THE WORKS OF ALEISTER CROWLEY Vol. III, part 2 of 3 ASCII VERSION November 21, 1993 e.v. key entry by Bill Heidrick, T.G. of O.T.O. January 29, 1994 e.v. proofed and conformed to the "Essay Competition Copy" edition of 1907 e.v. by Bill Heidrick T.G. of O.T.O. File 2 of 3. Copyright (c) O.T.O. O.T.O. P.O.Box 430 Fairfax, CA 94978 USA (415) 454-5176 ---- Messages only. This work was originally published in two parallel columns. Where such columns are found in the original, they have been rendered as a single text with "A" or "B" added to the page number at the end of each column: A = end page left column. B = end page right column. On many pages a prefatory paragraph or a concluding group of sentences is full across the page. These instances are noted in curly brackets. Pages in the original are marked thus at the bottom: {page number} or {page number A} and {page number B}. 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Not for "share-ware" distribution or inclusion in any commercial enterprise. ************************************************************************ 1906 A DRAMATIC VERSION<<1>> OF R. L. STEVENSON'S STORY THE SIRE DE MALETROIT'S DOOR ("Written in collaboration with" GERALD KELLY) {columns resume} <<1. This play has been publicly performed within the United Kingdom. It is entered at Stationers' Hall. All rights reserved.>> SCENE I. "The" SIRE DE MALETROIT "sitting before the fire. A chime of bells -- eleven." ALAIN. 'Leven 'o the clock! Plague take these lovers! What? do they make a Maletroit wait? ["Picks up letter from table -- reads"] "Mademoiselle" -- um, um, -- "my words might show that love which I cannot declare in writing" -- very likely -- "nor raise a blush on that alabaster brow" -- um! um! ah! -- "embrace of the eyes" -- is the fellow an octopus? -- "Tho' you do not respond to my letters" -- ah! -- "yet I would not have you leave me" -- I daresay not -- "Pity me, moon-like queen" -- moonlike? um! -- "Leave the postern door ajar" -- well, it is ajar -- "that I may speak with your beauty on the stairs" -- um -- can't meet him there. Cold! cold! ["Sniffs."] A pretty letter. ["Throws it aside."] Andrew! some more logs. ["Enter" ANDREW.] I expect company. ["Chuckles long."] The old Burgundy, Andrew. ["Exit" ANDREW.] I propose to squeeze Duke Charles' grapes, though fate and my age forbid me a smack at his forces -- "neu sinas Medos equitare inultos" -- but our good King is no Augustus. ["Strikes gong. Enter" PRIEST "quietly and quickly." ALAN "does not turn round." Good evening, father. All is ready? PRIEST. All, my lord. {68A} ALAIN. It is near the time. She has remained in her room? PRIEST. All the day. ALAIN. Has she attempted no message? eh? PRIEST. Sir, she --- ALAIN. ["Interrupts."] She has not succeeded, at least? PRIEST. I am still Father Jerome. ["Pause." ALAIN. She is ready dressed as I ordered? And now praying in the Chapel? [ALAN "gets up and can now see" PRIEST. PRIEST. As you ordered, my lord. ALAIN. Content? [PRIEST "puts out his hands with the gesture 'hardly.'" PRIEST. Young maids are wilful, my lord. {68B} ALAIN. Let her be resigned to the will of Heaven. ["The" PRIEST "smiles subtly." ALAIN "perceives it."] And "my" will. ["Strikes gong twice."] You may retire, father. [PRIEST "bows and retires. Enter" CAPTAIN "and stands at salute."] Ah, Captain, you have your fifty men in readiness? CAPTAIN. Yes, my lord. ["Salutes."] ALAIN. Let them be drawn up behind yon door. When I clap my hands you will raise the arras, but let no man move. And let 'em be silent -- the man I hear I hang. [CAPTAIN "salutes."] You may go. [CAPTAIN "salutes, and exit." ALAIN "reaches to a tome on the table."] Now, Flaccus, let us spend this night together as we have spent so many. The crisis of my life -- my brother's trust, God rest his soul! ["crosses himself and mutters silently in prayer"] -- shall not find Alain de Maletroit unready or disturbed. SCENE CLOSES SCENE II.<<1>> <<1. The play may be presented in a single scene, by omitting this Scene, and joining Scenes I. and III. by the noise of a banging door.>> "A narrow dirty street in Paris, fifteenth century. Night pitch black. Passers-by with lanterns." FIRST PASSER-BY "stumbles into" SECOND. SECOND PASSER-BY. Zounds, man! have a care with thy goings. FIRST PASSER-BY. Stand, or I strike. Who but a thief goes lanternless o'nights? {69A} SECOND PASSER-BY. The saints be praised, 'tis my good gossip Peter Halse. What, knowest thou not thy old friend? [FIRST PASSER-BY "lifts his lantern to the other's face." FIRST PASSER-BY. Martin Cloche, by the Mass! SECOND PASSER-BY. Ay, Martin Cloche! And his lantern hath gone out, and his heart faileth him somewhat. But these be troublous times. ["Enter" FLORIMOND "and waits." FIRST PASSER-BY. The town is full of these drunken English men-at-arms. SECOND PASSER-BY. The English be bad, but God save us from the Burgundians! Their own cousin-germans be we, and for that they are but bitterer. FLORIMOND. Devil take them! What, will they stand here gossiping all night? FIRST PASSER-BY. 'Tis a cold night: I would be home. SECOND PASSER-BY. Light me, prithee, to my door: it lieth as thou knowest, but a stone's-throw from St. Yniold's. FIRST PASSER-BY. Well, let us be going. ["Exeunt." FLORIMOND. Now for the moment I have longed for this three months! Blanche! Blanche! I shall see thee, touch thee -- who knows what {69B} maiden love may work on maiden modesty? Ah, fall deeper, ye blessed shadows! Ye are light enough for Florimond de Champdivers to move toward his bliss! ["Noise of clashing armour, ribald laughter, &c. Enter the Watch," R., "drunk." A WATCHMAN. Ho, boys! a gay night for thieves. FLORIMOND. Curse the sots! ["Crouches back in the shadow." SECOND WATCHMAN. ("Sings") The soldier's life is short and merry, His mistress' lips are ripe as a cherry, Then drink, drink! The guns roar out and the swords flash clean, And the soldier sleepeth under the green, Oh, the soldier's life for me! But a scurvy night it is, comrades, when the streets are slippery, and the wine cold in a man's belly, and never a little white rabbit of a woman scuttling along in the dark. THIRD WATCHMAN. What ho! my lads! Here's a scurvy Frenchman skulking along. What, will you make your lass attend you, master? FLORIMOND. Loose me, knave, I am for England, and a Captain in your army, or rather that of Burgundy -- if you will be precise. FIRST WATCHMAN. What do you here, without a lantern, scaring honest folk? FLORIMOND. Honesty is no word for to-night. Will you the loyal man's word? {70A} SECOND WATCHMAN. That's it, my gallant cock! The word! FLORIMOND. Burgundy and freedom. THIRD WATCHMAN. So! Give a crown to the poor watchmen then to drink your Excellency's health, and luck to your honour's love. Ah! we're gay when we're young -- I've a sweetheart myself. FLORIMOND. And now be off! ["Gives money. Exeunt." Cold! -- the devil! Ah! but to-night -- at last I shall touch my Blanche. May Blanche warm me well with a hearty kiss! The little white cat! Three months! And I've not so much as exchanged a word. There must be an end to all that. Faith, but she makes me think of Biondetta, that I knew in the Italian campaign. O my Blanche! One moment, and I am in thine arms! Blanche! Sweet, sweet Blanche. O little white-faced rose of France. A soldier's heart is thi...
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