A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W Y Z

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).


Books: If

L >> Lord Dunsany >> If

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5



A BISHAREEN

He is not there, master.

HAFIZ

Not there? Not there? Why, there is no
door beyond. He must needs be there, and
his chief spy with him.

SHEIK [off]

He is not here.

MIRALDA [turning round and clawing the wall]

O, I was weary of him. I was weary of him.

HAFIZ

Be comforted, pearl of the morning; he is
gone.

MIRALDA

When I am weary of a man he must die.

[He embraces her knees.]

ZAGBOOLA [who has come on with a little crowd
that followed the BISHAREENS. She is
blind.]

Lead me to Hafiz. I am the mother of
Hafiz. Lead me to Hafiz. [They lead her
near.] Hafiz! Hafiz!

[She finds his shoulder and tries to drag
him away.]

HAFIZ

Go! Go! I have found the sole pearl of
the innermost deeps of the sea.

[He is kneeling and kissing MIRALDA's
hand. ZAGBOOLA wails.]

Curtain

ACT IV

SCENE 1

Three years elapse.

Scene: The street outside the Acacias.

Time: Evening.

[Ali leans on a pillar-box watching.
John shuffles on L. He is miserably
dressed, an Englishman down on his luck.
A nightingale sings far off.]

JOHN

A nightingale here. Well, I never.

Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir,
The nightingales that guard thy ways
Cease not to give thee, after God
And after Paradise, all praise. . .

The infernal place! I wish I had never
seen it! Wonder what set me thinking of
that?

[The nightingale sings another bar.
JOHN turns to his left and walks down the
little path that leads to the door of the
Acacias.]

I mustn't come here. Mustn't come to a
fine house like this. Mustn't. Mustn't.

[He draws near it reluctantly. He puts
his hand to the bell and withdraws it.
Then he rings and snatches his hand away.
He prepares to run away. Finally he rings
it repeatedly, feverishly, violently.

Enter LIZA, opening the door.]

LIZA

Ullo, 'Oo's this!

JOHN

I oughtn't to have rung, miss, I know. I
oughtn't to have rung your bell; but I've
seen better days, and wondered if--I
wondered . . .

LIZA

I oughtn't to 'ave opened the door, that's
wot I oughtn't. Now I look at you, I
oughtn't to 'ave opened it. Wot does you
want?

JOHN

O, don't turn me away now, miss. I must
come here. I must.

LIZA

Must? Why?

JOHN

I don't know.

LIZA

Wot do you want?

JOHN

Who lives here?

LIZA

Mr. and Mrs. Cater; firm of Briggs, Cater,
and Johnstone. What do you want?

JOHN

Could I see Mr. Cater?

LIZA

He's out. Dining at the Mansion House.

JOHN

Oh.

LIZA

He is.

JOHN

Could I see Mrs. Cater?

LIZA

See Mrs. Cater? No, of course you
couldn't.

[She prepares to shut the door.]

JOHN

Miss! Miss! Don't go, miss. Don't shut
me out. If you knew what I'd suffered, if
you knew what I'd suffered. Don't!

LIZA [coming forward again]

Suffered? Why? Ain't you got enough to
eat?

JOHN

No, I've had nothing all day.

LIZA

'Aven't you really now?

JOHN

No. And I get little enough at any time.

LIZA [kindly]

You ought to work.

JOHN

I . . . I can't. I can't bring myself . . .
I've seen better times.

LIZA

Still, you could work.

JOHN

I--I can't grub for halfpennies when I've
--when I've . . .

LIZA

When you've what?

JOHN

Lost millions.

LIZA

Millions?

JOHN

I've lost everything.

LIZA

'Ow did you lose it?

JOHN

Through being blind. But never mind,
never mind. It's all gone now, and I'm
hungry.

LIZA

'Ow long 'ave you been down on your luck?

JOHN

It's three years now.

LIZA

Couldn't get a regular job, like?

JOHN

Well, I suppose I might have. I suppose
it's my fault, miss. But the heart was out of
me.

LIZA

Dear me, now.

JOHN

Miss.

LIZA

Yes?

JOHN

You've a kind face . . .

LIZA

'Ave I?

JOHN

Yes. Would you do me a kind turn?

LIZA

Well, I dunno. I might, as yer so down
on yer luck--I don't like to see a man like
you are, I must say.

JOHN

Would you let me come into the big house
and speak to the missus a moment?

LIZA

She'd row me awful if I did. This house is
very respectable.

JOHN

I feel, if you would, I feel, I feel my luck
might change.

LIZA

But I don't know what she'd say if I did.

JOHN

Miss, I must.

LIZA

I don't know wot she'd say.

JOHN

I must come in, miss, I must.

LIZA

I don't know what she'll say.

JOHN

I must. I can't help myself.

LIZA

I don't know what she'll . . .

[JOHN is in, door shuts.]

[ALI throws his head up and laughs,
but quite silently.]

Curtain

SCENE 2

The drawing-room at the Acacias.

A moment later.

The scene is the same as in Act I, except
that the sofa which was red is now green,
and the photograph of Aunt Martha is
replaced by that of a frowning old colonel.
The ages of the four children in the
photographs are the same, but their sexes have
changed.

[MARY reading. Enter LIZA.]

LIZA

There's a gentleman to see you, mum,
which is, properly speaking, not a gentleman
at all, but 'e would come in, mum.

MARY

Not a gentleman! Good gracious, Liza,
whatever do you mean?

LIZA

'E would come in, mum.

MARY

But what does he want?

LIZA [over shoulder]

What does you want?

JOHN [entering]

I am a beggar.

MARY

O, really? You've no right to be coming
into houses like this, you know.

JOHN

I know that, madam, I know that. Yet
somehow I couldn't help myself. I've been
begging for nearly three years now, and I've
never done this before, yet somehow to-night
I felt impelled to come to this house. I beg
your pardon, humbly. Hunger drove me to
it.

MARY

Hunger?


JOHN

I'm very hungry, madam.

MARY

Unfortunately Mr. Cater has not yet
returned, or perhaps he might . . .

JOHN

If you could give me a little to eat
yourself, madam, a bit of stale bread, a crust,
something that Mr. Cater would not want.

MARY

It's very unusual, coming into a house like
this and at such an hour--it's past eleven
o'clock--and Mr. Cater not yet returned.
Are you really hungry?

JOHN

I'm very, very hungry.

MARY

Well, it's very unusual; but perhaps I
might get you a little something.

[She picks up an empty plate from the
supper table.]

JOHN

Madam, I do not know how to thank you.

MARY

O, don't mention it.

JOHN

I have not met such kindness for three
years. I . . . I'm starving. I've known
better times.

MARY [kindly]

I'll get you something. You've known
better times, you say?

JOHN

I had been intended for work in the City.
And then, then I travelled, and--and I got
very much taken with foreign countries, and
I thought--but it all went to pieces. I lost
everything. Here I am, starving.

MARY [as one might reply to the Mayoress who
had lost her gloves]

O, I'm so sorry.

[JOHN sighs deeply.]

MARY

I'll get a nice bit of something to eat.

JOHN

A thousand thanks to you, madam.

[Exit MARY with the plate.]

LIZA [who has been standing near the door all the
time]

Well, she's going to get you something.

JOHN

Heaven reward her.

LIZA

Hungry as all that?

JOHN

I'm on my beam ends.

LIZA

Cheer up!

JOHN

That's all very well to say, living in a fine
house, as you are, dry and warm and well-fed.
But what have I to cheer up about?

LIZA

Isn't there anything you could pop?

JOHN

What?

LIZA

Nothing you can take to the pawn-shop?
I've tided over times I wanted a bit of cash
that way sometimes.

JOHN

What could I pawn?

LIZA

Well, well you've a watch-chain.

JOHN

A bit of old leather.

LIZA

But what about the watch?

JOHN

I've no watch.

LIZA

O, funny having a watch-chain then.

JOHN

O, that's only for this; it's a bit of crystal.

LIZA

Funny bit of a thing. What's it for?

JOHN

I don't know.

LIZA

Was it give to you?

JOHN

I don't know. I don't know how I got it.

LIZA

Don't know how you got it?

JOHN

No, I can't remember at all. But I've a
feeling about it, I can't explain what I feel;
but I don't part with it.

LIZA

Don't you? You might get something on
it, likely and have a square meal.

JOHN

I won't part with it.

LIZA

Why?

JOHN

I feel I won't. I never have.

LIZA

Feel you won't?

JOHN

Yes, I have that feeling very strongly.
I've kept it always. Everything else is gone.

LIZA

Had it long?

JOHN

Yes, yes. About ten years. I found I had
it one morning in a train. It's odd that I
can't remember.

LIZA

But wot d'yer keep it for?

JOHN

Just for luck.

[LIZA breaks into laughter.]

LIZA

Well, you are funny.

JOHN

I'm on my beam ends. I don't know if that is funny.

LIZA

You're as down in your luck as ever you
can be, and you go keeping a thing like that
for luck. Why, you couldn't be funnier.

JOHN

Well, what would you do?

LIZA

Why, I 'ad a mascot once, all real gold; and
I had rotten luck. Rotten luck I had.
Rotten.

JOHN

And what did you do?

LIZA

Took it back to the shop.

JOHN

Yes?

LIZA

They was quite obliging about it. Gave
me a wooden one instead, what was
guaranteed. Luck changed very soon altogether.

JOHN

Could luck like mine change?

LIZA

Course it could.

JOHN

Look at me.

LIZA

You'll be all right one of these days. Give
me that mascot.

JOHN

I--I hardly like to. One has an awfully
strong feeling with it.

LIZA

Give it to me. It's no good.

JOHN

I--I don't like to.

LIZA

You just give it to me. I tell you it's doing
you no good. I know all about them mascots.
Give it me.

JOHN

Well, I'll give it you. You're the
first woman that's been kind to me since
. . . I'm on my beam ends.

[Face in hands--tears.]

LIZA

There, there. I'm going to smash it, I am.
These mascots! One's better without 'em.
Your luck'll turn, never fear. And you've a
nice supper coming.

[She puts it in a corner of the
mantelpiece and hammers it. It smashes.

The photographs of the four children
change slightly. The Colonel gives place
to Aunt Martha. The green sofa turns red.
JOHN's clothes become neat and tidy. The
hammer in LIZA's hand turns to a feather
duster. Nothing else changes.]

A VOICE [off, in agony]

Allah! Allah ! Allah!

LIZA

Some foreign gentleman must have hurt
himself.

JOHN

H'm. Sounds like it . . . Liza.

[LIZA, dusting the photographs on the
wall, just behind the corner of the
mantelpiece.]

LIZA

Funny. Thought I--thought I 'ad a
hammer in my hand.

JOHN

Really, Liza, I often think you have. You
really should be more careful. Only--only
yesterday you broke the glass of Miss Jane's
photograph.

LIZA

Thought it was a hammer.

JOHN

Really, I think it sometimes is. It's a
mistake you make too often, Liza. You--you
must be more careful.

LIZA

Very well, sir. Funny my thinking I 'ad
an 'ammer in my 'and, though.

[She goes to tidy the little supper table.
Enter MARY with food on a plate.]

MARY

I've brought you your supper, John.

JOHN

Thanks, Mary. I--I think I must have
taken a nap.

MARY

Did you, dear? Thanks, Liza. Run along
to bed now, Liza. Good gracious, it's
half-past eleven.

[MARY makes final arrangements of
supper table.]

LIZA

Thank you, mum.

[Exit ]

JOHN

Mary.

MARY

Yes, John.

JOHN

I--I thought I'd caught that train.

Curtain





Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5