



Produced by David Garcia, David E. Brown and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)









A NIGHT IN AVIGNON




  A NIGHT IN AVIGNON

  BY
  CALE YOUNG RICE

  Author of "Charles Di Tocca," "David,"
  "Plays and Lyrics," etc.

  NEW YORK
  DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
  MCMXIII


  _Copyright, 1907, by_
  CALE YOUNG RICE

  Published, March, 1907




  TO
  DONALD ROBERTSON




A NIGHT IN AVIGNON




CHARACTERS


  FRANCESCO PETRARCA      _A Young Poet and Scholar_

  GHERARDO                _His Brother, a Monk_

  LELLO                   _His Friend_

  ORSO                    _His Servant_

  FILIPPA  }
           }              _Ladies of light life in Avignon_
  SANCIA   }

  MADONNA LAURA




A NIGHT IN AVIGNON

SCENE: _A room in the chambers of PETRARCA at Avignon. It opens on a
loggia overlooking, on higher ground, the spired church of Santa Clara
and the gray cloisters of a Carthusian monastery. Beyond lie the city
walls under glamour of the blue Provencal night._

_The room, faintly frescoed, is lighted with many candles; some
glittering on a wine-table heavy with wines toward the right front. A
door on the left leads to other rooms, and an arrased one opposite,
down to the street. Bookshelves and a writing-desk strewn with a lute
and writings are also on the left; a crimson couch is in the centre; and
garlands of myrtle and laurel deck the wine-table._

_GHERARDO, the monk, is seated by the desk, following with severe looks
the steps of PETRARCA, who is walking feverishly to and fro._


_Gherardo_ (_after a pause_). Listen. Another word, Francesco.

_Petrarca._                       Aih!
  And then another--that will breed another.

_Gherardo._ Dote on this Laura still--if still you must:
  Woman's your destiny.
  But quench these lights and set away that wine.

_Petrarca._ And to no other lips turn? hers denied me?
  Never, Gherardo!

_Gherardo._        Virtue bids you.

_Petrarca._                         Vainly!
  I've borne until I will not ... For it is
  Two years now since in the aisles
  Of Santa Clara yonder my heart first
  Went from me on mad wings.
  Two years this April morning
  Since it fell fluttering before her feet ...
  As she stood there beside our blessed Lady,
  Gowned as young Spring in green and violets!...

_Gherardo._ And these two years have been inviolate;
  Your life as pure as hers,
  As virgin--
  Save for the songs you've sung to her; those songs
  This idle city echoes with. But now----

_Petrarca._ Now I will open all the gates to Pleasure!
  To rosy Pleasure--warm, unspiritual,
  Ready to spring
  Into the arms of all
  Whom bloodless Virtue pales.
  For, of restraint and hoping, I have drunk
  But a vintage of tears!
  And what has been my gain?

_Gherardo._                  Her chastity.

_Petrarca._ A chastity unchallenged of desire--
  And therefore none!
  Aih, none!
  For, were it other;
  Could I aver that once, that ever once
  Her lids had fallen low in fear of love,
  I'd bid the desert of my heart burn dry--
  To the last oasis--
  With resignation!
  But never have they, never! and I'm mad.

    (_Pours out wine._)

_Gherardo._ And you will seek to cure it with more madness?
  To cast the devil of love out of your veins
  With other love and lower!

_Petrarca._                  Yes, yes, yes! (_drinks._)
  With little Sancia's!
  Whose soul is a sweet sin!
  Who lives but for this life and asks of Death
  Only a breath of time before he ends it,
  To tell three beads and fill her mouth with _aves_.
  Just for enough, she says,
  "To tell God that He made me"--as He did.

_Gherardo._ And to blaspheme with! O obsessed man.

    (_Has risen, flushed._)

  But you will fail! For this vain revelry
  Will ease not. And I see all love is base--
  As say the Fathers--
  All!... and the body of woman
  Is vile from the beginning.

_Petrarca._                   Monkish lies!

    (_Drinks again for courage._)

  The body of woman's born of bliss and beauty.
  Only one thing is fairer--that's her soul.

_Gherardo._ And is that Word which says thou shalt not look
  Upon another's wife a monkish lie?

    (_Silence._)

  Your Laura is another's.

_Petrarca_ (_torn_).       As I found!
  After my heart became a poison flame--
  Within me!
  A fierce inquisitor against my peace!
  After I followed her from Santa Clara,
  That mass-hour,
  To an escutcheoned door!
  After and not before ... And such another's!
  Ugo di Sade's!
  A beast whose sullen mind two thoughts would drain;
  Whose breath is a poltroon's;
  Who is unkind.... I've seen her weep; who loves
  Her not.... And yet the fane of song I frame her,
  The love I burn on it, she laughs away.
  To hide her own?... I will not so believe.

_Gherardo._ Nor should you.

_Petrarca._                  Yet you bid me quarry still
  The deeps of me to shrine her?
  And be Avignon's laughter?
  A mock, a titter on the tongue of geese
  That gad the city gates?
  A type of fools that sigh while others kiss?
  "Francesco Petrarca!
  Who never clasped his mistress--but in a sonnet!
  Who fills empty canzone with his passion--
  But never her ears!
  Never!--though she was wed against her will
  To an unlettered boor out bartering--
  One whom she well could leave!"...
  I'll not, Gherardo!... Sonnets?

    (_Tears several from desk._)

  Vain, all!...

    (_Casts them away._)

  But Lello comes! and brings me Sancia!
  Filippa! merry Filippa and Sancia!
  We'll drink!--wine of Rocella!
  Wine of the Rhine! Bielna! San Porciano!--
  And kiss!

    (_Throws back his head._)

  Kiss with the lips of life and not of ...

    (_A knell has begun to beat from the church without. He hears it,
      and, awed, sinks, crossing himself, to the couch._)

    (_GHERARDO, exalted, shudders._)

_Gherardo._ It is the knell of Matteo Banista,
  Whose soul is gone for its licentious days
  Upon steep purgatory.

    (_Prepares to go._)

  Your sin be on you ... and it will.

_Petrarca_ (_fearful_).              No!... no!

    (_Starts up._)

  But hear, Gherardo, hear!

    (_His words come stifled._)

  There in the cloister have you peace--in prayer?
  In visions--penances?...
  Swear that you have! swear to me! once!... but once!
  And I...! ...
  No, never!... never!

    (_He wipes his brow._)

  While we are in the world the world's in us.
  The Holy Church I own--
  Confess her Heaven's queen;
  But we are flesh and all things that are fair
  God made us to enjoy--
  Or, high in Paradise, we'll know but sorrow.
  You though would ban earth's beauty,
  Even the torch of Glory
  That kindled Italy once and led great Greece--
  The torch of Plato, Homer, Virgil, all
  The sacred bards and sages, pagan-born!
  I love them! they are divine!
  And so to-night...! ...

    (_Voices._)

  They! it is Lello! Lello! Sancia!----

    (_Hears a lute and laughter below, then a call, "Sing, Sancia";
      then SANCIA singing:_)

  To the maids of Saint Remy
    All the gallants go for pleasure;
  To the maids of Saint Remy--
    Tripping to love's measure!
  To the dames of Avignon
    All the masters go for wiving;
  To the dames of Avignon--
    That shall be their shriving!

    (_He goes to the Loggia as they gayly applaud. Then LELLO cries:_)

_Lello._ Ho-ho! Petrarca! Pagan! are you in?
  What! are you sonnet-monger?

_Petrarca._                   Ai, ai, aih!

    (_Motions GHERARDO--who goes._)

_Lello._ Come then! Your door is locked! down! let us in!

    (_Rattles it._)

_Petrarca._ No, ribald! hold! the key is on the sill!
  Look for it and ascend!

    (_ORSO enters._)

  Stay, here is Orso!

    (_The old servant goes through and down the stairs to meet them. In
      a moment the tramp of feet is heard and they enter--LELLO between
      them--singing:_)

  Guelph! Guelph! and Ghibbeline!
  Ehyo! ninni! onni! [=o]nz!
  I went fishing on All Saints' Day
  And--caught but human bones!

  I went fishing on All Saints' Day.
  The Rhone ran swift, the wind blew black!
  I went fishing on All Saints' Day--
  But my love called me back!

  She called me back and she kissed my lips--
  Oh, my lips! Oh, onni! [=o]nz!
  "Better take life than death," said she,
  Better take love than--bones! bones!

    (_SANCIA kisses PETRARCA._)

  "Better take love than bones."

    (_They scatter with glee and PETRARCA seizes SANCIA to him._)

_Petrarca._ Yes, little Sancia! and you, my friends!
  Warm love is better, better!
  And braver! Come, Lello! give me your hand!
  And you, Filippa! No, I'll have your lips!

_Sancia_ (_interposing_). Or--less? One at a time, Messer Petrarca!
  You learn too fast. Mine only for to-night.

_Petrarca._ And for a thousand nights, Sancia fair!

_Sancia._ You hear him? Santa Madonna! pour us wine,
  To pledge him in!

_Petrarca._        The tankards bubble o'er!

    (_They go to the table._)

  And see, they are wreathed of April,
  With loving myrtle and laurel intertwined.
  We'll hold symposium, as bacchanals!

_Sancia._ And that is--what? some dull and silly show
  Out of your sallow books?

_Petrarca._                Those books were writ
  With ink of the gods, my Sancia, upon
  Papyri of the stars!

_Sancia._             And--long ago?
  Ha! long ago?

_Petrarca._    Returnless centuries!

_Sancia_ (_contemptuously_). Who loves the past, loves mummies and
    their dust--
  And he will mould!
  Who loves the future loves what may not be,
  And feeds on fear.
  Only one flower has Time--its name is Now!
  Come, pluck it! pluck it!

_Lello._                   _Brava_, maid! the Now!

_Sancia_ (_dancing_). Come, pluck it! pluck it!

_Petrarca._                                     By my soul, I will!

    (_Seizes her again._)

  It grows upon these lips--and if to-night
  They leant out over the brink of Hell, I would.

    (_She breaks from him._)

_Filippa._ Enough! the wine! the wine!

_Sancia._                              O ever-thirsty
  And ever-thrifty Pippa! Well, pour out!

    (_She lifts a brimming cup._)

  We'll drink to Messer Petrarca--
  Who's weary of his bed-mate, Solitude.
  May he long revel in the courts of Venus!

_All_ (_drinking_). Aih, long!

_Petrarca._ As long as Sancia enchants them!

_Filippa._ I'd trust him not, Sancia. Put him to oath.

_Sancia._ And, to the rack, if faithless? This Filippa!
  Messer Petrarca, should she not be made
  High Jurisconsult to our lord, the Devil,
  Whose breath of life is oaths?...
  But, swear it! ... by the Saints!
  Who were great sinners all!
  And by the bones of every monk or nun
  Who ever darkened the world!

_Lello._                      Or ever shall!

    (_A pause._)

_Petrarca._ I'll swear your eyes are singing
  Under the shadow of your hair, mad Sancia,
  Like nightingales in the wood.

_Sancia._                       Pah! Messer Poet ...
  Such words as those you vent without an end--
  To the Lady Laura!

_Petrarca._ Stop!

    (_Grows pale._)

  Not _her_ name--here!

    (_All have sat down; he rises._)

_Sancia._ O-ho! this air will soil it? and it might
  Not sound so sweet in sonnets ever after?

    (_To the rest--rising:_)

  Shall we depart, that he may still indite them?
  "To Laura--On the Vanity of Passion"?
  "To Laura--Unrelenting"?
  "To Laura--Whose Departing Darkens the Sky"?

    (_Laughs._)

  "To Laura--Who Deigns Not a Single Tear"?

    (_ORSO enters._)

  Shall we depart?

_Lello._          Peace! Sancia.

_Sancia._                       Ah-ha!

    (_Moves away._)

_Petrarca_ (_still tensely--to ORSO_). Speak.

_Orso._                            Sir, you are desired.

_Petrarca._                                             By whom?

_Orso._                                                         Her veil
  Was lifted and she told me:
  Therefore I say it out--Madonna Laura.

    (_All stare, amazed. Silence._)

_Petrarca_ (_hoarsely_). What lie is this!

_Orso._                                   I am too old to lie.

_Sancia_ (_laughing_). Who was the goddess that his books tell of,
  The cold one so long chaste, but who at last----

_Lello._ Be silent, Sancia! Francesco ... what?

_Petrarca_ (_to ORSO_). Lead Monna Laura here--

    (_ORSO goes._)

  If it is she!...
  But you, my friends, must know how strange this is,
  And how--!... I have no words!...
  Wait me, I pray you, yonder, in that chamber.

    (_They go, left, SANCIA shrugging. Then ORSO brings LAURA, whom
      PETRARCA is helpless to greet, and who falters--yet nobly
      determining, comes down._)

_Laura._ Messer Petrarca, ... I have been impelled
  To come ... and as the purest should, boldly,
  With lifted veil, to say ...

_Petrarca._                   Lady!

_Laura._                           To say--
  (Of gratitude I cannot give another ...
  For life to a woman is but resignation,
  And that at last is shame) ...

_Petrarca._                     At last ... shame----

_Laura._ To say--Love is to us as light to the lilies
  That lean by Mont Ventoux.
  The love of one pure man for one pure woman.

_Petrarca_ (_dazed_). Lady!...

_Laura._                      Yes, and--I've been unkind to you.
  Ungentle ever.

    (_Shakes her head._)

  But there's no other way sometimes for those
  Who would be wholly true.
  And yet ... do I owe _any_ truth to _him_?

_Petrarca._ To--Ugo di Sade?

_Laura_ (_bitterly_). Who is called my husband?
  How I was bound to him, you know! and how
  I've dwelt and have endured more than his bursts
  Of burning cruelty. For still, I thought,
  He is my husband!
  And still--He is my husband!...
  But now no more I think it--oh! no more!
  Too visible it is
  That he belongs to any--who sell love.
  So I may innocently say to you
  Who for two years have sung my name
  Yet never once have turned unto another--

    (_PETRARCA pales._)

  I well may say ...

    (_Stopped by his manner._)

  There's something that you ... Ah!

    (_Sees, stricken, his grief and shame. Then her glance goes round
      the room and falls on the wine-table ... Then SANCIA is heard
      within:_)

_Sancia._ Well, well, Messer Petrarca! How long will
  You shut us in this dark--that is as black
  As old Pope John the twenty-second's soul?
  A pretty festa, this!

_Petrarca_ (_brokenly_). Merciless God!

    (_Falls abased before LAURA'S look, tortured with remorse._)

  O lady, what have I done beyond repair!...

    (_She gathers her veil._)

  What have I lost within this gulf of shame!
  For a paltry pleasure have I sold my dream,
  Whose pinions would have lifted you at last?

_Laura_ (_very pale_). I did not know, Messer Petrarca, you
  Had friends awaiting.

    (_Pauses numbly._)

  I came to-night, as first I would have said,
  With holy gratitude--
  For a love I thought you gave.
  With gratitude that honor well could speak,
  I thought, and yet be honor;
  With gratitude forgetful of all else ...
  And trusting ... But no matter:
  All trust shall be embalmed and laid away.
  I go with pity; seeing
  My husband--is even as other men.

    (_She passes to the door and out: PETRARCA moans. Then LELLO enters
      and comes to him anxiously._)

_Lello._ Francesco!

_Petrarca._         Lello!

    (_Dazed._)

  Lello! Have I dreamed?

    (_Rising, with anguish._)

  Did Laura come to me out of the night--
  Come as the first voice breaking beyond death
  To one despairing?
  And was I lifted up to Heaven's dawn?
  And then ...

    (_Reels._)

  God! am I falling...? shall I ever...?
  Down this...? ... My friend stay with me!
  No, go ... and take them with you--Sancia--all!...
  I have slain the Spring forever!
  The green of the whole fair world!... O Laura! Laura!

    (_Sinks down on the couch and buries his face in his arms. LELLO
      goes sorrowfully out._)


THE END.




[Illustration]

THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS
GARDEN CITY, N. Y.




  PORZIA

  By

  CALE YOUNG RICE


  "It presents a last phase of the Renaissance with great effect." _Sir
  Sidney Lee._

  "'Porzia' is a very romantic and beautiful thing. After a third reading
  I enjoy and admire it still more." _Gilbert Murray._

  "There are certain lyrical qualities in the dramas of Cale Young Rice
  and certain dramatic qualities in many of his finest lyrics that make it
  very difficult for the critic to resolve whether he is highest as singer
  or dramatist. 'Porzia' is a poetic play in which these two gifts blend
  with subtle and powerful effectiveness. It is not written in stereotyped
  heroic verse, but in sensitive metrical lines that vary in beat and
  measure with the strength, the tenderness, the anguish, bitterness and
  passion of love or hate they have to express. The bizarre and poignant
  central incident on which the action of 'Porzia' turns is such as would
  have appealed irresistibly to the imagination and dramatic instincts of
  the great Elizabethan dramatists, and Mr. Rice has developed it with a
  force and imaginative beauty that they alone could have equaled and with
  a restraint and delicacy of touch which makes pitiful and beautiful a
  story they would have clothed in horror.... He turns what might have
  been a tragic close to something that is loftier and more moving.... It
  matters little that we hesitate between ranking Mr. Rice highest as
  dramatist or lyrist; what matters is that he has the faculty divine
  beyond any living poet of America; his inspiration is true, and his
  poetry is the real thing." _The London Bookman._

  "'Porzia' has the swift human movement which Mr. Rice puts into his
  dramas, and technique of a very high order.... The dramatic form is the
  most difficult to sustain harmoniously and this Mr. Rice always
  achieves." _The Baltimore News._

  "To the making of 'Porzia' Mr. Rice has summoned all the resources of
  his dramatic skill. On the constructive side it is particularly
  strong.... The opening scene is certainly one of the happiest Mr. Rice
  has written, while the climaxing third act is a brilliant piece of
  character study.... The play is rich in poetry;... in it Mr. Rice has
  scored another success ... in a field where work of permanent value is
  rarely achieved." _Albert S. Henry (The Book News Monthly)._

  "Mr. Rice apes neither the high-flown style of the Elizabethans, nor the
  turgid and cryptic style of Browning.... 'Porzia' should attract the
  praise of all who wish to see real literature written in this country
  again." _The Covington (Ky.) Post._

  "The complete mastery of technique, the dignity and dramatic force of
  the characters, the beauty of the language and clear directness of the
  style together with the vivid imagination needed to portray so
  strikingly the renaissance spirit and atmosphere, make the work one that
  should last." _The Springfield (Mass.) Homestead._

  "It is not unjust to say that Cale Young Rice holds in America the
  position that Stephen Phillips holds in England." _The Scotsman
  (Edinburgh)._

  "Had no other poetic drama than this been written in America, there
  would be hope for the future of poetry on the stage." _John G. Neihardt
  (The Minneapolis Journal)._




  FAR QUESTS

  CALE YOUNG RICE


  "The countrymen of Cale Young Rice apparently regard him as the equal of
  the great American poets of the past. _Far Quests_ is good
  unquestionably. It shows a wide range of thought, and sympathy, and real
  skill in workmanship, while occasionally it rises to heights of
  simplicity and truth, that suggest such inspiration as should mean
  lasting fame."--_The Daily Telegraph (London)._

  "Mr. Rice's lyrics are deeply impressive. A large number are complete
  and full-blooded works of art."--_Prof. Wm. Lyon Phelps (Yale
  University)._

  "_Far Quests_ contains much beautiful work--the work of a real poet in
  imagination and achievement."--_Prof. J. W. Mackail (Oxford
  University)._

  "Mr. Rice is determined to get away from local or national limitations
  and be at whatever cost universal.... These poems are always animated by
  a force and freshness of feeling rare in work of such high
  virtuosity."--_The Scotsman (Edinburgh)._

  "Mr. Cale Young Rice is acknowledged by his countrymen to be one of
  their great poets. There is great charm in his nature songs (of this
  volume) and in his songs of the East. Mr. Rice writes with great
  simplicity and beauty."--_The Sphere (London)._

  "Mr. Rice's forte is poetic drama. Yet in the act of saying this the
  critic is confronted by such poems as _The Mystic_.... These are the
  poems of a thinker, a man of large horizons, an optimist profoundly
  impressed with the pathos of man's quest for happiness in all
  lands."--_The Chicago Record-Herald._

  "Mr. Rice's latest volume shows no diminuition of poetic power.
  Fecundity is a mark of the genuine poet, and a glance through these
  pages will demonstrate how rich Mr. Rice is in vitality and variety of
  thought.... There is too, the unmistakable quality of style. It is
  spontaneous, flexible, and strong with the strength of simplicity--a
  style of rare distinction."--_Albert S. Henry, (The Book News Monthly,
  Philadelphia)._




  THE IMMORTAL LURE

  CALE YOUNG RICE


  It is great art--with great vitality. _James Lane Allen._

  In the midst of the Spring rush there arrives one book for which all
  else is pushed aside.... We have been educated to the belief that a man
  must be long dead before he can be enrolled with the great ones. Let us
  forget this cruel teaching.... This volume contains four poetic dramas
  all different in setting, and all so beautiful that we cannot choose one
  more perfect than another.... Too extravagant praise cannot be given Mr.
  Rice. _The San Francisco Call._

  Four brief dramas, different from Paola & Francesca, but excelling
  it--or any other of Mr. Phillips's work, it is safe to say--in a vivid
  presentment of a supreme moment in the lives of the characters.... They
  form excellent examples of the range of Mr. Rice's genius in this field.
  _The New York Times Review._

  Mr. Rice is quite the most ambitious, and most distinguished of
  contemporary poetic dramatists in America. _The Boston Transcript (W.
  S. Braithwaite.)_

  The vigor and originality of Mr. Rice's work never outweigh that first
  qualification, beauty.... No American writer has so enriched the body of
  our poetic literature in the past few years. _The New Orleans Picayune._

  Mr. Rice is beyond doubt the most distinguished poetic dramatist America
  has yet produced. _The Detroit Free Press._

  That in Cale Young Rice a new American poet of great power and
  originality has arisen cannot be denied. He has somehow discovered the
  secret of the mystery, wonder and spirituality of human existence,
  which has been all but lost in our commercial civilization. May he
  succeed in awakening our people from sordid dreams of gain. _Rochester
  (N. Y.) Post Express._

  No writer in England or America holds himself to higher ideals (than Mr.
  Rice) and everything he does bears the imprint of exquisite taste and
  the finest poetic instinct. _The Portland Oregonian._

  In simplicity of art form and sheer mystery of romanticism these poetic
  dramas embody the new century artistry that is remaking current
  imaginative literature. _The Philadelphia North American._

  Cale Young Rice is justly regarded as the leading master of the
  difficult form of poetic drama. _Portland (Me.) Press._

  Mr. Rice has outlived the prophesy that he would one day rival Stephen
  Phillips in the poetic drama. As dexterous in the mechanism of his art,
  the young American is the Englishman's superior in that unforced quality
  which bespeaks true inspiration, and in a wider variety of manner and
  theme. _San Francisco Chronicle._

  Mr. Rice's work has often been compared to Stephen Phillips's and there
  is great resemblance in their expression of high vision. Mr. Rice's
  technique is sure ... his knowledge of his settings impeccable, and one
  feels sincerely the passion, power and sensuous beauty of the whole.
  "Arduin" (one of the plays) is perfect tragedy; as rounded as a sphere,
  as terrible as death. _Review of Reviews._

  The Immortal Lure is a very beautiful work. _The Springfield (Mass.)
  Republican._

  The action in Mr. Rice's dramas is invariably compact and powerful, his
  writing remarkably forcible and clear, with a rare grasp of form. The
  plays are brief and classic. _Baltimore News._

  These four dramas, each a separate unit perfect in itself and differing
  widely in treatment, are yet vitally related by reason of the one
  central theme, wrought out with rich imagery and with compelling
  dramatic power. _The Louisville Times (U. S.)_

  The literary and poetical merit of these dramas is undeniable, and they
  are charged with the emotional life and human interest that should, but
  do not, always go along with those other high gifts. _The (London)
  Bookman._

  Mr. Rice never [like Stephen Phillips] mistakes strenuous phrase for
  strong thought. He makes his blank verse his servant, and it has the
  stage merit of possessing the freedom of prose while retaining the
  impassioned movement of poetry. _The Glasgow (Scotland) Herald._

  These firm and vivid pieces of work are truly welcome as examples of
  poetic force that succeeds without the help of poetic license. _The
  Literary World (London.)_

  We do not possess a living American poet whose utterance is so clear, so
  felicitous, so free from the inane and meretricious folly of sugared
  lines.... No one has a better understanding of the development of
  dramatic action than Mr. Rice. _The Book News Monthly (Albert S.
  Henry.)_


  COUNTRY LIFE IN AMERICA

  THE WORLD'S WORK

  THE GARDEN MAGAZINE

  DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO., GARDEN CITY, N. Y.




  MANY GODS

  By

  CALE YOUNG RICE


  "These poems are flashingly, glowingly full of the East.... What I am
  sure of in Mr. Rice is that here we have an American poet whom we may
  claim as ours." _The North American Review (William Dean Howells)._

  "Mr. Rice has the gift of leadership ... and he is a force with whom we
  must reckon." _The Boston Transcript._

  ... "We find here a poet who strives to reach the goal which marks the
  best that can be done in poetry." _The Book News Monthly (A. S.
  Henry)._

  "When you hear the pessimists bewailing the good old time when real
  poets were abroad in the land ... do not fail to quote them almost
  anything by Cale Young Rice, a real poet writing to-day.... He has done
  so much splendid work one can scarcely praise him too highly." _The San
  Francisco Call._

  "In 'Many Gods' the scenes are those of the East, and while it is not
  the East of Loti, Arnold or Hearn, it is still a place of brooding,
  majesty, mystery and subtle fascination. There is a temptation to quote
  such verses for their melody, dignity of form, beauty of imagery and
  height of inspiration." _The Chicago Journal._

  "'Love's Cynic' (a long poem in the volume) might be by Browning at his
  best." _Pittsburg Gazette-Times._

  "This is a serious, and from any standpoint, a successful piece of work
  ... in it are poems that will become classic." _Passaic (New Jersey)
  News._

  "Mr. Rice must be hailed as one among living masters of his art, one to
  whom we may look for yet greater things." _Presbyterian Advance._

  "This book is in many respects a remarkable work. The poems are indeed
  poems." _The Nashville Banner._

  "Mr. Rice's poetical plays reach a high level of achievement.... But
  these poems show a higher vision and surer mastery of expression than
  ever before." _The London Bookman._


  _Net, $1.25_ (_postage 12c._)




  NIRVANA DAYS

  Poems by

  CALE YOUNG RICE


  "Mr. Rice has the technical cunning that makes up almost the entire
  equipment of many poets nowadays, but human nature is more to him always
  ... and he has the feeling and imaginative sympathy without which all
  poetry is but an empty and vain thing." _The London Bookman._

  "Mr. Rice's note is a clarion call, and of his two poems, 'The Strong
  Man to His Sires' and 'The Young to the Old,' the former will send a
  thrill to the heart of every man who has the instinct of race in his
  blood, while the latter should be printed above the desk of every minor
  poet and pessimist.... The sonnets of the sequence, 'Quest and
  Requital,' have the elements of great poetry in them." _The Glasgow
  (Scotland) Herald._

  "Mr. Rice's poems are singularly free from affectation, and he seems to
  have written because of the sincere need of expressing something that
  had to take art form." _The Sun (New York)._

  "The ability to write verse that scans is quite common.... But the
  inspired thought behind the lines is a different thing; and it is this
  thought untrammeled--the clear vision searching into the deeps of human
  emotion--which gives the verse of Mr. Rice weight and potency.... In the
  range of his metrical skill he easily stands with the best of living
  craftsmen ... and we have in him ... a poet whose dramas and lyrics will
  endure." _The Book News Monthly (A. S. Henry)._

  "These poems are marked by a breadth of outlook, individuality and
  beauty of thought. The author reveals deep, sincere feeling on topics
  which do not readily lend themselves to artistic expression and which he
  makes eminently worth while." _The Buffalo (N. Y.) Courier._

  "We get throughout the idea of a vast universe and of the soul merging
  itself in the infinite.... The great poem of the volume, however, is
  'The Strong Man to His Sires.'" _The Louisville Post (Margaret S.
  Anderson)._

  "The poems possess much music ... and even in the height of intensified
  feeling the clearness of Mr. Rice's ideas is not dimmed by the obscure
  haze that too often goes with the divine fire." _The Boston Globe._


  _Paper boards. Net, $1.25_ (_postage 12c._)




  A NIGHT IN AVIGNON

  By

  CALE YOUNG RICE

  _Successfully produced by Donald Robertson_


  "It is as vivid as a Page From Browning. Mr. Rice has the dramatic
  pulse." _James Huneker._

  "It embraces in small compass all the essentials of the drama." _New
  York Saturday Times Review (Jessie B. Rittenhouse)._

  "It presents one of the most striking situations in dramatic literature
  and its climax could not be improved." _The San Francisco Call._

  "It has undeniable power, and is a very decided poetic achievement."
  _The Boston Transcript._

  "It leaves an enduring impression of a soul tragedy." _The Churchman._

  "Since the publication of his 'Charles di Tocca' and other dramas, Cale
  Young Rice has justly been regarded as a leading American master of that
  difficult form, and many critics have ranked him above Stephen Phillips,
  at least on the dramatic side of his art. And this judgment is further
  confirmed by 'A Night in Avignon.' It is almost incredible that in less
  than 500 lines Mr. Rice should have been able to create so perfect a
  play with so powerful a dramatic effect." _The Chicago Record-Herald
  (Edwin S. Shuman)._

  "There is poetic richness in this brilliant composition; a beauty of
  sentiment and grace in every line. It is impressive, metrically pleasing
  and dramatically powerful." _The Philadelphia Record._

  "It offers one of the most striking situations in dramatic literature."
  _The Louisville Courier-Journal._

  "The publication of a poetic drama of the quality of Mr. Rice's is an
  important event in the present tendency of American literature. He is a
  leader in this most significant movement, and 'A Night in Avignon' is
  marked, like his other plays, by dramatic directness, high poetic
  fervor, clarity of poetic diction, and felicity of phrasing." _The
  Chicago Journal._

  "It is a dramatically told episode, and the metre is most effectively
  handled, making a welcome change for blank verse, and greatly enhancing
  the interest." _Sydney Lee._

  "Many critics, on hearing Mr. Bryce's prediction that America will one
  day have a poet, would be tempted to remind him of Mr. Rice." _The
  Hartford (Conn.) Courant._


  _Net 50c._ (_postage 5c._)




  YOLANDA OF CYPRUS

  A Poetic Drama by

  CALE YOUNG RICE


  "It has real life and drama, not merely beautiful words, and so differs
  from the great mass of poetic plays." _Prof. Gilbert Murray._

  Minnie Maddern Fisk says: "No one can doubt that it is superior
  poetically and dramatically to Stephen Phillips's work," and that Mr.
  Rice ranks with Mr. Phillips at his best has often been reaffirmed.

  "It is encouraging to the hope of a native drama to know that an
  American has written a play which is at the same time of decided poetic
  merit and of decided dramatic power." _The New York Times._

  "The most remarkable quality of the play is its sustained dramatic
  strength. Poetically it is frequently of great beauty. It is also lofty
  in conception, lucid and felicitous in style, and the dramatic pulse
  throbs in every line." _The Chicago Record-Herald._

  "The characters are drawn with force and the play is dignified and
  powerful," and adds that if it does not succeed on the stage it will be
  "because of its excellence." _The Springfield Republican._

  "Mr. Rice is one of the few present-day poets who have the steadiness
  and weight for a well-sustained drama." _The Louisville Post (Margaret
  Anderson)._

  "It has equal command of imagination, dramatic utterance, picturesque
  effectiveness and metrical harmony." _The London (England) Bookman._

  _T. P.'s Weekly_ says: "It might well stand the difficult test of
  production and will be welcomed by all who care for serious verse."

  _The Glasgow (Scotland) Herald_ says: "Yolanda of Cyprus is finely
  constructed; the irregular blank verse admirably adapted for the
  exigencies of intense emotion; the characters firmly drawn; and the
  climax serves the purpose of good stagecraft and poetic justice."

  "It is well constructed and instinct with dramatic power." _Sydney Lee._

  "It is as readable as a novel." _The Pittsburg Post._

  "Here and there an almost Shakespearean note is struck. In makeup,
  arrangement, and poetic intensity it ranks with Stephen Phillips's
  work." _The Book News Monthly._


  Net, $1.25 (postage 10c.)


  COUNTRY LIFE IN AMERICA

  THE WORLD'S WORK

  THE GARDEN MAGAZINE

  DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO., GARDEN CITY, N. Y.




  DAVID

  A Poetic Drama by

  CALE YOUNG RICE


  "I was greatly impressed with it and derived a sense of personal
  encouragement from the evidence of so fine and lofty a product for the
  stage." _Richard Mansfield._

  "It is a powerful piece of dramatic portraiture in which Cale Young Rice
  has again demonstrated his insight and power. What he did before in
  'Charles di Tocca' he has repeated and improved upon.... Not a few
  instances of his strength might be cited as of almost Shakespearean
  force. Indeed the strictly literary merit of the tragedy is altogether
  extraordinary. It is a contribution to the drama full of charm and
  power." _The Chicago Tribune._

  "From the standpoint of poetry, dignity of conception, spiritual
  elevation and finish and beauty of line, Mr. Rice's 'David' is, perhaps,
  superior to his 'Yolanda of Cyprus,' but the two can scarcely be
  compared." _The New York Times (Jessie B. Rittenhouse)._

  "Never before has the theme received treatment in a manner so worthy of
  it." _The St. Louis Globe-Democrat._

  "It needs but a word, for it has been passed upon and approved by
  critics all over the country." _Book News Monthly._ And again: "But few
  recent writers seem to have found the secret of dramatic blank verse;
  and of that small number, Mr. Rice is, if not first, at least without
  superior."

  "With instinctive dramatic and poetic power, Mr. Rice combines a
  knowledge of the exigencies of the stage." _Harper's Weekly._

  "It is safe to say that were Mr. Rice an Englishman or a Frenchman, his
  reputation as his country's most distinguished poetic dramatist would
  have been assured by a more universal sign of recognition." _The
  Baltimore News (writing of all Mr. Rice's plays)._


  _Net, $1.25_ (_postage 12c._)




  CHARLES DI TOCCA

  By

  CALE YOUNG RICE


  "I take off my hat to Mr. Rice. His play is full of poetry, and the
  pitch and dignity of the whole are remarkable." _James Lane Allen._

  "It is a dramatic poem one reads with a heightened sense of its fine
  quality throughout. It is sincere, strong, finished and noble, and
  sustains its distinction of manner to the end.... The character of
  Helena is not unworthy of any of the great masters of dramatic
  utterance." _The Chicago Tribune._

  "The drama is one of the best of the kind ever written by an American
  author. Its whole tone is masterful, and it must be classed as one of
  the really literary works of the season." (1903). _The Milwaukee
  Sentinel._

  "It shows a remarkable sense of dramatic construction as well as poetic
  power and strong characterization." _James MacArthur, in Harper's
  Weekly._

  "This play has many elements of perfection. Its plot is developed with
  ease and with a large dramatic force; its characters are drawn with
  sympathy and decision; and its thoughts rise to a very real beauty. By
  reason of it the writer has gained an assured place among playwrights
  who seek to give literary as well as dramatic worth to their plays."
  _The Richmond (Va.) News-Leader._

  "The action of the play is admirably compact and coherent, and it
  contains tragic situations which will afford pleasure not only to the
  student, but to the technical reader." _The Nation._

  "It is the most powerful, vital, and truly tragical drama written by an
  American for some years. There is genuine pathos, mighty yet never
  repellent passion, great sincerity and penetration, and great elevation
  and beauty of language." _The Chicago Post._

  "Mr. Rice ranks among America's choicest poets on account of his power
  to turn music into words, his virility, and of the fact that he has
  something of his own to say." _The Boston Globe._

  "The whole play breathes forth the indefinable spirit of the Italian
  renaissance. In poetic style and dramatic treatment it is a work of
  art." _The Baltimore Sun._


  _Paper boards. Net, $1.25_ (_postage, 9c._)




  SONG-SURF

  (Being the Lyrics of Plays and Lyrics) by

  CALE YOUNG RICE


  "Mr. Rice's work betrays wide sympathies with nature and life, and a
  welcome originality of sentiment and metrical harmony." _Sydney Lee._

  "In his lyrics Mr. Rice's imagination works most successfully. He is an
  optimist--and in these days an optimist is irresistible--and he can
  touch delicately things too holy for a rough or violent pathos." _The
  London Star (James Douglas)._

  "Mr. Rice's highest gift is essentially lyrical. His lyrics have a charm
  and grace of melody distinctively their own." _The London Bookman._

  "Mr. Rice is keenly responsive to the loveliness of the outside world,
  and he reveals this beauty in words that sing themselves." _The Boston
  Transcript._

  "Mr. Rice's work is everywhere marked by true imaginative power and
  elevation of feeling." _The Scotsman._

  "Mr. Rice's work would seem to rank with the best of our American poets
  of to-day." _The Atlanta Constitution._

  "Mr. Rice's poems are touched with the magic of the muse. They have
  inspiration, grace and true lyric quality." _The Book News Monthly._

  "Mr. Rice's poetry as a whole is both strongly and delicately spiritual.
  Many of these lyrics have the true romantic mystery and charm.... To
  write thus is no indifferent matter. It indicates not only long work but
  long brooding on the beauty and mystery of life." _The Louisville Post._

  "Mr. Rice is indisputably one of the greatest poets who have lived in
  America.... And some of these (earlier) poems are truly beautiful." _The
  Times-Union (Albany, N. Y.)_


  _Net, $1.25_ (_postage 12c._)




Transcriber's Notes:


  Text in italics is indicated with underscores: _italics_.

  Punctuation has been corrected without note.

  The letter o with a macron on page 17 is indicated by [=o]





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Night in Avignon, by Cale Young Rice

*** 