In literature a drama genre deserves your attention. Dramas are usually called plays. Every person is made up of two parts: good and evil. Due to life circumstances, the human reveals one or another side of his nature. In drama we can see the full range of emotions : it can be love, jealousy, hatred, fear, etc. The best drama books are full of dialogue. This type of drama is one of the oldest forms of storytelling and has existed almost since the beginning of humanity. Drama genre - these are events that involve a lot of people. People most often suffer in this genre, because they are selfish. People always think to themselves first, they want have a benefit.Psychologies by Sir Ross Ronald (the gingerbread man read aloud txt) đź“–
- Author: Sir Ross Ronald
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Book online «Psychologies by Sir Ross Ronald (the gingerbread man read aloud txt) 📖». Author Sir Ross Ronald
But wait and watch him.
(Dansberg rises.)
Dansberg. But wait and watch him.How their whisperings run
Like hissing of live snakes. Where am I then?
I must be cunning. If I could find my stick
I could escape. I think they look not this way.
Icelin.Nay, let him be. You need not fear my lips—
’Tis but a little bleeding.
Dansberg. ’Tis but a little bleeding.Now is the time.
Quick now! Sneak off!
(He knocks against a tree.)
Quick now! Sneak off!A tree. Pest on these leaves,
They crackle so. Again.
(He knocks against another tree.)
They crackle so. Again.A wood, a wood!
O this means murder!
Gorm. O this means murder!Poor old man!
Icelin.The fool!—Stand still there!
Dansberg. Icelin.The fool!—Stand still there!Yes, good daughter, yes.
Hough, hough. I would but stroll—hough, hough, hough—
But stroll a little.
Icelin.Stroll then very little—
There is a pit there.
Dansberg. There is a pit there.Then I’ll not stroll far,
Believe me. Hough, hough, hough.
Icelin(to Gorm). I brought him here
Because I know the pit. Let’s wait a little.
I’ll hear him shriek first.
(She goes to Dansberg.)
I’ll hear him shriek first.When shall I marry Gorm?
Dansberg.I am too old to set myself against you.
Yet your young life I would not give to him—
My daughter’s daughter. Hough. But lead me home.
Enough the jest. To-morrow I will grant it.
I am too old, too old to struggle with you.
The cold is bitter in this mildewy wood,
And my feet numb. Why will you linger still?
Am I not blind?
Icelin. Am I not blind?Then I may marry him?
Dansberg. Icelin. Am I not blind?Then I may marry him?Yes.
Icelin.And may I have my mother’s silks you keep
In lavender?
Dansberg. Hough, hough, hough. You wicked girl!
She was an angel, and you shall not have them—
Hough, hough—at least until I’ve sorted them.
(She slaps him.)
Icelin.Sort that then!
Dansberg. Icelin.Sort that then!Someone strikes me.
Icelin. Dansberg. Icelin.Sort that then!Someone strikes me.That, again!
Dansberg.Someone has struck me! Shame!—a poor old man!
Icelin.Let your cheeks burn for it then.
Dansberg. Icelin.Let your cheeks burn for it then.You struck me, sir.
You cowardly dog.
Gorm. You cowardly dog.Hold, Icelin.
Icelin. Gorm. You cowardly dog.Hold, Icelin.I am sick
At sight of him. It was I who struck you.
Dansberg. At sight of him. It was I who struck you.Yes.
’Twas she who struck me.
Icelin. ’Twas she who struck me.And I will again.
Dansberg.Then I will turn to you my other cheek,
You have not struck yet.
Icelin. You have not struck yet.There, then!
Dansberg. Icelin. You have not struck yet.There, then!See, O God!
Gorm.She is a wolf.
Dansberg. Gorm.She is a wolf.God is not blind as I am.
(A pause.)
My daughter’s daughter struck me. Therefore I know
That she would kill me. Kill me, then, and quickly,
That I may go to God with branded cheeks
To plead compassion for me—for I’ve done
Sins in this world. But who would punish me—
More—after this? Now let me die. I wait.
(Silence. A gust of wind blows through the forest.)
Come, kill me then. I am no coward. Hush!
No answer. What if they have left me here
To die in th’ wood? And yet I dare not move.
She said there is a pit beside me close,
Where I might fall. If I could find my stick,
I could escape, perhaps, and follow them.
(He gropes for his stick.)
(A second gust of wind blows through the forest.)
Oh, evil, evil! She has hid it—O!—
I hear a sigh that shudders thro’ the air.
’Tis night. I have no eyes and yet can see
The night. Oh, it is night for me for ever.
Night, night and age, and endless weight of silence,
Save but for far low voices faintly heard.
Great age, great age! and bright scenes long ago,
Seen like the sunshine at a cavern’s mouth
To one endungeon’d there for ever. Ah!
That vision too must end.
(A third gust of wind.)
Sigh, shuddering Wind
Sigh, shuddering WindSigh for the old man sightless. Sigh, O Wind,
Sigh for the old man sightless. Sink and die,
And pass away.
Icelin. And pass away.Let’s push him now.
Gorm. Icelin. And pass away.Let’s push him now.Enough!
Have you no heart?
Icelin. Have you no heart?A heart? What is a heart?
I have a lump of ice here in my breast
That freezes me. Except for you—for you.
(She kisses Gorm.)
You tremble! Do you tremble?
Gorm. You tremble! Do you tremble?Yes, I tremble.
Icelin.Are you a coward?
Gorm. Yes, a coward. See!
Dansberg.Help! Jansen there! They murder me! Hough, hough.
I cannot shout, for when I shout I cough.
Help, help! Hough, hough.
(He staggers to and fro.)
Icelin. Help, help! Hough, hough.Come, father, here’s my arm.
Why do you shout?
Dansberg. Why do you shout?I shout because I die.
Icelin.I am your daughter.
Dansberg. Icelin.I am your daughter.Are you my daughter, ’Linde?
My daughter’s spirit?
Icelin. My daughter’s spirit?Yes.
Dansberg. Icelin. My daughter’s spirit?Yes.I know your voice!
(She leads him toward the pit.)
No! You are not my daughter. Your arm’s too thin!
Help, God! Make me a miracle now to save me,
Since man will not; or I will cry aloud
There is no God in all this black, black world.
Send me a flash to light me out of this,
Here where I stagger thus in solid night,
Like some dumb creature in the huntsman’s pit.
Send fiery-urgent lightnings to mine aid,
Revealing Heaven, until this forest stands,
Each tree a flaming angel for a torch.
Oh! oh! the air is full of murder!—Not yet,
O Death, not yet! I am too young to die!
See, Heaven, my heart is beating still with blood.
When that the heart is bloodless, ’twill be time
To die!
Icelin.Come, father, come; why do you shriek
So much?
Dansberg. I shriek because I die.
Gorm. Beware!
There is a pit there!
Dansberg. There is a pit there!Oh, He answers not!
In my youth’s days I did forget Him; now
In this mine age He hath forgotten me.
(A pause.)
Away! God or no God, I’ll save myself!
(He runs forward wildly and falls into the pit.)
(Silence.)
Icelin. Down there. Down. Down. Mark now, I pushed him not.
He ran from me and fell. You saw it. I knew
That he would die like this. You called me child.
Am I so young then? I am no child—a woman!
See with what skill I’ve brought you to your fortune.
Now I shall wear those silks and damascenes,
And all these lands be yours. Thus, with this kiss
I seal it.
Gorm. Away!
Icelin. Gorm. Away!What?
Gorm. Icelin. Gorm. Away!What?Wolf!
Icelin. Gorm. Icelin. Gorm. Away!What?Wolf!What?
Gorm. Icelin. Gorm. Icelin. Gorm. Away!What?Wolf!What?Wolf, wolf, wolf!
Your teeth are white but pointed like a wolf’s.
Your face is white but both your lips are red—
So bleeding red! I have my sword—away!
Or I will stab you! Even by this light
There’s blood upon your lips—and some of it
Burns on me now. Your race’s blood is poison—
His, yours, and all your race’s. You’re a witch;
A wolf, a witch, a witch! I have my sword—
So follow not! A witch, a witch, a witch!
Your blood is poison and your heart is ice!
(He flies into the forest.)
(Icelin remains standing. The ravens perch on the boughs above her head.)
(She shrieks.)
Icelin.My blood is poison and my heart is ice!
A witch, a wolf, a witch, a wolf, a witch!
My teeth are pointed like a wolf’s. A witch!
My face is white, my lips are bleeding red,
My blood is poison, and my heart is ice.
A witch, a wolf, a witch, a wolf, a witch,
A wolf! I follow then! I will devour you!
I’ll follow you about the world—and eat you!
(She bounds into the forest after Gorm. The ravens follow her.)
THE MARSHMelfort.
EvaĂŻd.
The Chorus of the Marsh.
A Marsh. Midnight and the setting moon.
Enter Melfort, plunging about in water.
(A cry is heard.)
Melfort.Who cries! In the night and the silence—who cries!
Chorus.SĂşmph, sĂşmph, sĂşmph, sĂşmph.
Melfort.What was it?
Melfort.What was it?I hear but the whine of the wind
And the croak of the frogs in the grass. No more?
Chorus.SĂşmph, sĂşmph, sĂşmph, sĂşmph.
Melfort.It was a sound of the pestilent fen;
The cry of a leveret lost from his lair,
Or scream of an adder-stung toad.
Or scream of an adder-stung toad.But soft.
The moon dies, and I sink each step
More deeply, and have missed my way.
The temperate candles of the town
Are lost, and I but see around me
The hectic fen-fires dancing. Ho!
What ho!
Chorus.SĂşmph, sĂşmph, sĂşmph,
SĂşmph.
Melfort. No answer; no one comes.
It is the marsh, and I am in it
Right to the knees. This pays me well
For thinking of the bonny bride
And all her train of rosy maids,
When I should mark the way. But on—
Though my poor wedding shoes be done for
Ah, pah!—my brain is full of wine,
And all my being ripe for love.
Wine, wine, and marriage, and I best-man;
And liquor goes badly under the stars.
Young; rich for a farmer—well, who knows
But I too, myself, may be wedded soon.
(A shriek is heard.)
Who shrieks?
Chorus. Who shrieks?SĂşmph, sĂşmph, sĂşmph,
SĂşmph.
Melfort. My God, it was behind me!
That sobers me!—Ho there, who shrieks?—
It is too near. What, am I drunk?
Am I sick? Do I reel?—The acid cry
Ran like a curdle through the blood.
Soft, soft, I must enquire here more.
A murder!—There, I am afraid
And wither where I stand; unarm’d—
But yet I’ll venture further. So!
A woman’s cry, touching the quick.
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