De Young + 

Solus. + 

This is the spot agreed upon. Here rest + 

The sainted statesman who upon the field + 

Of honor have at divers times laid down + 

Their own, and ended, ignominious, + 

Their lives political. About me, lo! + 

Their silent headstones, gilded by the moon, + 

Half-full and near her setting⁠—midnight. Hark! + 

Through the white mists of this portentous night + 

(Which throng in moving shapes about my way, + 

As they were ghosts of candidates I’ve slain, + 

To fray their murderer) my open ear + 

Engulfs a footstep. Enter Estee from his tomb. + 

Ah, ’tis he, my foe, + 

True to appointment; and so here we fight⁠— + 

Though truly ’twas my firm belief that he + 

Would send regrets, or I had not been here. + 

Estee + 

O moon that hast so oft surprised the deeds + 

Whereby I rose to greatness!⁠—tricksy orb, + 

The type and symbol of my politics, + 

Now draw my ebbing fortunes to their flood, + 

As, by the magic of a poultice, boils + 

That burn ambitions with defeated fires + 

Are lifted into eminence. Sees De Young. What? you! + 

Faith, if I had suspected you would come + 

From the fair world of politics wherein + 

So lately you were whelped, and which, alas, + 

I vainly to revisit strive, though still + 

Rapped on the rotting head and bidden sleep + 

Till Resurrection’s morn⁠—if I had thought + 

You would accept the challenge that I flung + 

I would have seen you damned ere I came forth + 

In the night air, shroud-clad and shivering, + 

To fight so mean a thing! But since you’re here, + 

Draw and defend yourself. By gad, we’ll see + 

Who’ll be Postmaster-General! + 

De Young + 

We will⁠— + 

I’ll fight (for I am lame) with any blue + 

And redolent remain that dares aspire + 

To wreck the Grand Old Grandson’s cabinet. + 

Here’s at you, nosegay! + 

They draw tongues and are about to fight, when from an adjacent whited sepulcher, enter Swift. + 

Swift + 

Hold! put up your tongues! + 

Within the confines of this sacred spot + 

Broods such a holy calm as none may break + 

By clash of weapons, without sacrilege. Beats down their tongues with a bone. + 

Madmen! what profits it? For though you fought + 

With such heroic skill that both survived, + 

Yet neither should achieve the prize, for I + 

Would wrest it from him. Let us not contend, + 

But friendliwise by stipulation fix + 

A slate for mutual advantage. Why, + 

Having the pick and choice of seats, should we + 

Forego them all but one? Nay, we’ll take three, + 

And part them so among us that to each + 

Shall fall the fittest to his powers. In brief, + 

Let us establish a Portfolio Trust. + 

Estee + 

Agreed. + 

De Young + 

Aye, truly, ’tis a greed⁠—and one + 

The offices imperfectly will sate, + 

But I’ll stand in. + 

Swift + 

Well, so ’tis understood, + 

As you’re the junior member of the Trust, + 

Politically younger and undead, + 

Speak, Michael: what portfolio do you choose? + 

De Young + 

I’ve thought the Postal service best would serve + 

My interest; but since I have my pick, + 

I’ll take the War Department. It is known + 

Throughout the world, from Market street to Pine, + 

(For a Chicago journal told the tale) + 

How in this hand I lately took my life + 

And marched against great Buckley, thundering + 

My mandate that he count the ballots fair! + 

Earth heard and shrank to half her size! Yon moon, + 

Which rivaled then a liver’s whiteness, paused + 

That night at Butchertown and daubed her face + 

With sheep’s blood! Then my serried rank I drew + 

Back to my stronghold without loss. To mark + 

My care in saving human life⁠—my own⁠— + 

The Peace Society bestowed on me + 

Its leather medal and the title, too, + 

Of Colonel. Yes, my genius is for war. Good land! + 

I naturally dote on a brass band! + 

Sings. + 

O, give me a life on the tented field, + 

Where the cannon roar and ring, + 

Where the flag floats free and the foemen yield + 

And bleed as the bullets sing. + 

But be it not mine to wage the fray + 

Where matters are ordered the other way, + 

For that is a different thing. + 

O, give me a life in the fierce campaign⁠— + 

Let it be the life of my foe: + 

I’d rather fall upon him than the plain; + 

That service I’d fain forego. + 

O, a warrior’s life is fine and free, + 

But a warrior’s death⁠—ah me! ah me! + 

That’s a different thing, you know. + 

Estee + 

Some claim I might myself advance to that + 

Portfolio. When Rebellion raised her head, + 

And you, my friends, stayed meekly in your shirts, + 

I marched with banners to the party stump, + 

Spat on my hands, made faces fierce as death, + 

Shook my two fists at once and introduced + 

Brave resolutions terrible to read! + 

Nay, only recently, as you do know, + 

I conquered Treason by the word of mouth, + 

And slew again (to her surprise) the South! + 

Swift + 

You once fought Stanford, too. + 

Estee + 

Enough of that⁠— + 

Give me the Interior and I’ll devote + 

My mind to agriculture and improve + 

The breed of cabbages, especially + 

The Brassica Celeritatis, named + 

For you because in days of long ago + 

You sold it at your market stall⁠—and, faith, + 

’Tis said you were an honest huckster then. + 

I’ll be Attorney-General if you + 

Prefer; for know I am a lawyer too! + 

Swift + 

I never have heard that!⁠—have you, De Young? + 

De Young + 

Never, so help me! And I swear I’ve heard + 

A score of Judges say that he is not. + 

Swift + 

To Estee. + 

You take the Interior. I might aspire + 

To military station too, for once + 

I led my party into Pixley’s camp, + 

And he paroled me. I defended, too, + 

The State of Oregon against the sharp + 

And bloody tooth of the Australian sheep. + 

But I’ve an aptitude exceeding neat + 

For bloodless battles of diplomacy. + 

My cobweb treaty of Exclusion once, + 

Through which a hundred thousand coolies sailed, + 

Was much admired, but most by Colonel Bee. + 

Though born a tinker, I’m a diplomat + 

From old Missouri, and I⁠—ha! what’s this? + 

Exit Moon. Enter Blue Lights on all the tombs, and a circle of Red Fire on the grass; in the center the Spirit of Broken Hopes, and round about, a Troupe of Coffins, dancing and singing. + 

Chorus of Coffins + 

Two bodies dead and one alive⁠— + 

Yo, ho, merrily all! + 

Now for office strain and strive⁠— + 

Buzzards all a-warble, O! + 

Prophets three, agape for bread; + 

Raven with a stone instead⁠— + 

Providential raven! + 

Judges two and Colonel one⁠— + 

Run, run, rustics, run! + 

But it’s O, the pig is shaven, + 

And oily, oily all! + 

Exeunt Coffins, dancing. The Spirit of Broken Hopes advances, solemnly pointing at each of the Three Worthies in turn. + 

Spirit of Broken Hopes + 

Governor, Governor, editor man, + 

Rusty, musty, spick-and-span, + 

Harlequin, harridan, dicky-dout, + 

Demagogue, charlatan⁠—o, u, t, out! De Young falls and sleeps. + 

Antimonopoler, diplomat, + 

Railroad lackey, political rat, + 

One, two, three⁠—scat! Swift falls and sleeps. + 

Boycotting chin-worker, working to woo + 

Fortune, the fickle, to smile upon you + 

Jo-coated acrobat, shuttle-cock⁠—shoo! Estee falls and sleeps. + 

Now they lie in slumber sweet, + 

Now the charm is all complete, + 

Hasten I with flying feet + 

Where beyond the farther sea + 

A babe upon its mother’s knee + 

Is gazing into skies afar + 

And crying for a golden star. + 

I’ll drag a cloud across the blue + 

And break that infant’s heart in two! + 

Exeunt the Spirit of Broken Hopes and the Red and Blue Fires. Reenter Moon. + 

Estee + 

Waking. + 

Why, this is strange! I dreamed I know not what, + 

It seemed that certain apparitions were, + 

Which sang uncanny words, significant + 

And yet ambiguous⁠—half-understood⁠— + 

Portending evil; and an awful spook, + 

Even as I stood with my accomplices, + 

Counted me out, as children do in play. + 

Is that you, Mike? + 

De Young + 

Waking. + 

It was. + 

Swift + 

Waking. + 

And I all that? + 

Then I’ll reform my life. Reforms his life. Ah! had I known + 

How sweet it is to be an honest man + 

I never would have stooped to turn my coat + 

For public favor, as chameleons take + 

The hue (as near as they can judge) of that + 

Supporting them. Henceforth I’ll buy + 

With money all the offices I need, + 

And know the profit of an honest life, + 

Or stay forever in this dismal place. + 

Now that I’m good, it will no longer do + 

To make a third with such a wicked two. Returns to his tomb. + 

De Young + 

Prophetic dream! by some good angel sent + 

To make me with a quiet life content. + 

The question shall no more my bosom irk, + 

To go to Washington or go to work. + 

From Fame’s debasing struggle I’ll withdraw, + 

And taking up the pen lay down the law. + 

I’ll leave this rogue, lest my example make + 

An honest man of him⁠—his heart would break. Exit De Young. + 

Estee + 

Out of my company these converts flee, + 

But that advantage is denied to me: + 

My curst identity’s confining skin + 

Nor lets me out nor tolerates me in. + 

But since my hopes eternally have fled, + 

And, dead before, I’m more than ever dead, + 

To find a grander tomb be now my task, + 

And pack my pork into a stolen cask. + 

Exit, searching. Loud calls for the Author, who appears, bowing and smiling. Enter Faint Odor of Mortality. Exit the Gas. + 