ACT II
Time: Before dawn of December 25th.
Scene: Same as before. Stage quite dark except for firelight. Window covered with a blanket. Lights high on one side at back to represent moonlight when door is opened. Enter Mother [L.] with a lighted candle. Goes to door [R.].
Mother [calling]. Roger! Myles! Make haste. [Looks at clock, arranges fire, examines blanket hurriedly.]
Myles [softly]. We're coming, Mother. [Enter Myles and Roger (R.).]
Roger. Are the others waked yet, Mother?
Mother. Yes, they are dressing. Quickly now, bring in the tree whilst I see if they need help. [Exit (L.), leaving candle on mantel. Boys open outer door.]
Roger. How cold it is. See, Myles, the moon hath not yet set.
Myles. Yes, yes. Come, Roger. [Disappear (L.).]
[Reuben Turner and Gershom Porter
at door, look cautiously in, then peer
around after the boys.
Reuben [softly]. I see naught of any Christmas bough.
Gershom. Yet we surely heard them planning—— How angry the parson would be. I believe he would even drive them away like the Quakers.
Reuben. My father bade me look and bring him word if what they said was true.
Gershom. Beshrew me, if they haven't covered the window so that none may see them.
[Myles and Roger heard returning with
exclamations "Have a care!" "Gently
now!" etc. Reuben and Gershom hide
themselves without. Enter Roger and
Myles with the tree already decked and
fastened in a small wooden box, which they
place in center of stage. Their backs
turned, Reuben and Gershom appear
again at door, hold up their hands in horror,
whisper together, and make signs of
caution. Watch until Mother appears,
then they vanish.
Myles. There: we got it in quite safely, Roger. Dost think the Christmas boughs in England could have been prettier?
Roger [at door]. Mother, we're ready now.
[Enter Mother, taking candle again.
Mother. Roger, Roger! shut the door at once, careless boy! Art mad? [Roger fastens door.] The children are nearly ready and grow impatient. Make torches, both of you, and help me to light the candles.
[Boys take splinters of wood from the fireplace
and all go about the tree, lighting
candles, arranging gifts more firmly, etc.,
while Patience and Prudence, without,
sing "Waken, Christian Children."
WAKEN, CHRISTIAN CHILDREN[24]
(From "Christmas Carols New and Old," Novello & Company.)
Waken, Christian children,
Up, and let us sing,
With glad voice, the praises
Of our new-born King.
Come, nor fear to seek Him,
Children though we be;
Once He said of children,
"Let them come to Me."
In a manger lowly,
Sleeps the Heavenly Child;
O'er Him fondly bendeth
Mary, Mother mild.
Haste we then to welcome,
With a joyous lay,
Christ, the King of Glory,
Born for us to-day.
(There are additional verses, and this hymn is to be found in various collections. A slightly different version is in Eleanor Smith's "Songs for Little Children," Part I.)
Nathan [without]. Can't we come now, Mother?
Mother. One moment, children!
Patience. It grows light, Mother. I'm afeared. Mustn't we hasten?
Mother. Presently, presently! Is all ready, Roger?
Myles. Yes, every candle.
Mother [going to door (L.)]. Come, now!
[Enter Nathan, Patience, and Prudence
(L.), the girls singing first verse of their song.
Patience [breaking off]. Oh, Mother!
Nathan. How beautiful!
Prudence. Oh, Mother, it feels like a dream!
Mother [bending over her and leading her near]. It is no dream, little daughter. Come near and see.
[Prudence timidly touches one branch with her finger.
Prudence [turning quickly and looking up to her Mother]. Oh! it is real!
Myles. Of course it is real. A real Christmas Tree.
Roger [folding his arms]. Now I feel like a real Englishman!
Nathan. Is this like the boughs thee remembers when thee was a little girl, Mother?
Mother. As much like as I could make it, Nathan. Except that I like this one even better.
Patience. Oh, see the pretty presents! Oh, did Eaglefeather make these lovely baskets for us?
Myles. Yes, and that's why he wouldn't let thee see what he was working on.
Nathan. But where is Eaglefeather, Myles?
Roger. We can't think where he is. He didn't come back last night.
Patience. Oh, I don't want him to miss it!
Myles. Hark! [A bob-white is heard without.] That's his whistle now.
Mother. Open cautiously, Myles.
[Myles and Roger open door a little and
close it as soon as the Indian has slipped
through. Patience and Prudence run
to draw him to the tree.
Patience. See, Eaglefeather! Just see our Christmas Tree!
Prudence. Isn't it beautiful, Eaglefeather?
Indian. Beautiful! Eaglefeather think like many stars! [Points to candles, then touches something shining.] Like sun shining on snow fields.
Myles. Now, Mother, can't we sing our carol?
Mother. Yes, Myles, and then it will be more than ever like Old England.
[All sing "Come Ye Lofty." At the end of
second verse a sound of great knocking,
shouting, and calls of "Open! Open!
Mistress Goodspeede." Patience and
Prudence hide behind their Mother,
Nathan stands at her side, Myles and
Roger seize sticks, and Eaglefeather
draws a small tomahawk.
Patience and Prudence. 'Tis Indians!
Roger. 'Tis no Indians, 'tis the colonists!
Myles. They've found us out!
[Noise continues.
Turner and Porter. Open! open there!
Mistress Wells. I see the light——
Desire Porter. It shines through the cracks here——
Dominie Cobb. Verily none need hope to conceal evil!
Turner [knocking louder]. Open! open!
Mistress Porter. Shut in like wolves——
Gershom. Yea—like wolves in a cage——
Reuben. I told thee the window was covered.
Jared. Mayhap the house is afire!
Elder Hopkins. Hold, friends! [Silence without.] Mistress Goodspeede, in the name of the Governor I command you to open for us!
Roger [looking to his Mother]. Must I, Mother?
Mother [huskily]. Open for them, Roger.
[Roger opens the door and all but Gilbert
Appleton press in. Chorus of scandalized
exclamations, "Oh, oh!"
Porter. What is the meaning of this, woman?
Dominie Cobb. Do not attempt to deceive us!
Turner. Answer.
Mistress Wells. She hath not a word to say for herself.
Mistress Porter. Ah! we always knew she was not one of the elect!
Reuben. And they have even one of the hateful savages with them!
Gershom. Who would harbor the wretches?
Desire [pulling her mother's sleeve]. But, Mother, see how pretty it all is!
Priscilla. Oh, the beautiful tree! And gifts, too!
Jane. I would it were my little tree. Doesn't thee wish so, Desire?
Dominie Cobb. Dost see, woman, how swiftly thy ungodly example doth work to corrupt these wenches?
Mistress Porter. Silence, Desire! [She and Mistress Wells try to hustle the children out of sight of the tree.]
Elder Hopkins. Speak, woman, and tell us the meaning of this.
Patience [timidly]. Please, sir, 'tis—'tis—'tis a Christmas Tree!
Porter. We knew it!
Turner. Aye, my son Reuben hath told us. He heard them speaking of it not a week since.
Porter. And Gershom, too—they have kept good watch upon these evil-doers.
Myles [angrily, to Reuben]. So thou wast listening at the window. Sneak!
Reuben [blustering]. And may not the King's subject walk upon the King's highway, Sir Cocksparrow?
Roger [shaking his fist at boys]. Methinks 'twill take the King's soldiers to protect thee when once we catch thee——
Gershom. We'll show thee, thou blusterer, if we be not as free as thou!
[Turner and Porter seize Reuben and
Gershom and draw them back.
Mother [sternly, touching Roger's shoulder]. Peace, Roger and Myles. Is this the Christmas spirit we talked of but now?
Elder Hopkins [severely]. Woman, dost thou forget that we fled from England for this very cause, that we might escape and save our children from just such sinful folly as this? How darest thou, with these baubles and fripperies, bring temptation into our very midst? I know of no punishment too severe for such evil examples! Not the ducking-stool, nor the stocks, nor even banishment itself—— [Shakes his finger threateningly, at the same time going a step nearer to her. Enter Gilbert Appleton, remaining in background.]
Eaglefeather [springing before Mistress Delight with lifted tomahawk]. Stop! stop! No hurt good Squaw. Listen! Me tell. Me Eaglefeather. Father big chief—Bald Eagle. She good, kind squaw. Take Eaglefeather in, feed, make warm, make hurt foot well. Teach Eaglefeather be good Indian. Eaglefeather go home camp. All braves say "This night go burn village." Eaglefeather find Bald Eagle. Say, "Not burn village. Good people. Indian's friend. Good squaw. Kind to Eaglefeather." Bald Eagle listen. Eaglefeather tell about Tree. Say this Christmas Day. Good Day. Nobody hurt nobody. Bald Eagle listen. Say tell braves. Not let braves burn village. Now, now! Not hurt kind squaw! [Folds his arms proudly.]
Gilbert Appleton [coming forward]. Every word the lad says is true, sir!
All. Gilbert Appleton! What does he mean! How does thee know?
Gilbert. Because I was there. Good friends and neighbors, you all know that I, Gilbert Appleton, have been much among the savages. I know their speech, and their ways. Bald Eagle's tribe have always seemed friendly, but two days ago, when I was hunting with my match-lock near their camp, they made a prisoner of me and kept me there until just now. What Eaglefeather here hath told you is true. They would have burned the village if he had not begged the chief for the sake of Mistress Delight's great kindness to spare it. Good neighbors, 'tis my belief that this little Christmas tree hath saved us all! [During his story all hang upon his words, drawing close and shuddering at the thought of a massacre, and sighing with relief at the end.]
All. Strange! Wonderful! Did'st ever hear the like!
Gilbert. And, furthermore, the savages, who meant to make me guide them by the quickest way into our village, were moved to set me free at midnight and I have but now made my way back to you!
Turner. Unheard-of forbearance!
Dominie Cobb. Can we credit our ears!
Mistress Wells. 'Tis like a miracle!
Mistress Delight. 'Tis not so strange, either. We do not, we cannot know how much power even a very little good will and friendliness may have. I but thought to make my children happy, and because I loved my dear home in Old England I told them of customs there.
Prudence. Mother, I would like to tell the good Elder something.
Patience [aside]. He will only say thou art a forward wench, Prudence.
Prudence. Will he, Mother? Will he frown and say, "Children should be seen and not heard"?
Elder Hopkins. Nay, my little maid. I will listen gladly.
[Prudence goes to him and puts her hands in his.
Prudence [earnestly]. We didn't think it could be wrong, good Elder. Mother said it was the Lord's birthday, and we couldn't help being glad about that, could we? And Mother taught us a song about it.
Elder Hopkins. Then will you sing it for us, little maids?
[Prudence and Patience, hand in hand,
sing their carol once more, while Myles
and Roger go to Reuben Turner and
Gershom Porter and in pantomime apologize
and shake hands with them.
Mistress Porter. Good friends, these little maids and their song do touch my heart.
Turner. Truly, when we sought to bring truth and righteousness to the new land, I fear we were forgetting charity.
Jared. Was Christmas like this in Old England?
Jane. My Mother would never tell me of it.
Priscilla. I would it were so here!
Patience. Mother made the tree for us, but we'd like to give you all something from it. May we, Mother?
Mother. We will gladly share it if the good Elder will forgive any harm we may have done.
Elder Hopkins. Mistress Delight, I have been thinking that perhaps we have grown over hard and stern.
[Unhindered now, the children
draw close to the little tree.
Deacon Porter. There was much that was good in the old ways, after all.
Elder Hopkins. I will take a sprig in memory of the happy Christmases in Old England.
Mistress Wells. Perhaps we may e'en keep what was good in the old ways here in this New England. I'll take a bit of green, too.
All the others. And I, too. And I!
Mistress Delight. For the sake of the happy Christmases of old, and the homes we left, and more than all for the sake of the very first Christmas Day of all, let us sing one of the dear old carols we have loved so long.
Elder Hopkins. Willingly, Mistress Delight.
[All sing "Come Ye Lofty,"[25] and while singing
come forward and take bits of green
from the Tree, which Gilbert Appleton,
Reuben Turner, and Roger cut for them.
CURTAIN