the right bridge. This show must be both comic and imaginatively stylized: it will be interesting as all personifications of abstractions are interesting. The first "Sin"-Pride is a small girl perched on very high heels what Hamlet calls "raised nearer heaven by the altitude of a chopine" and clad mostly in white, with a long white ostrich plume sweeping down her back "like a fan of feathers" and short, outstanding skirts like a “periwig.” Silver and light blue ornament her straightened, puffed, slashed, lined, laced, and bordered costume - artifice leaving very little resemblance to the human figure. She trips smartly to center, pertly speaks her lines there, facing left, as they all do, in profile, and tiptoes on very airily as Covetousness comes. LUCIFER Now, Faustus, examine them of their several names and dispositions. FAUSTUS What art thou, the first? PRIDE I am Pride. I disdain to have any parents. I am like Ovid's flea: I can creep into every corner. Sometimes like a periwig I sit upon a wench's brow, or like a fan of feathers I kiss her lips. But fie! what a scent is here! I'll not speak another word except the ground were perfumed, and covered with cloth of arras! [Enter Covetousness a weazened, bent old dwarf with big gold brows and long gold beard and golden claws doubling the length of his dead-white fingers, — a high, round, forward-reaching head-dress over his yellow-white face, and garbed wholly in black with gold spots of different sizes sewn irregularly over his rich knee-length coat, and enormous gold buckles on his shoes. His walk shows age, and he mumbles. FAUSTUS What art thou, the second? COVETOUSNESS I am Covetousness: and might I have my wish, I would desire that this house and all the people in it (gloating over the audience) were turned to gold, that I might lock you up in my good chest, O my sweet gold! [He mumbles on. Wrath bursts down the bridge, flourishing a rapier in each hand. His flame-color hair flares away from his head; his face and hands are bright red; his skin-tight dress, of iridescent, glittering, stiffened silk, is steel-blue, edged with vivid scarlet, with flashing scarlet shoes, pointed, of cloth. He is tall and wiry, wriggles when he is still, and bounds away with a warning shout at his speech's end. FAUSTUS What art thou, the third? WRATH I am Wrath leapt out of a lion's mouth, to run up and down the world with these rapiers wounding myself when I had nobody to fight withal. I was born in hell, and look to it, for some of you shall be my father! [He springs out, glinting, immediately behind Covetousness, as Envy takes his place: an ugly, halfgrown brat, coal-black all over, with strips and streamers of livid green tattered over his lean body, hat or shoes. He shuffles and blinks: Faustus has to shout him away, and he snarls as he goes. no SCENE FROM DOCTOR FAUSTUS AS PRODUCED BY SAM HUME AT THE ARTS AND CRAFTS THEATRE, DETROIT, IN JANUARY, 1918 The Seven Deadly Sins - Gluttony, Wrath, Sloth, Lechery, Covetousness, Envy, and Pride-in original costumes and masks FAUSTUS What art thou, the fourth? ENVY I am Envy, born of a chimney sweeper and an oysterwife. I cannot read, and therefore wish all books were burnt. I am lean with seeing others eat. Oh, that there would come a famine through all the world, that all might die, and I live alone! Then thou shouldst see how fat I would be! But must thou sit, and I stand? Come down, with a vengeance! FAUSTUS Away, envious rascal!- What art thou, the fifth? [To Gluttony, who has waddled down, short, round, with puffy cheeks and little fat-cased eyes, dressed in russet and cream-color with high soft black shoes and a flat black cap and a broad leathern belt, little Falstaff, minus a beard, wheezing. GLUTTONY a Who, I, sir? I am Gluttony. My parents are all dead, and the devil a penny they have left me but a bare pension, and that is thirty meals a day and ten bevers, a small trifle to suffice nature! Wilt thou bid me to supper? FAUSTUS No, I'll see thee hang'd! Thou wilt eat up all my victuals. GLUTTONY Then the devil choke thee! [He puffs away, by degrees. FAUSTUS Choke thyself, glutton! - What art thou, the sixth? [To Sloth, who is reeling down, staggering all over the platform, not as though drunk, but yawning and |