قراءة كتاب King Lear's Wife; The Crier by Night; The Riding to Lithend; Midsummer-Eve; Laodice and Danaë
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اللغة: English
King Lear's Wife; The Crier by Night; The Riding to Lithend; Midsummer-Eve; Laodice and Danaë
الصفحة رقم: 1
KING · LEAR'S · WIFE
THE · CRIER · BY · NIGHT
THE · RIDING · TO · LITHEND
MIDSUMMER-EVE
LAODICE · AND · DANAË
PLAYS · BY · GORDON
BOTTOMLEY
BOSTON
SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
MADE AND PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND GRIGGS (PRINTERS), LTD. AT THE
CHISWICK PRESS, TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.
CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND GRIGGS (PRINTERS), LTD. AT THE
CHISWICK PRESS, TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.
CONTENTS
| PAGE | |
| King Lear's Wife | 1 |
| The Crier by Night | 49 |
| The Riding To Lithend | 81 |
| Midsummer Eve | 131 |
| Laodice and Danaë | 169 |
| Appendix a (king Lear's Wife) | 207 |
| Appendix B (the Crier by Night) | 211 |
Note.—Throughout the stage-directions in the following pages the words "right" and "left" are used with reference to the actor's right and left, not the spectator's.
"REMEMBER THE
LIFE OF THESE
THINGS CONSISTS
IN ACTION."
JOHN MARSTON: 1606.
LIFE OF THESE
THINGS CONSISTS
IN ACTION."
JOHN MARSTON: 1606.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
The plays here collected were originally published separately at various dates during the past eighteen years, and are now brought together for the first time. The details of the previous issues, now for the most part out of print, are appended.
I. The Crier by Night. (1900.) Published by the Unicorn Press, London, 1902. 32 pp. Quarto, boards. 500 copies.
II. Midsummer Eve. (1901-2.) Printed and published at the Pear Tree Press, South Harting, near Petersfield, 1905, with decorations by James Guthrie. iv+ 36 pp. Large post 8vo, boards. 120 copies.
III. Laodice and Danaë. (1906.) Printed for private circulation, 1909. iv + 26 pp. Royal 8vo, wrappers. 150 copies.
IV. The Riding To Lithend. (1907.) Printed and published at the Pear Tree Press, Flansham near Bognor, 1909, with decorations by James Guthrie. vi + 40pp. Foolscap 4to, boards. 120 copies (20 of which had an extra plate and were hand-coloured.)
V. King Lear's Wife. (1911-13.) Published in "Georgian Poetry, 1913-1915," pp. 1 to 47. The Poetry Bookshop, London, 1915.
The Crier by Night, The Riding to Lithend, and Laodice and Danaë have been reprinted in the United States of America, the first in 1909, the second in two separate forms in 1910, the third in 1916.
NOTE
Applications for permission to perform these plays in Great Britain and the Colonies should be addressed to the author, care of Messrs. Constable and Co. Ltd., 10-12 Orange Street, Leicester Square, London, W.C.2; and in the United States of America to Mr. Paul R. Reynolds, 70 Fifth Avenue, New York.
King Lear's Wife is copyright by Gordon Bottomley in the United States of America, 1915.
KING LEAR'S WIFE
TO T. STURGE MOORE
THE years come on, the years go by,
And in my Northern valley I,
Withdrawn from life, watch life go by.
But I have formed within my heart
A state that does not thus depart,
Richer than life, greater than being,
Truer in feeling and in seeing
Than outward turbulence can know;
Where time is still, like a large, slow
And lofty bird that moves her wings
In far, invisible flutterings
To gaze on every part of space
Yet poise for ever in one place;
Where line and sound, colour and phrase
Rebuild in clear, essential ways
The powers behind the veil of sense;
While tragic things are made intense
By passion brooding on old dread,
Till a faint light of beauty shed
From night-enfolded agony
Shews in the ways men fail and die
The deeps whose knowledge never cloys
But, striking inward without voice,
Stirs me to tremble and rejoice.
For twenty years and more than twenty
I have found my riches and my plenty
In poets dead and poets living,
Painters and music-men, all giving,
By life shut in creative deeds,
Live force and insight to my needs;
And long before I came to stand
And hear your voice and touch your hand
In that great treasure-house new-known,
Where in their tower above the Town
The masters of The Dial sit,
I loved in every word of it
Your finely tempered verse that told me
Of patient power, and still can hold me
By its authentic divination
Of the right knowledge of creation,
Its grave, still beauty brought to day
Tissue by tissue in nature's way,
Petal by petal sure to shew
Imagination's quiet glow
That burns intenseliest at the core.
And through that twenty years and more
I have been envious of your reach
In speaking form and plastic speech,
Your double energy of hand
That puts two arts at your command
While I must be content with one
And feel true life but half begun;
So that by graver as by pen
You can create earth, stars, and men,
And prove yourself by more than rime
A prince of poets in our
And in my Northern valley I,
Withdrawn from life, watch life go by.
But I have formed within my heart
A state that does not thus depart,
Richer than life, greater than being,
Truer in feeling and in seeing
Than outward turbulence can know;
Where time is still, like a large, slow
And lofty bird that moves her wings
In far, invisible flutterings
To gaze on every part of space
Yet poise for ever in one place;
Where line and sound, colour and phrase
Rebuild in clear, essential ways
The powers behind the veil of sense;
While tragic things are made intense
By passion brooding on old dread,
Till a faint light of beauty shed
From night-enfolded agony
Shews in the ways men fail and die
The deeps whose knowledge never cloys
But, striking inward without voice,
Stirs me to tremble and rejoice.
For twenty years and more than twenty
I have found my riches and my plenty
In poets dead and poets living,
Painters and music-men, all giving,
By life shut in creative deeds,
Live force and insight to my needs;
And long before I came to stand
And hear your voice and touch your hand
In that great treasure-house new-known,
Where in their tower above the Town
The masters of The Dial sit,
I loved in every word of it
Your finely tempered verse that told me
Of patient power, and still can hold me
By its authentic divination
Of the right knowledge of creation,
Its grave, still beauty brought to day
Tissue by tissue in nature's way,
Petal by petal sure to shew
Imagination's quiet glow
That burns intenseliest at the core.
And through that twenty years and more
I have been envious of your reach
In speaking form and plastic speech,
Your double energy of hand
That puts two arts at your command
While I must be content with one
And feel true life but half begun;
So that by graver as by pen
You can create earth, stars, and men,
And prove yourself by more than rime
A prince of poets in our