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AN UNPUBLISHED DRAMA.

I.

ROME.—A Hall in a Palace. ALESSANDRA and CASTIGLIONE

Alessandra.     Thou art sad, Castiglione.

Castiglione.    Sad!—not I.
                Oh, I’m the happiest, happiest man in Rome!
                A few days more, thou knowest, my Alessandra,
                Will make thee mine. Oh, I am very happy!

Aless.          Methinks thou hast a singular way of showing
                Thy happiness—what ails thee, cousin of mine?
                Why didst thou sigh so deeply?

Cas.            Did I sigh?
                I was not conscious of it. It is a fashion,
                A silly—a most silly fashion I have
                When I am very happy. Did I sigh? (sighing.)

Aless.          Thou didst. Thou art not well. Thou hast indulged
                Too much of late, and I am vexed to see it.
                Late hours and wine, Castiglione,—these
                Will ruin thee! thou art already altered—
                Thy looks are haggard—nothing so wears away
                The constitution as late hours and wine.

Cas. (musing ). Nothing, fair cousin, nothing—
                Not even deep sorrow—
                Wears it away like evil hours and wine.
                I will amend.

Aless.          Do it! I would have thee drop
                Thy riotous company, too—fellows low born
                Ill suit the like of old Di Broglio’s heir
                And Alessandra’s husband.

Cas.            I will drop them.

Aless.          Thou wilt—thou must. Attend thou also more
                To thy dress and equipage—they are over plain
                For thy lofty rank and fashion—much depends
                Upon appearances.

Cas.            I’ll see to it.

Aless.          Then see to it!—pay more attention, sir,
                To a becoming carriage—much thou wantest
                In dignity.

Cas.            Much, much, oh, much I want
                In proper dignity.

Aless.
(haughtily).     Thou mockest me, sir!

Cos.
(abstractedly).  Sweet, gentle Lalage!

Aless.          Heard I aright?
                I speak to him—he speaks of Lalage?
                Sir Count!
       (places her hand on his shoulder)
                           what art thou dreaming?
                He’s not well!
                What ails thee, sir?

Cas.(starting). Cousin! fair cousin!—madam!
                I crave thy pardon—indeed I am not well—
                Your hand from off my shoulder, if you please.
                This air is most oppressive!—Madam—the Duke!

Enter Di Broglio.

Di Broglio.     My son, I’ve news for thee!—hey!
              —what’s the matter?
        (observing Alessandra).
                I’ the pouts? Kiss her, Castiglione! kiss her,
                You dog! and make it up, I say, this minute!
                I’ve news for you both. Politian is expected
                Hourly in Rome—Politian, Earl of Leicester!
                We’ll have him at the wedding. ’Tis his first visit
                To the imperial city.

Aless.          What! Politian
                Of Britain, Earl of Leicester?

Di Brog.        The same, my love.
                We’ll have him at the wedding. A man quite young
                In years, but gray in fame. I have not seen him,
                But Rumor speaks of him as of a prodigy
                Pre-eminent in arts, and arms, and wealth,
                And high descent. We’ll have him at the wedding.

Aless.          I have heard much of this Politian.
                Gay, volatile and giddy—is he not,
                And little given to thinking?

Di Brog.        Far from it, love.
                No branch, they say, of all philosophy
                So deep abstruse he has not mastered it.
                Learned as few are learned.

Aless.          ’Tis very strange!
                I have known men have seen Politian
                And sought his company. They speak of him
                As of one who entered madly into life,
                Drinking the cup of pleasure to the dregs.

Cas.            Ridiculous! Now I have seen Politian
                And know him well—nor learned nor mirthful he.
                He is a dreamer, and shut out
                From common passions.

Di Brog.        Children, we disagree.
                Let us go forth and taste the fragrant air
                Of the garden. Did I dream, or did I hear
                Politian was a melancholy man?

                (Exeunt.)




II.

ROME.—A Lady’s Apartment, with a window open and looking into a garden.
LALAGE, in deep mourning, reading at a table on which lie some books and
a hand-mirror. In the background JACINTA (a servant maid) leans
carelessly upon a chair.


Lalage.         Jacinta! is it thou?

Jacinta
(pertly).        Yes, ma’am, I’m here.

Lal.            I did not know, Jacinta, you were in waiting.
                Sit down!—let not my presence trouble you—
                Sit down!—for I am humble, most humble.

Jac. (aside).   ’Tis time.

(Jacinta seats herself in a side-long manner upon the chair, resting
her elbows upon the back, and regarding her mistress with a contemptuous
look. Lalage continues to read.)

Lal.            “It in another climate, so he said,
                Bore a bright golden flower, but not i’ this soil!”

         (pauses—turns over some leaves and resumes.)

                “No lingering winters there, nor snow, nor shower—
                But Ocean ever to refresh mankind
                Breathes the shrill spirit of the western wind”
                Oh, beautiful!—most beautiful!—how like
                To what my fevered soul doth dream of Heaven!
                O happy land! (pauses) She died!—the maiden died!
                O still more happy maiden who couldst die!
                Jacinta!

        (Jacinta returns no answer, and Lalage presently resumes.)

                Again!—a similar tale
                Told of a beauteous dame beyond the sea!
                Thus speaketh one Ferdinand in the words of the play—
                “She died full young”—one Bossola answers him—
                “I think not so—her infelicity
                Seemed to have years too many”—Ah, luckless lady!
                Jacinta! (still no answer.)
                Here’s a far sterner story—
                But like—oh, very like in its despair—
                Of that Egyptian queen, winning so easily
                A thousand hearts—losing at length her own.
                She died. Thus endeth the history—and her maids
                Lean over her and keep—two gentle maids
                With gentle names—Eiros and Charmion!
                Rainbow and Dove!—Jacinta!

Jac.
(pettishly).    Madam, what is it?

Lal.            Wilt thou, my good Jacinta, be so kind
                As go down in the library and bring me
                The Holy Evangelists?

Jac.            Pshaw!

                (Exit)

Lal.            If there be balm
                For the wounded spirit in Gilead, it is there!
                Dew in the night time of my bitter trouble
                Will there be found—”dew sweeter far than that
                Which hangs like chains of pearl on Hermo
betterdays Mar 2014
Ethel echidna
had a date wid Pike,
a fiiine!
young hedgehog
who be doin' the backpack

she got n' egg
ya see bout a rave
up in the mountains
in a black cathederic cave
doof doof in the dandenongs

d' message said
up dee track
where the ding dongs
don't dare follow
round d' hollow n'
up the back

Ethel she preened
and she polished
the dreds down her back,
clickety, click, clack.
painted her claws
a fetching shade
of orange neon
all watched on by
Pike the backpack peon

then to the doof
dey departed
at a fast shuffel
leaving behin
barely a ruffle
in the burrowed air
they followed
d'directions to
d' right section
dis dey knew
by d' sound of
d' massive party
goin down

on payin d' dosh n'
getten d' mark
off dey went
inta the fray
***** boy mumbled
"woyhoy gotcha!"
when he saw who
was providin
the goodmuse vibing
up ona stage
Jagger the emu
was a struttin'
with Ringo the dingo
on drums an bongos
while Hendrix
the numbat riffed d' strat
an  Entwhistle
d'frogmouthed owl
grooved on his gibson
wid ***** left stage staring

Ethel got bizzy
check'n out the dancefloor
lookin for bling or moves wid a sting
perhaps a little ******* headbangin

well down
at the southdoor
trouble was brewin'
foul words
was spewin between
d magpie n seagull crews
till the bouncers,
kanga & roo
hustled dem
all outside for a brew

up near the stacks
Pheobe the lizard
was flashin
a matchin
frill n grill ensemble
while Stan, her man
was fillin his bill
at the buffet table
as only a pelican can
at the grub bar
sat the kookaburra trio
Max,Tom, Deccy
havin a speccy
at tha lady
cockatoos n' galahs,
givina chuckle
at the bruhaha
they had created
comin flyin from
near n' far to this
surberb n spectacular
festival of fauna
"tho hot as a sauna
best dis year sofah"

jus inside
d' recovery corner sat
Horn a blue tongue lizard
feelin a bit pukey n' flat
den dere was
Kayla n' Jac
a pair o koalas
who now be zonin
from d eucalyptus
dey been a chewen
alldayz

outaback time it's awastin
with dis watchin n waitin

Ethel hit the floor
wherever
she booggied,
grooved or h-banged
she got a big crowd,
given her ground
to shake
her dreds around
cause dat girl
is dangerous
wid her dredlocks man,
to which Zach
the one eyed wombat
can well attest

Now not bein a dancer
***** got lonely
so looked upa chat
with the rest
of d' backpackin crowd
he swapped recipes
for green brownies wit
Boomer the orangatang,
harvest spots wit
Goth the friutbat,
Hamish de otter,
quiet de globetrotter,
did giv ***** some tips
about surfin rips
furder down de coast.

so dey shimmyed
an dey shammyed,
dey talked
an dey squawked
till d' old sun
came out to play
den dey wandered
and dey wended
back down
d' track to d' town
to sleep d' day away.

as to our Ethel
and *****,
well
dey crawled
gingerly
inta their bed,
they cuddled
an dey clicked,
dey kissed
an dey snicked
and dey
blew dey
selfs away
stone the bear Oct 2016
jac, i'm blue,
i see no light
i can't even recall
the feeling of fright.
my sight
is lost
i'm in a trance
i tried my best,
but boy i can't dance.

he beat me blue,
jac, he knew.
He knew the end
had to destroy everything
we once grew.

that was the only way
to get away.
fly away
far
far
away.

my love for you may not stray
but me? i will, could not, truly stay.
Euphrosyne  Feb 2020
Tsino
Euphrosyne Feb 2020
Ako nga pala si jac

Tsino

Mananakop ako
Oo lalagyan na kita ng 9 dash line para wala nang laban ang ibang lalake saken
Kahit magaway pa sila para sayo hatulan pa nila ako masusunod parin ang batas ko

Ganun ka kaganda ganun ka kahalaga
Mga nakaraan **** 'di ka pinahalagahan ngayo'y pinagaagawan subalit! Ngayon andito na ako aagawin na kita sa mga taong hindi nakakakita ng halaga mo kaya gagamitin ko ang isang daang porsyento kong lakas at ilalabas ko ang aking 9 dash line!napaka lakas hindi makakalas

Hindi kita aabusuhin peks man
Aalagaan kita kahit napaka aga palamang
Pasalamat sa diyos na binigay ka sa katulad kong nagmamahal lamang
Napaka laking biyaya na binigay sa akin

Akin ka na!
Oo akin ka na nasakop na kita at wala nang sasakupin pa
Kuntento na ako sa nasakop ko
Kahit maliit ka napakalaki mo pa ring biyaya

Nagsimula lahat ng ito noong napasulyap ako sa ganda mo
Nakita kita sa isang silid ng isang paaralan
Sa dinami dami ng taong nakatayo sayo lang luminaw ang mga mata ko
Nasilaw ako sa ngiti **** taglay

Doon palang nahulog na ako

Pagkatapos kitang nakita sinundan kita kada araw na nakikita kita na nass malayo palamang
Sa oras na pslapit ka na saken hindi ko na alam sssbsihin ko
Pano kung ganito pano kapag ganyan
Paano pano papano nga ba masasabi sayo na ako nga pala yung sumusunod sayo ng tingin na parang may gagawin sayo

Joke

Oo may gagawin ako
Nanakawin ko lang naman ang puso mo
Ang pinagkaiba lang naman sa ibang magnanakaw
Hindi kita iiwan sasamahan pa kita hanggang dulo

Ako yung tsinong imumulat ang mata
Yung makikita ang iyong halaga
Na di ka papabayaan mawala
At lagi kang aalagaan parang bata

Nakakasilaw ang iyong ganda
Nakakagulat ka
Nakatulala lang ako kanina
Mamaya napanganga na

Kaya wag kang mawala
Bahala ka mawawalan ka pa
Minsan lang naman manakop ang isang tulad ko sinta
Kaya kung ako sayo itago mo na

Mga pangakong sinabe
Hinding hindi mapapako
Dahil sa dyamanteng katulad mo
Hindi na dapat sayangin pa

Ako yung mananakop pero ikaw ang saki'y sumakop
Wala ni isang sandatang dala ngunit umaatras ako sa pag-abante mo
Sa laban na ito, ikaw pala ang siyang mananalo
Ako nga pala 'yung tsinong nabihag ng isang dalagang filipinang katulad mo.
Sinulat ko ito para sa isang contest

Talo ako HAHAHA

May two sides to nasainyo nalang kung anong side yung iisipin niyo happy reading :>>
Lvice Jun 2017
(A poem over a few thousand miles)
by JAC and JAB

Distance and I can never agree.

We were together, but thousands of miles apart
It was a creation between the both of us
And somehow the words created this "we".


We who are strangers, sharing only words
We who are nervous, for words are our souls
Distance and I can never agree
But distance and words, maybe we'll see.

Bearing words across the world
Souls across the distance
Some stranger seeking peace?
Distance wouldn't know
It never agrees.


Distance is as short as words are instant
When one soul thinks, another waits
Strangers are strangers until they share souls
So is distance just a stranger's mind?

Questions that would linger in the depth of some unsure mind,
Once they were doubts, but now I’ve made them mine.
This stranger is no stranger, well before he met me
But then again, his time wasn't always free.


We all have strangers, that were and were not
always strangers to distance -
So this time, distance's differences aside
Stranger or not, I'll confide.
This is a collaboration between the poet JAC, and myself. I adore your poetry, and working on this poem with you was wonderful!
Have a wonderful day!
JAC  Jun 2017
In Memories II
JAC Jun 2017
(A poem over a few thousand miles)
by JAC and JAB

We never age in memories,
But in stories, we do.
Our words mature with us,
So our stories do too.

Our days grow older
And our pages unfold,
Until we become the author
*Living a story untold.
Italics by JAB.
stone the bear Jan 2019
the unfamiliar caterpillar
woke to the day
but it was all new
nothing the same way.

why would he stay?
when his body was sore
he woke up on new years
and his fears no longer bore

with his shed of a past life
everything is strife.
but with wings,
every little thing
gleams and feels
right.

right.

right then left then right again.
there you are, my friend.
Happy new year.

-Jac + mac
Thank you, Jac.
Lvice  Jun 2017
Archive Mind
Lvice Jun 2017
(A Thousand-Mile Poem)
by JAC and JAB

I went hunting for history
Between the walls of a house
Peeking through its windows
In case its eyes went without.
Collecting the shadows
From shelves under his eyes
The storage room was full,
His heart heavy with lies.


Archive mind afloat with mystery
Memories and history
Saving me a seat
At the back of the library.

Reading through aisles of empty thoughts
I've known him since that moment.
The memory he nearly forgot,
He still carries a rusting watch
*The watch and time, no longer friends
Rust and poison, a story again
The archive mind begins and ends
At the touch of the forgotten face.
Another poem with the poet JAC! His work is in italics!!
Lovely working the Thousand-Mile Poetry Collection with you!!
Lvice  Jul 2017
Prelude to Home
Lvice Jul 2017
A Thousand-Mile Poem with JAC

I've only ever
lived here
Unless you count
the dozens of
people I've ever called home.

*But then again,
Home
Never
Leaves you.
The Poet JAC's work is in italics!!!
By now you know
'twas me who met you in your dreams
clothed and masked, costumed
just as you please
to make you believe
you had a chance
to guide me through the tunnels
of your rapidly deteriorating brain
overestimated with dark magic
you'd hoped, I'm sure
to cast a green cat's eye curse on me
make me aware of the need
the seed of obedience I pledged to you
but you want to rob me of my thoughts
Benadryl-blunted, spells like a 4th grader
I'll give up my thoughts to you
I'll let you camp out in the vacancy of soul
stuffed to the brim  
with your stupid ambitions
rest easy now, it was me
she is exactly what she told you she was
a ghost, a phantom
more than you asked for
more than you needed

Now I hope you run away
just as fast and long until I can no longer see tracks
you may entertain fanciful notions that I will hunt you down, everything will be alright

I'm out of this picture too
I will not
forget the night I wanted to take you to see Springsteen.
I confess,my devotion for "the Boss" isn't nearly as characterized by middle school level devotion

I lied to my family
I lied to my friends
I lied to my lover
and I lost her

Is it really so hard to stop lying? Is your life really so pathetic and insecure you have to lie about this?

Poet step to the door
you get *** for tat
the two of you step through
inevitable I was going down
just as inevitably she was going down

So they made the best of it
he tore a long strip of skin from her bare back
placed it in his mouth and chewed like jerky.

"You helped, Jac, you really helped me.
"Get out of my house liar,"
"You weren't even real."

— The End —