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Thursday, March 22, 1928

I want to run through fields of tall 
green grass with you,
Forgetting all
Except to smile into the blue,

[[strikethrough]] Except [[/strikethrough]] To laugh into the brazen [[?]] sun,
Except to pass,
We two as one,
Thru butter-cups and meadow-grass,

Except to run, in joyful haste,
And not to spurn
A thing, to taste
The best of life.  And never to return!


83

Friday, March 23, 1928

(Pierot is sitting in a large black rocking chair, rocking back & forth miserably.  His head is in his hands, and there is an attitude of despair in his whole being.  Columbine is perched on a table.  As the curtain goes up she looks at Harlequin, who is sitting on a straight tall chair, and then back at Pierot)

[[strikethrough]] Columbine [[/strikethrough]] Harlequin:  But Pierot, [[strikethrough]] dear [[/strikethrough]] Pierot, it isn't too late.

Columbine:  At least, Pierot, it's not too late to keep yourself from losing all of you – the you that is so real and happy.  Supposing she has gone.  You can't stop living because you are without Pierette.

Pierot:  (not raising his head, and quite indistinctly)  Living?

[[strikethrough]] Columbine [[/strikethrough]] Harlequin:  You've got to face the starkness of Reality.  Pierette is gone.

Pierot:  Now what?

Columbine:  You must find something else.  Develope your acting, or your music.  You mustn't lose yourself because [[strikethrough]] the [[/strikethrough]] one thing is gone.