COLUMBINE: [Screams.] My God! What’s that there under the table?
PIERROT: It is the bodies Of the two shepherds from the other play.
COLUMBINE: [Slowly.] How curious to strangle him like that, With colored paper ribbons.
PIERROT: Yes, and yet I dare say he is just as dead. [Pauses. Calls.] Cothurnus! Come drag these bodies out of here! We can’t Sit down and eat with two dead bodies lying Under the table! . . . The audience wouldn’t stand for it!
COTHURNUS: (Off stage.) What makes you think so?— Pull down the tablecloth On the other side, and hide them from the house, And play the farce. The audience will forget.
PIERROT: That’s so. Give me a hand there, Columbine.
[PIERROT and COLUMBINE pull down the table cover in such a way that the two bodies are hidden from the house, then merrily set their bowls back on the table, draw up their chairs, and begin the play exactly as before.]
COLUMBINE: Pierrot, a macaroon,—I cannot _live_ without a macaroon!
PIERROT: My only love, You are _so_ intense! ... Is it Tuesday, Columbine?— I’ll kiss you if it’s Tuesday.
COLUMBINE: It is Wednesday, If you must know. ... Is this my artichoke Or yours?
PIERROT: Ah, Columbine, as if it mattered! Wednesday. . . . Will it be Tuesday, then, to‐morrow, By any chance? . . .
AS PLAYED BY THE PROVINCETOWN PLAYERS, NEW YORK CITY
So great is my vexation always, when reading a play, to find its progress constantly being halted and its structure loosened by elaborate explanatory parentheses, that I resolved when I should publish Aria da Capo to incorporate into its text only those explanations the omission of which might confuse the reader or lend a wrong interpretation to the lines. Since, however, Aria da Capo was written not only to be read but also to be acted, and being conscious that the exclusion of the usual directions, while clarifying the play to the reader, may make it bare of suggestions and somewhat baffling to the producer, I am adding here some remarks which have been found of value in preparing it for presentation on the stage.
Since the production of Aria da Capo by the Provincetown Players, I have received a great many letters from the directors of little theatres, asking for copies of it with a view to producing it. Very often, after I send the play, I receive a letter in reply asking for some suggestions for its presentation, and enclosing direct questions on points that have been difficult. It occurred to me finally that it would be reasonable to make up a sort of informal prompt‐book to send about with the play; and it is that which is printed below. It will be found incomplete and uneven, in some instances unnecessarily detailed, in others not sufficiently so; all of which is due to the fact that it was put together loosely, from answers to chance questions, rather than logically, as an entity in itself.