Caliban by the Yellow Sands: A Community Masque of the Art of the Theatre
ACT III
[_At the conclusion now of the English Interlude, out of the shadow a roseate glow suffuses the cell of Caliban, from which the green-clad Spirits of Ariel come running forth, bringing in their midst Miranda. Leading her in daisy chains, they mount with her the steps toward Prospero, singing in glad chorus_:]
THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL “_Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king; Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!_
“_The palm and may make country houses gay, Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!_
“_The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit, In every street these tunes our ears do greet: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! Spring! the sweet Spring!_”
PROSPERO [_Greeting her._] Welcome, most dear!
MIRANDA Once more you bring me home, And the gray world wears green!
THE VOICE OF CALIBAN [_Calling, beneath._] Ho, Spring-i’-the-air!
MIRANDA Hark!
[_From his cell, bare-headed, with gray cloak unbound and flapping behind, Caliban bursts forth and hastens toward them._]
CALIBAN Spring-i’-the-air! Ah, leave me not alone! Take me forth with thee, too! Not Death can hold me When thou goest forth from him.
MIRANDA It was thyself That led’st me unto him.
CALIBAN With thee—with thee Would I lie even with Death. But when thou leavest, Thy life-song prickleth his sod, and maketh my sap To leap, and lick the sun again. [_Kneeling before her._] O, whither Thou goest, let Caliban go, and wear thy cloth Whatso its colors be!
PROSPERO [_Darkly._] Keep from her, slave! Touch not her hem. Her Muses garbed thee once Gay in her colors. Thou soiled’st them with shame. Next time thou worest drab, and lured’st thy Mistress Deathward in gray. Now—now thou darest crave Once more to wear her cloth?
CALIBAN Yea, do I! See: This cloak—so I forswear it!
[_He puts off the gray cloak, tears it, and tramples upon it; then turns to Miranda._]
Give me now Thy green to wear!
PROSPERO Insolence infinite! Ariel, my staff!
MIRANDA Stay!—What to do?
PROSPERO [_About to raise the staff._] To teach This unwhipt hound—to howl.
CALIBAN [_Starting back._] Great Master!
MIRANDA Grace, Dear Father! Patience needs no quick compulsion. Thine art is wondrous patient, and this poor Slow climber needs thine art.
PROSPERO Why, once again Thou art my wiser self. [_To Caliban._] Go, lick her hand, And feed from it.
CALIBAN [_Laying his cheek on Miranda’s hand weeps, with great sobs._]
Spring—Spring-i’-the-air, thy dew Dabbleth my face. O wonder, what art thou That fillest so mine eyes with rain-shine?
MIRANDA April, Not I, can conjure spring i’ the air, and April Plies rarest art in England.—Ariel, Fetch us, from out my father’s dreamery, Nature’s spring-charm and echo of English song! [_To the Spirits of Ariel._] Our greenwood cloth! Come, busk him, merry men all: Aye, both of us!
CALIBAN [_Rapturously._] This time I will not fail thee.
MIRANDA [_To Prospero, indicating Caliban._] Have faith in this fellow-creature, and let these spirits Clothe him anew.
PROSPERO As you like it, dear, be it so!
[_The Spirits clothe Caliban and Miranda in green, while from within the Cloudy Curtains an unseen chorus sings_:]
THE CHORUS “Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird’s throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.”
ARIEL Spirits within, ho! [_The Spirits run through the curtains, at centre, and disappear within._] Prosper’s hood Broods now a dream of Arden wood, Where young Orlando, daring fight For succor of old Adam’s plight, Defies the greenwood company— But meets there with no enemy.
CALIBAN [_By the throne with Miranda and Prospero, murmurs aloud_:] No enemy!
[_As Ariel raises his staff, the Cloudy Curtains part, disclosing_
THE EIGHTH INNER SCENE
A place of dappled shine and shadow in the forest. No boughs or trees are visible, but only a luminous glade of color, where falling sunlight filters a swaying glow and gloom from high, wind-stirred branches above. On the edges of the scene, the semi-obscurity half conceals forms of the forest company [Jacques, the Duke, etc.] who, seated about their noon-time meal, sing their chorus:
THE CHORUS Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i’ the sun, Seeking the food he eats And pleased with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.
[Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn.]
ORLANDO [Fiercely.] Forbear, and eat no more!
JACQUES Why, I have eat none yet.
ORLANDO Nor shalt not, till necessity be served.
THE DUKE What would you have? Your gentleness shall force More than your force move us to gentleness.
ORLANDO I almost die for food; and let me have it.
THE DUKE Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.
ORLANDO Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you: I thought that all things had been savage here; And therefore put I on the countenance Of stern commandment. But whate’er you are That in this desert inaccessible Under the shade of melancholy boughs Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If ever you have looked on better days, If ever been where bells have knoll’d to church, If ever sat at any good man’s feast, If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear And known what ’tis to pity and be pitied, Let gentleness my strong enforcement be: In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.
THE DUKE True is it that we have seen better days, And have with holy bell been knoll’d to church, And sat at good men’s feasts, and wiped our eyes Of drops that sacred pity hath engender’d: And therefore sit you down in gentleness And take upon command what help we have That to your wanting may be minister’d.
ORLANDO Then but forbear your food a little while, Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn And give it food. There is an old poor man, Who after me hath many a weary step Limp’d in pure love: till he be first suffic’d I will not touch a bit.
THE DUKE Go find him out, And we will nothing waste till you return.
ORLANDO I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort! [Exit Orlando.]
THE DUKE Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy: This wide and universal theatre Presents more woeful pageants than the scene Wherein we play in.
JACQUES All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players!
[Re-enter Orlando with Adam, whom he helps to support.]
THE DUKE Welcome! Set down your venerable burden And let him feed.
ORLANDO I thank you most for him.
ADAM So had you need: I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.
THE DUKE
Welcome: fall to! Give us some music; sing!
[Once more, as the chorus resumes the song “Under the Greenwood Tree,”
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE
[_The music dies away within._
_With a strange, dawning reverence, Caliban turns to Miranda and speaks_:]
CALIBAN “I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.”— Like him there you have furnish’d me food of pity And a new world with _no enemy_!
MIRANDA You have none, Save the blind storms of your own nature.
CALIBAN Those Tempests are still now.
PROSPERO [_Approaching._] So mine art hath power Once more to calm? Good: now the time is ripe Methinks to rest awhile, for I am happily Weary, and will take rest from thought.—Miranda, Wilt come within? Unhood me for brief slumber, And smooth my couch?
MIRANDA [_Rising._] Right gladly.
PROSPERO [_To Ariel._] And thou, too, One moment: I’ve more for this tutelage.
[_Prospero passes off, right, by the throne exit, accompanied by Ariel. Miranda, about to follow, pauses at Caliban’s entreating voice._]
CALIBAN Stay! What your pity hath made me cries to you— Leave me not! Let me be yours!
MIRANDA [_Wonderingly._] How mean you—mine?
CALIBAN Your Caliban, your creature, your bond slave To fetch and bear for you.
MIRANDA I want no bonds ’Twixt me and any friend. Nay, we are friends And free to serve each other.
CALIBAN Yet I yearn For more: I know not what.
MIRANDA What more could be More happy?
CALIBAN Here I crawled upon my belly Brute-stuttering for you, where now I stand And pray—with Prosper’s tongue. His art hath bred Within my blood a kinship with your kindness That cries: “Miranda, thou and I are one!”— I know not how—I know not how.
MIRANDA You love me. ’Tis simple, then: I love you, Caliban.
CALIBAN [_In a splendor of amazement._] Lovest me—thou? thou!—Wilt be mine?
MIRANDA Nay, truly You know not how. Love knows not _mine_ and _thine_, But only _ours_; and all the world is ours To serve Love in. I am not _thine_, good friend.
[_She goes within._]
CALIBAN Stay yet!—She loveth me! Yet Love, she saith, Love knows not _mine_ and _thine_.
A VOICE FROM BENEATH [_Calls deeply._] She shall be thine, Caliban!
CALIBAN [_Starting._] Mine! Who saith that word?
THE VOICE She shall Be thine!
CALIBAN How mine?—Say!
THE VOICE Thou shalt fight for her.
CALIBAN [_Pointing toward the Cloudy Curtains._] Shall fight? Nay, there—the youth put by his sword, For the other said: “Your gentleness shall force More than your force move us to gentleness.”
THE VOICE Yet thou shalt fight!
CALIBAN [_Springing forward above his cell._] What art thou? [_From the mouth of the cell a flame-colored Figure strides forth and replies_:]
THE FIGURE War: thy father’s Priest.—Caliban, remember Setebos!
CALIBAN Ha, Setebos! Com’st thou once more with priest-craft To lure me back to him?—Begone!
WAR Yet not Without _me_ shalt thou win Miranda.
CALIBAN [_Fiercely._] Go!
WAR [_Returning within the cell, disappears as his voice dies away._] Remember War! Miranda shall be thine!
CALIBAN [_Hoarsely._] Miranda—mine!
ARIEL [_Comes running from the throne entrance._] Ho, pupil, now be merry! Great Prosper sleeps, and from his slumber sends thee A dream of fairy laughter.
CALIBAN [_Darkly, amazed._] Laughter!
ARIEL Aye, An English make-believe of antic elves And merry wives, to douse the lustful fire Of old John Falstaff, lured to Windsor Forest.— Our Master deems thou hast learned art enough To laugh at apings of it.
CALIBAN [_Still amazed, but curious._] Laugh?
ARIEL Aye, list!
[_Caliban stands on one side, with arms folded and listens._]
To Windsor’s magic oak now turn: There—his fatty bulk in guise Of the hornèd hunter Herne— Big Sir John in ambush lies Where the counterfeited fays Troop along the forest ways: How his lust will cease to burn For the Merry Wives—now gaze Yonder by the oak, and learn!
[_Ariel raises his staff. Parting, the Cloudy Curtains disclose_
THE NINTH INNER SCENE
The gigantic trunk of an oak rises in moonlight, surrounded by the glimmering purple of the obscure forest.
Trooping from the left, enter the disguised Fairies, following their leader Sir Hugh Evans.]
EVANS Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your parts: be pold, I pray you; follow me into the pit; and when I give the watch ’ords, do as I pid you: Come, come; trib, trib.
[They conceal themselves.
A distant chiming sounds as Falstaff enters, disguised as Herne, wearing a stag’s head with great horns.]
FALSTAFF The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me! Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa; love set on thy horns. O powerful love! That, in some respects, makes a beast a man, in some other a man a beast.
CALIBAN [_Listening intently near the edge of the scene._] A man a beast!
FALSTAFF Think on ’t, Jove: Where gods have hot backs, what shall poor men do? For me, I am here a Windsor stag; and the fattest, I think, i’ the forest. Send me a cool rut-time, Jove! Who comes here? My doe?
[Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.]
MRS. FORD Sir John! Art thou there, my deer? My male deer?
FALSTAFF My doe with the black scut! Let the sky rain potatoes, let it thunder to the tune of green sleeves; I will shelter me here.
MRS. FORD Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart.
FALSTAFF Divide me like a bribe buck, each a haunch: Am I a woodman, ha? Speak I like Herne the hunter? As I am a true spirit, welcome!
[Noise within.]
MRS. PAGE Alas, what noise?
MRS. FORD Heaven forgive our sins!
FALSTAFF What should this be?
MRS. PAGE AND MRS. FORD Away! Away! [They run off.]
FALSTAFF I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that’s in me should set hell on fire; he would never else cross me thus.
[Enter Sir Hugh Evans, disguised as before; Pistol, as Hobgoblin; Mistress Quickly, Anne Page, and others as Fairies, with tapers.]
MRS. QUICKLY Fairies, black, gray, green, and white, You moonshine revellers, and shades of night, You orphan heirs of fixed destiny, Attend your office and your quality. Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes.
PISTOL Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys!
FALSTAFF They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die: I’ll wink and couch: no man their works must eye. [He lies upon his face.]
EVANS Where’s Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid That, ere she sleeps, has thrice her prayers said, Raise up the organs of her fantasy; Sleep she as sound as careless infancy! But those as sleep and think not on their sins Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins!
CALIBAN [_Growing excitedly absorbed._] Ha, _pinch_ them, saith!
MRS. QUICKLY Away; disperse: but till ’tis one o’clock, Our dance of custom round about the oak Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.
EVANS Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set; And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be To guide our measure round about the tree. But, stay; I smell a man of middle-earth.
FALSTAFF Heaven defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!
PISTOL Vile worm, thou wast o’erlook’d even in thy birth.
MRS. QUICKLY With trial-fire touch me his finger-end: If he be chaste, the flame will back descend And turn him to no pain; but if he start, It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.
PISTOL A trial, come.
EVANS Come, will this wood take fire? [They burn him with their tapers.]
FALSTAFF Oh! Oh! Oh!
CALIBAN [_Crying out._] Ah, ah! They plague him, too!
MRS. QUICKLY Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire! About him, Fairies; sing a scornful rhyme; And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time.
ALL [As they dance about him, pinch, burn him, and sing:]
Fie on sinful fantasy! Fie on lust and luxury! Lust is but a bloody fire Kindled with unchaste desire, Fed in heart, whose flames aspire As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher. Pinch him, Fairies, mutually; Pinch him for his villany; Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, Till candles and starlight and moonshine be out!
FALSTAFF [Rising and pulling off his buck’s head, cries out:] Oh! Oh! Oh! [As he is about to flee, tormented by the dancing figures,
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE
CALIBAN [_Bursting into bitter laughter._] Ah-ha, ha! “Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!” Mocketh me, mocketh me, ah!—A man with horns And heart of monster! [_Striding fiercely toward Ariel._] He mocketh me, thy lord!
ARIEL [_Laughing silverly._] Why, ’tis but fairy sport for laughter.
CALIBAN [_With choking passion._] Laughter! Ah-ha! Me, too—me, too, thy spirits plagued And pinched, to piping jigs. [_Seizing Ariel._] I tell thee, smiling Spirit, thy laughter scorcheth me with nettles, [_Pointing toward the curtains._] And that hot bulk of lust hath made my loins To rage with boiling blood.
ARIEL [_Struggling._] Unclutch thy hand!
CALIBAN Not till I bleed that oil of laughter from thee Which lappeth me in flame.
THE VOICE OF WAR [_Calls deeply from below._] Hail, Caliban!
CALIBAN [_Pausing, releases Ariel, and listens._] Callest me, War?
THE VOICE Miranda shall be thine!
CALIBAN Mine!—Yea, now I am mocked to know myself What rutting stag I am! And her, the doe I mate, my horns shall battle for, and be Mine own—mine, mine! Miranda!
MIRANDA [_Coming from within, right, raises her hand in gentle warning._] Hush thy tone; My father slumbers yet. [_Showing Prospero’s hood, which she carries._] He hath put by This hood, wherein he sends thee here another Visioning.
CALIBAN [_Stares at her, breathing hard._] So: what now?
ARIEL [_To Miranda._] He rages, Mistress. Beware! He babbleth of War.
MIRANDA Why, then he conjures The dream my father sends: another picture, Painted in gules on England’s ancient shield: King Harry, by the high walls of Harfleur. [_To Caliban._] So you may learn, good friend, how noblest natures Are moved to tiger passions—by a painting Called Honor, dearer than their brothers’ lives.
CALIBAN Why will he show me this?
MIRANDA Perchance that you, Born of a tiger’s loins, seeing that picture, May recognize an image of yourself And so recoil to reason and to love.
CALIBAN So, mocketh me once more?
MIRANDA Nay, never that. But let us look thereon, and learn together.
CALIBAN [_Starts toward her, but curbs himself, trembling._] Together!
MIRANDA [_To Ariel._] Hold his magic hood and conjure.
ARIEL [_Taking the hood of Prospero._]
Image of Strife, may never more Your like draw near! Pageant of long-forgotten War, Appear! Harry of England, lo, is here!
[_As Ariel lifts Prospero’s hood on the staff, the Cloudy Curtains party and discover_
THE TENTH INNER SCENE
Before high mediæval walls, partly shattered, to pealing of trumpets, appear in their armor, King Henry the Fifth, and his nobles, surrounded by soldiers, with cross-bows and scaling-ladders.
Standing above on a parapet, the King is exhorting them with vehement ardor.
KING HENRY Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with the English dead! In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favor’d rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect.... Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noble English, Whose blood is fet from fathers of War-proof!... Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not.... I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot. Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry, “God for Harry, England, and Saint George!”
THE SOLDIERS [With a great shout.] Ho, God for Harry, England, and Saint George!
[As they leap forward, to the blare of trumpets, and begin to scale the ladders,
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE
[_Instantly Caliban, seizing from the staff the hood of Prospero, shakes it aloft and shouts_:]
CALIBAN Ho, God for Caliban and Setebos! War, War for Prosper’s throne! Miranda’s shrine! [_A booming detonation resounds, and a roar of voices from below._]
THE VOICES
Caliban, Caliban, hail!
[_From the throne-entrance Prospero—unhooded—hastens in, surrounded by the Spirits of Ariel, bearing long shining lances. Mounting swiftly the throne and joined by Ariel and Miranda, Prospero calls to Caliban, who—wearing his hood and lifting his staff—strides toward him._]
PROSPERO [_His unhooded features revealing their likeness to Shakespeare’s._] Who wakes my sleep With these usurping thunders?
CALIBAN War and I! Now Setebos returns, and thou art fallen!
[_A second detonation booms._
_Red glare bursts from Caliban’s cell, and War rushes forth with the Powers of Setebos, clad in his flaring habiliments, followed by the groups of Lust and Death._
_Bearing lighted torches, amid the roaring of Setebos choruses, flashing fireworks and bombs, they swarm upon the half-obscure stage._
_Led by War, the flame-colored hordes clash with the Spirits of Ariel, overcome them, and take captive Miranda, Prospero, and Ariel._
_As War holds Miranda in his power, Prospero confronts Caliban who—wearing his hood and raising his staff—exults before him_:]
Hail, Prospero! Who now is master-artist! Who wieldeth now the world?
PROSPERO Hail, Caliban! Slumb’ring, from me thou robb’st my hood and staff Which wield my power; yet not mine art they wield Without my will: my will thou canst not rob Nor ravish.
CALIBAN [_With eyes gleaming._] But Miranda!
PROSPERO Nay, nor her: For she is charmed against thy body’s rape By chastity of soul. Thy will and War May break, but cannot build the world: And One, Who bore us all within her womb, still lives To stanch our wounds with her immortal healing.
CALIBAN Where?
PROSPERO [_Pointing._] Yonder, on the Yellow Sands! She rises now And calls across the tides of fleeting change Her deathless artists of the plastic mind— My art that builds the beauty of the world.
EPILOGUE
_Where Prospero points, the light passes from the pageant of War to the centre of the Yellow Sands._
_There, in mellow splendor, a serene female Figure, rising majestic from the altar, calls to the thronging shadows._
THE SPIRIT OF TIME
Children of men, my passionate children, hark! To-day and Yesterday I am To-morrow: Out of my primal dark You dawn—my joy, my sorrow.
Lovers of life, you rapturous lovers, lo The lives you clutch are by my lightnings riven: Yea, on my flux and flow, Like sea-birds tempest-driven.
Yet from my founts of life, fecund, divine, Still dauntless lovers dare my dark tribunal, Building a common shrine To hold their love communal.
So out of War up looms unconquered Art: Blind forces rage, but masters rise to mould them. Soldiers and kings depart; Time’s artists—still behold them!
_As the Spirit of Time ceases to speak, the light passes to the entrances of the Greek ground-circle, where now—from either side—enters a Pageant of the great Theatres of the world—from the ancient Theatre of Dionysus to the Comedie Francaise—in symbolic groups, with their distinctive banners and insignia. The names of these are blazoned on their group standards, and the groups themselves [like those that follow] are announced from either end of the high balcony above the inner stage by two spirit Trumpeters, the one beneath a glowing disk of the sun, the other beneath a sickle moon._
_While these, below, have ranged themselves on the ground-circle and steps above—the groups of War, Lust, and Death have dwindled away in the background darkness—leaving only Prospero, Miranda, and Ariel, grouped in light at the centre._
_Then on either wing of the stage, at right and left, appears luminous a colossal mask—the one of Tragedy, the other of Comedy. Through the mouths of these, now come forth, in national pageant groups,[20] the creators of the art of the theatre from antiquity to the verge of the living present: the world-famed actors, dramatists, producers, musicians, directors, and inventors of its art._
_First come the great Actors, in the guise of their greatest rôles—from Thespis and Roscius of old to Irving, Salvini, Coquelin, Booth, of modern times, the comic actors tumbling forth from the Mask of Comedy, the tragic from the Tragic Mask._
_They are followed by national groups of the great Dramatists from Æschylus to Ibsen, who pass in review before Prospero._
_Among these, with the Elizabethan Dramatists, grouped with Marlowe, Green, Jonson, Beaumont, and Fletcher, and others, appears the modest figure of Shakespeare, at first unemphasized._
_For one moment, however, as Shakespeare himself approaches Prospero, he pauses, Prospero rises, and the two figures—strangely counterparts to their beholders—look in each other’s eyes: a moment only. For Prospero, slipping off his cloak, lays it on the shoulders of Shakespeare, who sits in Prospero’s place, while Prospero moves silently off with the group of Dramatists._
_Finally, when these pageants of Time have passed, and the stately Spirit of Time vanished in dark on the Yellow Sands, the only light remains on the figure of Shakespeare—and the two with him: Ariel tiptoe behind him, peering over his shoulder; Miranda beside him, leaning forward, with lips parted to speak._
_Then to these, out of the dimness, comes forth Caliban. Groping, dazed, he reaches his arms toward the dark circle, where the stately Spirit has vanished. In a voice hoarse with feeling, he speaks aloud._
CALIBAN Lady of the Yellow Sands! O Life! O Time! Thy tempest blindeth me: Thy beauty baffleth.— A little have I crawled, a little only Out of mine ancient cave. All that I build I botch; all that I do destroyeth my dream. Yet—yet I yearn to build, to be thine Artist And stablish this thine Earth among the stars— Beautiful!
[_Turning to the light, where the Three are grouped._]
—O bright Beings, help me still! More visions—visions, Master!
[_With gesture of longing, he crouches at Shakespeare’s feet, gazing up in his face, which looks on him with tenderness. With Caliban, Miranda too appeals to the Cloaked Figure._]
MIRANDA [_Wistfully._] —Master?
[_To her raised eyes, he returns a pensive smile._]
SHAKESPEARE [_As Prospero_] “Child, Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.”
[_Then, while the light focusses and fades in darkness on the pensive form of Shakespeare, the choirs of Ariel’s Spirits repeat, unseen, in song_:]
THE SPIRITS OF ARIEL “_We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep._”
FINIS
APPENDIX
CONTENTS OF APPENDIX
1. FOREWORD 2. PERSONS AND PRESENCES (OF THE TEN INNER SCENES) 3. INTERLUDES I, II, III 4. EPILOGUE 5. ANNOUNCEMENTS
FOREWORD
The actors of a Community Masque being members of the community, it becomes the function of the Masque-director to reverse the traditional order of theatrical procedure and—so far as possible—to take the public, as participants, into the confidence of “behind the scenes” beforehand.
If this were a play only [in the Broadway sense], I should gather together my staff and company for a preliminary reading, assign parts, devise plans of rehearsal, and get personally in touch with the comparatively few persons involved in its production. Being, however, a new kind of drama, involving some thousands of persons as actors, and some scores of leaders as a projected staff, it becomes practically necessary to print and publish, before production, not only the foregoing spoken and sung Masque-Proper, but the sketched-in outlines of the nonspeaking Interludes which follow.
In the nature of the case, _these outlines are preliminary and_ [_though necessarily printed here_] _are still plastic and susceptible to various modifications_. Thus publication at the moment in New York is essentially for the purpose of rendering each of the hundreds of participants more intimately familiar with his or her special relationship [as group participant or group principal] to the work as a whole.
To this is also added the need for making its text and stage-directions available to communities outside of New York, which have already expressed their desire to organize for its production after next May.
An interesting American phase of the New York production is the problem of carrying its community meaning to the still polyglot population, so that steps have been taken for the immediate translation of the Masque into Italian, German, and Yiddish.
By referring to the chart INNER STRUCTURE, the reader will see that it offers a technical solution for the participation of about a dozen national and civic groups within the time limits of the festival, without disintegrating the organic unity of the plot and action of the drama, with which the actions of the various groups are fused and synthesized. This form of technique [the result of some years of thought and experiment in this field] contributes a basis for the future development of the outdoor community art of the theatre, on a scale adapted to modern cities.
The Masque thus becomes, so to speak, a Masque of Masques. For example, the seven-minute Don Giovanni pantomime scene-plot of the Spanish and Italian Action in Interlude II [of which Mr. Ernest Peixotto is the community group-chairman] is being enlarged, under Mr. Peixotto’s direction, into the spring festival of the MacDowell Club, performed locally at its clubhouse, lasting an hour and a half, for the Prologue of which the author has written the dialogue.
So each of the other Interlude Actions, necessarily brief in time-limit, is itself a potential Masque or festival, capable of being developed locally into larger proportions. And this is being done in New York in the case of several other of the Interlude Actions.
At the present date, among those who are actively interested in the production side of the Interludes, are the Misses Lewisohn, and their associates of the Neighborhood Playhouse, for interpreting the Egyptian; Mr. Franklin Sargent of the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, in association with members of the Greek Colony, for the Greek; Mr. Arturo Giovannitti [who, as poet, is also translating the Masque into Italian] and members of the Italian colony, for the Roman; Mr. Otto J. Merkel, and members of the German University League, for the German; Mr. Charles A. Donner and members of the Alliance Francaise, for the French; Mr. Rene Wildenstein, Mr. Peixotto, and members of the Spanish-speaking community, for the Spanish-Italian; the New York Branch of the English Folk-Dance Society, under direction of Mr. Cecil Sharp, for the Interlude of Elizabethan England; the American Academy and National Institute of Arts and Letters [Chairman, Mr. William Dean Howells], for the Epilogue.
As indicated in the Inner Structure Chart, an Action of ancient India[21] was originally planned for the beginning of Interlude I. This was chiefly devised, in conference with the author and director, by the director of the community Interludes, Mr. Garnet Holme, who has brought to this New York production his very valuable experience in directing outdoor festivals in California and England. Owing, however, to brevity of time and the pressure of organization details, this Action has been omitted from the production in May.
Of the other members of the producing staff of the Interludes, Mrs. Robert Anderson contributes to her direction of the community dances her admirable knowledge of the subject, and Mrs. John W. Alexander to the Interlude costuming [in association with Mr. Urban and Mr. Jones] the excellent insight and artistry which contributed so much [with the work of her husband, the late President of the Academy] to the impressiveness of the “Joan of Arc” stadium performance at Harvard, and other productions of Maude Adams and Charles Frohman.
In the following descriptions of the Interlude Actions, the numbers of community actors are based on an arbitrary computation [at this date] of a total of 1,500, at least double which number will require to be enlisted to make sure of sufficient persons for the five New York performances. _The numbers here printed, however, are purely tentative and are subject to modification._ Of the terms used for community actors, the term _Participants_ means those who take part in the Interludes only; _Figurants_ those who also take part in groups of the Masque Proper; _Specials_ those who take part only in the special group, or groups, designated.
In the projected tour of the Masque outside of New York, a modified performance of the Masque, on a smaller scale, when acted without the Interludes, will require, in local community actors, only the _Figurants_.
It will be evident, I think, to the reader, that the organization of a community for a Masque performance on so large a scale is a special technique, only recently in process of development. As a contribution to this technique, the appended Community Organization Chart has been drawn up by my sister, Hazel MacKaye, who has brought to it her experience, of several years, in organizing and directing community pageants and masques, some of them of her own authorship.
Space and time do not permit of further comment in this Foreword on many important social relationships and reactions involved in this new community art. The accompanying photograph, however, of a Community Masque audience—150,000 citizens of Saint Louis gathered in May, 1914, to witness the Pageant and Masque of Saint Louis, in which over 7,000 of their fellow-citizens took part—may be suggestive to the imagination of the reader. On the background may be seen, at centre, the thousand-foot stage, and, at left and right, the tents of the community actors, men and women.
Space and time also do not permit of any adequate emphasis upon the enormous importance, and contribution to this growing art-form, of music in its community aspects. In this respect, the splendid pioneering work of Mr. Harry H. Barnhart in creating community choruses in Rochester and New York City is fundamentally significant. In the creative field of composition, rich in its manifold promise, Mr. Arthur Farwell, director of the New York Music School Settlement, and composer of the music of this Masque, has devoted probably more attention than any other American composer to this community type of musical art.
To the Shakespeare Celebration of New York, since its origin last year in activities of the Drama League, Miss Mary Porter Beegle, of Barnard College, has contributed her unflagging zest and enthusiasm, Mr. Howard Kyle his disinterested, manifold services, Miss Kate Oglebay her remarkable thoroughness in organizing the Supplementary Celebrations.
In his original and deeply based work of experiment, through channels of the People’s Institute and the School for Community Centre Workers, Mr. John Collier has shown fundamental leadership in a field all-important to the community purposes of this Masque: the modern economics and organization of coöperative art.
As this Foreword goes to press, Prof. Richard Ordynski has joined Mr. Urban in the work of the Masque’s New York production.
To Mr. Everard Thompson, producers and committees alike are indebted for his unfailing, friendly resourcefulness.
As references to the reader curious to study the art of the theatre in the eras touched upon in these Interludes, a lengthy Bibliography might well be submitted. For this Foreword, it may suffice to refer to three very useful works, in several volumes, viz: “The Drama,” Editor Alfred Bates, Historical Publishing Company [a dozen volumes]; “The Art of the Theatre,” Karl Manzius, Scribners, [5 volumes]; “The Theatre, Its Development in France and England, and a History of Its Greek and Latin Origins,” Charles Hastings, London, Duckworth, 1902 [and Lippincott].
The beneficial possibilities of community festival art and organization are, of course, commensurate with the time and opportunity afforded for their development. As mentioned in the Preface, the time for the New York production has, by unavoidable circumstance, become far too brief to accomplish, between the present date and the 23rd of May the deep social reactions potential in this festival. A year, instead, for the work of preparation would be none too much. It is hoped, however, that the production of this Masque may at least help to establish the festival movement in New York on a sound and perennial community basis.
PERCY MACKAYE. _New York, March 26, 1916._
PERSONS AND PRESENCES _OF THE TEN INNER SCENES_
[Enacted by the Spirits of Ariel.]
FIRST INNER SCENE SPEAKING PERSONS Antony Cleopatra Charmian Eros
PANTOMIME GROUPS Roman Soldiers Egyptian Populace Flutists Harpists Wine Bearers
SECOND INNER SCENE SPEAKING PERSONS Cressida Her Attendant Pandarus Boy Troilus
MUTE PERSONS Hecuba Helen Æneas Antenor Hector Paris Helenus
PANTOMIME GROUPS Trojan Warriors Trojan Populace
THIRD INNER SCENE SPEAKING PERSONS
Brutus Lucius, a boy Ghost of Cæsar
MUTE PRESENCES
Shapes in the Darkness
FOURTH INNER SCENE SPEAKING PERSONS Saint Agnes [An Image] A Shepherd [Impersonated by Prospero] A Shepherd Boy [Impersonated by Ariel] Other Shepherds
FIFTH INNER SCENE SPEAKING PERSONS Hamlet Horatio Marcellus
MUTE PERSONS The Ghost of Hamlet’s Father
SIXTH INNER SCENE [Derivative from Shakespeare] PANTOMIME PERSONS AND GROUPS King Henry the Eighth, of England King Francis the First, of France Their Soldiers and Followers
SEVENTH INNER SCENE SPEAKING PERSONS Benvolio Mercutio Romeo Juliet Lorenzo Florizel Perdita
MUTE PERSONS Jessica
EIGHTH INNER SCENE SPEAKING PERSONS Orlando Jacques Duke Adam
PANTOMIME GROUPS Foresters of Arden
NINTH INNER SCENE SPEAKING PERSONS Sir Hugh Evans [as Fairy] Sir John Falstaff Mistress Ford Mistress Page Mistress Quickly [as Fairy] Pistol [as Hobgoblin]
PANTOMIME GROUPS Fairies [Counterfeited by Followers of Sir Hugh]
TENTH INNER SCENE SPEAKING PERSONS AND GROUPS King Henry the Fifth His Soldiers and Followers
INTERLUDE I
_FIRST ACTION_: _EGYPTIAN_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [148] _Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS [75] FIGURANTS [73]
Osiris, the god of summer and fecundity. Worshippers of Osiris [Men and Women]. 7 Groups, each group comprising 15 Dancers [Parts & Figs.] 5 Drum-players, Followers [Parts and Figs.] 1 Priest Leader [Participant] Total Dancers 105 ” Drum-players 35 --- 140 ” Leaders 7 --- 147 Osiris 1 --- 148
THEME
Egyptian Worshippers of the god Osiris, B. C. 1000, celebrate his resurrection from death by a dramatic ritual, symbolizing how the seven portions of his rended body unite again at his rebirth.
ACTION
At the deep pealing of gongs, from each of the three entrances to the ground-circle, two diverging Processions issue forth, a seventh issuing from the cell of Caliban. All are dressed in robes and concealing masks of black.
Slowly, to the rhythmic beat of Egyptian drums [borne by the last five in each procession], by seven separate routes, they move out upon the Yellow Sands, and so converge toward the altar at the centre.
Within about a rod of the altar they pause, while their seven Priest-Leaders move forward—each bearing a fire urn—to the altar, on which an immense circular disk lies. On the disk, a prone Shape lies concealed beneath a black cloth.
Bowing before the altar, the seven Priests then rise and, mounting the steps, extend their arms to touch the rim of the disk. Thus—their black masks turned skyward—they raise their shrill voices in a mournful Egyptian chant.
Moving then backward to the ground, they drop incense within their seven urns, from which rise seven pillars of smoke, lighted by the glow of fire beneath.
In this increasing glow, the black Shape on the disk stirs, slowly rises beneath its dark cloth, and extends upward its hidden arms. During this, the drums beat from a low muffled cadence increasingly to a loud rolling rhythm, to which now—at a shrill choral cry from all the worshippers—the black cloth on the central Shape sloughs to its feet, revealing—in a burst of radiant splendor—the flame-bright form of the god Osiris.
In tall shining mitre, he raises his ox-herd’s whip and shepherd’s crook. With these, to the joyous cries of his Worshippers, he bestows with archaic gesture a seven-fold sign of benediction.
Once more then mounting the altar steps, the Priests step forth from their black robes and masks in their own garments of yellow gold. Thus, touching again the rim of the disk, they begin to revolve it—at first slowly.[22]
And now at its first motion, Osiris begins to dance.
In this dance he expresses the former beneficence of his life, the sufferings of his death, the rending of his body into seven parts and finally the joy of his resurrection.[23]
In rhythm to the primitive music, the Priests revolve the disk to the dancing movement of the god.
In this revolving movement his Worshippers below join in a dance on the ground (expressive of the blending of the seven parts of his body), where one by one successively the seven Processions encircle the altar and the dancing Osiris. As they do so, they slough off their dark garments, weaving thus a whirling movement in which the proportion of black ever diminishes while the golden yellow increases, until finally—in a blaze only of gold-yellow radiance—the Priests raise aloft on its pedestal the disk, still spinning, while the flame-red god, still dancing, is borne away in procession by his joyous Worshippers, shouting aloud their shrill cries of “Osiris!”
When all have disappeared through the south gate of the circle, Prospero on his throne speaks to Ariel,[24] announcing the Second Action of the Interlude—his art of the drama in Greece.
INTERLUDE I
_SECOND ACTION_: _GREEK_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [175] _Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS [100]
_Individuals_ [2] _Actors_ [9] Sophocles Antigone The Choregus[25] Ismene _Friends of Sophocles_ [20] Creon Aristophanes Haemon Socrates Eurydice Anaxagoras Teiresias Alcibiades A Watchman Euripides A Messenger Fifteen Others A Second Messenger
_Chorus_ [60] _Trainers and Stage_ Choreutai [In four bands, _Leaders_ [5] fifteen in each band.] Chorodidaskalos [Chorus Master] _Musicians_ [4] Orchestrodidaskalos Four Flute-players [Dancing Master] Choryphaios [Stage Chorus Leader] Two Parastatai [His Assistant Leaders]
FIGURANTS [75] _Athenian Audience_ [75] Pericles Aspasia Seventy-three Others.
THEME
Sophocles rehearses the Second Chorus of his drama “Antigone” in the Theatre of Dionysus, at Athens, B. C. 440.
ACTION
At the sounding of Interlude trumpets, the light passes to the great gates of the ground-circle, from which simultaneously two main groups enter.
From the right enter Athenian Citizens, accompanying Pericles and Aspasia. These move forward to the north portion of the Yellow Sands [between the centre of stage B and the altar] and there form the semicircle of an antique audience, which faces the altar and the modern audience. Among these, two seats are placed for Aspasia and Pericles.
From the left gate, meanwhile, has entered the Choregus [producer of the play], in conversation with Sophocles, followed closely by a group of twenty friends, among whom are Socrates, Aristophanes, Anaxagoras, Alcibiades, and Euripides. These move toward the centre. There Sophocles summons the Chorodidaskalos [Chorus Master], and the Orchestrodidaskalos [Dancing Master] to confer with him and the Choregus. Returning part way toward the left gate, the Chorus Master calls aloud “Antigone!”
Enter, then [left], the Actor of the part of Antigone, followed by a group of Actors comprising the impersonators of Ismene, Creon, Haemon, Eurydice, Teiresias, a Watchman, and two Messengers. With these, who carry their classic masks in their hands, the Choregus confers in pantomime, directs them to join Sophocles at the altar, and then calls aloud: “Choreutai!”
Thereupon enter the Choreutai [Members of the Chorus], sixty in number, in four bands, fifteen in each band. Preceded by the Choryphaios [Stage Chorus Leader] and four Flute-players [one for each band], escorted by two Parastatai [Assistant Leaders], the Chorus march in military order first south [each band in three ranks of five men] till they are opposite the altar, then east [each band in five files of three men], till they halt near the altar.
Here, after Sophocles has greeted Pericles and Aspasia nearby in the impromptu audience [which his group of friends have now joined], after he has chatted with Socrates, and been chaffed by Aristophanes and Alcibiades, he turns with the Choregus to conduct the rehearsal.
After giving directions to Antigone and Ismene, who rehearse in pantomime a snatch of their first scene together, and after a few instructions to Haemon, Euripides, and Teiresias, Sophocles now bids the Choregus direct the last few passages between Creon and the Messenger, just before the Second Chorus in the play.
They do so in pantomime; Creon, with final threatening gesture to the Messenger, makes his exit, and the Messenger—thanking the gods for his escape from Creon’s anger—also departs.
And now, by direction of Sophocles, the Chorus Master and the Master of Dance make signal to the Chorus and the Flute-players; Sophocles steps back near Pericles and his other friends: the Flutists begin playing and, under leadership of the two masters of choral song and of dance, the Chorus—with vigorous, rhythmic cadence of their athletic bodies—perform an austere dance about the altar, raising to its measure their choral song:
CHORUS
The words of this chorus are translated here by the author from the Second Chorus of Sophocles’ play “Antigone.”
_Many are the wonders of time, but the mightiest wonder is man; Man! for he maketh his path with the south wind, over the surges Down where the storm-white billows Loom to devour him: Yea, And Earth, the immortal, the oldest of gods, The untoilsome, he tameth with toiling horses Dark where his turning ploughshare Plougheth from age unto age._
_Birds, O the wild-hearted birds, and the breeds of the savage wood Deep in his woven nets he hath snared, and the broods of the bright sea Leadeth he likewise captive— Master of masters, Man! And high on the hills he hath tracked to her wild The shaggy-maned horse and yoked her in harness; Tireless, too, hath his spirit Tamed the wild mountain bull._
_Words, and the wind of great thought, and the mood that mouldeth a state, These hath he mastered, and knoweth to parry the white frost arrow’s Pitiless barb, and the pouring Arrows of purple rain. All, all hath he mastered, and all that may come He meeteth with cunning and power; but only Death hath he failed to master: Death is the master of man._
As they conclude, a runner comes hastening from the right gate, calling “Pericles!”
Pericles rises, receives in pantomime the message of the runner, and indicates to Sophocles that he must return to the city.
He and Aspasia and their followers depart [right gate]. With a gesture, then, to the Choregus, Sophocles dismisses the rehearsal; he and his friends follow the others; the Chorus forms again in files and ranks, moving off with the playing Flute-players to the right Interlude gate, where all disappear.
INTERLUDE I
_THIRD ACTION_: _ROMAN_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [150] _Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS AND SPECIALS
_Individuals_ [2] Caligula, Emperor of Rome Naevoleia, a female Mime _Roman Patricians_ [21] _Roman Populace_ [80] _Musicians_ [10] Two Players of Flutes ” ” ” Citherns ” ” ” Lyres ” ” ” Scabillae [foot cymbals] ” ” ” Shields and Cymbals _Pantomime Actors_ [7] Pantimimus, announcing the Pantomime, “Hercules and the Sphinx.” Two Boy Pantomimi Hercules, the demigod Silenus, the satyr Servus, a slave Omphale, a Nymph [afterward disguised as the Sphinx] _Mimes and Dancers_ [32] 16 Boy-Mimes, as Fauns 16 Girl-Mimes, as Nymphs
THEME
The Emperor Caligula witnesses a farcical comedy in pantomime, enacted in a street of Rome, A. D. 40.
ACTION
As the last of the Greeks disappear right, the Interlude trumpets sound at the left gate. There immediately resounds a great shout and clamor of voices, crying aloud: “Caligula! Salve, Imperator!” The gate is thrown open, and the Roman populace throng in, accompanying—in varied groups of squalor and poverty—the gorgeous Patricians that escort the Emperor Caligula, borne in a chariot, behind which follow a troupe of Roman Pantomime Actors and Mimes who carry a light platform with curtain, which they set up [centre, north], facing the altar.
The curtain is painted to represent the street exterior of a house, in the Pompeian-Roman style. In the centre, set in a lintel frame, is depicted a wide squat door, the stage platform forming its sill. Above the door is a window casement. Both door and window are devised to open and close practically. The top of the curtain is designed as an over-jutting tiled roof.
With the Pantomimists come a group of Musicians, consisting of players on flutes, shields and cymbals, citherns and lyres, and two who wear fastened to their ankles pairs of _scabilla_, a kind of cymbal for the feet.
The Populace and Patricians meantime cross to right of centre [further southwest].
In the chariot beside Caligula rides Naevoleia, a female Mime, whom Caligula—with amorous playfulness—kisses and crowns with gold laurel as she alights. Alighting with her, he himself helps to attire her in the garments worn in her part of the nymph Omphale in the stage pantomime to follow. Doing so, he thrusts aside—with a glance and gesture of jealous anger—the Chief Actor, who [in the part of Hercules] approaches to assist.
Caligula then escorts her to the improvised stage where she teasingly parts with him to play her rôle in the Comedy. Caligula returns to his chariot.
And now the Comedy is announced by the appearance [through the curtain door] of Pantomimus, a particolored figure, garbed antiquely as a harlequin, wreathed and masked.[26]
Behind Pantomimus, enter [on either side of him] two little Pantomimi, half his height, exactly resembling him in every particular. These, as with skipping step and motion Pantomimus makes his introduction, imitate his every movement of wand and gesture.
By his action, which is accompanied by flute, cymbal, and _scabilla_ players, Pantomimus describes very briefly the plot of the comedy which is to follow, viz:
THE SPHINX AND HERCULES[27]
THEME
Hercules, lured by the nymph Omphale to live with her a woman’s way of life, becomes terribly bored, rebels, and vows to a statue of the Sphinx to resume his manly exploits. By the help of the satyr Silenus, however, who makes Hercules drunk, Omphale—in guise of the Sphinx—wins Hercules back and marries him.
ACTION
As Pantomimus concludes this dumb-show exposition, he signs to his two Assistants, who run out and bring back two stage properties, which they place on either side: the right-hand one represents a squat pillar, on the top of which is the sitting figure of a bronze Sphinx; the left-hand—a set-piece of foliage and shrubbery.
All three then make their exit.
Enter, then, on the ground plane, from behind the stage platform, Servus, a house-slave, masked as such. He places on the platform a low seat and, beside it, a heap of wool and spinning materials. Then he prostrates himself toward the left ground entrance, as enter there—dancing to cymbal music—a group of young girl-mimes [without masks], dressed as Nymphs and carrying distaffs.
In the midst of these—preceded by most of them—enter Hercules, in grotesque mask, which depicts a comic-dejected expression. He is wadded after the manner of the comic histrionic vase-figures of antiquity, and walks downcast. Instead of his legendary lion’s skin, there hangs from his shoulder the wooly pelt of a sheep; in place of his knotted club, his hand holds a huge distaff; and for the rest he is dressed like a Greek woman.
He is accompanied by Omphale, masked as a beautiful and amorous nymph. Over her shoulders she wears his lion’s skin; in one hand she holds his massive club; with the other she caresses him.
With coquetting wiles, the Nymphs in their dancing draw the two toward the centre, where they sit beside the wool—Hercules, with heavy sighs, beginning to spin, while Omphale, posing in the lion’s skin, approves his labor. Here the Nymphs, reclined about them on the platform and the ground, execute a rhythmic dance with their arms and distaffs, singing to their movement:
Angustam amice pauperiem pati robustus acri militia puer condiscat et Parthos feroces vexet eques metuendus hasta vitamque sub divo et trepides agat in rebus ilium ex moenibus hosticis matrona bellanti tyranni prospiciens et adulta virgo suspiret, eheu, ne rudis agminum sponsus lacessat regius asperum tactu leonem, quem cruenta per medias rapit ira caedes.
At the culmination of this, Hercules, who has been repelling the attentions of Omphale, at first with feeble ennui, but afterward with increasing determination, now rises in grandiose disgust, and—snatching from her his lion’s skin and club—repudiates her and the Nymphs.
Flinging down the sheep’s pelt and setting his foot upon it, he breaks his distaff in pieces and, threatening Omphale, drives the Nymphs off the scene, left. [During this excitement, Servus—who has been standing aside—seizes the heap of wool, and exit with it in flight.] Turning then to the image of the Sphinx, Hercules expresses in dumb-show how, lured by the riddle of the Sphinx, he aspires to fight and conquer the world for her sake. Laying his club and lion’s skin devoutly at the foot of the column, he kneels, embraces it, and raises then his arms in supplication to the Sphinx.
Thus kneeling, he is watched furtively at a distance by Omphale, who, at his outburst, has run to the edge of the foliage, right. Hercules, rising, puts on his lion’s skin, and brandishing his club heroically for the benefit of the immovable Sphinx, goes off, left.
Immediately Omphale seizes from amid the foliage a sylvan pipe, and blows on it a brief, appealing ditty. At this, from behind the foliage, run out boy-mimes, in the guise of Fauns; she gesticulates to them beseechingly. They run back and presently return, advancing to pipe-music, accompanying and leading a goat, astride of which sits Silenus, an old grotesque Satyr, in mask.
Omphale greets him joyfully and helps him down from the goat. She then describes to him in pantomime the late outburst of Hercules—his breaking the spindle, his enamoration for the Sphinx, etc., and prays his aid and advice.
Silenus pauses an instant in philosophical absorption, then gives a leap and skip. Omphale, seeing that he has hit on some plan, expresses her pleasure and inquires what his plan may be. Silenus bids her call a slave. Omphale claps her hands toward the left entrance. Servus enters. Silenus signs to him. Servus goes back and returns immediately, rolling in a wine-cask, from which he fills an antique beaker. From this Silenus sips and approves. He then points to the Sphinx and asks if be that of which Hercules is enamored. Omphale assents. Silenus then directs Servus to lift the Sphinx down from the pillar. Servus does so, revealing its hollow interior as he carries it. Silenus, drawing Omphale’s attention to this fact of its hollowness, opens the door in the curtain, and commands Servus to bear the Sphinx within. Servus does so. Silenus, then, pointing to the window above the door, whispers in the ear of Omphale, who, delighted, enters the door after Servus. Silenus closes the door as Hercules reënters, left.
The hero has discarded his woman’s garb, and comes forward now dressed as a man, with lion’s skin and club—his mask changed to one of an exultant and martial expression.
Silenus greets him with obsequious and cunning servility and offers him wine. Hercules, with good-natured hauteur, condescends to accept the cup which he offers. While he is drinking, the window above in the curtain opens, and Omphale thrusts her head out, revealing [within] beside her own, the Sphinx’s head. Silenus secretively motions her to be cautious. Seeing his gesture, Hercules looks up, but not swiftly enough to detect Omphale, who withdraws. Again looking forth, as he turns to drink again, Omphale mocks Hercules below, dropping wisps of wool on his head, the source of which, however, Hercules fails to detect. Silenus explains that the wool is really feathers, which fell from a bird flying overhead.
Hercules now, under the sly persuasions of the old Satyr, grows more pleased with the wine, and becomes drunk—as he becomes so, expressing to Silenus, with increasing familiarity and descriptive force, all the mighty exploits he intends to accomplish in the service of the incomparable Sphinx, whose living prototype he declares he will immediately set forth in search of.
Starting now, humorously drunk, to depart [right] he is detained by Silenus, who points upward to the window, where now the blank, immovable face of the Sphinx looks forth at the sky. Hercules, bewildered, asks Silenus if it is really the Sphinx herself and alive? Silenus assents and proves his assertion by pointing to the deserted pedestal. At this, Hercules addresses the Sphinx, with impassioned gestures. The Sphinx remains immovable. Hercules becomes discouraged. Silenus then puts a pipe in his hand, and tells him to play it. He does so, and is rewarded by a slow, preternatural look from the Sphinx. At this he plays more vociferously and, surrounded by the little piping Fauns, performs a serenade beneath the casement, while Silenus, looking on from a distance, rubs his hands with sly delight.
The serenade ends by Hercules, on his knees, imploring the Sphinx to come down. The Sphinx at length consents and the casement closes. Silenus calls his Fauns away to the edge of the foliage, and Hercules goes to the door.
For a moment nothing happens and Hercules knocks on the steps impatiently with his club. Then the door opens and enter the Sphinx—dressed below in the Greek garments of Omphale, but from the waist upward consisting of the sitting image of the Sphinx, beneath whose closed wings the arms of Omphale are thrust through and have place for motion.
The Sphinx, its tail swinging behind, descends the steps, reticent and impassive, attended by Hercules, drunk and enamored.
Then at the foot of the steps, to the accompaniment from the foliage of the piping Fauns, who play softly a variation of the serenade theme, Hercules woos the Sphinx, who, at the proper moment, succumbs to his entreaties. After embracing him amorously, she extends her hand to him. He seizes it to kiss; she withdraws it and signifies that he must put a ring on the ring-finger. Hercules hunts about him in vain for the ring. Calling then to Silenus and the Fauns, he explains to them the situation.
Silenus, producing a ring, hands it to Hercules, who puts it on the finger of the Sphinx.
Instantly a clash of cymbals is heard from the left, and a clapping of palms from the right, and re-enter the dancing Nymphs, who encircle the scene just as Servus removes from the bride the great mask of the Sphinx, thereby revealing her to the astounded Hercules—as Omphale, who embraces him, exulting in her ring.
Just as she is embracing and kissing him, the scene is interrupted by a cry of jealous rage from Caligula who springs from his chariot, calling: “Hercules!” At his gesture slaves run before him, seize Hercules, and hale him toward Caligula, who bids them whip him. Frightened, for an instant, Omphale [the Mime Naevoleia] then hastens as if to intercede, but, seeing Caligula’s expression, taunts him with toying bravado, and finally as he kisses her makes him burst with her into laughter, as Hercules is dragged off through the hooting crowd, flogged by Caligula’s slaves. [During the latter part of this Roman Action, LUST has appeared at the mouth of Caliban’s cell and looked on. His voice now joins the loud laughter of Caligula.]
Dispersing in confusion, the Pantomime Actors remove their curtain and platform [right] into the darkness, which now envelops also Caligula and the Roman populace.
END OF INTERLUDE I
INTERLUDE II
_FIRST ACTION_: _GERMANIC_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [150] _Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS [150] _Individuals_ [2]
Forerunner [Einschreier] Out-crier [Ausschreier]
_Pantomime Actors_ [6] _Musicians_ [10] Doctor Faustus Ten Pipers An Apprentice _Symbolic Group_ [22] Lucifer Doctors [8] Two Devils Priests [4] Helena Artists [9] Melancholia [1] _Citizens of Nüremberg_ [110] Men and Women [70] Apprentices [40]
THEME
On a street of Nüremberg, in their Shrovetide festival, a band of Apprentices enact, on a wheeled stage, a pantomime scene from an early version of “Doctor Faustus.” Time: Sixteenth century.
ACTION
At Prospero’s final words in Act I, the playing of pipes is heard at the right Interlude Gates, where enter a band of Apprentices, accompanying a wheeled street-stage, drawn by donkeys with bells and set with a three-fold scene of Earth, Heaven, and Hell. Some of the Apprentices are masked, some disguised as fools. They enter, singing an old German folk song, and march to the centre of the ground-circle (between the altar and the south entrance), where the stage pauses. Before them has hastened a forerunner (Einschreier), blowing a horn and shouting: “Schauspieler! Doctor Faustus!”
Along with them, Pipers accompany their singing. Behind them follow folk of Nüremberg, gaping peasants and merry-making young people.
From the left gate, meanwhile [in obscurer light], enters a graver group, clad symbolically as Doctors of Learning, Priests, and Artists, accompanying another wheeled vehicle, the stage of which is wholly curtained from view.
These stop at some distance from the former group, and look on from a place of shadow.
And now, where the first stage has paused in a place of brighter glow, the Actors appear and begin their pantomime.
Doctor Faustus appears on the Middle Stage, Earth. There, amid his astronomical instruments, he greets the gaping crowd and points a telescope toward the place of Heaven. Suddenly a comet flashes above the stage. An Apprentice inquires the reason. Doctor Faustus explains it by revealing its two fathers—the Sun and the Moon, which now appear shining simultaneously in Heaven.
At this sorcery, Lucifer comes from Hell, signifies to Faustus that his hour has come, and that he must follow him. Faustus begs a last wish, which Lucifer reluctantly grants. He begs to see once more his beloved Helena of Troy.
Then in Heaven appears Helena, who comes to Faustus on Earth and embraces him. But now Lucifer—summoning two tailed devils with pitch-forks—bids them drag Faustus from the arms of Helena, who flees back to Heaven, disappearing there, as Faustus is prodded and haled to the up-bursting flames of Hell, amid the exultant laughter of Lucifer.
At this _finale_, the stage and its audience moves off through the left gate, while the graver Symbolic Group—crossing right in deep shadow—pauses at the centre.
There, for a moment, the curtains of their pageant stage are drawn, revealing—in mystic light—a dim-glowing tableau of Albrecht Dürer’s _Melancholia_.
As this pales into darkness, the Group with its curtained stage moves vaguely off, and vanishes through the right gate of the Interlude.
INTERLUDE II
_SECOND ACTION_: _FRENCH_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [150] _Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS [50] FIGURANTS [100]
_Individuals_ [4] Francis I, of France _Heralds_ [10: Figurants] Henry VIII, of England French [5] French Tourney-rider English [5] English Tourney-rider
_Nobles and Courtiers_ _Servants and Followers_ [88: Figurants] [48: Participants] French [44] French [24] English [44] English [24]
THEME[28]
To celebrate Peace between their nations, after long war, Francis I of France and Henry VIII of England meet on the Field of the Cloth of Gold [A. D. 1520], and hold a tournament.
ACTION
After the mystic tableau of the _Melancholia_ has departed, a peal of trumpets from the Interlude gates [right and left] ushers in a pageant of contrasted splendor.
In the left gateway appear the Heralds of the French, in the right, of the English.
Then [to music of the unseen orchestra, above, playing the instrumental music only of the Chorus “Glory and Serenity,” which later is sung by voices in Act II], enter, on horseback, the two Kings, Francis I and Henry VIII, accompanied by their Nobles and Servants.
All are clad in golds and yellows.
On the banners of the English is depicted St. George and the Dragon; on the banners of the French—the lilies of France.
The servants set up at centre [just south of Caliban’s cell] a gorgeous canopy with two thrones, in which the two Kings, dismounting, take their seats, the French followers grouped on the left, the English on the right.
Then to the royal presence, a Herald summons, by trumpet call, two Tourney-riders [French and English], who come riding in armor, from the south gate, on horses caparisoned with their national colors and symbols.
Taking their places, at signal again of the Herald, to shouts of the spectators, they ride at each other with set lances, in a mock battle—which comprises two actions.
In the first action, the French rider is unhorsed, in the second, the English rider.
During both actions, the English cry “St. George for England!” the French “Vive la France!”
Between the two actions, the French King rises and toasts the English King, to acclamations of the French.
After the second action, King Henry compliments King Francis, to acclamations of the English.
Then, as the two Kings clasp hands, both sides shout aloud: “God save the King!” and “Vive le Roi!” raising aloft their banners and emblems.
At the climax of this demonstration, the invisible orchestra resumes the march of “Glory and Serenity,” to which the Kings, remounting their horses, ride off side by side, followed by their English and French suites, now commingled, disappearing through the south gateway.
INTERLUDE II
_THIRD ACTION_: _SPANISH-ITALIAN_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [150] _Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS [150] [NO FIGURANTS]
_Individuals_ [2] _Improvised Comedy_ The Doge of Venice _Actors_ [6] The Spanish Ambassador Il Capitano Arlecchino _Venetian Nobles_ [24] Il Commandatore Pantalone _Spanish Courtiers_ [24] Brighella _Venetian Populace_ [94] Columbina
THEME
On the plaza of St. Marks in Venice [A. D., about 1630], a troop of Improvised Comedy Actors [of the _Commedia dell’ Arte_] enact before the Doge and the Spanish Ambassador, amid the populace, during a _festa_, a pantomime scene depicting an adventure of Don Giovanni.
ACTION
When the last of the gold-clad French and English have departed through the South Gate, a chiming of church-bells from the gates of the north [right and left] gives signal for the entrance there of an Italian _Festa_.
From the right, enters the Doge with his Venetian nobles, accompanied by the Italian populace; from the left, the Spanish Ambassador and his Suite, accompanied by a troop of Improvised Comedy Actors, who set up a platform on wooden horses before the Doge and the Ambassador where they meet and greet each other, at right of centre [north].
Here six Actors mount the platform, at the back of which is a curtain, divided in the middle.
These are _Il Capitano_ [the Captain], _Arlecchino_ [Harlequin], _Il Commandatore_ [the Commander], _Pantalone_ [Pantaloon], Brighella, and Columbina [_Columbine_]. They all pass behind the curtain, through the folds in the middle.
After a moment’s prelude of stringed instruments, then, the Pantomime begins.
First, in semi-darkness, HARLEQUIN appears, carrying a lighted lantern on the end of a sword. At a noise of laughter from behind the curtain he stops and trembles. The laughter sounds again, deep and harsh; Harlequin trembles so violently that the lantern falls and goes out.
In the dimness, enter Il Capitano in the part of DON GIOVANNI, muffled in an immense cloak. Harlequin falls on his back, feigning death, but keeping his sword pointing upward. Stumbling against him, Don Giovanni draws his sword and strikes the sword of Harlequin, who leaps up. They begin a duel, in the midst of which they suddenly recognize each other as friends and embrace.
Enter now [bringing lanterns, which illumine the stage more brightly] PANTALOON and BRIGHELLA. Both are wrapped in cloaks.
Greeting Don Giovanni, who returns the greeting, Pantaloon explains that he has a rendezvous with a beautiful young lady [the head of Columbine having peered momentarily through the curtain]; that he will make a certain sign to call her; that he must be cautious, as she has a fierce and suspicious father. Don Giovanni becomes very interested, and confides that he, too, must attend a rendezvous, for which he needs a disguise. For this, he persuades Pantaloon to change cloaks with him. They do so, their servants also exchanging cloaks.
Exeunt then Pantaloon and Brighella.
Don Giovanni now, approaching the curtain, makes the aforesaid sign described by Pantaloon. At this, enter COLUMBINE, who mistakes him for Pantaloon and approaches him lovingly. He allows her to do so, but soon—opening his cloak—he terrifies her by his wrong identity. However, he is handsomer than Pantaloon, and quickly wins her for himself. In this Harlequin delightedly assists him.
Finally, just as Columbine succumbs and goes to his arms, her father, THE COMMANDER, enters. Seeing her in Don Giovanni’s arms, he bursts into terrible anger, draws his sword, and attacks the lover. Harlequin tries to prevent him but fails.
Putting the frightened Columbine behind him, Don Giovanni returns the attack with his sword, fights and suddenly kills the Commander, who falls motionless.
In terror, Columbine and Harlequin scream and run out [through the curtain], leaving Don Giovanni standing with one foot and his sword-point prodding the dead body.
To screams and shudderings also from the horrified onlookers of the populace, darkness falls on the stage.
Then, as suddenly—in a burst of light—the Actors come trooping forth all together in laughter, make faces and comic gestures at the people, remove their curtain and stage, and run off [right], to merry twanging of instruments, followed by the Doge, Ambassador, and populace.
END OF INTERLUDE II
INTERLUDE III
In the New York production in May, 1916, the performance of this Interlude will be arranged by members of the New York City Centre of the U. S. A. Branch of the English Folk Dance Society, under the personal direction of Mr. Cecil J. Sharp, who has devised the Action of this Interlude, and has worded the description of it—in conference with the author—as here printed.
_ELIZABETHAN ENGLAND_ _Action Continuous, in 8 Successive Episodes_
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [about 400] _Comprise_
PARTICIPANTS AND FIGURANTS
_Individuals_ _Tideswell Procession_: [100] Sun _May Tree Procession_: [100] Frost _Morris Dance Group_: [25] May Queen Dancers: 16 Hobby Horse Dancer Attendants: 9 Club-Man _Hobby Horse Group_: [25] Fool Dancers: 15 Witch Attendants: 10 King _Tumblers and Jugglers_: [25] Queen _Rustic Play-Actors_: [25] Noah _Winter Group_: [50] Noah’s Wife _Spring Group_: [50]
THEME
Celebration of an Elizabethan May Day Festival on the outskirts of an English town.
ACTION
1: _CONTEST BETWEEN SPRING AND WINTER_
A group of 25 young men, representing Winter, all dressed in close-fitting black garments, enter from Caliban’s cell. They carry a ball and, commanded by one of their number—Frost—advance slowly and dejectedly and lie down near the centre of the ground guarding the ball. A group of 25 young men, dressed in tight-fitting green garments, representing Spring, enter through the right Interlude Gate. Headed by one of their number—Sun—they come forward running and shouting. Winter[29] rise and stand in defence of the ball. A scuffle ensues and the ball is released from the scrimmage. It is then kicked about by both sides, Spring trying to force it toward the water,[30] Winter repelling it therefrom. Sun and Frost encourage their respective supporters but do not touch the ball. Groups of villagers come in, by twos and threes [20 to 25 in number], and join the ranks of Spring, who are thus enabled to overpower Winter. Eventually, one of the Spring group secures the ball, holds it aloft and, surrounded by his followers, runs toward the water. Winter follow, fatigued and languid. As the Spring man approaches the water, maidens, 10 or 12 in number, enter from various quarters and swell the group. The ball is then raised and ceremonially thrown into the water; whereupon, the girls join Spring in hunting Winter back again into their cave.
2: _PROCESSIONAL DANCE THROUGH VILLAGE_
While Winter is being driven off the arena, a procession of Villagers, comprising 50 couples [i. e., partners], enter through South Interlude Gate and dance the Tideswell Processional Morris. The dancers include men, women, and children of all classes and are dressed in their holiday clothes, plentifully bedecked with flowers and ribbons. Each carries two handkerchiefs, one in each hand, or, if preferred, boughs of May blossom. They dance round the arena in a spiral until the front couple reach the centre; whereupon, all raise their arms and shout on the last chord of the tune. Spring and all the actors already on the ground join in the procession at the rear, or wherever they can squeeze in.
3: _REVELS AND AMUSEMENTS_
Upon the completion of the dance, the dancers disperse noisily all over the ground. The children play Singing Games, e. g., “Oats and Beans,” “Here We Come Gathering Nuts (i. e. Knots) in May,” “Old Sir Roger,” etc., in different parts of the ground—not too close together. Booths and stalls are brought in, a rustic stage[31] is set up, tumblers and jugglers, surrounded by groups of spectators, give their performances, and all unite in a scene of general merriment. Couples, each consisting of a boy and a girl, carry May garlands, sing May day songs, and solicit offerings. The young men chase the girls and kiss them “under the green,” i. e., while raising the boughs of green over their heads.
4: _MAY POLE PROCESSION_
The following procession enters from South Interlude Gate.
[1] Two Jack-O’-Greens [2] Plough-boys with plough. [3] Sowers. [4] Reapers. [5] Wagon, drawn by several yoke of oxen, carrying the tree. [6] Milkmaids. [7] Blacksmiths. [8] Wheelwrights. [9] Carpenters. [10] Butchers. [11] Shoemakers.
[1] Hidden in bushes of green, surmounted by a May Garland. [2] White smocks, patched with pictures, in red and black cloth, representing farm-animals. Hats covered with flowers, their plough smothered with ribbons and flowers. [3] Carrying baskets of grain, pretending to sow. [4] With reaping hooks or sickles. [5] Wagon and oxen decorated with greenery and ribbons, the horns of the oxen with flowers. The carters, who walk on either side of the wagon, wear broad-brimmed hats, short smocks, breeches, all covered with ribbons and flowers, and carry whips or goads similarly decorated, with which they urge on the oxen. [6] Carrying pails and dishes; wearing short dresses, and sun-hats or bonnets, all covered with flowers and ribbons. [7] With bare heads, leathern aprons, carrying implements of trade—hammers, anvils, tongs. [8] Carrying or rolling wheels. [9] With saws, planes, tools, etc. [10] Wearing blue blouses, carrying marrow bones and cleavers, and clashing them as they march.
When the wagon reaches the May-pit, the procession halts. The tree is ceremonially removed, ivy, laurels, and other greenery wound round it spirally, a large bunch of flowers placed at the top, and then, in dead silence, solemnly raised to position. Directly this is accomplished, the spectators raise a great shout and repeat it three times: “The Pole is up.”
5: _ELECTION OF MAY QUEEN, AND MAY POLE DANCE_
The men disperse in groups and, after some discussion and altercation, proceed in a body to the woman of their choice, present her with a wreath of May blossom, with ribbon streamers and rosettes for her dress, and escort her to a raised mound of grass where every one may see her. She is kissed “under the green” by the men, amid much laughter and merriment. The woman chosen is a regular “man’s girl,” jolly and of a romping kind, quite different from the conventional May Queen.
A large group is formed round the May pole in a ring, alternately men and women, and all take hands. The May pole dance is then performed—“Sellenger’s Round” and “Gathering Peascods.”
6: _HOBBY HORSE AND PADSTOW MAY SONG_
The hobby horse is made in the following way: A wooden hoop, about 3 feet in diameter, is covered with black canvas with a hole in the centre, about the size of a man’s head. The canvas is edged with red and white ribbon round the circumference, and depends from the edges about 4 feet like a curtain. The hoop is then placed on a man’s shoulders, his head, hidden in a tall conical mask of many colors, passing through a hole in the centre of the canvas, the curtain hiding his body and legs. In the front of the hoop is a long, slender horse’s head, made of wood, and at the back of the hoop is attached a curly horse’s tail about 18 inches long. The horse is accompanied by the “Club-man” who is dressed in black, covered with rosettes and bows of colored ribbon, and wears a grotesque mask similar to that of the hobby horse. Throughout the proceedings, he faces the Horse and dances backward, holding in his right hand a stout, nobbed club, about 18 to 24 inches in length, colored like the mask.
The hobby horse enters from the left Interlude Gate, escorted by six or eight couples of men, gaily dressed and decorated with flowers, singing the May song, in which the assembled spectators join. As they make their appearance, the crowd runs out, meets them, and surrounds them in a ring, in the middle of which the horse and its attendant dance, the former every now and again dashing out and trying to catch one of the maidens, who, with much laughter, usually succeeds in avoiding his clumsy embraces. When the tune has been sung a few times, a slight pause is made, the horse sinks down with his head on the ground, the club-man drops on one knee and places his club on the horse’s nose, while the crowd sing very solemnly the dirge-like strain, “O Where is St. George?” At the conclusion of this, a slight pause is made and then the riotous May song is suddenly taken up and the dance resumed. This may be repeated once or twice, when the proceedings are interrupted by the entrance of the
7: _MORRIS DANCERS_
The dancers, all of them men, are 16 in number and are accompanied by a King and Queen, Witch and Fool, and Hobby horses. The Witch and Fool head the procession, the former with his broom, and the latter with his stick, fox’s tail, and bladder clearing the way. The King and Queen march at the head of the Morris dancers, the King beating time with his sword. The Hobby horses prance round and aid the Witch and Fool in clearing a passage. The dancers move forward, dancing the “Winster Processional Dance.” When the procession has reached a good position in the centre, the tune changes and without pause the dancers perform the “Winster Morris Reel,” “The Old Woman Tossed up in a Blanket.”
For the dresses of the dancers see photographs in The Morris Book [parts II and III]. The Witch is a man dressed in bedraggled woman’s clothes, with face blackened, and carries a short besom. The Fool has a pork-pie hat covered with flowers and feathers, tunic, to the hips, of bright multi-colored stuff edged with silver fringe, buckskin breeches, stockings of odd colors, and bells round the ankles. He carries a stick with a fox’s tail at one end and a bladder at the other. Sometimes he has a dinner-bell attached to the middle of his back. The King and Queen are serious characters, the latter being represented by a man dressed in woman’s clothes. The King carries a sword and should be dressed in the military dress of the period: the Queen is grandly dressed, with a touch of comic extravagance, in the garb of a court lady of the period. The Hobby horses—say half a dozen in number—are of the “tournament” variety, and carry sticks and bladders.
8: _COUNTRY DANCES AND RECESSIONAL_
When the Morris dance is finished, the company disperses and amuses itself for a while until the pipe-and-taborers make their appearance. This is a signal for every one to find a partner for a country dance. Groups are formed all over the ground and “The Black Nag” is performed, followed by a Longways dance, e. g., “Row well, ye mariners.” On the conclusion of the latter, the dancers, who are already in processional formation, dance off the ground to the “Helston Ferry Processional Dance,” disappearing in different groups through the several exits.
EPILOGUE
_ACTION: INTERNATIONAL AND SYMBOLIC_
THEME
In three main, symbolic groups—Theatres, Actors, Dramatists—The Spirit of Time summons the creative forces of the art of the theatre, to defeat the destructive influences of War, Lust, and Death, and prophetically to survive them.
ACTION[32]
First, from the two gates [right and left] of the ground-circle, the Pageant of Theatres enters in two processions, which group themselves [right and left of Caliban’s cell] on the flight of steps and ramps leading to Stage B.
Secondly, through the mouth-entrances of the Masks of Comedy and of Tragedy, the Comic Actors [through the former] and the Tragic Actors [through the latter] enter upon stage B, cross before Prospero and take their stations, with their respective Theatres, on the steps and ramps.
Thirdly, the Dramatists, of Comedy and Tragedy, do likewise.
In this procession of the Dramatists, occurs the pantomime and stage business of the meeting between Prospero and Shakespeare.
After the procession of Dramatists, all three main groups are enveloped by darkness, in which—after the final choir of Ariel’s spirits—they disperse, unseen.
EPILOGUE
_COMMUNITY ACTORS_ [300] _Comprise_
SPECIALS: 300
_Theatres_: Total 100 persons [25 groups] _Actors_: ” 100 ” _Dramatists_: ” 100 ” ---- [33]Grand total 300 ”
From the following lists of Theatres, Actors, and Dramatists, revised and modified, the final groups will be selected. The lists, as here given, are merely preliminary, and have been sketched in, during the printing of this Appendix, so as not to be wholly omitted from the publication of this edition. As far as they concern the New York production of the Masque, _they are not to be construed as anything more than suggestive material for the necessarily impressionistic pageant-groups of the Epilogue_.
_THEATRES_
ANCIENT GREECE Theatre of Dionysus at Athens, Epidaurus, Ephesus, Sicyon.
ANCIENT ROME Theatre of Pompey, Scarrus, Balbus Cornelius, Marcellus.
_Provincial Theatres_ Antioch, Lyons, Herculaneum, Orange.
CONSTANTINOPLE Hippodrome, of Emperor Septimius Severus.
ITALY Florence della Pergola Venice Fenice Genoa Carlo Felice Milan La Scala Vicenza Olympian Theatre
PORTUGAL Lisbon San Carlos
FRANCE Hotel du Burgoyne, Comedie Francaise, Palais Royal, Odeon, Porte St. Martin, Antoine.
AUSTRIA Vienna Burgtheater
GERMANY Weimar, Deutsches, Lessing.
RUSSIA Art Theatre, Warsaw; Kremlin, Moscow.
AMERICA
_New York_ Booth’s, Bowery, Wallack’s, Daly’s.
_Boston_ Federal Street, Boston Theatre, Boston Museum.
_Philadelphia_ Arch Street, Walnut Street, Chestnut Street.
_Chicago_ McVicker’s.
_San Francisco_ California.
_Washington_
Ford’s.
_New Orleans_
St. Charles.
ENGLAND Globe, Bankside, Bear Garden, Hope, Swan, Drury Lane, Haymarket, Covent Garden.
_Dublin_ Smock Alley.
_ACTORS_
_GREECE_ Thespis, Polus [of Aegina], Aristodemus, Neoptolemus, Thessalus, Athenodorus, Cleander, Mynniscus [of Chalcis], Callipides, Timotheus.
_ROME_ Esopus, Roscius, C. Publilius, Ambivius Turpio, Haitilius Praenestinus, Bathyllus, Pylades, Publilius Syrus.
_ITALY_ [_Actors_] Domenico Biancolelli, Luigi Riccoboni, Nicola Barbieri, Francesco Andreini, Fiorelli, Tommasino, Salvini, Madena, Rossi. [_Actresses_] Sedowsky, Isabella Andreini, Ristori.
_SPAIN_ [_Actors_] Lope de Rueda, Navarro of Toledo, Alonso de Olmedo, Sebastian de Prado, Isidoro Maiquez, José Valero, Julián Romea, Rafael Calvo, Antonio Vico. [_Actresses_] La Baltasara, La Calderona, La Pacheca, La Tirana, Rita Luna, Matilde Diez.
_FRANCE_ [_Actors_] Jodelet, Harduin, Rodogune, Talma, Got, LeKain, Molé, Fréville, Baron, Montfleury, Lemaitre, Coquelin, Mounet Sulley. [_Actresses_] Dangville, Rachel, George, Mars, Des Oeillets, Bejart, Champmeslé, Lecouvreur, Dumesnil, Clairon, David.
_HOLLAND_ [_Actors_] Louis Bouwmeister, Willem Haverkorn, Johannes Haverkamp, Andries Snoek. [_Actresses_] Mme. Wattier.
_GERMANY_ [_Actors_] Possart, Bamay, Kainz, Iffland, Konrad, Ekkof, Dawison, Lewinsky, Döhring, Ackerman, Carl Bonn, Dalberg, L. Dessoit, Anschutz, Hasse, Beckmann, Gabillon. [_Actresses_] Sonnenthal, Devrient, Schröder, Carolina Neuber, Charlotte Wolter, Julie Rettich, Julie Löwe, Carolina Bauer, Geistinger, Zitt, Raabe, Buske, Fleck, Brockmann, Matkowsky, Dingelstedt, Borchers.
[_SCANDINAVIA_]
_DENMARK_ [_Actors_] Ludwig Phister, Christen N. Rosenkilde, Nicolai Nielsen, Emil Poulsen, Michael Wieke, Michael Rosing. [_Actresses_] Johanne Louise Heiberg, Anna Neilsen, Julie Södring.
_SWEDEN_ [_Actors_] Fredrik Deland, Ebba Hwasser, Pierre Deland, Karl Georg Dahlquist.
_NORWAY_ [_Actors_] Johannes Brun, Henrik Klausen. [_Actresses_] Laura Gundersen, Lucie Wolf, Sophie Pavelius.
_RUSSIA_ [_Actors_] V. Samoilov, N. Samoilov, Nikitin, Ershov, Lenski, Karatygina (family), M. S. Shchepkin, Krapivnitzki. [_Actresses_] Fedotava, Vyera Samortova, Savina, Karatygina (family), Kommissaryhevskaya, E. P. Struyskaya.
_AMERICA_ [_Actors_] Junius Brutus Booth, Jas. Wallack, Edwin Forrest, Edwin Booth, Lester Wallack, Wm. Warren, John McCulloch, Lawrence Barrett, E. A. Sothern, Jos. Jefferson, Wm. Florence, James A. Hackett, John Gilbert, Edward L. Davenport, Wm. B. Wood, T. A. Cooper, Wilson Barrett, Rignold, Chas. Wheatley, MacKean, Buchanon, James Murdock, J. B. Roberts, Williamson, Whiffin, Tony Pastor, Hart, Harrigan, Stuart Robson, John T. Raymond, Denman Thompson, Maurice Barrymore, Richard Mansfield. [_Actresses_] Charlotte Cushman, Mrs. John Drew, Modjeska, Matilda Heron, Mme. Ponisi, Laura Keene, Fannie Davenport, Ada Rehan.
_GREAT BRITAIN_ [_Actors_] Burbage, Betteron, Colley Cibber, Garrick, Macready, Edmund Kean, Tyrone Power, Samuel Phelps, Buckstone, Charles Macklin, Samuel Foote, Tate Wilkinson, Barry, Quinn, Henderson, John Philip Kemble, Robert Wilks, Thomas Sheridan, Henry Mossop, John Liston, William Betty, Henry Irving, Lawrence Irving. [_Actresses_] Nance Oldfield, Mrs. Betterton, Mrs. Mountfort, Mrs. Bracegirdle, Nell Gwynne, Mrs. Siddons, Peg Woffington, Fanny Kemble, Hannah Pritchard, Mrs. Abington, Mrs. Jordan, George Anne Bellamy, Helen Barry, Helen Faucit, Katherine Clive, Mrs. Farren.
_DRAMATISTS_
_GREECE_ [_Tragedy_] Aeschylus, Choerilus, Pratinas, Phrynichus, Sophocles, Euripides, Carcinus, Chaeremon. [_Comedy_] Phormis [of Maenalus], Epicharmus, Susarion, Chionides, Aristophanes, Eupolis, Magnes, Philemon, Menander, Rhinthon, Apollodorus, Diphilus, Posidippus.
_ROME_ [_Tragedy_] Livius Andronicus, Accius, Pacuvius, Asinius Pollis, Varius, Ovid, Seneca, Curiatius Maternus, J. Cæsar Strabo. [_Comedy_] Plautus, Terence, Ennius, Statius Caecilius, Lavinius, Naevius, Melissus, Afranius, Laberius, Pomponius, Atta.
_ITALY_ [_Tragedy_] Ariosto, Manzoni, Alfieri, Nicolini, Tasso. [_Comedy_] Metastasio, Martelli, Maffei, Gozzi, Pindemonti, Monti, Flavio, Goldoni.
_SPAIN AND PORTUGAL_
[_Spain_] Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Calderon, Alarcon, Gongora, Argensola, Moreto, de Hoz, Canizarez, Luzan, Huerta. [_Portugal_] Saa de Miranda, Gil Vincente, Ferreira, Garcao.
_FRANCE_ Etienne Jodelle, Garnier, Larivey, Montcrétien, Hardi, Viaud, Scudéri, Corneille, Boisrobert, Chevreau, Scarron, de Bergerac, Quinault, Molière, Boursault, Racine, Voltaire, l’Hermite, Rotrou, Crébillon, Le Sage, Beaumarchais, Longpierre, Fontenelli, La Motte, Legrand, Destouches, Marivaux, Sardou, Hugo, Dumas, Scribe, Zola, Legouvé, Augier, Halévy, Le Maitre, De Vigny.
_HOLLAND_ Hooft, Brederoo, Vondel, Vos, Goes, Pels, Asselijn, van Focquenbroch, Bilderdijk.
_GERMANY_ Hans Sachs, Gryphius, Gottshed, Klopstock, Wieland, Herder, Kozebue, Hafner, Goethe, Schiller, Lessing, Novalis, Arnim, Hoffmann, Hrotsvitha of Gandersheim, Kleist, Grillparzer, Schlegel, Freytag, Heyse, Gutzkow, Wagner, Werner, Körner, Klingemann, Uhland, Chamisso, Arndt, Heine, Grabbe, Immermann, Weise, Grinunelohausen, Klinger, Ludwig, Laube, Holm, Giebel, Wildenbruch, Angengruber, Nestroy, Raimund.
_SCANDINAVIA_ Holberg, Oehlenschläger, J. L. Heiberg, Bjornson, Wessel, Ewald, Hauch, Hostrup, Hertz, Paludan-Müller, Overskou, Ibsen, Lidner, Tegner, Runeberg, Blanche, Strindberg, Kielland, Lie.
_RUSSIA_ Sumarokoff, Catherine II, Von Viezin, Krilov, Astrovski, Pushkin, Gogol, Tolstoi, Tchekhof, Griboyedov.
_AMERICA_ Royal Tyler, John Howard Payne, Boker, Longfellow, Wm. Young, N. P. Willis, Dion Boucicault, John Brougham, Augustin Daly, Steele MacKaye, Bronson Howard, James A. Herne, Clyde Fitch, William Vaughn Moody.
_GREAT BRITAIN_ Beaumont, Fletcher, Jonson, Shirley, Greene, Peele, Webster, Ford, Massinger, Middleton, Heywood, Lyly, Marlowe, Shakespeare, Dekker, Marston:—Dryden, Wycherley, Congreve, Vanbrugh, Otway, Etheredge, d’Urfey, Farquhar, d’Avenant, Sedley, Lacy, Shadwell, Crowne, Steele, Addison, Rowe:—Goldsmith, Sheridan, Fielding, Shelley:—Knowles, Lytton, Robertson, Tennyson, Browning, Reade, Taylor, Wilde:—Phillips, Synge, Hankin, Davidson.
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Information for Communities, Clubs, Societies, and Drama League Centres throughout the Country about
Mr. PERCY MACKAYE’S
SHAKESPEARE TERCENTENARY MASQUE Entitled “_CALIBAN: BY THE YELLOW SANDS_”
Doubleday, Page & Company have pleasure in announcing Mr. MacKaye’s Masque, which in many respects has become the national tribute of the New York Shakespeare Celebration, the Shakespeare National Memorial Committee, and The Drama League of America for the anniversary of 1916.
The publication of the Masque has been hurried as much as possible in order to give communities, societies, colleges, and Drama League centres throughout the country an opportunity to read the text and thus arrange their celebrations in harmony with the Masque.
The first performances of the Masque will be given by the New York Shakespeare Celebration during the week of May 23d, when it will be enacted out of doors, at night, in the City College Stadium adapted to seat about 20,000 spectators. There several thousand citizens of New York will take part in conjunction with a body of actors of national repute. It will then be released for use by other communities or societies on June 1st. Immediately after the close of the New York performances, a professional company will take the Masque on the road for presentation by them in conjunction with community and club groups throughout the country. The professional company will fill the leading parts and take with them a complete outfit of scenery and properties. For full particulars, address the Chairman of the National Circuit Committee, 736 Marquette Bldg., Chicago, Ill., or, Augustin Duncan, 50 West 12th St., New York City.
Amateur performances of the Masque may also be given after June 1st, without the aid of the professional company, by making proper arrangements for securing permission. Full directions for amateur performances, or for public readings where seats are sold, may be had from Miss Alice Houston, National Headquarters, Drama League of America, Chicago, Ill.
The Drama League of America strongly recommends to its centres the use of the Masque as the special League reading for April. The text will be available in two editions: Paper at 50 cents and Cloth at $1.25 or thereabouts.
The Drama League hopes to establish in the near future a _Pageant Series_, similar to the _Play Series_, of which “Caliban” by Mr. MacKaye would be the first volume.
_REMEMBER THESE POINTS_
“_CALIBAN: BY THE YELLOW SANDS_” By Percy MacKaye. A National tribute to Shakespeare for 1916. Endorsed by the Drama League of America.
_FIRST PERFORMANCE_ New York, May 23d, by citizens and notable group of professional actors.
_RELEASED FOR GENERAL USE_ June 1st. Acting rights may be secured as indicated below:—
_PERFORMANCES BY COMMUNITIES OR CLUBS WITH PROFESSIONAL COMPANY_ Full particulars may be had by addressing Miss Alice M. Houston, Chairman Circuit Committee, Drama League of America, 1426 Forest Ave., Evanston, Ill.
_ALL-AMATEUR PERFORMANCES_ Full particulars may be had by addressing Miss Clara Fitch, Chairman Shakespeare Tercentenary Committee, 736 Marquette Bldg., Chicago, Ill.
_PUBLIC READINGS WHERE SEATS ARE SOLD_ For particulars address Miss Houston (as above).
_THE PRINTED BOOK OF THE MASQUE_ Paper edition 50 cents. Cloth edition $1.25 net. For sale everywhere at book shops or by Doubleday, Page & Company, Garden City, New York.
New York City Shakespeare Tercentenary Celebration
CIVIC ORGANIZATION
MISS MARY PORTER BEEGLE, _Chairman_
MRS. AXEL O. IHLSENG, _Executive Secretary_ 10 EAST 43D STREET, NEW YORK CITY Telephone, Murray Hill 9745
_Supplementary Celebrations_ _Chairman of Finance_ MISS KATE OGLEBAY, _Chairman_ MR. W. FORBES MORGAN, JR. MISS FERN CLAWSON, _Vice-Chairman_ _Executive Chairman_ MR. EVERARD THOMPSON _Advisory on Forms of Celebrations_ _Masque Committee Chairman_ MISS JOSEPHINE BEIDERHASE MRS. SIMEON FORD MISS FRANCES E. CLARKE _Music_ MR. ARTHUR FARWELL MR. HARRY BIRNBAUM MR. WM. CHAUNCY LANGDON MISS AZUBAH LATHAM _Organizing Director of the Masque_ MISS CONSTANCE MACKAY Mr. GARNET HOLME Telephone, Greeley 1137
Board of Directors PROF. ALLAN ABBOTT DR. GEORGE F. KUNZ MISS MARY PORTER BEEGLE HOWARD KYLE DR. WILLIAM E. BOHN MISS OLIVIA LEVENTRITT CRANSTON BRENTON MRS. PHILIP M. LYDIG JOHN COLLIER W. FORBES MORGAN, JR. MISS LAURA SEDGWICK COLLINS MRS. M. FAIRCHILD OSBORN MRS. AUGUST DREYER MISS FLORENCE OVERTON MAX EASTMAB REV. DR. JOSEPH SILVERMAN MRS. WILLIAM EINSTEIN PROF. EDMUND BRONK SOUTHWICK MRS. SIMEON FORD MR. M. J. STROOCK MRS. DANIEL GUGGENHEIM MR. EVERARD THOMPSON MRS. J. NORMAN DE R. WHITEHOUSE
THE SHAKESPEARE CELEBRATION
will present in the Lewisohn Stadium of the College of the City of New York on the nights of May 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 1916, at Eight O’clock
_The Community Masque_
CALIBAN By the Yellow Sands
PRODUCTION STAFF
_Author and Director_ PERCY MACKAYE
_Composer and Director of Music_ ARTHUR FARWELL
_Producers_ JOSEPH URBAN RICHARD ORDYNSKI
_Designer of Inner Scenes_ ROBERT EDMOND JONES
_Director of Interludes_ GARNET HOLME
_Director of Costumes_ MRS. JOHN W. ALEXANDER
_Director of Dances_ MRS. ROBERT ANDERSON
_Staff Assistant_ HAZEL MACKAYE
Office of the Director: 529 Marbridge Bldg. (34th St. & 6th Ave.); telephone, Greeley 1137.
For particulars regarding Tickets, etc., communication should be made with the office of the Shakespeare Celebration, 10 East 43d St., New York. Telephones, Murray Hill 9745 and 4158.
THE MAYOR’S HONORARY COMMITTEE For the New York Shakespeare Celebration OTTO H. KAHN, _Chairman_.
HERBERT ADAMS REV. JOHN HAYNES HOLMES DR. FELIX ADLER FREDERIC C. HOWE JACOB P. ADLER ARTHUR CURTISS JAMES JOHN G. AGAR MRS. PAUL KENNADAY ROBERT AITKEN DR. J. J. KINDRED WINTHROP AMES DARWIN P. KINGSLEY DONN BARBER LEE KOHNS JOSEPH BARONDESS DR. GEORGE F. KUNZ MRS. AUGUST BELMONT THOMAS W. LAMONT GUTZON BORGLUM DR. HENRY M. LEIPSIGER CHANCELLOR ELMER E. BROWN ADOLPH LEWISOHN HENRY BRUERE M. J. LAVELLE, V.G. ARNOLD BRUNNER WALTER LIPPMANN PRES. NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER PHILIP LYDIG ABRAHAM CAHAN CLARENCE H. MACKAY MRS. WILLIAM ASTOR CHANDLER MISS ELIZABETH MARBURY WILLIAM M. CHASE EDWIN MARKHAM JOSEPH H. CHOATE MISS HELEN MAROT THOMAS W. CHURCHILL DR. BRANDER MATTHEWS PAUL D. CRAVATH REV. HOWARD MELISH JOHN D. CRIMMINS DR. APPLETON MORGAN GEORGE CROMWELL J. P. MORGAN R. FULTON CUTTING DR. HENRY MOSKOWITZ WALTER DAMROSCH ADOLPH S. OCHS R. S. DAVIS RALPH PULITZER HENRY P. DAVISON PERCY R. PYNE, 2d ROBT. W. DE FOREST W. C. REICK MRS. CAMDEN C. DIKE ELIHU ROOT A. J. DITTENHOEFER EDWARD A. RUMELY CLEVELAND H. DODGE JACOB M. SCHIFF CAROLINE B. DOW MORTIMER L. SCHIFF FRANK L. DOWLING JAMES SPEYER MRS. H. EDWARD DREIER FRANCIS LYNDE STETSON MAX EASTMAN FREDERIC A. STOKES SAMUEL H. EVINS J. G. PHELPS STOKES JOHN H. FINLEY JOSEF STRANSKY NED ARDEN FLOOD OSCAR S. STRAUS DANIEL C. FRENCH AUGUSTUS THOMAS CHARLES DANA GIBSON LOUIS UNTERMEYER BERTRAM C. GOODHUE MRS. WILLIAM K. VANDERBILT RT. REV. DAVID H. GREER OSWALD GARRISON VILLARD JULES GUERIN MISS LILLIAN D. WALD MRS. DANIEL GUGGENHEIM DR. JAMES J. WALSH MRS. BENJAMIN GUINESS CABOT WARD NORMAN HAPGOOD J. ALDEN WEIR MRS. J. BORDEN HARRIMAN CHARLES D. WETMORE WILLIAM LAUREL HARRIS EDWARD J. WHEELER COL. GEORGE HARVEY F. W. WHITRIDGE TIMOTHY HEALY THOMAS W. WHITTLE A. BARTON HEPBURN GEORGE WICKERSHAM MORRIS HILLQUIT WILLIAM G. WILLCOX JAMES P. HOLLAND DR. STEPHEN S. WISE H. J. WRIGHT
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS GARDEN CITY, N. Y.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The words of Shakespeare used in this Masque, are quoted from the Tudor Edition of Shakespeare’s Works, edited by Neilson and Thorndike (Macmillan). The stage directions and cuts, however, are not taken from any edition, but have been made by me for purposes of the Inner Scenes.
[2] In this book these Inner Scenes are printed in black-faced type.
[3] This is the motive of Mr. Robert Edmond Jones’ cover design for this volume.
[4] An outline of suggestions on this subject I published in a volume, “The Civic Theatre, in Relation to the Redemption of Leisure” [1912]. Further ideas and their applications are contained in the prefaces and dramatic texts of my Bird Masque “Sanctuary,” “Saint Louis: A Civic Masque,” and “The New Citizenship,” a Civic Ritual.
[5] The outgoing cost of the Saint Louis production was $122,000; the income $139,000. The balance of $17,000 has been devoted to a fund for civic art. The cost of producing a single play by Sophocles at Athens was $500,000.
[6] Page 71, on Constructive Leisure (Mitchell Kennerley, 1912).
[7] New York, 1915, Macmillan.
[8] See Appendix, page 154.
[9] The Masque Proper consists of the Prologue and Three Acts, without the Inner Scenes and the Epilogue and Interludes.
[10] Visualized by a Super-puppet.
[11] Visualized by an idol.
[12] See Appendix: Pages 207-216.
[13] The more detailed description of this Interlude is given in the Appendix, pages 162 to 183.
[14]
“The barge she sat in, like a burnish’d throne, Burn’d on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them. The oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke.... For her own person, It beggar’d all description: she did lie In her pavilion—cloth-of-gold of tissue— O’er-picturing that Venus where we see The fancy out-work nature. On each side her Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With diverse-color’d fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool.... Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i’ the eyes, And made their bends adornings. At the helm A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs.” —[_Antony and Cleopatra_: II, 2. Shakespeare.]
The charm and splendor of this description applies here only to the beauty of the barge and those it bears: otherwise Cleopatra and her attendants are, in their appearance, distraught and fearful, and the barge shows signs of recent perilous escape from the scene of Antony’s sea-battle with Octavius Cæsar.
Being here conceived as a plastic vision in the mind of Prospero, this Inner Scene—an excerpt from Act III, Scene XI, of Shakespeare’s play—has, by dramatic license appropriate to this masque, been laid in a scene suggested by the above description of the barge.
[15] During this scene, Caliban—watching intently—slides from the steps of the throne and crawls slowly forward on his stomach to the centre, where he lies prone, with head lifted—his body pointed toward the Inner stage—kicking at times his lower legs [from the knees] in the air.
[16] For fuller description of this Interlude, see Appendix, pages 184-194.
[17] From Shakespeare’s “King Henry the Eighth,” Act I, Scene 1.
[18] From Shakespeare’s “King Henry the Eighth,” Act I, Scene 1.
[19] See Appendix, pages 196-204, for more detailed description.
[20] For details of these Epilogue groups, see Appendix, pages 205-216.
[21] The plan for this India episode is based on a ritual scene of the ancient Hindu drama “Shakuntala,” by Kalidasa, translated by Garnet Holme and Arthur W. Ryder, and recently produced by the authors in California. The translation is published by University of California Press, Berkeley, 1914. Those communities that may desire to include this Action in their local festivals should communicate with Mr. Garnet Holme, care of The Shakespeare Celebration, 10 East 43rd Street, New York City.
[22] The revolving of the disk, of course, is apparent only, not real. Actually, the disk remains motionless; it appears to revolve because of the motion of the Priests around it.
[23] See “Kings and Gods of Egypt,” Alexandre Moret; pp. 69-108.
[24] Similarly before each of the Actions of each Interlude, Prospero makes a brief explanatory comment to Ariel (and thus to the audience).
[25] The Choregus was the Producer, usually a man of great wealth.
[26] In one hand Pantomimus carries a wand resembling a caduceus, but differing from that of Mercury in that the heads of the twining snakes are carved as little masks of comedy, and the tip of the wand, to which the flying wings are affixed, is the shining disk of a mirror, into which at times Pantomimus peers quaintly at his reflection.
[27] The Pantomime is adapted from a Roman Interlude by the author in his drama “Sappho and Phaon.”
[28] This Theme inheres in an excerpt from Shakespeare’s “King Henry VIII,” Act I, Scene I, quoted by Ariel as Prologue to the Sixth Inner Scene of the Masque, for which the actual dialogue of no Shakespeare Scene dealing with France appears so appropriate for the Masque’s uses as a pantomime based on this excerpt from Henry VIII.
[29] The words _Winter_ and _Spring_ refer to the respective Groups.
[30] The water is represented by the blue ground, beyond the verge of the Yellow Sands.
[31] Here the play-actors enact a scene from the old play of “Noah’s Flood.”
[32] The Action here described, like that of all the preceding Interludes, is simply a preliminary outline, subject to modification and development at rehearsals.
[33] With this number several hundred of the Interlude participants and Masque figurants are to be correlated in the final ensemble.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Underscores “_” before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_ in the original text. Small capitals have been converted to SOLID capitals. Illustrations have been moved so they do not break up paragraphs. Typographical errors have been silently corrected but other variations in spelling and punctuation remain unaltered.
End of Project Gutenberg's Caliban by the Yellow Sands, by Percy MacKaye