Here's more damned competition! (Curtain.)

A BAD NIGHT

DRAMATIS PERSON?.

VILLIAM a Sen

NEEDLESON a Sidniduc

SMILER a Scheister

KI-YI a Trader

GRIMGHAST a Spader

SARALTHIA a Love-lorn Nymph

NELLIBRAC a Sweetun

A BODY; A GHOST; AN UNMENTIONABLE THING; SKULLS; HOODOOS; ETC.

Scene—a Cemetery in San Francisco.

Saralthia, Nellibrac, Grimghast.

SARALTHIA:

The red half-moon is dipping to the west, And the cold fog invades the sleeping land. Lo! how the grinning skulls in the level light Litter the place! Methinks that every skull Is a most lifelike portrait of my Sen, Drawn by the hand of Death; each fleshless pate, Cursed with a ghastly grin to eyes unrubbed With love's magnetic ointment, seems to mine To smile an amiable smile like his Whose amiable smile I—I alone Am able to distinguish from his leer! See how the gathering coyotes flit Through the lit spaces, or with burning eyes Star the black shadows with a steadfast gaze! About my feet the poddy toads at play, Bulbously comfortable, try to hop, And tumble clumsily with all their warts; While pranking lizards, sliding up and down My limbs, as they were public roads, impart A singularly interesting chill. The circumstance and passion of the time, The cast and manner of the place—the spirit Of this confederate environment, Command the rights we come to celebrate Obedient to the Inspired Hag— The seventh daughter of the seventh daughter, Who rules all destinies from Minna street, A dollar a destiny. Here at this grave, Which for my purposes thou, Jack of Spades—                (To Grimghast) Corrupter than the thing that reeks below— Hast opened secretly, we'll work the charm. Now what's the hour?                  (Distant clock strikes thirteen.)                  Enough—hale forth the stiff! (Grimghast by means of a boat-hook stands the coffin on end in the excavation; the lid crumbles, exposing the remains of a man.) Ha! Master Mouldybones, how fare you, sir?

THE BODY:

Poorly, I thank your ladyship; I miss Some certain fingers and an ear or two. There's something, too, gone wrong with my inside, And my periphery's not what it was. How can we serve each other, you and I?

NELLIBRAC:

O what a personable man! (Blushes bashfully, drops her eyes and twists the corner of her apron.)

SARALTHIA:

                            Yes, dear, A very proper and alluring male, And quite superior to Lubin Rroyd, Who has, however, this distinct advantage— He is alive.

GRIMGHAST:

                  Missus, these yer remains Was the boss singer back in '72, And used to allers git invites to go Down to Swellmont and sing at every feed. In t'other Villiam's time, that was, afore The gent that you've hooked onto bought the place.
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