THE POOR MAN BY STELLA BENSON I POSE TWENTY LIVING ALONE THIS IS THE END THE POOR MAN BY STELLA BENSON New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1923 _All rights reserved_ COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped. Published January, 1923. Press of J. J. Little & Ives Company New York, U. S. A. THE POOR MAN KWAN-YIN, GODDESS OF MERCY TEMPLE OF KWAN-YIN. A wide altar occupies the whole of the back of the stage; a long fringe of strips of yellow brocade hangs from the ceiling to within three feet of the floor at either end of the altar. In the centre of the altar the seated figure of the goddess is vaguely visible in the dimness; only the face is definitely seen—a golden face; the expression is passionless and aloof. A long table about 12 inches lower than the altar stands in front of it, right across the stage. On the table, before the feet of Kwan-yin, is her carved tablet with her names in golden characters on a red lacquer ground. In front of the tablet is a large brass bowl full of joss-sticks, the smoke of which wavers in the air and occasionally obscures the face of Kwan-yin. There are several plates of waxen-looking fruit and cakes on the table and two horn lanterns; these are the only light on the scene. On either side of Kwan-yin, between the table and the altar, there is a pillar with a gilded wooden dragon twisted round it, head downward. To the left, forward, is a large barrel-shaped drum slung on a carved blackwood stand. Four priests and two acolytes are seen like shadows before this palely lit background. One acolyte to the right of the table beats a little hoarse bell. This he does during the course of the whole scene, in the following rhythm:—7—8—20—7—8—20. He should reach the 105th beat at the end of the second hymn to Kwan-yin. The other acolyte stands by the drum and beats it softly at irregular intervals. The acolytes are little boys in long blue coats. The four priests stand at the table with their faces toward Kwan-yin; their robes are pale pink silk with a length of deeper apricot pink draped about the shoulders. The priests kneel and kow-tow to Kwan-yin. The acolytes sing: The voice of pain is weak and thin And yet it never dies. Kwan-yin—Kwan-yin Has tears in her eyes. Be comforted ... be comforted ... Be comforted, my dear.... Never a heart too dead For Kwan-yin to hear.