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the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
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Transcriber's Note: As far as possible, I have followed the
layout of the original book, which is somewhat irregular...
(T. N. cont. at end of book).
-----------------------------------------





        "A COMEDY OF ERRORS"

               IN

            SEVEN ACTS


                BY

            SPOKESHAVE

              ALIAS

             OLD FOGY


          SUPPLEMENTED BY

"SIR WINDBAG CONSULTS COUNT LUIE," "AN
  IMAGINARY OFFICIAL CONSULTATION,"
      "A DEMOCRATIC WAKE," "A
       COUNCIL OF WAR" AND "A
          SOLEMN CONCLAVE"

                BY

             OLD FOGY


            LUZON PRESS

E. J. HABERER, PUBLISHER. 1914




_PREFACE_


_As many were not able to secure all the Acts of "A Comedy of Errors"
owing to the editions having been exhausted, and as numerous friends
have expressed a desire to secure it entire, the author has concluded
to publish it, supplemented by four more recent compositions._

_With malice towards none and charity to all, this modest booklet is
launched on the uncertain sea of literature._

_--Old Fogy._

_Manila, November 15th, 1914._




A COMEDY OF ERRORS

BY SPOKESHAVE

       *       *       *       *       *




ACT I


Dramatis Personae

  _Caesar_... _Ruler of the State._
  _Francos_ .. _Governor General of a Province._
  _Quezox_... _Resident Delegate from the Province._
                               _Page._


    _Scene: Throne Room at the Capitol_

_Caesar:_  Most noble Francos, I greet thee heartily.
           A function truly noble falls within thy grasp;
           And thou wilt with it deal as only sages can.
           The distant Isles are now crushed by the pow'r
           Of ruthless tyrants, who on plunder bent,
           Oppress a helpless, but a worthy race,
           Which groans beneath a yoke of foreign make,
           And hence it fitteth not the sable necks
           On which it now, relentless, firmly rests.
             'Tis well, we know, how, filled with visions vain,
             Our predecessor sought to stuff those minds
             With mental food fit only for those born
             To skins of whiter tint, and hence with grasp
             Of firmer structure, built by kindly Time,
             Who fashioned us in more ennobled mold;
             While power divine to cap the climax grand,
             With hand so deft, gave it its final touch.
           These men with vision faint who planned so vain
           Knew not the knightly thought bred in the south.
           The north winds chill and stunt the subtle power
           Which flourishes alone 'neath southern skies,
           To read unerring from the page of truth
           That God has fashioned some to mount aloft,
           While others grovel on a lower plane.
             Hence we must cherish ever in our hearts,
             The thought that pigment marks the subtle line;
             And so throw off a burden on us laid
             By those who blindly cast their shoulders down,
             To bear a load which deep ingratitude
             Alone will be the recompense for all our pains.
_Francos:_ My liege, I grasp the thought: a burden dark,
           Which now each year a golden tribute calls,
           Must be disposed of quickly, but so sly
           That watching nations may not fling a slur
           Upon our honor as we cast adrift
           This alien race to face the world alone.
_Caesar:_    Sweet Francos, truly thou hast quick discerned
             The thought which wisdom fathered in my mind.
             "Be wise as serpent, harmless as the dove,"
             Should be our watchword as we scuttle ship,
             For there be those who speak with venomed tongues
             Of serpents, as we cast them helpless off.
             But if we of politicos make use,
             And to their clamour lend approving smile,
             We may while coolly thrusting them aside,
             Meet with the thoughtless world's approving nod.
_Francos:_ Ha! Ha! methinks I see my path made clear
           'Twere wise to fellowship with only those
           Who, longing