Act 1 - Scene 3

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_ ACT I - SCENE III

[Courtiers entering. A lady looking through her lorgnette.]

A LADY.
I hope this is not going to be too boring.

3D COURTIER
Ah, that, Madame, is the pleasure-seeker's prayer. Save me this night from being bored to death.

2D COURTIER
[a great dandy]

I hope they have enchanting costumes, and that they are well perfumed.

[He smells a scrap of lace.]

LADY.
I hear he is remarkable.

2D COURTIER.
Who?

LADY.
The mountebank, I forget his name. He has a Latin name besides, which I forget also, but they say that when he appears....

COURT USHER
[announces]

The Queen.

[The Queen arrives surrounded by a brilliant court. JOSEPHINE attends her, dressed entirely in silver and wearing immense emeralds. Her hair is very formally powdered, and she wears a cherry-coloured cloak. A coloured slave in black moire carries her train.]

QUEEN.
I am not in a mood for laughing tonight. [She glances at Josephine.] At any rate it is always singularly depressing to go anywhere in order to laugh. And if this clown causes me even to smile he shall have some rare reward.

[Seats herself upon a raised dais. Courtiers group themselves around her. Most of the ladies have seats. Many of the gentlemen sit at their feet.]

JOSEPHINE.
[Listlessly fluttering her fan; she is on the left of the QUEEN and near the audience.]

How tedious! For what are they delaying?

PRINCE
[standing over her]

We are scarcely seated.

JOSEPHINE.
Waiting is so tedious. It puts me in a bad humour, and I lose my enthusiasm.

PRINCE.
Before you have quite found it, eh?

[A gong sounds. Two stalwart men move the cart to left centre of stage; with a click the sides of the carriage are flung open and a stage about twelve feet wide and four feet above the ground appears. In the back is a green curtain, ornamented with constellations. Suddenly a grotesque figure completely hooded and masked, attended by two small drummer boys, makes its appearance. The figure squats upon the floor in direct centre of stage. The drummers seat themselves beside it and all three begin to play; the attendants upon their drums, the centre figure upon a flute. No human part of him can be seen, save his hands which are remarkably beautiful, sensitive and pallid. He moves them with extraordinary grace. He plays upon his flute an air from India. Suddenly upon the stage above him appears a Hindu girl. She executes a sinuous pantomimic dance of youth and desire. The figure playing upon the flute gradually turns his back to the audience and facing the dancer continues to play. Finally the dancer, noticing her admirer, commences to dance for him alone. The music becomes more breathless; the hooded figure plays a screaming tone upon his flute. Immediately a third slave, attired as a drummer, rushes out and catches his flute from the green masque, who jumps upon the stage, and seizing the dancer, savagely--gracefully, about her slim waist, dances with her, at once tenderly and primitively.]

QUEEN.
What agility and strength the man has got. He has made me catch my breath already, which is far better than to laugh.

JOSEPHINE.
He dances like a demon over burning altars.

PRINCE.
What was that, Josephine?

JOSEPHINE.
Don't distract my attention.

PRINCE.
[laughing]

Attention? Attention? Why, Josephine, I never knew that gift was among your talents!

JOSEPHINE.
Sh! Sh!

[During the dance, the Hindu girl becomes more and more enamoured of her partner, who eludes and attacks her in a perfect frenzy of grace and passion. Finally she tries to unmask him or to pull off his cloak, without success. A chime is heard. The drummers play a strange, sinister march. An old man enters--the slave owner. He sees his slave in the arms of one whom she obviously loves, and rushes at the masked figure with his sword. At this the green mask flings the girl away from him, tears off his mask, throws open his coat and stands revealed before the slave owner, but with his back to the audience. The man is about to let fall his sword when he looks upon what he is about to kill. Gradually his jaw drops with amazement and he lets out a terrible yell of laughter. The slave girl who has stood watching him, now creeps round to see what is causing him so much mirth, and gazing up suddenly into the face of her partner utters a shriek of horror and runs from the stage. The slave owner follows her, his sides shaking with laughter. The figure stands rigidly transfixed, his back still to the audience.]

JOSEPHINE.
[leaning forward eagerly]

What can he be like! I wish he would turn round.

PRINCE.
You seem interested, Josephine. Do these wretched mummers really ...

[But JOSEPHINE is leaning forward intently for the music has begun again. This time the figure is doing a strange dance of loneliness and search for his departed partner, his mask lies upon the ground, but he shields himself with his cloak. Occasionally in the wildness of his dance it slips a little, permitting glimpses of parts of his face.]

QUEEN.
[suddenly in a tone of fright]

What is it the man has upon his face? Is it a great scar?

JOSEPHINE.
No! No! It is his mouth that is like that.

[Her excitement is obviously gathering to an almost unbearable point as the dance proceeds. In a low voice:]

Oh, he is deformed, he is terribly deformed, his shoulders are not abreast of one another. Or is it some devil's head squatting upon his body of an angel.

A VOICE.
No, it is his legs; they are bent in opposite directions.

A VOICE.
No wonder the lady will not come back to him!

[GWYMPLANE'S dance seems to be reaching a climax; he has nosed about the floor like a dog; he has tried to leap over the roof in order to discover his lost sweetheart, and now he turns facing the audience, his arms outstretched in pitiful dejection. There is an instant's deep silence, and then a great laugh rings out from the audience. The QUEEN herself rocks to and fro, backward and forward behind her fan. JOSEPHINE starts forward, in her face a mixture of amusement, giving gradually way to some sinister thought which makes her gaze fixedly at the mountebank with parted lips. Her unswerving glance at length draws his eyes towards her and for one single instant their glances seem to pass through one another--the exquisite duchess, the grotesque clown. No one has seen the look, save PHEDRO, who wipes his lips with an expression of intense amusement. Suddenly from behind GWYMPLANE. steps DEA, and he returns with an almost imperceptible start to his act. Seeing this lovely apparition, he throws himself at her feet, and she, apparently perceiving him, does not repel him but puts her slim hands in his wild hair, and they go through some tender motions to an exquisite melody upon the flute. Gradually with gestures of pity and love she invites him to go with her, and he hardly believing is about to be led away, when suddenly the oriental melody begins again. The dancer appears. She glances at GWYMPLANE with the hypnotized fascination of utter horror. DEA attempts drawing GWYMPLANE away, but he resists, becoming again a victim to the old charm. The slave girl, with a wild gesture, offers herself to him. Simultaneously, DEA motions him with prayer to go with her. He makes some pitiful indecisive motions between them. DEA wrings her hands; the slave girl smiles; when, with a sudden gesture of despair, GWYMPLANE takes out his knife and makes a motion of cutting out his heart, then sinks upon the ground, and suddenly holds up his heart dripping with blood in his two pale hands. The slave girl tries to snatch it, but he gives it to DEA, who presses it against her own. GWYMPLANE breathes his last, and the slave, falling at the feet of DEA, licks the blood from the heart of her dancer off the floor.

Miniature curtain descends to some strange music recalling the chimes of a clock.]

QUEEN.
What an extraordinary pantomime! I think these mummers act too well. They will leave a memory, and I have far too many memories already.

JOSEPHINE.
[Trying to conceal the impression the play has made on her.]

I shall never have any memories. When the door closes I shall forget.

PRINCE.
Perhaps you are not so agile as you think. Something of you may catch in the door when it slams, and go on aching forever.

QUEEN
[tolerantly]

Inexperience can always afford to be a little ridiculous, can it not?

[rises]
Well, it has all been very entertaining. I have really immensely enjoyed myself.

[Turning to her courtiers and taking a brooch from her lace.]

I think we should give the clown some token of tonight's amusement.

[to a servant]
Go and tell Messire Gwymplane to attend us.

PRINCE.
The performance of this mountebank has agitated me.

[passing his hand over his brow.]
I want to forget something in motion, in motion.

JOSEPHINE.
[Looking at him and at the QUEEN, and twinkling with a sort of spiteful mischief.]

It will be delicious to dance tonight. The starving should dance, the replete should dream! Come!

[takes his arm]

PRINCE.
What an exquisite thing for you to say to me--just at this moment.

[QUEEN glances at them with an expression of pain and hatred. An attendant approaches the QUEEN, who breaks sharply out of her reverie.]

QUEEN.
You have not brought the clown?

ATTENDANT.
The owner of the van begs indulgence of your Majesty. The clown has wandered off somewhere, as is his habit, and cannot be found.

QUEEN.
How annoying! Well, the amusement I should have had in giving him this is really the only reason for such a gift.

[Replaces her brooch and turns to an attendant.]

Tell these mountebanks to leave the palace grounds before dawn.

ATTENDANT.
Yes, your Majesty.

[bows himself out]

JOSEPHINE.
I am glad he did not appear. He would have been horrible to look at closely.

PRINCE.
You are cold. Let me arrange your cloak more closely about your shoulders.

QUEEN.
Wrap my dear sister by all means, Charles, but if you can--from the inside out.

[Continues her conversation with a courtier.]

JOSEPHINE
[in a low voice]

How she dislikes me! But dislike is amusing when the hours are just ending that make one the slave of its temper.

PRINCE
[bending over her]

Tomorrow, Josephine.... Tomorrow you will be safe forever from her rudeness. She will need us; our united fortunes will be the bank for her gambling.

JOSEPHINE.
Ah! tomorrow--tomorrow!

QUEEN.
Josephine, take your prince and await me in the ballroom.

JOSEPHINE
[glancing toward the cart]

It is very pleasant here, your Majesty. The air is cool so far away from candlelight, and I have an inclination to headache.

QUEEN.
Why, a moment ago you said, "Let us dance," to which you added as your own a quotation from something you had read.

JOSEPHINE.
[Who has been edging nearer the cart and looking with curiosity about her.]

Idle people are moody, your Majesty, but if ...

QUEEN
[sharply]

It is my pleasure that you should await me in the ballroom.

JOSEPHINE.
Your Majesty....

[Bowing low and taking the arm of the PRINCE, looks up archly into his eyes.]

We will ask the musicians to play one of those new waltzes, that make me close my eyes quite up with delight.

[PRINCE gazing enraptured, leads her out.]

QUEEN.
[Furiously, turning to PHEDRO who has flitted in and out since the cessation of the performance, in a low voice.]

I would speak to you.
[to courtiers]
You are at liberty to precede me to the ballroom.

[Courtiers go out.]

QUEEN
[leaning against a balcony]

Ah, Phedro!

PHEDRO
[answering her tone]

My Majesty, my sovereign star.

QUEEN.
It is growing late and still nothing has been done. I cannot see that there is anything to do. Oh what discomfort!

PHEDRO.
Your Majesty's eyes are too full of pain to see clearly perhaps.

QUEEN.
I am obsessed by a dream, and in this dream my whole life lies snared and gasping.

[DEA appears in the background of the cart, arranging things for the night. PHEDRO glances at her quickly and then back at the QUEEN.]

PHEDRO.
There is a loose stone in every wall if one scratches long enough, yet in taking one's desire there may be surprises, unpleasant surprises.

QUEEN.
But if ever one clutches the echo of one's own heart, what difference if a pox of madness seize the whole world?

PHEDRO.
If you are willing to mean always what you feel now, your Majesty.

QUEEN.
Don't talk absurdly, Phedro. Always is never more than now. And now is ever a part of eternity. Ah, I will make you more than you would dare ask if there is something to be done and you do it. Only I would rather not know the means. I would rather not be mixed up in the brew or it might sicken me afterwards to drink--of the Spring of Life.

PHEDRO.
May I beg for the reason of my scheme to be left by your Majesty for a little?

QUEEN.
Yes, yes, I go, Phedro. Oh, I would not have this if I thought it would deprive him of anything he really wanted, but he is ephemeral, aesthetic--in fact, he is a poet and doesn't really care for people. It is only for what they can make him feel that he likes them. Ah, how fascinating it is in him to be like that!

[PHEDRO bows over her hand, and she goes out. Sound of DEA'S singing comes very near the stage. PHEDRO hides behind some tall shrubbery. DEA steps out, tenderly sniffing the air.]

DEA.
At last the Queen is gone; the night is mine. What a fragrance, what an exciting fragrance! It is as if all the rose petals in the world were fighting in the air!

PHEDRO.
[stepping out, masked]

Fighting in the air and in the dark, but that is human destiny, my dear young lady.

DEA.
[starting]

Who are you?

PHEDRO.
A deep and disinterested friend of yours.

DEA.
It is late.... I must be ...
[attempts to leave]

PHEDRO.
Tell me ... whom would you like to help most in the world?

DEA
[gaily and innocently]

Him whom I love most in the world.

PHEDRO.
Ah, that is Gwymplane.

DEA.
How did you guess?

PHEDRO.
You are too innocent to understand the keeping of secrets, but if you wish to render Gwymplane a service ...

DEA.
I should like to more than to live ...

PHEDRO.
Well, take this letter in your hands tonight ... to where I shall lead you, and give it to whom I shall appoint to receive it.

DEA.
But explain ...

PHEDRO.
There is little I may tell you, and much that you will have to believe. I know of Gwymplane unknown facts that would make him respected and rich to the end of his days, and of course you would not wish him always to remain a clown.

DEA.
I love him too much to detain him in the little area of my wishes. Yet why should I carry this note?

PHEDRO.
Because it must reach her Majesty by you before dawn.

DEA.
Her Majesty? Shall I approach her Majesty?

PHEDRO.
You will observe many distinguished persons tonight, and at close range.

DEA.
What shall I say?

PHEDRO.
That you know, that you carry proof that Gwymplane is fully entitled to all the immediate riches and respect this letter begs for him.

DEA.
Oh, it will be wonderful to tell the Queen that Gwymplane is entitled to immediate riches and respect. How happy he shall be made at my hands!

PHEDRO.
[half aside]

Just so much chance have any of us got at the hands of those who love us.

[Sound of a flute is heard.]

DEA.
Gwymplane is coming!

PHEDRO
[walking swiftly to DEA.]

Mind what I tell you. Walk, feel your way down this long avenue of cypress to your right, and stop at the first white marble door you touch upon your left. Wait there for me. When I come I shall imitate the call of a cuckoo in order that the attendants may open to us immediately.

[DEA goes out hurriedly. GWYMPLANE saunters in with his strange, twisted walk.]

PHEDRO.
You roam late in solitude among the damp grasses. Does that not make you too melancholy for jests?

GWYMPLANE.
My ability to jest was affixed upon me by the gods in one of their humorous moments; however, anything may be written in the parchment under the seal.

[He attempts to pass on.]

PHEDRO.
[intently regarding him]

You are a curious fellow.

GWYMPLANE.
I think it is you who are curious, sir.

PHEDRO.
Ah, that was spoken after the manner of your class.

GWYMPLANE.
My class, of mountebanks, you mean?

PHEDRO.
No, my meaning is gathering slowly. After all, rain does not pour from the clouds until there has been sufficient mist.

[GWYMPLANE looks at him intently, then once more attempts departure.]

PHEDRO.
One moment.

GWYMPLANE.
I beg you, sir, to let me pass. I am a prey tonight to reveries that make of me a dull companion.

PHEDRO
[experimentally]

A lady of the court was enraptured by your performance, a lady who for many years has been aware of nothing but herself.

GWYMPLANE
[starting almost imperceptibly]

I am glad if my performance pleased.

PHEDRO.
It did much more.

GWYMPLANE.
In the measure of amusement I may have caused I am not interested.

PHEDRO.
Nevertheless, it seemed to me that you were a little burned by the flame you cast out.

GWYMPLANE.
Ah, I see that you enjoy pursuing other people's business; consequently you free me from the necessity of listening to you.

PHEDRO
[assuming anger]

Come now, don't offend me. After all I am the steward of the Queen's court. It was I who obtained your licence to act in the palace grounds, and so apparently gratify a long-felt ambition of your lovely fellow artiste.

GWYMPLANE
[softened]

Ah--Dea, yes. She has always dreamed of playing in the palace park. No, I do not wish to be rude to you, but I beg of you to cease your gossip. My task was harder tonight than usual. I am perhaps overtired.

[He puts a hand to his head.]

PHEDRO.
Come, are you not a man? Is not the admiration of----

GWYMPLANE.
Do not talk to me of these things. Do not talk of these things, I beg of you.

[with a suggestion of sob in his voice]
I am not like other men.

[Unnoticed an equerry enters, and stands at PHEDRO'S side with a large, scented and sealed envelope.]

EQUERRY.
Your pardon, sirs.

PHEDRO.
[Going swiftly over to the equerry, and in a low aside.]

For whom is your letter?

EQUERRY.
[in a whisper]

For one Messire Gwymplane.

PHEDRO.
[attempts to take the letter]

I will see he gets it and reads it.

EQUERRY.
Who are you?

[PHEDRO. pulls up his mask.]
O, Messire Phedro.

[He bows low and hands him the note.]

PHEDRO.
[in a grand voice]

You may leave. I will deliver your note.

[then in a low voice for the equerry alone]
Wait behind the hedge and I will give you an answer.

[Exit equerry. GWYMPLANE starts to depart. PHEDRO puts his arm on his, detaining him, while he opens the letter and reads it. A smile of malicious joy crosses his countenance which he quickly cloaks with a look of alarm. He speaks aside:]

How strange this is! Strange as if a precious bird long waited for in the night were to suddenly fly down and peck at my very gun. However ...

[He returns to himself with a start, walks over to the hedge where the equerry is waiting for the reply.]

Say to her Grace that she is understood, and shall be almost instantly obeyed. [He turns to GWYMPLANE.]

GWYMPLANE.
I beg of you, sir, permit me to depart.

PHEDRO.
There is trouble abroad and it concerns you.

GWYMPLANE.
Me?

PHEDRO.
Still there is probably much time.

GWYMPLANE.
Explain.

PHEDRO.
What do you call the blind girl?

GWYMPLANE.
Dea. It is not anything about Dea? There was not anything about Dea in that letter, was there?

PHEDRO.
It was all about her.

GWYMPLANE.
How?

PHEDRO.
Listen. Instead of attending to this myself, as I have done in hundreds of similar cases, I am going to take you into my confidence.

GWYMPLANE.
What is it? What is it?

PHEDRO.
Your lovely fellow artiste is gone.

GWYMPLANE
[crying out]

Gone? My Dea! That is impossible. She does not wish to go anywhere that I am not.

PHEDRO.
Perhaps her wishes remained unconsulted. She may have been abducted.

GWYMPLANE
[drawing back]

What are you saying? It is so monstrous I must laugh or scream if I go on listening to you.

[shakes PHEDRO by the arm]
Come out with it. Where has she gone? But she is in bed! Where else?

[He runs back to the cart, and is heard calling frantically. The voice of URSUS answers him. PHEDRO stands listening, an evil smile contorting his mouth.]

GWYMPLANE
[off stage]

Dea!

[There is no answer.]

GWYMPLANE.
[Re-entering hurriedly. Goes up to PHEDRO in a threatening manner.]

I do not understand. There is something moving around me that is foul and stealthy. Tell me what it is or I'll make you feel as if you were falling down an abyss of knives.

PHEDRO.
Calm, my gentle talker. To consider alternatives, one must keep one's presence of mind.

GWYMPLANE.
I know. I can imagine what these courts are like and I'll usher you into hell at once if you are trying to spatter any foul scheme upon what I love.

PHEDRO.
Ah, Dea is yours?

GWYMPLANE.
No, you squinting rodent. She is mine only as the light is mine, and she belongs to my soul as my prayers do.

PHEDRO.
Be calm. You have misconstrued me and are wasting time hurling invectives at some unclean figure in your own fancy.

GWYMPLANE.
Well, then, speak out quickly.

PHEDRO.
The Prince has fallen desperately in love with her. He confided in me so much. The letter I received informed me that he had prevailed upon her in some manner to go with him and that I was to meet him in the palace at the stroke of the quarter to render him some service.

GWYMPLANE.
I cannot believe it; let me see the letter.

PHEDRO.
[Searching his pockets and vest for the letter.]

Gracious, I must have torn it up in my nervousness. Ah yes, there it is.

[He points to some pieces of torn paper lying at his feet in the darkness.]

GWYMPLANE
[knocking his fists to his forehead.]

You mean this letter came from him who is to marry the Duchess tomorrow? He who looks like the Athenian Victory.

[glancing at his own distorted limbs]
But Dea cannot see this.

[and in a voice almost of triumph]
And she cannot see him! He must have stolen her.

PHEDRO
[acidly]

His eloquence would steal the pollen out of a flower.

GWYMPLANE.
Ah Dea! But after all--he may have told her.

PHEDRO.
What?

GWYMPLANE
[with a strange sad gesture]

How I am.

PHEDRO.
She has never known?

GWYMPLANE.
Why should she?

[half to himself]
It was sweet that she should love what I am--not what I appear.

PHEDRO.
Perhaps he has told her, and her hands have travelled over his face and found that it is very fair.

[GWYMPLANE bends his head between his arms.]

But maybe she has gone against her will.

GWYMPLANE.
Yes, that is it. I must find out--O, God, take me to where I can find out.

PHEDRO.
Wait for me here a moment and I will prepare for your entrance into the palace. It may be very difficult to effect an entrance.

[He goes out and a few seconds after there is a sound of a cuckoo calling, followed by the noise of a slammed door. GWYMPLANE walks up and down in distraction.]

URSUS
[from the cart]

Gwymplane! Gwymplane! Is there anything the matter?

GWYMPLANE.
I am nervous and restless. I have never been so restless.

URSUS.
Well, walk far into the night, my son, until the iron clamping your brain with wakefulness melts, fades into that dew of restfulness falling upon all things before the dawn.

PHEDRO
[returning abruptly]

Are you ready?

GWYMPLANE.
I am dying of readiness.

[They go out.]

CURTAIN _

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