Schuster School - Proscenium Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

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THE PAINTER LDeliberatelyswalch-ing the effect on henl No. PALMYRE IWI'UJ angry determinationj Then I shaII disobey. Lyle starts 10 gal THE PAINTER ICommands.I PaImyre. I556 stopsi Palmyre, you are my wife. Do you recall The day 1 brought you here? I held you thus, Thus - as I hold you now s close to my breast, And in the glowing splendor of your eyes There seemed to shine the answer to the call My heart sent out to yours. I have not changed. My love for you is constant as that star Which shines each evening over the lagoon. Either you never loved me, or that low: s From too great Cherishing, perhaps - has died. Tell me. To know you never cared for me Will hurt me Iess than feeling I have lost Through some unwitting cause, what once was mine. PALMYRE Oh, let me go! You hurt me, let me go! THE PAINTER Nay, do not struggle. Fear is in your eyes. I do not judge you. Yet you fear to stay A shadowy twilight through alone with me -- With me s who love you, Palmyre. PALMYRE Yes, I fear I I fear for him. He dies at dawn. O God! 0 let me pay! You do not understand - This ring wiII save him. It is but a stone, What is its worth compared to a mans life? THE. PAINTER I see, I see. PALMYRE You do not understand! THE PAINTER Yes, too well. The gallant gambler wins! Yes, I have known before, yet tried to blind My eyes. I was a coward. Truth is truth. Give me that ring and give him this to sell. EH6 gives her a ring from his fingerl 'TwiIl bring a greater sum. This little stone Was for the child. I will not have it sold. ' Page forty-eight

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THE. PAINTER Yes all, if but once more you will seem mine In spirit as in flesh. You used to be F- 01' was it all a dream? Had you a soul That somehow died when I essayed to grasp Thy beauty which escaped me, leaving naught But thy fair body? Has the rose I pressed Close to my hungry heart faded and diecl, StiHed With tenderness? Has thy soul fled, Or was it ever there? My little dream! Those days are gone: I thought you had a soul. PALMYRE I do not understand your talk of souls. I know I love you as I always have, And ever Will. My cousin is my kin, In trouble and in need. Your jealousy Has wrought strange fancies in your mind, and -e Well? Will you give me the sum? A thousand Iire. THE PAINTER And if I should refuse? PALMYRE IIII sell my ring. THE. PAINTER The topaz? PALMYRE No. That was sold long ago. No, I shall sell this one. ,Tis all I have. THE PAINTER The diamond I gave you at the birth Of our one Child. No, no, Palmyre, not that! PALMYRE. IDclermfnedI Then you must give to me the thousand lire. THE. PAINTER I cannot. But tomorrowe PALMYRE Will be too Iate. No. Tonight he either pays -- or dies. Oh! don,t you understand? It means his life! Now - will you let me sell the little ring, Or give me what he needs e the thousand lire? Page forty-scven

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PALMYRE. erelieved, and more gentle than hitherto, as if trying to atone in some measure.J ,Tis early yet. Come, let us sit together As often we did in that first strange year, When I so heedlessly became your wife. THE PAINTER Heedlessly. Yes, that is true, Paimyre. My love seemed answered then, and even now I think you're fond of me, tho' of thy Whole Heart I was never master. There's a love That somehow we have missed: You cannot see God in the painted music of the skies, The love I knew e or dreamed of - cannot bloom In your strange heart. iA whistle outsidc.1 PALMYRE iRising hurriedly, apologetically, as she is going. E For just a little while. taxiH THE PAINTER tPacing restlessly up and down. I What does he do to please her? I know some Would kill him outright. Kill the thing she loves? Strange, I cannot deny her anything. Weak, weak! l'Seeing the outsidej She slips my ring upon his hand. II He takes a short dagger from his belt and Jingers iLJ To kill them both q and still their childlike hearts -- God, how he kisses her! That long embrace Must end! Eternity shall part or join Their erring souls! She is - she was - my Wife. God judge me if mine be the greater crime! i.gxilj iThe curtain falls and is almost immediately raised. Some time has elapsed, for the moon is almost setting. A shaft of light falls on PALMYRE'S dead body lying on the marble bench. THE PAINTER stands. silent, looking at it. He has staunched the blood with a handkerchief and crossed her hands upon her breastj THE PAINTER 0 beautiful! My beautiful Palmyre. . Thou canst not now deny me thy cold lips! iHe kisses lienl Curtain. Page forty-nine