Writing for Vaudeville

by Brett Page

SCENE

The Rose Gardens of the American Legation in Persia—the entrance to the building on left. Large Persian jardinieres on right with a large Persian Rose Tree.

OPENING NUMBER

ROSE: "The Girl in the Persian Rug." After number off stage is heard in old man's voice: "Illa au Rose aboukar."

GIRLS: (Running up.) Oh—here comes the old Sheik now. (Enter the old SHEIK ABU MIRZAH preceded by Persian servant.)

ABU: Ah—ma Rosa Persh—ma waf to be—to-morrow we marry, eh? (The
SHEIK carries eartrumpet.)

ROSE: (Running from him in alarm.) Oh, don't touch me—don't—don't! (They are both yelling at each other as MRS. SCHUYLER enters first arch and sees ROSE'S actions—she is flashy—an ex-chorus girl—married to the retiring consul.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Say, tie a can to that duet. What's the matter?

ROSE: (Crossing to her.) Oh, Mrs. Schuyler, I won't marry him—I hate him!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, the poor old prune. (Crossing to ABU, garrulously.) How are you, Sheik? Our little ward, Rose, is so young and foolish! But I was just that innocent when I was in the chorus. When I came out of it, believe me, I was a different woman. (Enter Persian servant.)

SERVANT: The new consul wants to know when we are going to move out—

MRS. SCHUYLER: Not till after Rose's wedding to-morrow. (ROSE utters exclamation of rage, slaps the SHEIK'S face and exits.) I was just that emotional until I'd been married a few times—Come, Sheik—my husband won't return from Tabris till this evening—join me in a cocktail. (She illustrates drink in pantomime.)

ABU: (Understanding pantomime.) Yes! Yes! (LETTY and BETTY go up to table and chair C.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Mousta, two cocktails on my back porch. Come, Sheik—Sheik! (Business with girls.) This way to the dog house. (Takes hold of chain on his ear trumpet and passes him in. Girls have gone off.) Oh—and, Mousta—don't put any cherries in—they take up too much room in the glass. (She exits one way—Waiter, another.)

(MUSIC. Entrance of men.)

PAUL: (Entering with DUDLEY.) Well, there are some beautiful girls in our new Persian home—has Phil brought our things from the boat? Phil! Phil! (Phil enters with all the luggage.)

PHIL: (Meekly.) Here I am, sir.—

PAUL: (As if brushing mosquitoes away.) Oh gee! these Persian mosquitoes! (Finally kills one on his own face.)

PHIL: (Hungrily.) When are we going to have lunch, sir?

PAUL: Well, there are several little things I want you to do first.
(Whacking him on one side of face.) Another mosquito.

PHIL: (Gratefully.) Oh, thank you, sir.

DUDLEY: Paul, you look as if you were mashed on that Madison girl—(Sees mosquito on PHIL's face.) Another mosquito. (Whacks him on other side of face.)

PHIL: Oh, thank you, sir—I have never seen such extreme kindness.
(Both whack him this time—one on each side of face.)

PAUL: Ho! Ho! Two of them this time.

PHIL: Probably twins.

DUDLEY: I'll go in and see when the retiring consul will move out.

PAUL: All right, and I'll get a bite of luncheon awhile. (DUDLEY exits.)

PHIL: (Hungrily.) Oh—are you going to have your luncheon alone?
(PAUL sees mosquito on PHIL—is about to kill it—PHIL falls back.)
Ah—let it live—let it live.

PAUL: Now—you run in the house and take our things out of the grips.

PHIL: Is there any other little thing I can do for you?

PAUL: Not till after I've had my lunch.

PHIL: Thank you, sir! (PHIL looks a starved look at him—exits into house—stumbling over bundles.) (ROSE is heard singing off-stage chorus of "My Little Persian Rose"—enters humming.)

PAUL: (As he hears her singing.) It's Miss Madison—I know her sweet voice!

ROSE: (As she enters and sees PAUL, she stops singing, embarrassed.) Oh, I didn't know you were here. (The music continues faintly in orchestra.)

PAUL: I'm not—I'm in heaven when I hear you sing.

ROSE: Oh, I hope you don't mean my singing kills you.

PAUL: No—for then, I'm afraid I wouldn't be in heaven. What was that song?

ROSE: An old Persian poet taught me the words.

PAUL: (Ardently.) Oh, how I love—those words. Are you going back to America with Mr. and Mrs. Schuyler?

ROSE: (Sadly.) No, I must stay here in Persia.

PAUL: (Forgetting himself.) Hooray!

ROSE: Ah—but you don't know.

PAUL: Know what?

ROSE: Don't ask me now—good day, sir. (She courtesies and runs off.)

(Music in orchestra stops.)

PAUL: I wonder what she meant by that?

PHIL: (Rushing on.) I've taken out your things. Now, may I eat?
(Persian servant enters in haste.)

SERVANT: Oh please, sir, the Sheik has drunk three cocktails, and Mrs. Schuyler says he is disgusting. Quick, get someone to take him home.

PAUL: Phil—do you hear? The Sheik's disgusting—take him home.
(Servants exit.)

PHIL: (As he exits.) Is there any little thing I can do for you?

PAUL: Not just now. (PHIL exits.) The melody of that song haunts me. (He starts to hum it.) (PHIL enters with SHEIK on his shoulders—struggles to get him off. Finally exits with him. As he exits, MRS. SCHUYLER enters first arch.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: I hope he gets the old fool home, all right. (Sees PAUL.) Oho—it looks good to mother. (Business of humming same song.)

PAUL: (Turning and seeing her, with great surprise.) Agnes!

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Startled.) Mercy, where was I Agnes?

PAUL: (Crosses to MRS. SCHUYLER.) Have you forgotten—the summer
I met you in Niagara Falls?

MRS. SCHUYLER: Niagara Falls? I must have been on one of my honeymoons—oh, yes—of course—Mr. Morgan. (They shake hands.) You see, I've met so many mushy men. (He sighs.) What makes you look so unhappy?

PAUL: I'm in love with a girl.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Only one? Why so economical?

PAUL: Ah—I'm afraid you don't know what real love is.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, yes I do! Real love is the kind that lasts after you've heard a man sleeping right out loud. Who's the girl?

PAUL: Miss Madison.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Surprised.) Our Rose? Not on your life. To-morrow, before we return to America, she's to marry the Abu Mirzah, and nothing can prevent it.

PAUL: (In horror.) She's being sacrificed to that old mummy—I'll kill him.

MRS. SCHUYLER: The doctors say he is so strong, nothing can kill him, except his fondness for Persian plums, and there is a mandate out inflicting death upon any man who sends him any. (ROSE enters.)

PAUL: (Crossing to her.) Oh, Miss Madison, I've just heard—

MRS. SCHUYLER: Rose—go to the grape arbor at once—I'll join you there presently. (DUDLEY enters.)

DUDLEY: Say, Paul—I—(Sees MRS. SCHUYLER—with surprise.) Lena—

MRS. SCHUYLER: Du, "Allmaechtiger Strohsach"—where was I Lena?

DUDLEY: Have you forgotten, in Germany, Unter den Linden?

MRS. SCHUYLER: Germany? Oh, the man who made love to me over a plate of frankfurters? Well—well—wie geht's! Tell me, do you think I've grown stouter since the days when I was Lena? (PAUL laughs.)

DUDLEY: Not a bit. (PAUL and ROSE laugh.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Seeing ROSE and PAUL in earnest conversation.) Excuse me. (She crosses and grabs ROSE.) Rose, there's some grape juice waiting for us in the grape arbor. (She sends ROSE off.) (Boys step toward MRS. SCHUYLER.) Boys—later—when Rose has gone, you may come and crush a grape with me in the arbor. (She exits.)

PAUL: Aber nit! Dud, she's determined to keep us apart—you must help me—go and grab her, and run her off into the house.

DUDLEY: Lena—not much—she once flung a glass at my head.

PAUL: Well, then, where's Phil? (Calls.) Phil—Phil! (DUDLEY calls also. PHIL rushes on.)

PHIL: Am I going to eat?

PAUL: Quick, go and grab Mrs. Schuyler in the grape arbor.

PHIL: Grab her in the grape arbor?

PAUL: (Pushing them off.) And run her into the house. Quick. (He pushes PHIL off one way.) And you run into the house and hold her there. (Rushes DUDLEY into house.) I'll run to the grape arbor to join Rose when she's alone. (He exits.) (PHIL enters, pushing MRS. SCHUYLER toward the house. They enter from grape arbor.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Beating him with parasol.) The idea! What's the meaning of this? You little runt! (Pushing him off.) (Ad lib talk.) Who are you, anyhow?

PHIL: (Turning and seeing her.) Maggie!

MRS. SCHUYLER: (As before.) For the love of the Chambermaids'
Union, where was I Maggie?

PHIL: Don't you remember when I was a "merry merry" with you in the "Blonde Broilers' Burlesque" troupe?

MRS. SCHUYLER: Were you one of the Blonde Broilers?

PHIL: Sure, I was the fellow that came out in the last act disguised as a bench.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Finally remembering him.) Oh, you dear old Benchie!
(They embrace.) And I used to come in and sit all over you.

PHIL: That's how I came to fall in love with you.

MRS. SCHUYLER: A man always thinks more of a woman when she sits on him.

PHIL: Do she?

MRS. SCHUYLER: She do.

PHIL: Come and sit on me now.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Coyly.) Oh, you fascinating devil.

PHIL: Ah, go on—ah, sit on me. (Business of sitting—nearly flopping—finally getting on his knee.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: You're not the bench you used to be!

PHIL: You're not the sitter you used to be.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Remember the night you let me flop?

PHIL: I couldn't get into my part at all that night. I kept saying to myself: Phillip, be a bench, be a bench; but when I felt you near me, all the benchiness left me. When you sat on me, I put my arms about you, like this. (Does so.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ah—how it all comes back to me now! When you would put your arms about me, I would close my eyes and make believe it was Otis Skinner. (Business.)

PHIL: And then before all the crowd, I kissed you so. (He illustrates as PAUL enters with ROSE from arbor.)

PAUL: (Seeing PHIL and MRS. SCHUYLER.) Well—(They break apart.)
I'm surprised!

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Works PHIL around to hide him first, then turns him around to PAUL.) You wouldn't be if you were as used to it as I am.

PAUL: (Aside to PHIL.) What did I tell you to do?

(PHIL seizes MRS. SCHUYLER and runs her into house—she saying:
"What's the idea," etc., till off.) (Sunset falls upon scene.)

SONG—PAUL and ROSE—"My Little Persian Rose." (ROSE exits at end of song.)

PAUL: (Left alone.) I won't let her marry him. (A girl passes, crying out "Persian Plums—who will buy?")

PAUL: Persian Plums—Mrs. Schuyler said the old Sheik had such a passion for them, they might prove his death. Here! Girl—let me have a basket. (Hands her a roll of money.) There! (As he comes down with plums, the girl exits.) But she said whoever was caught sending him any would suffer the penalty of death. (Gets idea and calls off.) Phil—Phil! (Moonlight effect. As PHIL enters, anxiously, PAUL extends the basket of plums to him.)

PHIL: (Taking plums, greedily.) Oh thanks, I was starving—

PAUL: (Stopping him as he is about to eat.) Here—here—they're not for you. Quick—take them to the palace of the old Sheik Abu Mirzah.

PHIL: But I left him asleep in his bed, sir.

PAUL: Well, place them where he'll see them when he wakes, and (ominously) don't let anyone catch you with them, for the country is full of revolutionists and it might mean death.

PHIL: (Trembling.) My death! Is there any other little thing I can do for you?

PAUL: No. (Several pistol shots are heard. PHIL drops plums and starts to run into house. PAUL catches him by the hair—business.) You coward! I'm surprised! Go to the Palace of the Abu Mirzah. (He places basket in PHIL's hands.) Go!

(As PHIL backs off with plums, he bumps into a fierce looking
Persian who enters. PHIL starts and has comedy exit. The Persian
is the Emir Shahrud, who has disguised himself as DOWLEH the chef.
DOWLEH grinds his teeth at PAUL, who runs off.)

(DOWLEH sneaks over to house mysteriously—sees someone coming, and then runs and hides behind rosebush.)

(Now, moonlight floods scene. MRS. SCHUYLER enters in evening gown with LETTY and BETTY. Waiter enters and sets two tables.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Turn up the lights!

LETTY: Our last night in Persia.

MRS. SCHUYLER: I've ordered my "paflouka" out here. (MRS. SCHUYLER crosses to rosebush and, DOWLER jumps out at her.) Mercy—how you scared me!

DOWLEH: Fatima!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Now, I'm a cigarette!

DOWLEH: You are cruel to me—the noble Prince of Persia, who just to be near you, disguised himself as a cook.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Prince, I eat your cooking—that's kind enough.

DOWLEH: (Business.) Yes, I love you so that one day I hear a lady say you paint your face—I put a secret poison in her food—she took one taste—in ten seconds, she die.

MRS. SCHUYLER: It serves her right for telling the truth.

DOWLEH: Come! Fly with me!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh Prince, I've flown so much in my days, there isn't another flap left in me. (Throws him off.) Go—serve my "paflouka!"

DOWLEH: You throw me down—very well—I will be revenged. (Grinds his teeth in her ear.) Mmmm-ha!

MRS. SCHUYLER: (With start, holding ear.) He bit me. (The girls come down as DOWLEH goes off bumping into DUDLEY, who enters in dress clothes—he swears at DUDLEY, in Persian and exits.)

DUDLEY: (To MRS. SCHUYLER.) Oh Lena—if it's you that has made him mad, I'd advise you not to taste any of his food again.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Why?

DUDLEY: I just heard he's under suspicion of having put poison in a lady's food, which killed her in ten seconds.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ten seconds! Then it was true. (Waiter enters with "paftouka.") Oh my beautiful paflouka—and it smells so good.

DUDLEY: But Lena—you daren't touch it unless you get someone to try it first.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Will you?

DUDLEY: Excuse me. (She turns to the three—they all decline.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, if heaven would only send some unsuspecting imbecile to taste my paflouka for me—(PHIL backs on from grape arbor—looking to see if he's being followed.) Heaven has sent it hither. (She steps PHIL's way. As he bumps into her, he starts.) Hello!

PHIL: (After start.) Hello.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Why, what's the matter?

PHIL: Oh, I'm faint—for food.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Aside to others.) Oh, it's a shame to do it. (To
PHIL.) How would you like to "paflouka" with me?

PHIL: (After business.) No—before I do anything else, I must eat.

MRS. SCHUYLER: To "paflouka" is to eat.

PHIL: Well—hurry—let's do it.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (To waiter.) Now, Mousta place my "rakoush" before him.

PHIL: (As waiter places soup and roll before him.) Oh, it looks like soup.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Crossing to him.) I always start with something hot.

PHIL: (Takes spoonful.) It is soup! (As he goes for second spoonful, they hold his hand.)

WARNING: Could not break paragraph: MRS. SCHUYLER: (Counting.) One—two—three—four—five—six— seven—eight—nine—ten—(Looking at him.) How do you feel?

PHIL: (Completely puzzled.) Well, I can't say I feel just full yet.

DUDLEY: Go on, take a bite of roll.

PHIL: Thank you! (He takes one bite—as he goes for second bite, DUDLEY holds his hand—as they all count ten. Looking from one to another.) Say, what is this—a prize fight?

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Looking at him closely.) (DUDLEY takes roll from
PHIL.) It's all right—he still lives—I feel better now.

PHIL: I'm glad of that. (He starts to take another spoonful of soup.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Mousta, bring my rakoush. (Just as PHIL gets spoon to mouth, MOUSTA grabs it out of his hand and crosses with soup and roll to MRS. SCHUYLER, saying to PHIL in Persian: "Rekkra milta suss.")

PHIL: Say, isn't there some mistake? I understood that was my rakoush.

MRS. SCHUYLER: No, dear boy—it's ours. (She starts to eat.)

PHIL: I guess that's what they call to paflouka.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, it tastes good.

PHIL: It sounds good.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Now, Mousta, my bird and salad. (He exits.)

PHIL: I hope the bird's an ostrich. (He hears MRS. SCHUYLER drink soup.) (Enter MOUSTA—crosses with bird to MRS. SCHUYLER.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: No—place it before him.

PHIL: Yes—put it down—put it down.

MRS. SCHUYLER: No one can cook a bird like Princey.

PHIL: A bird? It looks like an insect! (He sees them approaching him as before and grabbing the bird in his hand starts to make off with it—they seize him and throw him into chair.)

PHIL: (As DUDLEY snatches bird from him.) Say, what kind of a game is this anyhow?

MRS. SCHUYLER: I'll explain. The chef is enraged at me, and as he's under suspicion of having put poison in a lady's food that killed her in ten seconds—

PHIL: (Jumping up in alarm.) Poison?

MRS. SCHUYLER: (With DUDLEY'S help setting him down again.) Yes, so we got you to try my food on—

PHIL: Oh, I see—I'm the dog.

DUDLEY: Precisely. Now go on—taste that bird.

PHIL: No, thanks—I've had enough.

ALL: (Together.) Go on—commence! (Business of making him taste bird.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: One—

PHIL: (Finishing counting for her.) Two—(To nine.) (As he reaches ten, he sneezes.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: I'm afraid to look. (Business of PHIL tasting bird, then getting idea of pretending to be poisoned, he commences to get a fit.) Help! Bring a chair! (They finally get his feet on chair.) Well, we got him on the chair anyhow.

DUDLEY: He's poisoned—

LETTY and BETTY: We've killed him.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Come on—let's beat it—(They all run off. PHIL gets up to grab all the food, when DUDLEY is heard off, calling "Lena."—He flops back with a jump to same dead position on floor. Finally gets up, grabs all the food and exits. MRS. SCHUYLER re-enters.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: He's gone and he's taken all the food with him.
Quick, Mousta, clear away all these things. (Paul enters.)

PAUL: Mrs. Schuyler, I'm really in love with Rose. (DOWLEH enters now in Persian dress clothes.)

DOWLEH: Ah, Fatima—can I see you alone? (DUDLEY enters.)

DUDLEY: Oh, Lena, could I see you alone?

MRS. SCHUYLER: If any more turn up, I'll scream. (LETTY and BETTY run on, carrying a note.)

LETTY: An important letter.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Opening it.) From my husband.

BETTY: I'm afraid it's bad news.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Bad news! P'raps he's coming home earlier than I expected. (Reads:) "Dear Becky!"

ALL THE MEN: Becky!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Yes, we met at Arverne! "I have heard of your carrying on with four old sweethearts: Had it been one, I would have killed him quietly and let the matter drop, but four are too many. I shall kill them all and divorce you. Expect me at ten.—Hamilton." Oh, gentlemen, this is awful—Hamilton is unlike most men—he means what he says—

PAUL: (Following.) But surely you can find a few more to help us defend ourselves.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ah, you don't know Hamilton. When he's angry, an army couldn't withstand him.

DOWLEH: If your husband kills, I will kill him.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ah, that doesn't worry me—but he may cut my allowance.

DUDLEY: (Following.) We must save you from such a fate.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Save me? You could! If there was one among you brave enough to say: "I am the only guy here ever loved your wife. Kill me, but don't cut her allowance."

MEN: (Going up stage.) Excuse me! (Waiter enters with straws in glass, from arbor.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ah—straws—the very thing—gentlemen. (Takes them out of glasses.) Come—choose—whoever has the shortest straw is to show his courage and die for me—who is it? Who is it? (PHIL enters—they see him—drop straws—and seize him.)

PAUL: Phil!

MEN: Ah! Welcome to our city. Welcome! Welcome!

PHIL: Is there any little thing I can do for you?

MRS. SCHUYLER: Yes. My husband will be here at any moment to kill these gentlemen and divorce me. You can save us all by saying you are the only old sweetheart of mine here.

PHIL: Excuse me!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, Benchie! Think of your bench days when I used to sit on you—

PHIL: If you'd only sit on me now, I'd feel safer—

PAUL: Now don't be a fool. When he comes, say: "I am the only man here ever had an affair with your wife. What have you to say about it?"

ALL: (Together.) Repeat that now.

PHIL: (In terror.) I am the only man here ever had anything to do with your wife—just like that. (An automobile horn heard.)

GIRLS: Oh, here he is—(They run off. Business of men holding PHIL and finally rushing off as an enormous figure in Persian "get-up" enters.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Picking up PHIL.) Benchie, it's sweet and accommodating of you to die for these three gentlemen—a favor I shan't forget. (From behind the Persian giant steps a midget in swell citizen clothes)—"It's Hamilton—(Mrs. Schuyler picks him up and kisses him.) Oh, Hamilton-I'm so glad you've come. (Crossing to Persian.) And Nehmid Duckin—it is an honor to have the prime minister with us. I'll go for a stroll with you and come back when (Turning to husband) you're through with this gentleman.

NEHMID: (In deep voice.) Is he the one?

MRS. SCHUYLER: Yes—you're looking great. (Takes his arm.)

NEHMID: So are you! (In deep tones to PHIL.) And now sir, you explain. (Exits with Mrs. Schuyler.) (PHIL stands in terror, thinking a powerful foe stands behind him. In reality, it is the midget husband. PHIL tries to talk. At first he cannot.)

PHIL: (After comedy biz.) I have a wife with an affair—I mean an affair with your wife—what have you to say about it?

MR. SCHUYLER: (In piping voice.) I'm very angry. (PHIL starts—looks up to see where voice comes from—doesn't see anyone—walks and bumps into HAMILTON—rolls up his sleeves.)

PHIL: (Bravely.) What have you to say about it? (Slaps his hand over his mouth.) Don't say a word—I've been waiting for something like you to show up. (He backs HAMILTON off—his hand on his face.)

FINALE: (During this, ROSE enters in bridal costume to be wed to
SHEIK. Servant enters announcing his death from eating Persian
Plums.

SONG: "Who Sent These Persian Plums?"

Then, final meeting and happiness of lovers and comedy characters and picture as "My Little Persian Rose" is repeated for

CURTAIN