'A Comedy of Errors' in Seven Acts by Spokeshave (primary phonics books txt) 📖

Caesar soliloquizing:

Life is a problem intricate to solve:

With outstretched arms to grasp, we know not what

From out the future hidden by a veil

With woof too dense for eye of man to pierce;

Yet doth imagination pictures forms

Which, when we would embrace, evade our touch

And vanish into nothingness; while still

We vain pursuit ever persistent make.

Euclid from chaos order did evolve

And on the scroll of Fame hath writ those laws

Which Time, relentless, ne'er can thence efface.

For Truth, immutable, is there entombed.

But he, in flawless mental armor robed,

Did crusade make where Science hath her home,

And from her vaults where Truth was close entombed

He raped their locks and brought the treasure forth.

Long mankind groped in darkness, nor did dream

That laws harmonious could measure space

And count the cycles that should hail return

Of each recurring comet on its round.

Thus deep uncertainty enrobeth man:

He comes like morning bringing with him light;

He goes like evening, ent'ring portals dark

Where none can track him to his final doom

And know that Immortality's kind arms

Shall hug him to her breast and bear him on

To Fields whose verdure wears a brighter hue,

Or whether Entity shall on the wings

Of fickle Fate be borne to final rest,

Who shall the mystery of being solve?

We see the birdling break from prison shell

And dream that we have found the source of life.

Vain thought! the egg were but a cunning mask

Which Nature wears to hide her handiwork.

The spark electric issues from its cell

Clothed with a pow'r the jealous gods might crave;

But when or how it entity conceived,

Is hid within creation's caverns deep.

Now, in the realm of pow'r politic, reigns

The God of Chaos anchor'd to his throne,

And it remains for one of giant mind,

Well disciplined in all scholastic lore,

To break the chains which hold that anchor fast,

And crush the Pow'r disordered seated there.

Am I the instrument designed by Fate

To, Euclid-like, from this anarchic whole

Evolve the laws which shall Disorder deep

Within the grave entomb and on that throne

The God of Order seat, and in his hand

Imperial scepter place, to rule the world

Politic, as it on its axis rolls,

Unharmed by venomed darts of turpitude?

I dreamed of formulating certain laws

Which economic matters would control.

The midnight lamp, companion of my toil,

Has burned in vain. Alas, I see it now.

When the great "Commoner," of wisdom full,

A plank within our platform did insert

That our good ships which coastwise trade would ply

Should float as free as sea-gull on the wing

Through that deep channel, by our cunning wrought,

Which links Pacific's waters to the Gulf,

I, fool-like, did him earnestly applaud!

Again my soul in bitterness doth surge

Because from distant Isles the lightning brings

Dire words of sour complaint from either clan,

Which like to gladiators in the ring

Seem but prepared to battle to the death.

I listened to the frail but honeyed words

Of one who held a judgeship in that clime,

Only to find disgruntlement their source;

And now it shames me, who have been cock-sure,

That I should failure see emblazoned there.

How could I prudence thus have cast aside

And now my stomach fill with humble pie?

Alas! my dreams that fed on self-esteem

Are vanished as the dew before the sun.

(With energy)

Another plank I'll wrench with giant hand.

And wreck the platform, "if I bust a gut."

(Exit to drink an orangeade to quiet his nerves.)

Scene II: The Governor's room.

Quezox:   My Liege this Printus stands without the door,

And seeks admission that he may explain

His conduct. Shall I, bid him enter here?

Francos: In sooth, good Quezox, doth my spirit yearn

To quick despatch my business with this man.

(Quezox retires and fetches Printus)

Quezox:   Most noble Sire, this gentleman attends?

Francos: Sir, from thy mouth I explanation ask

As to the import of a message sent

To high officials of some labor bund

Voicing complaint anent my conduct here.

Printus:   In truth, I little know of this affair.

These men a grievance feel, for they did come

At my behest on weighty promise made

To fill positions which experts alone

Are proper occupants; and now they fear

Their stipends may be cut with pruner's knife,

Which to them each important loss portends

And dire discomfort work on those they love.

Francos: Hold, Printus, hold! Thy words were idle chaff.

Dost thou deny the allegation made

That to the message thy consent wast had?

Printus:   I no participation in it took!

Francos: (severely:)

Thy words do seem to have a double ring.

But hie thee hence, while I investigate.

The Democratic creed doth only know

Complete submission on the henchman's part

To him who momentary at the helm

Doth guide the ship of state through calm and storm.

To think in words, disloyalty proclaims;

But act subservient fealty do prove.

(Exit Printus)

Quezox:   Most noble Sire, thy courage I admire

But Somnolent doth wait without the door.

Francos: Ha! He doth quickly to my call respond,

But bid him enter. I will quick despatch

The matter which thy urgent hopes demand.

(Enter Quezox and Somnolent)

Quezox:   Sire, here is he who holds our wide domain

Within the hollow of his cunning hand.

Francos: Sweet sire, an era new we usher in,

And knowing well that thou dost entertain

Oposing views upon a vital point,

Twere best for thee to cast the mantle off.

Somnolent: In sooth, good sir, I find our minds as one.

If Quezox's methods shall perchance obtain,

'Twere better that some henchman of his choice

Should do untieing of his fiscal knots.

(Exit Somnolent)

Quezox:   Sire, in the anteroom doth stand McDuff,

With bearing like a criminal of state,

Sustained by stubborn pride as he doth walk

With measured, kingly step unto the block.

Francos: Go bid him enter, and on thy return,

Take precedence; twere well to demonstrate

The high esteem which Caesar for thee feels

And give his party pride a parting dig.

(Enter Quezox and McDuff)

Quezox:   My Liege, McDuff, who fills a council seat

Within the party which has long controlled

Affairs politic in these tropic Isles,

Would fain resign the office he now holds.

Francos, consolingly: Events march on, and as the whirligig

Of time revolves, so 'tis with politics.

To-day one soars aloft on Vict'ry's wings;

Tomorrow Fate those pinions proud may clip.

'Tis here Philosophy a cooling draught

Kindly present to him who, from his seat,

Is thrust by Fortune's hand, which killeth not,

But only girds our loins for battles new.

McDuff:  Sir Governor, thy words with wisdom teem.

I threw the gauge of battle in the ring,

And for each thrust the enemy did give

I parried, and with vigor did return

Each lunge in kind, and now my

Medicine I gulp and whimper not.

But look ye, sir! the wheel that now hath turned

May grind us all between its cruel cogs.

(Exit McDuff)

Quezox to Francos, exultingly:

A mighty day! a glorious day is here!

But, Sire, the cleansing work is but begun.

A joyful paean swells within my breast,

And I must mouth it, else this heart will burst!

(Sings)

We'll smite the grafters; smite them hip and thigh;

Our motto shall be ever, "Do or die."

We've got 'em on the run,

And with every rising sun,

We'll oil the new machine;

Its blade we'll sharpen keen.

Revenge shall fill the goblet to the brim,

And "Pleasure saturnine" shall be our hymn.

Francos, applauding:

'Twere well, sweet Quezox! Thou in happy tone

Hast voiced a noble sentiment in rhyme.

But lurking in my mem'ry it doth seem

That I recall in part those words so apt.

(Francos and Quezox embrace and retire.)