. PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES By ALFRED KREYMBORG Author of " Mushrooms" THE OTHER PRESS Seventeen East Fourteenth Street NEW YORK 1918 COPYRIGHT, 1918 By ALFRED KREYMBORG Dramatic Rights reserved by the author For permission to perform any of these plays, address the author, care of THE OTHER PRESS. Infringe ment of copyrights will be prosecuted For permission to reprint "When The Willow Nods," "Jack s House," and "Lima Beans," the author wishes to thank, respec tively, "Poetry, a Magazine of Verse," "Others, a Magazine of the New Verse," and the publishers of "The Provincetown Plays." n To MY LASS AND LAD: LOUISE NASHER AND HERMANN KREYMBORG 396678 Plays for Poem-Mimes might be defined as panto mime acting or dancing of folk or automatons to an accompaniment of rhythmic lines, in place of music. In view of the fact that in all these experiments the characters speak (with the exception of the children in When The Willow Nods, the wife in Jack s House, and the shadows in Blue and Green), little more than a semi-dance of gesture can be added by them to their delivery of the lines, but free dancing might be in dulged during the interludes of silence. It is impera tive that the reading tempo and the introduction of pantomiming shall adhere to the sense connotation rather than the rhythm of the lines. I have to make this small excursion into the realm of professorial instruction because the good people who have been kind as well as the good people who have been un kind to what is commonly and erroneously termed, free verse, have slipped into the error of scanning rather than of feeling the line divisions I offered in Mush rooms. If homogeneity of some sort exists in the present experiments, possibly it runs through the gen eral undercurrent which carries words, silences and pantomiming along, the musician s term for which is organ-point I duly urge my apology for these ejacu lations especially as that benign entity, contradiction between an author s preface and production, is cer tain to come between us. A. K. CONTENTS WHEN THE WILLOW NODS . . . .11 (A Dance-Play) JACK S HOUSE 29 (A Cubic-Play) LIMA BEANS 43 (A Scherzo-Play) BLUE AND GREEN 61 (A Shadow-Play) MANIKIN AND MINIKIN 87 (A Bisque-Play) PEOPLE WHO DIE 105 (A Dream-Play) WHEN THE WILLOW NODS (A Dance-Play) WHEN THE WILLOW NODS A DANCE-PLAY (A dense wood of indiscriminate trees builds a care less wall around a willow leaning over a suggestion of pond. Sun splotches belie the illusion that the time of day is dusk. An old figure, seated on a low stone ledge. His attire might rouse the inference that he believes simplicity to be the denouement of all com plexities. He speaks with a detached air in a rubato tempo, like one who improvises, and occasionally caresses a small hidden instrument or drum with ex quisite, haphazard rhythms. Varying intervals of silence break his speech. A girl and a boy; and later, a second boy. With them simplicity is doubtless the beginning of all things. The girl and boys do not speak, but act the improvisation of the figure in a dance or pantomime which discloses a series of un conscious poses, naive, awkward, uncertain, shy. They appear to be the physical embodiment of the thought-play of the figure. He is unseen by them, but it is evident that they can hear him, most of the time, separately. It is questionable whether the figure can see them. At the rise of the curtain, the figure is alone, and begins:) 11 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES Only when the willow nods does the water nod ; only when the wind nods does the willow nod; only when a cloud nods does the wind nod; and, of course, nod rhymes with God. . . . (The girl wanders in; looks up at the willow; ap proaches the water; kneels.) Better that you look lovely than that you are lovely yes, oh yes, touch your blouse, touch your hair, when he comes, touch your cheeks with the pink that flies; but his glance will do more for your look than these. . . . (Indefinite poses of self -contemplation. The first boy wanders in, left, carrying a small basket.) Your least, sly look recreates folk to your image. 12 WHEN THE WILLOW NODS Not that they know what your image is, nor that they care but won t you look at him? He d like to look like you then you ll love him? . . . (Rapture holds the boy; he sets the basket on the ground. The girl stiffens into another pose.) She has made cups of her hands. She holds them, palms waiting, under her breasts. If you look still higher you may see three more cups her mouth, her eyes. And there is a cup you cannot see. Brave lad, can you resist so many? . . . (The boy s ecstasy crumbles to excitement, as the girl looks at him vaguely.) What can you what should you what shall you say so so only so only she ll what can you 13 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES what should you what shall you swear? Could I let you give her the earth, or a tree lend you something more than you, more than me how can you how should you how else could you make her urge her to have her say, whisper, breathe breathe she- breathe that she what can you what should you what shall you do? You might jump jump off and never come back! And she she only she only say 14 WHEN THE WILLOW NODS no! . . . (The girl looks at the boy clearly. She moves from the water. He follows. She stops beyond the willow. He hesitates.) Do you feel him a thing of silk now you can hear him? Must you be always tearing his flesh with your eyes, and your silence? Put a quick finger on one of his pores touch it at least or he will fall, bloodless, at your feet and leave you nobody. You wouldn t enjoy turning ghoul? Faun girl, you are beautiful be kind to yourself. . . . (The girl starts towards the boy; permits him grad ually and gently to caress her.) Place your cool mouth to his. Press hard and long. There will come opening .* 15 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES and things which have never sung before. Things even you will never understand. Nor he. Turn your large eyes to his. Enter. You will see what you heard and the mystery grow. At the last, bring your curious touch to his. Hands move to the breeze. . . . (Frightened, the girl draws away; she suddenly dis appears. Awed, the boy cannot follow her.} She loves you? And who are you who are you that she should? Don t ask me that ask tiny questions. She of the yellow hair, she of the cool green eyes, she of the queer red mouth I know whom you mean. Come, lad. Tell me more about her. Don t be afraid. She loves you? 16 WHEN THE WILLOW NODS So you said . . . Let s sit on the grass. It gives so pleasantly. Now we can talk. She loves you? But let s talk, talk about her! You can t? Neither can I ... Away, away from this place there s a pond past these trees let s steal to a boat, a long eerie boat, and drift to the water lilies pink, blue or white, lilies are quiet thoughts. We won t break them for her. We don t have to ... Eh? She loves you? Poor boy, are you so happy you re sad? That s right, shut your eyes. Wake you when we reach the lilies? I ll try, I ll try. . . . (The boy is gone.) She loves you. 17 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES I can assure you now you re asleep. Dream, boy, lilies will wake you, pink, blue or white. No matter the color, no harm can come. She loves you. . . . (Interlude. The figure, reflectively:) Trees, too, are innocent entities. Sap sings through them in time with the weather. One can see they care little about their fellows, though they do have a way of waving branches to each other. For themselves, they have a way of nodding pleasantly. Also of trying on dresses near a rain glass or a snow glass. Also of staying where they happen to be. . . There are folk who doubt whether they care at all. It would be mean though to censure trees they re trees. . . . (The lovers come running upon the scene, he chas ing her. He throws his basket aside; buttercups fall out.) 18 WHEN THE WILLOW NODS What animals you are or whether you are animals, I am too dumb to tell. Some moments, I feel you ve come out of the earth, out of some cool white stone deep down in the earth; or there brushes past and lurks in a corner the thought that you slipped from a tree when the earth stopped spinning, that a blue shell brought you when the sea tired waltzing. You might be two mice, the dryads of woodpeckers, or a pure tiny fish dream ; you might be something dropped from the sky ; not god-children I wouldn t have you that nor clouds though I love clouds. You re something not birds, I can tell. If I could find you somewhere outside of me, I might tell but inside? . . . 19 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES (The boy catches the girl; she no longer resists; he kisses her.) Said the Mother: She is lovely. Her mouth is red. Give her a kiss. She wants it. ... And when you are through? Give her another! But you don t understand? Why should you? (Exhausted, the girl drazvs away.- The boy reluc tantly builds her a throne of fallen leaves. She sits down; he hands her the buttercups, a few at a time, and some colored scarfs.) Do not make her so happy that when the time comes to make her unhappy she will be so unhappy she will die, lad. Can t you be cross with her? Can t you fail to bring her those buttercups ? Can t you twang somewhere else now and then? She ll love you the more? 20 WHEN THE WILLOW NODS Then hers is the crime if she dies ! It isn t? Whose is it? Better make her unhappy at once ! You can t? Well I don t know what you should do. . . . (The girl, possibly sated with attention, stretches out on the leaves. The boy watches her; comes closer; seems doubtful; and stops. Then he sits down near her. Something holds him still; something else draws him still closer.) She wears no scarf over her hair, no mask over her eyes, over her mouth. Nor do you ask her to: thus, you love her. Nor do you see veils round her breasts, veils down her limbs. Ask you to? I speak to a stone. You love her, thus. . . . (The girl is startled. The boy touches her. She looks at him, rouses herself, gets up. He turns aside. She moves away. He does not follow her.) If he were sober 21 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES he would love you as you wish to be loved and as he would love you if his muddled thought of you were clear of desire. It is sad that one so young should be drunken so soon, but had you not answered him, had you not answered him . . . I know, I know it wasn t your fault. . . . (Slowly, the lovers depart in opposite directions.) May the sun blink open your eyes and find the room within all blue, and that tiny broken relic of the night s unhappiness vanish like a moth. You will see, no bird can fly more swiftly away. . . . (Interlude. The figure, reflectively:) . . . again, under the spell of these warm-scented troubadour winds brushing winter s convent 22 WHEN THE WILLOW NODS with insinuating madrigals, those novices, the trees, clicking their crooked black needles, are knitting lace is it yellow, is it green? timid in pattern, as clouds are, what with their dropping of stitches. . . . later, grown almost heretic through warmth of their own, or under the foolish persuasion that beauty can add to beauty and hold beauty one or two will work in patches of flowers. . . . once again, the troubadours some sated, some broken-hearted will slip away and the convent be as before. . . . maybe the Mother Superior frowns them off? . . . (The boy enters dejectedly. His movements are indeterminate, but he stops near the willow.) You are so straight and still. What does it mean? Are you concerned 23 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES in the tops of you now with sky matters and winter butterflies? Do not the leaves you colored trouble you longer? Try and recall ! Try and recall: Over this path she used to tread her way, over there he used to throne them for her: green, brown, red, yellow! Did you look at me? Did you say something? . . . (The boy departs. . . . The girl enters dejectedly. She sits down near the scattered remains of the throne.} Girl: Is the sap in you tired that you no longer resist the wind? Did you feel the rain, the rain that was here in the night? You aren t old what then ? Another rain may be lighter? Even if it isn t no? . . . (After a silence, the figure:) She loved her love for him. But ask her how it died, 24 WHEN THE WILLOW NODS she will cry, his faults came and stabbed it. Over the tomb she has scrolled, My love for him is dead, but my love lives on/ And her love carries white flowers to what was her love for him. . . . (The second boy enters. He looks at the girl. But as the figure continues, the boy passes aimlessly through.) Beware, lad. There s a lane of cherry trees on the turn from his grave. Don t look at her, or you ll be plucking blossoms in blossom time, blossoms being pink, or cherries in cherry time, cherries being red, and seeing they re a pretty variation from the white, her love will carry them to what was her love for him. . . . (The girl has not seen the second boy. She leaves the wood. After a silence, the figure:) Only when the willow nods does the water nod; only when the wind nods does the willow nod; 25 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES only when a cloud nods does the wind nod; and, of course, nod rhymes with God. . . . (Slow curtain.) 26 JACK S HOUSE (A Cubic-Play) JACK S HOUSE A CUBIC-PLAY / (Before the rise of the curtain, a fantastic cartoon in a design of squares, triangles, rhomboids, etc., Jack is singing lustily:) I-re-mi-fa-sol-fa-mi- love-her-mi- f a-sol-la-sol- f a- and-she-sol-la-ci-do-ci-la- loves-ci-do-ci-la-sol-fa-mi- loves-me-re-mi-re-do- And-we-re-mi-fa-sol-fa-mi- love-us-re-mi-fa-mi-we-do. (After a short silence, the curtain rises disclosing one small room. It contains one table, one chair, one couch, one cooking stove, on which one kettle is boil ing all of them small, except the chair. It has one bare window, one door both small. Also one broom which is large. Jack is sitting behind the table. Large square-rimmed spectacles rest on the tip of his nose as he studies a page of a ponderous volume across which may be read the words, HOUSEHOLD ACCOUNTS. Throughout the play, Jack s Wife does not speak; the character of her dialogue is suggested by her pantomime. Jack addresses practically the 29 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES whole of his speech to the audience. His gesticula tion is geometrical. As the play progresses, his Wife begins unconsciously to imitate him.) Two and two are four, four and six are ten, ten and two are twelve, twelve and nine are twenty-one twenty-one Wife is only twenty twenty-one twenty-one and seven oh how I hope twenty-one and seven twenty-nine oh how I hope carry two I hope she ll do the housework soon. Two and three are five, five and four are nine mending cushions nine and one curtains I wonder will she nine and one meals I wonder will and one is ten and two is twelve and nine house without housework is no house at all twenty-one again carry two. Two and four is (Jack is interrupted by the sound of a step. He 30 JACK S HOUSE shuts the book, quickly puts it away in the drawer of the table, hurries to the kettle and begins to stir its contents with a large wooden spoon. Jack s Wife enters. Adorable might describe her. Dainty panto mime of greetings. Jack is most solicitous in aiding her with the removal of her hat. Presently, he leads her to two unfinished cushions which lie on the couch, and indicates that she should busy herself with them. She stubbornly shakes her head. He indicates some yellow curtains likewise on the couch. She is still more stubborn. He indicates the wooden spoon, and stirs the contents of the kettle with truly magic per suasiveness. She turns her back on him. He leads her gently to the table, opens the drawer and indulges a pantomime of setting the table. She refuses the invitation. Jack seems in despair, but a sign of extra ordinary good cheer not unmixed with whimsic shrewdness, breaks his mood. He takes his Wife s hands, and intones:) Love, Hebe, amore, amour was a dear little word for to win a lady, love, Hebe, amore, amour was a dear little word for to win a lord. Now take her hand, and you take his, and move about in a quaint little rhomboid, or move about in a square or circle a square or circle is pretty, my dears ! 31 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES Shall it be a valse, or shall it be a saraband? Why not try a minuet, gigue or polonaise? Don t you mind false steps, or who plays, accompaniment the dear little tune is ever the same: Love, liebe, amore, amour is a dear little word for to hold a lady, love, liebe, amore, amour is a dear little word for to hold a lord. (Before the close of the dance, it becomes evident that Jack s Wife is more responsive to his suggestions. He leads her back to the table; this time he takes vari ous imaginary articles, carefully, one by one, from the drawer. Reluctantly, only, does she place them as he indicates. It is easy to intimate that if the articles were real, instead of imaginary, she would have de nied her share in the performance.) We have no dishes - to eat our meals from. We have no dishes to eat our meals from because we have no dishes to eat our meals from. We have no dishes to eat our meals from because we can afford no 32 JACK S HOUSE dishes to eat our meals from. When we can afford dishes to eat our meals from we will have dishes to eat our meals from. We need no dishes to eat our meals from, we have fingers to eat our meals from. (Jack challenges the audience with a vehement nod. His Wife does the same with a nod less vehement. He places the chair ceremoniously for her to sit on, and returns to the kettle. Presently he brings the imaginary repast, sets it on the table, and after much lofty manoeuvring of helpings, sits down on the same chair, as his Wife makes room for him with tender alacrity. Imaginary eating follows. Jack, with a deal of scorn:) We have a one-room home. You have a two-room, three-room, four-room. We have a one-room home because a one-room home holds all we have. We have a one-room home because we do not want a two-room, three-room, four-room. If we had a two-room, three-room, four-room we would need more than a one-room home. We have a one-room home. We like a one-room home. 33 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES (Apparently, Jack s Wife acquiesces in this pro nouncement. But as Jack rises and indicates the pres ence of the nexi household problem, she rises and backs away from the table. He illustrates his argu ment by going from table to kettle and back again, carrying the imaginary dishes but without prevailing. He turns his back on her. Slowly, laboriously, he stirs the dishes with a mop. But ever so gently, ever so impersonally and tactfully, he sings to himself:) I-re-mi-fa-sol-fa-mi- love-her-mi- f a-sol-la-sol- f a- and-she-sol-la-ci-do-ci-la ( Unseen by Jack, his Wife has wandered to the win dow. Idly, like a child, and nodding in tempo, she traces shapes with her finger. She stops, eyes Jack, looks down, looks itp, and then moves towards the couch. He recommences, as though unaware of a change:) I-re-mi- fa-sol- fa-mi- love-her-mi-fa-sol-la-sol-fa- and-she-sol-la-ci-do-ci-la (His Wife falters, and then sits down. She begins, most tentatively, to finger one of the cushions.) And-she-sol-la-ci-doci-la ? (They exchange sidelong glances. Jack smiles; so does his Wife. He quickens the tempo of his tune and goes to the drawer:} loves-ci-do-ci-la-sol-fa-mi ? (He sends her a glance. She nods and he pulls open the drawer and gets her work basket:) 34 JACK S HOUSE loves-ci-do-ci-la-sol-fa-mi- loves-me-re-mi-re-do (He hands her the basket with a touch of legerde main : ) loves-me-re-mi-re-do. And-we-re-mi-fa-sol-fa-mi- love-us-re-mi-fa-mi-we-do. (Jack goes back to the kettle. His Wife begins to ivork on the cushions. He has to send her occasional glances of encouragement. Presently, he takes the broom, and, with what looks like obliviousness, sweeps with such vigorous strokes and such delicate finesse that a little pile of dust is gathered and deftly urged into a corner. With much twirling of the broom, and interruptions by way of bowing to the audience, ges ticulating and posturing, he has been offering the fol lowing, at the conclusion of which the broom is put away with an ecstatic sigh.) She has two green pillows on our black couch. They should be cerulean bolsters on a lemon silk divan and you would not challenge me that she has two green pillows on our black couch, and I would not challenge you that yours has cerulean bolsters on your lemon silk divan. 35 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES Have cerulean bolsters on your lemon silk divan and let us have two green pillows on our black couch. (His Wife seems not a little pleased with herself, so much so that when Jack sits down to help her with advice, she nudges him away. He can scarcely con trol his joy. To hide it, he concerns himself with imaginary chores, to a hummed version of his tune. Observing that his Wife has laid aside the cushions, he slily attempts to pick up the curtains, but she snatches them away. He indulges a pantomime of angry, defeated pride, and then resorts to petting the pillows. His Wife does not object. He rocks the pillows in his arms, and attacks the audience with in sinuating tenderness.) We have many, many children I would sing you of, but you would not call them any, any children. And what is it to you how many, many children we have, so why should I sing you of any, any children we have? (Jack lays the pillows down. His Wife begins sew ing on the curtains. Tactfully, he renews his search for imagined chores. She motions him towards the window, and suggests washing it. Jack is so surprised 36 JACK S HOUSE she has to repeat her pointing several times. He nods in approbation, finds the mop and dips it in the kettle. The water is hot, assuredly. However, a glance of his, followed by a slow look, at the window, holds him back. With a gesture akin to reverence, he turns from the window, and comes close to the audience. In strict, prayerful confidence, to which his Wife listens, doubtfully, and then slowly bows her head, and sews.) Our window is stained with the figures she has blown on it. Our window is stained with the figures she has blown on it with her breath. Our window is stained with the figures she has blown on it with her breath on which a spirit has blown A spirit? a saint? a sprite? who was it blew figures on her breath that our window is stained with the figures she has blown on it? (Jack goes back to the window, but he exerts extreme care in his efforts not to wipe out the figures. His Wife has finished the curtains; she steals behind him. Jack stands there in utter contemplation, but as she approaches, comes back to the situation and tries to anticipate her purpose by taking the curtains. She bluntly denies him any part in the hanging. With mock resignation Jack permits himself to be overruled. 37 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES But while his Wife hangs the curtains, he confides his ecstasy to the audience.) She likes to make shades, yellow shades for the window, but if you ask her why she likes to make shades, yellow shades for the window, she would not tell you why she likes to make shades, yellow shades for the window, except that she likes to. If you ask me why she likes to make shades, yellow shades for the window, I could tell you why, but you might think me proud, so I will not tell you why she likes to make shades, yellow shades for the window. (His Wife has finished hanging the curtains. She steals behind and touches him. Jack turns and lifts her gently off the floor, for a mere moment. His happy exhaustion becomes so apparent that his Wife has to lead him to the couch and deposit him there almost like a child. He does not resist. She snuggles down beside him. Together, they look about the room. Jack, to his Wife:) This room is our cradle. It will rock 38 JACK S HOUSE in our memory no matter what we grow to. (As the curtain falls, they can be heard humming the strain of I-re-mifa-sol-fa-mi.) 39 LIMA BEANS (A Scherzo-Play) LIMA BEANS A SCHERZO-PLAY (The characters are four: husband, wife, the voice of a huckster and the curtain! Husband and wife might be two marionnettes. The scene is a miniature dining room large enough to contain a small table, two chairs, a liny sideboard, an open window, a closed door lead ing to the other rooms, and additional elbow space. Pantomime is modestly indulged by husband and wife, suggesting an inoffensive parody, unless the author errs, of the contours of certain ancient Burmese dances. The impedimenta of occasional rhymes are unpremeditated. If there must be a prelude of music, let it be nothing more consequential than one of the in nocuous parlor rondos of Carl Maria Von Weber. As a background color scheme, black and white might not prove amiss. As the curtain, which is painted in festoons of vege tables, rises gravely, the wife is disclosed setting the table for dinner. Aided by the sideboard, she has at tended to her place, as witness the neat arrangement of plate, cup and saucer, and knife, fork and spoons at one side. Now, more consciously, she begins the performance of the important duty opposite. This question of concrete paraphernalia, and the action con sequent thereupon, might of course be left entirely to the imagination of the beholder.) 43 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES The Wife (wistfully whimsical) Put a knife here, place a fork there marriage is greater than love. Give him a large spoon, give him a small you re sure of your man when you dine him. A cup for his coffee, a saucer for spillings, a plate rimmed with roses to hold his night s fillings roses for hearts, ah, but food for the appetite ! Mammals are happiest home after dark ! (The rite over, she stands off in critical admira tion, her arms akimbo, her head bobbing from side to side. Then, seriously, as she eyes the husband s dinner plate.) But what shall I give him to eat to-night? It mustn t be limas, we ve always had limas one more lima would shatter his love ! (An answer comes through the open window from the dulcet insinuatingly persuasive horn of the huck ster.) The Wife O\\, ah, ooh ! The Huckster (singing mysteriously) -I got tomatoes, I got potatoes, I got new cabbage, 44 LIMA BEANS I got caw/iflowcr, I got red beets, I got onions, I got lima beans The Wife (who has stolen to the window, fasci nated) Any fruit? The Huckster I got orange.?, I got pineapples, blackberries, currants, blueberries, I got bananas, I got The Wife Bring me some string beans ! The Huckster Yes, mam ! (His head bobs in at the window.) The Wife (takes some coins from the sideboard. A paper bag is flung into the room. The wife catches it and airily tosses the coins into the street. Presently, she takes a bowl from the sideboard, sits down, peeps into the bag, dramatically tears it open, and relapses into a gentle rocking as she strings the beans to this invocation) String the crooked ones, string the straight love needs a change every meal. To-morrow, come kidney beans, Wednesday, come white or black limas, return not too soon! 45 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES The string bean rules in the vegetable kingdom, gives far more calories, sooner digests "love through with dinner is quicker to play ! Straight ones, crooked ones, string beans are blessed! (Enter the husband briskly. In consternation, the wife tries to hide the bowl, but sets it on the table and hurries to greet him. He spreads his hands and bows.) She Good evening, sweet husband ! He Good evening, sweet wife! She You re back, I m so happy He So am I twas a day She Twas a day? He For a hot sweating donkey She A donkey? He A mule ! She My poor, dear, poor spouse He No, no, my good mouse She Rest your tired, weary arms He They re not tired, I m not weary I d perspire tears and blood drops just to keep my mouse in cheese. In a town or in the fields, on the sea or in a balloon, with a pickaxe or a fiddle, with one s back a crooked wish-bone, occupation, labor, work work s a man s best contribution. She Contribution ? 46 LIMA BEANS He Yes, to Hymen! She Ah yes He But you haven t She I haven t? He You haven t She I haven t? Pie You have not She Ah yes, yes indeed! (The wife embraces the husband and kisses him daintily six times.) He Stop, queer little dear ! Why is a kiss? She I don t know. He You don t? She No ! He Then why do you do it? She Love ! He Love ? She Yes ! He And why is love? She I don t know. He You don t? She No ! He And why don t you know? She Because ! He Because ? She Yes ! He Come, queer little dear ! (The husband embraces the wife and kisses her daintily six times.) 47 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES He (solemnly) And now! She (nervously) And now? He And now ! She And now? He And now I am hungry. She And now you are hungry? He Of course I am hungry. She To be sure you are hungry, but He But? She But ! He But? (The wife tries to edge between the husband and the table. He gently elbows her aside. She comes back; he elbows her less gently. This pantomime is repeated several times; his elbowing is almost rough at the last. The husband reaches the table and ogles the bold. His head twists from the bowl to the wife, back and forth. An ominous silence.) He String beans? She String beans ! He String beans? She String beans! (A still more ominous silence. The husband s head begins fairly to bob, only to stop abruptly as he breaks forth)- He I perspire tears and blood drops in a town or in the fields, on the sea or in a balloon, with my pickaxe or my fiddle, just to come home 48 LIMA BEANS footsore, starving, doubled with appetite to a meal of string beans? Where are my limas? She We had He We had? She Lima beans yesterday we had them He We had them? She Day before yesterday He What of it? She Last Friday, last Thursday He I know it She Last Wednesday, last Tuesday He What then, mam? She We had them all the way since we were married He Two weeks ago this very day She I thought you d have to have a change- He A change She I thought you d like to have a change He A change? You thought? I d like? A change? What! From the godliest of vegetables, my kingly bean, that soft, soothing, succulent, caressing, creamy, persuasively serene, my buttery entity? 49 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES You would dethrone it? You would play renegade? You d raise an usurper in the person of this elongated, cadaverous, throat-scratching, greenish caterpillar you d honor a parochial, menial pleb, an accursed legume, sans even the petty grandeur of cauliflower, radish, pea, onion, asparagus, potato, tomato to the rank of household god? Is this your marriage? Is this your creed of love? Is this your contribution? Dear, dear, was there some witch at the altar who linked your hand with mine in troth only to have it broken in a bowl ? Ah, dear, dear She Dear, dear! He You have listened to a temptress She I have listened to my love of you He You, the pure, the angelic She Husband, dear He Silence ! 50 LIMA BEANS She Husband ! He Silence ! (The wife collapses into her chair. The husband seizes the bowl to this malediction) Worms, snakes, reptiles, caterpillars, I do not know from whence ye came, but I know whither ye shall go. My love, my troth, my faith shall deal with ye. Avaunt, vanish, begone from this domicile, dedicated, consecrated, immortalized in the name of Hymen ! Begone ! (The husband throws the bowl and beans out of the window. The customary crash of broken glass, off-stage, is heard. A smothered sob escapes the wife. The husband strides towards the door. The wife raises her head.) She Husband ! He Traitress! 51 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES She Love, sweet husband! He Traitress, traitress ! ( The husband glares at the wife, and slams the door behind him. The wife collapses again. Her body rocks to and fro. Silence. Then, still more myste riously than the first time, the horn and the voice of the huckster. The wife stops rocking, raises her head and gets up. A woe-begone expression vanishes be fore one of eagerness, of housewifely shrewdness, of joy. She steals to the window.) The Huckster I got oranges, I got pineapples, I got blackberries, I got cwrrants, I got blueberries, I got ba.na.nas, Igot The Wife Any vegetables? The Huckster I got tomato^, I got potatoes, new cabbage, cauliflower, red beets, I got string beans, Igot The Wife Bring me some lima beans ! The Huckster I got onions, I got The Wife Bring me some lima beans ! 52 LIMA BEANS The Huckster Yes, mam ! (His head appears again. ) (The performance of paper bag and coins is re peated. Excitedly, the wife takes another bowl from the sideboard. She sits down, tears open the bag, clicks her heels, and hastily, recklessly, begins split ting the limas. One or two pop out and bound along the floor. The wife stops. Pensively:} There you go, hopping away, just like bad sparrows no, no, more like him. (She smiles a little.) Hopping away, no, he s not a sparrow, he s more like a poor angry boy and so soon! (She lets the beans slip through her fingers.) Lima beans, string beans, kidney beans, white or black you re all alike though not all alike to him. (She perks her head.) It s alike to me what s alike to him (She looks out of the window.) though I m sorry for you, crooked strings, straight strings, and so glad for you, creamy ones, succulent 53 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES what did he say of you? (She returns to splitting the limas; with crescendo animation.) Heighho, it s all one to me, so he loves what I do, I ll do what he loves. Angry boy? No, a man quite young in the practise of wedlock and love! Come, limas, to work now we ll serve him, heart, appetite, whims, crosspatches and all though we boil for it later! The dinner bell calls us, ding, dong, ding, dell! (The husband opens the door and pokes in his head. The wife hears him and is silent. He edges into the room and then stops, humble, contrite, abject. Almost in a whisper) Wife! (She does not heed him. He, louder) Sweet wife! (She does not answer. He, still louder) Beloved, dear, dearest wife! (She does not answer. He approaches carefully, almost with reverence, watches her, takes the other chair and cautiously sets it down next to hers.) HeWife! She Yes? 54 LIMA BEANS He Will you I want to won t you may I sit next to you? SheYes. He I want to will you won t you forgive me I ll eat all the beans in the world! (The wife looks up at the husband roguishly. He drops down beside her with the evident intention of putting his arm about her, only to jump up as, inad vertently, he has looked into the bowl. He rubs his eyes, sits down slowly, looks again, only to jump up again. The third time he sits down with extreme caution, like a zoologist who has come upon a new specimen of insect. The wife seems oblivious of his emotion. He rises, looks from one side of her, then the other, warily. At last, rapturously.) He Lima beans? (She looks up tenderly and invitingly, indicating his chair.) She Lima beans! (He sits down beside her. With greater awe and emphasis.) He Lima beans? She Lima beans ! (A moment of elfin silence.) He Sweet wife! 55 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES She- Sweet husband ! lie- -Where whence how did it how did it happen? SJic I don t know. // You do you do know She- -I don t! He Tiny miracle, you do you re a woman, ou re a wife, you re an imp you do know ! SheWdl He Well ? She Er He Eh? She Somebody He Yes, yes? SJi c Somebody sent them He Sent them? She Brought them ! He Brought them ? She Yes ! 7/<?--Who? She Somebody ! He Somebody who? 56 LIMA BEANS She I can t tell He You can. She I won t tell He You will She I won t He You will SheWt\} ! He Well ? She You ought to know ! He I ought to? She You ought to He But I don t She Yes, you do! He I do not She You do! (The husband eyes the wife thoughtfully. She aids him with a gently mischievous smile. He smiles back in understanding.) He I know ! She- You do not He Yes, I do! She Are you sure? He Sure enough She Who was it? He I won t tell She You will! (He points at the audience with warning, goes to the keyhole and listens, draws the window-shade and returns. She nods quickly and puts her head closer to his, her ivide-open eyes on the audience. He puts 57 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES his head to hers, his wide-open eyes on the audience, then turns quickly and whispers something in her ear. She nods with secret, uproarious delight.) She Yes ! He Yes? SheYes\ (They embrace and click their heels with unre- straind enthusiasm. The wife holds out the bowl to the husband with mock solemnity. He grasps it and together they raise it above their heads, lower it to their knees, and then shell the beans with one accord. They kiss each other daintily six times. The curtain begins to quiver. As before, but accelerando.) He Stop, queer little dear! Why is a kiss? She I don t know. He You don t? She No ! He Then why do you do it? She Love ! He Love ? She Yes ! He And why is (They are interrupted. The curtain comes capering down! The last we behold of the happy pair is their frantic signaling for the curtain to wait till they have finished. But curtains cannot see or understand?) 58 BLUE AND GREEN (A Shadow-Play) BLUE AND GREEN A SHADOW-PLAY (Three different miniature scenes which, for con venience, might be understood as Scene I, Scene II, Scene III. In Scene I, the predominant note is a small group of live oaks; in Scene II, cedars, one of which is taller than the rest, in an environment of yellow desert and sage brush; Scene III, a single, tall euca lyptus in red-blossom time. A hint of blue sea is the background; the locality, California. The action takes place with the three scenes constantly in view. They are separated from one another by mist-like curtains or partitions. ) (A young man is hurriedly looking about among the live oaks. Their low gnarled stature and twisted arms throw weird shadows about him. He stops and speaks breathlessly) She blew two kisses down an air current and I at the other end it felt like the roar, darkness and mad rocks of an iniquitous cave ! But this is no cave? Two kisses? 61 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES Why, there were eight of them, each the more insidious for the silence of them, eight thistle-down ubiquities avalanched by the eight fingers of her two hands there would have been ten had she thought of her thumbs ! Woman never expresses herself unless man has brought the occasion, and then only, only when a period has elapsed sufficient to provide her with some indubitable credential of the character of his intention ! Immortal controversy why, the character of mine has been chasing her for days, clutching at her like a tree, shouting imprecation! But at that egregious moment I said nothing, asked nothing, did nothing, when quicker than a breeze or a rain drop two kisses, eight kisses, ten? Can it be she loves me at last? There you are! (A young woman has appeared under one of the oaks. She eyes him; he eyes her. They parley.) He You blew two kisses 62 BLUE AND GREEN She I did not He Eight kisses She I did not He There would have been ten She There would not He You love me She I do not! He At any rate She At any rate? He Come and sit down. She I ve sat down before. He Let us weigh the question. She We ve weighed it before. He Let us premise a new discussion She Old discussion He With the assumption you don t love me. She The assumption? He The admission! (She approaches warily. He arranges a place on the ground for her. He sits down a fair distance away.) He Higgle- She Haggle He Haggle She Higgle He I know my craziness about you is compounded of some fifty percent craziness about me, but if you 63 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES will chip from your hundred percent (if it s that) craziness about you five or ten percent for a craziness about me, I feel mayhap we d compound a single craziness so marvelously sane the very fish wives would covet it ! Let the males of the market flout it, barter of a bag of stale flounders for a luscious fresh vegetable, or shriek : he s passed a counterfeit ! I ll even take in exchange a Chinese coin ninety-nine percent hole and leave it at our demise to dance along the silver-wire memory of immortal bits ! She And your counterfeit? He My your-me? I m sorry I can t weigh that will you ? She (mischievously) Higgle He (in disgust) Haggle 64 BLUE AND GREEN She Haggle He Damn ! (He has moved closer to her, but turns away. She touches him. He looks at her. They embrace tender ly. Pause. They release each other. He looks down.) She You love me? He Verily. You love me ? She Indeed ! He How you starved me She I did not I blew you two kisses ? He Eight kisses ! She Ten thousand ! He With your thumbs? She With my thought! He Blessed fish-wife ! She Not fish-wife! He I mean tree-troll ! She Nor tree-troll! He Woman ! (The scenes darken gradually. She nestles against his shoulder. Suddenly, she indicates the live oaks. He follows her gesture doubtfully.) She I m afraid. He Afraid? Afraid of the trees? She Not of the trees ! He Afraid of me? She Nor of you! 65 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES HeOi what? SheOi love! He Of love? She Not of love! He Not of love? She Of everything He Everything ? She Everything which isn t love! He I don t understand? She (dreamily) I once saw two bubbles on a pond. They eyed the sun a little while, so contentedly, then blinked one blink and were as nothing. They died, didn t they? He Doubtless they did She Then I saw two gnats. They sped back and forth across the pond, so contentedly, and then disappeared, one behind a rock, the other down below, and were as nothing. They parted, didn t they? He Doubtless they did She I sat there with the past, present and futu: I thought of nothing. But there was something in me, a faint, wavering desire for something beyond me and that past, present and future 66 BLUE AND GREEN He Here I am! She I know, but He But? She Will we be like the bubbles ? He No ! She Will we be like the gnats? He No, no ! She If we are the bubbles, at least we would die but if we are the gnats! He But we re going to live! She Live, yes, but He But again? She There s a living which is dying. He The everything which isn t love ? She Yes ! He The everything in us which isn t? She Yes, yes ! He But is there such a thing in us? She My love ! He Your love? She And your love ! He My love? She I love the me in you and you the you in me ! He Is that what love is? She Can t it be something beyond more than the me more than the me we crave tell me what love is ! 67 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES (He draws her still closer and shakes his head. A gentle silence.) She (almost in a sing song) If you ll tell me what love is, how little of it is love, how much of it everything else, how little of it feeling for you, how much of it cat-like selfishness, how much of it lust of power, luring the other into your hands to re-model after your own image, only to find the image mean, commonplace, bitterly familiar, a sight to efface with the first recognition He (in imitation) How much of it is re-modelling yourself to the other image, what one supposes the other to be, or rather what it should be, must be, and one destroys not only the image, but the reality as well if there is a reality in her for me, if she is, not seems, and I don t learn, as of old, one asks her to be what one wants her to be is so much of oneself so unfriendly? She If you ll tell me the direction of it, your saying, I love you, my saying, I love you, and the first apprehension of caresses 68 BLUE AND GREEN He Desire and satiety She Desire and satiety He How much of it will repeat past adventuring, with the inevitable disclosure, one is what one is She And chance is what it is He The moon, sun, sea, hill, earth, tree or flower playing circumstance to what-he-is, what-she-is and what-they-are-together all over the world ! She Dear so dear you are to me let us go on sitting so, you there, I here, under these dark, weird, clamorous trees, until the first interruption, until we find out He Though I can tell and you can tell, we ll never find out till we try? She And should we try? He Should we try She Most likely because it s ever the fashion, I ll know even less, and you ll know even less He And I ll wonder why we tried, and you ll wonder why we tried 57i And I ll be more stupid, and you ll be more stupid He And a little sadder 69 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES She And a little sadder He And a little lonesomer She And a little lonesomer He And I ll sit down with some other She And I ll sit down with some other He Just like this, just like that She And we ll begin again if not from the beginning He And I ll recall you as I watch her, and you, me as you watch him She And I ll marvel and you ll marvel that one s feeling He Is it the same, though not the same? She And so on and around and back again. He That s a beautiful sky through there California skies are bluest of all, and California deserts and California seas and California clouds She And that will be a beautiful sky Maine skies are greenest of all, and Maine woods and Maine lakes and the grass of Maine He Or will it be Oregon where will it be ? She Dearest, if you ll tell me what love is, if you ll tell me it s ever so little, a little outside the circle, 70 BLUE AND GREEN I ll butterfly chance with you beyond these terrible trees and over the calm of the Pacific to white-shawled China He Are the waves out there white-shawled ? Which is the mirage wave or shawl do you care? She Or sit just so He You there, I here 57^ Until He Until some tower bell, duty call finds us asleep ! She Or the sun blink us dead ! ****** ( The scenes are touched with the light of the moon. A few weeks later. The young man is walking about among the cedars. He stops near a gravestone of which there are several; they are small and old.) Graveyards ? I suppose they are fun. This fellow down here who whom did he love and she? Did she did she have cruel eyes? 71 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES Did she oh those trees ! Why do they hunch their backs and sigh? Did she and that wind ! What makes him cramp his chest and groan ? And that sea, and the moon, those infernal clouds Didn t she didn t she love him at all ? And these white-eyed, white-eyed stones ! Graveyards ? I suppose they are when she loves you fun. Ah to be able to die ! ( The young woman appears. The young man tries to retreat, but she sees him.) He You here? She And you ? He Then you must love me a little ? Come and sit down ! She I fn afraid. He Afraid of the stones? She Of the graves. He Here s a stone which isn t a grave? (She joins him. They sit down.) He How you have suffered ! She And you! He Am I not dear to you? She Yes, and I ? 72 BLUE AND GREEN He You are so dear to me ! Dear! 67^ Yes? He Isn t it best now to give suffering its way with us, like a sea with a stone, and let the spray which was our joy the spray dancing on us while bounding and tumbling and rolling here give us content? Suffering carves smoothness which cannot cut any longer, should we roll again ? She We will never roll again. HeWe will ! She Not with each other. He With somebody else? She Nor somebody else. He Not in Maine? She Nor in Oregon. He We aren t bubbles ? She We are. He We are alive! She Not for each other. He We are here! SheYes. He What brought us here ? She Death. He What estranged us? 73 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES She I don t know. He Why did you slip behind a rock? She I don t know. He Did I do something? She No. He Did you? Did we? She No. He What estranged us? She What we didn t do love! He We did love. She We loved HeWe did love? She Ourselves. He What brought you here? She A burial. He What burial? She I have come from pride all the way up to humility this day-to-night. The hill was more terrible than ever before. This is the top; there is the tall, slim tree. It isn t bent ; it doesn t lean ; it is only looking back. At dawn, 74 BLUE AND GREEN under that tree, still another me of mine was buried. Waiting for me to come again, humorously solicitous of what I bring next it looks down. He Of what you bring next? Then you ll live again? You are alive? She Everything which isn t love. He Then you did love She I did not, nor you. He I did! She You loved yourself. He And what lies buried there? She My self-love. He But I loved you, I loved you, I loved She You. (He draws closer to her; timidly puts his arm about her. She does not resist. Two shadows take entity among the live oaks. They dance a dirge.) He Let memory have its way for a while ! Think of the life we had ! (She bows her head. The shadows move with a little animation; they offer strange love to each other 75 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES fragments of the lovers life in Scene I. They bring gifts to each other. They dance, hand in hand; then well apart, then hand in hand, then far apart.) He Weren t our gifts She Self-love. He Our thoughts? She Self-love. He Didn t we have each of the other She We are what we want. We love what we receive of what we want. Somewhere between mountain and sea, relation falls. He What did you want? She Your me. He And I? She My you. (He bows his head. She notices the shadows.) She Those people out there moving about in mist, dancing mist, dancing blue-gray mist (or do they do the dancing?) he s always coming so close to her, she s always going so close to him but they never touch. 76 BLUE AND GREEN He Don t you love them? Queer beautiful things. Mist people. Moving mist people. Dancing mist people. You ought to you re one of them. She And you. (The shadows vanish. She rises. He rises, but does not detain her.) He Won t you come again? She Yes, but not here. He Then I may hope She The way I hope. He Just to meet? She Just to meet. He Ah, then we hope She Together, yes. Good-night. He Good-night. (She leaves. He speaks, and leaves in the opposite direction.) The me of me I would have you love is the one who thinks of you. The mes of me who growl their love think of themselves. Only your me loves you. 77 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES In the night, when they, drunk brawling for you, go to their cots, he rises, lights a candle, and silently, bravely, begins a new service. (The man-shadow appears for a moment in Scene II and suggests the reference to the lighting of a candle.) (It is early morning. The young woman may be seen under the eucalyptus. The man-shadow in Scene II dances to her opening lines.) He came, that wistful child, on his way to red, deep red: he came and they tried to tell me, he was dawn. He went, that listless thing, on his way to black, deep black: he went and they tried to tell me, he was night. 78 BLUE AND GREEN (The young man enters. He comes forward with- out astonishment. She joins him.) He I knew I would find you. She I knew you would come. He Are you glad? She I am glad. (They touch hands. He looks about and then at the sky. So does she. The ivoman-shadow joins the man-shadow in Scene II.) He In the great clouds there is rain. A swift rain. A rain that kills. She And a slow rain. A rain that comes like leaves. He I would be the slow rain. She In the hills there is a god who rolls from side to side. He In the valley a no-god who lifts his arms like a tree. She I would be the no-god. He In the market, there are children. And there are old people. Very old people. She I wouldn t be the children, but the old people, the very old people. He There is a woman. Big with gentle yielding. She I would be like her. (He turns her towards the eucalyptus.) 79 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES He There s a tree not far away. I think I could climb it. And I know I d like to climb it. And there s a reason I d like to climb it. Do you see the parasol of flowers that s half the reason the other, I m certain you d like one. (These are the facts.) One of the flowers would .do. It has delicate Indian-red radii She They spread from a cup of an olive shade He And the cup is hard, like an acorn She And the outside turns from olive green to faint amber to old rose He And the cup has a stem, like a darning needle, olive green, faint amber, old rose, a stem you can stick in your hair, or slip in a slit of your bodice your hair is the proper shade, and your bodice of the lemon green. Indeed, you could fancy the flower a parasol and hold it over your head but your head, though small, would feel the sun. She Or the rain ! He (These are facts of the flower.) The tree isn t far away. I feel I could climb it. But a thought hinders me. I ve dealt in flowers heretofore 80 BLUE AND GREEN She And in sea shells, and music, and antiquated books, and coins, and bowls, and nondescript trinkets He And in unseen gifts, intangible things one hasn t a name for. And the folk who took them She Put them to strange uses, devices you never intended. He Often I gave them for the fun of giving not that giving we deem a virtue She But that giving which is solace against asking and receiving. He Often I gave them for the fun of receiving- was that an evil receiving? Often I gave them without calculation at any rate, often I gave them. She And they fell into antics, played upon by folk pranks of character He Pranks I ll never understand She Born of misrepresentation He Innocent misrepresentation. You know the misadventure there are lines, radii, near your eyes and in your cheeks. (These are facts of misadventuring.) She The tree isn t far away. He And you d like, at least, that Indian flower. What shall I do? She Would intimacy come, olive green, faint amber, old rose? 81 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES What would happen then? Pie Lesser radii for the moment? She Deeper radii for all time? He (This is the inference.) Would you have me do? (She nods almost imperceptibly. It has begun, al most imperceptibly, to rain. He leads her under the tree.) He Come and sit down if you aren t afraid? She I am not afraid ! He See, there are fallen flowers here. She You won t have to climb ! He I am tired. She Dear, sit down and I ll bring you a flower. (After a tender pantomime of urging and resist ance, she makes him sit down, and brings him a flower. Pie, too, has found one; so they exchange. She sits down beside him.) . He This isn t Maine! She Nor Oregon! He But it s green here! She And I ll sit down with some other He And I ll sit down with some other She Just like this He Just like that (They laugh quietly.) 82 BLUE AND GREEN He And we ll begin again She If not from the beginning He And I ll recall you She And I ll recall you He And I ll marvel She That one s feeling He Is it the same, though not the same? She It s a little sadder He It s a little sadder? She And a little lonesomer He And a little lonesomer? She I can t breathe, can t live He Without me? She Without me! He Am I your me? She And I yours! He Still? She Still ! (They laugh again, and embrace tenderly.) He And what shall we do for our you? She There is no you He But suppose your me and my you suppose your me and my you She Have a little you? He Have a little you! 83 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES (She rises; he rises. She leads him from the tree. It has stopped raining. The shadows have vanished.) She Let us go. He Which way? She This way. He That way? She And beyond. He And beyond? She Towards you! He And you! (Arm in arm, they disappear. The shadows come for a moment into Scene III and dance an ethereal movement, suggesting an apotheosis of the last mo tive. Curtain.) 84 MANIKIN AND MINIKIN (A Bisque-Play) MANIKIN AND MINIKIN A BISQUE-PLAY (Seen through an oval frame, one of the walls of a parlor. The zvallpaper is a conventionalised pattern. Only the shelf of the mantelpiece shows. At each end, seated on pedestals turned slightly away from one another, two aristocratic bisque figures, a boy in deli cate ccrisse and a girl in cornflower blue. Their shadows join in a grotesque silhouette. In the center, an ancient clock whose tick acts as the metronome for the sound of their high voices. Presently, the mouths of the figures open and shut after the mode of ordi nary conversation.) She Manikin ! He Minikin ? She That fool of a servant has done it again. He I should say, she s more than a fool. She A meddlesome busybody He A brittle-fingered noddy ! She Which way are you looking? What do you see? He The everlasting armchair, the everlasting tiger skin, the everlasting yellow, green and purple books, 87 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES the everlasting portrait of milord She Qh these Yankees ! and I see the everlasting rattan rocker, the everlasting samovar, the everlasting noisy piano, the everlasting portrait of milady He Simpering spectacle ! She What does she want, always dusting? He I should say that is, I d consider the thought She You d consider a lie oh Manikin you re trying to defend her! He I m not defending her She You re trying to He I m not trying to She Then what are you trying to He Well, I d venture to say, if she d only stay away some morning She That s what I say in my dreams ! He She and her broom She Her everlasting broom He She wouldn t be sweeping She Every corner, every cranny, every crevice He And the dust wouldn t move She Wouldn t crawl, wouldn t rise, wouldn t fly- He And cover us all over She Like a spider-web ugh ! He Everlasting dust has been most of our life- She Everlasting years and years of dust! MANIKIN AND MANIKIN He You on your lovely blue gown She And you on your manly pink cloak. He If she didn t sweep, we wouldn t need dusting She Nor need taking down, I should say He With her stupid, clumsy hands She Her crooked, monkey paws He And we wouldn t need putting back She I with my back to you He I with my back to you. She It s been hours, days, weeks by the sound of that everlasting clock and the coming of day and the going of day since I saw you last! He What s the use of the sun with its butterfly wings of light what s the use of a sun made to see by if I can t see you! She Manikin ! He Minikin ? She Say that again ! He Why should I say it again don t you know? She I know, but sometimes I doubt He Why do you, what do you doubt? She Please say it again ! He What s the use of a sun - She What s the use of a sun? He That was made to see by She That was made to see by? He I f I can t see you ! 89 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES She Oh, Manikin! He Minikin? She If you hadn t said that again, my doubt would have filled a balloon. He Your doubt, which doubt, what doubt? She And although I can t move, although I can t move unless somebody shoves me, one of these days when the sun isn t here, I would have slipped over the edge of this everlasting shelf He Minikin ! She And fallen to that everlasting floor into so many fragments, they d never paste Minikin together again! He Minikin, Minikin! She They d have to set another here some Ninikin, I m assured! He Why do you chatter so, prattle so? She -Because of my doubt because I m as. positive as I am that I sit here with my knees in a knot that that human creature loves you. He Loves me? She And you her ! He Minikin ! \ She When she takes us down she holds you much longer. He Minikin ! She I m sufficiently feminine 90 ,^. MANIKIN AND MANIKIN and certainly old enough I and my hundred and seventy years I can see, I can feel by her manner of touching me and her flicking me with her mop the creature hates me she d like to drop me, that s what she would ! He Minikin ! She Don t you venture defending her! Booby you don t know live women! When I m in the right position I can note how she fondles you, pets you like a parrot with her ringer tip, blows a pinch of dust from your eye with her softest breath, holds you off at arm s length and fixes you with her spider look, actually holds you against her cheek her rose-tinted cheek before she releases you! If she didn t turn us apart so often, I wouldn t charge her with insinuation; but now I know she loves you she s as jealous as I am and poor dead me in her live power! Manikin ? He Minikin ? She If you could see me the way you see her He But I see you 91 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES see you always see only you ! She If you could see me the way you see her, you d still love me, you d love me the way you do her! Who made me what I am? Who dreamed me in motionless clay? He Minikin ? She Manikin ? He Will you listen to me? She No ! He Will you listen to me? She No. He Will you listen to me? She Yes. He I love you She No \ He I ve always loved you She No. He You doubt that? She Yes ! He You doubt that? She Yes. He You doubt that? She No. You ve always loved me yes but you don t love me now no 92 MANIKIN AND MANIKIN not since that rose-face encountered your glance no. He Minikin ! She If I could move about the way she can if I had feet- dainty white feet which could twinkle and twirl I d dance you so prettily you d think me a sun butterfly if I could let down my hair and prove you it s longer than larch hair if I could raise my black brows or shrug my Harrow shoulders, like a queen or a countess if I could turn my head, tilt my head, this way and that, like a swan ogle my eyes, like a peacock, till you d marvel, they re green, nay, violet, nay, yellow, nay, gold if I could move, only move just the moment of an inch you would see what I could be! It s a change, it s a change, you men ask of women ! He A change? She You re eye-sick, heart-sick of seeing the same foolish porcelain thing, a hundred years old, 93 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES a hundred and fifty, and sixty, and seventy I don t know how old I am ! He Not an exhalation older than I not an inhalation younger! Minikin ? She Manikin? - He Will you listen to me? She No I He Will you listen to me? She No. He Will you listen to me? She Yes. Pie I don t love that creature She You do. He I can t love that creature She You can. He Will you listen to me? She Yes if you ll tell me if you ll prove me so my last particle of dust the tiniest speck of a molecule the merest electron He Are you listening? She Yes ! He To begin with I dislike, suspect, deplore I had best say, feel compassion 94 MANIKIN AND MANIKIN for what is called, humanity or the animate, as opposed to the inanimate She You say that so wisely you re such a philosopher say it again ! He That which is able to move can never be steadfast, you understand? Let us consider the creature at hand to whom you have referred with an undue excess of admiration adulterated with an undue excess of envy She Say that again! He To begin with I can only see part of her at once. She moves into my vision ; she moves out of my vision; she is doomed to be wayward. She Yes, but that which you see of her He Is ugly, commonplace, unsightly. Her face a rose-face? it s veined with blood and the skin of it wrinkles her eyes are ever so near to a hen s her movements, if one would pay such a gait with regard her gait is unspeakably ungainly her hair She Her hair? He Luckily I ve never seen it down I daresay it comes down in the dark, 95 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES when it looks, most assuredly, like tangled weeds She Again, Manikin, that dulcet phrase! He Even were she beautiful, she were never so beautiful as thou ! She Now you re a poet, Manikin ! He Even were she so beautiful as thou lending her your eyes, and the exquisite head which holds them like a cup two last beads of wine, like a stone two last drops of rain, green, nay, violet, nay, yellow, nay, gold She Faster, Manikin ! He I can t, Minikin ! Words were never given to man to phrase such a one as you are inanimate symbols can never embrace, embody, hold the animate dream that you are I must cease. She Manikin ! He And even were she so beautiful as thou, she couldn t stay beautiful. She Stay beautiful ? He Humans change with each going moment. That is a gray-haired platitude. Just as I can see that creature only when she touches my vision, so I could only see her once, were she beau tiful 96 MANIKIN AND MANIKIN at best, twice or thrice you re more precious- than when you came ! She And you ! He Human pathos penetrates still deeper when one determines their inner life, as we ve pondered their outer. Their inner changes far more desperately. She How so, wise Manikin? He They have what philosophy terms, moods, and moods are more pervious to modulation than pools to idle breezes. These people may say, to begin with I love you. This may be true, I m assured as true as when we say, I love you. But they can only say, I love you, so long as the mood breathes, so long as the breezes blow, so long as water remains wet. They are honest they mean what they say- passionately, tenaciously, tragically but when the mood languishes, they have to say, if it be they are honest I do not love you. Or they have to say, 1 love you, to somebody else. 97 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES She To somebody else? He Now, you and I we ve said that to each other we ve had to say it for a hundred and seventy years and we ll have to say it, always. She Say always again! He The life of an animate She Say always again ! He Always ! The life of an animate is a procession of deaths with but a secret sorrowing candle, guttering lower and lower, on the path to the grave the life of an inanimate is as serenely enduring as all still things are. She Still things? He Recall our childhood in the English museum ere we were moved, from place to place, to this dreadful Yankee salon do you remember that little old Greek tanagra of the girl with a head like a bud that little old Roman medallion of the girl with a head like a She Manikin, Manikin were they so beautiful as I MANIKIN AND MANIKIN did you love them, too why do you bring them back? He They were not so beautiful as thou I spoke of them recalled, designated them well, because they were ages old and and She And and ? He And we might live as long as they as they did and do! I hinted their existence because they re not so beautiful as thou, so that by contrast and deduction She And deduction? He You know what I d say She But say it again ! He I love you. She Manikin ? He Minikin ? She Then even though that creature has turned us apart, can you see me? He I can see you. She Even though you haven t seen me for hours, days, weeks with your dear blue eyes you can see me with your hidden ones? He I can see you. She Even though you are still, 99 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES and calm, and smooth, and lovely outside you aren t still and calm and smooth and lovely inside? He Lovely, yes but not still and calm and smooth ! She Which way are you looking? What do you see? He I look at you. I see you. She And "if that fool of a servant oh, Manikin suppose she should break the future our great, happy centuries ahead by dropping me, throwing me down? He I should take an immediate step off this everlasting shelf She But you cannot move! He The good wind would give me a blow! She Now you re a punster ! And what would your fragments do? Pie They d do what Manikin did. She Say that again! He They d do what Manikin did. . . . She Manikin ? He Minikin ? 67^ Shall I tell you something? He Tell me something. She Are you listening? He With my inner ears. 100 MANIKIN AND MAN 11*1$: She I wasn t jealous of that woman He You weren t jealous? She I wanted to hear you talk HeYou wanted to hear me talk? She You talk so wonderfully! He Do I, indeed? What a booby I am ! She And I wanted to hear you say He You cheat, you idler, you She Woman He Dissembler ! She Manikin ? He Minikin? She Everlastingly ? He Everlastingly. She Say it again! He I refuse She You refuse? He Well She Well ? He You have ears outside your head I ll say that for you but they ll never hear what your other ears hear! She Say it down one of the ears outside my head? He I refuse. She You refuse? He Leave me alone. She Manikin ? 101 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES He I can t say it! She Manikin ! (The clock goes on ticking for a moment. Its mel low chimes strike the hour. Curtain.) 102 PEOPLE WHO DIE (A Dream-Play) PEOPLE WHO DIE A DREAM -PLAY (A man and a woman are sitting on a bench in front of a curtain they might be 35 years old. She is leaning against his shoulder and looking at a tablet which rests on his lap. He is moving his pencil idly over the tablet.) He I should like to write a play about death, but it must not have people in it. It must have people in it, but not people who die. It must have death in it, but the death must not touch people who die. She Such a play would not be a tragedy. He The death must touch the people who die in people nay, the people who die between people. She Such a play might be a tragedy. He The play, then, must not have people in it people do not act in plays what is between them acts in plays the people between them they act in plays. This is always the way of the plot: 105 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES people are alone : people seek each other : people come of the seeking: of the finding, asking, giving: it is they who act in plays: it is they who die. She You would write the play about them? He Nay, I should like the play to be my play, the people, my people ! She Nay, I should like the play to be my play, the people, my people ! He Nay, the people, our people, the play, our play ! She Such a play would be a comedy! He Will you do the other part? (A gong sounds gently.) SheSh ! Begin ! There goes the curtain call! (The curtain spreads part way. A second curtain, or drapery, old rose in color, is disclosed, and a young man and a young woman they might be 20 years old. Rapid dialogue.) He My thought of you is is like a rainbow it it is an iris no it is a peacock She Why isn t it like a rainbow? He It s like a rainbow and it isn t like a rainbow it s a rainbow when you can see a rainbow not a rainbow when a rainbow is gone. 106 PEOPLE WHO DIE She Why isn t it an iris? He It it is an iris and it it isn t an iris it s an iris when an iris holds her bloom like a lady not an iris when she s old and faint and faded. She Then it s a peacock? He It isn t a peacock it s a peacock when a peacock opens his tail eyes and each eye sees you in its own way whatever the color and shape of it it isn t a peacock when he shuts his head eyes and brings all the others back to sleep. She Then your thought of me changes? He It doesn t change ! It it s more like an opal yes it s more like an opal She Doesn t an opal change? He The water in an opal moves the quicksilver quavers the music undulates but the stone, the stone the stone of an opal is still it s the stone of an opal ! She Your thought of me? He My thought of you! She And I? He You? She What am I? 107 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES He you? Why you are what I ve been saying of you you I can t say what you are you are more than my thought of you deeper, higher, more colorful, beautiful, still- SheOh ! He Oh? She I want your thought to be like me I I want to be like your thought you you are holding us apart me and your thought of me ! He No! She No? You how shall I know you love me you love what you think of me ! He I do not I see here ! What is your thought of me if it isn t like my thought of you? She My thought of you is is like a zebra it it has big stripes in it big stripes of faith He You stutter just as I do! She It it isn t like a leopard the spots never change He You have two spots in your head they change She They do not He They change me ! 108 PEOPLE WHO DIE She You change? He From happy to happier to happiest to most happiest ! She Come back ! He You ll have to bring me! (She kisses him.) She Are you back again? He From most happiest to happiest to happier to happy. She Only happy? He Don t send me off again ! (She holds him.) He Have you got me? She I hope so. He Then don t you look at me ! SheYou ! He You ! She Rainbow He Zebra She Peacock He Leopard She I ll eat you. He Eat away ! She Tail and all! He Don t forget the stone! She I can t eat the stone? He Swallow it! She It will kill me? He I hope so. She You ! 109 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES He You ! (The curtain closes abruptly. After a pause, the woman speaks slowly.) She That was fifteen years ago. He That was fifteen years ago. She And they are dead. He And they are dead. She Two marionnettes ! He Not marionnettes ! She Two dear little people. He Two dear little people. She Why did they die? He Don t disturb the plot- let them show the way they died. She I don t want to see any more it s a tragedy He Tragedy there, but a comedy here ! She They are dead. He They are alive. She Poor dear little people. He Rich dear little people. She They were kind. He They were kind. She Little grandfather. He Little grandmother. She You. He You. She I don t want to see any more. (The gong sounds again.) HeSh\ Behave! 110 PEOPLE WHO DIE There goes the curtain call ! (The curtain spreads part way. A third curtain, or drapery, gray in color, is disclosed, and a young man and a young woman they might be 25 years old. Moderato dialogue.) He And what do you see now? She The image isn t the same. He And only a moment ago She I looked just then like a gargoyle in a tree, I looked just now like a pixy or a dwarf. He And only a moment ago, you looked like a child seeing light? What made the water move ? She The wind made the water move the wind sent a child-like breeze the breeze blew like a child blowing a bubble, just before the bubble has gone too far. He And all is still down there again? She Still down there, but not in me. He Why isn t it still in you ? She You know why. He Where did the child of the wind come from? She Outside. He You didn t make the water move ? She I didn t make the water move. He I didn t make the water move ? She You didn t make the water move. Ill PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES He Look again. She I am looking. He All is still down there ? She Still down there, but not in me. He What has happened to the wind outside ? She The wind outside flew away, and left a child of itself in me, and the twin child He The twin child? She You have the twin child in you. He I have not She You have dear you must not lie we must not lie you agreed, we must not lie. He I agreed, we must not lie. She What has happened to me has happened to you I am not alone in this? He You are not alone in this. She You look again. He I am looking. She What do you see now ? He The image of myself. She The image? He Myself. She What do you look like? He I don t want to look I don t want to see. 112 PEOPLE WHO DIE She You said you would look. He I said I would. She And we said we would be honest. He We said we would. She Now you want to turn away. He It hurts to look at oneself. She Even for us ? He Even for us. She We will never be able to see, unless you see yourself, and I myself. He And I tell you what I see. She And I tell you what I see. He You will never be able to see me till I tell you what I see. She Now you are brave you have said it at last. He You are braver than I. She Heretofore He Ah, heretofore She We were dishonest He We weren t dishonest She We weren t dishonest but we saw only what we tried to see I looked only at you and you at me and I only looked at you by looking at myself. He And I at me. She And I told you what I saw in me was you so when a breeze came, and a second breeze, 113 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES and a wind, and a wind, and a wind He And a wind, and a wind, and a wind She I no longer saw you in me you in me vanished. He And you in me. She Look at me in the pool. He I won t look. She Be brave. He I can t be. She I ll look at you in the pool? He I will look. She Lean farther this way bring your head closer what do you see ? He You. She No? He My image of you. She Sit up- shut your eyes what do you see now ? He I see a pool. She Where is the pool ? He Down in me. She Does the water move? He The water moves. She Why does it move ? He I see you there. She You see the image you saw outside you mustn t see that if it weren t there the water wouldn t move 114 PEOPLE WHO DIE He I know. She You must see yourself ! He I can t see myself if I don t see you ! She That is where the shadow moves ! If it would only die ! He What shall we do? She I don t know. He I want to open my eyes. She Don t, don t ! He It is dark ! I am afraid ! She You must be brave. He Give me your hand. She Here. He Where is it? She There. He If the shadow would only die! She Be brave, and it will die. He I begin to see myself She What do you see? He I only begin to see She Look, look and tell me what you see ! He I wish you would look for me ! She I cannot I must not tell me what you see? He I cannot I still see 115 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES what I am trying to see! She Me? He You. Oh give me yet a while the length of a breeze the last breeze to be brave ? She I will. He The last breeze is so soft so beautiful and clear water so cruel. She And will you tell me ? He As soon as I can see. She Then here is the last breeze. (She caresses him quickly. He opens his eyes. He caresses her. She opens her eyes.) He Gargoyle She Child He Pixy She Child. (The curtain closes abruptly. After a pause, the woman speaks excitedly.) She That was ten years ago. He More or less. She How could she- how dare she be so cruel ? He She was brave. There s no bravery like cruelty. She She had a poniard in her she stabbed him with it 116 PEOPLE WHO DIE how he bled, how he died He As brave a human She He? He She ! She made him see himself he who would look at her there s no bravery like that She What did he see? He You know \vhat he saw you mustn t disturb the plot. She I don t want any plot, I don t want any play tell me what he saw ! He The surest way to life is art She I don t want to see life, I don t want to see art tell me what he saw ! He You know what he saw if you don t you re still you re an owl in the sun ! She I know- he saw the most beautiful the most courageous the most patient He Superlative hyperbole three lies in succession lies have no part in real life? She I m not lying He Sh ! She It s you who would lie 117 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES HeSh\ She He saw he saw he still sees he still sees He Be still ! (The gong sounds again.) He There goes the curtain call ! She I don t want your dumb play- it s horrible I want He We can t hold curtains for you and your wants She I want He Be still! She Stupid old play ! He Sh! (The curtain spreads part zvay. A fourth curtain, or drapery, blue in color, is disclosed, and a young man and a young woman they might be 30 years old.) He I know a shell, a plain white shell, I like to hold to my ear. Perhaps it tells something in no phrase different from the talk of other shells ; perhaps it isn t kin to sea sand or white clouds ; perhaps it is only 118 PEOPLE WHO DIE myself I hear there. But I know a shell, a plain white shell, I like to hold to my ear. She What a quaint soft tune ! And where is the shell? Is it this one? He That has three coral veins in it one touch of red, and the white is gone ! She Is it this one? He That has a speck, a blue speck like a white dream doubted. She Is it this this is a white? He That is a white, but not the white of the tune. She Where is the shell you know? Didn t the sea bring it in? He The sea didn t bring it. She How could you find it sea shells come from the sea ? He This isn t a sea shell. She Then you didn t find it here? He I found it here. She You know a shell, a plain white shell, you like to hold to your ear. It must be outside of you ? He Because I can see myself. She What has that to do with hearing? 119 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES He The roar inside must subside ere I can see myself, and hear. She The roar inside ? He The roar of you. She We were two oceans? He We were. She And what are we now? He Two people, each with a shell to his ear. She Perhaps it tells something in no phrase different from the talk of other shells. What does that say to you? He Shells all tell the same tale after they have left the ocean. She Ours have left the ocean? He Utterly. She He taught them their tale? He lie did. She What did he tell them ? He He said, I am alone he said, there is another, alone as I he said, tell that other, I am alone he said, ask that other, is she alone? he said, tell that other, 120 PEOPLE WHO DIE I am she, and she is I he said, ask that other She Ask that other? //^Whether I lie? She She said, tell that other, he does not lie. He Perhaps it isn t kin She To sea sand or white clouds. What does that say to you? He Sea sand and white clouds go away. She What makes them move? He The water in them. She Shells do not move? He Shells do not move. She They came from the oceans? Oceans are water? He The oceans were still and so, then, the tale they gave to the shells. She A tale is very delicate! He And indestructible ! She Perhaps it is only myself I hear there He Perhaps it is only myself I hear there. 121 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES She A quaint soft tune! Has your stillness another to sing to me? He One plus one plus one plus She I ll give you green kelp for laurel cap? He Wear it round your neck. Are you ready? She I am. He Hold the shell to your ear. She This one? He No, that one. She Which one? He Your hand. She Which hand ? // Either. She The other would be lonesome? He Give it to me. Are you ready? She-^- Yes, hurry. He Close it tight or a breeze will slip in ! She Simpleton sprite fish- dolphin He Do you worship She Wait, I must listen ! Now ! Come ! He Do you worship a sea to which you can never be more 122 PEOPLE WHO DIE than a stone for melting into sand? It is greater than revenge! Are you carving a pebble, one foolish white pebble, the waves cannot reach? It is greater than sflence, a thing to scorn dissolution, a greater tomb than mountains ! She That is a queer, a terrible tune. He Queer, not terrible. She Is it the same sea, the same? He The same two seas. She And the pebble you are the pebble! He And you. SheOh\ He Oh? She Let s throw pebbles to each other- there are millions of pebbles here! He Throw pebbles? She Toss them ever so gently let s play we are pebbles and toss them like rainbow curves or an ellipse of the moon or arc of fountain streams! HeSh some of them might fall ! She I don t care 123 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES there are others millions of them let s play we are pebbles even unto the last one our tomb the tomb pebble ! He Nymph sea-urchin mollusc ShePebble ! // Pebble ! (They begin to toss imaginary pebbles with varied exclamations. The curtain closes abruptly. After a pause, the woman speaks dreamily.} She I am tired, very sleepy He That was five years ago. She I am very tired, very sleepy He That was five years ago. She Put your tablet away let it rest He I should like to write a play about life, this play is too much like a dream. I should like to write the play about life, but it must not have people in it, people are too much like a dream. She Ob- He It must have people in it, but not people who live. 124 PEOPLE WHO DIE It must have a dream in it, but the dream must not touch people who live. She Oh I am so sleepy my head is so sleepy He The life must touch the people who dream in people nay, the people She The people He The people She Where is your arm do you love me? put it about me. He Where is yours do you love me? put yours about me. She Are you tired? He I am tired. She Shut your eyes. He Shut your eyes. (Gradually, they fall into a doze. Gradually, the curtain opens part way. The scene is fairly dark, but the outlines of two shadows may be discerned. They speak in lively echo-whispers.} He Hello, dream ! She Hello, dream ! He What are you doing here? She What are you doing here ? He W T hy did you go away? 125 PLAYS FOR POEM-MIMES She Why did you go away? He You said you d never return? She You said you d never return? He What do you want now? She What do you want now? He I want you! She I want you! He Come and catch me ! She Come and catch me ! He Go away ! She Go away! He Don t go away! She Don t go away ! He If you must go She If you must go He Don t go for more than a nap ! She Don t go for more than a nap! He Hello, people ! She Hello, people! He Have you got me? She Have you got me? (He laughs; she laughs.) (Final Curtain.) 126 The initial performances were given by the follow ing casts, to whom the author sends his grateful obeisance : The St. Louis Players in "When the Willow Nods" : The Old Figure Orrick Johns The Lass Marie Church The First Lad George O Neil The Second Lad John J. Johns The Provincetown Players in "Lima Beans" : The Wife Mina Loy The Husband William Carlos Williams The Huckster William Zorach The St. Louis Players in "Manikin and Minikin": Manikin Susan Cost Minikin Cornelia McNair The Other Players in "Jack s House" A Melo- Poem the music by Julian Freedman : Jack Rihani Jack s Wife Edna St. Vincent Millay < Wa. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY BERKELEY Return to desk from which borrowed. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. .- MUM 30^948 MAR12 19 W PORTAL rtOV REG. CIR. MAR 83 1979 21-100m-9, 47(A5702sl6)476 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY