Chapter V: Epilogue: Death and Life

SCENE: _Interior of the forest. Pitch-black night.
The_ TRAMP _sleeping in the foreground_.

_Tramp._ (_Speaking in his sleep_) Chuck it, General! (_Wakes_) Been nappin’, ’ave I? Crumbs, I feel cold. I’m sick—shiverin’ all over.... Where am I? Can’t see me ’ands, it’s so bloomin’ dark.... ’Oo’s that speakin’?... (_Shouting_) ’Ullo! ’oo’s talkin’?... Nothin’—no one anywhere. Gawd! I’m skeered. Where’s the sky got to? There ain’t no sky! Can’t be dead, can I? Feel sick enough. For ’eaven’s sake, a bit of light—jest a glimmer!

_A Voice._ Wait, wait. The light is coming.

_Tramp._ I can ’ear voices—everywhere, voices! ’Ark!

_Voice of Ant-Soldier._ I’m wounded.... I’m thirsty.

_Voice of Ant-Commander._ Army of Occupation, advance!

_Voice of Mr. Beetle._ My pile! Where’s my little pile?

_Voice of a Butterfly._ Iris! Iris!

_Tramp._ Give us a bit of light! I’m skeered!

_Voice of Cricket._ Another cricket lived here a long time ago. Careful, mumsy, careful!

_Voice of Ichneumon Fly._ Aha! Got them!

_Voice of Ant-Soldier._ Water, water!

_Voice of Ant-Commander._ And see that you take no prisoners.

_Voice of a Butterfly._ Iris! Iris!

_Voice of Mr. Beetle._ My pile! Where’s my lovely pile?

_Tramp._ What’s ’ere? A flint! If only I could strike a spark from it, jest one, one little spark o’ light!

[_He strikes it upon another stone. Sparks
burst forth. The forest is lit up._

Thank ’eaven, ’ere’s light!

_Voices._ Escape! escape!

_Chrysalis._ Who is that calling me? I come, I come!

[MUSIC.
My wings begin to sever:
My outer sheath is torn ...

_Voices of Moths._ (_Rapidly coming near and nearer_)

Into it, into it, into it! Wing your flight
Into the ecstasy, into the heart of the light!

_Chrysalis._ I shall have life for ever;
I shall at last be born!

[MOTHS _in a bevy fly into the midst
of the light. They whirl round._

_Moths._ Into it, into it, into it! Wing your flight
Into the ecstasy, into the heart of the light!

_Tramp._ What are _you_? Moths? What yer want? Is it life?

_First Moth._ (_Separating from the others_) Ah ...! (_Stands still_)
We are struck from the dark
And again we expire.
Each is a spark
Of an infinite fire....
[_She falls dead._

_Chorus._ And to flash from the forge for a moment,
and perish, is all our desire.

_Tramp._ Why’s she dead? She didn’t want to die.

_Second Moth._ (_Separating, &c._) Ah ...! (_Stands still_)

We are drops on the crest
Of a fountain that leaps—
[_She falls dead._

_Third Moth._ (_Separating_)
We dance without rest
And return to the deeps,—

_Chorus._ For life is eternal, and rises from death
where you think that it sleeps.

_Third Moth._ Life is eternal. It cannot fail.
All hail to life—
[_Falls dead._

_Moths._ All hail, all hail!

_Tramp._ Life and death—seems they’re both good if we know how to treat ’em. I’m a battered old moth, I am, but I’ll dance with yer! All hail to life!

_Moths._ All hail, all hail!

[MOTH _after_ MOTH _falls dead_.

_Tramp._ Butterflies, beetles, moths, and men—why can’t we all live ’appy together? The world’s big enough, and life could be ’appy for everythink—if we ’ad a bit o’ sense.

_Moths._ All hail, all hail!

_Chrysalis._ (_Shrieking_) Out of my way! Behold!

[_She rends her husk and leaps forth as a_ MOTH.

_Tramp._ What? You, Chrysalis? Reely born?

_Chrysalis-Moth._ (_Whirling_) Ah! (_Stands still_)
O light! O love! O! ecstasy
Of being! Life has entered _me_!

_A Few Last Moths._ Eternal life—all hail to thee!

[_They fall dead._

_Chrysalis-Moth._
Hearken, O heaven! O earth, give ear!
I will proclaim a mystery here.
I will solve all things. I will tell
The whole world’s meaning. Hearken well....
[_She falls dead._

_Tramp._ (_Kneeling by the dead_ CHRYSALIS) Dead. She’s dead too. Pore Chrysalis—and you ’ad sich ’opes. What was yer going to say? I wonder! They don’t seem skeered o’ death, these little mites don’t. Life’s a rapture to them, and death’s a rapture. It’s queer. Pore little mites—all done for....’Ere—what’s this? My turn, is it? Get off my chest, damn yer! I won’t die. ’Aven’t I jest learned ’ow to live and let live? Gawd, I feel sick. I can’t be dyin’? It can’t ’ave come to me?... Chuck it—yer stranglin’ me. I know ’oo it is—you’re Death. Yer want to count me out—_I_ know. Take that!

_Enter_ TWO SNAILS.

_First Snail._ Thtop—Thome one’s makin’ a noith.

_Second Snail._ Come back, come back.

_Tramp._ That’s for you, rattlebones! You felt that, eh? ’Ere, get yer knee off my chest—I only want to live. I won’t give yer my life, yer old skull and crossbones yer.—Ow! It’s ’is foot on my head.

[_Falls._

_First Snail._ I thay, thnail.

_Second Snail._ What?

_First Snail._ ’E’th thtruggling with death.

_Second Snail._ We’ll have a look, eh?

_Tramp._ Let me live—what will it matter to you? Only this once—till to-morrow. Let me breathe—stop, don’t strangle me—I don’t want to die—I ’aven’t enjoyed life yet—not ’alf—

[_Falls._

_First Snail._ What fun, eh?

_Second Snail._ I thay, thnail!

_First Snail._ What?

_Second Snail._ He’th done for.

_Tramp._ You strangle a man when ’e’s down, do you, coward? Stop, let me tell you—all I want’s another moment—let me live—go away—I’ve more to tell you—I’ve learned how to live.

_First Snail._ Well, it’th all up with him.

_Second Snail._ Oh dear, oh dear! What a mithfortune! How we shall mith him, my dear.

_First Snail._ What are you talkin’ about? It’s nothing to do with uth.

_Second Snail._ That’s what people thay when thomebody dies.

_First Snail._ Oh yeth. Well, we won’t futh about it.

_Second Snail._ No! No! Ith the way of the world.

_Dawn_—BIRDS _awaken_.

_Enter_ WOODCUTTER.

_Woodcutter._ (_Singing_)
‘As I went down to Shrewsbury Town
I came by luck....’

(_He sees the_ TRAMP’S _corpse_) Hallo—what’s this? Boozed, is he? Here—wake up, mate. My word! he’s dead. Poor old chap.... Well, anyway, he’ll have no more trouble.

_Enter a_ WOMAN, _carrying a new-born baby_.

_Woman._ Morning, Peter Wood. Why, whatever’s the matter?
[_Church bells._

_Woodcutter._ He’s dead.

_Woman._ Dead? Who is it?

_Woodcutter._ Only a tramp by the look of him.

_Woman._ It gives me a turn. It’s bad luck, you know. Here am I taking my sister’s baby to be baptized, and—ugh!

_Woodcutter._ One’s born and another dies. No great matter, missus.

_Woman._ It means bad luck.

_Woodcutter._ What’s death? There’s always people enough. (_Chucking the baby under the chin_) Gi-gi-gi-gigg, baby! Wait till you’re grown up.

_Woman._ I hope he’ll be better off than we are, that’s all. These taxes!

_Woodcutter._ Plenty of work—that’s what he’ll need.

[_Voices of_ SCHOOL CHILDREN _approaching_.

_Woman._ Here come the girls on their way to school. Quick, Peter Wood—cover up that! They mustn’t see it, poor dears.

_Enter some_ SCHOOL CHILDREN. _They file across the stage singing_:

‘As I went down to Shrewsbury Town,
I came by luck on a silver crown:
And what shall I buy with that, said I,
What shall I buy in Shrewsbury Town?

As I went down to Shrewsbury Town
I saw my love in a dimity gown:
And all so gay I gave it away,
I gave it away—my silver crown.’

[_During the song one little girl gives a flower to the baby.
This, after the singers have left the stage, the_ WOMAN
_takes and lays on the body of the_ TRAMP.

CURTAIN.

The Quest Society.

SPRING SESSION, 1923.

OPEN MEETINGS.

Thursday Evenings at 8.30.

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=April 26.= ‘Minos not Tut-ankh-amen.’
VACHER BURCH, M.A.

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REYNOLD A. NICHOLSON, M.A., Litt.D., LL.D.

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Mrs. RHYS DAVIDS, M.A., Litt.D.

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G. R. S. MEAD, Editor of ‘The Quest.’

=June 21.= ‘The Subconscious Background of the Vale
Owen Script on the Spirit-world.’
D. F. DE L’HOSTE RANKING, M.A., LL.D., F.R.S.L.

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