The Harlequinade: An Excursion Part 3

UNCLE EDWARD. You minx!

ALICE. Put your hand into the b.u.t.terfly hive, and if they sting you, you know it's the bees.

UNCLE EDWARD. Did he? Well, go on and tell them the rest.

ALICE. Yes. Columbine has run away again. The story's always got to be that. Either Columbine runs away from somebody, or somebody runs away with her. That's because the soul is always struggling to be free. This time Cousin Clown and Uncle Pantaloon helped her. She could twist them round her little finger. And she made a great mistake in running away with this very sham-serious young man.

UNCLE EDWARD. Sham-serious?

ALICE. He only thinks he's serious because he reads books all day long. And she married him, and he's turned out to be most awfully dull. And I'm most awfully sorry for her. He treats her like a bit of furniture. Isn't it funny the way the soul will fall in love ... and with the most unaccountable people; and you know how you say "I can't think what she sees in the man...." But a G.o.d can see ... and an artist. And Harlequin's a bit of both. So when he comes along ... Uncle, the rest of it isn't a very nice story. Will they mind?

UNCLE EDWARD. They? They'll like it all the better.

ALICE. Well, you see the husband being so dull, she wants somebody to take her out and show her things and be attentive. And there's the Man of the World. And things are getting rather serious. For Cousin Clown and Uncle Pantaloon aren't any use. They're just stupid and friendly and nice, like all one's country cousins. But just in time comes Harlequin-Mercury. He has no wings left to his feet, because you wear off wings rather soon if you wander about the world. And his wand hasn't any snakes left. It's just painted white wood. And it's a good thing we've come to the jokes about the sausages, because, now Harlequin's only a strolling player, he's sometimes awfully hungry.

UNCLE EDWARD. Very true. Are they ready?

ALICE. I'll see.

[So she turns and sticks her head through the curtains.

Yes.

UNCLE EDWARD. Music.

[And the music begins again.

Some are all for a bell, and again others are for a gong, but ...

[He wields his trusty mallet for three hard whacks on the floor. And then the two of them draw back the curtains on the second scene.

A line of dark cypress trees; a blue sky and an Italian landscape. A path to a house. A young man lying on the ground reading. His name is Gelsomino.

The music tells him that he hears Columbine. He stirs, looks round, frowns, and goes back to his book. Columbine flies out of the house.

ALICE. [Radiant and proud.] This is Columbine.

[And what should Columbine be like? Well, she is just like what you'd most like her to be. She has a rose in her hand. She stops as she sees her husband, then shyly puts out her arms to him, but he cannot see that, for his back is turned. She creeps up to him and drops the rose on his book. He brushes the rose away and waves her away too.

He's not really angry, but you see he's married to her, and he can't bear being interrupted.

[Columbine stands looking--deliberately looking her prettiest; wistful, appealing.

I think that's been her mistake. If she'd ...

UNCLE EDWARD. s.h.!.+

ALICE. Sorry!

[Mechanically he has put the rose in the book for a marker, and is moving away. But now we see--or if we don't see, we hear in the music--the Man of the World on his way.

The Man of the World. I told you!

[Such a man of the world! But when you can dress in vermilion and purple and gold and wear the biggest cloak and the largest sword that ever was and twist your moustache as outrageously as you please, what's easier than to fascinate such a child as Columbine? She curtseys to him as he bows to her. She beckons to her husband to join them. But he, lost now in the landscape, now in his reopened book, waves only a distant greeting, and will not budge. The Man of the World smiles a most worldly smile, and soon he and pretty Columbine are strolling towards the house; she looking down at the flagged walk and the flowers that border it, he looking down at her, with eyes too greedy to be kind.

What a pity, isn't it?

[Then the music tells us quite unmistakably that Pantaloon and Clown are tumbling along.

Listen! Pantaloon and Clown! They are always coming to lunch. Because if actors like this know there is lunch ...

UNCLE EDWARD. Hus.h.!.+

[And on they tumble; the Pantaloon and Clown that Children know! Clown has a basket that he slyly sets down and Pantaloon falls over it, of course. Gelsomino joins them, w.i.l.l.y-nilly; for they fetch him there, because Clown has a joke to tell.

ALICE. This is the beehive and b.u.t.terfly-hive story. The music does bees and b.u.t.terflies beautifully, doesn't it? And I told you the joke besides, so it's quite easy to follow. Gelsomino never sees it. He is dull.

[Clown does sigh deeply over Gelsomino's unmoved face. But he tries again. He takes from his basket the entirely impossible corpse of a cat. Pantaloon chuckles silently. But Alice laughs out loud.

Oh! I'd forgotten that one. It's one of his very old ones ... but I like it. He says ... "Somebody's thrown away this perfectly good cat." Gelsomino doesn't think it a bit funny.

[Gelsomino doesn't. He sniffs and retires disgusted. Clown juggles with the cat to cheer himself up. Then he flings it recklessly high in air and you hear it fall (the big drum does this) with a loud plomp in the road.

Back stroll Columbine and the Man of the World. But she is looking up at him now, and the music tells us that her heart is beating fast. She welcomes Clown and Pantaloon with a kiss, one for each. Clown is so funny when he is kissed. And she makes them known to the Man of the World. Clown is so funny when he bows. He can't bow all he wants to without knocking Pantaloon over. Then Columbine has to help pick him up and comfort him and kiss him again. Then there is the meal to be prepared. Off they run, all three, and on they bring it, drinkables, eatables, table and chairs.

Only Gelsomino sits aside. The Man of the World goes to him to ask what book so absorbs him, friendly, faux bonhomme. Gelsomino responds at once.

Books are important. And, as he lifts his up, the rose drops out. The Man of the World picks it up and--"May he keep such a trifle?" "By all means"

nods Gelsomino, wondering. And Columbine, there with the dish in her hands, sees it, and--there's very nearly no macaroni for lunch.

But some one else sees it, too--sees it and sees all. This is Harlequin, who has sprung somehow from behind the trees.

There's Harlequin ... with his wand and his mask. He's watching. Now you watch.

UNCLE EDWARD. What are you laughing at? The many times you've seen this!

ALICE. I never can help it. This is where Clown tries to steal the breakfast, and he never remembers that Harlequin's close behind.

[And, indeed, while the others most ostentatiously don't see, Clown and Pantaloon do steal bread and sausages and beer--and into the basket they all go. Not the beer; that goes down the neck of Clown. Then Columbine calls them to breakfast. Harlequin is presented to the company. Gelsomino has greeted him even more coldly.

He is weary of her relations.

[But, behold, they discover there is no breakfast. Clown discovers it, and is more amazed and innocent than any. Columbine is in desp But Harlequin rises and waves his wand and strikes on the table, and breakfast appears. Clown, in a panic, turns to his basket. But, behold, that is empty now.

Then they have breakfast. And Clown gets a lot and Pantaloon very little.

Gelsomino hasn't come to the table at all, so Columbine goes to fetch him.

But he isn't hungry, he won't come. And, turning, disappointed, she sees the Man of the World lifting, not his gla.s.s to toast her, but the rose.

Harlequin sees, too. And he rises to wave his wand again. Gelsomino starts to move away.