Life, 1921-12-01 · page 43 of 58
Life — December 1, 1921 — page 43: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a comedic theatrical piece by Henry William Hanemann, presented as a mock-Eastern drama. The narrative follows a conventional adultery plot set in an exotic "wilderness" setting, complete with stock characters: the Man, the Woman, her absent-minded Husband, and a servant (Fizzk). The satire targets Victorian melodrama and orientalist entertainment popular in early 20th-century American periodicals. The humor derives from absurdist complications: the Husband attempts to poison both adulterers using poisoned dates, but through farcical confusion, he accidentally consumes the poison himself and dies. The "morality play" structure is ironic—rather than punishing the unfaithful couple, divine justice (or comic chance) eliminates the wronged husband, subverting audience expectations. The exaggerated dialogue, musical interludes, and cartoon illustrations underscore the piece's theatrical parody of orientalist fantasies and melodramatic conventions that Life magazine's readers would recognize.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Three Brass Bedouins A Morality Play of the East I A Garden in the Wilderness. Scene: 'HE MAN: Ahbhoub, you are the light of my eyes, the warmth of my heart, the fire of my soul... . Tue Woman (coquettishly) : Turn off the heat. My husband... . Tue Man (starting nervously): Where is he? Tue Woman: Who knows? He was to meet me here. Tue Man (rising quickly): Then I have a pressing mat- ter to attend. Tue Woman: Stay. I said he was to meet me here. But he never remembers. His inability to keep straight an appointment is notorious. Even now, bemused in his mind, he probably hastens to Friday’s engage- ment under the belief that he is keeping last Tuesday’s. We are as safe as a Mosque. Tue Ma Are you sure? Tue Woman: I have never known him to fail to confuse his vous. But hold! Cometh my tiring-wench. (Enter in haste.) 1zzk: Get you gone, good Sir. Madam, as my name is Fizzk, it is time to retire. Last night I over- heard Ahbhub, your husband, my master, swear to kill you both. Feranghi? He is wise. Beat it. Tue Woman: A fig for your fears! Ahbhub’s quaint peculiarity of confusing his proper whereabouts will prevent him from ever finding us. I will wager my best earring of chalcedony that at this moment Ahbhub walks a mile for a camel that he isn’t supposed to buy until day after to-morrow. Tue Man: Your confidence emboldens me, Ahbhoub, my beloved. See how the starlight glistens upon the white berries of the mistletoe. Wilt thou mingle thine eyebrows with mine? Tue Woman (languorously) : head on his shoulders. softly and passionately) : Ah, no, Ahbheeb! How saith the cursed Yea. (She sinks her He takes his Chi-tar and sings Ou ot oti, la la la, Ou ov oti, la lala; Ov ot oti, la la la, Ot ot ot, la la la. Cuorus Wee-wee, wee-wee. Curtain II Short Scene: A Wilderness in the Garden. Tue Hussanp: Bismillah! Hand clasped in hand in their bower of myrrh and mistletoe, they thought I would not see them. They thought wrong. Now to my vengeance. These fruits of my favorite palm tree—let me pit them and Henry William Hanemann fill them with hashish! (He does so.) Ha! Pitted of inno- cence and stuffed with death—a pretty conceit. To the left side of my enameled comfit box I put these dainty poisoned To the right side, I keep their harmless brethren. Death! sweets. Death to Ahbhoub and Ahbheeb the faithless. Curtain The Same Garden. Slightly Wilder. Scene: my little oil stove. Tue Woman: Tue M Tue W cohol... My bonfire... gas jet... My solidified al- My Toasto! : My Grillo! My Broilo! n: My Stewo! My Fryo! : My Scorcho! My Bimbo! Tue Man: husband enters). Tue Huspanp: trusion, will you not? pair jump up.) Tue Woman (attempting to cover her confusion): Mr. Bheeb, you—er—know my husband, Mr. Bhub? (The Forgive my in- (The guilty Tue Man: Allah be with you. Tue Huspanp (grimly): Allah be merciful to you. (He extends his comfit box.) Tue M Don’t mind if I do. (He extends his hand.) Tue Huspanp (indicating the right side of the box): Try one on this side, Ahbhoub? Tue Woman: Thank you, Ahbhub. from the right side of the box.) Tue Huspanp (guilelessly): And I. the left side. All bite, chew and swallow. ward silence.) Tue Man: How warm it is—and still. Tue Huspanp: It may be still warmer—for some of us. (Suddenly his eyes fix in a glassy stare.) Tue Woman: I don’t understand— 5 Tue Huspanp (thickly): Allah—protect—me. Neither dol. (He expires gracefully, ad lib.) Tue Man (he stoops over Ahbhub): See—filled with hashish—poisoned! He has killed himself. Ahbhoub, be- loved, what means this? Tue Woman (intuitively): He came to kill us. Tue Man: With friendly proffer of poisoned fruit? I comprehend. And yet . . . how strange his failure. Tue Woman: Not strange at all. What saith the Koran? “Once an /shp, always an Ishp.” Tue Man: But he gave us the dates of life and ate the dates of death himself... . Tue Woman: Fool! Was he not forever getting his dates mixed? Curtain (She, too, picks (He picks from There is an awk- comicbooks.com