Chapter VI: Act III: (Two years later.) Parlor in GAYLIE GIFFORD'S house (3)

_Serena._ 'Tis a crafty plot,
And full of wickedness. I like it not.
Freedom's a name too sacred to infold
A hungering appetite for greed and gold.
What conquest gains is ne'er enriched by toil;
Ensanguined earth is but a sterile soil.
Rubina's counsel, and her bold device,
Would purchase glory at a bloody price.

_Rubina._ Serena, pause! thou hast no right to frown,
With thy cold-hearted words, my counsel down.
No crafty plot I weave to bring disgrace,
But lofty plans to glorify the race.
Let War once set his standard in the field,
With strength and valor blazoned on his shield,
The roar of cannon, and the clash of steel,
Shall glad the nation with triumphant peal,
And strong and mighty conquerers enroll
Heroic deeds on her historic scroll.

_Serena._ While o'er the land the blood of her dear sons—
Conquest's sad recompense—in horror runs.
Forbear, Rubina! Gracious mistress, might
Should ever wield its strong arm for the right.
Let not Rubina's counsel carry weight,
Lest angry discord rend your lofty state.

_Rubina._ Insult again—

_Gloria._ Nay, nay, Rubina. Pause:
Thou hast had ample time to urge thy cause.
With patience curb a while thy fiery mood;
We'll ponder well thy influence for good.
Speak thou, Serena. Canst thou find release
For our perplexity in ways of peace?

_Serena._ Ay, peace, fair mistress, is the fount of health,
Whence flow the streams of happiness and wealth
That bless a nation. In its waters fair,
Drowned are the pangs of life-corroding care;
Cheered and refreshed is duty's faithful heart,
In labor's trials strong to take its part.
O happy Gloria! o'er this blest domain,
With Peace thy minister, forever reign.
Its power can bless thy state with bright renown,
And deck with radiant gems thy royal crown.
Let not bold War thy quiet glades invade,
To ruthless revel in thy marts of trade,
Affront thy people with its thundering peal,
And grind the harvests 'neath its iron heel.
For Peace is mighty to achieve all ends,
And highest good with grandest triumph blends.

_Rubina._ Ignoble Toil, Serena, grovels low,
And on the race no glory can bestow.

_Serena._ Toil is the power that tears the rock away,
And brings rare jewels to the light of day.

_Rubina._ 'Tis base!

_Serena._ 'Tis noble!

_Gloria._ Silence, I entreat!
Counsel is vain when angry passions meet.
In patience we have heard: in patience wait,
Till we have pondered on this strange debate,
And made our choice. Anon we'll make it known.
Await our pleasure. We would be alone.

(_Repeat chorus, "Blest is the land," &c., and
march off_ R., RUBINA _and_ ATTENDANTS; L., SERENA _and_
ATTENDANTS. GLORIA _sits on bank_.)

_Gloria._ O doubting heart! the battle to repeat,
Within thy depths Content and Conquest meet.
Upon the field where Conscience sits enthroned,
One must be victor crowned, and one disowned.
When Wisdom all its arguments hath plied,
Thou, judge impartial, must the case decide.
Upon thy fiat hangs a nation's fate:
Give me the power to make my people great.

_Song; air, "Oh, come ye into the summer woods:"_
QUEEN MAB _and_ DREAM-SPIRITS.

Oh, sink you into soft slumber's arms!
There dwelleth no annoy;
There freely rove the Dreamland sprites,
And sweet rest is full of joy.

_Gloria_ (_slowly sinks to rest, speaking softly,
with closed eyes_).

Soft, drowsy spirits o'er my senses creep,
And bear me captive to the realm of sleep.

_Song continued._

We'll spread for you, in phantom light,
That plainly you may know,
The woes of dreadful warfare,
The joys from peace that flow.
Oh! sink you, &c.

_QUEEN MAB (comes front of bank, and kneels;
SOMNA and OBLIVIA come down R.; DROWSA and SOOTHA, L.)._

Ay, sink to sleep, fair goddess. Healthy rest
From weighty care shall ease thy troubled breast;
Prophetic visions o'er thy senses roll,
To guide to just result thy struggling soul.
Rubina comes with treason in her tread,
To crafty acts by false ambition led.

(_Enter_ RUBINA, R. _She passes behind bank, and
stands_ C., _looking down at_ GLORIA. _Then enter_ R., CRUELTY
_and_ HATRED, _who pass to_ L.; DISCORD _and_ REVENGE, _who stand_
R.)

RUBINA.
GLORIA, _on bank_.
QUEEN MAB, _kneeling_.
R. DISCORD. HATRED. L.
SOMNA. SOOTHA.
REVENGE. CRUELTY.
OBLIVIA. DROWSA.

_Rubina._ In fetters bound all powerless she lies,
The mighty goddess who all earth defies,
The slave of sleep. Relinquished the command
Which sways the fortune of her chosen land.
The gleaming crown on her majestic brow
But serves as symbol of her bondage now.
Should I but snatch it from her pillowed head,
Rubina rules, and Freedom's host is led
Instant to conquest. 'Tis a glorious aim.
Speak, you who wait: have I your free acclaim?

_Discord._ Quick! snatch the crown, and I will hie away
To boldly with the meaner passions play;
Quicken your hosts with feverish desire,
With love of anarchy their bosoms fire.
Pause not, but on the instant power assume!
Discord will go before, and cry, "Make room!"

_Cruelty._ Ay, wear the crown. Let war defiant move;
Let me 'mid soft and tender passions rove,
Crushing and slaying, turning all to steel,
Forged in the flame of fierce and bitter zeal.
Allegiance to thee, Cruelty will give;
Under thy triumphs will she grandly live.

_Hatred._ Usurp the regal state, and I am free
War's stanch and sturdy champion to be.
Warm blood I quicken with a thirsty hate,
That nought but anarchy can satiate.
Unto thy crown I full allegiance lend;
Hatred by thee will ever stand as friend.

_Revenge._ Success to treason! At thy feet I lay
My fond allegiance. Bid me quick array
The fiercest passions. I will straightway prove
My bold endeavor worthy of thy love.
War is my idol; at its luring call
Revenge is quick, and sure to conquer all.

_Rubina._ O glorious spirits! what you free accord,
This grateful heart shall bless with rich reward.
Success is certain: I'll no longer pause,
But raise aloft the standard of our cause.

(_Takes crown from_ GLORIA'S _head_.)

The crown is mine. Rise, War, in triumph now;
Gloria's rare diadem is on my brow!

TABLEAU. _The crowning of War._

HATRED. RUBINA. DISCORD.
GLORIA, _on bank_.
R. SOMNA. QUEEN MAB. SOOTHA. L.
REVENGE. CRUELTY.
OBLIVIA. DROWSA.

_A chord._ RUBINA _places crown on her head;
stands with her hands raised to the crown_. GLORIA _starts up,
resting on one hand, her other hand raised to her brow, terror in
her eyes_. QUEEN MAB _on her knees in front of bank, her hands
clasped, resting in her lap, head thrown back_. SOMNA, R., _and_
SOOTHA, L., _in line with_ QUEEN MAB, _crouch each with one hand on
her shoulder, the other outstretched, as though warding off
danger_. HATRED _and_ DISCORD _run_ R. _and_ L. _of_ RUBINA; _each
has hand on her waist, the other raised in triumph_. DROWSA _falls
at the feet of_ CRUELTY, L., _her back to audience, her hands
raised and clasped_. CRUELTY _looks down at her with right hand
raised and clenched, as though about to strike_. OBLIVIA _falls at
the feet of_ REVENGE, R., _with outstretched arms, facing
audience_; REVENGE _seizes her hands, bends her back, and looks
into her face. Expressions of terror on the faces of_ DREAM-SPIRITS
_and_ GLORIA; _triumph in those of_ RUBINA _and her_ ATTENDANTS.
_Soft music until the attention of the audience is fastened on the
picture, then_,—

_Chorus; air, "Soldier's Chorus."_

Glory and fame for the free and bold!
War's red banner let heroes unfold,
Boldly advancing to win renown,
Ay, eager to fight, and ready to guard Rubina's crown.

_Semi-chorus._

Who lack courage to dare in the front of fight,
With conquest before, and the foe in sight?

_Semi-chorus._

Who would falter or turn when glory and fame
Their bright laurels press, and with victory bless,
In War's mighty name?

_Chorus._

Glory and fame, &c.

_Rubina._ Up and away! the tocsin sounds afar;
The land of freedom is the realm of war.

(_Repeat chorus, "Glory and Fame," &c., and exit_
R., RUBINA, _followed by_ REVENGE, HATRED, DISCORD, _and_ CRUELTY.
_As the music ceases_, QUEEN MAB _and the_ DREAM-SPIRITS _resume
their places at back of bank_.)

_Gloria._ Rubina false, and I, by sleep possessed,
Powerless to rise my rightful crown to wrest!

_Queen Mab._ Now, fair Serena, let thy loyal heart,
The treasures of its secret depths impart.
Sisters, the spell prolong with slumber's chain;
Bind the fair goddess to her dreams again.

_Song_: QUEEN MAB _and_ DREAM-SPIRITS; _air, "The
Image of the Rose."_

Come, Sleep, on drowsy pinions flying,
Fair Gloria lull to sweet repose.
The land of dreams around her lying,
To charm her senses, brightly glows.
There peaceful visions, soft, entrancing,
In changeful measures sport and play.
Sleep, by thy magic power advancing,
Within thy arms bear her away.
Magical sleep, bear her, bear her, oh, bear her away!

_As the song proceeds, the_ DREAM-SPIRITS _and_
QUEEN MAB _slowly exeunt_, R. SERENA, _and_ ATTENDANTS, MUSIC,
_with a lyre_; INDUSTRY, _with a distaff_; PLENTY, _with a horn of
plenty; and_ ART, _with a palette and brushes,—appear_, L., _when
the music ceases_. SERENA _stands_ C., _looking down at_ GLORIA;
_her_ ATTENDANTS L. _The implements carried by the_ ATTENDANTS
_should be made of flowers, if possible_.

_Bank._
SERENA.
R. L. ATTENDANTS.

_Serena._ Genius of Freedom, in thy visions bless
Serena's faithful heart with warm caress.
Let not vain Conquest flatter and deceive:
Bid restful Peace at once thy doubts relieve.
Bending in homage to thy royal sway,
Strong to achieve, and zealous to obey,
She sues for favor: bid her journey wide,
Prosperity to sow on every side.
She pleads in love: receive her earnest prayer,
And of thy love bestow a generous share.

_Industry._ Hear her, great goddess: ready to inthrall
True-hearted worth, I wait her cheery call.
With brain and muscle ceaselessly I play,
Opening new harvests to the light of day.
Contentment, life's warm, sweet, and better part,
Industry thrones in Labor's thrifty heart.

_Plenty._ List to her prayer, O Gloria! All elate
To fill the treasure-house of wealth I wait;
At her command, the harvest shall outpour,
To deck thy chosen land from shore to shore.
Warmed in the love-light of her peaceful eyes,
Plenty, fruit-freighted, shall luxurious rise.

_Art._ Grant her fond wish, fair goddess, and I twine
Into thy reign, with rare and grand design,
All that pen, brush, and chisel can achieve,
Thy weighty cares to lighten and relieve.
Gigantic Genius bends a willing knee,
When Art, by Peace, to triumph is set free.

_Music._ Hear her, fair goddess, and I joyous soar,
Pæans of thankfulness and praise to pour
In bounteous song. Thy proud and happy reign
Shall be the burden of my glad refrain.
Religion's anthems swell with large increase
When Music rises at the call of Peace.

_Serena._ Dost hear, my mistress? All the Graces meet
In my behalf, thy favor to entreat.
Grant me thy love, and beautiful and grand
Shall be the labors of this gifted band.

(_Enter_ RUBINA, R., _and her_ ATTENDANTS.)

_Rubina._ Thou suest for love, Serena, all too late:
Gloria has parted with her high estate.
I sued for power, defied the royal frown,
Played with bold hand, and won the regal crown.

_Serena._ The crown upon thy head! Oh, bitter woe
O'er a fair land relentlessly shall flow!
Must I relinquish all my dreams of bliss?
Do I deserve such recompense as this?

_Rubina._ Check thy bold speech, Serena. Get thee hence!
Thy piteous pleading is a rash offence
Against our state.

_Serena._ Rash Rubina, hold!
Peace by thy sway can never be controlled.
Thou hast usurped the guidance of a race
Who shrink in terror from thy brazen face.
Thou hast with treachery obtained a crown;
Serena quails not at a wicked frown.
Traitress—

_Rubina._ Defied by thee! At once away!
Rubina rules, and can relentless slay.
Thy power is crushed: Serena now must cease
The fickle glow of enervating peace.
With all the sprites that compass thee about,
From Freedom's realms I boldly drive thee out.
War's mighty reign begins—

(GLORIA _rises quickly, steps between, and snatches the
crown from_ RUBINA'S _head_.)

_Gloria._ False one, 'tis o'er!
Flaunt thy fierce mien in our domain no more.
Thy rude assaults of recklessness and pride,
Fame, glory, and renown, in scorn deride.
Thou hast no charms the noble to inthrall;
No knightly hearts obey thy martial call
When Conquest beckons. Here, within the realm,
Be thou content to treason overwhelm
With mighty force. Fate binds thee to our side;
Henceforth thou watchful guard, and we will guide.

(_Waves her hand_; RUBINA _and her_ ATTENDANTS
_retire to back of stage_, L.; GLORIA _passes behind bank, and
stands_.)

By vision hath our sleep been girt about,
And happy wake we, free from anxious doubt.
Our choice 'twixt War and Peace we here reveal,
And stamp the fiat with our royal seal.
Approach, Serena! Love thou dost desire.

(SERENA _stands near_ C.)

Thou hast all charms affection to inspire,—
Heart warm with honesty and generous zeal;
Brain strong to contrive, and mighty to reveal;
Soul full of teeming virtues. All outflow,
Blessings of peace and love to free bestow.
Henceforth to guide us by thy loving arts,
We crown thee sovereign in our heart of hearts.

_TABLEAU. The crowning of Peace._

DREAM-SPIRITS. ATTENDANTS.
QUEEN MAB. RUBINA.
GLORIA.
_Bank._
INDUSTRY. SERENA. ART.
R. PLENTY. MUSIC, L.

SERENA _sits on bank_, C., _facing audience,
hands folded across her breast_. GLORIA _stands behind her, placing
the crown upon her head_; INDUSTRY R. _of_ SERENA, _seated on bank,
facing_ R., _distaff in her left hand resting against shoulder_;
ART _in the same position_ L. _of_ SERENA, _facing_ L., _with
palette in her left hand_; MUSIC _kneeling in front of_ ART,
_facing audience, playing upon lyre_; PLENTY _kneeling on right
knee, front of_ INDUSTRY, _outpouring her horn of plenty_; RUBINA
L., _back, with her_ ATTENDANTS _grouped behind her_. QUEEN MAB
_enters_ R., _with her_ DREAM-SPIRITS, _and group_ R., _back.
Appropriate music: then chorus; air, Eichberg's "National Hymn."_

On thee, O Freedom, grand and great!
In confidence we lean,
Our land to bless, with fond caress
Of happiness serene.
To hail thy crowning, gentle Peace,
Let music joyous soar;
While harvests wave, and blessings lave
Thy realm from shore to shore.

_Repeat._ _Curtain._

NOTE.—All the tunes used in this allegory, with
the single
exception of Eichberg's "National Hymn" (which is published
in sheet-form), are from "The Grammar School Chorus," which
furnished the tunes for "The Revolt of the Bees," "The War
of the Roses," and "Lightheart's Pilgrimage," by the same
author. Published by O. Ditson & Co., and sold by Lee &
Shepard, Boston. Price $1.00.

THE MERRY CHRISTMAS
OF THE
OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A SHOE.

CHARACTERS.

THE OLD WOMAN who lived in a Shoe.
SANTA CLAUS, disguised as a Beggar.
Ten or twelve CHILDREN, Boys and Girls of various ages.

SCENE.—_The exterior of "Copper Toe Shoe House,"
which is set at back of platform._

_Chorus (invisible); air, "Revolutionary Tea"_ (p. 194,
"Golden Wreath").

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe;
Of children she had a score:
So many had she, to know what to do
Was a question which puzzled her sore.

(_Head of_ CHILD _appears at 1_.)

To some she gave broth without any bread;
But never contented were they,
Till she whipped them all soundly, and put them to bed,

And then very happy were they,
And then very happy were they.

(_Head appears at 2._)

"Now, mother, dear mother," the young ones would cry,
As they dropped off with a nod,
"To train up a child in the way to go,
O mother, dear, ne'er spare the rod.

(CHILD'S _head appears at 3_.)

For broth without bread is a watery waste;
And never contented are we,
Till with your good stick it is thickened to taste;

(_Three heads appear at 4._)

And then, oh, how happy are we!
And then, oh, how happy are we!"

_Enter_ OLD WOMAN, R. _Her costume, bodice, quilted petticoat,
sugar-loaf hat, high-heeled shoes, and cane._

_O. W._ Aha! (_Heads disappear quick._)
Good gracious! can't I leave the house a minute,
But what a head's at every window in it?
Don't let me see the tip of a single nose;
For, if you do, we'll surely come to blows.
Poor dears! they want the air. Well, that is cheap
And strengthening; for they live on air and sleep.
Food is so high, and work is so unstiddy,
Life's really wearing on this poor old widdy.

1. Split in the Heel.
2. Patch on the best Corn.
3. Copper Toe.
4. Lookout, or Observatory at top of House.

(_Heads appear, one after the other, as before._)

Ah me! here's good old Christmas come again.
How can I join in the triumphant strain
Which moves all hearts? I am so old and poor,
With none to aid me from their generous store.

CHILD _at 1_. Mother, I want a drum.

CHILD _at 2_. I want a doll!

CHILD _at 3_. Gimme a sword!

_Three_ CHILDREN _at 4_. Got presents for us all?

_O. W._ Aha! (_Heads disappear quick._)
Poor dears! if with the will I had the power,
The choicest Christmas gifts should on them shower.

_Song_: OLD WOMAN; _air, "Comin' through the Rye."_

If a widdy's with her biddies,
Living in a shoe,
If a widdy's work unstiddies,
What'll widdy do?

(_Heads appear as before._)

Every mother loves her biddies;
Many a one have I;
But where get gifts to fill their fists,
When I've no gold to buy?

Aha! (_Heads disappear quick._)

There is a sprite oft comes this night,
Whom children love full well;
But what's his name, and where's his hame,
He does not always tell.

(_Heads appear as before._)

Lads and lassies know good Santa,
With presents not a few;
Would he were here, my chicks to cheer,
Living in a shoe!

Aha! (_Heads disappear._)
Well, I'll get in, and make the children warm.
Tucked in their beds, they're always safe from harm.
And in their dreams, perhaps, such gifts will rise
As wakeful, wretched poverty denies.

(_Disappears behind shoe._)

_Enter cautiously_, R., SANTA CLAUS; _his fabled
dress is hidden by a long domino, or "waterproof;" he has, swung
about his neck, a tin kitchen, on which he grinds an imaginary
accompaniment to his song_.

_Santa._ "You'd scarce expect one of my age"—
For gray hair is the symbol of the sage—
To play at "hide-and-seek," to your surprise.
Here's honest Santa Claus, in rough disguise.
But 'tis all right, as I will quick explain,
For I've a mystic project "on the brain."
I've dropped down chimneys all this blessed night,
Where warmth and comfort join to give delight;
I've filled the stockings of the merry elves,
Who, to fond parents, are rich gifts themselves;
And now I've come, resolved to make a show
In that old mansion with the copper toe,
Where dwells a dame, with children great and small,
Enough to stock a school, or crowd a hall.
If they are worthy of our kind regard,
Christmas shall bring to them a rich reward.
So I have donned for once a meaner dress,
To personate a beggar in distress.
If to my wants they lend a listening ear,
The rough old shoe shall glow with Christmas cheer:
If they are rude, and turn me from the door,
Presto! I vanish, and return no more.

_Song_: SANTA CLAUS; _air_, "_Them blessed Roomatics._"

My name's Johnny Schmoker, and I am no joker;
I don't in my pockets no greenbacks perceive.
For, what with high dressing in fashions distressing,
I can't with a morsel my hunger relieve.
My stomach so tender, that aches there engender;
The whole blessed day I am crying out, "Oh!"
Drat these grand fashions! they wakens my passions,
A-nippin' and gnawin' my poor stomach so!

(_Heads appear as before._)

I've had the lumbager, dyspepsy, and ager,
With tight-fitting veskits and pantaloons too;
Highsterics and swimins, delirious trimins,
St. Vestris's dance, and the tick dolly-oo.
But not the whole gettin', one's body tight fits in,
Is noffin' to this, which is drefful. Oh, oh!
Drat these grand fashions! they wakens my passions,
A-nippin' and gnawin' my poor stomach so!

(_Heads disappear._)

Now, there's a touching song to move the heart,
Hark! what's that? I thought I heard them start.

_Song_: CHILDREN, _outside; air, "Oh, dear, what can
the matter be?"_

Oh, dear, what can the matter be?
Dear, dear, what can the matter be?
Oh, dear, what can the matter be?
Somebody's groaning out there!
A hungry old beggar has come here to tease us,
By grinding an organ he knows will not please us.
He hopes it may bring him a handful of pennies,
To buy him a loaf of brown bread.

_Enter_ OLD WOMAN, _with_ CHILDREN, L., _from
behind shoe. The largest hangs on to her skirts, the next in size
to the largest, until they dwindle to the smallest; repeat song as
they enter slowly, turn to_ R., _march across stage; turn to_ L.,
_march across again; turn to_ R., _and form across stage._

_O. W._ Now go away, old man. 'Tis very queer
That you should seek to waste your sweetness here;
For we've no money, not a cent, to pay
For music; so you'd better up and move away.

_Santa._ Alas, alas! and can you be unkind
To one who's been by Fortune left behind;
Who has no friend, no money, and no clo'es;
The hunted victim of unnumbered woes?
Good dame, I ask not money: if you please,
A simple crust my hunger to appease.

_O. W._ Good gracious! Starving! Children, do you hear?
The old man's hungry: quickly disappear!

(CHILDREN _scamper behind shoe_.)

_Santa._ She drives them in. To me 'tis very clear
Old Santa fails to find a welcome here.

_O. W._ We're very poor, have fasted many a day,
Yet from our door ne'er drove the poor away.

_Song; air, "Balm of Gilead," by the_ CHILDREN,
_who march in as before, carrying sticks, on which are stuck
apples, potatoes, crusts of bread, turnip, carrot, "beat," &c. They
move around the stage, singing as they pass_ SANTA; _the last time,
pitch their potatoes, &c., into his tin kitchen. He stands_ L. _of
stage_; OLD WOMAN, R.

Oh, you sha'n't be hungry now,
Oh, you sha'n't be hungry now,
Oh, you sha'n't be hungry now,
Down at Copper Toe Shoe.
Cold potato—tato,
Cold potato—tato,
Cold pota—to,
Down at Copper Toe Shoe.

(_No interlude._)

Oh, you sha'n't be hungry now,
Oh, you sha'n't be hungry now,
Oh, you sha'n't be hungry now,
Down at Copper Toe Shoe.
Crusts for breakfast—breakfast,
Crusts for breakfast—breakfast,
Crusts for break—fast,
Down at Copper Toe Shoe.

Oh, you sha'n't be hungry now,
Oh, you sha'n't be hungry now,
Oh, you sha'n't be hungry now,
Down at Copper Toe Shoe.
Broth for supper—supper,
Broth for supper—supper,
Broth for sup—per,
Down at Copper Toe Shoe.

Oh, you sha'n't, &c.

_Santa._ Well, well, I'm puzzled! Here's a grand surprise.
Bless me, the tears are dropping from my eyes!
Thank you, my children. This is quite bewitchin';
With eatables you've nearly filled my kitchen.
Ah, little ones! you've learned the better part.
They are the poor who lack the kindly heart;
And they the rich, the noble, and the high,
Who never willing pass the sufferer by.
Now comes my triumph. Children, speak up bright:
What day is this?

_All._ Christmas.

_Little Girl._ No; 'tis Christmas night!

_Santa._ That's true. Now tell me who, against the laws,
Drops down the chimneys?

_All._ Why, old Santa Claus!

_Santa._ Bless me! how bright and nice these children are!
Each eye doth sparkle like the evening star.
Now, then, suppose I were that ancient sprite,
What would you ask, to give you most delight?

_Child 1._ I'd have a sled.

_Child 2._ A doll.

_Child 3._ A kite for me.

_Child 4._ Something still better.

_Santa._ What?

_Child 4._ A Christmas tree!

_All Children._ Oh, my! Good gracious! Wouldn't that be grand?

_O. W._ Too grand, my chicks, for you to understand.
Why, such a tree within our old shoe spread,
Would from their fastenings tear out every thread;
Make every peg to start from out its socket,
And send the buckle flying like a rocket.

_Santa._ Good, good! there's fun beneath that wrinkled phiz.
At playing Santa Claus, let's make a biz.
Suppose me Santa Claus. I bless you all:
Then from my waistcoat let this oven fall,

(_Takes off kitchen._)

Throw off this mantle with a sudden jerk,

(_Throws off disguise, and appears as_ SANTA CLAUS.)

And in an instant set myself to work.

_Children._ 'Tis Santa Claus!

_Santa._ You're right. I am the man,
Yours to command. I'll serve you if I can;
For I have found, good dame, that honest worth
Can burrow in the lowliest spot on earth;
That sweet compassion's ne'er so poorly fed,
But what she finds an extra crust of bread.
Now, to reward your generous hearts, my chicks,
Into the earth these magic seeds I sticks;
These cabalistic words in Hebrew mutter,—
"Ene, mene, moni, suti, sutter;"
Presto! appear! and, glittering bright and free,
Beams on your sight the mystic Christmas tree.

(_Shoe divides, and disappears_ R. _and_ L. _Curtains at
back open, disclosing tree._)

_Song: "We'll gather round the Christmas Tree."_ SANTA CLAUS _and_
OLD WOMAN _distribute presents to the company. Curtain falls._

REAR VIEW OF COPPER TOE SHOE HOUSE.
]

NOTE.—This entertainment was prepared for a Sunday school's
Christmas Eve, and was arranged as follows: A stage, fourteen feet
square, was fitted with a "roll-up" curtain in front. Drapery was
hung at the sides and back; a Christmas tree, filled with presents,
was placed well back on the stage, and hidden by curtains arranged
to separate in the middle. In front of these was placed "Copper Toe
Shoe House." The rear view represents the frame made of wood, in two
pieces, to separate in the middle, of the following dimensions: ten
feet from toe to heel, five feet and one half from heel to top, four
feet and one half across top, heel about twenty inches long, eight
inches high. Cover front, in two separate sections, with black
cambric; for toe, copper tinsel paper; for sole and patch, brown
cambric; for buckle, silver tinsel paper; the patch fastened only at
bottom. A curtain, of same material or color as back stage, should
be hung in rear of shank, that children standing behind may not be
seen. A settee is placed behind it, on which the children in the
dwelling stand. 1, 2, and 3 lie upon the stage, and stick their
heads out when required. The characters can pass between the
curtains at back, to their places. When the tree is disclosed, all
the characters are in front, the settee is removed, the braces
unfastened, and, at a signal, two boys run off the shoe, and others
draw the curtains.

THE TOURNAMENT OF IDYLCOURT.
]

THE
TOURNAMENT OF IDYLCOURT.

AN ALLEGORY.

CHARACTERS.

JUSTICIA, Genius of Idylcourt.
PRIMEVA, Goddess of Nature.
MAJESTA, Guardian of the Mountains.
LOFTIE, AERIE, Mountain-Spirits.
FLORA, Guardian of the Fields.
POMONA, AGRIA, Field-Spirits.
OCEANA, Guardian of the Sea.
SHELLIE, WAVA, Sea-Spirits.
GENIA, Goddess of Art.
BLENDA, Genius of Painting.
CLASSICA, Genius of Sculpture.
HARMONIA, Genius of Music.
FAITH, HOPE, CHARITY, Classica's Models.
RELIGION, PRAYER, SORROW, JOY, Blenda's Picture.
POESIE, a wandering Maiden.

SCENE.—_Idylcourt. For a school exhibition, the chorus should be
seated right and left of an open space in the centre of the
platform, for the speakers. There should be a raised platform, six
or eight inches high, at the rear of this, with a dark background
for the more effective display of tableaux._

_Opening Chorus; air, "Shady Groves."_

Idylcourt, in fame and beauty
Glorious, bright thy realms appear;
Idylcourt, in love and duty
Willing hearts to thee draw near,
Wise Justicia's words to hear,
Wise Justicia's words to hear.
Court of genius, home of beauty,
Court of genius, home of beauty,
Court of genius, home of beauty,
Willing hearts to thee draw near;
Court of genius, home of beauty,
Court of genius, home of beauty,
Court of genius, home of beauty,
Willing hearts to thee draw near;
Court of genius, love and duty
Render homage to thy beauty,
Render to thy beauty,
Court of genius, love and duty.

_During the singing of the Chorus, enter_, R., PRIMEVA, MAJESTA,
FLORA, _and_ OCEANA. _Enter_ L., GENIA, CLASSICA, BLENDA,
HARMONIA. _At the conclusion, enter_ JUSTICIA R., _and stands_ C.
_Positions are indicated by the following diagram_:—

JUSTICIA.
_Chorus._ R. C. L. _Chorus._
MAJ. CLAS.
FLO. PRIM. GEN. HAR.
OCEA. BLEN.

_Justicia._ Welcome, fair sisters, to our regal court;
Your tuneful measures breathe of good report;
Twin guardian spirits of the fruitful earth,
To glad mankind creation gave you birth.
To you, Primeva, Nature bends in awe;
From you, fair Genia, Art receives its law.
Your free acclaim, upon this regal seat,
Justicia placed, all arguments to meet
With ear impartial; bade her voice decide,
That blissful harmony might here abide.
Your graceful homage, to our royal ear
Is but the foretaste of more welcome cheer.
You need our aid: unto our grateful heart
Your mission's import quickly now impart.

_Primeva._ Fair genius—

_Genia._ Sweet Justicia—

_Justicia._ Our decree,
By courtly rule, admits no double plea.
Be gracious, sisters.

_Genia._ I was wanting grace,
And humbly bend to give Primeva place.

_Primeva._ Justicia, yonder proud and haughty sprite
Usurps a name Primeva claims by right.
I would have justice!

_Justicia._ Art thou just to her?
Genia usurper! 'tis a cruel slur.
Brave, truthful speech bears no envenomed sting,
But, like good metal, has an honest ring.

_Primeva._ It was an honest truth, I dare repeat;
I may be rough in speech, but scorn deceit.

_Genia._ 'Tis true, Justicia, in a friendly way,
I chanced to cross Primeva's path to-day,
And held some converse with my sister sprite,
Whose bold, free speech is often my delight.
Our theme was conquest; and, in pleasant strife,
Each boasted of her power o'er human life;
And, half in jest, this boast I gayly hurled,—
"I, Genia, am the empress of the world."

_Primeva._ 'Tis false. It was no jest.

_Justicia._ Primeva, cease!
Your angry humor doth disturb our peace.

_Genia._ Primeva met my jest with frowning brow,
And angry words, so bitter in their flow,
My jesting humor fled. We argued long
To whom, by right, that title should belong;
Leaving all else but this great truth behind,—
She is the greatest who best serves mankind.

_Justicia._ Who won the battle?

_Genia._ That you must decide.
By your impartial fiat we abide.

_Primeva._ On this we are agreed. Justicia, hear,
And let your judgment be both wise and clear.
Nature's own goddess, crowned and sceptred, I
Stand forth all meaner powers to defy.
I rule the field, the mount, the sky, the sea:
Who shall presume in power to rival me?
I wave my hand; and, o'er the barren waste,
Upspringing flowers to meet my coming haste.
I smile: the trees, o'erburdened with their fruit,
Bend low, with blushing cheeks, for my salute.
I speak: the bristling hillocks, far and near,
Present in homage many an opening ear;
The grand old mountains, stately and serene,
Welcome my coming, own me as their queen;
Adown their sides I loose the mimic streams,
To sport and revel in the sun's warm beams.
I rule the mighty sea by wave and tide;
I deck with starry gems the heavens wide;
I hurl the storm upon the maddening sea;
The shifting winds, obedient, follow me;
I bind the waters in an icy band,
And spread a snowy pall o'er all the land;
With all the elements I sport at will,
And, fast or loose, all my commands fulfil.
Fair genius, 'tis but just, that, so renowned,
As empress of the world I should be crowned.

_Justicia._ There's anger in thy speech, pride in thine eye;
Ambition's soaring pinions lift thee high.
What says your rival to this weighty claim?
Can aught be found to heighten Genia's fame?

_Genia._ Justicia, I a mightier sceptre sway,
And make Primeva's realms but pave the way
To grand achievements. Through her flowery field
I drive the plough, and bounteous harvests yield;
With skilful husbandry I trim and train,
And bursting garners from wild growth obtain;
Tunnel her mountains with resistless force,
And make a pathway for the iron horse;
Gird up her waters to obey my will,
And move the strong arm of the whirring mill.
Across her broad expanse, the mighty sea,
My white-winged messengers move swift and free;
From out their earthen graves I pluck the gems
That warm and shape, or glow in diadems.
In aërial flights I wander through her sphere,
Or with rare science draw her planets near,
With touch electric feel the farthest clime,
And count the storm-specks on the wings of time.
She empress of the world! it cannot be;
All her possessions minister to me.
Rough and ill-shaped the treasure she displays;
I mould and carve, and make the jewel blaze.
I claim the crown. Justicia, be thou true;
She must be greatest who can all subdue.

_Justicia._ Unto this haughty speech, and fulsome praise,
We've listened, Genia, in a wild amaze.
Hast thou forgot, self-laudatory boast
Was ne'er the leader of a conquering host?
But that to sober justice we're allied,
We should be merry at such foolish pride.

_Genia._ We wait your verdict.

_Primeva._ 'Twill give me the crown.

_Genia._ Primeva, cease.

_Primeva._ I care not for your frown.
Betwixt the false and true she _must_ decide:
Mine is the wise, and yours the foolish pride.

_Justicia._ This idle skirmish doth our court defame;
A silly quarrel for an empty name.

_Primeva._ A silly quarrel! Is Justicia fair,
To shun a verdict by excuse so bare?

_Genia._ She's bound to rule whene'er we make appeal:
Be wise, Justicia, and your choice reveal.

_Justicia._ Hear, then, the judgment which we now proclaim:—
As each has sought to blazon her own fame,
The key to right in this one truth we find,—
She is the greatest who best serves mankind.
On this you are agreed. Here rest your case,
And leave the verdict to the human race.
Ofttimes, in Idylcourt, you've chanced to meet
An earthly maid, who favors our retreat,
With curious, watchful eyes, as though she sought
Food for the nourishment of new-born thought,—
A goodly type of fair, ingenuous youth,
About whom floats an atmosphere of truth.
Woo her, fair sisters, with all fair device,
Which should in honest rivalry suffice;
In peaceful tourney meet to win the maid;
And on the victor shall our hand be laid
In benediction of so wise a choice;
Then harmony prevails, and all rejoice.

_Primeva._ An admirable plan.

_Genia._ Justicia's right.

_Justicia._ Prepare your forces for the bloodless fight.
Be earnest in the strife, but loyal ever,
And some success _must_ crown a right endeavor.

_Chorus; air, "New-mown Hay."_

Then gayly to the tourney hie,
And struggle for the crown;
The strong in right shall all defy,
The wrong in shame go down.
In peaceful contest meeting,
All courteous be the greeting.
We arm, the contest to begin:
Hurrah! the right shall win!

_At the words, "All courteous"_ JUSTICIA _extends
her right hand_; PRIMEVA _lays her left hand upon it_; GENIA _lays
her right. They stand thus until the chorus ends. Then repeat the
chorus._ JUSTICIA _steps back, and exit_ R.; PRIMEVA _and_ GENIA
_with their attendants countermarch, and exeunt_ R. _and_ L. _As
the song ceases, enter from_ R., POESIE.

_Poesie_. Vanquished again! Was ever mortal maid
By wild, illusive phantoms so betrayed?
Taught by a wise old seer that Idylcourt
Of guiding genii is the famed resort,
I've wandered in and out for weary hours,
Seeking the leaders of those mighty powers
That robe the earth in beauty, seasons guide,
Hang out the stars, and shift the changing tide,
Endow with action all the sons of earth,
And to the good and beautiful give birth.
Alas! my search is vain. About me glide
Tormenting shadows, that my calls deride.
I feel their presence in the fragrant breeze;
I touch their fingers in the fruited trees;
I spy their images in mirrored fount;
I hear their music in the echoing mount.
I know that at their touch fair cities rise;
That at their call delighted progress flies;
That at their smiles e'en towering genius soars
To loftier heights, and richer spoil secures.
And yet far off they stand. I cannot meet
The love-light of their eyes, or at their feet
Drink in the wisdom of inspiring speech.
The springs of power rise far beyond my reach.
Hear me, ye spirits, wonderful and grand!
Upon your charmèd ground I fearless stand.
Come ye in frightful shapes, or forms of grace,
I challenge you to meet me face to face.

_Chorus: "The Fairy's Revel."_

The mountains are sending their forces in might;
The fields are upspringing, and girding for fight;
The sea is outpouring, the air is alive,
For thee, fair Primeva, in tourney to strive.

_During which, enter_, R., PRIMEVA; FLORA,
_bearing flowers_; POMONA, _bearing basket of fruit_; AGRIA, _with
a bundle of dried grass, hay, and grain_; OCEANA, SHELLIE, WAVA,
MAJESTA, LOFTIE, AERIE, _and take positions according to following
diagram_:—

_Chorus_, R. C. _Chorus_, L.
───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
_Chorus_, R. WAV. SHEL. POESIE. _Chorus_, L.
_Chorus_, R. OC. _Chorus_, L.

_Chorus_, R. POM. LOFT. _Chorus_, L.
_Chorus_, R. AGR. PRIM. AER. _Chorus_, L.
_Chorus_, R. FLO. MAJ. _Chorus_, L.

_Poesie._ Conquered at last; and yet with strange affright
I am possessed at this most dazzling sight.
Fair spirits, at my call you've kindly met.
I'm little skilled in your court etiquette:
Accept the homage of a grateful heart,
That long will cherish what you may impart.

_Primeva._ A suitor for that heart behold in me,—
Primeva, Nature's goddess, strong and free.
Follow my footsteps, and the path of life
Shall be with beauty and instruction rife.
Nature's grand empire all inviting opes,
To crown with joy and bliss thy youthful hopes.
The realm of matter owns my sovereign sway;
All working forces my commands obey.
But give to me thy heart, and onward press,
For I've the power to beautify and bless.
Come thou, fair Flora, guardian of my fields,
Display the charms thy rich dominion yields.

(FLORA _steps upon platform at_ L. _of_ POESIE. POMONA
_and_ AGRIA _step behind them_.)

_Flora._ Broad and bright, in beauty and in worth,
The realms I govern stretch about the earth:
In pastures where the meek-eyed cattle graze,
In clustering woodlands, musical with praise,
In mighty forests where the untamed rove,
O'er rich plantations, through the tropic grove,
O'er plain and prairie, noiseless to the tread,
My regal green luxuriously is spread.
Out of my thrifty soil mankind's supplies,
At lusty labor's call, obedient rise.
With fancy's touch I skilfully combine
Grove, hill, and river in a rare design,
And spread for Genius, rich, attractive views
She fails to catch, yet hopefully pursues.
Come to my realms, fair maid! Primeva's heart
With warmest love shall purest joys impart.

_Agria._ Haste, gentle maid, into our fair retreat:
Agria will lay her treasures at thy feet.

_Pomona._ And in thy lap, from her abundant store,
Pomona will her choicest treasures pour.

_Flora._ Thou shalt be welcomed with a matchless song,
Our heaven-taught singers joyously prolong;
On mossy beds recline for happy hours,
Charmed by rich perfumes, decked with lovely flowers.

_Tableau: "Flora's Tribute." Music._

POESIE _sinks on one knee, making a "lap" of her
dress with her hand_. FLORA _steps behind, holding flowers over her
head_. AGRIA _at_ R., _kneeling, in the act of laying her treasures
at her feet_. POMONA, L., _bending forward, about to pour her
fruits into her lap_. OCEANA _with her arms about_ WAVA _and_
SHELLIE, R. _and_ L., _kneel_. MAJESTA, LOFTIE, _and_ AERIE _form a
standing group, with arms thrown about each other_. POMONA _passes
to back_, L. _corner_. FLORA _looks down at_ POESIE. POESIE _has
her head thrown back, looking up at_ FLORA. _All the others look
at_ POESIE. _Music continues until the group is well settled in
position, then_,—

_Chorus; air, "The First Violets."_

Come with gentle Flora, fair fields to rove.
She can deck with beauty, she will share with love.
Bathed by the sunlight, and fed by the dew,
Her bright and verdant regions are opening to you.

_Poesie_ (_springing to her feet; others retiring to their
first positions_).

Sweet, gentle Flora, take me to your heart;
In all your joys I long to bear a part.

_Primeva._ Nay, not so fast, fair maiden. List again.
Majesta burns your homage to obtain;
She is the guardian of the mountains high,
Whose peaks in grandeur pierce the arching sky.

_Majesta._ Where the fierce eagle builds her dizzy nest,
Amid the clouds, I take my regal rest.
The sun on me his morning kiss bestows,
And nightly wraps me in his farewell glows.
The storm-king grimly musters round my throne,
And sends his chariots to the farthest zone.
My realms stretch far and wide o'er all the land,
And monuments of awe-inspiring grandeur stand.
Within my treasure-caverns locked secure,
Are precious stones, and veins of gleaming ore;
Marbles and granites—sleeping giants—lie,
Long to escape the crafty builder's eye.
Come to my realm, fair maid, and thou shalt find
The golden talisman that lures mankind.
From towering summits watch the creeping world;
See beauty's colors gloriously unfurled;
Heap the weird echoes bound from steep to steep;
And see the lightning take his earthward leap.
Primeva's fortress shall thy guardian be:
Give me thy hand, and upward mount with me.

_Tableau: "The Listeners." Music._

MAJESTA _stands_ C., _with left hand pointing up
over audience_. POESIE, _kneeling_ R., _places her left hand in_
MAJESTA'S _left, and bends forward, intently gazing in the
direction in which she points, her right hand behind her ear_.
LOFTIE _passes to_ L. _of_ MAJESTA, _and kneels with her hand on
the waist of_ MAJESTA. AERIE _in same position_, R. _of_ POESIE.
OCEANA _and her sprites form a standing group_, R., _back_. PRIMEVA
_steps back of all; and_ FLORA _and her sprites form standing
group_, L., _back. Music continues until all arranged, then_,—

_Chorus; air, "The Herd-Bells."_

Amid the mountains fleeting,
The echoes linger long,
Earth's song of praise repeating,
In chorus rich and strong.
The grand old mountains proudly
Their heads in beauty raise,
And, bathed in blushing glory,
Accept the song of praise.

[_The effect could be heightened by concealing a
chorus at the farther end of the hall, and introducing an echo
refrain in the song._]

_Poesie_ (_springing up; the others resuming their former
positions_).

Upward, Majesta, guide my willing feet;
I long to share the joys of your retreat.

_Primeva._ Curb your impatience once again, I crave.
Speak, Oceana, guardian of the wave.

_Oceana._ Know me, fair maid, as guardian of the sea,
The wealth of waters stretching far and free,
Deep basined in the world; in peace as mild,
As bright and beauteous, as a sportive child;
Dancing in sunlight up and down the sand;
Leaping, with white-capped waves, the rocky strand;
Creeping to shady nooks on pebbly bed;
Sleeping in moonlight 'neath a silvery spread.
Over her rolling roads, in strength and pride,
The floating treasure-chests of nations glide;
In emerald pastures deep beneath her crest,
The fin-clad wanderers from their gambols rest.
At mankind's call she hastes to do her part,
And from her herds bestows with generous heart.
Far, far below, fair cities rear their walls
With jewelled keeps, and coral-caverned halls.
Come to my realms, fair maid, and float with me
Upon the bosom of the swelling sea.
Hark to the song of Naiads far below;
See in the sunlight yonder billows glow.

_Tableau: "The Gazers." Music._

OCEANA _kneels on one knee_ R. _of_ POESIE,
_pointing off_ R. POESIE _places her left hand on_ OCEANA'S
_shoulder, leans forward, shades her eyes with right hand, and
looks in the direction of pointed hand_. SHELLIE _comes_ L. _of_
POESIE, _a little behind her, and kneels quickly, holding a shell
in her hand_. WAVA _kneels in front of all, with her finger to her
lip, and her hand waving silence to_ PRIMEVA, _who stands_ L. AERIE
_and her sprites form a standing group_, L., _back, and_ MAJESTA
_and her sprites the same_, R., _back; all looking in the direction
in which_ OCEANA _points. Music continues until the picture is
complete, then_,—

_Chorus; air, "Boating Song."_

Gayly, ye billows, among you we play;
Take us up gently, and bear us away;
Light on the surface of ocean we glide;
Deep in her bosom we fearless abide.
Roving at pleasure, joyous and free,
Rocked in the arms of the murmuring sea.

_Poesie_ (_starting up; others resume former positions_).

Among thy happy scenes I long to roam;
Bright Oceana, take me to thy home.

_Primeva._ Thou shalt be free to roam field, mount, and sea,
If thou but give thy gentle heart to me.
These sisters three, my ministers of state,
My edicts to enforce, obedient wait;
And I, submissive to a heavenly will,
With mighty powers its commands fulfil.
I own no earthly rule, no rival fear;
Beauty and grandeur at my voice appear;
What title, Poesie, will you here bestow
On one in whom such rare endowments glow?

_Poesie._ Thy glorious visions wrap me in amaze;
Speech were too poor, in eloquence of praise,
To frame a title that would fitly stand
To mark a power so wonderful and grand.
What title can I give? I pray thee tell.

_Primeva._ The empress of the world would suit me well.

_Enter_ JUSTICIA, R.

_Justicia._ Hold, rash Primeva! not to gain applause
Should wild ambition overstep our laws.—
What thou hast heard, fair mortal, ponder long,
For hasty action often strengthens wrong;
Another suitor comes; give willing ear;
Weigh well all doubts; then let the truth appear.

[_Exit_, R.

_Chorus_: "_The Fairy's Revel._"

The armies of Genius outpour in their might,
Fair Science is marching her clans to the fight.
At the call of its mistress Art's realms are alive,
For thee, lovely Genia, in tourney to strive.

(_During the chorus, all upon the platform move
round back of_ POESIE, _and form in line_. _Enter_ L. GENIA,
BLENDA, _and_ CLASSICA.)

_Poesie._ Another brilliant throng, so fair and bright,
My spirit quickens with a new delight.
Welcome, sweet friends: if me you come to greet,
Such glowing honors lay me at your feet.

_Genia._ Kneel not to me; I come to win thy heart.
The suitor here should choose the lowly part.
Fair mortal, listen. Genia is my name:
Art's chosen goddess, mighty is my fame.
Thou art the offspring of that sovereign Thought,
Under whose sway the universe is brought;
And I, the guiding genius of mankind,
In bonds submissive, Nature's realms to bind.
Before my birth, the world was filled with strife,
And all the squalor of barbaric life;
The human race in ignorance sunk deep,
Content to live and die in sloth and sleep.
But, with my coming, energy awoke,
And reason through the deadening chaos broke;
Awakened Thought, in wonder, sought by lore
Creation's mystic riddle to explore;
And, as she strove, the world's great change was wrought,
With purer joys from deeper delvings brought.
Beneath my sway, all's wonderful and grand
Where taste and culture deck what Nature planned.
Give me thy heart, and with all-conquering might
I'll guide thy steps through life to realms of light.
I bring three sisters in my regal train,
Who high in Art's supreme dominion reign.—
Blenda, approach. Thy skill to Poesie show,
And let rare colors on thy canvas glow.

_Blenda._ In Nature's studio, Blenda's models rise
In various shapes to gladden and surprise.
The shadows of their beauties to secure,
Leads genius many trials to endure.
But what a triumph waits the earnest heart,
Who on the canvas sees her trophies start
To life and action, adding, age on age,
To history many a bright, illumined page!
Portraying vice with rarely gifted hand,
She sees a warning light 'gainst passion stand.
Depicting virtue in her pure attire,
She warms all hearts to worship and aspire.
Inwrapping sense and soul with pleasure high,
To homage leads the world's applauding cry.
Look on the picture I will now display,—
Religion standing in the heavenly way,
Her finger pointing in the Book of truth,
Instruction pouring in the ears of youth.

_Tableau: "The Heavenly Way" Music._

BLENDA _takes_ POESIE'S _hand, and leads her_ R.,
t_hen turns, and points to_ C. POESIE _falls upon her knees with
clasped hands_. PRIMEVA _and her sprites, who are in a line, back,
separate_ R. _and_ L., _disclosing group_. RELIGION, _standing_ C.,
_an open Bible supported on her left hand, rests upon her arm, the
open pages towards audience; her right hand rests on the page, with
one finger pointing. At her right hand, kneels_ JOY, _pointing with
her left hand to_ RELIGION, _her right on the shoulder of_ SORROW,
_who is crouching before her, with her face buried in her hands.
Left of_ RELIGION, PRAYER _kneels, joining the hands of a little
child who is in front of her: she is looking up at_ RELIGION.
_Music soft and low, until the group is formed, then_,—

_Chorus_: "_How gently, how calmly._"

So gently, so calmly descending,
Religion glides over the earth,
So pure, so bright,
She decks the earth with heavenly light,
That charms to calm and sweet repose.
Oh, lovely spirit!
Genia in triumph shall soon arise;
Blenda calls beauty from out the skies;
She shall be honored evermore;
Goddess of Art, your crown is secure.
Joyous are we, &c.

(_Music continues until all change to their old positions._)

_Poesie._ I am enraptured with your beauteous art;
Sweet Blenda, let me henceforth share your heart.

_Genia._ Classica waits, fair maid: we hold her dear;
With words of counsel let her now draw near.

_Classica._ Dull, senseless stone, I train to living grace,
Trace beauty's lines upon the pallid face;
From sullen marble draw the prisoned heart,
And strength and sense to meaner clay impart.
Over the earth I rear the grandest homes,
With towering pinnacles, and stately domes;
While tombs and pyramids for ages stand,
To mark the workings of my gifted hand.
Who follows me must labor hard and long,
Be brave in trial, and in patience strong.
The tasks I spread, by perils oft beset,
The sculptor strengthen, when courageous met;
Through me, life-studies he must ponder o'er,
And dive deep down in streams of classic lore;
And, if he fails to reach his ideal plan,
Out of his struggles he has carved—a man.
But, if he triumphs, grand is his renown;
Fame can bestow no more enduring crown.
Upon my marbles, maiden, look with me;
Faith, Hope, and Charity,—the peerless three.

_Tableau: "The Peerless Three" Music._

CLASSICA _takes_ POESIE'S _hand, and leads her_
R., _then turns, and points_ C. POESIE _falls upon her knees. The
characters at back separate, showing group_: CHARITY, _a tall
figure_, C., _her left hand upon the left shoulder of a child, who
stands nearly in front of her, half turned towards her, with
outstretched hand, into which_ CHARITY _is in the act of dropping a
coin, with her right hand. At_ R. _of_ CHARITY _stands_ HOPE,
_leaning upon an anchor, looking at_ CHARITY. _On her_ L. _stands_
FAITH, _with her arms folded about a large cross, which rests upon
the platform, and reaches above her shoulder_. FAITH _and_ HOPE
s_hould be a little shorter than_ CHARITY. _All the figures in
plain white, no colors; the cross and the anchor should be white.
Music soft and low until all is arranged, then_,—

_Chorus_; _air, "How gently, how calmly."_

How calmly, how sweetly relieving,
Moves Charity over the earth,
With Faith and Hope!
They deck the earth with heavenly light,
That charms to calm and sweet belief.
Oh, lovely spirits!
Genia in triumph shall now arise;
Classica calls from out the skies;
Her works for ages shall endure;
Goddess of Art, your crown is secure.
Joyous are we, &c.

_Poesie_ (_starting up; line at back changing as
before_).

Classica, thy sculptured forms are all divine.
Has Art another realm can equal thine?

_Genia._ Thou shalt be judge, fair maid; within my train,
Is one who can the wildest heart enchain;
She rules the realm of song, melodious moves,
Gathering the warbled sweets of woodland groves;
And thence distilling soul-entrancing lays,
That fill the earth with peace, the heavens with praise.
Spirit of music, sweet Harmonia, wake:
Of thy rich gifts bid Poesie partake.

_Music. Characters at back separate._ HARMONIA
_discovered_, C., _standing erect, a lyre in her left hand, the
fingers of her right upon the strings_. POESIE _moves up, and
kneels at her feet, looking up at her with clasped hands. The
characters group themselves in sitting and reclining positions
about her._ PRIMEVA _and_ GENIA _stand at extreme_ R. _and_ L.,
_back_.

_Solo and chorus_: "_So merrily over the Ocean
Spray._"

HARMONIA _sings the three solos, then full chorus_.

_Solo._ I am queen of the realm of song,
My home the harmonious sea,
Where the spirits of music prolong
Unceasing a welcome for me.
From the song wave they merrily brave,
Melodious voices glide;
Oh, sweet is their song as it floateth along
The crest of the tremulous tide!

_Chorus._ So merrily over the sea of song,
Rising and falling we float along;
So merrily over the sea of song,
Gayly we float along.
Gayly over the sea,
Harmonia's spirits free,
Singing, singing,
Happy, happy are we.
As merrily over the sea of song,
Rising and falling we float along;
So merrily over the sea of song,
Over the sea of song,
Gayly we float along,
Gayly we float along.