A Comedy of Errors in Seven Acts

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by Spokeshave (AKA Old Fogy)
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Title: 'A Comedy of Errors' in Seven Acts
Author: Spokeshave (AKA Old Fogy)
Release Date: April 5, 2007 [EBook #20989]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
0. START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'A COMEDY
OF ERRORS' IN SEVEN ACTS ***
Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Lesley Halamek and
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Transcriber's Note: As far as possible, I have followed the layout of the
original book, which is somewhat irregular... (T. N. cont. at end of
book).

"A COMEDY OF ERRORS"
IN
SEVEN ACTS

BY
SPOKESHAVE
ALIAS
OLD FOGY
SUPPLEMENTED BY
"SIR WINDBAG CONSULTS COUNT LUIE," "AN

IMAGINARY OFFICIAL CONSULTATION,"
"A DEMOCRATIC WAKE," "A
COUNCIL OF WAR" AND
"A
SOLEMN CONCLAVE"
BY
OLD FOGY
LUZON PRESS
E. J. HABERER, PUBLISHER. 1914
_PREFACE_
_As many were not able to secure all the Acts of "A Comedy of Errors"
owing to the editions having been exhausted, and as numerous friends
have expressed a desire to secure it entire, the author has concluded to
publish it, supplemented by four more recent compositions._
_With malice towards none and charity to all, this modest booklet is
launched on the uncertain sea of literature._
_--Old Fogy._
_Manila, November 15th, 1914._

A COMEDY OF ERRORS
BY SPOKESHAVE

ACT I
Dramatis Personae
_Caesar_ . . . _Ruler of the State._
_Francos_ . . _Governor General
of a Province._
_Quezox_ . . . _Resident Delegate from the
Province._
_Page._
_Scene: Throne Room at the Capitol_
_Caesar:_ Most noble Francos, I greet thee heartily.
A function truly noble falls within thy grasp;
And thou wilt with it
deal as only sages can.
The distant Isles are now crushed by the pow'r

Of ruthless tyrants, who on plunder bent,
Oppress a helpless, but a
worthy race,
Which groans beneath a yoke of foreign make,
And
hence it fitteth not the sable necks
On which it now, relentless, firmly
rests.
'Tis well, we know, how, filled with
visions vain,
Our predecessor sought to stuff those
minds
With mental food fit only for those born
To skins of whiter tint, and hence with
grasp
Of firmer structure, built by kindly
Time,
Who fashioned us in more ennobled mold;
While power divine to cap the climax
grand,
With hand so deft, gave it its final touch.

These men with vision faint who planned so vain
Knew not the
knightly thought bred in the south. The north winds chill and stunt the
subtle power Which flourishes alone 'neath southern skies,
To read
unerring from the page of truth
That God has fashioned some to
mount aloft,
While others grovel on a lower plane.
Hence we must cherish ever in our hearts,
The thought that pigment marks the subtle
line;
And so throw off a burden on us laid
B y those who blindly cast their shoulders
down,
To bear a load which deep ingratitude
Alone will be the recompense for all our
pains.
_Francos:_ My liege, I grasp the thought: a burden dark,
Which now each year a golden tribute calls,
Must be disposed of
quickly, but so sly
That watching nations may