Six One-Act Plays

American Dramatists Series

SIX
ONE-ACT PLAYS

The Hand of the Prophet—Children
of Granada—The Turtle Dove—This
Youth-Gentlemen—The Striker—
Murdering Selina

MARGARET SCOTT OLIVER

BOSTON: RICHARD G. BADGER
TORONTO: THE COPP CLARK CO., LIMITED

Copyright, 1916, by Margaret Scott Oliver

All Rights Reserved

These plays in their printed form are intended for the reading public only. All dramatic rights are fully protected by copyright, and any performance—professional or otherwise—may be given only with the written permission of the author.

MADE IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A.

To

L. S. O.

CONTENTS

THE HAND OF THE PROPHET

An Arabian Episode

Cast

Scene—A room in the home of Halima.

The Hand of the Prophet

From between the parted curtains two desert men in white costumes, with red sashes and turbans appear. They wear scimiters in their sashes, and are smoking very long cigarettes. They bow to one another, and walk to the two sides of the stage, where they remain until first curtain, then go behind. This is repeated before and after each part of the play.

Scene—A room in the home of Halima. Music and laughter are heard, and as the curtain is drawn, a slave girl is seen finishing a wild dance. As she sinks exhausted to the floor there are applause and sounds of approval, in which the merchant Kodama leads. He is seated beside his bride, Halima, on a dais. In the room are slaves, attendants and members of the two families. The wedding celebration is in progress, and all are in festal mood and dress. Rose petals are strewn on the floor, platters heaped with fruits are at the front and side of the stage, and incense is burning in two braziers.

Kodama—Thy slave dances with the grace of a startled gazelle. Command her again before night comes. I am pleased with her!

Halima—I am glad she is fair in thine eyes, my husband. She knows many magic dances that will delight thee.... But the wedding feast has continued four days, my lord, and thy kinsman from the desert not appeared.

Kodama—Four days more shall the feasting last. There is yet time.

Halima—I am eager for the jewels, and cloths of gold he was to bring. Thou didst promise my father—

Kodama—Enough, enough! Art thou a child that patience is not in thee? Before the feast has ended he will come. I weary of these murmurings.

Halima—(Claps hands.) Music for my lord.

(Slave sings. As the song ends a slave appears before Kodama.)

Slave to Kodama—The young Sheykh Sindibad is here.

(Sindibad appears L. with some men from his caravan, and a young slave, who is carrying three bundles tied in silken cloths. He walks airily to the dais.)

Kodama—Sindibad!

(Sindibad and Kodama embrace. Halima, with a coquettish gesture, puts her veil before her face.)

Sindibad—Let forgiveness for my tardiness be granted, cousin, when thou seest what I have brought. Many treasures have I found thy lady, before whom I prostrate myself.

(Sindibad kneels and kisses Halima's hand and then his own. His slave boy quickly opens the bundles, and the contents are eagerly examined.)

Kodama—I had thought to see thee sooner; the wedding is four days old.

Sindibad—I had thought to come sooner, but there was a maiden.... Never have I seen such stars as were her eyes, and her lips, the blood of pomegranate.

Kodama—Thou wast ever led easily by starry eyes.

Halima—(Holding out scarf.) See, it is a wondrous cloth, with threads of gold and silver.

Sindibad—Thy loveliness will enhance its beauties a thousand times.

Halima—My loveliness did not tempt thee to hasten.

Sindibad—I have never seen thy face, and there was a maiden....

Kodama—There was a maiden. Have done with thy raving! (To Halima.) Let thy slave dance!

Halima—Dance!

(As the slave dances, all watch eagerly save Sindibad, who gazes at Halima.)

Sindibad—Thy voice is soothing as the sound of water in the heart of the desert. Let me see thy face.

Halima—Look at these fabrics rather.

Sindibad—Nay, but an instant, while they watch the dancer, unveil, and let me see thy face.

Halima—I may not.

Sindibad—It is not forbidden. I am thy husband's kinsman. Let me see thy face!

(Halima drops veil. Sindibad prostrates himself.)

Sindibad—I am thy slave forever, oh fairer than the day at dawn.

Halima—Arise! they will see thee!

Sindibad—And thou hast married the merchant Kodama! Awah! Awah!

Halima—Arise! Arise!

Kodama—Why cryest thou awah? This is not a time for wailing. Dost lament for the maiden of the desert?

Sindibad—Her image has changed ... as sand upon the desert's face.

(CURTAIN)

Scene—The same. Kodama and Halima are seated on the dais as before. Two slave girls are in the room. Kodama's slave enters C. and stands before Kodama.

Slave to Kodama—The merchant from Baghdad awaits. Shall I bring him to have audience here?

Kodama—I will speak with him in the myrtle court. Keep watch over my wife and the women. (Exit C.)

(Sindibad enters L. as a slave comes from R. The slave is carrying coffee, and reaches Halima as Sindibad approaches.)

Sindibad—I drink to thine amber eyes.

Halima—Thou must not.

Sindibad—Send thy women away.

Halima—I dare not.

Sindibad—Send thy women away! I have words they must not hear.

Halima—(To attendants.) Go!

(Kodama's slave stands motionless.)

Sindibad—(To Slave.) I am cousin to thy master. Go with the women.

(Slave goes slowly C. from the room. Halima has risen from the dais, and seated herself on a rug in the centre of the room. She is humming coquettishly and is admiring herself in a mirror. Sindibad watches her eagerly for an instant.)

Sindibad—My blood has changed to leaping flame.

Halima—If thou comest nearer I shall call my women back.

Sindibad—Unbind thy wondrous hair. It is a fountain of living gold.

Halima—Thou must not sit so close.

Sindibad—I love thee, and shall stay until thou sayest, "I love thee."

Halima—(Stopping her song.) I am thy kinsman's wife.

Sindibad—By Allah! Thou art no man's wife but mine!

Halima—I am but a dream. Awake, lest the Prophet smite thee!

Sindibad—Oh, beautiful dream, I am mad for thee. To-night thou shalt fly with me into the desert.

(Kodama enters C. unnoticed, and listens.)

Halima—I am thy kinsman's wife. My father gave me to him.

Sindibad—The fire of youth has gone from his blood. He is old. Thou canst not love him.

Kodama—Allah!

Halima—(Slowly.) I am his wife. (Exit R.)

(Sindibad starts to follow her, but is arrested by the sound of Kodama's entrance.)

Kodama—Alone?

Sindibad—With a dream.

Kodama—The beautiful maiden who delayed thy progress hither?

Sindibad—I tell thee I have forgotten her.

Kodama—Thy heart is fickle surely.

Sindibad—I have seen one more beautiful.

Kodama—The dancing slave?

Sindibad—Yea ... even the dancing slave.

Kodama—Thou shalt have her. She is like the little moon when it first peeps above the date palms. Thou shalt have her.

Sindibad—Thy wife is young.... I will not have the dancing slave.

Kodama—How now!

Sindibad—Thy wife is young. Her skin is of pearl, her eyes twin amber pools where men may—oh fool, oh blind, thy wife is young and beautiful. Canst thou not see?

Kodama—It is written: The blind man avoids the ditch into which the clear-sighted falls.

Sindibad—Thy heart is a dried grape. Thy wife is—

Kodama—My wife! Art thou an honest Arab that she should so dwell in thy thoughts? Take the dancing slave, and begone.

Sindibad—Thy words are crystal dewdrops quivering on a leaf.

Kodama—Thou art young—tempt me not too far.

(Slave enters immediately C. with a tray on which is wine.)

Sindibad—By the beard of the Prophet, wine! The Koran forbids it.

Kodama—It shall turn to milk in the throat of the true believer.

Sindibad—Thou hast said it.

(Kodama and Sindibad drink, and look at one another searchingly.)

Kodama—Thy black angel is ever at thy left side in the city. It will persuade thee into mighty wrong. Young cousin, it is wise that thou shouldst return to thy people. Go quickly, lest evil come. I will give thee rich presents for thy father. As for thee, choose one of the slave girls—

Sindibad—I will take with me nothing—but a dream. (Exit L.)

Kodama—Allah send him swift away.... There shall be no returning.

(CURTAIN)

Scene—The same. A slave is singing. Kodama is seated on the dais, while Halima comes in slowly and gazes anxiously at him. It is the next day.

Halima—Thy brows are still lowered. In what have I offended thee, my husband?

Kodama—Amber pools where men may—what do men find in thine eyes?

Halima—I know not, unless thou sayest.

Kodama—And thy skin is of pearl, is it not so?

Halima—Shall I send away the women, oh my lord?

Kodama—I am not loving thee. Let the women and the lights remain.

Halima—I had hoped—

Kodama—Thou hadst hoped! Am I a fledgling to faint under thy beauty?

Halima—Thou didst marry me.

Kodama—It was a wise bargain with thy father, whose hands will help carry my trade into the desert, and beyond.

Halima—I thought thy kinsman Sindibad would do that. He is a son of the desert.

Kodama—I like not my kinsman. He is a fool and a magpie.

Halima—He is young and handsome, full of fire and poetry.

Kodama—Full of deceit and treachery, with honeyed words that mean nothing. But yesterday he raved of a maiden whom he met in the desert. To-day he is mad for thy—

Halima—For my—?

Kodama—For thy dancing slave. To-morrow he will go to the desert with another nightingale piping at his elbow. He knows not constancy, but flies from one deluded maiden to another.

Halima—Surely thou wrongest him.

Kodama—I wrong him not. We shall not talk of him.... Thy shimmering hair has hidden thine ear. Let me put it back.

Halima—Oh, Kodama, thou hast never praised my hair before. See, it is a fountain of living gold!

Kodama—(Quickly.) Who told thee that?

Halima—My ... women.

Kodama—What other pretty things do they say to swell thy vanity?

Halima—They say—thou lovest me not.

Kodama—As thou art a woman, and beautiful, I love thee ... no more ... no less. Thou art a woman. I have said it!

(Kodama puts Halima from him, and leaves abruptly R. Halima for an instant puts out her hands pleadingly to Kodama's retreating back, and then with a hopeless little gesture drops her head on the cushions. One of the women picks up her lute, and sings a plaintive song. The young slave boy of Sindibad's appears L.)

Slave Boy—The young Sheykh Sindibad leaves for his father's tent in the desert, and would say farewell to his kinsman's lady.

Halima—Let him come. (To attendants.) I would be alone! (Exeunt attendants C.)

(Sindibad enters L. and looks at Halima's despairing figure for a moment.)

Sindibad—To-night I go to my people.

Halima—Allah, the compassionate, the merciful, guide thy footsteps.

Sindibad—And thou, white rose, wouldst thou be free?

Halima—Free!

Sindibad—A strong mehari is below, and my men are waiting.

Halima—I am afraid.

Sindibad—By the hand of the Prophet, it was written thou shouldst love me, and I thee.

Halima—His wrath—

Sindibad—Thou art not bound to him by any law.

Halima—He loves me not, and yet—

Sindibad—Come to the golden desert, and thou shalt learn the many ways of love.

Halima—He took me to seal a bargain with my father. But thou, thou wilt soon tire of me. He said thou lovest any woman.

Sindibad—I will not fail thee, until soul and body part.

Halima—Oh, hungry ears, be not so eager for these words of love.

Sindibad—Thy body is wonderful as a hidden river whereon the moonlight dances. Rest thou upon my beating heart, oh beloved.

Halima—All of heaven is here.

Sindibad—I drink thy lips like wine. (Kisses her. Exeunt. Stage is empty for a very short time.)

(The Slave and Kodama enter hurriedly R.)

Slave to Kodama—This way, my master, they went but a moment since, and thou canst get them ere they reach the court.

Kodama—(Drawing scimiter.) Stay! (Exit C.)

(The slave remains motionless on the stage, and there is silence. Then Kodama returns wiping his blade. He spits on the floor.)

Kodama—Allah!

(Halima enters C. She rushes to Kodama.)

Halima—Thou hast killed him!

Kodama—The babbling fool, to think he could steal thee from me.

Halima—(Whispering.) Thou hast killed him.

Kodama—Go to thy women.

Halima—Bring him back.

Kodama—Peace.

Halima—Bring him back.

Kodama—Peace, peace, I say.

Halima—Oh, Sindibad, my love.

Kodama—Love!

Halima—Thou snarling camel, hast thou lost thine ears? Age has dried thy bones, and turned thy blood to dust. I'll none of thee.

Kodama—(Claps hands. Slave appears L.) Bring him here. Go!

(Slave carries in the body of Sindibad, and puts it on the dais. Halima sinks beside it with a little cry of distress.)

Halima—He was Allah's shadow upon the earth. Thou canst buy a woman, but not hold her. Let me go with him.

Kodama—Oh, amber pools where men may find oblivion, close ... close (chokes her.)

(The body falls beside Sindibad's.)

Kodama—Allah has left no calamity more hurtful to man than woman. It was written in the stars. (To Slave.) Bring the women. Let music be played, and let there be dancing.

(Slaves and attendants enter, and there is music.)

Kodama—(To the body of Sindibad.) Dost hear the music for thy wedding feast? Thou art dead, honey babbler, and gone to the desert of forgotten desires. Thou art dead!

(Slave dances. As dance ends, Kodama's slave kneels before him.)

Slave—Master, thou hast killed a true believer.

Kodama—I have killed—

Slave—In mistake, oh master.

Kodama—And art thou a true believer?

Slave—Even as thou sayest.

Kodama—Then I make thee free that the blood-wit be paid! Go forth, thou art free! (Suddenly and hoarsely to the musicians.) Break your lutes!

(Music stops.) Let there be lamentations! This is a house of sorrow!

(CURTAIN)

CHILDREN OF GRANADA

A Spanish Play

Time—Spain during the reign of Philip III, about 1609.

Place—Courtyard of Alhambra in Granada.

Children of Granada

Scene—The back-drop shows mountains in the distance. Along the entire back of stage is a stone bench against a low wall which overlooks the Valley of the Darro River. The tops of one or two trees show above it. At right back is a little turret, with entrance toward the audience. Entrance at front right, through Moorish gateway. Entrance at left front from garden.

Don Rodriguez and Lagrimas are discovered sitting together on the bench. The soft tinkle of guitars is heard. Don Rodriguez is looking straight out towards the audience with his hands clasped. Lagrimas is gazing over the wall.

Rodriguez—I tell thee it would be the easiest thing in the world to capture Hafiz the Moor. I could creep through the Darro, for the thirsty sun swallows the little river with one gulp in summer, and it is dry as the road to Cordova. No one would see me until I reached the Mosque, where Hafiz will be at his infidel prayers. Hafiz the Moor! The greatest enemy to our King in all Spain, and I, I have found a way to capture him with a handful of men. I think my father will call me a soldier then, and thou wilt smile on my love, Lagrimas. No maiden can resist a victorious soldier.

Lagrimas—Look at the swallows building in the little turret. It must be nesting time.

Rodriguez—Lagrimas!

Lagrimas—Don Rodriguez!

Rodriguez—I have been telling thee my plans to take Hafiz the Moor, and of my love for thee, and thou answerest with some nonsense about swallows, and nesting time.

Lagrimas—I am very wise at times.

Rodriguez—Surely it's not unwise to hear of my love and bravery?

Lagrimas—I have heard thee speak much of both, Don Rodriguez.

Rodriguez—I am a fool to think I could ever win thee. Thou dost make sport of my affection, one minute cold, one minute hot. I never know how to take thee.

Lagrimas—Do not take me at all, Don Rodriguez.

(They sit silently a moment, Rodriguez in despair. At last Lagrimas peeps provokingly at him.)

Lagrimas—There is a caballero wooing his inamorata. Listen to the guitar. Music is very soothing in the cool of the evening. How rich and soft his voice is! I would find it hard to flout such a seductive lover. Dost thou not hear him?

Rodriguez—No!

Lagrimas—I can hear him plainly. What has stopped thine ears?

Rodriguez—The beating of my heart.

Lagrimas—A soldier's heart should not beat so loudly.

Rodriguez—Mine does.

Lagrimas—Poor soldier!

Rodriguez—I'll not have thy scorn.... When I'm killed by the Moriscoes, thou mayest repent thy coldness.

Lagrimas—Little soldier, thou wast to conquer the Moriscoes; and capture Hafiz, the enemy of King Philip.

Rodriguez—I shall conquer nothing. Deeds of valor are possible only because a lady smiled.

Lagrimas—I smile always when with thee.

Rodriguez—Have thy jest. Broken lives mean nothing to a coquette.

Lagrimas—Timid lovers mean less.... Why rail against fate?

(Pedro and Feliciana enter with a rush.)

Feliciana—Dance! Dance! I will dance whenever I please.

Pedro—And have the commonest fellow in the ranks praise thine alluring ankles and twinkling feet. Hast thou no modesty?

Feliciana—If my ankles were thick, and my feet clumsy, I'd be modest as a nun, and keep them chastely for thine eyes alone. Why should I hide them when they are beautiful?

Pedro—They tempt men to foolishness.

Feliciana—Foolishness is wonderful.

Pedro—Well, they are not so bewitching as I have said. I have praised them in moments of weakness, but they are only so-so.

Feliciana—Don Rodriguez, I appeal to thee! Thou givest many an admiring glance when I dance the zambra in the orange grove. Thine eyes betray thee, now say, are they but so-so? (Raises skirt.)

Rodriguez—I—well—that is—

Lagrimas—Why dost thou not answer? Feliciana's feet are small, but not invisible. Look at them, and pronounce judgment.

Rodriguez—I grieve for thee, Pedro. They will often dance on thy heart, I fear, but in all truth and honesty, they are not so-so.

Feliciana—Brave Don Rodriguez! I shall dance for thee to pay for thy gallant approval.

(Feliciana dances with castanets, while the others keep time with hands. Before the dance has finished, General Don Fernando comes upon the scene, and surveys it with much displeasure.)

General—Is it in this fashion the soldiers of Philip protect their country?

Pedro—One must relax sometime, General.

Feliciana—Caramba! Am I a relaxation? I thought thou didst take love more seriously, Lieut. Pedro. Seek new amusements for thine idle hours.

(Exit Feliciana—Pedro runs after her.)

Pedro—Feliciana, I swear by the stars—

(Exit. Pause.)

General—Does my son court shame behind my back?

Rodriguez—I love Lagrimas, I have asked her to be my wife.

General—Thou hast asked her?

Rodriguez—I offer my hand, where I have given my heart.

General—Dost thou not owe me the courtesy of knowledge? Am I to stumble on thy secret like any outsider?

Rodriguez—I would have told thee to-day.

General—To-day is too late. Thou hast not my permission to marry.

Rodriguez—I am old enough to know when, and whom I shall marry.

General—And if the door of my home is closed to thee?

Rodriguez—If Lagrimas will marry me, I shall make a home of my own.

General—Fool! If she will marry thee? Dost think she will allow thee to slip through her fingers?

Lagrimas—I shall marry no son of thine, General Don Fernando de Lerma.

(Exit Lagrimas.)

Rodriguez—Lagrimas!

General—The daughter of a bull-fighter!

Rodriguez—My grandfather fought the bulls.

General—Thy grandfather! The most gallant gentleman of the Spanish court, who rode into the arena on his own steed, and defied the bull in the name of his lady love. To-day her father prods a sorry hack to its death, and fights ... for a handful of silver!

Rodriguez—She is poor, I grant, but no word of scandal has ever tarnished her name. Why dost thou oppose?

General—Canst thou blot out thy life, and the traditions of thy race? Wilt thou not sicken of this girl's people?

Rodriguez—I marry Lagrimas, not her family.

General—Oh, blindness of youth!

Rodriguez—I have heard thee say Spain must look to the people for her salvation.

General—Spain must look to her soldiers. Infidels are in the realm. Help the King crush them out. Fight, fight and put love aside.

Rodriguez—I may fight, but I will not give up Lagrimas.

General—Thou must decide.

Rodriguez—I have decided.

General—If thou goest from me to-day, thou goest forever.

Rodriguez—I am a man.

General—When thou tirest of her, do not beat on my door. Lock thy bitterness in thine own breast, for mine will none of thee. (Exit.)

(Rodriguez walks up and down.)

Rodriguez—He is hard, he is unjust. But I have defied him ... I have defied him.

(Lagrimas enters and goes to the bench against the wall.)

Lagrimas—I left my fan.

Rodriguez—Thy fan?

Lagrimas—It is enough, Don Rodriguez. (Starts to go.)

Rodriguez—Hast found it?