Ralph

Not quite yet; I’ll wait until that bird completes its song; The last I’ll hear, till many a sun has set. Just tell the folks I’ll meet them on the pier.

[Exit ETHEL, looking disappointed.

RALPH (sitting down in a reverie)

A nice girl, Ethel; but, by Jove, it’s queer The way a fellow’s stubborn mind will turn To something that he should forget. That face— I saw once on a San Francisco street, How well I do recall the time and place. ‘A girl from Honolulu,’ some one said. I wonder where she is now! Married? Dead?

[A silent reverie for a moment. Then speaks again.]

I planned this trip with just one crazy thought— To look upon that strange girl’s face once more. That is the luny project which has brought The four of us to this idyllic shore.

[Laughs and lights a cigar.]

My scheme was worked with such consummate care That mother thinks she planned the whole affair. Then she invited Ethel as her guest.

[Silence for a moment.]

Well, sometimes mothers know just what is best For wayward sons.

And yet, and yet, and yet, Why is it one girl’s face I can’t forget? Why is it that I feel despondent hearted In missing that fool hope for which I started? Four thousand miles is something of a chase To run to cover one elusive face And then to fail.

[Reverie. A chant is heard outside. The man listens. The chant ceases and then a maiden slowly approaches calling out her flower wares, which she carries in a basket; she wears several lais herself, on hat and neck. She does not observe the man at first.]

FLOWER GIRL (calls in a musical voice)

Lais, lais, royal lais, beautiful flowers in bloom; Colours of splendour, fragrance so tender, Blossoms to brighten your room; Lais, lais, royal lais, who buys—

RALPH (leans forward and says aside)

(Eve and the serpent meet in Paradise.)

[He moves forward as the maid enters the doorway. Recognition shows in both faces. Then the maiden recovers her self-possession and starts to go.]

RALPH (with sudden boldness and excitement)

I’ll buy you out, in case you then are free To stay awhile, beneath this banyan tree, And tell me all about your lovely land.

FLOWER GIRL (with dignity)

Your pardon, sir, I do not understand.

RALPH (who seems drunk with exhilaration)

Oh well, ’tis plain enough; from realms of snow I landed here, some little time ago, A lonely orphan, without kith or kin. I need a friend.

[FLOWER GIRL gives him an indignant, surprised glance. Then speaks with quiet sarcasm.]

Sir, they will take you in On Hotel Street. The Y.M.C.A. there Shelters all homeless youths within its pale.

RALPH (shaking his head sadly)

They wouldn’t take me in. I am from Yale.

GIRL (with mock sympathy)

Oh, that is sad. Because no skill or tact You might employ could ever hide the fact From all the world, wherever you might be. Now Harvard, Princeton, Stanford men, we see And never know, until they speak the name; But Yale,—it bears its brand.

RALPH (reproachfully)

You’re making game Of me, and of my College, cruel girl.

[Approaches her excitedly.]

Come, drop those flowers, and let us have a whirl. I’ll give you both the Yale Yell and the Boola, If you will dance for me your famous Hula.

GIRL (drawing back haughtily)

I dance the Hula? You mistake, my friend; You heard my chant, but did not comprehend The meaning of it. Hark, while I repeat it.

[Repeats the chant.]

RALPH (puzzled)

I’m sure there’s nothing in the world can beat it; But—er—the language is a little queer; I did not quite catch all the words, I fear; Besides, I’m so distracted by your face.

GIRL (proudly)

That chant relates the conquests of my race; Though I am poor, and hawk about these lais To earn my bread, yet in the olden days There was no prouder family on earth Than mine. But Polynesian pride of birth Is quite beyond the white man’s scope of brain, And so perchance I speak to you in vain.

[Takes her flowers and starts to go.]

RALPH (intercepts her)

Great Scott! but you are splendid when you’re mad Now, please, don’t go; I’m really not so bad: I don’t mean half I say.

GIRL (turns blazing eyes upon him)

Oh, all you men Of pallid blood, again, and yet again Have offered insults to our island races. I own we once were savage; and the traces Of those wild days remain; but, sir, go back A little way, on your ancestral track, And see what you will find. A horde of bold And lawless cut-throats, started many an old And purse-proud race; and brutal strength became The bloody groundwork for pretentious fame When Might was Right. If every royal tree Were dug up by the roots, the world would see That common mud first mothered the poor sprout. Your race is higher than my own, no doubt; Then shame upon you, for the poor display Of noble manhood that you make to-day, Thinking each brown-faced girl your lawful prey.

[Turns her back upon him and starts to go.]

RALPH (pleadingly)

Oh, say now, let a fellow have a show. I never meant to rouse your anger so; I only meant—I—well, you see the change Of climate was so sudden; and the strange And gorgeous scenery, and your glorious eyes Upset my brain. But you have put me wise. I own that I had heard—

[Hesitates, and GIRL breaks forth again.]

Oh, yes, I know you heard Wild tales of Honolulu; and were stirred With high ambitions to return to Yale, The envied hero of a wilder tale; You thought each maiden on this Isle, perchance Wore skirts of grass, and danced the Hula dance; And gave her lips to any man for gold.

RALPH (interrupting)

Oh, ’pon my honour, I was not so bold—

GIRL (ignoring, and with vehemence)

You thought the old time licence still prevailed; You did not know across the heavens had sailed A beautiful star in brilliancy arrayed, The Self Respecting New Hawaiian Maid— Who prides herself upon her blood and birth And holds her virtue at its priceless worth; And stands undaunted in her rightful place Snow white of soul, however brown of face, Warmer in blood than your white women are And yet more moral in her life by far Than many a leader in your halls of fashion.

RALPH (gazing at her with admiration)

I vow I like to see you in a passion; Such royal rage! Your forbear was, I know Kame-a-lili-like-kalico, Or some such name; who got in that great tiff And tumbled all his foes down off the cliff. I feel I’m lying with them in the valley While you stand all triumphant, on the Pali.

GIRL (smiling and softened)

You mean Kamehameha First, I’m sure. Yes, I am of his line.