The P u p p e t T h e a t r e

by Aleksander Blok
Dedicated to Vsevoled Emilevich Meierkhol'd
Translated by Lucy Vogel
 The Puppet Theatre
by Aleksander Blok
Dedicated to Vsevoled Emilevich Meierkhol'd
Translated by Lucy Vogel

Dramatis Personae

Columbine
Pierrot
Harlequin
Mystics of both sexes, in frock coats and fashionable dresses.
Later in masks and masquerade costumes.
The Host of the Mystical Seance
Three Pairs of Lovers
A Clown
The Author

(An ordinary stage setting: a three-walled room, a window and a

door. Mystics of both sexes, in frock coats and fashionable
d r e s s e s , a r e s i t t i n g a t a s p o t l i g h t e d t a b l e in i n t e n s e
concentration. Somewhat apart, by the window, sits Pierrot in a
white loose s h i r t a n d pantaloons. He h a s no eyebrows or
moustache and looks dreamy, upset and pale as all Pierrots. The
Mystics remain silent for some time.)

FIRST MYSTIC

Are you listening?

SECOND MYSTIC

I am.

THIRD MYSTIC

It's about to happen.

 PIERROT

Oh, eternal horror, eternal darkness!

FIRST MYSTIC

Are you waiting?

SECOND MYSTIC

I am waiting.

THIRD MYSTIC

It's any moment now.

The wind outside h a s given us the signal.

PIERROT

Faithless one! Where are you? Along sleepy streets

Runs a long chain of street lamps
And lovers stroll in pairs
Warmed by the glow of their love.
But where are you? Why can't we too
Follow the last pairs into the fated circle?
I'll go strum my sad guitar under the window
Where you and your friends are dancing!
I'll rouge my pale, dreamy face,
I'll draw on eyebrows, I'll glue on a moustache.
Can't you hear, Columbine, how my poor heart
Hums and h u m s its mournful tune?

(Carried away by his dreams, Pierrot becomes more animated.

From behind the curtain crawls out the worried AUTHOR.)

AUTHOR

W h a t is he saying? Most esteemed audience! I h a s t e n to assure

you t h a t this actor has cruelly made sport of my authorial rights.
The action takes place in Petersburg, in the winter. What's all
this talk of windows and guitars? I did not write my drama for the
puppet t h e a t r e . . . I assure y o u . . . .

(Then, suddenly embarrassed by his own unplanned appearance,

he hides again behind the curtain.)

PIERROT (All this time, unaware of

the AUTHOR's presence, he has been sitting, sighing dreamily.)

Columbine!

FIRST MYSTIC

Are you listening?

SECOND NYSRTIC

I am.

THIRD MYSTIC

A maiden from a distant land is approaching.

FIRST MYSTIC

Oh, her features are like marble!

SECOND MYSTIC

Oh, h e r eyes have a vacant stare!

THIRD MYSTIC

Oh, what purity, what whiteness!

FIRST MYSTIC

She will come and at once a hush will fall.

SECOND MYSTIC

Yes, silence will ensue.

 THIRD MYSTIC

For long?

FIRST MYSTIC

Yes.

SECOND MYSTIC

She is all white, as white as snow.

THIRD MYSTIC

There is a scythe over h e r shoulder.

FIRST MYSTIC

Who could she be?

(Leaning over, the SECOND MYSTIC whispers something in the

ear of the FIRST MYSTIC.)

SECOND MYSTIC

You won't betray me, will you?

FIRST MYSTIC (Genuinely horrified.)

Never!

(Once again the AUTHOR sticks out his head in panic, b u t

quickly disappears, as if someone h a d pulled him back by his
coat-tails.)

PIERROT (Dreamily, like before.)

Columbine! Come!
 FIRST MYSTIC

Quiet! Don't you h e a r footsteps?

SECOND MYSTIC

I h e a r rustling and sighs.

THIRD MYSTIC

Oh, who's in our midst?

FIRST MYSTIC

Who's a t the window?

SECOND MYSTIC

Who's a t the door?

THIRD MYSTIC

It's pitch dark. Can't see anything.

FIRST MYSTIC

Let's have some light. Is it She who has come at this hour?

(The SECOND MYSTIC holds up a candle. Quite unexpectedly,

and as though out of nowhere, an unusually, beautiful young
woman appears a t the table. Her simple, serene face is of an
opaque whiteness. She is dressed in white. Her tranquil eyes gaze
dispassionately. Her hair falls in a braid down her shoulder.
The young woman stands motionless. An ecstatic PIERROT
worshipfully falls to his knees. One can see t h a t t e a r s are
choking him. Words fail him.
The MYSTICS shrink back in their chairs in terror. The leg
of one of them dangles helplessly. Another Mystic makes strange
movements with his arms, a third rolls his eyes. After a while the
regain their composure and speak in audible whispers.)
- S h e has come!
- H o w white h e r garments!
- A vacant stare in h e r eyes!
- H e r features, pale like marble!
- A scythe down h e r shoulder!
- I t ' s death!

(PIERROT h e a r s them. Slowly rising, he walks up to the young

woman, takes h e r by the h a n d and leads h e r centerstage. His
voice is clear and joyful like the first peal of a bell.)

PIERROT

Ladies and Gentlemen! You are mistaken! It's Columbine! It's

my bride!

(General panic. The MYSTICS throw up their hands. Their coat-

tails rise up. The HOST of the seance jubilantly approaches
PIERROT.)

HOST

You have lost your wits. All evening long we have been waiting
for something momentous and finally it has come to pass. She
has come to u s - t h e silent Deliverer. Death has called on us.

PIERROT (In a ringing, childlike voice.)

I pay no attention to fairy tails. I am a simple man. You won't

fool me. This is Columbine. This is my Betrothed.

HOST

Ladies and Gentlemen! Fear h a s driven our poor friend out of his
mind. He h a s never given a thought to what we have spent our
entire life preparing for.; He has not plumbed the depths and he
h a s not readied himself humbly to meet the Pale Friend a t the
final hour. Let us m a g n a n i m o u s l y forgive this simple soul.
(Addressing PIERROT.) Brother, you can't stay here, you would
be disturbing our last supper. But please do take one more look at
her: see how white h e r garments are, how pale h e r features; oh,
she is as white as snow on mountain peaks! A mirror-like void is
reflected in h e r eyes. Can't you see the scythe down her shoulder?
Don't you recognize Death?

PIERROT
(A helpless smile glides over his pale face.)

I am leaving. Either you are right and I am a poor lunatic, or you

are not in your r i g h t mind a n d I am a lone, misunderstood
dreamer. Oh, snowstorm, sweep me along through streets and
streets! Oh, endless anguish! Endless gloom!

COLUMBINE
(Follows PIERROT to the exit.)

I shall not leave you.

(PIERROT stops, perplexed. The HOST extends his h a n d s

imploringly.)

HOST

Ethereal vision! All our lives we have been waiting for you!
Forsake us not!

(A slender youth in Harlequin costume appears. The little bells

he wears jingle in silvery voices.)

HARLEQUIN
(Walks up to Columbine)

I am waiting for you at the crossroads, my dear,

In the grey dusk of a wintry day!
My blizzard is singing above you so clear.
For you its bells ring and play!

(He puts his h a n d on PIERROT's shoulder. PIERROT falls flat

on his back and lies motionless in his white garb. HARLEQUIN
takes COLUMBINE by the h a n d and leads her off. She smiles at
him. General let-down. All the mystics slump lifelessly in their
chairs. The sleeves of their frock-coats h a n g limply covering
their hands so t h a t they seem to have no hands at all. Their heads
sink into their collars. It is as though only empty frock-coats were
draped over the chairs. Suddenly PIERROT jumps up and runs
off stage. The curtain closes. At t h a t moment the AUTHOR,
frantic and dishevelled runs out on the proscenium.)

AUTHOR

Dear Ladies a n d Gentlemen! Please accept my most humble

apologies, b u t I decline all responsibility. They are making sport
of me! I wrote a most realistic play, the gist of which I feel obliged
to convey to you in a few word: It's about the mutual love of two
young souls. A third party stands in their way, but, finally, all
obstacles vanish a n d the lovers are united forever in lawful
wedlock. I never dressed my characters like clowns! They are
acting out some old legend without my approval! I have no use for
legends, myths or any other such triviality! And least of all for
allegorical word games: it's indecent to call a woman's b r a i d -
the scythe of death. It's an insult to the fair sex! My dear Ladies
and G e n t l e m e n . . .

(A h a n d from behind the curtain grabs the AUTHOR by the

collar. He disappears into the wings shouting. promptly the
curtain reopens. A ball. Masked figures whirl about to the soft
strain of dance music. Other masked f i g u r e s - k n i g h t s , ladies,
clowns stroll among them.
A disconsolate PIERROT sits in the center of the stage on t h a t
same bench where Venus and T a n n h a u s e r usually kiss.)

PIERROT

I was standing between two street lamps

Listening to their words, and their sighs,
Wrapped in their cloaks they whispered,
Night's darkness was kissing their eyes.

All around them the silvery blizzard

Spun a shining wedding band.
Through the darkness I saw t h a t my beloved one Was smiling at
my friend.

And then in a hired sleigh

He seated my love at his side!
I followed behind in the freezing fog
And watched as they went for a ride.

And he entangled her in his nets,

Laughing and jingling his bells!
But after he tucked her i n , -
Face-down in the snow she fell!

My loved one fell flat in the snow,

Though he did nothing to cause h e r distress!
But she wouldn't stand up or sit down! ..
My laughter I couldn't repress! . . .

All around my cardboard love

Frosty icicles whirled as she l a y -
He jingled his bells and leaped in the air
I joined in his dance 'round the sleigh!

And together we sang on the silent streets,

"Misfortune has struck us anew!"
And, from high above, on my cardboard love
Shone a star with a greenish hue.

And th two of us wandered all night

Along snowy streets, sharing our woes,
And so close was his tender embrace
That his feather tickled my nose.

And he whispered to me: "Dear brother, together,

From now on, we will walk side by s i d e . . .
And together we'll grieve for your love
For your poor, for your lost cardboard bride!""

(PIERROT sadly walks away. After a while a pair of lovers is

seen on the same bench on which PIERROT h a d been sitting.
 He is in blue, She in pink; their masks are the color of their
clothes.
They fathom themselves in church and gaze up at the dome.)

SHE

Dear one, you whisper "Lower your g l a n c e . . . "

Leaning back, I gaze at the dome.

HE

I gaze at those ineffable h e i g h t s -

Where the dome glows in the sunset.

SHE

Look above, how ancient the gilding,

How the sacred images glitter.

HE

Our tale is like a gentle dream

Innocently you closed you eyes.

(They kiss.)

SHE

. . . Someone dark is standing by the column

With a cunning wink in his eye!
I am afraid of you, dark lover!
Let me cover myself with your cloak!

(Silence)

HE

Look how still is the candle's glow,

How the sunset frolics in the domes.

SHE
Yes, sweet are our meetings.
So be it: to you I surrender.

(She nestles up to him.)

(The quiet dance of maskers and clowns conceals the first couple
from the audience. A second couple bursts into the dance. In front,
She, in a black mask and a swirling red cloak. Behind, He, a
nimble figure all in black, wearing a red mask and a black
cloak. They move swiftly and impetuously. He pursues her, now
drawing level with her, now overtaking her. A whirling of
cloaks.)

HE

Leave me! Don't torment me, don't pursue me!

Don't h a u n t me with your prophesies of doom!
You are celebrating victory! Will you remove your mask?
Or will you vanish into the night?

SHE

Follow me! Overtake me!

I am more passionate and sadder than your bride!
Take me into your supple arms!
Drain my dark goblet dry!

HE

I pledged my love and passion to another!

You flashed a fiery glance at me,
You lured me into a dark alley,
You poisoned me with deadly venom!

SHE

It wasn't I who lured y o u - m y cape '

Swirled 'round me in a w h i r l w i n d - r n y fiery friend!
It was you who chose to step
Into my charmed circle!
 HE

Enchantress, beware, I will remove my mask!

And you'll discover a faceless man!
You erased my features, you lured me into a world of darkness
Where my black double was beckoning me!

SHE

I am a free spirit! Conquest is my goal!

Follow me wherever I may lead!
Follow my fiery trail
And you will share my frenzy

HE

I'll follow you, submissive to my inexorable fate,

Whirl on, red cloak, my fiery guide!
Then three will thread the evil path:
You, I, and my double by my side!

(They vanish in a whirlwind of cloaks. A third figure, barely

discernable, b e a r i n g a striking resemblance to the lover and
shaped like a supple tongue of black flame, breaks away from the
crowd and follows the second couple.
A t h i r d p a i r of lovers emerges from among the dancing
couples. They sit in the middle of the stage.
The Middle Ages. Leaning forward, SHE follows attentively
his movements. HE, a u s t e r e , tall a n d pensive, w e a r i n g a
cardboard helmet, is tracing a circle on the floor in front of h e r
with a huge wooden sword.)

HE

Do you understand this play in which our role is by no means the

least important?

SHE
(Like a soft, yet distinct echo)
Important.

HE

Are you aware t h a t the maskers have made our rendezvous today
wonderful?

SHE

Wonderful.

HE

So you believe me? Oh, today you are more beautiful than ever.

SHE

Ever.

HE

You know all t h a t has been and is yet to be. You have understood
the meaning of the circle I drew.

SHE

Drew.

HE

0 , how captivating are your words! You have divined the secret of
my soul! How much your words tell my heart!

SHE

Heart.

HE

Oh, Eternal Bliss! Eternal Bliss!

SHE
Bliss.

HE
(Sighing with relief and elation.)

The dawn is near! On the wane is this evil night!

SHE

Night.

(At this moment one of the clowns gets it into his head to play a
Prank. He runs up to the lover and sticks out his tongue. The lover
strikes the clown on the head with all his might with his heavy
Wooden sword. The clown leans over the footlights and remains
dangling there. A s t r e a m of cranberry juice spurts from his
head.) .

CLOWN (With a shrill cry.)

Help! I am bleeding cranberry juice.

(After dangling there a while, he gets up and leaves. Noise.

Confusion. T h e n joyful cries: "The torches! The torches! A
Procession of torches!" A chorus carrying torches appears. The
Maskers crowd together, laughing and jumping up and down.)

CHORUS

Drop by drop the resin falls

Softly crackling into the dusk below
Faces hidden by a veil of darkness,
Are now brightened by a dull dim glow!

Drop by drop, spark by spark!

A pure, resinous rain!
Where are you, you shining, swift,
Fiery leader of our train?
(HARLEQUIN steps forward as the leader of the chorus.)

HARLEQUIN

Through sleepy, snowy streets

I dragged the fool along!
My restless eyes espied the world
Above me sang the snowy wind!
Oh, how I yearned in my young breast
To take a deep breath and join that world,
And celebrate the joyous rites of spring
In its barren wasteland!
Here no one dares believe
That spring hovers high above!
Here no one knows how to love
And people live in a joyless dream!
I greet you world! You are again with me!
Your soul has long been close to mine!
I am off to breathe of your springtime
Beyond your golden window!

(He j u m p s through the window. The far-away view seen through

the window, t u r n s out to be painted on paper. The paper rips and
HARLEQUIN falls headlong into the void. All t h a t one can see
through the rip in the paper is the sky turning brighter. Night is
fading away and morning is stealthily approaching. Against the
background of the breaking dawn stands Death with a scythe over
he shoulder, h e r long white shroud faintly swaying in the early
morning breeze and h e r girlish face suffused with a dull pallor.
The scythe's blade has a silvery sheen and resembles an inverted
crescent moon waning in the morning light.
All scatter in terror in various directions. The knight trips
over his wooden sword. The ladies drop their flowers all over the
stage. The masked figures huddle together and stand motionless
as though crucified against the wall, looking like m a n n e q u i n s
from an ethnographic museum. The girls hide their faces in their
lovers' cloaks. The outline of a masker in blue is faintly profiled
against the morning sky. At his feet and pressing h e r lips to his
h a n d is a frightened masker in pink.
 PIERROT, as though emerging from the ground, slowly
crosses the entire stage, his arms outstretched toward Death. As
he approaches her, h e r features began to come alive. A h i n t of
color plays on h e r pale cheeks. The silver scythe fades in the
spreading morning fog. In the niche of the window, against the
background of the dawn, stands a beautiful young woman with a
gentle smile on h e r serene face. It's COLUMBINE.
At t h a t moment, as PIERROT approaches her and is about to
Place his h a n d on hers, the h e a d of the AUTHOR triumphantly
thrusts itself between them.)

AUTHOR

Most distinguished public! My cause is not lost! My rights have

been vindicated. As you can see, all obstacles have been
surmounted! T h a t gentleman fell out the window! Now all t h a t
remains for you to witness is the happy reunion of two lovers after
their long separation! W h a t if they had to go through a lot in order
to overcome all obstacles! Now at last they are united forever!

(The AUTHOR is about to join the hands of COLUMBINE and

PIERROT. But suddenly all the stage props whirl about and fly
upwards. The m a s k e r s disperse.
Only the AUTHOR remains. He leans over PIERROT who,
in his white garb with red pompons, is lying helplessly, all alone
on the empty stage.
Suddenly having realized his situation, the AUTHOR dashes
off the stage.)

PIERROT
(Getting up, speaks plaintively and dreamily)

Where have you led me? How can I guess?

You have abandoned me to treacherous fate.
My poor Pierrot, stop lolling around
Go find yourself a new mate!

(Brief silence)

Oh, how lovely she was, she who left me

(Her jingling friend led h e r away)
She fell (she was made of cardboard).
And so I came to laugh at her.

There she lay face down and all white.

Oh, but our dance was so gay!
But there wasn't a chance t h a t she could get up.
She was a cardboard bride.

So here I stand, a pale-faced clown,

But it's sinful for you to jeer!
W h a t can I do? She fell face d o w n . . .
And I feel so sad. But you're amused, I fear.

(Musingly, PIERROT pulls a small flute from his pocket and

intones a song about his pale face, his h a r d life and his promised
bride, COLUMBINE.)