The Bride of Quietness and Other Plays

The Bride of Quietness and Other Plays

Oscar W. Firkins
Copyright Date: 1932
Edition: NED - New edition
Pages: 250
https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5749/j.ctttt4px
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    The Bride of Quietness and Other Plays
    Book Description:

    The Bride of Quietness and Other Plays was first published in 1932. Minnesota Archive Editions uses digital technology to make long-unavailable books once again accessible, and are published unaltered from the original University of Minnesota Press editions. Oscar Firkins’ books, posthumously published, are finding what the author, during his reclusive life, never looked for – popularity, that wide appeal which is evinced in the demand for a second edition of this book of plays and the friendly reception that has resulted in putting both his plays and the more recently published Memoirs and Letters on “bestseller” lists. John Keats, in a London twilight finds himself one wit the immortal figures of his Ode on a Grecian Urn. That timelessness of beauty to which he gave serene expression in his famous ode is the theme of The Bride of Quietness, the title play of this volume. The romantically wedded Brownings of Turnpikes in Arcady discover, under the spell of an Italian night, that they are not at all the “practical” persons they have supposed themselves to be. Charlotte, Emily, and the other enigmatic Brontës are vividly revealed in the brief, incisive lines of Empurpled Moors. A sprightly Restoration atmosphere pervades The King’s Vigil, in which Samuel Pepys and Charles II spend a night cloistered behind a massive oak door in hiding from importunate wives and mistresses.

    eISBN: 978-1-4529-3777-9
    Subjects: Language & Literature

Table of Contents

  1. Front Matter
    (pp. i-vi)
  2. Table of Contents
    (pp. vii-4)
  3. THE BRIDE OF QUIETNESS
    (pp. 5-64)

    The pipe! The timbrel!

    Do not drop your arm.

    The town goes fieldward. I must join the town.

    Leave towns to—townsfolk. (He comes to her, and rearranges her pose, not heeding her protests.)

    (stamping her little foot).

    You shall let me go.

    What seeks the village in the fields today?

    They sacrifice a heifer to the gods. (Music again.)

    There will be dance and feasting. Let me go. (She again tries to free herself, but Philotas, with a gentle obstinacy, persists in his rearrangements of her pose.)

    You are so rough, Philotas—care for naught But what your hands...

  4. TURNPIKES IN ARCADY
    (pp. 65-122)

    ELIZABETH. I am sure, after all, that I am practical.

    ROBERT. You shall be what you please, Ba. You shall be six feet tall, if you like.

    ELIZABETH (looking at her feet). That would leave no room for Flush on the sofa — it would be unpractical. No, dearest, on the whole, I will not be six feet tall, unless you insist on it.

    ROBERT. I? Not at all. You’re easier to carry upstairs as you are.

    ELIZABETH. Ah, those stairs! (Remorsefully.)And I let you do it!

    ROBERT. There should have been three flights.

    ELIZABETH. When you say foolish...

  5. EMPURPLED MOORS
    (pp. 123-156)

    ANNE. I didn’t tell Emily quite everything, Charlotte.

    CHARLOTTE. There’s always a last, little thing that one doesn’t tell Emily. I’ve found that out myself.

    ANNE. Emily understands a great deal.

    CHARLOTTE. A very great deal. But — (she makes an emphatic gesture) — when her understanding stops, it stops altogether.

    ANNE (abstractedly). Yes.

    CHARLOTTE. What one doesn’t tell Emily is always the most interesting thing. You shall tell that to me now.

    ANNE (with effort). It’s not soveryeasy to tell you.

    CHARLOTTE (seating herself at Anne’s right). Tomorrow, then.

    ANNE (trembling, but resolute). I daren’t put it...

  6. THE KING’S VIGIL
    (pp. 157-242)

    SUSAN. Master has come, ma’am.

    MRS. PEPYS (very calm, and, as it were, piously grateful for the unexpected). He has come? Put on the dinner, Susan.

    SUSAN. Yes, ma’am. (She goes out right. Pepys, in business suit, but otherwise punctiliously groomed, enters from rear center. He is full of imperfectly repressed self-satisfaction.)

    MRS. PEPYS (rising with an elaborate courtesy). Mr. Pepys, I think.

    PEPYS (ignoring this demonstration, and taking his wife in his arms). I am here, wife, God be thanked.

    MRS. PEPYS (submitting to the caress, but freeing herself quickly). If you are here, it is God and not...