Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays

by Unknown

[The limb of the tree creaks. The First Chinese turns, for a moment, in the direction of the sound.]

First Chinese [thoughtfully]. The light of the most tranquil candle
Would shudder on a bloody salver.

Second Chinese [with a gesture of disregard]. It is the invasion
That counts.
If it be supposed that we are three figures
Painted on porcelain
As we sit here,
That we are painted on this very bottle,
The hermit of the place,
Holding this candle to us,
Would wonder;
But if it be supposed
That we are painted as warriors,
The candle would tremble in his hands;
Or if it be supposed, for example,
That we are painted as three dead men,
He could not see the steadiest light,
For sorrow.
It would be true
If an emperor himself
Held the candle.
He would forget the porcelain
For the figures painted on it.

Third Chinese [shrugging his shoulders]. Let the candle shine for the beauty of shining.
I dislike the invasion
And long for the windless pavilions.
And yet it may be true
That nothing is beautiful
Except with reference to ourselves,
Nor ugly,
Nor high, [Pointing to the sky.]
Nor low. [Pointing to the candle.]
No: not even sunrise.
Can you play of this [Mockingly to First Chinese.]
For us? [He stands up.]

First Chinese [hesitatingly]. I have a song
Called Mistress and Maid.
It is of no interest to hermits
Or emperors,
Yet it has a bearing;
For if we affect sunrise,
We affect all things.

Third Chinese. It is a pity it is of women.
Sing it.

[He takes an instrument from one of the baskets and hands it to the First Chinese, who sings the following song, accompanying himself, somewhat tunelessly, on the instrument. The Third Chinese takes various things out of the basket for tea. He arranges fruit. The First Chinese watches him while he plays. The Second Chinese gazes at the ground. The sky shows the first signs of morning.]

First Chinese. The mistress says, in a harsh voice,
"He will be thinking in strange countries
Of the white stones near my door,
And I—I am tired of him."
She says sharply, to her maid,
"Sing to yourself no more."
Then the maid says, to herself,
"He will be thinking in strange countries
Of the white stones near her door;
But it is me he will see
At the window, as before.
"He will be thinking in strange countries
Of the green gown I wore.
He was saying good-by to her."
The maid drops her eyes and says to her mistress,
"I shall sing to myself no more."

Third Chinese. That affects the white stones,
To be sure. [They laugh.]

First Chinese. And it affects the green gown.