Chapter III: Number Seven

(_Based on an old legend_)

_A Room in the East. Some time ago. A Man and a Woman having supper._

_She._ You eat heartily, my pomegranate.

_He._ Yes, I am hungry. And I am happy, for is it not our bridal feast?

_She._ That reminds me. There is something I want to tell you. As a matter of fact I meant to tell you before, but I have been so busy buying clothes.

_He._ Oh, what is that? Pass the salt.

_She_ (_passing_). The fact is, you are not my first husband; at least, not exactly.

_He._ How do you mean?

_She._ As a matter of fact you are the--the first but five.

_He_ (_working it out_). I see. I take it the others are away from home.

_She_ (_gently_). No. They died. Have some more salad?

_He._ Thank you. I’m sorry. At least, you know what I mean.

_She._ The odd thing was that they all died at the same time--in a way.

_He._ Oh! Was there an epidemic, or what?

_She._ Oh, no. What I mean is they each died the night we were married.

_He._ That _is_ curious. Why did they die?

_She._ Nobody knows. They just died. It’s given me a great deal of bother.

_He._ But I suppose you’ve been able to use the same trousseau in each case.

_She._ But nay; for I have invariably embroidered every garment in gold and silver with the name and image of my love.

_He._ By Jove, what a bore! I say, have you embroidered any garments with _my_ name and image? I’d like to see them.

_She_ (_sadly_). Nay, my beloved. This time I have embroidered nothing. It seems such a waste.

_He._ Yes, yes, of course. All the same----You know, my olive branch, I can’t help wishing you’d told me about this before we were wed.

_She._ I am sorry, my love. I can’t think how it slipped my memory. But there was so much shopping to be done, and what with one thing and another----_Do_ have some more salad.

_He._ Thanks; its delicious. By the way, who made it?

_She._ With her own fair hands your lily contrived it.

_He._ Oh! Perhaps, after all, I won’t have any more. I don’t feel so hungry as I thought I did.

_She._ The last but two used to love my salads. All his married life----

_He_ (_musing_). By the way, when you say “night,” what time of night do you mean? When did the last but two, for instance----

_She._ I should have said “evening” really; it was careless of me. Usually about nine----

_He_ (_looking at hour-glass_). Curious--I don’t feel nearly so well. I wonder if----

[_The curtains falls to denote the passage of a few months. When it rises two people are discovered at supper--a Woman (the same one) and a Man (a different one)._

_She._ You eat heartily, my pomegranate.

_He._ Who would not eat heartily on the day of his espousal to such a maid as _thee_.

_She._ That reminds me. I knew there was something I wanted to tell you, but the wedding put it quite out of my head.

_He._ Truly, what shouldst thou think of at thy espousal but thy spouse?

_She._ Do you minding saying “_you_”? None of the others have said “_thou_.”

_He._ As you will, beloved. But of what “others” speakest thou?

_She._ Well, that’s really the point. The fact is, my tangerine, you are not my first spouse--at least, not quite.

_He._ How so? What delicious salad!

_She._ Have some more. No, you are--let me see--one, two, three, four--yes, you are the first but six. It’s rather a curious story; I wonder if it will bore you?

_He._ What tale from thy sweet lips could tedious be?

_She._ I wish you’d get out of that “_thy_” habit; it’s so irritating. Well, the fact is that all your predecessors died on the evening of our wedding--I mean weddings--and nobody quite knows why.

_He._ Truly a strange tale. May I have just _one_ more go at the salad?

_She._ Of course. I’m so glad you like it. Curiously enough, the one before you was very fond of it too; in fact I’ve often wondered----Well, there it is. Now I do hope that nothing is going to happen to you, my dear, because I should so hate to think that you had been put to any inconvenience on my account. Besides, it upsets the servants.

_He._ Have no fear, beloved. For I too have a secret. I _know_ thy--your--tragic history; a witch has revealed it unto me.

_She._ You _know_? Well, I do think you might have told me. I meant it to be a surprise.

_He._ Further, she has given me a magic charm to protect us both.

_She._ I say, what’s that mess in the corner? There--on the plate.

_He._ That is the heart and liver of a fish, my apple.

_She._ I hope you haven’t brought a cat into the house; father can’t bear them.

_He._ Nay, my love, that is the charm.

_She._ It looks a very large one. What fish is it?

_He._ It is the heart and liver of a sturgeon.

_She._ I suppose it couldn’t have been done with an anchovy?

_He._ Nay, nay. For the witch enjoined me; first I must burn it----

_She._ Yes, I think you’d better.

_He._ See? (_Burns._) The ashes thereof will drive away the evil spirit that molests you.

_She_ (_recoiling_). And I don’t wonder.

[_The Curtain falls, and rises again the next morning. The room is full of smoke._

_He_ (_shaving_). Who is that man digging in the garden?

_She._ Oh, that’s father. He’s digging a grave for you. It’s become a sort of habit with him.

_He._ Wilt thou not tell him it is not required?

_She_ (_through the window_). Father, we shan’t want it this time. Sorry.

_He._ I thank thee.

_She_ (_irritable_). Oh, do stop saying “_thee_.” And will you please take these horrible ashes and throw them away _at once_? Really, I can hardly breathe.

_He._ Nay, my love. They are our charm against danger. Art not thou--aren’t you, I mean--grateful?

_She._ Yes, of course. But they’ve done the trick by now. We can’t spend our whole married life in this atmosphere.

_He._ But indeed we must. The witch enjoined me that, unless they were preserved, I should perish, even as those before me.

_She._ Well, I’m extremely sorry, but I really can’t stand this. (_Through the window._) Father, you might bury this, will you? (_throws down the ashes_). Thank you. Oh, and don’t fill up the hole yet. We may want it after all.

CURTAIN

Transcriber's Notes:

Italics are shown thus: _sloping_.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.

Perceived typographical errors have been changed.