The Atlantic Book of Modern Plays Part 9

BARTLEY. Will you shut your mouth and hear me speaking?

MRS. FALLON. And if it was for any sort of a fine handsome woman, but for a little fistful of a woman like Kitty Keary, that's not four feet high hardly, and not three teeth in her head unless she got new ones! May G.o.d reward you, Bartley Fallon, for the black treachery in your heart and the wickedness in your mind, and the red blood of poor Jack Smith that is wet upon your hand!

(_Voice of JACK SMITH heard singing_)

The sea shall be dry, The earth under mourning and ban!

Then loud shall he cry For the wife of the red-haired man!

BARTLEY. It's Jack Smith's voice--I never knew a ghost to sing before. It is after myself and the fork he is coming! (_Goes back.

Enter_ JACK SMITH.) Let one of you give him the fork and I will be clear of him now and for eternity!

MRS. TARPEY. The Lord have mercy on us! Red Jack Smith! The man that was going to be waked!

JAMES RYAN. Is it back from the grave you are come?

SHAWN EARLY. Is it alive you are, or is it dead you are?

TIM CASEY. Is it yourself at all that's in it?

MRS. TULLY. Is it letting on you were to be dead?

MRS. FALLON. Dead or alive, let you stop Kitty Keary, your wife, from bringing my man away with her to America!

JACK SMITH. It is what I think, the wits are gone astray on the whole of you. What would my wife want bringing Bartley Fallon to America?

MRS. FALLON. To leave yourself, and to get quit of you she wants, Jack Smith, and to bring him away from myself. That's what the two of them had settled together.

JACK SMITH. I'll break the head of any man that says that! Who is it says it? (_To_ TIM CASEY) Was it you said it? (_To_ SHAWN EARLY) Was it you?

ALL TOGETHER (_backing and shaking their heads_). It wasn't I said it!

JACK SMITH. Tell me the name of any man that said it!

ALL TOGETHEB (_pointing to_ BARTLEY). It was _him_ that said it!

JACK SMITH. Let me at him till I break his head!

(BARTLEY _backs in terror. Neighbors hold_ JACK SMITH _back._)

JACK SMITH (_trying to free himself_). Let me at him! Isn't he the pleasant sort of a scarecrow for any woman to be crossing the ocean with! It's back from the docks of New York he'd be turned (_trying to rush at him again_), with a lie in his mouth and treachery in his heart, and another man's wife by his side, and he pa.s.sing her off as his own! Let me at him, can't you?

(_Makes another rush, but is held back._)

MAGISTRATE (_pointing to_ JACK SMITH). Policeman, put the handcuffs on this man. I see it all now. A case of false impersonation, a conspiracy to defeat the ends of justice. There was a case in the Andaman Islands, a murderer of the Mopsa tribe, a religious enthusiast--

POLICEMAN. So he might be, too.

MAGISTRATE. We must take both these men to the scene of the murder. We must confront them with the body of the real Jack Smith.

JACK SMITH. I'll break the head of any man that will find my dead body!

MAGISTRATE. I'll call more help from the barracks.

(_Blows POLICEMAN'S whistle._)

BARTLEY. It is what I am thinking, if myself and Jack Smith are put together in the one cell for the night, the handcuffs will be taken off him, and his hands will be free, and murder will be done that time surely!

MAGISTRATE. Come on!

(_They turn to the right._)

[CURTAIN]

THE BEGGAR AND THE KING[1]

Winthrop Parkhurst

[Footnote 1: Reprinted from Drama, No. 33, February, 1919, by permission of Mr. Parkhurst and the editors of Drama.

Copyrighted, 1918, as a dramatic composition, by Winthrop Parkhurst. All rights of production reserved by author.]

CHARACTERS

THE KING OF A GREAT COUNTRY HIS SERVANT A BEGGAR

_A chamber in the palace overlooks a courtyard. The season is midsummer. The windows of the palace are open, and from a distance there comes the sound of a man's voice crying for bread._ THE KING _sits in a golden chair. A golden crown is on his head, and he holds in his hand a sceptre which is also of gold. A_ SERVANT _stands by his side, fanning him with an enormous fan of peac.o.c.k feathers._

THE BEGGAR (_outside_). Bread. Bread. Bread. Give me some bread.

THE KING (_languidly_). Who is that crying in the street for bread?

THE SERVANT (_fanning_). O king, it is a beggar.

THE KING. Why does he cry for bread?

THE SERVANT. O king, he cries for bread in order that he may fill his belly.

THE KING. I do not like the sound of his voice. It annoys me very much. Send him away.

THE SERVANT (_bowing_). O king, he _has_ been sent away.

THE KING. If that is so, then why do I hear his voice?

THE SERVANT. O king, he has been sent away many times, yet each time that he is sent away he returns again, crying louder than he did before.