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CALIBAN
BY THE YELLOW SANDS
SHAKESPEARE
TERCENTENARY
MASQVE
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A Comedy.
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the Ludicrous
Armance of the Orient.


CALIBAN








WORKS BY PERCY MACKAYE.
DRAMAS
THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS. A Comedy.
JEANNE D'ARC. A Tragedy.
SAPPHO AND PHAON. A Tragedy.
FENRIS THE WOLF. A Tragedy.
A GARLAND TO SYLVIA. A Dramatic Reverie.
THE SCARECROW. A Tragedy of the Ludicrous.
YANKEE FANTASIES. Five One-act Plays.
MATER. An American Study in Comedy.
ANTI-MATRIMONY. A Satirical Comedy.
TO-MORROW. A Play in Three Acts.
A THOUSAND YEARS AGO. A Romance of the Orient.
THE IMMIGRANTS. A Lyric Drama.
MASQUES
CALIBAN. A Shakespeare Masque.
SAINT LOUIS. A Civic Masque.
SANCTUARY. A Bird Masque.
THE NEW CITIZENSHIP. A Civic Ritual.
POEMS
THE SISTINE EVE, and Other Poems.
URIEL, and Other Poems.
LINCOLN. A Centenary Ode.
THE PRESENT HOUR.
POEMS AND PLAYS. In Two Volumes.
ESSAYS
THE PLAYHOUSE AND THE PLAY.
THE Civic THEATRE.
A SUBSTITUTE FOR WAR.
AT ALL BOOKSELLERS
Uniform with this volume
SAINT LOUIS: A Civic MASQUE
AS ENACTED BY 7,000 CITIZENS OF SAINT LOUIS


CALIBAN





في زفين في نه
تي في
في فيلم از



SETEBOS
PRELIMINARY SKETCH OF SETEBOS, BY JOSEPH URBAN


CALIBAN
BY THE YELLOW SANDS
BY
PERCY MACKAYE
GARDEN CITY
NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
1916


dl ny16TG
“Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands /"
THE TEMPEST.
CALIBAN
BY THE YELLOW SANDS
A COMMUNITY MASQUE
Of the Art of the Theatre
Devised and Written to Commemorate the
Tercentenary of the Death of
SHAKESPEARE
Illustrations by
Joseph Urban & Robert Edmond Jones


TO . THE . ONLIE
BEGETTER . OF . THE . BEST
IN . THESE . INSUING
SCENES
MASTER . W.s





LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS AND CHARTS
Cover Design: “When the kings of earth clasp
· hands” (Act II, Second Inner Scene). By
Robert Edmond Jones.
Preliminary Sketch of Setebos. By Joseph Urban
Frontispiece
FACING PAGE
Ground Plan for Auditorium (with Stages of
Masque Proper and Interludes). By Joseph
Urban · · · · · · · · · · · XXX
Design of Stage for Masque Proper. By Joseph
Urban . . . . . . . . . . . XXXII
Preliminary Sketch for Seventh Inner Scene. By
Robert Edmond Jones. . . . . . . 98
Preliminary Sketch for Tenth Inner Scene. By
Robert Edmond Jones. . . . . . . 138
154
APPENDIX
Inner Structure of Masque (Chart). By Percy
Mackaye · · · · · ·
·
A Community Masque Audience (Photograph).
By E. O. Thalinger . . . . . . .
Community Masque Organization Plan (Chart).
By Hazel MacKaye . . . . . . .
156
158
292251


PREFACE
Three hundred years alive on the 23rd of April, 1916,
the memory of Shakespeare calls creatively upon a
self-destroying world to do him honor by honoring
that world-constructive art of which he is a master
architect.
Over seas, the choral hymns of cannon acclaim his
death; in battle-trenches artists are turned subtly in-
genious to inter his art; War, Lust, and Death are risen
in power to restore the primeval reign of Setebos.
Here in America, where the neighboring waters of his
"vexed Bermoothes” lie more calm than those about
his own native isle, here only is given some practical
opportunity for his uninterable spirit to create new
splendid symbols for peace through harmonious inter-
national expression.
As one means of serving such expression, and so, if
possible, of paying tribute to that creative spirit in forms
of his own art, I have devised and written this Masque,
at the invitation of the Shakespeare Celebration Com-
mittee of New York City.
The dramatic-symbolic motive of the Masque I have
taken from Shakespeare's own play “The Tempest,”
xiii


xiv
PREFACE
Act I, Scene 2. There, speaking to Ariel, Prospero
says:
“Hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop? . This damn'd witch Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing . was hither brought with child
And there was left by the sailors. Thou ..
Wast then her servant;
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthly and abhorred commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her most potent ministers
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine, within which rift
Imprisoned thou didst painfully remain ..
Then was this island-
Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp hag-born-not honor'd with
A human shape ... that Caliban
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in, . . it was a tormentasi
To lay upon the damn'd . . It was mine art,
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The pine and let thee out.”
"It was mine art” . . There--in Prospero's words
[and Shakespeare's]-is the text of this Masque.


PREFACE
XV
The art of Prospero I have conceived as the art of
Shakespeare in its universal scope: that many-visioned
art of the theatre which, age after age, has come to liber-
ate the imprisoned imagination of mankind from the
fetters of brute force and ignorance; that same art which,
being usurped or stifled by groping part-knowledge,
prudery, or lust, has been botched in its ideal aims and
like fire ill-handled or ill-hidden by a passionate child-
has wrought havoc, hypocrisy, and decadence.
Caliban, then, in this Masque, is that passionate
child-curious part of us all (whether as individuals or as
races), grovelling close to his aboriginal origins, yet
groping up and staggering with almost rhythmic falls
and back-slidings—toward that serener plane of pity and
love, reason and disciplined will, where Miranda and
Prospero commune with Ariel and his Spirits.
In deference to the master-originator of these charac-
ters and their names, it is, I think, incumbent on me to
point out that these four characters, derived—but re-
imagined from Shakespeare's “The Tempest,” be-
come, for the purposes of my Masque, the presiding
symbolic Dramatis Persona of a plot and conflict which
are my own conception. They are thus no longer Shake-
speare's characters of “The Tempest,” though born of
them and bearing their names.
Their words (save for a very few song-snatches and
sentences) and their actions are those which I have given


xvi
PREFACE
them; the development of their characters accords with
the theme--not of Shakespeare's play but of this Masque,
in which Caliban's nature is developed to become the
protagonist of aspiring humanity, not simply its butt of
shame and ridicule.
My conception and treatment also of Setebos (whose
name is but a passing reference in Shakespeare's play],
the fanged idol (substituted by me for the "cloven pine”];
of Sycorax, as Setebos' mate (in form a super-puppet, an
earth-spirit rather than "witch”), from both of whom
Caliban has sprung; of the Shakespearian Inner Scenes,
as brief-flashing visions in the mind of Prospero; of the
“Yellow Sands” as his magic isle, the world; these are
not liberties taken with text or characters of Shakespeare;
they are simply the means of dramatic license whereby
my Masque aims to accord its theme with the art and
spirit of Shakespeare.
Shakespeare's own characters, that use his words?
in scenes of his plays, have then no part in my Masque,
except in the Inner Scenes,” where they are conceived as
being conjured by Prospero and enacted by the Spirits of
Ariel.
The words of Shakespeare used in this Masque, are quoted from the
Tudor Edition of Shakespeare's Works, edited by Neilson and Thorn-
dike (Macmillan). The stage directions and cuts, however, are not taken
from any edition, but have been made by me for purposes of the Inner
Scenes.
In this book these Inner Scenes are printed in black-faced type.


PREFACE
xvii
The theme of the Masque-Caliban seeking to learn
the art of Prospero-is, of course, the slow education of
mankind through the influences of coöperative art, that
is, of the art of the theatre in its full social scope. This
theme of coöperation is expressed earliest in the Masque
through the lyric of Ariel's Spirits taken from “The
Tempest”; it is sounded, with central stress, in the
chorus of peace when the kings clasp hands on the Field
of the Cloth of Gold; and, with final emphasis, in the
gathering together of the creative forces of dramatic art in
the Epilogue. Thus its motto is the one printed on the
title page, in Shakespeare's words:
“Come unto these yellow sands
And then take hands.”
So much for my Masque in its relationship to Shake-
speare's work and his art. Its contribution to the
modern development of a form of dramatic art unprac-
tised by him requires some brief comment.
This work is not a pageant, in the sense that the
festivals excellently devised by Mr. Louis N. Parker in
England, Mr. Lascelles in Canada, or Mr. Thomas
Wood Stevens in America have been called pageants.
Though of necessity it involves aspects of pageantry, its
form is more closely related to the forms of Greek drama
This is the motive of Mr. Robert Edmond Jones' cover design for
this volume.


xviii
PREFACE
and of opera. Yet it is neither of these. It is a new
form to meet new needs.
I have called this work a Masque, because like other
works so named in the past—it is a dramatic work of
symbolism involving, in its structure, pageantry, poetry,
and the dance. Yet I have by no means sought to relate
its structure to an historic form; I have simply sought
by its structure to solve a modern (and a future) problem
of the art of the theatre. “That problem is the new one of
creating a focussed dramatic technique for the growing
but groping movement vaguely called "pageantry,”
which is itself a vital sign of social evolution—the half-
desire of the people not merely to remain receptive to a
popular art created by specialists, but to take part
themselves in creating it; the desire, that is, of democracy
consistently to seek expression through a drama of and by
the people, not merely for the people.
For some ten years that potential drama of democracy
has interested me as a fascinating goal for both dramatist
and citizen, in seeking solution for the vast problem of
leisure. Two years ago at Saint Louis I had my first
technical opportunity, on a large scale, to experiment in
devising a dramatic structure for its many-sided require-
1An outline of suggestions on this subject I published in a volume,
“The Civic Theatre, in Relation to the Redemption of Leisure" (1912).
Further ideas and their applications are contained in the prefaces and
dramatic texts of my Bird Masque “Sanctuary,” “Saint Louis: A
Civic Masque,” and “The New Citizenship,” a Civic Ritual.


PREFACE
xix
ments. There, during five performances, witnessed by
half a million people, about seven thousand citizens of
Saint Louis took part in my Masque (in association with
the Pageant by Thomas Wood Stevens). In the appen-
dix of this volume a photograph gives a suggestion of one
of those audiences, gathered in their public park (in seats
half of which were free, half pay-seats] to witness the
production. 1
That production was truly a drama of, for, and by the
people-a true Community Masque; and it was largely
with the thought of that successful civic precedent that
the Shakespeare Celebration first looked to Central
Park as the appropriate site to produce their Community
Festival, the present Masque, as the central popular
expression of some hundreds of supplementary Shake-
spearean celebrations. .
In so doing, they conceived the function of a public
park-as it is conceived almost universally west of the
Eastern States, and almost everywhere in Europe—to
be that of providing outdoor space for the people's
expression in civic art-forms.
The sincere opposition of a portion of the community
to this use of Central Park would never, I think, have
arisen, if New York could have taken counsel with Saint
1 The outgoing cost of the Saint Louis production was $122,000;
the income $139,000. The balance of $17,000 has been devoted to a
fund for civic art. The cost of producing a single play by Sophocles
at Athens was $500,000.


XX
PREFACE
Louis's experience, and its wonderfully happy civic and
social reactions. The opposition, however, was strong
and conscientious; so that, on the same principle of
community solidarity which was the raison d'etre for
their informal application to use Central Park, the
Shakespeare Celebration withdrew their wish to use it.
To split community feeling by acrimonious discussion
was contrary to the basic idea and function of the Cele-
bration, which are to help unite all classes and all beliefs
in a great coöperative movement for civic expression
through dramatic art.
One very important public service, however, was per-
formed by this Central Park discussion; it served clearly
to point out a colossal lack in the democratic equipment
of the largest and richest metropolis of the western
hemisphere: namely, the total lack of any public place
of meeting, where representative numbers of New York
citizens can unite in seeing, hearing, and taking part in a
festival or civic communion of their own. New York, a
city of five million inhabitants, possesses no public
stadium or community theatre. Little Athens, a mere
village in comparison, had for its heart such a community
theatre, which became the heart of civilization. Without
such an instrument, our own democracy cannot hope to
develop that coöperative art which is the expression of
true civilization in all ages.
Happily for the Shakespeare Celebration and its aims,


PREFACE
xxi
a large measure of solution has, at the date of this preface,
been attained by the gracious offer of the New York City
College authorities, through President Mezes, to permit
the use of the Lewisohn Stadium and athletic field,
temporarily to be converted into a sort of miniature Yale
Bowl, for the production of the Shakespeare Masque
on the night of May 23rd and the following four
nights.
By the brilliant conception and technical plans of Mr.
Joseph Urban for joining to the present concrete stadium
of Mr. Arnold Brunner its duplicate in wood, on the east
side of the field, and so placing the stage on its narrower
width to the north, there will be created a practical out-
door theatre, remarkable in acoustics, qualified to accom-
modate in excellent seats about twenty thousand spec-
tators, and some two or three thousand participants in
the festival.
If such a consummation shall eventually become per-
manent there, it will complete the realization of a prac-
ticable dream already rendered partly complete by Mr.
Adolf Lewisohn's public-spirited donation of the present
concrete structure. Referring to that practicable dream,
I wrote four years ago in my volume “The Civic Thea-
tre”:1 “One day last spring, traversing with President
John Finley the grounds lately appropriated, through his
fine efforts, by the City of New York for a great stadium at
1Page 71, on Constructive Leisure (Mitchell Kennerley, 1912).


xxii
PREFACE
the City College, I discussed with him the splendid op-
portunity there presented for focussing the popular en-
thusiasm toward athletic games in an art dramatic and
nobly spectacular."
This new dramatic art-form, then-a technique of the
theatre adapted to democratic expression and dedicated
to public service I have called by the name Community
Masque, and have sought to exemplify it on a large scale
in two instances, at Saint Louis and at New York.
The occasion of this preface is not one to discuss the
details of that new technique further than to suggest to
the public, and to those critics who might be interested
to makeits implications clearer than the author and direc-
tor of a production has time or opportunity to do, that
the exacting time limits of presenting dramatically a
theme involving many dissociated ages, through many
hundreds of symbolic participants and leaders, are con-
ditions which themselves impel the imagination toward
creating a technique as architectural as music, as color-
ful as the pageant, as dramatic as the play, as plastic as
the dance.
That my own work has attained to such a technique
I am very far from supposing. I have, however, clearly
seen the need for attaining to it, whatever the difficulties,
if a great opportunity for democracy is not to be lost.
To see that much, at a time when the vagueness of ama-
teurs, however idealistic in desire, is obscuring the aus-


xxiv
PREFACE
moving picture, though with a different appeal to the
imagination.
Because of this only relative value of the spoken word,
there are many producers (theoretical and practical] who
believe that the spoken word should be eliminated en-
tirely from this special art of the theatre.
Artists as eminent and constructive in ideas as Gordon
Craig, and many whom his genius has inspired, advocate
indeed this total elimination of speech from the theatre's
art as a whole. For them that art ideally is the com-
pound of only light and music and movement. The
reason for this, I think, is because the sensibility of those
artists is preëminently visual. Moreover, they are rela-
tively inexpert, as artists, in the knowledge of the
technique and values of the spoken word. Being visu-
ally expert and creative, they have, by their practical
genius, established a world-wide school of independent
visual art (assisted only by mass sounds of music).
For them this art has well nigh become the art of the
theatre. Yet it is not so, I think, and can never be so,
to that watching and listening sensibility for which all
dramatic art is created—the soul of the audience. That
soul, our soul, is a composite flowering of all the senses,
and the life-long record of the spoken word (reiterated
from childhood) is an integral, yes, the most intimate,
element of our consciousness.
The association of ideas and emotions which only the


PREFACE
XXV
spoken word can evoke is, therefore, a dramatic value
which the art of the theatre cannot consistently ignore.
It is chiefly because those artist-experts in word values,
the poets, who might contribute their special technique
to the theatre's art, turn elsewhere creatively, that the
field is left unchallenged and open to the gifted school of
the visualists. The true dramatic art—which involves
ideally a total coöperation does not, and cannot, ex-
clude the poet-dramatist. Shakespeare and Sophocles
lived before electric light; if they had lived after, they
would have set a different pace for Bakst and Reinhardt,
and established a creative school more nobly poised in
technique, more deeply human in appeal.
Now, therefore, when the poets are awaking to a new
power and control of expression, here especially in our
own country, if they will both learn and teach in this
larger school, there rises before us the promise of an art
more sensuous, sane, and communal than the theatre has
ever known.
So, in the pioneering adventure of this Masque, which
seeks by experiment to relate the spoken word to its
larger coöperation with the visual arts, I have devised
a structure in which the English language, spoken by
actors, is an essential dramatic value.
Why, then, take pains (as I have done] to make it rela-
tively non-essential in case it should not be heard?
For this reason: that now-at the present temporary


XXvi
PREFACE
and still groping stage of development of community
Masque organization and production—there can be, in
the nature of the case, no complete assurance beforehand
of adequate acoustics in setting, or of voices trained to
large-scale outdoor speech.
But, if this be so, would it not be the wiser part of
creative valor to adapt my structure wholly to these ele-
mentary conditions, risk nothing, and devise simply panto-
mime?
No, for by that principle no forward step for the spoken
word could ever be taken. If we are to progress in this
new art, we must seek to make producing conditions con-
form to the spoken play, even more than the play to those
conditions.
And this can be done; it has been done.
At Saint Louis the vast amphitheatre for my Masque
was at first considered, by nearly all who saw it, to be
utterly unsuited to the spoken word; yet, after careful
study, experiment and technical provision for its use, the
speech of actors was heard each night by at least two-
710. mne thirds of the hundred and fifty thousand listeners. Of the
d whoseven thousand actors only about fifteen spoke, but these
conveyed the spoken symbolism and drama of the action.
In the present Masque I have focussed the spoken
word on the raised constructed stage of wood (A. and B.
in the Chart], confined it to the speech of eight principal
acting parts, and about twenty other subordinate parts,
some
ke
old he hea. Coor


PREFACE
xxvii
whose speaking lines [from Shakespeare's plays) are
still further focussed at the narrower inner stage (A. in
the Chart), provided with special sounding boards.
On the other hand, for the ground-circle of the “Yellow
Sands” [C. in the Chart], where the thousands of partici-
pants in the Interludes take part under an open sky, I
have provided no spoken words, but only pantomime,
mass movements, dances and choruses.
To the reader, then, I would repeat, that the words of
this printed Masque are an essential, though not an ex-
clusive, part of its structure, and are meant primarily to
be spoken, not primarily to be read.
As in the case of my Civic Ritual “The New Citizen-
ship"l this Masque can only have its completely ade-
quate production on a large and elaborate scale. Like
the Civic Ritual, however, which-originally designed
for the New York stadium-is being performed on an
.. adapted scale in many parts of the country, in schools
and elsewhere, this Masque may perhaps serve some good
purpose in being made available for performance in a
smaller, simpler manner, adapted to the purposes of
festivals during this year of Shakespeare's Tercentenary.
At the invitation, therefore, of Mr. Percival Chubb,
President of the Drama League of America, who first
suggested to me the writing of a Memorial Masque to
Shakespeare, the publishers have made arrangements
'New York, 1915, Macmillan.
e
rr


xxviii
PREFACE
with officers of the Drama League for making known its
availability as stated in their announcement printed at
the back of this volume.
The accompanying stage-designs are the work of Mr.
Joseph Urban, the eminent Viennese artist and producer
(who has recently become an American), and of Mr.
Robert Edmond Jones, designer of the scenes and cos-
tumes for Mr. Granville Barker's production of “The
Man Who Married a Dumb Wife.”
At the date of this preface, Mr. Arthur Farwell has near-
ly completed his compositions for the lyric choruses and
incidental music of the Masque. The choruses will shortly
be made available, published by G. Schirmer, New York.
With all three of these artists I am fortunate in
being associated in preparations for the Masque's New
York production next May.
These preparations have met with many complex
difficulties of launching and organization; the time re-
maining is very brief to accomplish the many-sided
community task for which the Masque is designed; only
the merest beginnings of so vast a movement can be at-
tempted; but, with coöperation and support from those
who believe in that task, the producers look forward
hopefully to serving, in some pioneering degree, the great
cause of community expression through the art of the
theatre.
PERCY MACKAYE.
New York, February 22, 1916.



DOD mm
MASQUE STRUCTURE
THE ACTION
The action takes place, symbolically, on three planes: (1) in the cave
of Sebetos [before and after its transformation into the theatre of Pros-
pero); [2] in the mind of Prospero [behind the Cloudy Curtains of the
inner stage); and (3] on the ground-circle of “the Yellow Sands” (the
place of historic time).
THE TIME
The Masque Proper is concerned, symbolically, with no literal period
of time, but with the waxing and waning of the life of dramatic art (and
its concomitant, civilization) from primitive barbaric times to the verge
of the living present.
The Interludes are concerned with ritualistic glimpses of the art of the
theatre (in its widest, communal scope) during three historical periods:
(1) Antiquity, (2) the Middle Ages, and (3) Elizabethan England.
The Epilogue is concerned with the creative forces of dramatic art
from antiquity to the present, and-by suggestion-with the future of
those forces.
THE SETTING
The setting of the entire Masque is architectural and scenic, not a
background of natural landscape as in the case of most outdoor pageants.
Being constructed technically for performance, on a large scale, by night
only, its basic appeals are to the eye, through expert illusions of light
and darkness, architectural and plastic line, the dance, color, and pag-
eantry of group movements; to the ear, through invisible choirs and
xxix


XXX
MASQUE STRUCTURE
orchestra, stage instrumental music and voices of visible mass-choruses
(in the Interludes only).
As indicated by the accompanying diagram (Time Chart]* of its Inner
Structure, the Masque Proper is enacted by a comparatively few (about
thirty) professional actors, who use the spoken word to motivate the large-
scale pantomime of their action; the Interludes (which use no spoken
word, but only dance, pageantry, miming, and choruses) are performed
by community participants (to the number of thousands); the Epilogue
utilizes both kinds of performers.
Corresponding to this Inner Structure, the Outer Structure consists
of three architectural planes or acting stages (all interdependent): (1)
a modified form of Elizabethan stage, (here called “the Middle Stage
B”) consisting of a raised platform (to which steps lead up from a ground-
circle, eight feet below] provided with a smaller, curtained Inner Stage
(A—under a balcony, on which the upper visions appear, and above which
the concealed orchestra and choirs are located). This Inner Stage is two
feet higher than the Middle Stage, from which ramps lead up to it.
Shutting it off from the other, its “Cloudy Curtains," when closed, meet
at the centre; when they are open, the inner Shakespearean scenes
(visions in the mind of Prospero) are then revealed within.
Between the raised Middle Stage and the audience lies the Ground-
Circle-in form like the “orchestra” of a Greek theatre. Here the com-
munity Interludes take place around a low central Altar, from which
rises a great hour-glass, flowing with luminous sands. This ground-
circle is the place of the Yellow Sands, the outer wave-lines of which are
bordered by the deep blue of the space beyond. The circle itself, repre-
senting the magic isle of Prospero (the temporal place of his art), is
mottled with shadowy contours of the continents of the world.
Beneath the middle stage, and between the broad spaces of the steps
which lead up to it from the ground-circle, is situated, at centre, the
mouth of Caliban's cell, which thus opens directly upon the Yellow
Sands.
All of these features of the setting, however, are invisible when the
Masque begins, and are only revealed as the lightings of the action dis-
close them.
*See Appendix, page 154.



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OF SHAKESPEARE: MASQUE
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C. OUTER STAGE. Ion-THE-YELLOW SANDS)
SHAKESPEARE-SCENES DACTION OF MASQUE PROPER ACTION OF INTERLUDES.





PERSONS AND PRESENCES
I. OF THE MASQUE PROPER 1
SPEAKING PERSONS
ARIEL
SYCORAX
CALIBAN
PROSPERO
MIRANDA
LUST
DEATH
WAR
CALIGULA (Impersonated by Lust]
ONE IN GRAY (Impersonated by Death]
ANOTHER IN GRAY (Impersonated by Caliban)
MUTE PRESENCES
SETEBOS3
CHORAL PRESENCES
SPIRITS OF ARIEL
POWERS OF SETEBOS
PANTOMIME GROUPS
LUST GROUP
DEATH GROUP
WAR GROUP
Impersonated by the Powers of Setebos
ROMAN GROUP
THE ONES IN GRAY
TRANSFORMATION CHOIR
GREGORIAN CHOIR Impersonated by the Spirits of Ariel
THE ONES IN GREEN
THE NINE MUSES
RENAISSANCE FAUNS
"The Masque Proper consists of the Prologue and Three Acts, without the Inner
Scenes and the Epilogue and Interludes.
2 Visualized by a Super-puppet.
* Visualized by an idol.
xxxi


xxxii
PERSONS AND PRESENCES
II. OF THE TEN INNER-STAGE SCENES
. (Enacted by the Spirits of Ariel.]
SEE APPENDIX: Pages 159-161.
Of these scenes eight are spoken scenes taken from plays of Shakespeare; one
(the sixth) is a pantomime devised from a descriptive speech in "Henry
the Eighth,” Act I, Scene I; one (the fourth) is a tableau scene symbolic of the
early Christian Church. Those taken from Shakespeare are printed in black-faced
type.
III. OF THE INTERLUDES
SEE APPENDIX: Pages 162, 166, 172, 184, 187, 190, 195.
IV. OF THE EPILOGUE
SPEAKING PERSONS
THE SPIRIT OF TIME
SHAKESPEARE (as Prospero]
PANTOMIME GROUPS*
THEATRES (with Musicians, Dancers, Designers, Producers, Inventors
etc.: Creators of the art of the theatre]
ACTORS
DRAMATISTS
SPIRIT TRUMPETERS (Announcers of the Groups]
*See Appendix: Pages 207-216.



STAGE FOR SHAKESPEAREMASQUE
NewYOR
BEHIND THE CLOUDY CURTAINS IS STAGE A OF INNER SCENES (SEE GROUND PLAN)
IN FRONT OF THE CURTAINS IS STAGE B OF MASQUE PROPER (SEE GROUND PLAN)
AT CENTRE, CALIBAN'S CELL OPENS UPON STAGE C OF INTERLUDES (SEE GROUND PLAN)


caccco
cere
ز
في
نيل


CALIBAN





CALIBAN
PROLOGUE
The action begins in semi-darkness, out of which
sound invisible choirs.
The scene is the cave of SETEBOS, whose stark-
colored idol-half tiger and half toad-colossal and
primitive-rises at centre above a stone altar.
On the right, the cave leads inward to the abode of
SYCORAX; on the left, it leads outward to the sea, a
blue-green glimpse of which is vaguely visible.
High in the tiger-jaws of the idol, ARIEL-a slim,
winged figure, half nude-is held fettered.
In the dimness, he listens to deep-bеllowing choirs
from below, answered by a chorus of sweet shrill voices
from within.
THE VOICES FROM BELOW
[Sing.)
Setebos! Setebos!
THE VOICES FROM WITHIN
(Sing.)
Ariel!


CALIBAN
ARIEL
[Calls aloud.]
O, my brave spirits!
THE VOICES FROM BELOW
Setebos ! Şetebos !
Over us which art, and under:
Fang of fire
From mouth of thunder !
Hungering goad
From belly of mire!
Tiger and toad-
Setebos!
Blood which art on the jungle bloom,
Sloth and slumber and seed in the womb:
Which art wondrous
Over and under us,
Setebos ! Setebos! Thou art Setebos !
THE VOICES FROM WITHIN
Sealed in a starless cell,
We are shut from dawn and sky.
Ariel !-Ariel !
Why?
ARIEL
Setebos knows, but his jaws
Fetter me fast: he is dumb-
Answering never.


CALIBAN
THE VOICES FROM WITHIN
We, who parch for dew and star-
Ariel !-Ariel !-
Must we perish where we are?
Tell !
ARIEL
Sycorax knows, but she sits
There in the cave with her son-
Mocking us ever.
THE VOICES FROM WITHIN
Ariel !
ARIEL
Call me no more,
Lest they torment us. I hear them
Coming now.
THE VOICE OF SYCORAX
Caliban!
ARIEL
Hush!
(Gigantic, the twisted form of SYCORAX looms from
within the rock.]
SYCORAX
(Calling toward the sea.]
Come, fish-fowl! Leave thy flapping in the mud


CALIBAN
And keep thy father's temple. Call his priests.
Thy father Toad's a god, hath double teeth
In his two heads. The Tiger loins of him
Begot thee in my belly for a cub
To lick his paws and purr, else he may pinch thee
Behind an eye-tooth, like yon flitter mouse
That hangs there wriggling.
THE VOICE OF CALIBAN
So, so Sycorax!--
Coming!
SYCORAX
Aye, so so: crawling still!
[Malformed and hissing, CALIBAN enters on his belly
and arms.]
CALIBAN
Syc-Syco-
Sycorax! See!
SYCORAX
What hast thou got thee? .
CALIBAN
(Laughs, half rising, and holds up a wriggling crea-
ture.]
Got
A little god—a little Caliban.


CALIBAN
m
Ha!-make him out of mud. See: Squeezed it
round
And slipped him through my fist-hole. Am a god:
[Rising.)
See Sycorax-her grandchild!
SYCORAX
'Tis an eel-worm.
Fling him to the white bat yonder.
[Her form vanishes in the rock.]
CALIBAN
[Approaching the idol.]
Ariel,
Here's food for thee: a wormling for thy beak.
So, my trapped bird:—How sayst, ha?
ARIEL
(Sings.]
“Where the bee sucks there suck 1.".
CALIBAN
(Laughing.)
Bee, sayst thou?
Still buzzest of thy wings, and eatest-air!
ARIEL
[Sings.]
“In a cowslip's bell I lie."


CALIBAN
CALIBAN
My father's gullet is no cowslip's bell.
Shalt lie in the belly of Setebos.
[Tossing away the eel.]
-What waitest for?
ARIEL
I am waiting for one who will come.
CALIBAN
Aye? Who will come?
ARIEL
One from the heart of the world, and he shall rise
On tempest of music and in thunder of song.
CALIBAN
[Gaping.)
Thunder and tempest-so!
ARIEL
(With ecstasy.]
I see him now.
CALIBAN
[Crouching back.]
See him! Where, now?


CALIBAN
ARIEL
In my dream:—He bears
A star-wrought staff and hooded cloak of blue,
And on his right hand burns the sun, and on
His left, the moon; and these he makes his masks
Of joy and sorrow.
CALIBAN
Where? Mine eye seeth naught.
ARIEL
Before him comes a maid—a child, all wonder-
And leads him to this blighted isle.
CALIBAN
What for, here?
ARIEL
To set me free, and all my air-born spirits
Whom Setebos holds prisoned in this earth.
CALIBAN
Free? What's that-free?
ARIEL
What thou canst never be
Who never shalt dance with us by yellow sands.


CALIBAN
II
Ho, Caliban can squash their music. Free?
Aren't I a god, bitch-born, the son of Setebos
Can howl all hell up? Worship me, thou wings!
Praise my toad-father in his temple!
Id
ARIEL
The priests
Of Setebos are Lust and Death and War.
Not Ariel-nor Ariel's Spirits ever-
Shall do them honor. One shall come hereafter
Whom we now worship, waiting.
CALIBAN
(Roaring.)
. Sycorax!
SYCORAX
[Reappearing.)
Swallow thy croakings, bullfrog. Call the priests,
And fill this spirit's nostrils with the reek
Of Setebos, his blood-rites.
THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL
[Cry out piercingly.]
Ariel!
ARIEL
Peace, my brave hearts! Be dumb—but still be
dreaming!


12
CALIBAN
CALIBAN
Powers of Setebos!—Lust, Death, War,-ho, now!
Hither, and do my father worship!
ARIEL
[Stifling a cry.]
Ah!
[Enter LUST, DEATH, and WAR, arrayed as priests
of Setebos.]
SYCORAX
[To Caliban.]
Come, toad-boy: watch with me, within.
CALIBAN
[Going within the cave, as Sycorax disappears.]
Free, saith?
Will dance by yellow sands?—Now, Spirit, dance!
(As Caliban goes within the powers of Setebos come forth.
At the altar beneath Ariel, the three Priests lead
them in ceremonial rites of primeval pageantry
and dance—the sacrificial worship of Setebos.
Above them Ariel suffers, with closed eyes. In
their rites, Lust pours his libation, and lights the
altar fire, which—when War has made there his
living sacrifice-Death extinguishes in darkness.
Through the dark, which gradually changes to a
glowing dusk, Ariel speaks aloud.]


CALIBAN
ARIEL
O Spirits, I have dreamed, but Death has closed
My sight in darkness. Spirits, I have begotten
Sweet Joy, but Lust hath drowned her in his wine.
Yea, I have wove Love wings, but War hath robbed
them
And riven his lovely body all alive
To feed the hungering flames of Setebos.
My Spirits, I your master am unmastered.
Speak to me! Comfort me! Is there no joy,
No love, no dream, that shall survive this dark?
Hath this our isle no king but Caliban?
Are there no yellow sands where we shall dance
To greet the master of a timeless dawn?
Or must there break no morning?—Ah, you are dumb
Still to my doubtings. Yet the dark grows pale,
And, paling, pulses now with rosier shadows;
And now the shadows tremble, and draw back
Their trailing glories: hark! All little birds
Wake in the gloaming: look! What young Aurora
Walks in the dusk below, and like a child
Turns her quick face to listen?—Ah!
(Below, against the light from the sea, has entered the
dim Figure he descries.]
THE FIGURE
Who calls?


CALIBAN
ARIEL
Spirits, 'tis she! O, we have dreamed her true
At last-Miranda!
SPIRITS OF ARIEL
[Call, in echoing song.]
Miranda !
MIRANDA
[Searching with her eyes.]
Earth and air
Echo my name. Who calls me?
ARIEL
Ariel.
SPIRITS OF ARIEL
(As before.]
Ariel!
MIRANDA
Light and dark spin webs around me.
What art thou, voice and where?
ARIEL
Here--and your servant.
MIRANDA
[Beholding him.]
O me!-poor Spirit !-What mouth so terrible
Utters a voice so tender?


CALIBAN
ARIEL
Setebos,
God of this isle, holds me in 's fangs.
MIRANDA
But why?
ARIEL
I will not serve him.
MIRANDA
[Naïvely, drawing nearer to the huge idol.]
Setebos, be kind.
Release this Spirit.
ARIEL
He hath nor ears, nor eyes,
Nor any sense to know thee by, but only
These tusks and claws and his toad-belly.
MIRANDA
Dost
Thou suffer, so?
ARIEL
Not now.
MIRANDA
And hath he held thee
Long captive?


ro
CALIBAN
ARIEL
Since old ocean's slime first spawned
Under the moon, I have awaited thee
And him thou bringest here.
MIRANDA
You mean my father,
Prospero.
ARIEL
[Exultingly.]
Hail him, Spirits!
SPIRITS OF ARIEL
[Sing.)
Prospero !
MIRANDA
Yea, many a starry journey we have made
Searching this isle. At last to-day, at dawn,
I saw its yellow sands, and heard thy voice
Calling for pity. Now my father is come
And shall release thee.
ARIEL
Where? Where is he?
MIRANDA
Here:
His cloak is round us now: he holds us now


TX
CALIBAN
CALIBAN
Hurt?
Who hurteth God? Am seed of Setebos:
Am Caliban: the world is all mine isle:
Kill what I please, and play with what I please;
So, yonder, play with him: pull out his wings
And put 'em back to grow.—Where be thy wings,
Spring-i-the-air?
MIRANDA
O Ariel, is this sight
A true thing, and speaks truly?
ARIEL
What you hear
And see-'tis my master.
MIRANDA
'Tis so wonderful
I know not how to be sad.
CALIBAN
[In puzzled fascination, staring at Miranda.]
The moon hath a face
And smileth on the lily pools, but hath
No lily body withal: thy body is
All lilies and the smell of lily buds,
And thy round face a pool of moonbeams!


CALIBAN
MIRANDA
(With smile and laughter.]
Nay,
Then look not in, lest thou eclipse the moon.
CALIBAN
Syc-Sycorax hath no such laughing: soundeth.
Like little leaves i' the rain! Hath no such mouth
Bright-lipp'd with berries ripe to suck i' the sun-
Sycorax.
MIRANDA
Who is Sycorax?
ARIEL
Ah, pain!
CALIBAN
Ho, she that hath calved Caliban to the bull
Setebos, my blood-sire. [Pauses at a glowing thought,
then cries with sudden exultance:) So shall us twain
Caliban all this world!
(He crouches, then rolls over at her feet.]
-Laugh, Spring-i'-the-air!
Lift so thy lily-pad foot and rub his ear
Where the fur tickleth, and let thy Caliban
Tongue-lick its palm.
(He lies, dog-like, on his back, and laughs loud.]


CALIBAN
MIRANDA
This wonder grows too wild.
ARIEL
Go, go! O flee away!
CALIBAN
[Leaping up.]
Away?-Aye, so!
(He approaches Miranda, who recoils, half fearful.]
Wist where salt water lappeth warm i' the noon
And shore-fish breed i' the shoals.-Wist where the
sea-bull
Flap-flappeth his fin and walloweth there his cow
And snoreth the rainbow from his nostrils.
(He begins to dance grotesquely about her.]
Ho,
Spring-i'-the-air! shalt leap, shalt roll in the sun,
Shalt dance with lily-warm limbs, shalt race wi' the
gulls!
Shalt laugh, and call–Come, Come!
Come, come, Caliban!
Catcheth who catcheth can!
Mateth mew, mateth man:
Catch, come, Caliban!
ARIEL
O Setebos, let me go free!


CALIBAN
21
MIRANDA
[To Caliban.]
Peace! Dance no more.
Go hence, and leave me.
CALIBAN
(Staring.]
Hence? Aye, both-us twain.
MIRANDA
[With simple command.]
Nay, thou alone.
CALIBAN
[With narrowing eyes, draws nearer.]
Saith what?
MIRANDA
[Unafraid.]
Go from me.
CALIBAN
[Stops, with a hissing growl.]
Syc-
Syc-Sycorax! Sycorax!
SYCORAX
(Reappearing.]
Mole in the mire, wilt squeak
When thou art trod on?-Bite! Bite, Setebos' son!
Let the brave wonder breed of thee.
Tax


22
CALIBAN
CALIBAN
Aye, mother.
[With rising passion—to Miranda.]
A child! Shalt bear me such as thou, with head
Of Caliban: no eel-worm, nay—a wonder,
With lily feet, that walk. Ho, Setebos!
SYCORAX
Setebos! Mate them at thine altar.
MIRANDA
[Fleeing from Caliban, pauses in terror of Sycorax.]
Save me!
POWERS OF SETEBOS
(Sing within.]
Setebos! Setebos!
CALIBAN
[Rushing toward Miranda.]
Mine!
MIRANDA
Save me, father!
ARIEL
[Calling shrilly.]
Prospero!


CALIBAN
SPIRITS OF ARIEL
[Sing within.]
Prospero! Hail!
[A clap of thunder strikes, rolling, in sudden dark-
ness. Lightnings burst from the idol of Setebos.
From the flashing gloom, choruses of contending
spirits commingle the roar of their deep bass and
high-pitched choirs.]
SPIRITS OF ARIEL
Prospero! Prospero!
Out of our earth-pain
Raise and array us
In splendor of order!
Pour on our chaos-
Prospero! Prospero ! -
Peace to our earth-pain!
POWERS OF SETEBOS
Setebos! Setebos !
Lord of our earth-bane,
Loose on his wrath way
The beast of thy jungle!
Pour on our pathway-.
Setebos! Setebos !
Blood for thine earth-bane !
(Amid the tempestuous song, darkness, and thunder,
appears on the left a glowing, winged throne. On


CALIBAN
ARIEL
O set me free to be thy servant ever.
Master, I promise!
PROSPERO
Fly! Run free!-Unfang him,
Setebos!
[Prospero raises his staff.
Slowly the tiger-jaws of the Idol open their fangs.
Ariel, with a joyous cry, slips into the air, and
as he floats fluttering to the earth—his unseen
choir of Spirits sing with shrilly gladness:]
SPIRITS OF ARIEL
Prospero! Prospero! Hail !
ARIEL
[Dancing on the earth.]
Free! Free!
MIRANDA
[Eagerly.]
O, now his fettered Spirits: Free them too!
PROSPERO
Well urged, my own Miranda. Setebos,
Disgorge these long-embowelled choirs!—Spirits,
Come forth!
[Again Prospero raises his staff.
Yawning enormous, the toad-mouth of the Idol, filled
with green and blue light, widens to a lurid aperture


28
CALIBAN
out of which come forth-dancing—the star-bright
Spirits of Ariel.
As they come, Ariel-springing toward Caliban-cries
exultingly:]
ARIEL
Now, Caliban, we dance by yellow sands!
[Singing as they rush forth, the Spirits dart with Ariel
swiftly about the grovelling Caliban and chase him,
dodging and whining, down the steps to the ground-
circle, mottled with its shadowy continents of the
world, and rimmed with its long, yellow wave-lines.]
SPIRITS OF ARIEL
“Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Courtsied when you have and kiss'd
The wild waves whist.
Foot it featly here and there
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear:
Hark, hark!
Bow-wow !
The watch-dogs bark:
Bow-wow !
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry: cock-a-diddle-dow!"!
[Encircling Caliban in their dance, and pelting him with
bright handfuls of the yellow sands, they tease and


CALIBAN
29
drive him howling into his cave cell, where his dark,
monstrous shape silhouettes for a moment on the
orange-red glow, then vanishes within.
As he disappears, to their last “Bow-wow!"
and “Cock-a-diddle-dow !”, they hasten back above
to Ariel, who leads them before Prospero.]
ARIEL
The beast is routed, Master. Was 't well done?
PROSPERO
The routed beast-returns. I charge thee, Spirit,
Not to torment, but teach him-for which task
Thou wilt require mine art. So by its power
We will transform this cave of Setebos
To be a temple to Miranda. Now
Let these thy Spirits lead her to her shrine
Yonder, where all her maiden Muses wait
To make her welcome.
(Prospero points to where, on the right, appears Mi-
randa's shrine. From its portals come forth the
Nine Muses, bearing lutes and pipes. Prospero,
turning to Miranda, rises and gives her into Ariel's
care.]
Child, go with them now
And tarry till I summon.


30
CALIBAN
MIRANDA
Sir, I will.
I thank you and these Spirits, and may we all
Be saved from Setebos.
ARIEL
Sweet Mistress, follow!
[To a melodious luting and piping played by the
Muses, Ariel and his Spirits escort Miranda to the
centre, where the Muses meet and conduct her into
the shrine, while Ariel's Spirits—at a gesture from
him-dart through the centre of the Cloudy Cur-
tains and disappear.]
PROSPERO
(Calling.]
Now hither, bird, and perch!
ARIEL
[Running to him, on the throne.]
Beside you, Master!
PROSPERO
[Pointing to the ground-circle.]
Seest yonder Yellow Sands? There sleep the shores,
The cloudy capes and continents of time;
There wane and wax eternal tides, that mark
The ebb and flow of empires with their foam.
There shalt thou see the million-colored skein'


CALIBAN
Whereof I weave mine art. Look well and learn!
For this my art is of no only land
Or age, but born of all-itself a world
Snatched from the womb of History, to survive
Its mortal mother in imagination.-
Dost thou attend me?
ARIEL
Word and will, dear Master!
[At the mouth of Caliban's cell are now visible Lust,
Death, and War, who in pantomime indicate to
Caliban their conspiracy against Prospero and
Ariel.]
PROSPERO
'Tis well, for thou must prove my pupil. Look!
Even now the priests of Setebos conspire
With Caliban against us. They will compass
My fall, Miranda's ruin, and thy bondage
Unless mine art can foil them. Therefore, now
Thou shalt behold the pageant of mine art
Pace from antiquity. First, while yon glass
Lets flow its yellow sands, behold appear
My rites of ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome,
And, while they pass, I will instruct thee how
To use them.-Pageant, appear!
[A deep gong sounds.] ,
Lo, Egypt comes!


FIRST INTERLUDE*
Now in succession through the great gates of the
ground-circle, in colorful incursions of costume and
music, appear three main pageant groups, that perform
-with distinctive artistry of dance, pantomime, mass
movement, and choral song—three ritual episodes of the
dramatic art of antiquity. The nature of each, by a
few brief sentences, Prospero expounds to Ariel, and so
to the audience. Concluding, each group of the first
two departs from the circle.
The first Action—a symbolic ritual of Egypt-enters
in seven separate processions, which converge at the centre
in worship of the golden god Osiris.
The second group-expressing the noble zenith of
Greek dramatic art—chants, with aspiring, athletic
dance, the second chorus of the Antigone of Sophocles,
celebrating the splendor of man. This Action is per-
formed by the altar.
With the third enters a contrasted decadence of the
theatre's art with the Roman Mimes, who enact a farcica!!
*The more detailed description of this Interlude is given in the Ap-
pendix, pages 162 to 183.
32 .


CALIBAN
33
Comedy in Masks, in presence of the emperor Caligula
and the Roman populace. Concluding, this Roman
group does not depart, but retiring into partial shadow
on the right, awaits there its later summons.


ACT I
[As the Roman Interlude closes, the light passes from
the ground-circle to the middle stage, where Pros-
pero-descending his throne with Ariel-moves
toward the centre. While they speak together there,
Caliban—coming from his cave—crawls part way
up the steps and lies flat, occasionally lifting his
head to listen.]
PROSPERO
So, Ariel, I have harvested for thee
These orchards of mine art, and let thee taste
Their varied fruitages, some that have ripened
In climes auspicious, some that are part decayed.
Now from three vineyards–Egypt, Greece, and
Rome -
I will distill a varicolored wine
For Caliban to drink. So, steeped in spirit,
Haply he also shall see visions. Hast
Thou learned by heart all that I whispered to thee?
ARIEL
All, Master.
34


CALIBAN
PROSPERO
Tell me part.
ARIEL
You will create
Out of this world of art three scenes of vision.
PROSPERO
And who shall act them—say!
ARIEL
My Spirits shall;
And I will be their Prologue.
PROSPERO
For what purpose?
ARIEL
To tutor this beast.
PROSPERO
And why?
ARIEL
That he may grow
To reverence Miranda, and forswear
Setebos.


40
CALIBAN
PROSPERO
Tush, fool:
Wilt thou obey?
CALIBAN
Obeyeth both of you.
PROSPERO
That's well. Sit here and watch. Now, Ariel,
Thy prologue: then reveal what lies behind.
[Prospero mounts his throne, on the steps of which
Caliban squats below him, watching and listening
with growing curiosity. At the centre, before the
Cloudy Curtains, Ariel speaks.]
ARIEL
From Egypt, by our Master's art,
Behold now, when these curtains part,
A scene of fleeting pageantry:
Behold where pale Mark Antony
Hath fled his sore defeated ships
In quest of Cleopatra's lips,
And turned the tides of war amiss
To pawn a kingdom for a kiss.-
So, by my Spirits' acting, see
Of what strange stuff these humans be!
(Ariel retires within through the curtains, which then-
to the melodic dirge of flutes within-draw apart,


CALIBAN
41
disclosing the inner stage, which depicts a scene of
vivid Egyptian coloring.)
FIRST INNER SCENE
Against a background of deep blue sky, the barge*
of Cleopatra lies moored at an ancient wharf:
*“The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them. The oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke. . For her own person,
It beggar'd all description: she did lie
In her pavilion-cloth-of-gold of tissue
O'er-picturing that Venus where we see
The fancy out-work nature. On each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With diverse-color'd fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool....
Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,
So many mermaids, tended her i’ the eyes,
And made their bends adornings. At the helm
A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle
Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,
That yarely frame the office. From the barge
A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs.”—(Antony and Cleopatra: II,2. Shakespeare.]
The charm and splendor of this description applies here only to the
beauty of the barge and those it bears: otherwise Cleopatra and her at-
tendants are, in their appearance, distraught and fearful, and the barge
shows signs of recent perilous escape from the scene of Antony's sea-
battle with Octavius Cæsar.
Being here conceived as a plastic vision in the mind of Prospero,
this Inner Scene-an excerpt from Act III, Scene XI, of Shakespeare's
play—has, by dramatic license appropriate to this masque, been laid in
a scene suggested by the above description of the barge.


CALIBAN
From the left, along the wharf, enters Mark
Antony, attended by Soldiers and Populace in
Roman and Egyptian garb.]
ANTONY
Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon 't;
It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither.
I am so hated in the world, that I
Have lost my way forever. I have a ship
Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly,
And make your peace with Cæsar.
ALL
Fly! Not we.
ANTONY
I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards
To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone;
I have myself resolv'd upon a course
Which has no need of you; be gone...
Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command...
[His followers depart, and Antony throws himself
down on a buttress of the wharf.
Meantime from the barge, Cleopatra-who has
looked on and listened—is led down to the landing
by Charmian and her Attendants, behind whom Eros
(a friend of Antony) follows.
They approach Antony, who-absorbed in his
grief-does not see them.]


CALIBAN
43
EROS
Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him. . .
CHARMIAN
Do! Why, what else?
CLEOPATRA
Let me sit down. O Juno!
(As Cleopatra sinks down near him, Antony-
now beholding her-starts up with a cry of surprise
and passionate pain.]
ANTONY
No, no, no; no, no!
EROS
[Pointing to Cleopatra's piteous aspect.]
See you here, sir?
ANTONY
[Hiding his face.]
O fie, fie, fie!
CHARMIAN
(Bending over her.]
Madam!
EROS
[Appealing to Antony.]
Sir, sir,-


CALIBAN
ANTONY
Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept
His sword e'en like a dancer, while I struck
The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I
That the mad Brutus ended ... yet now-No
matter.
(He sinks down again.]
CLEOPATRA
[Rising, to her Attendants.]
Ah, stand by ... sustain me! O!
EROS
Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches.
Her head's declin'd, and death will seize her, but
Your comfort makes the rescue.
ANTONY
[Drawing still away, despairfully.]
I have offended reputation,
A most unnoble swerving.
EROS
Sir, the queen!
[Cleopatra and Antony face each other-gazing
into each other's eyes.]


CALIBAN
45
ANTONY
[Suddenly crying out.]
O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See,
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
By looking back what I have left behind
'Stroy'd in dishonor.
CLEOPATRA
O my lord, my lord,
Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought
You would have follow'd.
ANTONY
Egypt, thou knew'st too well
My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,
And thou shouldst tow me after. O'er my spirit
Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that
Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods
Command me.
CLEOPATRA
O my pardon!
ANTONY
Now I must
To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
And palter in the shifts of lowness; who
With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased,


CALIBAN
47
an instant, bewildered. Then, with a cry, he leaps
forward in the dim-lit space and gropes along the
curtains with arms wide.]
CALIBAN
Ho, light! All's smother: 'tis gone! Yo-yo, all
gone
Cloud-swallowed, all! Ah, woman, snake-bright
queen,
Thou wonder-thing, come back! Ah, where—where-
where?
PROSPERO
So, so! Canst thou, then, taste my vision, slave?
[He descends the throne toward Caliban.]
CALIBAN
[Staring about him.]
O dazzle-blue, gold-shine, hot lotus smell!
Blood-root in bloom, and scarlet water-weed!
O silver sight and tinkle-tickling sound!
Spurteth my body with joy-burst in my brain
Enormous moons of wonder!—Float, still float,
You purpling sails! Blaze, thou flame-woman!
Speak
Sparkles of kissing fire!


* 48
CALIBAN
PROSPERO
[Approaching him.]
Nay, art thou touched
Beyond thy tiger cravings?
CALIBAN
Ho, Lord Master,
Lord Chanticleer, unswallow from thy gorge
The world thou hast devoured!
PROSPERO
[Pointing toward Ariel, who comes forth again as
Prologus through the curtains.]
Ask of thy tutor;
He hath revealed that world to thy brute ken.-
Ariel, this lump of earth hath dreams within 't,
That now begin to sprout. Send it more sun
And watering.
ARIEL
Sir, your art is rain and sun:
I am but air, to carry its wet or warmth
Whereso you list.
PROSPERO
So let it fall on him
Till he shall wax to a more worthy plant
For Miranda's temple-garden.—Here is my Staff:


CALIBAN
49
This wields my power. Here keep it in thy charge
Till I return. So, use it as a rod
To instruct this bungling cub of Setebos.
ARIEL
[As Prospero goes.]
I will, sir.—Go you far?
PROSPERO
No farther than
The frontiers of mine art. Farewell a while!
[Prospero passés within through the curtains. Half
confiding, half suspicious, Caliban comes near to
Ariel and questions him.]
CALIBAN
Art, saith! What's that-his art?
ARIEL
'Tis that which burns
Now in thy blood: the same which conjured hither
Bright Egypt and the kiss of Antony.
CALIBAN
The woman and the kiss! Nay, saidest now
'Tis rain and sun!
ARIEL
'Tis so.


50
CALIBAN
CALIBAN
Where falleth his rain?
Where shineth his sun?
ARIEL
Yonder on the Yellow Sands.
CALIBAN
Nay, show me this art! Is 't hidden in thy hand?
Here, let me hold the staff.
[Caliban reaches for the staff; Ariel raises it warningly.]
ARIEL
Stay! Touch it not
Lest it shall scorch thy fingers and set fire
To the building world. The staff of Prospero
Is for his servants, not for slaves, to wield.
CALIBAN
[Drawing back from it, in fear.]
Scorcheth my fingers, ah?—So wield it, thou!
Show me once more the snake-bright queen.
ARIEL
Nay, Egypt
No more! But come with me to Prosper's throne
Where I play master now. Here thou shalt sit
And watch the battlements of eternal Troy
Where Troilus woos inconstant Cressida.


CALIBAN
CALIBAN
Showest me once more-woman?
ARIEL
Even so;
For many kinds of woman make mankind.
[Rising, Ariel points toward the inner stage and speaks
chantingly.]
Now, from out Time's storied sphere,
Homer's Troy I summon here,
On a dawn when Hector seeks
Battle with the besieging Greeks:
There, while heroes throng the gates,
Cressida her lover 'waits,
Casting from a height apart
Tangling hooks for Troilus' heart.-
Behold her now, by Prosper's art!
[Ariel raises his staff.]
SECOND INNER SCENE*
The Cloudy Curtains draw back, revealing the battle-
ments of Troy. Above, on a rampart, in the first
rays of morning, CRESSIDA appears, with a maiden
Attendant.
*During this scene, Caliban-watching intently-slides from the steps
of the throne and crawls slowly forward on his stomach to the centre,
where he lies prone, with head lifted his body pointed toward the Inner
stage--kicking at times his lower legs (from the knees) in the air.


CALIBAN
Below, murmuring crowds are looking toward the
outer gates. Among them pass the aged Trojan
Queen, and the Greek Helen, in her younger beauty.
CRESSIDA
[Peering below.]
Who were those went by?
ATTENDANT
Queen Hecuba and Helen.
CRESSIDA
And whither go they?
ATTENDANT
Up to the eastern tower
To see the battle—Hector,
Before the sun uprose, was harnessed light
And to the field goes he.
Enter behind them Pandarus.)
CRESSIDA
Hector's a gallant man.-
[Turning to greet him.]
Good morrow, Uncle Pandarus.
PANDARUS
[Smiling.]
Good morrow, Cousin Cressid.
[Trumpets are sounded, off left.]


CALIBAN
53
Hark! They are coming from the field. Shall we
stand up here and see them as they pass toward
Ilium?
CRESSIDA
At your pleasure.
[They move to a better vantage. At a gesture
from Cressida the Attendant departs.]
PANDARUS
Here, here's an excellent place. I'll tell you them
all by their names, as they pass by; but mark
Troilus above the rest.
CRESSIDA
[With a reproving laugh.]
Speak not so loud.
[Below, from the left, Trojan warriors, in battle
gear, begin to pass by, through the admiring populace
who cheer them occasionally.
Among them
ÆNEAS PASSES
PANDARUS
That's Æneas: is not that a brave man? He's one
of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark
Troilus; you shall see anon.
ANTENOR PASSES


CALIBAN
CRESSIDA
Who's that?
PANDARUS
That's Antenor: he's one o' the soundest judgments
in Troy. But when comes Troilus? I'll show
you Troilus anon. If he sees me, you shall see
him nod at me.
CRESSIDA
[Archly.]
Will he give you the nod?
PANDARUS
You shall see.
CRESSIDA
If he do, the rich shall have more.
HECTOR PASSES
PANDARUS
That's Hector: that, that, look you, that; there's a
fellow!
Go thy way, Hector! There's a brave man, niece.
CRESSIDA
0, a brave man!
PANDARUS
Swords! anything, he cares not; an the devil comes to
him, it's all one. Yonder comes Paris—Paris!
PARIS PASSES


CALIBAN
55
Who said he came hurt home to-day? He's not hurt.
Why, this will do Helen's heart good now, ha! Would
I could see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus
anon.
HELENUS PASSES
CRESSIDA
Who's that?
PANDARUS
[Searching with his eyes, grows impatiently expect-
ant.]
That's Helenus.-I marvel where Troilus is.—That's
Helenus—I think he went not forth to-day.
That's Helenus.
CRESSIDA
Can Helenus fight, uncle?
PANDARUS
Helenus? no. Yes, he'll fight indifferent well.-I
marvel where Troilus is. Hark! do you hear the
people cry “Troilus?”
TROILUS PASSES
(As he approaches, the populace cheer him.
His eyes, however, search about till they rest on
the battlement, where Cressida, returning his look,
starts back, trembling.
Noting both their actions, Pandarus continues
flauntingly to point out the young hero.)


56
CALIBAN
'Tis Troilus! There's a man, niece. Hem! Brave
Troilus!
CRESSIDA
Peace! For shame, peace!
PANDARUS
Mark him: note him. O brave Troilus! Look well
upon him, niece; look you how his sword is blood-
ied, and his helm more hacked than Hector's.
O admirable youth! Go thy way, Troilus, go thy
way! Had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a
goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable
man! Paris? Paris is dirt to him.
(While he is speaking, Cressida has taken from her
hair a flower, knotted its stem to an arrow, and
dropped the arrow beneath the rampart, where Troilus
lifts it with a smile and happy gesture, bearing it away
with him, right. As Pandarus now turns to her,
Cressida looks away left and points to others below.]
CRESSIDA
Here comes more.
MORE FORCES PASS
PANDARUS
Asses, fools, dolts! Chaff and bran! Porridge after
meat! I could live and die i’ the eyes of Troilus.
Ne'er look, ne'er look! the eagles are gone; crows


CALIBAN
57
and daws, crows and daws! I had rather be such
a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and all Greece.
[Enter, above, Troilus' Boy, who speaks to Pandarus.]
THE BOY
Sir, my lord Troilus would instantly speak with you.
PANDARUS
Where?
THE BOY
At your own house; there he unarms him.
PANDARUS
Good boy, tell him I come. [Exit Boy.] Fare ye
well, good niece.
(He goes off, above.]
CRESSIDA
Adieu, uncle !
[Below, the last of the soldiers and populace have
passed off, right, where Cressida gazes after them,
speaking aloud to herself:]
O more in Troilus thousandfold I see
Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be;
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing.
Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing.
(Below, from the right, Troilus hastens back, alone.
The arrow with the flower he has thrust through the


CALIBAN
links in his chain armor on his left side.
to it, he calls up toward the battlement.]
Pointing
TROILUS
Cressida!
CRESSIDA
[With a glad cry.]
Troilus!
(Unwinding her long wine-red scarf, she ties it to
the battlement, whence it flutters down to Troilus.
Seizing it, he mounts by its aid toward the rampart,
where the face of Cressida peers luringly above him.]
TROILUS
[Calling upward as he mounts.]
Cressida!
[Just as he is about to reach Cressida,
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE.
[At the centre Caliban now leaps up in loud, excited
laughter. Clapping his hands in the air, he
strides toward Ariel on the throne.]
CALIBAN
Aha! Troy, Troy! Lips of Troyland and Egypt!
Lovers in links of gold! Ho, wine of woman
Bubbling in vats of war!-drinketh you all
Caliban, Caliban, son of Setebos.-Ariel,


CALIBAN
Learnest me Art? Lo, now: I am his Artist!
Tell him, Lord Prospero, Caliban createth
Glories more 'stounding still. Art? Ho, 'tis God's
play!
But me? Am God i' the mire: can make me Troy
And purple Egypt out of the mud i' my palm;
Giveth me only that—his little play stick
[Pointing to the staff in Ariel's hand.]
To stir in the mud withal.
ARIEL
Not yet!—This staff
Is wrought to stir the spirits of the air,
Not dabble i' the slime.
CALIBAN
Why so? From bog-slime bloometh
The lotus, and the sea-lark feedeth her young
Along the salt flats.-
[With childish wheedling.]
Prithee—the staff?
ARIEL
[Descending the throne.]
'T'would burn thee.
Touch not till thou art free. Yet patience, monster,


CALIBAN
CALIBAN
[With confiding assurance.]
Liketh well thy father's art,
Spring-i’-the-air.
MIRANDA
God speed thy learning, monster!
I am more fain to help thee in that task
Than all else in the world.
CALIBAN
(Astonished and eager.]
Wouldst help me—thou?
MIRANDA
How happy, if I could!
CALIBAN
Yea, canst thou!-Hark:
(Glancing from his garb to Ariel's.]
Let me wear glory, too! What booteth me
To be his Artist, if I wear no cloth
To show my glory? He there talketh no Prologue
Without his toga. Tog me, too, in brave
Colors!


62
CALIBAN
MIRANDA
Well thought on.
[To one of the Muses.]
Quick, Euterpe: Fetch
Bright vesture forth.
ARIEL
For Caliban?
MIRANDA
For whom
So fit? The need of beauty lies
Most near to them who lack it.
[Euterpe returns, bringing bright garments, which she
and the other Maidens help now to put upon Cali-
ban.)
So, dear Muses:
Lay on!
CALIBAN
[Delightedly tries to survey himself.]
Ha, Sycorax, an thou wert here now
To look on this thy son!
[He parades, with swelling pleasure, before the Muses.]
Gaze well, good Spirits!
Now, Ariel, thy pupil soon shall teach thee


CALIBAN
What thing this Art is: yea, teach Prospero
A lesson in 's own lore.
MIRANDA
[To Ariel, who is about to protest.]
Pray, let him tarry
This time with us. He is too full of dreams
To act us harm. Speak on thy Prologue.
CALIBAN
(Still parading.)
Prologue!
Aye, good: my Prologue shall come after.
ARIEL
Mistress,
Keep here, this staff for your protection.
[Accepting the staff from Ariel, Miranda takes seat on
the shrine, where the Muses range themselves about
her.]
MIRANDA
So!
Be near us, Caliban.
CALIBAN
[Moving to the shrine steps, speaks to Ariel.]
What showest now?


CALIBAN
ARIEL
[At centre, before the curtains.]
Now, in Time's emblazoned tome
Egypt, Greece, turn page for Rome.
CALIBAN
[Mutters aloud.]
Rome, ha! I'll show you Rome!
ARIEL
Rocked by mighty Cæsar's fall
Glooms the world in battle pall,
Where by midnight, worn and spent,
Weary Brutus, in his tent,
Watches ’mid the Roman host.
There the pallid Cæsar's ghost
Rises from his candle-flame
Accusing.–Who shall bear that blame?
Can Brutus wake a world from shame?
[Ariel disappears through the curtains. Miranda
raises the staff.]
THIRD INNER SCENE
The Cloudy Curtains part, disclosing the tent of Brutus,
by moonlight.
Brutus—his outer armor laid aside—sits on a couch:
near him Lucius, a boy, nods drowsily over a stringed
instrument. After a brief pause, Brutus—gazing
at him-speaks wistfully:


CALIBAN
BRUTUS
Bear with me, good boy:
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?
LUCIUS
Aye, my lord, an't please you.
BRUTUS
It does, my boy:
I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
LUCIUS
I have slept, my lord, already.
BRUTUS
It was well done; and thou shalt sleep again;
I will not hold thee long. If I do live
I will be good to thee.
LUCIUS
[Tuning his instrument, sings dreamily:]
Fear no more the frown o' the great;
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke.
Care no more to clothe and eat;
Toʻthee the seed is as the oak.
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.
[Lucius falls asleep.]


CALIBAN
BRUTUS
This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber,
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy
That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good-night;
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.-
Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turned down
Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.
[The Ghost of Cæsar appears.]
How ill this taper burns !-Ha! Who comes here?
I think it is the weakness of mine eyes
That shapes this monstrous apparition.
It comes upon me. Art thou anything?
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,
That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?
Speak to me what thou art.
[In the darkness, dark ghostly shapes, hardly visible,
appear to urge forward the dead Cæsar, who alone
is luminous.]
THE GHOST
Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
BRUTUS
Why comest thou?
THE GHOST
To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.


CALIBAN
BRUTUS
Well; then I shall see thee again?
THE GHOST
Aye, at Philippi.
BRUTUS
Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then.
[The Ghost and the dim Shapes disappear. Brutus
rises.]
Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest:
Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.-
(Calling aloud.]
Boy, Lucius! Romans, Romans! Awake-awake!
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE
[Instantly, in the semi-darkness without, Caliban-with
a great cry—springs among the Muses, snatches
from Miranda the staff, and rushes with it to the
centre of the middle stage, shouting aloud:]
CALIBAN
Awake, Romans, awake!
(Low thunders growl, and sharp flashes glimmer about
him.]


CALIBAN
MIRANDA
[Cries out, appalled.]
The staff! His staff!
Touch not its power, lest thou lay waste the world!
CALIBAN
(Grasping the staff, staggers and sways wildly with it,
as though being shocked by an invisible force.]
Rome! Now do I hold the roof-beam o' the world.
Now am I lord of lightnings: Lo, mine art
Shaketh the throne of Prospero.
[He strides upon the throne, raising the staff.]
Awake,
Imperial Rome! Return, ye snake-bright women
Of Troy and Egypt! Stain these yellow sands
Wine-red with spillings of your wreathèd bowls,
And let the orgied priests of revel reign.-
Caligula, be crowned by Setebos!
Caligula! Caligula! Caligula!
(While he cries aloud, the Powers of Setebos come forth
from the cell beneath, clad as Roman men, women,
and slaves and, joined by the Roman Interlude
Pageant on the ground-circle, raise the Emperor on a
palanquin upon their shoulders, and bear him up
the steps to the middle stage, shouting“Caligula!”
Here a scene of mingled riot and orgy follows:


CALIBAN
69
Women dancers with golden bowls, slaves shackled and
driven with whips, rabble groups scrambling for
bread loaves flung them by heralds, armed soldiery,
and gorgeous patrician lords: these swarm in a sor-
did saturnalia, from the midst of which the masked
form of Caligula rises dominant in splendor. At
his gesture, slaves tear the Muses from their shrine,
and give them over to the revellers.
High above all, clutching the staff, his huge limbs rioting
grotesque from his silken garments, Caliban dances
on the throne of Prospero.
Below, bass voices of invisible choirs chant through the
din :
“Setebos ! Setebos ! Thou art Setebos !”
Seized from the throne with the Muses, Miranda—at the
centre—is borne in faint dread to the reaching arms
of Caligula, who is about to place upon her his
crown, when a sudden pealing of silvery trumpets
strikes silence over all. In awe the revellers gaze
upward, and turn toward the background, listening.
Above them there, from the darkness, appears a colossal
CROSS, burning with white fire.
Caligula drops his crown.
Shadow falls on the colorful pageantry, and all sink
slowly to their knees, as the Spirits of Ariel appear
again above—their luminous wings outspread like
seraphim.


CALIBAN
At either end one blows a slim tapering trumpet.
High and clear, then, their choirs chant in Gregorian
unison :
SPIRITS OF ARIEL
Vexilla Regis pródeunt;
Fulget Crucis mystérium,
Quo carne carnis Cónditor
Suspensus est patíbulo.
Quo vulneratis ínsuper
Mucróne diro lanceæ,
Ut nos laváret crimine,
Manavit unda et sánguine.
O Crux, ave, spes, unica:
Hoc Passiónis témpore,
Auge piis justítiam
Reisque dona veniam.
Te summa Deus Trínitas,
Collaudet omnis spiritus:
Quos per Crucis mystérium
Salvas, rege per sæcula.
During this chant, the dim revellers beneath bow their
bodies more low.


CALIBAN
71
And now, to faint organ music, the Cloudy Curtains,
parting, reveal the INNER STAGE hung like an
early Christian shrine in a catacomb—with prin-
itive tapestries of dusky blue and gold. Against
these in the glow of candles, an image of haloed
Saint Agnes holds a white lamb, which silent shep-
herds are adoring. This group remains motionless
as a tableau.
Then silently from either side two priests come forth
with swinging censers. Passing forward and
down the steps to the ground-circle, they are fol-
lowed in the dim light by the Roman revellers, who
rise and pass off through the Interlude gates.
· Last of all rises Caligula, who pauses hesitant, looking
back where Miranda still kneels, now grouped
about by her Muses.
As he stoops to lift his crown from the earth, two Figures
in the INNER SCENE-a Shepherd Boy, and a
Shepherd wrapt in a hide mantle—stir from the still
picture and come forward in a circle of light, while
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE behind
them, and above the white cross vanishes.
Speaking from the place of light to the Emperor's form
in shadow, the Shepherd calls to him:]
THE SHEPHERD
Caligula!


CALIBAN
: 73
MIRANDA
[Rising, goes to Prospero's arms.]
Father!
[From the outer dimness, Caliban—who, since the ap-
pearance of the burning Cross, has lain flat on the
throne steps—now grovels forward (trailing his
silken garment by one sleeve) and flings the staff
of Prospero into the light space.]
CALIBAN
No more! Will never touch it more!
PROSPERO
[Staring at the staff.]
A thousand years
To build, and build for beauty, yet in one flare
Of riot lust, a lubber idiot
Confounds time and my toil.—Ah, daughter,
daughter!
How shall mine art reclaim this lapsing ape
From his own bondage?
MIRANDA
Sir, my heart is shaken;
Yet the sweet sight of Agnes and her lamb
Hath shown new comfort.
[Stooping, she lifts the staff and holds it toward him.]


CALIBAN
Therefore, even as a Shepherd,
Take up thy staff in patience, and urge still onward
This poor sloughed sheep.
PROSPERO
Yea, patience! Sun, moon, stars,
And all that waxes hath its waning-hour; '
But patience is the night behind the stars,
Steadfast through all eclipse.
[With his staff, he touches Caliban where he lies cringed.]
Stir, thou thick clot
Of clay and god-spittle! Let thine atoms thaw
To mud, where Prosper may imprint once more
His blurred seal.
CALIBAN
[Hoarsely, half rising.)
Mud: yea, methought to be
His Artist, and make dream-things of mine own
Like Ariel his spirits, yet now-am mud.
MIRANDA
[Pitifully.]
Nay, star-dust!


CALIBAN
ARIEL
[Returning.)
Master, from those far frontiers
You visited, have you not brought us back
More pageants of your art?
PROSPERO
Yes, Ariel:
Back from the dim bourns of the Middle Age
Of Germany, France, Spain, and Italy.
And now, for this slave's tutelage, I'll show you
Their quaint moralities and mad-cap mirth.
Come hither, and watch: Lo, olden Germany!
Pageant of the north, appear.


SECOND ÍNTERLUDE*
Once more, through the community gates of the ground-
circle, appear, in contrasted ritual, successive Folk-
Groups, that perform now episodic phases of the dramatic
art of Europe in the Middle Ages. Concluding, each
group departs.
First comes the Germanic, in part grimly austere, in
part naïvely grotesque. On a portable, three-tiered stage
this group enacts both audience and players of a popular
morality play: a pantomime scene depicting-in heaven,
earth, and hell—the tragic, romantic HISTORY OF
DOCTOR FAUSTUS.
This Action is followed by the contrasted splendor of a
mediæval French scene. Here, in presence of the Kings
of France and England, on THE FIELD OF THE
CLOTH OF GOLD, is performed a colorful tournament
on horseback.
Last follows a fusion of the Spanish and Italian
groups in the Third Action: a light-hearted dramatic
Scherzo, full of laughter, knavery, and romantic love,
nai
* For fuller description of this Interlude, See Appendix, pages
184-194.
76


CALIBAN
77
performed-in the midst of a festa—by the pied actors
of the COMMEDIA DELL'ARTE.
During this last Action, Prospero and Ariel (above]
have withdrawn through the Cloudy Curtains, leaving
Caliban alone, staring spellbound at the many-hued
festival below him.


ACT II
[Now, when the Italian Interlude is concluded, thelight-
passing to the middle stage—illumines at centre
the lone figure of Caliban, where he squats above his
cell. Gazing out over the ground-circle, he calls
aloud his yearning thoughts:]
CALIBAN
O Sands—Yellow Sands! Falleth on you his rain,
Shineth his sun! Yea, there his breeding dews
Quicken your blind rock-seeds, till wondrous live
things
Burst 'em with flame-bright petals; and where his
light falls
You blossom with stars and flowers: But me-me
saith,
Am mud! Calleth me a bubble of black ooze
Can breed but only mine own belly-kind-
Bog-fish and moles.—Lieth!
[Rising with a great gesture.]
He lieth! 'Tis lies!
Sands!—You wild, yellow sands! I too, I, too,
Am born to dance by your eternal waves
som


CALIBAN
79
And build brave temples there. I, too, shall bring you
Shoutings of life-song, like those Spirits.—Lo,
I come to you—I come now!
[Running down the steps, he rushes out upon the ground-
circle, where he stoops on bent knees and kisses the
shining earth.
Behind him, at the entrance of the cell, Death appears,
holding a great gray cloak.
He comes forward, speaking in a thin monotone.]
DEATH
Caliban!
CALIBAN
[Raising his head.]
What calleth me there?
DEATH
Death: priest of Setebos.
CALIBAN
His temple is fallen: will build no more like his.
DEATH
Thou shalt restore his temple, Caliban.
CALIBAN
[Rising.)
Nay, will not!


CALIBAN
DEATH
None can say me Nay. I am
The will to not be which denies all wills.
[Through the Cloudy Curtains—slowly-Prospero en-
ters, in troubled meditation.]
CALIBAN
And I am Caliban: [Pointing toward Prospero.] will
be his servant.
DEATH
Caliban, thou shalt fail. Thyself art failure,
Setebos' son.
CALIBAN
Myself am done with Setebos:
· Wear now Miranda's cloth.
DEATH
Thou shalt wear mine.
Behold!
CALIBAN
[Looking at the gray cloak.]
What's that?


CALIBAN
81
DEATH
My cloak, where thou shalt hide
To snare Miranda unto bondage. Hark!
[Far, cold, and thin a dirgeful choir sounds from the
cell behind the figure of Death.]
THE DIRGE
Gray-gray-gray: Joy be unholy and hidden;
Wan be the rainbow of wonder, frozen the tide!
Blind-blind—blind: Passion be pale and forbidden;
Dumb be the lips of the soul to Beauty denied !
PROSPERO
[Speaks to Ariel, who comes running from behind the
Cloudy Curtains.]
Blithe bird of mine, my heart is boding ill.
Hast thou heard?
ARIEL
Nay, Master, what?
PROSPERO .
His dirges.
ARIEL
Whose?
PROSPERO
Setebos'. Ha, 'tis not his lust I dread,
Nay, nor his tiger tooth, nor belly on fire:


CALIBAN
DEATH
[Disappearing within the cell.]
Thou shalt fail.
CALIBAN
(Bowing before Prospero.]
Master, raise up thy servant.
PROSPERO
Raise thyself.
CALIBAN
[Slowly rising.)
So—while thou lookest on me, I can rise.
PROSPERO
Nay, look once more on what I now create
For thee to rise by. 'Tis mine art, not me,
Reigns as thy master. Master it, and go free.
[The Three move toward the throne, where they soon
group themselves on the steps.]
CALIBAN
What wilt thou show me now?
PROSPERO
A mind distraught-
Grasping at realms invisible—like thine,
Poor groping dreamer. Ariel, from the scroll


CALIBAN
Of mine old Gothic meditations, bid
Thy spirits blazon now a glimpse of Hamlet.
(He hands to Ariel his scroll.]
ARIEL
Your will, great Master, we revere it.-
Lo where, to meet his father's spirit,
Pale Hamlet watches now, before
The parapets of Elsinore!
(Ariel raises the scroll; then, unrolling it, bends his looks
upon it, while the Cloudy Curtains part, revealing
the
FIFTH INNER SCENE.
On a platform at Elsinore, by blazing starlight, three
Figures are seen pacing the cold.
HAMLET
The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
HORATIO
It is a nipping and an eager air.
HAMLET
What hour now?
- HORATIO
I think it lacks of twelve.


CALIBAN
85
MARCELLUS
No, it is struck.
HORATIO
Indeed?
I heard it not: then it draws near the season
Wherein the spirit held its wont to walk.
[A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off
within.]
What does this mean, my lord?
HAMLET
The King doth wake to-night and takes his rouse,
Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-start reels;
And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out
The triumph of his pledge. · · ·
HORATIO
(Pointing.)
My lord, it comes !
[Enter Ghost.]
HAMLET
Angels and ministers of grace defend us -
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn’d,
Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
Thou comest in such a questionable shape
That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet,


86
CALIBAN
King, father, royal Dane:0 answer me!...
What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous, and we fools of nature
So horridly to shake our disposition
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do?
(The Ghost beckons Hamlet.]
HORATIO
It beckons you to go away with it,
As if it some impartment did desire
To you alone.
MARCELLUS
Look with what courteous action
It waves you to a more removed ground:
But do not go with it.
HORATIO
No; by no means.
HAMLET
It will not speak; then I will follow it.
HORATIO
Do not, my lord.


CALIBAN
HAMLET
Why, what should be the fear?
I do not set my life at a pin's fee;
And for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as itself?—
It waves me forth again:I'll follow it.
MARCELLUS
You shall not go, my lord.
HAMLET
Hold off your hands.
HORATIO
Be ruled; you shall not go.
HAMLET
My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.
Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen.
By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!
I say, away!—Go on; I'll follow thee!
[As Hamlet, impetuous, makes after the departing
ghost,
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE


88
CALIBAN
CALIBAN
(Springing up.]
No, no! Follow not! Let him not follow! 'Tis
A spirit lureth to Setebos and Death.
He knoweth him not, what ʼtis;—but, master, I know.
Me, me too hath he beckoned with blind eyes
And offered his gray cloth.
PROSPERO
Thee? Death hath beckoned
And yet thou didst not follow?
CALIBAN
Hither I fled
To serve thee, but he said that I should fail;
Yet-yet, and thou wilt help, I will not fail!
PROSPERO
And what wouldst have of me?
CALIBAN
[Pointing to Ariel.]
Thy wonder scroll:
Nay, not thy staff again! Will never more
Botch with thy lightnings. Nay, but this littler
thing
Lend me, and let me bear it against Death


CALIBAN
89
1
To free my father's spirit from his gray pall.
Lettest Ariel: let now thy Caliban
Conspire to serve thee.
[He reaches for the scroll.]
PROSPERO
Why, thou wheedlest well,
And I must hope in thy self-weening. Yet
Beware lest thou thyself shalt wear the drab
Thou takest from him: Gray hath arsenic
More keen than scarlet or the corroding blood
That sered the flesh of Hercules.
CALIBAN
[Eagerly.]
Wilt lend me
The scroll?
PROSPERO
(With a gesture to Ariel.]
Here!
[Ariel hands the scroll, which Prospero then gives to
Caliban.]
Use this token of mine art
Less blindfold than the last.
[Caliban bounds away with the scroll.]


CALIBAN
ARIEL
(Half protesting.]
Will trust him, Master?
PROSPERO
Yea, though he fail me yet again, for only
Trust can create its object.
CALIBAN
[Joyfully kissing the scroll and raising it.]
Now, now, Setebos,
Thy son shall wean thy Powers from Death, thy
priest!
(Descending the steps, Caliban hastens to the mouth of
the cell, where—as he is about to enter-Death re-
appears and hails him.)
DEATH
Welcome, Caliban!
[Death beckons within. Pausing momentarily, Caliban
seems about to draw back, but recovering his pur-
pose cries out hoarsely:)
CALIBAN
Go on; I'll follow thee.
(He follows within and disappears.


CALIBAN
93
MIRANDA
What kings were they, and where?
PROSPERO
England and France:
“They met in the vale of Andren, 'twixt Guynes and
Arde;
I was then present, saw them salute on horseback;
Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung
In their embracement, as they grew together.'—*
But tell us, Ariel, what I told thee remember,
How Peace was crowned on the Field of the Cloth of
Gold.
MIRANDA
How brave a name! Would I had been there!
ARIEL
[Bowing, as Prologue.]
'You lost
The view of earthly glory: men might say
Till this time pomp was single, but now married
To one above itself. Each following day
Became the next day's master, till the last
Made former wonders its. To-day, the French,
All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods,
*From Shakespeare's "King Henry the Eighth,” Act I, Scene 1.


94
CALIBAN
Shone down the English; and to-morrow, they
Made Britain India: every man that stood
Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
As cherubins, all gilt: the madams too,
Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear
The pride upon them, that their very labor
Was to them as a painting: now this masque
Was cried incomparable, and the ensuing night
Made it a fool and beggar. The two Kings,
Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
As presence did present them.'*—Lo, now, see
How first they met, and clasped their hands in
peace!
(Lifting Prospero's staff, Ariel makes a gesture toward
the Cloudy Curtains, which part, discovering the
SIXTH INNER SCENE
Here, to an opening fanfare of golden trumpets, takes
place a PANTOMIME, all of gold, depicting to the
eye, as in a glowing fantasy, the meeting of the Kings
and their Retinues: the alighting of the Kings from
horseback, their embracement and their clasping of
hands.
During this enactment of the pantomime, the choirs of
Ariel's Spirits sing, unseen:]
*From Shakespeare's “ King Henry the Eighth,” Act I, Scene 1.


96
CALIBAN
Methinks my soul is a flake o' the sun, for where
Things golden shine, I spangle, too; yea, burn
To be Aurora, and trail cloth of gold
Around the world.
PROSPERO
Unless my will miscarry,
Thou shalt be such a morning messenger
And wake the world with beauty. Now my plans
Wait on a vast result, for Caliban
Himself hath gone to deal with Setebos
His gray priest, Death.
MIRANDA
What, Caliban! O glad
Hope for us all! Your art begins to triumph,
And Ariel's Spirits to conquer.
PROSPERO
That still waits:
Meanwhile mine art drinks from this renaissance
Deep draughts against a dark to-morrow.-Hither,
You Fauns! Come, bear my gold-emblazoned scrolls
And silver-clasped books before me!
(Lifting the scrolls and volumes from their pile by the
shrine, the Fauns come forward with them to Pros-
pero, who turns affectionately to Miranda.]


98
CALIBAN
[Accompanied by the bright-clothed Fauns, bearing the
great books and scrolls in quaint procession, Pros-
pero departs through the throne-entrance.
Meantime, the Muses and Miranda gather at the
shrine, where Ariel approaches Miranda.]
ARIEL
Mistress-
MIRANDA
Hark, Muses! Ariel, speak on!
ARIEL
Ear and eye, now, list and lo:
Mirth of mad Mercutio,
Juliet's sigh for Romeo;
Dim Lorenzo's murmur'd “Ah!”
For moon-dreaming Jessica;
Dance of flower-soul'd Perdita
Wafted to her Florizel
Like a wave o' the sea: List well;
Lo, their night renews its spell!
[At Ariel's last word and gesture, the Cloudy Curtains
part, disclosing the
SEVENTH INNER SCENE
In the glow and gloom of Italian night, as high clouds
intermittently obscure the moon, a palace garden
lies in deep shadow. Emerging only partly into



PRELIMINARY SKETCH FOR SEVENTH INNER SCENE: JONES


CALIBAN
99
view, where soft light-floodings fall on moss-stained
statue, marble bench, and balcony, there is revealed
at first (on the left] nothing but a glimpse of garden
wall, before which flash in the dimness two pied
figures (Benvolio and Mercutio). Calling shrilly,
their young voices rain showers of fluting laughter.
BENVOLIO
Romeo! My cousin Romeo! . .
He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:
Call, good Mercutio.
MERCUTIO
Nay, I'll conjure, too:
Romeo! humors! madman! passion! lover!-
I conjure thee by thy true love's bright eyes,
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not.
BENVOLIO
Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
To be consorted with the humorous night:
Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
MERCUTIO
If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark ..
Romeo, good-night: I'll to my truckle-bed;


TOO
CALIBAN
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
Come, shall we go?
(They disappear, swallowed up in black shadow.
And now the shadow, shifting, leaves bare in mellow
moonshine a glimpse of the garden and the balcony,
where Juliet, bending forward, calls mysteriously
into the dark below:]
JULIET
Hist! Romeo! hist! O for a falconer's voice,
To lure this tassel-gentle back again!
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine
With repetition of my Romeo's name.
ROMEO
(Emerging, below, from the shadow.]
It is my soul that calls upon my name:
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears!
JULIET
Romeo!
ROMEO
My dear?
JULIET
At what o'clock to-morrow
Shall I send to thee?


CALIBAN
103
I'd have you do it ever. When you do dance,
I wish you
A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that; move still, still so,
And own no other function: each your doing
So singular in each particular,
Crowns what you are doing in the present deed,
That all your acts are queens. . .
PERDITA
O Doricles,
Your praises are too large: but that your youth,
And the true blood which peepeth fairly through 't,
Do plainly give you an unstained shepherd,
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,
You woo'd me the false way.
FLORIZEL
I think you have
As little skill to fear as I have purpose
To put you to 't. But come; our dance, I pray:
Your hand, my Perdita!
PERDITA
[Giving her hand confidingly.]
My Florizel !
[Together they dance away into the dark and the luring
music, as
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE


CALIBAN
105
MIRANDA
Nay, darling Muses! do not leave me, too.
What, must you all go hence? Still I must tarry
To greet my father. Friends, good-bye!
[They depart.]
Ah me!
What voices make their dirge within my heart?
[While she has spoken, the mouth of Caliban's cell,
emitting a ghastly glow, fills with dim Shapes,
which pour outward, and swarm slowly upward
over the steps, covering the stage with a moving, hud-
dled grayness, out of which two cloaked Figures rise
distinct in the dusk. As they come forth and hover
nearer to Miranda, a cold dirge issues with them
from below.)
La
THE DIRGE
[As before.]
Gray-gray-gray: Joy be unholy and hidden;
Wan be the rainbow of wonder, frozen the tide !
Blind-blind—blind: Passion be pale and forbidden;
Dumb be the lips of the soul to Beauty denied !
[Slowly the gray hosts surround Miranda, who stares
at them, only half believing their presence, till the
dusk, growing lighter, reveals their long Puritan
cloaks and peaked hats, and the two muffled





CALIBAN
99
view, where soft light-floodings fall on moss-stained
statue, marble bench, and balcony, there is revealed
at first (on the left] nothing but a glimpse of garden
wall, before which flash in the dimness two pied
figures [Benvolio and Mercutio). Calling shrilly,
their young voices rain showers of fluting laughter.
BENVOLIO
Romeo! My cousin Romeo! ..
He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:
Call, good Mercutio.
MERCUTIO
Nay, I'll conjure, too:
Romeo! humors! madman! passion! lover! -
I conjure thee by thy true love's bright eyes,
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not.
BENVOLIO
Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
To be consorted with the humorous night:
Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
MERCUTIO
If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark . . .
Romeo, good-night: I'll to my truckle-bed;


CALIBAN
107
THE DIRGE
Gray-gray-gray: Love, be sin-born of Misgiving!
Life, be a garment of dullness, drab from the loom!
Bleak—bleak—bleak: Death, Death is lord of the living:
Not in the clay but the heart of man lies the tomb.
[Disappearing in the cell below, their chant dies away.
Above them, from the left, Ariel returns, alone.
Searching in the dusk, half fearfully, he calls:]
ARIEL
Miranda-mistress: He hath vanished. Nowhere
Can I find trace of him. Yea, and my Spirits
They, too,they, too, are gone, lost in the grayness:
All have deserted us! Miranda-mistress!
Where art thou? Gone, thyself?—and I alone!
O gray, that hast engulfed a world of beauty,
Where shall I find them ever more my master,
My star-bright mistress? Hear me, Yellow Sands!
If you have beheld them, answer now my prayer!
[Outstretching his arms toward the Sands.]
Prospero! Prospero!—Master!
[From far across the Sands bursts a mellow radiance,
and the rich voice of Prospero calling in answer:]
PROSPERO
Ariel! Ariel!
Ho, bird!


CALIBAN
109
PROSPERO
Welcome our May-pole back!—Where is thy mis-
tress?
ARIEL
(Startled.]
Alas! You know not?
PROSPERO
[Reassuringly.]
Nay, I know. But cheerly,
My birdlings! Now that ye are flocked once more
Round this enchanted tree, I'll conjure you
Out of mine art such joyous rites, that they
Shall draw your Mistress even from the tomb
To join our revels. Come now, gather round
And watch my antic rites of Merry England!


ACT III
(At the conclusion now of the English Interlude, out of
the shadow a roseate glow suffuses the cell of Cali-
ban, from which the green-clad Spirits of Ariel come
running forth, bringing in their midst Miranda.
Leading her in daisy chains, they mount with her
the steps toward Prospero, singing in glad chorus:]
THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL
“Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo !
“The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo !
“The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo !
Spring! the sweet Spring !”
III


CALIBAN
113
CALIBAN
With thee—with thee
. Would I lie even with Death. But when thou leav-
est,
Thy life-song prickleth his sod, and maketh my sap
To leap, and lick the sun again.
[Kneeling before her.]
0, whither :
Thou goest, let Caliban go, and wear thy cloth
Whatso its colors be!
PROSPERO
[Darkly.]
Keep from her, slave!
Touch not her hem. Her Muses garbed thee once
Gay in her colors. Thou soiled'st them with shame.
Next time thou worest drab, and lured'st thy Mis-
tress
Deathward in gray. Now-now thou darest crave
Once more to wear her cloth?
CALIBAN
Yea, do I! See:
This cloak—so I forswear it!
(He puts off the gray cloak, tears it, and tramples upon
it; then turns to Miranda.]
Give me now
Thy green to wear!


I14
CALIBAN
PROSPERO
Insolence infinite!
Ariel, my staff!
MIRANDA
Stay!—What to do?
PROSPERO
[About to raise the staff.]
To teach
This unwhipt hound—to howl.
CALIBAN
[Starting back.]
Great Master!
MIRANDA
Grace,
Dear Father! Patience needs no quick compulsion.
Thine art is wondrous patient, and this poor
Slow climber needs thine art.
PROSPERO
Why, once again
Thou art my wiser self.
[To Caliban.]
Go, lick her hand,
And feed from it.


CALIBAN
115
CALIBAN
(Laying his cheek on Miranda's hand weeps, with great
sobs.]
Spring-Spring-i'-the-air, thy dew
Dabbleth my face. O wonder, what art thou
That fillest so mine eyes with rain-shine?
MIRANDA
April,
Not I, can conjure spring i' the air, and April
Plies rarest art in England.–Ariel,
Fetch us, from out my father's dreamery,
Nature's spring-charm and echo of English song!
[To the Spirits of Ariel.]
Our greenwood cloth! Come, busk him, merry men
all:
Aye, both of us!
CALIBAN
[Rapturously.]
This time I will not fail thee.
MIRANDA
[To Prospero, indicating Caliban.]
Have faith in this fellow-creature, and let these
spirits
Clothe him anew.


116
CALIBAN
PROSPERO
As you like it, dear, be it so!
[The Spirits clothe Caliban and Miranda in green, while
from within the Cloudy Curtains an unseen chorus
sings:]
THE CHORUS
“Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.”
ARIEL
Spirits within, ho!
[The Spirits run through the curtains, at centre, and
disappear within.]
Prosper's hood
Broods now a dream of Arden wood,
Where young Orlando, daring fight
For succor of old Adam's plight,
Defies the greenwood company-
But meets there with no enemy.


I 20
CALIBAN
ORLANDO
I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort!
[Exit Orlando.]
THE DUKE
Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy:
This wide and universal theatre
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.
JACQUES
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players!
[Re-enter Orlando with Adam, whom he helps to
support.]
THE DUKE
Welcome! Set down your venerable burden
And let him feed.
ORLANDO
I thank you most for him.
ADAM
So had you need:
I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.


CALIBAN
123
MIRANDA
I want no bonds
'Twixt me and any friend. Nay, we are friends
And free to serve each other.
CALIBAN
Yet I yearn
For more:I know not what.
MIRANDA
What more could be
More happy?
CALIBAN
Here I crawled upon my belly
Brute-stuttering for you, where now I stand
And pray-with Prosper's tongue. His art hath
bred
Within my blood a kinship with your kindness
That cries: “Miranda, thou and I are one!”—
I know not how I know not how.
MIRANDA
You love me.
'Tis simple, then: I love you, Caliban.
CALIBAN
[In a splendor of amazement.]
Lovest me—thou? thou!—Wilt be mine?


I24
CALIBAN
MIRANDA
Nay, truly
You know not how. Love knows not mine and
thine,
But only ours; and all the world is ours
To serve Love in. I am not thine, good friend.
[She goes within.]
CALIBAN
Stay yet!—She loveth me! Yet Love, she saith,
Love knows not mine and thine.
A VOICE FROM BENEATH
[Calls deeply.]
She shall be thine,
Caliban!
CALIBAN
[Starting.)
Mine! Who saith that word?
THE VOICE
She shall
Be thine!
CALIBAN
How mine?—Say!
THE VOICE
Thou shalt fight for her.


CALIBAN
125
CALIBAN
[Pointing toward the Cloudy Curtains.]
Shall fight? Nay, there—the youth put by his
sword,
For the other said: “Your gentleness shall force
More than your force move us to gentleness.”
THE VOICE
Yet thou shalt fight!
CALIBAN
[Springing forward above his cell.]
What art thou?
[From the mouth of the cell a flame-colored Figure
strides forth and replies:]
THE FIGURE
War: thy father's
Priest.–Caliban, remember Setebos!
CALIBAN
Ha, Setebos! Com’st thou once more with priest-
craft
To lure me back to him?—Begone!
WAR
Yet not
Without me shalt thou win Miranda.


126
CALIBAN
CALIBAN
(Fiercely.)
Go!
WAR
[Returning within the cell, disappears as his voice dies
away.]
Remember War! Miranda shall be thine!
CALIBAN
(Hoarsely.)
Miranda-mine!
ARIEL
[Comes running from the throne entrance.]
Ho, pupil, now be merry!
Great Prosper sleeps, and from his slumber sends
thee
A dream of fairy laughter.
CALIBAN
[Darkly, amazed.]
Laughter!
ARIEL
Aye,
An English make-believe of antic elves
And merry wives, to douse the lustful fire


CALIBAN
127
Of old John Falstaff, lured to Windsor Forest.-
Our Master deems thou hast learned art enough
To laugh at apings of it.
CALIBAN
(Still amazed, but curious.]
Laugh?
ARIEL
Aye, list!
(Caliban stands on one side, with arms folded and
listens.]
To Windsor's magic oak now turn:
There his fatty bulk in guise
Of the hornèd hunter Herne-
Big Sir John in ambush lies
Where the counterfeited fays
Troop along the forest ways: .
How his lust will cease to burn
For the Merry Wives—now gaze
Yonder by the oak, and learn!
(Ariel raises his staff. Parting, the Cloudy Curtains
disclose
THE NINTH INNER SCENE
The gigantic trunk of an oak rises in moonlight, sur-
rounded by the glimmering purple of the obscure
forest.


128
CALIBAN
Trooping from the left, enter the disguised Fairies, follow-
ing their leader Sir Hugh Evans.]
EVANS
Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your parts:
be pold, I pray you; follow me into the pit; and when
I give the watch 'ords, do as I pid you: Come,
come; trib, trib.
[They conceal themselves.
A distant chiming sounds as Falstaff enters, dis-
guised as Herne, wearing a stag's head with great
horns.]
FALSTAFF
The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute
draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me!
Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa;
love set on thy horns. O powerful love! That, in
some respects, makes a beast a man, in some other
a man a beast.
CALIBAN
[Listening intently near the edge of the scene.]
A man a beast!
FALSTAFF
Think on 't, Jove: Where gods have hot backs, what
shall poor men do? For me, I am here a Windsor
stag; and the fattest, I think, i' the forest. Send
me a cool rut-time, Jove! Who comes here? My
doe?
[Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.]


CALIBAN
129
MRS. FORD
Sir John! Art thou there, my deer? My male
deer?
FALSTAFF
My doe with the black scut! Let the sky rain potatoes,
let it thunder to the tune of green sleeves; I will
shelter me here.
MRS. FORD
Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart.
FALSTAFF
Divide me like a bribe buck, each a haunch: Am I a
woodman, ha? Speak I like Herne the hunter?
As I am a true spirit, welcome!
[Noise within.]
MRS. PAGE
Alas, what noise?
MRS. FORD
Heaven forgive our sins!
FALSTAFF
What should this be?
MRS. PAGE AND MRS. FORD
Away! Away!
[They run off.]


130
CALIBAN
FALSTAFF
I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil
that's in me should set hell on fire; he would never
else cross me thus.
[Enter Sir Hugh Evans, disguised as before; Pistol,
as Hobgoblin; Mistress Quickly, Anne Page, and
others as Fairies, with tapers.]
MRS. QUICKLY
Fairies, black, gray, green, and white,
You moonshine revellers, and shades of night,
You orphan heirs of fixed destiny,
Attend your office and your quality.
Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes.
PISTOL
Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys!
FALSTAFF
They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die:
I'll wink and couch: no man their works must eye.
[He lies upon his face.]
EVANS
Where's Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid
That, ere she sleeps, has thrice her prayers said,
Raise up the organs of her fantasy;


CALIBAN
131
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy!
But those as sleep and think not on their sins
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and
shins!
CALIBAN
[Growing excitedly absorbed.]
Ha, pinch them, saith!
MRS. QUICKLY
Away; disperse: but till 'tis one o'clock,
Our dance of custom round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.
EVANS
Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set;
And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be
To guide our measure round about the tree.
But, stay; I smell a man of middle-earth.
FALSTAFF
Heaven defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he
transform me to a piece of cheese!
PISTOL
Vile worm, thou wast o’erlook'd even in thy birth.


132
CALIBAN
MRS. QUICKLY
With trial-fire touch me his finger-end:
If he be chaste, the flame will back descend
And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.
PISTOL
A trial, come.
EVANS
Come, will this wood take fire?
[They burn him with their tapers.]
FALSTAFF
Oh! Oh! Oh!
CALIBAN
[Crying out.]
Ah, ah! They plague him, too!
MRS. QUICKLY
Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!
About him, Fairies; sing a scornful rhyme;
And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time.
ALL
[As they dance about him, pinch, burn him, and
sing:]
Fie on sinful fantasy!
Fie on lust and luxury!


CALIBAN
135
THE VOICE
Miranda shall be thine!
CALIBAN
Mine!-Yea, now I am mocked to know myself
What rutting stag I am! And her, the doe
I mate, my horns shall battle for, and be
Mine own-mine, mine! Miranda!
MIRANDA
Coming from within, right, raises her hand in gentle
warning.)
Hush thy tone;
My father slumbers yet.
[Showing Prospero's hood, which she carries.]
He hath put by
This hood, wherein he sends thee here another
Visioning.
CALIBAN
(Stares at her, breathing hard.]
So: what now?
ARIEL
[To Miranda.]
He rages, Mistress.
Beware! He babbleth of War.


136
CALIBAN
MIRANDA
Why, then he conjures
The dream my father sends: another picture,
Painted in gules on England's ancient shield:
King Harry, by the high walls of Harfleur.
(To Caliban.)
So you may learn, good friend, how noblest natures
Are moved to tiger passions—by a painting
Called Honor, dearer than their brothers' lives.
CALIBAN
Why will he show me this?
MIRANDA
Perchance that you,
Born of a tiger's loins, seeing that picture,
May recognize an image of yourself
And so recoil to reason and to love.
CALIBAN
So, mocketh me once more?
MIRANDA
Nay, never that.
But let us look thereon, and learn together.
CALIBAN
[Starts toward her, but curbs himself, trembling.]
Together!


CALIBAN
137
137
MIRANDA
[To Ariel.]
Hold his magic hood and conjure.
ARIEL
[Taking the hood of Prospero.]
Image of Strife, may never more
Your like draw near!
Pageant of long-forgotten War,
Appear!
Harry of England, lo, is here!
(As Ariel lifts Prospero's hood on the staff, the Cloudy
Curtains part, and discover
THE TENTH INNER SCENE
Before high mediæval walls, partly shattered, to pealing
of trumpets, appear in their armor, King Henry the
Fifth, and his nobles, surrounded by soldiers, with
cross-bows and scaling-ladders.
Standing above on a parapet, the King is exhorting them
with vehement ardor.
KING HENRY
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with the English dead!
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:


138
CALIBAN
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favor'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect. . . .
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noble English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of War-proof! ...
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt
not. . . .
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot.
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry, “God for Harry, England, and Saint George!”
THE SOLDIERS
[With a great shout.]
Ho, God for Harry, England, and Saint George!
(As they leap forward, to the blare of trumpets, and
begin to scale the ladders,
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE
[Instantly Caliban, seizing from the staff the hood of
Prospero, shakes it aloft and shouts:]



PRELIMINARY SKETCH FOR TENTH INNER SCENE: JONES





140
CALIBAN
habiliments, followed by the groups of Lust and
Death.
Bearing lighted torches, amid the roaring of Setebos
choruses, flashing fireworks and bombs, they swarm
upon the half-obscure stage.
Led by War, the flame-colored hordes clash with the
Spirits of Ariel, overcome them, and take captive
Miranda, Prospero, and Ariel.
As War holds Miranda in his power, Prospero con-
fronts Caliban who-wearing his hood and raising
his staf-exults before him:]
Hail, Prospero! Who now is master-artist!
Who wieldeth now the world?
PROSPERO
Hail, Caliban!
Slumb'ring, from me thou robb'st my hood and staff
Which wield my power; yet not mine art they wield
Without my will: my will thou canst not rob
Nor ravish.
CALIBAN
[With eyes gleaming.)
But Miranda!
PROSPERO
Nay, nor her:
For she is charmed against thy body's rape


CALIBAN
141
By chastity of soul. Thy will and War
May break, but cannot build the world: And One,
Who bore us all within her womb, still lives
To stanch our wounds with her immortal healing.
CALIBAN
Where?
PROSPERO
[Pointing.]
Yonder, on the Yellow Sands! She rises now
And calls across the tides of fleeting change
Her deathless artists of the plastic mind-
My art that builds the beauty of the world.


EPILOGUE
Where Prospero points, the light passes from the
pageant of War to the centre of the Yellow Sands.
There, in mellow splendor, a serene female Figure,
rising majestic from the altar, calls to the thronging
shadows.
THE SPIRIT OF TIME
Children of men, my passionate children, hark!
To-day and Yesterday I am To-morrow:
Out of my primal dark
You dawn-my joy, my sorrow.
Lovers of life, you rapturous lovers, lo
The lives you clutch are by my lightnings riven:
Yea, on my flux and flow,
Like sea-birds tempest-driven.
Yet from my founts of life, fecund, divine,
Still dauntless lovers dare my dark tribunal,
Building a common shrine
To hold their love communal.
142


144
CALIBAN
producers, musicians, directors, and inventors of its
art.
First come the great Actors, in the guise of their great-
est rôles—from Thespis and Roscius of old to Irving,
Salvini, Coquelin, Booth, of modern times, the comic
actors tumbling forth from the Mask of Comedy, the
tragic from the Tragic Mask.
They are followed by national groups of the great
Dramatists from Æschylus to Ibsen, who pass in review
before Prospero.
Among these, with the Elizabethan Dramatists,
grouped with Marlowe, Green, Jonson, Beaumont, and
Fletcher, and others, appears the modest figure of
Shakespeare, at first unemphasized.
For one moment, however, as Shakespeare himself
approaches Prospero, he pauses, Prospero rises, and the
two figures-strangely counterparts to their beholders-
look in each other's eyes: a moment only. For Prospero,
slipping off his cloak, lays it on the shoulders of Shake-
speare, who sits in Prospero's place, while Prospero
moves silently off with the group of Dramatists.
Finally, when these pageants of Time have passed,
and the stately Spirit of Time vanished in dark on the
Yellow Sands, the only light remains on the figure of
Shakespeare—and the two with him: Ariel tiptoe be-
hind him, peering over his shoulder; Miranda beside him,
leaning forward, with lips parted to speak.


CALIBAN
145
Then to these, out of the dimness, comes forth Caliban.
Groping, dazed, he reaches his arms toward the dark
circle, where the stately Spirit has vanished. In a voice
hoarse with feeling, he speaks aloud.
CALIBAN
Lady of the Yellow Sands! O Life! O Time!
Thy tempest blindeth me: Thy beauty baffleth.
A little have I crawled, a little only
Out of mine ancient cave. All that I build
I botch; all that I do destroyeth my dream.
Yet—yet I yearn to build, to be thine Artist
And stablish this thine Earth among the stars-
Beautiful!
[Turning to the light, where the Three are grouped.]
- bright Beings, help me still!
More visions-visions, Master!
[With gesture of longing, he crouches at Shakespeare's
feet, gazing up in his face, which looks on him
with tenderness. With Caliban, Miranda too ap-
peals to the Cloaked Figure.]
MIRANDA
(Wistfully.]
-Master?
[To her raised eyes, he returns a pensive smile.]


146
CALIBAN
SHAKESPEARE
[As Prospero]
“Child,
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.”
[Then, while the light focusses and fades in darkness on
the pensive form of Shakespeare, the choirs of
Ariel's Spirits repeat, unseen, in song:]
THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL
“We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep."
FINIS





CONTENTS OF APPENDIX
I. FOREWORD
His
2. PERSONS AND PRESENCES (OF THE TEN INNER
SCENES)
3. INTERLUDES I, II, III
4. EPILOGUE
5. ANNOUNCEMENTS


FOREWORD
The actors of a Community Masque being mem-
bers of the community, it becomes the function of
the Masque-director to reverse the traditional order
of theatrical procedure and so far as possible—to
take the public, as participants, into the confidence
of “behind the scenes” beforehand.
If this were a play only (in the Broadway sense),
I should gather together my staff and company for
a preliminary reading, assign parts, devise plans of
rehearsal, and get personally in touch with the com-
paratively few persons involved in its production.
Being, however, a new kind of drama, involving some
thousands of persons as actors, and some scores of
leaders as a projected staff, it becomes practically
necessary to print and publish, before production,
not only the foregoing spoken and sung Masque-
Proper, but the sketched-in outlines of the non-
speaking Interludes which follow.
In the nature of the case, these outlines are pre-
liminary and (though necessarily printed here] are
still plastic and susceptible to various modifications.
Thus publication at the moment in New York is
OL
151


154
APPENDIX
Peixotto, and members of the Spanish-speaking com-
munity,for the Spanish-Italian;the New York Branch
of the English Folk-Dance Society, under direction
of Mr. Cecil Sharp, for the Interlude of Elizabethan
England; the American Academy and National Insti-
tute of Arts and Letters (Chairman, Mr. William
Dean Howells), for the Epilogue.
As indicated in the Inner Structure Chart, an Ac-
tion of ancient India* was originally planned for the
beginning of Interlude I. This was chiefly devised,
in conference with the author and director, by the
director of the community Interludes, Mr. Garnet
Holme, who has brought to this New York production
his very valuable experience in directing outdoor
festivals in California and England. Owing, how-
ever, to brevity of time and the pressure of organiza-
tion details, this Action has been omitted from the
production in May.
Of the other members of the producing staff of
the Interludes, Mrs. Robert Anderson contributes
to her direction of the community dances her admi-
rable knowledge of the subject, and Mrs. John W.
*The plan for this India episode is based on a ritual scene of the ancient
Hindu drama “Shakuntala,” by Kalidasa, translated by Garnet Holme
and Arthur W. Ryder, and recently produced by the authors in California.
The translation is published by University of California Press, Berkeley,
1914. Those communities that may desire to include this Action in their
local festivals should communicate with Mr. Garnet Holme, care of The
Shakespeare Celebration, 10 East 43rd Street, New York City.


COMMUNITY MASQUE
« CALIBAN"
INNER STRUCTURE,
PROLOGUE
EJEBIS SI CORAXCALIBAN-ARIEL: MIRANDA PROSPÉROLE
IST INTERLUDE W
INDIA EGYPT
GREECE
ROME

2079
ACT I
GROILUS)
SRUTUS)
2N0INTERLUDE L
GERMANIC
FRENCH
SPANISH ITALIAN
No 15 MINUTES 20 MINUTES 20 MINUTES 20MINUTES 20MINUTES 20MINUTES 20 MINUTES 25 MINUTES
(HAMLETY
E
3PINTERLUDE
RLUDE
RETETTEL
ACTIE
(CLOTH OF GOLDI
GLORENZO-R
ELIZABETHAN ENGLAND
100
ACTI.
(FALSTAFFL
ENRY V.
EPILOGUE
THEATRES
ACTORS
DRAMATISTS
SHAKESPEARE
2HRS., 40MINUTES.
SHADED: MASQUE PROPER: SPEAKING ACTORS (ABOUT 30)
MUTE FIGURANTS (ABOUT 300)
INVISIBLE CHOIRS
ACTION ON STAGES A & B OF GROUND PLAN
WHITE: INTERLUDES & EPILOGUE: NON-SPEAKING PARTICIPANTS (ABOUT 2,000)
VISIBLE CHORUSES
COMMUNITY DANCES
PANTOMIME ACTING
MASS MOVEMENTS
ACTION ON STAGE C OF GROUND PLAN





156
APPENDIX
ance on so large a scale is a special technique, only
recently in process of development. As a contribu-
tion to this technique, the appended Community
Organization Chart has been drawn up by my sister,
Hazel MacKaye, who has brought to it her experi-
ence, of several years, in organizing and directing
community pageants and masques, some of them of
her own authorship.
Space and time do not permit of further comment
in this Foreword on many important social relation-
ships and reactions involved in this new community
art. The accompanying photograph, however, of a
Community Masque audience-150,000 citizens of
Saint Louis gathered in May, 1914, to witness the
Pageant and Masque of Saint Louis, in which over
7,000 of their fellow-citizens took part-may be sug-
gestive to the imagination of the reader. On the
background may be seen, at centre, the thousand-
foot stage, and, at left and right, the tents of the
community actors, men and women.
Space and time also do not permit of any adequate
emphasis upon the enormous importance, and con-
tribution to this growing art-form, of music in its
community, aspects. In this respect, the splendid
pioneering work of Mr. Harry H. Barnhart in cre-
ating community choruses in Rochester and New
York City is fundamentally significant. In the



A COMMUNITY MASQUE AUDIENCE
Copyright, 1914, by E. 0. Thalinger, St. Louis
150,000 SPECTATORS OF THE PAGEANT AND MASQUE OF SAINT LOUIS, IN WHICH 7,500 CITIZENS TOOK PART, MAY, 1914
(IN BACKGROUND, CENTRE, THE STAGE; RIGHT AND LEFT, TENTS OF ACTORS]


г.
-
- -
-
-
-


APPENDIX
157
creative field of composition, rich in its manifold
promise, Mr. Arthur Farwell, director of the New
York Music School Settlement, and composer of the
music of this Masque, has devoted probably more
attention than any other American composer to this
community type of musical art.
To the Shakespeare Celebration of New York, since
its origin last year in activities of the Drama League,
Miss Mary Porter Beegle, of Barnard College, has
contributed her unflagging zest and enthusiasm, Mr.
Howard Kyle his disinterested, manifold services, Miss
Kate Oglebay her remarkable thoroughness in organ-
izing the Supplementary Celebrations.
In his original and deeply based work of experiment,
through channels of the People's Institute and the
School for Community Centre Workers, Mr. John
Collier has shown fundamental leadership in a field
all-important to the community purposes of this
Masque: the modern economics and organization of
coöperative art.
As this Foreword goes to press, Prof. Richard Or-
dynski has joined Mr. Urban in the work of the
Masque's New York production.
To Mr. Everard Thompson, producers and com-
mittees alike are indebted for his unfailing, friendly
resourcefulness.
As references to the reader curious to study the art


THE MASQUE CELEBRATION
ORGANIZATION-PLAN
EXECUTIVE.COM
BUSINESS.COM
STAFF
DIRECTOR
COMMUNITY.COM
OFFICE. FORCE
CAST.COM
COSTUMES: PROPER
MUSIC-COMMITEE
PUBLICITY.COM.
INDEXING-OF-CAST
ORGANIZERS-OT
EPISODES
PRODUCER
MANING
RECRUITING
POSTERS
CHAPERONS
REPRESHMENTS
PARTICIPANTS
INTERIVOUS-MER
SCENES
STAGE-MAMAGER
RENTING
LEADERS
PRINTING'or CAROS
AMD NOTICES
SENDING OPPOST
CARDS NOTICES
PRESS
REST-ROOMS AMO
-FIRST-AID -
LEADERS-OF-Episo
ASSISTENT STAGE
MANAGER
STORAGE
REHEARSALS-
ODGE
LECTURES
MASS-MROTINOS
SANITATION
CORRESPOMOENCE
REHEARSALS
Music DIRECTOR
DISTRIBUTiOne
TRANSPORTER
TICKETS
COSTUME-DIR
POLICING
PROPERTY-DİR
USHERS
LIGHT DIRECTOR
PUBLICATIONS
-PROGRAMM
BULLETINS
DATKCE-DIRECTOR
- T
RECRUITING-DIR
RNMOUNCEMENS
MASQUE
REHEARSALS
DRESS-REHEARS
OF WHOLE MASQUE
PERFORMANCE





160
APPENDIX
PANTOMIME GROUPS
Trojan Warriors
Trojan Populace
THIRD INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
Brutus
Lucius, a boy
Ghost of Cæsar
MUTE PRESENCES
Shapes in the Darkness
FOURTH INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
SAINT AGNES (An Image)
A SHEPHERD (Impersonated by Prospero)
A SHEPHERD Boy (Impersonated by Ariel]
OTHER SHEPHERDS
FIFTH INNER SCENE
SPEAKING PERSONS
Hamlet
Horatio
Marcellus
MUTE PERSONS
The Ghost of Hamlet's Father
SIXTH INNER SCENE
[Derivative from Shakespeare]
PANTOMIME PERSONS AND GROUPS
King Henry the Eighth, of England
King Francis the First, of France
Their Soldiers and Followers


APPENDIX
165
his body into seven parts and finally the joy of his
resurrection.*
In rhythm to the primitive music, the Priests re-
volve the disk to the dancing movement of the god.
In this revolving movement his Worshippers below
join in à dance on the ground (expressive of the
blending of the seven parts of his body), where one
by one successively the seven Processions encircle
the altar and the dancing Osiris. As they do so,
they slough off their dark garments, weaving thus a
whirling movement in which the proportion of black
ever diminishes while the golden yellow increases,
until finally-in a blaze only of gold-yellow radiance
—the Priests raise aloft on its pedestal the disk, still
spinning, while the flame-red god, still dancing, is
borne away in procession by his joyous Worshippers,
shouting aloud their shrill cries of “Osiris!”
When all have disappeared through the south
gate of the circle, Prospero on his throne speaks to
Ariel,† announcing the Second Action of the Inter-
lude his art of the drama in Greece.
* See “Kings and Gods of Egypt,” Alexandre Moret; pp. 69-108.
Similarly before each of the Actions of each Interlude, Prospero
makes a brief explanatory comment to Ariel (and thus to the audience).


166
APPENDIX
-
INTERLUDE I
SECOND ACTION: GREEK
COMMUNITY ACTORS [175]
Comprise
PARTICIPANTS (100]
Individuals [2]
Actors [9]
Sophocles
Antigone
The Choregus*
Ismene
Friends of Sophocles [20] Creon
Aristophanes
Haemon
Socrates
Eurydice
Anaxagoras
Teiresias
Alcibiades
A Watchman
Euripides
A Messenger
Fifteen Others
A Second Messenger
Chorus [60]
Trainers and Stage
Choreutai (In four bands, Leaders [5]
fifteen in each band.] Chorodidaskalos [Chorus
Master]
Musicians [4]
Orchestrodidaskalos
Four Flute-players [Dancing Master]
Choryphaios [Stage Cho-
rus Leader]
Two Parastatai [His As-
sistant Leaders]
*The Choregus was the Producer, usually a man of great wealth.


APPENDIX
167
FIGURANTS [75]
Athenian Audience [75]
Pericles
Aspasia
Seventy-three Others.
TUS
THEME
Sophocles rehearses the Second Chorus of his
drama “Antigone” in the Theatre of Dionysus, at
Athens, B. C. 440.
ACTION
At the sounding of Interlude trumpets, the light
passes to the great gates of the ground-circle, from
which simultaneously two main groups enter.
From the right enter Athenian Citizens, accom-
panying Pericles and Aspasia. These move forward
to the north portion of the Yellow Sands [between
the centre of stage B and the altar) and there form the
semicircle of an antique audience, which faces the
altar and the modern audience. Among these, two
seats are placed for Aspasia and Pericles.
From the left gate, meanwhile, has entered the
Choregus (producer of the play], in conversation with
Sophocles, followed closely by a group of twenty
friends, among whom are Socrates, Aristophanes,
Anaxagoras, Alcibiades, and Euripides. These move


168
APPENDIX
toward the centre. There Sophocles summons the
Chorodidaskalos (Chorus Master), and the Orches-
trodidaskalos (Dancing Master) to confer with him
and the Choregus. Returning part way toward
the left gate, the Chorus Master calls aloud
“Antigone!”
Enter, then (left), the Actor of the part of Anti-
gone, followed by a group of Actors comprising the
impersonators of Ismene, Creon, Haemon, Eurydice,
Teiresias, a Watchman, and two Messengers. With
these, who carry their classic masks in their hands,
the Choregus confers in pantomime, directs them to
join Sophocles at the altar, and then calls aloud:
“Choreutai!”
Thereupon enter the Choreutai Members of the
Chorus), sixty in number, in four bands, fifteen in
each band. Preceded by the Choryphaios [Stage
Chorus Leader) and four Flute-players (one for each
band), escorted by two Parastatai (Assistant Leaders),
the Chorus march in military order first south (each
band in three ranks of five men] till they are opposite
the altar, then east (each band in five files of three
men), till they halt near the altar.
Here, after Sophocles has greeted Pericles and
Aspasia nearby in the impromptu audience (which
his group of friends have now joined], after he has
chatted with Socrates, and been chaffed by Aris-


APPENDIX
169
tophanes and Alcibiades, he turns with the Choregus
to conduct the rehearsal.
After giving directions to Antigone and Ismene,
who rehearse in pantomime a snatch of their first
scene together, and after a few instructions to Hae-
mon, Euripides, and Teiresias, Sophocles now bids
the Choregus direct the last few passages between
Creon and the Messenger, just before the Second
Chorus in the play.
They do so in pantomime; Creon, with final threat-
ening gesture to the Messenger, makes his exit, and
the Messenger—thanking the gods for his escape
from Creon's anger—also departs.
And now, by direction of Sophocles, the Chorus
Master and the Master of Dance make signal to the
Chorus and the Flute-players; Sophocles steps back
near Pericles and his other friends: the Flutists begin
playing and, under leadership of the two masters
of choral song and of dance, the Chorus—with vigor-
ous, rhythmic cadence of their athletic bodies—per-
form an austere dance about the altar, raising to its
measure their choral song:


170
APPENDIX
CHORUS
The words of this chorus are translated here by the author from the
Second Chorus of Sophocles' play "Antigone."
Many are the wonders of time, but the mightiest wonder
is man;
Man ! for he maketh his path with the south wind, over
the surges
Down where the storm-white billows
Loom to devour him: Yea,
And Earth, the immortal, the oldest of gods,
The untoilsome, he tameth with toiling horses
Dark where his turning ploughshare
Plougheth from age unto age.
Birds, O the wild-hearted birds, and the breeds of the
savage wood
Deep in his woven nets he hath snared, and the broods
of the bright sea
Leadeth he likewise captive-
Master of masters, Man!
And high on the hills he hath tracked to her wild
The shaggy-maned horse and yoked her in harness;
Tireless, too, hath his spirit
Tamed the wild mountain bull.


APPENDIX
171
Words, and the wind of great thought, and the mood that
mouldeth a state,
These hath he mastered, and knoweth to parry the white
frost arrow's
Pitiless barb, and the pouring
Arrows of purple rain.
All, all hath he mastered, and all that may come
He meeteth with cunning and power; but only
Death hath he failed to master:
Death is the master of man.
As they conclude, a runner comes hastening from
the right gate, calling “Pericles!”.
Pericles rises, receives in pantomime the message
of the runner, and indicates to Sophocles that he must
return to the city.
He and Aspasia and their followers depart (right
gate). With a gesture, then, to the Choregus, So-
phocles dismisses the rehearsal; he and his friends
follow the others; the Chorus forms again in files and
ranks, moving off with the playing Flute-players to
the right Interlude gate, where all disappear.


APPENDIX
173
Omphale, a Nymph (afterward disguised as the
Sphinx]
Mimes and Dancers [32]
16 Boy-Mimes, as Fauns
16 Girl-Mimes, as Nymphs
THEME
The Emperor Caligula witnesses a farcical comedy
in pantomime, enacted in a street of Rome, A. D. 40.
ACTION
As the last of the Greeks disappear right, the Inter-
lude trumpets sound at the left gate. There immedi-
ately resounds a great shout and clamor of voices,
crying aloud: “Caligula! Salve, Imperator!” The
gate is thrown open, and the Roman populace throng
in, accompanying-in varied groups of squalor and
poverty—the gorgeous Patricians that escort the
Emperor Caligula, borne in a chariot, behind which
follow a troupe of Roman Pantomime Actors
and Mimes who carry a light platform with cur-
tain, which they set up (centre, north), facing the
altar.
The curtain is painted to represent the street ex-
terior of a house, in the Pompeian-Roman style. In
the centre, set in a lintel frame, is depicted a wide


APPENDIX
175
particolored figure, garbed antiquely as a harlequin,
wreathed and masked.*
Behind Pantomimus, enter (on either side of him]
two little Pantomimi, half his height, exactly resem-
bling him in every particular. These, as with skip-
ping step and motion Pantomimus makes his intro-
duction, imitate his every movement of wand and
gesture.
By his action, which is accompanied by flute,
cymbal, and scabilla players, Pantomimus describes
very briefly the plot of the comedy which is to follow,
viz:
THE SPHINX AND HERCULES
THEME
Hercules, lured by the nymph Omphale to live
with her a woman's way of life, becomes terribly
bored, rebels, and vows to a statue of the Sphinx to
resume his manly exploits. By the help of the
satyr Silenus, however, who makes Hercules drunk,
Omphale—in guise of the Sphinx-wins Hercules
back and marries him.
*In one hand Pantomimus carries a wand resembling a caduceus,
but differing from that of Mercury in that the heads of the twining
snakes are carved as little masks of comedy, and the tip of the wand, to
which the flying wings are affixed, is the shining disk of a mirror, into
which at times Pantomimus peers quaintly at his reflection.
The Pantomime is adapted from a Roman Interlude by the author
in his drama “Sappho and Phaon."


APPENDIX
177
tiful and amorous nymph. Over her shoulders she
wears his lion's skin; in one hand she holds his massive
club; with the other she caresses him.
With coquetting wiles, the Nymphs in their danc-
ing draw the two toward the centre, where they sit
beside the wool-Hercules, with heavy sighs, begin-
ning to spin, while Omphale, posing in the lion's
skin, approves his labor. Here the Nymphs, re-
clined about them on the platform and the ground,
execute a rhythmic dance with their arms and dis-
taffs, singing to their movement:
Angustam amice pauperiem pati
robustus acri militia puer
condiscat et Parthos feroces
vexet eques metuendus hasta
vitamque sub divo et trepides agat
in rebus. illum ex moenibus hosticis
matrona bellanti tyranni
prospiciens et adulta virgo
suspiret, eheu, ne rudis agminum
sponsus lacessat regius asperum
tactu leonem, quem cruenta
per medias rapit ira caedes.
At the culmination of this, Hercules, who has been
· repelling the attentions of Omphale, at first with


A P PENDIX
· 179
leading a goat, astride of which sits Silenus, an old
grotesque Satyr, in mask.
Omphale greets him joyfully and helps him down
from the goat. She then describes to him in panto-
mime the late outburst of Hercules—his breaking
the spindle, his enamoration for the Sphinx, etc., and
prays his aid and advice.
Silenus pauses an instant in philosophical absorp-
tion, then gives a leap and skip. Omphale, seeing
that he has hit on some plan, expresses her pleasure
and inquires what his plan may be. Silenus bids her
call a slave. Omphale claps her hands toward the
left entrance. Servus enters. Silenus signs to him.
Servus goes back and returns immediately, rolling
in a wine-cask, from which he fills an antique beaker.
From this Silenus sips and approves. He then points
to the Sphinx and asks if be that of which Hercules
is enamored. Omphale assents. Silenus then di-
rects Servus to lift the Sphinx down from the pillar.
Servus does so, revealing its hollow interior as he
carries it. Silenus, drawing Omphale's attention to
this fact of its hollowness, opens the door in the cur-
tain, and commands Servus to bear the Sphinx
within. Servus does so. Silenus, then, pointing to
the window above the door, whispers in the ear of
Omphale, who, delighted, enters the door after Ser-
vus. Silenus closes the door as Hercules reënters, left.


180
APPENDIX
The hero has discarded his woman's garb, and
comes forward now dressed as a man, with lion's skin
and club—his mask changed to one of an exultant
and martial expression.
Silenus greets him with obsequious and cunning
servility and offers him wine. Hercules, with good-
natured hauteur, condescends to accept the cup
which he offers. While he is drinking, the window
above in the curtain opens, and Omphale thrusts
her head out, revealing (within] beside her own, the
Sphinx's head. Silenus secretively motions her to
be cautious. Seeing his gesture, Hercules looks up,
but not swiftly enough to detect Omphale, who with-
draws. Again looking forth, as he turns to drink
again, Omphale mocks Hercules below, dropping
wisps of wool on his head, the source of which, how-
ever, Hercules fails to detect. Silenus explains that
the wool is really feathers, which fell from a bird
flying overhead.
Hercules now, under the sly persuasions of the old
Satyr, grows more pleased with the wine, and becomes
drunk-as he becomes so, expressing to Silenus,
with increasing familiarity and descriptive force, all
the mighty exploits he intends to accomplish in the
service of the incomparable Sphinx, whose living
prototype he declares he will immediately set forth
in search of.


APPENDIX
181
Starting now, humorously drunk, to depart [right]
he is detained by Silenus, who points upward to the
window, where now the blank, immovable face of the
Sphinx looks forth at the sky. Hercules, bewildered,
asks Silenus if it is really the Sphinx herself and alive?
Silenus assents and proves his assertion by pointing
to the deserted pedestal. At this, Hercules addresses
the Sphinx, with impassioned gestures. The Sphinx
remains immovable. Hercules becomes discour-
aged. Silenus then puts a pipe in his hand, and tells
him to play it. He does so, and is rewarded by a
slow, preternatural look from the Sphinx. At this
he plays more vociferously and, surrounded by the
little piping Fauns, performs a serenade beneath the
casement, while Silenus, looking on from a distance,
rubs his hands with sly delight.
The serenade ends by Hercules, on his knees, im-
ploring the Sphinx to come down. The Sphinx at
length consents and the casement closes. Silenus
calls his Fauns away to the edge of the foliage, and
Hercules goes to the door.
For a moment nothing happens and Hercules
knocks on the steps impatiently with his club. Then
the door opens and enter the Sphinx-dressed below
in the Greek garments of Omphale, but from the
waist upward consisting of the sitting image of the
Sphinx, beneath whose closed wings the arms of


182
APPENDIX
an
Omphale are thrust through and have place for
motion.
The Sphinx, its tail swinging behind, descends the
steps, reticent and impassive, attended by Hercules,
drunk and enamored.
Then at the foot of the steps, to the accompani-
ment from the foliage of the piping Fauns, who play
softly a variation of the serenade theme, Hercules
woos the Sphinx, who, at the proper moment, suc-
cumbs to his entreaties. After embracing him
amorously, she extends her hand to him. He seizes
it to kiss; she withdraws it and signifies that he must
put a ring on the ring-finger. Hercules hunts about
him in vain for the ring. Calling then to Silenus and
the Fauns, he explains to them the situation.
Silenus, producing a ring, hands it to Hercules,
who puts it on the finger of the Sphinx.
Instantly a clash of cymbals is heard from the
left, and a clapping of palms from the right, and re-
enter the dancing Nymphs, who encircle the scene
just as Servus removes from the bride the great mask
of the Sphinx, thereby revealing her to the astounded
Hercules—as Omphale, who embraces him, exulting
in her ring.
Just as she is embracing and kissing him, the
scene is interrupted by a cry of jealous rage from


APPENDIX
183
Caligula who springs from his chariot, calling:
“Hercules!” At his gesture slaves run before him,
seize Hercules, and hale him toward Caligula, who
bids them whip him. Frightened, for an instant,
Omphale (the Mime Naevoleia] then hastens as if
to intercede, but, seeing Caligula's expression, taunts
him with toying bravado, and finally as he kisses her
makes him burst with her into laughter, as Hercules
is dragged off through the hooting crowd, flogged by
· Caligula's slaves. (During the latter part of this
Roman Action, LUST has appeared at the mouth of
Caliban's cell and looked on. His voice now joins
the loud laughter of Caligula.]
Dispersing in confusion, the Pantomime Actors
remove their curtain and platform [right] into the
darkness, which now envelops also Caligula and the
Roman populace.
20.]
END OF INTERLUDE I


APPENDIX
185
a pantomime scene from an early version of “Doctor
Faustus.” Time: Sixteenth century.
ACTION
At Prospero's final words in Act I, the playing of
pipes is heard at the right Interlude Gates, where
enter a band of Apprentices, accompanying a wheeled
street-stage, drawn by donkeys with bells and set
with a three-fold scene of Earth, Heaven, and Hell.
Some of the Apprentices are masked, some disguised
as fools. They enter, singing an old German folk
song, and march to the centre of the ground-circle
(between the altar and the south entrance), where the
stage pauses. Before them has hastened a forerun-
ner (Einschreier), blowing a horn and shouting:
“Schauspieler! Doctor Faustus!”
Along with them, Pipers accompany their singing.
Behind them follow folk of Nüremberg, gaping peas-
ants and merry-making young people.
From the left gate, meanwhile [in obscurer light],
enters a graver group, clad symbolically as Doctors
of Learning, Priests, and Artists, accompanying
another wheeled vehicle, the stage of which is wholly
curtained from view.
These stop at some distance from the former group,
and look on from a place of shadow.
And now, where the first stage has paused in a


186
APPENDIX
piace of brighter glow, the Actors appear and begin
their pantomime.
Doctor Faustus appears on the Middle Stage,
Earth. There, amid his astronomical instruments,
he greets the gaping crowd and points a telescope
toward the place of Heaven. Suddenly a comet
flashes above the stage. An Apprentice inquires
the reason. Doctor Faustus explains it by revealing
its two fathers—the Sun and the Moon, which now
appear shining simultaneously in Heaven.
At this sorcery, Lucifer comes from Hell, signifies
to Faustus that his hour has come, and that he must
follow him. Faustus begs a last wish, which Lucifer
reluctantly grants. He begs to see once more his
beloved Helena of Troy.
Then in Heaven appears Helena, who comes to
Faustus on Earth and embraces him. But now
Lucifer-summoning two tailed devils with pitch-
forks—bids them drag Faustus from the arms of
Helena, who flees back to Heaven, disappearing
there, as Faustus is prodded and haled to the up-
bursting flames of Hell, amid the exultant laughter of
Lucifer.
At this finale, the stage and its audience moves off
through the left gate, while the graver Symbolic
Group—crossing right in deep shadow-pauses at
the centre.


APPEN DIX
189
The servants set up at centre (just south of Cali-
ban's cell] a gorgeous canopy with two thrones, in
which the two Kings, dismounting, take their seats,
the French followers grouped on the left, the English
on the right.
Then to the royal presence, a Herald summons, by
trumpet call, two Tourney-riders (French and Eng-
lish), who come riding in armor, from the south gate,
on horses caparisoned with their national colors and
symbols.
Taking their places, at signal again of the Herald,
to shouts of the spectators, they ride at each other
with set lances, in a mock battle—which comprises
two actions.
In the first action, the French rider is unhorsed,
in the second, the English rider.
During both actions, the English cry “St. George
for England!” the French “Vive la France!”
Between the two actions, the French King rises
and toasts the English King, to acclamations of the
French.
After the second action, King Henry compliments
King Francis, to acclamations of the English.
Then, as the two Kings clasp hands, both sides
shout aloud: “God save the King!” and “Vive le
Roi!” raising aloft their banners and emblems.
At the climax of this demonstration, the invisible


APPENDIX
191
Spanish Ambassador, amid the populace, during a
festa, a pantomime scene depicting an adventure of
Don Giovanni.
ACTION
When the last of the gold-clad French and English
have departed through the South Gate, a chiming
of church-bells from the gates of the north (right and
left] gives signal for the entrance there of an Italian
Festa.
From the right, enters the Doge with his Venetian
nobles, accompanied by the Italian populace; from
the left, the Spanish Ambassador and his Suite, ac-
companied by a troop of Improvised Comedy Actors,
who set up a platform on wooden horses before the
Doge and the Ambassador where they meet and
greet each other, at right of centre (north).
Here six Actors mount the platform, at the back
of which is a curtain, divided in the middle.
These are Il Capitano (the Captain), Arlecchino
(Harlequin), Il Commandatore (the Commander),
Pantalone [Pantaloon), Brighella, and Columbina
[Columbine]. They all pass behind the curtain,
through the folds in the middle.
After a moment's prelude of stringed instruments,
then, the Pantomime begins.
First, in semi-darkness, HARLEQUIN appears, carry-


192
APPENDIX
ing a lighted lantern on the end of a sword. At
a noise of laughter from behind the curtain he stops
and trembles. The laughter sounds again, deep and
harsh; Harlequin trembles so violently that the lan-
tern falls and goes out.
In the dimness, enter Il Capitano in the part of
DON GIOVANNI, muffled in an immense cloak.
Harlequin falls on his back, feigning death, but keep-
ing his sword pointing upward. Stumbling against
him, Don Giovanni draws his sword and strikes the
sword of Harlequin, who leaps up. They begin a
duel, in the midst of which they suddenly recognize
each other as friends and embrace.
Enter now bringing lanterns, which illumine the
stage more brightly] PANTALOON and BRIGHELLA.
Both are wrapped in cloaks.
Greeting Don Giovanni, who returns the greeting,
Pantaloon explains that he has a rendezvous with a
beautiful young lady (the head of Columbine having
peered momentarily through the curtain); that he
will make a certain sign to call her; that he must be
cautious, as she has a fierce and suspicious father.
Don Giovanni becomes very interested, and confides
that he, too, must attend a rendezvous, for which he
needs a disguise. For this, he persuades Pantaloon
to change cloaks with him. They do so, their serv-
ants also exchanging cloaks.


APPENDIX
193
Exeunt then Pantaloon and Brighella.
Don Giovanni now, approaching the curtain, makes
the aforesaid sign described by Pantaloon. At this,
enter COLUMBINE, who mistakes him for Panta-
loon and approaches him lovingly. He allows her to
do so, but soon-opening his cloak—he terrifies her
by his wrong identity. However, he is handsomer
than Pantaloon, and quickly wins her for himself.
In this Harlequin delightedly assists him.
Finally, just as Columbine succumbs and goes
to his arms, her father, THE COMMANDER, enters.
Seeing her in Don Giovanni's arms, he bursts into
terrible anger, draws his sword, and attacks the lover.
Harlequin tries to prevent him but fails.
Putting the frightened Columbine behind him,
Don Giovanni returns the attack with his sword,
fights and suddenly kills the Commander, who falls
motionless.
In terror, Columbine and Harlequin scream and
run out (through the curtain), leaving Don Giovanni
standing with one foot and his sword-point prodding
the dead body.
To screams and shudderings also from the horrified
onlookers of the populace, darkness falls on the
stage.
Then, as suddenly—in a burst of light—the Ac-
tors come trooping forth all together in laughter,


196
APPENDIX
INTERLUDE III
THEME
Celebration of an Elizabethan May Day Festival
on the outskirts of an English town.
ACTION
1: CONTEST BETWEEN SPRING
AND WINTER
A group of 25 young men, representing Winter,
all dressed in close-fitting black garments, enter
from Caliban's cell. They carry a ball and, com-
manded by one of their number—Frost-advance
slowly and dejectedly and lie down near the centre
of the ground guarding the ball. A group of 25
young men, dressed in tight-fitting green garments,
representing Spring, enter through the right Inter-
lude Gate. Headed by one of their number-Sun-
they come forward running and shouting. Winter*
rise and stand in defence of the ball. A scuffle
ensues and the ball is released from the scrimmage.
It is then kicked about by both sides, Spring trying
to force it toward the water,† Winter repelling it
therefrom. Sun and Frost encourage their respec-
*The words Winter and Spring refer to the respective Groups.
The water is represented by the blue ground, beyond the verge of
the Yellow Sands.


APPENDIX
197
tive supporters but do not touch the ball. Groups of
villagers come in, by twos and threes [20 to 25 in
number], and join the ranks of Spring, who are thus
enabled to overpower Winter. Eventually, one of
the Spring group secures the ball, holds it aloft and,
surrounded by his followers, runs toward the water.
Winter follow, fatigued and languid. As the Spring
man approaches the water, maidens, 10 or 12 in
number, enter from various quarters and swell the
group. The ball is then raised and ceremonially
thrown into the water; whereupon, the girls join
Spring in hunting Winter back again into their cave.
2: PROCESSIONAL DANCE THROUGH
VILLAGE
While Winter is being driven off the arena, a pro-
cession of Villagers, comprising 50 couples [i. e., part-
ners), enter through South Interlude Gate and dance
the Tideswell Processional Morris. The dancers
include men, women, and children of all classes and
are dressed in their holiday clothes, plentifully be-
decked with flowers and ribbons. Each carries two
handkerchiefs, one in each hand, or, if preferred,
boughs of May blossom. They dance round the
arena in a spiral until the front couple reach the cen-
tre; whereupon, all raise their arms and shout on the
last chord of the tune. Spring and all the actors


198
APPENDIX
already on the ground join in the procession at the
rear, or wherever they can squeeze in.
3: REVELS AND AMUSEMENTS
Upon the completion of the dance, the dancers
disperse noisily all over the ground. The children
play Singing Games, e. g., “Oats and Beans,” “Here
We Come Gathering Nuts (i. e. Knots) in May,''
“Old Sir Roger,” etc., in different parts of the ground
--not too close together. Booths and stalls are
brought in, a rustic stage* is set up, tumblers and
jugglers, surrounded by groups of spectators, give
their performances, and all unite in a scene of general
merriment. Couples, each consisting of a boy and a
girl, carry May garlands, sing May day songs, and
solicit offerings. The young men chase the girls and
kiss them “under the green,” i. e., while raising the
boughs of green over their heads.
4: MAY POLE PROCESSION
The following procession enters from South Inter-
lude Gate.
[1] Two Jack-O’-Greens
[2] Plough-boys with plough.
[3] Sowers.
[4] Reapers.
*Here the play-actors enact a scene from the old play of “Noah's
Flood.”


APPENDIX
199
[5] Wagon, drawn by several yoke of oxen, car-
rying the tree.
[6] Milkmaids.
[7] Blacksmiths.
[8] Wheelwrights.
[9] Carpenters.
(10] Butchers.
[11] Shoemakers.
[1] Hidden in bushes of green, surmounted by a
May Garland.
[2] White smocks, patched with pictures, in red
and black cloth, representing farm-animals. Hats
covered with flowers, their plough smothered with
ribbons and flowers.
[3] Carrying baskets of grain, pretending to sow.
[4] With reaping hooks or sickles.
[5] Wagon and oxen decorated with greenery and
ribbons, the horns of the oxen with flowers. The
carters, who walk on either side of the wagon, wear
broad-brimmed hats, short smocks, breeches, all
covered with ribbons and flowers, and carry whips
or goads similarly decorated, with which they urge
on the oxen.
[6] Carrying pails and dishes; wearing short .
dresses, and sun-hats or bonnets, all covered with
flowers and ribbons.


200
APPENDIX
[7] With bare heads, leathern aprons, carrying
implements of trade-hammers, anvils, tongs.
[8] Carrying or rolling wheels.
[9] With saws, planes, tools, etc.
(10] Wearing blue blouses, carrying marrow bones
and cleavers, and clashing them as they march.
When the wagon reaches the May-pit, the proces-
sion halts. The tree is ceremonially removed, ivy,
laurels, and other greenery wound round it spirally,
a large bunch of flowers placed at the top, and then,
in dead silence, solemnly raised to position. Di-
rectly this is accomplished, the spectators raise a great
shout and repeat it three times: “The Pole is up."
5: ELECTION OF MAY QUEEN, AND MAY
POLE DANCE
The men disperse in groups and, after some dis-
cussion and altercation, proceed in a body to the
woman of their choice, present her with a wreath of
May blossom, with ribbon streamers and rosettes
for her dress, and escort her to a raised mound of
grass where every one may see her. She is kissed
“under the green” by the men, amid much laughter
and merriment. The woman chosen is a regular
"man's girl," jolly and of a romping kind, quite
different from the conventional May Queen.
A large group is formed round the May pole in


APPENDIX
201
a ring, alternately men and women, and all take
hands. The May pole dance is then performed
“Sellenger's Round” and “Gathering Peascods.”
6: HOBBY HORSE AND PADSTOW MAY SONG
The hobby horse is made in the following way:
A wooden hoop, about 3 feet in diameter, is covered
with black canvas with a hole in the centre, about
the size of a man's head. The canvas is edged with
red and white ribbon round the circumference, and
depends from the edges about 4 feet like a curtain.
The hoop is then placed on a man's shoulders, his
head, hidden in a tall conical mask of many colors,
passing through a hole in the centre of the canvas,
the curtain hiding his body and legs. In the front
of the hoop is a long, slender horse's head, made of
wood, and at the back of the hoop is attached a curly
horse's tail about 18 inches long. The horse is
accompanied by the “Club-man" who is dressed
in black, covered with rosettes and bows of colored
ribbon, and wears a grotesque mask similar to that of
the hobby horse. Throughout the proceedings, he
faces the Horse and dances backward, holding in
his right hand a stout, nobbed club, about 18 to 24
inches in length, colored like the mask.
The hobby horse enters from the left Interlude
Gate, escorted by six or eight couples of men, gaily


APPENDIX
203
his sword. The Hobby horses prance round and aid
the Witch and Fool in clearing a passage. The
dancers move forward, dancing the “Winster Pro-
cessional Dance.” When the procession has reached
a good position in the centre, the tune changes and
without pause the dancers perform the “Winster
Morris Reel," "The Old Woman Tossed up in a
Blanket.”
For the dresses of the dancers see photographs in
The Morris Book [parts II and III). The Witch is a
man dressed in bedraggled woman's clothes, with
face blackened, and carries a short besom. The
Fool has a pork-pie hat covered with flowers and
feathers, tunic, to the hips, of bright multi-colored
stuff edged with silver fringe, buckskin breeches,
stockings of odd colors, and bells round the ankles.
He carries a stick with a fox's tail at one end and a
bladder at the other. Sometimes he has a dinner-
bell attached to the middle of his back. The King
and Queen are serious characters, the latter being
represented by a man dressed in woman's clothes.
The King carries a sword and should be dressed in the
military dress of the period: the Queen is grandly
dressed, with a touch of comic extravagance, in the
garb of a court lady of the period. The Hobby
horses—say half a dozen in number—are of the
“tournament” variety, and carry sticks and bladders.


· APPENDIX
207
will be selected. The lists, as here given, are merely
preliminary, and have been sketched in, during the
printing of this Appendix, so as not to be wholly
omitted from the publication of this edition. As far
as they concern the New York production of the
Masque, they are not to be construed as anything more
than suggestive material for the necessarily impression-
istic pageant-groups of the Epilogue.
THEATRES
ANCIENT GREECE
Theatre of Dionysus at Athens, Epidaurus,
Ephesus, Sicyon.
ANCIENT ROME
Theatre of Pompey, Scarrus, Balbus Cornelius,
Marcellus.
Provincial Theatres
Antioch, Lyons, Herculaneum, Orange.
CONSTANTINOPLE
Hippodrome, of Emperor Septimius Severus.
ITALY
Florence . . . . . . della Pergola
Venice . . . . . . Fenice


A P PENDIX
209
Philadelphia
Arch Street, Walnut Street, Chestnut Street.
Chicago
McVicker's.
San Francisco
California.
Washington
Ford's.
New Orleans
St. Charles.
ENGLAND
Globe, Bankside, Bear Garden, Hope, Swan,
Drury Lane, Haymarket, Covent Garden.
Dublin
Smock Alley.
ACTORS
GREECE
Thespis, Polus (of Aegina], Aristodemus, Neop-
tolemus, Thessalus, Athenodorus, Cleander, Myn-
niscus (of Chalcis), Callipides, Timotheus.
ROME
Esopus, Roscius, C. Publilius, Ambivius Turpio,
Haitilius Praenestinus, Bathyllus, Pylades, Publilius
Syrus.


210
APPENDIX
ITALY
[Actors] Domenico Biancolelli, Luigi Riccoboni,
Nicola Barbieri, Francesco Andreini, Fiorelli, Tom-
masino, Salvini, Madena, Rossi.
(Actresses) Sedowsky, Isabella Andreini, Ristori.
SPAIN
[Actors] Lope de Rueda, Navarro of Toledo,
Alonso de Olmedo, Sebastian de Prado, Isidoro
Maiquez, José Valero, Julián Romea, Rafael Calvo,
Antonio Vico.
(Actresses) La Baltasara, La Calderona, La Pach-
eca, La Tirana, Rita Luna, Matilde Diez.
FRANCE
[Actors] Jodelet, Harduin, Rodogune, Talma, Got,
LeKain, Molé, Fréville, Baron, Montfleury, Lemaitre,
Coquelin, Mounet Sulley.
(Actresses] Dangville, Rachel, George, Mars, Des
Oeillets, Bejart, Champmeslé, Lecouvreur, Dumes-
nil, Clairon, David.
HOLLAND
(Actors Louis Bouwmeister, Willem Haverkorn,
Johannes Haverkamp, Andries Snoek.
(Actresses] Mme. Wattier.


214
APPENDIX
ITALY
[Tragedy) Ariosto, Manzoni, Alfieri, Nicolini,
Tasso.
[Comedy] Metastasio, Martelli, Maffei, Gozzi,
Pindemonti, Monti, Flavio, Goldoni.
SPAIN AND PORTUGAL
[Spain) Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Calderon, Alar-
con, Gongora, Argensola, Moreto, de Hoz, Cani-
zarez, Luzan, Huerta.
[Portugal] Saa de Miranda, Gil Vincente, Ferreira,
Garcao.
FRANCE
Etienne Jodelle, Garnier, Larivey, Montcrétien,
Hardi, Viaud, Scudéri, Corneille, Boisrobert, Chev-
reau, Scarron, de Bergerac, Quinault, Molière,
Boursault, Racine, Voltaire, l'Hermite, Rotrou,
Crébillon, Le Sage, Beaumarchais, Longpierre, Fon-
tenelli, La Motte, Legrand, Destouches, Marivaux,
Sardou, Hugo, Dumas, Scribe, Zola, Legouvé, Augier,
Halévy, Le Maitre, De Vigny.
HOLLAND
Hooft, Brederoo, Vondel, Vos, Goes, Pels, Asselijn,
van Focquenbroch, Bilderdijk.


APPENDIX
215
GERMANY
Hans Sachs, Gryphius, Gottshed, Klopstock,
Wieland, Herder, Kozebue, Hafner, Goethe, Schiller,
Lessing, Novalis, Arnim, Hoffmann, Hrotsvitha of
Gandersheim, Kleist, Grillparzer, Schlegel, Freytag,
Heyse, Gutzkow, Wagner, Werner, Körner, Klinge-
mann, Uhland, Chamisso, Arndt, Heine, Grabbe,
Immermann, Weise, Grinunelohausen, Klinger, Lud-
wig, Laube, Holm, Giebel, Wildenbruch, Angen-
gruber, Nestroy, Raimund.
SCANDINAVIA
Holberg, Oehlenschläger, J. L. Heiberg, Bjorn-
son, Wessel, Ewald, Hauch, Hostrup, Hertz, Palu-
dan-Müller, Overskou, Ibsen, Lidner, Tegner, Rune-
berg, Blanche, Strindberg, Kielland, Lie.
RUSSIA
Sumarokoff, Catherine II, Von Viezin, Krilov,
Astrovski, Pushkin, Gogol, Tolstoi, Tchekhof, Grib-
oyedov.
AMERICA
Royal Tyler, John Howard Payne, Boker, Long-
fellow, Wm. Young, N. P. Willis, Dion Boucicault,
John Brougham, Augustin Daly, Steele MacKaye,


APPENDIX
219
available in two editions: Paper at 50 cents and
Cloth at $1.25 or thereabouts.
The Drama League hopes to establish in the near
future a Pageant Series, similar to the Play Series, of
which “Caliban” by Mr. MacKaye would be the
first volume.
REMEMBER THESE POINTS
“CALIBAN: BY THE YELLOW SANDS”
By Percy MacKaye. A National tribute to
Shakespeare for 1916. Endorsed by the Drama
League of America.
FIRST PERFORMANCE
New York, May 23d, by citizens and notable
group of professional actors.
RELEASED FOR GENERAL USE
June ist. Acting rights may be secured as indi-
cated below:-
PERFORMANCES BY COMMUNITIES OR
CLUBS WITH PROFESSIONAL COMPANY
Full particulars may be had by addressing Miss
Alice M. Houston, Chairman Circuit Committee,
Drama League of America, 1426 Forest Ave.,
Evanston, Ill.


THE SHAKESPEARE CELEBRATION
will present
in the Lewisohn Stadium of the College of the City of New York
on the nights of May 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 1916, at Eight O'clock
The Community Masque
CALIBAN
By the Yellow Sands
PRODUCTION STAFF
Author and Director
PERCY MACKAYE
Composer and Director of Music
ARTHUR FARWELL
Producers
JOSEPH URBAN
RICHARD ORDYNSKI
Designer of Inner Scenes
ROBERT EDMOND JONES
Director of Interludes
GARNET HOLME
Director of Costumes
Mrs. JOHN W. ALEXANDER
Director of Dances
MRS. ROBERT ANDERSON
Staff Assistant
HAZEL MACKAYE
Office of the Director: 529 Marbridge Bldg. (34th St. & 6th Ave.);
telephone, Greeley 1137.
For particulars regarding Tickets, etc., communication should be made
with the office of the Shakespeare Celebration, 10 East 43d St., New York.
Telephones, Murray Hill 9745 and 4158.
222,



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