by S. T. Joshi
Before them, framed by foliage, stands the reverend gentleman of God who will presently link them in indissoluble chains—the estimable rector of the parish. He has got there just in time; it was, indeed, a close shave. But no trace of haste or of anything else of a disturbing character is now visible upon his smooth, glistening, somewhat feverish face. That face is wholly occupied by his official smile, a thing of oil and honey all compact, a balmy, unctuous illumination—the secret of his success in life. Slowly his cheeks puff out, gleaming like soap-bubbles. Slowly he lifts his prayer-book from the prie-dieu and holds it droopingly. Slowly his soft caressing eyes engage it. There is an almost imperceptible stiffening of his frame. His mouth opens with a faint click. He begins to read.
The Ceremony of Marriage has begun.
Heliogabalus:
A Buffoonery in Three Acts
by H. L. Mencken and George Jean Nathan
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
Army Officers, Imperial Guards, Additional Wives of the Emperor, Dancing Girls, Slaves, etc.
ACT I: The atrium in the imperial palace. The night before New Year’s Day, A.D. 221.
ACT II: The imperial bed-chamber. Toward the middle of the year 221.
ACT III: Antechamber and banquet hall in the palace. The evening of the following day.
ACT I
The atrium in the imperial palace on the Palatine Hill. A splendid and even gorgeous apartment, perhaps fifty feet long and twenty broad. The spectator views it from one side, and one of the longitudinal walls thus constitutes the back ground. At the left of the spectator is the arched doorway that leads into the ostium, or entrance hallway. At the right are two doors giving into the peristyle, or garden. In the back are doors opening upon various apartments, among them, a small triclinium or banquet-room.
The atrium has walls of Cipilino marble, and there are ornate pillars supporting each door-frame. In the centre of the floor is a small pool, perhaps six by eight feet, and flush with the floor. Above it, in the ceiling, is a skylight with movable bronze sashes, and gaudy silk blinds beneath. Despite the architectural magnificence of the apartment, its furniture, to modern eyes, seems meagre. To the spectator’s right, between the garden doors, there is a solium—a high, stiff, ungainly chair, very wide, and upholstered in imperial purple, i.e., a colour rather like the crimson of today. In front of the solium stands a very ornate mensa, or table, with a few back less stools. There is nothing more. Light is furnished by Roman lamps on very tall candelabra. The moon filters through the sk ylight.
It is the night before New Year’s Day of the year 221 A.D.
As the curtain rises, HELIOGABALUS’ atriensis, or major-domo, RUFINIUS by name, ushers in the two physicians, PISO and POLORUS. RUFINIUS is a stout Gaul with a full red beard. He wears, of course, no toga, but there are chevrons of imperial purple on the short left sleeve of his tunic. PISO and POLORUS wear the paenula—a long, plain cape, with a hood not unlike a monk’s cowl. PISO’S paenula is black, but POLORUS’ shows the florid colours of a modern bathrobe. PISO is an old man and wears a long while beard; POLORUS is younger and wears his clipped, almost in the Van Dyke manner.
RUFINIUS, as soon as the two doctors have come to anchor by the pool, offers them a salver on which stand two goblets of wine and a dish of peanuts.
RUFINIUS
The Emperor will be out presently. The banquet is just ending.
[From within comes the sound of half-hearted mirth.]
PISO
[Reaching for one of the goblets] Very thoughtful of you, Rufinius: I need it. I was up all night with a confinement case.
POLORUS
[Somewhat sniffishly] Yes, my dear Doctor Piso, they are very tiresome. I’m glad I’ve been able to give them up.
PISO
[Waspishly] Give them up? I, Doctor Polorus, I never give them up! I pull them through.
POLORUS
[Rather floored; apologetically] I don’t mean patients; I mean cases.
PISO
[Put into good humour by the success of his repartee] But I mean neither patients nor cases; I mean husbands.
POLORUS
[Amiably, trying to make peace] I suppose he was drunk, as usual.
PISO
Drunk? His very tears smelt like toddy. You could scarcely call him a husband in alcohol. He was an alcoholic extract of husband.
POLORUS
It’s astounding how much they get down when such things are going on in the house.
PISO
Yes, and the tighter they get, the more they want to kiss the baby. And if you let them do it, then you have two cases of delirium tremens on your hands—father and child. And the mother raising hell.
[Sounds of feeble, somewhat laborious mirth come from the banquet-room]
POLORUS
What do you think of—? [Nodding toward the banquet-room]
[PISO takes a handful of peanuts and munches them during the following, now and then biting into a bad one and spitting it into the pool]
PISO
What is your idea?
POLORUS
It looks simple. I say diabetes.
PISO
Why?
POLORUS
Well, for one thing, he’s always so thirsty. Then, his legs are beginning to trouble him. Thirdly—
PISO
Nonsense! He was born with that thirst. As for his legs, they are simply overworked. The human leg was designed to carry a man, and nothing more. Add his clothes, his conscience, his artillery, and his jewelry, and then pile on a barrel of wine or so every day, and it begins to lose confidence in itself.
POLORUS
The Empress Paula tells me—
PISO
Yes, I know all about the patent medicines he’s swallowed and the quacks he’s had here. There was that Syrian, for instance. He prescribed water-drinking.
POLORUS
She says he couldn’t keep it on his stomach.
PISO
No wonder! I daresay his stomach wondered what it was.
POLORUS
What do you think of proposing?
PISO
Nothing could be simpler. If this were an ordinary man, say you or that fat poinsettia over there, [indicating RUFINIUS] I’d simply put him to bed, give him a good big dose of castor oil, and then send in my bill. Maybe I’d add a mustard plaster, and a gargle in the morning. The next day, repeat the dose. And so on.
PISO
[Uneasily] But surely you’re not going to—?
POLORUS
[Horrified] What! Prescribe castor oil for an emperor? The gods forbid! Where are your professional ethics? Besides, I’ve been in jail, and don’t like it. And when I think of lions in the arena gumming this old epidermis—!
[PAULA enters front the peristyle, and the two physicians, catching sight of her at once, make low bows]
PISO AND POLORUS
Majesty!
PAULA
[To Piso, gushingly] Oh, doctor, I am so glad to see you! I have been so worried!
PISO
[In his best manner] Be calm! This—[indicating POLORUS] is Dr. Polorus, my—[maliciously] assistant. Doctor, you are honoured by the notice of the Empress Paula.
PAULA
[Buttonholing PISO tragically] I surely hope you gentlemen can do something for the poor Emperor. You can’t imagine what I have gone through. I think he’s getting worse all the time. And those awful quacks he has had!
PISO
Yes, I have heard. It’s common gossip.
PAULA
One of them put him on water! Like a horse! [It gradually becomes evident that PAULA, who is about 37 and rather chunky, is somewhat alcoholized and inclined to weep] I thought he would die the first night. I was up the whole night. I wouldn’t let any of the other ladies touch him. I suffered terribly.
[Succumbing to the martyr complex, she sobs boozily on PISO’S shoulder]
PISO
[With professional tact] And what seeme
d to be the symptoms?
PAULA
Just grief, I guess. The love of a pure woman. I still feel very faint.
POLORUS
Perhaps a goblet of wine—
PAULA
[Promptly motioning to RUFINIUS] And you, too. Pardon me for forgetting. I am all worn out. You doctors have to be up all night, and—
PISO
[Reaching for his goblet] People simply will send for one. I seldom get out of my clothes.
[The three drink]
POLORUS
And you were saying that the Emperor—
PAULA
Doctor, you’d hardly believe it. He’s so changed I hardly know him—always complaining about his stomach-aches, and taking pills and things. You know how lively he used to be—always up to some pleasantry. Why, even when we had a quiet dinner here at home—just him and me and the other girls—he’d have in one of those dancers from Mesopotamia, and make him dance on a red-hot stove. Always something jolly. And how he would laugh and cut up! But now look at him! Even this New Year’s Eve banquet is like a funeral. Think of it! He wouldn’t let me go to it—and I’ve been sitting beside him at banquets for—well, ever since I was almost a child. And all the other girls barred out, too—all except Dacia.
PISO
[Professionally] Too bad, too bad!
PAULA
I say nothing against Dacia—not a word. She is a very nice girl. I was glad to see him marry her—that is, if he had to marry anybody. I thought he had wives enough. You can imagine what trouble it makes for me. But you don’t want to hear my afflictions.
POLORUS
Your Majesty was saying that the Emperor is depressed.
PAULA
Depressed? You’d think he had on damp underclothes! And he keeps on sending for those quacks—even those crazy dervishes and religious healers from Asia.
PISO
Religion? Aha! Mental symptoms!
PAULA
Why, yesterday I hear he actually had in one of those awful Jews—Christians, some of them now call themselves—the kind they burn at the circus.
PISO
Riff-raff! They actually say they can cure a sick man without medicine. [To POLORUS] Your pardon, Doctor.
POLORUS
No offence at all, I assure you. My family is from Spain—Mendoza was the family name. I loathe these kikes as much as you do.
PAULA
[Continuing] So I sent for you doctors. I hear you do wonders. But you must be careful. No feeling of pulses or sticking out of tongues. Just say you have heard he is feeling poorly, and have dropped in as a matter of patriotism. Don’t tell him I sent for you. He’ll be here in a few moments, as soon as the banquet [she sniffs sarcastically] is over. You’ll see how sick he is the moment he comes in.
POLORUS
And as for the symptoms, Majesty: you say he complains of—
[His speech is cut short bv the entrance of a guest who comes from the triclinium supported by two slaves. He is very drunk and they drop him beside the pool and proceed to bathe his face]
PAULA
Oh, the poor man! Something has disagreed with him.
PISO
Who is the gentleman?
PAULA
I don’t know him. I think he is one of the generals from the colonies. [To one of the slaves] Who is he?
T HE SLAVE
Caius Macrinus, Majesty. Commander of the Western Fleet.
PISO
Ah, a naval officer! [To the slave] Is he taken this way often?
THE SLAVE
[Idiotically] Only when he drinks.
POLORUS
I think it may be fits. Let’s take a look at him.
PAULA
Shall I order some wine?
PISO
No. That is, not for the patient.
[As RUFINIUS makes for the goblets, PISO and POLORUS approach CAIUS and shoulder the slaves away. CAIUS collapses at the edge of the pool, and before PISO, who is aged and stiff, can grab his end, slides into the water, and out of POLORUS’S hands. The slaves jump in after him and drag him ashore, and the two doctors proceed to revive him]
POLORUS
Grab his arm and pump it up and down!
PISO
What do you take me for, a milk-maid? I am a physician!
POLORUS
I thought wed try some artificial respiration.
PISO
Artificial respiration your grandmother! Slap him on the back: that’ll fetch him.
POLORUS
Yes, and give him pneumonia.
PISO
Pneumonia, flapdoodle! A drunken man never gets pneumonia!
POLORUS
Since when?
PISO
Since the time of Romulus and Remus.
POLORUS
Well, I have seen it.
PISO
You thought you saw it. The patient probably had cholera. Or maybe a fractured skull.
POLORUS
[Sarcastically] Palm-reader!
PISO
[With equal sarcasm] Barber!
PAULA
[Brightly] Why not roll him on a barrel?
POLORUS
Too late! He’s getting over it. Besides, [indicating the banquet room] what barrels there are, are in there.
[CAIUS sits up and gazes about him weak ly. Catching sight of PAULA, he waves his hand at her feebly. He has forgotten where he is, and doesn’t know that she is the Empress]
CAIUS
[Thick ly] Ah there, fair one! How about a little drink!
PISO
[Horrified] Sacrilege!
PAULA
[Flattered by his apparent admiration] Oh, let the poor commander alone. He’s feeling badly. [She approaches him, with a goblet] There, that will make you better.
CAIUS
I remember you, little peppermint, but I can’t place you. Didn’t we meet in—Alexandria?
PAULA
[Sympathetically] Oh, don’t worry your poor head.
CAIUS
It doesn’t worry me. I remember you now. What’s become of that little dark girl?
PISO
[In alarm] The Commander seems to be flighty. He imagines he’s in a—er, a private house.
RUFINIUS
[Taking charge of the situation] I’d better help him out.
[He grabs CAIUS, and with the two slaves, begins leading him out]
CAIUS
[Drunkenly] But I haven’t paid for the drink! Let me pay for the drink! I insist upon paying for the drink! I—
[Exeunt]
POLORUS
Delirium!
PAULA
[Virtuously] I can’t imagine what he was talking about.
PISO
Oh, I have seen thousands of such cases. Most doctors make the mistake of—
[He is cut short by an uproar in the triclinium. Trumpets sound. Suddenly three slaves appear at the door, crying “The Emperor!” PAULA at once prepares to depart]
PAULA
[To the doctors] Remember. Very careful! Don’t ask him to stick out his tongue!
[As PAULA slinks into the peristyle, HELIOGABALUS enters from the triclinium, with DACIA on his arm. He is tall, sallow and apparently somewhat liquored; his bad humour is obvious. He stalks across the stage to the solium without a word, hands up DACIA, and takes his seat beside her with a scowl. He wears a magnificent toga of imperial purple, with a wide band of cloth-of-gold at the bottom. He carries a small baton, with a gigantic ruby at one end. He is bareheaded
[DACIA is a very pretty blonde of, say, nineteen. It is plain that she admires HELIOGABALUS vastly, but there is a touch of awe in her admiration, and it gives her a bit of stage-fright to be with him, as here. She is dressed in the white garment of a Roman matron
[Following the two come several slaves, and two or three army officers. The latter have been guests at the banquet and are more or less tight
[HELIOGABALUS, seated upon th
e solium, claps his hand to his tummy and turns to DACIA]
HELIOGABALUS
There it is again—that grinding pain.
DACIA
I’m so sorry, dear. Shall I send for something?
HELIOGABALUS
The oyster-soup, I dessay. [DACIA pats his arm] Or the speeches.
[He dismisses the subject and sweeps the atrium with his eye. It alights up-on the two doctors, who immediately drop to their knees]
HELIOGABALUS
[Irascibly] So there you are! Get up! [They arise] Well, what are you doing in the Night Court?
PISO
May it please your Majesty, the thought occurred to us that it would be a favourable moment for—paying our respects.
HELIOGABALUS
Aha, the crows smell the carrion! So you heard that I was ill?
PISO
Not exactly ill, Majesty, but—well, one might say slightly indisposed.
HELIOGABALUS
Indisposed? A sweet word. Then a man who has had his head cut off is suffering from tonsilitis. [Hypochondriacly] I tell you my stomach has all gone to pieces. I can hardly digest the blush on a peach.
PISO
Your Majesty describes the symptoms very trenchantly. Half the doctor’s work is done for him.
HELIOGABALUS
I haven’t mentioned a damned symptom, you scurvy old body-snatcher. If I began to tell you all my symptoms I’d talk your ear off.
POLORUS
Perhaps your Majesty will favour us with, say a specimen or two.
HELIOGABALUS
[He hesitates, but finally thinks well of the suggestion] Well, if you are interested . . . For example, what would you say of a sort of peculiar buzzing sensation at the pit of the stomach, an hour after meals? [He makes elaborate circular motions with his fist] And then a sour head-ache, with peculiar flashes of light before the eyes? Sometimes white; sometimes. red; sometimes a sort of greenish purple, or pinkish yellow, or bluish—
[He halts lugubriously]
POLORUS
[Judicially and with a profound frown] I should call it hyperacidity.
PISO
[Derisively] What! Hyperacidity? Then where is your heart-burn?
HELIOGABALUS
[Interrupting] Sir, I said nothing of any heart-burn.
PISO
Precisely. My learned friend here simply—
HELIOGABALUS
[Petulantly] See here, who’s sick, you or I? I tell you about stomach-ache, and you begin talking of heart-burn.
