Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 297

PROSt.i.tUTE [_smiles_]. Don't talk to me like that.

THIEF. You are being married now. Virgins come and bring you your bridal dress, your veil, your myrtle wreath. You are chaste. They lead you to the altar. Your mother lays her hand on your head and blesses you. Sweet harp music is heard. Your bridegroom takes his place beside you.

[_The Prost.i.tute breaks out into tears._]

DRUNKARD [_excited_]. I will be together with her. I will defend her. I will not let them insult her. She is my sister. I will work for her.

THIEF. That's the way. The dogs unite to-day. [_He takes the b.a.s.t.a.r.d in his arms and kisses him on the forehead._] And, he, too, is our child.

All of us are dogs of the street. All of us unite to-day.

DRUNKARD [_takes the boy from the Thief_]. He is our child. He will be with us. [_He takes the arm of the Prost.i.tute._] Come, we will go together. I will work for you. You will bring him up, and he will be our child. [_He takes the shawl from the Prost.i.tute, and wraps himself and the boy in it._] What? You do not hear? Listen. I mean it with my whole heart.

[_The Prost.i.tute does not hear. She looks with awe at the Woman._]

THIEF. That's the way. That's the way. That's the way. To-day we unite.

We go together. We will be one with the dogs. [_He caresses all he finds on the street._] Blow the trumpets, boys. Beat the drums. We choose a queen to-day. [_To the Fool._] The army waits for you, with swords in their hands, with spears ready. Do you see the cannon all trained? All wait for your command. Do you see the foe around you? [_He points to the street with a broad majestic gesture._] Here stands the army.

FOOL [_happily_]. Yes, yes.

THIEF. Give your order, Napoleon. You are our general. Draw the sword, and command!

FOOL [_draws his wooden sword and cries loudly as if he saw an army in the market-place_]. Present arms!

THIEF [_loudly_]. That's the way. The dogs unite to-day. All will unite.

We choose a queen to-day. [_He points to the Woman._] She is worthy of wearing the crown of the street. Come, queen. Mount to your throne. [_He bends his back._] Boys, blow your trumpets. Beat your drums. At your knees. All hats off. The queen comes. The queen comes. So will we go to our land.

[_It is grown lighter. The face of the Woman has grown young and beautiful, and begins to look like the face of the Holy Mother._]

PROSt.i.tUTE [_who has looked at the Woman with awe, recognizes her in the gray light, as she sits on the Thief's shoulders with the child in her arms. She falls to her knees before her, and cries in an unearthly voice_]. Oh, see, see. It is the Holy Mother. Look at her--her face. She has come from the church. Oh, it is the holy picture before which I always pray. I know her. Our Holy Mother in her very flesh. [_She gives a great cry, and falls prostrate before the Woman._] Oh, Mother, Mother, take me under Thy protection. [_She falls prostrate, unable to talk any more. The others are infected with the spirit of her words. They look with fear at the Woman's face. They recognize the Madonna. They bend half-ways on their knees. The Thief, who has let her down from his shoulders, takes off his hat and kneels with the rest. All prostrate themselves. There is the sound of a church-bell. It is day. From the open window of a house across the way, leans out the wife of the Drunkard, and yells._] Ah, ah, what are you doing there. Come into the house. There is work to be done.

DRUNKARD [_roused from his ecstasy, tears his hand away from that of the Prost.i.tute, and looks at the Woman with the Thief._] Ha-ha-ha. That's Helenka, Andrey the Plasterer's wife. Ha-ha-ha. He's cracked a good joke.

[_He runs away. The others awake as if from sleep. The Prost.i.tute suddenly rises. Helenka tries to escape from the Thief's hands._]

HELENKA. Why did you drag me into the street?

THIEF [_holding her hand_.] Come with me. Remember what we said. Come to another land with me.

HELENKA [_weeping_]. What does he want with me? Why did he drag me into the street? Come home, children.

[_All run from him._]

THIEF [_stands near the well, and thunders after them_]. Dogs, where are you running?... You dogs, you d.a.m.ned dogs.... [_Townspeople come to the well with pails, grumbling._] Get out of the way....

[_Curtain._]

FORGOTTEN SOULS

A PLAY

BY DAVID PINSKI TRANSLATED AND EDITED BY ISAAC GOLDBERG, PH.D.

Copyright, 1916, by L. E. Ba.s.sett.

All rights reserved.

PERSONS

f.a.n.n.y SEGAL [_owner of a tailoring establishment_].

LIZZIE EHRLICH [_a pianist_], } [_Miss Segal's boarders_].

HINDES [_a teacher_], }

PLACE: _A Russian Provincial Town_.

TIME: _1916_.

Reprinted from "Six Plays of the Yiddish Theatre" by permission of, and special arrangements with, Dr. Isaac Goldberg and David Pinski.

FORGOTTEN SOULS

A PLAY BY DAVID PINSKI

[SCENE: _Workroom at f.a.n.n.y Segal's. A door to the left of the spectator, another in the back. A large table, covered with various materials; at each side of the table a sewing machine. On the wall to the right, a three-panelled mirror; in the corner, a large wardrobe. Not far from the wardrobe two dressmaker's forms, covered with cloaks. In the middle a broad armchair. Evening._]

f.a.n.n.y [_runs out through the rear door and soon returns with a letter in her hand. She tears it nervously open and is absorbed in reading.

Suddenly she gives a scream of delight_]. Oh!--Oh! [_Pa.s.ses her hand over her face and through her hair, looks at the letter, cries out anew, breathing with difficulty. Looks at the letter once more, and exclaims heavily._] You! My love! My love! [_She is lost for a moment in thought, then calls._] Lizzie! Lizzie! Lizzie!

LIZZIE [_enters, dressed up as if for a ball, sticking a pin in her hat.

Mocks f.a.n.n.y's tone._] What's up? What's up? What's up?

f.a.n.n.y. Read this! Quickly! It's from Berman!

LIZZIE [_takes the letter_]. Why see! We've just been talking about him.

And they really accepted his drama?

[_Looks at the letter._]

f.a.n.n.y [_looks on, too, in great excitement_].

LIZZIE [_as she reads_]. That's fine! [_Turns over a page and continues reading._] Why! This is an actual proposal of marriage, f.a.n.n.y, my dear!