Seeing Things At Night Part 14

THE TAILOR--Only this: if you wear my robe you must cast off compromise and expediency.

THE KING--Oh, that's all right. I was only thinking about trousers.

THE TAILOR--They were a compromise of Adam's, your majesty.

THE KING--Quite true, but I hope you wouldn't go so far as to object to essentials. It's mesh stuff, you know, and very thin. Practically nothing at all. Just one piece. Somehow or other I don't believe I'd feel easy without it. Sort of a habit with me.

THE TAILOR--If you wear my robe you must put aside every other garment.

THE KING--But this is December.

THE TAILOR--Your majesty, the man who wears this cloth will never fear cold.

THE LEADING DEMOCRAT--It seems to me that the only question is, Does his majesty trust the people fully and completely?

THE KING--Of course I trust the people.

THE LEADING DEMOCRAT--Then why are you afraid to show yourself before them in this magnificent new robe? Is there any reason to believe that they who are the real rulers of Marma cannot see this cloth which the Tailor sees, which I see and admire so much and (_pointedly_) which your majesty, Timothy the Third, cannot conceivably fail to see? It would be unfortunate if it became a matter of news that your majesty did not believe in the capabilities and worthiness of the people.

THE KING--- Oh, I believe all right.

THE LEADING DEMOCRAT--Then why are you afraid?

THE KING--Give me the robe. I am not afraid. (_The Tailor stoops and seems to take something out of a bag. He extends the invisible object to the King, who clumsily pretends to hang it over his arm._)

THE TAILOR--Oh, not that way, your majesty. It will wrinkle.

(_Painstakingly he smooths out a little air and returns it to the astonished monarch._)

THE KING (_to the Leading Republican, the Leading Democrat and the two Courtiers_)--You will meet me at the great gate of the palace in three minutes and accompany me on my promenade through the city. (_Exit the King. The Leading Republican draws close to the first Courtier._)

LEADING REPUBLICAN--Wonderful fabric that, was it not?

FIRST COURTIER--Much the finest I have ever seen.

LEADING REPUBLICAN--Now, what shade should you say it was? It's hard to tell shades in this light, isn't it?

FIRST COURTIER--I had no trouble, sir. The robe is a bright scarlet.

LEADING REPUBLICAN--Scarlet, eh? (_He moves over close to the second Courtier._)

LEADING REPUBLICAN--Wonderful fabric that we saw just now, wasn't it?

SECOND COURTIER--It was like a lake under the moonlight.

LEADING REPUBLICAN--Moonlight?

SECOND COURTIER--Yes, it was easy to see that it was a miraculous fabric. Man could never have achieved that silver green.

LEADING REPUBLICAN--Yes, it was a mighty fine color. (_Raising his voice._) I think we had better join his majesty now, gentlemen, and I believe we shall have an interesting promenade. Good-by until later, Mr.

Tailor.

ALL--Good-by, Mr. Tailor!

(_The Tailor moves to a great window at the back of the stage and opens it. He leans out. He bows low to some one who is pa.s.sing by underneath.

The rattle of wagons may be heard distinctly, and the rumble of cars, with occasionally the honk of an automobile horn. Suddenly there is a noise much louder and shriller than any of these. It is the voice of a child, and it cries: "He hasn't got anything on!" Voice after voice takes up the shout. Seemingly thousands of people are shouting, "He hasn't got anything on!" Finally the shouting loses all coherence; it is just a great, ugly, angry noise. A shot breaks the gla.s.s of the window just above the Tailor's head. Quickly he protects himself from further attack in that direction by swinging two iron shutters together and fastening them. Then he locks the great door through which the King and the Courtiers have just pa.s.sed._)

THE TAILOR (_in sorrow and anger_)--More blind men. (_He moves to his bag and, dipping his hands in, raises them again to fondle an invisible something. As he is so engaged a little door at the right opens and a meanly dressed girl of about eighteen enters._)

THE TAILOR--Keep your distance. I won't be taken alive. Not until I can find some one to care for my cloth.

THE GIRL FROM THE KITCHEN--Oh, please, don't hurt me, mister. I just ran up here because there were soldiers down in the garden, and shooting and things.

THE TAILOR--Who are you?

THE GIRL FROM THE KITCHEN--I'm the sixth a.s.sistant helper of the cook.

THE TAILOR--The sixth?

THE GIRL FROM THE KITCHEN--Yes, I clean the b.u.t.ter plates.

THE TAILOR--And that's all you do? Just clean b.u.t.ter plates? How terrible!

THE GIRL FROM THE KITCHEN--But it isn't. The cook says I'm the best b.u.t.ter dish cleaner in the world. I like b.u.t.ter. I like to touch it.

There's no color in the world so beautiful. It's like that bit of cloth you have in your hands.

THE TAILOR--You see the cloth?

THE GIRL FROM THE KITCHEN--Of course I see it. Why, it's right there in your hands. And it's yellow like the b.u.t.ter.

THE TAILOR--Or gold. (_He reaches into the bag again._) And what's this?

(_He holds his right hand high above his head._)

THE GIRL FROM THE KITCHEN--Why, it's a yellow rope.

THE TAILOR--Yes, that's it, a rope. I'm going to give you the other piece of cloth now, and later the rope, too. You must guard it as carefully, as carefully as you would watch one of your b.u.t.ter dishes. Do you understand?

THE GIRL--I wouldn't lose it. It's pretty.

THE TAILOR--Yes, it's pretty and the world mustn't lose it. You will find that most people can't see. I know only two, you and I, but there must be others. That's your task now, finding people who can see the cloth and cleaning b.u.t.ter plates, of course. (_There is a loud pounding on the great door and a shout of "Open, in the King's name!" The knocking increases in violence and the command is repeated. Then men begin to swing against the door with heavy bars and hatchets._)

THE TAILOR--Here (_he makes a gesture toward the girl_), take the cloth.

Go quickly to the kitchen. Then come back in a moment and save the rope, too.

THE GIRL FROM THE KITCHEN--But what do they want?

THE TAILOR--They want to kill me.

THE GIRL FROM THE KITCHEN--They mustn't.