to the left, a row of mullioned
windows looks at sea and cliffs in a flash of lightning. Below is a
seaman's chest. Above, on the broken plaster, is scrawled a ship. In
the middle, at the rear, there is a clock with hanging pendulum and
weights. A gun of antique pattern leans beside the clock. To the right
the cabin is recessed, with a door right-angled in the jog and other
windows looking on the sea. A parrot sits on its perch with curbed
profanity. The gaudy creature is best if stuffed, for its noisy tongue
would drown our dialogue. Like Hamlet's player it would speak beyond
its lines and raise a quantity of barren laughter. Our furniture is a
table and three stools, and a tall-backed chair beside the hearth. On
the table a candle burns, bespattered with tallow. The cabin glows
with fire light._

[Illustration: Two pirates are discovered drinking at a table]

_At the lifting of the curtain there is thunder and lightning, and a
rush of wind--if it can be managed. Two pirates are discovered,
drinking at the table. By the smack of their lips it is excellent
grog. One of them--Patch-Eye--has lost an eye and he wears a black
patch. His hair curls up in a pigtail, like any sailor before Nelson.
It looks as stiff as a hook and he might almost be lifted by it and
hung on a peg. But all of our pirates wear pigtails--except one, Red
Joe._

_The other pirate at the table is called the Duke, for no apparent
reason as he is a shabby rogue. We must not run our finger down the
peerage in hope of finding him, or think that he owns a palace on the
Strand. He has only one leg, with a timber below the knee. He wears a
long cloak so that the actor's rusticated leg can be folded out of
sight. The Duke has a great red nose--grog and rum and that sort of
thing. His whiskers are the bush that marks the merry drinking place._

_Patch-Eye is melancholy--almost sentimental at times. He would stab a
man, but grieve upon a sparrow. At heart we fear he is a coward, and
stupid. The Duke, on the contrary, is shrewd and he does a lot of
thinking. He has heavy eyebrows. He is the kind of thinker that you
just know that he is thinking. Both pirates are very cruel--and
profane, but we must be careful._

_And now we hush the melancholy fiddlers. If this comedy can stir the
croaking bass-viol to any show of mirth, our work tops Falstaff. Glum
folk with beards had best withdraw. Only the young in heart will catch
the slender meaning of our play. Let