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PRISCILLA. Short-waisted dress, with tabs at belt, and full straight, short skirt, long pointed collar and cuffs. Carefully plaited apron. Cap. Low, open-sided shoes.

INDIAN. Long leggins and breech-cloth. Cloak of deer-skin. Moccasins.

ELDER. Long, straight, full black gown, with clerical tie or ruff. Black skull-cap.

MESSENGER. Like Alden's, but simpler.


SCENE I. Miles sends John to Priscilla. Scene : A room in Standish's house, with window and exit.

Properties : Arms, bright and clean, hanging on the wall, including a Damascus sword and a steel breast-plate. (Other arms referred to in lines 7-10 will be appropriate, but not necessary.) Book-shelf on the wall, containing a few large and well-worn books; pine table; paper, ink-horn, quills; a small bouquet of Mayflowers on table; two or more chairs.

SCENE II. John delivers Miles's message to Priscilla. Scene: Room in Priscilla's house, with window and exit.

Properties : Two or more chairs ; spinning-wheel ; carded snowwhite wool; psalm-book. SCENE III. John brings Priscilla's answer back to Miles; a

Messenger summons Miles.
Scene : Same as in Scene I.

Properties : Same as in Scene I., omitting the bunch of May. flowers.

SCENE IV. Miles, Elder, Indian, middle-aged men assembled in


Scene : Roughly furnished Puritan-like room, with chairs and tables.

Properties: Rattlesnake skin "filled like a quiver with arrows."
Powder and bullets.
SCENE V. John in trouble and doubt. Conversation between

John and Priscilla.
Scene: Out of doors.

SCENE VI. John and Priscilla interrupted by Messenger. Scene : Same as in Scene II.

Properties : Same as in Scene II. and snowy skein of yarn. SCENE VII. John, Priscilla, Elder, Friends. Wedding inter

rupted by Miles.
Scene : Room in Puritan dwelling.

[Where elaborateness of detail is not required two folding screens may be used to form a scene. A good imitation of a window may be made by painting black lines, to represent sash and casing, on a piece of sky-blue cloth. Costumes can be readily improvised where it is not possible to obtain them as described on pages 5 and 6. John Alden may wear the same suit in all the scenes, if necessary.]

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Such portions of the Poem as throw light on the surroundings and feelings of the actors have been inserted in brackets and printed in smaller type.

SCENE I. Standish's House. [In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pil

grims, To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling, Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather, Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Cap

tain. Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and

pausing Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare, Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damas

cus, Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic

sentence, While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket,

and matchlock. Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic, Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sin

ews of iron; Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in Novem

ber. Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household

companion, Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window; Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,

Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the

captives Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, “Not Angles, but

Angels.” Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the May

flower. Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupt

ing, Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish, the Captain

of Plymouth.]

(Curtain Rises.)


Look at these arms, my friend, the warlike weapons that

hang here Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or in

spection ! This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flan

ders; this breastplate, Well I remember the day! once saved my life in a skir

mish; Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero. Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of

Miles Standish Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the

Flemish morasses.

[Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from

his writing:]


Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed

of the bullet; He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our

weapon! [Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the


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