Genre Drama. Page - 1
is in no true sense the invention of the author; and The Little Clay Cart is the only drama of invention which is "full of rascals."
But a spirit so powerful as that of King Shudraka could not be confined within the strait-jacket of the minute, and sometimes puerile, rules of the technical works. In the very title of the drama, he has disregarded the rule that the name of a drama of invention should be formed by compounding the names of heroine and hero. Again, the books prescribe that the hero shall appear in every act; yet Charudatta does not appear in acts ii., iv., vi., and viii. And further, various characters, Vasantasena, Maitreya, the courtier, and others, have vastly gained because they do not conform too closely to the technical definitions.
The characters of The Little Clay Cart are living men and women. Even when the type makes no strong appeal to Western minds, as in the case of Charudatta, the character lives, in a sense in which Dushyanta or even Rama can
m nothingbut horrors, he may well ask--"Where's the entertainment for the manwho wants an evening's amusement?" The humor of a farce may not seemover-refined to a particular class of intelligence; but there arethousands of people who take an honest pleasure in it. And who, afterseeing my old friend J.L. Toole in some of his famous parts, andhaving laughed till their sides ached, have not left the theatre morebuoyant and light-hearted than they came? Well, if the stage hasbeen thus useful and successful all these centuries, and still isproductive; if the noble fascination of the theatre draws to it, as weknow that it does, an immortal poet such as our Tennyson, whom, I cantestify from my own experience, nothing delights more than the successof one of the plays which, in the mellow autumn of his genius, he hascontributed to the acting theatre; if a great artist like Tadema isproud to design scenes for stage plays; if in all departments of stageproduction we see great talent, and in nearly every i
: "No; if it happened to strike on that train anywhere, itmight spoil one of the folds. I can't risk it." A ring is heard atthe apartment door. They spring to their feet simultaneously.
MRS. ROBERTS: "There's Aunt Mary now!" She calls into thevestibule, "Aunt Mary!"
DR. LAWTON, putting aside the vestibule portiere, with affectedtimidity: "Very sorry. Merely a father."
MRS. ROBERTS: "Oh! Dr. Lawton? I am so glad to see you!" Shegives him her hand: "I thought it was my aunt. We can't understandwhy she hasn't come. Why! where's Miss Lawton?"
LAWTON: "That is precisely what I was going to ask you."
MRS. ROBERTS: "Why, she isn't here."
LAWTON: "So it seems. I left her with the carriage at the door whenI started to walk here. She called after me down the stairs that shewould be ready in three seconds, and begged me to hurry, so that wecould come in together, and not let people know I'd saved half adollar by walking."
MRS. ROBERTS: "SHE'S been detained too!"
Miss DORA BARTON.Jane Miss FORRESTER.
The Play produced under the direction of Mr. H. DE LANGE.
The ACTION of the play takes place in Denham's Studio inLondon, at the PRESENT DAY.
The Black Cat.
_Scene: Denham's Studio. Large highlight window in sloping roof atback. Under it, in back wall, door to landing. L of thedoor the corner is curtained off for model's dressing-room.R of door a large Spanish leather folding screen, whichruns on castors, shuts off from the door the other corner, in whichis a "throne," pushed up against the wall. Above the "throne" hangsa large square mirror in a carved black frame. In front of the"throne" is a light couch of Greek form, without back._
_Fireplace, with chimney-breasts panelled in old oak, and highovermantel, in which are shelves and cupboards, L._
_Against R wall an old oak cabinet, with carved cornice,and inlaid panelled doors. Close beside it stands on a pedestal abust o
Nay, old friend--[to ALCIMEDON, who wants to break in; then to ORESTES again]--though you slay us all, you have but lost the food and shelter we had given you; and the shedder of blood escapes not the Dread Watchers.
[Who had been cooling, starts and threatens her.] What know you of the Dread Watchers?
And there is little glory in the slaying of a woman, and little gain.
[Wildly.] What woman? Who are you that taunt me? Priest, is this your witch?
[Angrily.] She is no witch! You lie, both stranger and priest!
I am a bondwoman of the King.
Andromache, once wife of Hector, Prince of Troy.
And am I to be the guest of a bondwoman?
There are others of free estate who will take you in. I only sought to save men's lives.
What worth are men