Poet Lore (Volume 21 ) by Writer's Center
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Author: Writer's Center
Number of Pages: 174 pages
Published Date: 04 Feb 2012
Publisher: General Books
Publication Country: Miami Fl, United States
Language: English
ISBN: 9781235684104
Download Link: Poet Lore (Volume 21 )
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1910. Excerpt: ... VOLUME XXI NOVEMBER-DECEMBER, I9IO NUMBER VI THE CLOUDS (A play in three acts) By Jaroslav Kvapil Translated from the Bohemian by Charles Recht THE CAST Pater Ian Matoush, a village priest. Maya Zemanova, an actress. Petr Kocian, a theological student. Maria Kocianova, his mother, the priest's sister. Dr. Votava, a physician. Scene: A small Bohemian parsonage near the mountains. ACT I Courtyard of a country parsonage. Summer afternoon. Matoush (entering from the outside with his sister).--Well, God willing, by to-morrow night this year's harvest will be all gathered. To-morrow we'll get that piece we have on Zablati finished up, and then we'll thresh it all together. But don't you work so hard, Marianka. To-day it was awfully hot, and you, poor thing, had to work twice as hard. Petr home? 'Copyright, i9Ii, by Charles Recht. All Rights Resetted. Copyright, IQII, by The Poet Lore Company. All Rights Reserved. Kocianova.--No. Soon after dinner he took a book and went somewhere around Zalachi. Matoush.--My old feet don't serve me as well as they used to. I went around to Zablati and it took me a good hour to get home. And I am tired. In other days I would go with the last sacrament a good many miles and would come home as fresh as when I started, but now even such a short walk wearies me. We are getting old, Marianka; we are getting old. And we stand here all alone. Kocianova.--May the Almighty at least reward us with Petr. May He give him His mercy and blessing so he can serve his first mass next year. Matoush (smiling).--And afterwards that he should go a-farming on some godforsaken country parsonage. Is that it? (Sits down on the bench.) Kocianova.--God's will be done. Our old father farmed, my old man farmed, --and both were content. Matoush.--Listen Maria...
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