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KEDDRA

A Play in One Act

HOWARD MUMFORD JONES

MELNAK

JASPER

THE YOUNG PRIEST

THE HAIRY ONE

THE CLUB-FOOTED ONE

THE APE-LIKE ONE

THE BLACK ONE

THE LEAN ONE

THE LIVID ONE

KEDDRA
NAWDIA

No one knows when the blue gods first came to rule in the valley, for the oldest of those living there remembers only that they were fixed and permanent institutions (like the wind and the rains) when he was himself a child. Perhaps, indeed, they have ruled there forever, and their long blue hair has always been like a wild comet floating against the northern sky. Moreover, because their temple is ancient and its pillars time-eaten, there are those who declare that the gods must be at least as old as their dwelling place. Who can dispute with man in such matters? Is he not marvelously subtle and beyond the comprehension of the deities?

The temple of the blue gods lies, as every one knows, on the far outer slope of the mountain scree which bounds the valley. Thence it is that the bronze cymbals of the priesthood ring harshly, and as their sound crumbles slowly into silence, the inhabitants lift up their eyes for a moment to the sullen walls of the temple above. Thence, too, float whispers of mysterious sacrifices to terrify the shepherds of the plain. And thence, at irregular intervals, the gazer from the valley sees the priests in

their yellow robes passing against the sky, ominous and lonely, bound on strange errands and coming to stranger ends. But the priests have not passed against the skyline of late, and if the gongs of the temple have sounded, they have been sharp and menacing. Wild rumors have startled the dwellers in the valley, and caused them to snatch fearful glances, first at the temple and then at the growing darkness of the northern sky. And in the temple of the blue gods the time-eaten pillars have shivered twice, and the uneasy priests have cursed, and then looked wanly upon the heavens.

A corner of the interior of the temple is made visible. Two massive walls meet at an angle at the back and to the left of the stage. As a consequence, the right-hand wall reaches about two-thirds of the way across the stage in a diagonal direction before it joins the shorter left-hand wall. The loftiness of the walls indicates that the ceiling is immeasurably remote; they are wrought of some mysterious rock, dull blue in color, of the texture of coarse sandstone, the great blocks of which have been dexterously fitted together. Yet they give a curious impression of instability despite their impressive dimensions: they seem— there is no other word-moth-eaten, and they are discolored as if by the centuries.

In the center of the right-hand wall are two ponderous and gloomy gates which have not swung upon their hinges within the memory of man; instead, a smaller door, not much higher than a man's head, has been cut through the lower panel of the righthand gate, and through this postern the priests have access to a balcony overhanging a great space toward the north. To the extreme right of this same wall there is a doorway, opening upon a sombre hall. Over this entrance hangs a blue tapestry, embroidered in gold with arabesque designs.

In the left-hand wall there is also a door, but a door raised above the level of the floor to an extent permitting two steps to lead up to the platform before the door. This entrance, which is draped with an arras precisely like the other, leads into a chamber. The platform in front of it is about ten feet by six, and one mounts to it by the steps, which extend entirely around it. Upon the outer corner of this platform toward the back there is an iron standard taller than a tall man's head. This standard supports a kind of cresset, the fitful light of which serves to illumine the chamber.

In the middle of the stage there is a low, circular platform about three or four feet in diameter and some six inches high. The steps and the two platforms are dingy white, and the central platform in particular is cracked and old.

Toward the right of the stage and in front there is a brazier, supported by a tripod of brass, carved in the semblance of three intertwining serpents. The eyes of the serpents are made of rubies, which gleam dully in the pale light of the flames of the brazier. Tripod and vessel are alike old, and green with damp and verdigris.

A white heap of clothes behind the brazier marks where a woman is miserably lying. She seems to have lain there forever.

In the pause that follows the rising of the curtain the silence hangs heavily over the temple. Then A PRIEST, his head closeshaven, a short yellow robe upon his body, scurries like a frightened rabbit out of the doorway to the left, darts down the steps, and goes hurrying out of the door to the extreme right. The woman does not move.

A gong sounds hollowly from some subterranean chamber; before the reverberations have quite died away, there follows a succession of wild and furious strokes which cause the yelling echoes to tumble over one another in the hollow rooms. The woman stirs uneasily. Another priest, his yellow robe half-torn from his shoulders, enters from the door at the left. The blue tapestry impedes his hurried entrance-indeed, the hangings on the two doorways seem imbued with some fantastic life of their own— and with a muttered curse he jerks himself away, tearing the arras so that it hangs awkwardly across the door. Then he hurries on. This is JASPER. From the right-hand door, and almost stumbling over the prostrate woman, MELNAK enters and stops the other in the middle of the stage.

MELNAK is old, crafty, and hideous. His robe shows that one leg is deformed, and his arms are bent and twisted. In his face there is concentrated all that deception and fear, all that power and a life-time of service before the blue gods can produce in a soul already wild and demoniac. JASPER is younger, with a bald head, fishy eyes, a retreating chin, and great hairy arms and legs. His mouth is twitching convulsively, and now and then he slobbers from sheer terror and wipes his lips with his arm.

(Sharply) Well?

MELNAK

JASPER

They are coming! They are coming! We have seen them! They are coming from their blue towers in the north.

MELNAK

Who is at the outer gates?

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the shadows of their white beards across the stars. It is they it is the gods!

(Contemptuously)

MELNAK

There are no gods. Go into the Chamber of the Scourges and wait.

(Craven with a new fear)

JASPER

No! No! I will go back. I will go back to the gates! [JASPER attempts to avoid MELNAK by dodging around the little platform, but the latter, with unexpected dexterity, seizes him and pinions his arms behind his back.]

(Fiercely)

MELNAK

You are a fool! And you have broken the Seventh Lawdo you hear? The Seventh Law!

JASPER

(Gibbering) No-no!

MELNAK

(Slowly and with meaning)

It is not to the Chamber of the Scourges, it is to the Chamber of the Fire that we . . . .

(JASPER whimpers and looks desperately around him.)

MELNAK

In the Chamber of the Fire-do you remember Marzek? You were there.

JASPER

(Nodding and whimpering)

O send me to the scourges-don't send me to the fire! I-I will go back. I-I will be the first to meet the gods.

MELNAK

(Sternly, with an obscene satisfaction)

You have broken the Seventh Law. And Marzek-how the flames ate his eyelids, and into the nails of his hands!

[blocks in formation]

To the scourges, then-dog of a priest!

[JASPER lies abjectly for a moment where MELNAK threw
him down. Then he crawls to MELNAK's side and kisses
his hand, fawning his thanks. At a curt gesture from the
high priest, he sidles out by the door to the right.
MELNAK stands for a moment sneering at him; pauses;
then goes to the door at the back, flings it open, and steps
out on a narrow balcony that overhangs a great space.
The doorway frames only an intense darkness. After a
moment he returns, shudders as if with cold, shuts the
door, and gazes with a troubled look at his hands.]

MELNAK

(As if to reassure himself) There are no gods.

[The woman stirs slowly, like one recovering from heavy dreams. At length she lifts her head and gazes far away. MELNAK is abruptly made aware of her.]

MELNAK

(Harshly, hobbling forward like the incarnate evil of the place)

Who are you? What do you want?

[The woman slowly turns her head and regards him in a daze.]

MELNAK

(Seizing her shoulder and roughly shaking her) What are you doing here? Who are you?

[The woman releases his grasp and rises slowly, clinging to one of the legs of the tripod for support. She turns and looks fixedly at the priest; she does not cower, but as she takes in the whole horror of his face she shivers slightly and lifts her hand to her breast. And then one sees that she is not a woman, but a beggar girl, slim and

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