ï»¿                             THE SQUAW MANThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States andmost other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictionswhatsoever. You may copy it, give itaway or re-use it under the termsof the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online athttp://www.gutenberg.org/license. If you are not located in the UnitedStates, youâll have to check the laws ofthe country where you arelocated before using this ebook.Title: The Squaw ManAuthor: Julie Opp FavershamRelease Date: August 14, 2016 [EBook #52804]Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: UTF-8*** STARTOF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SQUAW MAN ***Produced by Al Haines.[Illustration: Cover art][Illustration: "âBIG FATHERâSEND FOR LITTLE HALâHAL SEE THE RISING SUNâ"See page250]                            *The Squaw Man*                               *A Novel*                                  *By                          Julie Opp Faversham*                       *Adapted from the Play by                          Edwin MiltonRoyle*                                New York                            Grosset & Dunlap                               Publishers            Published by arrangement with Harper & Brothers                 Copyright, 1906, by HARPER &BROTHERS.                         _All rights reserved._                       Published December, 1906.                                   TO                           WILLIAM FAVERSHAM                            *ILLUSTRATIONS*"THE SQUAWMAN" . . . Cover Inlay"âBIG FATHERâSEND FOR LITTLE HALâHAL SEE THE RISING SUNâ" . . .Frontispiece"ALMOST AS ONE MAN THEY THRUST THEIR REVOLVERS INTO BUDâS FACE""SHE DREWHERSELF UP CLOSE TO HIM, AND SAID âME KILL âUMâ""âYES, DIANA. MY BOYâMY SONâ"_The illustrations in this book are reproduced from photographs ofscenes in the play, made byHallâs Studio, New York; the cover inlay byMorrison, Chicago._                                 *HOME*                            *THE SQUAW MAN*                              *CHAPTER I*It was Jimâs last day at home.  He stoodin the centre of the fragrantgarden and watched the glory of color suffusing the Surrey hills towardsthe west.  With a sigh he turned away and walked to the house."Whereâs Diana?" he called, as he came from thegarden through thecasement-window of the library."Dianaâwhy, sheâs in bed an hour ago, I should hope," replied his aunt,Lady Elizabeth Kerhill. "She and Mabel went with Bates to see thedecorations and thensaid good-night.  Surely you didnât expect me toallow the children to stay up for the ball?"Mabel was her daughter; Diana Marjoribanks was a young girl of thirteen,who had come to visit her."Poor imps! they wereso excited all day, and followed me about thegun-room where I was doing some packing.  They wanted me to coax you toallow them to see the ball, and the tenantry welcome Henry to-night."Lady Kerhill elevated hereyebrows in questioning amazement at Jim, asshe nervously twisted the lace of her gown, and with an impatientgesture motioned the subject aside.  She was a tall, angular woman, witha profile like the head on abronze coin; there was a suggestion of theeagle in her personality, and by her friends she was likened to thefamous Sarah Churchill, the first Duchess of Marlborough.To-night her face showed that anxious thoughtswere crowding in on heras she apprehensively watched the big, carved oak door leading into thehall. Jim knew his auntâs firmness of character, and as silence followedhis words, he feared further discussion wasuseless; but the wistfulfaces of the children at tea-time in the nursery, as they coaxed him toplead for them to see the fun, made him venture a final appeal."You know, Aunt, Sir Charles brought Di over to stay withMabel so thatshe might see the festivities and incidentally say good-bye to me, soyou might turn angel and let Diana dance once with me at the verybeginning of the ball.  I shaânât see my little playfellow forages, youknow."A sound from outside held Lady Elizabethâs attention more intently thanJimâs pleading words.  He crossed to her in the window-enclosure andlaid his hand caressingly on her shoulder."TheColonel wired me that we were leaving Paddington at nine to-morrowmorning, and India is a long way off, Auntie mine.""Nonsense," answered Lady Elizabeth, as she rose from the deepwindow-seat.  "You are almosttwenty, and Diana is only a babeâisnâtshe, Henry?"  She glanced up and appealed to the young man who rathernoisily entered the library."Whoâs a babe?  Diana?  Why, mater, sheâs a little witch, and Ipromisedher Iâd let her see the illuminations at ten and then old Burrow shouldcarry her off to bed."Henry Wynnegate, seventh Earl of Kerhill, dropped into a great settleclose to the fire.  The ball was for thetenantry in celebration of hisreturn, after five yearsâ absence with his regiment.  He was a tall,heavy-set young soldier of seven-and-twenty, with the famous Wynnegatebeauty, but it was marred by the shiftingexpression of his ratherdeep-set eyes and the heavy lines about his mouth.  Self was his god: itshowed in every expression of his face and in every action of his life.Jim Wynnegate, his cousin, the son of the youngerbrother of the lateEarl, Henryâs father, turned from the window as Henry entered.  In theyoung boyâs faceâfor he seemed younger than his yearsâone could easilytrace the family resemblance; but Jim,with his great, clean spiritshining in his honest gray eyes, invited confidence and won it, from amongrel dog to a superior officer.  He was taller than Henry, and asslim as a young sapling.  The delicate, sensitive mouthwas balanced bya strong chin.In the oak-lined room, grown almost black with age, the candle-lightsflickering in the heavy brass sconces, stood these three lastdescendants of a great family. The Earlâs brother, DickWynnegate, hadrun away with the daughter of an impecunious colonel.  A few yearslater, while on service in India, he was shot, and the young wife livedonly to bring the tiny boy Jim home and to leave him with herhusbandâsbrother.  Even then the fortunes of the Wynnegates were somewhatimpaired, but the old Earl had taken the boy to his heart, and on hisdeath had confided him to his wife to share their fortune with hissonHenry.  His last words were, "Be good to poor Dickâs boy."  The estateswere entailed, so no provision could be made by him for Jim, but LadyKerhill, in her cold, just fashion, had tried to make Dickâs boyhappy.Deep in his heart, Jim remembered the years that followed; rememberedthe selfish domination of the elder boy; remembered the blind adorationof his aunt for her son, the bearer of the torch, who was to carryonthe golden light of the house of Kerhill.  In the Anglo-Saxon idolatryof the Countess of Kerhill for the male of the family, all the oldtraditions and beliefs were justified.  Her boyâ-the man-child who wasto be thehead of the houseâwas her obsession. The tiny, flower-likegirl who came shortly before her husbandâs death, learned soon to turnto Cousin Jim for comfort when her brother carelessly crushed her littlejoys, ashe selfishly planned and fought for his own gratification.Instinctively Jim watched his aunt, who, at Henryâs word, had started tomove towards him."Of course, if you care to go and fetch Diana, I shall be happy,"LadyKerhill said.Henry lounged back in his chair.  "Well, if I forget, Jim can rememberfor meâeh, Jim?"Lady Kerhillâs face became grave as she leaned over Henryâs chair andclosely studied the flushedface.  She found there confirmation of thefear that had preyed on her mind for the past half-hour."Oh, Henry, youâve broken your word," she whispered.The reckless challenge of Henryâs dark eyes as he movedimpatiently inhis chair was his only answer. Then in a burst of ill-concealedresentment he rose: "Donât nag, mother."He swayed slightly as he crossed to the open casement. As Jim turned tohim, he sullenly pushedhim aside."And donât you preach," he muttered, as he started for the garden.Jim quickly caught him by the shoulder, "Pull yourself together, Henry.Itâs eight oâclock and the people are gathering in thepark."Henryâs only reply was a snarl as he disappeared in the shadow of thetrees.The broad window opened level on an Old World garden that led into thegreat park beyond.  The late twilight of the July night wasbathing parkand garden in a curious, unearthly light which made strange spectres ofthe slowly waving yew-trees.  The scent of the rose-bushes, the call ofthe late nightingale to his mate, and the ghostlysundial,sentinel-like, guarding the old place, made a fitting environment forMaudsley Towers.On a slight hill beyond the park, Jim could see the ruins of the famousNorman church.  To the right, at the farther end of thegarden, was theFairiesâ Corner. There among the trees the fairies of the field weresupposed to sleep, and to listen to and grant the requests of thechildren, who had the courage to venture to them ateven-tide.  Jimâsthoughts were busy to-night; all the old memories seemed to tug at hisheartstrings.He had carried Diana Marjoribanks there on her first visit to theTowers.  She was six then and he wastwelve.  She had clung to him andhid her head on his shoulderâthe tiny body had stiffened with fearâasthey made their way to the dark enclosure of the trees.  He could stillhear her prayer."Dear Fairy, pleasemake Henry kinder to poor Jim, poor Mabel, and poorme!"Even then, Henry had been the little tyrant of the Towers.And yet to-night Henryâs wish, as of old, was law to his mother.  Sheconceded Diana to him at hisfirst careless request, although in allprobability he would forget the longing child in the nurseryâforget hispromise to give her pleasure, as he had forgotten so often when he was aboy.Jim roused himself; as heturned to Lady Elizabeth he caught a glimpseof her with the mask off, the bitter disappointment of the motherâsheart showing in every line of her proud face.  He crossed to her, butthe sound of carriage-wheelsturning into the driveway heralded theapproach of the first arrivals, and before Jim could speak the doorswere thrown open to the guests.Lady Elizabeth gave one look of appeal to Jim. It said: "Help Henryandme!"Up-stairs in the right wing of the old house, a tall, slender childcrouched close to the nursery window. She had crept from her cot, and,wrapped in a coverlet, waited, and clung to the belief that Henrywouldcome for her.  Jim had said he would try, but Henry had promised.  Shewas old enough to know that what Henry desired he obtained.  Her littleface was pressed closer and closer to the window as she listened totheswelling music and saw the guests thronging towards the park.  Carriageafter carriage brought its load of finery, until the child fancied thatthe entire county must be gathered below.  She could see throughtheclimbing roses down into the library, which jutted out at a sharp anglealmost opposite to the nursery window.  But of Jim or Henry she couldcatch no glimpse.The stars began to creep out and blink at the tiny figurein thewindow-seat.  Gradually the entire house grew quiet.  Allâeven theservantsâhad joined the revelry in the park.The music crashed louder.  Fiery showers of illumination could be seenshooting and flaminginto the sky.  It grew cold.  Tighter she drew thecoverlet and held closer the small puppy that nestled warm in her armsand slept.  In the adjoining room Mabel, Lady Kerhillâs little daughter,lay fast asleep."ItâsJimâs last night.  I must say good-bye," the child whispered tothe fleecy white bundle in her arms. "I must keep awake and saygood-bye."Fainter grew the music, darker the sky, and heavier the curvedeyelids.Slowly, with a sigh the child slipped to the floor, and the brown headpillowed itself on the cushioned window-seat.  Diana slept.In the park, the tenantry, eager to meet their young master, wereshoutingthemselves hoarse.  A speech of welcome followed the dazzlingilluminations.  Over it all, Lady Elizabeth, with Sir CharlesMarjoribanks, presided.Diana and her father lived on a neighboring estate, and Sir Charleshadcome to-night to rejoice with his old friend on the return of her son.Sir Charles was a man of slender physique, with a gentle, winningmanner; extremely delicate in health, he led for the most part asecluded life, andsince the death of his wife, at Dianaâs birth, wentlittle into the social world.  Dianaâs childhood had been almost aslonely as Jimâs had been in his auntâs home.  To-night Sir Charlesdelighted in seeingthe house of Wynnegate honored.  He scarcely notedthe reckless demeanor and wild spirits of Henry as unusual; only for Jimand Lady Elizabeth was it a night of anxiety.  Never for a moment didHenry escape Jimâswatchful eyes; slip after slip made by Henry wascovered by Jimâs tact and thoughtfulness, and with simple dignity hecarried the night to success.  Only when he stood aside and saw Henryreceive thedemonstrations of the county and tenantry did the bitternessof his position force itself upon him.  Not once did Henry remember hispromise to the child waiting for him.  Jim remembered; but the look ofappeal from hisaunt, and the sullen defiance of Henry, kept him closeto his cousinâs side.The final bars of the last dance were dying away and the ball wasdrawing to its brilliant end.  In the east, a pale streak of light wasbeginningto show over the horizon.  Sir Charles, half an hour before,had gone to his room.  Exhausted by the long eveningâs anxiety and latefestivities, Lady Kerhill forgot that Jim was to leave early in themorning and thatshe would not see him again, and had retired to her ownapartment.  In the great hall, tired and excited groups of guests weresaying good-night."Itâs good-bye for Jim," Sir John Applegate, Dianaâs cousin,called asthe last carriage drove away.A half-whimsical smile played over Jimâs face. Then some one rememberedthat he was leaving England.  As he turned from the door, he met theeyes of his cousin fastened onhim, all the latent rebellion rising tothe surface.  Henry Kerhill was sober enough to know that Jim hadwatched and guarded him through the entire night, and had stood betweenhim and disgrace.  As he leaned againstthe tall mantel, the bitterconsciousness that the young boy had proved himself of fine mettle, atelike acid into his feverish brain.  He dug his hands deep into hispockets, then with a lurch he pulled himself together.Without a word heturned, crossed to the twisted staircase, and grasping the oak rails,slowly ascended. From the landing came the slam of a heavy door, and Jimknew that he was alone.So this was the end.  The strikingof the bell in the church-towerreminded him that it was now four oâclock and that he was to leave atsix.  His luggage had been sent on ahead the previous day.  He changedquickly, without disturbing the tiredservants, and in half an hour wasready to walk to the station.  As he came down the broad staircase,lined with portraits of the ancestors of the house of Wynnegate, aslight noise in the corridor leading off from thebroad landingattracted him.  Before he could turn, a low voice called:"JimâJim!"It was Diana.  Standing there in the dim light of the corridor, she madean entrancing picture.  With the parted hair falling away fromthe lowbrow, around the oval face, and the far-apart blue-black eyes, shelooked like the child Madonna of Rosettiâs "Annunciation."  The coverletwas drawn close about her, the puppy still hidden under itsfolds."Itâs Di, Jim," she whispered as she hurried to him.  "I waited andwaited for youâI knew you were going away and I wanted to say good-bye.Burrow promised that she would let me see you, but sheâsfast asleep,and so is Mabel.  I tried to wake them but I couldnât."  The littlefigure cuddled into his arms.Jimâs heart was very full as he looked at the frail child in the earlydawn, the shadows of a restless nightshowing on her delicately modelledface. He drew her into a window-enclosure, and wrapping the heavycurtains about her, held her fast."Say something," the sweet voice coaxed.  "I shall miss you so and waitfor you tocome back.  You will come back, wonât you?"Jimâs only answer was to press the little head close to his heart.  Inall the great house, she alone had cared to say good-byeâto wish him inher childâs waygodspeed."See," Diana continued as she opened her arms, "here is something foryou to take away with you, so that you shaânât be lonely any more."  Sheopened her arms and held up the soft roll of fur with itsblinking eyesand pink-tipped nose."Di, dear Di," Jim whispered, as he patted the towsled hair.Quite seriously her big eyes searched Jimâs face to be sure that hergift truly won approval.The church clock boomed thehour of five.  Jim hurriedly rose andslipped the dog into his coat-pocket."Good-bye, Di, and God bless you!"She clung quietly to him with her arms tight around his neck for a longtime; then the little face quivered, andin a burst of tears she sankback among the cushions of the window-seat.  Jim hesitated a moment,then with a final pat on the dear head, hurriedly reached the doorwayand was out on the high-road. From a turn at thetop of the common hecaught a last glimpse of the great house, and in the big window of thehall could see the faint outline of the white figure still huddled amongthe cushions.All the suppression of the past days gaveway. With a cry, Jim threwhimself down on the damp ground and convulsive sobs shook his body.  Ithad all been hisâhis home, his countryâand he was leaving it without afriend, without a loving hand or voiceto cheer him.He suddenly felt a damp nose thrust into his hand, and a soft tonguebegan to lap his face as though in sympathy.  The tiny puppy had fallenfrom his pocket and crawled on to his shoulder.  He rose to hisfeet andpicked up the fluffy ball; something in the round, pulpy mass made himlaugh."So Iâve found a friend, have I?  Is that what youâre trying to tellme?"The dog gave a faint yelp in reply and began to lickhis hand.  Holdingthe dog close to him, Jim walked on, all the boy in him welling up tomeet the promise of the new day.  Suddenly he stopped as he neared thestation platform, and stroking gently the soft fur, hewhispered:"Iâll call you Di."                              *CHAPTER II*It was London in full swing.  A wild April shower had sprung up and wasquickly driving people into the shelter of passing hansoms.  There was asuddenexodus from the park of gayly gowned women, hurrying to theirwaiting carriages.  Bewildered nurses gathered their young charges intoprotecting corners.  Only a few minutes before it had been radiantsunshine.  Openhigh-swung see-victorias, with their powdered, liveriedmen on the boxes, and unprotected occupants driving from a royal houseto a ducal assemblage, were caught in the congested mass of hansoms,top-heavyâbusses, and passing carts. Stalwart, blue-coated giants weretrying to stem the rush and scramble.Diana crossed from the couch where she had been sitting to the openwindow.  In a weekâs time she was to bemarried.  She held a note in herhand, which had just come by messenger.  It was from Henry.  He couldnot take her to Ranelagh as he had planned, he wrote.  Unexpectedbusiness had arisen, but he would see herlater in the evening.The room in which Diana stood faced Hyde Park. The house was one ofthose built a century ago by the mad Duke of Delford, and was famous forthe purity of its architecture.  On this spring day thefront lookedlike a hanging garden, so abundant and exquisite were the large boxes oftrailing flowers. The room with its Adam ceiling and mantel, its crimsonbrocade curtains against the pale-cream walls, its rarespecimens ofSheraton and Chippendale and precious bits of china, made a harmonioussetting for Diana in her dove-colored gown.  Bowls of yellow jonquilsand daffodils gleamed like golden bits of imprisoned sunlightonslender-legged tables.Diana was alone.  Lady Dillingham, her aunt, and the mistress of thePark Lane House was confined to her room with a sharp attack of gout.From the window looking out across the park, the rainglinted like afine sheet of steel.  It beat down the great beds of flaming hyacinthsand daffodils that lined the park walk with their glory of purple andyellow.  The blue-and-white fleecy sky of a past half-hour now hungoverthe town like a dirty shipâs sail, with puffing, dun-colored cloudssweeping past.Diana half consciously watched the amusing scurry of the passers-by.Through the long, open windows protected by a projectingbalcony shecould hear the splashing of the rain against the pavement.  Theconfusion of carriages began to straighten itself out. The hurryingcrowds disappeared as though swallowed up in the drenched


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                    HOW TO LOSE FRIENDS AND ALIENATE PEOPLE                                                          Writtenby                              Peter Straughan                                               09/05/07 SHOOTING SCRIPT         FADE IN:                                   1 TV SCREEN - BLACK AND WHITE MOVIE1           ...British, fifties, a melodrama. We're looking at an           ACTRESS - glamorous, young - but very much in the back           ground of the scene - a secretary typing at herdesk.                          REVERSE           A YOUNG BOY sits watching the film, his clothes and the           room around him telling us this is England in the 1960s. He           is staring raptly at theactress.           SIDNEY (V.O.)           All my life I've been a Looky-           Loo.                          DISSOLVE TO:                                   2 INT. GOLDEN GLOBES AWARDS - EVENING2                          SLOW-MOTION           We are CLOSE on an extremely handsome YOUNG MAN staring           past us with a dazzling smile.           SIDNEY (V.O.)           My name's SidneyYoung. I'm a           journalist...a hack. (Beat) Yeah,           that...that isn't me.           We PAN right and down to our hero - SIDNEY YOUNG -           thirties, an odd-ball with a knack for getting people to           dislikehim.           SIDNEY (CONT'D) (V.O.) (CONT'D)           This is me at the Golden Globe           Awards in L.A. this year. That's           my Armani tuxedo. That's a Rolex           Sea-Dweller 4000 watchI'm           wearing.           Still in SLOW-MOTION we TRACK BACK and see that Sidney is           at a table with several other people, all staring raptly           past us to the stage which is out ofshot.                          SIDNEY (CONT'D)           Those people all around me -           they're all famous. They're my           friends.           Beside him sits a beautiful young woman - SOPHIEMAES           (20's).           2.                                                             SIDNEY (CONT'D) (V.O.) (CONT'D)           That's the actress Sophie Maes.           This morning she told me she           wouldlet me have sex with her if           she won the Best Actress Award.           Still in SLOW MOTION, Sophie suddenly covers her face with           her hands and begins to stand.           SIDNEY (CONT'D) (V.O.)(CONT'D)           She just won the Best Actress           Award.           Sophie walks out of the shot. Still sporting the fixed           smile, Sidney claps in SLO-MO along with everyone else in           the room. WeTRACK away from Sidney past tables of           CELEBRITIES towards an EXIT.                          SIDNEY (CONT'D)           My life didn't used to be like           this.           We PUSH THROUGH the EXIT DOORSand find ourselves           impossibly looking at...                                   3 EXT. LONDON - LEICESTER SQUARE - LATE AFTERNOON 3                                   4 SLOW MOTION TRACKING SHOT4           ...a crowd of FANS held back from us by a red rope, craning           their necks to see us more clearly, waving, cheering,           shouting, cameras flashing... Rain lashes down.           A CAPTION reads:"Sidney's Life, One Year Ago. Bafta           Awards. London."           SIDNEY (V.O.)           Looky-Loos. That's what They call           you when you stand out in the           rain all night just to catcha           glimpse of Them going by.           REVERSE - CELEBRITIES walk down the red carpet, pausing to           wave at the fans.                          SIDNEY (CONT'D)           I used to pretend itwas           different for me because I was           getting paid by a magazine or           newspaper, whatever. But that's,           you know...I just loved watching           Them. I'd stand outside looking           in throughthe window and think           what it would be like to somehow           get inside. But there was only           one way to get past the thin red           line that separates the           celebrities from the civilians.           Youhad to be famous.           3.                                                                                4A EXT. SECURITY POINT - LATE AFTERNOON 4A           Sidney stands talking to a young PR WOMAN at thesecurity           gate. He has a small, ugly PIG on a leash.                          PR WOMAN           Babe?                          SIDNEY           Babe Three. Yeah.           She looks doubtfully at thepig.                          PR WOMAN           Babe was a cute little piglet.                          SIDNEY           Harry Potter used to be a cute           little piglet too. What do you           want? TempusFugits...                          PR WOMAN           He hasn't got any ID.                          SIDNEY           How many pigs are coming tonight?           Look, I was told to bring him,           hand him over tothe producer,           Bob Milton, inside. You want me            to leave him here with you,           that's fine...                          PR WOMAN           No, you can't leave him with me.           I've got...Hold on,I'll...           She looks around, helplessly. She begins to unhook the red           rope. Sidney tries to hide his excitement.           PR WOMAN (CONT'D)           If you're positive that you're           supposedto...           An OLDER PR WOMAN stalks over.           OLDER PR WOMAN                          (ICILY)           Well, well, SidneyYoung.                          SIDNEY                          (RUMBLED)           Well, well...clipboard Nazi-type           woman.           She turns to the SECURITY standing beside them.           OLDER PRWOMAN           The pig doesn't get in.           4.                                                             She starts to walk away.                          SIDNEY           What about me?           OLDER PRWOMAN           I was talking about you.                                                  5 MOMENTS LATER 5           Sidney and the Pig are being "escorted" away from the red           carpet by theSecurity.           SIDNEY (V.O.)           The Looky-Loos dream is that one           day they will somehow get to           mingle with the stars. But the           Industry can't allow any           mingling. Stars haveto be kept           away from civilians, have to be           quarantined, so they don't become           normal. Like us.           They pass a ravishing HOLLYWOOD ACTRESS walking the other           way. She looks curiouslyat the pig as she passes. Sidney           stares after her, longingly.                                   6 INT. SANDERSON HOTEL - EVENING 6           TRACKING through the doors and into the lobby ofthe           exclusive hotel.           SIDNEY (V.O.)           But after the awards come the           parties - the Miramax Party, the           London Records Party and, best of           all - the Sharps MagazineParty,           so exclusive that there are no           pass-alongs, no plus-ones, no           press.           We find Sidney checking in at the desk.                          SIDNEY (CONT'D)           (toReceptionist,                          HORRIFIED)           How much? I only want to stay for           one night!                                   7 INT. ELEVATOR - MOMENTS LATER 7           Sidney stands in therising elevator, suit bag in his hand,           holdall at his feet.           SIDNEY (V.O.)           5.                                    This is where the movie stars can           finally relax, secure inthe           knowledge they are among their           own kind.           We see the PIG'S SNOUT poking out of the zip of the           holdall.                                   8 INT. HOTEL ROOM - EVENING 8           Sidneyturns from the mirror to face us. He is wearing a           WAITER'S UNIFORM of white shirt, waistcoat, and bow tie. He           is also wearing a WIG and FALSE MOUSTACHE.           SIDNEY (V.O.)           Andthat is when I strike.           He picks up a tray of canapés from the bed and looks down           to where the Pig watches him from the floor.                          SIDNEY (CONT'D)           I want you in bed by ten.And no           porn.           He tosses the pig one of the canapés.                                   9 INT. HOTEL - EVENING 9           Sidney, tray in hand, peers around the corner to the           entrance to the hotel'sroofed COURTYARD. The Older PR           Woman we saw earlier stands at the door, a formidable           presence. As we watch she greets an approaching CELEBRITY           gushingly. Seizing his chance Sidney dartstowards the door           and, tray held aloft to cover his face, slips through into           the courtyard beyond.                                   10 INT. HOTEL COURTYARD - SHARPS MAGAZINE PARTY - MOMENTS10                          LATER           ...as Sidney emerges from the washrooms, now dressed only           in the white shirt and black trousers. He scoops up a           passing glass of champagne, checks hismoustache and           surveys the courtyard - a room full of glamour: tanned           skin, diamonds, beautiful dresses, beautiful suits,           champagne. He stands surveying the crowd of A-list           celebrities infront of him, dazed.                          SIDNEY                          (TO HIMSELF)           You can do this. You belong here.           You're a star. You're a big,           bright shiningstar...           6.                                                                                11 INT. HOTEL ROOM - EVENING 11           The room is trashed - furniture over-turned, mini-bar open           and brokenbottles all over the floor. A weird squealing           which could almost be human is coming from the bathroom.           ASSISTANT MANAGER (O.S.)           Hello? Sir?           The squealingstops.           ASSISTANT MANAGER (CONT'D)           Is everything alright?           The door opens and the Assistant Manager walks in and           stands staring around him in horror. Behind him thepig           emerges from the bathroom and slips out of the open door,           across the corridor and straight into the open lift...                                   12 INT. SHARPS PARTY - EVENING 12           Sidney istalking to a very famous and very drunk Hollywood           ACTRESS.                          SIDNEY           No, when I'm in L.A. I stay at           the Sunset Marquis, when I'm here           I always stay atthe Sanderson.           It's, you know, I don't feel at           home these days unless I'm in a           hotel.                          HOLLYWOOD ACTRESS           So what do youdo?                          SIDNEY           Oh, I'm a writer. Movie writer.                          HOLLYWOOD ACTRESS           Oh great.                          SIDNEY           Yeah. Got one inpre-production           now. You know it's really weird           running into you like this           because just the other day I was           telling the producer I thought           you'd be perfect for the lead.           She starts


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of A King, and No Kingby Francis Beaumont and John FletcherThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, giveit away orre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.netTitle: A King, and No KingAuthor: Francis Beaumont and John FletcherRelease Date: May 10,2004 [EBook #12312]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A KING, AND NO KING ***Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jayam Subramanian and PG DistributedProofreadersA KING, ANDNO KING.By Francis Beaumont and John FletcherPersons Represented in the Play.Arbaces, _King_  of Iberia.Tigranes, _King of_  Armenia.Gobrias, _Lord Protector, and Father of_  Arbaces.Bacurius, _anotherLord_.Mardonius.)Bessus,  ) _Two Captains_Ligo[n]es, _Father of_  Spaconia._Two Gentlemen_._Three Men and a Woman_.Philip, _a servant, and two Citizens Wives_._A Messenger_._A Servant to_  Bacurius._TwoSword-men_._A Boy_.Arane,  ) _The [Queen-Mother_.Panthea,) _Her Daughter_.Spaconia,) _A Lady Daughter of_  LigonesMandane,) _A waiting woman, and other attendants_.       *       *       *       *       *_Actusprimus. Scena prima_.       *       *       *       *       *_Enter_  Mardonius _and_  Bessus, _Two Captains_._Mar_.  _Bessus_, the King has made a fair hand on't, he has ended the  Wars at a blow, would my sword had aclose basket hilt to hold  Wine, and the blade would make knives, for we shall have nothing  but eating and drinking._Bes_.  We that are Commanders shall do well enough._Mar_.  Faith _Bessus_, such Commanders asthou may; I had as lieve set  thee Perdue for a pudding i'th' dark, as _Alexander_  the Great._Bes_.  I love these jests exceedingly._Mar_.  I think thou lov'st 'em better than quarrelling _Bessus_, I'le  say so much i'thybehalf, and yet thou 'rt valiant enough upon a  retreat, I think thou wouldst kill any man that stopt thee if  thou couldst._Bes_.  But was not this a brave Combate _Mardonius_?_Mar_.  Why, didst thousee't?_Bes_.  You stood wi'me._Mar_.  I did so, but me thought thou wink'dst every blow they strook._Bes_.  Well, I believe there are better souldiers than I, that never saw  two Princes fight in lists._Mar_.  By mytroth I think so too _Bessus_, many a thousand, but  certainly all that are worse than thou have seen as much._Bes_.  'Twas bravely done of our King._Mar_.  Yes, if he had not ended the wars: I'me glad thou dar'sttalk of  such dangerous businesses._Bes_.  To take a Prince prisoner in the heart of's own Country in single  combat._Mar_.  See how thy blood curdles at this, I think thou couldst be  contented to be beaten i'thispassion._Bes_.  Shall I tell you truly?_Mar_.  I._Bes_.  I could willingly venture for't._Mar_.  Um, no venture neither _Bessus_._Bes_.  Let me not live, if I do not think 'tis a braver piece of service  than that I'me sofam'd for._Mar_.  Why, art thou fam'd for any valour?_Bes_.  Fam'd! I, I warrant you._Mar_.  I'me e'en heartily glad on't, I have been with thee e're since  thou cam'st to th'wars, and this is the first word that everI  heard on't, prethee who fames thee._Bes_.  The Christian world._Mar_.  'Tis heathenishly done of'em in my conscience, thou deserv'st it  not._Bes_.  Yes, I ha' don good service._Mar_.  I do not know how thoumayst wait of a man in's Chamber, or thy  agility of shifting of a Trencher, but otherwise no service good  _Bessus_._Bes_.  You saw me do the service your self._Mar_.  Not so hasty sweet _Bessus_, where was it, isthe placevanish'd?_Bes_.  At _Bessus_  desp'rate redemption._Mar_.  At _Bessus_  desp'rate redemption, where's that?_Bes_.  There where I redeem'd the day, the place bears my name._Mar_.  Pray thee, whoChristened it?_Bes_.  The Souldiers._Mar_.  If I were not a very merrily dispos'd man, what would become of  thee? one that had but a grain of choler in the whole composition  of his body, would send thee of an errandto the worms for  putting thy name upon that field: did not I beat thee there i'th'  head o'th' Troops with a Trunchion, because thou wouldst needs  run away with thy company, when we should charge theenemy?_Bes_.  True, but I did not run._Mar_.  Right _Bessus_, I beat thee out on't._Bes_.  But came I not up when the day was gone, and redeem'dall?_Mar_.  Thou knowest, and so do I, thou meanedst to flie, andthy fear  making thee mistake, thou ranst upon the enemy, and a hot charge  thou gav'st, as I'le do thee right, thou art furious in running  away, and I think, we owe thy fear for our victory; If I were the  King, andwere sure thou wouldst mistake alwaies and run away  upon th' enemy, thou shouldst be General by this light._Bes_.  You'l never leave this till I fall foul._Mar_.  No more such words dear _Bessus_, for though I haveever known  thee a coward, and therefore durst never strike thee, yet if thou  proceedest, I will allow thee valiant, and beat thee._Bes_.  Come, our King's a brave fellow._Mar_.  He is so _Bessus_, I wonder how thoucam'st to know it. But if  thou wer't a man of understanding, I would tell thee, he is  vain-glorious, and humble, and angry, and patient, and merry and  dull, and joyful and sorrowful in extremity in an hour: Donot  think me thy friend for this, for if I ear'd who knew it, thou  shouldst not hear it _Bessus_. Here he is with his prey in his  foot._Enter &c. Senet Flourish_._Enter_  Arbaces _and_  Tigranes, _Two Kings and twoGentlemen_._Arb_.  Thy sadness brave _Tigranes_  takes away  From my full victory, am I become  Of so small fame, that any man should grieve  When I o'recome him? They that plac'd me here,  Intended it anhonour large enough, (though he  For the most valiant living, but to dare oppose me single,  Lost the day. What should afflict you, you are as free as I,  To be my prisoner, is to be more free  Than you were formerly,and never think  The man I held worthy to combate me  Shall be us'd servilely: Thy ransom is  To take my only Sister to thy Wife.  A heavy one _Tigranes_, for she is  A Lady, that the neighbour Princes send  Blanks tofetch home. I have been too unkind  To her _Tigranes_, she but nine years old  I left her, and ne're saw her since, your wars  Have held me long and taught me though a youth,  The way to victory, she was a prettychild,  Then I was little better, but now fame  Cries loudly on her, and my messengers  Make me believe she is a miracle;  She'l make you shrink, as I did, with a stroak  But of her eye _Tigranes_._Tigr_.  Is't the courseof _Iberia_  to use their prisoners thus?  Had fortune thrown my name above _Arbace_,  I should not thus have talk'd Sir, in _Armenia_  We hold it base, you should have kept your temper  Till you saw home again,where 'tis the fashion  Perhaps to brag._Arb_.  Be you my witness earth, need I to brag,  Doth not this captive Prince speak  Me sufficiently, and all the acts  That I have wrought upon his suffering Land;  Should I thenboast! where lies that foot of ground  Within his whole Realm, that I have not past,  Fighting and conquering; Far then from me  Be ostentation. I could tell the world  How I have laid his Kingdom desolate  By this soleArm prop't by divinity,  Stript him out of his glories, and have sent  The pride of all his youth to people graves,  And made his Virgins languish for their Loves,  If I would brag, should I that have the power  To teach theNeighbour world humility,  Mix with vain-glory?_Mar_.  Indeed this is none._Arb.  _Tigranes_, Nay did I but take delight  To stretch my deeds as others do, on words,  I could amaze my hearers._Mar_.So youdo._Arb_.  But he shall wrong his and my modesty,  That thinks me apt to boast after any act  Fit for a good man to do upon his foe.  A little glory in a souldiers mouth  Is well-becoming, be it far from vain._Mar_.  'Tispity that valour should be thus drunk._Arb_.  I offer you my Sister, and you answer  I do insult, a Lady that no suite  Nor treasure, nor thy Crown could purchase thee,  But that thou fought'st with me._Tigr_.  Thoughthis be worse  Than that you spake before, it strikes me not;  But that you think to overgrace me with  The marriage of your Sister, troubles me.  I would give worlds for ransoms were they mine,  Rather than haveher._Arb_.  See if I insult  That am the Conquerour, and for a ransom  Offer rich treasure to the Conquered,  Which he refuses, and I bear his scorn:  It cannot be self-flattery to say,  The Daughters of your Country setby her,  Would see their shame, run home and blush to death,  At their own foulness; yet she is not fair,  Nor beautiful, those words express her not,  They say her looks have something excellent,  That wants a name:yet were she odious,  Her birth deserves the Empire of the world,  Sister to such a brother, that hath ta'ne  Victory prisoner, and throughout the earth,  Carries her bound, and should he let her loose,  She durst notleave him; Nature did her wrong,  To Print continual conquest on her cheeks,  And make no man worthy for her to taste  But me that am too near her, and as strangely  She did for me, but you will think I brag._Mar_.  Ido I'le be sworn. Thy valour and thy passions sever'd, would  have made two excellent fellows in their kinds: I know not  whether I should be sorry thou art so valiant, or so passionate,  wou'd one of 'em wereaway._Tigr_.  Do I refuse her that I doubt her worth?  Were she as vertuous as she would be thought,  So perfect that no one of her own sex  Could find a want, had she so tempting fair,  That she could wish it off fordamning souls,  I would pay any ransom, twenty lives  Rather than meet her married in my bed.  Perhaps I have a love, where I have fixt  Mine eyes not to be mov'd, and she on me,  I am not fickle._Arb_.  Is that allthe cause?  Think you, you can so knit your self in love  To any other, that her searching sight  Cannot dissolve it? So before you tri'd,  You thought your self a match for me in [f]ight,  Trust me _Tigranes_, she can doas much  In peace, as I in war, she'l conquer too,  You shall see if you have the power to stand  The force of her swift looks, if you dislike,  I'le send you home with love, and name your ransom  Some other way, but ifshe be your choice,  She frees you: To _Iberia_  you must._Tigr_.  Sir, I have learn'd a prisoners sufferance,  And will obey, but give me leave to talk  In private with some friends before I go._Arb_.  Some to await himforth, and see him safe,  But let him freely send for whom he please,  And none dare to disturb his conference,  I will not have him know what bondage is,                                           [_Exit Tigranes_.  Till he be freefrom me. This Prince, _Mardonius_,  Is full of wisdom, valour, all the graces  Man can receive._Mar_.   And yet you conquer'd him._Arb_.  And yet I conquer'd him, and could have don't  Hadst thou joyn'd with him,though thy name in Arms  Be great; must all men that are vertuous  Think suddenly to match themselves with me?  I conquered him and bravely, did I not?_Bes_.  And please your Majesty, I was afraid atfirst._Mar_.   When wert thou other?_Arb_.  Of what?_Bes_.  That you would not have spy'd your best advantages, for your  Majesty in my opinion lay too high, methinks, under favour, you  should have lainthus._Mar_.  Like a Taylor at a wake._Bes_.  And then, if please your Majesty to remember, at one time, by my  troth I wisht my self wi'you._Mar_.  By my troth thou wouldst ha' stunk 'em both out o'th'Lists._Arb_.  What to do?_Bes_.  To put your Majesty in mind of an occasion; you lay thus, and  _Tigranes_  falsified a blow at your Leg, which you by doing thus  avoided; but if you had whip'd up your Leg thus, andreach'd him  on the ear, you had made the Blood-Royal run down his head._Mar_.  What Country Fence-school learn'st thou at?_Arb_.  Pish, did not I take him nobly?_Mar_.  Why you did, and you have talked enoughon't._Arb_.  Talkt enough?  Will you confine my word? by heaven and earth,  I were much better be a King of beasts  Than such a people: if I had not patience  Above a God, I should be call'd a Tyrant  Throughout theworld. They will offend to death  Each minute: Let me hear thee speak again,  And thou art earth again: why this is like  _Tigranes_  speech that needs would say I brag'd.  _Bessus_, he said I brag'd._Bes_.  Ha, ha,ha._Arb_.  Why dost thou laugh?  By all the world, I'm grown ridiculous  To my own Subjects: Tie me in a Chair  And jest at me, but I shall make a start,  And punish some that others may take heed  How they arehaughty; who will answer me?  He said I boasted, speak _Mardonius_,  Did I? He will not answer, O my temper!  I give you thanks above, that taught my heart  Patience, I can endure his silence; what willnone  Vouchsafe to give me answer? am I grown  To such a poor respect, or do you mean  To break my wind? Speak, speak, some one of you,  Or else by heaven._1 Gent_.  So please your._Arb_.  Monstrous,  I cannotbe heard out, they cut me off,  As if I were too saucy, I will live  In woods, and talk to trees, they will allow me  To end what I begin. The meanest Subject  Can find a freedom to discharge his soul  And not I, now it is atime to speak,  I hearken._1 Gent_.  May it please._Arb_.  I mean not you,  Did not I stop you once? but I am grown  To balk, but I defie, let another speak._2 Gent_.  I hope your Majesty._Arb_.  Thou drawest thywords,  That I must wait an hour, where other men  Can hear in instants; throw your words away,  Quick, and to purpose, I have told you this._Bes_.  And please your Majesty._Arb_.  Wilt thou devour me? this is sucha rudeness  As you never shew'd me, and I want  Power to command too, else _Mardonius_  Would speak at my request; were you my King,  I would have answered at your word _Mardonius_,  I pray you speak, andtruely, did I boast?_Mar_.Truth will offend you._Arb_.  You take all great care what will offend me,  When you dare to utter such things as these._Mar_.  You told _Tigranes_, you had won his Land,  With that sole armpropt by Divinity:  Was not that bragging, and a wrong to us,  That daily ventured lives?_Arb_.  O that thy name  Were as great, as mine, would I had paid my wealth,  It were as great, as I might combate thee,  Iwould through all the Regions habitable  Search thee, and having found thee, wi'my Sword  Drive thee about the world, till I had met  Some place that yet mans curiosity  Hath mist of; there, there would I strike theedead:  Forgotten of mankind, such Funeral rites  As beasts would give thee, thou shouldst have._Bes_.  The King rages extreamly, shall we slink away? He'l strike us._2 Gent_.  Content._Arb_.  There I would make youknow 'twas this sole arm.  I grant you were my instruments, and did  As I commanded you, but 'twas this arm  Mov'd you like wheels, it mov'd you as it pleas'd.  Whither slip you now? what are you too good  To wait onme (_puffe_,) I had need have temper  That rule such people; I have nothing left  At my own choice, I would I might be private:  Mean men enjoy themselves, but 'tis our curse,  To have a tumult that out of theirloves  Will wait on us, whether we will or no;  Go get you gone: Why here they stand like death,  My words move nothing._1 Gent_.  Must we go?_Bes_. I know not._Arb_.  I pray you leave me Sirs, I'me proud ofthis,  That you will be intreated from my sight:  Why now the[y] leave me all: _Mardonius_.                      [_Exeunt all but_  Arb. _and_  Mar._Mar_.  Sir._Arb_.  Will you leave me quite alone? me thinks  Civility shouldteach you more than this,  If I were but your friend: Stay here and wait._Mar_.  Sir shall I speak?_Arb_.  Why, you would now think much  To be denied, but I can scar[c]e intreat  What I would have: do,speak._Mar_.  But will you hear me out?_Arb_.  With me you Article to talk thus: well,  I will hear you out._Mar_.  Sir, that I have ever lov'd you, my sword hath spoken for me;  that I do, if it be doubted, I dare call anoath, a great one to  my witness; and were you not my King, from amongst men, I should  have chose you out to love above the rest: nor can this challenge  thanks, for my own sake I should have done it, because Iwould  have lov'd the most deserving man, for so you are._Arb_.  Alas _Mardonius_, rise you shall not kneel,  We all are souldiers, and all venture lives:  And where there is no difference in mens worths,  Titles arejests, who can outvalue thee?  _Mardonius_  thou hast lov'd me, and hast wrong,  Thy love is not rewarded, but believe  It shall be better, more than friend in arms,  My Father, and my Tutor, good_Mardonius_._Mar_.  Sir, you did promise you would hear me out._Arb_.  And so I will; speak freely, for from thee  Nothing can come but worthy things and true._Mar_.  Though you have all this worth, you hold somequalities that do  Eclipse your vertues._Arb_.  Eclipse my vertues?_Mar_.  Yes, your passions, which are so manifold, that they appear even  in this: when I commend you, you hug me for that truth: but when  I speakyour faults, you make a start, and flie the hearing but._Arb_.  When you commend me? O that I should live  To need such commendations: If my deeds  Blew not my praise themselves about the earth,  I were mostwretched: spare your idle praise:  If thou didst mean to flatter, and shouldst utter  Words in my praise, that thou thoughtst impudence,  My deeds should make 'em modest: when you praise I hug  you? 'tis so [false],that wert thou worthy thou shouldst receive  a death, a glorious death from me: but thou shalt understand  thy lies, for shouldst thou praise me into Heaven, and there  leave me inthron'd, I would despise thee thoughas much as  now, which is as much as dust because I see thy envie._Mar_.  However you will use me after, yet for your own promise sake,  hear me the rest._Arb_.  I will, and after call unto the winds, for they shalllend as  large an ear as I to what you utter: speak._Mar_.  Would you but leave these hasty tempers, which  I do not say take from you all your worth, but darken 'em,  then you will shineindeed._Arb_.  Well._Mar_.  Yet I would have you keep some passions, lest men should take you  for a God, your vertues are such._Arb_.  Why now you flatter._Mar_.  I never understood the word, were you no King,and free from  these moods, should I choose a companion for wit and pleasure, it  should be you; or for honesty to enterchange my bosom with, it  should be you; or wisdom to give me counsel, I would pick out  you;or valour to defend my reputation, still I should find you  out; for you are fit to fight for all the world, if it could come  in question: Now I have spoke, consider to your self, find out a  use; if so, then what shall fall to meis not material._Arb_.  Is not material? more than ten such lives, as mine, _Mardonius_:  it was nobly said, thou hast spoke truth, and boldly such a truth  as might offend another. I have been too passionate andidle,  thou shalt see a swift amendment, but I want those parts you  praise me for: I fight for all the world? Give me a sword, and  thou wilt go as far beyond me, as thou art beyond in years, I  know thou dar'st andwilt; it troubles me that I should use so  rough a phrase to thee, impute it to my folly, what thou wilt, so  thou wilt par[d]on me: that thou and I should differ thus!_Mar_.Why 'tis no matter Sir._Arb_.  Faith but it is, butthou dost ever take all things I do, thus  patiently, for which I never can requite thee, but with love, and  that thou shalt be sure of. Thou and I have not been merry  lately: pray thee tell me where hadst thou that samejewel in  thine ear?_Mar_.  Why at the taking of a Town._Arb_.  A wench upon my life, a wench _Mardonius_  gave thee that jewel._Mar_.  Wench! they respect not me, I'm old and rough, and every limb  about me, butthat which should, grows stiffer, I'those  businesses I may swear I am truly honest: for I pay justly for  what I take, and would be glad to be at a certainty._Arb_.  Why, do the wenches encroach upon thee?_Mar_.  I bythis light do they._Arb_.  Didst thou sit at an old rent with 'em?_Mar_.  Yes faith._Arb_.  And do they improve themselves?_Mar_.  I ten shillings to me, every new young fellow they come  acquainted with._Arb_.  Howcanst live on't?_Mar_.  Why I think I must petition to you._Arb_.  Thou shalt take them up at my price._Enter two Gentlemen and_  Bessus._Mar_.  Your price?_Arb_.  I at the Kings price._Mar_.  That may be morethan I'me worth._2 Gent_.  Is he not merry now?_1 Gent_.  I think not._Bes_.  He is, he is: we'l shew our selves._Arb_.  Bessus, I thought you had been in _Iberia_  by this, I bad you  hast; _Gobrias_  will wantentertainment for me._Bes_.  And please your Majesty I have a sute._Arb_.  Is't not lousie _Bessus_, what is't?_Bes_.  I am to carry a Lady with me._Arb_.  Then thou hast two sutes._Bes_.  And if I can prefer her tothe Lady _Pentha_  your Majesties  Sister, to learn fashions, as her friends term it, it will be  worth something to me._Arb_.  So many nights lodgings as 'tis thither, wilt not?_Bes_.  I know not that Sir, but gold I shall


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lady, or the Tiger?, by Frank R. StocktonThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.netTitle: The Lady, or the Tiger?Author: Frank R. StocktonLast updated: December 28, 2008PostingDate: July 20, 2008 [EBook #396]Release Date: January, 1995Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADY, OR THE TIGER? ***Produced by Edward A. Malone.THE LADY, OR THETIGER?byFrank R. StocktonIn the very olden time there lived a semi-barbaric king, whose ideas,though somewhat polished and sharpened by the progressiveness ofdistant Latin neighbors, were still large, florid, anduntrammeled, asbecame the half of him which was barbaric. He was a man of exuberantfancy, and, withal, of an authority so irresistible that, at his will,he turned his varied fancies into facts. He was greatly giventoself-communing, and, when he and himself agreed upon anything, thething was done.  When every member of his domestic and politicalsystems moved smoothly in its appointed course, his nature was blandandgenial; but, whenever there was a little hitch, and some of hisorbs got out of their orbits, he was blander and more genial still, fornothing pleased him so much as to make the crooked straight and crushdown unevenplaces.Among the borrowed notions by which his barbarism had become semifiedwas that of the public arena, in which, by exhibitions of manly andbeastly valor, the minds of his subjects were refined and cultured.Buteven here the exuberant and barbaric fancy asserted itself. Thearena of the king was built, not to give the people an opportunity ofhearing the rhapsodies of dying gladiators, nor to enable them to viewthe inevitableconclusion of a conflict between religious opinions andhungry jaws, but for purposes far better adapted to widen and developthe mental energies of the people. This vast amphitheater, with itsencircling galleries, itsmysterious vaults, and its unseen passages,was an agent of poetic justice, in which crime was punished, or virtuerewarded, by the decrees of an impartial and incorruptible chance.When a subject was accused of acrime of sufficient importance tointerest the king, public notice was given that on an appointed day thefate of the accused person would be decided in the king's arena, astructure which well deserved its name, for,although its form and planwere borrowed from afar, its purpose emanated solely from the brain ofthis man, who, every barleycorn a king, knew no tradition to which heowed more allegiance than pleased his fancy, andwho ingrafted on everyadopted form of human thought and action the rich growth of hisbarbaric idealism.When all the people had assembled in the galleries, and the king,surrounded by his court, sat high up on histhrone of royal state onone side of the arena, he gave a signal, a door beneath him opened, andthe accused subject stepped out into the amphitheater. Directlyopposite him, on the other side of the inclosed space, weretwo doors,exactly alike and side by side. It was the duty and the privilege ofthe person on trial to walk directly to these doors and open one ofthem. He could open either door he pleased; he was subject to noguidanceor influence but that of the aforementioned impartial andincorruptible chance. If he opened the one, there came out of it ahungry tiger, the fiercest and most cruel that could be procured, whichimmediately sprang uponhim and tore him to pieces as a punishment forhis guilt. The moment that the case of the criminal was thus decided,doleful iron bells were clanged, great wails went up from the hiredmourners posted on the outer rim ofthe arena, and the vast audience,with bowed heads and downcast hearts, wended slowly their homeward way,mourning greatly that one so young and fair, or so old and respected,should have merited so dire afate.But, if the accused person opened the other door, there came forth fromit a lady, the most suitable to his years and station that his majestycould select among his fair subjects, and to this lady he wasimmediatelymarried, as a reward of his innocence. It mattered not thathe might already possess a wife and family, or that his affectionsmight be engaged upon an object of his own selection; the king allowedno such subordinatearrangements to interfere with his great scheme ofretribution and reward. The exercises, as in the other instance, tookplace immediately, and in the arena. Another door opened beneath theking, and a priest, followedby a band of choristers, and dancingmaidens blowing joyous airs on golden horns and treading an epithalamicmeasure, advanced to where the pair stood, side by side, and thewedding was promptly and cheerilysolemnized. Then the gay brass bellsrang forth their merry peals, the people shouted glad hurrahs, and theinnocent man, preceded by children strewing flowers on his path, ledhis bride to his home.This was the king'ssemi-barbaric method of administering justice. Itsperfect fairness is obvious. The criminal could not know out of whichdoor would come the lady; he opened either he pleased, without havingthe slightest idea whether,in the next instant, he was to be devouredor married. On some occasions the tiger came out of one door, and onsome out of the other. The decisions of this tribunal were not onlyfair, they were positively determinate:the accused person wasinstantly punished if he found himself guilty, and, if innocent, he wasrewarded on the spot, whether he liked it or not. There was no escapefrom the judgments of the king's arena.The institutionwas a very popular one. When the people gatheredtogether on one of the great trial days, they never knew whether theywere to witness a bloody slaughter or a hilarious wedding.  Thiselement of uncertainty lent aninterest to the occasion which it couldnot otherwise have attained. Thus, the masses were entertained andpleased, and the thinking part of the community could bring no chargeof unfairness against this plan, for did notthe accused person havethe whole matter in his own hands?This semi-barbaric king had a daughter as blooming as his most floridfancies, and with a soul as fervent and imperious as his own. As isusual in such cases,she was the apple of his eye, and was loved by himabove all humanity. Among his courtiers was a young man of thatfineness of blood and lowness of station common to the conventionalheroes of romance who loveroyal maidens. This royal maiden was wellsatisfied with her lover, for he was handsome and brave to a degreeunsurpassed in all this kingdom, and she loved him with an ardor thathad enough of barbarism in it to makeit exceedingly warm and strong.This love affair moved on happily for many months, until one day theking happened to discover its existence. He did not hesitate nor waverin regard to his duty in the premises. Theyouth was immediately castinto prison, and a day was appointed for his trial in the king's arena.This, of course, was an especially important occasion, and his majesty,as well as all the people, was greatly interested inthe workings anddevelopment of this trial. Never before had such a case occurred; neverbefore had a subject dared to love the daughter of the king. In afteryears such things became commonplace enough, but thenthey were in noslight degree novel and startling.The tiger-cages of the kingdom were searched for the most savage andrelentless beasts, from which the fiercest monster might be selectedfor the arena; and the ranks ofmaiden youth and beauty throughout theland were carefully surveyed by competent judges in order that theyoung man might have a fitting bride in case fate did not determine forhim a different destiny. Of course,everybody knew that the deed withwhich the accused was charged had been done. He had loved the princess,and neither he, she, nor any one else, thought of denying the fact; butthe king would not think of allowingany fact of this kind to interferewith the workings of the tribunal, in which he took such great delightand satisfaction. No matter how the affair turned out, the youth wouldbe disposed of, and the king would take anaesthetic pleasure inwatching the course of events, which would determine whether or not theyoung man had done wrong in allowing himself to love the princess.The appointed day arrived. From far and near the peoplegathered, andthronged the great galleries of the arena, and crowds, unable to gainadmittance, massed themselves against its outside walls.  The king andhis court were in their places, opposite the twin doors, thosefatefulportals, so terrible in their similarity.All was ready. The signal was given. A door beneath the royal partyopened, and the lover of the princess walked into the arena.  Tall,beautiful, fair, his appearance was greetedwith a low hum ofadmiration and anxiety. Half the audience had not known so grand ayouth had lived among them. No wonder the princess loved him! What aterrible thing for him to be there!As the youth advancedinto the arena he turned, as the custom was, tobow to the king, but he did not think at all of that royal personage.His eyes were fixed upon the princess, who sat to the right of herfather. Had it not been for the moietyof barbarism in her nature it isprobable that lady would not have been there, but her intense andfervid soul would not allow her to be absent on an occasion in whichshe was so terribly interested. From the moment thatthe decree hadgone forth that her lover should decide his fate in the king's arena,she had thought of nothing, night or day, but this great event and thevarious subjects connected with it. Possessed of more power,influence,and force of character than any one who had ever before been interestedin such a case, she had done what no other person had done,--she hadpossessed herself of the secret of the doors. She knew in whichof thetwo rooms, that lay behind those doors, stood the cage of the tiger,with its open front, and in which waited the lady.  Through these thickdoors, heavily curtained with skins on the inside, it was impossiblethat anynoise or suggestion should come from within to the person whoshould approach to raise the latch of one of them. But gold, and thepower of a woman's will, had brought the secret to the princess.And not only did sheknow in which room stood the lady ready to emerge,all blushing and radiant, should her door be opened, but she knew whothe lady was. It was one of the fairest and loveliest of the damsels ofthe court who had beenselected as the reward of the accused youth,should he be proved innocent of the crime of aspiring to one so farabove him; and the princess hated her. Often had she seen, or imaginedthat she had seen, this faircreature throwing glances of admirationupon the person of her lover, and sometimes she thought these glanceswere perceived, and even returned. Now and then she had seen themtalking together; it was but for amoment or two, but much can be saidin a brief space; it may have been on most unimportant topics, but howcould she know that? The girl was lovely, but she had dared to raiseher eyes to the loved one of theprincess; and, with all the intensityof the savage blood transmitted to her through long lines of whollybarbaric ancestors, she hated the woman who blushed and trembled behindthat silent door.When her lover turnedand looked at her, and his eye met hers as shesat there, paler and whiter than any one in the vast ocean of anxiousfaces about her, he saw, by that power of quick perception which isgiven to those whose souls are one,that she knew behind which doorcrouched the tiger, and behind which stood the lady. He had expectedher to know it. He understood her nature, and his soul was assured thatshe would never rest until she had madeplain to herself this thing,hidden to all other lookers-on, even to the king. The only hope for theyouth in which there was any element of certainty was based upon thesuccess of the princess in discovering this mystery;and the moment helooked upon her, he saw she had succeeded, as in his soul he knew shewould succeed.Then it was that his quick and anxious glance asked the question:"Which?" It was as plain to her as if heshouted it from where hestood. There was not an instant to be lost. The question was asked in aflash; it must be answered in another.Her right arm lay on the cushioned parapet before her. She raised herhand, andmade a slight, quick movement toward the right. No one buther lover saw her. Every eye but his was fixed on the man in the arena.He turned, and with a firm and rapid step he walked across the emptyspace. Everyheart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eyewas fixed immovably upon that man. Without the slightest hesitation, hewent to the door on the right, and opened it.Now, the point of the story is this: Did thetiger come out of thatdoor, or did the lady?The more we reflect upon this question, the harder it is to answer. Itinvolves a study of the human heart which leads us through deviousmazes of passion, out of which it isdifficult to find our way. Thinkof it, fair reader, not as if the decision of the question dependedupon yourself, but upon that hot-blooded, semi-barbaric princess, hersoul at a white heat beneath the combined fires ofdespair andjealousy. She had lost him, but who should have him?How often, in her waking hours and in her dreams, had she started inwild horror, and covered her face with her hands as she thought of herloveropening the door on the other side of which waited the cruelfangs of the tiger!But how much oftener had she seen him at the other door! How in hergrievous reveries had she gnashed her teeth, and torn her hair,whenshe saw his start of rapturous delight as he opened the door of thelady! How her soul had burned in agony when she had seen him rush tomeet that woman, with her flushing cheek and sparkling eye oftriumph;when she had seen him lead her forth, his whole frame kindled with thejoy of recovered life; when she had heard the glad shouts from themultitude, and the wild ringing of the happy bells; when she hadseenthe priest, with his joyous followers, advance to the couple, and makethem man and wife before her very eyes; and when she had seen them walkaway together upon their path of flowers, followed by thetremendousshouts of the hilarious multitude, in which her one despairing shriekwas lost and drowned!Would it not be better for him to die at once, and go to wait for herin the blessed regions of semi-barbaricfuturity?And yet, that awful tiger, those shrieks, that blood!Her decision had been indicated in an instant, but it had been madeafter days and nights of anguished deliberation. She had known shewould be asked, shehad decided what she would answer, and, without theslightest hesitation, she had moved her hand to the right.The question of her decision is one not to be lightly considered, andit is not for me to presume to setmyself up as the one person able toanswer it. And so I leave it with all of you: Which came out of theopened door,--the lady, or the tiger?End of Project Gutenberg's The Lady, or the Tiger?, by Frank R. Stockton***END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADY, OR THE TIGER? ******** This file should be named 396.txt or 396.zip *****This and all associated files of various formats will be foundin:        http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/396/Produced by Edward A. 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                                  SOURCE CODE                                  Written by                                  BenRipley                                                          1/18/2007                                                  SOURCE CODE          Darkness.          A SOUND slowly builds: the rhythmic rocking of aTRAIN'S          WHEELS over RAILROAD TRACKS...          INT. HIGH SPEED TRAIN - MORNING          COLTER jolts awake. Sunlight hits his face.          He blinks. A stunned beat. He's disoriented.          Slowlyhe turns his head to one side...          PASSENGERS. Filling most of the seats. Office workers on          their morning commute into a city.          Turning the other way, he's confronted with a window. Trees          flashby, splitting the rising sunlight into a hypnotic          strobe pattern.          Colter looks to be thirty years old. A military buzz cut. A          disciplined physique, lean and spare, almost gaunt. Skin          burnished byyears of desert sandstorms and equatorial sun.          His expression, prematurely aged by combat, is perpetually          wary, sometimes predatory, accustomed to trouble.          Despite his military bearing, Colterwears a button down          shirt and navy sports coat. On his wrist is a digital watch.          It reads 7:40 a.m.          He swallows. A strange, creeping panic.          He has no idea where he is.          EXT. NEWJERSEY COUNTRYSIDE - MORNING          The train hurls straight at us.          NEW ANGLE -- Skimming alongside as the train twists and          turns, sucking up track -- feet, yards, miles of it.          Beneath it,the curving rails, which the rushing train barely          seems to touch. They vibrate with an eerie, dulcimer HUM.                                                                                2.          INT.TRAIN - MORNING          Colter hasn't moved. By his side he sees a canvas MESSENGER          BAG. Is that his?          Tentatively, he lifts the edge of the bag to look inside. A          red APPLE rolls against twoLIBRARY BOOKS. The bag's leather          NAME TAG reads: "SEAN FENTRESS."          It's not coming back to him. This whole experience is          starting to freak him out.          He catches the scent of something. Apassenger walks by with          a STEAMING CUP OF COFFEE.          CHK-THOCK! Two rows back, an OVERWEIGHT MAN opens a can of          soda.          Sitting opposite Colter, facing him, is a WOMAN in herlate          twenties (CHRISTINA). In contrast to the corporate suits          around her, her appearance is thrift store funky: black nail          polish, dark lipstick, black hair with blue streaks, a button-          down blouseedged in black funeral lace with silver skull-and-          bones cufflinks. She's busy writing in a journal.                         COLTER          Ma'am?          Nothing.                         COLTER          Excuseme... ma'am?          She looks up. Blank stare.                         COLTER          What is this?                         CHRISTINA          What's what?                         COLTER          Where amI?                         CHRISTINA          (looks out the window)          Almost at Newark.          Goes back to her journal.                         COLTER          What's Newark? Acity?                                                                                3.                         CHRISTINA          It's more of a hell hole.          But Colter still doesn't understand. He gets up.Nausea          slams into him. He hangs on to the seat.                         COLTER          Woah.                         (BEAT)          I think I'm going topuke.                         CHRISTINA          (gestures, alarmed)          Okay, bathroom's that way.          Colter looks down the aisle, hesitating.                         CHRISTINA          Go.Seriously.          Colter eases himself into the aisle. Totters down the length          of the car until he finds the RESTROOM.          The door is LOCKED. The latch reads "OCCUPIED."          Bracing himself, he lurchesforward into...          INT. TRAIN - SECOND CAR - MORNING          He freezes. It's a mirror image of the first car. But no,          the passengers are different.          Beside him there's a small door. Thinking it'sthe bathroom,          he instead opens it to find a CONDUCTOR'S COMPARTMENT. A          cramped office with chairs and surveillance monitors.                         CONDUCTOR          Ticket?          A heavy-setCONDUCTOR stands in the aisle. A jangling of          keys. Colter just stares at him. Dazed.                         CONDUCTOR          May I see your ticket?          The last thing on his mind. Bewildered, he searcheshis          pockets.                         COLTER          I don't think I...                                                                                4.                         CONDUCTOR          Haveto write you up then.          He pulls out a citation pad.                         COLTER          Is this...?          From inside his sports coat he pulls out a TRAIN TICKET. The          conductor snips his ticket andbrushes past.                         COLTER          Wait a sec. I'm a little out of it          here. Where's this train headed?                         CONDUCTOR          New York. PennStation.                         COLTER          New York?          Why would he be going to New York? How can this be          happening? Fear starts to grip him as the hallucination          simplycontinues.                         COLTER          Do you know where I got on?          The conductor examines his ticket again.                         CONDUCTOR          PrincetonJunction.                         COLTER          Where's that?                         CONDUCTOR          "Bout ten minutes back.                         COLTER          But I've never been toPrinceton          Junction. See... I don't remember          waking up or buying a ticket or          getting on the train or anything          else. It's just a blank.                         CONDUCTOR          Luckyyou.          The jaded conductor moves on. Colter is alone with his          confusion. Takes a deep breath. The nausea haseased          slightly.                                                                                5.                         COLTER          Okay. You're gonna figure this          out.          INT. TRAIN -FIRST CAR - MORNING          Entering the first car again. The rows of passengers. Must          be at least forty people.          As he walks back up the aisle, he looks from face to face:          A pale COMPUTERENGINEER reviews some documents.          A forty-something SECRETARY does a crossword puzzle.          DEREK, a stock broker type, talks on his cell phone:                         DEREK          Trust me, by oneo'clock, the          bridge is going to be jammed...          A COLLEGE STUDENT, slumped against a window, eyes shut,          listens to an MP-3 player.          An OLD MAN with a faded wool suit clutches a cane.          ABACKPACKER, female, European, 20s, hiking boots, examines a          guidebook.          A dowdy OFFICER MANAGER type sorts supermarket coupons into a          tabbed file box.          An African American EXECUTIVEreads a newspaper.          None of them pays any attention to Colter.          A WHOOSH of AIR -- he turns to          An AIR-CONDITIONING VENT. The HISS of AIR sound sinister.          Like the exhalations of acreature.          A SCRAPE. He looks to see          A woman FILING HER NAILS.          Colter cringes. Every detail, every sensory impression seems          heightened, near the point of overload.          He reachesChristina again. Eases back in the seat across          from her. She writes in her journal, ignoring him.                                                                                6.          There's somethingelse in his sports coat. A WALLET. He          turns it over a few times, inspecting it. Pulls out a          DRIVER'S LICENSE. Another man's face is in the photo. The          name on the license reads: "SEAN FENTRESS."The same name as          on the messenger bag. The street address on the license          reads: "58 Alexander Road, Princeton Junction, New Jersey."                         COLTER          Sean Fentress? Who thehell's          that?          And why does he have this guy's wallet? He leans forward to          speak with Christina again.                         COLTER          Ma'am?          She lowers her journal, annoyed. We seeshe hasn't been          writing but DRAWING. A well-executed sketch of a face.                         CHRISTINA          Why do you keep calling me ma'am?          How old do you think I am,anyway?                         COLTER          I'm having a little problem here.          I'm trying not to freak out, but I          think something's happened to me.                         CHRISTINA          Likewhat?                         COLTER          Like, total memory loss. Complete.          I don't know how I got here.                         CHRISTINA          So you drank too much last night.          So did I.Unfortunately, I          remember the whole thing.                         COLTER          That's not it. See... I'm a pilot.          I fly helicopters in Iraq. I'm in          the army.          She waits for more. As if he'stelling a joke.                         COLTER          I was on a mission. Right before I          woke up here I was in the middle of          amission...                                                                                7.          Wavering. Unsure of himself. His memories.                         CHRISTINA          Boy, you really diddrink a lot          last night.                         COLTER          I'm telling you the truth.          ANNOUNCER (V.O.)          Now approaching Newark Station.          Newark Station, next stop.          Thetrain begins to SLOW DOWN. A few people begin to get up.          The platform of Newark Station slides into view.                         COLTER          These aren't my clothes. And this          wallethere...          He holds up the driver's license. One final attempt to          convince her.                         COLTER          You see this? This isn't me.                         CHRISTINA          Of course itis.                         COLTER          What?                         CHRISTINA          Take a look in the mirror, good          sir.          The mirror? She goes back to her sketchbook. Determined not          to beinterrupted again. Anxiety ripples through Colter.                         COLTER          This can't be happening.          The train lurches to a stop.          ANNOUNCER (V.O.)          NewarkStation.          Colter gets up. Through the windows, a few passengers          disembark onto the platform: Derek, the Old Man, the College          Kid and GUZMAN, a Middle Eastern man, who HURRIES past allof          them towards the station building.                                                                                8.          Colter only half notices all this. He's intent on reaching          the train's