The Aztec god and other dramas

Contents

THE AZTEC GOD.

INTRODUCTION : PLACE AND TIME.

The scene of this drama is laid in Mexico near the opening of the Fifteenth Century, just when the Aztecs were beginning to overrun the country, and when, therefore, the peculiar forms of their religion may reasonably be supposed to have been comparatively unknown to the Tezcucans who, as will be shown presently, adhered, in the main, to the more mild religious observances of the ancient Toltecs.

Act First

Scene: — A forest. Backing, a tree with a moss-covered elevation or bench at its Right. Many Entrances at the Right and Left through the trees. The darkness of a storm by day, with occasional thunder and lightning. Contending bands of warriors in flight and pursuit cross the stage from Left to Right.

Enter — Left — Kootha attended by his Companion.

^[KooTHA (to his Companion).

Oh, what a whirlwind's wave-lashed sea is

war!

Then hate breaks loose to over-flood the world. Hurling all love-built order upside down Till weal is drowned in darkness of the deep, And wreckage rides the crest. — They might have known

^ These brackets — [ and ] — are placed before and after passages which, in reading or presentation, may be omitted without interfering with the unfolding of the plot.

lO THE AZTEC GOD.

They would be tricked. War's tactics all are acts

Of treachery — the one sole sphere where he

Who does the worst thing does the best, here faith

Falls crushed beneath the trampling foot of force ;

And fair means trip, trailed mireward after foul.]

Enter — Right — Officer.

Officer. What, Kootha, you here? KooTHA. Ay.

Officer. What for?

Kootha. To see

The tragedy.

Officer. Is over now.

Kootha. The fight?—

I mean not that; but you have captives. Officer. Crowds.

Kootha. And them I came to see. Officer. Yes, you are he

That waits on them till sacrificed. Kootha. I do.

Officer. And you take pleasure in it ? Kootha. So they say. —

Why ? — You would not ?

Officer. In part of it I might. —

For you, too, like an angel, bring to each

The maiden he is free to love and wed.

THE AZTEC GOD. II

KooTHA. And I, too, ride the nightmare, sped him when His love o'erflows in dreams of Paradise. I come to tell him just the way to reach it, Describe the scene awaiting on the morrow — His own stripped, cringing form — and, over

there.

Each man, maid, child in town agog to see him ; Then how the priests will throttle, throw him

down.

And, while yet living, writhing, yelling, sane. Gouge their blunt nails between his reeking

ribs.

And, by the roots, tear out his dripping heart.

[Officer. Ugh ! — I would rather be a soldier.

KooTHA. What? —

And miss a spectacle so rare ? — that play Of fright and agony, in white and shade Breaking in contrast o'er your victim's brow? Why, what is life without variety?

Officer. You see too much of it.

KooTHA. Oh no! — no more

Than all men do — perhaps concentered more Than hell vouchsafes to others ! That is all.]

Officer {pointing toward the Left). See there — the maids are coming now.

KooTHA. Of course,

To snare the captive that your spears have spared.

They know the first with whom they fall in love

Will be the first one whom the priest will call

The chosen of the gods, and send to — heaven.

What cares a maid, be he her victim too? Officer. You mean her lover.

KooTHA. Victim.

[Officer. Humph! I see:

A soldier's life seems lovelier, then? KooTHA. Why not ? —

A man-foe is a brute, a shark that whacks

The spirit's prow and whirls it from its course.

A maid may be a devil, seizing on

The spirit's helm to turn it where she will.

Her victim though — he thinks her will is his.

You never knew a man to dodge the touch

Of love-like fingers feeling for his heart.

That heart held once within a grip so gained,

Will take each wrench that wrings its lifeblood out

To be its own pulsation.] Officer. I, at least,

Am not their victim yet, and so I leave. Exit — Right — Officer.

KooTHA {to his Companion).

No, not their victim; but his captives are;

And they are our own kin, whom we, forsooth,

Must fool and lure to slaughter. How I longed

For their success! Yet why? — Am well off

here; And they might not have deem'd us of their

tribe, — So young we were w^hen captured, now so like The native. Yet could I but save Waloon, — My brother's child, king's daughter too! but

here This Haijo, he who maimed me — made me

slave, Haijo, he trains her like a flowering weed To clip and fling up to the royal couch. When comes the time her beauty blooms in

full.

Poor duped Waloon! — Oh, I can bear my fate! But she — to see her grow what Haijo wills. Deem nothing true or right in earth or air Except what he enjoins I — be so much his That even I, who ought, I do not dare To let her know the foe we just have fought Are our own kinsmen' What can curse one

worse Than force that jails expression, whether

walled In masonry or flesh ! — Though it may be Fit training for a life whose brightest end Is death. If all men die alone, may be They ought to learn, ere death, to live alone. Enter — Left — Several Women.

First Woman. Aha, you think so, do you, Kootha ?

KOOTHA. You

Have come to make a lonely lot seem bliss? What business brings you here?

(gesturing to make them retire.) Second Woman {advancing in a supplicating

way). We came to pray

Kootha. Oh, yes, I know, j^ou always come to prey.

So do the buzzards, but we drive them ba.ck.

Second Woman. We seek

Kootha. Why say not lose? — You hope to lose

Your hearts in this place.

First Woman {sarcastically).

Not in this place, Kootha.

It must be further on. {She tries to pass him.) Kootha {preventing her). No, no, stay back. First Woman. Stay back? — Stay back yourself. Are 3^ou the one Commanding here — a slave of priests like

you?

What use have priests upon a battle-field? Kootha. To save souls from perdition — am between The men and you.

First Woman. The fight is over.

Kootha. Then

Do let the warriors have a little rest.

Why break their peace, before you get them

home? [First Woman. No fear for your peace! You may stay alone!

There are those, though, who want us. KooTHA. There are men

Who lose their senses. I have heard of those With ears too dull to hear a bat when squealing.

And flesh too tough to feel a flea when stinging.

Second Woman {to First Woman).

Why stand and talk ? We have a right to see The captives. Kootha knows it too.

{To Kootha). Stand back! {To First Woman).

Go forward!

Kootha. Nay, leave forwardness to men.

Have backwardness. It best becomes a woman.] {An arrow, coming from the right, falls upon the stage. Kootha picks it up.) See there — an arrow ! The\^ are fighting still. You may get more of these through your own

hearts Than even you could dream to send through others'.

Women. Oh! oh!

Exeunt — Left — the Women in fright.

KoOTHA {looking after them, and then toward the right). The fight and flight not over? — Humph !

Exit — Left — KooTHA and his Companion. {After a little, amid thunder and lightning), Enter — Right Rear — Wapella.

E7iter — Right Front — Monaska. Wapella. That you, Monaska?

Monaska. Yes, and you?

Wapella. Wapella.

Monaska. What man can fight both earth and

heaven ?

Wapella. Some fiend

Is raining down these fiery storm-bolts. Monaska. Yes,

We meet the foe, and in their track, as if Out-cowarding the just-caught cuttle-fish. This gloom exudes upon the flooding light. Wapella. We might have scaled their hill,

but not these heavens.

Monaska. We just had drawn our bows, each arrow aimed To wedge eternal stillness in between Unhinging joints of some affrighted heart, When down upon us burst that thunderflash.

The shock, so sudden, glanced the arrows up As if to shoot them in the face of gods Asail the clouds in yon black gulf. It gave

Their men their chance. With one wild yell

and bound They closed like smoke about the lightning's

fire; And, all with darts whirled on like sparks

before A flame that followed, they came roaring on To fill the gaps their shots had made. [Oh,

hell!

Not one of us but saw, mount fiercely up The dying body of some fallen friend, What seemed wild fiends.

Wapella. How know you but they were? — Grim phantom-spirits of the earth and air — The same that now pursue us? — And from

them You fled?

MoNASKA. Fled? — Never! No, with them I fought.

Till all I fought for but myself were not. Wapella. Hush ! They w^ill find us. MoNASKA. Ay, they will — too soon.

Each fearful time this lid of heaven is lifted, The rays pour in and focus here on us. They axle here the foes' near wheeling lines, Ay, draw them like a whirlpool to its vortex. Wapella. This tree will shield us. {The two move toward a tree at the Back Centre with a moss-covered bench at the Right of it.)

MoNASKA. There is not a tree

Or leaf, or trunk, but what, to point us out, These fiery fingers of the storm would dash Aside to ashes — fume — thin air.] Wapella {leading Monaska toward the moss-covered bench, and sitting down, then rising). We here

Are hid as could be hoped for. Monaska. I hope not

For anything. Sweet hope is a bird of light. The pulsing touch of whose aspiring wing Thrills to new life the very air one breathes. In gloom like ours the trembling heart but

leaps To dodge the whir of some blind bat of fear. Wapella {looking toward the Left).

Hark! There seems human rhythm in this

hell.

What hot pursuit is it comes burning through These crackling branches?

( Vivid lightning.) Monaska {pointing toward the Left).

Did you see it?

Wapella. No.

But when I do {drawing his how.)

Monaska {placing his hand on the bow).

Hold! — Could one ever see An angel, hers would be a form like that. Wapella. An angel? — fiend!

MoNASKA. Right! Only fools have faith

In forms they have not wit to find unfrocked. Not sages even see the spirit through them. We flee.

Wapella {placing his hand on his hip, and sinking down). I cannot.

MoNASKA. What? — Are wounded?

Wapella. Yes.

MoNASKA {sitting on the moss-covered seat beside

him). Then I stay too.

Wapella. Nay, go.

MoNASKA {lying down on the moss-covered elevation). Not I. — No man Can wish us ill, the while our bodies bow To do his wishes. Let us yield our wills To save our lives, and feign that we are dead. Enter — Left — Waloon and a Maid.

Wapella. Sh — sh

Waloon {to the Maid).

The foe are fled. Our homes are safe;

{Lightning. She sees Monaska and Wapella.)

Why, who are they? — How beautiful! What

flowers To bloom amid the desert of the storm ! What glow of vigor in their fair, round limbs, Ay, how their colors warm this cold-hued air ! — Can they be wounded? — dead? — Oh, cruel

man, When spirits of the sunlight guise in flesL

And fringe the halo of the sunshine round

them, Have we so much to cheer us on the earth, We can afford destruction to the frames That form fit settings of a light so dear? —

Nay, I

{She approaclies, bends, and studies them.)

They both are breathing still ! — But look

{Lightning.) This garb? — Why, they will kill us yet unless

{She lifts a spear that she holds in her hand, then

drops it.)

[Who made me heaven's avenging messenger?

Or bade me cull for those high gardeners there

What grow in nights of earth to greet their

dawn ?

I should not know them foes but for their

guise.

And what is all their alien flesh but guise A little nearer to their souls? It gone, What would they be but spirits, freed from

space, — From all the need of trampling others down To find a place to stand in for themselves? — The two here must be wounded. — Say, good friends — ]

{They start up. She draws hack.) Exit — Left — the AIaid as if frightened.

Wait, wait! — A maid like me would do no harm. —

{As they sit still and look at her.) You — you are wounded?

MoNASKA. Not to death. — And you? —

Why do you stand there, and not hurl the

dart?

It would be sweet, if when one came to die. His last sigh could breathe forth toward one like you.

Waloox. I kill you?— What?

MoNASKA. And why, pray, should you not? Waloon. I am a woman! {The storm ceases; ajtdfrom this time on the forest

grows gradually brighter.) MoNASKA. And a woman's aim

Knows how to reach the heart. We should

escape The bungling work of men.

{opening his breast.)

My heart — take aim — Is open to you. Oh, how it will thrill To feel it gets what you would giye ! Waloon. No, no;

You seem too strong and fair for earth to lose. Some one, with you, would find it full of light. jMonaska. But we are foes.

Waloon. To me you seem like friends.

MoNASKA. But to your brothers?

Waloon. There are those they spare.

MoNASKA. At your wish ?

Waloon. I can plead.

MoNASKA. From such lips pleas,

Like fragrance from the flowers upon a shrine, Might bring an answer. I will trust in you. (MoNASKA and Wapella begin to rise.) Enter — Left — Hatjo and Kootha with his Companion .

Waloon. Nay, nay, lie still. Wait, till I

speak to them. {referring to Haijo and Kootha, and moving toward them and addressing them.) Here lie some wounded warriors. Kootha. Foes?

Vv^aloon. They are.

Kootha. I hope then you have cured them of

their wounds!

Waloon. How so?

Kootha {lifting his spear).

How so ? — There is but one sure cure. — Ope wide the casket that the world has bruised And let the unbruised soul fly out of it. {makes as if he would move toward Monaska.) Waloon {lifting her hands, and moving forward as if to shield Monaska).

No, no; not that; no! — They are beautiful. Kootha. Then send them upward while they are so. Why

Outlive the happy moment for one's death !

A body maimed may mold a spirit maimed.

Waloon. Their wounds are not so bad as that.

KooTHA. Or good.

(Waloon looks at him in a puzzled way.)

I mean it — good. I mean it. Let me see

them.

(Waloon gestures toward them and looks toward

Haijo.) [Haijo {to Waloon, as he looks toward the prisoners) .

You call them beautiful? When you have

seen As much of men as I, you will think more Of greater spirits with their lives enshrined In mountain, valley, forest, bush, and flower Than of these little spirits framed in flesh. Waloon. A great priest, you, and I a little

maid.

Haijo. And for our little maidens men like these Are sent at times on little missions to us.] KooTHA {waving his spear).

Sire, pin them down where they shall kneel

before us And keep on kneeling till their life is through. Haijo. No, no! — but I wait here, and you go back And tell them at the temple why I do so.

KooTHA {to his Companion as he moves toward the left).

Oh, heaven, I thought to help them! — but

too late !

Exit — Left — KooTHA and his Companion. Haijo {to Waloon).

You wish to save them, eh? — One way is

Waloon {eagerly). What?

Haijo. Why, make the king adopt them. This, you know, Is often done. Then they will be our own; As much so as if born here. Can you think Of anything he would not do for you? — The trouble is, I hear, that there are things You would not do for him, ha, ha, ha, ha! Oh, no offense! You know you are my

ward.

For one, I ward you from his majesty. Suppose you go, and tell your tale to him — The beauty of the prisoners, and your wish. I think that he would grant it. Waloon. Free them wholly?

Haijo. Why, you can ask and learn. Should he refuse, They would be no more sure to die than now. (Haijo waves his hand.) Enter — from both Right and Left — Guards with spears, and stand watching Monaska and Wapella.

Waloon. First I will tell them why I go away —

And you will guard them here?

Haijo. As if the king

Himself had ordered it. {to a Chief of the Guards as Waloon walks toward MoNASKA and Wapella who rise to receive her) The girl is right. She knows what beauty is — just what we need ! And not another fair-formed captive left us ! The king will save them, not a doubt of

that.

We never found a pair of fairer gods. Waloon {to Monaska.)

I go to ask our king here to adopt you.

{pointing to Haijo) This guardian of all our sacred things Will guard you sacredly till I return. Haijo {to Monaska and Wapella).

Unless you m.ean to fly. Try that ; no more Could you escape our warriors' darts, than

dodge The shadows of the trees through which you flew.

Exit — Left — Waloon.

Monaska {to Haijo).

You seem a prophet, sire?

Haijo. They hold me such.

Monaska (holding out his hand). And you could read my fate?

Haijo. Not difficult.

{plucking a twig from a tree) The tree's full growth is here, could one unfold

it.

Your future is the fruit of present dreams, The lure that leads the deepest wish within

you, The goal that lights the farthest path of hope. {taking MoNASKA by the hand, then dropping it) A touch that feels the start can point the finish.

MoNASKA. You think so?

Haijo. There is nothing stops the flow

Of thought betwixt my fingers and my brain, Betwixt 3^our fingers and your brain; not so? — {takifig him by the hand again) Now join these — what cuts off your brain from mine?

MoNASKA. Our wills.

Haijo. Yet if I yield my will to yours

MoNASKA. But can you?

Haijo. And if not, what boots the priest

His years of fasting and of discipline? — Besides, all lives are much alike. MoNASKA. They are? —

[How so?

Haijo. All thorns or roses, if you please,

Grown on the self -same bush.

MoNASKA. Do all lives grow-

Both thorns and roses?

Haijo. Yes; we show the thorns

To those who try to pluck us for themselves ; The roses to the ones that let us be. MoNASKA. And so you think all lives alike? Haijo. Allied.]

All lives are summers, veiled at either end In shadows of the spring and autumn storms. We pass from tears of birth to burial; And in the brief, bright interval between There comes anon the fevered flush of life, Then paleness, then the fevered flush of

death.

Men leap and laugh, and then lie back and

cough.

Both but hysterical, betwixt the tw^o, Warring for power that more of war must

keep, Pushing for place that prisons those w^ho seize

it, Kneeling for love to tramp on when they

get it.

Their little rest is large-brought weariness. And what they wish for most is mainly death.

MoNASKA. A cheerful view!

Haijo. It was not volunteered.

[MoNASKA. My fate seems dark then? Haijo. Brilliant.

MoNASKA. Brilliant?

Haijo. Yes,

A'loNASKA. A fire is brilliant, yet it burns

us up.

Haijo. In time.

MoNASKA. Yet all life is a thing of time.

Haijo. You hunger for excitement, man. You

hail The trump of war, the tramp of onset, all That sweeps 3^ou on where drafts of life and

love Fan up the flames that flicker in the breast And set the whole form's trembling veins

aglow.

MoNASKA. You read me well.

Haijo. Suppose this heart a toy

Wound up to run through just so many

ticks

MoNASKA. I see, you mean a fast life is a short

life.

Haijo. The fleetest foot is first beside the goal. MoNASKA. But if the goal be high as well as

far

Haijo. The bird of fleetest wing may fly the

highest.

MoNASKA. It may! — A chance that I could

risk! — If not,

More blest the short-lived moths that fly to flame

Straight through a pathway lit by coming light

Than long-lived worms that crawl through endless mire.

Haijo. Yours will be lit by coming light. MoNASKA. And I,]

I shall not lose my life?

Haijo. In every life,

The first and final acts are tragedy.

Monaska. But ere the final act ?

Haijo. The whole you wish

Will come.

Monaska. All ?

Haijo. All.

Monaska. But I am not unselfish.

Haijo. You need not be — where all will rush

to serve you.

Monaska. And I am vain.

Haijo. None will be clothed more richly. Monaska. And I have tastes.

Haijo. Each meal will be a feast.

Monaska. I would not slave it to these lower aims.

I have ambition.

Haijo. None will rank above you.

Monaska. None?

Haijo. I have said it — none.

MoNASKA. That cannot be.

My birth

Haijo. Who knows the place that he was born

To fill?

MoNASKA. High aspirations thrill my soul. Haijo. Have higher still. You will be like a god. {aside, to the Chief of the Guards.) Now will I see if he divine my meaning. MoNASKA. It may be when I die. Haijo {aside to the Chief again) . Is not divined; Or, if it be, in but a slight degree.

{to MONASKA.)

No; you mistook my thought. I spoke of earth.

MoNASKA. Of earth? — You know, sire, I can tell it you — You know about the weaknesses of youth?

Haijo. Yes, you can tell me all.

MoNASKA. I am not one

Has lived or worked with other men. My soul Has dwelt alone, and sails the waves of life Like some stray oil-drop lost upon the sea, Refusing still, however wildly tossing, To lose or fuse itself in things about it. I have so craved a mate! but, whoso came, The spirit that is in me would deny My clasping to a heart that might not beat

In time to pulses of another's purpose.

So what I would caress, I dared not touch,

For fear the rhythm throbbing in my veins

Would prove discordant and reveal us foes.

Haijo. Ah! love you wish?

MoNASKA. Ay, sire, I would be loved.

Haijo. You think that strange at your age,

strange ?

MoNASKA. Not strange the w^ish — but could it

be fulfilled

Haijo. I said it should be. You shall be so loved That you will yearn for rivals more than see them. [MoNASKA. Will yearn — but how can this be

true? You jest.

Haijo. Is it my face or robe you deem a jester's ? MoNASKA. You mean it ?

Haijo. It is in your hand, your face.

I told you I had had experience. Why do you doubt?

MoNASKA. Because life never brought

Aught like it.

Haijo. Life brings day as well as night.

When day, the wise will use the sunshine.] MoNASKA {looking at Wapella, who has been watching them eagerly, and now rises).

Come And tell his fortune too.

Wapella. Yes, mine.

Enter — Left — Waloon and the King. Haijo. The King.

{All how. The King speaks aside to Haijo.)

The King desires that you retire, you three. {motioningto Monaska, Wapella, and Waloon.) Exeunt — Right — Monaska, Wapella, and Waloon, accompanied hy some of the Guards. King {to Haijo.) What think you? Haijo. Just what she has told you, sire.

No doubt, about the beauty of the men. King. Nor of her love?

Haijo. It seems to augur well.

King. I feel not sure about your method. Haijo. No?—

In lands like ours, a land controlled by law,

Illegal force will rouse the people's wrath.

But let her love the one we make a god,

And wed his ghost, and dwell within the temple ;

There he who is the head of our religion

Can rightly represent the god, — not so ? King. I see — a portion of the heaven of which

The priesthood holds the key, is on the earth. Haijo {suddenly turning the subject).

Sire, we must have some foe to sacrifice.

For this year

King. You will furnish one insured

To break this maiden's heart.

Haito. a colt once broke

Drives easily.

King. Let me not doubt again

What power incarnates Providence on earth. Lead out this coming god.

Haijo {looking toward the Right).

Waloon, the King Desires to see the prisoners. 'Enter — Right — Waloon, Monaska, Wapella,

and Guards.

King {to Haijo, as he looks at Monaska).

Yes, yes, He is a fine one, no mistake ! Poor girl ! — But what were life without its discipline? And what are kings and priests for but to give it ? No fetes are feasts with every course alike; And all fare better who begin with bitters.

{to Monaska and Wapella.) Young men, your warriors came a long, hard

way To fight with us. They should have stayed at home.

Monaska. Our king, sire, sent them forth. King. Good ! We shall keep

Their flesh to fertilize our fields, and see That he has less to send the next time. Ha ! {The Guards, at a sign from the King, draw their hows on Monaska and Wapella.) Waloon, stand back, there, from the prisoners.

Waloon {to the King).

Ah, but you will not kill them, will you, sire? King. Why not? — They would kill us. We only do What they would do.

MoNASKA {aiming his bow).

Perhaps, when this has gone

Through you, and through your pals too

Waloon {hurrying between the King and Mon- ASKA, and speaking to Monaska). Wait. MoNASKA {bowing to Waloon). For you.

Waloon {to the King).

Ah, sire, was it for this I urged them not To fly from here? — You surely will adopt them?

King. And you would save my life and save his too? {To Monaska.) We both owe something to her love, you see. Monaska {to the King) .

I read my pardon in your own face now. King. I feel no pity, and no love for you. If you are saved here, she alone has done it. Thank her.

Monaska {kneeling to her).

I will, as I would thank an angel. King {to Haijo, aside).

You see — we made no promises. Keep watch And never let them be alone together. Curtain.