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.All cry aloud in rapture: The Saviour! Praisefaint red spark visible in the darkness, above the silver to the Lord! The Saviour of the City of Blabre! Glory tospark.) the Lord God Most High! etc., in a violent and confusedThe Fool: It is the blood of the veins of your mad eyes.manner.The clamor makes no impression upon the dignity(The light increases through the eastern window, very and immobility of the newcomer.)slowly.) The Herald (rushing to the west window, and blowing aThe Most Reverend Elder: O Lord! Wilt thou not have tremendous blast upon his trumpet): Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Re-mercy upon thy chosen people? Wilt thou not remember thy joice, we conquer! The Saviour of the City hath appeared inpeople in the hour of their extremity? the Chamber of the Council of the fathers of the City! Re-Chorus: O Lord! O our Lord God! is there no help for the joice, we conquer! (He blows another yet more joyful blast.city? Cries of joy without; the people raise the National hymn.(A pause.All bend deeper, muttering in prayer.The moon- The Elders continue their confused cries of rapture.Thelight strikes the roof of the council-chamber.The Fool re- Herald returns.) Hail, Saviour of Blabre!turns to the western window.) (A standard bearer, and two soldiers, of the Gnogues en-The Fool: The captains turn to the ranks; they exhort their ter.The former bears the banner of black; the latter drag bymen to be pitiless.The spearmen charge their pikes, and the her long fair hair a young girl of the people of Blabre.Be-swordsmen raise the scramasax.hind these are as many other soldiers as may be convenient.The Most Venerable Elder: Where is the sword of the At the same moment the Saviour slowly raises his visor.(TheseLord? and the battleaxe in the hands of the Saviour? two directions must be carefully synchronized.) He is seen to(Moonlight now floods the council-chamber, but as a dif- be of the race of the Gnogues.)fused gleam.) The King of the Gnogues (without excitement, but in theThe Most Reverend Elder (furiously, to the Prophet): peculiar harsh intonation which is natural to Gnogues): PutThou hast lied in the name of the Lord! every living thing to the sword; burn every building with(The door opens.There enters a man of gigantic stature.fire; efface the City of Blabre from the memory of man.(HeHe is clad in silver armour.On his head is a helmet with pinches the cheek of the Young Plump Elder, who like theclosed visor above which towers a dragon of rubies.He moves rest is paralyzed by the horror of the situation.) Roast meto the center of the stage, near the footlights, and turns to this man for supper! Let him be larded with the fat of thisface east.The moon, rising through the window, throws him young girl, when I have finished with her.into startlingly bright light.In his hand is a naked sword, (The standard-bearer goes to the window, and signals.)and in the crook of his left arm rests a battleaxe.He surveys (The National Hymn turns to shrieks, which mingle withthe scene with perfect self-possession.) the roar of the charging Gnogues.)The Herald (who has been passionately gazing out to the The Prophet (above the tumult, an ecstasy of joy thrillingeast, now turning, and so the first to observe him, as the his hollow voice): Woe unto Blabre! Woe to the wicked City!Elders are all in prayer, the Fool watching the market-place, (The curtain falls quickly.) THE STIRRUP CUP.By S.J.ALEXANDER.Alack! Tis a mad world, with mad gods above it, Though they rive the pole star from the chains of its mooring,Who weep for it, laugh for it, loathe it and love it, The soul is beyond them, supreme and enduring;Creating in jest, in a phantasy breaking, Above and beyond their desire and endeavor,Like petulant children, the toys of their making.It sweeps in wide circles for ever and ever.When they struck from their souls the hot spark of our being, Then, here s to Our Gods, though they bend us and break us,It flashed from their clutches beyond their foreseeing.Though they torture and slay, yet they cannot unmake us.They dreamed their gods dreams, and beheld in the vision And here s to the grace of the cup that they pour us,Their toy puppets dance on their string of derision.The Black Stirrup Cup for the journey before us;They worked their gods work, all unwotting the sequel; Drink deeply and pledge them, resigned, or defying,We are soul of Their Soul and inherently equal.A Health to Our Gods! We salute them in dying.82 THE INTERNATIONAL 83ELDER EEL.A SKETCH BY LORD BOLESKINE.PERSONS OF THE SKETCH.TONGS: The rantin roarin lion!MR.MEEK, the Minister.GRAB: Ah! d ye ken the noo wha the meenister meant byMR.DOSE, the Doctor.Sennacherib?MR.BONES, the Butcher.ALL: Ah!MR.BUN, the Baker.GRAB: D ye mind Sennacherib was King o Babylon?MR.CHIPS, the Carpenter.ALL: Ah!MR.TONGS, the Tinker.GRAB: D ye ken Ah! here comes Elder Eel, the guid man.MR.GRAB, the Grocer.He ll tell t e.He s seen wi his ain een!MR.AWL, the Cobbler.(Enter L.Elder Eel is very tall and thin and lantern-jawed,Women, including JEANNIE MACKAY.more solemn and portentous than the others.)ELDER EEL, the Exciseman, GRAB: The Blessin o the Lord be on ye, Elder.Will ye telland the fowk o the terrible scandal in Houghmagandie?LILITH.EEL: The han o the Lord is heavy upon us for oor sins.SCENE: The Market-place of the village of Houghmagandie.ALL: Ay! Ay!(Enter L., Bones, Bun, Chips, Tongs, and Grab.All are dressed GRAB: We are but puir sinners.in the black shiny clothes conventional on Sundays in the prov- EEL: Ay! we deserve it.But our punishment is greater than weinces.They are followed by a number of women dressed with can bear.equal propriety, who enter the houses that surround the market- ALL: Woe unto us!place, and disappear.One of them, Jeannie Mackay, walks apart, EEL: Wi these een hae I seen it! Alack the day! My brethren,and as if ashamed of herself.The scene is one of characteristic d ye ken wha s ta en the lodging ower Awl s shop?Sabbath gloom.The men carry immense black Bibles.They walk BONES: When?very slowly and heavily.) EEL: Last nicht.The very eve o the Blessed Sabbath! (AllBONES: A stirring discourse.groan.)CHIPS: Ay! the meenister was juist gran.CHIPS: Wha then?TONGS: Losh! But that was guid aboot the destruction o EEL: The Hoor o Babylon!Sennacherib.ALL: The Hoor o Babylon!BUN: Ay! EEL: A wanton, forward wench! A Babylonish harlot!GRAB: D ye ken what he meant? BONES: The Lord ha mercy on us!ALL: Ay! Ay! Ay! EEL: An actress body!GRAB: D ye ken what he meant? ALL: The Lord ha mercy on us!BONES: Ay! the meenister s verra clear.CHIPS: Fra Glasgie, I doot?GRAB: Na! Na! but d ye ken he was drivin the arrow of the EEL: Waur!Wurrd to oor ain hairts? ALL: Waur?BONES: Ay! But what d ye mean? EEL: Waur!(Enter R., Awl.He is a tall, sprightly man in a decent suit of BUN: No fra Lunnon, Elder? It s main impawsible!tweeds, and he is smoking a pipe.All turn from him as if he were EEL: Waur!a leper.) BONES: It canna be! It canna be!AWL: A braw day the day! EEL: Waur.Far waur!GRAB: Is this a day to be ta king o days? (All groan.) TONGS: Hoots! but we maun ha fallen into terrible sin.AWL: This is the Lord s day, and A m thankin Him for his BONES: Fra whaur? In the Lord s name, mon, tell.We re fairguid gift o tobacco.distrachit
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