Six One-Act Plays Part 11

_All the persons in the play are in blue and white costumes, to make the plate picture. The Gong-Bearer may be in royal yellow, and Chorus in emerald green._

_The Curtain is drawn slightly open, and the Gong-bearer appears, strikes the gong three times very slowly and ten times rapidly, then walks to the right side of the stage, and stands there throughout the play. Chorus appears between the parted curtains, holds up his left hand while the Gong-bearer strikes once, then addresses the audience in a very suave manner._

CHORUS--Most ill.u.s.trious friends, I deliver the three bows to Heaven, Earth, and Man, (_bows ceremoniously to right, left, and centre_) and obtrude myself on your exalted vision that you may know the meaning of our poor play. The story deals with the always new love of youth for maid, the abrupt tempering of a father's wrath to forgiveness, and the immutability of Fate.

Our hero, Chang-sut-yen, (_Chang-sut-yen appears between the curtains, bows to right, left and centre, then disappears behind the curtains_) will come before you as a servant, but in reality he is none other than the son of Chang-won-yin, the Great, ruler of this province of Canton.

(_Gong-bearer strikes the gong._) The G.o.d of Fate decreed that he should be known as a turtle dove, and have his image forever emblazoned on the s.h.i.+ning surface of a Willow plate. To avert this calamitous ending to his august life, Chang-sut-yen has fled the home of his father, and entered the service of a rich and powerful Mandarin, where he hopes, by virtue of his obscure position, to escape the notice of the G.o.d. But, as we have said, Fate is immutable, what the G.o.d plans must ever be, despite the efforts of puny man.

You will see the Mandarin, (_Mandarin appears, bows, and disappears_) rich, proud, majestic, with eyes for everything that may tend to make him more powerful, but superbly blind to virtue and worth in the humble.

Kwen-lin, his daughter (_Kwen-lin appears, bows, and retires_) is swayed by love alone; a dangerous practice usually, but in this story, one begging your approval. Do not judge her harshly, in that her heart leads her. Remember she is a woman. Much may be forgiven women.

(_The Property Man appears, bows, and looks inquiringly at Chorus, who hesitates an instant, and then, as if fulfilling a rather unpleasant duty, proceeds._) I would I might ignore the Property Man. He composed a version of this poetic tale, putting in all the ugly truths, and serenely forgetting all the possible flower like episodes. As artists we could not consider it. (_Property Man with a slight shrug leaves stage._) The Property Man is not sufficiently large minded to accept our ripe and impartial opinion. He is superbly indifferent to the luminous fruit from his successful rival's quill, and will probably sulk through his duties. That you may not be disturbed by his presence, we have clothed him invisibly in black, and you will therefore be spared the pain of seeing him at all.

I fear I have kept you all too long from the feast prepared for your delectation. If my brothers behind the curtain show not that histrionic merit you so rightly demand, I pray you be lenient, and listen with ears, and see with eyes, not too critical. I conduct you at once to the moon-lit garden of the wealthy Mandarin, where Chang-sut-yen is loitering, hoping to meet there the Mandarin's beautiful daughter, Kwen-lin, who smiles on him. Is it not traditionally the fas.h.i.+on of women to adore most that youth who is forbidden?

I bow to you for your attentively honorable ears. I bow. I bow.

(_Gong-bearer strikes gong. Chorus walks to left of stage, and curtains are pulled apart, revealing Chang-sut-yen standing before the back drop._)

CHANG-SUT-YEN--(_Singing._) _Bor lo un doy, bor lo un doy, chin lo, chin lo, bor lo un doy._ Kwen-lin will know that song. It is nothing, it says nothing, therefore it is pregnant with meaning, and my Bright Water-lily will understand. (_Singing._) _Bor lo un doy, bor lo un doy, chin lo, chin lo, bor lo un doy._ She will come, dancing like sun-rays on the flowers of my mind, and I will press my honorable lips to hers, and our solemn breaths will mingle. Though I seem but a servant, I am Chang-sut-yen, son of Chang-won-yin, the Great, ruler of this province.

(_Gong-bearer strikes gong._) I am also the most glorious lover the G.o.ds have made. My soul was fas.h.i.+oned from the wind of Heaven, and the purple fire of the mountain peak. My ill.u.s.trious body is the st.u.r.dy tree to which maidens will ever sigh their timid love.

CHORUS--It is the Mandarin who walks this way.

CHANG-SUT-YEN--(_Singing._) _Bor lo un doy, bor lo un doy, chin lo, chin lo, bor lo un doy_,--who comes? Alas, not Kwen-lin the fragrant, but my master. He will spit anger that I linger in the garden. I must summon my snake tongue to puzzle his cow-brain, lest he suspect I wait for her. I will divest myself of my honorable senses, and speak with an empty head.

I will be gloriously fool possessed. (_Singing._) _Bor lo un doy, bor lo un doy, chin lo, chin lo, bor lo un doy._

(_Enter Mandarin._)

MANDARIN--The night is full of chill. If the G.o.d of Frost bites his sharp teeth into my fruit trees, they will perish. Br-r-r, cold!

CHANG-SUT-YEN--(_Clasping Mandarin in his arms._) August one, the white moon lady slumbers in the chamber of Heaven, while I wait for you to light the path of my dreams.

MANDARIN--Ancestors, save me!

CHANG-SUT-YEN--We will make loud prayers to the tablets of our magnificently worthy ancestors after we embrace. Let me pluck you, and wear you across my heart, before your flower beauty fades.

MANDARIN--(_Recognizing him._) Miserable three footed dog, what maiden did you think to greet?

CHANG-SUT-YEN--I press to my superb breast only your lily feet, honorable Cherry Blossom.

MANDARIN--I am no Cherry Blossom.

CHANG-SUT-YEN--You are all the Cherry Blossoms in the Garden of Earth, shedding perfume and petals with every sighing breeze.

MANDARIN--I shed nothing but the light of Truth and Justice.

CHANG-SUT-YEN--My heart cracks with love for you, and your tasks. At night when sleep seals the minds of other servants, I journey forth to count again your dazzling possessions. Your peach trees bend before me, and I am blinded. I beg to work for you until Death sews a black seam in my brain, and I go to my ancestors.

MANDARIN--You have departed your unhappy wits. I give you to-morrow to offer gifts to the G.o.ds. Pursue sleep, and think not of my possessions, but rather of your venerable poverty. Your august brain is not large enough for Death to waste thread on. Thread is costly. Away with you, and rest.

CHANG-SUT-YEN--May your golden finger nails grow, and grow, and grow, until they grasp all wealth and honor. (_Singing._) _Bor lo un doy, bor lo un doy, chin lo, chin lo, bor lo un doy._

(_Exit Chang, singing._)

MANDARIN--He is a faithful dog, who begs but a kick to make him lick my hand. I have given him too many tasks. He is bereft of his toad mind. I dislike a man who sings as he works. Life does not plan it so.

CHORUS--Kwen-lin, Bright Water-Lily, comes to meet her lover.

(_Enter Kwen-lin, singing. Property Man hands her a branch of blossoms._)

KWEN-LIN--(_Singing._) _Bor lo un doy, bor lo un doy, chin lo, chin lo, bor lo un doy._

MANDARIN--The mad one croaked that. (_Turns back and sings._) _Bor lo un doy, bor lo un doy, chin lo_,--

KWEN-LIN--(_Clasping him._) Supreme lover! The happy breezes dance when your voice is the lute.

MANDARIN--My important ears to be so a.s.sailed! The world box collapses, and tumbles round me.

KWEN-LIN--n.o.ble father! I thought it was my--

MANDARIN--Your?

KWEN-LIN--My singing bird.

MANDARIN--A Cherry Blossom, and a singing bird! An ill.u.s.trious choice for a man of high position.

KWEN-LIN--You sound very like a singing bird.

MANDARIN--Something has broken in their heads. Spring has tangled the brain threads. It must be Spring!

KWEN-LIN--It is Spring, and soon it will be superb Summer, then Fall, then Winter. The year gone pff! like that, and miserable life flower desolated.

MANDARIN--Before the honorable year goes pff! like that, you will be an exalted wife.

KWEN-LIN--A wife! I, a wife?

MANDARIN--For seventeen years of moons, your nurses and teachers have polished you into a state of pa.s.sable excellence. You are very wonderful as foolish little girls go. You are something of a somebody.

KWEN-LIN--But to what impressive man are my charms to be presented?

MANDARIN--(_Looking at invisible garden._) This late frost will surely steal the jewels in my garden. The servant Chang must cover the iris. I can trust Chang.

KWEN-LIN--You marry me to Chang-sut-yen?

MANDARIN--Do I throw my child of five thousand and one delectable graces into the arms of a servant? I was speaking of my garden.

KWEN-LIN--If I am to wed, let us speak of husbands.