'A Comedy of Errors' in Seven Acts by Spokeshave (poetry books to read .TXT) 📕
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For lechery, like plaster o'er the walls,
They have no tolerance within their souls:
But there are those who will stalk any game.
Nor like myself, do they beauty demand.
If matters not if but the figure wears
Garb feminine, they'll ready take the scent,
And like to well trained hounds leave not the trail
Until the quarry is at length run down.
And this I must apply to Francos' ear,
Thus breeding deep contempt, clothed with distrust,
For him who puketh up a sour disdain,
From stomach filled with racial prejudice,
That shall his downfall speed, helped by the spleen,
Which pampered youth, fed with a golden spoon,
Must ever show, whene'er its will is crossed.
And thus will I proceed to "cook his goose,"
Until the flesh shall cleave from off its bones.
But as it seemeth to my anxious mind,
I read uncertainty in Francos' eye,
"The welfare of thy people" once he voiced,
Such words make music not unto mine ear.
(Disdainfully)
"Thy people!" So it is that Francos speaks.
Ah! little do the workings of his mind
Discern that we who seek the pow'r to rule
Feel not the Tao blood coursing our veins.
For it by stain Caucasian is submerged;
Still, we a ladder make of sable backs,
To climb aloft into the chairs of state.
Exampling thus: "The fittest must survive".
A narrow man, though cast in honest mould,
May mischief work, while conscience wears a smile.
To Francos' I would dare not ope my heart,
So I must feel my way with catlike tread,
And strive with minor things to stuff him full,
So points of import shall his mind escape.
Francos (drawing near):
I bid thee happy morn, illustrious friend;
A morn portending a most perfect day.
Quezox:
'Tis thus our morn politic brightly breaks
But storms, by Jove engendered, may e'er Night
Enfolds her sable mantle for repose,
Wither the budding dreams that fill our breasts,
And deep within the cave of darkness cast
Ambitions holy which now swell to burst.
Francos:
Good Quezox, why dost thou so deep despond?
Methinks the future wears a gladsome smile,
The children of thy race now spy a star
Which like to that of Bethlehem may lead
Them in the future to a state of bliss.
Quezox:
Ah, noble sire, mayhap our children may,
But what of us who years have now attained?
Francos:
Ah, Quezox, I did only figure use.
Well dost thou know it rests upon their deeds;
But demonstrate their worth and all were well,
And then we'll speed us to our native land.
Quezox: But, noble Francos, we now wend our way
To meet the vermin which do suck our blood,
And they with tongues which serpent-like can charm
May fool thee with their tales of dire intent.
Francos: (striking his breast):
Fear not, they soon shall feel how vain it were
To seek to trick one who, in halls of state,
Hath met the wiles of shrewd, self-seeking men,
But to ward off attack with virtue's shield.
Captain and Seldonskip approach.
Captain: Most noble potentate, as I my rounds
Of observation make, it pleasures me
Most mightily, to make obeisance to
The one so honored by his native land.
As captain of a vessel may be judged
By those subordinate to his command,
So do I quick conception of thee form.
By the broad mental gifts of Seldonskip
Who were the hose, through which thy mind doth squirt
Most sapient thought, for mankind's betterment.
Seldonskip: You bet his wisdom squirts until I feel
As if my think tank were about to bust.
Francos: Good captain, greatly hast thou honored me
And from such worthy source, I doubly feel
The compliment were born from honor's womb;
Anon, with thee would I more converse hold.
(Captain and Seldonskip move off.)
Francos to Quezox:
Good Quezox, this young squirt doth raise my bile,
I fear some contretemps his tongue may raise.
Quezox: Most noble sire, this youth hath long been bred,
To gentle food which fits him ill to wage.
Against his passions all sufficient strife,
I fear lest close relation works you ill.
Francos: Alas 'tis true that soft environments,
Take hold upon the child and grip him fast.
Quezox: And yet if seeds of manhood there inhere
'Twere time for them to sprout and outward shoot.
(Earnestly)
I like not tattling tongues yet I must voice,
A matter which hath cut me to the quick:
On yester morn, I in sweet converse joined,
With one who wears angelic form divine,
When this presuming fop with jeering eye,
Made bold to amble, with convenient ear.
Till we, forsooth, were forced to silence woo.
But let us turn awhile to pleasant thoughts.
What has been fashioned for the glorious day
When we shall thrust our journey in the past
And meet rejoicing thousands at the pier?
(Seldonskip approaches speaks)
Well, Governor, thy message hath on wings
Of lightning sped its hurried way, and now
Methinks the anxious throng which fears the ax,
Will hustle mightily for stovepipe hats
To fit surmount their trembling heads, and so
Make happy pair with coat of Tam'ny cut.
Francos:
Ha! Well 'twere done; but art thou doubly sure
That careless word of wrong import hath not
Enwoofed itself within this note of state?
Seldonskip:
You bet your life, the thing is all O. K.
Francos:
But, my good friend, what hast thou in thine hand?
(Laughingly)
Is it design of some sweet maiden fair?
(Looks at the picture and discovers Bryan)
Ha! Ha! I see, 'tis he who wrecked our choice.
This Commoner hath but a shallow mind
Which like a windmill moves a lively tongue.
(Seldonskip moves off, replacing the picture close to his
breast, muttering)
My fighting cock, you're crowing mighty loud,
But Bryan holds old Wilson in his hand.
(Francos and Quezox walk the deck)
Quezox: Most noble sire, I marvel at the speech
Which from the mouth of Seldonskip doth flow;
For highest office, he no rev'rence feels
And "slang" were but fit outflow of his mind.
Francos: 'Tis ever thus with those born to great wealth
It swells them up and whale like they do spout.
But gold hath pow'r and it were well indeed
Not to seek combat with a foe so stout.
'Twere best to pass their idle blust'ring by
For it doth vanish like the dew at morn.
Quezox: It vomits me to gulp the morsel down
Yet I thy hint, subservient, will obey.
(Aside)
(But wisdom whispers keep thy bolo sharp
And his fifth rib, perchance, may feel its prick.)
Francos: But Quezox, let us in the future delve,
For time doth swiftly waft us to our port.
Where I must Caesar's message loud proclaim
And my strong obligation to you voice.
Our noble functions must be so performed,
That happy impress graves the rabble mind
But thus to meet these vultures with a smile
Doth like a colic make mine honor gripe,
Machiavelian methods were in sooth
The better physic for the patients' needs
And I like good physician must the probe
Thrust in and sound the ugly, gaping wound.
Quezox: Most noble sire, if I may caution speak
It were to all this filthy, croaking brood
Ne'er lend an open ear, for in it they
Will honey-coated poison quick distil.
Francos: Trust me, good Quezox, I to every thrust,
Of treach'rous blade, will offer ample shield.
Methinks I'll place them on the waiting rack
And while I promises sweet-coated make,
Will gently turn the screw until their bones
Do crack. And then to happy period make,
The ax shall deftly lop some waiting head,
With touch most skilful, mellowed by a smile.
Quezox: And, noble sire, I pray thee hasten not
But let it pleasure thee to so proceed
That dire suspense may make the waiting wretch
More keenly feel the act of justice stern.
Sweet to my soul 'twill be to walk the street
And meet prospective victims ere they fall.
The secret, while a tonic to my soul,
Prepays me mightily for past neglect.
Francos: But Ha! The port is nigh and we must hie
(The City in the distance)
Us to our cabins to enrobe with coats
Of Tam'ny cut, and silken stovepipe hats—
(Anxiously)
But, Quezox, tell me, shall we be beset
By bugs and fleas and snakes and creeping things?
And microbes? Are they floating in the air
So that in speech I'll dare not ope my mouth?
Seldonskip (aside) O, shucks! I should worry!
Quezox: Most puissant Sir, dread not the microbes!
A charm, ecclesiastical, well blessed,
Will ward them off; but what befears me most
Is vermin which infest the offices.
(Seldonskip wearing a plug hat, walks slowly along leering
at Quezox).
(Speaks) Oh Rats! Rats!! and then again more Rats!!!
ACT III Dramatis PersonaeCaesar . . . . . . Ruler of the State.
Francos . . . . . . Governor General of a Province.
Quezox . . . . . . Resident Delegate from the Province.
Seldonskip: . . . Secretary to the Governor General.
Scene I. Throne Room at the Capitol.
Caesar soliloquizing.
'Tis done! The die indeed is safely cast.
And Wisdom smiles, while seated on her throne.
'Twere well to kill two birds with one shrewd fling
Of fortune's stone, and thus from grievous ills
Which close enwrapped by robes of custom, are
Work freedom from the threats of cruel fate.
Francos, whose mental woof is frail indeed,
Stood for promotion to important post.
Which might embarrass all the wheels of state,
And so 'twere well within his itching hand
To place commission for those distant Isles
Where mild efficiency can work no harm.
'Tis strange that Francos in the halls of state
So long hath squatted, in a chair too big,
But still much gold can smooth a thorny path
And work discovery of hidden worth.
With modest mental gifts, but gentle mien
He ill is fitted for promotion here.
But it were matter of but little weight
With Quezox as a mentor at his side,
What he shall fashion in his pigmy state,
For squirt from wisdom's fount can quench each flame.
But Quezox? Can I trust this sable knight?
He speaketh soft, but lurking in each smile
Methinks I spy a double meaning there.
'Twere well to bring Dame Caution to the front
And hold this fellow, as he runs, in leash;
For he, while fat with wisdom, may of guile
Be deeply feeding, and from stomach weak
May spew deep discord when we least expect.
I have it! well 'tis known that Wisdom's bird,
While winging daily flight, hath hovered o'er
Our foes politic, and hath often shunned
To make her nest in Democratic boughs.
'Twere well to seek from out the tricky foe
One who shall balance, like the flying wheel,
The various acts of Francos and his crew
And so most shrewdly curb the critic tongues
That wag within the jaws of foes most keen,
Thus hiding well, from all the thoughtless world.
The deep intent which labors in our breast.
And which in time shall like the bird encased
By brittle shell, break forth and fly aloft,
Singing to startled worlds sweet freedom's song.
But woe is me! My mem'ry playeth false,
For he of ponderous girth, in Island home
Seeketh to grow more fat on public swill.
And he presumeth, justly too, on what
His silver tongue did work to boost me on.
But still, lean men are best for action keen,
For too much fatness burdeneth the mind
And speaks in trumpet tones of strong desire
For pleasures, and mayhap for cards and wine.
And so 'twere best to know this Falstaff not
For pow'r politic ne'er can from his hand
Against me work dire mischief, for his tongue
Is locked securely by our party key.
But I must call the lightning to mine aid,
And order him who now bemoans his fate,
To scan the bailiwick for pots and pans,
That Francos no discomfort may incur.
For he so long in Fate's kind lap hath lain,
That he must ill be fitted to his task
Unless luxurious easements smooth his way
And jars discomforting wring not his soul.
Exit Caesar.
Scene 2. Ship on the Ocean.
Quezox and Francos walking the deck.
Quezox: Most worthy Francos, so my mind hath cast
A heavy load aside, and eager now, with hope,
I long to meet the foe
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