The Flutter of the Goldleaf; and Other Plays
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Olive Tilford Dargan and Frederick Peterson >> The Flutter of the Goldleaf; and Other Plays
_Shun_ (_with great effort_)
I cannot go. If I part from Wong Fe the blood will leave my veins and
flow back to her.
_Makuro_
Then take her with you.
_Shun_
You know what this journey means.
_Ching_
Yes, you must go free. With such a weight you would be useless. I will
take Wong Fe to her brothers.
_Shun_
I shall hold her forever!
_Ching_
You think joy can last so long? (_To_ MAKURO, _shrugging._) A boy yet!
_Shun_
In Japan you have my young scholar, Onoto. All my knowledge I have given
him. In his heart is my purpose, his eyes hold my vision.
_Makuro_
Onoto!
_Shun_
His years are younger, his flame will leap higher. I am only one who
fails you. In every nation our numbers are growing. Do not fear for
humanity. Our brothers are everywhere.
_Makuro_
You say Onoto?
_Shun_
He has the gift of the shining word--the word that draws the heart as a
full moon at sea draws the eye. I can turn my back on the world and rob
it of nothing, for I have given it Onoto.
_Ching_
How long have you been chirping here like a cricket under a leaf, with
no news from the roadside?
_Shun_
It is three weeks to-day since I brought Wong Fe to the door of my
fathers.
_Ching_
Three weeks! On the very day of your joy Onoto was thrown into prison.
_Shun_
They would not dare!
_Makuro_
They did dare.
_Shun_
In prison--Onoto!
_Makuro_
No, he is not now in prison.
_Shun_
Free?
_Makuro_
The enmity of the powers was bitter. Everywhere he was sowing the seed
of peace. In many a house the ancestral sword was broken at his bidding.
_Shun_
But he is free?
_Makuro_
Yesterday (_glances out at the stars_), at this hour, he was shot.
_Shun_ (_slowly comprehending_)
Then I have been twenty-four hours dead.
(_He steps uncertainly out to the little porch. They gaze at the
floor, respecting his grief_. WONG FE _makes a motion to follow
him._ CHING _stops her with a gesture, and she shrinks back._ YU
TAI SHUN _re-enters._)
_Shun_
Your mercy, friends. (_Crosses left, to exit._)
_Ching_
You will go with us now?
_Shun_ (_turns and hurls the word_)
No!
(_An instant of silence follows his exit, then_ WONG FE _comes
forward._)
_Wong Fe_
Peace to your hearts, honorable friends of Yu Tai Shun! He will depart
with you.
_Ching_
Not yet. We must wait. Invisible chains cannot be broken. But they will
disunite of themselves. Then he will come.
_Wong Fe_
I will send him with you to-night.
_Ching_
_You_ send him?
_Wong Fe_
Do you think I will divide his life so that the two halves can bear no
fruit? That I will wait until he hates me for that ruin?
_Ching_ (_with laughter_)
Hates you, oh princess!
_Wong Fe_
Wait till I must glean in his heart behind a spent passion?--like a poor
widow in the track of a grain-cart?
_Ching_
The coral of your lips will defeat their command, Wong Fe. Near you he
is a dry fagot seized by a flame.
_Wong Fe_
I tell you he will go! Wait in the orchard until you hear the first
whistle of the boat. Then come for him. He will be ready. Go, honorable
friends! He is returning.
_Ching_
It is useless. Your words may bite like winter, but his eyes will see
only the Spring morning.
_Wong Fe_
Go, I beg you, go!
(_They pass out down the steps of porch._ WONG FE _hurries to a small
table, opens a lacquered box and takes from it a stiletto, which she
hides in the folds of her sleeve. She is dancing as_ YU TAI SHUN
_enters, and sings as she dances._)
The thousand odors of Spring
Are the thousand arms of love.
They find thee in the valleys,
On the crest of the hills they reach thee;
Till Spring bear no fragrance
Thou canst not escape them,
The thousand arms of love!
The orchard pool is a pillow,
A pillow for the twin lotus,
And the wings of the flying geese
Are warm in the air of heaven;
They drop to the shadowy lake-sedge,
For sweet looks the earth from the roads of the sky,
And in heaven are no cool grasses.
Ever listening
Are the leaves of the slim dryanda,
Whose heart is the harp of the Spring-wind.
A dryanda-tree is my lover,
And my thoughts are the leaves that listen.
Autumn, Autumn, touch not my leaf-thoughts!
Cast them not down when the pool is grey,
And the teal no more sail two and two
With their breasts above one shadow.
_Shun_
Come to me, Wong Fe! I feel that you have blown through my door like
a rose petal, and will drift away again, leaving me not a footprint
to kiss.
_Wong Fe_
Neither in life nor in death shall I leave you, my lord. Though I seem
to die, and these graces that please you fall to earth like
willow-blossoms, it is not I that will lie on the sand.
_Shun_
Why do you speak of death, Wong Fe?
_Wong Fe_
Because I am so happy. The sages say that we can have no fairer fortune
than to die in our happiest moment.
_Shun_
Do not speak of death. The word blisters the air, though your lips be as
two drops of June rain.
_Wong Fe_
But how sweet to die when I am fairest in your eyes! Every year, at this
time, you would walk down the peach-flower lanes and recall the glow of
my cheek. Oh, Heaven, let me not be a faded wife in the blooming time of
the year!
_Shun_
Thy soul, Wong Fe, is the flower of my worship.
_Wong Fe_
And death would give my soul wholly to you. I should be near you always.
Then morning would not call you to the peaks, leaving me behind in the
tear-dew.
_Shun_
To-morrow we shall go together. Your shadow will be with mine on the
rocks, and under the fir-trees we shall forget the valley.
_Wong Fe_
And the world? Oh, my lord, there are distances farther than the peaks
of Siang, and they will call you from me. It cannot be that you who have
known all lands will be content with one. I would see the strange people
you have made your brothers, would listen to their dreams, and read the
future with their hearts. There are dangers you would not let my body
share--I do not ask that--but my soul, you could forbid it nothing.
_Shun_
What have you heard? What has Makuro said to you?
_Wong Fe_
What should he say but that the cakes were good, and the tea had the
flavor of the fields of Hunan?
_Shun_
We must join our friends. Where do they wait?
_Wong Fe_
They listen for the boat that will stop at the foot of the orchard. Why
do they go? Old friends should not be so brief in greeting. Could they
not stay one night?
_Shun_
No--no. (_Sits down_.) They must go.
_Wong Fe_ (_laying her hand on his shoulder_)
What voice dost thou hear, and wilt not answer?
_Shun_
Nothing--nothing.
_Wong Fe_
You will not long be deaf between the beating of our two hearts. You
will hear and go. That is why I long for the death-fairy to come in my
hour of happiness. You have joined with strong men to lift a heavy yoke
from the world. My smiles cannot feed your spirit. Go with your friends.
Let the whistle of the boat part us.
_Shun_
The cassia-tree may draw itself from earth, and walk on feet of roots
through the world, but I cannot divide my days from yours, for you are
myself, Wong Fe.
_Wong Fe_ (_resigned_)
I believe you, my lord. We shall not part. But what joy it would be to
die now in your presence, while the love-cup is full! Oh, I could not
meet death alone! You know the poor ghost in the song who died in the
absence of her lover? She is always pleading to be allowed to die again
when his arms may be around her. So would my ghost go wailing if I lost
your kiss in death. (_Touches his cheek_.) Is that a tear, Yu Tai Shun?
I torture you because I am so happy! You shall laugh, my prince! I know
a new game we shall play. Little So Siu taught it to me to-day. She says
it is an American game. We call it "Guess behind you!" You turn your
back--like that--and you must tell me what I am doing. When you miss
three times, then I shall tell you what you must pay. Now--what is it
I do?
_Shun_
You throw me a kiss.
_Wong Fe_
So I do! And now, my soul's light?
(_Takes stiletto from her sleeve. The whistle of the boat is heard.
He turns. She hides stiletto._)
_Shun_
Our friends are going.
_Wong Fe_
But wait--there is time. You must guess once more! Oh, you are slow as
ten turns of a river! There!
(_Turns his head with her hands, then snatches the stiletto, stabs
herself and falls. He turns, kneels dazedly, and takes her in his arms
as she dies._ CHING _and_ MAKURO _enter._)
_Ching_
The boat-- (_Stops in consternation._)
_Makuro_ (_softly_)
Master, I did not ask this price.
_Shun_ (_rising_)
It is paid.
(CURTAIN)
EVERYCHILD
A PLAY OR PAGEANT
BY
FREDERICK PETERSON
AND
OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
_Scene I. The Garden of Joy_
Cho-Cho The Clown Everychild Mother, Father, and dancing children
_Scene II. Sweat-shop_
Father, Mother, three children, Everychild
_Scene III. The Farmstead_
Jim the Father, Mary the Mother, Billie, Tom, and Rosie, their
children. Cho-Cho and Everychild
_Scene IV. The Coal-mine_
Joe, Jack, Bert--three old miners and two boys
_Final Scene. Same as first scene_
Cho-Cho, Everychild, Mother, Father. Old group of children and new
group with Everychild
PROLOGUE
BY CHO-CHO
Good people!
This is the Play of Everychild
With Cho-Cho
As Author and Manager.
The play has defects--
It has good points--
And bad points--
Like the world itself--
Like life!
Perhaps the author of the world
Is something like me,
A little grotesque,
A little whimsical,
Serious often,
Sometimes all the more serious
Seen through a Fool's words
With cap and jingle of bells.
In this droll world
There are lots of children
Who are the children of fools--
Like me.
Good people!
I bespeak your patience
With Everychild
Daughter of a Clown.
SCENE I: _Stage dark as curtain rises. Moderate starlight and quiet
music of cradle-song type. Little fairies come out dancing in the
darkness with firefly lamps and sing the following cradle song:_
Some one is sleeping
Out in the dark
Where fireflies glimmer
Spark upon spark.
Some little stranger
Come from afar
Under the glory
Of moon and of star.
Deep in the blossoms
That drift as they fall
Some one is sleeping
And stirs not at all.
Sleep, little stranger!
The night is near gone;
Sleep, little stranger,
But dream of the dawn!
_The dim light reveals a dark figure lying on the mosses at the foot
of an old tree. As the light grows gradually stronger the dark object
begins to move, to slowly take off one after another of black
coverings, revealing a little girl of nine or ten years, dressed in
white. She rubs her eyes, looks about wonderingly, and slowly rises
to a standing position. Meanwhile the earth grows more luminous and
roseate. The birds have begun to twitter now and then before the dawn,
and their notes increase in number and variety with the approach of
morning. The growing light reveals an orchard of old apple-trees near
at hand in full bloom, with petals falling, and hills and mountains
lifting and towering upward higher and higher into the blue distance.
A path leads from the orchard up the near hills and toward the
heights. The music has grown louder, and is sweet and tender,
interspersed with bird notes. A number of children, girls and boys,
come out and sing and dance under the blossoms of the apple-trees.
They sing the children's song:_
We are of the sunrise
Flower-breath and dew,
Travelling wider circles
Of blue beyond the blue,
Seeking strength of spirit,
Happiness and joy--
Heritage decreed for
Every girl and boy.
Music of the moonbeams
And the orchard rain,
Music of the meadows
Waving with the grain,
Mountains in the sunlight,
Colors of the flowers,
Trailing cloud and shadow--
All of these are ours.
We are of the sunrise
Flower-breath and dew,
Travelling wider circles
Of blue beyond the blue.
_The little girl in the foreground looks with wonder and delight
at the entrancing spectacle. She has her side to the audience.
She raises her arms, listens, rubs her eyes, smiles with joy. She
touches the grass, the flowers, the trees, picks up and smells the
falling apple-blossoms. She begins to dance like the other children.
One of them sees her and runs toward her with arms outstretched.
The newcomer touches her hair and her hands. They smile at each
other. The little girl leads the stranger toward the others and has
her join in the dance. The dancing is in the Greek manner. They play
with a light, large, bubble-like balloon._
_Little Girl_
What is your name?
_Stranger_
I do not understand.
_Little Girl_
Oh, of course, I forgot. I will lead you to some one who will give you a
name.
(_A man and woman have come slowly through the orchard and seated
themselves on a bench under an apple-tree. Two or three of the
children lead the stranger up to them._)
_Stranger_ (_feeling of the hair and gown of the woman_)
Who are you?
_Woman_ (_smiling_)
I am your mother.
_Stranger_ (_feeling of the hair and face and garments of the man_)
Who are you?
_Man_
I am your father.
_Stranger_
What place is this? They told me somewhere--but I have forgotten--that I
should die _there_ which is being born _here_ and come to the earth.
_Mother_
Yes, this is our world, and I shall give you a name. I shall name you
Everychild.
_Everychild_
Is it always and everywhere so beautiful?
_Mother_
No, but it should be so, and some day it will be so.
_Father_
It is a dream we have.
_Mother_
It will be even more beautiful than this, for we shall go higher, and
climb those Morning Mountains. The flowers of the Spirit grow there.
_Everychild_
And we shall gather them?
_Father_
Yes, Everychild. Come now, and bring all the others with you. We will
take that path yonder to the hills.
_Mother_
No, wait! They are not all here. There are some missing. They must all
come.
_Father_
It will be so long to wait. Let us go with these.
_Mother_ (_laying her hand on_ EVERYCHILD'S _head_)
Have we not named her Everychild?
_Father_
Yes. She must go down and find all who have lost their way. Perhaps some
have awakened in the wrong place and are wandering about in the dark
jungle of the world. We will wait here till they come.
_Mother_
Go, Everychild. Find them and bring them all back with you. Take this
lamp. (_Hands her a rose-colored lamp, etc._)
_Father_
Our lamp?
_Mother_
Our love!
_Father_
Take it, Everychild. With this lamp you can find the lost children and
bring them all back with you.
_Mother_
We will wait for them no matter how long.
(EVERYCHILD _starts down along a path leading off the stage to
the right--the music and singing continue through the whole scene._
CHO-CHO _appears, right, for a moment and points her path to her
saying: "This way, Everychild."_)
(CURTAIN FALLS)
CURTAIN _rises revealing_
SCENE II: _A squalid room in a city tenement, a miserable stove,
a bedraggled bed. Right, a table at which a poorly dressed man and
woman are working fast and feverishly. Three children of about four,
eight, and ten years sit on a bench, left, sewing as fast as they
can, looking tired, depressed, weary. It is evening, the room poorly
lit. Noises from the street, street calls, rumbling of vehicles, honk
of autos, etc., etc._
_The Younger Child_
Ma, can I go to bed? I am so tired and hungry.
_Mother_
It ain't ten yet. It will be only a few minutes more. The boss is coming
early in the morning and we must have the work ready. Now you be still
and keep working. You don't know what a good home you got. Ain't she got
a good home, John?
_Father_
You bet she got a good home, and if you all work now we get the good
coffee and bread in the morning and perhaps in a couple a weeks we all
go to the movies.
_Oldest Child_
Gee, I like to see that fairy play what we see once.
(_Bell strikes ten._)
_Mother_
Now, go right to bed, children. It is ten o'clock.
(_Takes light and goes with husband into room right. Children undress
and scramble into one bed._)
(_Street noises all discontinue, back of room opens out on to the
orchard and the music of first scene is heard with dancing children._
EVERYCHILD _comes into the room with her rosy lamp. The three children
sit up in bed and rub their eyes._ EVERYCHILD _glides all about the
room and looks at the squalid place in dismay, then goes up and smiles
at the children._)
_Everychild_
You are some of the lost children. How did you get in here? Come with
me. I will give you some better clothes and you can dance and sing with
all of them.
(_They get out of bed and she leads them in wonder and joy out into
the orchard._)
(CURTAIN FALLS)
SCENE III: _Plain interior of a farmer's kitchen with farmer's
wife busy over stove, and kitchen table set for lunch for two. Adjacent
room, left, small bedroom in which lies a pallid thin child in bed with
dishes and bottles on little bedside table. Very little light. Curtains
to a single window down. Farmer in overalls comes in, looking hot and
tired. He throws hat on chair, says "Hullo, Mary, dinner ready?" and
proceeds to wash hands and face in a basin on a stool. Then sits down
at the table._
_Mary_ (_bringing food from stove and sitting down opposite_)
Here we are, Jim. Guess you're ready for something. It takes a man to
sprout a patch o' locusts, and you had breakfast by lamplight.
_Jim_
Some o' them roots seemed as long as from here to the barn.
_Mary_
But you'll have the best pasture in the county next year.
_Jim_
What's the good? We rationed our beef steers the way that government
chap taught us, and our pigs, and our sheep, and who got the profit?
_Mary_
A lot more documents came from the government to-day--all about _pigs_.
And we haven't got a decent house to live in! If we could only build on
that pretty bit of high ground I've had picked out for three years,
Rosie would quit havin' these sick spells.
_Jim_
How is she, mother?
_Mary_
I b'lieve she's a little better. Jim, have you got any money left from
sellin' the car?
_Jim_
You know we had to pay the interest at the bank first of all, and the
rest went for fertilizer.
_Mary_
I miss the car more on Rosie's account than mine. She's been cryin'
for a ride this morning. I didn't know what to say. And I had to promise
her she could go to the picnic if she got well. That'll mean a pretty
dress, and hat and shoes.
_Jim_
I don't know where you'll get 'em then.
_Mary_
Looks like we ought to be able to give our children a little pleasure.
There's poor Billie and Tom don't more'n get home from school an' lay
their books down till they have to go to hoein' and pullin' weeds. I
don't blame Billie a bit for runnin' away and goin' fishin' last
Saturday.
_Jim_
I don't either, though I had to whip him for it. I can't do without his
work and get through.
_Mary_
Get through? When did we ever get through anyhow? Look at this, Jim.
(_Picks up paper and points to paragraph._) Beef steers sold to-day in
Chicago at nine cents a pound. It cost us fourteen cents to raise ours,
and we're countin' on makin' things easier by raisin' more next year.
And see here, it says _beef_ went _up_ in the Eastern market four cents.
_Jim_
Steers down, beef up! Robbin' both ways.
(_Enter_ BILLIE _and_ TOM _with schoolbooks, which they throw down,
shouting: "We got a half-holiday!"_)
_Billie_
The big boys are goin' to play ball. Dad, can't we go watch 'em?
(MARY _and_ JIM _look at each other._)
We ain't seen a ball game this year, and we want to learn to play.
They're makin' a little boys' team at school.
_Mary_
Daddy's workin' awfully hard to-day. He needs you bad to pile brush for
him.
_Jim_
You can't go to-day, boys. Next time----
_Billie_ (_hopeless_)
Oh, next time! It's always next time.
_Mary_
Wash up now, and you can have a hot dinner.
(_They wash listlessly._)
_Jim_
Mary, I think you'd better telephone for the doctor to come and have a
look at Rosie.
_Mary_ (_hesitating_)
I did--this morning. He said he didn't have time to come out to-day.
_Jim_
Dr. Lowden?
_Mary_
Guess he's tired o' comin' for nothing. You can't blame him.
(JIM _hangs his head. A knock at the door._ JIM _rises and opens it._
CHO-CHO _enters giggling and grimacing while the farmer and his wife
are speechless with amazement._)
_Cho-Cho_
You sent for a doctor?
_Jim_
Yes--but--you--ain't--no doctor.
_Cho-Cho_
No, I--ain't--no--doctor (_mimicking_), but my daughter is a doctor and
here she is now.
(_Enter_ EVERYCHILD _disguised as a doctor, with a long black cape
hiding her white dress, a pair of goggles over her eyes, a long white
beard, a white wig, a man's hat on, a little black bag in her hands._)
_Jim_ (_tearing his hair distractedly_)
You say that little old man is your daughter and a doctor?
_Cho-Cho_
That's right--but a new kind of doctor. This is a Health doctor, not a
Disease doctor. Present treatment for Health--absent treatment for
absence of Health. (_Ha--ha--hee--hee!_) I'll leave the doctor here.
(_Goes out._)
_Everychild_
Well, well, where is the patient? (_Putting hat on chair._)
_Jim_
I must be crazy, but I never seen a doctor like you. You ain't no
doctor.
_Everychild_
Oh, yes I am. I'm a children's specialist. Is she in that room? (_Goes
to door and opens it_--_draws back a little._) Whew! No air. Lift up
that curtain and open the window! (JIM _does it, rather aghast._) You
must show me where you keep your pigs. Don't they get light and air on a
day like this? (_Goes toward bed as_ ROSIE _rises up in bed and stares
with a smile at the little doctor_.) So this is the little patient.
Well! Well! (_Lifts up and looks at the bottles._) Take these and throw
them out. (_Hands them to_ MARY, _who takes them out and returns._) My!
My! Pork and potatoes and candy! Of all things! I'll have to make out a
diet list later. (_Feels pulse--listens to her chest._) I think the
trouble with you is bad food, bad air, and no light. The trouble is not
enough agricultural pamphlets on human live stock, not enough government
millions spent on the real thing. Now get up, Rose! Let me see you
stand. There, that's good. Now a comb and brush--we'll help this hair
a little.
_Mary_ (_handing_ EVERYCHILD _a comb and brush_)
My hands are so full of work----
_Everychild_ (_arranging_ ROSIE'S _hair_)
Yes, that's better. Now, father, a glass of milk! (JIM _goes
into kitchen._) And mother, open that bag, please.
(_While_ MARY _opens bag._ JIM _returns with glass of milk, which_
ROSIE _drinks._)
_Mary_
Oh, my!
(_Takes out pretty dress, stockings and slippers, which she lifts up,
looks at delightedly, and carries to the doctor._)
_Rosie_
Oh, mother! You did get them!
(EVERYCHILD _works fast, slips the gown on the patient with the
stockings and slippers, while_ ROSIE _smiles happily, though
dazed by the splendor of it._)
_Rosie_
Are you going to take me to the picnic?
_Everychild_
Indeed I am! A picnic that will never be over!
_Rosie_
Are we going to ride? Have we got our car back?
_Everychild_
Better than that.
_Rosie_
What is it?
_Everychild_
You'll see. Maybe you'll dance out of the window.
_Mary_
Are you going to take her away?
_Everychild_
Yes, I shall keep her with me until she is well. Then she will return to
you.
(_Takes out of the bag the rosy lamp and waves it. Throws aside her
cap and pulls off goggles, wig, and beard. The back wall moves away,
revealing the first scene with the same strains of music and the
dancing children in the orchard._ EVERYCHILD _leads_ ROSIE _out to
join them._ BILLIE _and_ TOM _move after them calling: "Let us go
with you! Take us with you!"_)
_Rosie_
Oh, please take Billie and Tom!
_Everychild_
Yes, I want them, too. Come along, boys!
(_They shout and run after_ ROSIE _and_ EVERYCHILD.)
_Mary_
Oh, Jim, is this a dream? Or am I awake at last?
_Jim_ (_putting his hand to his head, dazedly_)
Perhaps this is what it ought to be for all the children of the world.
(CURTAIN FALLS)
SCENE IV: _Interior of a coal-mine, lit only by lamps on the
heads of three men and two boys, about twelve and fourteen years, the
men busy at work getting the coal down with picks, the boys shovelling
coal into a car. They work a few minutes. Distant muffled sound of a
steam-whistle. They immediately drop tools and go to corner and pick
up each a can, paper bag, or small basket, and sit down to eat._
_One Man_
Lunch-time. It feels good to rest half an hour in this bloomin' hole.
(_Takes a drink from a bottle he brings from his pocket and hands to
another._) Have a swig, Jack?