M BY PERCY MACKAYE The Canterbury Pilgrims. A Comedy. Jeanne d Arc. A Tragedy. Sappho and Phaon. A Tragedy. Fenris the Wolf. A Tragedy. A Garland to Sylvia. A Dramatic Reverie. The Scarecrow. A Tragedy of the Ludi crous. Yankee Fantasies. Five One-Act Plays. Mater. An American Study in Comedy. Anti-Matrimony. A Satirical Comedy. To-morrow. A Play in Three Acts. Sanctuary. A Bird Masque. A Thousand Years Ago. A Romance of the Orient. Poems. Uriel, and Other Poems. Lincoln: A Centenary Ode. The Playhouse and the Play. Essays. The Civic Theatre. Essays. At all booksellers ORNIS (Miss Eleanor Wilson) SANCTUARY A Bird Masque BY PERCY MACKAYE With a Prelude by ARVIA MACKAYE Illustrated with Photographs in Color and Monotone by ARNOLD GENTHE NEW YORK FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY PUBLISHERS Copyright, 1013, 1014, PERCY MAC-KAYE All rights reserved THE- PLIMPTON- PRESS February, 1914 N o R w o o D - M A s s u s TO ERNEST HAROLD BAYNES WILD NATURE S HUMAN SYMPATHIZER IN ADMIRATION OK HIS DAUNTLESS SERVICE TO THE BIRDS 287948 NOTE REGARDING PERFORMANCE AND PUBLIC READING Requests for permission to perform or read pub licly this Bird Masque having been received from a great many quarters, the following m- formation is Inere given for those desiring such permission: The Masque is copyrighted in the United States and countries of the Copyright Union, and all rights are reserved. The purpose of the Masque is to be of public use, so that all adequate presentations of it are wel come. To this end the special conditions of performance or public reading should in each case be communicated direct to the author, in care of the publisher. No performances may be given without such direct communication, and permission thus first ob tained. As the publication of this text is designed to serve the definite cause for which it was written, per- NOTE formances must be, in some degree at least, for the benefit of Wild Bird Conservation. Music for the lyrics " The Hermit Thrush " and the three songs of Quercus has been composed by Frederick S. Converse, and is published by the H. W. Gray Company, 2 West 45th Street, New York. A bird bath, specially designed for use in bird sanctuaries and gardens, with plastic groupings of characters in the original cast of this Masque, has been executed by Mrs. Louis Saint-Gaudens, Cornish, New Hampshire, post office Windsor, Vermont. The four photographs in color, as well as those in black and white, which illustrate this volume were taken by Dr. Arnold Genthe of enactors in the Masque, as first performed by members of the Cornish Colony and the Meriden Bird Club, at Meriden, New Hampshire, September 12, 1913. FOREWORD This Masque was written for the dedication of the bird sanctuary of the Meriden Bird Club of Meriden, New Hampshire, where it was first performed on the night of September twelfth, 1913. The text was composed, the lyrics set to music, the masque rehearsed, costumed and acted, within the brief space of a month. Its production came about by a spontaneous and glad coopera tion of artists, neighbors, lovers of nature, imbued with a deep feeling in common concern for the welfare of wild birds. In this important concern its enactors were happily encouraged by the sym pathetic presence of the President of the United States and the participation of his family. Swift and spontaneous as its production was, however, the masque in its reasons for being was not unpremeditated. It took its origin from two important sources, rarely, if ever, associated nature study, and the art of the theatre. The union of these was its raison d etre. / However tentative its realization, it stands none the less as a pioneering suggestion of real mo- [ix] FOREWORD mcnt to those two potent influences upon our na tional life. As such it has seemed worth while to present to the public, and to make clear the sug gestion which it illustrates, however sketchily. From a recent volume by the writer on "The Civic Theatre, in Relation to the Redemption of Leisure," I quote the following paragraphs upon "Nature Symbols," as they apply directly to this subject : "The relation of the theatre s art to the natural ist s vocation is probably not obvious to the man on the street. That is because the commercial theatre relates itself to so few of the pursuits of science outside of Broadway interests. The civic theatre would do otherwise. "Aristophanes symbolized the birds for the pur poses of Greek satire. The costuming of his play in Athens probably expressed no direct attribution to the science of ornithology. Yet its attribution to the Greek race s intimate love of Nature was as spontaneous as the symbolizing of flowers in the capitals of their temple columns. The movement to-day for the conservation of our birds and their more intimate study might well take on significant, lovely forms of symbolic expression in pageants, festivals and the drama of the civic theatre. "By the same art, the fascinating designs, em- FOREWORD bossings, colorings, of insect forms could be sym bolized in spectacles of astonishing beauty, moti vated dramatically to the real and tremendous human relation which that ignored but pestiferous race bears to human society and the state ; as wit ness the movement, involving millions in taxes, for exterminating the gypsy moth and the boll weevil. "Such implications for art may seem, at first, a far cry from actual possibilities of the theatre ; yet thus may the civic theatre directly relate its activities not only to the enthusiasms of natural ists in the fields and woods, but to the inspiring studies of scholars in their laboratories: a co operation which may soon stultify the popular no tion that art and science are divorced in their special aims. The same relation of the theatre s symbolic art to- all the sciences the discoveries of chemistry, the splendid imaginings of engineering is implied in their common aim: the bringing of greater joy, beauty, understanding, to our fellow men and women, the people. "Science represents idea, art its expression ; the atrical art its expression in forms best adapted to convened numbers of the people. The forms of popular art, therefore, are limited only by the ideas of man." It is thus as an illustration of one of the mult.i- [xi] FOREWORD form genres of the civic theatre s potential art that this little masque has its main significance. Before the actual establishment of the Civic Theatre among us, the opportunities of the work ing dramatist to make tangible contributions by his art to its repertory are, of course, very scant and at best groping and experimental. One such as the present may serve, however, to suggest certain immediate, practical possibilities. If, for instance, every bird sanctuary were to possess its stage and auditorium for bird masques if every Natural History Museum had its out door theatre, equipped to set forth the multitudi nous human meanings of its nature exhibits to the crowds that frequent its doors in their hours of leisure if the directors of every Zoological Park were to provide for it a scenic arena, and seek the civic cooperation of the dramatic poet and the atrical expert, to vivify by their art the tre mendous life stories of wild nature to the receptive minds of the human thousands convened to listen and behold by such means, would not the disci ples of nature study not simply adopt for their own ends a means of education and publicity a thousandfold more dynamic, imaginative and popular than any of the static means of exhibits, lectures and published volumes on which they [xii] FOREWORD now rely : would they not also thereby splendidly assist in enlarging the civic scope of the theatre s art, still cramped, as for generations, within the walls of speculation and commercialism? These suggestions speak for themselves. If this Bird Masque shall help, in the slightest degree, to illustrate them, it will do its ephemeral service in the only permanent sanctuary of men as of birds imagination. PERCY MACKAYE. CORNISH, NEW HAMPSHIRE, October, 1913. [xiii] PERSONS OF THE MASQUE 1 in the order of their appearance QUERCUS, faun ALWYN, poet SHY, naturalist TACITA, dryad ORNIS, bird spirit STARK, plume hunter PARTICIPANTS IN PANTOMIME Hunter Attendants of Stark Many species of birds in human form, garbed symbolically SCENE The sylvan glade of a bird sanctuary. 1 The complete programme of the original production of the masque, as first enacted at Meriden, New Hampshire, by members of the Cornish Colony and the Meriden Bird Club, is printed in the AFTERWORD of this volume. THE PRELUDE THE LITTLE GIRL FALLS INTO RE V ERIE THE PRELUDE Wandering in the quiet of the bird sanctuary, a little girl hears the roice of a hermit thrush,, and meditates this song : THE SONG While walking through a lonely wood I heard a lovely voice : A voice so fresh and true and good It made my heart rejoice. It sounded like a Sunday hell Rung softly in a town. Or like a stream that in a dell Forever trickles down. It seemed to be a voice of love That always had loved me, So softly it rang out above. So wild and wanderingly. O Voice, were you a golden dove. Or just a plain gray bird? O Voice, you are my wandering love Lost, yet forever heard, [xix] SANCTUARY Passing on deeper into the wood, the little girl thinks dreamily of all wild birds and the wrongs done to them by their human brothers and sisters. Out of her reverie grows the Masque which follows. [XX] THE MASQUE THE MASQUE I Dawn. The woods are silent, save for bird pipings. In the background, verdure of young pines and ancient boles of oaks form the dim- pillared entrance to a forest shrine. Artfully placed on tree trunk and bough are nest boxes of bark. On one side stands a low weather cock food- house; on the other, a tall martin-house pole. In the shade of a great oak glimmers the shallow pool of a bird bath. [3] SANCTUARY Peeping at this from behind the oak, ap pears, vanishes and appears again the horned head of QUERCUS, a faun. Stealing forth, QUERCUS approaches the pool, bearing in one hand an enormous pitcher plant. Peering upward among the boughs, he raises his voice in quaint falsetto, and sings. QUERCUS Veery, veery ! vireo ! Waxwing wild! warbler wary! Ori- ori- oriole! Seek our sanctuary! Robin rath, Little tail-twitcher, Drink from my pitcher, Dip in my bath! Dew s in my bath, Rain s in my pitcher, Dawn s in the greenwood eerie : Hither, highhole ! Redpoll! Oriole ! Vireo! - veery! [From his pitcher plant QUERCUS pours [4] S A N C T U A R Y into tlie bird bath. Skipping then to a little swinging bird-house,, he sprinkles its shelf with seed from a pouch. Here he pauses dreamily; furtively takes out and fingers a pipe; blows a few notes, pauses, starts, puts it quickly away, stoops his ear to the ground, springs away to the oak, and snatches an ivied staff which stands against the trunk. The staff is designed like a martin- house pole in miniature. Placing him self on guard where a foot-path enters the glade, he calls:] Stand yonder! Hold! who treads beneath my trees? A VOICE [Outside.] A friend. QUERCUS A friend to what ? THE VOICE To Song, and Song s melodious silences. [5] SANCTUARY QUERCUS Still enter not. The race of wings reigns in this solitude. No foot may here intrude Without fair passport. Tell me first your name And cause of coming here. [6] II QUERCUS. ALWYN. [A YOUNG MAN enters, pausing in the patli.] THE MAN [ROM hence even now a pip ing filled mine ear With quaintish memory : familiar, Yet old, it seemed. Long since, I heard the same Lulling to paleness the white morning star Among Sicilian oaks. So here I came To spy upon the piper. Now, methinks, I know him, by those horns and merry winks. Good morrow, Quercus, the faun! QUERCUS Now, by Lord Pan ! The poet s ear and eye still spy me out. [7] SANCTUARY Alwyn, maker of songs hail to you, master! You ! Can it really be? ALWYN It can, And is by Pan, our ancient pastor! But you, slant shanks, what make you here at dawn? QUERCUS Newf angleness ! The classic gout Still crooks my knees with the old lyric wine, But now they run new errands. [Flourishing his staff.] Lo, the sign Of my new office! ALWYN New! What may that be? QUERCUS Wood warden of the wild birds sanctuary: Janitor of their sylvan temple! See, My staff acclaims me. Poor Mercutius! Old mythologic nature-faker, He s out of date with his caduceus. Behold in me A modern science-tutored fairy [8] S A N C T U A R Y And practical care-taker Grand marshal of the martin-house! ALWYN [Pointing at QUERCUS staff .] Of that? QUERCUS Xay, this, my bard, is but the breviat And little pattern. [Pointing toward a tall martin-house pole.] Yonder, you behold The real palace. Through those portals We lure the feathered broods to fold Their wings above the world of thievish mor tals. ALWYN We say you? Who are we? QUERCUS Myself and my lord master. ALWYX And what s he? QUERCUS Xay, if I knew, I should be wiser. He is the fellow of all friendless things, [9] SANCTUARY Wild nature s human sympathizer: In form a man, yet footed so with silence The deer mistake him for their brother ; so Swift that, meseems, he borrows the birds wings ; An eye, that glows and twinks Through noon like twilight s vesper star; an ear That harks a mile hence The purring of a lynx ! I love him, follow, obey him, yet I know Xaught of him but his love. ALWYN Xot even his name? QUERCUS Yea, what men call him by; And he is like the same. Men call him Master Shy. ALWYN Ah, Shy, the naturalist. Why, he is my good crony. If he wist [10] SANCTUARY To rhyme he d be a better bard than I. How do you serve him? QUERCUS I m crew to his Jason! I multiply myself for rare adventures, And serve his Ship of Birds as carpenter, Box- joiner, bath-cementer, mason, Seed-storer, water-carrier, Worm-steward, nest-ward, treehouse thatch- er, Man-chaser and mouse-catcher. ALWYN Nay, do you please in all? QUERCUS I carry to his call, And never yet have earned his censures For botch or shirk. ALWYN I prithee show me of your handiwork. What s here this little box With paddle wings? SANCTUARY QUERCUS One of our weather-cocks. Look you, it swings: So when, in winter, the white tempest blows, Here sit the birds at breakfast mid the snows, With porch turned ever to the cosy side. In that cold time, my master Shy Brings more devices to provide Bird-comfort : Food-bells full of millet We place in covert nooks, and tie Our knitted suet bags on many a bough Of pine and larch. And I must plough Through many a drift, to crack the frozen rillet For little beaks to drink. ALWYN By Phoebus, now Is this in sooth mine old Sicilian faun, That wont of yore to dally On violet-scented lawn With lily-crowned nymphs in lovelorn val ley!* What modern change is here? What magic [12] SANCTUARY QUERCUS Hush! [With lowered voice, he looks around war ty-] I am not always quite so modern! At times at times as when just now You heard me pipe below this bough I slip my master s traces, And slink by paths untrodden To lovelorn, lush Arcadian places, Where Philomel still lingers, Plaining her ancient pity, And there I fetch forth this With idling fingers, And, pouting on its lip my kiss, I pipe some dulcet, old, bucolic ditty. [Taking out his pipe, he plays again a few languorous strains, but breaks off abruptly. ] Whist! Here he comes. It grates upon his ear. [13] IS THIS IN SOOTH MINE OLD SICILIAN PAUNf Ill SHY. QUERCUS. ALWYX. SHY [Enters, carrying a nest-box. ,] HERMIT thrush is pleasanter to hear. [He greets ALWYX.] Good morning, friend! How comes it you are caught Walking so early? Poets, I had thought, Salute the sunrise only in their song. ALWYX \JSmiKng J\ Fie, then! You do us wrong: We rhyming slugabeds Walk with Aurora at our pillows heads, For dreamers can see dawn rise in the dark. Poets are owls that elegize the lark. SHY And now you ll talk to me of nightingales! [15] SANCTUARY Three birds exhaust your bard s vocabulary : Larks, nightingales and owls! High time, you see, To wean this fellow from your piper s tales, And teach him craftily To build our hungry birds a homelike sanc tuary. ALWYN [Patting QUERCUS shoulder.] Good Shy, no schooling could so much relieve My modern apprehensions: Tutor him, Hoof, head and limb, And let me humbly hearken. By your leave, God shall provide the da\vn, And you the tutelage, and I the faun. QUERCUS Waiting, my masters! ALWYN Give your pipe to me! QUERCUS [Holding it behind him. } Must I give up my pipe? The sound is sweet. [16] SANCTUARY ALWYN Truth is more sweet than melody, And wisdom than melodious words. When you have learned to greet With their own mystic speech all living birds And minister to their necessity, This pipe shall be restored, and we will make Together a new song, more sweet for knowl edge sake. [In pantomime, he demands and receives the pipe from QUERCUS. SHY then ad dresses QUERCUS.] SHY This nest-box : Nail it on the barest bough Of that tall maple. Place it well, Like yonder one. QUERCUS Right, master. Now! SHY Soft, soft! Not so pell-mell! You ll scare that nuthatch at her nesting. First tell me of your other questing Those errands which I sent you yesterday. [17] SANCTUARY QUERCUS That cowbird, master, SHY Did she lay Her egg? QUERCUS Indeed she did, the pest ! She laid it in a redstart s nest; But up I poked my nose in, nabbed it And cracked it cursory: Good Mama Redstart now can hatch her nursery Without a big stepchild to smother her chicks. SHY Old Deacon Rathburne s tom-cat, is he- dead? QUERCUS What, Tom, that dabbled in gore the wee goldfinches ? [He nods shrewdly.] Wild huckleberries are growing at his head! That almost got you in the fix: Old Deacon saw me do it, blabbed it, [18] S A N C T U A R Y And Missus sicked her dachshund at my heels. [Grinning.] Eh, master, it s your shoe that pinches! SHY When cats invade bird-temples, boy, it feels Good to be wicked. But tell me of our forest planting ground: What shrubs and creepers have you found And marked, to make our shelter thicket? QUERCUS Why, sir, to give it Birdblithesomeness, I ve chose Shad bush, blue cornel, withe rod, privet, Red osier, raspberry, wild rose, Black haw, and dangleberry. SHY A proper list! What trees deciduous ? QUERCUS Box-elder and bird cherry, White ash, gray birch and cockspur thorn. [19] S A N C T U A 11 Y ALAVYN What make you thus? Some sylvan pound, to stalk an unicorn? SHY Good poet, whist! Xo more mythology. Your faun is learning better. Truce! ALWYN Most humbly, my apology! SHY So, Quercus: and what evergreens? QUERCUS White spruce, Red cedar, balsam fir, and Norway pine. SHY Good, fellow! Fine! In such a shelter- tangle we can hatch Ten thousand nestlings. Run, now 1 Catch That squirrel there, before He makes his call at your new nest-box door. [20] SANCTUAll Y QUERCUS [Skipping to the maple tree. } Right, master! Heigh, Sir Alwyn ho! Just see now what a jack-o -trades your Quercus is! When Master Shy discharges me, I ll go And rent nine fairy-rings, and start three circuses ! [Climbing among the branches, he disap pears, whistling bird-notes.] A L W Y N IV ALWYN. SHY. ALWYN HY honest friend, your hand once more! SHY Heartily! Welcome to this wood. ALWYN Do you recall how once we stood Here, and discoursed of songs I made of yore Dryads and poet s dreams? SHY Yes, I recall I wondered at them all. ALWYN First as to-day you smiled Your incredulity of my quaint creed, Till soon, in further converse, we agreed [23] SANCTUARY In nature s heart our faiths are reconciled. For both of us seek nature s fellowship, The common language of all living things: I more in music of the human lip, You in the whirr of beaks and wings. So both- craving the beautiful- Still worship the same shrine and oracle: This temple, and its dryad Tacita. SHY I will confess Of all the nymphs in your Arcadia I worship her Alone. ALWYN Because her moods are numberless I do the same. Between the heart of Man And Nature s heart, which I do name God Pan, She stands and moves divine interpreter, Translating with her shy and pagan dances Our world life and its trances. SHY She is, in truth, The sylvan priestess of this sanctuary. S A N C T U A R Y ALWYN [Eagerly.] What if, through her as intermediary, And after thousand ages of uncouth Estrangement, what, I say, if we Might find through her the key To comprehend the native speech of birds, And hold communion with them in our hu man words! Would not that be a modern consummation Nobler than fable? SHY Almost, I would have said, we might be able, If it were not for one who scorns this shrine And violates the beauty of creation, Marring all contemplative quietude. ALWYX Whom do you speak of? SHY One whom the red wine Of slaughter has made drunk, and the false glister Of dollars dazzled with blind arrogance. [25] SANCTUARY Close by this wood He plies a bold, sinister Traffic in wings and plumage. Not by chance But calculated orgies, he commits His venal murders, slits The bridal plumes from backs of mating birds, And leaves the nested broods Unhatched or starveling. So he girds His loins, and like the Patagonian Displays his feathered trophies: not a man Swayed by ecstatic moods, Xor even to equip A hardy sportsmanship; Not so: he slaughters birds for stocks and bonds, And when we challenge, smiling he responds : "Mine is a lawful market, where fine ladies pay For plumes, to wear on Sabbaths and Christ s Easter day." ALWYN What is this desecrator s name? [26] SANCTUARY SHY Stark, the plume-hunter. ALWYN Surely he dares not Track his defenseless game Here to this hallowed spot! SHY No place is holy to unhallowed minds : He covets gain, and grasps it where he finds. ALWYN Still I have faith That Tacita, in her serenity, Is mightier than he. SHY Ah, nature s quiet mood is delicate And crushes like a flower. ALWYN Faith without works is vain, the Prophet saith. So now, while nature muses in the thrush, Here let us sit this hour, [27] SANCTUARY And meditate On Tacita, till meditation shall create Its own shy image. Hush! [They sit upon a log and listen. ] [28] V TACITA. ALWYN. SHY. [Dreamily, the fluting of birds sounds in the forest. Dimly from the background TACITA appears. With steps of rev erie, she approaches, and pauses before them. ALWYX looks up and, touching SHY S arm, speaks low.] ACITA! It is she! SHY Speak to her you. ALWYN Dryad, and spirit of serenity, Whose steps have fallen timeful as the dew Upon our pathway, intervene For us with that still-undiscovered queen Ornis, who reigns among your ancient boughs [29] SANCTUARY Spirit of birds and sister of our race, Man. Stir your spell-enchanted feet, And by their moods arouse Her hidden grace To heed us, and hold speech from realms un seen. [To mysterious music, TACITA treads a dance of invocation, appealing in pan tomime to the unseen s^nrit of wings, which flits and sings and broods in the boughs above her. ALWYN and SHY watch her, rapt and expectant. Suddenly a sharp gun-shot sounds, shivering the music, which ceases. Through the boughs, a bird falls flutter ing to the earth.] [30] VI ORXIS. ALWYX. SHY. [With a gesture of startled wildncss, TACITA breaks abruptly from, her rhythmic motions, and flees into the wood, while simultaneously from the other side there enters, swift but stag gering, ORXIS a maiden, garbed sym bolically as a bird. On one of her wing- like sleeves blood shows. With shrill, melodious cry, she flutters forward. ORXIS IE-O-LEE! O-ree-o! Sanc tuary ! [Swaying, she falls to the ground. ALWYX and SHY spring toward her.~\ ALWYX Help, Shy! She falls! SHY [At ORXIS side. ] Wing-struck ! Here s blood. [31] SANCTUARY ALWYN That shot? SHY The gun of Stark. [Seeking to lift her.~\ Up, birdling! Here is Shy. ORNIS [Droops, moaning. ] O-ree-o ! SHY Quick! Bring Quercus. ALWYN [Hastening off] In a jot. SHY [Soothingly strokes ORNIS arm and shoul der.] So so! Dew water soon makes well. So so! ORNIS [Moans dazedly] Ir-re-o! P tee! SANCTUARY QUERCUS [R centering with ALAVYN.] Here, master! SHY [Pointing.} Water! There! ALWYN The bird bath! QUERCUS [Dipping his plant pitcher, hastens with it to SHY.] Coming! SHY Sprinkle. QUERCUS [Sprinkling water upon ORNIS, sings jjaily]. O-ree-o! When shawes ben sheen and shraddes full fair, And leaves both large and long, Tis merry walking in the fair forest To hear the small birds song! [ORNIS revives^} [33] SANCTUARY SHY [Assisting her. } Now, gently! ALWYN [Bending over her, calls low.} Ornis ! Sister ! ORNIS Who calls? Where Ami? ALWYN In sanctuary. Have no fear. ORNIS [Looking from one to the other.} Ah, me! But what are these? SHY Your brothers, dear. ORNIS My brothers they are birds. But you are Man, ALWYN Through Tacita you know us now; we can Speak to each other. Ornis! Hark. [34] SANCTUARY ORNIS [Rising in glad wonder.] At last! At last! ALWYN A thousand ages they are past, And dumbness, like a dream, Sinks with them into sleep. We are awake, And each to each Can bid good-morning in our common speech. ORNIS How sweet and strange! Are we indeed awaking From callous slumber and old wrong? So sorrowfully long The hand of Man has wrought my birds heartbreaking ! Was it a savage dream? Methought I sat on Morning s golden beam And sang of God s wild gladness: High and higher I showered His temple woods with ecstasy; When suddenly [35] SANCTUARY The earth screamed thunder, and a singeing fire Shattered my wing. I fell. Groping in flight, my feet stuek fast In smear of lime; swift from below A tangling net was cast Where, panting upward, a black hell Of bloody mouths barked under me; And there beside them oh, There watched, with eyes of wanton cruelty, A man bright clothed in many-colored plumes Of my dead sisters. "Save me from their dooms," I cried, "O Sanctuary!" ALWYN And you woke With us, your brothers healed. ORNIS [With wonder. ,] Oh, have you heard What now I spoke? And can we answer truly, word for word? [Curiously.] Alwyn ! [36] SANCTUARY ALWYN You know my name ? ORNIS [Turning eagerly from one to the other. ] Shy! SHY [Smiling. ] No mistake! ORNIS Quercus ! QUERCUS [Skipping with a bow."] Your birdship s faun! ORNIS [Laughing joyously. ] Good-morning, brothers ! ALWYN When have you known us? ORNIS Many an age and long! No syllable has bubbled in your song But I have blown it first from yonder trees: SANCTUARY [To SHY.] No brooding-place of yours but I was in the breeze; [To QUERCUS.] And ever to your whistle I pipe the last note from the nearest thistle. [TACITA appears remotely.] O beautiful my brothers ! dryad dear, I thank you ! In your dawn, How brave it is to speak with Man and Faun As mates and fellows. Quick! Fetch me still others. [A crashing resounds in the thicket. TAC ITA disappears.] Who s coming now? SHY Still others our fellow man. ORNIS 1 hear a breaking bough. ALWYN Kind hearts and cruel are one clan. [38] SANCTUARY ORNIS Hark! Surely tis some strange distress. Come, brothers, let us look: It may be one who needs our friendliness. Come with me! ALWYN [Calling off scene.] Stand there! Stay beyond the brook. QUERCUS [With excited gestures.] Back, ho! ORNIS [Suddenly recoiling with a cry] Ah, save me! [She flies to their protection. QUERCUS also scampers back fearfully, and hides] [39] VII STARK. ORNIS. ALWYN. SHY. [Enter STARK, in garb of a hunter. He wears a tawny leopard s skin, and his head is gorgeously plumed. Behind him, two panting dogs are held in leash by attendants. STARK rushes toward ORNIS, passes her oblivious, and seizes up the fallen bird.~\ STARK AGGED! Hold off the dogs! [The ATTENDANTS withdraw with the hounds.] ORNIS [As STARK grasps the bird, clutches her own side in pain.~\ Ee-6-lo! STARK A rare beauty! Bah, one wing Shot-torn ! Well, well, we ll patch the thing. [40] I 1 Sir Here is No Hunting SANCTUARY STARK Why, man, I am no hunter, and that s flat. I only plume myself to trim a hat. Besides, I shot outside your pale ; And now [Touching his pouch, lie winks. ] the game is bagged. SHY You bag the spangle And lose the spirit. Sir, here is no place To preach or wrangle Our creeds. I am a student, not a teacher. So I would only learn of you: what joy Urges you to destroy So gracious, fair And innocent a fellow-creature As yonder? [He points at ORNIS.] STARK [Looking. ] Where ? [42] SANCTUARY ALWYN Our sister, who stands there And dumbly pleads for all her race And ours. STARK By Christ in Hades, My eyes see nothing but a brace Of popinjays, who pipe to me of ladies And show me no one. ALWYN Look more near. Speak to him, Ornisf Listen, now! O-ree-o! ORNIS [Drawing back in dread. } STARK I am listening. [43] No voice? SANCTUARY ALWYN Did you hear STARK I heard a bird call from that bough. QUERCUS [Peeping toward SHY from the bushes.] Have at him, master! SHY [To STARK.] Did you spy That fellow s horns there, when he drew back Into the bush? STARK I saw A stirring in that staghorn sumach, And caught a rabbit s eye. What are these crazy quizzings ? Pshaw ! Good day to you! [44] SANCTUARY ALWYN Stay yet! Once more look yonder, where my comrade stands, Turning to take the gentle, outreached hands Of our shy sister: Can you see No timid form beside him? STARK Perfectly My eyes discern A man, who peers within the morning mist, And murmurs to the air, And smiles, as if he held sweet converse there. In short, I see a sentimentalist. I am not of that ilk. [Calling] Ho, there! Hola! Wait with my dogs: I m coming. ALWYN Stay, and learn What we ourselves have only learned through quiet [45] SANCTUARY Listening. So long, in rampant haste, Your dizzy soul has chased The spinning dollar sign which stars your zodiac, That you have lost the track Of paths serene, and pace God s world in riot Of blinding gold. Pause, for this little space ! Put off that blood-emblazed regalia Gorgeous with death, And draw with me one meditative breath Here in the temple of cool Tacita. STARK [Who has listened with half-amused curi osity.] Ah Tacita? And who may that be, friend ? ALWYN One lovelier than you have yet set eyes on. SHY Go, Quercus : Pray our mistress to attend. [QUERCUS goes out.] [46] SANCTUARY STARK Mistress! Is she a maid? and lovely, too? And may this wonder dawn on my horizon If I remain? ALWYN Remain to meditate! STARK Why, now, you stir my fancies. In truth, tis early still, and little to do This hour. Come, I will wait And watch with you. But mind! The nymph must be More lovely than my eyes did ever see! ALWYX With loveliness more deep than eyes dis cover. STARK So, tis a bargain, then? ALWYN Sit by me here; And if your musings cause no fear, You shall behold her in her secret dances. [47] S A N C T U A 11 Y STARK By Hercules! I m half prepared to love her! [He sits on the log beside ALWYN. OR- xis still stands apart, under SHY S pro tection. QUERCTJS enters, beckoning backward into the wood.~\ [48] VIII TACITA. ALWYN. ORNIS. STARK. (SHY. QUERCUS.) ALWYN Now, Tacita, shy pagan nymph, appear! [TACITA enters from her shrine of green ery, and pauses before them.] Spirit, unblind this man! Delusions blur Inward his sight. He is a murderer, Yet knows not he is such. Unseal The fountains of his vision, and reveal Yonder the sister spirit, whom so long His blind heart strove to wrong Ornis : Reveal, and let him speak with her ! [Soft music sounds, various and elusive [49] SANCTUARY in its rhythmic themes. TACITA ap proaches STARK, and weaves about him a dance of revelation, lulling, charming, luring him by the appeal of numberless wing -sway ings and bird- darlings, for which the music suggests the song -notes. During her dance, STARK rises, bewil dered, and is gradually lured and led by her toward ORNIS, before whom at the consummation of the dance lie stands, staring.^ STARK [Rising, speaks to the music. ] twilight holy dusk dawn twitterings! How far, how dim and hollow You darkle over me : Wings, wings! swift wings, shy wings, eter nal wings! Where shall I follow? Ah, joy jubilant melody And morning ! Joy I follow ! 1 dream, and drink from your immortal springs ! [TACITA disappears. STARK beholds ORXIS.] [50] IX STARK. ORNIS. (ALAYYN. QUERCUS. SHY.) STARK HAT are you? ORNIS [Appealing with half-fearful affection. ] Brother ! brother ! STARK [With sudden cry and ges tured] Ha, my net ! The shy bird shall be captured live! [From his shoulder he looses the net, and flings it over ORNIS, seizing the meshes.] Now, Joy, I hold you fast! ORNIS [Struggling.] Ee-6-lee-o! [51] SANCTUARY SHY [Extricating li er. ] Xot yet! ALWYN [Seizing STARK.] Untamed, and still unshamed! Will you destroy The wings that raise you? Sister, speak to him! ORNIS My brothers all of you ! Oh, wage not war Because of me. I fear not. Stark, you dim The brightness of our union, greeting so Your sister. STARK [Dropping Ms net. } Sister? ORNIS Hunt no more With lime and net: Your love shall hold me faster; For I am Ornis. [52] S A N C T U A R Y STARK [Fascinated. ] Ornis ! ORNIS Dear my master! Do you not know me? I am she Whom first, beneath the dark, ancestral tree, You rose upon your feet to hearken to. By me you grew To song and freedom. Round your olden feasts You watched my circling flights, whereby your priests Proclaimed their omens and their oracles; My cranes announced your victories, my storks Fed your hearth-fires, my silver-throated gulls And golden hawks Saved many your sea-towns from sore pesti lence ; And my sweet night bird tuned your poets shells To lull sad lovers in languorous asphodels; [53] SANCTUARY Yet all my influence Shone dimmer than my beauty: my bright plumes Lured you to squander them, till, in the fumes Of greed, your heart forgot to cherish me, And sold me unto death and slavery. Yet, master, as you will: Lo, I am Ornis, and I love you still! STARK [With altered tone of yearning^} Yet yet it seems I never heard your voice Till now; nor ever understood Till now; nor paused, as now in this still wood, To tremble and rejoice At greeting you, my sister. I am stunned, And wait to comprehend this wonder. ORNIS Ah, You never prayed before to Tacita ! Your feet have shunned Her gracious paths, yet only she Can lead and show my brother Man to me. Lo, I am Ornis, and I love you still! " SANCTUARY STARK [Glancing at his gun.~\ Why, then, why have I brought this instru ment Of murder here? What black intent Clouded my mind with blood? [Flinging it from him.~\ Out of my hands ! My sister, can it be That still you soar above my sanguine flood Of passion, and forgive? Though yet I kill, Oh, is it true indeed you love me still? ORNI8 Ha, put me to the test! Show me the field that breeds your harvest pest Of chinch or weevil, Where all the blossoms wither with strange evil, Or where, in filmy tents, The hairy creepers gorge in regiments Your budding apple boughs; Show your ancestral elms [55] SANCTUARY Gaunt limbed with leprosy, which over whelms Their green old age in death; Or those swift locust clouds, whose breath Blasts the ripe loveliness of Spring; Show these, and more Than these, and cry on Ornis! She shall bring From hill and shore And plain her winged flocks and warbling broods, And swinge away their deadly multitudes. If service be true love, I love you, brother. ALWYN [Drawing near.] And for her sake, so we will love each other. [He takes STARR S right hand.] SHY [Taking his left] A greenwood partnership! STARK [Pressing their hands. } Thanks! [56] S A N C T U A R Y SHY [Whispering to the faun] Quercus, run! QUERCUS I skip, I gambol, master. Ha! I have a tale to tell to Tacita! [He leaps away.] ORNIS [As STARK tears off his headdress of plumes] And those ? STARK For these my heart shall build a fire Here at this shrine: [He hangs the headdress on a tree] And here, as on a pyre, I place them, with this pouch, which hides The victims of my blind desire. There, at sad cost, I let them tell my pain the votive part Of one long lost, [57] SANCTUARY Who now has found himself in nature s heart. Ornis, my trail divides: There lie the ashes of the thing I was. Henceforth, I walk with you [Turning to ALWYN and SHY.] and these. ALWYN A compact, then, we three : that when we go Forth from these gracious trees Into the world, we go as witnesses Before the men who make our country s laws, And hy our witness show In burning words The meaning of these sylvan mysteries: Freedom and sanctuary for the birds! Say, is our compact sworn? STARK I swear. SHY And I. [Enter QUERCUS and TACITA.] [58] X TACITA. QUERCUS. STARK. ORNIS. SHY. ALWYN. STARK [To ORNIS.] OOK, sister: friends are com ing. Now lead us to their shrine close by. ORNIS I Oh, first let all make joy of ..ml*; this our union! For now my glad heart, like a partridge drumming, Calls for my mates to join us, all together, In frolicsome communion. Ho, Quercus, Quercus, call them! Tacita, Summon them with your fairy feet! QUERCUS [Bounding forward.] Hola! [59] SANCTUARY ALWYN [Taking from his pouch QUERCUS pipe.] Call loud and long! Here s our old pipe, to carry a new song. [ALWYN puts the pipe to his lips, while QUERCUS sings to it, calling to the birds. At the end, QUERCUS begs in panto mime for the pipe which ALWYN, smil ing, restores to him.~\ QUERCUS Come here, come here, you little comrades coy, From hill and swamp and heather : Make joy, make joy Together! Tawny beak and scarlet vest, Slant wing and sleek feather, Bulging bill and cocking crest, Hither! Tumble out of nest, Topple out of windy weather Here, hola! With preenings quaint, Purple dyes and crimson paint, Here, hola, in merry state ! [60] SANCTUARY Up from dew-grass, down from aerie, Tacita Tacita Summons you to dedicate Here her sanctuary! [While QUERCUS calls, from all sides Birds of many species and colors like ORNIS human in form gather, and peer from the edges of the scene. To these TACITA now beckons, and by her gesture summons to her dance, while QUERCUS plays joyously on his pipe.~\ ORNIS Bird and faun and man and fairy, Gather now to sanctuary! [TACITA first dances alone, then with QUERCUS; then, inviting and leading them all in pied procession, she mar shals all away into her woodland shrine. ] FINIS [61] AFTERWORD AFTERWORD In the original production of this masque, referred to in the Foreword, the sanctuary stage was devised by MR. JOSEPH LINDON SMITH in two planes the natural and the supernatural, harmoniously blended. The natural plane, in the foreground, was a leaf-strewn plot of earth ; the supernatural, in the background, was a constructed stage some eighteen inches higher, sloping slightly upward toward the back, covered with smooth canvas, practical for dancing, so painted as to suggest a weathered outcrop ping of rock, overgrown in places by moss and greensward. This constructed stage was divided from the foreground earth by the trunk of a felled maple tree, straight in line and inconspicu ous in color. In front of this dividing line, SHY and AIAVYN remained always in the natural plane ; behind it, ORXIS and TACITA remained always in the supernatural. Their scenes [65] SANCTUARY together were enacted near or beside the fallen tree trunk. In the scene of his conversion, STARK was lured into the higher plane by TACITA ; while QUERCUS alone among the characters skipped back and forth from one plane to the other. As audience, the non-participating spec tators sat in dominoes of brown, flanked on either side by the bird-participants in their pied bird costumes. These latter watched the performance until, at the finale, they were summoned by QUERCUS upon the con structed stage. There, when all had been marshalled, en tered the CARDINAL BIRD [enacted by MR. HERBERT ADAMS, the sculptor], accom panied by two small scarlet-tanager aco lytes [boys], bearing great candles, to light a crimson cushion held by the Cardinal. On the cushion lay an open scroll. This scroll, itself a sheet of parchment- like paper from the original press of Benja min Franklin, had been inscribed by MR. STEPHEN PARRISH with a Sonnet-Epilogue, [66] Cardinal Bird and Hummingbird SANCTUARY composed by the author of the masque and signed by all of its participants, with their real names opposite the species of birds they severally impersonated. Moving slowly forward to music till he stood before PRESIDENT and MRS. WILSO X, where they sat near the centre of the first row of the audience, the CARDINAL BIRD, with simple dignity, read from the scroll this EPILOGUE Addressed to MRS. WOODROW WILSON: Lady, WHEREAS your gentle patronage And presence have to-night so favored us In this our ritual, that you have thus Lent to our earnest cause a double gage: One gracious daughter to make glad our stage And one to make its theme harmonious With song whose sire now makes illustrious The larger theatre of our living age: THEREFORE, ere yet the privilege be spent Which grants our thoughts the spell of hu man words, [67] SANCTUARY We vow by you, here in this tranquil wood, Our loyal love to him the President, Whose heart has heard the call of the wild birds, And sign ourselves Your Servants, with gratitude. Having thus presented the scroll, the CARDINAL BIRD with his ACOLYTES retired to the stage, where the final dance and proces sion of the bird-participants then took place. The Programme of the performance [omitting that part of the Prelude already printed on pages xix and xx] was as follows: UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF MRS. WOODROW WILSON AND THE FOLLOWING COMMITTEE MRS. HERBERT ADAMS MAXFIELD PARRISH MRS. C. C. BEAMAN CHARLES A. PLATT ERNEST HAROLD BAYNES MRS. GEORGE RUBLEE KENYON COX LOUIS EVAN SHIPMAN PERCY MACKAYE JOSEPH LINDON SMITH MRS. AUGUSTUS SAINT-GAUDENS MEMBERS OF THE MERIDEN BIRD CLUB JOIN WITH RESI DENTS OF CORNISH, NEW HAMPSHIRE, AND THEIR FRIENDS,, TO PRESENT A MASQUE IN THE INTEREST OF AMERICAN WILD BIRD PROTECTION [68] SANCTUARY PRELUDE SONG "THE HERMIT THRUSH" SUNG BY MISS MARGARET WILSON THE SONG COMPOSED BY FREDERICK S. CONVERSE TO WORDS BY ARVIA MACKAYE, WHO ENACTS THE PART OF THE LITTLE GIRL MERIDEN, NEW HAMPSHIRE: SEPTEMBER 12, 1913 SANCTUARY A BIRD MASQUE BY PERCY MACKAYE PERFORMED UNDER THE FOLLOWING DIRECTION STAGE PRODUCTION BY JOSEPH LINDON SMITH DANCING BY JULIET BARRETT RUBLEE ORIGINAL MUSIC BY FREDERICK S. CONVERSE PROPERTIES BY WILLIAM HOWARD HART PROGRAMME DESIGN BY KENYON COX PERSONS IN THE MASQUE IN THE ORDER OF THEIR APPEARANCE QUERCUS FAUN JOSEPH LINDON SMITH ALWYN POET PERCY MACKAYE SHY NATURALIST ERNEST HAROLD BAYNES TACITA DRYAD JULIET BARRETT RUBLEE ORNIS BIRD SPIRIT ELEANOR WILSON STARK PLUME HUNTER WITTER BYNNER ATTENDANT LEONARD COX [69] SANCTUARY EPILOGUE THE CARDINAL BIRD FIRST ACOLYTE SECOND ACOLYTE HERBERT ADAMS ROBIN MACKAYE PAUL SAINT-GAUDENS BIRD PARTICIPANTS IN PANTOMIME BLUEBIRD CARDINAL GROSBEAK OWL BALTIMORE ORIOLE OWL RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD GOLDFINCH DOWNY WOODPECKER DOWNY WOODPECKER DOWNY WOODPECKER GOLDFINCH BLUE JAY BLUE JAY KINGBIRD CROW FLICKER SCARLET TANAGER BLUEBIRD HOUSE WREN RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET OWL SCARLET TANAGER GOLDFINCH RUBY-CROWNED KINGLET WOOD THRUSH EVENING GROSBEAK HAWK KINGBIRD KINGBIRD BLUEBIRD YELLOW WARBLER YELLOW WARBLER BLUEBIRD SNOW BUNTING SWALLOW HUMMINGBIRD MRS. HERBERT ADAMS MR. HERBERT ADAMS MISS CHARLOTTE ARNOLD MISS FRANCES ARNOLD MISS GRACE ARNOLD MR. LEROY BARNETT MISS BIGELOW MRS. ERNEST HAROLD BAYNE3 MRS. EDSON BEMIS MR. EDSON BEMIS MR. JOHN FARNUM CANN MISS LOUISE CONVERSE MISS VIRGINIA CONVERSE MRS. KENYON COX MR. KENYON COX MISS CAROLINE COX MR. ALLYN COX MISS ANNIE H. DUNCAN MISS ELIZABETH EVARTS MR. PRE SCOTT EVARTS MR. ELWIN FEY MR. CHARLES FULLER MRS. CONGER GOODYEAR MISS LENA HARDY MISS RUTH HALL MR. WILLIAM HOWARD HART MR. GRISWOLD HAYWOOD MISS KING MISS CLARA KING MRS. HERBERT LAKIN MISS ELEANOR LAKIN MISS HETTY LAKIN MISS BELLE LAVERACK MRS. PERCY MACKAYE MISS HAZEL MACKAYE MISS ARVIA MACKAYE [70] SANCTUARY PARTICIPANTS IN PANTOMIME [CONTINUED] SCARLET TANAGER MASTER ROBIN MACK AYE GOLDFINCH MISS ALICE McCLARY BLUEBIRD MISS ANNE PARRISH CARDINAL BIRD MR. STEPHEN PARRISH RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD MISS MARIE PARKER HERMIT THRUSH MRS. MAXWELL PERKINS GOLDFINCH MR. ROGER PLATT SCARLET TANAGER MR. WILLIAM PLATT RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD MISS EDNA RAPALLO GOLDFINCH MISS HADLEY RICHARDSON BLUE HERON MR. GEORGE RUBLEE LOVE BIRD MRS. LOUIS SAINT-GAUDENS SCARLET TANAGER MR. PAUL SAINT-GAUDENS WOOD THRUSH MISS SCUDDEB BLUEBIRD MISS ELLEN SHIPMAN INDIGO BUNTING MASTER EVAN SHIPMAN WOODPECKER MISS FRANCES SMITH WOODPECKER MISS REBECCA SMITH BALTIMORE ORIOLE MISS CORDELIA TOWNSEND OFFICERS OF THE MERIDEN BIRD CLUB PRESIDENT, DR. ERNEST L. HUSE VICE PRESIDENTS MRS. E. E. WHEELER PROF. FRANK M. HOWE MR. NEIL CRONIN PROF. CHESTER H. SEARS SECRETARY, MR. JOHN FARNUM CANN TREASURER, MR. ERNEST HAROLD BAYNES GENERAL MANAGER, MISS MARY L. CHELLIS MASQUE COMMITTEE FOR THE MERIDEN BIRD CLUB MR. ROBERT BARRETT MISS MARY A. FREEMAN MRS. ERNEST HAROLD BAYNES MR. ALBION E. LANG MR. JOHN FARNUM CANN MR. CHARLES ALDEN TRACY MISS ANNIE H. DUNCAN MRS. E. E. WHEELER COSTUMES MRS. HERBERT ADAMS MISS ELLEN SHIPMAN MR. JOSEPH LINDON SMITH PHOTOGRAPHS, DR. ARNOLD GENTHE BIRD-NOTES, MISS KATHERINE MINAHAN INVITATIONS, MISS ANNIE H. DUNCAN AUTOMOBILES, MR. GRISWOLD HAYWOOD STAGING AND SKATS MR. WILLIAM HOWARD HART MR. JOHN FARNUM CANN [71] I NIVEKSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY THIS LOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW GCI 19 1914 MAY 17 80 SEP211982 SEP 1 3 2000 24 14T9B2 30m-6, 14 eKc a TTOC ne " . -- 287948 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY lllllll