Why the Chimes Rang: A Play in One Act
Chapter 2
(_As they have been talking together, the fire on the hearth has burned itself out and the shadows in the room have crept forward and closed around them till only a faint outline of_ HOLGER _and the_ WOMAN _can be distinguished in the glimmer of moonlight shining through the window nearby. There is a long pause broken only by the boy's sobbing which gradually sinks to silence. As he prays, a faint light begins to grow behind him. The smoke-grimed back wall of the hut has vanished and in its place appears a vision of the cathedral chancel.--One by one objects emerge from the darkness. The light touches the golden altar, the gleaming appointments upon it, the jewel-like tones of the stained glass window above, and the rich carpet under foot; it shows the marble arches at the sides and shines softly on the robe of the kneeling_ PRIEST. _As the dim vision grows to clearness, so the music comes nearer and swells forth softly into the Christmas processional. Unconscious of it all_ HOLGER _looks up at the_ WOMAN, _his face swept with despair_.)
HOLGER. Oh, it's no use! I'd rather be all blind and never see than miss the vision that the Christ will send!
WOMAN. (_Gazing at the vision_) Look, look what comes!
HOLGER. (_Staring at the woman's face illuminated by the light from the chancel_) Dame! (_He turns to see where the light comes from and the vision meets his eye_) Oh-h-h-h! (_He crouches back at the_ WOMAN'S _feet, held spell-bound by the sight. As the music changes the_ PRIEST _rises slowly to his feet, faces the congregation and makes a gesture of approach. The voices of the choir join the music, and from the left side of the chancel, people begin to enter carrying their gifts_)
(_An imperious looking man, richly dressed in black and gold comes first, bearing a heavy box. He approaches the altar, kneels and puts the chest in the_ PRIEST'S _hands, and, that the full value of his gift may be publicly recognised, he throws back the lid, heaping up the gold coin with which the box is filled. The_ PRIEST _turns, goes up the steps to the altar and raises the chest as high as its weight will permit. The man still kneeling awaits the chimes with superb selfconfidence. The bells do not ring. Slowly the_ PRIEST _lowers the gold to the altar, turns, raises his hand in blessing and dismissal. The rich man rises, looking bewildered at his failure, crosses to the right and stands near the altar as the pageant moves on._)
(_The_ PRIEST _turns to the next comer_, A COURTIER _brave in green and gold, who enters with an air of great elegance, bearing daintily a gilded jewel casket. He kneels, lays it in the_ PRIEST'S _hands. The latter turns to go but the_ COURTIER _detains him a second, raises the lid of the box and holds up string after string of rich gems. The_ PRIEST _carries the jewels to the altar and offers them. The bells do not ring. The_ PRIEST _dismisses the_ COURTIER, _and the young man rises, turns back with assumed lightness of manner and stands at the left of the chancel, watching with great interest._)
(_A beautiful_ WOMAN _clad in flame colored velvet sweeps proudly up to the steps of the altar, kneels, takes from her neck a long strand of pearls and offers it to the_ PRIEST. _The_ PRIEST _receives the necklace, ascends to the altar and offers the jewels. The woman smiling listens tensely for the chimes. They do not ring. The smile fades as the_ PRIEST _turns and blesses her. She rises trying to hide her chagrin in a look of great hauteur, crosses to the right and stands near the man in black and gold with whom she exchanges disdainful smiles over the next arrival._)
(_An old white haired man clad in a scholar's robes totters on, bearing with difficulty a large vellum bound book. The_ PRIEST _takes a step forward to relieve the Old Man of his burden, and as he goes up the altar steps the Sage sinks exhausted to his knees, listening with straining senses for the bells.--They do not ring. The_ PRIEST _blesses the old man and helps him to rise. He turns back and stands near the_ COURTIER _at the left._)
(_A lovely young girl enters, dressed in pale green satin, her arms filled with a sheaf of white lilies. The very way she carries them and bends her head to catch their fragrance shows that to her they are the most beautiful things in the world. Kneeling she gives them into the hands of the_ PRIEST, _and as he offers them, she listens with childish confidence for the ringing of the bells.--Still there is no sound save the organ music and the singing of the choir, subdued almost to a breath as the gifts are offered. Abashed as the_ PRIEST _blesses and dismisses her, the young girl steps back and stands near the old Sage._)
(_There is a stir in the chancel, even the_ PRIEST _turning to watch. The_ KING _enters. He is a man of forty with tall distinguished figure and a proud face. His purple robes, richly jeweled, trail far behind him and on his head he wears his crown. Everyone leans forward watching with the greatest tension. The_ KING, _exalted with his mood of selfsacrifice kneels, removes his crown and lays it in the hands of the_ PRIEST. HOLGER _crouching in the shadow quivers with anticipation. Again the pantomime of hope and failure. The_ PRIEST _turns back to the_ KING _and raises his arm in the customary gesture. The_ KING _starts to rise then suddenly as though overcome at this spiritual defeat sinks again to his knees before the altar and buries his face in his hands, praying. The_ PRIEST _stands with arms crossed upon his breast, regarding him sorrowfully._)
HOLGER. (_Overwhelmed with disappointment, softly to the woman_) Perhaps there are no chimes, perhaps the Christ hears us not!
WOMAN. Have faith,--have faith in God.
HOLGER. I would that I could give my pennies to the Child.
(_The_ KING _rises from his prayer and goes sadly to the right, standing near the lady in red._)
WOMAN. (_In a low ringing voice that thrills like the call of a trumpet_) Go up, my son,--fear not--The Christ-Child waits for all!
(HOLGER _breathless with the adventure rises and goes timidly forward out of the gloom of the hut into the splendor of the chancel, looking very small and poorly dressed beside all the great ones. He holds out his pennies to the_ PRIEST _who bends and takes them with a tender little smile, and_ HOLGER, _crossing himself, too abashed to stand and wait, shrinks back into the darkness and the sheltering arms of the Woman._)
(_The_ PRIEST _goes up the steps of the altar and holds the pennies high above his head in consecrating gesture, and as he does so, the organ music breaks off with an amazed suddenness for from above there comes the far triumphant ringing of the chimes, mingled with ethereal voices singing The Alleluia._)
(_A wave of awe sweeps over everyone in the chancel and as the_ PRIEST _wheels and gestures them to their knees, they prostrate themselves quickly._ HOLGER, _too, kneels awe-struck but the woman rises to her full height and stands watching. From this time on, she withdraws gradually into the deeper shadows of the hut and is seen no more._)
(_As they all kneel the Angel enters from the right, ascends the steps of the altar and stands beside the huddled figure of the_ PRIEST. _As she stands there, a single pencil of light shines down upon her from above, a ray of light so brilliant that everything around seems dull in comparision, and while she gives her message, the light above grows till it floods her hair and garments with a miraculous radiance. The_ ANGEL _smiles at_ HOLGER _and chants in a lovely voice._)
ANGEL. Verily, verily, I say unto you, it is not gold nor silver nor rich pearls but love and selfsacrifice that please the Lord. The Christ-Child was hungered and you gave him meat,--a stranger and you took Him in.
HOLGER. (_In an awed tone_) But I--I have not seen the Christ-Child.
ANGEL. Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of the least of these His Brethern, you have done it unto Him! (_The_ ANGEL _stands with one hand uplifted, as the music rises in a great crescendo of triumph_. HOLGER, _quite overcome, drops his face in his hands and as the climax of the singing is reached, the whole tableau is held for a moment, then blotted out in darkness_.)
(_There is a pause, then the light on the hearth flares up revealing the boy alone, still on his knees, looking up bewildered at the back wall of the hut, where the vision had been. Swiftly he rises to his feet and turns to face the Woman._)
HOLGER. Dame,--dame!--The Chimes,--the star--did you see? (_She is gone, he stares about him looking for her_) Gone! Gone! (_The music still rings softly_) But the Chimes! (_He turns, runs to the window, and flings open the casement. A soft light, half moonlight, half something more luminous pours in upon him. He speaks in a tone of infinite happiness, looking upward_) The stars!--God's Chimes!
THE CURTAIN FALLS SLOWLY.
THE APPENDIX
The accompanying scenery plates are not intended to be followed in all their elaborate detail but merely to give an idea of the effect to be worked toward in planning the scenery.
APPENDIX.
The following suggestions for a simplified staging of "Why The Chimes Rang" are offered, not to college dramatic societies or other expert amateurs but to the many young people in the secondary schools, Sunday schools and country districts, who would enjoy staging short plays if it could be done without elaborate scenery or lighting equipment and without previous experience in stage management.
Simplicity aided by imagination goes far upon the stage, and it should always be remembered that the real aim is the creation of a given emotion in the minds of the audience rather than the creation of a given thing upon the stage. If a circle of gilt paper on the head of a fine looking lad can create a vivid impression of kingly dignity, all the crown jewels of Europe cannot better the paper for stage purposes.
In producing a play, it should first be carefully read to see what main impression is to be conveyed, and what chief elements are to be emphasized to make up this impression. The details can then be worked out in harmony with the more important factors.
In "Why The Chimes Rang," religious exaltation is the mood to be created, and the divine beauty of charity is the main theme.
Three sharply contrasted effects are called for: the wood-chopper's hut, dark and humble; and, set against this, the earthly splendor of the cathedral chancel, which in its turn is dimmed by the miraculous presence of the angel.
It is expected that this play will be adapted, by those giving it, to the form and degree of ritual desired. Censers and candles may be used or not, altar appointments and priestly vestments may be chosen to suit the taste of those concerned. Indeed, in all respects, a play must be suited to the conditions under which it is presented and the audience before whom it is given; and while the text may not be altered or added to, lines may be omitted if desired.
The information here given has been gathered from frequent working over of the material but at best it can only help in a general way. Any one producing a play must work out his own problems in detail. One of the things that makes the staging of plays such fascinating work is the exercise it affords the imagination in overcoming obstacles.
SCENERY
SCENERY.
For the sake of facing the most difficult form of the problem of amateur staging, let us suppose that this play is to be given in a parlor or hall, without platform, without proscenium arch or curtains, with the walls, floor and ceiling of such material and finish that no nails may be driven into them, and that the depth of the stage is only nine feet. It looks hopeless but it can be done.
Under such conditions the only possible form of scenery is the screen. If the "scenery-man" is a bit of a carpenter, he can build the screens himself, making them as strong and as light as possible, with four leaves a few inches shorter than the height of the room in which they are to be used, and proportionately wide.--The framework should be braced by cross pieces in the middle of each leaf, and should have stout leather handles nailed to them for convenience in lifting the screen. The right side should be covered with canvas such as is used for scenery, and the screens can then be easily repainted or recovered for later plays.
If it is not possible to have the screens made to order, ordinary Japanese screens may be borrowed or rented, and made to serve as front curtain, and framework for scenery.
Those indicated in the plan as A A and B B serve as the front curtains, the center sections (marked B B) being drawn aside by persons stationed behind them to show the interior of the hut when the play begins. The four screens marked C D and E E form the walls of the hut. In using screens it will be necessary to do without the window and the actual door unless the person in charge of the scenery is clever enough to paint in a window on one panel of the screen and make a door in another. If not, turn the end panel of the screen marked C to run at right angles with the other part, giving the impression of a passage with an imagined door at the unseen end, and wherever in the business of the parts, the children are said to look out of the window, let them instead look down this passage, as though they were looking through the open doorway.
On the right side of the room in the screen marked D, a fire-place may be constructed by cutting away a portion of the screen to suggest the line of the fire-place, putting back of this opening a box painted black inside to represent the blackened chimney, and finishing with a rough mantel stained brown to match the wall tint. Of course if the screens are borrowed the fire-place will have to be dispensed with.
At the moment when the vision of the cathedral is to appear, the screens marked E E are parted and folded back disclosing the chancel. Perhaps some church nearby has stored in its basement an old stained glass window, which may be borrowed and used as background for the church scene. Such a window was used in a performance of "Much Ado About Nothing" given some years ago at one of the Eastern colleges. It was dimly lit from behind by electric globes and proved very successful in creating a churchly atmosphere. If this can not be done, cover two of the tallest possible screens with any rich sombre colored drapery and stand them against the back wall. In the Los Angeles production, the chancel was represented by a curtain of black velvet, flanked by two silver pillars, between them the altar. Black makes an exceedingly rich and effective foil for bright colored costumes. Whatever is used for backing in the chancel can be masked if unsatisfactory by Christmas greens, which should be arranged in long vertical lines that carry the eye up as high as possible and give a sense of dignity, or in the Gothic curves suggestive of church architecture.
Against this background, and in the center of the space, place the altar. This can be made of a packing box painted gold or covered with suitable hangings. In one performance of this play a sectional bookcase which stood in the room was hung with purple cheese cloth and served as an altar. Should the stage space be deep enough broad steps before the shrine will give an added height to the priest and the angel.
If it is possible to have real scenery the most illusive method of revealing and hiding the chancel is to have the back of the hut painted on a gauze drop, which is backed by a black curtain. At the cue for showing the chancel the lights in front of the gauze go out leaving the stage dark, then the black opaque curtain is rolled up or drawn aside and as the light is slowly turned on the chancel, the vision begins to take form through the gauze, the latter becoming invisible and transparent when there is no light in front of it. The gauze prevents Holger from actually placing the pennies in the priest's hand but if the two approach the gauze as though it were not there, and stretch out their hands so that they seem to touch, the priest being provided with additional pennies which he holds up at the altar, no one in the audience would guess that the coins had not been given him by the child.
Very few halls ostensibly built to house amateur play-giving are adequate for the purpose.--Often the stage is merely a shallow platform without curtains to separate the actors from the audience, and the ceiling and walls surrounding the stage are so finished that the necessary screws for hanging curtains, may not be driven into them. The amateur manager reaches the depths of despair when he finds that even the floor of the shallow platform offered him, is of polished hardwood and may not be marred by the screws of stage braces.
Amateurs who have any voice in the preparation of the stage being built for them, should urge the following specifications:
1. The ceiling of the stage to be at least twice as high as the proscenium arch.
2. The depth of the stage to be at least fifteen feet, deeper if the size of the place permits.
3. The flooring, walls and ceiling of the stage to be of soft wood, into which nails and screws may be driven; or if the main construction is of brick, concrete or metal, some inner wooden scaffolding or other overhead rigging capable of supporting scenery should be provided.
4. There should be some space on both sides of the stage for keeping scenery and properties to be used later in the play, and as a waiting place for actors temporarily off the stage. The platform forming the stage proper should be continued over these wings so that actors leaving the scene may walk off on a level and not seem to plunge cellarward in making their exits.
LIGHTING.
The important thing to be remembered about the lighting is the crescendo of light which occurs as the play runs its course. First the dim little hut so lit by the firelight, that the expressions on the faces of the actors can just be seen without straining the eyes of the audience. Then the rich but subdued lighting of the chancel and finally the brilliant radiance shining on the angel.
Experiments with electricity should not be attempted by persons who do not understand its use, but if there is a competent electrician in the group putting on the play, use electric lighting by all means. No other form of light is so easily controlled or begins to give such effects for stage purposes.
The problems of theater lighting differ with each set of conditions and the best results can only be obtained by actual experiment with the means at hand. Do not feel that because you are an amateur, working with limited equipment, real beauty is beyond you. I have seen a stage picture approaching a Rembrandt in its charm of coloring and skilful use of shadows, created on a tiny stage with few appliances by an amateur who understood his lights.
If electricity is to be had, use three or four incandescent globes for the fire on the hearth, arranging logs of wood around them to simulate a fire. Additional lights as needed can be placed at the side off stage, or in the footlights; or better, if the stage has a real proscenium these supplementary lights can be put in a "trough" that protects and intensifies them and hung overhead in the center against the back of the proscenium arch.
As all these lights are to give a firelight effect, the incandescent globes should be dipped in a rich amber shade of coloring medium which may be bought at any electrical supply house for sixty cents per half pint. If gas or oil is used a firelight effect can be obtained by slipping amber gelatine screens in front of the lamps. These "gelatines" are about two feet square and cost only ten cents apiece.
If the fire-place cannot be made, then a charcoal brazier will serve as an excuse for light and give a sense of warmth to the scene. The brazier can easily be made by any tinsmith from a piece of sheet iron supported on three legs, and there is an illustration of it in the right hand corner of the accompanying scenery plate.--An electric torch or even an ordinary lantern can be slipped inside the little stove to give out a faint glow. A piece of one of the amber screens put over the torch or lantern will warm the light and the brazier can be placed anywhere in the hut.
The chancel may be lighted by a number of incandescent bulbs hidden at the sides of the scene, with the light so shielded that it shines on the altar and not into the hut. An especially effective place to put a strong light is inside the box representing the altar, with a hole cut in the top of the box so that the light shines up, giving a central radiance to the appointments of the altar and throwing into prominence the face and costume of each person who approaches it. If any of this light seems glaring it can be softened and diffused by masking it with amber or straw colored cheesecloth.
Some form of search light is practically a necessity for producing the heavenly radiance that shines upon the angel. If procurable, a "baby spot light" is the best appliance, but lacking this, an automobile lamp and its battery can be used.
It is important that all light in the hut should go out when the vision of the chancel appears so that the hut becomes merely an inner proscenium or dark frame around the rich picture of the altar. This of course does not mean that the lantern in the brazier need be extinguished as the light given by that is negligible.
After the angel ceases speaking the tableau of the altar scene should be held as the music grows louder and louder through the final crescendo; then, when the final note has been sung, blot out the stage by extinguishing all lights. Give a moment of darkness during which the back wall of the hut is replaced, and the old woman slips out of the nearest opening in the scenery. Then turn on the front lights which illuminated the hut during the first part of the play.
MUSIC.
The three pieces of music required for this play are as follows:
"The Sleep of the Child Jesus" part song for mixed voices by F.A. Gevaert.
Eightfold Alleluia composed for "Why the Chimes rang" by Percy Lee Atherton.
These two pieces come published together in a special edition for use with this play by The Boston Music Company. Price 15 cents per copy, postpaid.
The bell movement (in five flats) (Postlude) by J. Guy Ropartz. Published by The Boston Music Company. Price 30 cents per copy, postpaid.
For all the music, address The Boston Music Company, 116 Boylston Street, Boston, Mass.