So, kinsmen, we present This for no loud event That is but fugitive, But that you may behold Our mimic action mould The spirit of man immortally to live. _First Chronicler_: Once when a peril touched the days Of freedom in our English ways, And none renowned in government Was equal found, Came to the steadfast heart of one, Who watched in lonely Huntingdon, A summons, and he went, And tyranny was bound, And Cromwell was the lord of his event. _Second Chronicler_: And in that land where voyaging The pilgrim Mayflower came to rest, Among the chosen, counselling, Once, when bewilderment possessed A people, none there was might draw To fold the wandering thoughts of men, And make as one the names again Of liberty and law. And then, from fifty fameless years In quiet Illinois was sent A word that still the Atlantic hears, And Lincoln was the lord of his event. _The two speaking together:_ So the uncounted spirit wakes To the birth Of uncounted circumstance. And time in a generation makes Portents majestic a little story of earth To be remembered by chance At a fireside. But the ardours that they bear, The proud and invincible motions of character-- These--these abide. SCENE I. _The parlour of Abraham Lincoln's House at Springfield, Illinois, early in 1860_. MR. STONE, _a farmer, and_ MR. CUFFNEY, _a store-keeper, both men of between fifty and sixty, are sitting before an early spring fire. It is dusk, but the curtains are not drawn. The men are smoking silently_. _Mr. Stone (after a pause)_: Abraham. It's a good name for a man to bear, anyway. _Mr. Cuffney_: Yes. That's right. _Mr. Stone (after another pause)_: Abraham Lincoln. I've known him forty years. Never crooked once. Well. _He taps his pipe reflectively on the grate. There is another pause_. SUSAN, _a servant-maid, comes in, and busies herself lighting candles and drawing the curtains to._ _Susan_: Mrs. Lincoln has just come in. She says she'll be here directly. _Mr. Cuffney_: Thank you. _Mr. Stone_: Mr. Lincoln isn't home yet, I dare say? _Susan:_ No, Mr. Stone. He won't be long, with all the gentlemen coming. _Mr. Stone:_ How would you like your master to be President of the United States, Susan? _Susan:_ I'm sure he'd do it very nicely, sir. _Mr. Cuffney:_ He would have to leave Springfield, Susan, and go to live in Washington. _Susan:_ I dare say we should take to Washington very well, sir. _Mr. Cuffney:_ Ah! I'm glad to hear that. _Susan:_ Mrs. Lincoln's rather particular about the tobacco smoke. _Mr. Stone:_ To be sure, yes, thank you, Susan. _Susan:_ The master doesn't smoke, you know. And Mrs. Lincoln's specially particular about this room. _Mr. Cuffney:_ Quite so. That's very considerate of you, Susan. _They knock out their pipes._ _Susan:_ Though some people might not hold with a gentleman not doing as he'd a mind in his own house, as you might say. _She goes out._