Chapter 77
LOVE.
All ye who came to battle Sorrow's spell, Be with her now. And ye who hold in fee Her happy days, go with her through the years.
I all unseen will guide her destiny.
And when, Princess, I come again to thee, A wors.h.i.+per will follow in my train.
From other lips than mine thou then shalt learn The sweetest and the tenderest tale of all.
MUSIC.
Now let us join with Song. In merry mirth Draw to a fitting close our Interlude.
SONG.
Sorrow reigned her little day Love has driven her far away Brought the suns.h.i.+ne back to Court Thus we end in merry sport.
[_Exeunt ALL._]
_EPILOGUE_
[_Enter JESTER._]
The Tale is over and their parts are done, And Love again has proved the strongest one.
I wonder has it pleased you now to see The oldest tale told thus in phantasy.
And let your answer be whate'er it may, Whether your thumbs be up or down to-day Will hurt not me. I did not write the play.
[THE CURTAIN.]
THE INTRUDER
By MAURICE MAETERLINCK
Maurice Polydore Marie Bernard Maeterlinck, to give him his full baptismal name, was born in Ghent on August 29, 1862. He was sent to the Jesuit College de Sainte-Barbe, the inst.i.tution which another great Belgian, Emile Verhaeren, also attended. In 1885, Maeterlinck entered the University of Ghent to study law, but his practice of this profession was confined to a scant year or two. Maeterlinck's chief interest in his college years seems to have been the modern movement in Belgian literature. But the frequency of his visits to Paris increased in the years between 1886 and 1896, and finally in the latter year he settled there.
The following word picture supplements the photographs of Maeterlinck that are so frequently reproduced in our magazines and newspapers: "Maeterlinck is easily described: a man of about five feet nine in height, inclined to be stout; silver hair lends distinction to the large round head and boyish fresh complexion; blue-gray eyes, now thoughtful, now merry, and an unaffected off-hand manner. The features are not cut, left rather 'in the rough,' as sculptors say, even the heavy jaw and chin are drowned in fat; the forehead bulges and the eyes lose color in the light and seem hard; still, an interesting and attractive personality."
Maeterlinck's fame rests on his poetry and his essays no less than on his plays. _L'Intruse_, _The Intruder_, reprinted here, belongs to the early years of his activity as a playwright. It was printed in 1890 in a Belgian periodical, _La Wallonie_, and was acted for the first time a year later at Paul Fort's Theatre d'Art in Paris, at a performance given for the benefit of the poet, Paul Verlaine, and the painter, Paul Gauguin. Maeterlinck, though publis.h.i.+ng volumes of essays from time to time, continues to write for the theatre.[52] In 1908 _The
[Footnote 52: For bibliography, see Jethro Bith.e.l.l, _Life and Writings of Maurice Maeterlinck_, London and New York, 1913.]
_The Intruder_, the theme of which is the mysterious coming of death, is an ill.u.s.tration of one of Maeterlinck's pet theories in regard to the subject matter of the drama. He expresses it in this way in his famous essay on _The Tragic in Daily Life_: "An old man, seated in his armchair, waiting patiently with his lamp beside him--submitting with bent head to the presence of his soul and his destiny--motionless as he is, does yet live in reality a deeper, more human, more universal life than... the captain who conquers in battle." To plays based on this theory has been given the name "static drama." _The Intruder_ ill.u.s.trates also Maeterlinck's use of symbols. The Grandfather in the play is blind, for instance; blind characters in Maeterlinck's plays are symbols of the spiritual blindness of the human race; the gardener sharpening his scythe stands for death; the mysterious quenching of the lamp--it may have gone out because there was no oil in it--signifies the going out of life.
The problem in the staging of this play is the "creation of a mood or atmosphere, rather than the unfolding of an action." One of the settings used in this country is here reproduced. It was designed for the Arts & Crafts Theatre of Detroit. Sheldon Cheney, whose description of Sam Hume's plastic units for the stage of this Little Theatre is given in the Introduction on page x.x.xi, has described the rearrangement of this equipment and the additions that can be made to it for the production of this play as follows: "For Maeterlinck's _The Intruder_, which demanded a room in an old chateau, one important addition was made, a flat with a door. At the left was the arch, then a pylon and curtain, and then the Gothic window with practicable cas.e.m.e.nts added. The rest of the back wall was made up of the new door-piece flanked by curtains, while the third wall consisted of two pylons and curtains. Stairs and platforms were utilized before the window and under the arch. A small two-stair unit was added, leading to the new door. This arrangement afforded exactly that suggestion of s.p.a.ciousness and mystery for which the play calls." When the play was given at the Independent Theatre in London in 1895, it was played behind a blue gauze curtain.
On one of Maeterlinck's visits to London, he was taken by Alfred Sutro, the dramatist, to call on Barrie in his flat at the Adelphi.
Maeterlinck was asked to write his name on the whitewashed wall of Barrie's studio. He did so and added above the signature: "_Au pere de Peter Pan, et au grandpere de L'Oiseau Bleu._"
THE INTRUDER
CHARACTERS
THE THREE DAUGHTERS.
THE GRANDFATHER.
THE FATHER.
THE UNCLE.
THE SERVANT.
_A dimly lighted room in an old country-house. A door on the right, a door on the left, and a small concealed door in a corner. At the back, stained-gla.s.s windows, in which the color green predominates, and a gla.s.s door opening on to a terrace. A Dutch clock in one corner. A lamp lighted._
THE THREE DAUGHTERS. Come here, grandfather. Sit down under the lamp.
THE GRANDFATHER. There does not seem to me to be much light here.
THE FATHER. Shall we go on to the terrace, or stay in this room?
THE UNCLE. Would it not be better to stay here? It has rained the whole week, and the nights are damp and cold.
THE ELDEST DAUGHTER. Still the stars are s.h.i.+ning.
THE UNCLE. Ah! stars--that's nothing.
THE GRANDFATHER. We had better stay here. One never knows what may happen.
THE FATHER. There is no longer any cause for anxiety. The danger is past, and she is saved....
THE GRANDFATHER. I fancy she is not going on well....
THE FATHER. Why do you say that?
THE GRANDFATHER. I have heard her speak.
THE FATHER. But the doctors a.s.sure us we may be easy....
THE UNCLE. You know quite well that your father-in-law likes to alarm us needlessly.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _Courtesy of Theatre Arts Magazine_
Setting for _The Intruder_ composed of plastic units designed by Sam Hume.]
THE GRANDFATHER. I don't look at these things as you others do.