields supposedly slope toward the village of Thordis. On this side of the field is a small pool bordered with moss and ferns (a mirror sunk in the ground). In the center of the field a blasted tree, twisted and grotesque, suggesting troll revels; near this tree, left center, the fallen trunk of another tree, age-rotted and covered with moss. The time is late afternoon on a summer s day, and the play begins by the entrance of Dame Sigrid from the right, an old woman with a thin loose cloak about her shoulders. In one hand she carries a staff on which she leans heavily, and in the other a basket partly filled with herbs. From time to time she bends stiffly and adds other herbs to those she has already gathered. After a moment she seats herself on the fallen log, resting. * Copyright, 1910, by The Normal Instructor, 131 132 TROLL MAGIC From the depths of the troll-forest, very far in the distance, come the voices of the trolls, chanting: Mortal woe Is troll-folks' treasure, ^ Tears and sorrow give us pleasure, Come and dance with us a measure! SiGRID (nodding to herself). They can dance their measures for all I am caring! Do they think they can draw me to their forest? No! No! Fve known the ways of the trolls too long for that! YoLANDE''s Voice (in distance). Greetings to you, good mother Sigrid! [Yolande and Olga appear in the background, Yolande's hair is in two golden braids; Olgas is dark and heavy. Both carry baskets filled with field fruits, Sigrid (perceiving them), I thought it was trolls I heard, and instead *tis a pretty maiden ! Greetings to you, Yolande, and to you, TROLL MAGIC 133 too, Olga. What brings you so near the edge of the troll-forest ? YOLANDE. Our straying feet, and these (Holds up vine of berries,) Each vine held more than the rest ! And as for flowers — (Takes from her bosom vial filled with perfume.) — such essences have I found as v^^ould de- light the heart of a queen! SiGRID (taking a whiff from vial), A good smell, truly! One that savors of sunshine and blossoms and honey. But for all your thrift and skill, do not stray too far, sweet Yolande. YOLANDE. You are jesting about the trolls, oh, surely! Why, not for years and years have folk seen them about. They say there are too many churchbells ringing. SiGRID. If folks strayed to this spot on moonlit evenings or on the edge of twilight, they'd see trolls a-plenty. Yon- der is the troll-haunted forest, and this is the very spot where they hold their eerie dances. 134 TROLL MAGIC Olga (at the word '' dance " swaying lightly as a flower in the wind, her foot tapping). Dancing. ... It is a word I love! IVe heard, too, that their music is wondrous! SiGRID. Aye, wondrous to the ear, enticing to the foot, and deadly to those who listen; for whoever listens to it and falls a-dancing with the trolls, bitterly will they rue their folly. One measure danced with the troll- folk will turn a maid that is young and fair into a crone that is old and haggard. Wise, indeed, is the maiden who never lifts her eyes when the troll music is playing. Wise, indeed, is the maiden who turns from their wheedling tongues and crafty eyes. Olga (unheeding what passes between Sigrid and Yolande, bending enthralled over pool at right). There's a pool here, Yolande. It must feed the brook that, runs to the fiord. I can see my face in it as in a mirror. Yolande (kneeling by Sigrid, who is seated on log). Is there no way — no way to free a maiden from the troll-spell, once she has' danced with them? TROLL MAGIC 135 SiGRID. But one way, my sweet Yolande. Far in the troll- forest grow wondrous grapes — such grapes as the berg- folk are wont to heap high on golden salvers. To buy these grapes and make wine of them — this alone will free the maiden on whom their spell is cast. Yolande (earnestly). And can any mortal make the wine ? SiGRID. Any mortal who knows no fear. For whoever fears will be mastered by the trolls in the end. And the wine that is made with fear is useless. Yolande. Have any of the village maids danced with the trolls, good Sigrid? SiGRID. Aye, one. A tall girl, Yolande, with braids like to thine. Lena Thurgensen her name was. Yolande. Where is she now, Dame Sigrid? 136 TROLL MAGIC SiGRID. The grass knows, and the sun-warmed earth. YOLANDE (halHearfully). You mean SiGRID. I mean that Lena's voice is no longer heard when the girls come singing across the fields at twilight. And Lena herself no longer bleaches linen on the fiord-shore meadows. YOLANDE (half -terrified J half -fascinated) . Is there naught — naught that the troll-folk fear, good Sigrld? SiGRID. The cross-sign, and the churchbell. These they fear always. That which bears the sign of the cross the trolls may not touch. It would wither them. (Rises,) But we have talked long enough of trolls and their mischief. Look! The day Is turning toward sunset, and here am I a long hobbling distance from home. Mark you this, Yolande. Use your feet merrily while your good days last; for it is weary to be old and to take each step painfully. TROLL MAGIC 137 YOLANDE (prettily). But when folk are old there is often a young shoulder to lean on. Lean you on mine. I will guide you to the road until we see the church spire and the houses of the village. In an hour the churchbell will be ringing. Come, then, Olga. Olga (bending over pool and putting flowers in her hair). I am coming, sister. (To herself,) What harm if I linger a little? The fields are so cool and sweet! (Looks off,) And the air blows so freshly! I won- der • Trolls (in distance; but coming nearer). Mortal woe is troll-folks' treasure. Tears and sorrow give us pleasure. Come and dance with U3 a measure ! [Light fantastic music begins and continues throughout all that folloivs, its appeal grozu- ing stronger and stronger. 138 TROLL MAGIC Olga (rising in fear). That IS their music! Those are their voices! I must hasten. [The trolls dance in from forest, left, OwVs- Ear and Bafs-Eye carry a salver of fruits of strange beauty, such as grow in no mortal orchard, Bergmoss (to Olga). Why hasten, pretty maiden, when we are already here? Olga (clapping hands against her eyes), I will not look at you ! I A ^ MOUSEFOOT. But listen to our music, gentle maiden. You will never hear its like again. Come, tread a measure with us! Olga (to herself). What Sigrid said may have been old wives' folly ! TROLL MAGIC I39 Thorncap. . Hark to the music ! , Olga (swayed). It may be unwise — and yet — and yet Troldar. Come, turn your head, sweet maiden. One look will not matter. And one step danced with us — ^where is the harm in that ? Only one step, sweet maiden. Hark how the music calls you ! Olga I (swayed and bewitched). w One step, then, one measure [^Turns her head. Sees trolls. Laughs mer- rily. Begins to dance, tripping it lightly, the trolls swirling round her. In the mazes of the dance Olga is swirled towards the background, her face turned from the audi- ence. The dancing grows madder and madder. Bergmoss (aside to OwVs-Ear, left foreground). See how she treads the measure ! 140 TROLL MAGIC Owl's-Ear L. (nodding). The spell is working ! [The music ceases abruptly, Olga (turnings dazed, and half-breathless). Has the music stopped? \_As she turns it is evident that the evil spell has fallen upon her. Her face is lined with wrinkles J and her hair is touched with gray ; but she herself is quite unconscious of the change that has taken place, Bergmoss. Aye, and the dancing. Where would you now, pretty maiden? Olga. I would be turning homeward, and much I thank you for the pleasure you have given me. Owl's-Ear (leering). You are more welcome than you know, pretty maiden. TROLL MAGIC 141 Olga \^ ( Hearing pool). Your voice sounds so strange when you say " Pretty maiden " ! (Kneels by pool, sees her reflection, and cries out in anguish,) Oh, what is here? What do I see? Have mercy! Bergmoss (taunting). Look well, look well, pretty maiden ! Olga (falling on her knees to assembled trolls, and stretch- ing out her hands appealingly ) . Mercy! Have mercy! Mad as I was to dance with you, have mercy ! Oh, break your spell and set me free! Oh, change me back to what I was, good troll- folk ! My h eart is breaking ! Shagstone. What care we for human hearts, foolish maiden? MOUSEFOOT (taunting). What will they say in the streets of the village ? 142 TROLL MAGIC Troldar (with grim menace). You need not beat your hands, gentle maiden. They will be quiet soon. Bergmoss (as trolls prepare to depart). Fain were you to tread a measure ; and fain were we that you should dance with us; for to bring a mortal to sorrow is the troll-folks' joy. Farewell to you, fool- ish Olga. Weeping will not smooth your wrinkles! There is no help in tears! [The trolls exit into wood, right, their voices sounding further and further away as they sing. Mortal woe is troll-folks' treasure, Tears and sorrow give us pleasure, Come and dance with us a measure ! [Olga crouches, bowed with grief. After a mo- ment, Yolande, all unsuspecting, comes gaily in from right. Yolande. Olga, why came you not across the fields to meet me ? Why did you [Olga raises her head, and Yolande for a mO' ment is speechless with horror. TROLL MAGIC 143 Olga (leaning against Yolande), 'Twas truth that Sigrid spoke! 'Twas truth, Yolande. With the trolls did I dance, and their spell is on me! Yolande (gathering all her forces). Quick, then, Olga! The more you fear the more the spell will hold you! Turn by the field path till you reach our home. Olga. You^U come with me, Yolande? Yolande. I may not. I may not. If a spell is cast, a spell must be broken. [Olga exits slowly and falteringly by the fields in background, Yolande stands waiting, a noble, erect figure, no trace of fear in her aspect. Troll Voices (coming nearer and nearer). Mortal woe is troll-folks' treasure, Tears and sorrow give us pleasure, Come and tread with us a measure ! l^The trolls enter with music as before. 144 TROLL MAGIC Bergmoss (perceiving Yolande). Another maid to charm! Brothers, fortune is with us! Thorncap (approaching Yolande, who stands with her head turned from them). Turn, turn, pretty maiden! There is music here for your pleasure! Troldar (seeing that she does not turn). This sward was meant for dancing! Yolande (turning and looking at them with feigned hesitancy), I have been warned, and yet — and yet ! Should looking do more harm than listening? I heard your music as you came. Shagstone. The maid who listens to warnings is a foolish maid ! Young feet were made for pleasure ; and next to listen- ing comes dancing, pretty maiden! TROLL MAGIC 145 YOLANDE. The path by which I came was in the sunlight. I am too parched for dancing. [Seats herself on log, center. Bat's-Eye. There^s a pool here, gentle maiden. Cool are its waters to the lips, and grateful. YOLANDE (turning indifferently), A pool fed by some stream I know not. E'en though its water were crystal clear I would not drink, nimble troll-folk. Owl's-Ear. (craftily and hastily). Try our fruits, then, gentle maiden. YOLANDE (with pretended indifference). Have you grapes to ofEer me? Owl's-Ear. Luscious grapes, gentle maiden. 146 TROLL MAGIC YOLANDE (touching them). Are they as pleasing to the taste as to the eye? Nay! Nay! 'Tis only their juice I care for! Take them back again, nimble troll-folk, unless (Draws vial from folds of dress, and makes gesture of extracting juice from grapes.) I can taste the juice of them, so! [^Pours out perfume which the vial contained and, seating herself on mossed log, begins to squeeze juice from grapes, Shagstone (as trolls watch her, somewhat uneasily). What are you doing, pretty maiden ? YOLANDE. Can you not see, nimble troll-folk? Bergmoss (aside to Shagstone), Let her alone. We shall not charm her else. [Yolande rises, Bergmoss. Drink the wine, sweet maid, and then come dance with us. The music calls you. [^The music, which has been sounding softly, now swells louder. TROLL MAGIC 147 YOLANDE. I will neither drink of the vial nor dance with you. [Music grows fainter. Trolls (angrily, beginning to surge about her). Give us the vial! YOLANDE (clearly and courageously). That which is mine I will not return. With the cross-sign I mark it. l^She holds the vial aloft in full view of the trolls and audience. As she makes the sign of the cross on the vial the trolls cower and draw together. But the moment after the sign is made they form a circle again. Bergmoss. Seize her! Seize her! She has not put the cross- sign on herself! She cannot escape us. [General commotion. The trolls instantly seize Yolande, holding her hands so that she can- not make the cross-sign on herself. Yolande shows no sign of fear. 148 TROLL MAGIC Thorncap. What shall we do with her, Bergmoss? Bergmoss (cunningly). Let us bind her to the blasted troll-tree. It is a spot where none pass in the night-time. Let the night mists and the shadows listen to her cries. (To Yolande.) You shall bide here alone, pretty maiden. The night mists are dank in these meadows. How like you the troll-folks' revenge? Owl's-Ear (delightedly). Harken to Bergmoss, wisest of trolls! Come, hasten, hasten ! The maid must be bound ! [Trolls scamper into wood, at left, and return with a rope that looks as if it were fash- ioned of twisted moss, gray and strong, Bergmoss. Test it! Test it! {^Trolls pull rope. It does not give. They smile, grimly delighted. Yolande offers no resistance. They begin to bind her to the tree. TROLL MAGIC I49 Snake-Lip. Who does not dance with the trolls shall pay full dearly ! Bat's-Eye. 'Twere wiser to have danced, pretty maiden. [A churchbell begins tolling in the distance. Bergmoss (pausing with a look of fear). What sound is that? Shagstone (likewise pausing), Sound? Snake-Lip (clapping his hands to his ears). A churchbell! Bergmoss (terrified). It is the ringing of a churchbell! Quick, brothers, to the troll-forest! Swift! Or its sound will blight us! 150 TROLL MAGIC Trolls (in wild panic). The churchbell! The hour for its ringing! A blight! 'Tis the churchbell! [ They snatch up such salvers of fruit as lie near- est them and rush off, helter-skelter, into forest, A moment's pause, during which Yolande struggles to free herself. The rope has been but half-tied, and presently she is loosed, Olga, meantime, has staggeringly crossed the fields again, her face pale with age and fear. She comes forward from' background, Yolande (seeing Olga). Sister! Olga (faintly). The . . . path ... to our home . . . 'tis long and lonely. . . . The spell is working its evil. ... I feared to fall by the field path ... I feared ... I feared. ... TROLL MAGIC 151 YOLANDE (passionately). Lift up your head, my Olga. There is that which shall break evil spells! There is that which shall set troll-magic at nought. (Gives vial.) Drink deeply! [Shields Olga with her cloak, as if against the evening wind. The afternoon has been waning. They stand in the last rose of the sunset. Olga (her voice weak at first, and then growing stronger and stronger). 'Tis a wondrous draught, my sister. It sets my pulse a-stirring! A wondrous potion, surely! At your own peril you gained it! At your own peril you saved me! \_Olga turns, and as Yolande's sheltering cloak is removed, it is seen that Olga is again fair and young. YOLANDE (tenderly). To love is to serve, my sister. Olga. And to be wilful is to bring grief! Bitterly have I learned it. I see now that those who have traveled the road before us are wiser than we! 152 , TROLL MAGIC YOLANDE. Much have I fathomed, too, my Olga. To those who strive w^Ithout fear, all things are possible. Put back your hood ! \_Olga puts back the hood of the cloak she is wearing, Olga (softly touching her own hair). The gray has gone, Yolande ! The spell is broken ! [The rose of sunset has faded to the gray of twilight. Yolande (as they stand a moment with faces upraised). And yonder in the heavens a star is shining — a glim- mering lamp to guide our footsteps. Come, sister . . . home! [Through the gathering dusk they cross the fields and disappear in the background. The evening falls. The play ends. THE THREE WISHES (Trois Souhaits) A French Folk Play CHARACTERS ANDRf ReNAUD LiZETTE^ his wife The Stranger THE THREE WISHES Source " The Three Wishes " (Perrault's version) is one of the best known of all French folk tales. Other ver- sions of the same story exist in Germany, Sweden, and England. Stage Setting The setting for the schoolroom stage is very simple. The hearth, a box covered with gray canvas or heavy gray wallpaper bulked to represent stone, and marked with black and white chalk. Two red electric bulbs placed in this improvised hearth will give a splendid fire-glow effect. If these cannot be had, red and yel- low tissue paper, with a glint of tinsel, will serve. The background and sides of the room can be formed by screens covered with sacking or brown burlap. Fagots should be placed by the fire. The table and chairs can be supplied from the ordinary schoolroom furniture. Costumes ANDRf Renaud. a white soft shirt, with full sleeves somewhat resembling what are known as 155 156 THE THREE WISHES " bishop sleeves/* Full dark breeches. A vest of a dark color, with tarnished buttons. Sabots. LiZETTE. Dark-blue w^oolen skirt, ankle length. A black velvet peasant bodice. White chemisette. Cream-colored apron, with small green and scarlet bor- der. Sabots. (Shoes covered with heavy wrapping- paper, shaped.) The Stranger. Leaf-brown suit, with a long brown cloak, preferably lined in scarlet. Scarlet cap. THE THREE WISHES* Scene: A Breton kitchen, the home of Andre Renaud and Lizette, A cobbled hearthstone at left. A shelf above it with iron candlesticks, and some bits of pewter ware. An iron pot simmers on the fire. In the background a door opening on the road with- out. On each side of the door small windows, cur- tained in chintz. In the center of the room a plain pine table. On each side of the table two wooden chairs, very quaint in shape. Against the right wall a spinning-wheel, a cupboard, and another chair. The room has an air of neatness and plain-living. At the rise of the curtain Lizette is lighting a candle which she places on the table. Its bluish flame sends a flickering shadow on one side of her white cap; while the other side of her cap catches a rosy reflection from the glow of the fire, Lizette's somewhat shrewish face is half -hidden as she bends. She wears a laced peasant bodice, woolen skirt, and wooden shoes, Andre is poking the fire. He is costumed in the loose shirt, full breeches, and sabots of a man of his class. * Copyright, 1910, by The Churchman, 15? 158 THE THREE WISHES The tableau is held for an instant after the curtain rises, so that the effect it presents is like a Boutet de Monvel painting. LiZETTE (shielding her candle with her hand). Heaven save us, w^hat a draught there is! I can scarcely strike a light ! Draw the curtains fast, Andre ! Andr^ (crossing to window). Hark to the wind, Lizette! (Looks out,) You should see the leaves! They are dancing across the ground like so many children around a Fairy Tree. And, in spite of the gusts, there's not a cloud in the sky, and the road lies white and lonely in the moon- light. Lizette (going to and fro from cupboard with, cups, plates, bread-platter, black bread, cheese, etc., which she places on the table). And lonely and white it will be only a few v/eeks hence when the snow is at our very doors, and we with only enough wood to keep the hearth a-blaze. I wish we had such chimney-logs as they burn in the great chateau on the hill. THE T^REE WISHES I59 Andr^ (grumbling). Little good that will do us when we have nothing to roast on them. We've no fat fowls to be cooking every day, nor sweetbreads nor wines to be tempting our palates. LiZETTE ( complainingly ) , I wish we lived in a great house, Andre. Andr]^. Or could ride in a coach like the viscount and his lady. LiZETTE (with a magnificent gesture). Up the road to our chateau! Often I picture it! Ah, how I wish that it were true! Such sights as would draw all the neighbors! (JVith emphasis,) Rose-gardens ! Pasties 1 Terraces! Andr^. LiZETTE. i6o THE THREE WISHES ANDRjg. Truffles! LiZETTE. I wish [The wind without gives a mocking, derisive shriek* Lizette starts. ANDRf. It IS only the wind, Lizette. Lizette. Day of my life, but it makes me shiver! And yet you say it is a clear night, Andre ? ANDRf. Of a crystal clearness, Lizette. Clear as White Magic. Lizette (with a sniff). White Magic, indeed ! Andr^. Nay, now, Lizette, those words are ill-spoken. Does not Mammet Boison declare that on Autumn nights en- THE THREE WISHES i6i chantments walk abroad, and that shadows are not the only things astir beneath the moon's light ? LiZETTE. Old wives' folly, Andre. Old wives' folly. Those who sit long by the hearthstone begin to tell tales and dream dreams! (A knock on the door without.) There now, Andre, there's some village gossip, FU be bound. Open the door. It may be either Jacques or Frangois. The Stranger (entering as Andre lifts the latch, garbed in leaf -brown, with a scarlet cap and swirling brown cloak that suggests a spirit of Fall), Neither, good madam. You have quite mistaken. LiZETTE (hospitably). Well, then, Monsieur, the welcome that we would have given to Jacques or Frangois is given to you in- stead. Will you not sup with us? The Stranger (crossing to hearth), I thank you, no. I have but little time to stay. I will but warm my hands and be going. i62 THE THREE WISHES AndrjI. Are you strange to these parts, Monsieur ? LiZETTE (aside). Be still, Andre! He may know these parts as well as you ! The Stranger. I am as strange to them as the wind that blows to you from across the world, and as familiar with them as the smoke that rises from your chimney. [As he speaks Lizette looks at htm in doubt as to how to take his words, a doubt which slowly gives place to belief and amazement. Andr^. Have you relatives hereabout. Monsieur? The Stranger. Aye, truly. I am near kin to the Autumn leaves, and first cousin to the mists of evening. Andre. The saints preserve us! [Lizette still stares. I THE THREE WISHES 163 The Stranger. Often have I passed down the road by your 'door, tand always have I heard you wishing, wishing. And since it is the way with wishes that sooner or later they must be fulfilled, I am come to make you a gift. And as sign and symbol that what I say is true, I bring you a branch from a Fairy Tree. (Places branch with Autumn leaves on shelf above hearthstone, and then moves toward the door, Lizette in right foreground, and Andre in left foreground, take a step in the stranger s direction, their eyes never leaving his,) Three wishes will I give you, and they will all come true, so look well how you do your wishing! \^He pauses by the door with arm upraised, the cloak falling back from it fantastically. The wind shrieks without, the door claps to again, and he is gone. For a moment Andre and Lizette stare at the place where the Stranger has been standing; then they glance at each other, and Lizette, with a toss of the head, recovers from her first stupor of surprise, Lizette. Look well to the wishing, indeed ! Are we likely to forget it ? Come, draw up your chair, Andre. We can talk while we eat. i64 THE THREE WISHES Andre. We did not even stop to thank him, Lizette, or to bid him good speed on his journey. [They take their seats at table, but are much too excited to think of eating, LiZETTB. Well, such news is enough to make one forget all manners. Think of it, Andre. Three wishes ! What a stir well make among the neighbors! Marie Michaud will be green with envy. Think of all that we shall own. ANDRf: (fired by visions of splendor). We'll have a coach to ride in, Lizette. Lizette. And ril have a robe of satin. Andre. A suit of velvet 'for me. Knee-breeches. Silver buckles. [He rises; his supper lies forgotten. I THE THREE WISHES 165 LiZETTE (also rises J forgetting her supper), A necklace to go with my satins! A great house! Servants. A driveway. Such sights as will set folk a-staring. Picture it, Andre. Such splendor! O, it is wonderful, wonderful ! Andr^ (nodding). There's never been anything like it! LiZETTE. Our pockets golden-lined. It is astounding, amaz- ing! Andr^ (by hearthstone, stirring fire under pot). And is it not of a drollness to think that to-morrow we shall be so rich, while to-night we sit here by the embers? Ah, how I wish there was a fine brown pudding in that pot, and then \^A moment's stupefaction, Andre and Lizette look at each other. LiZETTE (breaking out wildly), Andre ! Andre ! A thousand pests upon you ! You have used up one of our fine wishes, and what have i66 THE THREE WISHES you got for it? We might have been rich with that wish, or young, or long-lived, or a thousand other things, and now you have ruined it, ruined it! Andr^ (his back to the audience, peering into pot, his hands apparently shielding his eyes)., Well, Fve had my wish, and you can have the other two. At least there is a pudding, Lizette. LiZETTE (outraged). A pudding — a pudding! Ah, I could break my heart to see you so careless and stupid, staring into that pot as if it contained gold! Could you not think f Could you not see where your folly was leading you ? Ill-luck go with you and your pudding! I wish it would stick to your nose and then you'd remember to Oh ! ! (Shrieks, as Andre with a cry raises his head, the pud- ding firmly attached to his nose,) Andre! Andre! The saints have mercy ! What will become of us now ? Andre (in a muffled voice). Cut it! Cut it! THE THREE WISHES 167 LiZETTE (seizing knife from table, and vainly trying to do as he desires), I cannot! I cannot! Andre. Pull it, Lizette! LiZETTE. It will not cut! It will not pull! Andre (imploring). Try again, Lizette. Lizette (doing everything in her power and talking passion- ately). Day of my heart! I can do nothing! Nothing! A thousand sorrows on the hour the Stranger came to us! What will the neighbors say when they see you? Oh, we shall be a laughing-stock! Even Marie will jeer at us! Oh, Andre, Andre, the nose seems to grow longer every moment ! Andre. Wish it off, then, Lizette. Wish it off. I gave you the other wishes, and now one word will set me free. i68 THE THREE WISHES LiZETTE. I Day of my life, do you think me crazed? Do you think I will waste the last wish of all ? i Andre. Lizette, I implore you! Lizette. Never ! Andre. Lizette, I beseech you! Lizette. Never ! Andre. It was you who wished it on, Lizette. Lizette. It was you, Andre, who called the pudding into the pot, not I. Andre. That is true, Lizette. I cannot deny it. And yet one wish THE THREE V/ISHES 169 LiZETTE. With that one wish we shall be rich and happy! Andre. Happy! WeVe far from rich, Lizette, it is true; yet now that I think on it, weVe always had enough. Lizette (greedily). And now well have nmore ! Andre. Harken, Lizette! What's that? A sound? I thought I heard somebody tapping. Lizette (listening). A footstep? Neighbors? There again there's tap- ping. (Andre starts for the door. Lizette with a look of horror darts to him, utterly losing her head at the thought of the prying folk who may be without,) Andre! Andre! Back! Back! I spoke in jest. Oh, not for all the riches in the world would I have the neighbors laugh at you! Oh, thank the saints there is one w^ish left, and with that wish I wish that the pudding would go! (The pudding drops off; Lizette 170 THE THREE WISHES opens the door,) Why, there's not a soul in sight! 'Twas nought but the Autumn wind a-rattling at the latch. Andre (with instant remorse), Lizette, Lizqtte, you have wasted your wishes! LiZETTE (wiping her eyes on her apron). Wasted, indeed! Could you ride in a coach with a nose like that, or sit at a Lord Mayor's banquet? Andre. Banquet, Lizette! Never speak to me of banquets! No, nor of puddings, be they great or small. My mind will never rest till I see this one is ashes. [Pops it into fire, Lizette. That's it, Andre. Make a good riddance. Andre (at hearthstone). And the branch of the Fairy Tree, Lizette? What shall we do with it ? THE THREE WISHES 171 LiZETTE. If I were you, Andre, I would burn it, and that right quickly. I've had enough of magic for one evening. Andre (Uill holding branch). Nay, look, Lizette, at the leaves of the Fairy Tree. See, one of them unrolls, and there is something written on it! [Leaf unrolls, a kind of scarlet parchment, Lizette (holding candle). Read it, Andre. You are a keener scholar than I. Andre (reads), " Andre and Lizette, beware of too many wishes. It is better to have enough of anything than too much.'' Lizette. That must be the Stranger's message to us, Andre. Andre. To us and no other. [Puts branch into fire. 172 THE THREE WISHES LiZETTB (putting down candle). The Stranger spoke truth, Andre. Andre (rubbing his nose reflectively). He did, indeed, Lizette. LiZETTE. Let's eat our black bread and be thankful ! \^They take their places at the table as the cur* tain falls. A BREWING OF BRAINS A Lincolnshire Folk Play CHARACTERS The Wise Woman of the Fells DURLOCK Elsbeth A BREWING OF BRAINS Source " A Brewing of Brains '' is adapted from one of the best known folk tales of the Lincolnshire Fells. In its story form it bears the title of '' A Pottle o' Brains/' Stage Setting As in the other plays, the plainest of school furniture can be used for this interior. Screens covered with brown burlap can form the right and left walls and background. A box hearthstone, with fireglow of red electric bulbs, or scarlet and yellow tissue paper flames. A spinning-wheel fashioned of two small wooden wagon wheels fastened to a wooden frame. A painted screen for the scene beyond the threshold. The dried fruits can be easily fashioned of tissue or crape paper. Costumes The Wise Woman of the Fells. A black robe, and black cloak. A black hood-cap. Durlock. Dark knee-breeches. Soft white shirt, with full sleeves. Elsbeth. a simply-made dress of pale-blue cham- bray, ankle-length, elbow-sleeved, and with crossed white kerchief. 175 A BREWING OF BRAINS* Scene: The room of the Wise Woman of the Fells, a Lincolnshire kitchen. In the background a door open- ing on the road. Beyond the door a stretch of green and a glimpse of blue sky. At the left a hearthstone. On the embers a caldron, brewing. On the shelf above the hearth some strings of dried fruit, bunches of savory herbs, and an earthen- ware dish or so. At the right a bench along the wall. At the rise of the curtain the Wise Woman is seated by the hearthstone, spinning. Her hair is gray, her face lined and keen. She wears a dark woolen robe, and over her head a hoodlike cap. On the back of her chair rests a dark cloak, and near her on the floor a shears, and a small bag for gathering herbs* The time is mid- afternoon in Spring, A moment after the curtains rise Durlock comes to the outside door. He is a tall honest-faced lad, and his speech is as direct as his glance. Durlock. Goode'en to you, Mistress. •Printed by arrangement with Popular Educator, 177 178 A BREWING OF BRAINS The Wise Woman. Goode'en to yourself, young Durlock. DURLOCK (entering). How did you know my name? The Wise Woman. How do I know the names of the rushwort and the thornbush? Do I not often see you standing at the door o' the little house where you live alone ? And on shadowy nights when the moon is white and the air is full o* the sounds o' Spring, do I not hear you go whistling down the roadway? Durlock (simply). Then mayhappen you know what brings me? The Wise Woman. Mayhappen I do. Folk do not call me the Wise Woman for nothing. Still, my lips are not thy lips, and those that need must ask. Durlock. *Tis to beg your counsel I am come. A BREWING OF BRAINS 179 The Wise Woman. Aye. r DURLOCK (embarrassed). And — and to buy somewhat from you, also. The Wise Woman. Aye. DuRLOCK (very earnestly), 'Tis brains I am needing, Mistress. The Wise Woman, Brains! DuRLOCK (still more earnestly). Have you none for sale? The Wise Woman (sharply). Calf's brains, or sheep's brains? i8o A BREWING OF BRAINS DURLOCK. Nay, Mistress, I mean it in no jest. 'Tis real true brains I would have! The Wise Woman (still sharply). Do you think I keep them in a bag, or strung from the beams like dried fruit? DURLOCK. Nay, Mistress, 'tis brains of my own I would have, and neighbors tell me that at the hearth of the Wise Woman o' the Fells a lad may find them. (Eagerly,) Have you none for sale? The Wise Woman. That depends on the kind you would buy. If it's soldier's brains, or scholar's brains, or King's brains you're wanting, I've none for you. But if it's plain everyday brains DuRLOCK (greatly relieved). That's the kind, good Mistress! The Wise Woman. Well, then, maylike, you'll gain them here, if you'll gain them at all. But first tell me why you think A BREWING OF BRAINS i8i you're needing them. If you've thriven without them all these years, 'tis strange to be wanting them now. [ ' DURLOCK (quite simply). The older I grow, good Mistress, the more I feel the lack. At first it was about the sheep that I must learn. And then it was about the plowing and seed- ing. And now — and now \^Looks at her beseechingly. The Wise Woman (glancing at him keenly). How do you know you are stupid ? DuRLOCK (sitting on bench at right), Jan the miller, and Shadrack the blacksmith, they have told me so. And when I began to study what best I could do about it, they told me to be seeking counsel here. The Wise Woman. Why come they not themselves ? i82 A BREWING OF BRAINS DURLOCK (quite simply and without malice). Because they need no further wit, good Mistress. They are wise enough already. None can teach them more. The Wise Woman (to herself). There is a name for that kind of wisdom! DuRLOCK. What say you, Mistress? The Wise Woman. Nought, lad, that has to do with me or ye. Is your land as thriving as that of Jan the miller? DuRLOCK (nodding). Truly, good Mistress. The Wise Woman. And IS not your roof as stoutly thatched as that of Shadrack ? A BREWING OF BRAINS 183 DURLOCK (plainly puzzled). Aye, that it is. The Wise Woman. Are not your flocks well-fleeced? DuRLOCK (nodding). Well-fleeced and fat. But, Mistress, my wits are poor and I would mend them. I am slow to think and heavy. The Wise Woman. Then FU get brains for you, mayhappen. But my price of brains is to answer me this: (Leans forward impressively.) What is it that is round and shining and is not gold? What is it that runs without feet? What is loveliest in the world, and what is luckiest? These, while I leave ye! There are still more herbs to be gathered — (Picks up shears and herb bag.) — for a lass comes at sunset for a posset for her grandam. [^Exit Wise Woman. Durlockj who had risen while she made her exit, now seats himself again on bench, right. i84 A BREWING OF BRAINS DURLOCK (to himself). What is it that is shining and is not gold ? What is it that runs without feet Nay! Nay! The Wise Woman has me there! Three riddles! And each one seems harder than the other. What — is — it — that — is — round — and — shining — and — is — not — gold l^SitSj head in hands, deeply thinking, Elsbeth (singing in the distance, her voice growing nearer and nearer. Air: ''Sally in Our Alley"), When soft winds blow and brooklets run And blossoms are a-swaying, And thatched roofs glisten in the sun, O that's the time for Maying! O some can sing of kindling blaze And Winter gusts a-playing; But give to me the hedgerow ways — - Heigho! Heigho for Maying! \^A step in the doorway, Durlock looks up, Elsbeth stands on the threshold, a pretty lass with a face like a hawthorn blossom. A BREWING OF BRAINS 185 DURLOCK (rising). Goode'en to you, lass! Elsbeth (prettily). Goode'en to yourself. Is the Wise Woman within ? DuRLOCK. She'll be soon returning Elsbeth (leaning against door). Mayhappen, then, I'll wait. DuRLOCK (awkwardly). H — ^have you come to buy brains, lass? Elsbeth (laughing). Nay, Fve come to fetch a posset for my grandam. I wish that when she sits at her door her old eyes could have so fine a scene as this ! (Looks with- i86 A BREWING OF BRAINS out.) The sun all glorious and the river smiling in the light. (Seeing Durlock standing in embarrassed silence,) It would be easier talking if I knew your name. My own is Elsbeth. Durlock. And mine is Durlock. Elsbeth (half-shyly). IVe often seen you passing down the road. Durlock. And IVe watched you spinning by your doorway. (Gazing at her.) Only — only it seems as if I never saw you till now! Why, your hair is like the brown of oak-tree branches, and your eyes like the star-flowers that look at one in the Springtime! Elsbeth. Was it speeches like that you came to buy of the Wise Woman? Durlock (bluntly). Nay, lass. *Twas brains I was to gain here. *Tis stupid I am, and none know it better than I. A BREWING OF BRAINS 187 Elsbeth. You are not stupid to me, Durlocfc. And as for your brains — has the Wise Woman promised to get them for you? DURLOCK. Aye, lass, so she says, if I can but answer her riddles. Nay, now I think on it, mayhappen you'll help me! (Joins Elsbeth at doorway,) What is it that's round and shining and is not gold ? (Elsbeth points upward.) True, lass, true! And what is it that runs without feet? (Elsbeth points at something beyond the meadows,) Nay, as I live, by your help I have guessed that riddle also! And now for the other two ! What is it that's The Wise Woman (without). Goode'en to you, lass. . . [Durlock and Elsbeth stand aside, and the Wise Woman enters. Elsbeth (with a courtesy). Goode'en to you, Mistress. The Wise Woman. Yonder is the posset for your grandam. (Keenly, to Durlock,) And now, lad, for the brains you're. after i88 A BREWING OF BRAINS having! What is it that's round and shining and is not gold? DURLOCK (radiantly). The sun ! The Wise Woman (glancing at Elsbethj and then nodding to herself as if well pleased). What is it that runs without feet? DuRLOCK. Surely, the river, Mistress. The Wise Woman. And what's loveliest in the world ? DuRLOCK (with inspired candor). Why, Mistress, I can think of nothing lovelier than Elsbeth, yonder. The Wise Woman (smiling as if pleased). And what's luckiest? I A BREWING OF BRAINS 189 DURLOCK V (still looking at Elsbeth). Myself — if Elsbeth will have me! [Elsbeth comes forward and slips her hand into his with a charming grace. The Wise Woman. See you now, lad, you are likely to fare better than either Jan or Shadrack ; for both have asked her in vain ! DuRLOCK. But the brains I would gain from you. Mistress — you promised me brains ! The Wise Woman. Lad ! Lad ! Can you not see that you already have them? Would you have more than a clever wife? (Smiles as the subtlety of her stroke dawns on Dur- lock,) Nay, then, listen! There is only one receipt for brains, and it is made of equal parts of humbleness and seeking; for to know yourself stupid, and to be willing to learn, is to run on the highroad to Wisdom. (Turns to her spinning,) And now, goode'en to ye both! [Durlock and Elsbeth exit through the door in background. The Wise Woman bend& above her spinning with a luminous smile. CURTAIN SIEGFRIED A German Folk Play CHARACTERS Siegfried WOTAN C' The Wanderer") MiMi^ a dwarf The Voice of the Forest Erda^ the Earth Goddess, who speaks the Prologue SIEGFRIED Source The German folk-epic of the " Nibelungen Lied," of which Siegfried is the hero, is too well known to need repetition here. As the alliterative verse of the orig- inal is almost impossible to give in its full spirit, a rythmic prose is substituted, based on the meters of the '' Nibelungen Lied's " best known translator, Alfred Forman. Stage Setting The scene is adapted with a view to the difficulties of a small stage, and for this reason the dragon Fafner does not actually appear, and the bird-voice which gave w^arning to Siegfried is metamorphosed into the Voice of the Wood, an incarnation of the soul of the forest speaking directly to Siegfried. For this reason, too, the forest-forge scene, and the scene of the Neidhole or dragon's cave, have been welded into one, and much that is in Wagner's " Siegfried " has of necessity been left out. The scene is meant to be simply a fragment of Siegfried's youth; but much of the symbolism of the Ring has been retained. While the play is primarily designed for an out-of- 193 194 SIEGFRIED door production, with rustle of leaves, and sunlight a-slant on the sward, it can be given In the schoolroom with little trouble. Screens covered with green burlap, or green cambric, form the sides and background. To these screens swinging vines, real or made of tissue paper, are securely fastened. A green floor-cloth. A dozen sheets of tissue paper cut in ribbons or leaf- shapes and strewn underfoot for grass and leaves. The rocks are brown cambric daubed with moss green; black; gray. They may be upbuilt over an underpin- ning of small barrels or boxes. Real lichen can be fastened to them if it is to be had. The cave of the dragon will be shaped of two clothes-horses and daubed as previously described. The mouth of the cave should be hidden by swinging vines and the interior should be quite dark. The tree-trunk which contains the dryad- like Voice of the Wood should be shaped of two bar- rel-halves fastened one above another so that they make a tall open hollow. This should be securely propped on the side furthest from the audience. The barrel should be covered with sacking or brown burlap. On this paint or paste green streaks for moss, and fasten on lichen of gray paper. Also small branches, real or artificial. Across the barrel tree-trunk a curtain of brown netting through which the dryad-like figure can be seen. When the Voice of the Forest begins to speak, this curtain is deftly pulled aside. The forge is a box painted black, with a shaped black cardboard top. On this a bit of metal that will ring when it is struck. The forge tools are easy to imitate or procure. The SIEGFRIED 195 tarn-helm (a helmet) may be shaped of cardboard and covered with silver paper. The music, of which violin and piano arrangements can be had, should be played off stage. Costumes Siegfried. White stockings to simulate bare feet. A robe of skins that comes to a little below the knee, leaving his arms and neck bare. A silver chain at his waist, with a hunting-horn slung to it. MiMi. A black goblinesque suit. A peaked-crown cap. Pointed shoes. Brown belt. His nose is red- dened, his eyebrows heavily darkened, and wrinkles are drawn on his brow. WoTAN. A long robe of dull gray, resembling those worn by the early Saxons, falling in straight folds from neck to hem. His arms and neck are bare. A long traveler's cloak whose hood half-hides his face. A tall staff in his hand. If this cannot be arranged for, draperies of any solid color will givG the same effect. Erda^ the Earth Goddess. A white robe of canton flannel, soft and full, falling in Greek lines to the floor. About her head a crown of silver thickly studded with silver beads. Straight silver tinsel (on no account the crinkly kind), such as is seen on Christmas trees, should glimmer about her robe. Since Erda rises from the earth, her robe should represent the frost that is in the ground. The Voice of the Forest. Pale-green net robe 196 . SIEGFRIED for this dryad-IIke creature, with an under-robe of pale- green cambric. (Or pale-green cheesecloth, if the rest cannot be had.) Gauzy green floating sleeves that half- hide her arms, and seem to melt into the tree itself. Tiny green leaves and branches fastened hamadryad- like to her fingers. PROLOGUE (Spoken by Erda, the Earth Goddess) Mortals, within this space you shall behold A wondrous forest, legendary, old. Upon one hand a forge-fire, burning bright, Where the dwarf Mimi plies his trade with might; Upon the other, where dark shadows creep, The dragon Fafner lies encoiled in sleep. Ever he guards a hoard of gold, a ring, A helmet that would make its wearer king. By wiles and cunning came these things to him, Yet none can wrest them from his cavern dim Save one who never knew a touch of fear. Therefore, though Mimi forges year by year At many swords, hoping to gain the gold. His very cowardice blows the forge-fire cold. One sword he has that wondrous deeds can do. Broken it lies and must be forged a-new. Nothung its name — a steel-blue shining sword With which the dwarf still hopes to reach the hoard. For gold and gold and gold is all his thought ; For this his strength is spent, his swords are wrought. Gold ! To guard gold the dragon ever sleeps ! Gold ! To gain gold the dwarf his forge-fire keeps. 197 198 SIEGFRIED Dragon and dwarf! Children of darkness, they! While Siegfried is as radiant as the day. Young Siegfried, forest-born and forest-bred, And by the wily Mimi nurtured And kept in ignorance of all that lies Beyond the edge of forest mysteries, So that his strength to Mimi's plans be lent To test the swords that Mimi's skill has bent. This is the tangled web the Norns have spun. How Siegfried valiantly his freedom won This scene shall show : Wotan shall tread the wold At whose spear-touch are mighty thunders rolled. Lord of the lightning, god of stormy skies, He treads the earth, benignant, stately, wise. And clear as silver rain there shall be heard The Forest Voice : sweet as the note of bird It mingles with the green leaves whispering. The wind's soft lilt, the rush of woodland Spring. See, then, a story of enchantment old, A forge, a cave, a Nibelung's bright gold ! SIEGFRIED* Scene: A deep forest. Time: The Spring, At the left foreground a forge with tools, a sword un- mended, a bellows, a melting-pot, etc., etc. Behind it a rocky ledge, on which rest a sword, a goblet, etc. Beneath this ledge a natural opening in the rock, used as an oven by Mimi, The forge-fire is glowing; but the oven-fire nearly spent. At the left towards the background a tree whose trunk is partly open. In it, half-veiled by brownish gauze, stands a dryad-like creature robed in palest green, and with unbound tresses, and arms extended as if they were part of the tree, half-covered in brown. This figure stands motionless, and is not observed by Mimi, She is as mute as she is motionless. At the right of the stage, like a deep fissure in the rocks, the opening of the dragon s cave, partly hidden by long sivinging vines. At the rise of the curtain Mimi is, working at the forge. From time to time he pauses, looking discon- tentedly at the pieces of the sword, Nothung, which he holds in his hand. The hilt is heavy and golden; a-gleam with gems, * Printed by arrangement with The Normal Instructor, 199 200 SIEGFRIED MiMI. Toil without guerdon! Wearisome task! The splendldest sword that ever I forge the hero-youth easily smiteth in twain. Yet Nothung's bits were he slow to rend — could I but splice the cursed splinters that all my mind will not teach me to weld. (Looks towards the Neidhole, or dragon s cave,) Fafner the dragon then would I conquer — he who guards the Nibelung gold. The ring and the tarn-helm! These would I own! The gold I must have. With this sword must I reach it — with Nothung the sword. Siegfried (in distance). Hoya! Hoya! MiMI (with crafty look). 'Tis Siegfried! He comes! This sword, his by right, he shall never obtain till I find that my hand can- not forge it. [Hides sword in cleft of rockj and begins to hammer on another one. Siegfried (entering buoyantly, clad in rough skins), Hoya! Hoya! Quick with the forging! Speed with the sword ! I SIEGFRIED 201 MiMI. The sword well have I set. For a sharper thou canst not wish. Siegfried. What is a shining weapon to me if weakness shames its steel? (Snaps sword across his knee.) Why, 'tis a toy, and thou callest it sword! MiMI (soothingly). Will food be more welcome? I'll fetch thee broth I have made! l^Turns to go towards back of stage. Siegfried (frowning: it is evident that he has been pondering his wrongs in the forest). Away with thy broth and thy brewing! MiMI (coming forward). Is this the wage for my work? Siegfried (turning). What wages, then, MIml, have I? There at the forge do I serve thee. (Indicates broken sword.) Yet 202 . SIEGFRIED when I ask of thee wisdom, what do I get in reply? Ever thou thwartest me! Ever thou keepest me here from the world. Where is my father? Where is my mother? How comes it that I am dwelling alone here with thee in the forest? For that thou art no kin, well I fathom. Thy hands are too creeping and clutch- ing. The shine of the ore in the rock maketh thy small eyes to glisten. No kin art thou, Mimi, to me. My mother, say! And my father? Speak, ere I tear the words from thee! Mimi (gasping). Thy hands from my throat if thou'st hear! (Sieg- fried releases him,) Thou hast neither father nor mother. Thy mother died here in the forest. Thy father — who he was I know not. Siegfried (his hands on the dwarfs shoulders, as he looks at him steadily). Mostly thou speakest untruly. But this, by thy trembling, is truth. (Turns away. Speaks as to him- self,) Brave must have been my tall father. Ten- der and sweet my dear mother. Here in my heart do I feel it. (Pacing slowly up and down,) Forest-born am I and lonely — and yet I will strive as beseemeth a son who had hero for father ; whose mother was gentle and tender. SIEGFRIED ' ao3 MiMI (fawning). You were a babe in this forest. Well did I serve you and shield you. Siegfried (scornfully). That I in turn might give service! Mimi gives nothing for nothing! MiMI. What words are these, Siegfried? Siegfried. You know full well that you cheat me. You keep me in ignorance here so that I may not stray further. Mimi (cringing and shrinking). Never before have you spoken Siegfried. Never before would you listen. You would have kept me your chattel. (With face for a moment up- lifted, as if in remembrance of the hours he has spent roaming the wood, alone save for his own thoughts.) 204 SIEGFRIED But in the wood one gains wisdom. In me to-day there up-blazes a fire that would burn you to cinders, did you but try to oppose me! MiMI (to shield himself , and divert Siegfried's thoughts). Suppose, Siegfried, that I were your kinsfellow? Siegfried. Kinsfellow? You? With your cringing? (Turn- ing away,) And you are treacherous, cruel. You tor- ture the things of the forest. All that is weaker than you are. You care not. You spare not. No hero- blood beats in your pulses. A hero would shield what was ^yeaker. This do I know — though I know not how hath come to me this knowledge. I am done, now, Mimi, with bondage. Now will I hence from the forest to the world that lieth before me. [Turns lightly towards right background. MiMI (craftily). Without sword? Without helmet? (Siegfried pauses; Mimi gives a wily smile.) I tell you this out of kindness. I SIEGFRIED 205 Siegfried (doubtfully). So you can keep me forest-bound. (Pauses, uncer- tain.) If you have not spoken truly ! Long and long have you foiled me. (Turns suddenly on Mimu) I trust no tale that I hear. I trust the sight that I see. Give me a sign. A token. MiMI (Seeing that unless something far out of the ordinary is done he will lose his hold on the lad, takes from its hiding-place the pieces and splinters of Not hung). The sword, then, that thy mother left thee. Dying here in the forest, she left thee thy father's sw^ord. [Gives it to Siegfried reluctantly. Siegfried (forgetting to be angry at Mimi in his deep joy over his new possession). My father's sword! The sword of an unknown father ! So gain I the sword that I need. [With the receiving of the sword a subtle change passes over Siegfried. He no longer receives orders, but begins to give them. 2o6 , SIEGFRIED Siegfried (to Mimi). Quickly now, shalt thou weld it. I come for it ere the twilight. (Turns towards background.) Now do I wander free again! The forest my home, the wood my roof-tree. The drifting leaves are my hearth ! Like the wind of the wood, I am free ! Like the wind of the wood I can go! [ExitSj running blithely. Mimi (distractedly calling after him). Siegfried! Siegfried! (To himself, despairingly.) Hence he storms, and here I stay! How shall I forge me the sword! \_Looks at Nothung with great discouragement. The Wanderer (entering from left, towards background). Smith over-cunning, hail! Will you give welcome to a guest who is weary? Mimi (looks at The Wanderer sullenly, and then, being rather overawed at his majestic mien, goes to the oven in cleft at left, and returns with a rude earthen goblet, which he took from ledge above cleft; also a bowl of broth. He gives the bowl to the Wanderer). Who fares so far in the forest? SIEGFRIED 207 The Wanderer (drinking broth). Wanderer they call me in the world, and where I go I am welcome. (Mimi grudgingly gives goblet. He is quite evidently afraid not to be generous,) Giants are meek to me. All harken to him whose hand upholds the spear. [He strikes his spear on the ground. Thunder rolls in the distance. MiMI (in a terrified J shaken whisper). Wotan ! [Wotan bows his head. Again the spear touches the ground. Again the thunder rolls in the distance, MiMI (awed). None but Wotan art thou! Lord of the thunders! The Wanderer. Thou hast guessed rightly. Mimi (more boldly, seeing that no harm has come from the visit of his illustrious guest). Answer me, Wotan. Now thou hast sat at my hearthstone, now thou hast drunk of my goblet — an- 268 SIEGFRIED swer me ! How can this Nothung, how can this great sword be welded? With it would I slay a dragon. Yet forge It I cannot. Magic the sword is! Can a hand forge it? The Wanderer. A hand that has never known fear. That can weld Nothung a-new. MiMI (to himself), A hand that hath never known fear [He drops the hilt of the sword and shakes his head hopelessly. The Wanderer (continuing gravely). Sure IS the weapon a man welds for himself. He who weldeth his weapon and knoweth no fear, he shall conquer whatever shall come In his path. But he who Is trembling and cringing, nought shall he conquer. Fit food for dragons is he. He would be slain by a dragon. (The Wanderer rises majestically,) For thy goblet, my thanks! [Returns it to Mimi, and then exits left back- ground, the way he came, the thunder peal- ing as his spear strikes the earth, its sound SIEGFRIED 209 growing fainter and fainter as he goes further away, till it is a mere ghost of a rumble. Mimi, who has listened to Wotans words with dawning fear, now looks about him tremblingly from left to right, and, shaken by a sudden ague of ter- ror, crouches behind the forge, MiMI. Slain by the dragon! No! No! (Calls.) Sieg- fried ! Siegfried ! [There is a pause, Mimi huddles behind the forge. After a moment Siegfried enters from right background. He comes briskly towards the forge. It is evident that he has not heard Mimis call, Siegfried. Why fails the smith ? Low is the forge-fire ! Where hath he sped? (Looks about,) Mimi — where art thou? Mimi (his head appearing over top of forge). Is it thou, Siegfried, and no other? Siegfried. Where is the hammer? Why is it thou cringest? 210 SIEGFRIED MiMI (coming out). Because of — fear. Siegfried (interested). Fear? What is fear? MiMI. The thing that whispers to you in the forest and maketh your flesh creep. Siegfried. Nought ever whispered to me in the forest save the singing and sighing of leaves ! MiMI (shivering). And the shadows — strange things that you know not. Siegfried. When I see shadows I search them. MiMI (with look of fear over his shoulder; himself unstrung by what he is describing). In the dark — it is then that fear clutches. SIEGFRIED 211 Siegfried. What care I for daylight or darkness? The wood IS the same to my footsteps. MiMI. Well, then, fear will I teach thee. Yonder, look! There is the Neidhole, the cave of the great dragon Faf- ner. Siegfried (delighted). Never have I seen a dragon! Why hath he never come forward? MiMI. Because thou hast never aroused him. Terrible is he and mighty. Thee would he snatch at a mouthful. Siegfried. First would he taste of my weapon. Weapon! Alas! What have I! (Remembering.) Now, as I live! The sword that was broken FU mend. Quick! Fetch it! MiMI (to himself). Since I cannot mend it myself 1 212 . SIEGFRIED Siegfried (joyfully). To dust will I sunder It, and then rebind. (Keeps up the heat with bellows.) Tell to me now the name of the sword that into dust I have sundered. [Hammers at anvil. MiMI (to Siegfried), Nothung' its name is. (To himself, looking darkly at Siegfried.) And when thou hast forged it and met with the dragon, may each be eased of his foe! May each die, so I gain whole the booty. Siegfried i (busy at forge). Workest thou, Mimi? MiMI (relapsing into silence the while he watches Siegfried warily). Not 1. Siegfried (joyfully chanting as he works), Nothung ! Nothung ! With noise of thunderer Cold, gleaming sunderer. Weapon all glorious, here do I weld thee! SIEGFRIED 213 Keen-cold as death thou art, Swift as a breath thou art, Weapon victorious, what could have felled thee ? Thou shalt be made a-new Sword like a flame-tongue blue, Conqueror thunderful ! Conqueror splendid ! Ring anvil! Ring amain! Fly sparks like golden rain! Conqueror wonderful! My toil is ended! [Holds up sword, whole and gleaming. Then turns to Mimi. Siegfried. See, Mimi, the sword-smith, for dragons and plot- ting dwarfs, so slices Siegfried's sword! [With one stroke he crashes the anvil in two. Mimi cries J "Mercy! Mercy!'* his voice an inarticulate shriek, and with every sign of terror rushes into the forest by the path at left background. Siegfried (satisfied). Gone is the dwarf! I shall fight with the dragon alone. But first I'll gain breath! (Throws himself on grass, at left of stage. Faint music begins — the strains of the '' Waldwebben " or " Forest-Weaving " of Wagner s '' Siegfried,** and now and again the twit- 214 SIEGFRIED ter of a bird note,) Hark to the forest! (The clear notes of the birds are repeated,) Winsome singer, thou singest sweetly! Lovely art thou, O voice of the wood! The moody dwarf muttered one day that the voice of the forest was real, and its songs could be made into meaning. In the deep stillness I listen. The voice of the wood speaks from its heart to mine. " Be brave!'' it crieth. ''Be steadfast!" (Rises.) Now will I rouse the dragon ! (Blows the horn slung from his girdle. Then listens,) He wakes ! He stirs him- self ! There in the cave do I see him. Terrible is he and monstrous! His eyes are like fire. His jaws like a gateway. His teeth are as spears! (To his sword, Nothung, as he upholds it,) With all my heart did I fashion thee! With all my strength did I hammer thee! With all my soul did I weld thee! Fail me not now in my need ! (He runs into the cave. Ter- rific din. The sound of struggle. The accompanying music y the '^Siegfried'* of Wagner, swells louder and louder. Siegfried's voice is heard above it: '^ Die, earth-worm! " He comes out, spent, and leans for an instant on his sword, which is covered with blood.) The dragon is conquered! The world lies before me! (Looks at his hand, which is smeared with blood from the sword.) Yet like fire bites the blood ! (Puts it to his lips.) The Voice of the Forest (a bird-note sounding while it speaks). Siegfried I SIEGFRIED 215 Siegfried (greatly startled). Something has turned the forest voice into speech! Words are borne to me on the breeze! The magic taste of the dragon^s blood — ^was it this that it wrought? The Forest Voice. Siegfried! Look deeply in the cave! There lieth the ring that shall give thee power over the world. There lieth the tarn-helm that shall make thee vic- torious. These hast thou won with thy courage. Wrongfully the dragon held them. To thy lot do they fall. Enter, Siegfried, and take them. Siegfried. Voice of the Forest, to thee I give thanks! Swiftly I'll take, then, my guerdon. Proudly I'll wear it! \^He enters the cave, and a moment later comes out with the tarn-helm and the ring, Siegfried (openly admiring them). Wonderful are they, and beauteous. The ring and the tarn-helm! There was gold, too, in heaps, won- drous, shining. But what need has a strong lad of gold? Besides, it is heavy to carry. My sword, and my helm; my wit and my arm! What needs a youth more when he faces the world that lies outside his 2i6 . SIEGFRIED home! (Pauses,) I'll block the cave's mouth with the dragon. The gold that he guarded while living he still shall guard, though he be dead! (He goes into the cave, and then comes out, well satisfied. Part of the dragon s scales are seen blocking the opening.) Fare- well to the forest, and to thee (turns towards Forest Voice), ohy sweet guider, my thanks! (Draws near to the trees at left.) How long shall a youth be vic- torious? The Forest Voice. So long as he fights without fear all the dark and the evil he meets with : so long as he keepeth his sword all ready and bright for the conflict : so long as his heart is still pure, so long as his hands are not greedy. Thus shall he conquer all dragons, all evil things that he meets with. Farewell, to thee, then, valiant Siegfried. Siegfried (his face turned towards the voice, as he backs off towards opening at right background). Farewell ! Farewell, voice of guidance ! Now to the world will I turn me! (His voice coming back, fainter and fainter, after he has made his exit.) Farewell! Farewell ! THE CURTAIN FALLS THE SNOW WITCH A Russian Folk Play CHARACTERS Marina^ an old peasant woman SiLVER-SoNiA, the Snow Witch The Princess Valeska Paul^ her sledge-driver Ivan FOMA Peasant Lads, Girls, and Dancers THE SNOW WITCH Source This folk play is a weaving of several folk tales. Its theme of contentment or submissiveness to fate, is one that runs like a leit-motive throughout much of Russian folk lore. Each one has his burden. It is better to carry it cheerfully than to strive to shift it. Indeed, to shift it would be at the risk of assuming a greater one. Ever the saying runs: "Who dwelleth happily and at ease in Russia ? " — a theme that has been laborated into the great folk poem, " Who in Russia Finds Life Good?", by Nikolai Alexyevitch Neckrasoff. This mournful note sounds not only in the dark, bloody, tragic Russian epics of prehistoric times; but even in the tales of the herdsmen and peas- ants of a much later day. Among the supernatural figures that are pictured forth in Russian folk lore, witches predominate, good and bad witches, witches of storm and of safety, descendants of a time when the Muscovites worshiped the Sun Goddess. It is hardly strange in a country where the elements play so large a part in human happiness that superstition should give these same elements human form. It is interesting to note that of all European countries 219 220 THE SNOW WITCH Russia IS the only one whose folk tales lack a moral either appended or Implied. Neither in epic nor herds- man's story can It be found ; and the preachment of con- tentedness or submission is the one approach to it that Russian folk-lore literature has made. As to witches, throughout all the epics and herdsman's stories the belief that they could change humans into animals or birds, or into the shape of other humans, is continually dwelt on. The Were Wolf mentioned in the play, a superstition common to most of the Northern countries, is a banned human or doomed soul who takes the form of a wolf, and whose howl Is heard in the night watches. The Were Wolf in Russia is supposed to lurk in the dark forests, and to It are ascribed many uncanny powers, among them that of being able to put a spell on humans. In all Russian folk tales the Were Wolf Is a familiar figure. Stage Setting The schoolroom setting is extremely simple. School- room furniture can be used. The hearth, two boxes, covered with gray cambric bulked to represent stone, and touched with gray and black chalk markings. In the opening that forms the hearth, two red electric light bulbs, or red tinsel embers against black tissue paper. If appropriate walls or background cannot be had, screens or sacking-covered clothes-horses will serve. The screens should be covered with brown burlap. The window, a pane Inserted into one of these screens and THE SNOW WITCH 221 painted white, for frost. The music for the dance may be played off stage, or by a wandering Russian fiddler, who enters with the dancers. Costumes Marina. A scarlet head-dress made by looping up scarlet cloth in a fantastic fashion. A brown skirt, full, and worn at a length a little above the ankles. A brown peasant bodice, and a white guimpe. The Snow Witch. A robe of white cotton batting (tacked on lawn to give it shape), and covered with silver dust. Tight-fitting sleeves of white canton flan- nel. Wing-like oversleeves made of silver tissue, or silver paper stitched to tarlatan. They should fall back gracefully w^hen the arm is raised. A white canton- flannel cloak, very full, caught to shoulders and sleeves, so that, with the raising of the arms, the cloak is raised likewise, giving the effect of a great white moth or storm bird. If these simple materials are beyond the limit of school costumes, white sheets can be used instead. A wreath of silver-frost leaves for head cov- ering. The hair beneath it sprinkled with white powder. The Princess Valeska. A scarlet dress touch- ing the floor. A golden crown-like edging to a scarlet velvet cap (coronal shaped, and set firmly on head). A long dark cape edged in fur. A golden necklace. Ivan. Tall boots. Russian blouse suit. Tall furred cap. A silver girdle. A sword. A black cloak about his shoulders. 222 THE SNOW WITCH FoMA. A dark-blue dress similar to that worn by Marina. A dark-blue cloak. The peasant lads wear Russian blouse suits, dark blue; dark green; black. The girls are costumed like Foma, in green, maroon, and gray, with coif-like caps or head-dresses of gay colors. The girls wear shawls, which they remove on entering, and carry on their arms. THE SNOW WITCH* Scene: The home of Marina, A hare, plain room, A door in background, left. Beyond it a tiny win- dow, A hearth at right with a chair beside it. Against the left wall a cupboard. Beneath the window a deal table. On it a few cups of earthenware, and a small brass samovar. On the platter a loaf of black bread. At the rise of the curtain, Marina is looking out through the tiny window, breathing on it to get a clear space, for it is heavily frosted. The samovar is steaming; near it the wick of a squat brass lamp burns with a blue flame; the hooded hearth sends out a cheer- ful, rosy glow that gives the room an air of comfort, in spite of the meagerness of its furnishing, Marina (rubbing at window). It IS a fine night, and a cold. Ai! How sharp the stars are shining! They are as white as the snow that covers the steppes! And the snow — how it is whirling whenever the wind passes. Now it blows like a white scarf; now it seems to move and tower as if (Turns, facing audience, and rubs her eyes,) The ♦Printed by arrangement with The Butterick Company. 223 224 THE SNOW WITCH whiteness must have blinded me; for I thought I saw the snow move like a human shape, a woman with a crown of frost-leaves. (Turns again to window,) No ! No ! I was but dreaming ! There are the village lights, and there's no one passing, though I can hear the faint, far sound of music from where the lads and girls are dancing. (Crosses to hearth,) Dancing! No! No! Marina, your feet are too old for that! Your youth lies far behind you. You've only the sing- ing steam and the fire to keep you company. (Wind gives a gust, without.) There's the wind again ! 'Tis like a voice that's calling. (Returns to window j rubs it, and peers out,) There's the snow still whirling with the wind, and looking like (Starts back from window.) Nay, I was right! 'Twas some- thing moving! (Peers again.) Now, as I live, it is the Snow Witch whom folk call Silver-Sonia — she who goes abroad before the flakes come flying! I wonder why she is looking at my window ! SiLVER-SONIA (knocking at the door without), Marina! Marina! Let me in! Marina. She knocks! She calls me! (Hesitates,) Shall I open the door, or no ? All the Snow Witch ever does is to wander about before a storm. (Silver-Sonia ■ THE SNOW WITCH 225 knocks again.) I never heard of her working harm to any one; so why should I grudge to lift the latch? [^Opens the door. SiLVER-SONIA (crossing the threshold, a white-clad glittering figure, wreathed with frost, and with something very stately in her bearing). There are good witches and evil witches, Marina. All those who live in Bitter Russia know it well. And they know, too, that I have never used my powers for aught save the sheltering of the furry folk of the forest, and the enlightening of those who live in villages. I am a prophecy, a warning. When folk see me, they say: ''A storm is coming. Let us put off our jour- ney till it passes." Sometimes I tread the deserted highway. Sometimes I pause at the hearths of humans. To-night I saw the friendly gleam of your window, and I said : " Marina is alone. She will make me welcome." (Turns to Marina, who has backed away from her, somewhat over-awed.) It is not of my will I go a-rov- ing; but when the wild winds blow I feel their echo here in my heart. Then must I forth, whether I will Marina (timidly). Is there to be a storm to-night? 226 THE SNOW WITCH SiLVER-SONIA. Nay. But to-morrow the clouds will gather, and there will be a snowstorm. To-night, 'tis sharp and clear! To-morrow — flakes a-flying! [As she speaks the silverish gauze that floats from her sleeve whirls as with presage of coming storm as she raises her arm, Marina. You must see strange sights, Silver-Sonia ! SiLVER-SONIA. I see the great white wastes where never a human stirs! I see the midnight forests black against the stars. I see the huddled villages with tiny lights in their windows. I see the bleak harvest fields, where the drifts lie deeply, and where the lone gray wolf is fleet as a moving shadow. Marina (beginning to recover from her awe, and wake to a sense of manners). Will you not be seated, Silver-Sonia? SiLVER-SONIA. Beneath a roof? Nay, nay. I must be with the storm-wind. Yet ere I leave the steppes of the village ¥ THE SNOW WITCH 227 I will return to you; for I see that my going grieves you, good Marina. And for those who love a hearth what hearth could shine brighter! You must be happy in this home of yours, Marina. Marina (bitterly). Happy ! An old woman happy ! With all my years behind me, and no joy to come! SiLVER-SONIA. Yet you have many comforts, Marina. Marina. Comforts! To be living here old and lonely? Do you call that comfort? Fve had my fill of such! If I v/ere young, now, like some of our village girls, or rich like the Princess Valeska (Grumbles,) There's not a soul hereabout but what must be happier than I! SiLVER-SONIA (quietly). How would you like to change, Marina? Marina (looking at Silver-Sonia, half -fascinated, half -fearful). Change Do you mean Have you power to make me change 228 THE SNOW WITCH SiLVER-SONIA. But lay your hand in the hand of the human whom you envy most, and then you will change places. Ah, I see! You only half-believe me. Look into my eyes, Marina (Marina does as she is bid.) You do not doubt me now. Marina (brushing her hand across her own eyes and speaking to herself). There is magic in her eyes! They are like deep wells with stars in them! SiLVER-SONIA. Now you can change your lot, Marina. You can be another than yourself. Marina (joyfully). And some one else will be changed into poor old Marina! (Suddenly pausing in her delight,) But what would a neighbor do if she were changed to Marina? Would she look like me? Would she talk like me? And what would the neighbors say if she told them that she was no longer herself, though she stood in my skin? THE SNOW WITCH 229 SiLVER-SONIA. They would say, " Poor Marina has gone mad to- day. The White Fox has bitten her." Marina (again overjoyed). So they would ! So they would ! None would know I had done it! Oh, to think I can change from being myself! It is a great gift you have given me! SiLVER-SONIA (at door). When I return I will find how you have used my gift. I will know whose lot in life you have chosen for your own ! Choose wisely, Marina Machinoff ! [^Exit Sonia. Marina. Choose! Fve the whole village to choose from! (Suiting her step and actions to the words,) Young women, old women, middle-aged! I can be what I like! Only to lay my hand in the hand of the one I envy m.ost ! (A light breaking over her face,) Why, I can be a man ! (Again suiting her action to the word as she walks up and down.) A soldier, a sledge-driver, a mojuk! And when we have changed places, how the 230 THE SNOW WITCH soldier will rage to find himself in petticoats! Knit- ting instead of marching! (Laughs to herself.) Ai! What a jest it would be! Til place my hand in his, so! And then (Laughs to herself, and then wipes her eyes,) But, after all, it is better to stay a woman. (Sits by hearth,) Now, let me see, who shall I be? (Telling off her neighbors on her fingers,) Mary a Topliff? No! No! Her nose is far too long! Alia Povlova? But her step is halting. Besides, they're poor. And to be happy one must be rich and noble. Hark! (Nearer and nearer come the sounds of sleigh- bells,) Sleighbells! And of silver! Who can be passing? Can it be some one with whom I might change places? [ There comes the sound of a whip-handle knock- ing on the door^ Marina hastens to open it, and Paul, the sledge-driver, stands on the threshold, wrapped in furs, Paul. Have you a fire here? Fire and shelter for the Princess Valeska? Marina (overcome)* The Princess! (Paul stands back. The Princess enters. She is richly garbed, and, after a glance about the room, sweeps to the fire at left.) Excellency, all THE SNOW WITCH 231 that I have is at your Excellency's service. (Looks at Paul.) Your Excellency's sledge-driver? Princess Valeska (at fire). Let him wait v^ithout. {Exit Paul. Marina (to herself). To be a sledge-driver! Not for a thousand kopecs would I lay my hand in his! Princess Valeska (at fire). Good peasant Marina (starting forward). Can I serve your Excellency? Princess Valeska (who has unfastened her cloak). The warmth of your fire has served me, good peas- ant, and I must be going on. How do they call you? 232 THE SNOW WITCH Marina (bowing humbly). They call me Marina, Excellency. Will your Ex- cellency taste my tea? It is all that I have to offer. Princess Valeska (more to herself than to Marina), No! No! I only want the warmth. I am afraid of the night. I shiver through my furs. Marina. You fear the night, Excellency? Princess Valeska. The night and the robbers. Marina (startled). Robbers ! Princess Valeska. It comes iof having gold and jewels. Always they follow me. Sometimes they start like shadows from the edge of the forest, and sometimes they gallop after me to my very doors. THE SNOW WITCH 233 Marina (gasping). Shield us! Have mercy! I should die of terror! Princess Valeska (shuddering). Even in my dreams I see them — their greedy, cruel eyes. Why, have you never shaken in your sleep, good mother I Marina (vehemently). Oh, never, never, never! Princess Valeska. Have you never driven homeward with your heart thudding with fear ? Ah, I see ! Peace dwells beneath your roof! A Princess must go like a Princess; but a peasant is safe from danger. It is a free and happy moment I have spent with you, Marina, and therefore you may take my fingers within your own. You may kiss my hand. Marina (starting forward, and then drawing back as she re- members). Oh, no, no, no! I mean — I kiss your fingers, Ex- cellency! (With her hands held tightly behind her 234 . THE SNOW WITCH back, Marina bends over the Princess's outstretched hand,) How should I touch so snowy a hand as yours with a palm that is as rough as mine! (Kisses the Princess's hand.) The honor overcomes me! Princess Valeska. My cloak, Marina. Marina (assisting her). May your Excellency speed well and safely ! Princess Valeska. I thank you. \^Exit Valeska. Sleigh bells grow fainter and fainter. Marina. If she had made me put my hand in hers Ah, I shiver to think of it ! Darkness and robbers ! (Shiv- ers again.) I would not be the Princess for a thou- sand rubles! (Dance music begins outside, drawing nearer and nearer.) It is always ill luck to be a woman. If I were only a lad, with the world before me! There's Ivan now So tall, so strong, so handsome! He'd be the match for a dozen robbers! THE SNOW WITCH 235 Ivan (laughing in doorway). Why, so he would, dushenka, unless they were a match for him. \_Dance music grows nearer. Marina. Oh, Ivan, how you startled me! Ivan. Did you not hear me knock? The world is full of surprises ! Marina. It is, indeed. What would you say, now, Ivan, if you should find yourself turned into an old woman like me? [Folds her arms and regards him, Ivan (folding his arms and regarding her). And what would you say if you found yourself a sol- dier? Ah, you think I look wonderful now with the cloak and the clanking sword; but you should see us on the march with our shoes frozen to our feet, and 2Z^ THE SNOW WITCH ._ | nothing to eat except crusts and snow! You would not tnvy us then, I give you my hand upon it ! [Stretches out his hand, Marina (starting back). No ! No ! Do not give me your hand. I will take your word. I will take your word. Listen ! There's music, Ivan. The dancers must be coming here ! [With a gay shout Marina's door is opened, and the dancers dance in and fill the room, lads and girls in peasant costumes. As they pass Marina she reaches out her hand and stays one of the girls, Marina. There is no one here as beautiful, as light of foot as you, pretty Foma. Will you lay your hand in mine and take a step or two with an old woman? Foma (stretching out her hand, and then pausing as there comes the far-off howl of a wolf). What sound is that? Ivan (jesting). The Were Wolf is calling you, Foma. THE SNOW WITCH 237 Marina (starting back). Heaven save us! You cannot mean what you are saying! It is not true that the wicked powers of the forest have cast a spell on Foma?. FOMA (holding out her hand). Come, neighbor Marina, the music is calling us! Marina (drawing back). No! No! My feet are too old for dancing. I spoke in jest, pretty Foma. [Foma turns away, laughing, and joins the other dancers. The village fiddler has been un- flagging in his music, and Foma, with the others, turns towards the door. One by one all the dancers cross the threshold and disap- pear into the night, save Ivan, who lingers for a moment with Marina. Marina (anxiously). And you, too, spoke in jest, did you not, Ivan? It is not true that the powers of the forest have put a spell on Foma? 238 THE SNOW WITCH Ivan (half -smiling, half-serio us) . You cannot tell about another's life, good neighbor. There are dark spells woven in the shadow, and bright spells woven in the sun. No life is all sun or all Marina (coming slowly and thoughtfully back to the center of ihe room), I do not know whether he be in jest or in earnest; but of one thing am I certain : I will not try to change places with any. The Princess is always in terror; Ivan must suffer as he marches; and Foma Was it true about the Were Wolf or was Ivan jesting, I wonder? Well, be that as it may, I am glad I did not lay my hand in hers. No! No! It is better to be just one's self, with one's own burdens! SiLVER-SONIA (entering softly). Well spoken, Marina! I see you have learned true wisdom. See you, the fire has burned low, and the charm has ended. You may lay your hand in mine without fear. Look once again into my eyes, IVIarina. [Marina does as she is bid. Sonia slips a white ring into Marina's hand, and then goes softly out the door. THE SNOW WITCH 239 Marina (delighted), A ring! A gift from Silver-Sonia! What says it? (Reads,) Choose not another's lot or pelf, Happiness lies within thyself ! I am thinking the Snow Witch speaks truly! CURTAIN BOOKS ON AND OF SCHOOL PLAYS By Constance D'Arcy Mackay HOW TO PRODUCE CHILDREN'S PLAYS The author is a recognized authority on the production of plays and pageants in the public schools, and combines en- thusiastic sympathy with sound, practical instructions. 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THE GERMAN DRAMA OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY By Georg Witkowski. Translated by Prof. L. E. Hornixg. Kleist, Grillparzer, Hebbel, Ludwig, Wildenbruch, Sudermann, Haupt- mann, and minor dramatists receive attention. 12mo. $1,00. New York Times Review: "The translation of this brief, clear and logical account was an extremely happy idea. Nothing at the same time so comprehensive and terse has appeared on the subject, and it is a subject of increasing interest to the English-speaking public." HENRY holt AND COMPANY PUBLISHERS NEW YORK By CARROLL WATSON RANKIN STORIES FOR GIRLS THE CINDER POND Illustrated by Ada C. Williamson. $1.25 net. Years ago, a manufacturer built a great dock, jutting out from and then turning parallel to the shore of a northern Michigan town. The factory was abandoned, and following the habits of small towns, the space between the dock and the shore became "The Cinder Pond." 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Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. ^ 61an'57PW RECD LD DEC 12 1955 ? ■-'' LD 21-100m-6,'56 ,, .General Library . (B9311sl0)476 Umversuy of California VB 31868 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY