. 
 
 
 
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