Laurence Housman

“ Tiki. Oh, look here, Mee-Mee! When they’ve gone, you come and clean up for me, and I’ll—well, I’ll show you—something I’m doing.
Enter from house Mr. and Mrs. Olangtsi.
Mrs. O. Oh, so you are back, are you? When is the chair coming?
[Tikipu looks out.
Tiki. Condescension, they are bringing it now.
Students. [Without.]
Lights, lights, lights!
Come and see the sights!
Chin, Chin, Chinaman!
Did ever you see a finer man,
A major, or a minor man?
Lights, lights, lights!
Mrs. O. Olangtsi, are you ready?
Olang. Yes, my dear, I’m ready. Where is my lantern, Mee-Mee?
Mrs. O. Is Yunglangtsi ready? ”

“ It is morning: six or seven students squat painting. Between every two of them is a small stand for paint-pots, brushes, etc. All are very lazy and desultory at their work: the only industrious one is Tikipu, who, in shabby menial attire, grinds colours with weary persistence. The students yawn, stretch, and whine; and resume work in a perfunctory way at intervals upon shop-signs, lanterns, etc. On the dais sits Yunglangtsi, a mountain of indolent fat: sunk [Pg 2] in profound slumber he squats before his easel. Street-criers are heard without calling their wares. ”

“ Ah! say, isn’ dat pletty—what?
Tiki. Pretty! Mee-Mee, don’t you ever dare to call anything that I paint pretty! It’s only quite silly things that are pretty:—coloured toys, and wax dolls, and paper kites, and fat babies, so long as they don’t cry,—and foolish little girls who sit and chatter, but know nothing about Art!... Oh! they are all as pretty as you like ... ”

“ In life, and live anew!...
The world awaits you! Good-bye, Tikipu! [Tikipu has turned slowly away, gazing at his hands in a daze of grief and humility. Wiowani vanishes into the picture.
Re-enter Mee-Mee, wearing her bridal crown. Tikipu continues to move away.
Mee. Tiki! Tikipu!
Tiki. Why, Mee-Mee, is that you? What have you come for? It’s ... it’s very early, isn’t it?... Is any one up? Mee-Mee, what’s the matter? You are changed! What has happened since yesterday?
[Pg 88]
Mee. Since yes’day?
Tiki. It was ... it was yesterday, wasn’t it? Mee-Mee,—how long have I been away? ”

“ How can you hope to help Tikipu?
Mee. Ugh! Dat velly easy t’ing, if he really want me.... Me say here to myself sometimes, ‘Now, t’ink, Mee-Mee, t’ink Tiki come all back again! T’ink dat you am his wife!... Den he sit like dis, and he paint: an’ you—just sit-an’-wait! Plesently he paint—all wrong: got to be closs with somebody—of course! Den he closs wid you! an’ you—jus’ sit-an’-wait! Den he paint ’bominable: got to beat somebody—beat you, eh? Den de picture come—all right!... Say, isn’t dat de way? ”

“ Her law brings bondage: where her feet find room
Her hand holds sway: she tears, that it may bleed,
The heart which follows her, and every need
Of man’s frail flesh she takes and turns to scorn!
Who worships her, by him is sackcloth worn ”

“ But before we turn to scenes of distraction and relaxation I am here once more to remind you of your high and privileged calling in the traditions of Wiowani, the greatest of all the ancient Masters, whose only surviving follower and representative I am, and whose last and greatest masterpiece here stands before you for your instruction.
[Students turn: Nau-Tee knocks over Hiti’s
paint-pot.
Hiti. Propinquitous idiot!
Olang. This august picture, as you all know——
Yung. [Awaking.] I want my tea, I’m waiting for my tea. Tea—Tea—Tea!
Mrs. O. [Going to inner door.] Mee-Mee, bring in the tea! ”

“ What is yo’self?... Only a man! You isn’t quite a man yet—else you never say foolish t’ing like dat!... ‘Only!’
Tiki. Ah, well! I mean it’s a secret, something you don’t know anything about. There are many mysteries in the world, Mee-Mee. ”

“ And so we got the world as it is—full of ups and downs, and behinds and befores, and corners that you can’t see round. Horrible, untidy, disgusting!
[Pg 13]
New. Well, but what can an artist do? He must copy it!
Lil. Copy it! Where does Repeating-pattern find art in that? Mere pig on pork I call it. What art has to do is—put things back into shape as the gods originally intended. Make your picture submissively flat—and there you’ve got religious art. A picture that looks as if you could walk into it makes me sick. ”

“ Wiowani thrown in.
[Pg 12]
Han. That’s a stupid story, you know. What business has a picture with any perspective? You might as well talk of walking into a piece of music as walking into a picture!
Hiti. Ah! you are an old-fashioned purist, Han-Kin.
Han. I’m not: I am simply a scientist. Latest science says that you can’t tell whether a thing is flat or round at twenty feet distance from the eye. Stereoscopic sight is a mere accident, and only means that you have got too close to an object to treat it artistically. ”

“ I dreamt I was a grocer again.... I dreamt that I....
[Exeunt Students bearing Yunglangtsi. ‘Lights, lights, lights,’ etc.
Olang. Ah, the low lout! Grocer indeed! How shall I ever make an artist of a thing like that?
Mrs. O. You won’t; so don’t worry yourself! That’s Heaven’s affair, not yours. As he’s got to wait, he may as well do it sleeping as waking. You can’t hurry a comet by treading on its tail, so you’d better leave it alone!... Mee-Mee, you go to bed at once.... Tikipu, take away those oil-cans!
[Exit Mee-Mee into house, Tikipu into pantry.
[To Olangtsi.] ”

“ You are always saying what Art wants is imagination. Well—let him practise imagining himself a grocer.
Enter Mee-Mee from house.
Yung. [Weeping.] It said I was to be a grocer, not an artist!
Mrs. O. [To Josi.] Here, you can go! Tell him—as soon after twelve as he can.
Josi. I’ll bring him.
[Exit Josi-Mosi.
Mee. Will any of yo’ Condescensions tea? Have some? [To Yunglangtsi, who on taking it stops weeping.] t’ank!... Have some?... t’ank! [She goes round offering to all in turn in the same words.] Have some?... t’ank!
[Pg 20]
Mrs. O. [Aside to Olangtsi.] ”

“ If you are a naturalist, you paint pink flesh and green trees.
New. Naturally!
Tee. If a luminist,—blue flesh and pink trees.
Han. Certainly!
Tee. If a symbolist,—green flesh and brown trees. If you are a vibrantist you see spots, if a chiaroscurist you see blots, if you are academic you use hard outlines and polished surfaces and call it ‘finish.’
Lil. No, I don’t!
Hiti. Yes, he does!
Tee. If an impressionist you avoid outlines, leave an accidental surface, and call it ‘quality.’ But you all really see exactly alike——
All. We don’t!
Tee. The thing is sometimes to avoid seeing. ”

“ Have you never heard of our son, Yunglangtsi?
Cosi. No.
Mrs. O. Well, I’ll tell you! Seven years ago his future was foretold from the stars. In three years from now he’ll have become the greatest of living artists.
Josi. [Aside.] Don’t you believe it, Coshi.
Cosi. Is he making a living now?
Mrs. O. He’s alive. What more do you want?
Josi. [Aside.] Don’t you believe dat either, Coshi. He’s only half-alive.
Cosi. Can you show me any of his work?
Josi. [Aside.] Dats got ’em!
Mrs. O. No, I can’t,—and for a good enough reason, too. Every picture he paints he sells right away. ”

“ Dat de seclet?
Tiki. Yes.
Mee. Oh, Tiki, you stealin’ de picture?
Tiki. Stealing it? No, silly! I’m only copying it,—just one little bit of it at a time.
Mee. Oh, Tiki, it de velly exact same t’ing!
Tiki. Hah! that’s all you can see! Ah, if only it were! [He begins mixing colours.] I’ve been thinking, Mee-Mee, of what you said to-day, about having to marry Yunglangtsi....
Mee. Yees?
Tiki. Marrying you is going to make him a great artist?
Mee. Dat what de Star say.
Tiki. Well, you know, Mee-Mee, you mayn’t like him—but it must be a fine thing to be the wife of a great artist. ”

“ There! ... that finishes it! ... that’s done, Tikipu, that’s done!
Mee. Oh!
[She begins to sob.
Olang. Don’t cry, Tikipu, it’s no use your crying [Pg 76] like that!... Ah, that’s good, that’s good!—but you mustn’t paint like that any more ... it’s not ... it’s not possible. She won’t let you ... it doesn’t pay.... And if it doesn’t pay, it’s no good!
Josi. No, he’sh right dere: if it doesn’t pay, it’sh no good! You know, little Mish Mee-Mee, you going to have a new master to-day?
Mee. How you know dat? How you know dat?
Josi. ’Cosh I do know:—it’s de right day for it. He knowsh dat too. ”

“ Den you know not’ing, not’ing! You not never be big till you been little first—littler dan me—littler dan de littlest baby dat ever cly fo’ its mammy to come! Yes! ‘Foolish chattling little gels what don’ know not’ing ’bout Art’—dey’s bigger inside dan you know! Dey’s bigger pains—dey’s bigger hearts—dey’s bigger upside-down inside-out altogedder dan anyt’ing you know ’bout. So dere! What you bin done drawn dere have got no eyes in de back of its head,—dat’s what de matter wid dat! It’s too busy ’bout itself!... So’s Mee-Mee,—too busy.... ”

“ You say not’ing to dat. You only be here—let dem find you here, eh? Let dem see you not belong to dem at all. You belong ... all ... to ... yo’self ... because Tiki have fo’gotten you! [She takes phial of poison from her breast.] Goo’-bye, Mee-Mee!... Goo’-bye ... goo’....
[While she is speaking the picture glows slowly into life. Under the rays of the lantern Wiowani is discovered seated, benignant of aspect. He plucks three times upon the [Pg 82] strings of his guitar. At the third sound Mee-Mee’s attention is arrested: she shuffles the poison out of sight and turns her head. ”

“ Say!... Funny picture dat! Mee-Mee, you been asleep?
Mrs. O. [Within.] Now Mee-Mee! Mee-Mee! Mee-Mee!
Mee. Oh! ya-as!
[She skurries round, collects her toilet-materials, and runs into house. Far away bridal music is heard. Within the picture goes a murmur of soft music. Wiowani reappears, leading Tikipu by the hand. Tikipu steps out of the picture as one walking in his sleep.
Wio. So you have come back to the world again! [Pg 86]
There’s dawn beginning white against the pane.
What does life look like? Does the dream seem true
Now you have wakened from it, Tikipu? ”

“ A Chinese Studio with windowed walls of woodwork and oil-paper. At back of centre a dais, and behind that a picture showing an interior opening into a garden. In the foreground of the picture appears a hanging lantern, and below it a mandoline and a jar holding a spray of plum-blossom. To the right of the stage a sliding door opens into street: to the left stairs lead upward to interior, forward of that a door also to interior. ”

“ Exit Mee-Mee, Tikipu passes into pantry.
Enter Josi-Mosi and Cosi-Mosi.
Josi. Any one in?... Come in, Coshi.... Dere’sh only de boy! Take a look at de furniture now you’ve got de chance. Dat’s de picture—over dere.... And don’t forget you give me ten per shent on what you make from de introduction, Coshi.
Cosi. That won’t do. ’Tisn’t worth it. Five.
Josi. Coshi, I’m your only broder; shplit de difference and make it nine.
Cosi. What’s the good of your being my brother, when you are so shabby I can’t own you.
Josi. Ugh! Dere ain’t much to choose between you and me for shabbiness, Coshi ”

“ You don’t like Yunglangtsi?
Tiki. [Yawning.] Do you?
Mee. Mm-yah! When he sleep he seem velly nice. Me not like him, plaps, if he wake too much!... Tiki! you ’sleep, too?... Say?—you sittin’ up all las’ night?
Tiki. Sitting up?
Mee. [Nods.] M’m ... she know: she lie awake an’ watch de light, den she go to sleep—plaps: den she wake.... De light still dere.... Tiki! what de matter wid you? [Shakes him.] Is you in love?
Tiki. [Rousing himself.] In lo.... Oh! it’s no use telling you, Mee-Mee; you wouldn’t understand. You are only a woman.
[Pg 27]
Mee. H’m.... Onl’.... Dat velly big only! ... ”

“ Dish will not happen again.
Olang. Ah! ah! ah!
[At the word ‘going’ the picture comes dimly to life. In a veiled indistinctness Wiowani [Pg 103] is seen seated within it. Olangsti sees, and lifting his hands wails despairingly. The crowd stares, stolidly amazed.
Crier. [Without.] Only ten sen! Only ten sen!
Josi. Well?... What for you shtaring at me? I am not de picture! Dere is de picture: a beautiful picture dat shpeaks for itshelf! A real picture,—wid a shtory in it dat may always come true. What? Will nobody give any more? Very well. At ten sen!—for dish time only—going at ten sen! ”

“ No, I wasn’t crying, Mee-Mee; I was only asleep.... Crying! Ha! [He gets up.] Every one gone?
[Pg 26]
Mee. Yes ... dere’s de to-be-made-dead men jus’ gone by!... Oh, hear! Oh, see! [She runs to door and peeps out. Tikipu crosses to picture and sits gazing at it.] Oh, look, Tiki! dere’s a big pig lying asleep out in de street! All de people go by—he not care—he sleep.
Tiki. H’m.... Like Yunglangtsi—eh?
Mee. Oh ... you wicked! Hee, hee, hee! Yes!—he Yunglangsti—just dat!... [To the pig outside.] Say! You waitin’ for yo’ little wife to come? Plaps she mally some one else while you waitin’, eh? ”

“ It will be the occasion for a fresh lecture, as thus: ‘Gentlemen-pupils, apprentices, and paid workmen....’
[Pg 5]
New. Unpaid workmen, you mean.
Hiti. Sh! ‘Your immediate and polite attention.—’ (At the word ‘attention’ you will lay down your brushes, fold your hands submissively, and wait.) ‘In the instruction which it has been my honourable privilege to bestow all these years on your stubbornly benighted intelligences—’ (At these words you bow your heads) [hits fellow-student over head with a mahl-stick] (as an acknowledgment of what unprofitable Stick-in-the-muds you all are.) ... ”

“ Do you think that I am not going to pay you?
[The two students, Hiti-Titi and Nau-Tee, look on grinning.
Han. No ... on the contrary—we think that you are!
Olang. You shall be paid to-night.
Tee. It will then be the Feast, during which, as [Pg 22] Affluence is no doubt honourably aware, no legal debt is recoverable. Mr. Olangtsi, labour itself is pleasing to us, but the needful is also necessary. How can we feast if our pockets be empty? ”

“ Yung. I was made to, Mee-Mee: mother made me ... so did my father.... I don’t belong to myself, Mee-Mee.... I’m a human sacrifice.
Mee. Dey look mos’ mos’ beautiful!... You jus’ like a big lantern all on fire!... When you go in de procession—all de little bat-moths and bobby-howlers fly up agen you—so!—and burn deyselves fo’ dey know where dey are! Hee, hee!
Yung. Do you think that funny, Mee-Mee?
Mee. Rader funny, don’t you t’ink?
Yung. You are very silly, Mee-Mee.
Mee. Ya-as, me velly silly—me know dat! Not evellybody so gleat wise person as Mr. Yunglangtsi. H’m? H’m? ”

“ You round dere?... Right in dere? [Turns it.] ’Course I is!—She in dere all de time! Catch her not? [She starts playing bo-peep with herself.] No ... no ... she dere, I say she dere!... He say once—he say, ‘silly lill’ gel know not’ing ’bout art!’ Ah, ha! Himself he know not’ing, not’ing—at all!... Himself!... Tiki, dat went away and never come back!
[She produces from hiding-place the shoes which Tikipu left behind.
[Sings.]
Mee-Mee, Mee-Mee know not where
He gone. He gone!
He not here! He not dere! [She looks into her powder boxes and at the shoes.
[Pg 81]
No use looking anywhere! ”