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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:06:58 -0700 |
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diff --git a/36984-h/36984-h.htm b/36984-h/36984-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..91007f0 --- /dev/null +++ b/36984-h/36984-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,64285 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays, by Frank Shay and Pierre Loving. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .5em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .5em; + text-indent: 1em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .ralign { position: absolute; + text-align: right; + left: 36em; + } + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .alignleft {float: left; font-size: large; font-variant: small-caps; text-indent: 0em;} + .alignright {float: right; font-size: large; font-variant: small-caps; text-indent: 0em;} + .alignl {float: left; text-indent: 0em;} + .alignr {float: right; text-indent: 0em;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .ft50 {font-size: 5em;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .pchar {margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: .25em; text-indent: -1em;} + .author {text-align: right; margin-right: 1em;} + .regards {text-align: right; margin-right: 4em;} + .salute {text-align: justify; margin-left: 4em; text-indent: -1em;} + .noidt {text-indent: 0em;} + + ins.correction {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin solid gray;} + + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .notebox {border: solid 2px; padding: 1em; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; background: #CCCCB2;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays + +Author: Various + +Editor: Frank Shay + Pierre Loving + +Release Date: August 6, 2011 [EBook #36984] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY CONTEMPORARY ONE-ACT PLAYS *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1><span class="smcap">Fifty Contemporary<br /> +One-Act Plays</span></h1> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Selected and Edited</span></h4> + +<h5>BY</h5> + +<h2>FRANK SHAY</h2> + +<h5>AND</h5> + +<h2>PIERRE LOVING</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<h4>CINCINNATI<br /> + +<big>STEWART & KIDD COMPANY</big><br /> + +PUBLISHERS</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1920, by</span><br /> +STEWART & KIDD COMPANY<br /> +<i>All rights reserved</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">Copyright in England</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2>INTRODUCTION</h2> + + +<p>Tradition in the sphere of books is relentlessly +imperious and will not be denied. +The present anthology of one-act +plays, in defiance of a keen reluctance +on the part of the editors, is condemned +at birth to the heritage of a title; for +this practice, as is well known, has been +the unchallenged punctilio of book-making +and book-editing from time immemorial. +And yet if the truth be told, +the editors have found precisely this to +be by far the most embarrassing of the +various tasks that have arisen in connection +with the project. In the selection of a +title, the immediate problem was of course +to avoid, so far as possible, the slightest +pretense or assumption of categorical +standards of choice or even the merest +intimation that there existed somewhere, +attainable or unattainable, an ideal norm +according to which one-act plays could +be faultlessly assessed and pigeon-holed.</p> + +<p>In point of fact, so many tolerably +good one-act plays are being written and +acted nowadays, that the editors early +concluded that the business of editing +a volume of fifty one-act pieces implies, +so to speak, inviting the devil or the +spirit that denies to the feast. Thus all +manner of obstinate ribaldries and mischief +began to infest our path of progress.</p> + +<p>If it were only a naïve question +of adjudging a golden apple to one of +three lovely women, earthly or divine, +the matter would have proved comparatively +simple; but the question was more +complex: it offered the public a meager +book which could never hope to compress +within itself the core and quiddity +of about a thousand plays, or +more, which the editors were privileged +to examine from the first moment when +they launched upon their task eight +months ago, to this. Moreover it frequently +happened that when the editors +had flattered themselves on having picked +a sure winner, the sure winner forthwith +got out of hand and no persuasive cajolings +availed to allure it back. In +other words, not a few plays which the +editors sought to include in the book +were found unavailable by reason of +previous copyrights. In several cases +the copyright had passed entirely out of +the control of the author or his accredited +representative.</p> + +<p>On the whole, however, both authors +and those commissioned to act for them +have responded most sympathetically to +the project and have rendered valuable +assistance and support, without which, +let me hasten to add, the present collection +would not have been possible.</p> + +<p>The reader will observe that plays by +American authors predominate over +those of any other single country, and +the reason for this is fairly obvious. +American plays, besides being most readily +available to the anthologist, are beginning +to reflect the renascence that is +gradually taking place in the American +theater. There is growing up in this +country a younger generation of dramatists, +which is achieving its most notable +work outside the beaten path of +popular recognition, in small dramatic +juntos and in the little theaters. In +the main, the form they employ as being +most suitable to their needs, is that offered +by the concise scaffold of the one-act +play. These efforts, we hold, deserve +a wider audience.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, a mere scrutiny of +the table of contents will reveal that +the editors have included a number of +foreign plays heretofore not accessible to +English-speaking readers. This aspect +of the task, the effort of pioneer exploration, +has indeed been by far the +most pleasant, and most pleasant, too, +has proved the discovery of several new +American writers who have produced +original work. Of the foreign writers, +such men as Wied and Speenhof, for example, +are practically if not totally unknown +to American readers, and they, as +well as a handful of others, are in the +opinion of the editors worthy of an +American following.</p> + +<p>As concerns the procedure or technic +of choice, it goes without saying, surely, +that if a congruous method exists at all, +it merely embodies a certain permissible +viewpoint. This viewpoint will probably +find unqualified favor with but a +handful of readers; others it will frankly +outrage to the extent of their casting it +out, lock, stock and barrel. But this is +to be looked for in an undertaking of this +caliber in which individual bias, after all, +plays so leading a part. And titling the +volume came to be an arduous process +only in virtue of the afore-mentioned +viewpoint, cherished but shadowily defined, +or to be exact, in virtue of the +despair which succeeded upon each persistent +attempt to capture what remained +perennially elusive. Unfortunately it +still remains elusive. If then a rationalization +is demanded by the reader—a +privilege none will question his right to +exercise—he will, I am afraid, have to +content himself with something as vague +and fantastic as the following:</p> + +<p>Imagine a playhouse, perfectly +equipped, plastic and infinitely adaptable. +Invite Arthur Hopkins, John Williams, +Winthrop Ames, Sam Hume and +George Cram Cook to manage it; let +them run riot on the stage. Clear the +wings and the front of the house of all +routineers. Fill the seats at each performance +with the usual gallery-haunters +of the New York theaters. Do not overlook +the hosts of experimental playhouse +directors—unleash them in the backyard +area with a <i>kammerspielhaus</i> to toy with +at pleasure. Let the personnel of the +play-reading committee consist of such +men as Ludwig Lewisohn, Barrett H. +Clark, George Jean Nathan and Francis +Hackett. The result will take care of itself. +This, in brief, is the theatrical +ménage for which, in the main, the plays +included in this volume were written.</p> + +<p>Is this a hair-brained or a frivolous +notion? It may be. But, please note, it +expresses, no matter how limpingly, some +approach to a viewpoint. At all events +it is the only touchstone applied by the +editors in their choice of fifty contemporary +one-act plays.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Pierre Loving.</span></p> +<p>New York City, Sept., 1920.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>AUSTRIA:</td><td> </td><td align='left'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">von Hofmannsthal (Hugo)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#MADONNA_DIANORA"><i>Madonna Dianora</i></a></td><td align='right'>1</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Schnitzler (Arthur)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#LITERATURE"><i>Literature</i></a></td><td align='right'>13</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />BELGIUM:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Maeterlinck (Maurice)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_INTRUDER"><i>The Intruder</i></a></td><td align='right'>27</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />BOLIVIA:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">More (Federico)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#INTERLUDE"><i>Interlude</i></a></td><td align='right'>39</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />FRANCE:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ancey (George)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#MONSIEUR_LAMBLIN"><i>Monsieur Lamblin</i></a></td><td align='right'>45</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">de Porto-Riche (Georges)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#FRANCOISE_LUCK"><i>Françoise' Luck</i></a></td><td align='right'>53</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />GERMANY:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ettlinger (Karl)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#ALTRUISM"><i>Altruism</i></a></td><td align='right'>67</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Wedekind (Frank)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#TENOR"><i>The Tenor</i></a></td><td align='right'>77</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />GREAT BRITAIN:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Bennett (Arnold)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#A_GOOD_WOMAN"><i>A Good Woman</i></a></td><td align='right'>89</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Calderon (George)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_LITTLE_STONE_HOUSE"><i>The Little Stone House</i></a></td><td align='right'>99</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Cannan (Gilbert)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#MARYS_WEDDING"><i>Mary's Wedding</i></a></td><td align='right'>111</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Crocker (Bosworth)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_BABY_CARRIAGE"><i>The Baby Carriage</i></a></td><td align='right'>119</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Dowson (Ernest)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_PIERROT_OF_THE_MINUTE"><i>The Pierrot of the Minute</i></a></td><td align='right'>133</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ellis (Mrs. Havelock)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#KEZIA"><i>The Subjection of Kezia</i></a></td><td align='right'>145</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Hankin (St. John)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CONSTANT_LOVER"><i>The Constant Lover</i></a></td><td align='right'>155</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />INDIA:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mukerji (Dhan Gopal)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_JUDGMENT_OF_INDRA"><i>The Judgment of Indra</i></a></td><td align='right'>165</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />IRELAND:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Gregory (Lady)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_WORKHOUSE_WARD"><i>The Workhouse Ward</i></a></td><td align='right'>173</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />HOLLAND:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Speenhoff (J. H.)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#LOUISE"><i>Louise</i></a></td><td align='right'>181</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />HUNGARY:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Biro (Lajos)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#GRANDMOTHER"><i>The Grandmother</i></a></td><td align='right'>191</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />ITALY:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Giacosa (Giuseppe)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_SOUL"><i>The Rights of the Soul</i></a></td><td align='right'>201</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />RUSSIA:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Andreyev (Leonid)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#LOVE_OF_ONES_NEIGHBOR"><i>Love of One's Neighbor</i></a></td><td align='right'>213</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Tchekoff (Anton)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_BOOR"><i>The Boor</i></a></td><td align='right'>227</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />SPAIN:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Benevente (Jacinto)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#HIS_WIDOWS_HUSBAND"><i>His Widow's Husband</i></a></td><td align='right'>237</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Quinteros (The)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#A_SUNNY_MORNING"><i>A Sunny Morning</i></a></td><td align='right'>253</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />SWEDEN:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Strindberg (August)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CREDITOR"><i>The Creditor</i></a></td><td align='right'>261</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Wied (Gustav)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#AUTUMN_FIRES"><i>Autumn Fires</i></a></td><td align='right'>289</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />UNITED STATES:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Beach (Lewis)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#BROTHERS"><i>Brothers</i></a></td><td align='right'>303</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Cowan (Sada)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#MORGUE"><i>In the Morgue</i></a></td><td align='right'>313</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Cronyn (George W.)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#A_DEATH_IN_FEVER_FLAT"><i>A Death in Fever Flat</i></a></td><td align='right'>319</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Davies (Mary Carolyn)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_SLAVE_WITH_TWO_FACES"><i>The Slave with Two Faces</i></a></td><td align='right'>329</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Day (Frederic L.)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_SLUMP"><i>The Slump</i></a></td><td align='right'>337</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Flanner (Hildegarde)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#MANSIONS"><i>Mansions</i></a></td><td align='right'>349</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Glaspell (Susan)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#TRIFLES"><i>Trifles</i></a></td><td align='right'>361</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Gerstenberg (Alice)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_POT_BOILER"><i>The Pot Boiler</i></a></td><td align='right'>371</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Helburn (Theresa)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#ENTER_THE_HERO"><i>Enter the Hero</i></a></td><td align='right'>383</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Hudson (Holland)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_SHEPHERD_IN_THE_DISTANCE"><i>The Shepherd in the Distance</i></a></td><td align='right'>395</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Kemp (Harry)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#BOCCACCIOS_UNTOLD_TALE"><i>Boccaccio's Untold Tale</i></a></td><td align='right'>407</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Langner (Lawrence)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#ANOTHER_WAY_OUT"><i>Another Way Out</i></a></td><td align='right'>419</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Millay (Edna St. Vincent)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#ARIA_DA_CAPO"><i>Aria Da Capo</i></a></td><td align='right'>431</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Moeller (Philip)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#HELENAS_HUSBAND"><i>Helena's Husband</i></a></td><td align='right'>443</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">MacMillan (Mary)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_SHADOWED_STAR"><i>The Shadowed Star</i></a></td><td align='right'>455</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">O'Neill (Eugene G.)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#ILE"><i>Ile</i></a></td><td align='right'>465</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Stevens (Thomas Wood)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_NURSERY_MAID_OF_HEAVEN"><i>The Nursery Maid of Heaven</i></a></td><td align='right'>477</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Stevens (Wallace)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THREE_TRAVELERS_WATCH_A_SUNRISE"><i>Three Travelers Watch a Sunrise</i></a></td><td align='right'>493</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Tompkins (Frank G.)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#SHAM"><i>Sham</i></a></td><td align='right'>501</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Walker (Stuart)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_MEDICINE_SHOW"><i>The Medicine Show</i></a></td><td align='right'>511</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Wellman (Rita)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#FOR_ALL_TIME"><i>For All Time</i></a></td><td align='right'>517</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Wilde (Percival)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#THE_FINGER_OF_GOD"><i>The Finger of God</i></a></td><td align='right'>529</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br />YIDDISH:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Asch (Sholom)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#NIGHT"><i>Night</i></a></td><td align='right'>537</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Pinski (David)</span></td><td align='left'><a href="#FORGOTTEN_SOULS"><i>Forgotten Souls</i></a></td><td align='right'>545</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><br /><a href="#BIBLIOGRAPHY">BIBLIOGRAPHY</a></td><td> </td><td align='right'>553</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="MADONNA_DIANORA" id="MADONNA_DIANORA"></a>MADONNA DIANORA</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play in Verse</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By Hugo Von Hofmannsthal</span><br /> + +<small>Translated from the German by Harriet Betty Boas.</small></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1916, by Richard S. Badger.<br /> + +Toronto: The Copp Clark Co., Limited.<br /> + +Copyright, 1920, The Four Seas Co., Boston.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>MADONNA DIANORA</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play in Verse</p> +<p class="alignright">By Hugo von Hofmannsthal</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p class="noidt"> +<span class="smcap">La Demente</span>: <i>"Conosci la storia di Madonna Dianor?"</i></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +<span class="smcap">Il Medico</span>: <i>"Vagamente. Non ricordo piu."...</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Sogno d'un mattino di primavera.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene</span>: <i>The garden of a somber Lombardian +Palace. To the right the wall of +a house, which is at an angle with the +moderately high garden wall that encloses +it. The lower portion of the house is +built of rough granite, above which rests +a strip of plain marble forming a sill, +which, under each window, is adorned +with a lion's head in repose. Two windows +are visible, each one having a small +angular balcony with a stone railing, +spaced sufficiently to show the feet of +those standing there. Both windows are +curtained to the floor. The garden is a +mere lawn with a few scattered fruit +trees. The corner of the garden between +the wall and the house is crowded with +high box wood bushes. A leafy grapevine, +trained over stunted chestnut trees, +forms an arbor which completely fills the +left side of the stage; only this entrance +is visible. The arbor slants irregularly +to the left rear. Behind the rear wall +there may be seen (by the gallery spectator) +a narrow path beyond which is +the neighbor's garden wall—no house is +visible. In the neighbor's garden and as +far as the eye can reach, the tops of the +trees are illuminated by the evening glow +of a brilliant sunset.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>at the window</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt">A harvester I see, and not the last,<br /> +No, not the last, descending from the hill.<br /> +There are three more, and there, and there!<br /> +Have you no end, you never-ending day?<br /> +How have I dragged the hours away from you,<br /> +Torn them to shreds and cast them in the flood,<br /> +As I do now with these poor tattered blooms!<br /> +How have I coaxed each minute of this day.<br /> +Each bracelet, and each earring was clasped on,<br /> +Ta'en off again, then once more tried, until<br /> +'Twas thrown aside, exchanged, and others brought—<br /> +I slowly dripped the fountain, drop on drop<br /> +All through my tresses, dried them languidly;<br /> +With quiet, measured step, out in the sun<br /> +I walked me to and fro—oh! to and fro!<br /> +But 'twas still damp—the path is narrow there.<br /> +I looked among the bushes, for the birds,—<br /> +Less than a zephyr's breath I bent them back,<br /> +Those swaying branches, sat 'neath rustling trees,<br /> +And felt on cheeks and hands in waiting woe<br /> +The little flickerings of warm sunshine.<br /> +I closed my eyes, and almost thought soft lips<br /> +Gently caressing, strayed my clammy brow.<br /> +Sometimes hours come when this duplicity,<br /> +All this concealment, seems so fruitless, and<br /> +I cannot bear it. I can only gaze<br /> +With eyes of steel far up into the sky<br /> +Where flocks of wild geese float, or bend me low<br /> +O'er some mad, rushing plunging waterfall<br /> +That tears my weakling shadow with its flow,—<br /> +I will be patient—why, I must, I am!—<br /> +Madonna—I will climb the steepest mount<br /> +And on my knees will count me every stone<br /> +With this, my rosary, if only now,<br /> +Oh, soon,—this day will sink into the night.<br /> +It is so long! I have its measured tread<br /> +With these same beads been scanning o'er and o'er.<br /> +And now I talk so fev'rishly, instead<br /> +Of counting all the leaves upon that tree.<br /> +Oh! I have finished much too soon again.<br /> +See! See the yeoman, calling to his dog.<br /> +The shadows do upon his garden fall,<br /> +For him the night has come, but brings no joy;<br /> +He fears it, locks his door and is alone.—<br /> +See where the maidens wander to the well.<br /> +I know the manner in which each of them<br /> +Will fill her bucket—that one's prettiest.<br /> +Why does the stranger at the cross roads stay?<br /> +Distant's his goal, I warrant. He unwinds<br /> +And folds again the cloth about his feet.<br /> +What an existence! Draw the thorns, yes, draw<br /> +Them quickly out. You must speed. We all<br /> +Must hurry on, the restless day must down<br /> +And with it take this bright and scarlet glow<br /> +That's lingering in radiance on my cheeks.<br /> +All that is troubling us cast far away,<br /> +Fling wide the thorn into the field<br /> +Where waters flow and sheaves of brilliant flow'rs<br /> +Are bending, glowing, yearning towards the night.—<br /> +I draw my rings from off my fingers, and<br /> +They're happy as the naked children are<br /> +Who scamper quickly to the brook to bathe.—<br /> +Now all the girls have gone—<br /> +Only one maiden's left. Oh, what lovely hair!<br /> +I wonder if she knows its beauty's power?<br /> +Perhaps she's vain—but vanity, thou art<br /> +A plaything only for the empty years.<br /> +When once she has arrived where I am now,<br /> +She'll love her hair, she'll let it clasp her close,<br /> +Enwrap her round and whisper to her low,<br /> +Like echoing harpstrings throbbing with the touch<br /> +Of fev'rish fingers straying in the dark.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She loosens her hair and lets it fall +to the left and to the right in front +of her.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What, would you close to me? Down, down with you.—<br /> +I bid you greet him. When the dusk has come,<br /> +And when his hands hold fast the ladder there<br /> +A-sudden he will feel, instead the leaves,<br /> +The cool, firm leaves, a gently spraying rain,<br /> +A rain that falls at eve from golden clouds.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She lets her hair fall over the balustrade.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +You are so long, and yet you barely reach<br /> +A third the distance; hardly are your ends<br /> +Touching the cold, white marble lion's nose.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She laughs and rises.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Ah! there's a spider! No, I will not fling<br /> +You off; I lay my hand once more<br /> +Upon this spot, so you may find again<br /> +The road you wish to speed so quickly on.<br /> +How I have changed! I am bewitched indeed!<br /> +In former days, I could not touch the fruit<br /> +Within a basket, if upon its edge<br /> +A spider had been seen. Now in my hand<br /> +It runs.—Intoxication makes me glad!<br /> +Why, I could walk along the very edge<br /> +Of narrow walls, and would not totter—no!—<br /> +Could I but fall into the waters deep!<br /> +In their cool velvet arms I would be well,<br /> +Sliding in grottoes of bright sapphire hues<br /> +Playing with wondrous beings of the deep<br /> +All golden finned, with eyes benignly sad.<br /> +Yes, if I were immured in the chestnut woods<br /> +Within some ruined walls, my soul were free.<br /> +For there the forest's animals would come<br /> +And tiny birds. The little weasels would<br /> +Brush up against and touch my naked toes<br /> +With their soft snouts and lashes of bright eyes<br /> +While in the moss I lay and ate wild fruit.—<br /> +What's rustling? 'Tis the little porcupine<br /> +Of that first night. What, are you there again,<br /> +Stepped from the dark? Art going on the hunt?<br /> +Oh! If my hunter would but come to me!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Looking up.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Now have the shadows vanished! Gone are all<br /> +Those of the pines and those of the dolls,<br /> +The ones that played about the little huts,<br /> +The large ones from the vineyards and the one<br /> +Upon the figtree at the crossroads—gone<br /> +As though the quiet earth had sucked them in!<br /> +The night has really come! The lamp<br /> +Is placed upon the table, closely press<br /> +The sheep together—close within the fold.<br /> +Within the darkest corners of the eaves<br /> +Where the dustvine-leaves meet, goblins do crouch,<br /> +And on the heights from out the clearing step<br /> +The blessed saints to gaze where churches stand<br /> +Well pleased at seeing chapels manifold.<br /> +Now, sweetest plaything, you may also come,<br /> +Finer than spider's web, stronger than steel.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She fastens one end of the silk +ladder to an iron hook on the floor +in the balcony.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Let me now play that it were highest time<br /> +And dip you deep down, down into my well,<br /> +To bring this parched one a sparkling draught.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She pulls the ladder up again.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Night, night has come! And yet how long might be,<br /> +Endlessly long, the time until he comes.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She wrings her hands.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Might be!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>With shining eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +But must not—yet, it might—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She puts up her hair. During this +time the nurse has stepped to the +front window and waters the red +flowers there.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>much frightened</i>]. Who's +there, who's there! Oh, nurse, nurse, is +it you? I've ne'er before seen you in +here so late. Has ought occurred?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Why nothing, gracious one. +Do you not see, I quite forgot my flowers—they've +not been watered. On my +way from church I suddenly remembered, +quickly came.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Yes, give the flowers water. +But how strange you look, your cheeks +are feverish, your eyes are shining—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> [<i>does not answer</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Who preached? Tell me, +was it that monk, the one—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> [<i>curtly</i>]. Yes, gracious one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> The one from Spain, is it not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> [<i>does not answer—pause</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>following her own train of +thoughts</i>]. Can you recall the kind of +child I was?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Proud, gracious one, a proud +child, very proud.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>very softly</i>]. How singular! +Humanity's so sweet!—What?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> I said no word, my gracious +Lady, none—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Yes, yes, whom does the +Spanish monk resemble?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> He is different from the others.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> No—his appearance! Does +he resemble my husband?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> No, gracious one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> My brother-in-law?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Ser Antonio Melzi?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Messer Galeazza Swardi?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Messer Palla degli Albizzi?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> His voice is a little like Messer +Palla's—yes—I said to my son yesterday, +that his voice reminded me a little +of Messer Palla's voice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> The voice—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> But his eyes are like Messer +Guido Schio, the nephew of our gracious lord.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>is silent</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> I met him on the stairs yesterday—he +stopped—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>suddenly flaring up</i>]. Messer Palla?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> No! Our gracious lord. He +ordered me to make some ointment. His +wound is not yet entirely healed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Oh, yes! The horse's bite—did +he show it to you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Yes—the back of the hand +is quite healed, but on the palm there's +a small dark spot, a curious spot, such +as I've never seen in a wound—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> What horse did it, I wonder?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> The big roan, gracious Lady.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Yes, yes, I remember. It +was on the day of Francesco Chieregati's +wedding. [<i>She laughs loudly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> [<i>looks at her</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> I was thinking of something +else. He told about it at table—he +wore his arm in a sling. How was it, +do you remember?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> What, gracious one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> With the horse—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Don't you remember, gracious one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> He spoke about it at table. +But I could not hear it. Messer Palla +degli Albizzi sat next to me, and was so +merry, and everybody laughed, so I could +not hear just what my husband said.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> When our gracious lord came +to the stall, the roan put back his ears, +foamed with rage and suddenly snapped +at the master's hand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> And then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Then the master hit the roan +behind the ears with his fist so that the +big, strong horse staggered back as +though it were a dog—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>is silent, looks dreamily +down</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Oh, our gracious lord is +strong! He is the strongest gentleman +of all the nobility the country 'round, +and the cleverest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Yes, indeed. [<i>Attentively +now.</i>] Who?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Our master.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Ah! our master. [<i>Smiles.</i>]—and +his voice is so beautiful, and that +is why everybody loves to listen to him +in the large, dark church.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Listen to whom, gracious one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> To the Spanish monk, to whom else?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> No, my Lady, it isn't because +of his voice that people listen to him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>is again not listening</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Gracious one—my Lady—is +it true—what people say about the envoy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> What envoy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> The envoy whom the people +of Como sent to our master.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> What are people saying?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> They say a shepherd saw it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> What did he see?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Our gracious lord was angry +at the envoy—would not accept the letter +that the people of Como had written +him. Then he took it anyhow—the letter—read +part of it, tore it into bits +and held the pieces before the envoy's +mouth and demanded that he swallow +them. But the envoy went backwards, +like a crab, and made stary eyes just +like a crab, and everybody laughed, especially +Signor Silvio, the master's +brother. Then the master sent for the +envoy's mule and had it brought to the +gates. When the envoy was too slow +in mounting, the master whistled for the +dogs. The envoy left with his two yeomen. +Our master went hunting with +seven men and all the dogs. Towards +evening, however, they say that our gracious +lord, and the envoy met at the +bridge over the Adda, there where Verese +begins—our master and the envoy met. +And the shepherd was passing and drove +his sheep next to the bridge into a wheat-field—so +that the horses would not kill +them. And the shepherd heard our master +cry, "There's the one who wouldn't +eat, perhaps he'd like to drink." So four +of our men seized the two yeomen, two +others took the envoy, each one took hold +of a leg, lifted him from the saddle—threw +him screaming like a madman and +struggling fiercely, over the parapet—he +tore out a piece of the sleeve of one, +together with the flesh. The Adda has +very steep banks at that place—the river +was dark and swollen from all the snow +on the mountains. The envoy did not appear +again, said the shepherd.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Nurse stops, looks questioningly at +Dianora.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>anxiously</i>]. I do not know.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She shakes off the worried expression, +her face assumes the dreamy, +inwardly happy expression.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Tell me something about +his preaching—the Spaniard's preaching.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> I don't know how to express +it, gracious one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Just say a little. Does he +preach of so many things?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> No, almost always about one +thing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Of resignation to the Lord's +will.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>looks at her and nods</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Gracious one, you must understand, +that is all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> What do you mean by—all——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> [<i>while speaking, she is occupied +with the flowers</i>]. He says that all of +life is in that—there's nothing else. He +says everything is inevitable and that's +the greatest joy—to realize that everything +is inevitable—that is good, and +there is no other good. The sun must +glow, and stone must be on the dumb +earth and every living creature must +give utterance to its voice—whether he +will or no—we must——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>is thinking—like a child</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> [<i>goes from window—pause</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">As though 'twere mirrored in a placid pool<br /> +Self-prisoned lies the world asleep, adream—<br /> +The ivy's tendrils clamber through the dusk<br /> +Closely embracing thousandfold the wall.<br /> +An arbor vitae towers. At its feet<br /> +The quiet waters mirror what they see.<br /> +And from this window, on this balustrade<br /> +Of cool and heavy stones, I bend me o'er<br /> +Stretching my arms so they may touch the ground.<br /> +I feel as though I were a dual being<br /> +Gazing within me at my other self.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Methinks such thoughts crowd in upon the soul<br /> +When grim, inexorable death is near.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She shudders and crosses herself.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> [<i>has returned several times to +the window; in one hand she carries +scissors with which she clips the dry +branches from the plants</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>startled</i>]. What? Good +night, nurse, farewell. I'm dizzy, faint.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> [<i>goes off</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>with a great effort</i>]. Nurse! +Nurse!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> [<i>comes back</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> If the Spanish monk +preaches to-morrow, I'll go with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Yes, to-morrow, my Lady, if +the Lord spare us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>laughs</i>]. Certainly,—if the +Lord spare us. Good night.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A long pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">His voice is all he has, the strange monk,<br /> +Yet people flock, hang on his words like bees<br /> +Upon the dark sweet blossoms, and they say<br /> +"This man is not like others—he<br /> +Does shake our souls, his voice melts into space,<br /> +Floats down to us, and penetrates our being—<br /> +We are all like children when we hear his voice."—<br /> +Oh, if a judge could have his lofty brow,<br /> +Who would not kneel upon the steps to read<br /> +Each sentence from his clear and shining brow.<br /> +How sweet to kneel upon the honest step<br /> +And know one's fate were safe within that hand,<br /> +Within those kingly, good and noble hands.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="noidt">And oh, his merriment! How exquisite!<br /> +To see such people merry is a joy,<br /> +—He took me by the hand and drew me on.<br /> +My blood ran magic, backward stretched my hand.<br /> +The laughing throng upon it closely hung<br /> +A sinuous chain, we flew along arbored walks<br /> +Down through a deep and steep and narrow path<br /> +Cool as a well, and bordered very close<br /> +With cypresses that lived a century—<br /> +Then down the brightest slope.<br /> +Up to my knees the wild, warm flowers kissed<br /> +Where we were running like a breeze in May.<br /> +Then he released me, and along he leapt<br /> +Upon the marble stairs between cascades;<br /> +Astride he sat upon the dolphin's back<br /> +And held himself up on the arms of fauns,<br /> +Upon the dripping Triton's shoulders stood<br /> +Mounting always; high, higher still he clomb,<br /> +The wildest, handsomest of all the gods!—<br /> +Beneath his feet the waters bubbled forth,<br /> +They sparkled, foamed, and showered the air with spray,<br /> +Falling on me. The waves' tumultuous din<br /> +Drowned out, engulfed the entire world,<br /> +Beneath his feet the waters bubbled forth,<br /> +They sparkled, foamed and showered their spray on me.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pause—footsteps are heard in the +distance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span> Sh! Footsteps! No, it is +so much too soon—And yet—and yet—[<i>long +waiting</i>] they come.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +They do not come—<br /> +Oh, no, they do not come—They're shuffling steps,<br /> +They shuffle down the vineyard—now they reel—<br /> +There are the steps! A drunkard, verily!<br /> +Stay in the street, intoxicated one.<br /> +What would you do within our garden gates?—<br /> +No moon shines here to-night—were there a moon<br /> +I were not here—no, no, I were not here.<br /> +The little stars are flick'ring restlessly,<br /> +They cannot light the way for a drunken one,<br /> +But one not drunken from a musty wine.<br /> +His footsteps are as light as wind on grass<br /> +And surer than the tread of the young lion.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +These hours are martyrdom! No, no, no, no,<br /> +They're not—no, they are beautiful and good,<br /> +And lovely and so sweet! He comes, he comes;<br /> +A long, long way already he has walked—<br /> +The last tall tree down there has seen him come—-<br /> +It could—if that dark strip of woodland boughs<br /> +Did not obscure the road—and 'twere not dark—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +He comes—as certainly as I do now<br /> +Upon this hook bend this frail ladder—comes.<br /> +As surely as I now do let it down<br /> +In rustling murmur in the leaves enmeshed,<br /> +As certainly as it now swaying hangs,<br /> +Quivering softly as I bend me low,<br /> +Myself aquiver with a greater thrill—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She remains for a long time bent +over the balustrade. Suddenly +she seems to hear the curtain between +her balcony and the room +thrown back. She turns her head +and her features are distorted in +deathly fear and terror. Messer +Braccio stands silently in the door. +He wears a simple, dark green +robe, carries no weapons—his +shoes are low. He is very tall and +strong. His face resembles the +portraits of aristocrats and captains +of mercenaries. He has an +extremely large forehead and +small dark eyes, closely cropped, +curly black hair and a small beard +that covers his cheeks and chin.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>wants to speak, but is unable +to utter a sound</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Messer Braccio</span> [<i>beckons to her to pull +up the ladder</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>does so like an automaton +and drops the bundle, as in a trance, at +her feet</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>looks at her quietly, reaches +with his right hand to his left hip, also +with his left hand; notices that he has no +dagger. He moves his lips impatiently, +glances toward the garden, then over his +shoulders. He lifts his right hand for a +moment and examines his palm, then +walks firmly and quickly back into the +room</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>looks after him incessantly; +she cannot take her eyes away from him. +As the curtain closes behind his retreating +form, she passes her fingers excitedly +over her face and through her hair, then +folds her hands and murmurs a prayer, +her lips wildly convulsed. Then she +throws her arms backwards and folds +them above the stone pillar, in a gesture +that indicates a desperate resolve and +a triumphant expectancy</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>steps into the doorway again, +carrying an armchair, which he places +in the opening of the door. He seats +himself on it, facing his wife. His face +does not change. From time to time he +raises his right hand mechanically and +examines the little wound upon his palm</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>his tone is cold, rather disdainful. +He points with his foot and +eyes to the ladder</i>]. Who?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>raises her shoulders, and +drops them slowly</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio.</span> I know!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>raises her shoulders and +drops them slowly. Her teeth are +clenched</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>moves his hand, barely +glances at his wife, and looks again into +the garden</i>]. Palla degli Albizzi!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>between her teeth</i>]. How +ugly the most beautiful name becomes +when uttered by unseemly tongue.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>looks at her as though he +were about to speak, but remains silent. +Pause</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio.</span> How old are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>does not answer</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio.</span> Fifteen and five. You are +twenty years old.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>does not answer. Pause</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>almost screaming</i>]. My +father's name was Bartholomeno Colleone—you +can let me say the Lord's Prayer +and the Hail Mary, and then kill me, +but not let me stand here like a fettered +beast.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>looks at her as though surprised; +does not answer—glances at his +hand</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>strokes back her hair slowly, +folds her elbows over her breast, stares +at him, then drops her arms, seems to +divine his plan. Her voice is completely +changed and is like a string that is +stretched to the breaking-point</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt">One of my women I desire, who will—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stops; her voice seems to give +out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt">First braid my hair—'tis tangled, disarranged.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio.</span> You often help yourself +without a maid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>presses her lips together, +says nothing, smoothes her hair at the +temples, folds her hands</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt">I have no children. My mother I saw once—<br /> +I saw her once, just before she died.<br /> +My father led me and my sister to<br /> +A vaulted, high, severe and gloomy room.<br /> +The suff'rer I saw not; her hand alone<br /> +Hung like a greeting to me—that I kissed.<br /> +About my father I remember this.<br /> +He wore an armor of green burnished gold<br /> +With darker clasps—two always helped him mount<br /> +Upon his horse, for he was very old—<br /> +I hardly knew Medea. Not much joy,<br /> +Had she, my sister. Thin of hair,<br /> +Her forehead and her temples older seemed,<br /> +Much older, than her mouth and her hands to me—<br /> +She always held a flower in her hand.—<br /> +O Lord, have mercy unto these sweet souls<br /> +As unto mine, and bid them welcome me,<br /> +Greeting me kindly when I come to Thee.<br /> +I cannot kneel—there is no space to kneel.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>rises, pushes the chair into +the room to make space for her. She +does not notice him</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">There's more—I must remember—Bergamo,<br /> +Where I was born—the house in Feltre where<br /> +The uncles and the cousins were....<br /> +Then they put me upon a gallant steed<br /> +Caparisoned most splendidly—they rode,<br /> +Cousins and many others by my side.<br /> +And so I came here, from whence I now go....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She has leaned back and looked up +at the glittering stars upon the +black sky—she shudders</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt">I wanted something else—</p> + + +<p class="salute">[<i>She searches her memory.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt">In Bergamo where I was taught to walk<br /> +Upon the path that brought me here, I was<br /> +Often—most frequently through pride,—and now<br /> +I am contrite and would go to confession<br /> +For all those errors, and some graver ones;—<br /> +When I [<i>She ponders.</i>]—three days after Saint Magdalen<br /> +Was riding homeward from the chase with him.<br /> +This man, here, who's my husband—others too—<br /> +Upon the bridge an old lame beggar lay.<br /> +I knew that he was old and ill and sore<br /> +And there was something in his tired eyes<br /> +Reminded me of my dead father—but<br /> +Nevertheless—only because the one<br /> +Riding beside me touched my horse's bridle,<br /> +I did not pull aside, but let the dust<br /> +My horse kicked up, blind, choke that poor old man.<br /> +Yes, so close I rode that with his hands<br /> +He had to lift aside his injured leg.<br /> +This I remember, this I now regret.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio.</span> The one beside you held +your horse's bridle? [<i>He looks at her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>answers his look, understands +him, says trenchantly</i>]:</p> + +<p class="noidt">Yes! Then as often since—as often since—<br /> +And yet how rarely after all!<br /> +How meager is all joy—a shallow stream<br /> +In which you're forced to kneel, that it may reach<br /> +Up to your shoulders—<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Of my servants who,—of all your women,<br /> +Who knew of these things?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>is silent</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>makes a disdainful gesture</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Falsely, quite falsely, you interpret now<br /> +My silence. How can I tell you who might know?—<br /> +But if you think that I am one of those<br /> +Who hides behind her hireling's her joy,<br /> +You know me ill. Now note—note and take heed.<br /> +Once may a woman be—yes, once she may<br /> +Be as I was for twelve weeks—once she may be<br /> +If she had found no need of veil before,<br /> +All veiled, protected by her own great pride<br /> +As by a shield—she once may rend that veil,<br /> +Feel her cheeks crimson, burning in the sun.<br /> +Horrible she, who twice could such a thing!<br /> +I'm not of these—that surely you must know.<br /> +Who knew?—Who guessed? I never hid my thoughts?<br /> +Your brother must have known—just as you knew,<br /> +Your brother just as you. Ask him, ask him!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Her voice is strange, almost childlike, +yet exalted.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +That day—'twas in July, Saint Magdalen<br /> +Francesco Chieregati's wedding day—<br /> +That nasty thing upon your hand came then,<br /> +Came on that day. Well, I remember too<br /> +We dined out in the arbor—near the lake,<br /> +And he sat next to me, while opposite<br /> +Your brother sat. Then passing me the fruit,<br /> +Palla did hold the heavy gold dish<br /> +Of luscious peaches so that I might take.<br /> +My eyes were fastened on his hands—I longed<br /> +To humbly kiss his hands, there,—before all.<br /> +Your brother—he's malicious and no fool—<br /> +Caught this my glance, and must have guessed my thought.<br /> +He paled with anger.—Sudden came a dog,<br /> +A tall dark greyhound brushed his slender head<br /> +Against my hand—the left one by my side,—<br /> +Your stupid brother kicked in furious rage<br /> +With all his might, the dog—only because<br /> +He could not with a shining dagger pierce<br /> +Me and my lover. I but looked at him.<br /> +Caressed and stroked the dog, and had to laugh<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She laughs immoderately and shrilly +in a way that threatens to be a +scream, or to break into tears at +any moment.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>seems to listen</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>also listens. Her face expresses +horrible tension. Soon she cannot +bear it, begins to speak again almost +deliriously</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt">Why whosoever saw me walk would know!<br /> +Walked I not differently? Did not I ride<br /> +Ecstatically? I could look at you<br /> +And at your brother and this gloomy house<br /> +And feel as light as air, floating in space.<br /> +The myriad trees seemed all to come to me<br /> +Filled with the sunlight dancing toward me,<br /> +All paths were open in the azure air—<br /> +Those sunlit paths were all the roads to him.<br /> +To start with fright was sweet—he might appear<br /> +From any corner, any bush or tree—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Her language becomes incoherent +from terror, because she sees that +Braccio has drawn the curtains behind +him close. Her eyes are unnaturally +wide open—her lips +drawn more constantly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>in a tone that the actor must +find for himself, not loud, not low, not +strong, nor yet weak, but penetrating</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt">If I, your husband, had not at this hour<br /> +Come to your chamber to fetch me a salve,<br /> +An ointment for my wounded hand—<br /> +What would—<br /> +What had you done, intended, meant to do?<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dianora</span> [<i>looks at him, as though distraught, +does not understand his latest +question. Her right hand presses her +forehead—with the left she shakes the +ladder before his face, lets it fall at his +feet, one end remains tied, shrieks</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt">What had I done? What had I done, you ask?<br /> +Why, waited thus—I would have waited—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She sways her open arms before +him like one intoxicated, throws +herself around, with the upper +part of her body over the balustrade, +stretches her arms towards +the ground—her hair falls over +them.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Braccio</span> [<i>with a hurried gesture tears +off a piece of his sleeve and winds it +around his right hand. With the sureness +of a wild animal on the hunt, he +grasps the ladder that is lying there, like +a thin, dark rope, with both hands, makes +a loop, throws it over his wife's head +and pulls her body towards him.</i>]</p> + + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">[<i>During this time the curtain falls.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="LITERATURE" id="LITERATURE"></a>LITERATURE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By Arthur Schnitzler</span><br /> + +<small><span class="smcap">Translated by Pierre Loving.</span></small></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1917, by Stewart & Kidd Company.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> +<p> </p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Margaret.<br />Clement.<br />Gilbert.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Literature</span> is reprinted from "Comedies of Words" by Arthur Schnitzler, by<br /> +permission of Messrs. Stewart & Kidd Company, Cincinnati, Ohio.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>LITERATURE</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Arthur Schnitzler</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>Moderately well, but quite +inexpensively furnished apartments occupied +by Margaret. A small fireplace, a +table, a small escritoire, a settee, a wardrobe +cabinet, two windows in the back, +entrances left and right.</i></p> + +<p><i>As the curtain rises, Clement, dressed +in a modish, tarnished-gray sack suit, is +discovered reclining in a fauteuil near +the fireplace. He is smoking a cigarette +and perusing a newspaper. Margaret +is standing at the window. She walks +back and forth, finally goes up directly +behind Clement, and playfully musses +his hair. Evidently she has something +troublesome on her mind.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> [<i>reading, seizes her hand and +kisses it</i>]. Horner's certain about his +pick and doubly certain about mine; +Waterloo five to one; Barometer twenty-one +to one; Busserl seven to one; Attila +sixteen to one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Sixteen to one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Lord Byron one and one-half +to one—that's us, my dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Besides, it's sixteen weeks yet +to the Handicap.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Evidently he looks upon it as +a clean "runaway."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Not quite—but where did you +pick up your turf-lingo, Brava?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Oh, I used this kind of talk +before I knew you. Is it settled that +you are to ride Lord Byron yourself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> How absurd to ask! You forget, +it's the Damenpreis Handicap. +Whom else could I get to ride him? +And if Horner thought for a moment +that I wasn't going to ride him, he'd +never put up one and a half to one. You +may stake all you've got on that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I'm well aware of that. You +are <i>so</i> handsome when you mount a horse—honest +and truly, too sweet for anything! +I shall never forget that day in +Munich, when I first made your acquaintance—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Please do not remind me of it. +I had rotten luck that day. But you +can believe me, Windy would never have +won if it weren't for the ten lengths he +gained at the start. But this time—never! +You know, of course, it is decided; +we leave town the same day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Same evening, you mean.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> If you will—but why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Because it's been arranged +we're to be married in the morning, +hasn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Quite so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I am so happy. [<i>Embraces +him.</i>] Now, where shall we spend our +honeymoon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I take it we're agreed. Aren't +we? On the estate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Oh, of course, later. Aren't +we going to take in the Riviera, as a +preliminary tidbit?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> AS for that, it all depends on +the Handicap. If we win—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Surest thing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> And besides, in April the +Riviera's not at all good <i>ton</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Is that your reason?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Of course it is, my love. In +your former way of life, there were so +few opportunities for your getting a +clear idea of fashion—Pardon me, but +whatever there was, you must admit, +really had its origin in the comic journals.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Clem, please!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Well, well. We'll see. [<i>Continues +reading.</i>] Badegast fifteen to +one—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Badegast? There isn't a ghost +of a show for him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Where did you get that information?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Szigrati himself gave me a tip.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Where—and when?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Oh, this morning in the Fredenau, +while you were talking with Milner.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Now, look here; Szigrati isn't +fit company for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Jealous?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Not at all. Moreover, let it be +understood that from now on I shall introduce +you everywhere as my fiancée. [<i>Margaret kisses him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Now, what did Szigrati say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> That he's not going to enter +Badegast in the Handicap at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Well, don't you believe everything +Szigrati is likely to say. He's circulating +the rumor that Badegast will +not be entered so that the odds may be +bigger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Nonsense! That's too much +like an investment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> So you don't believe there is +such a thing as investment in this game? +For a great many it's all a commercial +enterprise. Do you think that a fellow +of Szigrati's ilk cares a fig for sport? +He might just as well speculate on the +market, and wouldn't realize the difference. +Anyway, as far as Badegast is +concerned, one hundred to one wouldn't +be too much to put up against him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Really? I found him in first-rate +fettle this morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Then you saw Badegast, too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Certainly. Didn't Butters put +him through his paces, right behind +Busserl?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> But Butters isn't riding for +Szigrati. He was only a stableboy. +Badegast can be in as fine fettle as he +chooses—it's all the same to me. He's +nothing but a blind. Some day, Margaret, +with the aid of your exceptional +talent, you will be able to distinguish the +veritable somebodies from the shams. +Really, it's remarkable with what proficiency +you have, so to speak, insinuated +yourself into all these things. You go +beyond my expectations.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>chagrined</i>]. Pray, why do I +go beyond your expectations? All this, +as you know, is not so new to me. At +our house we entertained very good +people—Count Libowski and people of +that sort—and at my husband's—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Quite so. No question about +that. As a matter of principle, you +realize, I've no grudge against the cotton +industry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Even if my husband happened +to be the owner of a cotton mill, that +didn't have to effect my personal outlook +on life, did it? I always sought +culture in my own way. Now, don't +let's talk of that period of my life. It's +dead and buried, thank heaven!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Yes. But there's another period +which lies nearer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I know. But why mention it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Well, I simply mean that you +couldn't possibly have heard much about +sportsmanship from your friends in +Munich—at least, as far as I am able +to judge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I do hope you will stop tormenting +me about those friends in whose +company you first made my acquaintance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Tormenting you? Nonsense! +Only it's incomprehensible to me how you +ever got amongst those people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> You speak of them as if they were a gang of criminals.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Dearest, I'd stake my honor on +it, some of them looked the very picture +of pickpockets. Tell me, how did you +manage to do it? I can't understand +how you, with your refined taste—let +alone your purity and the scent you used—could +have tolerated their society. +How could you have sat at the same +table with them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. Didn't you do the same?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Next to them—not with them. +And for your sake—merely for your +sake, as you know. To do them justice, +however, I will admit that many bettered +upon closer acquaintance. There were +some interesting people among them. +You mustn't for a moment believe, dearest, +that I hold myself superior to those +who happen to be shabbily dressed. +That's nothing against them. But there +was something in their conduct, in their +manners, which was positively revolting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> It wasn't quite so bad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Don't take offense, dear. I +said there were some interesting people +among them. But that a lady should +feel at ease in their company, for any +length of time, I cannot and do not pretend +to understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> You forget, dear Clem, that in +a sense I'm one of them—or was at one +time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Now, please! For my sake!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> They were artists.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Thank goodness, we've returned to the old theme.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Yes, because it hurts me to +think you always lose sight of that fact.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Lose sight of that fact! Nonsense! +You know what pained me in +your writings—things entirely personal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Let me tell you, Clem, there +are women who, in my situation, would +have done worse than write poetry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> But what sort of poetry! +What sort of poetry! [<i>Takes a slender +volume from the mantel-shelf.</i>] That's +what repels me. I assure you, every +time I see this book lying here; every +time I think of it, I blush with shame +that it was you who wrote it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> That's why you fail to understand— Now, don't take offense. If +you did understand, you'd be quite perfect, +and that, obviously, is impossible. +Why does it repel you? You know I +didn't live through all the experiences I +write about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I hope not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> The poems are only visions.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> That's just it. That's what +makes me ask: How can a lady indulge +in visions of that character? [<i>Reads.</i>] +"Abandoned on thy breast and suckled +by thy lips" [<i>shaking his head</i>]. How +can a lady write such stuff—how can +a lady have such stuff printed? That's +what I simply cannot make out. Everybody +who reads will inevitably conjure +up the person of the authoress, and the +particular breast mentioned, and the particular +abandonment hinted at.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> But, I'm telling you, no such +breast ever existed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I can't bring myself to imagine +that it did. That's lucky for both of us, +Margaret. But where did these visions +originate? These glowing passion-poems +could not have been inspired by your +first husband. Besides, he could never +appreciate you, as you yourself always +say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Certainly not. That's why I +brought suit for divorce. You know the +story. I just couldn't bear living with +a man who had no other interest in life +than eating and drinking and cotton.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I dare say. But that was three +years ago. These poems were written later.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Quite so. But consider the position +in which I found myself—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> What do you mean? You +didn't have to endure any privation? In +this respect you must admit your husband +acted very decently toward you. +You were not under the necessity of +earning your own living. And suppose +the publishers did pay you one hundred +gulden for a poem—surely they don't +pay more than that—still, you were not +bound to write a book of this sort.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I did not refer to position in a +material sense. It was the state of my +soul. Have you a notion how—when +you came to know me—things were considerably +improved. I had in many ways +found myself again. But in the beginning! +I was so friendless, so crushed! +I tried my hand at everything; I painted, +I gave English lessons in the pension +where I lived. Just think of it! A +divorcee, having nobody—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Why didn't you stay in Vienna?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Because I couldn't get along +with my family. No one appreciated me. +Oh, what people! Did any one of them +realize that a woman of my type asks +more of life than a husband, pretty +dresses and social position? My God! +If I had had a child, probably everything +would have ended differently—and maybe +not. I'm not quite lacking in accomplishments, +you know. Are you still prepared +to complain? Was it not for the +best that I went to Munich? Would I +have made your acquaintance else?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> You didn't go there with that +object in view.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I wanted to be free spiritually, +I mean. I wanted to prove to myself +whether I could succeed through my own +efforts. And, admit, didn't it look as if +I was jolly well going to? I had made +some headway on the road to fame.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> H'm!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> But you were dearer to me +than fame.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem</span> [<i>good-naturedly</i>]. And surer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I didn't give it a thought. I +suppose it's because I loved you from the +very start. For in my dreams, I always +conjured up a man of your likeness. +I always seemed to realize that it could +only be a man like you who would make +me happy. Blood—is no empty thing. +Nothing whatever can weigh in the balance +with that. You see, that's why I +can't resist the belief—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Oh, sometimes I think I must +have blue blood in my veins, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> How so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> It's not improbable?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I'm afraid I don't understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> But I told you that members +of the nobility were entertained at our +house—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Well, and if they were?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Who knows—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Margaret, you're positively +shocking. How can you hint at such a +thing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I can never say what I think +in your presence! That's your only +shortcoming—otherwise you would be +quite perfect. [<i>She smiles up to him.</i>] +You've won my heart completely. That +very first evening, when you walked into +the café with Wangenheim, I had an immediate +presentiment: this is he! You +came among that group, like a soul from +another world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I hope so. And I thank heaven +that somehow you didn't seem to be altogether +one of them, either. No. +Whenever I call to mind that junto—the +Russian girl, for instance, who because +of her close-cropped hair gave the +appearance of a student—except that +she did not wear a cap—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Baranzewitsch is a very gifted +painter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> No doubt. You pointed her +out to me one day in the picture gallery. +She was standing on a ladder at the time, +copying. And then the fellow with the +Polish name—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>beginning</i>]. Zrkd—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Spare yourself the pains. You +don't have to use it now any more. He +read something at the café while I was +there, without putting himself out the +least bit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> He's a man of extraordinary +talent. I'll vouch for it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Oh, no doubt. Everybody is +talented at the café. And then that +yokel, that insufferable—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Who?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> You know whom I mean. That +fellow who persisted in making tactless +observations about the aristocracy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Gilbert. You must mean Gilbert.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Yes. Of course. I don't feel +called upon to make a brief for my class. +Profligates crop up everywhere, even +among writers, I understand. But, don't +you know it was very bad taste on his +part while one of us was present?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> That's just like him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I had to hold myself in check +not to knock him down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> In spite of that, he was quite +interesting. And, then, you mustn't forget +he was raving jealous of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I thought I noticed that, too. [<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Good heavens, they were all +jealous of you. Naturally enough—you +were so unlike them. They all paid +court to me because I wouldn't discriminate +in favor of any one of them. You +certainly must have noticed that, eh? +Why are you laughing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Comical—is no word for it! +If some one had prophesied to me that +I was going to marry a regular frequenter +of the Café Maxmillian—I +fancied the two young painters most. +They'd have made an incomparable +vaudeville team. Do you know, they resembled +each other so much and owned +everything they possessed in common—and, +if I'm not mistaken, the Russian on +the ladder along with the rest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I didn't bother myself with +such things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> And, then, both must have been +Jews?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Why so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Oh, simply because they always +jested in such a way. And their +enunciation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> You may spare your anti-Semitic +remarks.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Now, sweetheart, don't be +touchy. I know that your blood is not +untainted, and I have nothing whatever +against the Jews. I once had a tutor in +Greek who was a Jew. Upon my word! +He was a capital fellow. One meets all +sorts and conditions of people. I don't +in the least regret having made the acquaintance +of your associates in Munich. +It's all the weave of our life experience. +But I can't help thinking that I must +have appeared to you like a hero come to +rescue you in the nick of time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Yes, so you did. My Clem! +Clem! [<i>Embraces him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> What are you laughing at?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Something's just occurred to +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> "Abandoned on thy breast +and—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> [<i>vexed</i>]. Please! Must you always +shatter my illusions?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Tell me truly, Clem, wouldn't +you be proud if your fiancée, your wife, +were to become a great, a famous writer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I have already told you. I am +rooted in my decision. And I promise +you that if you begin scribbling or publishing +poems in which you paint your +passion for me, and sing to the world +the progress of our love—it's all up +with our wedding, and off I go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> You threaten—you, who have +had a dozen well-known affairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> My dear, well-known or not, +I didn't tell anybody. I didn't bring out +a book whenever a woman abandoned +herself on my breast, so that any Tom, +Dick or Harry could buy it for a gulden +and a half. There's the rub. I know +there are people who thrive by it, but, as +for me, I find it extremely coarse. It's +more degrading to me than if you were +to pose as a Greek goddess in flesh-colored +tights at Ronacher's. A Greek +statue like that doesn't say "Mew." But +a writer who makes copy of everything +goes beyond the merely humorous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. Dearest, you forget +that the poet does not always tell the +truth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> And suppose he only vaporizes. +Does that make it any better?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> It isn't called vaporizing; it's +"<i>distillation</i>."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> What sort of an expression is +that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> We disclose things we never +experience, things we dreamed—plainly +invented.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Don't say "we" any more, +Margaret. Thank goodness, that is past.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Who knows?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>tenderly</i>]. Clement, I must +tell you all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> It is not past; I haven't given +up my writing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I'm still going on with my +writing, or, rather, I've finished writing +another book. Yes, the impulse is +stronger than most people realize. I +really believe I should have gone to +pieces if it hadn't been for my writing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> What have you written now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> A novel. The weight was too +heavy to be borne. It might have +dragged me down—down. Until to-day, +I tried to hide it from you, but it had +to come out at last. Künigel is immensely +taken with it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Who's Künigel?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> My publisher.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Then it's been read already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Yes, and lots more will read it. +Clement, you will have cause to be proud, +believe me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> You're mistaken, my dear. I +think—but, tell me, what's it about?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I can't tell you right off. The +novel contains the greatest part, so to +speak, and all that can be said of the +greatest part.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> My compliments!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> That's why I'm going to promise +you never to pick up a pen any more. +I don't need to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Margaret, do you love me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> What a question! You and +you only. Though I have seen a great +deal, though I have gadded about a great +deal, I have experienced comparatively +little. I have waited all my life for your +coming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Well, let me have the book.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Why—why? What do you +mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I grant you, there was some +excuse in your having written it; but it +doesn't follow that it's got to be read. +Let me have it, and we'll throw it into +the fire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Clem!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I make that request. I have +a right to make it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Impossible! It simply—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Why? If I wish it; if I tell +you our whole future depends on it. Do +you understand? Is it still impossible?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> But, Clement, the novel has already +been printed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> What! Printed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Yes. In a few days it will be on sale on all the book-stalls.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Margaret, you did all that without a word to me—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I couldn't do otherwise. When once you see it, you will forgive me. +More than that, you will be proud.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> My dear, this has progressed beyond a joke.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Clement!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Adieu, Margaret.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Clement, what does this mean? +You are leaving?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> As you see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> When are you coming back again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I can't say just now. Adieu.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Clement! [<i>Tries to hold him back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Please. [<i>Goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>alone</i>]. Clement! What does this mean? He's left me for good. +What shall I do? Clement! Is everything between us at an end? No. It can't be. Clement! +I'll go after him. [<i>She looks for her hat. The doorbell rings.</i>] +Ah, he's coming back. He only wanted to frighten me. Oh, my Clement! +[<i>Goes to the door. Gilbert enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> [<i>to the maid</i>]. I told you so. +Madame's at home. How do you do, Margaret?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>astonished</i>]. You?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> It's I—I. Amandus Gilbert.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I'm so surprised.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> So I see. There's no cause for it. I merely thought I'd stop over. +I'm on my way to Italy. I came to offer you my latest book for auld lang +syne. [<i>Hands her the book. As she does not take it, he places it on the +table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> It's very good of you. Thanks!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> You have a certain proprietorship in that book. So you are living +here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Yes, but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Opposite the stadium, I see. As far as furnished rooms go, it's passable +enough. But these family portraits on the walls would drive me crazy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> My housekeeper's the widow of a general.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Oh, you needn't apologize.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Apologize! Really, the idea never occurred to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> It's wonderful to hark back to it now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> To what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Why shouldn't I say it? To the small room in Steinsdorf street, +with its balcony abutting over the Isar. Do you remember, Margaret?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Suppose we drop the familiar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> As you please—as you please. [<i>Pause, then suddenly.</i>] You acted shamefully, Margaret.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Would you much rather that I beat around the bush? I can find no +other word, to my regret. And it was so uncalled for, too. Straightforwardness +would have done just as nicely. It was quite unnecessary to run away +from Munich under cover of a foggy night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> It wasn't night and it wasn't foggy. I left in the morning on the +eight-thirty train, in open daylight.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> At all events, you might have said good-by to me before leaving, eh? +[<i>Sits.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I expect the Baron back any minute.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What difference does that make? Of course, you didn't tell him that you +lay in my arms once and worshiped me. I'm just an old acquaintance from Munich. +And there's no harm in an old acquaintance calling to see you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Anybody but you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Why? Why do you persist in misunderstanding me? I assure you, I +come <i>only</i> as an old acquaintance. Everything else is dead and buried, long +dead and buried. Here. See for yourself. [<i>Indicates the book.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> What's that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> My latest novel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Have you taken to writing novels?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Certainly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Since when have you learned the trick?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Heavens, can't I remember? Thumb-nail sketches were your specialty, +observation of daily events.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. My specialty? My specialty is life itself. I write what suits +me. I do not allow myself to be circumscribed. +I don't see who's to prevent my +writing a novel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> But the opinion of an authority +was—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Pray, who's an authority?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I call to mind, for instance, an +article by Neumann in the "Algemeine"—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Neumann's a blamed +idiot! I boxed his ears for him once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> You—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> In effigy— But you were quite +as much wrought up about the business +as I at that time. We were perfectly +agreed that Neumann was a blamed idiot. +"How can such a numbskull dare"—these +were your very words—"to set +bounds to your genius? How can he +dare to stifle your next work still, so to +speak, in the womb?" You said that! +And to-day you quote that literary +hawker.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Please do not shout. My +housekeeper—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I don't propose to bother myself +about the widows of defunct generals +when every nerve in my body is a-tingle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> What did I say? I can't account +for your touchiness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Touchiness! You call me touchy? +You! Who used to be seized with a violent +fit of trembling every time some insignificant +booby or some trumpery sheet +happened to utter an unfavorable word +of criticism.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I don't remember one word of +unfavorable criticism against me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> H'm! I dare say you may be +right. Critics are always chivalrous toward +beautiful women.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Chivalrous? Do you think my +poems were praised out of chivalry? +What about your own estimate—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Mine? I'm not going to retract +so much as one little word. I simply +want to remind you that you composed +your sheaf of lovely poems while we were +living together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> And you actually consider +yourself worthy of them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Would you have written them if +it weren't for me? They are addressed +to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Never!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What! Do you mean to deny +that they are addressed to me? This is +monstrous!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> No. They are not addressed +to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I am dumbfounded. I shall remind +you of the situations in which some +of your loveliest verses had birth?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> They were inscribed to an +Ideal—[<i>Gilbert points to himself</i>]—whose +representative on earth you happened +to be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Ha! This is precious. Where +did you get that? Do you know what +the French would say in a case like that? +"C'est de la littérature!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>mimicking him</i>]. Ce n'est pas +de la littérature! Now, that's the truth, +the honest truth! Or do you really +fancy that by the "slim boy" I meant +you? Or that the curls I hymned belonged +to you? At that time you were +fat and your hair was never curly. +[<i>Runs her fingers through his hair. +Gilbert seizes the opportunity to capture +her hand and kiss it.</i>] What an idea!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> At that time you pictured it so; +or, at all events, that is what you called +it. To be sure, a poet is forced to take +every sort of license for the sake of the +rhythm. Didn't I once apostrophise you +in a sonnet as "my canny lass"? In +point of fact, you were neither—no, I +don't want to be unfair—you were canny, +shamefully canny, perversely canny. +And it suited you perfectly. Well, I +suppose I really oughtn't to wonder at +you. You were at all times a snob. +And, by Jove! you've attained your end. +You have decoyed your blue-blooded boy +with his well-manicured hands and his +unmanicured brain, your matchless horseman, +fencer, marksman, tennis player, +heart-trifler—Marlitt could not have invented +him more revolting than he actually +is. Yes, what more can you wish? +Whether he will satisfy you—who are +acquainted with something nobler—is, of +course, another question. I can only say +that, in my view, you are degenerate in +love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> That must have struck you on +the train.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Not at all. It struck me this +very moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Make a note of it then; it's an +apt phrase.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I've another quite as apt. Formerly +you were a woman; now you're a +"sweet thing." Yes, that's it. What attracted +you to a man of that type? Passion—frank +and filthy passion—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Stop! You have a motive—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> My dear, I still lay claim to the +possession of a soul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Except now and then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Please don't try to disparage our +former relations. It's no use. They are +the noblest experiences you've ever had.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Heavens, when I think that I +endured this twaddle for one whole year +I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Endure? You were intoxicated +with joy. Don't try to be ungrateful. +I'm not. Admitting that you behaved +never so execrably at the end, yet I can't +bring myself to look upon it with bitterness. +It had to come just that way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Indeed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I owe you an explanation. This: +at the moment when you were beginning +to drift away from me, when homesickness +for the stables gripped you—<i>la +nostalgie de l'écurie</i>—at that moment I +was done with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Impossible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> You failed to notice the least +sign in your characteristic way. I was +done with you. To be plain, I didn't +need you any longer. What you had to +give you gave me. Your uses were fulfilled. +In the depths of your soul you +knew, unconsciously you knew—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Please don't get so hot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> [<i>unruffled</i>]. That our day was +over. Our relations had served their +purpose. I don't regret having loved +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I do!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Capital! This measly outburst +must reveal to a person of any insight +just one thing: the essential line of difference +between the artist and the dilettante. +To you, Margaret, our <i>liaison</i> +means nothing more than the memory of +a few abandoned nights, a few heart-to-heart +talks in the winding ways of the +English gardens. But <i>I</i> have made it +over into a work of art.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> So have I!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Eh? What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I have done what you have +done. I, too, have written a novel in +which our relations are depicted. I, too, +have embalmed our love—or what we +thought was our love—for all time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> If I were you, I wouldn't talk +of "for all time" before the appearance +of the second edition.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Your writing a novel and my +writing a novel are two different things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Maybe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> You are a free man. You +don't have to steal your hours devoted +to artistic labor. And your future +doesn't depend on the throw.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> And you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> That's what I've done. Only +a half hour ago Clement left me because +I confessed to him that I had written a +novel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Left you—for good?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I don't know. But it isn't unlikely. +He went away in a fit of anger. +What he'll decide to do I can't +say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> So he objects to your writing, +does he? He can't bear to see his mistress +put her intelligence to some use. +Capital! And he represents the blood +of the country! H'm! And you, you're +not ashamed to give yourself up to the +arms of an idiot of this sort, whom you +once—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Don't you speak of him like +that. You don't know him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> You don't know why he objects +to my writing. Purely out of love. +He feels that if I go on I will be living +in a world entirely apart from him. He +blushes at the thought that I should make +copy of the most sacred feelings of my +soul for unknown people to read. It is +his wish that I belong to him only, and +that is why he dashed out—no, not +dashed out—for Clement doesn't belong +to the class that dashes out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Your observation is well taken. +In any case, he went away. We will not +undertake to discuss the <i>tempo</i> of his +going forth. And he went away because +he could not bear to see you surrender +yourself to the creative impulse.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Ah, if he could only understand +that! But, of course, that can never +be! I could be the best, the faithfulest, +the noblest woman in the world if the +right man only existed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> At all events, you admit he is +not the right man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I never said that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> But you ought to realize that +he's fettering you, undoing you utterly, +seeking through egotism, to destroy your +inalienable self. Look back for a moment +at the Margaret you were; at the +freedom that was yours while you loved +me. Think of the younger set who gathered +about me and who belonged no +whit less to you? Do you never long +for those days? Do you never call to +mind the small room with its balcony—Beneath +us plunged the Isar—[<i>He +seizes her hand and presses her near.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> All's not beyond recall. It need +not be the Isar, need it? I have something +to propose to you, Margaret. Tell +him, when he returns, that you still have +some important matters to arrange at +Munich, and spend the time with me. +Margaret, you are so lovely! We shall +be happy again as then. Do you remember +[<i>very near her</i>] "Abandoned on thy +breast and—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>retreating brusquely from +him</i>]. Go, go away. No, no. Please go +away. I don't love you any more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Oh, h'm—indeed! Oh, in that +case I beg your pardon. [<i>Pause.</i>] +Adieu, Margaret.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Adieu.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Won't you present me with a +copy of your novel as a parting gift, as +I have done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> It hasn't come out yet. It +won't be on sale before next week.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Pardon my inquisitiveness, what +kind of a story is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> The story of my life. So +veiled, to be sure, that I am in no danger +of being recognized.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I see. How did you manage to +do it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Very simple. For one thing, +the heroine is not a writer but a painter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Very clever.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Her first husband is not a cotton +manufacturer, but a big financier, +and, of course, it wouldn't do to deceive +him with a tenor—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Ha! Ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> What strikes you so funny?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> So you deceived him with a +tenor? I didn't know that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Whoever said so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Why, you yourself, just now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> How so? I say the heroine of +the book deceives her husband with a +baritone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Bass would have been more sublime, +mezzo-soprano more piquant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Then she doesn't go to Munich, +but to Dresden; and there, has an affair +with a sculptor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> That's me—veiled.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Very much veiled, I rather +fear. The sculptor, as it happens, is +young, handsome and a genius. In spite +of that she leaves him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> For—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Guess?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> A jockey, I fancy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Wretch!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> A count, a prince of the empire?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Wrong. An archduke.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I must say you have spared no +costs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Yes, an archduke, who gave up +the court for her sake, married her and +emigrated with her to the Canary Islands.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> The Canary Islands! Splendid! +And then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> With the disembarkation—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> In Canaryland.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> The story ends.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Good. I'm very much interested, +especially in the veiling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> You yourself wouldn't recognize +me were it not for—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> The third chapter from the +end, where our correspondence is published +entire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Yes, all the letters you sent me +and those I sent you are included in the +novel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I see, but may I ask where you +got those you sent me? I thought I had +them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I know. But, you see, I had +the habit of always making a rough +draft.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> A rough draft?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> A rough draft? Those letters +which seemed to have been dashed off in +such tremendous haste. "Just one word, +dearest, before I go to bed. My eyelids +are heavy—" and when your eyelids +were closed you wrote the whole +thing over again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Are you piqued about it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I might have expected as much. +I ought to be glad, however, that they +weren't bought from a professional love-letter +writer. Oh, how everything begins +to crumble! The whole past is +nothing but a heap of ruins. She made +a rough draft of her letters!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Be content. Maybe my letters +will be all that will remain immortal of +your memory.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> And along with them will remain +the fatal story.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> [<i>indicating his book</i>]. Because +they also appear in my book.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> In <i>where</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> In my novel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Our letters—yours and mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Where did you get your own? +I've got them in my possession. Ah, so +you, too, made a rough draft?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Nothing of the kind! I only +copied them before mailing. I didn't +want to lose them. There are some in +my book which you didn't even get. +They were, in my opinion, too beautiful +for you. You wouldn't have understood +them at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Merciful heavens! If this is +so—[<i>turning the leaves of Gilbert's +book</i>]. Yes, yes, it is so. Why, it's just +like telling the world that we two—Merciful +heavens! [<i>Feverishly turning +the leaves.</i>] Is the letter you sent me +the morning after the first night also—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Surely. That was brilliant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> This is horrible. Why, this is +going to create a European sensation. +And Clement—My God; I'm beginning +to hope that he will not come back. I +am ruined! And you along with me. +Wherever you are, he'll be sure to find +you and blow your brains out like a mad +dog.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> [<i>pocketing his book</i>]. Insipid +comparison!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> How did you hit upon such an +insane idea? To publish the correspondence +of a woman whom, in all sincerity, +you professed to have loved! Oh, you're +no gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Quite charming. Haven't you +done the same?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I'm a woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Do you take refuge in that now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Oh, it's true. I have nothing +to reproach you with. We were made +for one another. Yes, Clement was right. +We're worse than those women who appear +in flesh-colored tights. Our most +sacred feelings, our pangs—everything—we +make copy of everything. Pfui! +<b>Pfui!</b> It's sickening. We two belong to +one another. Clement would only be +doing what is right if he drove me away. +[<i>Suddenly.</i>] Come, Amandus.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I accept your proposal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What proposal?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I'm going to cut it with you. +[<i>Looks for her hat and cloak.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Eh? What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>very much excited; puts her +hat on tightly</i>]. Everything can be as it +was. You've said it. It needn't be the +Isar—well, I'm ready.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Sheer madness! Cut it—what's +the meaning of this? Didn't you yourself +say a minute ago that he'd find me anywhere. +If you're with me, he'll have no +difficulty in finding you, too. Wouldn't +it be better if each—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Wretch! Now you want to +leave me in a lurch! Why, only a few +minutes ago you were on your knees before +me. Have you no conscience?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What's the use? I am a sick, +nervous man, suffering from hypochondria. +[<i>Margaret at the window utters a +cry.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What's up? What will the general's +widow think?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> It's he. He's coming back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Well, then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> What? You intend to go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I didn't come here to pay the +baron a visit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> He'll encounter you on the +stairs. That would be worse. Stay. I +refuse to be sacrificed alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Now, don't lose your senses. +Why do you tremble like that? It's +quite absurd to believe that he's already +gone through both novels. Calm yourself. +Remove your hat. Off with your +cloak. [<i>Assists her.</i>] If he catches you +in this frame of mind he can't help but +suspect.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> It's all the same to me. Better +now than later. I can't bear waiting +and waiting for the horrible event. I'm +going to tell him everything right away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Everything?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Yes. And while you are still +here. If I make a clean breast of everything +now maybe he'll forgive me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> And me—what about me? I +have a higher mission in the world, I +think, than to suffer myself to be shot +down like a mad dog by a jealous baron. +[<i>The bell rings.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> It's he! It's he.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Understand, you're not to breathe +a word.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> I've made up my mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Indeed, have a care. For, if you +do, I shall sell my hide at a good price. +I shall hurl such naked truths at him +that he'll swear no baron heard the like +of them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> [<i>entering, somewhat surprised, +but quite cool and courteous</i>]. Oh, Mr. +Gilbert! Am I right?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> The very same, Baron. I'm traveling +south, and I couldn't repress the +desire to pay my respects to madame.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Ah, indeed. [<i>Pause.</i>] Pardon +me, it seems I've interrupted your conversation. +Pray, don't let me disturb +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What were we talking about just +now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Perhaps I can assist your memory. +In Munich, if I recall correctly, +you always talked about your books.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Quite so. As a matter of fact, +I was speaking about my new novel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Pray, continue. Nowadays, I +find that I, too, can talk literature. Eh, +Margaret? Is it naturalistic? Symbolic? +Autobiographical? Or—let me +see—is it distilled?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Oh, in a certain sense we all +write about our life-experiences.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> H'm. That's good to know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Yes, if you're painting the character +of Nero, in my opinion it's absolutely +necessary that you should have set +fire to Rome—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Naturally.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> From what source should a +writer derive his inspiration if not from +himself? Where should he go for his +models if not to the life which is nearest +to him? [<i>Margaret becomes more and +more uneasy.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Isn't it a pity, though, that the +models are so rarely consulted? But I +must say, if I were a woman, I'd think +twice before I'd let such people know +anything—[<i>Sharply.</i>] In decent society, +sir, that's the same as compromising +a woman!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I don't know whether I belong to +decent society or not, but, in my humble +opinion, it's the same as ennobling a +woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> The essential thing is, does it +really hit the mark! In a higher sense, +what does it matter if the public does +know that a woman was happy in this +bed or that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Mr. Gilbert, allow me to remind +you that you are speaking in the +presence of a lady.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> I'm speaking in the presence of +a comrade, Baron, who, perhaps, shares +my views in these matters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Clement! [<i>Throws herself at +his feet.</i>] Clement.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> [<i>staggered</i>]. But—Margaret.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> Your forgiveness, Clement!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> But, Margaret. [<i>To Gilbert.</i>] +It's very painful to me, Mr. Gilbert. +Now, get up, Margaret. Get up, everything's +all right; everything's arranged. +Yes, yes. You have but to call up Künigel. +I have already arranged everything +with him. We are going to put it out +for sale. Is that suitable to you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> What are you going to put out +for sale, if I may be so bold as to ask? +The novel madame has written?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Ah, so you know already. At +all events, Mr. Gilbert, it seems that your +<i>camaraderie</i> is not required any further.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Yes. There's really nothing left +for me but to beg to be excused. I'm +sorry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> I very much regret, Mr. Gilbert, +that you had to witness a scene +which might almost be called domestic.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Oh, I do not wish to intrude any +further.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> Madame—Baron, may I offer +you a copy of my book as a token that +all ill-feeling between us has vanished? +As a feeble sign of my sympathy, Baron?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> You're very good, Mr. Gilbert. +I must, however, tell you that this is +going to be the last, or the one before +the last, that I ever intend to read.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> The one before the last?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> And what's the last going to +be?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> Yours, my love. [<i>Draws an +advanced copy from his pocket.</i>] I +wheedled an advance copy from Künigel +to bring to you, or, rather, to both of us. +[<i>Margaret and Gilbert exchange scared +glances.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> How good of you! [<i>Taking +the book.</i>] Yes, it's mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> We will read it together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> No, Clement, no. I cannot accept +so much kindness. [<i>She throws the +book into the fireplace.</i>] I don't want to +hear of this sort of thing any more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> [<i>very joyful</i>]. But, dear madame—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clem.</span> [<i>going toward the fireplace</i>]. +Margaret, what have you done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marg.</span> [<i>in front of the fireplace, throwing +her arms about Clement</i>]. Now, do +you believe that I love you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gil.</span> [<i>most gleeful</i>]. It appears that +I'm entirely <i>de trop</i> here. Dear Madame—Baron—[<i>To +himself.</i>] Pity, though, +I can't stay for the last chapter. [<i>Goes +out.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_INTRUDER" id="THE_INTRUDER"></a>THE INTRUDER</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By Maurice Maeterlinck</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> +<span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>blind</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Father.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Three Daughters.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Servant.</span><br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>The present translation of <span class="smcap">The Intruder</span> is the anonymous version published by +Mr. Heinemann in 1892, the editor having, however, made some slight alterations in +order to bring it into conformity with the current French text. The particular +edition used for this purpose was the 1911 (twenty-third) reprint of Vol. I of M. +Maeterlinck's "Théâtre."</p> + +<p class="author"> +A. L. G.<br /> +</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"> +Reprinted from "A Miracle of St. Antony and Five Other Plays" in the Modern<br /> +Library, by permission of Messrs. Boni & Liveright, Inc.<br /> +</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE INTRUDER</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Maurice Maeterlinck</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>A sombre room in an old Château. A +door on the right, a door on the left, and +a small concealed door in a corner. At +the back, stained-glass windows, in which +green is the dominant color, and a glass +door giving on to a terrace. A big Dutch +clock in one corner. A lighted lamp.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Three Daughters.</span> Come here, +grandfather. Sit down under the lamp.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> There does not +seem to me to be much light here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Shall we go out on the +terrace, or stay in this room?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Would it not be better +to stay here? It has rained the whole +week, and the nights are damp and cold.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> But the stars +are shining.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Oh the stars—that's +nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> We had better +stay here. One never knows what may +happen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> There is no longer any +cause for anxiety. The danger is over, +and she is saved....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I believe she is +not doing so well....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Why do you say that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I have heard her +voice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> But since the doctors +assure us we may be easy....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> You know quite well that +your father-in-law likes to alarm us needlessly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I don't see things +as you do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> You ought to rely on us, +then, who can see. She looked very well +this afternoon. She is sleeping quietly +now; and we are not going to mar, needlessly, +the first pleasant evening that +chance has put in our way.... It seems +to me we have a perfect right to peace, +and even to laugh a little, this evening, +without fear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> That's true; this is the +first time I have felt at home with my +family since this terrible confinement.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> When once illness has +come into a house, it is as though a +stranger had forced himself into the family +circle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> And then you understand, +too, that you can count on no one +outside the family.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> You are quite right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Why couldn't I +see my poor daughter to-day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> You know quite well—the +doctor forbade it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I do not know +what to think....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It is useless to worry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>pointing to the +door on the left</i>]. She cannot hear us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> We will not talk too +loud; besides, the door is very thick, and +the Sister of Mercy is with her, and she +is sure to warn us if we are making too +much noise.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>pointing to the +door on the right</i>]. He cannot hear us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> No, no.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> He is asleep?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I suppose so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Some one had +better go and see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> The little one would +cause <i>me</i> more anxiety than your wife. +It is now several weeks since he was +born, and he has scarcely stirred. He +has not cried once all the time! He is +like a wax doll.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I think he will be +deaf—dumb too, perhaps—the usual +result of a marriage between cousins.... +[<i>A reproving silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I could almost wish +him ill for the suffering he has caused his +mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Do be reasonable; it is +not the poor little thing's fault. He is +quite alone in the room?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Yes; the doctor does +not wish him to stay in his mother's room +any longer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> But the nurse is with +him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> No; she has gone to +rest a little; she has well deserved it +these last few days. Ursula, just go and +see if he is asleep.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> Yes, father. +[<i>The Three Sisters get up, and go into +the room on the right, hand in hand.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> When will your sister +come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I think she will come +about nine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> It is past nine. I hope +she will come this evening, my wife is +so anxious to see her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> She is sure to come. +This will be the first time she has been +here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> She has never been in +the house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It is very difficult for +her to leave her convent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Will she be alone?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I expect one of the nuns +will come with her. They are not allowed +to go out alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> But she is the Superior.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> The rule is the same for +all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Do you not feel +anxious?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Why should we feel +anxious? What's the good of harping +on that? There is nothing more to +fear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Your sister is +older than you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> She is the eldest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I do not know +what ails me; I feel uneasy. I wish your +sister were here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> She will come; she promised +to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Ah, if this evening +were only over!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The three daughters come in again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> He is asleep?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> Yes, father; +he is sleeping soundly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> What shall we do while +we are waiting?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Waiting for what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Waiting for our sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> You see nothing coming, +Ursula?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter</span> [<i>at the window</i>]. +Nothing, father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Not in the avenue? +Can you see the avenue?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Yes, father; it is +moonlight, and I can see the avenue as +far as the cypress wood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> And you do not +see any one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> No one, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> What sort of a night is +it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Very fine. Do you +hear the nightingales?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Yes, yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> A little wind is rising +in the avenue.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> A little wind in +the avenue?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Yes; the trees are +trembling a little.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I am surprised that my +sister is not here yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I cannot hear the +nightingales any longer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> I think some one has +come into the garden, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Who is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> I do not know; I can +see no one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Because there is no one +there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> There must be some +one in the garden; the nightingales have +suddenly ceased singing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> But I do not hear +any one coming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Some one must be +passing by the pond, because the swans +are ruffled.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Daughter.</span> All the fishes in +the pond are diving suddenly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> You cannot see any +one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> No one, father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> But the pond lies in +the moonlight....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Yes; I can see that +the swans are ruffled.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I am sure it is my sister +who is scaring them. She must have +come in by the little gate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I cannot understand +why the dogs do not bark.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> I can see the watchdog +right at the back of his kennel. The +swans are crossing to the other bank!...</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> They are afraid of my +sister. I will go and see. [<i>He calls.</i>] +Sister! sister! Is that you?... There +is no one there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> I am sure that some +one has come into the garden. You will +see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> But she would answer +me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Are not the nightingales +beginning to sing again, Ursula?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> I cannot hear one +anywhere.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> But there is no +noise.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> There is a silence of the +grave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It must be a +stranger that is frightening them, for if +it were one of the family they would not +be silent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> How much longer are +you going to discuss these nightingales?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Are all the windows +open, Ursula?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> The glass door is +open, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It seems to me +that the cold is penetrating into the +room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> There is a little wind +in the garden, grandfather, and the rose-leaves +are falling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Well, shut the door. It +is late.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Yes, father.... I +cannot shut the door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Two Other Daughters.</span> We cannot +shut the door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Why, what is the +matter with the door, my children?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> You need not say that +in such an extraordinary voice. I will +go and help them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> We cannot +manage to shut it quite.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It is because of the +damp. Let us all push together. There +must be something in the way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> The carpenter will set +it right to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Is the carpenter +coming to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Yes, grandfather; he +is coming to do some work in the cellar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> He will make a +noise in the house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> I will tell him to +work quietly.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Suddenly the sound of a scythe being +sharpened is heard outside.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>with a shudder</i>]. +Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> What is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> I don't quite know; +I think it is the gardener. I cannot quite +see; he is in the shadow of the house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> It is the gardener going +to mow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> He mows by night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Is not to-morrow Sunday?—Yes.—I +noticed that the grass +was very long round the house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It seems to me +that his scythe makes as much noise....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> He is mowing near +the house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Can you see him, +Ursula?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> No, grandfather. +He is standing in the dark.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I am afraid he +will wake my daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> We can scarcely hear +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'Is'">It</ins> sounds as if he +were mowing inside the house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> The invalid will not hear +it; there is no danger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> It seems to me that the +lamp is not burning well this evening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It wants filling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I saw it filled this morning. +It has burnt badly since the window +was shut.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I fancy the chimney is +dirty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> It will burn better presently.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Grandfather is asleep. +He has not slept for three nights.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> He has been so much +worried.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> He always worries too +much. At times he will not listen to +reason.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> It is quite excusable at +his age.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> God knows what we +shall be like at his age!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> He is nearly eighty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Then he has a right to +be strange.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> He is like all blind people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> They think too much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> They have too much +time to spare.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> They have nothing else +to do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> And, besides, they have +no distractions.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> That must be terrible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Apparently one gets +used to it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I cannot imagine it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> They are certainly to +be pitied.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Not to know where one +is, not to know where one has come +from, not to know whither one is going, +not to be able to distinguish midday from +midnight, or summer from winter—and +always darkness, darkness! I would +rather not live. Is it absolutely incurable?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Apparently so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> But he is not absolutely +blind?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> He can perceive a +strong light.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Let us take care of our +poor eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> He often has strange +ideas.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> At times he is not at all +amusing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> He says absolutely +everything he thinks.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> But he was not always +like this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> No; once he was as rational +as we are; he never said anything +extraordinary. I am afraid Ursula encourages +him a little too much; she answers +all his questions....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It would be better not to +answer them. It's a mistaken kindness +to him.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Ten o'clock strikes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>waking up</i>]. Am +I facing the glass door?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> You have had a nice +sleep, grandfather?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Am I facing the +glass door?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Yes, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> There is nobody +at the glass door?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> No, grandfather; I +do not see any one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I thought some +one was waiting. No one has come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> No one, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>to the Uncle and +Father</i>]. And your sister has not come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It is too late; she will +not come now. It is not nice of her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I'm beginning to be +anxious about her. [<i>A noise, as of some +one coming into the house.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> She is here! Did you +hear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Yes; some one has +come in at the basement.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It must be our sister. I +recognized her step.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I heard slow footsteps.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> She came in very +quietly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> She knows there is an +invalid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I hear nothing +now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> She will come up directly; +they will tell her we are here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I am glad she has +come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I was sure she would +come this evening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> She is a very long +time coming up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It must be she.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> We are not expecting +any other visitors.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I cannot hear any +noise in the basement.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I will call the servant. +We shall know how things stand. [<i>He +pulls a bell-rope.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I can hear a noise +on the stairs already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> It is the servant coming +up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> To me it sounds +as if she were not alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> She is coming up slowly....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I hear your sister's +step!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I can only hear the +servant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It is your sister! +It is your sister! [<i>There is a knock at +the little door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> She is knocking at the +door of the back stairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I will go and open it +myself. [<i>He opens the little door partly; +the Servant remains outside in the opening.</i>] +Where are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> Here, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Your sister is at +the door?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I can only see the servant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> It is only the servant. +[<i>To the Servant.</i>] Who was that, that +came into the house?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> Came into the house?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Yes; some one came in +just now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> No one came in, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Who is it sighing +like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It is the servant; she is +out of breath.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Is she crying?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> No; why should she be +crying?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father</span> [<i>to the Servant</i>]. No +one came in just now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> No, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> But we heard some one +open the door!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> It was I shutting the +door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> It was open?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Why was it open at this +time of night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> I do not know, sir. I +had shut it myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Then who was it that +opened it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> I do not know, sir. +Some one must have gone out after me, +sir....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> You must be careful.—Don't +push the door; you know what a +noise it makes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> But, sir, I am not +touching the door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> But you are. You are +pushing as if you were trying to get into +the room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> But, sir, I am three +yards away from the door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Don't talk so loud....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Are they putting +out the light?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> No, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It seems to me it +has grown pitch dark all at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father</span> [<i>to the Servant</i>]. You +can go down again now; but do not make +so much noise on the stairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Servant.</span> I did not make any +noise on the stairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I tell you that you did +make a noise. Go down quietly; you +will wake your mistress. And if any +one comes now, say that we are not at +home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Yes; say that we are not +at home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>shuddering</i>]. You +must not say that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> ... Except to my sister +and the doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> When will the doctor +come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> He will not be able to +come before midnight. [<i>He shuts the +door. A clock is heard striking eleven.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> She has come +in?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Who?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> The servant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> No, she has gone downstairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I thought that she +was sitting at the table.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> The servant?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> That would complete +one's happiness!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> No one has come +into the room?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> No; no one has come +in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> And your sister +is not here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Our sister has not come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You want to deceive +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Deceive you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Ursula, tell me +the truth, for the love of God!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> Grandfather! +Grandfather! what is the matter with +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Something has +happened! I am sure my daughter is +worse!...</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Are you dreaming?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You do not want +to tell me!... I can see quite well there +is something....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> In that case you can see +better than we can.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Ursula, tell me +the truth!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> But we have told +you the truth, grandfather!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You do not speak +in your ordinary voice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> That is because you +frighten her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Your voice is +changed, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> You are going mad! +[<i>He and the Uncle make signs to each +other to signify the Grandfather has +lost his reason.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I can hear quite +well that you are afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> But what should we be +afraid of?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Why do you want +to deceive me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Who is thinking of deceiving +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Why have you +put out the light?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> But the light has not +been put out; there is as much light as +there was before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> It seems to me that +the lamp has gone down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I see as well now as +ever.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I have millstones +on my eyes! Tell me, girls, what is +going on here! Tell me, for the love of +God, you who can see! I am here, all +alone, in darkness without end! I do +not know who seats himself beside me! +I do not know what is happening a yard +from me!... Why were you talking +under your breath just now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> No one was talking +under his breath.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You did talk in a +low voice at the door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> You heard all I said.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You brought +some one into the room!...</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> But I tell you no one +has come in!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Is it your sister +or a priest?—You should not try to deceive +me.—Ursula, who was it that came +in?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> No one, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You must not +try to deceive me; I know what I +know.—How many of us are there +here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> There are six of us +round the table, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You are all round +the table?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Yes, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You are there, +Paul?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You are there, +Oliver?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Yes, of course I am here, +in my usual place. That's not alarming, +is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You are there, +Geneviève?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">One of the Daughters.</span> Yes, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You are there, +Gertrude?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Daughter.</span> Yes, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You are here, +Ursula?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> Yes, grandfather; +next to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> And who is that +sitting there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Where do you mean, +grandfather?—There is no one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> There, there—in +the midst of us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> But there is no one, +grandfather!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> We tell you there is no +one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> But you cannot +see—any of you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Pshaw! You are joking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I do not feel inclined +for joking, I can assure you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Then believe those who +can see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>undecidedly</i>]. I +thought there was some one.... I believe +I shall not live long....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Why should we deceive +you? What use would there be in +that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> It would be our duty to +tell you the truth....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> What would be the good +of deceiving each other?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> You could not live in +error long.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>trying to rise</i>]. I +should like to pierce this darkness!...</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Where do you want to +go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Over there....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Don't be so anxious.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> You are strange this +evening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It is all of you +who seem to me to be strange!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Do you want anything?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I do not know +what ails me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> Grandfather! +grandfather! What do you want, grandfather?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Give me your little +hands, my children.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Three Daughters.</span> Yes, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Why are you all +three trembling, girls?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> We are +scarcely trembling at all, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I fancy you are +all three pale.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> It is late, +grandfather, and we are tired.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> You must go to bed, +and grandfather himself would do well +to take a little rest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I could not sleep +to-night!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> We will wait for the +doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Prepare for the +truth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> But there is no truth!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Then I do not +know what there is!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I tell you there is nothing +at all!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I wish I could see +my poor daughter!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> But you know quite +well it is impossible; she must not be +awakened unnecessarily.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> You will see her to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> There is no sound +in her room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I should be uneasy if I +heard any sound.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It is a very long +time since I saw my daughter!... I +took her hands yesterday evening, but I +could not see her!... I do not know +what has become of her.... I do not +know how she is.... I do not know what +her face is like now.... She must have +changed these weeks!... I felt the little +bones of her cheeks under my hands.... +There is nothing but the darkness +between her and me, and the rest of you!... +I cannot go on living like this ... +this is not living.... You sit there, all of +you, looking with open eyes at my dead +eyes, and not one of you has pity on me!... +I do not know what ails me.... +No one tells me what ought to be told +me.... And everything is terrifying +when one's dreams dwell upon it.... +But why are you not speaking?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> What should <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'be'">we</ins> say, +since you will not believe us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You are afraid of +betraying yourselves!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Come now, be rational!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> You have been +hiding something from me for a long +time!... Something has happened in +the house.... But I am beginning to +understand now.... You have been deceiving +me too long!—You fancy that I +shall never know anything?—There are +moments when I am less blind than you, +you know!... Do you think I have not +heard you whispering—for days and +days—as if you were in the house of +some one who had been hanged—I dare +not say what I know this evening.... +But I shall know the truth!... I shall +wait for you to tell me the truth; but I +have known it for a long time, in spite of +you!—And now, I feel that you are all +paler than the dead!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Three Daughters.</span> Grandfather! +grandfather! What is the matter, +grandfather?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It is not you that +I am speaking of, girls. No; it is not +you that I am speaking of.... I know +quite well you would tell me the truth—if +they were not by!... And besides, +I feel sure that they are deceiving you +as well.... You will see, children—you +will see!... Do not I hear you all sobbing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Is my wife really so +ill?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It is no good trying +to deceive me any longer; it is too +late now, and I know the truth better +than you!...</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> But <i>we</i> are not blind; we +are not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Would you like to go +into your daughter's room? This misunderstanding +must be put an end to.—Would +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>becoming suddenly +undecided</i>]. No, no, not now—not yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> You see, you are not +reasonable.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> One never knows +how much a man has been unable to express +in his life!... Who made that +noise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> It is the lamp +flickering, grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It seems to me to +be very unsteady—very!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> It is the cold wind +troubling it....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> There is no cold wind, +the windows are shut.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> I think it is going +out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> There is no more oil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> It has gone right +out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> We cannot stay like +this in the dark.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Why not?—I am quite +accustomed to it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> There is a light in my +wife's room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> We will take it from +there presently, when the doctor has +been.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Well, we can see +enough here; there is the light from outside.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Is it light outside?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Lighter than here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> For my part, I would as +soon talk in the dark.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> So would I. [<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> It seems to me the +clock makes a great deal of noise....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Eldest Daughter.</span> That is because +we are not talking any more, +grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> But why are you +all silent?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> What do you want us to +talk about?—You are really very peculiar +to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Is it very dark in +this room?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> There is not much light. +[<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I do not feel well, +Ursula; open the window a little.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Yes, child; open the +window a little. I begin to feel the want +of air myself. [<i>The girl opens the window.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> I really believe we have +stayed shut up too long.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Is the window +open?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Yes, grandfather; it +is wide open.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> One would not +have thought it was open; there was not +a sound outside.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> No, grandfather; +there is not the slightest sound.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> The silence is extraordinary!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> One could hear an +angel tread!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> That is why I do not like +the country.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I wish I could +hear some sound. What o'clock is it, +Ursula?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> It will soon be midnight, +grandfather. [<i>Here the Uncle begins +to pace up and down the room.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Who is that walking +round us like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Only I! only I! Do not +be frightened! I want to walk about a +little. [<i>Silence.</i>]—But I am going to +sit down again;—I cannot see where I +am going. [<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I wish I were out +of this place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Where would you like +to go, grandfather?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I do not know +where—into another room, no matter +where! no matter where!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Where could we go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It is too late to go anywhere +else. [<i>Silence. They are sitting, +motionless, round the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> What is that I +hear, Ursula?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Nothing, grandfather; +it is the leaves falling.—Yes, it +is the leaves falling on the terrace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Go and shut the +window, Ursula.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Yes, grandfather. +[<i>She shuts the window, comes back, and +sits down.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I am cold. [<i>Silence. +The Three Sisters kiss each +other.</i>] What is that I hear now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> It is the three sisters +kissing each other.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> It seems to me they are +very pale this evening. [<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> What is that I +hear now, Ursula?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> Nothing, grandfather; +it is the clasping of my hands. +[<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> And that?...</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Daughter.</span> I do not know, +grandfather ... perhaps my sisters are +trembling a little?...</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> I am afraid, too, +my children. [<i>Here a ray of moonlight +penetrates through a corner of the +stained glass, and throws strange gleams +here and there in the room. A clock +strikes midnight; at the last stroke there +is a very vague sound, as of some one +rising in haste.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather</span> [<i>shuddering with +peculiar horror</i>]. Who is that who got +up?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> No one got up!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> I did not get up!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Three Daughters.</span> Nor I!—Nor +I!—Nor I!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Some one got up +from the table!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> Light the lamp!... +[<i>Cries of terror are suddenly heard from +the child's room, on the right; these cries +continue, with gradations of horror, until +the end of the scene.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Listen to the child!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> He has never cried before!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Father.</span> Let us go and see him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Uncle.</span> The light! The light! +[<i>At this moment, quick and heavy steps +are heard in the room on the left.—Then +a deathly silence.—They listen in mute +terror, until the door of the room opens +slowly; the light from it is cast into the +room where they are sitting, and the Sister +of Mercy appears on the threshold, +in her black garments, and bows as she +makes the sign of the cross, to announce +the death of the wife. They understand, +and, after a moment of hesitation and +fright, silently enter the chamber of +death, while the Uncle politely steps aside +on the threshold to let the three girls +pass. The blind man, left alone, gets +up, agitated, and feels his way round the +table in the darkness.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandfather.</span> Where are you +going?—Where are you going?—The +girls have left me all alone!</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="INTERLUDE" id="INTERLUDE"></a>INTERLUDE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Federico More</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Translated from the Spanish by Audrey Alden.</span></small></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Stewart & Kidd Company. All rights reserved.</p> + + + +<p> </p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Marquise.<br /> +The Poet.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">Application for permission to produce <span class="smcap">Interlude</span> must be addressed to Pierre Loving,<br /> +in care of Messrs. Stewart & Kidd Co., Cincinnati, Ohio.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>INTERLUDE</h2> + +<p class="center"><big><span class="smcap">By Federico More</span></big></p> + +<p> </p> + +<p><i>Scene:</i> A Salon.</p> + + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise</span> [<i>entering</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +It is chic yet full of peril to be a marquise, betrothed<br /> +And on the brim of nineteen, with two whole years'<br /> +Devotion at the convent behind her. Well may the man<br /> +I am to marry place his faith in me.<br /> +And yet, I am obsessed with the sweet indecision<br /> +Of having met a poet who will shrive me in verse,<br /> +Drape my life with the vigor of his youth<br /> +Yet never kiss me.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet</span> [<i>entering</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt">I was looking for you, madame.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Well, here I am.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Does the dance tire you or the music displease?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">It has never before displeased me, and yet—now—</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">In a life</span><br /> +Happy as yours, joy is reborn,<br /> +Your moods are versatile, and charming, marquise....<br /> +Bad humor de luxe ... perhaps mere caprice....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Perhaps mere caprice ... perhaps; but I am prey<br /> +To something more profound, something warmer....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Have I not told you</span><br /> +That in happy lives such as your high-placed life<br /> +There is nothing of ennui, nothing to lead astray,<br /> +Nothing to spur you on, nothing to unfold,<br /> +Nor any dim wraith stalking by your side?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Ah, you have uttered my thought. I feel as though a ghost walked with me.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And I could almost swear</span><br /> +You do not feel your grief molded as the phantom wills.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">I do feel it. There is a spell,<br /> +An echo from afar.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nerves ... the dance ... fatigue!</span><br /> +Too many perfumes ... too many mirrors....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">And the lack of a voice I love.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Oh do not be romantic. Don't distort life.<br /> +Romance has always proved an evil scourge.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">But you, a poet ... are not you romantic?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">I? Never.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Then how do you write your verse?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">I make poems</span><br /> +The way your seamstresses make your dresses.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">With a pattern and a measure?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">With a pattern and a measure.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Impossible! Poets give tongue to truth sublime.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Pardon, marquise, but it is folly<br /> +To think that poems are something more than needles<br /> +On which to thread the truth.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Truly, are they no more than that?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Ephemeral and vain, in this age<br /> +Poetry is woven of agile thought.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">What of the sort that weeps and yearns most woe-begone?<br /> +Poignancy that is the ending of a poem?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">All that</span><br /> +Is reached with the noble aid of a consonant<br /> +As great love is reached with a kiss.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">And what of the void in which my soul is lost<br /> +Since no one, poet ... no one cries his need for me....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Do not say that, marquise. I can assure you....</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">That I am a motif for a handful of consonants?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Nonsense! I swear it by your clear eyes....</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Comparable, I suppose, in verse to two clear diamonds....</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">You scoff, but love is very serious....</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Love serious, poet? A betrothal, it may be, is serious,<br /> +Arranged by grave-faced parents with stately rites;<br /> +Yawns are serious and so is repletion.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">But tell me, whence comes this deep cynicism?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Oh, do not take it ill. I say it but in jest,<br /> +Merely because I like to laugh at the abyss,<br /> +What do you think, poet?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Well, marquise, I must confess</span><br /> +That I am capable of feeling various loves.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Then you were born for various women.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">No, I was born for various sorrows.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Or, by the same token, for various pleasures.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Sheer vanity! Women always presume<br /> +That their mere earthly presence gives men pleasure.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">You are clear-witted</span><br /> +And a pattern of such good common-sense. Who would believe<br /> +That a poet, dabbler in every sort of folly,<br /> +May turn discreet when mysterious love beckons?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Mysterious love? Marquise, that is not so.... Love has abandons<br /> +Irrestrainable.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And shame restrains them.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">But what has shame to do with poetry?<br /> +It has no worth, it is a social value,<br /> +Value of a marquise, par excellence.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">None the less, shame is a resigned and subtle justice,<br /> +The justice of women, poet.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Which is no justice at all.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Poet, the stones you throw<br /> +In your defeat, will fall upon your head.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">That is my destiny. Your rising sun<br /> +Can never know the splendor of my sun that sets.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">The fault is nowise mine....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">True.... I am insane<br /> +And a madman is insane, marquise, although he reason.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Oh, reason, poet. I would convince you<br /> +That even a marquise may be sincere.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">And I, my lady, I would fain believe it.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Believe it then, I beg of you.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">But there is this:</span><br /> +A marquise might also lose her head.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">True she might lose her head ... but for a rhyme?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Which, no matter how true, will always be a lie.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">But why did you protest against my skepticism?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">I riddled your words, but protested for myself.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">So vain a reason, and so selfish?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">A prideful reason.... I stand aghast before the abyss.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">I see that all your love has been in verse.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">No, marquise, but life</span><br /> +Cradles crude truths which the poet disdains.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">And amiable truths which passion passes by.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">But about which the dreamer's world revolves.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">I do not dream, I wish....</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">I know well what I wish....</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Well then, we wish that it should not be merely a consonant.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">No, rather that it should be poetry.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Suppose that it were so, would it content you?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">It is enough for me, and yet I fear<br /> +That this pale poetry, untried, unlived,<br /> +Can have no driving urge.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Why then should we refuse to live it?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">I shall tell you. It is not in high-born taste<br /> +To trifle with a heart.<br /> +The love of a marquise is the problematic<br /> +Love of elegance and froth,<br /> +And like other love a sort of mathematic<br /> +Love of addition, subtraction and division.<br /> +It is not rude passion, fierce, emphatic,<br /> +Song and orchestral counterpoint of life.<br /> +It is what the world would name platonic,<br /> +Love without fire, without virility,<br /> +With nothing of creation, nothing tonic,<br /> +One-step love, love of society.<br /> +And I will have none of this love sardonic,<br /> +None of its desperate futility.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">I do not fear you though you are a poet,<br /> +And I say things to you, no other ears would endure.<br /> +You were not born, poor anchorite,<br /> +To say to a woman: "Be mine."<br /> +And such is your secret vanity,<br /> +You are a servile vassal of your own Utopia.<br /> +You pretend to transform women<br /> +Into laurel branches meaningless,<br /> +And with your cynic's blare<br /> +You thread upon the needle of your pride<br /> +Dregs from the utter depths of the abyss.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Marquise, a poet's love has led you astray.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Oh, don't be vain and fanciful. I swear<br /> +That in my placid life, happiness brings no joy.<br /> +What I longed for was a love, profound and mature,<br /> +The profound love of a poet come to being,<br /> +And not the incongruities of adolescence in verse....<br /> +The radiant synthesis of a pungent existence<br /> +And not the disloyalties of a dispersed dream.<br /> +What woman has not dreamed of loving a poet<br /> +Who would be conqueror and conquered all in one?<br /> +What woman has not wished to be humble and forgiving<br /> +With the man who sings the great passions he has known?<br /> +We need you poets.... We are tormented by the desire<br /> +Of a harmonious life, filled with deep sound,<br /> +With the vigor and strength of wine poured out<br /> +Into bowls of truths, deep with the depth of death.<br /> +We crave no water, lymphatic, pure,<br /> +In glasses of wind, frail as life.<br /> +Better the vintage of the rich<br /> +Served in vile glasses of gold. And if the mind be coarse,<br /> +Perchance the hands will glitter with many stones.<br /> +And if I may not have a fragrant and well-ordered nest<br /> +Filled with clear rhythm and little blond heads,<br /> +Then let me have my palace where luxurious pleasure<br /> +Lends to love of earth, grief and deep dismay.<br /> +Why do you not love living, poets? Why is it,<br /> +The dullard who nor loves nor lives poaches your kisses?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">I do not comprehend, marquise. Why love living,<br /> +If that is to live loving? We know that life and love<br /> +Are wings forever fledging out<br /> +In a bird neither swan nor hawk.<br /> +I am resigned to my unequal destiny, for I know<br /> +That my two eyes cannot perceive the same color.<br /> +For even when there is calm, anxiety arises<br /> +And then, I am not master, not even of my pain.<br /> +I would be your friend, but there are obstacles,<br /> +Captious dynamics, that put a check upon my words.<br /> +I yield to the dumb pride of my huge torment,<br /> +The song without words, the sonorous silence,<br /> +And I do not desire any one to penetrate<br /> +The garden wherein flowers the mystery I adore.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Conserve your mysteries, poet; they will have no heirs.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Death is the heir of everything impenetrable.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">But only during life do the words of the sphinx<br /> +Possess a meaning for our ears.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">I am terror-stricken by the sphinx.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Coward! The sun blinds him who cannot hearken to the sphinx.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sounds of music in the distance.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Does not the music tempt you?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">It does, and I feel sure</span><br /> +My lover must be waiting. Will you come with me?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Poet.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">No, thanks. I shall remain and think of what has died.</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Marquise.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">May you have the protection of my defunct illusion.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="MONSIEUR_LAMBLIN" id="MONSIEUR_LAMBLIN"></a>MONSIEUR LAMBLIN</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By George Ancey</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Translated from the French by Barrett H. Clark.</span></small></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Marthe.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Servant.</span> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">First published in the <i>Stratford Journal</i>, March, 1917. Reprinted by permission of<br /> +Mr. Barrett H. Clark.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>MONSIEUR LAMBLIN</h2> + + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By George Ancey</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + +<p class="center">Translated from the French by Barrett H. Clark.</p> +<p> </p> + +<p>[<i>A stylish drawing-room. There are +doors at the back, and on each side. +Down-stage to the right is a window; +near it, but protected by a screen, is a +large arm-chair near a sewing-table. +Down-stage opposite is a fire-place, on +each side of which, facing it, are a sofa +and another large arm-chair; next the +sofa is a small table, and next to it, in +turn, a stool and two chairs. This part +of the stage should be so arranged as to +make a little cozy-corner. The set is +completed by various and sundry lamps, +vases with flowers, and the like.</i></p> + +<p><i>As the curtain rises, the servant enters +to Lamblin, Marthe and Madame +Bail, bringing coffee and cigarettes, +which he lays on the small table.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>settling comfortably into +his chair</i>]. Ah, how comfortable it is! +Mm—! [<i>To Marthe.</i>] Serve us our +coffee, my child, serve us our coffee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe</span> [<i>sadly</i>]. Yes, yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>aside</i>]. Always something +going round and round in that little head +of hers! Needn't worry about it—nothing +serious.—Well, Mother-in-law, what +do you say to the laces, eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Delicious! It must +have cost a small fortune! You have +twenty yards there!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Five thousand francs! Five +thousand francs! [<i>To Marthe.</i>] Yes, +madame, your husband was particularly +generous. He insists upon making his +wife the most beautiful of women and +giving her everything her heart desires. +Has he succeeded?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Thank you. I've really never +seen such lovely malines. Madame Pertuis +ordered some lately and they're not +nearly so beautiful as these.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> I'm glad to hear it. Well, +aren't you going to kiss your husband—for +his trouble? [<i>She kisses him.</i>] +Good! There, now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail</span> [<i>to Lamblin</i>]. You +spoil her!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>to Marthe</i>]. Do I spoil you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Yes, yes, of course.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> That's right. Everybody +happy? That's all we can ask, isn't that +so, Mamma Bail? Take care, I warn +you! If you continue to look at me that +way I'm likely to become dangerous!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Silly man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail</span> [<i>to Marthe</i>]. Laugh, +why don't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> I do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>bringing his wife to him and +putting her upon his knee</i>]. No, no, but +you don't laugh enough, little one. Now, +to punish you, I'm going to give you another +kiss. [<i>He kisses her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Oh! Your beard pricks so! +Now, take your coffee, or it'll get cold, +and then you'll scold Julie again. [<i>A +pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> It looks like pleasant +weather to-morrow!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> What made you think +of that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> The particles of sugar have +all collected at the bottom of my cup. +[<i>He drinks his coffee.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> As a matter of fact, I +hope the weather will be nice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Do you have to go out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> I must go to Argentuil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Now, my dear mother-in-law, +what are you going to do at Argentuil? +I have an idea that there must be +some old general there—?</p> + +<p>MADAME BAIL [<i>ironically</i>]. Exactly! +How would you like it if—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Don't joke about such +things!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> You needn't worry! +Catch me marrying again!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>timidly</i>]. There is a great +deal to be said for the happiness of married +life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> For the men!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> For every one. Is not the +hearth a refuge, a sacred spot, where +both man and woman find sweet rest +after a day's work? Deny it, Mother. +Here we are, the three of us, each doing +what he likes to do, in our comfortable +little home, talking together happily. +The mind is at rest, and the heart quiet. +Six years of family life have brought us +security in our affection, and rendered +us kind and indulgent toward one another. +It is ineffably sweet, and brings +tears to the eyes. [<i>He starts to take a +sip of cognac.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe</span> [<i>preventing him</i>]. Especially +when one is a little—lit up!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Marthe, that's not at +all nice of you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>to Madame Bail</i>]. Ah, +you're the only one who understands me, +Mother! Now, little one, you're going +to give me a cigar, one of those on the +table.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe</span> [<i>giving him a cigar</i>]. Lazy! +He can't even stretch his arm out!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> You see, I prefer to have +my little wife serve me and be nice to +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail</span> [<i>looking at them both</i>]. +Shall I go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Why should you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Well—because—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>understanding</i>]. Oh! No, +no, stay with us and tell us stories. The +little one is moody and severe, I don't +dare risk putting my arm around her. +Her religion forbids her—expanding!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Then you don't think +I'll be in the way?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> You, Mother! I tell you, +the day I took it into my head to bring +you here to live with us, I was an extremely +clever man. It's most convenient +to have you here. Men of business +like me haven't the time to spend all +their leisure moments with their wives. +Very often, after a day's work at the +office, I'm not at liberty to spend the evening +at home: I must return to the office, +you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> As you did yesterday!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> As I did yesterday. And +when I take it into my head to stroll +along the boulevard—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Or elsewhere!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> You insist on your little +joke, Mother. If, I say, I take it into +my head to go out, there's the little one +all alone. You came here to live with +us, and now my conscious is easy: I +leave my little wife in good hands. I +need not worry. There were a thousand +liberties I never indulged in before you +came. Now I take them without the +slightest scruple.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> How kind of you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Don't you think so, little +one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> I believe that Mamma did +exactly the right thing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> You see, I want people to +be happy. It is not enough that I should +be: every one must be who is about me. +I can't abide selfish people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> You're right!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> And it's so easy not to be! +[<i>A pause.</i>] There is only one thing +worrying me now: I brought a whole +package of papers with me from the office, +which I must sign.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> How is business now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Not very good.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Did M. Pacot reimburse +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Yes, did he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> It's been pretty hard these +past three days, but I am reimbursed, +and that's all I ask. Now I'm going to +sign my papers. It won't take me more +than a quarter of an hour. I'll find you +here when I come back, shan't I? [<i>To +Marthe.</i>] And the little one will leave +me my cognac, eh? See you soon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Yes, see you soon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>to Marthe</i>]. You'll let me +have my cognac?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> No! It's ridiculous! It'll +make you ill. [<i>Lamblin goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> There's a good boy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> You always stand up for +him. The world is full of "good boys" +of his sort. "Good boys"! They're all +selfish!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Don't get so excited!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> I'm not in the least excited. +I'm as calm now as I was excited a year +ago when I learned of Alfred's affair.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> I understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> No, you don't understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> You didn't behave at +all reasonably, as you ought to have done +long since. You still have absurd romantic +ideas. You're not at all reasonable.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe</span> [<i>very much put out</i>]. Well, +if I still have those absurd ideas, if I +rebel at times, if, as you say, I'm unreasonable, +whom does it harm but me +alone? What do you expect? The bare +idea of sharing him is repulsive to me. +Think of it a moment—how perfectly +abominable it all is! Why, we are practically +accomplices! I thought we were +going to discuss it with him just now! +It will happen, I know!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> What do you intend to +do about it? You keep on saying the +same thing. I'm an experienced woman. +Why don't you take my word, and be a +philosopher, the way all women are, the +way I've had to be more than once? If +you think for one moment that your own +father—! Well, we won't say anything +about him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Philosopher, philosopher! A +nice way to put it! In what way is that +Mathilde Cogé, who is his mistress, better +than I? I'd like to know that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> In any event, he might +have done much worse. She is a widow, +a woman of the world, and she isn't ruining +him. I know her slightly; I've seen +her at Madame Parent's. She just seems +a little mad, and not in the least spiteful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe</span> [<i>raging</i>]. Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> But what are you going +to do about it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> It would be best to separate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Why didn't you think +of that sooner? You know very well +you'd be sorry the moment you'd done it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Don't you think that would +be best for us all? What am I doing +here? What hopes have I for the future? +Merely to complete the happiness +of Monsieur, who deigns to see in me an +agreeable nurse, who occasionally likes +to rest by my side after his escapades +elsewhere! Thank you so much! I +might just as well go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> That would be madness. +You wouldn't be so foolish as to +do it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Yes—I know—society +would blame me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> That's the first point. +We should submit to everything rather +than do as some others do and fly in the +face of convention. We belong to society.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> In that case I should at +least have peace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Peace! Nothing of +the sort, my dear. You know very well, +you would have regrets.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe</span> [<i>ironically</i>]. What regrets?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> God knows! Perhaps, +though you don't know it, you still love +him, in some hidden corner of your heart. +You may pity him. You can go a long +way with that feeling. Perhaps you have +same vague hope—[<i>Marthe is about to +speak.</i>] Well, we won't say any more +about that. And then you are religious, +you have a big forgiving soul. Aren't +these sufficient reasons for waiting? You +may regret it. Believe me, my dear +child. [<i>Marthe stands silent, and Madame +Bail changes her attitude and tone +of voice.</i>] Now, you must admit, you +haven't so much to complain of. Your +husband is far from the worst; indeed, +he's one of the best. What would you +do if you were in Madame Ponceau's +position? Her husband spends all their +money and stays away for two and three +months at a time. He goes away, is not +seen anywhere, and when he returns, he +has the most terrible scenes with poor +Marie, and even beats her! Now, Alfred +is very good to you, pays you all +sorts of attentions, he comes home three +evenings a week, gives you all sorts of +presents. And these laces! He never +bothers you or abuses you. See how nice +he was just a few minutes ago, simple +and natural! He was lovely, and said +the pleasantest imaginable things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. He flattered you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> That isn't the reason!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> That you say nice things +about him? Nonsense! He pleases and +amuses you. You don't want me to apply +for a separation because you want +him near you, and because you are afraid +of what people will say. Be frank and +admit it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Marthe, that's not at +all nice of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> It's the truth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> No, no, nothing of the +sort.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Another thing that grates +on me in this life we are leading is to see +the way my mother takes her son-in-law's +part against me. You find excuses +for him on every occasion; and your one +fear seems to be that he should hear +some random word that will wound him; +and the proof is that he never interrupts +one of our conversations—which are always +on the same subject—but that you +don't fail to make desperate signs to me +to keep still!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> What an idea! +[<i>Marthe is about to reply, when Madame +Bail perceives Lamblin reëntering, +and signs to Martha to say nothing +more.</i>] It's he! [<i>Marthe shrugs her +shoulders.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Lamblin.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>joyfully</i>]. There, that's +done. One hundred and two signatures. +Kiss me, little one. In less than an hour +I've earned a thousand francs for us. +Isn't that splendid?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter a servant.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Monsieur?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Servant</span> [<i>embarrassed</i>]. Some one—from +the office—who wishes to speak +with Monsieur.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> From the office? At this +time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Yes, Monsieur.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Say that I am with my +family, and that I am not receiving any +one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> That is what I said, but the—person—insists.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> How annoying!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> See him, dear, Marthe +and I will go out and you may see him +here. No one will disturb you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Yes, it's best to see him! +[<i>They make ready to go out; pick up +their work, and so on.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>to the servant</i>]. Tell him to +come in. [<i>The servant goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe</span> [<i>to Madame Bail, as she +points after the servant</i>]. Did you notice? +Adolphe was very embarrassed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Now what are you going +to worry about?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> I tell you, I saw it! [<i>The +women go out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> This is too much! Not a +moment of peace!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Madame Cogé.</i>]</p> + +<p>You?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> What do you think of +my trick?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Detestable as well as dangerous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> Come, come. I wanted +to go to the <i>Bouffes</i>, and I wanted you +to go with me. It's nine o'clock, but +we'll be in time for the principal play.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> No, no, no, impossible. +And what do you mean by falling upon +me this way without warning! My dear +Mathilde, what were you thinking about?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> I decided this morning. +You were so nice yesterday!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> You must go at once! +What if some one found you here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> Your wife? Quick, +then, we must be going. Take your hat, +say good-by. I'll wait for you downstairs. +I have a cab. [<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> I tell you, it's out of the +question. Go alone. I have a headache—I've +smoked too much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> You refuse? And I +was looking forward so—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Now, listen to me, my dear: +I have told you once for all, I'm not a +rounder. I like everything well regulated. +I have my own little habits, and +I don't like something to come along and +upset everything. I'm very much of a +family man, I've often impressed that +fact upon you, and I'm astonished, perfectly +astonished, that you don't take +that into account.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé</span> [<i>in a high voice</i>]. You +make me tired. So there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Don't scream so! I tell +you, I wouldn't go out to-night for anything +under the sun. Yesterday, Heaven +knows, I was only too happy to be with +you: we enjoyed ourselves; it was most +pleasant. As for this evening—no: to-morrow. +We decided on Mondays, +Wednesday, Fridays, and a Sunday from +time to time. I have no wish to alter +that schedule. I'm regulated like a +cuckoo clock. You don't seem to believe +that. I strike when I'm intended +to strike.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> That is as much as to +say that you like me three days a week, +and the rest of the time I mean as little +to you as the Grand Turk! That's a +queer kind of love!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Not at all. I think of you +very often, and if you were to disappear, +I should miss you a great deal. +Only it's a long way between that and +disturbing my equilibrium.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> And I suppose you +love your wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Are you jealous?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> I am, and I have reason +to be be....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> How childish of you! You +know very well that you are the only +woman, only—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> Ah, there is an +"only"!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Yes,—only, just because I +love you is no reason why I should feel +no affection for her, and that you should +treat her as you do! She is so devoted!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> What is there so extraordinary +about her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>becoming excited</i>]. She does +for me what others would not do—you +for instance! She has a steady affection +for me; I keep it for my bad moments; +her action doesn't turn in every wind. +You should see her, so resigned, so +anxious to do everything for my comfort +and convenience! She's worried when I +have a headache, she runs for my slippers +when I come home in wet weather—from +your house! [<i>Deeply moved.</i>] You +see that cognac there? That was the +second glass I poured out for myself this +evening; the moment I started to drink +it her little hand stretched forth and +took it from me, because she said I would +make myself ill! [<i>He starts to weep.</i>] +You know, I poured it out just in order +that she should prevent my drinking it. +These things stir the heart! [<i>A pause.</i>] +Now you must go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> No, no. I love you, +and I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> You are selfish. And you +know I can't stand selfish people. You +want to deprive me of a quiet evening in +the bosom of my family.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> I want you to love me, +and me alone. I want you to leave your +home if need be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Yes, and if I were to fall +sick—which might happen, though I +have a strong constitution, thank God!—I +know you. You're the best woman +in the world, but that doesn't prevent +your being a little superficial!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> Superficial!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Yes, you are, and you can't +deny it! Your dropping in on me, like +a bolt from the blue, proves it conclusively. +And when you once begin chattering +about yourself, about your dresses, +oh, my! You never stop. You can't be +serious, your conversation is not the sort +that pleases a man, flatters and amuses +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> You never talk about <i>him</i>! +One night I remember, I was a little sick +and you sent me home. <i>There</i> they made +tea for me. The cook was already in bed, +and Marthe didn't hesitate an instant to +go to the kitchen and soil her hands!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> When was that? When +was that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> For God's sake, don't scream +so! Not more than two weeks ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> You didn't say what +was the matter with you, that's all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> I complained enough, +Heaven knows. [<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> Then you won't come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé</span> [<i>resolutely</i>]. Very well, +then, farewell.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Now, you mustn't get +angry. [<i>He puts his arm round her +waist</i>]. You know I can't do without +you. You are always my dear little Mathilde, +my darling little girl. Aren't +you? Do you remember yesterday, eh? +You know I love you—deeply?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> On Mondays, Wednesdays, +Fridays, and from time to time on +Sundays. Thanks! [<i>She starts to go.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Mathilde!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> Good evening. [<i>Returning +to him.</i>] Do you want me to tell +you something? Though I may be superficial, +<i>you</i> are a selfish egotist, and you +find your happiness in the tears and suffering +of those who love you! Good-by! +[<i>She starts to go again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Mathilde, Mathilde, dear! +To-morrow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé</span> [<i>returning</i>]. Do you +want me to tell you something else? +When a man is married and wants to have +a mistress, he would do much better and +act more uprightly to leave his wife!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>simply</i>]. Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Cogé.</span> Why?—Good evening! +[<i>She goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Mathilde, Mathilde! Did I +make her angry? Oh, she'll forget it all +in a quarter of an hour. My, what a +headache! [<i>Catching sight of Marthe, +who enters from the right.</i>] Marthe! +She looks furious! She saw Mathilde go +out! What luck!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe</span> [<i>furiously</i>]. Who was that +who just left?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Why—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Who was that who just left? +Answer me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> It was—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> Madame Cogé, wasn't it? +Don't lie, I saw her! What can you be +thinking of? To bring your mistress +here! I don't know what's prevented my +going away before, and leaving you to +your debauchery! This is the end—understand? +I've had enough. You're +going to live alone from now on. [<i>He +starts to speak.</i>] Alone. Good-by, monsieur!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>moved</i>]. Marthe! [<i>She +dashes out. Lamblin goes to the door +through which Marthe has gone.</i>] Marthe, +Marthe, little one! Tell me that you +forgive me. [<i>Coming down-stage.</i>] It's +all up! Good Lord!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Madame Bail.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>goes to her, nearly in tears</i>]. +Oh, Mother, all is lost!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> No, no, you great +child! I know everything, and I promise +it will be all right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> No, no, I tell you. Marthe +told me she wanted to leave me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Now, don't carry on +that way. I don't want to see you cry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> But how can I be calm +when my whole future is ruined?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Nothing of the sort. +Don't you think I know my own daughter? +She is too well educated, she has +too much common sense, to leave you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>a little consoled</i>]. You +think so? Oh, if that were only true!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> But it is true! She's +crying now; her tears will ease her, and +make her change her mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Yes, yes, let her cry, let her +cry all she wants to!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> I tell you she is yours; +she loves you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>brightening</i>]. Is that true? +[<i>Madame Bail nods.</i>] How happy I am! +[<i>A pause. His attitude changes.</i>] But +there's one thing that troubles me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>embarrassed</i>]. No, nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Confide in me. Tell +me. [<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Well, that lady who came +here this evening—I'm afraid I was a +little short with her. I think I offended +her. I practically showed her the door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> Don't worry about +that. Perhaps you weren't so rude as you +thought you were.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> No, I'm sure. I know very +well that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> You mustn't worry and +get all excited—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin.</span> Do you know anything +about it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> No, nothing, only—as +I rather suspected what was going on in +here—and was afraid—of a quarrel—I +met her as she was going out, and I—spoke +to her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>taking her hands—joyfully</i>]. +I thank you! [<i>They are both +embarrassed for a moment, then sit +down.</i>] Ah, good. Well, and Marthe?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail</span> [<i>pointing to Marthe who +enters</i>]. There she is. What did I tell +you? [<i>Marthe enters without saying a +word. She brings her work, Madame +Bail takes up hers, and sits next her. A +pause. Madame Bail speaks to Marthe.</i>] +What a pretty design! Where did you +find the pattern?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe.</span> I just picked it up at the +store.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame Bail.</span> It's charming. I must +get one like it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>ill at ease</i>]. May I see it, +little one? [<i>Marthe unrolls the embroidery +for him and shows it.</i>] Oh, it's perfectly +lovely! We men would be hard +put to it to make anything half as beautiful! +[<i>He laughs awkwardly, and pours +out some cognac, in full sight of Marthe.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marthe</span> [<i>quickly</i>]. That's ridiculous, +Alfred. [<i>Then she says slowly, as she +lowers her eyes.</i>] You'll make yourself +ill!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lamblin</span> [<i>in perfect contentment</i>]. +How charming she is!</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="FRANCOISE_LUCK" id="FRANCOISE_LUCK"></a>FRANÇOISE' LUCK</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By Georges de Porto-Riche</span><br /> +<small>(La Chance de Françoise.)<br /> +<span class="smcap">Translated by Barrett H. Clark.</span></small></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1917, by Stewart & Kidd Company.<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + +<p> </p> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS REPRESENTED</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Marcel Desroches.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Guérin.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Jean.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Françoise.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> +</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Scene</span>: <i>Auteuil</i>.<br /> + <span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>Present</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="center">Presented for the first time December 10,1888, in Paris, at the Théâtre Libre.</p> + + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Françoise' Luck</span> is reprinted from "Four Plays of the Free Theatre," translated by<br /> +Barrett H. Clark by permission of Messrs. Stewart & Kidd<br /> +Company, Cincinnati, Ohio.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>FRANÇOISE' LUCK</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Georges de Porto-Riche</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>A studio. At the back is a door opening +upon a garden; doors to the right and +left; likewise a small inconspicuous door +to the left. There are a few pictures on +easels. The table is littered with papers, +books, weapons, bric-a-brac. Chairs and +sofas. It is eleven o'clock in the morning.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>a small, frail woman, with +a melancholy look, at times rather mocking. +As the curtain rises she is alone. +She raises and lowers the window-blind +from time to time</i>]. A little more! +There! Oh, the sunlight! How blinding! +[<i>Glancing at the studio with satisfaction.</i>] +How neat everything is! [<i>In +attempting to take something from the +table, she knocks some papers to the +floor.</i>] Well! [<i>Seeing a letter, among +the papers she is picking up.</i>] A letter! +From Monsieur Guérin—[<i>Reading.</i>] +"My dear friend, why do you persist in +keeping silence? You say very little of +the imprudent woman who has dared to +become the companion of the handsome +Marcel! Do you recompense her for her +confidence in you, for her courage? You +are not at all like other men: your frivolity, +if you will permit the term, +your—" [<i>Interrupting herself.</i>] He +writes the word! [<i>Continuing.</i>] "Your +cynicism makes me tremble for you. Absent +for a year! How much friendship +gone to waste! Why were we thrust +apart the moment you were married? +Why did my wife's health make sunlight +an absolute necessity for her? We are +now leaving Rome; in a month I'll drop +in on you at Auteuil—" [<i>Interrupting +herself again.</i>] Very soon!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Marcel appears at the back.</i>]</p> + +<p>"I am very impatient to see you, and +Very anxious to see Madame Desroches. +I wonder whether she will take to me? +I hope she will. Take care, you villain, +I shall cross-question her carefully, and +if I find the slightest shadow upon her +happiness, her friend-to-be will be an +angry man." [<i>She stops reading and +says to herself, sadly.</i>] A friend—I +should like that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>carelessly dressed. He is of +the type that appeals to women</i>]. Ah, +inquisitive, you read my letters?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Oh, it's an old one—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>chaffing her</i>]. From Guérin?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I found it there, when I +was putting the studio in order.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>tenderly</i>]. The little romantic +child is looking for a friend?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I have so much to tell, so +much about my recent happiness!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Am I not that friend?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You are the man I love. +Should I consult with you, where your +happiness is concerned?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Too deep for me! [<i>Yawning.</i>] +Oh, I'm tired!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Did you come in late last +night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Three o'clock.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You were very quiet, you +naughty man!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Were you jealous?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> The idea! I am morally +certain that you love no one except your +wife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>sadly</i>]. It's true, I love no +one except my wife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>chaffing him in turn</i>]. +Poor Marcel!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I was bored to death at that +supper; I can't imagine why.—They all +tell me I'm getting stout.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> That's no reason why you +shouldn't please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> God is very unjust.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> So they say!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>stretching out on a sofa</i>]. +Excuse my appearance, won't you, Françoise? +[<i>Making himself comfortable.</i>] +I can't keep my eyes open any longer +nowadays. The days of my youth—Why, +I was—[<i>He stops.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You were just the right +age for marriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>as if to banish the idea</i>]. Oh! +[<i>A pause.</i>] I'm sure you will get along +well with Guérin. Yours are kindred +spirits—you're alike—not in looks, however.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Morally, you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Yes, The comparison flatters +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> He's like this, then; sentimental, +a good friend, and a man of +honor. Yes, I think I shall get along +nicely with him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> What a sympathetic nature +you have! You've never seen him, and +you know him already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> How long has he been +married?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> He was born married!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Tell me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Ten years, I think.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> He's happy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Very.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> What sort of woman is +she?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Lively.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Though virtuous?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> So they say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Then Madame Guérin and +the handsome Martel—eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> A friend's wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> It's very tempting—[<i>Marcel +seems to take this with ill-humor; +he is about to put on his hat.</i>] +Are you going out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I lunch at the club.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Very well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I'm—a little nervous; I need +a breath of air.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Paris air!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Precisely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> And your work?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I'm not in the mood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> It's only ten days before +the Salon: you'll never be ready.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> What chance have I, with my +talent?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You have a great deal of +talent—it's recognized everywhere.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I did have.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Will you be home for dinner?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>tenderly</i>]. Of course! And +don't allow any black suspicion to get +the better of you: I'm not lunching with +anybody!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I suspect you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>gratefully</i>]. 'Til later, then! +[<i>A pause. Frankly.</i>] Of course, I don't +always go where I tell you I'm going. +Why should I worry you? But if you +think I—do what I ought not to do, you +are mistaken. I'm no longer a bachelor, +you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Just a trifle, aren't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> No jealousy, dear! The day +of adventures is dead and buried. Thirty-five +mortal years, a scarcity of hair, a +noticeable rotundity—and married! +Opportunities are fewer now!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>playfully</i>]. Don't lose +courage, your luck may return. A minute +would suffice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>mournfully</i>]. I don't dare +hope.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Married! It was never +your destiny to be a proprietor, you are +doomed to be a tenant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>as he is about to leave, sees +a letter on the table</i>]. Oh, a letter, and +you said nothing to me about it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I didn't see it. Jean must +have brought it while you were asleep.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> From Passy! I know that +hand! [<i>Aside, with surprise.</i>] Madame +Guérin—Madeleine! Well! [<i>Reading.</i>] +"My dear friend I lunch to-day with +my aunt Madame de Monglat, at La +Muette—as I used to. Come and see +me before noon, I have serious things to +discuss with you." [<i>He stops reading; +aside, much pleased.</i>] A rendezvous! +And after three years! Poor Guérin! +No! It wouldn't be decent now! No!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>aside</i>]. He seems to be +waking up!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>aside</i>]. They must have returned! +Françoise was right—a minute +would suffice! The dear girl!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> No bad news?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>in spite of himself</i>]. On the +contrary!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>embarrassed</i>]. It's from that +American woman who saw my picture +the other day—at Goupil's, you remember? +She insists that I give it to her for +ten thousand francs. I really think I'll +let her have it. Nowadays you never +can tell—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I think you would be very +wise to sell.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>handing her the letter</i>]. +Don't you believe me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Absolutely.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Marcel puts the letter in his pocket. +A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>hesitating before he leaves; +aside</i>]. She's a darling; a perfect little +darling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Then you're not going +out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>surprised</i>]. Do you want to +send me away?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> If you're going out to +lunch, you had better hurry—the train +leaves in a few minutes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>suddenly affectionate</i>]. How +can I hurry when you are so charming? +You're adorable this morning!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> D'you think so?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>aside</i>]. Curious, but every +time I have a rendezvous, she is like +that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Good-by, then; I've had +enough of you! If you stay you'll upset +all my plans. I'd quite made up my +mind to be melancholy and lonely. It's +impossible to be either gay or sad with +you! Run along!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>taking off his hat, which he +had put on some moments before</i>]. I +tell you this is my house, and this my +studio. Your house is there by the garden.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Yes, it's only there that +you are my husband.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Oh! [<i>Reproachfully, and +with tenderness.</i>] Tell me, Françoise, +why don't you ever want to go out with +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You know I don't like society.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I'm seen so much alone!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> So much the better +for you; you will be taken for a +bachelor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> One might think the way you +talk, that husband and wife ought never +to live together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Perhaps I'd see you +oftener if we weren't married!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Isn't it a pleasure to you, +Madame, to be in the arms of your husband?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Isn't it likewise a pleasure +to be able to say, "He is free, I am not +his wife, he is not my husband; I am not +his duty, a millstone around his neck; I +am his avocation, his love? If he leaves +me, I know he is tired of me, but if +he comes back, then I know he loves +me"?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Françoise, you are an extremist!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You think so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I know your philosophy is +nothing but love. [<i>A pause.</i>] You cry +sometimes, don't you? When I'm not +here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Just a little.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I make you very unhappy! +When you are sad, don't conceal it from +me, Françoise; one of your tears would +make me do anything in the world for +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> One, yes! But, many?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Don't make fun of me: I am +serious. If I told you that my affection +for you is as great as yours, I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You would be lying.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Perhaps! But I think I +adore you! Every time I leave you, I +feel so lonely; I wander about like a lost +soul! I think something must be happening +to you. And when I come home +at midnight, and open the door, I feel an +exquisite sensation—Is that love? You +ought to know—you are an adept!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Perhaps.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>unthinkingly</i>]. You know, +Françoise, one can never be sure of one's +self.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Of course!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> No one can say, "I love to-day, +and I shall love to-morrow." You +or any one else.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>offended</i>]. I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> How can you tell, whether in +fifteen years—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Oh, I'm a little child—I'm +different from the others: I shall +always love the same man all his life. +But go on, you were saying?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Nothing. I want you to be +happy, in spite of everything, no matter +what may happen—no matter what I +may do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Even if you should deceive +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>tenderly</i>]. Deceive you? +Never! I care nothing about other +women! You are my happiness—not a +mere pastime.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Alas!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Why alas?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Because it is easier to do +without happiness than pleasure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>tenderly</i>]. Oh, you are all +that is highest and best in my life. I +prefer you to everything else! Let a +woman come between us, and she shall +have me to deal with! Call it selfishness, +if you will, or egotism—but your peace +of mind is an absolute necessity to me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You need not prepare me +for the future, you bad boy: I resigned +myself to "possibilities" some time ago. +I'm inexperienced and young in years, +but I'm older than you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Shall I tell you something? +I never deserved you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> That's true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> When I think how happy you +might have made some good and worthy +man, and that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Who then would have +made me happy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You are not happy now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I didn't marry for happiness; +I married in order to have you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I'm a fool! It would be +nice, wouldn't it, if I were an unfaithful +husband!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I'm sure you will never be +that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Do you really think so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I am positive. What +would be the use in deceiving me? I +should be so unhappy, and you wouldn't +be a bit happier.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You are right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> No, you will not deceive +me. To begin with, I have great luck.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>gayly</i>]. Of course, you have; +you don't know how much!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>coquettishly</i>]. Tell me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> What a child you are!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I should think so! Sometimes +I imagine that my happiness does +not lie altogether in those sparkling eyes +of yours and I try to fall in love with +another woman; I fall in deeper and +deeper for a week or two, and think I +am terribly infatuated. But just as I +am about to take the fatal leap, I fail: +Françoise' luck, you see! At bottom, +I'm a commencer; I can't imagine what +it is that saves me—and you. Sometimes +<i>she</i> has done something to displease +me, sometimes a divine word from your +lips—and a mere nothing, something +quite insignificant! For instance, Wednesday, +I missed the train, and came +back and had dinner with you. You see, +Françoise' luck!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Then you're not going out +to-day, are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Nor to-morrow; the whole +day is yours. We'll close the door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Aren't you happy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>kissing her behind the ear</i>]. +Hurry up, you lazy child!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I'm not pretty, but I have +my good points.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Not pretty?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> No, but I deserve to be.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Madeleine appears at the back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> I beg your pardon!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Françoise gives an exclamation of +surprise and escapes through the +door to the right without looking +again at the visitor.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>surprised</i>]. Madeleine!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine</span> [<i>stylishly dressed. With +an air of bravura</i>]. So this is the way +you deceive me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>gayly</i>]. My dear, if you think +that during these three years—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> I beg your pardon for interrupting +your little <i>tête-à-tête</i>, Marcel, +but your door was open, and there was +no servant to announce me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You know you are always +welcome here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Your wife is very attractive.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Isn't she? Shall I introduce +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Later—I've come to see +<i>you</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I must confess your visit is a +little surprising.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Especially after my sending +that note this morning. I thought I +should prefer not to trouble you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>uncertain</i>]. Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Well, no!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I'm sorry. [<i>Kissing her +hand.</i>] Glad to see you, at any rate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Same studio as always, +eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You are still as charming as +ever.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> You are as handsome as +ever.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I can say no less for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> I'm only twenty-eight.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> But your husband is fifty: +that keeps you young. How long have +you been back?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> A week.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> And I haven't seen Guérin +yet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> There's no hurry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> What's the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> He's a bit worried: you +know how jealous he is! Well, yesterday, +when I was out, he went through all +my private papers—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Naturally he came across +some letters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> <i>The</i> letters, my dear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Mine?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Yes. [<i>Gesture from Marcel.</i>] +Old letters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You kept them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> From a celebrity? Of +course!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> The devil!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Ungrateful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I beg your pardon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> You can imagine my explanation +following the discovery. My +dear Marcel, there's going to be a divorce.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> A—! A divorce?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Don't feel too sorry for +me. After all, I shall be free and almost +happy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> What resignation!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Only—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Only what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> He is going to send you +his seconds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>gayly</i>]. A duel? To-day? +You're not serious?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> I think he wants to kill +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> But that affair was three +years ago! Why, to begin with, he hasn't +the right!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Because it was so long +ago?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Three years is three years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> You're right: <i>now</i> you are +not in love with his wife: you love your +own. Time has changed everything. +Now your own happiness is all-sufficient. +I can easily understand your indignation +against my husband.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Oh, I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> My husband is slow, but +he's sure, isn't he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You're cruel, Madeleine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> If it's ancient history for +you, it's only too recent for him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Let's not speak about him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> But he ought to be a very +interesting topic of conversation just +now!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I hadn't foreseen his feeling +so keenly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> You must tell him how +sorry you are when you see him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> At the duel?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Elsewhere!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Where? Here, in my house?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> My dear, he may want to +tell you how he feels.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>aside, troubled</i>]. The devil! +And Françoise? [<i>Another pause.</i>] Oh, +a duel! Well, I ought to risk my life for +you; you have done the same thing for +me many times.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Oh, I was not so careful +as you were then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You are not telling me everything, +Madeleine. What put it into your +husband's head to look through your +papers?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Well, evidently <i>I</i> couldn't +have excited his jealousy. For a long +time he has had no reason to suspect +me! Were they my letters he was looking +for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> That is my affair!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Then I am expiating for +some one else?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> I'm afraid so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Perfect!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Forgive me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>reproachfully</i>]. So you are +deceiving him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> You are a perfect friend +to-day!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Then you really have a lover?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> A second lover! That +would be disgraceful, wouldn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> The first step always brings +the worst consequences.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> What are you smiling at?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Oh, the happiness of others! +Well, let's have no bitterness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> No, you might feel remorse!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Oh, Madeleine, why am I not +the guilty one this time? You are always +so beautiful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Your fault! You should +have kept what you had!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I thought you were tired of +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> You will never know what +I suffered; I cried like an abandoned +shopgirl!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Not for long, though?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Three months. When I +think I once loved you so much, and here +I am before you so calm and indifferent! +You look like anybody else now. How +funny, how disgusting life is! You meet +some one, do no end of foolish and +wicked and mean things in order to belong +to him, and the day comes when +you don't know one another. Each takes +his turn! I think it would have been +better—[<i>Gesture from Marcel.</i>] Yes—I +ought to try to forget everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> That's all buried in the past! +Wasn't it worth the trouble, and the suffering +we have to undergo now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> You, too! You have to +recall—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I'm sorry, but I didn't begin +this conversation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Never mind! It's all +over, let's say no more about it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> No, please! Let's—curse +me, Madeleine say anything you like +about me: I deserve it all!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Stop! Behave yourself, +married man! What if your wife heard +you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> She? Dear child! She is +much too afraid of what I might say to +listen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Dear child! You cynic! +I'll wager you have not been a model +husband since your marriage!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You are mistaken this time, +my dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> You are lying!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Seriously; and I'm more surprised +than you at the fact—but it's +true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Poor Marcel!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I do suffer!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Then you are a faithful +husband?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I am frivolous and—compromising—that +is all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> It's rather funny: you +seem somehow to be ready to belong to +some one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Madeleine, you are the first +who has come near tempting me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Is it possible?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I feel myself weakening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Thank you so much for +thinking of me, dear; I appreciate it, +but for the time being, I'll—consider.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Have you made up your +mind?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> We shall see later; I'll +think it over—perhaps! Yet, I rather +doubt if—. You haven't been nice to +me to-day, your open honest face hasn't +pleased me at all. You're so carelessly +dressed! I don't think you're interesting +any more. No, I hardly think so!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> But, Madeleine—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Don't call <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'be'">me</ins> Madeleine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Madame Guérin! Madame +Guérin! if I told you how much your +note meant to me! How excited I was! +I trembled when I read it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> I'll warrant you read it +before your wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> It was so charming of you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> How depraved you are!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> How well you know me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Fool!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I adore you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> That's merely a notion of +yours! You imagine, since you haven't +seen me for so long—I've just come +back from a long trip!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Don't shake my faith in you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Think of your duties, my +dear; don't forget—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> My children? I have none.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Your wife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>in desperation</i>]. You always +speak of her!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Love her, my friend, and +if my husband doesn't kill you to-morrow, +continue to love her in peace and +quiet. You are made for a virtuous life +now—any one can see that. I flatter +you when I consider you a libertine. +You've been spoiled by too much happiness, +that's the trouble with you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>trying to kiss her</i>]. Madeleine, +if you only—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine</span> [<i>evading him</i>]. Are you +out of your wits?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Forgive me: I haven't quite +forgotten! Well, if I am killed it will +be for a good reason.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Poor dear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> It will! This duel is going +to compromise you fearfully. Come +now, every one will accuse you to-morrow; +what difference does it make to +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> I'm not in the mood!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Now <i>you</i> are lying!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> I don't love you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Nonsense! You're sulking!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> How childish! Don't +touch me! You want me to be unfaithful +to everybody! Never! [<i>Changing.</i>] +Yet—! No; it would be too foolish! +Good-by.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>kissing her as she tries to +pass him</i>]. Not before—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Oh, you've mussed my +hat; how awkward of you! [<i>Trying to +escape from Marcel's embrace.</i>] Let me +go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>jokingly</i>]. Let you go? In +a few days!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Good-by. My husband +may come any moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Are you afraid?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Yes, I'm afraid he might +forgive me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> One minute more!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> No! I have just time. +I'm going away this evening—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Going away?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> To London.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> With—<i>him</i>, the other?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> I hope so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Who knows? He may be +waiting for you this moment at Madame +de Montglat's, your aunt's—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> They are playing cards +together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> The way we are! What a +family!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Impudent!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> That's why you came.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine</span> [<i>about to leave</i>]. Shall I +go out through the models' door, as I +used to?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> If I were still a bachelor +you wouldn't leave me this way! You +would miss your train this evening, I'll +tell you that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> You may very well look at +that long sofa! No, no, my dear: not to-day, +thanks!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> In an hour, then, at Madame +de Montglat's!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Take care, or I'll make +you meet your successor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Then I can see whether you +are still a woman of taste.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madeleine.</span> Ah, men are very—I'll +say the word after I leave. [<i>She goes +out through the little door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>alone</i>]. "Men are very—!" +If we were, the women would have a +very stupid time of it!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He is about to follow Madeleine.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Françoise.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Who was that stylish looking +woman who just left, Marcel?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>embarrassed</i>]. Madame +Jackson, my American friend.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> My picture? Sold!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Ten thousand? Splendid! +Don't you think so? You don't seem +very happy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> The idea!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He picks up his hat.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>jealously</i>]. Are you going +to leave me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I am just going to Goupil's +and tell him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Then I'll have to lunch +all by myself! [<i>Marcel stops an instant +before the mirror.</i>] You look +lovely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>turning round</i>]. I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Oh, you'll succeed!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>enchanted, in spite of himself</i>]. +What can you be thinking of! +[<i>Aside.</i>] What if she were after all +my happiness? [<i>Reproachfully.</i>] Now, +Françoise—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I was only joking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>ready to leave</i>]. No moping, +remember? I can't have that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I know!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>tenderly. He stands at the +threshold. Aside</i>]. Poor child! Well +I may fail!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes out, left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>sadly</i>]. Where is he going? +Probably to a rendezvous. Oh, if +he is! Will my luck fail me to-day? +Soon he'll come back again, so well satisfied +with himself! I talk to him so +much about my resignation, I wonder +whether he believes in it? Why must I +be tormented this way forever?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Jean, with a visiting-card.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jean.</span> Is Monsieur here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Let me see!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She takes the card.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jean.</span> The gentleman is waiting, Madame.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Ask him to come in. +Quick, now!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Jean goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Guérin, at the back. As he +sees Françoise he hesitates before +coming to her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>cordially</i>]. Come in, Monsieur. +I have never seen you, but I already +know you very well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>a large, strong man, with +grayish hair</i>]. Thank you, Madame. I +thought I should find Monsieur Desroches +at home. If you will excuse +me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I beg you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> I fear I am intruding: it's +so early.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You intruding in Marcel's +home?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Madame—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> My husband will return +soon, Monsieur.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>brightening</i>]. Good!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Will you wait for him +here in the studio?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>advancing</i>]. Really, Madame, +it would be most ungrateful of me to +refuse your kindness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Here are magazines and +newspapers—I shall ask to be excused. +[<i>As she is about to leave.</i>] It was +rather difficult to make you stay!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Forgive me, Madame. +[<i>Aside ironically.</i>] Too bad! She's decidedly +charming!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Having gone up-stage, Françoise +suddenly returns.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> It seems a little strange to +you, Monsieur—doesn't it?—to see a +woman in this bachelor studio—quite at +home?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Why, Madame—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Before leaving you—which +I shall do in a moment—you must +know that there is one woman who is +very glad to know you have returned to +Paris!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> We just arrived this week.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Good!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>ironically</i>]. It's so long since +I've seen Marcel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Three years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> So many things have happened +since!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You find him a married +man, for one thing—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Happily married!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Yes, happily!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Dear old Marcel! I'll be so +glad to see him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I see you haven't forgotten +my husband, Monsieur. Thank you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> How can I help admiring +so stout and loyal a heart as his!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You'll have to like me, +too!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> I already do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Really? Then you believe +everything you write?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Yes, Madame.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Take care! This morning +I was re-reading one of your letters, in +which you promised me your heartiest +support. [<i>Offering him her hand.</i>] +Then we're friends, are we not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>after hesitating, takes her +hand</i>]. Good friends, Madame!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Word of honor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Word of honor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>sitting</i>]. Then I'll stay. +Sit down, and let's talk. [<i>Guérin is uncertain.</i>] +We have so much to say to +each other! Let's talk about you first.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>forced to sit down</i>]. About +me? But I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Yes, about you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>quickly</i>]. No, about <i>your</i> +happiness, your welfare.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> About my great happiness!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>ironically</i>]. Let us speak +about your—existence—with which you +are so content. I must know all the +happiness of this house!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Happy people never have +anything to say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> You never have troubles, I +presume?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> None, so far.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> But what might happen? +To-day you are living peacefully with +Marcel, a man whose marriage was, it +seems, strongly opposed. Life owes you +no more than it has already given you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> My happiness is complete. +I had never imagined that a +man's goodness could make a woman so +happy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Goodness?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Of course!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Love, you mean Madame!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Oh, Marcel's love for +me—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Something lacking?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> No!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>interested</i>]. Tell me. Am I +not your friend?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Seriously, Monsieur, you +know him very well: how could he be in +love with me? Is it even possible? He +allows one to love him, and I ask nothing +more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Nothing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Only to be allowed to continue. +[<i>Gesture from Guérin.</i>] I am +not like other women. I don't ask for +rights; but I do demand tenderness, and +consideration. He is free, I am not—I'll +admit that. But I don't mind, I +only hope that we may continue as we +are!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Have you some presentiment, +Madame?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I am afraid, Monsieur. +My happiness is not of the proud, demonstrative +variety, it is a kind of happiness +that is continually trembling for +its safety. If I told you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Do tell me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Later! How I pity any +one who loves and has to suffer for it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>surprised</i>]. You—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I am not on the side of +the jealous, of the betrayed—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>aside, sympathetically</i>]. Poor +little woman! [<i>With great sincerity.</i>] +Then you are not sure of him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>more and more excited</i>]. +He is Marcel! Admit for a moment that +he loves me to-day—I want so to believe +it! To-morrow will he love me? Does +he himself know whether he will love me +then? Isn't he at the mercy of a whim, +a passing fancy—of the weather, or the +appearance of the first woman he happens +to meet? I am only twenty, and I +am not always as careful as I might be. +Happiness is so difficult!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Yes, it is. [<i>To himself.</i>] It +is! [<i>To Françoise.</i>] Perhaps you are +conscientious, too sincere?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I feel that; yes, I think I +am, but every time I try to hide my +affection from him, he becomes indifferent, +almost mean—as if he were glad +to be relieved of a duty—of being good!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> So it's come to that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You see, Marcel can't get +used to the idea that his other life is +over, dead and buried, that he's married +for good—that he must do as others do. +I do my best and tell him, but my very +presence only reminds him of his duties +as a husband. For instance [<i>interrupting +herself</i>]. Here I am telling you all +this—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Oh!—Please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. He likes to go +out alone at night, without me. He +knows me well enough to understand that +his being away makes me very unhappy, +and as a matter of form, of common +courtesy, he asks me to go with him. I +try to reason and convince myself that he +doesn't mean what he says, but I can't +help feeling sincerely happy when once +in a while I do accept his invitation. +But the moment we leave the house I +realize my mistake. Then he pretends +to be in high spirits, but I know all the +time he is acting a part; and when we +come home again he lets drop without +fail some hint about having lost his liberty; +he says he took me out in a moment +of weakness, that he really wanted +to be alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>interrupting</i>]. And when he +does go out alone?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Then I am most unhappy; +I'm in torment for hours and hours. I +wonder where he can be, and then I'm +afraid he won't come back at all. When +the door opens, when I hear him come +in, I'm so happy I pay no attention to +what he tells me. But I made a solemn +vow never to show the least sign of jealousy. +My face is always tranquil, and +what I say to him never betrays what I +feel. I never knowingly betray myself, +but his taking way, his tenderness, soon +make me confess every fear; then he +turns round and, using my own confession +as a weapon, shows me how wrong +I am to be afraid and suspicious. And +when sometimes I say nothing to him, +even when he tries to make me confess, +he punishes me most severely by telling +me stories of his affairs, narrow escapes, +and all his temptations. He once told +me about an old mistress of his, whom +he had just seen, a very clever woman, +who was never jealous! Or else he comes +in so late that I must be glad, for if he +came in later, it would have been all +night! He tells me he had some splendid +opportunity, and had to give it up! A +thousand things like that! He seems to +delight in making me suspect and doubt +him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Poor little woman!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> That's my life; as for my +happiness, it exists from day to day. +[<i>With determination.</i>] If I only had the +right to be unhappy! But I must always +smile, I must be happy, not only in +his presence, but to the very depths of +my soul! So that he may deceive me +without the least remorse! It is his +pleasure!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She bursts into tears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>rising</i>]. The selfish brute!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Isn't my suffering a reproach +to him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> I pity you, Madame, and I +think I understand you better than any +one else. I have trouble not unlike your +own; perhaps greater, troubles for which +there is no consolation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> If you understand me, +Monsieur, advise me! I need you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>startled back into reality</i>]. +Me, help you? I? [<i>Aside.</i>] No!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You spoke of your friendship. +The time has come, prove that it +is genuine!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Madame, why did I ever see +you? Why did I listen to you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> What have you to regret?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Nothing, Madame, nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Explain yourself, Monsieur. +You—you make me afraid!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>trying to calm her suspicions</i>]. +Don't cry like that! There is no +reason why you should behave that way! +Your husband doesn't love you as he +ought, but he does love you. You are +jealous, that's what's troubling you. But +for that matter, why should he deceive +you? That would be too unjust.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>excited</i>]. Too unjust! +You are right, Monsieur! No matter +how cynical, how blasé a man may be, +isn't it his duty, his sacred duty, to say +to himself, "I have found a good and +true woman in this world of deceptions; +she is a woman who adores me, who is +only too ready to invent any excuse for +me! She bears my name and honors it; +no matter what I do, she is always true, +of that I am positive. I am always foremost +in her thoughts, and I shall be her +only love." When a man can say all +that, Monsieur, isn't that real, true happiness?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin</span> [<i>sobbing</i>]. Yes—that is happiness!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You are crying! [<i>A +pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> My wife—deceived me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Oh! [<i>A pause.</i>] Marcel—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Your happiness is in no danger! +Yesterday I found some old letters, +in a desk—old letters—that was all! +You weren't his wife at the time. It's +ancient history.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>aside</i>]. Who knows?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Forgive me, Madame; your +troubles remind me of my own. When +you told of the happiness you still have +to give, I couldn't help thinking of what +I had lost!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> So you have come to fight +a duel with my husband?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Madame—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You are going to fight +him? Answer me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> My life is a wreck now—I +must—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I don't ask you to forget; +Monsieur—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> Don't you think I have a +right?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Stop!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> I shall not try to kill him. +You love him too much! I couldn't do +it now. In striking him I should be injuring +you, and you don't deserve to +suffer; you have betrayed no one. The +happiness you have just taught me to +know is as sacred and inviolable as my +honor, my unhappiness. I shall not seek +revenge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>gratefully</i>]. Oh, Monsieur.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guérin.</span> I am willing he should live, +because he is so dear, so necessary to +you. Keep him. If he wants to spoil +your happiness, his be the blame! I +shall not do it. It would be sacrilege. +Good-by, Madame, good-by.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Guérin goes out, back, Françoise +falls into a chair, sobbing.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Marcel by the little door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>aside, with a melancholy air</i>]. +Refused to see me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>distinctly</i>]. Oh, it's you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>good-humoredly</i>]. Yes, it's I. +[<i>A pause. He goes toward her.</i>] You +have been crying! Have you seen +Guérin? He's been here!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Marcel!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Did he dare tell you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You won't see any more +of him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>astounded</i>]. He's not going +to fight?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> He refuses.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Thank you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I took good care of your +dignity, you may be sure of that. Here +we were together; I told him the story +of my life during the last year—how I +loved you—and then he broke down. +When I learned the truth, he said he +would go away for my happiness' sake.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I was a coward to deceive +that man! Is this a final sentence that +you pass on me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Marcel!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Both of you are big! You +have big hearts. I admire you both more +than I can say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>incredulously</i>]. Where are +you going? To get him to fight with +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>returning to her; angrily</i>]. +How can I, now? After what you have +done, it would be absurd. Why the devil +did you have to mix yourself up in something +that doesn't concern you? I was +only looking for a chance to fight that +duel!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Looking for a chance?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Oh, I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>between his teeth</i>]. That's +my affair! Everybody has his enemies—his +insults to avenge. It was a very +good thing that gentleman didn't happen +across my path!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> How dare you recall what +he has been generous enough to forget?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> How do you know that I +haven't a special reason for fighting this +duel? A legitimate reason, that must be +concealed from you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You are mistaken, dear: I +guess that reason perfectly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Really?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I know it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>bursting forth</i>]. Oh! Good! +You haven't always been so frightfully +profound.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Yes, I have, and your irony +only proves that I have not been so much +mistaken in what I felt by intuition.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Ah, marriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Ah, duty!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I love Madame Guérin, don't +I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I don't say that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You think it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> And if I do? Would it +be a crime to think it? You once loved +her—perhaps you have seen her again, +recently? Do I know where you go? +You never tell me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I tell you too much!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I think you do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You're jealous!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Common, if you like. +Come, you must admit, Marcel, Madame +Guérin is in some way responsible for +your excitement now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Very well then, I love her, I +adore her! Are you satisfied?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You should have told me +that first, my dear; I should never have +tried to keep you away from her.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She breaks into tears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> She's crying! Good, there's +liberty for you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. Liberty? I did +not suffer when I promised you your liberty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> That was your "resignation."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You knew life, I did not. +You ought never to have accepted it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You're like all the rest!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>more excited</i>]. Doesn't unhappiness +level us all?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I see it does!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> What can you ask for, +then? So long as you have no great happiness +like mine you are ready enough +to make any sacrifice, but when once you +have it, you never resign yourself to losing +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> That's just the difficulty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Be a little patient, dear: +I have not yet reached that state of cynicism +and subtlety which you seem to +want in your wife—I thought I came +near to your ideal once! Perhaps there's +some hope for me yet: I have promised +myself to do my best to satisfy your +ideal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>moved</i>]. I don't ask that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> You are right, I am very +foolish to try to struggle. What is the +good? It will suffice when I have lost +the dearest creature on earth—through +my foolishness, my blunders!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> The dearest creature?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I can't help it if he seems +so to me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>disarmed</i>]. You—you're trying +to appeal to my vanity!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I am hardly in the mood +for joking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>tenderly, as he kneels at her +feet</i>]. But you make me say things like +that—I don't <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'now'">know</ins> what! I am not bad—really +bad! No, I have not deceived +you! I love you, and only you! You! +You know that, Françoise! Ask—ask +any woman! All women!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>smiling through her tears</i>]. +Best of husbands! You're not going out +then? You'll stay?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>in Françoise's arms</i>]. Can I +go now, now that I'm here? You are so +pretty that I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Not when I'm in trouble.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Don't cry!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I forgive you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Wait, I haven't confessed +everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Not another word!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I want to be sincere.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> I prefer you to lie to me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> First, read this note—the +one I received this morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>surprised</i>]. From Madame +Guérin?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> You saw her not long ago. +Yes, she calmly told me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> That her husband had +found some letters!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> And that she was about to +leave for England with her lover.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Then she is quite consoled?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> Perfectly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Poor Marcel! And you +<ins class="correction" title="original reads 'want'">went</ins> to see her and try to prevent her +going away with him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> My foolishness was well punished. +She wouldn't receive me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise.</span> Then I am the only one +left who loves you? How happy I am!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel.</span> I'll kill that love some day +with my ridiculous philandering!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>gravely</i>]. I defy you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>playfully</i>]. Then I no longer +have the right to provoke Monsieur +Guérin? Now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Françoise</span> [<i>gayly</i>]. You are growing +old, Lovelace, his wife has deceived you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marcel</span> [<i>lovingly</i>]. Françoise' luck! +[<i>Sadly.</i>] Married!</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="ALTRUISM" id="ALTRUISM"></a>ALTRUISM</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Satire</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By Karl Ettlinger</span><br /> + +<small><span class="smcap">Translated by Benjamin F. Glazer.</span></small></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Benjamin F. Glazer.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p>The first performance of <span class="smcap">Altruism</span> was given by The Stage Society of Philadelphia +at the Little Theatre, Philadelphia, on January 28, 1916, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Beggar</span></td><td align='right'><i>Henry C. Sheppard</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Waiter</span></td><td align='right'><i>E. Ryland Carter</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Young Man</span></td><td align='right'><i>William H. McClure</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Cocotte</span></td><td align='right'><i>Sylvia Loeb.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Parisian</span></td><td align='right'><i>Edward B. Latimer</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">His Wife</span></td><td align='right'><i>Florence Bernstein</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Their Child</span></td><td align='right'><i>Jean Massey</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">An Artist</span></td><td align='right'><i>Theron J. Bamberger</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">An American</span></td><td align='right'><i>William J. Holt</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Gentleman</span></td><td align='right'><i>Caspar W. Briggs</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Another Gentleman</span></td><td align='right'><i>Norris W. Corey</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Pickpocket</span></td><td align='right'><i>Walter E. Endy</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Gendarme</span></td><td align='right'><i>William H. Russell</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Another Gendarme</span></td><td align='right'><i>Frederick Cowperthwaite</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Workingman</span></td><td align='right'><i>Walter D. Dalsimer</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Flower Girl</span></td><td align='right'><i>Katherine Kennedy</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Passing Lady</span></td><td align='right'><i>C. Warren Briggs</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Bystander</span></td><td align='right'><i>Charles E. Sommer</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">An Old Lady</span></td><td align='right'><i>Paulyne Brinkman</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Grisette</span></td><td align='right'><i>Florence M. Lyman</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">[<span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>The present</i>. <small>PLACE</small>: A Parisian Café by the Seine.]</p> + +<p class="center">Produced under the direction of Benjamin F. Glazer. Scene designed by H. Devitt<br /> +Welsh. Costumes designed by Martha G. Speiser.</p> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Beggar</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">A Townsman</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">A Townswoman</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Their Seven-year-old Son</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">An Artist</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">An American</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">A Cocotte</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">A Waiter</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">A Workingman</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">A Young Man</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Two Officers</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Crowd</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Place</span>: <i>Paris</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>Present</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <i>On the banks of the Seine.</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p>The play was later produced by the Washington Square Players, at the Comedy +Theatre, New York City. The professional and amateur stage rights are reserved +by the translator, Mr. Benjamin F. Glazer, Editorial Department, <i>The Press</i>, Philadelphia, +Pa., to whom all requests for permission to produce the play should be made.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>ALTRUISM</h2> + + +<p class="alignleft">A Satire</p> +<p class="alignright">By Karl Ettlinger</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>In the background the end of a pier. +On a post hangs a rope and a life buoy. +Close by the Beggar is sitting on the +floor. At right a street café; two tables +stand under the open sky on the street. +At one of the tables sits the Waiter, reading +a newspaper. At the other sits the +Cocotte and the blond Young Man. At +left on a public bench sits the Artist. He +has a sketch book and pencil with which +he is drawing the Cocotte, who has noticed +it and is flirting with him.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lady xes from Left to Right.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Man xes from Right to Left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>sings</i>]:</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Kind sir, have pity while you can,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Remember the old beggar man</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The poor beggar man.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Waiter</span> [<i>sitting at table, R. C., looks +up from his newspaper</i>]. Shut up!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> Don't get fresh! I was once +a <i>head</i> waiter!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Waiter.</span> That must have been a fine +place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> It was too. I traveled all +around the world as a waiter. I saw +better days before I became a beggar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>at table Left, fondly to +the Cocotte</i>]. Indeed if I were a millionaire—my +word of honor I would buy +you an automobile. Nothing would be +too dear for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte</span> [<i>at table Left</i>]. My darling +Kangaroo. How liberal you are. I am +sure I am your first love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man.</span> Yes—you are—that is +if I don't count the cook who has been +at our house for five years—yes, on my +word of honor.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He finishes in pantomime.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>to Waiter</i>]: Yes, yes, one +goes down. Life is a tight rope dance—before +you look around you've lost +your balance, and are lying in the dirt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Waiter</span> [<i>laying aside the paper</i>]. You +ought to go to work. That would do you +more good than talking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> I've tried working too. But +work for our kind is the surest way to +remain poor. And, do you know, begging +is no pleasure either. To get the +money centime by centime and no rest +from the police—well, well, if I'm born +into this world again I will become a +government official.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A man passes. Enter lady from +Left. Stops lady Center. Sings +and holds out his hat.</i>]</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +The rich man in his banquet hall,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has everything I long for!</span><br /> +The poor man gets the scraps that fall;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That's what I sing this song for.</span><br /> +Kind sir, have pity while you can—<br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Man exit Left.</i>]</p> + +<p>Do you see? he doesn't give me anything! +(Social enlightenment ends with +the lower classes. That is where need is +greatest and the police are thickest.)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>to the</i> <span class="smcap">Cocotte</span>]. I +would buy you a flying machine too, but +you shouldn't fly alone in it—Ah, to +soar with you a thousand meters above +the earth—and far and wide nothing—only +you and our love—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> What a wonderful boy you +are.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She flirts with the Artist.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> How often have I wanted to +commit suicide. But why should I gratify +my fellow man by doing that?—suicide +is the one sin I can see nothing funny +in. I always say to myself, so long as +there's a jail one can never starve.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Waiter.</span> You have no dignity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> No. My dignity was taken +away from me ten years ago by the law. +But I'm not so sure I want it back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Waiter</span> [<i>in disgust</i>]. I ought to call +the cops and have them drive you away +from here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>confidentially</i>]. You wouldn't +do that. Only yesterday I paid my colleagues +20 francs for this place. +[<i>Searches in his pockets.</i>] Here is a receipt. +I won't go away from here unless +the police carry me away in their +arms. The police seem to be the only +people who make a fuss over me these +days. [<i>Laughs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Waiter.</span> Disgusting old beggar. Why +on earth such people—[<i>The rest is lost +in his teeth.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Townsman, the Townswoman, +and their child enter. The Townsman +carries the child on his shoulder +and is perspiring from the +exertion.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Waiter X to Right of Table. Beggar +goes up stage Center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman</span> [<i>center Left with boy; +sighs</i>]. That is all I have to say, just +let me come to that. Just let me come to +it. On the spot I'll get a divorce.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman</span> [<i>following her</i>]. Give me +your word of honor on it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> Now I know what they +mean when they say that all men were +polygamists.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> Calm yourself, old woman. +It's all theoretical that married women +are good cooks and married men are +polygamists.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +The rich man in his banquet hall<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has everything I long for!</span><br /> +The poor....<br /> +</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> Let him banquet in peace.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They sit at the table from which the +Waiter has just risen.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> I want to give the poor man +something. Papa! Money! Papa! Money!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman</span> [<i>kisses child</i>]. A heart +of gold has my little Phillip. A disposition +like butter. He gets that from me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> What? Asking for money +or the oleo margerine disposition?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> When I give the poor man +something he makes a funny face and I +have to laugh. Papa, money!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> Since I've been married +I make all kinds of faces, but no one +gives me anything. [<i>Searches in his +pocket book.</i>] Too bad, I've nothing +smaller than a centime piece.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> Of course, you'd rather +bring up our Phillip to have a heart of +stone. Children should be taught to love +people. They must be brought up in +that way—to have regard and respect +for the most unfortunate fellow beings—How +that woman is perfumed. Women +like that shouldn't be permitted in the +city.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>to the Cocotte</i>]. I would +buy you two beautiful air ships, a half +moon for week days and a star for Sundays. +All my millions I would lay at +your feet. [<i>Raising his hand.</i>] Waiter—another +glass of water, please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> I'd like to kiss you, my little +wild horse.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Waiter dusts table, Right Center. +Flirts with the Artist.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Child, Man and Wife sit at table +Right Center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Waiter</span> [<i>to the Townsman</i>]. What +can I bring you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> For the child, a glass +of milk, but be sure it's well cooked. +[<i>To the Child.</i>] A little glass of good +ninni for my darling, a glass of ninni +from the big moo cow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman</span> [<i>mocking her</i>]. And for +me a glass of red wine—a little glass of +good red wine for the big moo-ox.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman</span> [<i>angry</i>]. That's just +like you. Begrudge a glass of milk to +your own child—naturally—so long as +you have your cigar and your wine—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> My dear, I hereby give +little Phillip permission to drink three +cows dry. And of my next week's wages, +you may buy him a whole herd of cows.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> I want chocolate! Chocolate, +mama!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> You shall have it. As +much as you want. Wouldn't you perhaps +like to have a glass of champagne, +little Phillip, and a Henry Clay cigar +and a salad made of a big moo-chicken?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>getting up, x to Center. +Jumps up and runs to the Artist</i>]. Sir! +Sir! This is unheard of. You've been +drawing this lady all the time. She is a +respectable lady, do you understand? +For all you know she may be my wife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist</span> [<i>phlegmatically</i>]. More than +that—for all I know she may be your +mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>stammering</i>]. My dear +sir—I must call you to account—what +do you mean by—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> Why are you so excited? +Isn't it a good likeness?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>confused</i>]. Of course, +it's a good likeness, that is—I ask you, +sir, how dare you to draw a picture of +my bride?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> These young people +are quarreling. You always bring me +to places like this. We can never go out +together but there's a scandal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte</span> [<i>who has drawn near and is +examining the drawing</i>]. I like that. +I'd like to own the drawing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> My dear lady, if it would give +you any pleasure....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> I couldn't think of taking it. +[<i>To the boy.</i>] Buy me the picture. +Sweetheart, will you buy it for me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man.</span> I don't think much of +it. You are far, far prettier.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> You won't refuse me this +one little request. How much do you +ask for the picture?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> I hadn't thought of selling it—but +because it is such a good likeness +of you, ten francs. But you must promise +that in return you will sit for me +again—[<i>With emphasis.</i>] perhaps at my +studio. To-morrow at noon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> Gladly! Very gladly! [<i>The +young man pays for the sketch.</i>] Would +you care to sit down and have something +with us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> If your fiancé doesn't object?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>coldly</i>]. Charmed! +[<i>The three sit.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Child.</span> The chocolate is no good. +I want some moo milk.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> In a minute, I'll take my +moo stick and tan your moo hide.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> [<i>Enters leading a dog on +a leash.</i>] [<i>From Left x Center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>sings</i>].</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +The rich man his banquet hall<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has everything I long for,</span><br /> +The poor man gets the crumbs that fall,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That's what I sing this song for.</span><br /> +Kind sir, have pity while you can,<br /> +Remember the old beggar man,<br /> +The poor beggar man.<br /> +</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> [<i>Has listened to the entire +song impassively.</i>] Are you through? +Waiter, put a muzzle on this man. [<i>x to +Table Right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman.</span> That is what I call an +elegant man. I have always wanted you +to have a suit made like that. Ask him +where he got it and what it cost.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> I couldn't ask an utter +stranger what his clothes cost.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman.</span> Of course not, but if +it was a woman you would have been +over there long ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> Mama, the bow-wow dog is +biting me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> My dear sir, your dog +is biting my son.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> You're mistaken, madame. +My dog has been carefully trained to +eat none other than boiled meat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist</span> [<i>to the Young Man</i>]. Pardon +me for asking—but is the lady your +wife or your fiancé?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>sits, puts his legs on the +two extra chairs</i>]. Waiter! Garçon! +Bring me a quart of Cliquot, and bring +my dog a menu card.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>At the word "Cliquot" the Cocotte +looks up and begins to flirt with +the American.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> The bow-wow dog is making +faces at me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> Look here, sir, your +dog is certainly about to bite my child.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>lights his pipe</i>]. How +much does your child cost?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> Cost! My child! Did +you ever hear of such a thing? I want +you to understand that my child p—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> Waiter! Tell this woman +not to shout so!—How much does your +child cost?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> My child costs—nothing! +Do you understand?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> Well, your child costs +nothing—my dog costs eight dollars. +Think that over—is your son a thoroughbred? +My dog is of the purest +breed—think that over—if your son +hurts my dog I'll hold you responsible. +Think that over. [<i>Fills his glass.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> What do you think that man +to be, little mouse?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man.</span> A full blooded American.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> I should say he's a German +who has spent two weeks in New York.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> Aristide, are you going +to sit there and permit your defenseless +wife to be insulted like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> As long as you have your +tongue, my dear, you are not defenseless.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman.</span> It is your business to +talk to him. [<i>Kisses the Child.</i>] My +poor little Phillip! Your father is no +man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> I was before I got married. +[<i>Crosses to the American.</i>] Sir, +my name is Aristide Beaurepard.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> Is that my fault?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> I am the father of a family.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> I am very sorry for you, +indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> I have a wife and children—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> You have only yourself to +blame.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> Your dog—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> I have no desire to discuss +dogs with you. I don't believe you +know anything about thoroughbred +dogs. Waiter, sit this man down in his +place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> This is I must say, this +is—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Waiter.</span> Monsieur, you must not make +a racket around you. This is a first class +establishment. A real prince once dined +here, I would have you understand. +Come on now, if you please. [<i>Leads +Townsman back to his seat.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman</span> [<i>sits unwillingly</i>]. Not a +centime tip will that fellow get from me. +Not a centime.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> Waiter, Waiter, bring my +dog a portion of liver, and not too fat. +And a roast potato.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> [<i>Coming down C.</i>] [<i>Jumps +up, cries out <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'widly'">wildly</ins>.</i>] I can't stand any +more. For eight days I have not had +a warm morsel of food in my stomach. +I am not a human being any more. +I'll kill myself. [<i>Runs to the edge of the +dock and jumps overboard.</i>] [<i>The +splash of the water is heard. The +Townswoman and the Waiter call "help, +help!" Whereupon, from every side a +crowd collects so that the entire background +is filled with people staring into +the water.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman.</span> For God's sake he has +thrown himself into the Seine. Oh, God! +Oh, God!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omnes.</span> He's in the river!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> [<i>At table Right.</i>] What +a noisy place this is.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Townsman at center throws off his +coat and is unbuttoning his vest +when his wife seizes him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman.</span> [<i>Center.</i>] [<i>Whimpering.</i>] +Aristide, remember you have a +wife and children.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> That is why I want to +do it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman.</span> Aristide, I'll jump in +after you—as true as I live I'll jump in +after you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> [<i>Slowly puts his coat on +again.</i>] Then I won't do it. [<i>Goes with +her into the crowd.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice.</span> Get the life buoy. [<i>Willing +hands try to unloosen the life buoy, but +it sticks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Voice.</span> Let that life buoy +alone. Don't you see the sign "Do not +touch"?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Man.</span> The buoy is no good. It +will not work.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Man.</span> Of course not. It's +city property.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte</span> [<i>shuddering</i>]. I can't look +at it. [<i>Comes back to her table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Woman.</span> Look! He's come up! +Over there!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> I can't see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman.</span> My little heart of gold +[<i>to her husband</i>]. Why don't you lift +him up? Don't you hear that the child +can't see? [<i>Townsman takes the child +on his shoulder.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>coming back to table</i>]. +These people are utterly heartless. It is +revolting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>loudly</i>]. I'll bet twenty +dollars he drowns. Who'll take the bet? +Twenty dollars.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man.</span> Are you a man or a +beast?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> Young man, better shut +your mouth. [<i>Fills his glass.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man.</span> Does no one hear know +the meaning of Altruism?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> Altruism! Ha, ha! [<i>Laughs +scornfully.</i>] Love of one's neighbor. +God preserve mankind from Altruism!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> What do you mean? You +are not in earnest?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> In dead earnest. [<i>Some one +in the crowd brings a boat hook and +reaches down into the river.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span>. I'll bet twenty-five dollars +that he doesn't drown—thirty dollars! +[<i>Disgustedly, seeing that no one takes +him up.</i>] Tightwads!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> Life is like that. One man's +success is another man's failure. He +who sacrifices himself for an idea is a +hero. He who sacrifices himself for a +fellow man is a fool.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>theatrically</i>]. No, it is +the highest, the noblest of instincts. +That is why my heart bleeds when I see +all these people stand indifferently by +while a fellow man is drowning. No one +jumps in after him—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> Jump in yourself, young +man, jump in yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>center</i>]. It is different +with me, I am with a lady—it +wouldn't be right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> Nobody will bet. This is +a hell of a bunch. They ought to see +one of our nigger lynchings. [<i>Strokes +the dog.</i>] Poor Molly! She is so nervous. +Things like this get her all excited.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Two Policemen enter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Policeman.</span> Look at the mob. +Something is liable to happen there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Policeman.</span> Isn't it forbidden +for such a mob to gather on the dock?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Policeman.</span> Sure, it's against +the law. Why shouldn't it be?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Policeman</span> [<i>shaking their +heads</i>]. This is no place for us. [<i>Exit +Left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist</span> [<i>to the Young Man</i>]. Does it +begin to dawn on you that true love of +one's neighbor would not only be monotonous +but unbearable as well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man.</span> Out there a man is +drowning—and you stand there moralizing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> Why not? We read a dozen +suicides every day. [<i>x to Chair Left.</i>] +Yet we go home and eat our dinner with +undiminished relish. Why then sentimentalize +over a drowning beggar? I +wouldn't rescue a man who had fallen +into the water much less one who had +jumped in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>passionately</i>]. Sir—I +despise you! [<i>Goes into the crowd.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A man has succeeded in prying up +the life buoy, now he throws it +into the water with the warning +cry "Look out."</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> Love of one's neighbor is a +mask. A mask that people wear to hide +from themselves their real faces.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>x to Artist Left</i>]. No, I +don't agree with you. I am strong for +love of one's neighbor. Indeed, the Bible +tells us to love our neighbor as ourselves. +Oh, I am very strong for it. I go to +Church on Sundays in the U. S. A. I +never touch a drop—in the U. S. A.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> The life buoy is sinking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Voice.</span> That's why they call +it a <i>life buoy</i>. [<i>Laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte</span> [<i>sympathetically</i>]. How interestingly +you talk. I love Americans.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> We have two kinds of +neighborly love back home. Neighborly +love that makes for entertaining and +dancing, and neighborly love that +you read about next day in the newspapers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omnes</span> [<i>Workingman who has just +entered.</i>] [<i>Right.</i>] What's the matter +here? [<i>Elbows his way through the +crowd.</i>] Make way there! Let me +through! [<i>Throws off coat, tightens his +belt, spits in his hand and jumps into the +water.</i>] [<i>Great excitement.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>center</i>]. [<i>Ecstatically.</i>] +A hero! A hero!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>loudly but indifferently</i>]. +I'll bet sixty dollars that both of them +drown!—Seventy! Seventy-five! [<i>Contemptuously.</i>] +I can't get a bet around +here. I'm going back to America.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Artist goes into the crowd.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte</span> [<i>at table Left, alone with +American</i>]. Going back so soon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> As soon as I have seen +Paris. Wouldn't you like to show me the +town? I'll meet you to-morrow at four +in front of the Opera House.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> I'll be there. I like Americans.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Mob</span> [<i>cheering</i>]. He's got him! +Hurrah! [<i>The pole is outstretched.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> I'd like to know how much +longer that waiter means to keep my dog +waiting for her order of liver. [<i>x to +table Right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>comes down to table, joyfully</i>]. +He is saved; thank God he is +saved. Weren't you sorry at all when +that poor wretch jumped into the river?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> Young man, is it my river?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Mob</span> [<i>cheering again</i>]. Hurrah! +[<i>Great excitement.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Workingman and the Beggar +are dragged dripping out of the +water. They help the Beggar to a +chair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workingman</span> [<i>center</i>]. [<i>Shaking himself.</i>] +That was no easy job.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Woman</span> [<i>left, center</i>]. Take care +what you are doing. You are wetting +my whole dress.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> [<i>Left.</i>] [<i>Whimpering.</i>] Oh!—Oh!—Oh!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>left</i>]. [<i>Shaking the +Workingman's hand.</i>] You are a noble +fellow. I saw how brave you were.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workingman</span> [<i>business like</i>]. Did +you? Then give me your name and address.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>gives him a card</i>]. Jules +Leboeof, Rue d'Hauteville.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workingman.</span> Who else saw it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> Oh! Oh! Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workingman.</span> Shut your mouth. +Your turn comes next. Who else saw me +save him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> [<i>R. C.</i>] Aristide Beaurepard, +Rue de Lagny, a14.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> Must you mix in everything? +This is nothing to you. Do you +want to get in trouble? You didn't see +a thing. Why you just want to get in +trouble? You didn't see a thing. Why +you just this moment came. What do +you want the address for, eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workingman.</span> Do you think I am +taking cold baths for my health? I want +to get a medal for life saving.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Man.</span> You have a chance to get an +award from the Carnegie fund for life +saving.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workingman.</span> Don't I know it. I +read all about it in "Humanitie" yesterday. +Do you think I'd have jumped in +the water otherwise?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A crowd has collected around the +Beggar.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> O God! O God! I'm soaking +wet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>cold bloodedly.</i>] Isn't that +surprising?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> I am freezing. I am freezing +to death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> Waiter, bring him a glass +of brandy and charge it to me. [<i>Waiter +exit Right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Child</span> [<i>whimpering</i>]. I am freezing +too, Mama, I'm cold.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman.</span> My poor little Phillip. +[<i>To her husband.</i>] You never think of +bringing a coat for the child. There, my +darling, you shall have a cup of hot coffee +right away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Child.</span> Coffee is pfui. I want +brandy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman</span> [<i>sternly</i>]. Brandy is not +for children. You'll drink coffee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman.</span> Who says brandy is +not for children? You get the most foolish +ideas in your head. Hush, hush, my +baby, you shall have some brandy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> They ought to offer a +medal for the murder of certain kinds of +wives.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> Oh! [<i>Whimpering.</i>] Oh, +what a life I lead! What a life!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Man</span> [<i>feeding sugar to the dog</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> I wish I were dead. Why +did they pull me out? I want to die. +What does life mean to me? What joy +is there in life for me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Artist.</span> There will be less joy for you +in death. [<i>Laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> If I were only young. If I +only had my two strong arms again. I +never dreamed I would come to this. I +never would have believed it—Forty +years ago I was a workingman, yes, +forty years until an accident—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workingman.</span> Were you a Union +man, brother?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> Certainly—certainly. +[<i>Guardedly.</i>] That is, I wasn't exactly +a Union man but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workingman.</span> What! Not a Union +man. [<i>Rushes at him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townsman.</span> What do you want to do +to that poor man?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workingman.</span> Throw him back in the +river. [<i>He is held back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> Forty years I worked at the +machine—and now I have nothing to +show for it but diseased lungs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Townswoman</span> [<i>decisively</i>]. Aristide, +we are going home. Tuberculosis is contagious.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workingman.</span> That's capital for you. +The capitalist sucks the workingman dry +and then turns him out on the streets to +starve. But we, the people, shall have +our day. When first the uprising of the +masses—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> Oh, don't make a speech.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>whining</i>]. And my military +medal is gone. I must have lost it in the +water. You can still see the saber +wound on my arm.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man.</span> Thus the Fatherland repays +its valiant sons.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> Nobody knows what I suffered +for France. Twenty years I served in +the foreign legion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> This fellow ought to be +celebrating his two hundredth birthday +soon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> O God—my poor wife—my +poor children—the youngest is just +four months old—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> Poor soul, here are two +francs for you. [<i>Other people take out +their purses.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> God bless you mademoiselle. +[<i>Holds out his hat for the other alms.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>During the excitement the Beggar +passes through the crowd begging +and singing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +The rich man in his banquet hall,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has everything I long for.</span><br /> +The poor man gets the crumbs that fall,<br /> +That's what I sing this song for.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Help a poor man, sir.</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>cries out in sudden +alarm.</i>] My dog! My Molly! She has +jumped into the river! [<i>The crowd is +still and listening to him.</i>] She will +drown! [<i>Runs to the edge of the dock.</i>] +There she is—swimming. Oh, my +Molly! She cost me eighty dollars. +[<i>Desperately.</i>] A hundred dollars to the +man that saves my dog. A hundred dollars.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Man.</span> Do you mean that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>deaf to everything but his +anxiety</i>]. A hundred dollars. Here, I'll +put it up with the Waiter—a hundred +dollars for my poor dog.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices in the Crowd.</span> A hundred +dollars! Five hundred francs!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Crowd moves, pushing and gesticulating +to the water's edge. +One by one they jump into the +Seine with a great splashing. +Only the American, the Young +Man, the Cocotte and the Beggar +remain.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> My poor Molly! She +loved me like a son! Where is that pole? +[<i>Gets pole and thrusts with it in the +water.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice.</span> Hey! Oh! My head!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>beside himself</i>]. There—over +there—the poor dog never had a +swimming lesson. [<i>Sees the Young +Man.</i>] What are you standing there +for? You with your precious neighborly +love! A hundred and fifty dollars for +my dog! Jump in! Here is a deposit. +[<i>Pushes money in his hand.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>makes ready to jump, +but stops at the edge and turns around</i>]. +No! For a dog? Never!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American.</span> It was a thoroughbred +dog. Jump! I'll give you two hundred—I'll +take you back to the U. S. A. with +me—I'll pay for your musical education—anything—if +you save my dog.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man.</span> Will you really pay for +my musical education if I save your dog?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>on knees by wall</i>]. Every +instrument there is—piano, piccolo, +cornet, bass drum—only jump!—jump!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young Man</span> [<i>upon wall throws a farewell +kiss to the Cocotte, takes a heroic +posture</i>]. With God! [<i>Makes a perfect +dive into the river.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">American</span> [<i>at the end of the dock, +brokenly</i>]. Poor Molly! [<i>Dries his eyes +with handkerchief.</i>] I'll endow a home +for poor Parisians if she is brought back +to me alive. [<i>To the Cocotte.</i>] Oh, dear +lady, I don't know whether I shall be +able to meet you to-morrow at the Avenue +de l'Opera. I have had a bereavement. +[<i>Comes down to the pavement.</i>] +I must telephone to the lifeguard station. +[<i>Exits into the café.</i>] Poor Molly! All +the insurance I carried on her is three +thousand dollars. [<i>Exit with Artist into +café, Right.</i>] [<i>There is a brief pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Damn his heart; +the dog tender! I hope he drowns himself. +Just as I was doing the best business +in weeks that damn dog had to +spoil everything. The scabby beast.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> How often have I asked you +not to use those vulgar expressions.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> What! Is that how a daughter +should speak to her father? You +shameless wench! I'll teach you. I'll be +lame again hereafter. For when I am +lame I carry a stick and a stick is a +good thing to have in your hand to teach +a daughter respect. Ten francs; you +know for the picture. [<i>While he speaks +he is taking off his coat and vest, showing +a cork life belt beneath.</i>] That suicide +trick is getting played out anyhow—hardly +50 francs—and I had to pay +20 for the place. Come my daughter, +we will go home. [<i>Calls.</i>] Waiter—Waiter!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cocotte.</span> He doesn't hear you, papa—Waiter +if you don't come at once we +shall go without paying. [<i>The Waiter +enters with hat wet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>slips him a gold piece</i>]. +Waiter, call a taxicab.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Waiter takes the coin with a +respectful bow, blows his taxi +whistle. As the answering whistle +of the taxicab and the honk of the +horn are heard the Beggar and +Cocotte exit ceremoniously and the +curtain falls.</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="TENOR" id="TENOR"></a>THE TENOR</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Frank Wedekind</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Translated by André Tridon.</span></small></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1913, by André Tridon.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + +<h4>CHARACTERS</h4> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>Wagnerian tenor, thirty-six years old</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Helen Marova</span> [<i>a beautiful dark-haired woman of twenty-five</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Professor Duhring</span> [<i>sixty, the typical "misunderstood genius"</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Miss Isabel Cœhurne</span> [<i>a blonde English girl of sixteen</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Muller</span> [<i>hotel manager</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Valet.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">A Bell Boy.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">An Unknown Woman.</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>The present</i>.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Place</span>: <i>A city in Austria</i>.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">The Tenor</span> was first produced in America by the Washington Square Players. +Applications for permission to perform <span class="smcap">The Tenor</span> must be addressed to André +Tridon, 121 Madison Avenue, New York.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE TENOR</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Frank Wedekind</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene</span>: <i>A large hotel room. There +are doors at the right and in the center, +and at the left a window with heavy +portières. Behind a grand piano at the +right stands a Japanese screen which +conceals the fireplace. There are several +large trunks, open; bunches of flowers +are all over the room; many bouquets +are piled up on the piano.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet</span> [<i>entering from the adjoining +room carrying an armful of clothes which +he proceeds to pack in one of the trunks. +There is a knock at the door</i>]. Come in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bell Boy.</span> There is a lady who wants +to know if the Maestro is in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> He isn't in. [<i>Exit Bell Boy. +The Valet goes into the adjoining room +and returns with another armful of +clothes. There is another knock at the +door. He puts the clothes on a chair +and goes to the door.</i>] What's this +again? [<i>He opens the door and some +one hands him several large bunches of +flowers, which he places carefully on the +piano; then he goes back to his packing. +There is another knock. He opens the +door and takes a handful of letters. He +glances at the addresses and reads +aloud:</i> "Mister Gerardo. Monsieur +Gerardo. Gerardo Esquire. Signor +Gerardo." [<i>He drops the letters on a +tray and resumes his packing.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Gerardo.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Haven't you finished packing +yet? How much longer will it take +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> I'll be through in a minute, +sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Hurry! I still have things +to do. Let me see. [<i>He reaches for +something in a trunk.</i>] God Almighty! +Don't you know how to fold a pair of +trousers? [<i>Taking the trousers out.</i>] +This is what you call packing! Look +here! You still have something to learn +from me, after all. You take the trousers +like this.... You lock this up here.... +Then you take hold of these buttons. +Watch these buttons here, that's the important +thing. Then—you pull them +straight.... There.... There.... Then +you fold them here.... See.... Now +these trousers would keep their shape for +a hundred years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet</span> [<i>respectfully, with downcast +eyes</i>]. You must have been a tailor +once, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> What! Well, not exactly.... +[<i>He gives the trousers to the Valet.</i>] +Pack those up, but be quick about it. +Now about that train. You are sure this +is the last one we can take?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> It is the only one that gets +you there in time, sir. The next train +does not reach Brussels until ten o'clock.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Well, then, we must catch +this one. I will just have time to go +over the second act. Unless I go over +that.... Now don't let anybody.... I +am out to everybody.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> All right, sir. There are some +letters for you, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I have seen them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> And flowers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Yes. all right. [<i>He takes +the letters from the tray and throws +them on a chair before the piano. Then +he opens the letters, glances over them +with beaming eyes, crumples them up +and throws them under the chair.</i>] Remember! +I am out to everybody.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> I know, sir. [<i>He locks the +trunks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> To everybody.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> You needn't worry, sir. [<i>Giving +him the trunk keys.</i>] Here are the +keys, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>pocketing the keys</i>]. To +everybody!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> The trunks will be taken down +at once. [<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>looking at his watch</i>]. Forty +minutes. [<i>He pulls the score of "Tristan" +from underneath the flowers on the +piano and walks up and down humming.</i>] +<i>"Isolde! Geliebte! Bist du +mein? Hab' ich dich wieder? Darf ich +dich fassen?"</i> [<i>He clears his throat, +strikes a chord on the piano and starts +again.</i>] <i>"Isolde! Geliebte! Bist du +mein? Hab' ich dich wieder?..."</i> [<i>He +clears his throat.</i>] The air is dead here. +[<i>He sings.</i>] <i>"Isolde! Geliebte...."</i> It's +oppressive here. Let's have a little fresh +air. [<i>He goes to the window at the left +and fumbles for the curtain cord.</i>] +Where is the thing? On the other side! +Here! [<i>He pulls the cord and throws +his head back with an annoyed expression +when he sees Miss Cœurne.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne</span> [<i>in three-quarter length +skirt, her blonde hair down her back, +holding a bunch of red roses; she speaks +with an English accent and looks straight +at Gerardo</i>]. Oh, please don't send me +away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> What else can I do? God +knows, I haven't asked you to come here. +Do not take it badly, dear young lady, +but I have to sing to-morrow night in +Brussels. I must confess, I hoped I +would have this half-hour to myself. I +had just given positive orders not to let +any one, whoever it might be, come up to +my rooms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne</span> [<i>coming down stage</i>]. +Don't send me away. I heard you yesterday +in "Tannhäuser," and I was just +bringing you these roses, and—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> And—and what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> And myself.... I don't +know whether you understand me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>holding the back of a chair; +he hesitates, then shakes his head.</i>] Who +are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> My name is Miss +Cœurne.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Yes.... Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> I am very silly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I know. Come here, my +dear girl. [<i>He sits down in an armchair +and she stands before him.</i>] Let's have +a good earnest talk, such as you have +never had in your life—and seem to +need. An artist like myself—don't misunderstand +me; you are—how old are +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> Twenty-two.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> You are sixteen or perhaps +seventeen. You make yourself a +little older so as to appear more—tempting. +Well? Yes, you are very +silly. It is really none of my business, +as an artist, to cure you of your silliness.... +Don't take this badly.... Now +then! Why are you staring away like +this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> I said I was very silly, +because I thought you Germans liked +that in a young girl.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I am not a German, but +just the same....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> What! I am not as +silly as all that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Now look here, my dear girl—you +have your tennis court, your skating +club; you have your riding class, +your dances; you have all a young girl +can wish for. What on earth made you +come to me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> Because all those +things are awful, and they bore me to +death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I will not dispute that. +Personally, I must tell you, I know life +from an entirely different side. But, my +child, I am a man; I am thirty-six. The +time will come when you, too, will claim +a fuller existence. Wait another two +years and there will be some one for you, +and then you won't need to—hide yourself +behind curtains, in my room, in the +room of a man who—never asked you, +and whom you don't know any better +than—the whole continent of Europe +knows him—in order to look at life +from his—wonderful point of view. +[<i>Miss Cœurne sighs deeply.</i>] Now then ... +Many thanks from the bottom of +my heart for your roses. [<i>He presses +her hand.</i>] Will this do for to-day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> I had never in all my +life thought of a man, until I saw you +on the stage last night in "Tannhäuser." +And I promise you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Oh, don't promise me anything, +my child. What good could your +promise do me? The burden of it would +all fall upon you. You see, I am talking +to you as lovingly as the most loving +father could. Be thankful to God that +with your recklessness you haven't fallen +into the hands of another artist. [<i>He +presses her hand again.</i>] Let this be a +lesson to you and never try it again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne</span> [<i>holding her handkerchief +to her face but shedding no tears</i>]. +Am I so homely?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Homely! Not homely, but +young and indiscreet. [<i>He rises nervously, +goes to the right, comes back, puts +his arm around her waist and takes her +hand.</i>] Listen to me, child. You are +not homely because I have to be a singer, +because I have to be an artist. Don't +misunderstand me, but I can't see why +I should simply, because I am an artist, +have to assure you that I appreciate +your youthful freshness and beauty. It +is a question of time. Two hundred, +maybe three hundred, nice, lovely girls +of your age saw me last night in the rôle +of Tannhäuser. Now if every one of +those girls made the same demands upon +me which you are making—what would +become of my singing? What would become +of my voice? What would become +of my art?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Miss Cœurne sinks into a seat, covers +her face and weeps.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>leaning over the back of her +chair, in a friendly tone</i>]. It is a crime +for you, child, to weep over the fact that +you are still so young. Your whole life +is ahead of you. Is it my fault if you +fell in love with me? They all do. +That is what I am for. Now won't you +be a good girl and let me, for the few +minutes I have left, prepare myself for +to-morrow's appearance?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne</span> [<i>rising and drying her +tears</i>]. I can't believe that any other +girl would have acted the way I have.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>leading her to the door</i>]. +No, dear child.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne</span> [<i>with sobs in her voice</i>]. +At least, not if—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> If my valet had stood before +the door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> If—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> If the girl had been as beautiful +and youthfully fresh as you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> If—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> If she had heard me only +once in "Tannhäuser."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne</span> [<i>indignant</i>]. If she were +as respectable as I am!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>pointing to the piano</i>]. Before +saying good-by to me, child, have a +look at all those flowers. May this be a +warning to you in case you feel tempted +again to fall in love with a singer. See +how fresh they all are. And I have to +let them wither, dry up, or I give them +to the porter. And look at those letters. +[<i>He takes a handful of them from a +tray.</i>] I don't know any of those women. +Don't worry; I leave them all to their +fate. What else could I do? But I'll +wager with you that every one of your +lovely young friends sent in her little +note.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> Well, I promise not +to do it again, not to hide myself behind +your curtains. But don't send me +away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> My time, my time, dear +child. If I were not on the point of +taking a train! I have already told you, +I am very sorry for you. But my train +leaves in twenty-five minutes. What do +you expect?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> A kiss.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>stiffening up</i>]. From me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>holding her around the waist +and looking very serious</i>]. You rob Art +of its dignity, my child. I do not wish +to appear an unfeeling brute, and I am +going to give you my picture. Give me +your word that after that you will leave +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Good. [<i>He sits at the table +and autographs one of his pictures.</i>] +You should try to become interested in +the operas themselves instead of the men +who sing them. You would probably derive +much greater enjoyment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne</span> [<i>to herself</i>]. I am too +young yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Sacrifice yourself to music. +[<i>He comes down stage and gives her the +picture.</i>] Don't see in me a famous +tenor but a mere tool in the hands of +a noble master. Look at all the married +women among your acquaintances. All +Wagnerians. Study Wagner's works; +learn to understand his <i>leit motifs</i>. That +will save you from further foolishness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Cœurne.</span> I thank you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Gerardo leads her out and rings +the bell. He takes up his piano +score again. There is a knock at +the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet</span> [<i>coming in out of breath</i>]. Yes, +sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Are you standing at the +door?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> Not just now, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Of course not! Be sure not +to let anybody come up here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> There were three ladies who +asked for you, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Don't you dare to let any +one of them come up, whatever she may +tell you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> And then here are some more +letters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Oh, all right. [<i>The Valet +places the letters on a tray.</i>] And don't +you dare to let any one come up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet</span> [<i>at the door</i>]. No, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Even if she offers to settle a +fortune upon you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet.</span> No, sir. [<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>singing</i>]. "<i>Isolde! Geliebte! +Bist du....</i>" Well, if women don't get +tired of me—Only the world is so full +of them; and I am only one man. +Every one has his burden to carry. [<i>He +strikes a chord on the piano.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Prof. Duhring, dressed all in black, +with a long white beard, a red +hooked nose, gold spectacles, +Prince Albert coat and silk hat, an +opera score under his arm, enters +without knocking.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> What do you want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> Maestro—I—I—have—an +opera.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> How did you get in?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> I have been watching for +two hours for a chance to run up the +stairs unnoticed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> But, my dear good man, I +have no time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> Oh, I will not play the +whole opera for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I haven't the time. My train +leaves in forty minutes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> You haven't the time! +What should I say? You are thirty and +successful. You have your whole life to +live yet. Just listen to your part in my +opera. You promised to listen to it +when you came to this city.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> What is the use? I am not +a free agent—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> Please! Please! Please! +Maestro! I stand before you an old +man, ready to fall on my knees before +you; an old man who has never cared +for anything in the world but his art. +For fifty years I have been a willing +victim to the tyranny of art—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>interrupting him</i>]. Yes, I +understand; I understand, but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. No, you don't +understand. You could not understand. +How could you, the favorite of fortune, +you understand what fifty years of bootless +work means? But I will try to make +you understand it. You see, I am too +old to take my own life. People who do +that do it at twenty-five, and I let the +time pass by. I must now drag along to +the end of my days. Please, sir, please +don't let these moments pass in vain for +me, even if you have to lose a day +thereby, a week even. This is in your +own interest. A week ago, when you +first came for your special appearances, +you promised to let me play my opera +for you. I have come here every day +since; either you had a rehearsal or a +woman caller. And now you are on the +point of going away. You have only to +say one word: I will sing the part of +Hermann—and they will produce my +opera. You will then thank God for my +insistance.... Of course you sing Siegfried, +you sing Florestan—but you have +no rôle like Hermann in your repertoire, +no rôle better suited to your middle register.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Gerardo leans against the mantelpiece; +while drumming on the top +with his right hand, he discovers +something behind the screen; he +suddenly stretches out his arm and +pulls out a woman in a gray gown, +whom he leads out of the room +through the middle door; after +closing the door, he turns to Duhring.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Oh, are you still there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring</span> [<i>undisturbed</i>]. This opera +is good; it is dramatic; it is a financial +success. I can show you letters from +Liszt, from Wagner, from Rubinstein, +in which they consider me as a superior +man. And why hasn't any opera ever +been produced? Because I am not crying +wares on the market-place. And then +you know our directors: they will revive +ten dead men before they give a live man +a chance. Their walls are well guarded. +At thirty you are in. At sixty I am still +out. One word from you and I shall be +in, too. This is why I have come, and +[<i>raising his voice</i>] if you are not an unfeeling +brute, if success has not killed in +you the last spark of artistic sympathy, +you will not refuse to hear my work.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I will give you an answer +in a week. I will go over your opera. +Let me have it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> No, I am too old, Maestro. +In a week, in what you call a week, I +shall be dead and buried. In a week—that +is what they all say; and then they +keep it for years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I am very sorry but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> To-morrow perhaps you +will be on your knees before me; you +will boast of knowing me ... and to-day, +in your sordid lust for gold, you +cannot even spare the half-hour which +would mean the breaking of my fetters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> No, really, I have only thirty-five +minutes left, and unless I go over +a few passages.... You know I sing +Tristan in Brussels to-morrow night. +[<i>He pulls out his watch.</i>] I haven't +even half an hour....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> Half an hour.... Oh, +then, let me play to you your big aria at +the end of the first act. [<i>He attempts +to sit down on the piano bench. Gerardo +restrains him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Now, frankly, my dear sir +... I am a singer; I am not a critic. +If you wish to have your opera produced, +address yourself to those gentlemen +who are paid to know what is good +and what is not. People scorn and ignore +my opinions in such matters as +completely as they appreciate and admire +my singing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> My dear Maestro, you may +take it from me that I myself attach no +importance whatever to your judgment. +What do I care about your opinions? I +know you tenors; I would like to play +my score for you so that you could say: +"I would like to sing the rôle of Hermann."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> If you only knew how many +things I would like to do and which I +have to renounce, and how many things +I must do for which I do not care in the +least! Half a million a year does not +repay me for the many joys of life which +I must sacrifice for the sake of my profession. +I am not a free man. But you +were a free man all your life. Why +didn't you go to the market-place and +cry your wares?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> Oh, the vulgarity of it.... +I have tried it a hundred times. I am a +composer, Maestro, and nothing more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> By which you mean that you +have exhausted all your strength in the +writing of your operas and kept none +of it to secure their production.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> That is true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> The composers I know reverse +the process. They get their operas +written somehow and then spend all their +strength in an effort to get them produced.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> That is the type of artist I +despise.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Well, I despise the type of +man that wastes his life in useless endeavor. +What have you done in those +fifty years of struggle, for yourself or +for the world? Fifty years of useless +struggle! That should convince the worst +blockhead of the impracticability of his +dreams. What have you done with your +life? You have wasted it shamefully. +If I had wasted my life as you have +wasted yours—of course I am only +speaking for myself—I don't think I +should have the courage to look any one +in the face.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> I am not doing it for myself; +I am doing it for my art.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>scornfully</i>]. Art, my dear +man! Let me tell you that art is quite +different from what the papers tell us +it is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span> To me it is the highest +thing in the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> You may believe that, but +nobody else does. We artists are merely +a luxury for the use of the <i>bourgeoisie</i>. +When I stand there on the stage I feel +absolutely certain that not one solitary +human being in the audience takes the +slightest interest in what we, the artists, +are doing. If they did, how could they +listen to "Die Walküre," for instance? +Why, it is an indecent story which could +not be mentioned anywhere in polite society. +And yet, when I sing Siegmund, +the most puritanical mothers bring their +fourteen-year-old daughters to hear me. +This, you see, is the meaning of whatever +you call art. This is what you have sacrificed +fifty years of your life to. Find +out how many people came to hear me +sing and how many came to gape at me +as they would at the Emperor of China +if he should turn up here to-morrow. +Do you know what the artistic wants of +the public consist in? To applaud, to +send flowers, to have a subject for conversation, +to see and be seen. They pay +me half a million, but then I make business +for hundreds of cabbies, writers, +dressmakers, restaurant keepers. It +keeps money circulating; it keeps blood +running. It gets girls engaged, spinsters +married, wives tempted, old cronies supplied +with gossip; a woman loses her +pocketbook in the crowd, a fellow becomes +insane during the performance. +Doctors, lawyers made.... [<i>He coughs.</i>] +And with this I must sing Tristan in +Brussels to-morrow night! I tell you all +this, not out of vanity, but to cure you +of your delusions. The measure of a +man's worth is the world's opinion of +him, not the inner belief which one finally +adopts after brooding over it for years. +Don't imagine that you are a misunderstood +genius. There are no misunderstood +geniuses.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring.</span>. Let me just play to you the +first scene of th second act. A park +landscape as in the painting, "Embarkation +for the Isle of Cythera."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I repeat to you I have no +time. And furthermore, since Wagner's +death the need for new operas has never +been felt by any one. If you come with +new music, you set against yourself all +the music schools, the artists, the public. +If you want to succeed just steal enough +out of Wagner's works to make up a +whole opera. Why should I cudgel my +brains with your new music when I +have cudgeled them cruelly with the +old?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring</span> [<i>holding out his trembling +hand</i>]. I am afraid I am too old to learn +how to steal. Unless one begins very +young, one can never learn it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Don't feel hurt. My dear +sir—if I could.... The thought of how +you have to struggle.... I happen to +have received some five hundred marks +more than my fee....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Duhring</span> [<i>turning to the door</i>]. Don't! +Please don't! Do not say that. I did +not try to show you my opera in order +to work a touch. No, I think too much +of this child of my brain.... No, Maestro.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes out through the center +door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>following him to the door</i>]. +I beg your pardon.... Pleased to have +met you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He closes the door and sinks into an +armchair. A voice is heard outside: +"I will not let that man step +in my way." Helen rushes into +the room followed by the Valet. +She is an unusually beautiful +young woman in street dress.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> That man stood there to prevent +me from seeing you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> You knew that I would come +to see you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valet</span> [<i>rubbing his cheek</i>]. I did all +I could, sir, but this lady actually—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Yes, I slapped his face.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Should I have let him insult +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>to the Valet</i>]. Please leave +us.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Valet goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> [<i>placing her muff on a chair</i>]. +I can no longer live without you. Either +you take me with you or I will kill myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Yes, kill myself. A day like +yesterday, without even seeing you—no, +I could not live through that again. I +am not strong enough. I beseech you, +Oscar, take me with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I couldn't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> You could if you wanted to. +You can't leave me without killing me. +These are not mere words. This isn't a +threat. It is a fact: I will die if I can +no longer have you. You must take me +with you—it is your duty—if only for +a short time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I give you my word of +honor, Helen, I can't—I give you my +word.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> You must, Oscar. Whether +you can or not, you must bear the consequences +of your acts. I love life, but +to me life and you are one and the same +thing. Take me with you, Oscar, if you +don't want to have my blood on your +hands.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Do you remember what I +said to you the first day we were together +here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> I remember, but what good +does that do me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I said that there couldn't be +any question of love between us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> I can't help that. I didn't +know you then. I never knew what a +man could be to me until I met you. +You know very well that it would come +to this, otherwise you wouldn't have +obliged me to promise not to make you +a parting scene.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I simply cannot take you +with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Oh, God! I knew you would +say that! I knew it when I came here. +That's what you say to every woman. +And I am just one of a hundred. I +know it. But, Oscar, I am lovesick; I +am dying of love. This is your work, +and you can save me without any sacrifice +on your part, without assuming any +burden. Why can't you do it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>very slowly</i>]. Because my +contract forbids me to marry or to travel +in the company of a woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> [<i>disturbed</i>]. What can prevent +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> My contract.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> You cannot....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I cannot marry until my +contract expires.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> And you cannot....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I cannot travel in the company +of a woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> That is incredible. And +whom in the world should it concern?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> My manager.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Your manager! What business +is it of his?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> It is precisely his business.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Is it perhaps because it might—affect +your voice?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> That is preposterous. Does +it affect your voice?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Gerardo chuckles.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Does your manager believe +that nonsense?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> No, he doesn't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> This is beyond me. I can't +understand how a decent man could sign +such a contract.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I am an artist first and a +man next.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Yes, that's what you are—a +great artist—an eminent artist. Can't +you understand how much I must love +you? You are the first man whose superiority +I have felt and whom I desired +to please, and you despise me for it. I +have bitten my lips many a time not to +let you suspect how much you meant to +me; I was so afraid I might bore you. +Yesterday, however, put me in a state of +mind which no woman can endure. If I +didn't love you so insanely, Oscar, you +would think more of me. That is the +terrible thing about you—that you must +scorn a woman who thinks the world of +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Your contract! Don't use +your contract as a weapon to murder me +with. Let me go with you, Oscar. You +will see if your manager ever mentions +a breach of contract. He would not do +such a thing. I know men. And if he +says a word, it will be time then for me +to die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> We have no right to do that, +Helen. You are just as little free to follow +me, as I am to shoulder such a responsibility. +I don't belong to myself; I +belong to my art.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Oh, leave your art alone. +What do I care about your art? Has +God created a man like you to make a +puppet of himself every night? You +should be ashamed of it instead of boasting +of it. You see, I overlooked the fact +that you were merely an artist. What +wouldn't I overlook for a god like you? +Even if you were a convict, Oscar, my +feelings would be the same. I would lie +in the dust at your feet and beg for your +pity. I would face death as I am facing +it now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. Facing death, +Helen! Women who are endowed with +your gifts for enjoying life don't make +away with themselves. You know even +better than I do the value of life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> [<i>dreamily</i>]. Oscar, I didn't +say that I would shoot myself. When +did I say that? Where would I find the +courage to do that? I only said that I +will die, if you don't take me with you. +I will die as I would of an illness, for I +only live when I am with you. I can live +without my home, without my children, +but not without you, Oscar. I cannot +live without you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen, if you don't calm +yourself.... You put me in an awful +position.... I have only ten minutes +left.... I can't explain in court that +your excitement made me break my contract.... +I can only give you ten minutes.... If +you don't calm yourself in +that time.... I can't leave you alone in +this condition. Think all you have at +stake!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> As though I had anything +else at stake!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> You can lose your position +in society.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> I can lose you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> And your family?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> I care for no one but you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> But I cannot be yours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Then I have nothing to lose +but my life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Your children!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Who has taken me from them, +Oscar? Who has taken me from my children?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Did I make any advances to +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> [<i>passionately</i>]. No, no. I have +thrown myself at you, and would throw +myself at you again. Neither my husband +nor my children could keep me +back. When I die, at least I will have +lived; thanks to you, Oscar! I thank +you, Oscar, for revealing me to myself. +I thank you for that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen, calm yourself and +listen to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Yes, yes, for ten minutes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Listen to me. [<i>Both sit +down on the divan.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> [<i>staring at him</i>]. Yes, I thank +you for it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> I don't even ask you to love +me. Let me only breathe the air you +breathe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span>[<i>trying to be calm</i>]. Helen—a +man of my type cannot be swayed +by any of the bourgeois ideas. I have +known society women in every country +of the world. Some made parting scenes +to me, but at least they all knew what +they owed to their position. This is the +first time in my life that I have witnessed +such an outburst of passion.... Helen, +the temptation comes to me daily to step +with some woman into an idyllic Arcadia. +But every human being has his duties; +you have your duties as I have mine, +and the call of duty is the highest thing +in the world....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> I know better than you do +what the highest duty is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> What, then? Your love for +me? That's what they all say. Whatever +a woman has set her heart on winning +is to her good; whatever crosses her +plans is evil. It is the fault of our playwrights. +To draw full houses they set +the world upside down, and when a +woman abandons her children and her +family to follow her instincts they call +that—oh, broad-mindedness. I personally +wouldn't mind living the way turtle +doves live. But since I am a part of this +world I must obey my duty first. Then +whenever the opportunity arises I quaff +of the cup of joy. Whoever refuses to +do his duty has no right to make any demands +upon another fellow being.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> [<i>staring absent-mindedly</i>]. That +does not bring the dead back to life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. Helen, I will +give you back your life. I will give you +back what you have sacrificed for me. +For God's sake take it. What does it +come to, after all? Helen, how can a +woman lower herself to that point? +Where is your pride? What am I in the +eyes of the world? A man who makes a +puppet of himself every night! Helen, +are you going to kill yourself for a man +whom hundreds of women loved before +you, whom hundreds of women will love +after you without letting their feelings +disturb their life one second? Will you, +by shedding your warm red blood, make +yourself ridiculous before God and the +world?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> [<i>looking away from him</i>]. I +know I am asking a good deal, but—what +else can I do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen, you said I should +bear the consequences of my acts. Will +you reproach for not refusing to receive +you when you first came here, ostensibly +to ask me to try your voice? What can +a man do in such a case? You are the +beauty of this town. Either I would be +known as the bear among artists who +denies himself to all women callers, or I +might have received you and pretended +that I didn't understand what you meant +and then pass for a fool. Or the very +first day I might have talked to you as +frankly as I am talking now. Dangerous +business. You would have called me +a conceited idiot. Tell me, Helen—what +else could I do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> [<i>staring at him with, imploring +eyes, shuddering and making an effort +to speak</i>]. O God! O God! Oscar, +what would you say if to-morrow I +should go and be as happy with another +man as I have been with you? Oscar—what +would you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>after a silence</i>]. Nothing. +[<i>He looks at his watch.</i>] Helen—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Oscar! [<i>She kneels before +him.</i>] For the last time, I implore you.... +You don't know what you are doing.... +It isn't your fault—but don't let +me die.... Save me—save me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>raising her up</i>]. Helen, I +am not such a wonderful man. How +many men have you known? The more +men you come to know, the lower all men +will fall in your estimation. When you +know men better you will not take your +life for any one of them. You will not +think any more of them than I do of +women.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> I am not like you in that respect.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> I speak earnestly, Helen. +We don't fall in love with one person or +another; we fall in love with our type, +which we find everywhere in the world +if we only look sharply enough.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> And when we meet our type, +are we sure then of being loved again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. You have no right +to complain of your husband. Was any +girl ever compelled to marry against her +will? That is all rot. It is only the +women who have sold themselves for certain +material advantages and then try to +dodge their obligations who try to make +us believe that nonsense.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. They break their +contracts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>pounding his chest</i>]. When +I sell myself, at least I am honest about +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Isn't love honest?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> No! Love is a beastly +bourgeois virtue. Love is the last refuge +of the mollycoddle, of the coward. In +my world every man has his actual value, +and when two human beings make up a +pact they know exactly what to expect +from each other. Love has nothing to +do with it, either.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Won't you lead me into your +world, then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen, will you compromise +the happiness of your life and the happiness +of your dear ones for just a few +days' pleasure?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>much relieved</i>]. Will you +promise me to go home quietly now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> And will you promise me +that you will not die....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> You promise me that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> And you promise me to fulfill +your duties as mother and—as wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Yes. What else do you want? +I will promise anything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> And now may I go away in +peace?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> [<i>rising</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> A last kiss?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> Yes, yes, yes. [<i>They kiss +passionately.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> In a year I am booked again +to sing here, Helen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helen.</span> In a year! Oh, I am glad!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>tenderly</i>]. Helen!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Helen presses his hand, takes a revolver +out of her muff, shoots herself +and falls.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo.</span> Helen! [<i>He totters and collapses +in an armchair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bell Boy</span> [<i>rushing in</i>]. My God! +Mr. Gerardo! [<i>Gerardo remains motionless; +the Bell Boy rushes toward Helen.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>jumping up, running to the +door and colliding with the manager of +the hotel</i>]. Send for the police! I must +be arrested! If I went away now I +should be a brute, and if I stay I break +my contract. I still have [<i>looking at his +watch</i>] one minute and ten seconds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Manager.</span> Fred, run and get a policeman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bell Boy.</span> All right, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Manager.</span> Be quick about it. [<i>To +Gerardo.</i>] Don't take it too hard, sir. +Those things happen once in a while.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>kneeling before Helen's body +and taking her hand</i>]. Helen!... She +still lives—she still lives! If I am arrested +I am not wilfully breaking my +contract.... And my trunks? Is the +carriage at the door?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Manager.</span> It has been waiting twenty +minutes, Mr. Gerardo. [<i>He opens the +door for the porter, who takes down one +of the trunks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>bending over her</i>]. Helen! +[<i>To himself.</i>] Well, after all.... [<i>To +Muller.</i>] Have you called a doctor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Manager.</span> Yes, we had the doctor +called at once. He will be here at any +minute.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>holding her under the arms</i>]. +Helen! Don't you know me any more? Helen! The doctor will be here right +away, Helen. This is your Oscar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bell Boy</span> [<i>appearing in the door at +the center</i>]. Can't find any policeman, +sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerardo</span> [<i>letting Helen's body drop +back</i>]. Well, if I can't get arrested, that +settles it. I must catch that train and +sing in Brussels to-morrow night. [<i>He +takes up his score and runs out through +the center door, bumping against several +chairs.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_GOOD_WOMAN" id="A_GOOD_WOMAN"></a>A GOOD WOMAN</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Farce</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Arnold Bennett</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h4>CHARACTERS</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<span class="smcap">James Brett</span> [<i>a Clerk in the War Office, 33</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gerald O'Mara</span> [<i>a Civil Engineer, 24</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Rosamund Fife</span> [<i>a Spinster and a Lecturer on Cookery, 28</i>].<br /> +</p></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>Reprinted from "Polite Farces," published by George H. Doran Company, by +special arrangement with Mr. Arnold Bennett.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>A GOOD WOMAN</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Farce</p> +<p class="alignright">By Arnold Bennett</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene</span>: <i>Rosamund's Flat; the drawing-room. +The apartment is plainly furnished. +There is a screen in the corner +of the room furthest from the door. It +is 9 <span class="smcap">A. M.</span> Rosamund is seated alone at a +table. She wears a neat travelling-dress, +with a plain straw hat. Her gloves lie +on a chair. A small portable desk full +of papers is open before her. She gazes +straight in front of her, smiling vaguely. +With a start she recovers from her daydreams, +and rushing to the looking-glass, +inspects her features therein. Then she +looks at her watch.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Three hours yet! I'm a +fool [<i>with decision. She sits down again, +and idly picks up a paper out of the +desk. The door opens, unceremoniously +but quietly, and James enters. The two +stare at each other, James wearing a conciliatory +smile</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> You appalling creature!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> I couldn't help it, I simply +couldn't help it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Do you know this is the +very height and summit of indelicacy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> I was obliged to come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> If I had any relations—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Which you haven't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> I say <i>if</i> I had any relations—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> I say <i>which</i> you haven't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Never mind, it is a safe +rule for unattached women always to behave +as if they had relations, especially +female relations whether they have any +or not. My remark is, that if I had any +relations they would be absolutely scandalized +by this atrocious conduct of +yours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> What have I done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Can you ask? Here are +you, and here am I. We are to be married +to-day at twelve o'clock. The ceremony +has not taken place, and yet you +are found on my premises. You must +surely be aware that on the day of the +wedding the parties—yes, the "parties," +that is the word—should on no account +see each other till they see each other in +church.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> But since we are to be married +at a registry office, does the rule +apply?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Undoubtedly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Then I must apologize. My +excuse is that I am not up in these +minute details of circumspection; you see +I have been married so seldom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Evidently. [<i>A pause, during +which James at last ventures to approach +the middle of the room.</i>] Now +you must go back home, and we'll pretend +we haven't seen each other.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Never, Rosamund! That would +be acting a lie. And I couldn't dream +of getting married with a lie on my lips. +It would be so unusual. No; we have +sinned, or rather I have sinned, on this +occasion. I will continue to sin—openly, +brazenly. Come here, my dove. A bird +in the hand is worth two under a bushel. +[<i>He assumes an attitude of entreaty, and, +leaving her chair, Rosamund goes towards +him. They exchange an ardent kiss.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>quietly submissive</i>]. I'm +awfully busy, you know, Jim.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> I will assist you in your little +duties, dearest, and then I will accompany +you to the sacred ed—to the registry +office. Now, what were you doing? +[<i>She sits down, and he puts a chair for +himself close beside her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> You are singularly unlike +yourself this morning, dearest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Nervous tension, my angel. I +should have deemed it impossible that an +<i>employé</i> of the War Office could experience +the marvelous and exquisite sensations +now agitating my heart. But +tell me, what are you doing with these +papers?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Well, I was just going to +look through them and see if they contained +anything of a remarkable or valuable +nature. You see, I hadn't anything +to occupy myself with.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Was 'oo bored, waiting for +the timey-pimey to come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>hands caressing</i>]. 'Iss, +little pet was bored, she was. Was Mr. +Pet lonely this morning? Couldn't he +keep away from his little cooky-lecturer? +He should see his little cooky-lecturer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> And that reminds me, hadn't +we better lunch in the train instead of +at Willis's? That will give us more time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Horrid greedy piggywiggy! +Perhaps he will be satisfied if +Mrs. Pet agrees to lunch both at Willis's +and in the train?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Yes. Only piggywiggy doesn't +want to trespass on Mrs. Pet's good +nature. Let piggywiggy look at the papers. +[<i>He takes up a paper from the +desk.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>a little seriously</i>]. No, +Jimmy. I don't think we'll go through +them. Perhaps it wouldn't be wise. +Just let's destroy them. [<i>Takes papers +from his hand and drops them in desk.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James</span> [<i>sternly</i>]. When you have been +the wife of a War Office clerk for a week +you will know that papers ought never +to be destroyed. Now I come to think, +it is not only my right but my duty to +examine this secret <i>dossier</i>. Who knows—[<i>Takes +up at random another document, +which proves to be a postcard. +Reads.</i>] "Shall come to-morrow night. +Thine, Gerald."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>after a startled shriek of +consternation</i>]. There! There! You've +done it, first time! [<i>She begins to think, +with knitted brows.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Does this highly suspicious +postcard point to some—some episode +in your past of which you have deemed +it advisable to keep me in ignorance? If +so, I seek not to inquire. I forgive you—I +take you, Rosamund, as you are!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>reflective, not heeding his +remark</i>]. I had absolutely forgotten the +whole affair, absolutely. [<i>Smiles a little. +Aside.</i>] Suppose he should come! [<i>To +James.</i>] Jim, I think I had better tell +you all about Gerald. It will interest +you. Besides, there is no knowing what +may happen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> As I have said, I seek not to +inquire. [<i>Stiffly.</i>] Nor do I imagine +that this matter, probably some childish +entanglement, would interest me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Oh, wouldn't it! Jim, +don't be absurd. You know perfectly +well you are dying to hear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Very well, save my life, then, +at the least expense of words. To begin +with, who is this Gerald—"thine," thine +own Gerald?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Don't you remember Gerald +O'Mara? You met him at the +Stokes's, I feel sure. You know—the +young engineer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Oh! <i>That</i> ass!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> He isn't an ass. He's a +very clever boy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> For the sake of argument and +dispatch, agreed! Went out to Cyprus +or somewhere, didn't he, to build a bridge, +or make a dock, or dig a well, or something +of that kind?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>nodding</i>]. Now, listen, +I'll tell you all about it. [<i>Settles herself +for a long narration.</i>] Four years ago +poor, dear Gerald was madly in love with +me. He was twenty and I was twenty-four. +Keep calm—I felt like his aunt. +Don't forget I was awfully pretty in +those days. Well, he was so tremendously +in love that in order to keep him +from destroying himself—of course, I +knew he was going out to Cyprus—I +sort of pretended to be sympathetic. I +simply <i>had</i> to; Irishmen are so passionate. +And he was very nice. And I +barely knew you then. Well, the time +approached for him to leave for Cyprus, +and two days before the ship sailed he +sent me that very postcard that by pure +chance you picked up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> He should have written a letter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Oh! I expect he couldn't +wait. He was so impulsive. Well, on +the night before he left England he came +here and proposed to me. I remember +I was awfully tired and queer. I had +been giving a lecture in the afternoon on +"How to Pickle Pork," and the practical +demonstration had been rather smelly. +However, the proposal braced me up. It +was the first I had had—that year. +Well, I was so sorry for him that I +couldn't say "No" outright. It would +have been too brutal. He might have +killed himself on the spot, and spoilt this +carpet, which, by the way, was new then. +So I said, "Look here, Gerald—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> You called him "Gerald"?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> <i>Rather!</i> "Look here, Gerald," +I said; "you are going to Cyprus +for four years. If your feeling towards +me is what you think it is, come back +to me at the end of those four years, +and I will then give you an answer." Of +course I felt absolutely sure that in the +intervening period he would fall in and +out of love half a dozen times at least.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Of course, half a dozen times +at least; probably seven. What did he +say in reply?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> He agreed with all the +seriousness in the world. "On this day +four years hence," he said, standing just +there [<i>pointing</i>], "I will return for your +answer. And in the meantime I will live +only for you." That was what he said—his +very words.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> And a most touching speech, +too! And then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> We shook hands, and he +tore himself away, stifling a sob. Don't +forget, he was a boy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Have the four years expired?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> What is the date of that +postcard? Let me see it. [<i>Snatches it, +and smiles at the handwriting pensively.</i>] +July 4th—four years ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Then it's over. He's not coming. +To-day is July 5th.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> But yesterday was Sunday. +He wouldn't come on Sunday. He +was always very particular and nice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Do you mean to imply that +you think he will come to-day and demand +from you an affirmative? A moment +ago you gave me to understand that +in your opinion he would have—er—other +affairs to attend to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Yes. I did think so at +the time. But now—now I have a kind +of idea that he may come, that after all +he may have remained faithful. You +know I was maddeningly pretty then, +and he had my photograph.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Tell me, have you corresponded?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> No, I expressly forbade +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> But still, I have a premonition +he may come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James</span> [<i>assuming a pugnacious pose</i>]. +If he does, I will attend to him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Gerald was a terrible +fighter. [<i>A resounding knock is heard +at the door. Both start violently, and +look at each other in silence. Rosamund +goes to the door and opens it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>with an unsteady laugh of +relief</i>]. Only the postman with a letter. +[<i>She returns to her seat.</i>] No, I don't +expect he will come, really. [<i>Puts letter +idly on table. Another knock still louder. +Renewed start.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Now that <i>is</i> he, I'm positive. +He always knocked like that. Just +fancy. After four years! Jim, just take +the chair behind that screen for a bit. I +<i>must</i> hide you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> No, thanks! The screen dodge +is a trifle <i>too</i> frayed at the edges.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Only for a minute. It +would be <i>such</i> fun.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> No, thanks. [<i>Another knock.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>with forced sweetness</i>]. +Oh, very well, then....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Oh, well, of course, if you +take it in that way—[<i>He proceeds to a +chair behind screen, which does not, however, +hide him from the audience.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>smiles his reward</i>]. I'll +explain it all right. [<i>Loudly.</i>] Come +in! [<i>Enter Gerald O'Mara.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> So you are in! [<i>Hastens +across room to shake hands.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Oh, yes, I am in. Gerald, +how are you? I must say you look tolerably +well. [<i>They sit down.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Oh, I'm pretty fit, thanks. +Had the most amazing time in spite of +the climate. And you? Rosie, you +haven't changed a little bit. How's the +cookery trade getting along? Are you +still showing people how to concoct +French dinners out of old bones and a +sardine tin?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Certainly. Only I can do +it without the bones now. You see, the +science has progressed while you've been +stagnating in Cyprus.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Stagnating is the word. You +wouldn't believe that climate!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> What! Not had nice +weather? What a shame! I thought it +was tremendously sunshiny in Cyprus.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Yes, that's just what it is, 97° +in the shade when it doesn't happen to +be pouring with malarial rain. We +started a little golf club at Nicosia, and +laid out a nine-hole course. But the balls +used to melt. So we had to alter the +rules, keep the balls in an ice-box, and +take a fresh one at every hole. Think +of that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> My poor boy! But I suppose +there were compensations? You referred +to "an amazing time."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Yes, there were compensations. +And that reminds me, I want you +to come out and lunch with me at the +Savoy. I've got something awfully important +to ask you. In fact, that's what +I've come for.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Sorry I can't, Gerald. +The fact is, I've got something awfully +important myself just about lunch +time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Oh, yours can wait. Look +here, I've ordered the lunch. I made +sure you'd come. [<i>Rosamund shakes her +head.</i>] Why can't you? It's not cooking, +is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Only a goose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> What goose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Well—my own, and somebody +else's. Listen, Gerald. Had you +not better ask me this awfully important +question now? No time like the present.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> I can always talk easier, especially +on delicate topics, with a pint of +something handy. But if you positively +won't come, I'll get it off my chest now. +The fact is, Rosie, I'm in love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> With whom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Ah! That's just what I want +you to tell me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>suddenly starting</i>]. Gerald! +what is that dreadful thing sticking +out of your pocket, and pointing right at +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> That? That's my revolver. +Always carry them in Cyprus, you know. +Plenty of sport there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>breathing again</i>]. Kindly +take it out of your pocket and put it on +the table. Then if it does go off it +will go off into something less valuable +than a cookery-lecturer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald</span> [<i>laughingly obeying her</i>]. +There. If anything happens it will happen +to the screen. Now, Rosie, I'm in +love, and I desire that you should tell +me whom I'm in love with. There's a +magnificent girl in Cyprus, daughter of +the Superintendent of Police—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Evelyn. Age nineteen. I +tell you I was absolutely gone on her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Symptoms?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Well—er—whenever her +name was mentioned I blushed terrifically. +Of course, that was only one symptom.... +Then I met a girl on the home +steamer—no father or mother. An orphan, +you know, awfully interesting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Madge. Nice name, isn't it? +[<i>Rosamund nods.</i>] I don't mind telling +you, I was considerably struck by her—still +am, in fact.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Symptoms?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Oh!... Let me see, I never +think of her without turning absolutely +pale. I suppose it's what they call "pale +with passion." Notice it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>somewhat coldly</i>]. It +seems to me the situation amounts to +this. There are two girls. One is named +Evelyn, and the thought of her makes +you blush. The other is named Madge, +and the thought of her makes you turn +pale. You fancy yourself in love, and +you wish me to decide for you whether it +is Madge or Evelyn who agitates your +breast the more deeply.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> That's not exactly the way to +put it, Rosie. You take a fellow up too +soon. Of course I must tell you lots +more yet. You should hear Evelyn play +the "Moonlight Sonata." It's the most +marvelous thing.... And then Madge's +eyes! The way that girl can look at a +fellow.... I'm telling you all these +things, you know, Rosie, because I've always +looked up to you as an elder sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>after a pause, during +which she gazes into his face</i>]. I suppose +it was in my character of your elder sister, +that you put a certain question to +me four years ago last night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald</span> [<i>staggered; pulls himself together +for a great resolve; after a long +pause</i>]. Rosie! I never thought afterwards +you'd take it seriously. I forgot +it all. I was only a boy then. [<i>Speaking +quicker and quicker.</i>] But I see +clearly now. I never <i>could</i> withstand +you. It's all rot about Evelyn and +Madge. It's you I'm in love with; and +I never guessed it! Rosie!... [<i>Rushes +to her and impetuously flings his arms +around her neck.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James</span> [<i>who, during the foregoing +scene, has been full of uneasy gestures; +leaping with incredible swiftness from +the shelter of the screen</i>]. Sir!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>pushing Gerald quickly +away</i>]. Gerald!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> May I inquire, sir, what is the +precise significance of this attitudinising? +[<i>Gerald has scarcely yet abandoned +his amorous pose, but now does so +quickly</i>]. Are we in the middle of a +scene from "Romeo and Juliet," or is +this 9:30 <span class="smcap">A. M.</span> in the nineteenth century? +If Miss Fife had played the "Moonlight +Sonata" to you, or looked at you as +Madge does, there might perhaps have +been some shadow of an excuse for your +extraordinary and infamous conduct. +But since she has performed neither of +these feats of skill, I fail to grasp—I +say I fail to grasp—er—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald</span> [<i>slowly recovering from an +amazement which has rendered him +mute</i>]. Rosie, a man concealed in your +apartment! But perhaps it is the piano-tuner. +I am willing to believe the best.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Let me introduce Mr. +James Brett, my future husband. Jim, +this is Gerald.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> I have gathered as much. +[<i>The men bow stiffly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>dreamily</i>]. Poor, poor +Gerald! [<i>Her tone is full of feeling. +James is evidently deeply affected by it. +He walks calmly and steadily to the table +and picks up the revolver.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Sir, that tool is mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Sir, the fact remains that it is +an engine of destruction, and that I intend +to use it. Rosamund, the tone in +which you uttered those three words, +"Poor, poor Gerald!" convinces me, a +keen observer of symptoms, that I no +longer possess your love. Without your +love, life to me is meaningless. I object +to anything meaningless—even a word. +I shall therefore venture to deprive myself +of life. Good-by! [<i>To Gerald.</i>] +Sir, I may see you later. [<i>Raises the +revolver to his temples.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>appealing to Gerald to interfere</i>]. +Gerald.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Mr. Brett, I repeat that that +revolver is mine. It would be a serious +breach of good manners if you used it +without my consent, a social solecism of +which I believe you, as a friend of Miss +Fife's, to be absolutely incapable. Still, +as the instrument happens to be in your +hand, you may use it—but not on yourself. +Have the goodness, sir, to aim at +me. I could not permit myself to stand +in the way of another's happiness, as I +should do if I continued to exist. At the +same time I have conscientious objections +to suicide. You will therefore do +me a service by aiming straight. Above +all things, don't hit Miss Fife. I merely +mention it because I perceive that you +are unaccustomed to the use of firearms. +[<i>Folds his arms.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Rosamund, <i>do</i> you love me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> My Jim!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James</span> [<i>deeply moved</i>]. The possessive +pronoun convinces me that you do. +[<i>Smiling blandly.</i>] Sir, I will grant your +most reasonable demand. [<i>Aims at Gerald.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>half shrieking</i>]. I don't +love you if you shoot Gerald.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> But, my dear, this is irrational. +He has asked me to shoot him, +and I have as good as promised to do +so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>entreating</i>]. James, in two +hours we are to be married.... Think +of the complications.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Married! To-day! Then I +withdraw my request.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Yes; perhaps it will be as well. +[<i>Lowers revolver.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> I have never yet knowingly +asked a friend, even an acquaintance, to +shoot me on his wedding-day, and I will +not begin now. Moreover, now I come +to think of it, the revolver wasn't loaded. +Mr. Brett, I inadvertently put you in a +ridiculous position. I apologize.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> I accept the apology. [<i>The +general tension slackens. Both the men +begin to whistle gently, in the effort after +unconcern.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Jim, will you oblige me +by putting that revolver down somewhere. +I know it isn't loaded; but so +many people have been killed by guns +that weren't loaded that I should feel +safer.... [<i>He puts it down on the +table.</i>] Thank you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James</span> [<i>picking up letter</i>]. By the +way, here's that letter that came just +now. Aren't you going to open it? The +writing seems to me to be something like +Lottie Dickinson's.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>taking the letter</i>]. It isn't +Lottie's; it's her sister's. [<i>Stares at envelope.</i>] +I know what it is. I <i>know</i> +what it is. Lottie is ill, or dead, or +something, and can't come and be a witness +at the wedding. I'm sure it's that. +Now, if she's dead we can't <i>be</i> married +to-day; it wouldn't be decent. And it's +frightfully unlucky to have a wedding +postponed. Oh, but there isn't a black +border on the envelope, so she can't be +<i>dead</i>. And yet perhaps it was so sudden +they hadn't time to buy mourning stationery! +This is the result of your coming +here this morning. I felt sure something +would happen. Didn't I tell you +so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> No, you didn't, my dear. But +why don't you open the letter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> I am opening it as fast as +I can. [<i>Reads it hurriedly.</i>] There! +I said so! Lottie fell off her bicycle last +night, and broke her ankle—won't be +able to stir for a fortnight—in great +pain—hopes it won't <i>inconvenience</i> us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Inconvenience! I must say I +regard it as very thoughtless of Lottie +to go bicycling the very night before our +wedding. Where did she fall off?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Sloane Street.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> That makes it positively criminal. +She always falls off in Sloane +Street. She makes a regular practice of +it. I have noticed it before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Perhaps she did it on +purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Not a doubt of it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> She doesn't want us to +get married!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> I have sometimes suspected +that she had a certain tenderness for me. +[<i>Endeavoring to look meek.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> The cat!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> By no means. Cats are never +sympathetic. She is. Let us be just before +we are jealous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Jealous! My dear James! +Have you noticed how her skirts hang?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Hang her skirts!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> You wish to defend +her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> On the contrary; it was I who +first accused her. [<i>Gerald, to avoid the +approaching storm, seeks the shelter of +the screen, sits down, and taking some +paper from his pocket begins thoughtfully +to write.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> My dear James, let me +advise you to keep quite, quite calm. +You are a little bit upset.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> I am a perfect cucumber. +But I can hear you breathing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> If you are a cucumber, +you are a very indelicate cucumber. +I'm not breathing more than is necessary +to sustain life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Yes, you are; and what's more +you'll cry in a minute if you don't take +care. You're getting worked up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> No, I shan't. [<i>Sits down +and cries.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> What did I tell you? Now +perhaps you will inform me what we are +quarreling about, because I haven't the +least idea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>through her sobs</i>]. I do +think it's <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'horried'">horrid</ins> of Lottie. We can't +be married with one witness. And I +didn't want to be married at a registry +office at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> My pet, we can easily get another +witness. As for the registry office, +it was yourself who proposed it, as +a way out of a difficulty. I'm High and +you're Low—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> I'm not Low; I'm Broad, +or else Evangelical.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James</span> [<i>beginning calmly again</i>]. I'm +High and you're Broad, and there was a +serious question about candles and a +genuflexion, and so we decided on the +registry office, which, after all, is much +cheaper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>drying her tears, and putting +on a saintly expression</i>]. Well, anyhow, +James, we will consider our engagement +at an end.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> This extraordinary tiff has +lasted long enough, Rosie. Come and be +kissed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>with increased saintliness</i>]. +You mistake me, James. I am not quarreling. +I am not angry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Then you have ceased to love +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> I adore you passionately. +But we can never marry. Do you not +perceive the warnings against such a +course? First of all you come here—drawn +by some mysterious, sinister impulse—in +breach of all etiquette. That +was a Sign.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> A sign of what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Evil. Then you find that +postcard, to remind me of a forgotten +episode.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Damn the postcard! I wish +I'd never picked it up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Hush! Then comes this +letter about Lottie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Damn that, too!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>sighs</i>]. Then Gerald arrives.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Damn him, too! By the way, +where is he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald</span> [<i>coming out from behind the +screen</i>]. Sir, if you want to influence +my future state by means of a blasphemous +expletive, let me beg you to do +it when ladies are not present. There +are certain prayers which should only +be uttered in the smoking-room. [<i>The +two men stab each other with their eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> I respectfully maintain, Mr. +O'Mara, that you had no business to +call on my future wife within three +hours of her wedding, and throw her +into such a condition of alarm and unrest +that she doesn't know whether she is going +to get married or not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Sir! How in the name of +Heaven was I to guess—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>rising, with an imperative +gesture</i>]. Stop! Sit down, both. James +[<i>who hesitates</i>], this is the last request +I shall ever make of you. [<i>He sits</i>]. +Let me speak. Long ago, from a mistaken +motive of kindness, I gave this +poor boy [<i>pointing to Gerald</i>] to understand +that I loved him; that any rate +I should love him in time. Supported +by that assurance, he existed for four +years through the climatic terrors of a +distant isle. I, pampered with all the +superfluities of civilization, forgot this +noble youth in his exile. I fell selfishly +in love. I promised to marry ... while +he, with nothing to assuage the rigors—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Pardon me, there was Evelyn's +"Moonlight Sonata," not to mention +Madge's eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> You jest, James, but the +jest is untimely. Has he not himself +said that these doubtless excellent young +women were in fact nothing to him, that +it was <i>my</i> image which he kept steadfastly +in his heart?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Ye—es, of course, Rosie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>chiefly to James</i>]. The +sight of this poor youth fills me with +sorrow and compunction and shame. +For it reminds me that four years ago +I lied to him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> It was awfully good of you, +you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> That is beside the point. +At an earlier period of this unhappy +morning, James, you asseverated that +you could not dream of getting married +with a lie on your lips. Neither can I. +James, I love you to madness. [<i>Takes +his inert hand, shakes it, and drops it +again.</i>] Good-by, James! Henceforth +we shall be strangers. My duty is towards +Gerald.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> But if you love <i>him</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> With a good woman, conscience +comes first, love second. In time +I shall learn to love <i>you</i>. I was always +quick at lessons. Gerald, take me. It +is the only way by which I can purge +my lips of the lie uttered four years ago. +[<i>Puts her hands on Gerald's shoulders.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> In about three-quarters of an +hour you will regret this, Rosamund Fife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> One never regrets a good +action.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Oh! well! I say.... [<i>inarticulate +with embarrassment</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. James, we +are waiting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> What for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> For you to go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Don't mind me. You forget +that I am in the War Office, and accustomed +to surprising situations.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Look here, Rosie. It's awfully +good of you, and you're doing me a +frightfully kind turn; but I can't accept +it, you know. It wouldn't do. Kindness +spoils my character.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Yes, and think of the shock +to the noble youth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> I couldn't permit such a +sacrifice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> To a good woman life +should be one long sacrifice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Yes, that's all very well, and +I tell you, Rosie, I'm awfully obliged to +you. Of course I'm desperately in love +with you. That goes without saying. +But I also must sacrifice myself. The +fact is ... there's Madge....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Well, you know what a place +a steamer is, especially in calm, warm +weather. I'm afraid I've rather led her +to expect.... The fact is, while you and +Mr. Brett were having your little discussion +just now, I employed the time in +scribbling out a bit of a letter to her, +and I rather fancy that I've struck one +or two deuced good ideas in the proposal +line. How's this for a novelty: +"My dear Miss Madge, you cannot fail +to have noticed from my behavior in +your presence that I admire you tremendously?" +Rather a neat beginning, +eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> But you said you loved +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Oh, well, so I do. You see +I only state that I "admire" her. All +the same I feel I'm sort of bound to her, ... +you see how I'm fixed. I should +much prefer, of course....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> To a good man life should be +one long sacrifice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Exactly, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>steadying herself and approaching +James</i>]. Jim, my sacrifice is +over. It was a terrible ordeal, and nothing +but a strict sense of duty could have +supported me through such a trying +crisis. I am yours. Lead me to the altar. +I trust Gerald may be happy with +this person named Madge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> The flame of your love has +not faltered?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Ah, no!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Well, if my own particular +flame hadn't been fairly robust, the recent +draughts might have knocked it +about a bit. You have no more sacrifices +in immediate view?... [<i>She looks at +him in a certain marvelous way, and he +suddenly swoops down and kisses her.</i>] +To the altar! March! Dash; we shall +want another witness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Couldn't I serve?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> You're sure it wouldn't +be too much for your feelings?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> I should enjoy it.... I +mean I shan't mind very much. Let us +therefore start. If we're too soon you +can watch the process at work on others, +and learn how to comport yourselves. +By the way, honeymoon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Paris. Charing Cross 1:30. +Dine at Dover.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Then you shall eat that +lunch I have ordered at the Savoy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> Er—talking of lunch, as +I'm hostess here, perhaps I should ask +you men if you'd like a drink.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James and Gerald</span> [<i>looking hopefully +at each other</i>]. Well, yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> I have some beautiful +lemonade.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James</span> AND <span class="smcap">Gerald</span> [<i>still looking at +each other, but with a different expression</i>]. +Oh, that will be delightful! +[<i>Lemonade and glasses produced.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> I drink to the happy pair.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund</span> [<i>a little sinister</i>]. And I—to +Madge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> And I—to a good woman—Mrs. +Pet [<i>looking at her fixedly</i>]. All +men like a good woman, but she +shouldn't be too good—it's a strain on +the system. [<i>General consumption of +lemonade, the men bravely swallowing it +down, Rosamund rests her head on +James's shoulder.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosamund.</span> It occurs to me, Gerald, +you only ordered lunch for two at the +Savoy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gerald.</span> Well, that's right. By that +time you and James, if I may call him +so, will be one, and me makes two.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LITTLE_STONE_HOUSE" id="THE_LITTLE_STONE_HOUSE"></a>THE LITTLE STONE HOUSE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By George Calderon</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center"> +Copyright, 1913, by Sidgwick & Jackson, Ltd.<br /> +All rights reserved.<br /> +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">The Little Stone House</span> is founded on a story by the same author, published +anonymously some years ago in <i>Temple Bar</i>.</p> + +<p>The agents for amateur rights in this play are Messrs. Samuel French, 28 West +38th Street, New York, and Joseph Williams, Ltd., 32 Great Portland Street, London, +from whom a license to play it in public must be obtained.</p> + +<p>It was first performed for the Stage Society at the Aldwych Theatre, London, +January 29, 1911, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Praskóvya</span>, <i>a lodging-house keeper</i></td><td align='left'><i>Mrs. Saba Raleigh</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Varvára</span>, <i>her servant</i></td><td align='left'><i>Miss Eily Malyon</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Astéryi</span>, <i>a lodger</i></td><td align='left'><i>Mr. Franklin Dyall</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Fomá</span>, <i>a lodger</i></td><td align='left'><i>Mr. Stephen T. Ewart</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Spiridón</span>, <i>a stonemason</i></td><td align='left'><i>Mr. Leon M. Lion</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Stranger</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mr. O. P. Heggie</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Corporal</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mr. E. Cresfan</i></td></tr> +</table></div> +<p class="center">Produced by <span class="smcap">Mr. Kenelm Foss</span>.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene</span>: <i>Small provincial town in Russia.</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">Reprinted by permission of, and special arrangement with, Messrs. Sidgwick and<br /> +Jackson, Ltd., publishers of the English edition.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE LITTLE STONE HOUSE</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By George Calderon</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>Praskóvya's sitting-room. Street +door in porch and a curtainless window +at the back. It is night; the light of an +oil-lamp in the street dimly shows snow-covered +houses and falling snow. The +room is plainly furnished: a bed, a curtain +on a cord, some books, eikons on a +shelf in the corner with a wick in a red +glass bowl burning before them, paper +flowers, and Easter eggs on strings. A +photograph of a man of twenty hangs +by the eikons. There are doors to +kitchen and to the lodgers' rooms.</i></p> + +<p><i>Varvára is discovered sitting by a +lamp darning stockings.</i></p> + +<p><i>There is an atmosphere of silence, +solitude, and Russian monotony. The +clock ticks. A man is seen passing in +the street; his feet make no sound on the +snowy ground. There is the sound of a +concertina and a man who laughs in the +distance out of doors. Then silence +again.</i></p> + +<p><i>Enter Astéryi, stout and lazy; gray +hair thrown untidily back, a rough beard. +He is in slippers and dirty dressing-gown, +with a big case full of Russian +cigarettes in his pocket.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Is Praskóvya Petróvna not at home?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> [<i>rising</i>]. She is not at home, +Astéryi Ivanovitch. She has gone to +Vespers at St. Pantaléimon's in the +Marsh. It is the festival of the translation +of St. Pantaléimon's relics. [<i>Varvára +sits again. Astéryi walks to and +fro smoking a cigarette.</i>] Will you not +have your game of patience as usual?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Without Praskóvya Petróvna?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> She would be sorry if you +missed your game because she was late. +You can play again when she returns; +she likes to watch you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Very well.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Varvára gets a pack of cards. Astéryi +sits at a table at one side +and plays.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> Shall I prepare the samovar?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Not yet; I will wait. How +greasy these cards are [<i>laying out a patience</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> No wonder, Astéryi Ivanovitch. +It is two years since you bought this +pack.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span> [<i>without</i>]. Varvára! Varvára! +There is no water in my jug.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> There is one of the lodgers calling +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> It is the schoolmaster.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Better not keep him waiting; he +is an angry man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> I will go. Excuse me, please.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Varvára. The clock ticks +again. Astéryi pauses and meditates, +then murmurs, "Oh, Hóspodi!" +as if in surprise at being +so terribly bored. The concertina +plays a few notes. A knock at +the street door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Who's there? Come in, come in!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Spiridón, a man with a cringing, +crafty manner, in a sheepskin +coat with snow on it. He stands by +the door, facing the eikon, crossing +himself with large gestures and +bowing very low towards it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> [<i>looking round</i>]. Good-day, sir, +good-day. [<i>Crossing himself again.</i>] +May the holy saints preserve all in this +house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Ah! it's you, Spiridón?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> Yes, sir. It is Spiridón the +stonemason.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> What brings you here, Spiridón?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> Is Praskóvya Petróvna not at +home?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> No, she has gone to Vespers at +St. Pantaléimon's in the Marsh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> The service is late to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Yes.... You are a hard man, +Spiridón.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> Me, sir!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> And you lose money by your +hardness. Praskóvya Petróvna is a +poor woman. For years she has been +saving up money to build a stone house +over the grave of her son in the Tróitski +Cemetery. You say that you will build +it for 500 roubles, but you ask too much. +By starving herself and pinching in every +way she has saved up 400 roubles at last, +and if you were a wise man you would +accept it. For see, she is old; if she +starve herself to save up another 100 +roubles she will be dead before she has +got it; her money will be sent back to her +village or it will go into the pocket of +some official, and you will not have the +tomb-house to build at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> I have thought of all these +things, Astéryi Ivanovitch, since you last +spoke to me about it. And I said to myself: +Astéryi Ivanovitch is perhaps +right; it is not only Praskóvya Petróvna +who is old; I myself am old also, and +may die before she has saved up money +enough. But it is very hard to work and +be underpaid. Good Valdai stone is expensive +and hard to cut, and workmen +nowadays ask for unholy wages. Still, +I said to myself, a tomb-house for her +son—it is a God-fearing work: and I +have resolved to make the sacrifice. I +have come to tell her I will consent to +build it for 400 roubles.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> You have done rightly. You are +an honest man, and God and St. Nicholas +will perhaps save your soul.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Fomá in cap and great-coat +from the door to the lodgers' +rooms.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Good-evening, Astéryi Ivanovitch. +Is Praskóvya not at home?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> No, she is at Vespers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> I come in and find my stove +smoking. [<i>Taking of his coat.</i>] I +wished to ask her permission to sit here +awhile to escape a headache. Who is +this? Ah, Spiridón. And by what miracle +does Astéryi Ivanovitch hope that +God and St. Nicholas will save your +soul?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> He has consented to build Praskóvya +Petróvna the tomb-house over +Sasha's grave for 400 roubles instead of +500.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> That is good! She will be +glad to hear the news, and shake hands +on the bargain, and christen the earnest-money +with vodka.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> The earnest-money? Ah no, sir, +there can be no earnest-money. The +whole sum of money must be paid at +once. I am a poor man. I must pay +the quarryman for the stone; my workmen +cannot live on air.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> If she has the money she will +pay you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Well, if there is to be no +earnest-money, at least we will have the +vodka. Vodka is always good.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> [<i>to Spiridón</i>]. Sit down and wait +till she returns. She will not be long.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> No, no; I will come again in an +hour. I have to go to my brother-in-law +two streets away. [<i>Crossing himself before +the eikons.</i>] I will come again as I +return.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The tap of drums in the street.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Why are they beating drums?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> It is a patrol passing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> The soldiers are very watchful +to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> It is because the Empress +comes this way to-morrow on her journey +to Smolensk.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> They have arrested many suspicious +people. All those who have no +passports are being sent away to Siberia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Ah! poor creatures! [<i>A patrol +of soldiers passes the window quietly</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> Why should you say "poor +creatures"? If they were honest men +they would not be without passports. +Good-evening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Wait till they have gone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> We honest men have nothing to +fear from them. Good-evening. I will +return again in an hour. [<i>Exit Spiridón.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> How glad Praskóvya will be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Say nothing of this to any one. +We will keep it as a surprise.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Varvára.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá</span>. Varvára, my pretty child, +fetch the bottle of vodka from my room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var</span>. Vodka in here? Praskóvya +Petróvna will be angry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá</span>. No, she will not be angry; she +will be glad. [<i>Exit Varvára.</i>] Do you +play patience here every night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast</span>. Every night for more than +twenty years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> What is it called?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> It is called the Wolf!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Does it ever come out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> It has come out twice. The first +time I found a purse in the street which +somebody had lost. The second time the +man above me at the office died, and I +got his place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> It brings good luck then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> To me at least.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> How glad Praskóvya Petróvna +will be!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Varvára with vodka bottle, +which she sets on a table; no one +drinks from it yet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> Do you not want to drink tea?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Very much, you rogue.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> Then I will set the samovar for +both of you in here. [<i>She gets out tumblers, +lemon and sugar.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> I did wrong in moving the seven.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Put it back then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> It is too late. Once it has been +moved, it must not be put back.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Praskóvya from the street +hurriedly with a lantern.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> [<i>crossing herself</i>]. Hóspodi +Bózhe moy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> [<i>running to her, frightened</i>]. +Have you seen him again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> [<i>agitated</i>]. I do not know. +There seemed to be men standing everywhere +in the shadows.... Good-evening, +Fomá Ilyitch, good-evening, Astéryi +Ivanovitch.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Varvára goes out, and brings in +the samovar.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> I have been making myself at +home; my stove smoked.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Sit down, sit down! What +ceremony! Why should you not be here? +And vodka too? What is the vodka for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> I will tell you when I have finished +my patience. [<i>They all drink tea.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> So you are playing already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> If it comes out, the good luck +that it brings shall be for you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> For me? [<i>They all watch Astéryi +playing.</i>] The knave goes on the +queen. [<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> That is unfortunate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> You should not have moved the +ten. [<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> That will be better. [<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> How brightly the eikon lamp +burns before the portrait of my boy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> It does indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> It is the new fire from the +Candlemas taper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> It is the new oil that makes it +burn brightly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> [<i>crossing herself</i>]. Nonsense! it +is the new fire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Did ever one hear such stuff? +She put out the lamp at Candlemas, and +lighted it anew from the taper which she +brought home from the midnight service, +from the new fire struck by the priest +with flint and steel; and now she thinks +that is the reason why it burns so +brightly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> Is that not so then, Astéryi +Ivanovitch?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Oh, Fomá Ilyitch is a chemist; +he can tell you what fire is made of.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> So you have been all the way +to St. Pantaléimon's in the Marsh? Oh, +piety, thy name is Praskóvya Petróvna! +Not a person can hold the most miserably +little service in the remotest corner +of the town but you smell it out and go +to it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> It is a Christian deed, Fomá +Ilyitch.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Now I can get at the ace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> [<i>to Praskóvya</i>]. I must get your +supper. [<i>She gets a plate of meat from +a cupboard.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> And on All Souls' Day she +brought home holy water in a bottle and +sprinkled the rooms of all the lodgers. +The schoolmaster was very angry. You +spotted the cover of his Greek Lexicon. +He says it is a pagan custom, come down +to us from the ancient Scythians.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> I do not like to hear jokes +about sacred things. One may provoke +Heaven to anger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Now I get all this row off.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> You are always afraid of offending +Heaven.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Of course I am. Think what I +have at stake. For you it is only a little +thing. You have a life of your own +on earth; I have none. I have been as +good as dead for twenty years, and the +only thing that I desire is to get safely +to heaven to join my son who is there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> We all wish to get to heaven.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Not so much as I do. If I +were in hell it is not the brimstone that +would matter; it would be to know that +I should not see my son. [<i>Fomá nods</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> I believe it is coming out.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They all concentrate their attention +eagerly on the patience.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> The six and the seven go. +Saints preserve us! and the eight. [<i>She +takes up a card to move it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> No, not that one; leave that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> Where did it come from?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> From here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> No, from there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> It was from here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> It is all the same.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> It will go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> And the knave from off this +row.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> The Wolf is going out!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> It is seven years since it went +out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Seven years?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> It is out!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> It is done!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> [<i>clapping her hands</i>]. Hooray!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> [<i>elated</i>]. Some great good fortune +is going to happen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> What can it be? [<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> And what is the vodka for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> The vodka?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> You promised to tell me when +the patience was done.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> How much money have you +saved up for the house on Sasha's tomb?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Four hundred and six roubles +and a few kopecks.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> And Spiridón asks for 500 +roubles?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Five hundred roubles.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> What if he should lower his +price?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> He will not lower his price.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> What if he should say that he +would take 450 roubles?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Why, if I went without food +for a year.... [<i>Laughing at herself.</i>] +If one could but live without food!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> What if he should say that he +would take 420 roubles?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Astéryi Ivanovitch, you know +the proverb—the elbow is near, but you +cannot bite it. I am old and feeble. I +want it now, now, now. Shall I outlive +the bitter winter? A shelter to sit in +and talk to my son. A monument +worthy of such a saint.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Spiridón has been here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Spiridón has been here? What +did he say? Tell me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> He will build it for 400 roubles.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> For 400 roubles!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> He will return soon to strike a +bargain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Is it true?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> As true as that I wear the cross.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Oh, all the holy saints be +praised! Sláva Tebyé Hóspodi! [<i>Kneeling +before the eikons.</i>] Oh, my darling +Sasha, we will meet in a fine house, you +and I, face to face. [<i>She prostrates herself +three times before the eikons.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> Then this is the good luck.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> No, this cannot be what the +cards told us; for this had happened already +before the Wolf came out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> Then there is something else to +follow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Evidently.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> What can it be?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> To-morrow perhaps we shall +know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> [<i>rising</i>]. And in a month I +shall have my tomb-house finished, for +which I have been waiting twenty years! +A little stone house safe against the +rain. [<i>Smiling and eager.</i>] There will +be a tile stove which I can light: in the +middle a stone table and two chairs—one +for me and one for my boy when he +comes and sits with me, and....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> [<i>at the window, shrieking</i>]. Ah! +Heaven defend us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> The face! the face!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> The face again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> What face?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> The face looked in at the window!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Whose face?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> It is the man that we have seen +watching us in the cemetery.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> [<i>crossing herself</i>]. Oh, Heaven +preserve me from this man!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> [<i>opening the street door</i>]. +There is nobody there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> This is a false alarm.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> People who tire their eyes by +staring at window-panes at night often +see faces looking in through them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Oh, Hóspodi!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Spiridón will be returning soon. +Have you the money ready?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> The money? Yes, yes! I will +get it ready. It is not here. Come, +Varvára. [<i>They put on coats and +shawls.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> If it is in the bank we must wait +till the daytime.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> My money in the bank? I am +not so foolish. [<i>She lights the lantern.</i>] +Get the spade, Varvára. [<i>Varvára goes +out and fetches a spade.</i>] It is buried +in the field, in a place that no one knows +but myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Are you not afraid to go out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Afraid? No, I am not afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> But your supper—you have +not eaten your supper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> How can I think of supper at +such a moment?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> No supper? Oh, what a wonderful +thing is a mother's love!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> [<i>to Astéryi and Fomá</i>]. Stay +here till we return.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> [<i>drawing back</i>]. I am afraid, +Praskóvya Petróvna.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Nonsense, there is nothing to +fear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> [<i>throwing his coat over his +back</i>]. I will go with you to the corner +of the street.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> [<i>shuffling the cards</i>]. I must +try one for myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> [<i>mockingly</i>]. What's the use? +It will never come out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> [<i>cheerfully</i>]. Oh, it never does +to be discouraged.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exeunt Praskóvya, Varvára, and +Fomá. Astéryi plays patience. +Everything is silent and monotonous +again. The clock ticks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> [<i>reënters, dancing and singing +roguishly to the tune of the Russian folksong, +"Vo sadú li v vogoróde"</i>]:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +In the shade there walked a maid<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As fair as any flower,</span><br /> +Picking posies all of roses<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For to deck her bower.</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Don't make such a noise.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> I can't help it. I'm gay. I +have a sympathetic soul. I rejoice with +Praskóvya Petróvna. I think she is mad, +but I rejoice with her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> So do I; but I don't disturb +others on that account.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Come, old grumbler, have a +mouthful of vodka. [<i>Melodramatically.</i>] +A glass of wine with Cæsar Borgia! +[<i>Singing.</i>]</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +As she went adown the bent<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She met a merry fellow,</span><br /> +He was drest in all his best<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In red and blue and yellow.</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p>So he was a saint, was he, that son of +hers? Well, well, of what advantage is +that? Saints are not so easy to love as +sinners. You and I are not saints, are +we, Astéryi Ivanovitch?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> I do not care to parade my halo +in public.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Oh, as for me, I keep mine in +a box under the bed; it only frightens +people. Do you think he would have remained +a saint all this time if he had +lived?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Who can say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Nonsense! He would have become +like the rest of us. Then why make +all this fuss about him? Why go on for +twenty years sacrificing her own life to +a fantastic image?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Why not, if it please her to +do so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Say what you please, but all +the same she is mad; yes, Praskóvya is +mad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> We call every one mad who is +faithful to their ideas. If people think +only of food and money and clothing we +call them sane, but if they have ideas +beyond those things we call them mad. +I envy Praskóvya. Praskóvya has preserved +in her old age what I myself have +lost. I, too, had ideas once, but I have +been unfaithful to them; they have +evaporated and vanished.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> What ideas were these?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Liberty! Political regeneration!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Ah, yes; you were a sad revolutionary +once, I have been told.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> I worshiped Liberty, as Praskóvya +worships her Sasha. But I have +lived my ideals down in the dull routine +of my foolish, aimless life as an office +hack, a clerk in the District Council, +making copies that no one will ever see +of documents that no one ever wants +to read.... Suddenly there comes the +Revolution; there is fighting in the +streets; men raise the red flag; blood +flows. I might go forth and strike a +blow for that Liberty which I loved +twenty years ago. But no, I have become +indifferent. I do not care who +wins, the Government or the Revolutionaries; +it is all the same to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> You are afraid. One gets timid +as one gets older.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Afraid? No. What have I to +be afraid of? Death is surely not so +much worse than life? No, it is because +my idea is dead and cannot be +made to live again, while Praskóvya, +whose routine as a lodging-house keeper +is a hundred times duller than mine, is +still faithful to her old idea. Let us not +call her mad; let us rather worship her +as something holy, for her fidelity to an +idea in this wretched little town where +ideas are as rare as white ravens.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> She has no friends to love?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> She has never had any friends; +she needed none.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> She has relatives, I suppose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> None.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> What mystery explains this solitude?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> If there is a mystery it is easily +guessed. It is an everyday story; the +story of a peasant woman betrayed and +deserted by a nobleman. She came with +her child to this town; and instead of +sinking, set herself bravely to work, to +win a living for the two of them. She +was young and strong then; her work +prospered with her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> And her son was worthy of her +love?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> He was a fine boy—handsome +and intelligent. By dint of the fiercest +economy she got him a nobleman's education; +sent him to the Gymnase, and +thence, when he was eighteen, to the University +of Moscow. Praskóvya herself +cannot read or write, but her boy ... +the books on that shelf are the prizes +which he won. She thought him a pattern +of all the virtues.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Aha! now we're coming to it! +So he was a sinner after all?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> We are none of us perfect. His +friends were ill-chosen. The hard-earned +money that Praskóvya thought was spent +on University expenses went on many +other things—on drink, on women, and +on gambling. But he did one good thing—he +hid it all safely from his mother. +I helped him in that. Together we kept +her idea safe through a difficult period. +And before he was twenty it was all over—he +was dead.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Yes, he was murdered by some +foreigner, I know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> By Adámek, a Pole.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> And what was the motive of +the crime?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> It was for money. By inquiries +which I made after the trial I ascertained +that this Adámek was a bad character +and an adventurer, who used to +entice students to his rooms to drink and +gamble with him. Sasha had become an +intimate friend of his; and it was even +said that they were partners in cheating +the rest. Anyhow, there is no doubt that +at one time or another they had won +considerable sums at cards, and disputed +as to the ownership of them. The last +thing that was heard of them, they +bought a sledge with two horses and set +out saying they were going to Tula. On +the road Adámek murdered the unfortunate +boy. The facts were all clear and +indisputable. There was no need to +search into the motives. The murderer +fell straight into the hands of the police. +The District Inspector, coming silently +along the road in his sledge, suddenly +saw before him the boy lying dead by +the roadside, and the murderer standing +over him with the knife in his hand. He +arrested him at once; there was no possibility +of denying it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> And it was quite clear that his +victim was Sasha?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Quite clear. Adámek gave intimate +details about him, such as only a +friend of his could have known, which +put his identity beyond a doubt. When +the trial was over the body was sent in a +coffin to Praskóvya Petróvna, who buried +it here in the Tróitski Cemetery.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> And the Pole?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> He was sent to penal servitude +for life to the silver mines of Siberia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> So Praskóvya is even madder +than I thought. Her religion is founded +on a myth. Her life is an absurd deception.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> No; she has created something +out of nothing; that is all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> In your place I should have +told her the truth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Anything is better than a lie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> There is no lie in it. Praskóvya's +idea and Sasha's life are two independent +things. A statement of fact +may be true or false; but an idea need +only be clear and definite. That is all +that matters. [<i>There is a tapping at +the door; the latch is lifted, and the +Stranger peeps in.</i>] Come in, come +in!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter the Stranger, ragged and degraded. +He looks about the room, +dazed by the light, and fixes his +attention on Astéryi.</i>]</p> + +<p>Who are you? What do you want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stranger.</span> I came to speak to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> To speak to me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Take off your cap. Do you +not see the eikons?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> What do you want with me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stranger.</span> Only a word, Astéryi Ivanovitch.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> How have you learnt my name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Do you know the man?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stranger.</span> You do not know me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stranger.</span> Have you forgotten me, +Astéryi Ivanovitch?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> [<i>almost speechless</i>]. Sasha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> What is it? You look as if +you had seen a ghost.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> A ghost? There are no such +things as ghosts. Would that it were a +ghost. It is Sasha.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Sasha?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> It is Praskóvya's son alive.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Praskóvya's son?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> You remember me now, Astéryi +Ivanovitch.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> How have you risen from the +dead? How have you come back from +the grave—you who were dead and +buried these twenty years and more?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> I have not risen from the +dead. I have not come back from the +grave; but I have come a long, long journey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> From where?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> From Siberia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> From Siberia?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> From Siberia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> What were you doing in Siberia?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Do you not understand, Astéryi +Ivanovitch? I am a criminal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> A convict, a felon. I have +escaped and come home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Of what crime have you been +guilty?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Do not ask me so many questions, +but give me something to eat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> But tell me this....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> There is food here. I smelt +it as I came in. [<i>He eats the meat with +his fingers ravenously, like a wild beast.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> It is your mother's supper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> I do not care whose supper it +is. I am ravenous. I have had nothing +to eat all day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Can this wild beast be Praskóvya's +son?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> We are all wild beasts if we +are kept from food. Ha! and vodka, +too! [<i>helping himself</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Are you a convict, a felon, +Sasha? You who were dead? Then we +have been deceived for many years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Have you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Some other man was murdered +twenty years ago. The murderer said +that it was you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Ah, he said that it was me, +did he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Why did Adámek say that it was +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Can you not guess? Adámek +murdered no one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> He murdered no one? But he +was condemned.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> He was never condemned.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Never condemned? Then what +became of him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> He died.... Do you not understand? +It was I who killed Adámek.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> We had quarreled. We were +alone in a solitary place. I killed him +and stood looking down at him with the +knife in my hand dripping scarlet in the +snow, frightened at the sudden silence +and what I had done. And while I +thought I was alone, I turned and saw +the police-officer with his revolver leveled +at my head. Then amid the confusion +and black horror that seized on me, a +bright thought shot across my mind. +Adámek had no relatives, no friends; he +was an outcast. Stained with his flowing +blood, I exchanged names with him; +that's the old heroic custom of blood-brotherhood, +you know. I named myself +Adámek; I named my victim Sasha. Ingenious, +wasn't it? I had romantic ideas +in those days. Adámek has been cursed +for a murderer, and my memory has been +honored. Alexander Petróvitch has +been a hero; my mother has wept for +me. I have seen her in the graveyard +lamenting on my tomb; I have read my +name on the cross. I hardly know +whether to laugh or to cry. Evidently +she loves me still.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> And you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Do I love her? No. There +is no question of that. She is part of a +life that was ended too long ago. I have +only myself to think of now. What +should I gain by loving her? Understand, +I am an outlaw, an escaped convict; +a word can send me back to the +mines. I must hide myself, the patrols +are everywhere.... Even here I am not +safe. [<i>Locks the street door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Why have you returned? Why +have you spoilt what you began so well? +Having resolved twenty years ago to +vanish like a dead man....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Ah! if they had killed me then +I would have died willingly. But after +twenty years remorse goes, pity goes, +everything goes; entombed in the mines, +but still alive.... I was worn out. I +could bear it no longer. Others were +escaping, I escaped with them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> This will break her heart. She +has made an angel of you. The lamp is +always burning....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha</span> [<i>going to the eikon corner with +a glass of vodka in his hand</i>]. Aha! +Alexander Nevski, my patron saint. I +drink to you, my friend: but I cannot +congratulate you on your work. As a +guardian angel you have been something +of a failure. And what is this? [<i>taking +a photograph</i>]. Myself! Who would +have known this for my portrait? Look +at the angel child, with the soft cheeks +and the pretty curly hair. How innocent +and good I looked! [<i>bringing it +down</i>]. And even then I was deceiving +my mother. She never understood that +a young man must live, he must live. +We are animals first; we have instincts +that need something warmer, something +livelier, than the tame dull round of +home. [<i>He throws down the photograph; +Fomá replaces it.</i>] And even +now I have no intention of dying. Yet +how am I to live? I cannot work; the +mines have sucked out all my strength. +Has my mother any money?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> [<i>to Fomá</i>]. What can we do with +him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Has my mother any money?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Money? Of course not. Would +she let lodgings if she had? Listen. I +am a poor man myself, but I will give +you ten roubles and your railway fare to +go to St. Petersburg.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> St. Petersburg? And what +shall I do there when I have spent the +ten roubles?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> [<i>shrugging his shoulders</i>]. How +do I know? Live there, die there, only +stay away from here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> What right have you to send +him away? Why do you suppose that +she will not be glad to see him? Let +her see her saint bedraggled, and love +him still—that is what true love means. +You have regaled her with lies all these +years; but now it is no longer possible. +[<i>A knocking at the door.</i>] She is at the +door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> [<i>to Sasha</i>]. Come with me. [<i>To +Fomá.</i>] He must go out by the other +way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá</span> [<i>stopping them</i>]. No, I forbid +it. It is the hand of God that has led +him here. Go and unlock the door. +[<i>Astéryi shrugs his shoulders, and goes +to unlock the door.</i>] [<i>To Sasha, hiding +him.</i>] Stand here a moment till I have +prepared your mother.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Praskóvya and Varvára, +carrying a box.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Why is the door locked? Were +you afraid without old Praskóvya to protect +you? Here is the money. Now let +me count it. Have you two been quarreling? +There are fifty roubles in this +bag, all in little pieces of silver; it took +me two years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> How you must have denied +yourself, Praskóvya, and all to build a +hut in a churchyard!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> On what better thing could +money be spent?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> You are so much in love with +your tomb-house, I believe that you would +be sorry if it turned out that your son +was not dead, but alive.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Why do you say such things? +You know that I should be glad. Ah! +if I could but see him once again as he +was then, and hold him in my arms!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> But he would not be the same +now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> If he were different, he would +not be my son.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> What if all these years he had +been an outcast, living in degradation?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Who has been eating here? +Who has been drinking here? Something +has happened! Tell me what it is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> Your son is not dead.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Not dead? Why do you say it +so sadly? No, it is not true. I do not +believe it. How can I be joyful at the +news if you tell it so sadly? If he is +alive, where is he? Let me see him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ast.</span> He is here.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sasha comes forward.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> No, no! Tell me that that is +not him ... my son whom I have loved +all these years, my son that lies in the +churchyard. [<i>To Sasha.</i>] Don't be cruel +to me. Say that you are not my son; +you cannot be my son.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> You know that I am your son.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> My son is dead; he was murdered. +I buried his body in the Tróitski +Cemetery.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> But you see that I was not +murdered. Touch me; feel me. I am +alive. I and Adámek fought; it was not +Adámek that slew me, it was....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> No, no! I want to hear no +more. You have come to torment me. +Only say what you want of me, anything, +and I will do it, if you will leave me in +peace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> I want food and clothing; I +want shelter; I must have money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> You will go if I give you +money? Yes? Say that you will go, far, +far away, and never come back to tell +lies.... But I have no money to give; +I am a poor woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Come, what's all this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> No, no! I need it; I can't spare +it. What I have I have starved myself +to get. Two roubles, five roubles, even +ten roubles I will give you, if you will +go far, far away....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Before he can travel we must +bribe some peasant to lend him his passport.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Has he no passport then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> No.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A knock. Enter Spiridón.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Spir.</span> Peace be on this house. May +the saints watch over all of you! Astéryi +Ivanovitch will have told you of my +proposal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Yes, I have heard of it, Spiridón.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Good-by, Spiridón; there is +no work for you here. That is all over.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Why do you say that that is +all over?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> There will be no tomb-house +to build.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> No tomb-house? How dare you +say so? He is laughing at us, Spiridón. +The tomb-house that we have planned together, +with the table in the middle, and +the two chairs.... Do not listen to him, +Spiridón. At last I have money enough; +let us count it together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Give me my share, mother!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> I have no money for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha</span> [<i>advancing</i>]. I must have +money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> You shall not touch it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> I will not go unless you give +me money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> It is not mine. I have promised +it all to Spiridón. Help me, Astéryi +Ivanovitch; he will drive me mad! +Oh, what must I do? What must I do? +Is there no way, Varvára? [<i>Tap of +drums without.</i>] [<i>To Sasha.</i>] Go! go! +go quickly, or worse will befall you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> I will not go and starve while +you have all this money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Ah! Since you will have it so.... +It is you, not I! [<i>Running out at +the door and calling.</i>] Patrol! Patrol!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> Stop her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Var.</span> Oh, Hóspodi!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> Help! Help! Come here!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá.</span> What have you done? What +have you done?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Corporal and Soldiers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> This man is a thief and a murderer. +He is a convict escaped from +Siberia. He has no passport.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> Is that true? Where is your +passport?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> I have none.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> We are looking for such men +as you. Come!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> This woman is my mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> That's her affair. You have no +passport; that is enough for me. You'll +soon be back on the road to the North +with the rest of them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sasha.</span> Woman! woman! Have pity +on your son.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Corp.</span> Come along, lad, and leave the +old woman in peace.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Sasha in custody.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pras.</span> The Lord help me!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Praskóvya stumbles towards the +eikons and sinks <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'slindly'">blindly</ins> before +them.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fomá</span> [<i>looking after Sasha</i>]. Poor +devil!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Astéryi.</span> What's a man compared to +an idea?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Praskóvya rolls over, dead.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="MARYS_WEDDING" id="MARYS_WEDDING"></a>MARY'S WEDDING</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Gilbert Cannan</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center"> +Copyright, 1913, by Sidgwick and Jackson.<br /> +All rights reserved.<br /> +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mary's Wedding</span> was first produced at the Coronet Theatre, in May, 1912, with the +following cast:</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mary</span></td><td align='left'><i>Miss Irene Rooke</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Tom</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mr. Herbert Lomas</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ann</span></td><td align='left'><i>Miss Mary Goulden</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Airey</span></td><td align='left'><i>Miss Muriel Pratt</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Bill Airey</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mr. Charles Bibby</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Two Maids</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Villagers and Others</span>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene</span>: <i>The Davis's Cottage</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Note</span>: There is no attempt made in the play to reproduce exactly the Westmoreland +dialect, which would be unintelligible to ears coming new to it, but only to catch +the rough music of it and the slow inflection of northern voices.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">Reprinted from "Four Plays," by permission of Mr. Gilbert Cannan.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>MARY'S WEDDING</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Gilbert Cannan</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>The scene is the living-room in the +Davis's cottage in the hill country. An +old room low in the ceiling. Ann Davis +is at the table in the center of the room +untying a parcel. The door opens to +admit Tom Davis, a sturdy quarryman +dressed in his best and wearing a large +nosegay.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> Well, 'ast seed un?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> Ay, a seed un. 'Im and 'is ugly face—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann</span> [<i>untying her parcel</i>].'Tis 'er +dress come just in time an' no more from +the maker-up—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> Ef she wouldna do it....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> But 'tis such long years she's +been a-waitin'.... 'Tis long years since +she bought t' dress.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> An' 'tis long years she'll be a +livin' wi' what she's been waitin' for; +'tis long years she'll live to think ower it +and watch the thing she's taken for her +man, an' long years that she'll find 'un +feedin' on 'er, an' a dreary round she'll +'ave of et....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> Three times she 'ave come to a +month of weddin' an' three times 'e 'ave +broke loose and gone down to the Mortal +Man an' the woman that keeps 'arf our +men in drink.... 'Tis she is the wicked +one, giving 'em score an' score again 'till +they owe more than they can ever pay +with a year's money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> 'Tis a fearful thing to drink....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> So I telled 'er in the beginnin' +of it all, knowin' what like of man 'e +was. An' so I telled 'er last night only.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> She be set on it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> An', an' 'ere's t' pretty dress +for 'er to be wedded in....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> What did she say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> Twice she 'ave broke wi' 'im, +and twice she 'ave said that ef 'e never +touched the drink fur six months she +would go to be churched wi' 'im. She +never 'ave looked at another man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> Ay, she be one o' they quiet ones +that goes about their work an' never 'as +no romantical notions but love only the +more for et. There've been men come +for 'er that are twice the man that Bill +is, but she never looks up from 'er work +at 'em.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> I think she must 'a' growed up +lovin' Bill. 'Tis a set thing surely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> An' when that woman 'ad 'im +again an' 'ad 'im roaring drunk fur a +week, she never said owt but turned to +'er work agin an' set aside the things +she was makin' agin the weddin'....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> What did 'e say to 'er?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> Nowt. 'E be 'most as chary o' +words as she. 'E've got the 'ouse an' +everything snug, and while 'e works 'e +makes good money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> 'Twill not end, surely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> There was 'is father and two +brothers all broken men by it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She hears Mary on the stairs, and +they are silent.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> 'Ere's yer pretty dress, Mary.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> Ay.... Thankye, Tom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> 'Twill be lovely for ye, my dear, +an' grand. 'Tis a fine day fur yer weddin', +my dear....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> I'll be sorry to go, Tom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> An' sorry we'll be to lose ye....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> I'll put the dress on.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She throws the frock over her arm +and goes out with it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> Another girl would 'a' wedded +him years ago in the first foolishness of +it. But Mary, for all she says so little, +'as long, long thoughts that never comes +to the likes o' you and me.... Another +girl, when the day 'ad come at last, would +'a' been wild wi' the joy an' the fear o' it.... But +Mary, she's sat on the fells +under the stars, an' windin' among the +sheep. D' ye mind the nights she's been +out like an old shepherd wi' t' sheep? D' +ye mind the nights when she was but a +lile 'un an' we found 'er out in the dawn +sleepin' snug again the side o' a fat ewe?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> 'Tis not like a weddin' day for +'er.... If she'd 'ad a new dress, now—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> I said to 'er would she like a +new dress; but she would have only the +old 'un cut an' shaped to be in the fashion.... Et +'as been a strange coortin', +an' 'twill be a strange life for 'em both, +I'm thinkin', for there seems no gladness +in 'er, nor never was, for she never was +foolish an' she never was young; but she +was always like there was a great weight +on 'er, so as she must be about the world +alone, but always she 'ave turned to the +little things an' the weak, an' always she +'ad some poor sick beast for tendin' or +another woman's babe to 'old to 'er breast, +an' I think sometimes that 'tis only because +Bill is a poor sick beast wi' a poor +sick soul that she be so set on 'im.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> 'E be a sodden beast wi' never a +soul to be saved or damned—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> 'Cept for the drink, 'e've been a +good son to 'is old mother when the others +'ud 'a' left 'er to rot i' the ditch, an' 'e +was the on'y one as 'ud raise a finger +again his father when the owd man, God +rest him, was on to 'er like a madman. +Drunk or sober 'e always was on 'is +mother's side.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> 'Twas a fearful 'ouse that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> 'Twas wonderful that for all +they did to 'er, that wild old man wi' 'is +wild young sons, she outlived 'em all, but +never a one could she save from the curse +that was on them, an', sober, they was +the likeliest men 'n Troutbeck....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> 'Tis when the rain comes and t' +clouds come low an' black on the fells and +the cold damp eats into a man's bones +that the fearful thoughts come to 'im that +must be drowned or 'im go mad—an' +only the foreigners like me or them as 'as +foreign blood new in 'em can 'old out +again it; 'tis the curse o' livin' too long +between two lines o' 'ills.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> An' what that owd woman could +never do, d'ye think our Mary'll do it? +'Im a Troutbeck man an' she a Troutbeck +girl?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> She've 'eld to 'er bargain an' +brought 'im to it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> There's things that a maid can +do that a wife cannot an' that's truth, +an' shame it is to the men. [<i>Comes a +knock at the door.</i>] 'Tisn't time for t' +weddin' folk.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tom goes to the window.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> Gorm. 'Tis Mrs. Airey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> T' owd woman. She that 'as not +been further than 'er garden-gate these +ten years?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes to the door, opens it to admit +Mrs. Airey, an old gaunt +woman just beginning to be bent +with age.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Good day to you, Tom Davis.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> Good day to you, Mrs. Airey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Good day to you, Ann Davis.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> Good day to you, Mrs. Airey. +Will ye sit down?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She dusts a chair and Mrs. Airey sits +by the fireside. She sits silent for +a long while. Tom and Ann look +uneasily at her and at each other.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> So 'tis all ready for Bill's +wedding.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> Ay. 'Tis a fine day, an' the folks +bid, and the sharry-bang got for to drive +to Coniston, all the party of us. Will ye +be coming, Mrs. Airey?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> I'll not. [<i>Mrs. Airey sits +silent again for long.</i>] Is Mary in the +'ouse?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> She be upstairs puttin' on 'er +weddin' dress.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> 'Tis the sad day of 'er life.... They're +a rotten lot an' who should +know et better than me? Bill's the best +of 'em, but Bill's rotten.... Six months +is not enough, nor six years nor sixty, +not while 'er stays in Troutbeck rememberin' +all that 'as been an' all the trouble +that was in the 'ouse along o' it, and so +I've come for to say it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> She growed up lovin' Bill, and +'tis a set thing. She've waited long years. +'Tis done now, an' what they make for +theirselves they make, an' 'tis not for us +to go speirin' for the trouble they may +make for theirselves, but only to pray that +it may pass them by....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> But 'tis certain.... Six +months is not enough, nor six years, nor +sixty—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> And are ye come for to tell +Mary this...?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> This and much more....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> And what 'ave ye said to Bill?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Nowt. There never was a +son would give 'eed to 'is mother.... 'Tisn't +for 'im I'm thinkin', but for t' +children that she's bear 'im. I 'oped, and +went on 'opin' till there was no 'ope left +in me, and I lived to curse the day that +each one of my sons was born. John and +Peter are dead an' left no child behind, +and it were better for Bill also to leave +no child behind. There's a day and 'alf +a day o' peace and content for a woman +with such a man, and there's long, long +years of thinkin' on the peace and content +that's gone. There's long, long years of +watching the child that you've borne and +suckled turn rotten, an' I say that t' +birth-pangs are nowt to t' pangs that ye +'ave from the childer of such a man as +Bill or Bill's father.... She's a strong +girl an' a good girl; but there's this that +is stronger than 'er.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mary comes again, very pretty in +her blue dress. She is at once sensible +of the strangeness in Tom and +Ann. She stands looking from one +to the other. Mrs. Airey sits gazing +into the fire.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> Why, mother ... 'tis kind of +you to come on this morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Ay, 'tis kind of me. [<i>Ann +steals away upstairs and Tom, taking the +lead from her, goes out into the road.</i>] +Come 'ere, my pretty.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mary goes and stands by her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> The sun is shining and the bees +all out and busy to gather in the honey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> 'Tis the bees as is t' wise people +to work away in t' dark when t' sun +is hidden, and to work away in t' sun +when 'tis bright and light. 'Tis the bees +as is t' wise people that takes their men +an' kills 'em for the 'arm that they may +do, and it's us that's the foolish ones to +make soft the way of our men an' let +them strut before us and lie; and 'tis us +that's the foolish ones ever to give a +thought to their needs that give never a +one to ours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> 'Tis us that's t' glorious ones +to 'elp them that is so weak, and 'tis us +that's the brave and the kind ones to let +them 'ave the 'ole world to play with +when they will give never a thought to us +that gives it t' 'em.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> My pretty, my pretty, there's +never a one of us can 'elp a man that +thinks 'isself a man an' strong, poor fool, +an' there's never a one of us can 'elp a +man that's got a curse on 'im and is rotten +through to t' bone, an' not one day can +you be a 'elp to such a man as this....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> There's not one day that I will +not try, and not one day that I will not +fight to win 'im back....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> The life of a woman is a sorrowful +thing....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> For all its sorrow, 'tis a greater +thing than t' life of a man ... an' so +I'll live it....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Now you're strong and you're +young.—'Ope's with ye still and life all +before ye—and so I thought when my +day came, and so I did. There was a +day and 'alf a day of peace and content, +and there was long, long years of thinking +on the peace and content that are +gone.... Four men all gone the same +road, and me left looking down the way +that they are gone and seeing it all black +as the pit.... I be a poor old woman +now with never a creature to come near +me in kindness, an' I was such a poor +old woman before ever the 'alf of life was +gone, an' so you'll be if you take my son +for your man. He's the best of my sons, +but I curse the day that ever he was +born....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> There was never a man the like +of Bill. If ye see 'un striding the 'ill, ye +know 'tis a man by 'is strong, long stride; +and if ye see 'un leapin' an' screein' down +th' 'ill, ye know 'tis a man; and if we see +'un in t' quarry, ye know 'tis a strong +man....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> An' if ye see 'un lyin' drunk +i' the ditch, not roarin' drunk, but rotten +drunk, wi' 'is face fouled an' 'is clothes +mucked, ye know 'tis the lowest creature +of the world.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mary stands staring straight in +front of her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> Is it for this that ye come to +me to-day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Ay, for this: that ye may send +'un back to 'is rottenness, for back to it +'e'll surely go when 'tis too late, an' you +a poor old woman like me, with never a +creature to come near ye in kindness, +before ever the bloom 'as gone from your +bonny cheeks, an' maybe childer that'll +grow up bonny an' then be blighted for +all the tenderness ye give to them; an' +those days will be the worst of all—far +worse than the day when ye turn for good +an' all into yourself from t' man that will +give ye nowt.... 'Tis truly the bees as +is the wise people....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> It's a weary waitin' that I've +had, and better the day and 'alf a day of +peace and content with all the long years +of thinking on it than all the long, long +years of my life to go on waitin' and +waitin' for what has passed me by, for +if he be the rottenest, meanest man in t' +world that ever was made, there is no +other that I can see or ever will. It is no +wild foolishness that I am doing: I never +was like that; but it's a thing that's +growed wi' me an' is a part o' me—an' +though every day o' my life were set before +me now so I could see to the very +end, an' every day sadder and blacker +than the last, I'd not turn back. I gave +'im the bargain, years back now, and +three times e' 'as failed me; but 'e sets +store by me enough to do this for me a +fourth time—'Twas kind of ye to come....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> You're strong an' you're +young, but there's this that's stronger +than yourself—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> Maybe, but 'twill not be for +want o' fightin' wi' 't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> 'Twill steal on ye when you're +weakest, an' come on ye in your greatest +need....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> It 'as come to this day an' there +is no goin' back. D' ye think I've not +seed t' soft, gentle things that are given +to other women, an' not envied them? +D' ye think I've not seed 'em walkin' +shut-eyed into all sorts o' foolishness an' +never askin' for the trewth o' it, an' not +envied 'em for doin' that? D' ye think +I've not seed the girls I growed wi' matin' +lightly an' lightly weddin', an' not envied +'em for that, they wi' a 'ouse an' babes an' +me drudgin' away in t' farm, me wi' my +man to 'and an' only this agin 'im? D' +ye think I've not been tore in two wi' +wantin' to close my eyes an' walk like +others into it an' never think what is to +come? There's many an' many a night +that I've sat there under t' stars wi' t' +three counties afore me an' t' sea, an' t' +sheep croppin', an' my own thoughts for +all the comp'ny that I 'ad, an' fightin' +this way an' that for to take 'up an' let +'un be so rotten, as ever 'e might be; an' +there's many an' many a night when the +thoughts come so fast that they hurt me +an' I lay pressed close to t' ground wi' +me 'ands clawin' at it an' me teeth bitin' +into t' ground for to get closer an' 'ide +from myself; an' many a night when I +sat there seein' the man as t' brave lad +'e was when I seed 'un first leapin' down +the 'ill, an' knowin' that nothin' in the +world, nothin' that I could do to 'un or +that 'e could do 'isself, would ever take +that fro' me.... In all my time o' my +weary waitin' there 'as never been a soul +that I told so much to, an' God knows +there never 'as been an' never will be a +time when I can tell as much to 'im....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> My pretty, my pretty, 'tis a +waste an' a wicked, wicked waste....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> 'Tis a day an' alf a day agin +never a moment....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> 'Tis that, and so 'tis wi' all +o' us ... an' so 'twill be.... God bless +ye, my dear....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Ann comes down. Mary is looking +out of the window.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> Ye forgot the ribbon for yer +'air, that I fetched 'specially fro' t' town.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> Why, yes. Will ye tie it, Ann?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Ann ties the ribbon in her hair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Pretty, my dear, oh! pretty—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> I'm to walk to t' church o' +Tom's arm...?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> An' I to Tom's left; wi' the +bridesmaids be'ind, an' the rest a followin'....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tom returns, followed by two girls +bringing armfuls of flowers. With +these they deck the room, and keep +the choicest blooms for Mary. +Ann and the three girls are busied +with making Mary reach her most +beautiful. Mrs. Airey goes. At +intervals one villager and another +comes to give greeting or to bring +some small offering of food or +some small article of clothing. +Mary thanks them all with rare +natural grace. They call her fine, +and ejaculate remarks of admiration: +"The purty bride...." "She's +beautiful...." "'Tis a +lucky lad, Bill Airey...." The +church bell begins to ring.... All +is prepared and all are ready.... Mary +is given her gloves, which she +draws on—when the door is +thrown open and Bill Airey lunges +against the lintel of the door and +stands leering. He is just sober +enough to know what he is at. He +is near tears, poor wretch. He is +not horribly drunk. He stands +surveying the group and they him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bill.</span> I come—I come—I—c-come +for to—to—to—show—to show myself....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He turns in utter misery and goes. +Mary plucks the flowers from her +bosom and lets them fall to the +ground; draws her gloves off her +hands and lets them fall. The bell +continues to ring.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_BABY_CARRIAGE" id="THE_BABY_CARRIAGE"></a>THE BABY CARRIAGE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Bosworth Crocker</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center"> +Copyright, 1920, by Bosworth Crocker.<br /> +All rights reserved.<br /> +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">The Baby Carriage</span> was originally produced by the Provincetown Players, New +York, February 14, 1919, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dorothy Miller.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney</span></td><td align='left'><i>Alice Dostetter.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span></td><td align='left'><i>W. Clay Hill.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Solomon Lezinsky</span></td><td align='left'><i>O. K. Liveright.</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Place</span>: <i>The Lezinsky Tailor Shop</i>.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>To-day</i>.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p>Application for the right of performing <span class="smcap">The Baby Carriage</span> must be made to Mr. +Bosworth Crocker, in care of the Society of American Dramatists and Composers, +148 West 45th Street, New York, or The Authors' League, Union Square, New York.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE BABY CARRIAGE</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Bosworth Crocker</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">The Scene</span> <i>is an ordinary tailor shop +two steps down from the sidewalk. +Mirror on one side. Equipment third +rate. Mrs. Solomon Lezinsky, alone in +the shop, is examining a torn pair of +trousers as Mrs. Rooney comes in.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>27 years old, medium +height and weight, dark, attractive. In +a pleased voice with a slight Yiddish +<ins class="correction" title="original reads 'accept'">accent</ins></i>]. Mrs. Rooney!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney</span> [<i>30 years old. A plump +and pretty Irish woman</i>]. I only ran in +for a minute to bring you these. [<i>Holds +up a pair of roller skates and a picture +book.</i>] Eileen's out there in the carriage. +[<i>Both women look out at the +baby-carriage in front of the window.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Bring her in, Mrs. +Rooney. Such a beautiful child—your +Eileen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Can't stop—where's +the kids?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> The janitress takes +them to the moving pictures with her Izzy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> You wouldn't believe +the things I've run across this day, packing. +[<i>Puts down the skates.</i>] I'm thinking +these skates'll fit one of your lads. +My Mickey—God rest his soul!—used +to tear around great on them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Fine, Mrs. Rooney! +[<i>Examines the skates.</i> But couldn't +you save them for Eileen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Sure, she'd be long +growing up to them and they be laying +by gathering the rust.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> My David and Julius +and Benny could die for joy with these +fine skates, I tell you, Mrs. Rooney.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Here's an old book +[<i>hands Mrs. Lezinsky the book</i>], but too +good to throw away entirely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>opens the book</i>]. Fine, +Mrs. Rooney! Such a book with pictures +in it! My Benny's wild for picture +books. Julius reads, reads—always +learning. Something wonderful, I tell +you. Just like the papa—my Solly +ruins himself with his nose always stuck +in the Torah.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> The Toro? 'Tis a book +I never heard tell of.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> The law and the +prophets—my Solly was meant to be a +rabbi once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> A rabbi?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> You know what a +rabbi is by us, Mrs. Rooney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Indeed, I know what a +rabbi is, Mrs. Lezinsky—a rabbi is a +Jewish priest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> You don't hate the +Jewish religion, Mrs. Rooney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Every one has a right to +their own religion. Some of us are born +Jewish—like you, Mrs. Lezinsky, and +some are born Catholics, like me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Catholics like you are +fine, Mrs. Rooney. Such a good neighbor! +A good customer, too! Why +should you move away now, Mrs. Rooney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> The air in the Bronx +will be fine for Eileen. 'Tis a great pity +you couldn't be moving there, yourself. +With the fresh air and the cheap rent, +'twould be great for yourself and the +boys—not to mention the baby that's +coming to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Thank God, that don't +happen for a little while yet. But in the +hottest weather—maybe—some Septembers—even +so late yet—ain't it, Mrs. +Rooney? Always trouble by us. Such +expense, too. The agent takes the rent +to-day. With Solly's eyes so bad it's a +blessing when we can pay the rent even. +And the gas bills! So much pants pressing! +See? They send us this already. +[<i>Shows a paper.</i>] A notice to pay right +away or they shut it off. Only ten days +overdue. Would you believe it, Mrs. +Rooney? Maybe we catch up a little next +month. It don't pay no longer, this business. +And soon now another mouth to +feed, and still my Solly sticks by his +learning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> But he can't be a rabbi +now, can he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> He can't be a rabbi +now, no more, Mrs. Rooney, but such a +pious man—my Solly. He must be a +poor tailor, but he never gives up his +learning—not for anything he gives that +up. Learning's good for my David and +Julius and Benny soon, but it's bad for +my Solly. It leaves him no eyes for the +business, Mrs. Rooney.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> And are the poor eyes +as bad as ever?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> How should his eyes +get better when he gives them no chance? +Always he should have an operation and +the operation—it don't help—maybe. +[<i>Mrs. Rooney turns to the door.</i>] Must +you go so quick, Mrs. Rooney? Now +you move away, I never see you any more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> The subway runs in +front of the house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> I tell you something, +Mrs. Rooney: Solly couldn't keep the shop +open without me. Sometimes his eyes go +back on him altogether. And he should +get an operation. But that costs something, +I tell you, Mrs. Rooney. The doctors +get rich from that. It costs something, +that operation. And then, sometimes, +may be it don't help.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> 'Tis too bad, altogether. +[<i>Looks at the baby-carriage.</i>] Wait a +minute, Mrs. Lezinsky. [<i>Starts out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>as Mrs. Rooney goes</i>]. +What is it, Mrs. Rooney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney</span> [<i>just outside the door, +calls out</i>]. Something else—I forgot. +'Tis out here in the carriage.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mrs. Lezinsky threads a needle and +begins to sew buttons on a lady's +coat. Mrs. Rooney comes back +carrying a small square package +wrapped in newspaper.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Here's something. +You'll like this, Mrs. Lezinsky. It belongs +to Eileen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>looking out at the child +in the carriage</i>]. Was her collar stitched +all right, Mrs. Rooney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> It was that. Fits her +coat perfect. See the new cap on her? +'Twas for her birthday I bought it. Three +years old now. Getting that big I can +feel the weight of her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Such a beautiful little +girl, Mrs. Rooney! And such stylish +clothes you buy for her. My David +should have a new suit from his papa's +right away now. Then we fix the old +one over for Julius. Maybe my Benny +gets a little good out of that suit too, +sometime. We couldn't afford to buy new +clothes. We should first get all the wear +out of the old ones. Yes, Mrs. Rooney. +Anyhow, boys! It don't so much matter. +But girls! Girls is different. And such +a beautiful little girl like Eileen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> She'll be spoilt on me +entirely—every one giving her her own +way. [<i>In a gush of mother-pride.</i>] 'Tis +the darling she is—anyhow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> O, Mrs. Rooney, I +could wish to have one just like her, I +tell you, such a beautiful little girl just +like her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Maybe you will, Mrs. +Lezinsky, maybe you will.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> She sleeps nice in that +baby-carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> 'Tis the last time she +sleeps in it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> The last time, what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Her pa'll be after buying +me a go-cart for her now we're moving. +'Tis destroying me—the hauling +that up and down stairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Such a gorgeous baby-carriage—all +fresh painted—white—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> It's fine for them that +likes it. As for me—I'm that tired of +dragging it, I'd rather be leaving it behind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>her face aglow</i>]. +What happens to that carriage, Mrs. +Rooney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> I'll be selling it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Who buys that carriage, +Mrs. Rooney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> More than one has +their eye on it, but I'll get my price. +Mrs. Cohen has spoke for it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> How much you ask +for that carriage, Mrs. Rooney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Sure, and I'd let it go +for a $5 bill, Mrs. Lezinsky.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>her face falls</i>]. Maybe +you get that $5 ... Mrs. Rooney. +Those Cohens make money by that stationery +business.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> And sure, the secondhand +man would pay me as much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>longingly</i>]. My David +and Julius and Benny—they never had +such a baby-carriage—in all their lives +they never rode in a baby-carriage. My +babies was pretty babies, too. And +smart, Mrs. Rooney! You wouldn't believe +it. My Benny was the smartest of +the lot. When he was 18 months old, he +puts two words together already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> He's a keener—that +one. [<i>Unwraps the package.</i>] I'm clean +forgetting the basket. [<i>Holds it out to +Mrs. Lezinsky's delighted gaze.</i>] Now +there you are—as good as new—Mrs. +Lezinsky—and when you do be sticking +the safety pins into the cushion [<i>she points +out the cushion</i>] you can mind my Eileen. +Some of the pinholes is rusty like, but +the pins'll cover it—that it was herself +gave your baby its first present.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> O, Mrs. Rooney, such +a beautiful basket! Such a beautiful, +stylish basket!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> And here's a box for the +powder. [<i>Opens a celluloid box and +takes out a powder puff.</i>] And here's +an old puff. Sure the puff will do if +you're not too particular.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>handling the things</i>]. +Why should I be so particular? In all +their lives my David and Julius and +Benny never had such a box and puff, I +tell you, Mrs. Rooney.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney</span> [<i>points</i>]. Them little +pockets is to stick things in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Should you give away +such a basket, Mrs. Rooney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> What good is it but to +clutter up the closet, knocking about in +my way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> My David and Julius +and Benny, they never had such a basket, +but my cousin, Morris Schapiro's wife,—she +had such a basket—for her baby. +All lined with pink it was.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Pink is for boys. I +wanted a girl, having Mickey then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Me, too, Mrs. Rooney. +Three boys! Now it's time it should be a +little girl. Yes, Mrs. Rooney. A little +girl like Eileen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Sure, then, if you're +going by the basket 'tis a little girl you +have coming to you. Blue's for girls.... A +comb and a brush for it—you can +buy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Combs and brushes! +What should I do with combs and +brushes? My David and Julius and +Benny are all born bald.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Sure, Eileen had the +finest head of curls was ever seen on a +baby—little soft yellow curls—like the +down on a bird.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> If I should have a +little girl—like your Eileen—my David +and Julius and Benny—they die for joy +over their little sister, I tell you, Mrs. +Rooney. Yes, it should be a girl and I +name her Eileen. Such pretty names for +girls: Eileen and Hazel and Gladys and +Goldie. Goldie's a pretty name, too. I +like that name so much I call myself +Goldie when I go to school. Gietel's my +Jewish name. Ugly? Yes, Mrs. Rooney? +Goldie's better—much better. But +Eileen's the best of all. Eileen's a gorgeous +name. I name her Eileen, I do assure +you. She should have another name, +too, for Solly. Zipporah, maybe—for +her dead grandmother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Sure, Eileen has a +second name: Bridget. 'Tis for my +mother in the old country. A saint's +name. Her father chose it for her. +Bridget's a grand name—that—too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Zipporah—that was +Solly's mother.... But I call her Eileen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> That's a grand compliment, +Mrs. Lezinsky, and 'tis myself would +stand godmother for her should you be +wanting me to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> I'm sorry, Mrs. +Rooney, by our religion we don't have +such god-mothers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> I'll be running on now +not to keep you from your work and so +much of it with your poor man and the +drops in his sick eyes. Here! [<i>She puts +half a dollar into Mrs. Lezinsky's hand.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> For what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> For Mr. Lezinsky +stitching the collar on Eileen's coat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>trying to make Mrs. +Rooney take it back</i>]. Mrs. Rooney—if +you wouldn't insult me—please—when +you bring all these lovely things.... +[<i>Mrs. Rooney pushes the money +away.</i>] And so you sell that fine baby-carriage.... +That carriage holds my +Benny, too, maybe?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Sure. Easy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> My David and Julius—they +could wheel that carriage. The +little sister sleeps in it. And my Benny—he +rides at the foot. $5 is cheap for +that elegant carriage when you should +happen to have so much money. I ask +my Solly. Do me the favor, Mrs. Rooney—you +should speak to me first before +you give it to Mrs. Cohen—yes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Sure I will. I'll be leaving +the carriage outside and carry the +child up. You and Mr. Lezinsky can be +making up your minds. [<i>Mrs. Rooney +looks through the window at a man turning +in from the street.</i>] Is it himself +coming home?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Any time now, Mrs. +Rooney, he comes from the doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> 'Tis not himself. 'Tis +some customer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>as the door opens</i>]. +It's Mr. Rosenbloom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> See you later. [<i>Rushes +out. Through the window Mrs. Lezinsky +watches her take the child out of the +carriage.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>sighs, turns to her customer</i>]. +O, Mr. Rosenbloom! Glad to +see you, Mr. Rosenbloom. You well now, +Mr. Rosenbloom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> Able to get around +once more, Mrs. Lezinsky.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> I hope you keep that +way. You got thinner with your sickness. +You lose your face, Mr. Rosenbloom. +[<i>He hands her a coat and a pair of +trousers.</i>] Why should you bother to +bring them in? I could send my David +or Julius for them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> Right on my way +to the barber-shop. The coat's a little +loose now. [<i>Slips off his coat and puts +on the other.</i>] Across the back. See?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> He should take it in +a little on the shoulders, Mr. Rosenbloom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span> [<i>considers</i>]. It +wouldn't pay—so much alterations for +this particular suit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> It's a good suit, Mr. +Rosenbloom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> He should just +shorten the sleeves. Those sleeves were +from the first a little too long.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He slips the coat off. Mrs. Lezinsky +measures coat sleeve against his +bent arm.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> About how much, Mr. +Rosenbloom? Say—an inch?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> An inch or an inch +and a half—maybe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>measures again</i>]. I +think that makes them too short, Mr. +Rosenbloom. One inch is plenty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> All right—one +inch, then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> One inch.... All +right, Mr. Rosenbloom—one inch.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> How soon will they +be ready?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Maybe to-morrow. +He lets all this other work go—maybe—and +sets to work on them right away +when he gets back home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> All right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> I send my David or +Julius with them, Mr. Rosenbloom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> I'll stop in the evening +and try the coat on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Maybe it wouldn't be +ready to try on so soon—All right, Mr. +Rosenbloom, this evening you come in. +[<i>She calls after him as he goes out.</i>] O, +Mr. Rosenbloom! The pants? What +should he do to the pants?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span> [<i>from the doorway</i>]. +Press them. [<i>He turns back.</i>] Press +the—whole thing—suit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Press them. Sure. +Press the suit. A fine suit. Certainly a +fine piece of goods, Mr. Rosenbloom. +Did my husband make it up for you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> I thought so. Wears +like iron, too, this goods. Yes, Mr. +Rosenbloom? With one eye my husband +picks the best pieces of goods I tell you, +Mr. Rosenbloom.... He should shorten +the sleeves one inch.... All right, he +fixes it to your satisfaction, Mr. Rosenbloom—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> Yes, yes. [<i>Impatiently +edges toward the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> This evening you come +for them?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He nods and hurries out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Five dollars! [<i>Drops +everything and stands looking dreamily +through the shop window at the baby-carriage. +She takes a roll of money from +her bosom and counts it. Shakes her +head dispiritedly and sighs. She makes +an estimate of the money coming in from +the work on hand. Pointing to Mr. +Rosenbloom's suit.</i>] Two dollars for +that—[<i>Turns from the suit to a pair +of torn trousers.</i>] Half a dollar, anyhow—[<i>Points +to the lady's coat on +which she has been sewing buttons.</i>] A +dollar—maybe—[<i>Hears some one coming, +thrusts the roll of money back into +her bosom.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>comes in. Spare. Medium +height. Pronounced Semitic type. He +wears glasses with very thick lenses.</i>] +Where are the children?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Mrs. Klein takes them +to the moving pictures with her Izzy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Always to the moving pictures! +The children go blind, too, pretty +soon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> The doctor didn't +make your eyes no better, Solly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> How should he make them +better when he says all the time: "Don't +use them." And all the time a man must +keep right on working to put bread in the +mouths of his children. And soon, now, +another one comes—nebbich!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Maybe your eyes get +much better now when our little Eileen +comes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Better a boy, Goldie: that +helps more in the business.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> It's time our David +and Julius and Benny should have a +little sister now. They like that. Such +another little girl like Mrs. Rooney's +Eileen. When it is, maybe, a girl, we call +her Eileen—like Mrs. Rooney's Eileen. +Such a gorgeous name—that Eileen! +Yes, Solly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Eileen! A Goy name! +She should be Rebecca for your mother +or Zipporah for mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Sure. Zipporah, too, +Solly—Eileen Zipporah! When there +should be sometime—another boy, Solly, +then you name him what you like. When +it a little girl—Eileen. I dress her up +stylish. Such beautiful things they have +in Gumpertz's window. And—Mrs. +Rooney sells her baby-carriage. [<i>Both +look out at the carriage.</i>] She gives it +away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> She gives you a baby-carriage?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> For five dollars she +gives me that lovely carriage good as new—all +fresh painted white—and the little +Eileen Zipporah sleeps at the head and +Benny rides at the foot by his little sister. +So elegant—Solly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> I put my eyes out to earn +the bread and this woman—she should +buy a baby-carriage. Oi! Oi!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>points to carriage</i>]. +Such a baby-carriage what Mrs. Rooney +has—it only happens to us once, Solly. +Only five one-dollars—all fresh painted +white—just like new—and such a cover +to keep out the sun. She gets a little +new go-cart for Eileen. Otherwise she +don't give up such an elegant carriage +what cost her more money than we could +even see at one time except for rents and +gas-bills. Five dollars is cheap for that +carriage. Five dollars is nothing for that +carriage I tell you, Solly. Nothing at +all. She sells it now before she moves +to the Bronx this afternoon. Such a bargain +we shouldn't lose, Solly—even if +we don't pay all the money right away +down. Yes, Solly? And Mrs. Rooney—she +gives our David and Julius and Benny +skates and a picture book—and their +little sister this fine basket. [<i>Shows him +the basket.</i>] Yes, Solly. Shouldn't we +make sure to buy this baby-carriage? +Only five dollars, Solly, this baby-carriage—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Baby-carriage! Baby-carriage! +If I had so much money for +baby-carriages I hire me a cutter here. +This way I go blind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> No, but by reading +the Torah! And that way you lose good +custom, too. [<i>Wheedling him again.</i>] +Maybe you get good business and hire +you a cutter when the little Eileen comes. +Five dollars! Does that pay wages to +a cutter? Yes, Solly? But it buys once +a beautiful baby-carriage, and David +and Julius go wild to ride their little +sister in it—and Benny at the foot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>waving his arms</i>]. I should +have a cutter not to lose my customers—and +this woman—she would have a +baby-carriage. I lose my eyes, but she +would have a baby-carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> But it costs only five +dollars. What costs a cutter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> At Union wages! I might +as well ask for the moon, Goldie. Oi! +Oi! Soon we all starve together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> You hire you a cheap +hand here, Solly. He does pressing and +all the dirty work. He works and you +boss him around. That looks good to +the customers. Yes, Solly? And I save +up that five dollars soon and give it back +to you. Yes, Solly? Business goes better +now already when people come back +from the country and everything picks +up a little. I help now and we spare +that five dollars. Mr. Rosenbloom brings +us a little work. See? [<i>She points to +the coat.</i>] You should make the sleeves +shorter—one inch. Mr. Rosenbloom gets +thinner by his sickness. His clothes hang +a little loose on him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>looks at the trousers</i>]. And +the pants?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Mr. Rosenbloom didn't +lose his stomach by his sickness. He only +loses his face.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Such a <i>chutzpah</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Yes, nothing makes +Mr. Rosenbloom to lose his cheek, ain't +it, Solly? And plenty roast goose has +he to fill up his stomach. By us is no +more roast goose nowadays.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> We make up what we didn't +get here maybe in the world to come, +Goldie <i>leben</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Roast goose in the +world to come! Such a business! +Angels shouldn't eat, Solly. I take my +roast goose now—then I sure get it.... How +much you charge Mr. Rosenbloom +for this [<i>points to the suit</i>], Solly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> One dollar and a half—maybe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> For such a job my +cousin Morris Schapiro gets three dollars +and not too dear then. Everything goes +'way up and you stay 'way behind. You +should raise your prices. No wonder we +shall all starve together. It's not baby-carriages +what ruin us. Did our David +or Julius or Benny ever have such a baby-carriage? +No. But it is that you let +the customers steal your work.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> All right—I charge two +dollars.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> What good should +half a dollar do? Three dollars, Solly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Two dollars. Three dollars +swindles him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> All right—then two +dollars. Fifty cents is fifty cents anyhow. +[<i>She goes up to him and presses +her face against his.</i>] Solly, leben, +shouldn't our David and Julius and +Benny have a baby-carriage for their +little sister?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Baby-carriage—Oi! Peace, +Goldie, my head aches.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>picking up the trousers</i>]. +How much for these, Solly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> One dollar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>derisively</i>]. One dollar +you say! And for the lady's coat?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> A couple of dollars, anyway.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> A couple of dollars +anyway! And he thinks he does good +business when he charges a couple of +dollars anyway. And for that, my cousin, +Morris Schapiro charges three dollars +each. A couple of dollars! Your children +will be left without bread. [<i>He +mutters phrases from the Torah.</i>] You +hear me, Solly? [<i>He goes on with his +prayers.</i>] Prayers are what he answers +me. Soon you pray in the streets.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Woe is me! Woe is me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Could he even answer +me? Yes, if it was roast goose I was +asking for or black satin for a decent +<i>Shabbos</i> dress. But no! [<i>Satirically.</i>] +Maybe you even get roast goose from +your learning.... Yes—on account of +your praying we all have to go a begging +yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> To-morrow is <i>Rosch Hoschana</i>, +Gietel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Does <i>Rosch Hoschana</i> +mean a roast goose by us? Does it even +mean a baby-carriage what costs five +dollars?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Roast goose and baby-carriage! +You have no pious thoughts.... Go +away.... My head swims.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> That comes by fasting. +Don't you fast enough every day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> She comes now to roast +goose again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> What should I care +for roast goose? <i>Rosch Hoschana</i> comes +next year again. But the baby-carriage—it +never comes again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Baby-carriage! Baby-carriage! +When you should fast and pray....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> What! Should I fast +and give our David and Julius and Benny +a shadow—maybe—for a little sister?... +But—yes—I fast, too ... that—even—for +such a baby carriage. O, +Solly—that much we all do—for our +little Eileen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>wearily, putting his hands +to his eyes</i>]. All right. How much +money have you got there—Gietel?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>sweetly</i>]. Now call +me Goldie, Solly, so I know you ain't +mad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Yes, yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Goldie—say it—Solly +leben—Go on—count it—Goldie. +[<i>She takes the money out and they count +it together.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. and Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>together</i>]. +One.... [<i>Counting out another dollar +bill</i>]—Two.... [<i>Counting out a third +dollar bill</i>]—Three.... [<i>Counting out +a two-dollar bill</i>]—Five dollars.... [<i>Another +two-dollar bill</i>]—Seven dollars.... [<i>A +ten-dollar bill</i>]—Seventeen.... [<i>Another +ten-dollar bill</i>]—Twenty-seven.... [<i>The +last ten-dollar bill</i>]—Thirty-seven.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Thirty-seven dollars in all—the +rent and the gas!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> And a little over, +Solly, to pay on the baby carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> And to-morrow <i>Rosch +Hoschana</i>. Shall we starve the children +on Rosch Hoschana?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> They could go a little +hungry once for their little sister, +Eileen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Don't be too sure, Goldie, +maybe another boy comes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Well, even if—it +needs the fresh air, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>firmly after a moment's +thought</i>]. No, Goldie, it couldn't be +done. In the spring we buy a baby-carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> You think she waits +till spring to sell that baby-carriage? +She sells it now before she moves away—now, +this afternoon, I tell you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Well, we buy another carriage, +then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> You don't find such +a bargain again anytime. She gives it +away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> My eyes get much better +soon—now—by the operation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Operation! Operation! +Always operations! And the baby +comes. No carriage for our David and +Julius to wheel her in—with our Benny +at the foot—in the fresh air—and she +dies on us in the heat next summer—maybe—and +David and Julius and +Benny—they lose their little sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Didn't David and Julius +and Benny live without a baby-carriage?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Yes, a mile to the +park, maybe, and I carry them to the +fresh air. And a baby-carriage for her +costs five dollars. What time shall I +have for that with all the extra work +and my back broken? In such a baby-carriage +the little sister sleeps from morning +to night—on the sidewalk by the +stoop; she gets fat and healthy from that +baby-carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> When I could pay for the +operation, maybe—then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>despairingly</i>]. Operations +again—always operations!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Go away, Goldie, I must +work.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> I advise you not to +have that operation now. He steals your +money and don't help your eyes. Get +another doctor. But baby-carriages like +this ain't so plenty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> God of Israel, shall I go +blind because you would have a baby-carriage +for our unborn son?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> No, but by reading +the Torah—and that way you lose good +customers, too—and she shall die in the +heat because David and Julius cannot +push her in that baby-carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Go away, Gietel, I have +work to do. Maybe you could rip out +the sleeves from Mr. Rosenbloom's coat?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> I do anything—anything +you like, Solly, for that baby-carriage.... Yes, +I rip out the sleeves +when I finish sewing on the buttons.... I +do anything—anything—so we get +this baby carriage. We never get another +such carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> God of Israel, will she +never hear me when I say: No!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Then—Mrs. Cohen—she +gets that baby carriage—and +every day of my life I see it go past my +window—and the little sister—she goes +without. [<i>She picks up Mr. Rosenbloom's +coat, looks it over and finds a +small wallet in the breast pocket. Tucks +the wallet into her bosom. Fiercely, half-aloud, +but to herself.</i>] No! No! Mrs. +Cohen shouldn't get that baby-carriage—whatever +happens—she shouldn't get it. +[<i>She crosses to the mirror, pulls the +wallet from her bosom, hurriedly counts +the money in it, glances at her husband, +then takes out a five-dollar bill. She +hears a noise outside and makes a move +as though to restore the money to the +wallet, but at the sound of steps on the +stoop, she thrusts the loose bill into her +bosom. As Mr. Rosenbloom comes in +she has only time to stick the wallet back +into the coat. Picks up the lady's coat +and sews on buttons vigorously.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> I left my wallet in +that coat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>with a motion of his head +toward the coat</i>]. Goldie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>sewing the buttons +onto the lady's coat</i>]. In which pocket, +Mr. Rosenbloom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span> [<i>crosses to coat</i>]. +You don't begin work on it, yet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>slowly puts her work +aside</i>]. I rip the sleeves out so soon I +sew these buttons on, Mr. Rosenbloom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span> [<i>looks in breast +pocket, draws back in astonishment to +find the wallet gone.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> In which pocket, Mr. +Rosenbloom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> I keep it always in +that breast pocket.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>taking the wallet from +an outside pocket</i>]. Why—here it is, +Mr. Rosenbloom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span> [<i>suspiciously</i>]. From +which pocket does it come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>points</i>]. Right here, +Mr. Rosenbloom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span> [<i>shakes his head</i>]. I +don't see how it got in that pocket.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> We didn't touch that +coat, Mr. Rosenbloom—except Solly +looks when I told him what he should do +to it—ain't it, Solly? Otherwise we +didn't touch it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span> [<i>opens the wallet</i>]. +Funny! It couldn't walk out of one +pocket into another all by itself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> We didn't touch it, +Mr. Rosenbloom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span> [<i>begins to count the +bills</i>]. Maybe some customer—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> That may be—all +kinds of customers, Mr. Rosenbloom—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>as Mr. Rosenbloom goes +over the money for the second time.</i>] +But it hangs here always in our sight. +Who has been here, Goldie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> There's a bill missing +here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>pretending great astonishment</i>]. +Mr. Rosenbloom!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>with an accusing note in his +tone, meant for her only</i>]. Gietel?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> How should I know? +[<i>To Mr. Rosenbloom.</i>] Maybe you didn't +count it right. [<i>He counts it again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> No—it's short—$5.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>under his breath, looking +strangely at his wife.</i>] Mr. Rosenbloom, +however that happens—I make up that +$5. Such a thing shouldn't happen in +my business. I make it up right away. +Gietel!—Gietel—give me the money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>in a trembling voice</i>]. +I didn't—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>checks her</i>]. I pay you +from my own money, Mr. Rosenbloom.... Gietel! +[<i>He puts out his hand for +the money.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> All right, Solly.... [<i>Turns +her back to Mr. Rosenbloom and +pulls the roll of money from her bosom, +thrusting the loose bill back. Solomon, +standing over her, sees this bill and puts +out his hand for it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>in a tense undertone</i>]. All—Gietel—all!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Reluctantly she draws the $5 bill +from her bosom and, seizing a moment +when Mr. Rosenbloom is recounting +his money, she thrusts it +quickly into her husband's hand.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>he crosses to Mr. Rosenbloom +and counts out the five dollars +from the bills in the roll.</i>] One dollar—two +dollars—three dollars—and two is +five dollars. [<i>Hands it to Mr. Rosenbloom.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span> [<i>hesitates</i>]. You +shouldn't be out that $5, Mr. Lezinsky. +Anyhow—pay me the difference when +you charge for the suit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> No, Mr. Rosenbloom—if +you take the money now, please.... I +couldn't rest—otherwise. In all my life—this—never—happened—before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom</span> [<i>takes the money</i>]. +Well, if you want it that way, Mr. Lezinsky.... You +have the suit ready this +evening anyhow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> You get the suit this evening, +Mr. Rosenbloom. I stop everything +else.... And I don't charge you anything +for this work, Mr. Rosenbloom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> Of course, you +charge. "Don't charge"! What kind +of business is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> I make you a present, Mr. +Rosenbloom—for your trouble.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Rosenbloom.</span> I pay you for these +alterations, all right. [<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>searches his wife's face, +with ominous calm</i>]. Gietel! Gietel!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> You make presents, +eh, Solly? Are you a rabbi or a poor +blind tailor—yes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>bursts out</i>]. She makes a +mock at me—this shameless one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> No, no, Solly—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>scathingly</i>]. Gietel!... +[<i>His eyes never leave her face.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>in a hushed voice</i>]. +Why do you look at me like that, Solly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Blind as I am, I see too +much, Gietel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Listen, Solly—I tell +you now—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky</span> [<i>silences her with a wave of +his hand.</i>] What I get I give—[<i>He +takes the five-dollar bill from his pocket, +smooths it out and adds it to the roll.</i>] +I give my money. I give my eyes ... +and this woman—she sells me for a baby-carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> No, no, Solly, you +shouldn't say such things before you +know—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Silence, woman! How +should I not know? It is here in my +hand—the five-dollar bill—here in my +hand. I have counted the money. +Thirty-seven dollars we had. I have +given him back his five and thirty-seven +dollars remain. How is that, Gietel? +What is the answer to that?... She +cheats the customer and she cheats me.... +Rather should I take my children +by the hand and beg my bread from door +to door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Solly—Solly—I tell +you—the baby-carriage—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Out of my sight, woman; +I forbid you to come into this shop again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> O, Solly <i>leben</i>, that +couldn't be—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> The mother of my children—she +sins—for a baby-carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> Listen, Solly—I +didn't mean to keep that money. As +there's a God of Israel I didn't mean to +keep it. I should use it—just this afternoon—to +buy the baby-carriage—and +when the customers pay us—put the +money back before he misses it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Meshugge! So much money +isn't coming to us. And why should you +use Mr. Rosenbloom's money? Why +shouldn't you take it from the money you +had?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> How could I use that +money? Don't you pay the rent this +afternoon to the agent? And they shut +off the gas when we don't settle: by five +o'clock they shut it off. And Mrs. +Rooney moves away—[<i>Breaks into sobbing.</i>] +and so—I thought I lose the baby-carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Gietel—Gietel—you are a——. +I can't speak the word, Gietel—It +sticks in my throat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> No, no, Solly, you +shouldn't speak that word. If I took it +to keep it maybe. But—no. I couldn't +do such a thing. Not for a million baby-carriages +could I do such a thing. Not +for anything could I keep what is not my +own—I tell you, Solly.... [<i>Pleadingly.</i>] +But just to keep it for a few +hours, maybe? Why should a man with +so much money miss a little for a few +hours? Then Mr. Rosenbloom—he comes +back in. I change my mind, but the door +opens and it is too late already. Solly +leben, did I keep it back—the five dollars? +I ask you, Solly? Didn't I give it +all into your hand? I ask you that, Solly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> Woe is me!—The mother +of my children—and she takes what is +not her own!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> So much money and +not one dollar to pay Mrs. Rooney for the +baby-carriage! You see, Solly—always +fine-dressed people around—the mamas +and the little children all dressed fine—with +white socks and white shoes. And +our David—and our Julius—and our +Benny, even—what <i>must</i> they wear? +Old clothes! Yes. And to save the +money they should wear black stockings—and +old shoes. Never no pretty +things! And it's all the time work—work—work +and we never have nothing—no +new clothes—no pretty things—[<i>She +breaks down completely.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> So our children grow up +with the fear of God in their hearts—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> What should little +children know of all this pious business +when they must play alone on the stoop +with Izzi Klein together. For why? +The Cohen children shouldn't play with +our David and Julius and Benny. They +make a snout at them. The Cohens dress +them up stylish and they should play +with Gentile children. They push my +Benny in the stomach when he eats an +ice-cream cone, and they say—regular—to +my David and Julius: "Sheeny"—the +same as if they wasn't Jewish, too.... Just +for once I wanted something +lovely and stylish—like other people +have.... Then she asks—only five dollars +for the baby-carriage—and—[<i>Choking +back a sob.</i>] Mrs. Cohen—now, +Mrs. Cohen—she gets it. She gets +it and I must want—and want. First +David—then Julius—then comes Benny—and +now the little sister—and never +once a baby-carriage! [<i>Sobs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lezinsky.</span> We should raise our children +to be pious.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is the sound of trundling +wheels. Mrs. Lezinsky looks out. +The carriage is gone from the window.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>as the door opens and +Mrs. Rooney appears wheeling the carriage +in, low voices</i>]. Mrs. Rooney, +Solly; she comes now to say good-by. +[<i>Mops her eyes, trys to put on a casual +look.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Now there you are, Mrs. +Lezinsky, blanket and all.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lezinsky works feverishly without +lifting his eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>low appealing voice</i>]. +You should look at it once, Solly. +[<i>Lezinsky stops for a moment and lets +his eyes rest on the baby-carriage.</i>] +Ain't it a beautiful, stylish baby-carriage, +Solly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> There it is now and I'll +be running on for Mrs. Klein's Anna's +keeping Eileen and I have her to dress +before her pa comes home. He's getting +off earlier for the moving.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> The little Eileen! +Why didn't you bring her along with +you, Mrs. Rooney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> She went to sleep on +me or I would that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>her eyes on her husband's +face in mute appeal</i>]. O, Mrs. +Rooney—so little business and so much +expense—and my Solly has an operation +for his sick eyes soon—it breaks +my heart—but—Mrs. Cohen [<i>Shaking +voice.</i>] <i>she</i> gets this lovely baby carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney</span> [<i>taking in the situation</i>]. +Mrs. Cohen—<i>she</i> gets it! Does she now? +Not if my name's Rooney does Mrs. +Cohen get it and she only after offering +to raise me a dollar to make sure of the +baby-carriage, knowing your sore need of +the same. Am I a lady or not, Mr. +Lezinsky? 'Tis that I want to know. +"I'll give you six dollars for it," says she +to me. Says I to her: "Mrs. Cohen—when +I spoke to you of that baby-carriage," +says I, "it clean slipped me mind +that I promised the same to Mrs. Lezinsky. +I promised it to Mrs. Lezinsky long +ago," says I—and so I did, though I +forget to make mention of it to you at +the time, Mrs. Lezinsky. So here it is +and here it stays or my name's not +Rooney.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> But so much money +we haven't got now—not even for the +operation, Mrs. Rooney.... [<i>Soft pleading +undertone to her husband.</i>] Only +five dollars, Solly!... [<i>Sinking her +voice still lower.</i>] Anyhow—I don't deserve +no baby-carriage—maybe—[<i>Lezinsky +makes no sign.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> If we could possibly +pay for that baby-carriage we keep it, +Mrs. Rooney—[<i>Turns back to her husband, +voice shakes.</i>] for our Benny and +the little sister—yes, Solly? [<i>She waits +and watches him with mute appeal, then, +forcing herself to speak casually.</i>] But +it couldn't be done, Mrs. Rooney—[<i>Bravely.</i>] +Solly should have every dollar +for that operation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> There now—no more +about it! 'Tis your own from this day +out.... You can take your own time +to be paying for it.... I'll be wanting +some work done anyhow—when the cold +weather sets in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>between tears and +laughter</i>]. Solly!... Ain't it wonderful? +Mrs. Rooney—she trusts us—for +this beautiful baby-carriage!... O, Mrs. +Rooney!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> 'Tis little enough to be +doing for my godchild that could be was +she born a Catholic now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> O, Mrs. Rooney, dear +Mrs. Rooney! Solly, Solly, we should +have a baby-carriage at last! At last we +should have a baby-carriage. O, Solly, +Solly, what a mitzvah! Yes, Solly? [<i>As +Mrs. Rooney starts to leave.</i>] But your +blanket—Mrs. Rooney—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> I'll be throwing that in—for +good luck.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> It breaks my heart +you move away, Mrs. Rooney.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> See you soon. [<i>Opens +the door; looks up the street as she stands +in the doorway.</i>] Here's the kids coming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky.</span> My David and Julius +and Benny, they could die for joy to +wheel their little sister in this baby-carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Rooney.</span> Well, good luck—the +both of you—and good-by! [<i>With a +sense of pride in the greater prosperity +which the new address means to her.</i>] +Three thousand and thirty-seven Jerome +Avenue—don't forget!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lezinsky</span> [<i>bending over the baby-carriage</i>]. +Good-by, Mrs. Rooney—next +time you come, maybe you see her +in the baby-carriage. [<i>Soothing the +blanket</i>]—the little Eileen! [<i>Turns to +her husband as the door closes.</i>] Yes, +Solly?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They look at each other in silence +for a moment.—She puts out her +hands imploringly. His face softens; +he lays his hand on her shoulder +as the three little boys, David, +Julius and Benny pass by the window. +As they come into the shop</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><i>the Curtain Falls.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_PIERROT_OF_THE_MINUTE" id="THE_PIERROT_OF_THE_MINUTE"></a>THE PIERROT OF THE MINUTE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Dramatic Fantasy</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Ernest Dowson</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"> +A Moon Maiden.<br /> +Pierrot. +</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE PIERROT OF THE MINUTE</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Dramatic Fantasy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Ernest Dowson</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A glade in the Parc du Petit +Trianon. In the center a Doric temple +with steps coming down the stage. On +the left a little Cupid on a pedestal. +Twilight.</i></p> + +<p><i>Enter Pierrot with his hands full of +lilies. He is burdened with a little +basket. He stands gazing at the Temple +and the Statue.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +My journey's end! This surely is the glade<br /> +Which I was promised: I have well obeyed!<br /> +A clue of lilies was I bid to find,<br /> +Where the green alleys most obscurely wind;<br /> +Where tall oaks darkliest canopy o'erhead,<br /> +And moss and violet make the softest bed;<br /> +Where the path ends, and leagues behind me lie<br /> +The gleaming courts and gardens of Versailles;<br /> +The lilies streamed before me, green and white;<br /> +I gathered, following: they led me right,<br /> +To the bright temple and the sacred grove:<br /> +This is, in truth, the very shrine of Love!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He gathers together his flowers and +lays them at the foot of Cupid's +statue; then he goes timidly up the +first steps of the temple and stops.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +It is so solitary, I grow afraid.<br /> +Is there no priest here, no devoted maid?<br /> +Is there no oracle, no voice to speak,<br /> +Interpreting to me the word I seek?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A very gentle music of lutes floats +out from the temple. Pierrot +starts back; he shows extreme surprise; +then he returns to the foreground, +and crouches down in rapt +attention until the music ceases. +His face grows puzzled and petulant.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Too soon! too soon! in that enchanting strain<br /> +Days yet unlived, I almost lived again:<br /> +It almost taught me that I most would know—<br /> +Why am I here, and why am I Pierrot?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Absently he picks up a lily which +has fallen to the ground, and repeats.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Why came I here, and why am I Pierrot?<br /> +That music and this silence both affright;<br /> +Pierrot can never be a friend of night.<br /> +I never felt my solitude before—<br /> +Once safe at home, I will return no more.<br /> +Yet the commandment of the scroll was plain;<br /> +While the light lingers let me read again.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He takes a scroll from his bosom and reads.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +"He loves to-night who never loved before;<br /> +Who ever loved, to-night shall love once more."<br /> +I never loved! I know not what love is.<br /> +I am so ignorant—but what is this?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Reads.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +"Who would adventure to encounter Love<br /> +Must rest one night within this hallowed grove.<br /> +Cast down thy lilies, which have led thee on,<br /> +Before the tender feet of Cupidon."<br /> +Thus much is done, the night remains to me.<br /> +Well, Cupidon, be my security!<br /> +Here is more writing, but too faint to read.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He puzzles for a moment, then casts +the scroll down.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Hence, vain old parchment. I have learnt thy rede!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He looks round uneasily, starts at +his shadow; then discovers his +basket with glee. He takes out a +flask of wine, pours it into a glass, +and drinks.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Courage <i>mon Ami</i>! I shall never miss<br /> +Society with such a friend as this.<br /> +How merrily the rosy bubbles pass,<br /> +Across the amber crystal of the glass.<br /> +I had forgotten you. Methinks this quest<br /> +Can wake no sweeter echo in my breast.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Looks round at the statue, and starts.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Nay, little god! forgive. I did but jest.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He fills another glass, and pours it +upon the statue.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +This libation, Cupid, take,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With the lilies at thy feet;</span><br /> +Cherish Pierrot for their sake,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Send him visions strange and sweet,</span><br /> +While he slumbers at thy feet.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Only love kiss him awake!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Only love kiss him awake!</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Slowly falls the darkness, soft music +plays, while Pierrot gathers together +fern and foliage into a rough +couch at the foot of the steps which +lead to the Temple d'Amour. +Then he lies down upon it, having +made his prayer. It is night. He +speaks softly.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Music, more music, far away and faint:<br /> +It is an echo of mine heart's complaint.<br /> +Why should I be so musical and sad?<br /> +I wonder why I used to be so glad?<br /> +In single glee I chased blue butterflies,<br /> +Half butterfly myself, but not so wise,<br /> +For they were twain, and I was only one.<br /> +Ah me! how pitiful to be alone.<br /> +My brown birds told me much, but in mine ear<br /> +They never whispered this—I learned it here:<br /> +The soft wood sounds, the rustling in the breeze,<br /> +Are but the stealthy kisses of the trees.<br /> +Each flower and fern in this enchanted wood<br /> +Leans to her fellow, and is understood;<br /> +The eglantine, in loftier station set,<br /> +Stoops down to woo the maidly violet.<br /> +In gracile pairs the very lilies grow:<br /> +None is companionless except Pierrot.<br /> +Music, more music! how its echoes steal<br /> +Upon my senses with unlooked for weal.<br /> +Tired am I, tired, and far from this lone glade<br /> +Seems mine old joy in rout and masquerade.<br /> +Sleep cometh over me, now will I prove,<br /> +By Cupid's grace, what is this thing called love.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sleeps.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is more music of lutes for an +interval, during which a bright +radiance, white and cold, streams +from the temple upon the face of +Pierrot. Presently a Moon Maiden +steps out of the temple; she descends +and stands over the sleeper.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +Who is this mortal<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who ventures to-night</span><br /> +To woo an immortal?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cold, cold the moon's light,</span><br /> +For sleep at this portal,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bold lover of night.</span><br /> +Fair is the mortal<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In soft, silken white,</span><br /> +Who seeks an immortal.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ah, lover of night,</span><br /> +Be warned at the portal,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And save thee in flight!</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stoops over him; Pierrot stirs +in his sleep.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot</span> [<i>murmuring</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Forget not, Cupid. Teach me all thy lore:<br /> +"<i>He loves to-night who never loved before.</i>"<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Unwitting boy! when, be it soon or late,<br /> +What Pierrot ever has escaped his fate?<br /> +What if I warned him! He might yet evade,<br /> +Through the long windings of this verdant glade;<br /> +Seek his companions in the blither way,<br /> +Which, else, must be as lost as yesterday.<br /> +So might he still pass some unheeding hours<br /> +In the sweet company of birds and flowers.<br /> +How fair he is, with red lips formed for joy,<br /> +As softly curved as those of Venus' boy.<br /> +Methinks his eyes, beneath their silver sheaves,<br /> +Rest tranquilly like lilies under leaves.<br /> +Arrayed in innocence, what touch of grace<br /> +Reveals the scion of a courtly race?<br /> +Well, I will warn him, though, I fear, too late—<br /> +What Pierrot ever has escaped his fate?<br /> +But, see, he stirs, new knowledge fires his brain,<br /> +And cupid's vision bids him wake again.<br /> +Dione's Daughter! but how fair he is,<br /> +Would it be wrong to rouse him with a kiss?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stoops down and kisses him, then +withdraws into the shadow.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot</span> [<i>rubbing his eyes</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Celestial messenger! remain, remain;<br /> +Or, if a vision, visit me again!<br /> +What is this light, and whither am I come<br /> +To sleep beneath the stars so far from home?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Rises slowly to his feet.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Stay, I remember this is Venus' Grove,<br /> +And I am hither come to encounter—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> [<i>coming forward, but veiled</i>].</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">Love!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot</span> [<i>in ecstasy, throwing himself at her feet</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Then have I ventured and encountered Love?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Not yet, rash boy! and, if thou wouldst be wise,<br /> +Return unknowing; he is safe who flies.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Never, sweet lady, will I leave this place<br /> +Until I see the wonder of thy face.<br /> +Goddess or Naiad! lady of this Grove,<br /> +Made mortal for a night to teach me love,<br /> +Unveil thyself, although thy beauty be<br /> +Too luminous for my mortality.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> [<i>unveiling</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Then, foolish boy, receive at length thy will:<br /> +Now knowest thou the greatness of thine ill.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Now have I lost my heart, and gained my goal.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Didst thou not read the warning on the scroll?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Picks up the parchment.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I read it all, as on this quest I fared,<br /> +Save where it was illegible and hard.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Alack! poor scholar, wast thou never taught<br /> +A little knowledge serveth less than naught?<br /> +Hadst thou perused—but, stay, I will explain<br /> +What was the writing which thou didst disdain.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Reads.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +"<i>Au Petit Trianon</i>, at night's full noon,<br /> +Mortal, beware the kisses of the moon!<br /> +Whoso seeks her she gathers like a flower—<br /> +He gives a life, and only gains an hour."<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot</span> [<i>laughing recklessly</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Bear me away to thine enchanted bower,<br /> +All of my life I venture for an hour.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Take up thy destiny of short delight;<br /> +I am thy lady for a summer's night,<br /> +Lift up your viols, maidens of my train,<br /> +And work such havoc on this mortal's brain<br /> +That for a moment he may touch and know<br /> +Immortal things, and be full Pierrot,<br /> +White music, Nymphs! Violet and Eglantine!<br /> +To stir his tired veins like magic wine,<br /> +What visitants across his spirit glance,<br /> +Lying on lilies, while he watch me dance?<br /> +Watch, and forget all weary things on earth,<br /> +All memories and cares, all joy and mirth,<br /> +While my dance woos him, light and rhythmical,<br /> +And weaves his heart into my coronal.<br /> +Music, more music for his soul's delight:<br /> +Love is his lady for a summer's night.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pierrot reclines, and gazes at her +while she dances. The dance finished, +she beckons to him: he rises +dreamily, and stands at her side.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Whence came, dear Queen, such magic melody?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Pan made it long ago in Arcady.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I heard it long ago, I know not where,<br /> +As I knew thee, or ever I came here.<br /> +But I forgot all things—my name and race,<br /> +All that I ever knew except thy face.<br /> +Who art thou, lady? Breathe a name to me,<br /> +That I may tell it like a rosary.<br /> +Thou, whom I sought, dear Dryad of the trees,<br /> +How art thou designate—art thou Heart's-Ease?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Waste not the night in idle questioning,<br /> +Since Love departs at dawn's awakening.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Nay, thou art right; what recks thy name or state,<br /> +Since thou art lovely and passionate.<br /> +Play out thy will on me: I am thy lyre.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I am to each the face of his desire.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I am not Pierrot, but Venus' dove,<br /> +Who craves a refuge on the breast of love.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What wouldst thou of the maiden of the moon?<br /> +Until the cock crow I may grant thy boon.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Then, sweet Moon Maiden, in some magic car,<br /> +Wrought wondrously of many a homeless star—<br /> +Such must attend thy journeys through the skies,—<br /> +Drawn by a team of milk-white butterflies,<br /> +Whom, with soft voice and music of thy maids,<br /> +Thou urgest gently through the heavenly glades;<br /> +Mount me beside thee, bear me far away<br /> +From the low regions of the solar day;<br /> +Over the rainbow, up into the moon,<br /> +Where is thy palace and thine opal throne;<br /> +There on thy bosom—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Too ambitious boy!</span><br /> +I did but promise thee one hour of joy.<br /> +This tour thou plannest, with a heart so light,<br /> +Could hardly be completed in a night.<br /> +Hast thou no craving less remote than this?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Would it be impudent to beg a kiss?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I say not that: yet prithee have a care!<br /> +Often audacity has proved a snare.<br /> +How wan and pale do moon-kissed roses grow—<br /> +Does thou not fear my kisses, Pierrot?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +As one who faints upon the Libyan plain<br /> +Fears the oasis which brings life again!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Where far away green palm trees seem to stand<br /> +May be a mirage of the wreathing sand.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Nay, dear enchantress, I consider naught,<br /> +Save mine own ignorance, which would be taught.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Dost thou persist?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">I do entreat this boon!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She bends forward, their lips meet: +she withdraws with a petulant +shiver. She utters a peal of clear +laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Why art thou pale, fond lover of the moon?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Cold are thy lips, more cold than I can tell;<br /> +Yet would I hang on them, thine icicle!<br /> +Cold is thy kiss, more cold than I could dream<br /> +Arctus sits, watching the Boreal stream:<br /> +But with its frost such sweetness did conspire<br /> +That all my veins are filled with running fire;<br /> +Never I knew that life contained such bliss<br /> +As the divine completeness of a kiss.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Apt scholar! so love's lesson has been taught,<br /> +Warning, as usual, has gone for naught.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Had all my schooling been of this soft kind,<br /> +To play the truant I were less inclined.<br /> +Teach me again! I am a sorry dunce—<br /> +I never knew a task by conning once.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Then come with me! below this pleasant shrine<br /> +Of Venus we will presently recline,<br /> +Until birds' twitter beckon me away<br /> +To my own home, beyond the milky-way.<br /> +I will instruct thee, for I deem as yet<br /> +Of Love thou knowest but the alphabet.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +In its sweet grammar I shall grow most wise,<br /> +If all its rules be written in thine eyes.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Lady sits upon a step of the +temple, and Pierrot leans upon +his elbow at her feet, regarding +her.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Sweet contemplation! how my senses yearn to be thy scholar always, always learn.<br /> +Hold not so high from me thy radiant mouth,<br /> +Fragrant with all the spices of the South;<br /> +Nor turn, O sweet! thy golden face away,<br /> +For with it goes the light of all my day.<br /> +Let me peruse it, till I know by rote<br /> +Each line of it, like music, note by note;<br /> +Raise thy long lashes, Lady; smile again:<br /> +These studies profit me.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Takes her hand.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Refrain, refrain!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot</span> [<i>with passion</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I am but studious, so do not stir;<br /> +Thou art my star, I thine astronomer!<br /> +Geometry was founded on thy lip.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Kisses her hand.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +This attitude becomes not scholarship!<br /> +Thy zeal I praise; but, prithee, not so fast,<br /> +Nor leave the rudiments until the last,<br /> +Science applied is good, but 'twere a schism<br /> +To study such before the catechism.<br /> +Bear thee more modestly, while I submit<br /> +Some easy problems to confirm thy wit.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +In all humility my mind I pit<br /> +Against her problems which would test my wit.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> [<i>questioning him from a little +book bound deliciously in vellum</i>].</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">What is Love?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is it folly,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is it mirth, or melancholy?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Joys above,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are there many, or not any?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">What is love?</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot</span> [<i>answering in a very humble attitude +of scholarship]</i>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">If you please,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A most sweet folly!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Full of mirth and melancholy:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Both of these!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In its sadness worth all gladness,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">If you please!</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Prithee where,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Goes Love a-hiding?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is he long in his abiding</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Anywhere?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Can you bind him when you find him;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Prithee, where?</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">With spring days</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Love comes and dallies:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Upon the mountains, through the valleys</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Lie Love's ways.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then he leaves you and deceives you</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">In spring days.</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Thine answers please me: 'tis thy turn to ask.<br /> +To meet thy questioning be now my task.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Since I know thee, dear Immortal,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is my heart become a blossom,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To be worn upon thy bosom.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When thou turn me from this portal,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whither shall I, hapless mortal,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Seek love out and win again</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Heart of me that thou retain?</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In and out the woods and valleys,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Circling, soaring like a swallow,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Love shall flee and thou shalt follow:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though he stops awhile and dallies,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Never shalt thou stay his malice!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Moon-kissed mortals seek in vain</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To possess their hearts again!</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tell me, Lady, shall I never</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rid me of this grievous burden!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Follow Love and find his guerdon</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In no maiden whatsoever?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wilt thou hold my heart forever?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rather would I thine forget,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In some earthly Pierrette!</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thus thy fate, what'er thy will is!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Moon-struck child, go seek my traces</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Vainly in all mortal faces!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In and out among the lilies,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Court each rural Amaryllis:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Seek the signet of Love's hand</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In each courtly Corisande!</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Now, verily, sweet maid, of school I tire;<br /> +These answers are not such as I desire.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Why art thou sad?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">I dare not tell.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> [<i>caressingly</i>].</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 7em;">Come, say!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Is love all schooling, with no time to play?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Though all love's lessons be a holiday,<br /> +Yet I will humor thee: what wouldst thou play?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What are the games that small moon-maids enjoy:<br /> +Or is their time all spent in staid employ?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Sedate they are, yet games they much enjoy:<br /> +They skip with stars, the rainbow is their toy.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +That is too hard!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For mortal's play.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">What then?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Teach me some pastime from the world of men.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I have it, maiden.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Can it soon be taught?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +A single game, I learnt it at the Court.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But, prithee, not so near.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +That is essential, as will soon appear.<br /> +Lay here thine hand, which cold night dews anoint,<br /> +Washing its white—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Now is this to the point?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Prithee, forbear! Such is the game's design.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Here is my hand.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">I cover it with mine.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What must I next?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They play.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Withdraw.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">It goes too fast.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They continue playing, until Pierrot +catches her hand.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot</span> [<i>laughing</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +'Tis done. I win my forfeit at the last.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He tries to embrace her. She escapes; +he chases her round the +stage; she eludes him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Thou art not quick enough. Who hopes to catch<br /> +A moon-beam, must use twice as much dispatch.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot</span> [<i>sitting down sulkily</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I grow aweary, and my heart is sore.<br /> +Thou dost not love me; I will play no more.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He buries his face in his hands. +The Lady stands over him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What is this petulance?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">'Tis quick to tell—</span><br /> +Thou hast but mocked me.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Nay! I love thee well!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Repeat those words, for still within my breast<br /> +A whisper warns me they are said in jest.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I jested not: at daybreak I must go,<br /> +Yet loving thee far better than thou know.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Then, by this altar, and this sacred shrine,<br /> +Take my sworn troth, and swear thee wholly mine!<br /> +The gods have wedded mortals long ere this.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +There was enough betrothal in my kiss.<br /> +What need of further oaths?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">That bound not thee!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Peace! since I tell thee that it may not be.<br /> +But sit beside me whilst I soothe thy bale<br /> +With some moon fancy or celestial tale.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Tell me of thee, and that dimy, happy place<br /> +Where lies thine home, with maidens of thy race!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> [<i>seating herself</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Calm is it yonder, very calm; the air<br /> +For mortals' breath is too refined and rare;<br /> +Hard by a green lagoon our palace rears<br /> +Its dome of agate through a myriad years.<br /> +A hundred chambers its bright walls enthrone,<br /> +Each one carved strangely from a precious stone.<br /> +Within the fairest, clad in purity,<br /> +Our mother dwelleth immemorially:<br /> +Moon-calm, moon-pale, with moon stones on her gown,<br /> +The floor she treads with little pearls is sown;<br /> +She sits upon a throne of amethysts,<br /> +And orders mortal fortunes as she lists;<br /> +I, and my sisters, all around her stand,<br /> +And, when she speaks, accomplish her demand.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Methought grim Clotho and her sisters twain<br /> +With shriveled fingers spun this web of bane!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Theirs and my mother's realm is far apart;<br /> +Hers is the lustrous kingdom of the heart,<br /> +And dreamers all, and all who sing and love,<br /> +Her power acknowledge, and her rule approve.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Me, even me, she hath led into this grove.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Yea, thou art one of hers! But, ere this night,<br /> +Often I watched my sisters take their flight<br /> +Down heaven's stairway of the clustered stars<br /> +To gaze on mortals through their lattice bars;<br /> +And some in sleep they woo with dreams of bliss<br /> +Too shadowy to tell, and some they kiss.<br /> +But all to whom they come, my sisters say,<br /> +Forthwith forget all joyance of the day,<br /> +Forget their laughter and forget their tears,<br /> +And dream away with singing all their years—<br /> +Moon-lovers always!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She sighs.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Why art sad, sweet Moon?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Laughs.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +For this, my story, grant me now a boon.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I am thy servitor.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Would, then, I knew</span><br /> +More of the earth, what men and women do.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I will explain.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Let brevity attend</span><br /> +Thy wit, for night approaches to its end.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Once was I a page at Court, so trust in me:<br /> +That's the first lesson of society.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Society?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">I mean the very best</span><br /> +Pardy! thou wouldst not hear about the rest.<br /> +I know it not, but am a petit maître<br /> +At rout and festival and bal champêtre.<br /> +But since example be instruction's ease,<br /> +Let's play the thing.—Now, Madame, if you please!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He helps her to rise, and leads her +forward: then he kisses her hand, +bowing over it with a very courtly +air.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What am I, then?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">A most divine Marquise!</span><br /> +Perhaps that attitude hath too much ease.<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="salute">[<i>Passes her.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Ah, that is better! To complete the plan,<br /> +Nothing is necessary save a fan.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Cool is the night, what needs it?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Madame, pray</span><br /> +Reflect, it is essential to our play.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> [<i>taking a lily</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Here is my fan!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">So, use it with intent:</span><br /> +The deadliest arm in beauty's armament!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What do we next?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">We talk!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">But what about?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +We quiz the company and praise the rout;<br /> +Are polished, petulant, malicious, sly,<br /> +Or what you will, so reputations die.<br /> +Observe the Duchess in Venetian lace,<br /> +With the red eminence.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">A pretty face!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +For something tarter set thy wits to search—<br /> +"She loves the churchman better than the church."<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Her blush is charming; would it were her own!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Madame is merciless!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Is that the tone?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +The very tone: I swear thou lackest naught.<br /> +Madame was evidently bred at Court.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Thou speakest glibly: 'tis not of thine age.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I listened much, as best becomes a page.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I like thy Court but little—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hush! the Queen!</span><br /> +Bow, but not low—thou knowest what I mean.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Nay, that I know not!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Though she wears a crown,</span><br /> +'Tis from La Pompadour one fears a frown.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Thou art a child: thy malice is a game.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +A most sweet pastime—scandal is its name.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Enough, it wearies me.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then, rare Marquise,</span><br /> +Desert the crowd to wander through the trees.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He bows low, and she curtsies; they +move round the stage. When they +pass before the Statue he seizes +her hand and falls on his knee.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What wouldst thou now?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ah, prithee, what, save thee!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Was this included in thy comedy?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Ah, mock me not! In vain with quirk and jest<br /> +I strive to quench the passion in my breast;<br /> +In vain thy blandishments would make me play:<br /> +Still I desire far more than I can say.<br /> +My knowledge halts, ah, sweet, be piteous,<br /> +Instruct me still, while time remains to us,<br /> +Be what thou wist, Goddess, moon-maid, <i>Marquise</i>,<br /> +So that I gather from thy lips heart's ease,<br /> +Nay, I implore thee, think thee how time flies!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Hush! I beseech thee, even now night dies.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Night, day, are one to me for thy soft sake.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He entreats her with imploring gestures, +she hesitates: then puts her +finger on her lip, hushing him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +It is too late, for hark! the birds awake.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +The birds awake! It is the voice of day!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Farewell, dear youth! They summon me away.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The light changes, it grows daylight: +and the music imitates the +twitter of the birds. They stand +gazing at the morning: then Pierrot +sinks back upon his bed, he +covers his face in his hands.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> [<i>bending over him</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Music, my maids! His weary senses steep<br /> +In soft untroubled and oblivious sleep,<br /> +With Mandragore anoint his tired eyes,<br /> +That they may open on mere memories,<br /> +Then shall a vision seem his lost delight,<br /> +With love, his lady for a summer night.<br /> +Dream thou hast dreamt all this, when thou awake,<br /> +Yet still be sorrowful, for a dream's sake.<br /> +I leave thee, sleeper! Yea, I leave thee now,<br /> +Yet take my legacy upon thy brow:<br /> +Remember me, who was compassionate,<br /> +And opened for thee once, the ivory gate.<br /> +I come no more, thou shalt not see my face<br /> +When I am gone to mine exalted place:<br /> +Yet all thy days are mine, dreamer of dreams,<br /> +All silvered over with the moon's pale beams:<br /> +Go forth and seek in each fair face in vain,<br /> +To find the image of thy love again.<br /> +All maids are kind to thee, yet never one<br /> +Shall hold thy truant heart till day be done.<br /> +Whom once the moon has kissed, loves long and late,<br /> +Yet never finds the maid to be his mate.<br /> +Farewell, dear sleeper, follow out thy fate.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Moon Maiden withdraws: a +song is sung from behind: it is full +day.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute"><b><span class="smcap">The Moon Maiden's Song</span></b></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +Sleep! Cast thy canopy<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Over this sleeper's brain,</span><br /> +Dim grows his memory,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When he awake again.</span><br /> +<br /> +Love stays a summer night,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till lights of morning come;</span><br /> +Then takes her wingèd flight<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Back to her starry home.</span><br /> +<br /> +Sleep! Yet thy days are mine;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Love's seal is over thee:</span><br /> +Far though my ways from thine,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dim though thy memory.</span><br /> +<br /> +Love stays a summer night,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till lights of morning come;</span><br /> +Then takes her wingèd flight<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Back to her starry home.</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="salute">[<i>When the song is finished, the curtain +falls upon Pierrot sleeping.</i>]</p> + + + +<h4><i>EPILOGUE</i></h4> + +<p class="center">[<i>Spoken in the character of</i> <span class="smcap">Pierrot</span>]</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +<i>The sun is up, yet ere a body stirs,<br /> +A word with you, sweet ladies and dear sirs,</i><br /> +<br /> +[<i>Although on no account let any say<br /> +That</i> <span class="smcap">Pierrot</span> <i>finished Mr. Dowson's play</i>].<br /> +<br /> +<i>One night not long ago, at Baden Baden,—<br /> +The birthday of the Duke,—his pleasure garden<br /> +Was lighted gayly with</i> feu d'artifice,<br /> +<i>With candles, rockets, and a center-piece<br /> +Above the conversation house, on high,<br /> +Outlined in living fire against the sky,<br /> +A glittering</i> Pierrot, <i>radiant, white,<br /> +Whose heart beat fast, who danced with sheer delight,<br /> +Whose eyes were blue, whose lips were rosy red,<br /> +Whose</i> pompons <i>too were fire, while on his head<br /> +He wore a little cap, and I am told<br /> +That rockets covered him with showers of gold.<br /> +"Take our applause, you well deserve to win it,"<br /> +They cried: "Bravo! the</i> Pierrot <i>of the minute!"</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>What with applause and gold, one must confess<br /> +That Pierrot had "arrived," achieved success,<br /> +When, as it happened, presently, alas!<br /> +A terrible disaster came to pass.<br /> +His nose grew dim, the people gave a shout,<br /> +His red lips paled, both his blue eyes went out.<br /> +There rose a sullen sound of discontent,<br /> +The golden shower of rockets was all spent;<br /> +He left off dancing with a sudden jerk,<br /> +For he was nothing but a firework.<br /> +The garden darkened and the people in it<br /> +Cried, "He is dead,—the</i> Pierrot <i>of the minute!"</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>With every artist it is even so;<br /> +The artist, after all, is a</i> Pierrot—<br /> +<i>A</i> Pierrot <i>of the minute, naïf, clever,<br /> +But Art is back of him, She lives for ever!</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Then pardon my Moon Maid and me, because<br /> +We craved the golden shower of your applause!<br /> +Pray shrive us both for having tried to win it,<br /> +And cry, "Bravo! The</i> Pierrot <i>of the minute!"</i><br /> +</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="KEZIA" id="KEZIA"></a>THE SUBJECTION OF KEZIA</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Mrs. Havelock Ellis</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1915, by Edith M. O. Ellis.<br /> +As Author and Proprietor.<br /> +<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS IN THE PLAY.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> +<span class="smcap">Joe Pengilly</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Kezia</span> [<i>Joe Pengilly's wife</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Matthew Trevaskis</span> [<i>a friend of the Pengillys</i>]. +</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> +<span class="smcap">The Scene</span> <i>is laid in a Cornish village</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>The Present</i>. +</td></tr> +</table></div> +<p class="center"><i>The whole action of the play takes place between seven +o'clock and nine o'clock on a Saturday evening.</i></p> + + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">Reprinted from "Love in Danger" by permission of and special arrangements with, +Houghton, Mifflin Company.</p> + +<p>The professional and amateur stage rights on this play are strictly reserved by the +author, to whose dramatic agent, Miss Galbraith Welch, 101 Park Avenue, New York, +applications for permission to produce it should be made.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE SUBJECTION OF KEZIA</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Mrs. Havelock Ellis</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>Interior of a cottage kitchen +in a Cornish fishing village. The walls +are distempered a pale blue; the ceiling +wooden and beamed. Middle of back +wall, a kitchen-range where fire is burning. +At back <span class="smcap">R.</span> is a door opening into +an inner room. At back <span class="smcap">L.</span> small cupboards. +At side <span class="smcap">L.</span> is a large kitchen-table +laid for tea under a window facing +sea. The floor is red brick. On mantelpiece, +white china dogs, clock, copper +candlesticks, tea-caddy, stirrups, and +bits. On walls, family framed photographs, +religious framed pictures. Below +table is a door leading into street. +Behind door, roller with hanging towel. +Usual kitchen paraphernalia, chairs, pots +and pans, etc. Cat basket with straw to +<span class="smcap">R.</span> of range. At back <span class="smcap">R.</span> is a wooden settle +with good upright sides. Joe Pengilly +is wiping his face and hands, having +just come in from the pump outside. +He sighs and glances uneasily at Kezia, +who has her back turned to him, and is +frying mackerel at the stove. He rolls +down his sleeves slowly and watches his +wife uneasily. He is dressed as a laborer—corduroy +trousers, hob-nailed +boots, blue-and-white shirt, open throat. +He takes down a sleeved waistcoat from +a peg behind the door and puts it on. +He is a slight man with thin light hair, +gentle in manner, but with a strong keen +face. Kezia is a little taller than Joe—slender +and graceful, with a clean cotton +dress fitting well to her figure; a clean +apron, well-dressed and tidy hair; good-looking +and energetic. Joe smiles to +himself and crosses his arms and shuffles +his feet as he looks towards Kezia. +Kezia turns round suddenly and looks at +him sideways, the cooking-fork in one +hand and the handle of the frying-pan +in the other. Joe sits down at table.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Why didn't thee speak?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Nothin' to say, my dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Thee's not much company, for +sure.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe laughs and leans his arms on the +table as he looks at Kezia; his face +beams as he watches her landing +the fish from the bubbling fat to +a dish. She puts some on a plate +in front of Joe, and pours out tea +in a large cup. She suddenly looks +at him as he begins picking off the +tail of his mackerel with his fingers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Cain't thee answer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> To what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia</span> [<i>snappily</i>]. Why, to me, of +course.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe takes a long drink of tea and +gazes at her over his cup.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Thee'rt a great beauty, Kezia, +sure enough!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He puts the cup down and goes on +picking his fish with the fingers of +one hand, while the other holds +bread and butter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> There you are again; always +either grumblin' or jeerin' at me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I'm not doin' neither, woman. +I'm tryin' for to make up for thrawtin' +of you this mornin' over they soaked +crusties as I gave the cat and ruined the +nice clean floor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Now [<i>angrily</i>], just when I +were forgettin' all about it, of course +you must bring it all up again, and +you're tryin' now [<i>pointing at the fish</i>] +all thee knows how, to make the tablecloth +like a dish-clout with thy great +greasy fingers!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe licks his fingers, one by one, +and wipes them on his trousers, as +he smiles into her cross face.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Gracious! [<i>whimpering</i>] that's +thee all over. Thee gives up one dirty +trick for another. I believe you only +married me to clean and tidy after you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe laughs heartily and looks up +at her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Heart alive! I married you because +you are the only woman I've ever +met in my life I could never weary of, +not even if you tormented me night and +day. Love of 'e, my dear, seemly, makes +a real fool of me most of my time.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>His face becomes very grave, and +Kezia's brow clears as she sits +down and begins to eat.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> You was always one for pretty +talk, Joe, but you're not a bit what you +were i' deeds lately.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe hands his cup for more tea.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> 'Cause you snap me up so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> There you are again, tryin' to +pick a quarrel.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe pulls his chair away from the +table and drags it nearer the grate. +He takes his pipe from his pocket +and blows into it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Now, Joe, you know I cain't +abide that 'baccy smell: it gives me a +headache.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> It gives me a headache to do +without 'baccy.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe polishes his pipe-bowl on his +sleeve, puts the stem in his mouth, +and takes out some shag. Kezia +watches him as she removes the +tea-things. Joe watches her out +of the corner of his eye as he slowly +fills his pipe.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> I'm fair wore out.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe gets up, puts his pipe on the +mantelpiece and his knife and shag +in his pocket, and advances towards +Kezia. He puts his hands +on her shoulders and looks in her +eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Kiss us, old girl!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Don't be so silly. I don't feel +like it at all, and I want to be with +mother again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> And married only two years!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> It seems like six to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> What ails thee, lass?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Don't keep allus askin' questions +and bein' so quarrelsome; I'm mazed +at the sight of 'e, sure enough. [<i>She +folds the cloth, pokes the fire, goes into +the inner room, at back R., and comes in +again with her hat and shawl on and a +basket in her hand. She looks at Joe, +and wipes her eyes.</i>] You can sit there +as long as you've a mind to, and smoke +insides black and blue. I'm going to +market a bit, and then I shall go into +Blanch Sally and talk to she. She've got +a bit of common sense. It's just on +eight o'clock, and I shan't be more nor +an hour or so.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe does not stir as Kezia goes out +of the front door. Kezia looks +back to see if he'll turn, but he +does not move. He gazes into the +fire with his hands clasped behind +his head, and his chair tilted +back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I'd as soon be a dog as a man, +sure enough! They can sit by the fire +and be comfortable. [<i>He jumps up suddenly +as he hears a knock at the door.</i>] +Come in!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The street door opens softly, and +Matthew Trevaskis comes in very +quietly. He is a stout, short man +with bushy hair and a beard. He +also is dressed as a laborer. He +looks at Joe and gives a low +whistle.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Hallo, mate!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Oh! you?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe sits down again, points to another +chair, and looks gloomily +back into the fire.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Well, brother! Thee looks +as if thee'd run out o' speerits and 'baccy +both.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I'm moody, like a thing.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew laughs and draws his chair +up close to Joe. He pulls down +his waistcoat, and then puts his +fingers in the arm-holes, as he contemplates +Joe.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Got the hump, mate? +Have 'e?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe shakes his head dolefully from +side to side and sighs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Jaw, I suppose?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe nods.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Thought so. I met the +missus as I came along looking a bit +teasy. Women's the devil that way; +it's in their breed and bone, like fightin' +in we. You began all wrong, like me, +mate, and females always takes advantage +of honeymoon ways, and stamps on +we if we don't take 'em in hand at +once.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe sighs, crosses his legs and looks +at his friend.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Drat it all! I never began no +different to what I am now. I cain't +make things up at all. I'm fairly mazed, +never having had dealin's with no female, +except mother, who was mostly ill, +and never in tantrums.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew rises, pokes Joe in the ribs +and laughs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Cheer up, brother, there's +no bigger fool than a man as is sent +crazy with a woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Women is mazy things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> There's allus 'baccy for to +fortify us against them, thanks be.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew draws a little black clay +pipe out of his waistcoat pocket +and points to Joe's pipe on the +mantelpiece as he sits down.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Kezia 'ates 'baccy in the house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Smoke all the time then; +it's the only way.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe smiles and smoothes his thin +straight hair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> You allus forgets I'm bent on +pleasin' of Kezia.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew stretches out his legs, and +his face becomes calm and thoughtful. +He speaks very deliberately.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> The more thee tries to +please women, mate, the more crotchety +they becomes. Within bounds I keep the +peace in our place like a judge, but she've +learnt, Jane Ann have, that I'll put my +foot down on any out-of-the-way tantrums. +Give them their heads and they'll +soon have we by the heels.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Sometimes I wonder if we give +'em their heads enough. Perhaps they'd +domineer less if we left 'em take their +own grainy ways.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> You bet! If I gave in to +Jane Ann entirely, where the devil do 'e +think I should be at all?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The two men laugh together and +light their pipes and smoke hard.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I've no notion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Well! I should be like a +cat out in the rain, never certain where +to put my feet. As it is, as you do +know, I cain't keep no dog for fear of +the mess its feet 'ud make on the floor; +I cain't have a magpie in a cage 'cause +its seed 'ud 'appen fall on the table. +I've got to walk ginger like a rooster in +wet grass for fear o' disturbin' the sand +on the clean floor, and I rubs my feet +on the mat afore I goes in to my meals +enough to split it in half. I gives in to +all things 'cause I was took captive over +them, in a manner of speaking, almost +afore I'd finished courting, and it takes +years to understand women's fancies! +It's worse nor any book learnin', is understandin' +women; and then, when you +think you've learnt 'em off by heart, any +man 'ud fail under a first standard examination +on 'em. [<i>He gets up and +shakes Joe by the shoulder.</i>] Listen to +me, mate! Bein' a real pal to thee, Joe, +I'm warnin' of 'e now afore it's too late, +for thee's only been wed two years, and +there's time to alter things yet.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe suddenly gets up and goes to +the door to see if it is fastened, +and returns to face his friend. +He takes off his long-sleeved waistcoat +and throws it on a chair, after +putting down his pipe.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Matthey!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Don't you think it is too late +even now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Fur what? It's no use +speakin' i' riddles, man. Trust or no +trust—that's my plan. Thee's the only +livin' man or woman, for the matter of +that, as I've blackened Jane Ann to, and +if it'll ease thy mind to tell what's worritin' +of thee, you do know it's as safe +as if you'd dropt your secret into the +mouth of a mine shaft.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Done! Give me a hearing and +let's have finished with it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew cleans out the bowl of his +pipe and knocks the ashes out +against the grate as he waits for +his friend to begin. Joe stands +first on one leg and then on the +other and gives a long whistle.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Sling along. It won't get +no easier wi' keeping.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe wipes his forehead with a red +handkerchief, which he takes out +of his trouser pocket.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Awkward kind o' work, pullin' +your lawful wife to bits.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> It'll get easier as thee goes +on, man. I'll help thee. What's the row +to-day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Crusties.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew winks at Joe and lights his +pipe again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> It's always some feeble +thing like that as makes confusion in a +house. Jane Ann began just like that. +Dirty boots in the best parlor was my +first offense, and it raised hell in our +house for nigh on a whole day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Well, I never! It was just the +same thing in a way with me. I soaked +the crusties in my tea this mornin' and +threw 'em to the cat under the table, and +I suppose I must 'ave put my foot in 'em, +for Kezia went off like a thing gone +mazy. She stormed and said—[<i>he sits +down and wipes his forehead again with +his handkerchief as he pauses</i>]—as she +were a fool to take me, and all sorts, and +then she cried fit to kill herself, and +when I spoke she told me to hold my +noise, and when I didn't speak she said +I'd no feelin's, and was worse nor a +stone. We scarcely spoke at dinner-time. +She said she wished she was dead, +and wanted her mother, and that, bein' a +man, I was worse nor a devil; and when +I kept on eatin' she said she wondered +the food didn't choke me, and when I +stopped eatin' she said I was never +pleased wi' nothin' she'd got ready for +me. My head is sore with the clang of +the teasy things she drove into me, and +I'm not good at replies, as you do know.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe ends in a weary voice and pokes +the fire listlessly. Matthew smokes +hard and his eyes are on the +ground.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Women be mysteries, and +without little uns they'm worse nor +monsters. A child do often alter and +soften 'em, but a childless woman is as +near a wolf as anything I do know.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe's elbows sink on his knees and +his hands support his woebegone +face. When he next speaks he has +a catch in his voice, and he speaks +quickly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> That's it, is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Iss, mate! That's the mischief. +Unless—[<i>he looks up suddenly +at Joe</i>]—perhaps she be goin' to surprise +'e by telling 'e she be going to have a +little one. That would account for her +bein' teasy and moody.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe laughs sorrowfully.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Lor', I should be the first to +know that, surely!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Not a bit of it. Women +loves secrets of that sort.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> No; 'tain't that at all. I only +wish it was, if what you say be true of +women.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> True enough, my son. I +did the cutest day's work in my life when +I persuaded Jane Ann to take little Joe +to help we. I watched the two of 'em +together and found he caught his tongueing, +too, from she, but it had a sort of +nestle sound in it as if she were a-cuddlin' +of him. She've been gentler wi' me +ever since Joe come back again after his +long bout at home.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe scratches his head very thoughtfully; +a pause, in which he seems +to be thinking before speaking +again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I don't know of no sister's child +to take on for Kezia at all. What's the +next remedy, think you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> A thrashin'.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe jumps up and stares at +Matthew.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> A what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Wallop her just once.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew looks on the ground and +taps it with his foot, and he does +not see that Joe is standing over +him with his hands clenched.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Shame on thee, mate! I feel +more like strikin' thee nor a female. I'm +sorry I told thee, if thee can offer no +more help than that. I'm not much of a +chap, but I've never struck a woman +yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Strike on principle, then.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He still looks fixedly at the floor, +and Joe stands glaring at him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> How?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Like the Almighty strikes +when He've got a lesson for we to learn, +which we won't learn without strikes and +tears. Nothin' is of no avail to stop His +chastisement if He do think it's goin' to +work out His plan for He and we, and +that's what I'm wanting of you to do by +your wife for her sake more than for +yours. Wives must learn to submit. +[<i>Harshly.</i>] It's Divine Providence as +'ave ordered it, and women be miserable, +like ivy and trailers of all sorts, if they've +no prop to bear 'em up. Beat her once +and it'll make a man of you and be a +life-long warnin' to she.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> But I love her, man! [<i>Softly.</i>] +The very thought of hurting her makes +me creep.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe shrugs his shoulders and shakes +his head repeatedly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> Women likes bein' hurt. +It's a real fondlin' to 'em at times.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe sits down and folds his arms as +he looks humbly at Matthew.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Lor', I never heard that afore. +How can you be sure of that at all?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> I've traveled, as you do +knaw. I ain't been to Africa for nothin', +mate. I've seen a deal o' things, which +if I'd happened on afore I courted Jane +Ann would have got me through the marriage +scrimmage wi' no tiles off of my +roof. That's why I'm a warnin' of you +afore it's too late. Your woman be worth +gettin' i' trim—[<i>with a sigh</i>]—for +she's—well—she's—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe's eyes rest on his friend's face +and his face suddenly lights up +with a smile.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> She's the best sort of woman a +man could 'ave for a sweetheart when +her moods is off, and it's only lately her +'ave altered so, and I expect it's really +all my fault.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> Certainly it is; you've +never shown master yet, and you must +this very night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> [<i>Coughs nervously.</i>] How?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> You must thrash her before +it is too late. Have 'e a cane?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe jumps up, twists round his +necktie, undoes it, ties it again—marches +up and down the little +kitchen, and wheels round on +Matthew.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> You'm a fair brute, Matthew +Trevaskis.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> And you'm a coward, Joe +Pengilly. [<i>Matthew clasps his hands +round his raised knee and nods at Joe, +who sits.</i>] I've given you golden advice, +and if only a pal had given it to me years +ago I shouldn't be in the place I'm in +now, but be master of my own wife and +my own chimney-corner.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe puts his hands in his pockets +and tilts back his chair as he gazes +up at the ceiling as if for inspiration.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I cain't stomach the idea at all; +it's like murderin' a baby, somehow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> Stuff! You needn't lay +on too hard to make bruises nor nothin'.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe goes pale and puts his head in +his hands for a moment, and he +almost whispers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Good Lord! Bruises! Why, +man, she've got flesh like a flower!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew suddenly holds out his +hand to Joe, who shakes it +feebly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> I almost envies thee, mate. +Why, thee's fair daft wi' love still.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Of course I be! [<i>Sullenly.</i>] +She's more nor meat and drink to me; +allus have been since the first I took to +she.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> All the more reason to +beat her, and at once. [<i>Sternly.</i>] You'll +lose her, sure enough, if you don't. It's +the only chance for thee now, and I do +knaw I'm speaking gospel truth.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A long pause, in which Joe meditates +with a grave face. He suddenly +snaps the fingers of his right +hand as he says quickly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I'll do it. It'll nearly be the finish +of me, but if you're certain sure she'll +love me more after it I'll shut my eyes +and set my teeth and—and—yes, upon +my soul, I'll do it! She'm more to me +than all the world, and I'll save she and +myself with her. But are you sure it +will do any good?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew wrings Joe's hands and +then slaps him on the back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> I swear it, brother. [<i>Solemnly.</i>] +I've never once known it fail.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>anxiously</i>]. Never once in all +your travels?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew looks down.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> Iss, mate, once, sure +enough, but the woman had never cared +twopence for the man to start with. +After it she left 'un altogether.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>with a groan</i>]. Oh! Good Lord!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> That was no fair start like +a thing. See?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> No, to be sure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> Now! [<i>He strikes Joe's +shoulder briskly.</i>] Now for it!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe twists round towards the door, +and a miserable smile is on his +lips.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Well, what now?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew bends down to Joe's ear +and whispers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> We must go and buy the +cane.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Sakes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mathew.</span> Bear up! It'll all be over +by this time to-morrow night, and that's +a great stand by, isn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I suppose it is. [<i>Gloomily.</i>] +Who'll be spokesman over the buyin'?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Me, my son. How far +will 'e go i' price?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe shakes his head and looks wearily +at Matthew.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> It's no odds to me, Matthey; I +don't know and don't care!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Will sixpence ruin 'e?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> It's all ruin. I'm sweatin' like a +bull with fear and shame, and wish I +was dead and buried.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Matthew points to the door and the +two men move slowly towards it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> It's just on nine o'clock. +Kezia will be back afore we start if we +don't mind. Don't stop to think when +you come back, but rush right in and set +at it at once, and she'll have time to come +round before you settle for the night. +Bein' Saturday night, all the neighbors +be mostly i' town shoppin', and if there +should be a scream I'll make up a yarn +to any one who comes near as 'll stop all +gossip. I shan't be far off till I reckon +it's all over.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe's teeth are set and his head +down, and he gazes at the door and +then at Matthew, irresolutely.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew.</span> Thee deserves to lose her +if thee be real chicken-hearted like this +'ere.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe makes a dart forward, unlatches +the door, rushes out followed by +Matthew.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Matthew</span> [<i>outside</i>]. Go round by +the croft and then we shan't meet her +coming home.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>After a pause the door slowly opens +and Kezia comes in. She has a +basket in one hand and a string +bag full of parcels in the other. +She looks round, puts her parcels +on the table and in the cupboards, +pokes the fire, and then takes her +basket in her hand again, looks at +the clock and goes into the inner +room. She comes back with her +outdoor garments off and a loose +dressing-jacket of white and blue +linen over her arm. She goes to a +drawer in the table and brings out +a little comb and brush and stands +thinking.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> I'll do my hair down here. +He cain't be long, and it's cold upstairs. +Gone for tobacco, I suppose, and he'll +want his tea when he comes in.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She puts the kettle on the fire. +She undoes her hair, facing audience; +shakes it about her shoulders, +puts on her dressing-jacket +and begins to brush and comb her +hair before the fire, and near the +settle she bends down and warms +her hands, singing a lullaby as she +does so. She then stands facing +the fire, smiling to herself as she +sings. So absorbed is she in her +thoughts that she does not see the +street-door open and the white, +scared face of Joe appear. He +puts his hands behind his back +when he has softly shut the door, +and tip-toes towards Kezia, who +never sees him till he has sat down +swiftly on the settle, the further +corner to where she stands. His +left hand, with the cane in it, is +not visible to Kezia, as it is hidden +by the end of the settle. Tying a +large plait on one side of her head—the +nearest to him—with pink +ribbon, she suddenly turns round +and sees him, and their eyes meet. +She sits down by him. Kezia's +face is very sweet and smiling as +she tosses the plait over her shoulder.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Seen a ghost, Joey, my dear, +or is it Kezia come to her senses at last, +think you?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe does not stir. He gazes at +Kezia with a puzzled and tender +expression.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> What's come to thee, lass?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Guess!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Kezia clasps her hands behind her +head and looks into Joe's face with +a happy smile.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Cain't at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Come close, sweetheart.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She draws nearer to Joe, who does +not move, and tries to keep the +cane hidden. He suddenly draws +her close to him with his right arm, +and whispers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Kezia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia</span> [<i>softly</i>]. Joey, my dear! [<i>She +nestles closer to him and puts her head +on his shoulder.</i>] He'll be the dearest +little thing a woman ever bore.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe laughs softly, kisses Kezia gently +on the eyes, brow, and then +month, and holds her closely to +him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Heaven cain't be more desirable +than this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> To think there'll be three of +us soon. You see now why I've been so +teasy lately. Now I'll sing all day long +so he'll be a happy boy.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe does not move. He makes furtive +attempts to hide the cane behind +the settle, and moves a little +as he continues to smile at Kezia.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kezia.</span> Thee'rt smiling, Joe! Thee +and me 'ave both hungered for the same +thing. Did thee guess it at all, I wonder? +I've kept it from thee a while to make +sure. But, lor'! my dear life! whatever +be this that you've got here? [<i>She pulls +the long cane out of Joe's hands and holds +it in hers. They both look at it very +solemnly for a few moments, and Joe +scratches his head sadly, unable to speak. +She bursts into a merry laugh and her +lips tremble.</i>] Eh! Joe! lad! [<i>softly.</i>] +Thee was always unlike other chaps; +that's why I do love thee so. Fancy thee +guessing, and going to buy him somethin' +right away! [<i>She puts her face in +her hands and sobs and laughs together.</i>] +Oh! it brings it so near like. Most men +would have thought of a cradle or a +rattle, but thee! Oh! my dear! [<i>She +throws her arms round his neck and kisses +him on the mouth.</i>] Thee thought of the +first beatin' we should be forced to give +him, for, of course, he'll be a lad of tremenjous +spirit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>suddenly, and snatching the +cane from Kezia.</i>] So he will. Both his +father and mother be folk of great spirit, +and—the first time as he dirts the tablecloth +or frets his mother, I'll lay it on +him as, thanks be, I've never laid it on +nobody yet.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CONSTANT_LOVER" id="THE_CONSTANT_LOVER"></a>THE CONSTANT LOVER</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy of Youth</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By St. John Hankin</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright.<br /> +<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><i>"As of old when the world's heart was lighter."</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Constant Lover</span> was first produced at the Royalty Theatre, London, January +30, 1912, under the direction of Messrs. Vedrenne and Eadie, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Evelyn Rivers</span></td><td align='left'><i>Miss Gladys Cooper</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Cecil Harburton</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mr. Dennis Eadie</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">Reprinted from "The Dramatic Works of St. John Hankin," by permission of, and<br /> +by special arrangement with, Mr. Mitchell Kennerley.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE CONSTANT LOVER</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'J. H. Speenhoff'">St. John Hankin</ins></p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>Before the curtain rises the orchestra +will play the Woodland Music (cuckoo) +from "Hansel and Gretel" and possibly +some of the Grieg Pastoral Music from +"Peer Gynt," or some Gabriél Fauré.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A glade in a wood. About <span class="smcap">C.</span> +a great beech-tree, the branches of which +overhang the stage, the brilliant sunlight +filtering through them. The sky where +it can be seen through the branches is a +cloudless blue.</i></p> + +<p><i>When the curtain rises Cecil Harburton +is discovered sitting on the ground +under the tree, leaning his back against +its trunk and reading a book. He wears +a straw hat and the lightest of gray flannel +suits. The chattering of innumerable +small birds is heard while the curtain +is still down, and this grows louder +as it rises, and we find ourselves in the +wood. Presently a wood pigeon coos in +the distance. Then a thrush begins to +sing in the tree above Cecil's head and is +answered by another. After a moment +Cecil looks up.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> By Jove, that's jolly! [<i>Listens +for a moment, then returns to his +book.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Suddenly a cuckoo begins to call +insistently. After a moment or two +he looks up again.</i>]</p> + +<p>Cuckoo too! Bravo! [<i>Again he returns +to his book.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A moment later enter Evelyn +Rivers. She also wears the lightest +of summer dresses, as it is +a cloudless day in May. On her +head is a shady straw hat. As +she approaches the tree a twig +snaps under her foot and Cecil +looks up. He jumps to his feet, +closing book, and advances to her, +eagerly holding out his right hand, +keeping the book in his left.</i>]</p> + +<p>[<i>Reproachfully.</i>] Here you are at last!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> At last?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Yes. You're awfully late! +[<i>Looks at watch.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Am I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> YOU know you are. I expected +you at three.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Why? I never said I'd come +at three. Indeed, I never said I'd come +at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> No.—But it's always been +three.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Has it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> And now it's half-past. I consider +I've been cheated out of a whole +half-hour.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I couldn't help it. Mother +kept me. She wanted the roses done in +the drawing-room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> How stupid of Mrs. Rivers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Mr. Harburton!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> What's the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I don't think you <i>ought</i> to +call my mother stupid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Why not—if she is stupid? +Most parents are stupid, by the way. I've +noticed it before. Mrs. Rivers ought to +have thought of the roses earlier. The +morning is the proper time to gather +roses. Didn't you tell her that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I'm afraid I couldn't very +well. You see it was really I who ought +to have thought of the roses! I always +do them. But this morning I forgot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I see. [<i>Turning towards the +tree.</i>] Well, sit down now you are here. +Isn't it a glorious day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>hesitating</i>]. I don't believe I +ought to sit down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>turns to her</i>]. Why not? +There's no particular virtue about standing, +is there? I hate standing. So let's +sit down and be comfortable.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She sits, so does he. She sits on +bank under tree, left of it. He sits +below bank to right of tree.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> But <i>ought</i> I to be sitting here +with you? That's what I mean. It's—not +as if I really <i>knew</i> you, is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Not <i>know</i> me? [<i>The chatter +of birds dies away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Not properly—we've never +even been introduced. We just met quite +by chance here in the wood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Yes. [<i>Ecstatically.</i>] What a +glorious chance!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Still, I'm sure mother +wouldn't approve.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> And <i>you</i> say Mrs. Rivers isn't +stupid!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. I expect most +people would agree with her. Most people +would say you oughtn't to have +spoken to a girl you didn't know like +that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Oh, come, I only asked my way +back to the inn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> There was no harm in asking +your way, of course. But then we began +talking of other things. And then we +sat down under this tree. And we've sat +under this tree every afternoon since. +And that was a week ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Well, it's such an awfully jolly +tree.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I don't know <i>what</i> mother +would say if she heard of it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Would it be something unpleasant?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>ruefully</i>]. I'm afraid it +would.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span>. How fortunate you don't know +it then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>pondering</i>]. Still, if I really +<i>oughtn't</i> to be here.... Do <i>you</i> think I +oughtn't to be here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I don't think I should go into +that if I were you. Sensible people think +of what they want to do, not of what they +<i>ought</i> to do, otherwise they get confused. +And then of course they do the wrong +thing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> But if I do what I oughtn't, +I generally find I'm sorry for it afterwards.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Not half sorry as you would +have been if you hadn't done it. In this +world the things one regrets are the things +one hasn't done. For instance, if I +hadn't spoken to you a week ago here in +the wood I should have regretted it all +my life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Would you?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He nods.</i>]</p> + +<p>Really and truly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>nods</i>]. Really and truly.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He lays his hand on hers for a moment, +she lets it rest there. Cuckoo +calls loudly once or twice—she +draws her hand away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> There's the cuckoo.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Cecil rises and sits up on bank R. +of her, leaning against tree.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Yes. Isn't he jolly? Don't +you love cuckoos?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> They <i>are</i> rather nice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Aren't they! And such clever +beggars. Most birds are fools—like +most people. As soon as they're grown +up they go and get married, and then the +rest of their lives are spent in bringing +up herds of children and wondering how +on earth to pay their school-bills. Your +cuckoo sees the folly of all that. No +school-bills for <i>her</i>! No nursing the +baby! She just flits from hedgerow to +hedgerow flirting with other cuckoos. +And when she lays an egg she lays it in +some one else's nest, which saves all the +trouble of housekeeping. Oh, a wise +bird!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>pouting, looking away from +him</i>]. I don't know that I <i>do</i> like cuckoos +so much after all. They sound to me +rather selfish.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Yes. But so sensible! The +duck's a wise bird too in her way. [<i>She +turns to him.</i>] But <i>her</i> way's different +from the cuckoo's. [<i>Matter-of-fact.</i>] +She always <i>treads</i> on <i>her</i> eggs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Clumsy creature!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Not a bit. She does it on purpose. +You see, it's much less trouble +than <i>sitting</i> on them. As soon as she's +laid an egg she raises one foot absent-mindedly +and gives a warning quack. +Whereupon the farmer rushes up, takes it +away, and puts it under some wretched +hen, who has to do the sitting for her. I +call that genius!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Genius!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Yes. Genius is the infinite +capacity for making other people take +pains.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> How can you say that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I didn't. Carlyle did.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I don't believe he said anything +of the kind. And I don't believe +ducks are clever one bit. They don't +look clever.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> That's part of their cleverness. +In this world if one <i>is</i> wise one should +look like a fool. It puts people off their +guard. That's what the duck does.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Well, I think ducks are horrid, +and cuckoos, too. And I believe most +birds <i>like</i> bringing up their chickens and +feeding them and looking after them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> They do. That's the extraordinary +part of it. They spend their whole +lives building nests and laying eggs and +hatching them. And when the chickens +come out the father has to fuss round +finding worms. And the nest's abominably +over-crowded and the babies are perpetually +squalling, and that drives the +husband to the public house, and it's all +as uncomfortable as the Devil—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Mr. Harburton!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span>. Well, <i>I</i> shouldn't like it. In +fact, I call it fatuous.</p> + +<p>[<i>Evelyn is leaning forward pondering +this philosophy with a slightly puckered +brow—a slight pause</i>]. I say, <i>you</i> don't +look a bit comfortable like that. Lean +back against the tree. It's a first-rate +tree. That's why I chose it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>tries and fails</i>]. I can't. +My hat gets in the way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Take it off then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I think I will. [<i>Does so.</i>] +That's better. [<i>Leans back luxuriously +against the trunk; puts her hat down on +bank beside her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Much better. [<i>Looks at her +with frank admiration.</i>] By Jove, you +<i>do</i> look jolly without your hat!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Do I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Yes. Your hair's such a jolly +color. I noticed it the first time I saw +you. You had your hat off then, you +know. You were walking through the +wood fanning yourself with it. And +directly I caught sight of you the sun +came out and simply flooded your hair +with light. And there was the loveliest +pink flush on your cheeks, and your eyes +were soft and shining—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>troubled</i>]. Mr. Harburton, +you mustn't say things to me like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Mustn't I? Why not? Don't +you like being told you look jolly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>naïvely</i>]. I do <i>like</i> it, of +course. But <i>ought</i> you...?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>groans</i>]. Oh, it's <i>that</i> again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I mean, it's not <i>right</i> for men +to say those things to girls.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I don't see that—if they're +true. You <i>are</i> pretty and your eyes <i>are</i> +soft and your cheeks—why, they're +flushing at this moment! [<i>Triumphant.</i>] +Why shouldn't I say it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Please!... [<i>She stops, and +her eyes fill with tears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>much concerned</i>]. Miss Rivers, +what's the matter? Why, I believe you're +crying!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>sniffing suspiciously</i>]. I'm ... not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> You are, I can see the tears. +Have I said anything to hurt you? What +is it? Tell me. [<i>Much concerned.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>recovering herself by an effort</i>]. +It's nothing, nothing really. I'm +all right now. Only you won't say things +to me like that again, will you? Promise. +[<i>Taking out handkerchief.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I promise ... if you really +wish it. And now dry your eyes and let's +be good children. That's what my nurse +used to say when my sister and I quarreled. +Shall I dry them for you? +[<i>Takes her handkerchief and does so +tenderly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>with a gulp</i>]. Thank you. +[<i>Takes away handkerchief.</i>] How absurd +you are! [<i>Puts it away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Thank <i>you</i>!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Evelyn moves down, sitting at bottom +of bank, a little below him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Did you often quarrel with +your sister?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Perpetually. <i>And</i> my brothers. +Didn't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I never had any.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Poor little kid. You must +have been rather lonely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>matter-of-fact</i>]. There was +always Reggie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Reggie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> My cousin, Reggie Townsend. +He lived with us when we were +children. His parents were in India.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>matter-of-fact</i>]. So he used to +quarrel with you instead.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>shocked</i>]. Oh no! We <i>never</i> +quarreled. At least, Reggie never did. +<i>I</i> did sometimes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> How dull! There's no good +in quarreling if people won't quarrel +back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I don't think there's any +good in quarreling at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Oh, yes, there is. There's the +making it up again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Was that why you used to +quarrel with your sister?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I expect so, though I didn't +know it, of course—then. I used to +tease her awfully, I remember, and pull +her hair. She had awfully jolly hair. +Like yours—oh! I forgot, I mustn't say +that. Used you to pull Reggie's hair?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. I'm afraid I did +sometimes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I was sure of it. How long +was he with you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Till he went to Winchester. +And of course he used to be with us in +the holidays after that. And he comes +to us now whenever he can get away for +a few days. He's in his uncle's office in +the city. He'll be a partner some day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Poor chap!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> <i>Poor</i> chap! Mother says +he's very <i>fortunate</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> She would. Parents always +think it very fortunate when young men +have to go to an office every day. I +know mine do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> <i>Do</i> you go to an office every +day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>with dignity</i>]. Then I don't +think you can know much about it, can +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>carelessly</i>]. I know too much. +That's why I don't go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> What <i>do</i> you do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I don't do anything. I'm at +the Bar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> If you're at the Bar, why are +you down here instead of up in London +working?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Because if I were in London I +might possibly get a brief. It's not likely, +but it's possible. And if I got a brief +I should have to be mugging in chambers, +or wrangling in a stuffy court, instead of +sitting under a tree in the shade with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> But <i>ought</i> you to waste your +time like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>genuinely shocked</i>]. <i>Waste</i> my +time! To sit under a tree—a really nice +tree like this—talking to you. You can +call that <i>wasting time</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Isn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> No! To sit in a frowsy office +adding up figures when the sky's blue and +the weather's heavenly, <i>that's</i> wasting +time. The only real way in which one +can waste time is not to enjoy it, to spend +one's day blinking at a ledger and never +notice how beautiful the world is, and +how good it is to be alive. To be only +making money when one might be making +love, <i>that</i> is wasting time!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> How earnestly you say that!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Cecil leans forward—close to her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Isn't it true?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>troubled</i>]. Perhaps it is. +[<i>Looks away from him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> You know it is. Every one +knows it. Only people won't admit it. +[<i>Leaning towards her and looking into +her eyes.</i>] You know it at this moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>returning his gaze slowly</i>]. +I think I do.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>For a long moment they look into +each other's eyes. Then he takes +her two hands, draws her slowly +towards him and kisses her gently +on the lips.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Ah! [<i>Sigh of satisfaction. +He releases her hands and leans back +against the tree again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>sadly</i>]. Oh, Mr. Harburton, +you <i>oughtn't</i> to have done that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Why not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Because.... [<i>Hesitates.</i>] +Because you <i>oughtn't</i>.... Because men +<i>oughtn't</i> to kiss girls.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>scandalized</i>]. Oughtn't to kiss +girls! What nonsense! What on earth +were girls made for if not to be kissed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I mean they <i>oughtn't</i> ... +unless.... [<i>Looking away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>puzzled</i>]. Unless?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>looking down</i>]. Unless they +<i>love</i> them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>relieved</i>]. But I <i>do</i> love you. +Of course I love you. That's why I +kissed you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A thrush is heard calling in the distance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Really? [<i>Cecil nods. Evelyn +sighs contentedly.</i>] That makes it all +right then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I should think it did. And as +it's all right I may kiss you again, +mayn't I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>shyly</i>]. If you like.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> You darling! [<i>Takes her in +his arms and kisses her long and tenderly.</i>] +Lean your head on my shoulder, +you'll find it awfully comfortable. [<i>He +leans back against the tree.</i>] [<i>She does +so.</i>] There! Is that all right?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Quite. [<i>Sigh of contentment.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> How pretty your hair is! I always +thought your hair lovely. And it's +as soft as silk. I always knew it would +be like silk. [<i>Strokes it.</i>] Do you like +me to stroke your hair?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Yes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Sensible girl! [<i>Pause; he +laughs happily.</i>] I say, what am I to +call you? Do you know, I don't even +know your Christian name yet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Don't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> No. You've never told me. +What is it? Mine's Cecil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Mine's Evelyn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Evelyn? Oh, I don't like Evelyn. +It's rather a <i>stodgy</i> sort of name. I +think I shall call you Eve. Does any one +else call you Eve?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Then I shall certainly call you +Eve. After the first woman man ever +loved. May I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> If you like—Cecil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> That's settled then.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He kisses her again. Pause of utter +happiness, during which he settles +her head more comfortably on +his shoulder, and puts arm round +her.</i>]</p> + +<p>Isn't it heavenly to be in love?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Heavenly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> There's nothing like it in the +whole world! Say so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Love is the most beautiful +thing in the whole world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Good girl! There's a reward +for saying it right. [<i>Kisses her.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pause of complete happiness for +both.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>meditatively</i>]. I'm afraid +Reggie won't be pleased.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The chatter of sparrows is heard.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>indifferently</i>]. Won't he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>shakes her head</i>]. No. You +see, Reggie's in love with me too. He always +has been in love with me, for years +and years. [<i>Sighs.</i>] Poor Reggie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> On the contrary. Happy Reggie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>astonished</i>]. What <i>do</i> you +mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> To have been in love with you +years and years. <i>I've</i> only been in love +with you a week.... I've only known +you a week.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I'm afraid Reggie didn't look +at it like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>nods</i>]. No brains.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> You see, I always refused +<i>him</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Exactly. And he always went +on loving you. What more could the silly +fellow want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>shyly, looking up at him</i>]. +He <i>wanted</i> me to accept him, I suppose.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The bird chatter dies away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Ah!... Reggie ought to read +Keats's "Ode to a Grecian Urn."... I +say, what jolly eyes you've got! I noticed +them the moment we met here in +the wood. That was why I spoke to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>demurely</i>]. I thought it was +to ask your way back to the inn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> That was an excuse. I knew +the way as well as you did. I'd only just +come from there. But when I saw you +with the sunshine on your pretty soft +hair and lighting up your pretty soft +eyes, I said I <i>must</i> speak to her. And +I did. Are you glad I spoke to you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Glad and glad?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Good girl! [<i>Leans over and +kisses her cheek.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>sigh of contentment; sits up</i>]. +And now we must go and tell mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>with a comic groan</i>]. Need we?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>brightly</i>]. Of course.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>sigh</i>]. Well, if <i>you</i> think so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. You don't seem +to look forward to it much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I don't. That's the part I always +hate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> <i>Always?</i> [<i>Starts forward +and looks at him, puzzled.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>quite unconscious</i>]. Yes. The +going to the parents and all that. Parents +really are the most preposterous people. +They've no feeling for <i>romance</i> +whatever. You meet a girl in a wood. +It's May. The sun's shining. There's +not a cloud in the sky. She's adorably +pretty. You fall in love. Everything +heavenly! Then—why, I can't imagine—she +wants you to tell her mother. +Well, you do tell her mother. And her +mother at once begins to ask you what +your profession is, and how much money +you earn, and how much money you have +that you don't earn—and that spoils it +all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>bewildered</i>]. But I don't understand. +You talk as if you had actually +done all this before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> So I have. Lots of times.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Oh! [<i>Jumps up from the +ground and faces him, her eyes flashing +with rage.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I say, don't get up. It's not +time to go yet. It's only four. Sit down +again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>struggling for words</i>]. Do +you mean to say you've been in love with +girls before? <i>Other</i> girls?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>apparently genuinely astonished +at the question</i>]. Of course I have.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> And been engaged to them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span>. Not engaged. I've never been +engaged so far. But I've been in love +over and over again.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Evelyn stamps her foot with rage—turning +away from him.</i>]</p> + +<p>My dear girl, what <i>is</i> the matter? You +look quite cross. [<i>Rises.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>furious</i>]. And you're not +even <i>ashamed</i> of it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>roused to sit up by this question</i>]. +Ashamed of it? Ashamed of being +in love? How can you say such a +thing! Of course I'm not ashamed. +What's the good of being alive at all if +one isn't to be in love? I'm perpetually +in love. In fact, I'm hardly ever out of +love—with somebody.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>still furious</i>]. Then if you're +in love, why don't you get engaged? A +man has no business to make love to a +girl and not be engaged to her. It's not +right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>reasoning with her</i>]. That's the +parents' fault. I told you parents were +preposterous people. They won't allow +me to get engaged.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Why not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span>. Oh, for different reasons. +They say I'm not <i>serious</i> enough. Or +that I don't work enough. Or that I +haven't got enough money. Or else they +simply say they "don't think I'm fitted to +make their daughter happy." Anyhow, +they won't sanction an engagement. They +all agree about <i>that</i>. Your mother +would be just the same.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Impatient exclamation from Evelyn.</i>]</p> + +<p>I don't blame her. I don't say she's not +<ins class="correction" title="original reads 'right. don't'">right. I don't</ins> say they haven't all been +right. In fact, I believe they <i>have</i> been +right. I'm only explaining how it is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>savagely</i>]. I see how it is. +You don't really want to be married.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Of course I don't <i>want</i> to be +married. Nobody does unless he's perfectly +idiotic. One wants to be in love. +Being in love's splendid. And I dare +say being engaged isn't bad—though I've +had no experience of that so far. But +being married must be simply hateful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>boiling with rage</i>]. Nonsense! +How can it be hateful to be married +if it's splendid to be in love?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The cuckoo is heard.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Have you forgotten the cuckoo?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Oh!!!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span>. No ties, no responsibilities, no +ghastly little villa with children bellowing +in the nursery. Just life in the +open hedgerow. Life and love. Happy +cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>furious</i>]. I think cuckoos detestable. +They're mean, horrid, <i>disgusting</i> +birds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> No. No. I can't have you +abusing cuckoos. They're particular +friends of mine. In fact, I'm a sort of +cuckoo myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>turning on him</i>]. Oh, I hate +you! I hate you! [<i>Stamps her foot.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>with quiet conviction</i>]. You +don't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I do!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>shaking his head</i>]. You don't. +[<i>Quite gravely.</i>] One never really hates +the people one has once loved.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He looks into her eyes. For a moment +or two she returns his gaze +fiercely. Then her eyes fall and +they fill with tears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>half crying</i>]. How horrid +you are to say that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Because it's true, I suppose. +Ah, I'm so unhappy! [<i>Begins to cry.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>genuinely distressed</i>]. Eve! +You're crying. You mustn't do that. I +can't bear seeing people cry. [<i>Lays +hand on her shoulder.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>shaking it off</i>]. Don't. I +can't bear you to touch me. After falling +in love with one girl after another +like that. When I thought you were only +in love with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> So I am only in love with you—now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>tearfully</i>]. But I thought +you'd never been in love with any one +else. And I let you call me Eve because +you said she was the first woman man +ever loved.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> But I never said she was the +only one, did I? [<i>Argumentatively.</i>] +And one can't help being in love with +people when one <i>is</i> in love, can one? I +couldn't <i>help</i> falling in love with you, for +instance, the moment I saw you. You +looked simply splendid. It was such a +splendid day too. <i>Of course</i> I fell in +love with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>slightly appeased by his compliment, +drying her eyes</i>]. But you seem +to fall in love with such a lot of people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I do. [<i>Mischievously.</i>] But +ought <i>you</i> to throw stones at me? After +all, being in love with more than one person +is no worse than having more than +one person in love with you. How about +Reggie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Reggie? [<i>The sparrows' +chatter starts again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>nods</i>]. Reggie's in love with +you, isn't he? So am I. And both at +once too! I'm only in love with one person +at a time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>rebelliously</i>]. I can't help +Reggie being in love with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> And I can't help <i>my</i> being in +love with you. That's just my point. I +knew you'd see it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I don't see it at all. Reggie +is quite different from you. Reggie's +love is true and constant....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Well, I'm a <i>constant</i> lover if +you come to that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> You aren't. You know you +aren't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Yes, I am. A constant lover is +a lover who is constantly in love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Only with the same person.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> It doesn't say so. It only says +constant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>half-laughing</i>]. How ridiculous +you are! [<i>Turns away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>sigh of relief</i>]. That's right. +Now you're good-tempered again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I'm not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> What a story!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I'm not. I'm very, <i>very</i> +angry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> That's impossible. You can't +possibly be angry and laugh at the same +time, can you? No one can. And you +<i>did</i> laugh. You're doing it now.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She does so unwillingly.</i>]</p> + +<p>So don't let's quarrel any more. It's absurd +to quarrel on such a fine day, isn't +it? Let's make it up, and be lovers again.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The sparrows die away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>shaking her head</i>]. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Please!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>shaking her head</i>]. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Well, you're very foolish. +Love isn't a thing to throw away. It's +too precious for that. Love is the most +beautiful thing in the whole world. You +said so yourself not ten minutes ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I didn't. You said it. +[<i>Looking down.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> But you said it after me. +[<i>Gently and gravely.</i>] Eve, dear, don't +be silly. Let's be in love while we can. +Youth is the time to be in love, isn't it? +Soon you and I will be dull and stupid +and middle-aged like all the other tedious +people. And then it will be too late. +Youth passes so quickly. Don't let's +waste a second of it. They say the May-fly +only lives for one day. He is born +in the morning. All the afternoon he +flutters over the river in the sunshine, +dodging the trout and flirting with other +May-flies. And at evening he dies. +Think of the poor May-fly who happens +to be born on a wet day! The tragedy +of it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>softly</i>]. Poor May-fly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> There! You're sorry for the +May-fly, you see. You're only angry +with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Because you're not a May-fly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Yes, I am. A sort of May-fly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>with suspicion of tears in her +voice</i>]. You aren't. How can you be? +Besides, you said you were a cuckoo just +now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> I suppose I'm a cuckoo-May-fly. +For I <i>hate</i> wet days. And if you're +going to cry again, it might just as well +be wet, mightn't it? So do dry your eyes +like a good girl. Let me do it for you. +[<i>Does it with her handkerchief.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She laughs ruefully.</i>]</p> + +<p>There, that's better. And now we're going +to be good children again, aren't we?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>holding out hand</i>]. And you'll +kiss and be friends?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> I'll be friends, of course. +[<i>Sadly.</i>] But you must never kiss me +again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> What a shame! Why not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span>. Because you mustn't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>cheerfully</i>]. Well, you'll sit +down again anyhow, won't you? just to +show we've made it up. [<i>Moves towards +tree.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>shakes head</i>]. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>disappointed; turns</i>]. A.... +Then you haven't really made it up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Yes, I have. [<i>Picks up her +hat.</i>] But I must go now. Reggie's +coming down by the five o'clock train, +and I want to be at the station to meet +him. [<i>Holds out hand.</i>] Good-by, Mr. +Harburton.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>taking hand</i>]. Eve! You're +going to accept Reggie! [<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> [<i>half to herself</i>]. I wonder.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> And he'll have to tell your +mother?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Of course.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>drops her hand</i>]. Poor Reggie! +So <i>his</i> romance ends too!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> It won't! If I marry Reggie +I shall make him very happy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil.</span> Very likely. Marriage may be +happiness, but I'm hanged if it's romance!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Evelyn.</span> Oh! [<i>Exclamation of impatience.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She turns away and exits <span class="smcap">R.</span></i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Cecil watches her departure with a +smile half-amused, half-pained, till +she is long out of sight. Then +with half a sigh turns back to his +tree.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cecil</span> [<i>re-seating himself</i>]. Poor Reggie! +[<i>Re-opens his book and settles himself +to read again.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A cuckoo hoots loudly from a distant +thicket and is answered by another. +Cecil looks up from his +book to listen as the curtain falls.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_JUDGMENT_OF_INDRA" id="THE_JUDGMENT_OF_INDRA"></a>THE JUDGMENT OF INDRA</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Dhan Gopal Mukerji</span></h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Stewart & Kidd Company. +<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + + +<p>The professional and amateur stage rights of this play are strictly reserved by the +author, to whose dramatic representative, Frank Shay, in care Stewart & Kidd Co., +Cincinnati, Ohio, applications for permission to produce it should be made.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE JUDGMENT OF INDRA</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Dhan Gopal Mukerji</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Time:</span> <i>The Fifteenth Century</i>.]</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Place:</span> <i>A Monastery on one of the +foothills of Himalaya</i>.]</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap"><ins class="correction" title="original reads 'Sene'">Scene</ins>:</span> <i>In the foreground is the outer +court of a Monastery. In the center of +the court is a sacred plant, growing out +of a small altar of earth about two feet +square. On the left of the court is a +sheer precipice, adown which a flight of +stone steps—only a few of which are +visible—connects the Monastery with the +village in the valley below</i>.</p> + +<p><i>To the right are the temple and the +adobe walls and the roof of the monastery +cells. There is a little space between +the temple and the adobe walls, which is +the passage leading to the inner recesses +of the monastery. Several steps lead to +the doors of the temple, which give on the +court. In the distance, rear, are the +snowy peaks of the Himalayas, glowing +under the emerald sky of an Indian afternoon. +To the left, the distances stretch +into vast spaces of wooded hills. Long +bars of light glimmer and die as the vast +clouds, with edges of crimson, golden and +silver, spread portentously over the hills +and forest.</i></p> + +<p><i>A roll of thunder in the distance, accompanies +the rise of the curtain.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> [<i>He is reading a palm-leaf +manuscript near the Sacred Plant. He +looks up at the sky.</i>] It forbodes a calamity.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Suddenly the Temple doors open. +Shukra stands framed in the doorway. +Seeing that Shanta is alone, +Shukra walks down the steps toward +him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Are you able to make out +the words?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> Aye, Master.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Where is Kanada?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> He will be here presently. +Listen, master: it sayeth: "Only a hair's +breadth divides the true from the false. +Upon him who by thought, word or deed +confuses the two, will descend the Judgment +of Indra."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> The thunder of Indra is +just. It will strike the erring and the +unrighteous no matter where they hide +themselves; in the heart of the forest or +in the silence of the cloisters, Indra's +Judgment will descend on them. Even +the erring heart that knows not that it is +erring will be smitten and chastised by +Indra. [<i>Thunder rumbles in the distance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> Master, when you speak, you +not only fill the heart with ecstasy, but +also the soul with the beauty of truth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> To praise is good. But why +praise me, who have yet to find God +and,—[<i>Shakes his head sadly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> You will find Him soon; +your time is nigh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> I wish it were true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> Master, if there be anything +that I can do for you. If I could only +lighten your burden a little,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Thou hast done that already. +All the cares of the monastery thou hast +taken from me. Thou hast bound me to +thee by bonds of gratitude that can never +break. [<i>Enter Kanada.</i>] Ah, Kanada, +how be it with you to-day? [<i>Coming to +him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> [<i>He is a lad of twenty and +two.</i>] By your blessing I am well and +at peace. Have you finished your meditation?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> [<i>Sadly.</i>] Nine hours have I +meditated, but—I shall say the prayers +now. [<i>Enters the temple and shuts the +door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> He seems not to be himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> When he is in meditation for +a long time, he becomes another being.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> There is sadness in his eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> How can he be sad,—he who +has risen above joy and sorrow, pleasure +and pain, hate and love?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> Above love, too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> Yea, hate and love being opposite, +are Maya, illusion!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> Yet we must love the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> Yea, that we do to help the +world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> The Master is tender to the +villagers even if they lead the worldly +life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> We be monks. We have +broken all the ties of the world, even +those of family, so that we can bestow +our thoughts, care and love upon all the +children of God. Our love is impartial. +[<i>The thunder growls in the distance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> Yea, that is the truth. Yet +I think the Master loves thee more than +any other.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> Nay, brother. He loves no +one more than another. I have been with +him ten years; that makes him depend +on me. But if the truth were known,—he +loves none. For he loves all. Indra, +be my witness: the Master loveth no one +more than another.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> Ah, noble-souled Master! +Yet I feel happy to think that he loveth +thee more than any.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> He loves each living creature. +He is not as the worldly ones who +love by comparison—this one more, the +other less. Last night, as the rain wailed +without like a heart-broken woman, how +his voice rose in song of light and love! +He is one of God's prophets, and a true +singer of His praise.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> I can hear him yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> I will never forget the ineffable +joy that glowed in his words. +Only he who has renounced all ties, can +speak with such deep and undying love. +No anxiety—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> It was that of which I would +speak to thee. Dost thou not see sadness +and anxiety in the Master's face?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> He is deep in thought—naught +else.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> Ever since that message was +brought him the other day, he has seemed +heavy hearted. It was melancholy tidings.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> Nay, that message had +naught to do with him. [<i>Thunder +growls. The Temple doors open. Shukra +comes out of the Temple and shuts +the doors behind him. Then he stands +still in front of the Temple.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> [<i>Calling.</i>] Kanada.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> Yea, Master. [<i>He goes up +to Shukra, who gives him some directions. +Kanada exits; Shukra stands looking at +the sky.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> How wonderful a vision he +is! As he stands at the threshold of the +temple he seems like a new God, another +divinity come down to earth to lead the +righteous on to the realms celestial. Ah, +Master, how grateful am I to have thee +as my teacher! I thank Brahma for giving +thee to me.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Kanada. Shukra then walks +to Shanta, with Kanada following +him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> Master, all is ready.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Go ye to the village; ask +them if all be well with them. When the +heavens are unkind—ah, if it rains another +day all the crops will be destroyed. +What will they live on? No, no, it cannot +be. Go ye both down to them and +take them my blessings: Tell them we +will make another offering to Indra to-night. +It must not rain any more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> Bring out begging bowls, +Kanada.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> Shall I bring the torches, +too? [<i>Crossing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> The clouds may hide the +moon; yea, the torches, too. [<i>Kanada +exits <span class="smcap">R.</span></i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Yea. [<i>Thunder growls +above head.</i>] The storm grows apace. +I hope thou wilt find shelter ere it breaks. +[<i>A short silence.</i>] The world is growing +darker and darker each day. Sin and +Vice are gathering around it like a vast +coiling Serpent. We monks be the only +ones that can save it and set it free. +Shanta, be steadfast; strengthen me. +Help me to bring the light to the world. +Thou art not only my disciple, but my +friend and brother. [<i>He embraces Shanta.</i>] +Save me from the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> [<i>Entering.</i>] Here be—[<i>Stops +in surprise.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> [<i>Releasing Shanta.</i>] Come +to me, Kanada. [<i>The latter does so, +Shukra putting an arm around Kanada's +neck.</i>] Little Brother—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> [<i>Radiantly.</i>] Master—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Be brave and free—free +from the delusions of this world, Sansara. +Go yet to the village; take them +our blessings! Hari be with them all! +May ye return hither safely. [<i>Thunder +and lightning.</i>] Ah, Lord Indra!—Look, +it is raining yonder. Go, hasten—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shanta.</span> [<i>Taking a begging bowl and +torch from Kanada.</i>] Come!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> [<i>Putting his hands on their +heads.</i>] I bless ye both. May Indra +protect ye—[<i>the rest of his words are +drowned by the lightning flash and peal +of thunder</i>].</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The two disciples intone:</i> "OM +Shanti OM." <i>They go down the +steps.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> May this storm pass. OM +Shiva. Shiva love you, my Shanta. +For ten long years he has been with me; +he has greatly helped me in my search +after Him who is the only living Reality. +To-day I am nearer God—I stand at +the threshold of realization. I seem to +feel that it will not be long before the +Veil will be lifted and I shall press my +heart against the heart of the ultimate +mystery—Who comes there? [<i>Listens +attentively</i>]. They cannot have gone and +come back so soon. Ha! another illusion! +These days I am beset by endless +illusions. Perhaps that betokens the end +of my search, as the gloom is always +thickest ere the dawn. Yea, after this +will come the Light; I will see God! +[<i>Hears a noise; listens attentively.</i>] Are +they already returning? [<i>Calling.</i>] +Shanta! [<i>He crosses and looks down. +Thunder rolls very loudly now. He does +not heed that. Suddenly he recoils in +agitation. Footsteps are heard from below, +rising higher and higher. Shukra +rubs his eyes to make sure that he has +really seen something that is not an illusion. +He goes forward a few steps. +The head of an old man rises into view, +Shukra is stupefied; walks backwards until +his back touches the Sacred plant. +He stands still. The old man at last +climbs the last step. He has not noticed +Shukra. He looks at the Himalayas +in the rear. Then his eyes travel +over the monastery walls—Now suddenly +they catch sight of Shukra.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> What seek ye here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man</span> [<i>eyeing him carefully</i>]. +Ah, Shukra! dost thou not recognize +thine aged father? [<i>He goes to Shukra +with outstretched arms.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> I have no father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> But I am thy father. Did +not my messenger come the other day? +[<i>Silence.</i>] Did he lie to me? Dost thou +not know thy mother is—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Thy messenger came.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Then come thou home at +once. There is not time to be lost. +Come, my son, ere thy mother leaves this +earth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> I cannot go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Thou canst not go? Dost +thou not know that thy mother is on her +death-bed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> I have renounced the world. +For twelve years I have had no father, +nor mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Thou didst leave us, but +we did not renounce thee. And now +thou shouldst come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> I told thy messenger that I +have no father nor mother,—I cannot +come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> I heard it all. If you art +born of us, thou canst not have a heart +of stone? Come, my son: I, thy father, +implore thee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Nay, nay; God alone is my +father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Hath it not been said in +the scriptures that thy parents are thy +God? Thy father should be obeyed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> That was said by one who +had not seen the Truth, the Light.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> I command thee in the +name of the Scriptures.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> God alone can command me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Vishnu protect me! Art +thou dreaming, my child? Yonder lies +thy mother, fighting death,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> I have heard it all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> And yet thou wilt not go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Nay, father, I cannot go. +The day I took the vow of a monk, that +day I cut the bond that binds me to +you all. I must be free of all ties. I +must love none for myself that I may +love all for God. Here I must remain +where God has placed me, until He calls +me elsewhere.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> But thy mother lies, fighting +with each breath. She wishes to see +thee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> I cannot come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> But thou must.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> I would if I could; but my +life is in the hands of God.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man</span> [<i>mocking</i>]. God! Thy +life belongs to God? Who gave thee +life? Not God, but she who lies there +dying; what ingratitude! This, indeed, is +the age of darkness; sons are turning +against their fathers,—and killing their +own mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra</span> [<i>quietly</i>]. I may not love one +more than another; my steps, as my +heart, go whither God guides them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man</span> [<i>mocking</i>]. Truth is thy +witness?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> May Indra himself punish +me if I love one more than another. +Hear me, Indra. [<i>The roll of thunder +above.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man</span> [<i>in desperation</i>]. Come, +my son, in the name of thine own God I +pray to thee, come to thy mother. I +kneel at thy feet and beg for this boon. +[<i>He does so.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra</span> [<i>raising him to his feet. He +puts his own head down on the old man's +feet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Then thou comest? [<i>Shukra +rises to his feet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra</span> [<i>hesitating</i>]. There is a +law in the Sacred books that says an ascetic +should see the place of his birth +every twelfth year.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> And it is twelve years now +since thou didst renounce us! Ah! +blessed be the law.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Yet, father, if I go, I go +not in obedience to the law, but since the +desire to see my mother is uppermost in +me, I who dreamt not of the law hitherto—yea, +now I hasten to abide by the law. +Ah, what mockery! It is not the letter +of the law, but the spirit in us that +judges us sinners or saints. Now if I +go with thee to obey the law, that would +be betraying the law.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Betraying the law!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Thought alone is the measure +of our innocence. He who thinks +evil is a doer of evil indeed. Nay, nay, +tempt me not with the law. I must remain +here. I must keep my vow. [<i>He +looks up to heaven; it is covered with +enormous black clouds.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> The law is not written in +the heavens. It is inscribed in the heart +of man. Obey the dictates of thy heart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> God alone shall be obeyed. +I cannot betray His command. I, who +am an ascetic, must not yield to the desire +to see my mother—Nay! God—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> What manner of God is +He that deprives a dying mother of her +son? Such a God never was known in +Hindu life. No such God lives, nor +breathes. [<i>Thunder and lightning.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Erring Soul, do not blaspheme +your creator. He is the God of +Truth—God of Love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man</span> [<i>disdainfully</i>]. God of +Love,— How can He be God of Love +if He dries up the stream of thy heart +and blinds thy reason as the clouds blind +the eyes of the Sun? Nay, thou liest. +It is not the God of Love, but the God +of thine insane self—self-love that makes +thee rob thy mother of her only joy in +life. I—yea, I will answer to God for +thee. If, by coming to see thy mother, +thou sinnest, I ask God to make me pay +for thy sin. Come, obey thy father,—I +will take the burden of thy sin, if sin +it be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Nay, each man pays for his +sins as each man reaps the harvest of his +own good deeds. None can atone for +another. Ah, God! cursed be the hour +when I was born. Cursed,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Thou cursest +thy birth?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Yea, to be born in this +world of woe is a curse indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Then curse thy tormented +mind and thy desolate heart; curse not,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Nay, I curse the hour that +saw me come to this earth of delusion and +Maya. I do curse,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Thou dost dare curse the +hour when thou wert born! Ah, vile sinner! +To curse the hour of thy birth +when thy mother is dying! God be my +witness, he has incurred his father's +wrath. Now,—no God can save thee.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Nay, nay,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Shukra. I, thy father, thy +God in life, curse thee. Thou hast deprived +thy mother of her child, and her +death of its solace. Thou hast incurred +the wrath of the Spirits of all thy departed +ancestors.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra</span> [<i>cries out</i>]. Not thus; not +thus. [<i>Thunder and lightning, the whole +sky is swept by the clouds.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Not thus? Thus alone +shall it be. Cursed be thou at night; +cursed be thou by day; cursed be thou +going; cursed be thou coming. Thou art +cursed by the spirit of the race, by the +spirit of God. [<i>Continued thunder and +lightning.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra</span> [<i>falling at his father's feet</i>]. +I beseech thee, my father,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man</span> [<i>shrinking away</i>]. Touch +me not. [<i>Going left.</i>] Cursed art thou +in Life and Death forever.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> God!—Father, go not thus.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> I am not thy father. +[<i>Deafening and blinding thunder and +lightning.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Father—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man</span> [<i>going down the steps</i>]. +Pollute not my hearing by calling me thy +father. May the judgment of Indra be +upon thee! [<i>He totters down out of +sight, left, in anger and horror.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Father, hear, oh hear! +[<i>The rain comes down in a deluge; thunder +and lightning. The rain blots everything +out of sight. It pours in deep, +dark sheets, through which the chains +and sheets of lightning burn and run. +After raining awhile, the sky clears. In +the pale moonlight, Shukra is seen +crouching near the Sacred plant. He is +wet and disheveled. He slowly rises, +swaying in exhaustion. Voices are heard +below.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Can it be that it is over? +Has Indra judged me and found me free +of error? Yea, were I in error, the lightning +would have struck me. I lay there +blinded by rain awaiting my death. It +did not come. Yea, Indra has judged! +[<i>Noises below; he does not hear.</i>] O, +thou shadowy world, I am free of thee at +last. Free of love and loving, free of all +bondage. I have no earthly ties,—I lean +on God alone. At last, I am bound to +no earthly being, not even—[<i>strange +pause</i>]—not even,—Shanta. [<i>He becomes +conscious of the noise of approaching +footsteps and the light of the torches +from below.</i>] Who is that? [<i>He goes +forward a few steps. Enter Kanada, +torch in hand.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> Master, Master.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra.</span> Kanada, thou,—[<i>a pause, +very brief but poignant</i>]. Why this agitation? +Shanta, where is Shanta?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> Shanta is—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra</span> [<i>seeing the other torches +rising suddenly</i>]. Speak! Who comes +hither?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada.</span> They bring a dead man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra</span>. Who is he? [<i>As a premonition +of the truth comes over him.</i>] +Where is Shanta?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kanada</span> [<i>blurts out</i>]. At the foot +of the hill the lightning struck him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra</span> [<i>with a terrible cry</i>]. Shanta,—my +Shanta! [<i>Two men carrying +torches with one hand, and dragging +something white with the other, come up +the steps. This vision silences Shukra. +A pause follows. Another torch is seen +rising behind them.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shukra</span> [<i>slowly</i>], Shanta,—gone. +[<i>Pause again, looking into the starry +heavens.</i>] This is the Judgment of Indra!</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_WORKHOUSE_WARD" id="THE_WORKHOUSE_WARD"></a>THE WORKHOUSE WARD</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By Lady Gregory</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1909, by Lady Gregory.<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + +<p> </p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell</span></td><td align='left' rowspan='2'><big>}</big> [<i>Paupers</i>].</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe</span></td><td align='left'>[<i>a Countrywoman</i>].</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">Reprinted from "Seven Short Plays," by Lady Gregory, published by G. P. Putnam's<br /> +Sons, by permission of Lady Gregory and Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons.</p> + +<p>All acting rights, both professional and amateur, are reserved in the United +States, Great Britain, and all countries of the Copyright Union, by the author. Performances +forbidden and right of presentation reserved.</p> + +<p>Application for the right of performing this play or reading it in public should be +made to Samuel French, 28 West 38th Street, New York City, or 26 South Hampton +Street, Strand, London.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE WORKHOUSE WARD</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Lady Gregory</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A ward in Cloon Workhouse. +The two old men in their beds</i>.]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> Isn't it a hard case, +Mike McInerney, myself and yourself to +be left here in the bed, and it the feast +day of Saint Colman, and the rest of the +ward attending on the Mass.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Is it sitting up by +the hearth you are wishful to be, Michael +Miskell, with cold in the shoulders and +with speckled shins? Let you rise up so, +and you well able to do it, not like myself +that has pains the same as tin-tacks +within in my inside.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> If you have pains +within in your inside there is no one can +see it or know of it the way they can see +my own knees that are swelled up with +the rheumatism, and my hands that are +twisted in ridges the same as an old cabbage +stalk. It is easy to be talking about +soreness and about pains, and they maybe +not to be in it at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> To open me and to +analyze me you would know what sort +of a pain and a soreness I have in my +heart and in my chest. But I'm not one +like yourself to be cursing and praying +and tormenting the time the nuns are at +hand, thinking to get a bigger share than +myself of the nourishment and of the +milk.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> That's the way you +do be picking at me and faulting me. I +had a share and a good share in my early +time, and it's well you know that, and +the both of us reared in Skehanagh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> You may say that, +indeed, we are both of us reared in Skehanagh. +Little wonder you to have good +nourishment the time we were both rising, +and you bringing away my rabbits out +of the snare.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> And you didn't +bring away my own eels, I suppose, I was +after spearing in the Turlough? Selling +them to the nuns in the convent you did, +and letting on they to be your own. For +you were always a cheater and a schemer, +grabbing every earthly thing for your +own profit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> And you were no +grabber yourself, I suppose, till your land +and all you had grabbed wore away from +you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> If I lost it itself, it +was through the crosses I met with and +I going through the world. I never was +a rambler and a card-player like yourself, +Mike McInerney, that ran through +all and lavished it unknown to your +mother!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Lavished it, is it? +And if I did was it you yourself led me +to lavish it or some other one? It is on +my own floor I would be to-day and in +the face of my family, but for the misfortune +I had to be put with a bad next +door neighbor that was yourself. What +way did my means go from me is it? +Spending on fencing, spending on walls, +making up gates, putting up doors, that +would keep your hens and your ducks +from coming in through starvation on +my floor, and every four footed beast +you had from preying and trespassing on +my oats and my mangolds and my little +lock of hay!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> O to listen to you! +And I striving to please you and to be +kind to you and to close my ears to the +abuse you would be calling and letting +out of your mouth. To trespass on your +crops is it? It's little temptation there +was for my poor beasts to ask to cross +the mering. My God Almighty! What +had you but a little corner of a field!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> And what do you +say to my garden that your two pigs had +destroyed on me the year of the big +tree being knocked, and they making +gaps in the wall.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> Ah, there does be +a great deal of gaps knocked in a twelve-month. +Why wouldn't they be knocked +by the thunder, the same as the tree, or +some storm that came up from the west?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> It was the west +wind, I suppose, that devoured my green +cabbage? And that rooted up my Champion +potatoes? And that ate the gooseberries +themselves from off the bush?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> What are you saying? +The two quietest pigs ever I had, +no way wicked and well ringed. They +were not ten minutes in it. It would be +hard for them to eat strawberries in that +time, let alone gooseberries that's full of +thorns.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> They were not +quiet, but very ravenous pigs you had +that time, as active as a fox they were, +killing my young ducks. Once they had +blood tasted you couldn't stop them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> And what happened +myself the fair day of Esserkelly, +the time I was passing your door? Two +brazened dogs that rushed out and took +a piece of me. I never was the better +of it or of the start I got, but wasting +from then till now!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Thinking you were +a wild beast they did, that had made his +escape out of the traveling show, with +the red eyes of you and the ugly face +of you, and the two crooked legs of you +that wouldn't hardly stop a pig in a +gap. Sure any dog that had any life in +it at all would be roused and stirred seeing +the like of you going the road!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> I did well taking +out a summons against you that time. +It is a great wonder you not to have +been bound over through your lifetime, +but the laws of England is queer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> What ailed me +that I did not summons yourself after +you stealing away the clutch of eggs I +had in the barrel, and I away in Ardrahan +searching out a clocking hen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> To steal your eggs +is it? Is that what you are saying now? +[<i>Holds up his hands.</i>] The Lord is in +heaven, and Peter and the saints, and +yourself that was in Ardrahan that day +put a hand on them as soon as myself! +Isn't it a bad story for me to be wearing +out my days beside you the same as a +spancelled goat. Chained I am and +tethered I am to a man that is ram-shacking +his mind for lies!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> If it is a bad story +for you, Michael Miskell, it is a worse +story again for myself. A Miskell to be +next and near me through the whole of +the four quarters of the year. I never +heard there to be any great name on the +Miskells as there was on my own race +and name.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> You didn't, is it? +Well, you could hear it if you had but +ears to hear it. Go across to Lisheen +Crannagh and down to the sea and to +Newtown Lynch and the mills of Duras +and you'll find a Miskell, and as far as +Dublin!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> What signifies +Crannagh and the mills of Duras? Look +at all my own generations that are buried +at the Seven Churches. And how many +generations of the Miskells are buried in +it? Answer me that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> I tell you but for +the wheat that was to be sowed there +would be more side cars and more common +cars at my father's funeral (God +rest his soul!) than at any funeral ever +left your own door. And as to my +mother, she was a Cuffe from Claregalway, +and it's she had the purer blood!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> And what do you +say to the banshee? Isn't she apt to have +knowledge of the ancient race? Was +ever she heard to screech or to cry for +the Miskells? Or for the Cuffes from +Claregalway? She was not, but for the +six families, the Hyneses, the Foxes, the +Faheys, the Dooleys, the McInerneys. It +is of the nature of the McInerneys she is +I am thinking, crying them the same as +a king's children.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> It is a pity the +banshee not to be crying for yourself at +this minute, and giving you a warning to +quit your lies and your chat and your +arguing and your contrary ways; for +there is no one under the rising sun +could stand you. I tell you you are not +behaving as in the presence of the Lord.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Is it wishful for +my death you are? Let it come and meet +me now and welcome so long as it will +part me from yourself! And I say, and +I would kiss the book on it, I to have one +request only to be granted, and I leaving +it in my will, it is what I would request, +nine furrows of the field, nine ridges of +the hills, nine waves of the ocean to be +put between your grave and my own +grave the time we will be laid in the +ground!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> Amen to that! +Nine ridges, is it? No, but let the whole +ridge of the world separate us till the +Day of Judgment! I would not be laid +anear you at the Seven Churches, I to +get Ireland without a divide!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> And after that +again! I'd sooner than ten pound in my +hand, I to know that my shadow and my +ghost will not be knocking about with +your shadow and your ghost, and the +both of us waiting our time. I'd sooner +be delayed in Purgatory! Now, have +you anything to say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> I have everything +to say, if I had but the time to say it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> [<i>Sitting up.</i>] Let +me up out of this till I'll choke you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> You scolding pauper +you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> [<i>Shaking his fist +at him.</i>] Wait a while!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> [<i>Shaking his fist.</i>] +Wait a while yourself!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mrs. Donohoe comes in with a parcel. +She is a countrywoman with +a frilled cap and a shawl. She +stands still a minute. The two old +men lie down and compose themselves.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> They bade me come +up here by the stair. I never was in this +place at all. I don't know am I right. +Which now of the two of ye is Mike McInerney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Who is it is calling +me by my name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> Sure amn't I your sister, +Honor McInerney that was, that is +now Honor Donohoe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> So you are, I believe. +I didn't know you till you pushed +anear me. It is time indeed for you to +come see me, and I in this place five +year or more. Thinking me to be no +credit to you, I suppose, among that tribe +of the Donohoes. I wonder they to give +you leave to come ask am I living yet or +dead?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> Ah, sure, I buried the +whole string of them. Himself was the +last to go. [<i>Wipes her eyes.</i>] The Lord +be praised he got a fine natural death. +Sure we must go through our crosses. +And he got a lovely funeral; it would +delight you to hear the priest reading +the Mass. My poor John Donohoe! A +nice clean man, you couldn't but be fond +of him. Very severe on the tobacco he +was, but he wouldn't touch the drink.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> And is it in Curranroe +you are living yet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> It is so. He left all +to myself. But it is a lonesome thing the +head of a house to have died!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> I hope that he has +left you a nice way of living?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> Fair enough, fair +enough. A wide lovely house I have; a +few acres of grass land ... the grass +does be very sweet that grows among the +stones. And as to the sea, there is something +from it every day of the year, a +handful of periwinkles to make kitchen, +or cockles maybe. There is many a thing +in the sea is not decent, but cockles is fit +to put before the Lord!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> You have all that! +And you without e'er a man in the house?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> It is what I am thinking, +yourself might come and keep me +company. It is no credit to me a brother +of my own to be in this place at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> I'll go with you! +Let me out of this! It is the name of +the McInerneys will be rising on every +side!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> I don't know. I was +ignorant of you being kept to the bed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> I am not kept to +it, but maybe an odd time when there is +a colic rises up within me. My stomach +always gets better the time there is a +change in the moon. I'd like well to draw +anear you. My heavy blessing on you, +Honor Donohoe, for the hand you have +held out to me this day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> Sure you could be +keeping the fire in, and stirring the pot +with the bit of Indian meal for the hens, +and milking the goat and taking the tacklings +off the donkey at the door; and +maybe putting out the cabbage plants in +their time. For when the old man died +the garden died.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> I could to be sure, +and be cutting the potatoes for seed. +What luck could there be in a place and +a man not to be in it? Is that now a suit +of clothes you have brought with you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> It is so, the way you +will be tasty coming in among the neighbors +at Curranroe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> My joy you are! +It is well you earned me! Let me up +out of this! [<i>He sits up and spreads out +the clothes and tries on coat.</i>] That now +is a good frieze coat ... and a hat in +the fashion.... [<i>He puts on hat.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell</span> [<i>alarmed</i>]. And is +it going out of this you are, Mike McInerney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Don't you hear I +am going? To Curranroe I am going. +Going I am to a place where I will get +every good thing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> And is it to leave +me here after you you will?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney</span> [<i>in a rising chant</i>]. +Every good thing! The goat and the kid +are there, the sheep and the lamb are +there, the cow does be running and she +coming to be milked! Plowing and +seed sowing, blossom at Christmas time, +the cuckoo speaking through the dark +days of the year! Ah, what are you talking +about? Wheat high in hedges, no talk +about the rent! Salmon in the rivers as +plenty as hurf! Spending and getting +and nothing scarce! Sport and pleasure, +and music on the strings! Age will go +from me and I will be young again. +Geese and turkeys for the hundreds and +drink for the whole world!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> Ah, Mike, is it +truth you are saying, you to go from me +and to leave me with rude people and +with townspeople, and with people of +every parish in the union, and they having +no respect for me or no wish for me at +all!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Whist now and I'll +leave you ... my pipe [<i>hands it over</i>]; +and I'll engage it is Honor Donohoe won't +refuse to be sending you a few ounces of +tobacco an odd time, and neighbors coming +to the fair in November or in the +month of May.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> Ah, what signifies +tobacco? All that I am craving is the +talk. There to be no one at all to say +out to whatever thought might be rising +in my innate mind! To be lying here and +no conversible person in it would be the +abomination of misery!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Look now, Honor.... +It is what I often heard said, two +to be better than one.... Sure if you +had an old trouser was full of holes +... or a skirt ... wouldn't you put another +in under it that might be as tattered +as itself, and the two of them together +would make some sort of a decent show?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> Ah, what are you saying? +There is no holes in that suit I +brought you now, but as sound it is as +the day I spun it for himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> It is what I am +thinking, Honor.... I do be weak an +odd time.... Any load I would carry, it +preys upon my side ... and this man +does be weak an odd time with the swelling +in his knees ... but the two of us +together it's not likely it is at the one time +we would fail. Bring the both of us with +you, Honor, and the height of the castle +of luck on you, and the both of us together +will make one good hardy man!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> I'd like my job! Is it +queer in the head you are grown asking +me to bring in a stranger off the road?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> I am not, ma'am, +but an old neighbor I am. If I had forecasted +this asking I would have asked it +myself. Michael Miskell I am, that was +in the next house to you in Skehanagh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> For pity's sake! +Michael Miskell is it? That's worse +again. Yourself and Mike that never left +fighting and scolding and attacking one +another! Sparring at one another like +two young pups you were, and threatening +one another after like two grown +dogs!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> All the quarreling +was ever in the place it was myself did +it. Sure his anger rises fast and goes +away like the wind. Bring him out with +myself now, Honor Donohoe, and God +bless you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> Well, then, I will not +bring him out, and I will not bring yourself +out, and you not to learn better sense. +Are you making yourself ready to come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> I am thinking, +maybe ... it is a mean thing for a man +that is shivering into seventy years to go +changing from place to place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> Well, take your luck +or leave it. All I asked was to save you +from the hurt and the harm of the year.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Bring the both of +us with you or I will not stir out of this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> Give me back my fine +suit so [<i>begins gathering up the clothes</i>], +till I go look for a man of my own!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Let you go so, as +you are so unnatural and so disobliging, +and look for some man of your own, God +help him! For I will not go with you at +all!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Donohoe.</span> It is too much time I +lost with you, and dark night waiting to +overtake me on the road. Let the two +of you stop together, and the back of my +hand to you. It is I will leave you there +the same as God left the Jews!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes out. The old men lie down +and are silent for a moment.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> Maybe the house +is not so wide as what she says.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Why wouldn't it be +wide?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> Ah, there does be +a good deal of middling poor houses down +by the sea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> What would you +know about wide houses? Whatever sort +of a house you had yourself it was too +wide for the provision you had into it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> Whatever provision +I had in my house it was wholesome +provision and natural provision. Herself +and her periwinkles! Periwinkles is a +hungry sort of food.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Stop your impudence +and your chat or it will be the worse +for you. I'd bear with my own father +and mother as long as any man would, +but if they'd vex me I would give them +the length of a rope as soon as another!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> I would never ask +at all to go eating periwinkles.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney</span> [<i>sitting up</i>]. Have +you any one to fight me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell</span> [<i>whimpering</i>]. I +have not, only the Lord!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Let you leave putting +insults on me so, and death picking +at you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> Sure I am saying +nothing at all to displease you. It is why +I wouldn't go eating periwinkles, I'm in +dread I might swallow the pin.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> Who in the world +wide is asking you to eat them? You're +as tricky as a fish in the full tide!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell.</span> Tricky is it! Oh, +my curse and the curse of the four and +twenty men upon you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> That the worm +may chew you from skin to marrow bone! +[<i>Seizes his pillow.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell</span> [<i>seizing his own pillow</i>]. +I'll leave my death on you, you +scheming vagabone!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney.</span> By cripes! I'll pull +out your pin feathers! [<i>throwing pillow</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael Miskell</span> [<i>throwing pillow</i>]. +You tyrant! You big bully you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mike McInerney</span> [<i>throwing pillow +and seizing mug</i>]. Take this so, you +<ins class="correction" title="original reads 'stobbing'">stabbing</ins> ruffian you!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They throw all within their reach +at one another, mugs, prayer +books, pipes, etc.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="LOUISE" id="LOUISE"></a>LOUISE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By J. H. Speenhoff</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Translated from the Dutch by A. V. C. P. Huizinga and Pierre Loving.</span></small></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Acting rights reserved by Pierre Loving.<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> +<span class="smcap">Louise</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Van Der Elst</span> [<i>Notary</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Vennema</span> [<i>Louise's Father</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sophie</span> [<i>Serving Maid</i>].<br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">Applications for permissions to produce <span class="smcap">Louise</span> must be addressed to<br /> +Pierre Loving, 240 W. 4.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>LOUISE</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By J. H. Speenhoff</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A large fashionably appointed +room with few decorations on the +walls. The latter are papered in yellow +with large black lilies. To the right, a +tall broad window with heavy brown curtains. +To the left, an old gold harp with +a little footstool. Behind, to the right, +a door with brown portières, affording a +view of a vestibule and banister. To the +left, down front, a broad couch with black +head cushions. Next to it the end of a +heavy broad oaken table, with the side +turned toward the couch. Behind, the +back wall has an open chimney with +carved wood and ornaments on it. Beside +the chimney, on both sides, are two +large comfortable chairs and two others +by the table and window respectively. +On the table are the remains of breakfast: +fruit glasses and two empty champagne +bottles</i>.</p> + +<p><i>As the curtain rises Louise is discovered +lying on the couch with her feet extended +toward the audience. She lies +quietly and gazes blankly in the distance. +Closer scrutiny reveals that she is in the +last stage of intoxication. On the whole, +it is rather a lady-like inebriety and expresses +itself now and again by way of a +heavy sigh, looseness of limb, a languid +flutter of the eyelids and a disposition to +be humorous. It is about three in the +afternoon. As for the tone of the room, +there are a lot of yellows, blacks and +browns; the light is quite subdued. Soon +after the rise of the curtain, Louise begins +slowly and dreamily to hum a melody. +She stops for a while, gazes blankly +around and starts humming again. Then +she raises herself, crosses her arms on +the tables and rests her head on them. +Her hair is loosely arranged—or disarranged. +Her dressing gown is black +and white.</i></p> + +<p><i>A bell is rung downstairs. Louise does +not seem to hear it. Another ting-a-ling. +You can hear the maid going downstairs. +The door opens and shuts. Two pairs of +feet are heard climbing the stairs. The +maid parts the portières, shows Van der +Elst in and points Louise out to him, +meanwhile remaining discreetly behind +the portières.</i></p> + +<p><i>The truth is that Sophie is very much +embarrassed. She looks as if she has been +called away from her proper duties. She +is a healthy maid, with tousled blond hair, +cotton dress, blue apron, maid's cap and +is in her stocking feet. She goes toward +Louise, then stops confusedly at a little +distance from her. She moves a chair +needlessly, in timid embarrassment, and +wipes her lips with her apron.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Here's a gentleman to see you—to +see—you, madam.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Louise doesn't hear.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie</span> [<i>approaches the end of table</i>]. +A gentleman has come—come to see—you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>raising herself on her elbows; +with her head on her hands</i>]. What are +you doing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie</span> [<i>confusedly</i>]. I—madam? +Why, nothing. But there's a gentleman +... you see....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> A gentleman? Very well, you +may go. [<i>She closes her eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> But ... but ... he wishes +to speak to you. A gray-haired gentleman. +He is standing by the portières +... over there. [<i>Indicates Van Elst.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Louise does not pay any attention to +Sophie or Van Elst, but composes +herself for another nap on the +couch.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> May he come in? [<i>A long +pause.</i>] May he...? [<i>Louise does not +answer. Sophie waits a bit, then she +beckons Van Elst into the room.</i>] She +won't answer, sir. Maybe you'd better +come back in an hour or so....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Hm! No. That's impossible. +[<i>Looks at Louise.</i>] What's the +matter with madam? Is she asleep?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> No ... you see ... she is, +you know....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>approaching</i>]. What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> She isn't well....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Ah, not well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Yes, from.... [<i>Hesitates.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>spying the bottles on the +table</i>]. Has madam consumed those?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Yes, yes. It's awful. [<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Does this happen very +often?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Yes. Oh, yes, quite often.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Indeed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Hadn't you better go until +... for a while?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> No, no. I shall....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Very well, sir, you know best. +[<i>Sophie goes out of the room on tiptoe.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Now that Sophie is out of the room, +one has an opportunity to scrutinize +Van Elst more closely. He is +a prosperous-looking country gentleman +about fifty years old. He +wears a shining tophat, white vest +with a gold chain across his stomach, +tight-fitting blue trousers, low +shoes, white socks and a short blue +coat. He is clean-shaven and +when he removes his hat, one observes +that his hair is close-cropped. +His walking-stick, contrary to expectations, +is light and slim. He +takes a chair near the window, directly +behind the harp, puts his +hat, cane and gloves beside him on +the floor and looks around. He +glances at Louise, shakes his head +solemnly, coughs, wipes his forehead, +puts his handkerchief carefully +away, coughs again, moves +his chair and after some signs of +nervousness, says</i>]:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Miss ... may I have a +word with you? [<i>Louise doesn't hear.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>with growing embarrassment</i>]. +I ... I should like to speak to +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>a little wildly</i>]. Are you +there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>taken aback</i>]. Yes ... +no ... yes.... I.... Whom do you +mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Come here beside me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>astonished</i>]. Certainly, but....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>sighing</i>]. Come ... come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Aren't you making a mistake? +I'm not....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>raising herself halfway, left +elbow on table, head on hand, the other +arm outstretched on the table. She looks +unseeingly at him</i>]. Don't you want to?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> But I'm not ... how shall +I put it? I've come to speak with you +very seriously.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>has seated herself in the middle +of the couch. She extends her arms +with a smiling invitation</i>]. Don't you +dare?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>very considerably embarrassed +by this time. He coughs and +mops his face</i>]. It isn't quite necessary. +We can talk this way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. I will come to you, +you know. Ah, you don't realize....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>rising, disturbed</i>]. No. +Please stay where you are. Don't trouble +yourself. I can hear you from where you +are, and you can hear me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>ignores his words completely, +gets up dizzily and gropes with the aid +of the table toward the chair. She leans +on the arm of the chair and looks at Van +Elst. She points out the small chair</i>]. +Come here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>after some deliberation, sits +at her side</i>]. We had better.... [<i>His +voice dies in a mutter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>insistent</i>]. No. Here at my +side. Sit close to me, then I'll be able to +hear you better.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>pulling his chair closer</i>]. I +don't see why....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Don't you think I'm very beautiful +and wise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> I have very serious things +to discuss with you. Will you listen to +me? [<i>He assumes an important pose.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Why do you take on such a +severe tone? You must be more gentle—very +gentle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Hm! Very well. First +let me tell you who I am. My name is +Van der Elst. I'm the new attorney back +home, and I am a friend of your father's.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> I think a lot of your father. +As you know, Mr. Degudo was your +father's lawyer; but he's gone away and +I've taken his place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Why am I honored with these +confidences?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> You ought to know who I +am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Well, what's your name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. I told you that +my name is Van der Elst, attorney-at-law.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>smiling vapidly</i>]. Have you +any bonbons with you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> What sort of a question is +that, madam? You're not listening to +me. [<i>He gets up angrily, about to collect +his effects prior to leaving.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Are you leaving me so soon? +If I were you, I wouldn't leave.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Van Elst walks back and forth +in annoyance, muttering all the +while.]</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> What are you muttering +about? Come here and sit by my side. +Last week I received flowers from an old +gentleman, an old gentleman. At least +that is what the girl said. He sent them +for my shoulders, mind you. You see, +he had seen my shoulders. Please sit +down. That's why he sent me flowers—[<i>extending +her hand</i>] and this ring came +with them. Look! [<i>Van der Elst has +taken a seat. She thrusts her hand before +his face.</i>] It's the thin one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Madam, I didn't come for +this frivolity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> What would you give if you +could kiss me?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Van Elst coughs and fumbles with +his handkerchief.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Do you know what I suspect? +I suspect that you are the old gentleman +in question.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>getting up in high dudgeon</i>]. +Madam, I consider that accusation entirely +improper, in view of the fact that +I am a respectable married man. I want +you to know that I keep out of these +things. My reputation is above reproach. +Do you intend to listen to me or not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Don't shout so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Do you talk this way always? +You amaze me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. I suspect you are +the gentleman with the pretty touch about +my shoulders. Well, sit down. Is he +gone? Are you gone?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>stepping forwardly boldly</i>]. +I am still here. This is positively the +last time I'll ask you to listen to me. I +assure you, my patience is nearly exhausted. +Your father and mother, your +family have asked me to bring the following +to your notice. Your present conduct +has caused a great scandal. You've left +your family for a man who is too far +above you socially ever to make you his +wife. Consequently, you have become his +mistress.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> I'm not through yet. Your +father and mother have requested me to +ask you to come back home. They await +you with open arms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Don't be silly. Sit down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Oh, it's useless.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>incoherently</i>]. Will you promise +to tell me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> I suppose I'll have to wait. +[<i>He sits down in utter despair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>goes up to him unsteadily, +groping for the arm of the chair. With a +laugh</i>]. Tell me, which one was it. This +shoulder or this one? Ah, aren't you +clever! You're the old gentleman, aren't +you, you old duck?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> A useless commission. +Poor parents!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> What's that? The joke's on +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Next she'll ask me to dance +with her, I suppose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Dance? No dancing. Don't +get up. You needn't get up. I don't +mean it ... really, I don't.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Louise sits in front of the harp and +runs her fingers idly over the +strings. Then slowly, she plays the +same melody she hummed previously. +She hums it again dreamily. +The music grows softer and +softer. She sighs, stops playing, +her head drops to her hands and +she falls limply to the floor.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Good God, what's this? It +wasn't my fault. I suppose I was cruel +to her. [<i>Walks excitedly back and forth. +Sophie enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> What's the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Look at your mistress. I +can't make out what's wrong with her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Oh, that's nothing. It happens +every day. Just a fainting fit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> What a life! What a life! +Why don't you do something? She can't +be allowed to lie there that way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Just a minute. [<i>She seizes +Louise by the waist and lifts her from +the floor. Van Elst assists her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Nothing to worry about [<i>arranging +Louise's clothes</i>]. Now you lie +here and you'll be quite all right in a +very short while. She gets that way quite +frequently.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>sinks into a chair</i>]. This is +frightful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie</span> [<i>confidentially</i>]. Madam drinks +heavily in the afternoons and in the evening, +too, when the master is here. Yes, +and then they sing together and madam +plays on that thing there. [<i>Points to the +harp.</i>] It's very nice sometimes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Who is the master?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> I don't know, sir. But that's +what I've been told to call him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Are they happy together? +Or do they sometimes quarrel?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> I don't know. I don't think +so, for he's very good and likes her very +much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Madam never weeps or is +sad? I ask these questions for madam's +sake.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Oh, yes, she weeps sometimes. +But it's mostly when she hasn't had a +drink and feels out of sorts. But it's +soon cured when I fetch the wine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Then she occasionally +thinks of her home. That may help us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> May I suggest something, +sir? [<i>She busies herself clearing off the +table.</i>] If I were you, I should go away +quietly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Go away?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> For madam can't bear men +folks around her when she sobers up. +If I were you, I'd go away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> No, I'll stay. If she's +sober after a while, perhaps she'll be +able to talk to me coherently.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> You must know best. But I +warn you, madam can't bear to have anybody +else with her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> What! Do you think I +came for that purpose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Of course. You're not trying +to tell me that you came to read the +newspaper with her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> You keep your mouth shut. +I've come to ask madam to return to her +parents.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Oh, that's it, is it? You're +from the family. I see. Of course ... +but she won't go with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>dreaming aloud</i>]. William, +William! He's bolting. Help! Help! +Oh, the brown mare! Look! [<i>Sighs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> She's delirious again. She +goes on like that a lot. She was in a +carriage with the master the other day, +when the horse bolted. That's what she +always dreams about these days.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Ah, wait. I left my earrings +at the doctor's. Mother, mother, I love +you so. [<i>She sighs heavily. A ring is +heard below.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Ah, that's Mr. Vennema. +Open the door for him. It's her father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Ought I let him in? He +mustn't see her in that condition.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Please open the door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Oh, all right. [<i>She goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Van der Elst listens.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Hopla, hopla, hopla....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Vennema and Sophie mount the +stairs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie</span> [<i>to Vennema behind the portières</i>]. +Come this way, sir. You may +come in.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Vennema comes in hesitating and +stops at the door. He is a kindly +country parson type, wholly gray, +with a gray beard and mustache. +He is wearing an ecclesiastical hat, +a black coat and black trousers. +He gazes about anxiously and finally +his eyes light on Van der Elst. +Van der Elst beckons to Vennema +and indicates Louise on the couch. +Sophie goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> There she is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Is she ill?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> No, that isn't it. She's +dreaming. She's very nervous. She was +quite agitated a moment ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> What did she say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> She wouldn't listen to me. +She insisted on speaking of other things. +As a matter of fact; she acted very +queerly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> First prize ... splendid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> What's the matter with +her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> I don't know. Nerves perhaps.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Has she had a fainting +spell?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Don't worry about it. +She'll be better in a little while.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema</span> [<i>noticing the bottles</i>]. Is +she...?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> I don't know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Couldn't you tell? You +may tell me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Yes; I think a little.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> That hurts. I never +thought she would allow herself to get +into such a state. Has she been this way +for a long time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> About ten minutes, I +should say. But she'll be quite all right +in a little while.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> I can't help being distressed +over it. That she should have +descended to this!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Do you know what the +maid told me? She said that they are +happy together, and that he is truly in +love with her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Yes. But why did he allow +her to go this far?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> She won't see anybody.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Not even me? Her father?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Perhaps you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> What do you think? Will +she come home with us? Have you found +out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> She didn't pay any attention +to me. She didn't quite understand +my mission. I don't know. Perhaps you +had better speak to her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>calling</i>]. I.... Oh.... Help! +[<i>She sits up in the middle of the couch, +with her hands to her face. She droops +and seems to fall asleep in a sitting posture.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Is she...?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Yes, she's coming to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>wakes with a start</i>]. Bah! +[<i>She looks around, does not recognize +Van der Elst and Vennema. Then, peering +closer, she registers surprise, sudden +fright and finally anger. Van der Elst +is about to speak, but she interrupts +him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Who are you? [<i>Coughs.</i>] +Who are you and what is your business +here? Go away.... Go away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Madam.... I....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Let me speak. [<i>He goes +toward Louise.</i>] Louise ... it is I. +Don't you recognize me? [<i>After a +pause.</i>] Louise!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. Father!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Aren't you glad to see your +father?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>in a low tone of voice</i>]. Oh, +father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> You are not ill, my child?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> No. Why have you come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> I wanted to speak to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Why did you come? Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema</span> [<i>seating himself beside +Louise on the couch</i>]. Listen to me, my +dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> I came to find out whether +you are happy or not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> I don't know. Happy ... +that's a strange word.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Why strange? Are you +happier here than—with us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>leaning forward on her hands</i>]. +Than with you? [<i>Looking up.</i>] I prefer +to be here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Don't you miss us all, just +the least little bit?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Sometimes, when I'm alone. +All the same, I'd rather be here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Aren't you deluding yourself? +Wasn't your life with us at home +better?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Better? What do you mean, +better?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> You know what I mean. +Don't you regret running off with ... +him ... and spreading sorrow in our +hearts?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> I loved him. And then I +yearned for freedom, for the pleasures +of life and travel. At home everything +was so dull and monotonous. I couldn't +stand the smug people at home. Their +life is one round of lying and gossiping, +of scolding and backbiting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> But what of this sort of +existence? You don't quite appreciate +the damage you have done. How you +have stained the fair reputation of your +parents. I wonder whether that has ever +occurred to you? You say that you do +not like the people who are our neighbors +back home, but it is these very people +who make and unmake reputations. We +must live with them. Can't you realize +that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Father, I'm sorry, but I +couldn't go back to them. The commonplace +tattlers with their humdrum, uneventful +lives scarcely exist for me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> They don't exist for you, +you say. But, remember, that they despise +you. They and their contempt do +not reach you, but they reach us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>almost inaudibly</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> But your future? Have +you thought of that? What will it be? +Wretchedness and contempt. When I +came in and saw you stretched out in that +condition, I....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Father, I want to forget. I +don't want to think of the past.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> In order not to think of +the past, you resort to drink?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Sometimes it is hard to forget.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Tell me, Louise: does he +love you, and do you love him? And +even if this be true, will he continue to +love you always? Won't the time come +when he will grow indifferent to you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>getting up</i>]. Never ... never. +Not he. You don't believe that such a +thing is impossible? He cannot forget +me. I have given him everything ... +my love, myself ... all that is truly myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Aren't you a little too optimistic?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Not when it concerns him. +He knows what I have sacrificed. He +knows what I have given him. There is +no room for doubt, father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Very well, we will not +speak of it again. But how about us, +Louise? Don't you ever think of us? +Don't you ever long to come back to us, to +the old home where you were born? +Wouldn't you like to see it again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>sadly</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema</span> [<i>anxious and excited</i>]. Then +come back with me. Come back to us. +You know my motive for coming. Won't +you come back home with me? Everything +is in perfect readiness for you: +your little room, the flowers, the trees +... everything. Louise....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Father, that can never be. +Never.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Why not? We have arranged +everything. Nothing will be lacking +for your welcome, your comfort.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Why should I bring misfortune +to you? It would simply add to +your unhappiness. Isn't it better now +that I am away from home? Later on, +perhaps.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Later on? Did it ever occur +to you that there may be no later on? +You may not find us then. We are getting +old, your mother and I.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Don't, please!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Come, Louise. Come. +Think of the happiness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> How about the townfolks? +Would they accept me again, do you +think?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Don't think of them. +Those who are sincerely friendly to us, +will continue to be so. The rest don't +count. Ah, if we only could have you +back, my child!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. Father, I cannot +go back. Don't you see that it is +utterly impossible? I am changed now. +And then I am not strong enough. Life +is so long and I cannot bear to face it +alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> But you will have us. +You belong to us, and your place, if you +have a place in the world, is with your +mother and father. Your old home is +waiting for you with welcoming arms. +Summer is coming and you know how +splendid the garden and the orchard are +when the lilac trees are in bloom. Do you +remember the little tree you planted once? +Doesn't your heart yearn to see the +little flowers that have sprouted on its +branches? Everything is just waiting +for you to come home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>dreamily</i>]. Everything....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> You will come, won't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> I cannot. I simply cannot. +It is your happiness that I am thinking +of. The intrusion of my life would spoil +everything. Everybody will blame you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> My child, I have long ago +put behind me what the world says.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>suddenly</i>]. And William? +What about William? What about him +when I go back? No, I can't do it. I +cannot leave him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> What about your mother, +Louise? She is waiting for you. She +will be at the window to-night, waiting +and peering out. Your chair is ready for +you and she herself will open the door to +greet you, to take you to her heart again. +Do you know, Louise, she has been getting +very gray of late. Come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Mother isn't ill?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Your mother wants to see +you before she....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>rising to her feet</i>]. I ... I +will do it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Thank you, my child. [<i>He +embraces her</i>]. We shall go at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Ring for Sophie, please. Yes, +we will go at once. [<i>Close to him.</i>] +Mother is not seriously ill?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> I am sure, your return +will be her cure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst</span> [<i>who has listened attentively +throughout the whole conversation</i>]. +Madam, permit me also to thank you for +this resolve to return home. You are +going to make many hearts joyful because +of your decision.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> I hope so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie</span> [<i>enters</i>]. Is there anything +you wish, madam?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Pack my traveling bag. Get +my black hat and gray coat. I am leaving +at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Very well, madam, but....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Lose no time about it. I'm in +a hurry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> A lady called to see, madam, +and I told her you were engaged.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> What did she want? Did she +say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> She said she would come back. +She insisted on speaking with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Do you know the lady?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Yes ... no. That is, I don't +know. I believe I've seen her before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Didn't she say what her errand +was?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> No, madam, but she said she +would come back soon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> When she comes, show her into +the drawing room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Yes, madam.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Have everything ready at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Yes, madam. [<i>She goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> You will excuse me. I must +change my clothes. I shall put my old +ones on. You see, I kept them. Then I +must write to him. I must tell him why +I am going away. [<i>She goes out by the +side door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> I feel as if I have never +been as happy as this before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> It will help your wife to +get well. She hasn't been very well these +last few weeks.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Yes, I know it will do her +heaps of good. I am quite happy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Don't excite your wife unnecessarily +to-night. Any shock may be +too much for her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Yes, we will postpone our +rejoicing until to-morrow. You must +come to-morrow, but alone. Bring your +wife Sunday evening. The process of acclamation +will be slow, of course. There +is a train about six, I believe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> Yes, at five forty-five. We +have an hour yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> The sooner the better. She +must have a change at first. I thought it +mightn't be a bad idea if we paid my +brother a visit at Frezier. It might do +her a lot of good. Yes, I think what +she needs is a change of scene.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> If I were you I would stay +home the first week.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> We'll attend to that later. +It is terrible when you think of the condition +she was in when we arrived.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> The maid said that it happened +quite often, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> What do you think he will +do when he learns that she is gone?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Van Elst.</span> If he is anything of a man, +if he is a man of honor, then he will stay +away. If not, there is the law. But I +believe it can be arranged although she +loves him very much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Let's not speak of it any +more. She will change slowly, and so the +past will be forgotten.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie</span> [<i>enters with a traveling bag</i>]. +Oh, isn't Madam here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> She will be back very +shortly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Here's the bag. Everything +is ready. [<i>Puts Louise's things on the +table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>enters very simply dressed with +a letter in her hand</i>]. Here I am. [<i>To +Sophie.</i>] Have you packed everything?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Yes, everything is ready.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Help me then.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sophie helps Louise with her coat.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Mail this letter for me. [<i>The +bell rings downstairs.</i>] Go and see who +it is. I am not at home to anybody +now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> It may be the lady who was +here before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Heavens, I had almost forgotten +her. If it's the lady—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> See who it is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie</span> [<i>going</i>]. Yes, madam.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> What is it, Louise? What +does the lady wish?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Nothing, father [<i>with a forced +laugh</i>]. Nothing at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Must you see her? Can't +you say that you are about to go away +on a trip and that you cannot see her? +Say that, and let us go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Oh, it's nothing. I will just +speak to her, and then we will go at +once. [<i>She laughs again in a forced +manner.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> But why are you so excited?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie</span> [<i>entering</i>]. Madam, the lady +has gone away. She left this. [<i>She extends +a visiting card.</i>] But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> What is it, Sophie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> She told me to tell you that +you must think of the bay mare. Here +is her card.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. Oh, a card [<i>tries +to restrain herself</i>]. Give it to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> Then she said nothing about +Elsa and the race.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Louise takes the card and goes a +little to the side.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> What's the matter, Louise? +What ails you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>deeply affected</i>]. Father, +father! [<i>She looks from the card to her +father with tears in her eyes; then she +goes mutely toward the couch, sits down, +and stares blankly in front of her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>sobbing</i>]. I can't do it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema</span> [<i>takes the visiting card from +her hands</i>]. Must you pay all that? +Have you lost all that money?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Through gambling?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Good God! Gambling, +too? And to-night you must pay all that +money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie</span> [<i>entering excitedly with a +small bunch of flowers</i>]. Madam, +Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>looks up slowly and sees the +flowers</i>]. What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> These are the compliments of +Mr. De Brandeis.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Mr. De Brandeis?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophie.</span> The gentleman is waiting below +in a carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Tell that gentleman to go +away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> It was too beautiful, too good +to be true. Now it will never be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> Why not? I shall give you +the money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Father, I tell you it can never +be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vennema.</span> What do you mean? What +are you going to do, Louise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise.</span> Father, I can't go back home +with you. [<i>To Sophie.</i>] Take the +flowers and tell Mr. De Brandeis that—that—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Vennema sinks into a chair. Sophie +stands at the door with the flowers. +Van der Elst stands listening +anxiously.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Louise</span> [<i>with a sob in her throat</i>]. Tell +him, that I am going to stand by him.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stands looking at the door, +twitching her handkerchief nervously.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="GRANDMOTHER" id="GRANDMOTHER"></a>THE GRANDMOTHER</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By Lajos Biro</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Authorized Translation by Charles Recht.<br /> +Copyright, 1920, by Charles Recht.<br /> +<br /> +All rights reserved.<br /> +</p> + + + +<p> </p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Grandmother.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Her Grandchildren:</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Blond Young Lady.</span></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Brunette Young Lady.</span></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bride.</span></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Melancholy Girl.</span></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl.</span></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Jovial Young Man.</span></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span></span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> + +<p>All rights reserved by Charles Recht and John Biro, 47 West 42nd Street, New +York. Applications for permission to produce <span class="smcap">The Grandmother</span> must be made to +Mr. Charles Recht.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE GRANDMOTHER</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Lajos Biro</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> + +<p>[<i>There is only this notable thing to be +said about Grandmother—her hair is +snow white, her cheeks rosy and her eyes +violet blue. She is the most youthful and +enthusiastic, best and most cordial grandmother +ever beloved by her grandchildren.</i></p> + +<p><i>The scene opens on a broad, sunny terrace +furnished with garden furniture, +chairs, small tables and chaises longues. +Back of the terrace is the beautiful summer +residence of Grandpa. Behind it is +a large English garden in its lenten blossoms. +The Disagreeable Young Man enters; +yawns; stretches discontentedly; +slouches here and there; picks up a volume +from the table, then falls into a couch +at right and, lighting a cigarette, begins +to read. The other grandchildren enter +in groups of two and three and seat themselves.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Jovial Young Man.</span> My word, +children, I am too full for utterance. +What a spread! Now for a good cigar +and a soft chair and I am as rich as a +king.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blond Young Lady.</span> We are having +such charming weather. Is not this +park like a paradise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Brunette Young Lady.</span> How did +you like the after-dinner speeches?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span> Uncle Heinrich +was splendid. [<i>There is great laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Uncle Heinrich +was never strong in speechmaking, +but in the beginning even Demosthenes +stuttered.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Jovial Young Man.</span> The trouble +is that Uncle Heinrich stopped where +Demosthenes began. Besides a manufacturer +has no time to parade on the sea +shore with pebbles under his tongue.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is more laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Children, +who wants a cigarette?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blond and Brunette Young +Ladies.</span> I!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man</span> [<i>handing them +cigarettes and lighting a match for them. +He speaks to the Bride</i>]. Aren't you +going to smoke?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bride.</span> No, I thank you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Jovial Young Man.</span> Lord, no! +She must not! The noble bride must not +permit tobacco smoke to contaminate her +rosy lips. [<i>They all laugh.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span> May I have a +cigarette, too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Jovial Young Man.</span> You be careful +or the same misfortune may happen +to you at any minute that happened to +Lucy [<i>pointing to the Bride, he hands the +Vivacious Girl a cigarette.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span> If my bridegroom +shall object to tobacco smoke, he +can pack his things and—off.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Brunette Young Lady.</span> Well, +young people, what are we going to do +next?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Melancholy Young Lady.</span> Let's +remain here. The park looks so beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blond Young Lady.</span> Oh, I object. +We'll remain here until the sun +goes down a little and then we'll play +tennis. [<i>They agree.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Melancholy Young Lady.</span> Can't +we remain here? Let us enjoy the spring +in the garden.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Jovial Young Man.</span> Let's play +tennis. A little exercise is the best cure +for romance. And you can enjoy your +spring out there as well—you dreamer. +[<i>They laugh.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> You +are as loud as the besiegers of Jericho in +your planning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Jovial Young Man.</span> Behold! +He speaketh. [<i>They laugh.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> You +are so overbearing in your jollifications +that it is positively disgusting. For the +past hour you have been giggling away +without the slightest reason. You have +so much leisure you do not know what +to do with yourselves.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Brunette Young Lady.</span> Curt, +must you always be the killjoy in a party!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> If +you would at least take yourselves off +from here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Brunette Young Lady.</span> But admit +that to-day there is reason enough +for every kind of jollity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Is +there, indeed? You have finished a costly +banquet and now are enjoying a good +digestion. You are young and have a +healthy animal appetite; but why deck +sentimentalism on your horns?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Your pardon! +Do you suppose that all a person +gets out of this remarkable occasion is a +good dinner? Have you no appreciation? +Do you realize what this day means to all +of us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Very +well, my boy. Now tell me why you are +so over-filled with joy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Yes, I will. +I am glad that I can celebrate the golden +wedding of my grandfather. I am glad +that just thirty years ago to-day grandfather +founded his factory. I am glad +because of our large and happy family +and that so many lovely and good and +happy people have come here to celebrate +this remarkable event; all of them good +and prosperous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Prosperous!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Yes, I rejoice +at their prosperity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> The +laborers down there in the foundry, however, +are not as over-joyed at this prosperity +as you are. For this prosperity +of yours they have been starving these +past thirty years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Grandfather +was always good to his employees.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Indeed! +Our grandfather has managed by +hook or by crook to amass an enormous +fortune and you are glad that his fortune +is now made and you do not have +to resort to questionable means.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man</span> [<i>hurt</i>]. +Questionable means? You do not intend +to assert that our grandpapa....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> I assert +nothing. But mark you this. There +is only one honest way to gain a large +fortune: inheriting it. You cannot earn +it without resorting to questionable +means.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Shame! to +say a thing like that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Brunette Young Lady.</span> Shame +to say that of grandfather.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>All of them are upset and disturbed. +Grandmother appears on the balcony.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Why, children, what +is it? What's wrong?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl.</span> +Why, grandma, just think of it! Curt +said that grandpa made his fortune by +questionable means.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> I did +not say exactly that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Yes, you +did.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Others</span> [<i>chiming in</i>]. You said +that. Yes, you said that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother</span> [<i>as energetically as +possible for her</i>]. I think you are in +error, Curt. In the entire fortune of +your grandpa there is not a single copper +that was not earned by him in the most +honest way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> But +look, grandma,—what I said was—generally +in those cases no one—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother</span> [<i>hurt</i>]. When I tell +you this, boy, it <i>is so</i>. When I tell you +anything, my child, you should never +doubt it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Yes, +grandma, you are quite right. But I +maintain that human learning and experience +have proved—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Why don't +you stop? Do you perhaps want to insult +grandma? You are taking too great +an advantage of our good nature—I'll +tell you that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> If +you folks had any sense—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Don't you +know enough....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Other Grandchildren.</span> ... to +shut up. [<i>Attacks him.</i>] Indeed. He's +right. Stop—shut up!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Disagreeable Young Man, in +spite of this scene, wants to continue, +but the protests of the +others drown his voice. He casts a +contemptuous look at them, shrugs +his shoulders, throws himself on +the sofa and begins to read.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Now don't +trouble yourself about him any longer, +grandma dear. Here, rest yourself nicely +in this chair among us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Jovial Young Man.</span> There, +grandma! The old folks are there at +table. We young people are here in the +fresh air. We lacked only the youngest +one of us all. And here you are.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a glad assent as the Grandmother +sits down.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span> Are you quite +comfortable, grandma dear? Would you +like something to rest your feet on?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Thanks, my child, I +am quite all right, and I am very happy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blond Young Lady.</span> Yes, grandma, +you ought to feel happy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Brunette Young Lady.</span> How +young you look, and how lovely and rosy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Bride.</span> Grandma?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> What is it, my angel?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Bride.</span> Tell me, how does a +woman manage so that she is admired by +her husband for full fifty years, as you +are by grandfather?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Brunette Young Lady.</span> Yes, +how did you manage that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> You will all be loved +and admired after fifty years as I have +been. A person must be good. We must +love each other.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> But, grandmother, +is it not wonderful at seventy +and seventy-five to love so beautifully +and purely as you and grandfather have +loved?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> You must always be +good and patient with each other, and +brave. Never lose courage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span> But look, grandma, +not even I could be as brave as you +have been. And no one can ever say +that I lose courage. [<i>They all laugh.</i>] +I still shudder when I think how in those +days in March of Forty-eight you had +to run away! Or in the Sixties when the +city was bombarded, you with my mamma +and Aunt Olga escaped from the burning +house....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl.</span> +How interesting that was! Tell us another +story, grandma. [<i>There is loud +assent.</i>] Yes, yes, grandma shall tell us +another story!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> But I have already +told you so much. You heard all our +history.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl.</span> +Not I, grandma; I have not heard the +story of when you got lost in the <i>Friedrichsrode</i> +forest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> That story I have told +you so often, children. Ask your mother +about it; she'll tell you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> But, grandma, +I haven't heard it, either. Just tell +us that one and we'll go to play tennis.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> If +you'll pardon me, grandma, I believe you +ought to tell us a different incident to-day. +I've heard that history so often. +Tell us something contemporaneous. +Tell us about the first sewing machine, or +the first railroad, or about crinolines or +contemporary theater or art.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blond Young Lady.</span> No. Tell +us about the woods.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Others.</span> Yes, yes, that's right,—the +story of how you got lost.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Disagreeable Young Man shrugs +his shoulder and buries his head in +his book. Grandmother begins to +narrate, and the circle of her admiring +and attentive audience +grows narrower.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Well, my children, it +happened in the year eighteen hundred +and forty, a year after grandfather was +almost shot by error. In those days the +happenings took us quite far away from +here to <i>Friedrichsrode</i>, my dears, where +you have never been. Your grandfather +had a small estate there, and that's how +we made our livelihood. We always +wished and prayed to get the management +of the large estate of the Count of +Schwanhausen. But we lived there humbly +in the little house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blond Young Lady.</span> Was my +mamma home then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> No, she was not in this +world yet. But a year later she was +born. So your grandfather and I lived +then in this little red-roofed house. Your +grandfather used to be busy with the land +the entire day. Those days I was taking +on weight, and to reduce I would take +long walks through the country. One +day in October—in the afternoon—it +was beautiful sunny autumn weather—as +usual I went again on my long walk. +The country there is very beautiful—all +hills—covered with dense forests. This +afternoon my way led into the famous +forest of <i>Friedrichsrode</i>. When there I +kept on walking—here and there I would +stop to pick a flower.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blond Young Lady.</span> Don't forget, +grandma, that it was quite late when +you left your house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> You are correct, my +dear. After our dinner I had some things +to attend to in the house and that is +why I started that day later than usual. +I was walking through the forest, going +in deeper and deeper and suddenly I began +to realize that it was getting dark. +It was in the autumn and the days were +getting short. When I saw how dark it +was I turned homeward. But in the +meanwhile evening came sooner than I +counted, and suddenly it got dark altogether. +Now, thought I, I must hustle. +I hurried, as well as I could, but as much +as I hurried I did not get home. Had I +gone home the right way I would have +reached it then, and so it dawned on me +that I had lost my way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl.</span> +Great Heavens....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Indeed, my child, I +was really lost in the woods and in the +<i>Friedrichsrode</i> forest, besides. What +that meant you cannot now realize. +Since that time these woods have been +considerably cleared. Then also we live +in a different world to-day. But in those +days <i>Friedrichsrode</i> forest was a very, +very dismal place. It spread away into +the outskirts of the Harz Mountains and +was a wild, primæval, godforsaken forest +where highway robbers were hiding. And +in the winter it was full of the wolves +from the mountains.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a short pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span> And what did +you do, grandmother?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Really, my child, a +great anxiety came upon me. I stood +still and tried to fix my direction. Then +I turned to a path which I figured ought +to lead me home. After I walked a half +hour, however, I found that the forest +instead of getting lighter was getting +thicker and thicker. Three or four times +I changed the direction, but no matter +what I did I was walking deeper and +deeper into the dark woods. Although +the moon was shining then, the branches +of the trees were so thick that I could +see but little. And that which I saw only +frightened me all the more. Every tree +stump, every overhanging bough excited +my fear. My feet were continuously +caught in the roots of big trees and the +undergrowth tore my bleeding face and +feet; and it was getting cold. I felt +frozen. And dismally quiet, terribly +dark was the night in the forest.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a pause and suspense.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl.</span> +Good heavens, how perfectly terrible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Then I collected all +my wits. I said to myself, if I keep on +walking I will lose my way all the more. +I ought to remain where I am and wait. +When grandfather arrives at home and +misses me he will start a search with all +the help and people. They will go into +the woods with torchlights—and then I +will see the lights from the distance and +hear them call—and in that way I can +get home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Melancholy Girl.</span> How clever +of our grandma!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span> And how brave!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> After I figured it out +that way I looked about for a sheltered +nook. In between two great big tree +trunks there was a cave, like a little +house, a place all filled with soft moss. +A pleasant camping place. I fell into +this and prepared myself for a long wait. +I waited and waited. The night peopled +the woods with every kind of sound. +There was whistling, whispering, humming, +blowing, screeching and once from +a distance a long-drawn deep howling. +This, undoubtedly, was the wolves.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl</span> +[<i>frightened</i>]. Merciful God!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Then even I lost my +courage. I wanted to run, run as long +as my legs would carry me. But I realized +that the wiser thing was to be +brave and to remain. So I set my teeth +and kept on waiting. And then gradually +the howling ceased. So, I sat there +on this moss bank gazing before me and +thought of many things. Suddenly I +heard a noise. I straightened up and +listened. It was a breaking sound and +a rustle as though some one were brushing +aside the underbrush.... The noise was +getting nearer and nearer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl.</span> +Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> I was all ears. I +could clearly distinguish now that the +sound was the footstep of a human being. +Frightened, I started through the darkness +and in the dull moonlight I saw that +actually a man was wading through the +thick underbrush. What was I to do? +I pressed against the tree trunk and my +fast and loud-beating heart seemed to be +in my throat. The man was coming directly +toward me. When he was about +three paces away from me and I could +distinguish his features, I felt like fainting. +It was "Red Mike," a very dangerous +fellow from our neighborhood; every +one knew that he was a robber. Later +on he was imprisoned for murder, but he +escaped from the prison. Now he was +there.... What should I do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl</span> [<i>breathlessly</i>]. +What did you do, grandma?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl.</span> +Great heavens!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Frenzied, I pressed +against the tree trunk. I wanted to hide, +but the robber came directly toward me. +It was as though he could see me even in +this darkness and behind the tree trunk. +Later on when he was caught, I found +out, that he had prepared this very place +for his night's resting place. He had +brought all this soft moss there. Of +course, I did not know that he just came +there to rest himself. All I saw was that +he was making directly for me. Then +such a great fear seized me that instead +of pressing against the tree and letting +him go past me I shrieked just as he came +within reaching distance and began to +run away.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a pause and feverish suspense.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Melancholy Young Lady.</span> And +what did the robber do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> My sudden outcry and +quick dash and flight scared him for the +moment, but as soon as I appeared in +the moonlight, he saw that it was only a +woman who had frightened him. He +hesitated about a half a minute and then +started to pursue me. I flew. I was +young then and I could run fast. But it +was dark and I did not know my way. +As I pressed forward I ran into a low +branch and tore my cheek so that it bled. +My skirt was torn into shreds. Suddenly +I stumbled and fell to the ground. I +hurt myself quite painfully, but in spite +of that I rose quickly again and commenced +to run. And the robber after me +all the time. I could always hear his +footsteps in my wake. My legs were +about to give up under me when I got +an idea to hide behind a stout tree trunk. +But the robber began to look through the +underbrush in the spot where he last saw +me and he finally found me. He came +near me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span> How terrible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> With one single leap I +jumped aside and started to run again. +Once more I fell down and again I rose. +Aimlessly I ran wildly over roots and +stones and the robber kept right on after +me.... And the distance between me +and my pursuer was getting smaller and +smaller. Then all of a sudden I heard +the sound of his footsteps close to me—to +escape him I tried to dash away to +the side of him but with a sudden leap he +was by my side. Grabbing me by my +shoulder he threw me on the ground and +I fell upon my back. He had run so fast +that he dashed a couple of paces past me. +He turned about.... And then I saw +that he had a long knife in his hand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl</span> +[<i>horrified</i>]. Merciful heaven!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> I could not budge.... +And unspeakable fear seized me.... +Then I uttered a piercing shriek.... +The robber approached me.... I cried +out....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Melancholy Girl.</span> Then, then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span> Well, what then? +What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> I cried out like an insane +person.... Now the robber was +near me.... He bent over me.... Suddenly +a voice sounded,—<i>"who is crying +here?</i>" the voice seemed to be near—the +footsteps were audible—"who's crying +here?" it asked the second time.... The +branches parted and a man in a hunting +habit with a gun in his hand appeared. +The robber took to his heels and flew into +the woods. The hunter now came near +me and called to a second man who followed. +They helped me to rise and they +carried me over to a small clearing. +There I saw a light buggy into which +they lifted me. Soon they fetched the +horses and in a half hour I was in the +Schwanhausen castle sipping hot brandy +which they had prepared for me. The +man in the hunting habit was the Count +of Schwanhausen, who had been hunting +in the woods.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl.</span> +How interesting!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> In the castle I quite +recovered. Then the Count ordered another +carriage to drive me home and at +six in the morning I landed safely in our +house. Your grandpa was sick with worry.... +He and his people had searched +for me in the woods for hours. And +that's how I was almost lost. A few days +later grandpa went to thank the Count +for my rescue. The Count took a liking +to him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blond Young Lady.</span> That was +the old Count?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Yes, it was the old +Count. The benefactor of all of us. +Grandfather thanked him courteously for +my rescue. The Count took a liking to +him and soon after that grandfather got +the management of the entire Schwanhausen +estate, which proved the cornerstone +of his good fortune. And that, my +dears, is the story of my night wander in +the forest of <i>Friedrichsrode</i>.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Amid general approval, Grandma +is surrounded. Everybody is indebted +to her. They all speak at +once, except the The Disagreeable +Young Man.</i>]</p> + +<p>"We thank you cordially."</p> + +<p>"It was wonderful, grandma, dear."</p> + +<p>"Interesting."</p> + +<p>"Beautiful."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Vivacious Girl.</span> Grandma is a +story-telling genius!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> A most wonderful +one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Very well, my dears, +but now run along to your tennis game. +I'll come over later to watch on. [<i>They +all agree.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Polite Young Man.</span> Three cheers +for our very dear beloved charming +grandma.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They all cheer three times, then they +surround her, kiss her cheeks and +head and stroke her hair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blond Young Lady.</span> <i>Adieu</i>—old +sweetheart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Brunette Young Lady.</span> <i>Auf +wiedersehen</i>—precious grandma!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sentimental High School Girl</span> +[<i>inspired</i>]. Grandma...! [<i>She rushes +over to her and covers her with kisses.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Grandma bears all these amiabilities +with pleasurable tolerance. She +strokes and pats the grandchildren +and as they retire, she fondly gazes +after them, nodding to them with +laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Curt—are not you +going with the others?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Why not, Curt? Why +don't you follow the others?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> They +think that I am bad, and I know that +they are stupid.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Grandmother seats herself in silence. +The Disagreeable Young Man continues +to read. He lights a new +cigarette. While lighting the cigarette—</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> +Grandma!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> What is it, my child?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Whatever +you say might, of course, never be +questioned....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> No, my child.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> But +do tell me, grandma, did that story really +happen in that way?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> What story?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> The +night wander through the <i>Friedrichsrode</i> +forest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Certainly it happened.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Exactly +as you told it? Are you quite sure +that you remember all those details.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Yes. Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Oh, +just so. I merely wanted to inquire, +grandma.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> But why did you want +to?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> I was +just interested. Thank you very much. +Do not let me disturb you further, grandma.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He takes up his book and continues +to read. The Grandmother remains +seated, but is greatly embarrassed. +She would like to keep +on gazing into the park and enjoying +her quiet, but she is unable +to concentrate her thoughts. She +is getting more and more disturbed. +There is a pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Curt!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Yes—grandma, +dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Curt, why have you +asked me if the forest incident happened +that way?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> I +merely wanted to find out, grandma.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> You just wanted to +find out. But one does not ask such +things without some good reason.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> I was +interested.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Interested, but why +are you interested?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Just +in general. But do not get disturbed on +account of that, grandma.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Grandmother is silent.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Disagreeable Young Man picks +up his book. The Grandmother +wants to drop the subject at this +point. She does not succeed, but +continues to look over toward the +young man. He reads on.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Curt!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Yes, +grandma, dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Curt, you shall tell me +this instant the reason you asked if the +incident really happened that way!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> But, +grandma ... I have already told you +that....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Don't you tell me again +that you asked because the matter interested +you. You would have never asked +such a question if you did not have some +special reason for it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> But, +grandma—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Curt, if you do not +this moment tell me why you said that, +then I will never—[<i>her voice becomes +unusually strong and shakes</i>] I never in +my life will speak to you again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> But, +grandma, I do not want to insult you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> You will not insult me +if you will be sincere and open. Be sincere +always.... And you will not insult +me. But when your trying to hide something +from me, that's when you insult me. +This <i>cannot</i> remain in this way. I must +know what you are thinking of. I must +know that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> +Grandma, I was afraid you would be +angry with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> If you keep on concealing +things I shall be angry. No matter +what you have to say I will not hold +it against you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Are +you not angry now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> No. I promise you I +will not be angry. Say whatever you +please.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Disagreeable Young Man hesitates.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Well, then—out with +it—speak up, my child—be it what it +may as long as it is frank and sincere. +Speak up, now. Come!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Very +well then, grandma. It is impossible that +the story could happen in that manner.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother</span> [<i>offended</i>]. You mean +that I told an untruth?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Oh, +no. I did not say that the incident did +not happen. I just maintain that it +could not have happened in that fashion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> But why not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> On +account of the details. Let us take it for +granted, grandma, that as you state you +commenced your exercise walk in the +afternoon....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Let's +say that you had household duties and +started out quite late—about four +o'clock.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother</span> [<i>disturbed, but following +the cross-examination intently</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Very +well, you started at four o'clock. The +walk was a good one and consumed—let +us say one hour and a half.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Yes? +This brings us to half-past five o'clock. +In October and in a dense forest besides +at half-past five it gets fairly dark at +that hour. It was then that you lost +your way?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grandmother</span> [<i>nods her head in +assent</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Another +hour and a half spent in wandering—that +brings us to seven o'clock. +You now reached the night lodging of the +robber—here you were resting?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Exactly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Quite +right. Here you were waiting and resting—now +we want to allow a long time +for it—three—let us say—three and a +half hours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother</span> [<i>involuntarily</i>]. Not +that long....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Oh, +yes ... let us ... we'll then have reached +half-past ten o'clock. It could not have +been later when this forest bandit came. +These pirates never go to their bed +earlier. They shun light and must get +their sleep while the world is the darkest. +He could not sleep during the day even +in the darkest forests. In short, then, it +was half-past ten?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Half-past ten.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> Now +began the flight and the pursuit. You +ran—let us say—full twenty minutes. +That is a great deal. I was a track runner +in college and I know what a twenty-minute +stretch means. Shall we say +twenty minutes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Twenty minutes....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> In +any circumstances it was not even eleven +when you were safely out of danger?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> And—and +a half hour later you were sipping +hot brandy in the Schwanhausen castle?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Disagreeable Young Man is silent.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother</span> [<i>shaking with excitement</i>]. +And—what else?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Disagreeable Young Man is silent.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother</span> [<i>she shakes with fear +as to what will follow, but forces herself +to face it</i>]. Well, say on ... what +else?...</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> At +six on the following morning you reached +your home and.... [<i>He pauses.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother</span> [<i>if her loud-speaking +could be called an outcry, then she cries +out</i>]. Yes ... what else?... What +happened then?... Go on ... say it +... what else?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man.</span> [<i>He +makes a new attempt to tell everything +bravely at once, but hesitates.</i>] In the +morning at six you arrived at home. The +others had no idea as to the distance between +<i>Schwanhausen</i> and <i>Friederichsrode</i>. +But I wanted to see it myself, so +last year with a friend I made a walking +trip through that country. I tried this +distance. In a half hour of slow walking +I reached from one place to the other, +and the horses in the Count's stables and +the state roads were then in as good condition +as to-day. Well, then you started +from the castle at half-past five in the +morning; but you reached there at half-past +eleven the preceding night.... You +spent six entire hours in the castle.... +Then, another point—they all speak of +the count, the "benefactor of us all," as +the "old count."... When he died five +years ago he was, of course, an old count—an +old man of seventy.... But thirty-five +years ago he was a young count of +thirty years of age.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Grandmother stares blindly at +The Disagreeable Young Man. +Alarmed over Grandma's fright, he +rises. He would very much like to +make up to her, but he lacks words. +The Grandmother rises. She is +trembling. With a shaking hand +she is nervously setting her dress +to rights. Twice she turns to the +young man to speak to him, but is +unable to utter a word. Then she +turns; she is about to return into +the house, but remains near the +doorstep. Again she turns; then +she is about to go in, but turns +again and remains standing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Disagreeable Young Man</span> [<i>frightened</i>]. +Grandma, you gave me your +word that you would not be angry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grandmother</span> [<i>she stumbles forward +a few steps. She is disturbed, shivering, +beside herself, complaining, almost sobbing</i>]. +You are an evil child! You are +a bad, bad and evil child! For fifty years +I have told the same story ... always +the same, same way ... and that it happened +differently never, never even came +into my mind.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SOUL" id="THE_SOUL"></a>THE RIGHTS OF THE SOUL</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By Giuseppe Giacosa</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Translated by Theodora Marcone.</span></small></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Stewart & Kidd Company.<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"> +Paolo.<br /> +Mario.<br /> +Anna.<br /> +Maddalena. +</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Place:</span> <i>A villa at Brianza</i>.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time:</span> <i>The Present</i>.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">Applications for the right of performing <span class="smcap">The Rights of the Soul</span> must be made to<br /> +Frank Shay, who may be addressed in care of Stewart & Kidd Company.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE RIGHTS OF THE SOUL</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">One Act</p> +<p class="alignright">By Giuseppe Giacosa</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A living-room well furnished +in an old fashioned style but not shabbily. +An open fire-place which is practical. +A sofa. A writing desk. A closet at +the back. Door leading into Anna's room +at the left. Window at the right.</i></p> + +<p><i>Paolo discovered seated at the writing +desk upon which there is a confusion of +papers.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Servant—Maddalena enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Well, has he returned yet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Not yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> He has taken a lot of time!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> I have been to look for +him at the post-office café.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I told you to look in his room +or in the garden. Was it necessary to +run all over the country?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Well, he wasn't there. I +thought—he wasn't at the café either, +but they told me where he was. He'll be +back shortly. He went to the station at +Poggio to meet the engineer of the water-works. +The tax collector saw him walking +in that direction. He always walks. +But he will return by the stage for the +engineer's sake. The stage should be +here at any moment. It is sure though—but +are you listening?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No, you may go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Yes, sir. But it is sure +that if the engineer of the water-works +really has arrived, your brother will not +go away to-morrow. You and the Madame +intend leaving to-morrow, don't +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Yes, no. I don't know—yes, +we will go to-morrow. Leave me alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> All right, but see if I'm +wrong; I say that your brother will not +go to-morrow, nor the day after to-morrow. +Here he is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Were you looking for me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Yes, for the last hour.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Mr. Paolo—here asked +me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I did not ask you anything. +Go away. [<i>He takes her by the arm and +pushes her out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> What has happened?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> She is insufferable. She isn't +listening at the door, is she?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> No, be calm. I hear her in +the garden. What has happened. You +look worried.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> [<i>After a pause.</i>] Do you +know why Luciano killed himself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> He killed himself for love. +For the love of Anna. I have the proofs—they +are there. I just found it out +to-day, a moment ago. He has killed +himself for the love of my wife. You +and I were his relatives; he was a companion +of my youth, my dearest friend. +He tried to force her to love him. Anna +repulsed him. He insisted; Anna responded +firmly. Highly strung as he +was, he killed himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> How did you find out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I have the proofs, I tell you. +I have been reading them for an hour. +I am still stunned! They have been there +for a month. You know that as soon as +I received the telegram in Milan which +announced his suicide in London, I ran +to Luciano's room and gathered all his +papers, made a packet of them, sealed it +and brought them here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I told you to burn them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I wanted to in fact, but afterward +I thought it better to await until +the authorities of the hospital, to whom +he left the estate, had verified the accounts. +The Syndic came here an hour +ago, at the order of the sub-Prefect, to +give me the wallet which was found on +the body and which our Consul at London +had sent to the Minister of Foreign Affairs. +I was just putting them away into +the desk, when I felt the desire, I don't +know why, to look for the reason of his +suicide which no one seemed able to explain. +[<i>Mario starts.</i>] You know? You +suspect the reason?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I suspected—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Suspected! You knew of this +love?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> There, there—I will tell you, +don't excite yourself!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No—answer me! You knew?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I felt it—yes, that Luciano +had lost his head.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> And you never told me anything?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> What had I to tell you? Seen +by others these things appear greater and +more offensive than they are. And then +I might have been wrong; I only see you +and Anna during your short visits to the +country. If you, who are with her all the +year, did not see anything—On the +other hand, Anna was always on her +guard, she knew perfectly how to defend +herself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Oh, Anna! Anna is a saint! +I have always thought of her as one. But +now—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> GO on—tell me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> In the wallet I found a letter +and noticed it was in Anna's handwriting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> It was perfectly natural that +your wife should write to our cousin.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Naturally. In fact I have +read it. Here it is. [<i>Mario starts to +take the letter.</i>] No, listen. [<i>Paolo +reads.</i>] "You write me—" [<i>Speaking.</i>] +There is no heading. [<i>Reads.</i>] +"You write me that if I do not respond +you will return immediately. I love my +husband, that is my reply. This and only +this forever. I beg you not to torment +me. Anna."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Of course.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> The scoundrel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> What date is that letter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Luciano himself has noted the +hour and date when he received it. He +has written here in pencil: "Received +to-day, June 26th, 11 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>" He killed +himself before noon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Poor devil! One can see it +was a stroke of insanity; the writing +demonstrates that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> You understand of course, +that I did not stop there. I opened the +wallet. I found four other letters from +Anna all on the same subject and in the +same tone. The first is of three years +ago. There are few words; returning a +letter Luciano had written. I looked for +this letter of Luciano—it is not here. +He must have destroyed it. He kept +only hers. Then there is a little note +from Rome; you know Anna visited her +mother in Rome for a month last winter. +It is evident that our friend followed her. +Anna would not see him. Then there is +a long one which must have been written +when he was recovering from that fall +he had from his horse. It is the only +long one among the five—written in affectionate +terms, reasoning and begging; +a wonderful letter, good, noble; read—read.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario</span> [<i>turning away</i>]. No, no, no.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Listen, just a moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I don't like to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> She does nothing but speak +of me, of our brotherly youth. She also +speaks of you. She says—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> No, I beg of you. It is useless. +I know what kind of a woman my +sister-in-law is and I do not need proofs +of her virtue. Why do you bother with +those poor letters? Is it so painful that +you have found them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Painful? It is painful that I +am not able to weep for a false relative +who wished to rob—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Let him alone. He is dead +and he has not robbed you of anything. +If he had lived he would not have robbed +you of anything, the same. Anna knew how—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> And this? And this? You +count as little? Is this painful? I never +had the shadow of a <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'doube'">doubt</ins> about Anna, +but—nor has the thought even passed +through my mind—but it is different not +to have doubted and not to have thought, +than to possess the palpable proof of her +faith and love. "I love my husband." +It is the refrain of all her letters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Was it necessary that she tell +you this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> She did not tell it to me, she +told it to him. She told it to him—do +you understand? Luciano had all the +qualities which attract a woman. He +was younger, better looking than I, well +spoken, full of fire and courage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> How it pleases you, eh? To +praise him now!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Painful? If I had burned, as +you wished, those papers and then one +day I should have discovered this love, +who could then have lifted this suspicion +from my mind?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> The certainty makes you suspicious!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> If you had feared this a year +ago, that which has happened would not +have occurred. I was wrong not to have +opened your eyes. A long way off, perhaps +Luciano would not have killed himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> But I would have lacked the +proof.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Your tranquility costs much—to +the others.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> You can't pretend that I +should feel badly about the fate of Luciano?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I am not speaking of him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Of whom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Of your wife. Think what she +must be suffering!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Do you think she blames herself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Of course.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I have noticed that she was +distressed but not agitated.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> You do not see the continuous +things, you only see the unexpected. +Besides, Anna is mistress of herself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> And she has done her duty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> It is a long time that she has +done her duty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I shall know how to comfort +her, there, I shall know how to cheer her. +You shall see, Mario. I feel that we +have returned to the first days of our +marriage, that I possess her only from +to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Leave it to time. You have +read—you have known. It is enough. +It is useless that Anna knows you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> She was here when the Syndic +gave me the wallet. But she went out +immediately.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> She does not know, then, that +you have read?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> She will have imagined it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> No. And in any case she +would be grateful if you pretended to +ignore....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Let us be frank. Don't let's +argue. Nothing is more dreadful than +to plan out a line of conduct in these +matters. What she has done, Anna has +done for me. I must think how to repay +her. She has done this for me, for +me, do you understand?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> And who says the contrary? +See how you excite yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Excite myself! Certainly, I +will not go and say: "I have read your +letters and I thank you very much!" +One understands that when I speak of +comforting her and of cheering her I intend +to do it with the utmost tenderness, +with the utmost confidence. I have always +been like that. That was why she +loved me. There is no need to change +even to please you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> How you take it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> It is you who take it badly. +You have not said a just word to me. +I thought better of you. One would say, +to hear you, that this discovery was a +disgrace. What has happened new from +this discovery? Luciano is dead a month +ago, the first grief is passed. If I did +continue to ignore everything he would +not return to life! He did not arrive to +do me the harm he wanted to; so peace +be to his soul. There remains the certainty +of my wife's love and for this, +think as you wish, I rejoice for the best +fortune which could befall me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Come here. [<i>He places an +arm around Paolo's shoulders.</i>] Are you +persuaded that I love you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Well then, if you are content, +so am I. Is it all right?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Yes. Now go and pack your +bag.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Ah, that reminds me, I cannot +go to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> The engineer Falchi has arrived. +The day after to-morrow there +is the meeting of the water-company.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Send it to the devil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I cannot, I am the president.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> It was arranged that we were +to leave to-day. We put it off on your +account.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> How could it be helped? I +had to sell the hay. It is now a question +of three days, four at the most.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Suppose Anna and I go meanwhile? +The rent of the chalet started +fifteen days ago. You can join us as +soon as you are free.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> If you think so—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I'll tell you. The day after +to-morrow is Anna's birthday. Until +the business kept me in Milan all of +July, we always passed that day together—just +Anna and I. We did not do this +on purpose, but things turned out so. +Last year I was able to be free early in +July and we came here to stay until September. +Well, three days before her +birthday, Anna begged me to take her +for a trip to Switzerland. She did not +tell me, you understand, the reason for +her desire, but insisted upon leaving immediately. +We went to Interlaken and +from there we went up to Murren. The +day of Saint Anna we were at Murren. +The place was so lovely, Anna liked it so +much, that then and there I arranged for +a chalet for this year. Fifteen days ago +you—who never go anywhere, proposed +to accompany us—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Did you find it indiscreet of +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No. You saw that Anna was +pleased. She is very fond of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> When you had to postpone +your leaving it was the same as to propose +that we wait for you. But the first +delay would still have allowed us to arrive +in time; this second one will not and +I, for my part, now especially desire to +be there at the date arranged. It is +childish if you wish—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> No. All right. I will join you +there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> We postponed leaving until to-morrow +to await you; but now that you +cannot come immediately we could leave +this evening. [<i>Jumping up.</i>] I must +go—to get out of here. Those letters—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Burn them. Give them to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Ah, no. Not yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Go. Go to-night; it is better. +But will Anna be ready?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> [<i>Who has entered.</i>] To do +what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I was telling Paolo that I could +not leave to-morrow; nor for three or +four days. It is useless that you two +remain here in the heat to wait for me. +Paolo must be back in Milan at the beginning +of September; every day shortens +his vacation. I am old enough to +travel alone; as soon as I am free I will +join you. What do you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> As you wish.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I also desire to thoroughly +clean the house and garden. Your presence +would disturb me, and mine is necessary.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> And as Mario cannot accompany +us, we may as well leave this evening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> So soon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Your luggage is almost finished.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> You will gain a day. At this +season of the year it is better to travel +by night than by day. It is full moon +now and the Gottard road is charming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna</span> [<i>distractedly</i>]. Yes. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario</span> [<i>to Paolo</i>]. Then you had better +go immediately to the stable in the +piazza and tell them to hold a carriage +in readiness. At what time does the train +leave from Poggio?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> At seven-thirty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Tell him to be here at six. I +would send Battista to order it, but the +engineer has taken him with him. On the +other hand, it is better that you see the +carriage, they have some antediluvian +arks!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> And why don't you go? He +knows you and you know his arsenal—you +could choose better.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> You are right. Anna, I will +send Maddalena to help you with your +luggage?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Yes, thank you, Mario. Send +Maddalena to help me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario</span> [<i>going off</i>]. And dinner is at +five.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mario exits. Silence. Anna takes +a few steps toward the desk. +Paolo goes impetuously to Anna +and takes her in his arms and kisses +her. She breaks away violently.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Oh—horrors! [<i>The words +escape from her lips involuntarily.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo</span> [<i>drawing back</i>]. Anna!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> There was one of my letters in +that wallet, wasn't there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Yes, there was.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> You have read it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> I have killed a man and you +embrace me for that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I did not want to. I was +tempted not to tell you. Mario advised +me not to. Then when I saw you—you +filled me with tenderness! But what did +you say, Anna?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Pardon me. And promise me +that you will never speak of all this +again, either here or hereafter, directly +or indirectly—never.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I promise.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> You will not keep your promise.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> You will not keep it. I know +you. What a misfortune that you should +have known it! I saw it in your eyes +when I came in, that you knew. I had +hoped that you would always have ignored +it. I prayed so. But as soon as I entered +I saw immediately. [<i>With imperceptible +accent of mocking pity.</i>] You +had a modest and embarrassed air. I +know you so well. Do you want to hear +how well? When Mario proposed you +go for the carriage, I thought—he will +not go. When you sent him instead, I +smiled.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I noticed it, but I did not understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> That's nothing. That you +should read me is natural.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> In exchange, eh? And listen—when +Mario was leaving, I also thought—now +the minute we are alone—he will +come to me and embrace me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> You imagine very well....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> This was also natural, wasn't +it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I love you so much, Anna. [<i>A +long pause.</i>] It is strange that in your +presence I have a sense of restraint. I +tell you something and immediately I +think should I tell her? Was it better I +kept silent? It is the first time I have +had this feeling toward you. We both +need distraction.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Yes, but to-day I do not leave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No? But you said—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> I have thought better. There +is not the time to get ready.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Your luggage is ready.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Oh, there is a lot to do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> We have eight hours yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> I am tired.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Mario has just gone to order +the carriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> It can be for another day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Perhaps to-morrow—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Not to-day, certainly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I do not know how to tell +Mario. It looks like a whim.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Oh, Mario will understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> More than I do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> I did not wish to say—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Anna, you do not pardon me +for having read those letters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> You see, you have already begun +to speak of them again! Well, no, +no, no, poor Paolo, it is not that. I have +nothing to pardon. Believe me. I feel no +wrath or bitterness. I would have given, +I don't know what, if you had ignored +them; for you, for your own good, for +your peace, not for me. But I felt that +some time or other—[<i>Pause.</i>] It has +been a useless tragedy—you will see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> I don't know, don't mind me—excuse +me—[<i>Moves up.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Are you going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> So you won't tell me if we go +to-morrow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> We have time to decide.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Oh, rather. [<i>Anna exits. +Silence.</i>] A useless tragedy! [<i>Sits with +his elbows upon his knees and his head in +his hands.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario</span> [<i>coming in</i>]. There, that is +done. And Anna?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> She's there. [<i>Points off.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Maddalena will be here immediately, +she was still at the wash-house. +Well? Come, come, shake yourself, throw +off that fixed idea. One knows that at +the first opportunity—You do well to +leave immediately, the trip will distract +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> We do not go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Anna does not want to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo</span> [<i>shrugs his shoulders</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> She said so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> She understood, she asked me.... +I could not deny it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> She asked of her own accord, +without you saying anything?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Do me the favor of not judging +me now. If you knew what I am +thinking!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Do you wish that I speak to +her? I am convinced that to remain +here is the worse thing to do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Try it. Who knows? You +understand her so well! She said so herself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> And you promise me not to +worry meanwhile?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> What is the use of promising? +I wouldn't keep it. She said that also. +She knows me. Don't you know me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Is she in her room?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I think so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Leave it to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Look out. If—no, no, go—go—we +shall see afterwards. [<i>Mario +exits. Paolo takes a letter from the wallet, +reads it attentively, accentuating the +words.</i>] "You write me that if I do not +respond you will return immediately." +[<i>Speaks.</i>] You write me! Where is that +letter? [<i>Reads.</i>] "I love my husband, +that is my response. This and only this +forever. I beg you not to torment me." +[<i>Speaks.</i>] I beg you not to torment me. +Ummm!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Here I am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I do not want you. It is not +necessary now. If I need you I will call +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Excuse me, Mr. Paolo, is +it true what they say in the village?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> That the Syndic brought +the wallet of Mr. Luciano this morning +with a lot of money in it for the poor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Why—no.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> The servant of the Syndic +said so just now at the wash-house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> There was nothing in it, the +Syndic also knows that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Oh, it would not have +been a surprise. Mr. Luciano came here +rarely, but when he did he spent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I am glad to hear it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Last year, to Liberata, the +widow of the miner who went to America +to join his son and to whom you gave +fifty lire, well, Mr. Luciano gave her a +hundred.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> What a story! He wasn't +even here at that time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Wasn't even here? I +saw him—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Nonsense. That woman received +word that her husband was killed +in the mine and that the son wanted her +to come to America, the day I left for +Switzerland, a year ago yesterday or to-day; +I remember it because I gave her a +little money in gold which I had been +able to procure. She was to leave two +days later....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> There you are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> There you are nothing. Luciano +was not there. I know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> He arrived the day Liberata +started on the trip.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Oh, two days after we left.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Yes it was. He arrived +in the morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> At his villa.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> No, no, here; but he +found only Mr. Mario; he was annoyed, +poor man, and left immediately.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Ah, I did not know that.... +Then you are right. Ah, so he came? +You are right. Oh, he was generous! He +left all to the hospital.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Yes, yes. But what hospital?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario</span> [<i>off stage calls</i>]. Maddalena!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Maddalena.</span> Here I am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario</span> [<i>entering</i>]. Go to Madame, she +needs you. [<i>Maddalena exits.</i>] [<i>To +Paolo.</i>] I have persuaded her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> How fortunate to have a good +lawyer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> And as you see, it did not take +long.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Want to bet I know how you +convinced her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Oh, it was very easy—I said....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No, let me tell you. I want +my little triumph. You gave up the +business which held you here and decided +to leave with us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Even that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Eh? Didn't I know it? When +you went away I was just about to tell +you and then I wanted to wait and see. +So now Anna is disposed to go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Are you sorry?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I should say not! All the +more as we are—are we not going to +amuse ourselves? The place, the trip, +the hotels,—yes, it is better. But the +company! To run away there should be +few of us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> What are you saying?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo</span> [<i>putting his two hands on +Mario's shoulders and facing him.</i>] To +run away—do you understand? We +must be a few. To run away as Anna +and I did last year.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I do not understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> You did not tell me that Luciano +had been here last year, nor the day +that he was here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I don't know. I do not remember....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> There you are—there—there—I +knew it! And you knew that Anna +went away from here to avoid him. And +I went with her all unconscious. You +saw the husband take a train and run +away before the other could arrive!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> And if it is true. It does not +tell you more or less than the letters did.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No, a little more. Everything +tells a little more. One grain of sand +piles up upon another, then another until +it makes the mill-stone which crushes you. +It tells a little more. It is one thing to +keep away and another to run away. One +can keep away a trouble without begging +it to keep its distance. But one runs +away for fear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Uh-h!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> And look here—look—look, +let us examine the case. Let us see. It +is improbable that he wrote her he was +coming. It is sure he did not or she +would have responded: "You write me +that you are coming.... I love my husband—I +beg you to remain away."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> So she, foreseeing his intentions, +felt that he would come ... by +that divination....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> You are the first husband to +get angry because a wife did her duty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Uhm! Duty—the ugly word!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> If there ever was a virtuous +woman!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Woman or wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> It is the same.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No, no. A woman is for all; +a wife for myself alone. Do you believe +one marries a woman because she is virtuous? +Never! I marry her because I love +her and because I believe she loves me. +There are a thousand virtuous women, +there is one that I love, one alone who +loves me ... if there is one....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Paolo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> And if she loved him? Tell +me—and if she loved him? And if she +repulsed him for virtue's sake, for duty's +sake? Tell me. What remains for me? +If he was alive I could fight, I might win +out. But he is dead—and has killed himself +for love of her. If she loved him no +force can tear him from her heart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> You think—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I do not know. It is that—I +do not know. And I want to—I want to +hear her shout it to my face. And she +shall tell me.... Oh, I had the feeling +the minute I had read the first letter. I +did not then understand anything, indeed, +I believed; "I love my husband." But I +immediately felt a blow here—and it +hurt me so! And I did not know what +it was. Oh, before some fears assume +shape, it takes time. First they gnaw, +they gnaw and one does not know what +they are. I was content.... I told you +I was content, I wanted to <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'pursuade'">persuade</ins> myself, +but you have seen that fear gnaws at +my heart. And if she loved him? Oh, +surely! The more admirable eh? All the +world would admire her. I, myself, +would admire her upon my knees if she +were the wife of another. But she is +mine. I am not the judge of my wife. I +am too intimately concerned, I cannot +judge, I am the owner—she is mine—a +thing of mine own. I must admire her +because, while she could have cheated me +altogether, she has only cheated me a +little. I see that which she has robbed +me of, not that which remains.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> You are crazy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Do you not see that I am +odious to her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Oh, God!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Odious! You were not here a +moment ago. Don't you see that it is +necessary that she have your help in order +to support my presence?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> To-day. Because she knows +that you have read—did I not tell you? +Because it is embarrassing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Not only to-day. You never +move from this place. For fifteen years +that you have played at being a farmer, +you have not been away for a week. And +fifteen days ago you suddenly decided to +make a tour of the world. She begged +you to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> I swear—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I do not believe you. Anna +shall have to tell me. [<i>Paolo starts to +exit.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> What are you doing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I am going to ask her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> No, Paolo.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Let me go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> No. Maddalena is also there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Oh, as far as that's concerned—[<i>Calls.</i>] +Anna—Anna!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> You are very ungrateful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> If she loved me it did not come +hard for her to repulse him. If she loved +him, I owe her no gratitude.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna</span> [<i>entering</i>]. Did you call me?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mario starts to exit.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No, no. Remain. Yes, Anna. +I wanted to ask you something. Whatever +you say, I shall believe you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Of that I am certain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Was it you who begged Mario +to come with us? Not to-day I don't +mean.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Neither to-day nor before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> You see!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> I did not beg him nor did I +propose it to him. But I must say that +if Mario had not come I would not have +gone either.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> To-day. But fifteen days ago?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Listen, this is ridiculous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> It is natural that Paolo desires +to know and he has the right to question +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> I do not wish to impose my +rights.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> There you are wrong. We +must value our own and respect those of +the others. Fifteen days ago I would +have gone with you alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Oh, blessed God!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> You were afraid that she +would say no?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> But his consent to accompany +us greatly relieved me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Which is to say that my +company would have weighed upon +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Not weighed. It would have +annoyed me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> May one ask why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> You may as well. Because I +was shadowed by an unhappiness which +you ignored at the time, whereas now +you know the reasons. Knowing them, +you will understand that I must be very +worried, but for the sake of your peace +I must hide my unhappiness, seeing that +I had nothing to reproach myself with +in relation to you. You understand that +for two to be together, always together, +it would be more difficult to pretend all +the time—all the time! While the presence +of a third person—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> But listen—listen—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Mario had the good idea to accompany +us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Mario, who knew him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> I ignore that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Did he ever speak of it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Do not reply, Anna, do not +answer, come away—he is ill, he does not +reason—poor devil—it will pass and he +will understand then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> No, it is useless.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> A useless tragedy, isn't it, +Anna?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Do you require anything more +of me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo</span> [<i>imperiously</i>]. Yes. I want the +letters which you wrote to Luciano.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> That is just. I will go and +get them. [<i>Exits.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> All!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Anna returns and hands Paolo a +key.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> They're in my desk, in the first +drawer at the right. They are tied with +a black ribbon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Very well. [<i>Exits.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> Pardon him, Anna, he does not +know what he is doing. He loves you so +much? He is rather weak.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Oh, without pity!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> As are the weak. He loves +you—he loves you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Worse for him that he loves +me. He will lose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> No, it is for you to help him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> As long as I can.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Paolo returns with the letters in his +hand, goes to the desk and takes +out the others, throws them all into +the fire-place and lights them.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mario.</span> What are you doing? Look, +Anna!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Anna stands rigid, erect and watches +the letters burn, and murmurs as +though to herself.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Gone! Gone! Gone!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Paolo comes to Anna with hands +clinched as though in prayer, bursts +into tears and kneels before her. +Mario goes off half in contempt +and half in despair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo</span> [<i>on his knees</i>]. And now—can +you pardon me?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Anna reluctantly rests a hand upon +his head, then indulgently and discouragingly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Rise—rise.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Tell me that you pardon me. +I swear that I want to die here and now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Yes, yes. Arise; do not remain +so. It hurts me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo</span> [<i>getting up</i>]. I do not know +what got into my head—but I have suffered +a great deal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Yes, I see. Yes ... calm +yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Mario has no tact ... it was +he who irritated me from the first. [<i>Anna +starts to go.</i>] Do not go. Stay here a +moment. [<i>Anna sits upon the sofa.</i>] +You see the stroke of madness has passed. +It was only because Mario was here. +Mario is good, judicious, but his presence +irritated me. Yes, yes, you were right. +But you should also understand the state +of my mind. [<i>He walks up and down.</i>] +After all, what does all this disturbance +mean? It means that I love you—and it +seems to me that is the essential thing! +One must consider the source of things. +It is five years that we are husband and +wife and you cannot say I have ever +given you the slightest reason for regret. +I do not believe so. Five years are five +years. I have worked up to a good position, +you have always figured in society; +a pastime which I would never have enjoyed +alone. I had friends, the club, the +other husbands after the first year of +marriage, in the evenings, I renounced +everything. I do not wish to praise myself, +but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Please don't walk up and down +so much!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Excuse me. Will you allow +me to sit here next to you? [<i>Long +silence.</i>] When shall I see you smile, +Anna? No, do not get up. Then it is +not true that you have pardoned me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> What do you wish, Paolo? +What do you wish of me? Say it quickly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> You made me promise never +to speak of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Oh, but I said that you would +break your promise immediately. You +are wrong though, believe me. Do not +ask me anything. When there is no more +danger I promise you, and I will keep +my promise. I promise that I will tell +you everything without your asking me. +And it will be good for both of us. But +I wish to choose the moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> All right then. Do not tell me +anything, but come away with me, with +me alone. I will attend to Mario. He +was coming to please you and he will be +much happier to see us leave together, as +a sign of peace. I understand that it is +repulsive to you to re-awaken those memories; +all right, instead of awakening +them I will make you forget them—I +swear it—I swear that I will never speak +of them again, but come away with me +and you shall see how much love....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Do not insist, Paolo. If you +insist I shall come—but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No, no, I do not insist. You +see me here begging. I do not want you +by force. But listen once more, listen. +I am grateful, you must understand, for +that which you have done. Oh, I shall +recompense you for it all my life. I realize +there is not a more saintly woman in +all the world, but you must enter into +my soul and feel a little pity also for me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Ah, ah! [<i>Laughs bitterly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Why do you prolong this torment? +You said when there is no more +danger! What danger is there? Upon +whom depends this danger—from you +or from me? What can time change for +us? I have always loved you, I love you +now, and in this moment I love you as I +have never loved you! Give me your +hand—only your hand. God, Anna! +You are beautiful! And you are my +wife—you are my wife and the oath +which you took when we were married, +is not only one of faithfulness, but of love. +Come away—come away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> No, no, no.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No? Are you afraid? Afraid +of being unfaithful to him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Paolo—Paolo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> And if I wish it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> You cannot wish it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> And if I want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Paolo!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> And if I command?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> You will, in one moment, destroy +all my plan. Think—your violence +is a liberation for me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Oh, come—or speak!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Do you wish it so? We have +come to that? I have done all that I +could.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Yes, go on. Speak!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> I loved Luciano and I love him +still.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> I loved him. I loved him—do +you hear? I loved him and I feel an +immense joy to say it here and you did +not see that I was dying to say it—and +when I saw you nearly stifling me with +your ferocious curiosity, I said to myself: +"It will out—it will out"... +And it has come. I loved him, I love him +and I have never loved any one in the +world but him and I feel only remorse +for my virtue. Now do you know?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> Very well! [<i>Starts to go.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Ah, no. Remain here—now +you hear me. You wished that I speak, +now I do.... It is I now who command +you to stay. You must understand very +well that after a scene such as this, everything +is finished between us, so I must tell +you everything. I listened to you and +will listen to you again if you wish, but +you also must listen to me. What have +you ever done for me? What help have +you given me? Have you known how to +see when it was right that you should see? +Have you known even how to suspect? +Was it necessary that a man die.... +Not even that! When you were not suffering, +as you are suffering now, did you +know how to see the way I suffered? You +thought that my sorrow was for a dead +relative! You did not understand that +I was crazed; you slept next to me and +yet you did not realize that the first few +nights I bit the covers so as not to cry +out. In a moment you realize all the +facts. And what are these facts? That +I, your wife for many years, have defended +your peace in silence. I have fulfilled +that which people call my duty. +Then your curiosity is awakened and to +make up for lost time you wish to violate +my soul and penetrate down to its very +depths. Ah—Paolo, no, no; one cannot +do this. No, it will not help to know +everything. One does not enter into the +soul by the front door; one enters by +stealth. You have tried to force an entrance; +now you see there is nothing +more inside for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No? You think you are right, +eh? You are right—it is true—I admit +that you are right. So I have never had +your love, eh? You have said so; that +I never had your love! Then what? +You are right. Still—do you know what +I shall do? I throw you out of my house!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna</span> [<i>happily</i>]. I go, I go, I go and +I shall never come back! And do not beg +me and do not come after me. I have +no more strength to have pity, when I +say good-by, I shall be as dead to you! +[<i>Runs off into her room. Paolo stunned, +stares after her awaiting for her return. +Anna returns with her hat and cloak, +crosses to exit.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paolo.</span> No, Anna, no, no, no. Anna, +no. For pity's sake wait! We are both +mad. What will become of us? I need +you. [<i>Paolo tries to get in her way to +stop her.</i>] Do not go. I do not want +you to—remain here. I was crazy—do +not go, you will see that—for all my +life—[<i>Anna tries to break away.</i>] No, +for pity's sake—if you go—if you break +from me—if you speak—I feel that this +will be the end of everything! Remain! +Remain, Anna! [<i>She breaks away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anna.</span> Good-by! [<i>Exits.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="LOVE_OF_ONES_NEIGHBOR" id="LOVE_OF_ONES_NEIGHBOR"></a>LOVE OF ONE'S NEIGHBOR</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Leonid Andreyev</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Translated by Thomas Seltzer.</span></small> +</h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1914, by Albert and Charles Boni.</p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">Reprinted from "The Plays of the Washington Square Players," published by Frank +Shay.</p> + +<p>The professional and amateur stage rights on this play are strictly reserved by Mr. +Thomas Seltzer. Applications for permission to produce the play should be made +to Mr. Seltzer, 5 West 50th St., New York City.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>LOVE OF ONE'S NEIGHBOR</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Leonid Andreyev</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A wild place in the mountains</i>.</p> + +<p><i>A man in an attitude of despair is +standing on a tiny projection of a rock +that rises almost sheer from the ground. +How he got there it is not easy to say, +but he cannot be reached either from +above or below. Short ladders, ropes and +sticks show that attempts have been made +to save the unknown person, but without +success.</i></p> + +<p><i>It seems that the unhappy man has +been in that desperate position a long +time. A considerable crowd has already +collected, extremely varied in composition. +There are venders of cold drinks; +there is a whole little bar behind which +the bartender skips about out of breath +and perspiring—he has more on his +hands than he can attend to; there are +peddlers selling picture postal cards, +coral beads, souvenirs, and all sorts of +trash. One fellow is stubbornly trying +to dispose of a tortoise-shell comb, which +is really not tortoise-shell. Tourists keep +pouring in from all sides, attracted by +the report that a catastrophe is impending—Englishmen, +Americans, Germans, +Russians, Frenchmen, Italians, etc., with +all their peculiar national traits of character, +manner and dress. Nearly all +carry alpenstocks, field-glasses and cameras. +The conversation is in different +languages, all of which, for the convenience +of the reader, we shall translate into +English.</i></p> + +<p><i>At the foot of the rock where the unknown +man is to fall, two policemen are +chasing the children away and partitioning +off a space, drawing a rope around +short stakes stuck in the ground. It is +noisy and jolly.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> Get away, you loafer! +The man'll fall on your head and then +your mother and father will be making +a hullabaloo about it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> Will he fall here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> Yes, here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> Suppose he drops farther?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Policeman.</span> The boy is right. +He may get desperate and jump, land +beyond the rope and hit some people in +the crowd. I guess he weighs at least +about two hundred pounds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Policeman.</span> Move on, move on, +you! Where are you going? Is that +your daughter, lady? Please take her +away! The young man will soon fall.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady.</span> Soon? Did you say he is going +to fall soon? Oh, heavens, and my husband's +not here!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Little Girl.</span> He's in the café, mamma.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady</span> [<i>desperately</i>]. Yes, of course. +He's always in the café. Go call him, +Nellie. Tell him the man will soon drop. +Hurry! Hurry!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> Waiter!—Garçon—Kellner—Three +beers out here!—No beer?—What?—Say, +that's a fine bar—We'll +have some in a moment—Hurry up—Waiter!—Waiter!—Garçon!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Policeman.</span> Say, boy, you're +here again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> I wanted to take the stone +away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> What for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> So he shouldn't get hurt so badly +when he falls.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Policeman.</span> The boy is right. +We ought to remove the stone. We ought +to clear the place altogether. Isn't there +any sawdust or sand about?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Two English tourists enter. They +look at the unknown man through +field-glasses and exchange remarks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist.</span> He's young.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Tourist.</span> How old?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist.</span> Twenty-eight.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Tourist.</span> Twenty-six. Fright +has made him look older.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist.</span> How much will you +bet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Tourist.</span> Ten to a hundred. +Put it down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist</span> [<i>writing in his notebook. +To the policeman</i>]. How did he +get up there? Why don't they take him +off?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> They tried, but they +couldn't. Our ladders are too short.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Tourist.</span> Has he been here +long?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> Two days.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist.</span> Aha! He'll drop at +night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Tourist.</span> In two hours. A +hundred to a hundred.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist.</span> Put it down. [<i>He +shouts to the man on the rock.</i>] How +are you feeling? What? I can't hear +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man</span> [<i>in a scarcely audible +voice</i>]. Bad, very bad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady.</span> Oh, heavens, and my husband +is not here!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Little Girl</span> [<i>running in</i>]. Papa said +he'll get here in plenty of time. He's +playing chess.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady.</span> Oh, heavens! Nellie, tell him +he must come. I insist. But perhaps I +had rather—Will he fall soon, Mr. Policeman? +No? Nellie, you go. I'll stay +here and keep the place for papa.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A tall, lanky woman of unusually independent +and military appearance +and a tourist dispute for the same +place. The tourist, a short, quiet, +rather weak man, feebly defends +his rights; the woman is resolute +and aggressive.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> But, lady, it is my place. I +have been standing here for two hours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> What do I care +how long you have been standing here. +I want this place. Do you understand? +It offers a good view, and that's just +what I want. Do you understand?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>weakly</i>]. It's what I want, +too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> I beg your pardon, +what do you know about these things +anyway?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> What knowledge is required? +A man will fall. That's all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman</span> [<i>mimicking</i>]. "A +man will fall. That's all." Won't you +have the goodness to tell me whether you +have ever seen a man fall? No? Well, +I did. Not one, but three. Two acrobats, +one rope-walker and three aëronauts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> That makes six.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman</span> [<i>mimicking</i>]. "That +makes six." Say, you are a mathematical +prodigy. And did you ever see a +tiger tear a woman to pieces in a zoo, +right before your eyes? Eh? What? +Yes, exactly. Now, I did—Please! +Please!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The tourist steps aside, shrugging +his shoulders with an air of injury, +and the tall woman triumphantly +takes possession of the stone she +has won by her prowess. She sits +down, spreading out around her her +bag, handkerchief, peppermints, +and medicine bottle, takes off her +gloves and wipes her field-glass, +glancing pleasantly on all around. +Finally she turns to the lady who +is waiting for her husband in the +café</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman</span> [<i>amiably</i>]. You +will tire yourself out, dear. Why don't +you sit down?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady.</span> Oh, my, don't talk about it. +My legs are as stiff as that rock there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> Men are so rude +nowadays. They will never give their +place to a woman. Have you brought +peppermints with you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady</span> [<i>frightened</i>]. No. Why? Is it +necessary?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> When you keep +looking up a long time you are bound to +get sick. Sure thing. Have you spirits +of ammonia? No? Good gracious, how +thoughtless! How will they bring you +back to consciousness when he falls? +You haven't any smelling salts either, I +dare say. Of course not. Have you anybody +to take care of you, seeing that +you are so helpless yourself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady</span> [<i>frightened</i>]. I will tell my husband. +He is in the café.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> Your husband is a +brute.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> Whose coat is this? Who +threw this rag here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boy.</span> It's mine. I spread my coat +there so that he doesn't hurt himself so +badly when he falls.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> Take it away.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Two tourists armed with cameras +contending for the same position.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist.</span> I wanted this place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Tourist.</span> You wanted it, but I +got it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist.</span> You just came here. I +have had this place for two days.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Tourist.</span> Then why did you go +without even leaving your shadow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist.</span> I wasn't going to +starve myself to death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Comb-Vender</span> [<i>mysteriously</i>]. Tortoise-shell.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>savagely</i>]. Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vendor.</span> Genuine tortoise-shell.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Go to the devil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Tourist, Photographer.</span> For +heaven's sake, lady, you're sitting on my +camera!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Little Lady.</span> Oh! Where is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Under you, under you, lady.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Little Lady.</span> I am so tired. What a +wretched camera you have. I thought it +felt uncomfortable and I was wondering +why. Now I know; I am sitting on your +camera.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>agonized</i>]. Lady!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Little Lady.</span> I thought it was a stone. +I saw something lying there and I +thought: A queer-looking stone; I wonder +why it's so black. So that's what it was; +it was your camera. I see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>agonized</i>]. Lady, for +heaven's sake!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Little Lady.</span> Why is it so large, tell +me. Cameras are small, but this one is so +large. I swear I never had the faintest +suspicion it was a camera. Can you take +my picture? I would so much like to +have my picture taken with the mountains +here for a background, in this wonderful +setting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> How can I take your picture +if you are sitting on my camera?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Little Lady</span> [<i>jumping up, frightened</i>]. +Is it possible? You don't say so. Why +didn't you tell me so? Does it take pictures?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> Waiter, one beer!—What did +you bring wine for?—I gave you my +order long ago.—What will you have, sir?—One +minute.—In a second. Waiter!—Waiter—Toothpicks!—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A fat tourist enters in haste, panting, +surrounded by a numerous +family.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>crying</i>]. Mary! Aleck! Jimmie!—Where +is Mary? For God's sake! +Where is Mary?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Student</span> [<i>dismally</i>]. Here she is, papa.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Where is she? Mary!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Girl.</span> Here I am, papa.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Where in the world are you? +[<i>He turns around.</i>] Ah, there! What +are you standing back of me for? Look, +look! For goodness' sake, where are you +looking?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Girl</span> [<i>dismally</i>]. I don't know, papa.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> No, that's impossible. Imagine! +She never once saw a lightning +flash. She always keeps her eyes open as +wide as onions, but the instant it flashes +she closes them. So she never saw lightning, +not once. Mary, you are missing +it again. There it is! You see!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Student.</span> She sees, papa.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Keep an eye on her. [<i>Suddenly +dropping into tone of profound +pity.</i>] Ah, poor young man. Imagine! +He'll fall from that high rock. Look, +children, see how pale he is! That should +be a lesson to you how dangerous climbing +is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Student</span> [<i>dismally</i>]. He won't fall to-day, +papa!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Papa, Mary has closed +her eyes again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Student.</span> Let us sit down, papa! +Upon my word, he won't fall to-day. +The porter told me so. I can't stand it +any more. You've been dragging us +about every day from morning till night +visiting art galleries.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> What's that? For whose +benefit am I doing this? Do you think I +enjoy spending my time with a dunce?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Papa, Mary is blinking +her eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Student.</span> I can't stand it, +either. I have terrible dreams. Yesterday +I dreamed of garçons the whole night +long.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Jimmie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Student.</span> I have gotten so thin +I am nothing but skin and bones. I can't +stand it any more, father. I'd rather be +a farmer, or tend pigs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Aleck.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Student.</span> If he were really to +fall—but it's a fake. You believe every +lie told you! They all lie. Baedeker +lies, too. Yes, your Baedeker lies!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>dismally</i>]. Papa, children, he's +beginning to fall.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The man on the rock shouts something +down into the crowd. There +is general commotion.</i> (<i>Voices.</i>) +<i>"Look, he's falling." Field-glasses +are raised; the photographers, violently +agitated, click their cameras; +the policemen diligently clean the +place where he is to fall.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Photographer.</span> Oh, hang it! What is +the matter with me? The devil! When +a man's in a hurry—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Photographer.</span> Brother, your +camera is closed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Photographer.</span> The devil take it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> Hush! He's getting ready to +fall.—No, he's saying something.—No, +he's falling.—Hush!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man on the Rock</span> [<i>faintly</i>]. +Save me! Save me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Ah, poor young man. Mary, +Jimmie, there's a tragedy for you. The +sky is clear, the weather is beautiful, and +has he to fall and be shattered to death? +Can you realize how dreadful that is, +Aleck?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Student</span> [<i>wearily</i>]. Yes, I can realize +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Mary, can you realize it? +Imagine. There is the sky. There are +people enjoying themselves and partaking +of refreshments. Everything is so nice +and pleasant, and he has to fall. What +a tragedy! Do you remember Hamlet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>prompting</i>]. Hamlet, +Prince of Denmark, of Elsinore.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> Of Helsingfors, I know. Don't +bother me, father!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>dismally</i>]. He dreamed about +garçons all night long.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aleck.</span> Why don't you order sandwiches, +father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Comb-Vender</span> [<i>mysteriously</i>]. Tortoise-shell. +Genuine tortoise-shell.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>credulously</i>]. Stolen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vendor.</span> Why, sir, the idea!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Do you mean to tell +me it's genuine if it isn't stolen? Go on. +Not much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman</span> [<i>amiably</i>]. Are all +these your children?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Yes, madam. A father's +duty. You see, they are protesting. It +is the eternal conflict between fathers and +children. Here is such a tragedy going +on, such a heart-rending tragedy—Mary, +you are blinking your eyes again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> You are quite right. +Children must be hardened to things. +But why do you call this a terrible tragedy? +Every roofer, when he falls, falls +from a great height. But this here—what +is it? A hundred, two hundred feet. +I saw a man fall plumb from the sky.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>overwhelmed</i>]. You don't +say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aleck.</span> Children, listen. Plumb from +the sky.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> Yes, yes. I saw an +aëronaut drop from the clouds and go +crash upon an iron roof.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> How terrible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> That's what I call +a tragedy. It took two hours to bring +me back to consciousness, and all that +time they pumped water on me, the +scoundrels. I was nearly drowned. From +that day on I never step out of the door +without taking spirits of ammonia with +me.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter a strolling troop of Italian +singers and musicians: a short, fat +tenor, with a reddish beard and +large, watery, stupidly dreamy +eyes, singing with extraordinary +sweetness; a skinny humpback with +a jockey cap, and a screeching baritone; +a bass who is also a mandolinist, +looking like a bandit; a girl +with a violin, closing her eyes when +she plays, so that only the whites +are seen. They take their stand +and begin to sing: "Sul mare +lucica—Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia—"</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>dismally</i>]. Papa, children, look. +He is beginning to wave his hands.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Is that the effect the music +has upon him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> Quite possible. +Music usually goes with such things. +But that'll make him fall sooner than he +should. Musicians, go away from here! +Go!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A tall tourist, with up-curled mustache, +violently gesticulating, enters, +followed by a small group attracted +by curiosity.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> It's scandalous. Why +don't they save him? Ladies and gentlemen, +you all heard him shout: "Save +me." Didn't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Curious</span> [<i>in chorus</i>]. Yes, yes, we +heard him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> There you are. I distinctly +heard these words: "Save me! +Why don't they save me?" It's scandalous. +Policemen, policemen! Why don't +you save him? What are you doing +there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policemen.</span> We are cleaning up the +place for him to fall.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> That's a sensible thing +to do, too. But why don't you save him? +You ought to save him. If a man asks +you to save him, it is absolutely essential +to save him. Isn't it so, ladies and gentlemen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Curious</span> [<i>in chorus</i>]. True, absolutely +true. It is essential to save him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist</span> [<i>with heat</i>]. We are not +heathens, we are Christians. We should +love our neighbors. When a man asks +to be saved every measure which the +government has at its command should +be taken to save him. Policemen, have +you taken every measure?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> Every one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> Every one without exception? +Gentleman, every measure has +been taken. Listen, young man, every +measure has been taken to save you. Did +you hear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man</span> [<i>in a scarcely audible +voice</i>]. Save me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. Gentlemen, +did you hear? He again asked to be +saved. Policemen, did you hear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">One of the Curious</span> [<i>timidly</i>]. It is +my opinion that it is absolutely necessary +to save him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> That's right. Exactly. +Why, that's what I have been saying for +the last two hours. Policemen, do you +hear? It is scandalous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">One of the Curious</span> [<i>a little bolder</i>]. +It is my opinion that an appeal should be +made to the highest authority.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Rest</span> [<i>in chorus</i>]. Yes, yes, a complaint +should be made. It is scandalous. +The government ought not to leave any +of its citizens in danger. We all pay +taxes. He must be saved.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> Didn't I say so? Of +course we must put up a complaint. +Young man! Listen, young man. Do +you pay taxes? What? I can't hear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Jimmie, Katie, listen! What +a tragedy! Ah, the poor young man! +He is soon to fall and they ask him to pay +a domiciliary tax.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kate</span> [<i>the girl with glasses, pedantically</i>]. +That can hardly be called a domicile, +father. The meaning of domicile is—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James</span> [<i>pinching her</i>]. Lickspittle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>wearily</i>]. Papa, children, look! +He's again beginning to fall.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is excitement in the crowd, +and again a bustling and shouting +among the photographers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> We must hurry, ladies +and gentlemen. He must be saved at any +cost. Who's going with me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Curious</span> [<i>in chorus</i>]. We are all +going! We are all going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> Policemen, did you +hear? Come, ladies and gentlemen!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They depart, fiercely gesticulating. +The café grows more lively. The +sound of clinking beer glasses and +the clatter of steins is heard, and +the beginning of a loud German +song. The bartender, who has forgotten +himself while talking to +somebody, starts suddenly and runs +off, looks up to the sky with a +hopeless air and wipes the perspiration +from his face with his napkin. +Angry calls of Waiter! +Waiter!</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man</span> [<i>rather loudly</i>]. Can +you let me have some soda water?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The waiter is startled, looks at the +sky, glances at the man on the +rock, and pretending not to have +heard him, walks away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Many Voices.</span> Waiter! Beer!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Waiter.</span> One moment, one moment!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Two drunken men come out from +the café.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady.</span> Ah, there is my husband. +Come here quick.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> A downright brute.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunken Man</span> [<i>waving his hand to the +unknown man</i>]. Say, is it very bad up +there? Hey?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man</span> [<i>rather loudly</i>]. Yes, +it's bad. I am sick and tired of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunken Man.</span> Can't you get a +drink?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man.</span> No, how can I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Drunken Man.</span> Say, what are +you talking about? How can he get a +drink? The man is about to die and you +tempt him and try to get him excited. +Listen, up there, we have been drinking +your health right along. It won't hurt +you, will it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Drunken Man.</span> Ah, go on! +What are you talking about? How can +it hurt him? Why, it will only do him +good. It will encourage him. Listen, +honest to God, we are very sorry for you, +but don't mind us. We are going to the +café to have another drink. Good-by.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Drunken Man.</span> Look, what a +crowd.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Drunken Man.</span> Come, or he'll +fall and then they'll close the café.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter a new crowd of tourists, a +very elegant gentleman, the chief +correspondent of European newspapers +at their head. He is followed +by an ecstatic whisper of +respect and admiration. Many +leave the café to look at him, and +even the waiter turns slightly +around, glances at him quickly, +smiles happily and continues on his +way, spilling something from his +tray.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> The correspondent! The correspondent! +Look!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady.</span> Oh, my, and my husband is +gone again!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Jimmie, Mary, Aleck, Katie, +Charlie, look! This is the chief correspondent. +Do you realize it? The very +highest of all. Whatever he writes goes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kate.</span> Mary, dear, again you are not +looking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aleck.</span> I wish you would order some +sandwiches for us. I can't stand it any +longer. A human being has to eat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>ecstatically</i>]. What a tragedy! +Katie, dear, can you realize it? +Consider how awful. The weather is so +beautiful, and the chief correspondent. +Take out your note-book, Jimmie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> I lost it, father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent.</span> Where is he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices</span> [<i>obligingly</i>]. There, there he is. +There! A little higher. Still higher! +A little lower! No, higher!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent.</span> If you please, if you +please, ladies and gentlemen, I will find +him myself. Oh, yes, there he is. Hm! +What a situation!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Won't you have a chair?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent.</span> Thank you. [<i>Sits +down.</i>] Hm! What a situation! Very +interesting. Very interesting, indeed! +[<i>Whisks out his note-book; amiably to +the photographers.</i>] Have you taken any +pictures yet, gentlemen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Photographer.</span> Yes, sir, certainly, +certainly. We have photographed +the place showing the general character +of the locality—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Photographer.</span> The tragic +situation of the young man—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent.</span> Ye-es, very, very interesting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Did you hear, Aleck? This +smart man, the chief correspondent, says +it's interesting, and you keep bothering +about sandwiches. Dunce!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aleck.</span> May be he has had his dinner +already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent.</span> Ladies and gentlemen, +I beg you to be quiet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Obliging Voices.</span> It is quieter in the +café.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>shouts to the unknown +man</i>]. Permit me to introduce myself. +I am the chief correspondent of the European +press. I have been sent here at the +special request of the editors. I should +like to ask you several questions concerning +your situation. What is your +name? What is your general position? +How old are you? [<i>The unknown man +mumbles something.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>a little puzzled</i>]. I +can't hear a thing. Has he been that way +all the time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> Yes, it's impossible to hear a +word he says.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>jotting down something +in his note-book</i>]. Fine! Are you +a bachelor? [<i>The unknown man mumbles.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent.</span> I can't hear you. +Are you married? Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> He said he was a bachelor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Tourist.</span> No, he didn't. Of +course, he's married.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>carelessly</i>]. You think +so? All right. We'll put down, married. +How many children have you? Can't +hear. It seems to me he said three. +Hm! Anyway, we'll put down five.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Oh, my, what a tragedy. +Five children! Imagine!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> He is lying.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>shouting</i>]. How did +you get into this position? What? I +can't hear? Louder! Repeat. What +did you say? [<i>Perplexed, to the crowd.</i>] +What did he say? The fellow has a +devilishly weak voice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist.</span> It seems to me he said +that he lost his way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Tourist.</span> No, he doesn't know +himself how he got there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> He was out hunting.—He was +climbing up the rocks.—No, no! He is +simply a lunatic!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent.</span> I beg your pardon, I +beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen! +Anyway, he didn't drop from the sky. +However—[<i>He quickly jots down in +his note-book.</i>] Unhappy young man—suffering +from childhood with attacks of +lunacy.—The bright light of the full +moon—the wild rocks.—Sleepy janitor—didn't +notice—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Tourist</span> [<i>to the second, in a whisper</i>]. +But it's a new moon now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Tourist.</span> Go, what does a layman +know about astronomy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>ecstatically</i>]. Mary, pay attention +to this! You have before you an +ocular demonstration of the influence of +the moon on living organisms. What a +terrible tragedy to go out walking on a +moonlit night and find suddenly that you +have climbed to a place where it is impossible +to climb down or be taken down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>shouting</i>]. What feelings +are you experiencing? I can't hear. +Louder! Ah, so? Well, well! What a +situation!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Crowd</span> [<i>interested</i>]. Listen, listen! +Let's hear what his feelings are. How +terrible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>writes in his note-book, +tossing out detached remarks</i>]. Mortal +terror, numbs his limbs.—A cold shiver +goes down his spinal column.—No hope.—Before +his mental vision rises a picture +of family bliss: Wife making sandwiches; +his five children innocently lisping +their love.—Grandma in the armchair +with a tube to her ear, that is, +grandpa in the arm-chair, with a tube +to his ear and grandma.—Deeply moved +by the sympathy of the public.—His last +wish before his death that the words he +uttered with his last breath should be +published in our newspapers—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman</span> [<i>indignantly</i>]. My! +He lies like a salesman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>wearily</i>]. Papa, children, look, +he is starting to fall again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Don't bother me. +Such a tragedy is unfolding itself right +before your very eyes—and you—What +are you making such big eyes for +again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>shouting</i>]. Hold on +fast. That's it! My last question: +What message do you wish to leave for +your fellow citizens before you depart for +the better world?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man.</span> That they may all +go to the devil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent.</span> What? Hm, yes—[<i>He +writes quickly.</i>] Ardent love—is a +stanch opponent of the law granting +equal rights to negroes. His last words: +"Let the black niggers—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor</span> [<i>out of breath, pushing through +the crowd</i>]. Where is he? Ah, where is +he? Ah, there! Poor young man. Has +there been no clergyman here yet? No? +Thank you. Am I the first?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>writes</i>]. A touching +dramatic moment.—A minister has arrived.—All +are trembling on the verge +of suspense. Many are shedding tears—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor.</span> Excuse me, excuse me! Ladies +and gentlemen, a lost soul wishes to +make its peace with God—[<i>He shouts.</i>] +My son, don't you wish to make your +peace with God? Confess your sins to +me. I will grant you remission at once! +What? I cannot hear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>writes</i>]. The air is +shaken with the people's groans. The +minister of the church exhorts the criminal, +that is, the unfortunate man, in +touching language.—The unfortunate +creature with tears in his eyes thanks +him in a faint voice—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man</span> [<i>faintly</i>]. If you +won't go away I will jump on your head. +I weigh three hundred pounds. [<i>All +jump away frightened behind each +other.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> He is falling! He is falling!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>agitatedly</i>]. Mary, Aleck, +Jimmie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman</span> [<i>energetically</i>]. Clear the +place, please! Move on!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady.</span> Nellie, go quick and tell your +father he is falling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Photographer</span> [<i>in despair</i>]. Oh my, I +am out of films [<i>tosses madly about, looking +pitifully at the unknown man</i>]. One +minute, I'll go and get them. I have +some in my overcoat pocket over there. +[<i>He walks a short distance, keeping his +eyes fixed on the unknown man, and then +returns.</i>] I can't, I am afraid I'll miss it. +Good heavens! They are over there in +my overcoat. Just one minute, please. +I'll fetch them right away. What a fix.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor.</span> Hurry, my friend. Pull yourself +together and try to hold out long +enough to tell me at least your principal +sins. You needn't mention the lesser +ones.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> What a tragedy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>writes</i>]. The criminal, +that is, the unhappy man, makes a public +confession and does penance. Terrible +secrets revealed. He is a bank robber—blew +up safes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>credulously</i>]. The scoundrel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor</span> [<i>shouts</i>]. In the first place, +have you killed? Secondly, have you +stolen? Thirdly, have you committed +adultery?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Mary, Jimmie, Katie, Aleck, +Charlie, close your ears.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>writing</i>]. Tremendous +excitement in the crowd.—Shouts +of indignation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor</span> [<i>hurriedly</i>]. Fourthly, have +you blasphemed? Fifthly, have you coveted +your neighbor's ass, his ox, his slave, +his wife? Sixthly—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Photographer</span> [<i>alarmed</i>]. Ladies and +gentlemen, an ass!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Photographer.</span> Where? I +can't see it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Photographer</span> [<i>calmed</i>]. I thought I +heard it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor.</span> I congratulate you, my son! +I congratulate you! You have made your +peace with God. Now you may rest easy—Oh, +God, what do I see? The Salvation +Army! Policeman, chase them +away!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter a Salvation Army band, men +and women in uniforms. There are +only three instruments, a drum, a +violin and a piercingly shrill trumpet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Salvation Army Man</span> [<i>frantically +beating his drum and shouting in a nasal +voice</i>]. Brethren and sisters—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor</span> [<i>shouting even louder in a still +more nasal voice in an effort to drown the +other's</i>]. He has already confessed. +Bear witness, ladies and gentlemen, that +he has confessed and made his peace +with heaven.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Salvation Army Woman</span> [<i>climbing on +a rock and shrieking</i>]. I once wandered +in the dark just as this sinner and I lived +a bad life and was a drunkard, but when +the light of truth—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice.</span> Why, she is drunk now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor.</span> Policeman, didn't he confess +and make his peace with heaven?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Salvation Army man continues +to beat his drum frantically; the +rest begin to drawl a song. Shouts, +laughter, whistling. Singing in the +café, and calls of "Waiter!" in all +languages. The bewildered policemen +tear themselves away from the +pastor, who is pulling them somewhere; +the photographers turn and +twist about as if the seats were +burning under them. An English +lady comes riding in on a donkey, +who, stopping suddenly, sprawls +out his legs and refuses to go farther, +adding his noise to the rest. +Gradually the noise subsides. The +Salvation Army band solemnly +withdraws, and the pastor, waving +his hands, follows them.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First English Tourist</span> [<i>to the other</i>]. +How impolite! This crowd doesn't know +how to behave itself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second English Tourist.</span> Come, let's +go away from here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First English Tourist.</span> One minute. +[<i>He shouts.</i>] Listen, won't you hurry up +and fall?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second English Tourist.</span> What are +you saying, Sir William?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First English Tourist</span> [<i>shouting</i>]. +Don't you see that's what they are waiting +for? As a gentleman you should +grant them this pleasure and so escape +the humiliation of undergoing tortures before +this mob.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second English Tourist.</span> Sir William.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>ecstatically</i>]. See? It's true. +Aleck, Jimmie, it's true. What a tragedy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Several Tourists</span> [<i>going for the Englishman</i>]. +How dare you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First English Tourist</span> [<i>shoving them +aside</i>]. Hurry up and fall! Do you +hear? If you haven't the backbone I'll +help you out with a pistol shot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> That red-haired devil has gone +clear out of his mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman</span> [<i>seizing the Englishman's +hand</i>]. You have no right to do it, it's +against the law. I'll arrest you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Some Tourists.</span> A barbarous nation!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The unknown man shouts something. +Excitement below.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> Hear, hear, hear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man</span> [<i>aloud</i>]. Take that +jackass away to the devil. He wants to +shoot me. And tell the boss that I can't +stand it any longer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> What's that? What boss? He +is losing his mind, the poor man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Aleck! Mary! This is a +mad scene. Jimmie, you remember Hamlet? +Quick.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Tell him +my spinal column is broken.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>wearily</i>]. Papa, children, he's +beginning to kick with his legs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kate.</span> Is that what is called convulsions, +papa?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist</span> [<i>rapturously</i>]. I don't know. +I think it is. What a tragedy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aleck</span> [<i>glumly</i>]. You fool! You keep +cramming and cramming and you don't +know that the right name for that is +agony. And you wear eyeglasses, too. +I can't bear it any longer, papa.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Think of it, children. A +man is about to fall down to his death +and he is bothering about his spinal column.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a noise. A man in a white +vest, very much frightened, enters, +almost dragged by angry tourists. +He smiles, bows on all sides, +stretches out his arms, now running +forward as he is pushed, now trying +to escape in the crowd, but is +seized and pulled again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> A bare-faced deception! It +is an outrage. Policeman, policeman, he +must be taught a lesson!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Other Voices.</span> What is it? What deception? +What is it all about? They +have caught a thief!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Man in the White Vest</span> [<i>bowing +and smiling</i>]. It's a joke, ladies and +gentlemen, a joke, that's all. The people +were bored, so I wanted to provide a +little amusement for them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Boss!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Man in the White Vest.</span> Wait +a while, wait a while.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man.</span> Do you expect me +to stay here until the Second Advent? +The agreement was till twelve o'clock. +What time is it now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist</span> [<i>indignantly</i>]. Do you +hear, ladies and gentlemen? This scoundrel, +this man here in the white vest hired +that other scoundrel up there and just +simply tied him to the rock.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> Is he tied?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> Yes, he is tied and he +can't fall. We are excited and worrying, +but he couldn't fall even if he tried.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man.</span> What else do you +want? Do you think I am going to break +my neck for your measly ten dollars? +Boss, I can't stand it any more. One +man wanted to shoot me. The pastor +preached me for two hours. This is not +in the agreement.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aleck.</span> Father, I told you that Baedeker +lies. You believe everything anybody +tells you and drag us about without +eating.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Man in the White Vest.</span> The people +were bored. My only desire was to +amuse the people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> What is the matter? +I don't understand a thing. Why +isn't he going to fall? Who, then, is going +to fall?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> I don't understand a thing +either. Of course he's got to fall!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> You never understand anything, +father. Weren't you told that he's +tied to the rock?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aleck.</span> You can't convince him. He +loves every Baedeker more than his own +children.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James.</span> A nice father!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Silence!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> What is the matter? +He must fall.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> The idea! What a deception. +You'll have to explain this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Man in the White Vest.</span> The people +were bored. Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, +but wishing to accommodate you—give +you a few hours of pleasant excitement—elevate +your spirits—inspire +you with altruistic sentiments—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Englishman.</span> Is the café yours?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Man in the White Vest.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Englishman.</span> And is the hotel below +also yours?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gentleman.</span> Yes. The people were +bored—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Correspondent</span> [<i>writing</i>]. The proprietor +of the café, desiring to increase his +profits from the sale of alcoholic beverages, +exploits the best human sentiments.—The +people's indignation—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Boss, will +you have me taken off at once or won't +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hotel Keeper.</span> What do you want up +there? Aren't you satisfied? Didn't I +have you taken off at night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man.</span> Well, I should say +so. You think I'd be hanging here +nights, too!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hotel Owner.</span> Then you can stand it +a few minutes longer. The people are +bored—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> Say, have you any idea +of what you have done? Do you realize +the enormity of it? You are scoundrels, +who for your own sordid personal ends +have impiously exploited the finest human +sentiment, love of one's neighbor. You +have caused us to undergo fear and suffering. +You have poisoned our hearts +with pity. And now, what is the upshot +of it all? The upshot is that this scamp, +your vile accomplice, is bound to the rock +and not only will he not fall as everybody +expects, but he <i>can't</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> What is the matter? +He has got to fall.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Policeman! Policeman!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The pastor enters, out of breath.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor.</span> What? Is he still living? +Oh, there he is! What fakirs those Salvationists +are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> Don't you know that he is +bound?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor.</span> Bound! Bound to what? To +life? Well, we are all bound to life until +death snaps the cord. But whether he +is bound or not bound, I reconciled him +with heaven, and that's enough. But +those fakirs—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Policeman! Policeman, you +must draw up an official report. There +is no way out of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman</span> [<i>going for the hotel +owner</i>]. I will not allow myself to be +fooled. I saw an aëronaut drop from +the clouds and go crash upon a roof. I +saw a tiger tear a woman to pieces—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Photographer.</span> I spoiled three films +photographing that scamp. You will +have to answer for this, sir. I will hold +you responsible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> An official report! An official +report! Such a bare-faced deception. +Mary, Jimmie, Aleck, Charlie, call +a policeman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hotel Keeper</span> [<i>drawing back, in despair</i>]. +But, I can't make him fall if +he doesn't want to. I did everything in +my power, ladies and gentlemen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> I will not allow +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hotel Keeper.</span> Excuse me. I promise +you on my word of honor that the next +time he will fall. But he doesn't want to, +to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man.</span> What's that? What +did you say about the next time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hotel Keeper.</span> You shut up there!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man.</span> For ten dollars?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor.</span> Pray, what impudence! I +just made his peace with heaven when he +was in danger of his life. You have +heard him threatening to fall on my head, +haven't you? And still he is dissatisfied. +Adulterer, thief, murderer, coveter of +your neighbor's ass—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Photographer.</span> Ladies and gentlemen, +an ass!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Photographer.</span> Where, where +is an ass?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Photographer</span> [<i>calmed</i>]. I thought I +heard one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Photographer.</span> It is you who +are an ass. I have become cross-eyed on +account of your shouting: "An ass! +An ass!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>wearily</i>]. Papa, children, look! +A policeman is coming.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Excitement and noise. On one side +a crowd pulling a policeman, on +the other the hotel keeper; both +keep crying: "Excuse me! Excuse +me!"</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Policeman, there he is, the +fakir, the swindler.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pastor.</span> Policeman, there he is, the +adulterer, the murderer, the coveter of his +neighbor's ass—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> Excuse me, excuse me, ladies +and gentlemen. We will bring him +to his senses in short order and make him +confess.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hotel Keeper.</span> I can't make him fall +if he doesn't want to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> Hey, you, young man out +there! Can you fall or can't you? Confess!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man</span> [<i>sullenly</i>]. I don't +want to fall!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> Aha, he has confessed. What +a scoundrel!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> Write down what I dictate, +policeman—"Desiring—for the +sake of gain to exploit the sentiment of +love of one's neighbor—the sacred feeling—a-a-a—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Listen, children, they are +drawing up an official report. What exquisite +choice of language!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tall Tourist.</span> The sacred feeling +which—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Policeman</span> [<i>writing with painful effort, +his tongue stuck out</i>]. Love of one's +neighbor—the sacred feeling which—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> [<i>wearily</i>]. Papa, children, look! +An advertisement is coming.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter musicians with trumpets and +drums, a man at their head carrying +on a long pole a huge placard +with the picture of an absolutely +bald head, and printed underneath: +"I was bald."</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Unknown Man.</span> Too late. They are +drawing up a report here. You had better +skidoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Man Carrying the Pole</span> [<i>stopping +and speaking in a loud voice</i>]. I +had been bald from the day of my birth +and for a long time thereafter. That +miserable growth, which in my tenth year +covered my scalp was more like wool +than real hair. When I was married my +skull was as bare as a pillow and my +young bride—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> What a tragedy! Newly +married and with such a head! Can you +realize how dreadful that is, children?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>All listen with interest, even the +policeman stopping in his arduous +task and inclining his ear with his +pen in his hand.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Man Carrying the Pole</span> [<i>solemnly</i>]. +And the time came when my +matrimonial happiness literally hung by +a hair. All the medicines recommended +by quacks to make my hair grow—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tourist.</span> Your note-book, Jimmie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Military Woman.</span> But when is he +going to fall?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hotel Keeper</span> [<i>amiably</i>]. The next +time, lady, the next time. I won't tie him +so hard—you understand?</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_BOOR" id="THE_BOOR"></a>THE BOOR</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Anton Tchekoff</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Translated by Hilmar Baukage.</span></small> +</h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1915, by Samuel French.</p> +<p> </p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Helena Ivanovna Popov</span> [<i>a young widow, mistress of a country estate</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Grigorji Stepanovitch Smirnov</span> [<i>proprietor of a country estate</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luka</span> [<i>servant of Mrs. Popov</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Gardener.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">A Coachman.</span><br /> +<i>Several Workmen.</i> +</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><span class="smcap">Place:</span> <i>The Estate of Mrs. Popov</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><span class="smcap">Time:</span> <i>The Present</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p class="center">[<i>The stage shows an elegantly furnished reception room.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> + + +<p>Reprinted from "The World's Best Plays by Celebrated European Authors," edited +by Barrett H. Clark, and published by Samuel French, by permission of, and special +arrangements with, Samuel French.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE BOOR</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Anton Tchekoff</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>Mrs. Popov discovered in deep mourning, +sitting upon a sofa, gazing steadfastly +at a photograph. Luka is also +present.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> It isn't right, ma'am—You're +wearing yourself out! The maid and the +cook have gone looking for berries, everything +that breathes is enjoying life, even +the cat knows how to be happy—slips +about the courtyard and catches birds; +but you hide yourself here in the house as +though you were in a cloister and have +no pleasures—Yes, truly, by actual reckoning +you haven't left this house for a +whole year.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> And I shall never leave +it—why should I? My life is over. He +lies in his grave, and I have buried myself +within these four walls. We are +both dead.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> There you are again! It's too +awful to listen to, so it is! Nikolai Michailovitch +is dead, it was the will of the +Lord and the Lord has given him eternal +peace. You have grieved over it and +that ought to be enough. Now it's time +to stop. One can't weep and wear mourning +forever! My wife died a few years +ago, too. I grieved for her, I wept a +whole month—and then it was over. +Must one be forever singing lamentations? +That would be more than your husband +was worth! [<i>He sighs.</i>] You have forgotten +all your neighbors. You don't go +out and you won't receive any one. We +live,—you'll pardon me—like the +spiders, and the good light of day we +never see. All the livery is eaten by the +mice—As though there weren't any more +nice people in the world! But the whole +neighborhood is full of gentlefolk. In +Riblov the regiment is stationed, officers—simply +beautiful! One can't see enough +of them! Every Friday a ball, and military +music every day. Oh, my dear, dear +ma'am, young and pretty as you are, if +you'd only let your spirits live! Beauty +can't last forever. When ten short years +are over, then you'll be glad enough to +go out a bit! And meet the officers—and +then it'll be too late.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>resolutely</i>]. Please, don't +speak of these things to me again. You +know very well that since the death of +Nikolai Michailovitch my life is absolutely +nothing to me. You think I live, but it +only seems that I live. Do you understand? +Oh, that his departed soul may +see how I love him—Oh, I know, it's no +secret to you; he was often unjust towards +me, cruel and—he wasn't faithful, +but I shall be faithful to the grave +and prove to him how I am able to love. +There, in the beyond, he'll find me the +same, as I was until his death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> What is the use of all these +words? When you'd so much rather go +walking in the garden or order Tobby or +Welikan harnessed to the trap, and visit +the neighbors.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>weeping</i>]. Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> Madam, dear, dear Madam, +what is it? In heaven's name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> He loved Tobby so! He +always took him when he drove to the +Kortschagins or the Vlassovs. What +a wonderful horseman he was! How fine +he looked! When he pulled at the reins +with all his might! Tobby, Tobby, give +him an extra measure of oats to-day!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A bell rings loudly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>shudders</i>]. What's that? +Say that I am receiving no one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> Yes, ma'am. [<i>He goes out +center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>gazing at the photograph</i>]. +You shall see, Nikol, how I can love and +forgive—My love will die only with me—when +my poor heart stops beating. +[<i>She smiles through her tears.</i>] And +aren't you ashamed? I have been a good, +true wife, I have imprisoned myself and +I shall remain true until the grave, and +you—you—you're not ashamed of yourself, +my dear monster! Betrayed me, +quarreled with me, left me alone for +weeks—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Luka enters in great excitement.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> Oh, ma'am, some one is asking +for you, insists on seeing you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> You told him that since +my husband's death I receive no one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> I said so, but he won't listen, +he says that it is a pressing matter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I—re—ceive—no—one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> I told him that, but he's a wild-man, +he swore and pushed himself into +the room—he's in the dining room now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. Good. Show +him in. What an intruder!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Luka goes out center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> What a bore people are! +What can they want with me? Why do +they disturb my peace? [<i>She sighs.</i>] +Yes, it is clear I must go to a cloister. +[<i>Meditatively.</i>] Yes, in a cloister—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Smirnov enters followed by Luka.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>to Luka</i>]. Fool, you make +too much noise! You're an ass! [<i>Discovering +Mrs. Popov—politely.</i>] Madam, +I have the honor to introduce myself; +Lieutenant in the Artillery, retired, +country gentleman, Grigorji Stepanovitch +Smirnov! I'm forced to bother you about +an exceedingly important matter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>without offering her hand</i>]. +What is it you wish?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Your deceased husband, +with whom I had the honor to be acquainted, +left me two notes amounting to +about twelve hundred rubles. Inasmuch +as I have to meet the interest to-morrow +on a loan from the Agrarian Bank, I +should like to request, madam, that you +pay me the money to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Twelve hundred—and +for what was my husband indebted to +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> He had bought oats from +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>with a sigh to Luka</i>]. +Don't forget to have Tobby given an +extra measure of oats.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Luka goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>to Smirnov</i>]. If Nikolai +Michailovitch is indebted to you, I will +of course pay you, but, I am sorry, I +haven't the money to-day. To-morrow +my manager will be back from the city +and I shall notify him to pay you what is +due you, but until then I cannot satisfy +your request. Furthermore to-day it is +just seven months since the death of my +husband and I am not in the mood to +discuss money matters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> And I am in the mood to +fly up the chimney with my feet in the +air if I can't lay hands on that interest +to-morrow. They'll sequestrate my estate!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Day after to-morrow you +will receive the money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> I don't need the money day +after to-morrow, I need it to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I'm sorry I can't pay you +to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> And I can't wait until day +after to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> But what can I do if I +haven't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> So you can't pay?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I cannot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Hm.—Is that your last +word?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> My last.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Absolutely?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Absolutely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Thank you. We shan't forget +it. [<i>He shrugs his shoulders.</i>] And +then they expect me to stand for all that. +The toll gatherer just now met me in the +road and asked, why are you always worrying, +Grigorji Stepanovitch? Why in +heaven's name shouldn't I worry? I need +money, I feel the knife at my throat. +Yesterday morning I left my house in +the early dawn and called on all my +debtors. If even one of them had paid +his debt! I worked the skin off my +fingers! The devil knows in what sort +of Jew-inn I slept, in a room with a barrel +of brandy! And now at last I come +here, seventy versts from home, hope for +a little money and all you give me is +moods. Why shouldn't I worry?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I thought I made it plain +to you that my manager will return from +town and then you will get your money?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> I did not come to see the +manager, I came to see you. What the +devil—pardon the language—do I care +for your manager?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Really, sir, I am neither +used to such language nor such manners. +I shan't listen to you any further. [<i>She +goes out left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> What can one say to that? +Moods! Seven months since her husband +died! And do I have to pay the interest +or not? I repeat the question, have I to +pay the interest or not? Well yes, the +husband is dead and all that, the manager +is—the devil with him—traveling +somewhere. Now tell me, what am I to +do? Shall I run away from my creditors +in a balloon? Or push my head into a +stone wall? If I call on Grusdev he +chooses to be "not at home," Iroschevitch +has simply hidden himself, I have +quarreled with Kurzin until I came near +throwing him out of the window, Masutov +is ill and this one in here has—moods! +Not one of the crew will pay +up! And all because I've spoiled them +all, because I'm an old whiner, an old +dish rag! I'm too tender hearted with +them. But you wait! I'll show you! I +permit nobody to play tricks with me, the +devil with 'em all! I'll stay here and not +budge from the spot until she pays! +Brrr! How angry I am, how terribly +angry I am! Every tendon is trembling +with anger and I can hardly breathe—ah, +I'm even growing ill. [<i>He calls out.</i>] +Servant!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Luka enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> What is it you wish?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Bring me Kvas or water! +[<i>Luka goes out.</i>] Well, what can we do? +She hasn't it on hand? What sort of logic +is that? A fellow stands with the knife +at his throat, he needs money, he is just +at the point of hanging himself, and she +won't pay because she isn't in the mood +to discuss money matters. See! Pure +woman's logic. That's why I never liked +to talk to women and why I hate to do it +now. I would rather sit on a powder +barrel than talk with a woman. Brr!—I'm +getting cold as ice, this affair has +made me so angry. I only need to see +such a romantic creature from the distance +to get so angry that I have cramps +in the calves? It's enough to make one +yell for help!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Luka.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka</span> [<i>hands him water</i>]. Madam is +ill and is not receiving.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> March! [<i>Luka goes out.</i>] +Ill and isn't receiving! All right, it isn't +necessary. I won't receive either. I'll sit +here and stay until you bring that money. +If you're ill a week, I'll sit here a week. +If you're ill a year, I'll sit here a year. +As heaven is a witness I'll get my money. +You don't disturb me with your mourning—or +with your dimples. We know +these dimples! [<i>He calls out the window.</i>] +Simon, unharness. We aren't +going to leave right away. I am going +to stay here. Tell them in the stable to +give the horses some oats. The left horse +has twisted the bridle again. [<i>Imitating +him.</i>] Stop. I'll show you how. Stop. +[<i>Leaves window.</i>] It's awful. Unbearable +heat, no money, didn't sleep well last +night and now mourning-dresses with +moods. My head aches, perhaps I ought +to have a drink. Ye-s, I must have a +<ins class="correction" title="original reads 'dring'">drink</ins>. [<i>Calling.</i>] Servant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> What do you wish?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> A little drink. [<i>Luka goes +out. Smirnov sits down and looks at his +clothes.</i>] Ugh, a fine figure! No use +denying that. Dust, dirty boots, unwashed, +uncombed, straw on my vest—the +lady probably took me for a highwayman. +[<i>He yawns.</i>] It was a little +impolite to come into a reception room +with such clothes. Oh well, no harm +done. I'm not here as guest. I'm a creditor. +And there is no special costume +for creditors.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka</span> [<i>entering with glass</i>]. You take +a great deal of liberty, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> I—I—I just—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Whom are you talking to? +Keep quiet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Nice mess! This fellow +won't leave! [<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Lord, how angry I am! +Angry enough to throw mud at the whole +world! I even feel ill—servant!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mrs. Popov comes in with downcast +eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Sir, in my solitude I have +become unaccustomed to the human voice +and I cannot stand the sound of loud +talking. I beg of you, please to cease +disturbing my quiet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Pay me my money and I'll +leave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I told you once plainly +in your native tongue that I haven't the +money on hand; wait until day after to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> And I also have the honor +of informing you in your native tongue +that I need the money, not day after to-morrow, +but to-day. If you don't pay +me to-day I shall have to hang myself +to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> But what can I do when +I haven't the money? How strange!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> So you are not going to pay +immediately? You're not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I can't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Then I'll sit here and stay +until I get the money. [<i>He sits.</i>] You +will pay day after to-morrow? Excellent! +Here I stay until day after to-morrow. +[<i>Jumps up.</i>] I ask you: do I have +to pay that interest to-morrow or not? +Or do you think I'm joking?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Sir, I beg of you, don't +scream! This is not a stable.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> I'm not asking you about a +stable, I'm asking you whether I have to +pay that interest to-morrow or not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> You have no idea how a +lady should be treated.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Oh, yes, I know how to treat +ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> No, you don't. You are +an ill-bred, vulgar person—respectable +people don't speak so with ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Oh, how remarkable! How +do you want one to speak with you? In +French perhaps. Madame, je vous prie—how +fortunate I am that you won't +pay me my money! Pardon me for having +disturbed you. What beautiful +weather we are having to-day. And how +this mourning becomes you. [<i>He makes +an ironic bow.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Not at all funny—vulgar!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>imitating her</i>]. Not at all +funny—vulgar. I don't understand how +to behave in the company of ladies. +Madam, in the course of my life I have +seen more women than you have sparrows. +Three times I have fought duels +over women, twelve women I threw over +and nine threw me over. There was a +time when I played the fool, used honeyed +language, bows and scrapings. I loved, +suffered, sighed to the moon, melted in +love's torments. I loved passionately, I +loved to madness, in every key, chattered +like a magpie on emancipation, sacrificed +half my fortune in the tender passion +until now the devil knows I've had enough +of it. Your obedient servant will let you +lead him around by the nose no more. +Enough! Black eyes, passionate eyes, +coral lips, dimples in cheeks, moonlight +whispers, soft, modest sighs,—for all that, +madam, I wouldn't pay a copper cent. +I am not speaking of the present company +but of women in general; from the tiniest +to the greatest, they are all conceited, +hypocritical, chattering, odious, deceitful +from top to toe; vain, petty, cruel with +a maddening logic and [<i>he strikes his +forehead</i>] in this respect, please excuse +my frankness, but one sparrow is worth +ten of the aforementioned petticoat-philosophers. +When one sees one of the romantic +creatures before him he imagines +that he is looking at some holy being, so +wonderful that its one breath could dissolve +him in a sea of a thousand charms +and delights—but if one looks into the +soul—it's nothing but a common crocodile. +[<i>He seizes the arm-chair and breaks +it in two.</i>] But the worst of all is that +this crocodile imagines that it is a chef-d'oeuvre +and that it has a monopoly on +all the tender passions. May the devil +hang me upside down if there is anything +to love about a woman! When she is in +love all she knows is how to complain +and shed tears. If the man suffers and +makes sacrifices she trails her train about +and tries to lead him around by the nose. +You have the misfortune to be a woman +and you naturally know woman's nature; +tell me on your honor, have you ever in +your life seen a woman who was really +true and faithful? You never saw one. +Only the old and the deformed are true +and faithful. It's easier to find a cat +with horns or a white woodcock than a +faithful woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> But just allow me to ask, +who is true and faithful in love? The +man, perhaps?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Yes, indeed! The man!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> The man! [<i>She laughs +ironically.</i>] The man is true and faithful +in love! Well, that is something new. +[<i>She laughs bitterly.</i>] How can you +make such a statement? Men true and +faithful! As long as we have gone as +far as we have I may as well say that of +all the men I have known my husband +was the best—I loved him passionately +with all my soul, as only a young, sensible +woman may love, I gave him my youth, +my happiness, my fortune, my life. I +worshiped him like a heathen. And +what happened? This best of all men betrayed +me right and left in every possible +fashion. After his death I found his desk +filled with a collection of love letters. +While he was alive he left me alone for +months—it is horrible to even think +about it—he made love to other women +in my very presence, he wasted my money +and made fun of my feelings,—and in +spite of all that I trusted him and was +true to him. And more than that, he is +dead and I am still true to him. I have +buried myself within these four walls and +I shall wear this mourning to my grave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>laughing disrespectfully</i>]. +Mourning! What on earth do you take +me for? As if I didn't know why you +wore this black domino and why you +buried yourself within these four walls. +As if I didn't know! Such a secret! So +romantic! Some knight will pass the +castle, will gaze up at the windows and +think to himself: "Here dwells the mysterious +Tamara who, for love of her husband, +has buried herself within four +walls." Oh, I understand the art!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>springing up</i>]. What? +What do you mean by saying such things +to me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> You have buried yourself +alive, but meanwhile you have not forgotten +to powder your nose!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> How dare you speak to +me so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Don't scream at me, please, +I'm not the manager. Just let me call +things by their right names. I am not a +woman and I am accustomed to speak +out what I think. So please don't scream.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I'm not screaming. It is +you who are doing the screaming. Please +leave me, I beg of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Pay me my money and I'll +leave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I won't give you the +money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> You won't? You won't give +me my money?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I don't care what you +do. You won't get a kopeck! Leave +me alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> As I haven't the pleasure of +being either your husband or your fiancé +please don't make a scene. [<i>He sits +down.</i>] I can't stand it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>breathing hard</i>]. You are +going to sit down?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> I already have.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Kindly leave the house!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Give me the money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I don't care to speak with +impudent men. Leave! [<i>Pause.</i>] You +aren't going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> No?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Very well. [<i>She rings +the bell.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Luka.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Luka, show the gentleman +out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka</span> [<i>going to Smirnov</i>]. Sir, why +don't you leave when you are ordered? +What do you want—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>jumping up</i>]. Whom do you +think you are talking to? I'll grind you +to powder.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka</span> [<i>puts his hand to his heart</i>]. +Good Lord! [<i>He drops into a chair.</i>] +Oh, I'm ill, I can't breathe!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Where is Dascha? [<i>Calling.</i>] +Dascha! Pelageja! Dascha! +[<i>She rings.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> They're all gone! I'm ill. +Water!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>to Smirnov</i>]. Leave! Get +out!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Kindly be a little more polite!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>striking her fists and +stamping her feet</i>]. You are vulgar! +You're a boor! A monster!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Wh—at did you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> I said you were a boor, a +monster!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>steps toward her quickly</i>]. +Permit me to ask what right you have to +insult me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Yes, I insult you. What +of it? Do you think I am afraid of +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> And you think that because +you are a romantic creature that you can +insult me without being punished? I +challenge you! Now you have it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> Merciful heaven! Water!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> We'll have a duel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Do you think because you +have big fists and a steer's neck that I am +afraid of you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> That is the limit! I allow +no one to insult me and I make no exception +because you are a woman, one +of the "weaker sex"!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>trying to cry him down</i>]. +Boor, boor, boor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> It is high time to do away +with the old superstition that it is only +a man who is forced to give satisfaction. +If there is equity at all let there be equity +in all things. There's a limit!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> You wish to fight a duel? +Very well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Immediately.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Immediately. My husband +had pistols. I'll bring them. [<i>She +hurries away, then turns.</i>] Oh, what a +pleasure it will be to put a bullet in +your impudent head. The devil take you! +[<i>She goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> I'll shoot her down! I'm no +fledgling, no sentimental, young puppy. +For me there is no weaker sex.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> Oh, sir. [<i>Falls to his knees.</i>] +Have mercy on me, an old man, and go +away. You have frightened me to death +already and now you want to fight a duel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>paying no attention</i>]. A +duel. That's equity, that's emancipation. +That way the sexes are made equal. I'll +shoot her down as a matter of principle. +What can a person say to such a woman? +[<i>Imitating her.</i>] "The devil take you. +I'll put a bullet in your impudent head." +What can a person say to that? She was +angry, her eyes blazed, she accepted the +challenge. On my honor it's the first time +in my life that I ever saw such a woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> Oh, sir. Go away. Go away +from here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> That <i>is</i> a woman. I can understand +her. A real woman. No shilly-shallying, +but fire, powder, and noise! It +would be a pity to shoot a woman like +that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka</span> [<i>weeping</i>]. Oh, sir; go away.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Mrs. Popov.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Here are the pistols. +But before we have our duel please show +me how to shoot. I have never had a +pistol in my hand before!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka.</span> God be merciful and have pity +upon us! I'll go and get the gardener +and the coachman. Why has this horror +come to us! [<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>looking at the pistols</i>]. You +see there are different kinds of pistols. +There are special duelling pistols with +cap and ball. But these are revolvers, +Smith & Wesson, with ejectors, fine pistols. +A pair like that cost at least ninety +rubles. This is the way to hold a revolver. +[<i>Aside.</i>] Those eyes, those eyes! +A real woman!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Like this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Yes, that way. Then you +pull the hammer back—so—then you +aim—put your head back a little—just +stretch your arm out, please. So—then +press your finger on the thing like that, +and that is all. The chief thing is this: +don't get excited, don't hurry your aim, +and take care that your hand doesn't +tremble.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> It isn't as well to shoot +inside, let's go into the garden.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Yes. I'll tell you now that +I am going to shoot into the air.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> That is too much. Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Because—because—That's +my business why.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> You are afraid. Yes. +A-h-h-h. No, no, my dear sir, no welching. +Please follow me. I won't rest myself, +until I've made a hole in your head +that I hate so much. Are you afraid?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Yes, I'm afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> You are lying. Why +won't you fight?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Because—because—I—like +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>with an angry laugh</i>]. +You like me! He dares to say that he +likes me. [<i>She points to the door.</i>] Go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>laying the revolver silently +on the table, takes his hat and goes; at the +door he stops a moment gazing at her silently, +then he approaches her undecidedly</i>]. +Listen? Are you still angry? I was +mad as the devil, but please understand +me—how can I express myself?—The +thing is like this—such things are—[<i>He +raises his voice.</i>] How is it my fault that +you owe me money? [<i>Grasps the chair +back which breaks.</i>] The devil knows +what breakable furniture you have! I +like you! Do you understand?—I—I'm +almost in love!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Leave. I hate you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Lord! What a woman! I +never in my life met one like her. I'm +lost, ruined! I've been caught like a +mouse in a trap.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Go, or I'll shoot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Shoot! You have no idea +what happiness it would be to die in sight +of those beautiful eyes, to die from the +revolver in this little velvet hand—I'm +mad! Consider it and decide immediately +for if I go now; we shall never see each +other again. Decide—speak—I am a +noble, a respectable man, have an income +of ten thousand, can shoot a coin thrown +into the air—I own some fine horses. +Will you be my wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>swings the revolver angrily</i>]. +Shoot!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> My mind is not clear—I +can't understand—servant—water! I +have fallen in love like any young man. +[<i>He takes her hand and she cries with +pain.</i>] I love you! [<i>He kneels.</i>] I love +you as I have never loved before. Twelve +women, I threw over, nine were untrue +to me, but not one of them all have I +loved as I love you. I am conquered, +lost, I lie at your feet like a fool and beg +for your hand. Shame and disgrace! +For five years I haven't been in love, I +thanked the Lord for it and now I am +caught, like a carriage tongue in another +carriage. I beg for your hand! Yes or +no? Will you?—Good! [<i>He gets up +and goes to the door quickly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Wait a moment—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>stopping</i>]. Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Nothing. You may go. +But—wait a moment. No, go on, go on. +I hate you. Or no. Don't go. Oh, if +you knew how angry I was, how angry! +[<i>She throws the revolver onto the chair.</i>] +My finger is swollen from this thing. +[<i>She angrily tears her handkerchief.</i>] +What are you standing there for? Get +out!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov.</span> Farewell!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Yes, go. [<i>Cries out.</i>] +What are you going for? Wait—no, go!! +Oh, how angry I am! Don't come too +near, don't come too near—er—come—no +nearer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Smirnov</span> [<i>approaching her</i>]. How +angry I am with myself. Fallen in love +like a school-boy, thrown myself on my +knees. I've got a chill! [<i>Strongly.</i>] I +love you. This is fine,—all I needed was +to fall in love. To-morrow I have to pay +my interest, the hay harvest has begun +and then you appear. [<i>He takes her in +his arms.</i>] I can never forgive myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov.</span> Go away! Take your +hands off me! I hate you—you—this +is—[<i>A long kiss.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Luka with an ax, the gardener +with a rake, the coachman with +a pitch-fork, workmen with poles.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Luka</span> [<i>staring at the pair</i>]. Merciful +Heavens! [<i>A long pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Popov</span> [<i>dropping her eyes</i>]. Tell +them in the stable that Tobby isn't to have +any oats.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="HIS_WIDOWS_HUSBAND" id="HIS_WIDOWS_HUSBAND"></a>HIS WIDOW'S HUSBAND</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Jacinto Benevente</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Translated by John Garrett Underhill.</span></small> +</h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1917, by John Garrett Underhill.<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + +<p> </p> + + +<p class="center">First presented at the Teatro Principe Alfonso, Madrid, on the evening of the nineteenth +of October, 1908.</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Paquita.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Florencio.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Zurita.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span><br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Scene</span> <i>is laid in a provincial capital</i>.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + +<p>Reprinted from "Plays: First Series," by permission of, and special arrangements +with, Mr. John Garrett Underhill and Charles Scribner's Sons. Applications for permission +to produce <span class="smcap">His Widow's Husband</span> should be addressed to the Society of Spanish +Authors, 20 Nassau Street, New York.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>HIS WIDOW'S HUSBAND</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Jacinto Benevente</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>Carolina is seated as Zurita enters.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> My friend!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> My good Zurita, it is so +thoughtful of you to come so promptly! +I shall never be able to repay all your +kindness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> I am always delighted to be +of service to a friend.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I asked them to look for +you everywhere. Pardon the inconvenience, +but the emergency was extreme. I +am in a terrible position; all the tact in +the world can never extricate me from +one of those embarrassing predicaments—unless +you assist me by your advice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Count upon my advice; count +upon me in anything. However, I cannot +believe that you are really in an embarrassing +predicament.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> But I am, my friend; and +you are the only one who can advise me. +You are a person of taste; your articles +and society column are the standard of +good form with us. Everybody accepts +and respects your decisions.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Not invariably, I am sorry to +say—especially now that I have taken +up the suppression of the hips, which are +fatal to the success of any <i>toilette</i>. Society +was formerly very select in this +city, but it is no longer the same, as you +no doubt have occasion to know. Too +many fortunes have been improvised, too +many aristocratic families have descended +in the scale. There has been a +great change in society. The <i>parvenus</i> +dominate—and money is so insolent! +People who have it imagine that other +things can be improvised—as education, +for example, manners, good taste. Surely +you must realize that such things cannot +be improvised. Distinction is a hothouse +plant. We grow too few gardenias nowadays—like +you, my friend. On the +other hand, we have an abundance of +sow-thistles. Not that I am referring to +the Nuñez family.... How do you suppose +those ladies enliven their Wednesday +evenings? With a gramophone, my +friend, with a gramophone—just like +any vulgar café; although I must confess +that it is an improvement upon the days +when the youngest sang, the middle one +recited, and all played together. Nevertheless +it is horrible. You can imagine +my distress.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> You know, of course, that +I never take part in their Wednesdays. +I never call unless I am sure they are not +at home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> But that is no longer a protection; +they leave the gramophone. And +the maid invites you to wait and entertain +yourself with the <i>Mochuelo</i>. What +is a man to do? It is impossible to resent +the records upon the maid. But we +are wandering from the subject. You +excite my curiosity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> You know that to-morrow +is the day of the unveiling of the statue +of my husband, of my previous husband—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> A fitting honor to the memory +of that great, that illustrious man. +This province owes him much, and so does +all Spain. We who enjoyed the privilege +of calling ourselves his friends, should be +delighted to see justice done to his deserts +at last, here where political jealousies +and intrigues have always belittled the +achievements of our eminent men. But +Don Patricio Molinete could have no enemies. +To-morrow will atone for much of +the pettiness of the past.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> No doubt. I feel I ought +to be proud and happy, although you +understand the delicacy of my position. +Now that I have married again, my +name is not the same. Yet it is impossible +to ignore the fact that once it was +mine, especially as everybody knows that +we were a model couple. I might perhaps +have avoided the situation by leaving +town for a few days on account of +my health, but then that might have been +misinterpreted. People might have +thought that I was displeased, or that I +declined to participate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Assuredly. Although your +name is no longer the same, owing to circumstances, +the force of which we appreciate, +that is no reason why you +should be deprived of the honor of having +borne it worthily at the time. Your +present husband has no right to take +offense.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> No, poor Florencio! In +fact, he was the first to realize that I +ought to take a leading part in the rejoicing. +Poor Florencio was always poor +Patricio's greatest admirer. Their political +ideas were the same; they agreed +in everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Apparently.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> As I have reason to know. +Poor Patricio loved me dearly; perhaps +that was what led poor Florencio to imagine +that there was something in me to +justify the affection of that great-hearted +and intellectual man. It was enough for +me to know that Florencio was Patricio's +most intimate friend in order to form my +opinion of him. Of course, I recognize +that Florencio's gifts will never enable +him to shine so brilliantly, but that is not +to say that he is wanting in ability. He +lacks ambition, that is all. All his desires +are satisfied at home with me, at his +own fireside. And I am as well pleased +to have it so. I am not ambitious myself. +The seasons which I spent with my +husband in Madrid were a source of great +uneasiness to me. I passed the week during +which he was Minister of Agriculture +in one continual state of anxiety. Twice +he nearly had a duel—over some political +question. I did not know which way +to turn. If he had ever become Prime +Minister, as was actually predicted by a +newspaper which he controlled, I should +have been obliged to take to my bed for +the week.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> You are not like our senator's +wife, Señora Espinosa, nor the wife of +our present mayor. They will never +rest, nor allow others to do so, until +they see their husbands erected in +marble.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Do you think that either +Espinosa or the mayor are of a caliber +to deserve statues?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Not publicly, perhaps. In a +private chapel, in the class of martyrs +and husbands, it might not be inappropriate. +But I am growing impatient.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> As you say, friend Zurita, +it might seem marked for me to leave +the city. Yet if I remain I must attend +the unveiling of the monument to my poor +Patricio; I must be present at the memorial +exercises to-night in his honor; I +must receive the delegations from Madrid +and the other cities, as well as the committees +from the rest of the province. +But what attitude ought I to assume? If +I seem too sad, nobody will believe that +my feeling is sincere. On the other hand, +it would not be proper to appear altogether +reconciled. Then people would +think that I had forgotten too quickly. +In fact, they think so already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Oh, no! You were very young +when you became a widow. Life was +just beginning for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> It is a delicate matter, +however, to explain to my sisters-in-law. +Tell me, what ought I to wear? Anything +severe, an attempt at mourning, +would be ridiculous, since I am going +with my husband; on the other hand, I +should not like to suggest a festive spirit. +What do you think, friend Zurita? Give +me your advice. What would you wear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> It is hard to say; the problem +is difficult. Something rich and black, +perhaps, relieved by a note of violet. +The unveiling of a monument to perpetuate +the memory of a great man is not an +occasion for mourning. Your husband +is partaking already of the joys of immortality, +in which no doubt, he anticipates +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Thank you so much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Do not thank me. You have +done enough. You have been faithful to +his memory. You have married again, +but you have married a man who was +your husband's most intimate friend. +You have not acted like other widows +of my acquaintance—Señora Benitez, +for example. She has been living for +two years with the deadliest enemy her +husband had in the province, without +any pretense at getting married—which +in her case would have been preposterous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> There is no comparison.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> No, my friend; everybody +sympathizes with your position, as they +ought.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> The only ones who worry +me are my sisters-in-law. They insist +that my position is ridiculous, and that +of my husband still more so. They do +not see how we can have the effrontery +to present ourselves before the statue.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Señora, I should not hesitate +though it were that of the Commander. +Your sisters-in-law exaggerate. Your +present husband is the only one you have +to consider.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I have no misgivings upon +that score. I know that both will appreciate +that my feelings are sincere, one +in this world, and the other from the +next. As for the rest, the rest—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> The rest are your friends and +your second husband's friends, as we were +of the first. We shall all take your part. +The others you can afford to neglect.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Thanks for those words of +comfort. I knew that you were a good +friend of ours, as you were also of his.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> A friend to both, to all three; +<i>si</i>, <i>señora</i>, to all three. But here is your +husband.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Don Florencio enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Don Florencio! My friend!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> My dear Zurita! I am delighted +to see you! I wish to thank you +for that charming article in memory of +our never-to-be-forgotten friend. It was +good of you, and I appreciate it. You +have certainly proved yourself an excellent +friend of his. Thanks, my dear Zurita, +thanks! Carolina and I are both +indebted to you for your charming article. +It brought tears to our eyes. Am +I right, Carolina?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> We were tremendously affected +by it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Friend Zurita, I am deeply +gratified. For the first time in the history +of the province, all parties have +united to do honor to this region's most +eminent son. But have you seen the +monument? It is a work of art. The +statue is a perfect likeness—it is the +man, the man himself! The allegorical +features are wonderfully artistic—Commerce, +Industry, and Truth taken altogether +in the nude. Nothing finer could +be wished. You can imagine the trouble, +however, we had with the nudes. The +conservative element opposed the nudes, +but the sculptor declined to proceed if +the nudes were suppressed. In the end +we won a decisive victory for Art.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Do you know, I think it +would have been just as well not to have +had any nudes? What was the use of +offending anybody? Several of our +friends are going to remain away from +the ceremonies upon that account.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> How ridiculous! That +only shows how far we are behind the +times. You certainly have no feeling of +that sort after having been the companion +of that great, that liberal man. I remember +the trip we took to Italy together—you +surely recollect it, Carolina. I +never saw a man so struck with admiration +at those marvelous monuments of +pagan and Renaissance art. Oh, what a +man! What a wonderful man! He was +an artist. Ah! Before I forget it, Carolina, +Gutiérrez asked me for any pictures +you have for the special edition of his +paper, and I should like to have him publish +the verses which he wrote you when +you were first engaged. Did you ever see +those verses? That man might have been +a poet—he might have been anything +else for that matter. Talk about letters! +I wish you could see his letters. Carolina, +let us see some of those letters he +wrote you when you were engaged.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Not now. That is hardly +the time....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Naturally. In spite of +the satisfaction which we feel, these are +trying days for us. We are united by +our memories. I fear I shall never be +able to control myself at the unveiling +of the statue.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Florencio, for heaven's +sake, you must! You must control yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Yes, do control yourself. You +must.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I am controlling myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> If there is nothing further +that I can do....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> No, thank you, Zurita. I +am awfully obliged to you. Now that I +know what I am to wear, the situation +does not seem half so embarrassing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> I understand. A woman's +position is never so embarrassing as when +she is hesitating as to what to put on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Until to-morrow then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Don Florencio!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Thank you again for your +charming article. It was admirable! +Admirable!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Zurita retires.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I see that you feel it +deeply! you are touched. So am I. It +is foolish to attempt to conceal it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I don't know how to express +it, but—I am upset.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Don't forget the pictures, +however, especially the one where the +three of us were taken together on the +second platform of the Eiffel tower. It +was particularly good.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Yes, something out of the +ordinary. Don't you think, perhaps, that +our private affairs, our family life.... +How do we know whether at this time, +in our situation....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> What are you afraid of? +That is the woman of it. How narrow-minded! +You ought to be above such +pettiness after having been the wife of +such an intelligent man. Every detail +of the private life of the great has its +interest for history. Those of us who +knew him, who in a certain sense were his +colaborers—you will not accuse me of +immodesty—his colaborers in the great +work of his life, owe it to history to see +that the truth be known.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Nevertheless I hardly think +I would print those letters—much less +the verses. Do you remember what they +said?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Of course, I remember:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +"Like a moth on a pin I preserve all your kisses!..."<br /> +</p></div> + +<p>Everybody makes allowances for poetry. +Nobody is going to take seriously what +he reads in a poem. He married you +anyway. Why should any one object?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Stop, Florencio! What are +you talking about? We are making ourselves +ridiculous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Why should we make ourselves +ridiculous? Although I shall certainly +stand by you, whatever you decide, +if for no other reason than that I +am your husband, his widow's husband. +Otherwise people might think that I +wanted you to forget, that I was jealous +of his memory; and you know that is not +the case. You know how I admired him, +how I loved him—just as he did me. +Nobody could get along with him as well +as I could; he was not easy to get along +with, I do not need to tell you that. He +had his peculiarities—they were the peculiarities +of a great man—but they were +great peculiarities. Like all great men, +he had an exaggerated opinion of himself. +He was horribly stubborn, like all +strong characters. Whenever he got on +one of his hobbies no power on earth +could pry him off of it. It is only out +of respect that I do not say he was pig-headed. +I was the only one who had the +tact and the patience to do anything with +him; you know that well enough. How +often you said to me: "Oh, Florencio! +I can't stand it any longer!" And then +I would reason with you and talk to him, +and every time that you had a quarrel +I was the one who consoled you afterward.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Florencio, you are perfectly +disgusting! You have no right to +talk like this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Very well then, my dear. +I understand how you feel. This is a +time when everybody is dwelling on his +virtues, his good qualities, but I want you +to remember that that great man had also +his faults.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> You don't know what you +are talking about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Compare me with him—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Florencio? You know that +in my mind there has never been any +comparison. Comparisons are odious.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Not necessarily. But of +course you have not! You have never +regretted giving up his distinguished +name, have you, Carolina, for this humble +one of mine? Only I want you to understand +that if I had desired to shine, +if I had been ambitious.... I have talent +myself. Now admit it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Of course I do, my dear, of +course! But what is the use of talking +nonsense?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> What is the matter with +you, anyway? You are nervous to-day. +It is impossible to conduct a sensible conversation.—Hello! +Your sisters-in-law! +I am not at home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Don't excite yourself. +They never ask for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I am delighted!... Well, +I wish you a short session and escape.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I am in a fine humor for +this sort of thing myself.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Florencio goes out. Eudosia and +Paquita enter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> I trust that we do not intrude?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> How can you ask? Come +right in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> It seems we find you at home +for once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> So it seems.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> Strange to say, whenever +we call you always appear to be out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> A coincidence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> The coincidence is to find +you at home. [<i>A pause.</i>] We passed +your husband on the street.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Are you sure that you +would recognize him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> Oh! he was not alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Is that so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Paquita saw him with Somolino's +wife, at Sanchez the confectioner's.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Very possibly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> I should not make light of +it, if I were you. You know what Somolino's +wife is, to say nothing of Sanchez +the confectioner.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I didn't know about the +confectioner.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> No respectable woman, no +woman who even pretends to be respectable, +would set foot in his shop since he +married that French girl.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I didn't know about the +French girl.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Yes, he married her—I say +married her to avoid using another term. +He married her in Bayonne—if you call +such a thing marriage—civilly, which is +the way French people marry. It is a +land of perdition.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I am very sorry to hear it +because I am awfully fond of sweetmeats. +I adore <i>bonbons</i> and <i>marrons glacés</i>, and +nobody here has as good ones as Sanchez, +nor anywhere else for that matter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> In that case you had as well +deny yourself, unless you are prepared +to invite criticism. Somolino's wife is +the only woman who enters the shop and +faces the French girl, who gave her a +receipt for dyeing her hair on the spot. +You must have noticed how she is doing +it now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I hadn't noticed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> It is not jet-black any more; +it is baby-pink—so she is having the +Frenchwoman manicure her nails twice +a week. Have you noticed the condition +of her nails? They are the talk of the +town.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> Well, I trust he is satisfied.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Who is he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> I do not call him your husband. +Oh, our poor, dear brother!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I have not the slightest +idea what you are talking about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> So he has had his way at last +and desecrated the statue of our poor +brother with the figures of those naked +women?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> As large as life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> But Florencio is not responsible. +It was the sculptor and the +committee. I cannot see anything objectionable +in them myself. There are such +figures on all monuments. They are allegorical.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> I could understand, perhaps, +why the statue of Truth should be unclothed. +Something of the sort was always +expected of Truth. But I must say +that Commerce and Industry might have +had a tunic at least. Commerce, in my +opinion, is particularly indecent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> We have declined the seats +which were reserved for us. They were +directly in front and you could see everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> I suppose you still intend to +be present? What a pity that there is +nobody to give you proper advice!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> As I have been invited, +I judge that I shall be welcome as I +am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> Possibly—if it were good +form for you to appear at all. But when +you exhibit yourself with that man—who +was his best friend—after only +three short years!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Three long years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> No doubt they seemed long +to you. Three years, did I say? They +were like days to us who still keep his +memory green!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> Who still bear his name, because +no other name sounds so noble in +our ears.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Rather than change it, we +have declined very flattering proposals.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I am afraid that you have +made a mistake. You remember that +your brother was very anxious to see +you married.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> He imagined that all men +were like him, and deserved wives like +us, our poor, dear brother! Who would +ever have dreamed he could have been +forgotten so soon? Fancy his emotions +as he looks down on you from the skies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I do not believe for one +moment that he has any regrets. If he +had, then what would be the use of being +in paradise? Don't you worry about me. +The best thing that a young widow can +do is marry at once. I was a very young +widow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> You were twenty-nine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Twenty-six.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> We concede you twenty-six. +At all events, you were not a child—not +to speak of the fact that no widow +can be said to be a child.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> No more than a single +woman can be said to be old. However, +I fail to see that there would be any +impropriety in my being present at the +unveiling of the statue.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Do you realize that the premature +death of your husband will be the +subject of all the speakers? They will +dwell on the bereavement which we have +suffered through the loss of such an eminent +man. How do you propose to take +it? When people see you standing there, +complacent and satisfied, alongside of +that man, do you suppose they will ever +believe that you are not reconciled?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> What will your husband do +while they are extolling the genius of +our brother, and he knows that he never +had any?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> That was not your brother's +opinion. He thought very highly of +Florencio.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Very highly. Our poor, dear +brother! Among his other abilities he +certainly had an extraordinary aptitude +for allowing himself to be deceived.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> That assumption is offensive +to me; it is unfair to all of us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> I hope you brought it with +you, Paquita?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> Yes; here it is.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Taking out a book.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Just look through this book +if you have a moment. It arrived to-day +from Madrid and is on sale at Valdivieso's. +Just glance through it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> What is the book? [<i>Reading +the title upon the cover.</i>] "Don Patricio +Molinete, the Man and His Work. +A Biography. Together with His Correspondence +and an Estimate of His Life." +Why, thanks—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> No, do not thank us. Read, +read what our poor brother has written +to the author of this book, who was one +of his intimate friends.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Recaredo Casalonga. Ah! +I remember—a rascal we were obliged +to turn out of the house. Do you mean +to say that scamp Casalonga has any +letters? Merely to hear the name makes +me nervous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> But go on! Page two hundred +and fourteen. Is that the page, +Paquita?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> It begins on page two hundred +and fourteen, but before it amounts +to anything turn the page.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Quick, quick! Let me see. +What does he say? What are these letters? +What is this? He says that I.... But +there is not a word of truth in +it. My husband could never have written +this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> But there it is in cold type. +You don't suppose they would dare to +print—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> But this is outrageous; +this book is a libel. It invades the private +life—the most private part of it! +It must be stopped.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> It cannot be stopped. You +will soon see whether or not it can be +stopped.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> Probably the edition is exhausted +by this time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Is that so? We shall see! +We shall see!—Florencio! Florencio! +Come quickly! Florencio!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Perhaps he has not yet returned.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> He seemed to be enjoying +himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Nonsense! He was never +out of the house. You are two old busybodies!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Carolina! You said that +without thinking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> I cannot believe my ears. +Did you say busybody.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> That is exactly what I said. +Now leave me alone. I can't stand it. It +is all your fault. You are insupportable!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia</span> and <span class="smcap">Paquita</span>. Carolina!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Florencio! Florencio!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Florencio enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> What is it, my dear? +What is the matter? Ah! You? I am +delighted....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Yes, we! And we are leaving +this house, where we have been insulted—forever!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> Where we have been called +busybodies!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Where we have been told +that we were insupportable!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> And when people say such +things you can imagine what they think!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> But Eudosia, Paquita.... +I do not understand. As far as I +am concerned....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> The person who is now your +wife will make her explanations to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> I never expected to be driven +out of our brother's house like this!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> Our poor, dear brother!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> But, Carolina—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Let them go! Let them +go! They are impossible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> Did you hear that, Eudosia? +We are impossible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> I heard it, Paquita. There +is nothing left for us to hear in this +house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Yes there is! You are as +impossible as all old maids.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eudosia.</span> There was something for us +to hear after all! Come, Paquita.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paquita.</span> Come, Eudosia.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They go out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> What is this trouble between +you and your sisters-in-law?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> There isn't any trouble. +We were arguing, that was all. There is +nothing those women like so much as +gossip, or making themselves disagreeable +in any way they can. Do you remember +Casalonga?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Recaredo Casalonga? I +should say I did remember him! That +man was a character, and strange to say, +a profound philosopher with it all. He +was quite a humorist.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Yes, he was. Well, this +philosopher, this humorist, has conceived +the terribly humorous idea of publishing +this book.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Let me see. "Don Patricio +Molinete, the Man and His Work. +A Biography. Together with His Correspondence +and an Estimate of His +Life." A capital idea! They were great +friends, you know, although I don't suppose +that there can be anything particular +in this book. What could Casalonga +tell us anyway?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Us? Nothing. But go on, +go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> You don't say! Letters +of Patricio's. Addressed to whom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> To the author of the book, +so it seems. Personal letters, they are +confidential. Go on, go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> "Dear Friend: Life is sad. +Perhaps you ask the cause of my disillusionment. +How is it that I have lost +my faith in the future, in the future of +our unfortunate land?" I remember that +time. He was already ill. This letter +was written after he had liver complaint +and took a dark view of everything. Ah! +What a pity that great men should be +subject to such infirmities! Think of the +intellect being made the slave of the +liver! We are but dust. "The future +of this unfortunate land...."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> No, that doesn't amount to +anything. Lower down, lower down. +Go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> "Life is sad!"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Are you beginning all over +again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> No, he repeats himself. +What is this? "I never loved but once +in my life; I never loved but one woman—my +wife." He means you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span>. Yes. Go on, go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio</span> "I never trusted but one +friend, my friend Florencio." He means +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Yes, yes; he means you. +But go on, go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I wonder what he can be +driving at. Ah! What does he say? +That you, that I....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Go on, go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> "This woman and this +man, the two greatest, the two pure, the +two unselfish passions of my life, in whom +my very being was consumed—how can +I bring myself to confess it? I hardly +dare admit it to myself! They are in +love—they love each other madly—in +secret—perhaps without even suspecting +themselves."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> What do you think of that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Suspecting themselves.... +"They are struggling to overcome +their guilty passion, but how long will +they continue to struggle? Yet I am +sorry for them both. What ought I to +do? I cannot sleep."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> What do you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Impossible! He never +wrote such letters. Besides, if he did, +they ought never to have been published.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> But true or false, they +have been published, and here they are. +Ah! But this is nothing! You ought to +see what he says farther on. He goes on +communicating his observations, and +there are some, to be perfectly frank, +which nobody could have made but himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> You don't mean to tell me +that you think these letters are genuine?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> They might be for all we +know. He gives dates and details.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> And all the time we +thought he suspected nothing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> You do jump so at conclusions, +Florencio. How could he suspect? +You know how careful we were about +everything, no matter what happened, so +as not to hurt his feelings.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> This only goes to show all +the good that it did us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> He could only suspect—that +it was the truth; that we were loving +in silence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Then perhaps you can explain +to me what was the use of all this +silence? Don't you see that what he has +done now is to go and blurt the whole +thing out to this rascal Casalonga?—an +unscrupulous knave whose only interest +in the matter is to turn these confidences +to his own advantage! It is useless to +attempt to defend it. Such foolishness +was unpardonable. I should never have +believed it of my friend. If he had any +doubts about me—about us—why didn't +he say so? Then we could have been +more careful, and have done something to +ease his mind. But this notion of running +and telling the first person who happens +along.... What a position does it +leave me in? In what light do we appear +at this time? Now, when everybody +is paying respect to his memory, and I +have put myself to all this trouble in +order to raise money for this monument—what +are people going to think when +they read these things?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I always said that we would +have trouble with that monument.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> How shall I have the face +to present myself to-morrow before the +monument?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> My sisters-in-law were +right. We are going to be conspicuous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Ah! But this must be +stopped. I shall run at once to the +offices of the papers, to the judicial authorities, +to the governor, to all the booksellers. +As for this Casalonga—Ah! +I will settle with him! Either he will retract +and confess that these letters are +forgeries from beginning to end, or I will +kill him! I will fight with him in +earnest!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Florencio! Don't forget +yourself! You are going too far. You +don't mean a duel? To expose your life?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Don't you see that it is impossible +to submit to such an indignity? +Where is this thing going to stop? Is +nobody's private life to be secure? And +this goes deeper than the private life—it +impugns the sanctity of our intentions.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> No, Florencio!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Let me go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Florencio! Anything but +a duel! No, no!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Ah! Either he will retract +and withdraw the edition of this libel or, +should he refuse....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Zurita!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> My friend.... You are +just in time!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Zurita enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Don Florencio.... Carolina.... +Don't say a word! I know +how you feel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Did you see it? Did you +hear it? Is this a civilized country in +which we live?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> But surely he has not heard +it already?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Yes, at the Club. Some one +had the book; they were passing it around....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> At the Club?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Don't be alarmed. Everybody +thinks it is blackmail—a case of +<i>chantage</i>. Don Patricio could never have +written such letters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Ah! So they think that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Even if he had, they deal with +private matters, which ought never to +have been made public.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Exactly my idea—with +private matters; they are confidential.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> I lost no time, as you may be +sure, of hurrying to Valdivieso's shop, +where the books are on sale. I found +him amazed; he was entirely innocent. +He bought the copies supposing that the +subject was of timely importance; that it +was of a serious nature. He hurried at +once to withdraw the copies from the +window, and ran in search of the author.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Of the author? Is the author +in town?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Yes, he came with the books; +he arrived with them this morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Ah! So this scamp Casalonga +is here, is he? Tell me where I +can find him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> At the Hotel de Europa.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Florencio! Don't you go! +Hold him back! He means to challenge +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Never! It is not worth the +trouble. Besides, you ought to hold yourself +above such things. Your wife is +above them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> But what will people say, +friend Zurita? What will people say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Everybody thinks it is a huge +joke.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> A joke? Then our position +is ridiculous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> I did not say that. What I +do say....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> No, no, friend Zurita; you +are a man of honor, you know that it is +necessary for me to kill this man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> But suppose he is the one +who kills you? No, Florencio, not a duel! +What is the use of the courts?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> No, I prefer to fight. My +dear Zurita, run in search of another +friend and stop at the Hotel de Europa +as my representatives. Seek out this +man, exact reparation upon the spot—a +reparation which shall be resounding, +complete. Either he declares over his +own signature that those letters are impudent +forgeries or, should he refuse....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Florencio!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Stop at nothing! Do not +haggle over terms. Let it be pistols with +real bullets, as we pace forward each to +each!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> But, Don Florencio!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina</span>. Don't go, I beg of you! +Don't leave the house!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> You are my friend—go +at once!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> No, he will never go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> But, Don Florencio! Consider.... The +situation is serious.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> When a man is made ridiculous +the situation ceases to be serious! +How shall I have the face to show myself +before the monument! I—his most +intimate friend! She, my wife, his +widow! And everybody thinking all the +while of those letters, imagining that I, +that she.... No, no! Run! Bring me +that retraction at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Not so fast! I hear the voice +of Valdivieso.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Eh? And Casalonga's! +Has that man the audacity to present +himself in my house?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Be calm! Since he is here, +perhaps he comes to explain. Let me +see—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes out</i>.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Florencio! Don't you receive +him! Don't you have anything to +do with that man!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I am in my own house. +Never fear! I shall not forget to conduct +myself as a gentleman. Now we +shall see how he explains the matter; +we shall see. But you had better retire +first. Questions of honor are not for +women.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> You know best; only I +think I might remain within earshot. I +am nervous. My dear!—Where are +your arms?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> What do I need of arms?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Be careful just the same. +Keep cool! Think of me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I am in my own house. +Have no fear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> It upsets me dreadfully to +see you in such a state.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> What are you doing now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Removing these vases in +case you should throw things. I should +hate awfully to lose them; they were a +present.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Hurry, dear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I am horribly nervous. +Keep cool, for heavens' sake! Control +yourself.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Carolina goes out. Zurita reënters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">ZURITA.</span> Are you calmer now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">FLORENCIO.</span> Absolutely. Is that man +here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Yes, Valdivieso brought him. +He desires to explain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Who? Valdivieso? Naturally. +But that other fellow, that Casalonga—what +does he want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> To have a few words with +you; to offer a thousand explanations.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> No more than one explanation +is possible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Consider a moment. In my +opinion it will be wiser to receive him. +He appears to be innocent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Of the first instincts of a +gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Exactly. I did not venture +to put it so plainly. He attaches no importance +to the affair whatever.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Of course not! It is nothing +to him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Nothing. However, you will +find him disposed to go to any length—retract, +make a denial, withdraw the +book from circulation. You had best +have a few words with him. But first +promise to control yourself. Shall I ask +them to come in?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Yes ... yes! Ask them +to come in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Poor Valdivieso is awfully +put out. He always had such a high opinion +of you. You are one of the two or +three persons in this town who buy books. +It would be a tremendous relief to him +if you would only tell him that you knew +he was incapable....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Thoroughly! Poor Valdivieso! +Ask him to come in; ask them +both to come in.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Zurita retires and returns presently +with Valdivieso and Casalonga.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> Señor Don Florencio! I +hardly know what to say. I am sure +that you will not question my good faith +in the matter. I had no idea ... in fact, +I never suspected....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I always knew you were +innocent! but this person....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Come, come now! Don't +blame it on me. How the devil was I to +know that you were here—and married +to his widow! Sport for the gods!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Do you hear what he says?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> I told you that he appeared +to be innocent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> And I told you that he +was devoid of the first instincts of a +gentleman; although I failed to realize +to what an extent. Sir—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Don't be absurd! Stop +making faces at me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> In the first place, I don't +recall that we were ever so intimate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Of course we were! Of +course! Anyhow, what difference does +it make? We were together for a whole +season; we were inseparable. Hard times +those for us both! But what did we +care? When one of us was out of money, +all he had to do was to ask the other, +and be satisfied.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Yes; I seem to recall that +the other was always I.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Ha, ha, ha! That might +be. Stranger things have happened. But +you are not angry with me, are you? +The thing is not worth all this fuss.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Do you hear what he says?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> You may be sure that if +I had had the slightest idea.... I +bought the books so as to take advantage +of the timeliness of the monument. If I +had ever suspected....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Identically my position—to +take advantage of the monument. +Life is hard. While the conservatives +are in power, I am reduced to extremities. +I am at my wit's end to earn an honest +penny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I admire your colossal impudence. +What are you going to do with +a man like this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Exactly the question that occurred +to me. What are you going to +do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> For a time I was reduced +to writing plays—like everybody else—although +mine were better. That was +the reason they did not succeed. Then +I married my last landlady; I was obliged +to settle with her somehow. A little difference +arose between us, so we agreed +to separate amicably after smashing all +the furniture. However, that will be of +no interest to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> No, no, it is of no interest +to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> A novel, my boy! A veritable +work of romance! I wandered all +over the country explaining views for +the cinematograph. You know what a +gift I have for talk? Wherever I appeared +the picture houses were crowded—even +to the exits. Then my voice gave +out. I was obliged to find some other +outlet for my activities. I thought of +my friends. You know what friends are; +as soon as a man needs them he hasn't +any friends. Which way was I to turn? +I happened to hear that you were unveiling +a monument to the memory of +friend Patricio. Poor Patricio! That +man was a friend! He could always be +relied upon. It occurred to me that I +might write out a few pages of reminiscences—preferably +something personal—and +publish any letters of his which I +had chanced to preserve.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> What luck!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Pshaw! Bread and butter—bread +and butter, man! A mere +pittance. It occurred to me that they +would sell better here than anywhere else—this +is where he lived. So I came this +morning third class—think of that, third +class!—and hurried at once to this fellow's +shop. I placed two thousand copies +with him, which he took from me at a horrible +discount. You know what these +booksellers are....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> I call you to witness—what +was customary under the circumstances. +He was selling for cash.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Am I the man to deny it? +You can divide mankind into two classes—knaves +and fools.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> Listen to this—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> You are not one of the +fools.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> I protest! How am I to +profit by the transaction? Do you suppose +that I shall sell a single copy of +this libel now that I know that it is offensive +to my particular, my excellent friend, +Don Florencio, and to his respected wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Thanks, friend Valdivieso, +thanks for that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> I shall burn the edition, +although you can imagine what that will +cost.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> The loss will be mine. It +will be at my expense.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> What did I tell you? +Florencio will pay. What are you complaining +about?—If I were in your place, +though, I'd be hanged if I would give the +man one penny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> What? When you have +collected spot cash?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> You don't call that collecting? +Not at that discount. The +paper was worth more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> The impudence of the +thing was worth more than the paper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Ha, ha, ha! Really, I +cannot find it in my heart to be angry +with you. You are too clever! But what +was I to do? I had to find some outlet +for my activities. Are you going to kill +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I have made my arrangements. +Do you suppose that I will submit +meekly to such an indignity? If +you refuse to fight, I will hale you before +the courts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Drop that tragic tone. A +duel? Between us? Over what? Because +the wife of a friend—who at the +same time happens to be your wife—has +been intimate with you? Suppose it had +been with some one else!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> The supposition is improper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> You are the first man I +ever heard of who was offended because +it was said that he had been intimate +with his wife. The thing is preposterous. +How are we ever going to fight over +it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> I can see his point of view.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Patricio could never have +written those letters, much less to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Talk as much as you like, +the letters are genuine. Although it may +have been foolish of Patricio to have +written them—that is a debatable question. +I published them so as to enliven +the book. A little harmless suggestion—people +look for it; it adds spice. Aside +from that, what motive could I have had +for dragging you into it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I admire your frankness +at least.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> What do you propose to do +with this man?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> What do you propose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> You know I was always +fond of you. You are a man of ability.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Thanks.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> You have more ability +than Patricio had. He was a worthy +soul, no doubt, but between us, who were +in the secret, an utter blockhead.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Hardly that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> I need not tell you what +reputations amount to in this country. If +he had had your brains, your transcendent +ability....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> How can I stop this man +from talking?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> You have always been too +modest in my opinion; you have remained +in the background in order to give him +a chance to shine, to attract attention. +Everybody knows that his best speeches +were written by you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florence.</span> You have no right to betray +my confidence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Yes, gentlemen, it is only +just that you should know. The real +brains belonged to this man, he is the +one who should have had the statue. As +a friend he is wonderful, unique!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> How am I going to fight +with this man?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> I will give out a statement +at once—for public consumption—declaring +that the letters are forgeries—or +whatever you think best; as it appeals +to you. Fix it up for yourself. It is of +no consequence anyhow. I am above this +sort of thing. I should be sorry, however, +to see this fellow receive more than +his due, which is two <i>reals</i> a copy, or +what he paid me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> I cannot permit you to +meddle in my affairs. You are a rogue +and a cheat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> A rogue and a cheat? In +that case you are the one I will fight with. +You are no friend of mine. You are an +exploiter of other men's brains.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> You are willing to fight +with me, are you—a respectable man, +the father of a family? After swindling +me out of my money!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Swindling? That is no +language to use in this house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> I use it where I like.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Gentlemen, gentlemen! +This is my house, this is the house of my +wife!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Valdivieso!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga</span> [<i>to Florencio</i>]. I choose +you for my second. And you too, my +friend—what is your name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> But will you listen to +him? Do you suppose that I will fight +with this rascal, with the first knave who +happens along? I, the father of a family?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> I cannot accept your explanation. +My friends will confer with +yours and apprise us as to the details. +Have everything ready for this afternoon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> Do you stand here and +sanction this nonsense? You cannot believe +one word that he says. No doubt +it would be convenient for you to retire +and use me as a Turk's head to receive +all the blows, when you are the one who +ought to fight!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Friend Valdivieso, I cannot +permit reflections upon my conduct +from you. After all, you need not have +purchased the book, which you did for +money, knowing that it was improper, +since it contained matter which was offensive +to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> Are you speaking in earnest?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I was never more in earnest +in my life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Yes, sir, and it is high +time for us all to realize that it is in +earnest. It was all your fault. Nobody +buys without spending the wares. It was +your business to have pointed out to me +the indiscretion I was about to commit. +[<i>To Florencio.</i>] I am perfectly willing +to withdraw if you wish to fight him, to +yield my place as the aggrieved party +to you. I should be delighted to act as +one of your seconds, with our good friend +here—what is your name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Zurita.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> My good friend Zurita.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> Am I losing my mind? +This is a trap which you have set for me, +a despicable trap!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Friend Valdivieso, I cannot +tolerate these reflections. I am incapable +of setting a trap.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Ah! And so am I! When you +entered this house you were familiar +with its reputation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> You have forgotten with +whom you are speaking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> Nonsense! This is too +much. I wash my hands of the whole +business. Is this the spirit in which my +advances are received? What I will do +now is sell the book—and if I can't sell +it, I will give it away! Everybody can +read it then—and they can talk as much +as they want to. This is the end! I am +through.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Wait? What was that? +I warn you not to sell so much as one +copy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> I should be sorry if you did. +Take care not to drag me into it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Nor me either.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Valdivieso.</span> Enough! Do as you see +fit—and I shall do the same. This is +the end—the absolute end! It is the +finish!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Rushes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Stop him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> It won't be necessary. I +shall go to the shop and take back the +edition. Whatever you intended to pay +him you can hand directly to me. I am +your friend; besides I need the money. +This man shall not get the best of me. +Oh! By the way, what are you doing to-night? +Have dinner with me. I shall +expect you at the hotel. Don't forget! +If you don't show up, I may drop in myself +and have dinner with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> No! What would my wife +say? She has trouble enough.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Nonsense! She knows me, +and we should have a good laugh. Is she +as charming, as good-looking, as striking +as ever? I am keen for her. I don't +need to ask whether she is happy. Poor +Patricio was a character! What a sight +he was! What a figure! And age doubled +him for good measure. I'll look in +on you later. It has been a rare pleasure +this time. There are few friends +like you. Come, shake hands! I am +touched; you know how it is. See you +later! If I don't come back, I have killed +my man and am in jail for it. Tell your +wife. If I can help out in any way.... +Good-by, my friend—ah, yes! +Zurita. I have a terrible head to-day. +See you later!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Did you ever see anything +equal of it? I never did, and I knew +him of old. But he has made progress.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> His assurance is fairly epic.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> What are you going to do +with a man who takes it like this? You +cannot kill him in cold blood—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Carolina reënters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Ah! Carolina! Were you +listening? You heard everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Yes, and in spite of it I +think he is fascinating.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Since Carolina feels that +way it simplifies the situation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Why not? She heard the compliments. +The man is irresistible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Carolina, it comes simply +to this: nobody attaches any importance +to the matter. Only two or three copies +have been sold.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Yes, but one of them was +to my sisters-in-law, which is the same +as if they had sold forty thousand. They +will tell everybody.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> They were doing it anyhow; +there is no further cause for worry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> At all events, I shall not attend +the unveiling to-morrow, and you +ought not to go either.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> But, wife!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Ah! The unveiling.... I +had forgotten to mention it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> To mention what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> It has been postponed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> How?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> The committee became nervous +at the last moment over the protests +against the nudes. After seeing +the photographs many ladies declined to +participate. At last the sculptor was +convinced, and he has consented to withdraw +the statue of Truth altogether, and +to put a tunic upon Industry, while Commerce +is to have a bathing-suit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> That will be splendid!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> All this, however, will require +several days, and by that time everything +will have been forgotten.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Casalonga reënters with the books. +He is completely out of breath and +drops them suddenly upon the +floor, where they raise a tremendous +cloud of dust.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> <i>Ay!</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> I had you scared! At +your service.... Here is the entire edition. +I returned him his thousand pesetas—I +declined to make it another penny. +I told you that would be all that was +necessary. I am a man of my word. +Now it is up to you. No more could be +asked! I am your friend and have said +enough. I shall have to find some other +outlet for my activities. That will be +all for to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> I will give you two thousand +pesetas. But beware of a second +edition!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Don't begin to worry so +soon. With this money I shall have +enough to be decent at least—at least +for two months. You know me, señora. +I am Florencio's most intimate friend, as +I was Patricio's most intimate friend, +which is to say one of the most intimate +friends you ever had.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> Yes, I remember.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> But I have changed since +that time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Not a bit of it! He is +just the same.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Yes, the change is in you. +You are the same, only you have improved. +[<i>To Carolina.</i>] I am amazed +at the opulence of your beauty, which a +fortunate marriage has greatly enhanced. +Have you any children?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> No....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> You are going to have +some.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Flatterer!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> But I must leave before +night: there is nothing for me to do here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> No, you have attended to +everything. I shall send it after you to +the hotel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> Add a little while you are +about it to cover expenses—by way of a +finishing touch.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Oh, very well!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> That will be all. Señora, +if I can be of service.... My good +Zurita! Friend Florencio! Before I +die I hope to see you again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Yes! Unless I die first.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> I know how you feel. +You take the worst end for yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Allow me that consolation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Casalonga.</span> God be with you, my +friend. Adios! Rest in peace. How +different are our fates! Life to you is +sweet. You have everything—love, +riches, satisfaction. While I—I laugh +through my tears!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> That cost you money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> What else did you expect? +I gave up to avoid a scandal upon your +account. I could see that you were nervous. +I would have fought if I could +have had my way; I would have carried +matters to the last extreme. Zurita will +tell you so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> I always said that monument +would cost us dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> Obviously! Two thousand +pesetas now, besides the twenty-five thousand +which I subscribed for the monument, +to say nothing of my uniform as +Chief of Staff which I had ordered for +the unveiling. Then there are the banquets +to the delegates....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Zurita.</span> Glory is always more expensive +than it is worth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> It is not safe to be famous +even at second hand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Carolina.</span> But you are not sorry?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florencio.</span> No, my Carolina, the glory +of being your husband far outweighs in +my eyes the disadvantages of being the +husband of his widow.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_SUNNY_MORNING" id="A_SUNNY_MORNING"></a>A SUNNY MORNING</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Serafin and Joaquin Alvarez Quintero</span><br /> +<small><span class="smcap">Translated from the Spanish by Lucretia Xavier Floyd.</span></small> +</h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyrighted, 1914, by Lucretia Xavier Floyd under the title of "A Morning of Sunshine."<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + +<p> </p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Petra</span> [<i>her maid</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Juanito</span> [<i>his servant</i>].<br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time:</span> <i>The Present</i>.</p> + + +<p> </p> + +<p>Published by special arrangement with Mrs. Lucretia Xavier Floyd and Mr. John +Garrett Underhill, the Society of Spanish Authors. Applications for permission +to produce this play must be made to the Society of Spanish Authors, Room 62, 20 +Nassau Street, New York.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>A SUNNY MORNING</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Serafin and Joaquin Alvarez Quintero</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>Scene laid in a retired part of a park +in Madrid, Spain. A bench at right. +Bright, sunny morning in autumn. Doña +Laura, a handsome old lady of about 70, +with white hair and of very refined appearance, +although elderly, her bright +eyes and entire manner prove her mental +facilities are unimpaired. She enters accompanied +by her maid Petra, upon whose +arm she leans with one hand, while the +other holds a parasol which she uses as a +cane.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> I am so glad we have +arrived. I feared my seat would be occupied. +What a beautiful morning!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Petra.</span> The sun is rather hot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Yes, to you who are +only 20 years old. [<i>She sits down on the +bench.</i>] Oh, I feel more tired to-day +than usual. [<i>Noticing Petra, who seems +impatient.</i>] Go, if you wish to chat with +your guard.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Petra.</span> He is not my guard, Señora; +he belongs to the park.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> He belongs more to you +than to the park. Go seek him, but remain +within calling distance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Petra.</span> I see him over there waiting +for me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Do not remain away +more than ten minutes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Petra.</span> Very well, Señora. [<i>Walks +toward right, but is detained.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Wait a moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Petra.</span> What does the Señora wish?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> You are carrying away +the bread crumbs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Petra.</span> Very true. I don't know +where my head is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. I do. It is +where your heart is—with your guard.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Petra.</span> Here, Señora. [<i>She hands +Doña Laura a small bag. Exit Petra.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Adios. [<i>Glancing toward +trees.</i>] Here come the rogues. +They know just when to expect me. +[<i>She rises, walks toward right, throws +three handfuls of bread crumbs.</i>] These +are for the most daring, these for the +gluttons, and these for the little ones +which are the biggest rogues. Ha, ha. +[<i>She returns to her seat and watches with +a pleased expression, the pigeons feeding.</i>] +There, that big one is always the +first. That little fellow is the least timid. +I believe he would eat from my hand. +That one takes his piece and flies to that +branch. He is a philosopher. But from +where do they all come? It seems as if +the news had been carried. Ha, ha. +Don't quarrel. There is enough for all. +To-morrow I'll bring more.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Don Gonzalo and Juanito. +Don Gonzalo is an old gentleman +over 70, gouty and impatient. He +leans upon Juanito's arm and drags +his feet along as he walks. He +displays ill temper.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Idling their time away. +They should be saying Mass.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Juanito.</span> You can sit here, Señor. +There is only a lady.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Doña Laura turns her head and listens +to the dialogue.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> I won't, Juanito. I +want a bench to myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Juanito.</span> But there is none.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> But that one over there +is mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Juanito.</span> But there are three priests +sitting there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Let them get up. +Have they gone, Juanito?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Juanito.</span> No, indeed. They are in +animated conversation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Just as if they were +glued to the seat. No hope of their leaving. +Come this way, Juanito. [<i>They +walk toward birds.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>indignantly</i>]. Look out!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>turning his head</i>]. Are +you talking to me, Señora?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Yes, to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> What do you wish?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> You have scared away +the birds who were feeding on bread +crumbs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> What do I care about +the birds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> But I do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> This is a public park.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Then why do you complain +that the priests have taken your +bench?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Señora, we have not +been introduced to each other. I do not +know why you take the liberty of addressing +me. Come, Juanito. [<i>Both +exit.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> What an ill-natured old +man. Why must some people get so fussy +and cross when they reach a certain age? +I am glad. He lost that bench, too. +Serves him right for scaring the birds. +He is furious. Yes, yes; find a seat if +you can. Poor fellow! He is wiping the +perspiration from his face. Here he +comes. A carriage would not raise more +dust than he does with his feet.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Don Gonzalo and Juanito.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Have the priests gone +yet, Juanito?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Juanito.</span> No, indeed, Señor. They +are still there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> The authorities should +place more benches here for these sunny +mornings. Well, I suppose I must resign +myself and sit on the same bench +with the old lady. [<i>Muttering to himself, +he sits at the extreme end of Doña +Laura's bench and looks at her indignantly. +Touches his hat as he greets +her.</i>] Good morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> What, you here again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> I repeat that we have +not been introduced.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> I am responding to +your greeting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Good morning should +be answered by good morning, and that is +what you should have said.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> And you should have +asked permission to sit on this bench +which is mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> The benches here are +public property.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Why, you said the one +the priests occupied was yours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Very well, very well. +I have nothing more to say. [<i>Between +his teeth</i>.] Doting old woman. She +should be at home with her knitting and +counting her beads.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Don't grumble any +more. I'm not going to leave here just +to please you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>brushing the dust from +his shoes with his handkerchief</i>]. If the +grounds were sprinkled more freely it +would be an improvement.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> What an idea, to brush +your shoes with your handkerchief.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Do you use a shoe brush +as a handkerchief?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> By what right do you +criticize my actions?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> By the rights of a neighbor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Juanito, give me my +book. I do not care to hear any more +nonsense.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> You are very polite.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Pardon me, Señora, +but if you did not interfere with what +does not concern you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> I generally say what I +think.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> And say more than +you should. Give me the book, Juanito.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Juanito.</span> Here it is, Señor. [<i>Juanito +takes book from pocket, hands it to Don +Gonzalo; then exits.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Don Gonzalo, casting indignant +glances at Doña Laura, puts on an +enormous pair of glasses, takes +from his pocket a reading-glass, +adjusts both to suit him, opens his +book.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> I thought you were going +to take out a telescope now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> What, again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Your sight must be +fine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Many times better than +yours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Yes, it is very evident.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Many hares and partridges +could bear testimony to my words.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Do you hunt?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> I did, and even now—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Oh, yes, of course.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Yes, Señora. Every +Sunday I take my gun and dog, you understand, +and go to one of my properties +near Aravaca, just to kill time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Yes, to kill time. That +is all you can kill.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Do you think so? I +could show you a wild boar's head in my +study—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Yes, and I could show +you a tiger's skin in my boudoir. What +an argument!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Very well, Señora, +please allow me to read. I do not feel +like having more conversation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Well, keep quiet then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> But first I shall take +a pinch of snuff. [<i>Takes out snuff box.</i>] +Will you have some? [<i>Offers box to +Doña Laura.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> If it is good?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> It is of the finest. +You will like it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>taking pinch of snuff</i>]. +It clears my head.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> And mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Do you sneeze?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Yes, Señora, three +times.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> And so do I. What a +coincidence!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>After taking the snuff, they await +the sneezes, making grimaces, and +then sneeze alternately three times +each.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> There, I feel better.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> So do I. [<i>Aside.</i>] The +snuff has made peace between us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> You will excuse me if +I read aloud?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Read as you please; +you will not disturb me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>reading</i>]. "All love is +sad, but sad and all, it is the best thing +that exists." That is from Campoamor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>reading</i>]. "The daughters +of the mothers I once loved, kiss me +now as they would kiss a wooden image." +Those lines are in the humorous +vein.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. So I see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> There are some beautiful +poems in this book. Listen: "Twenty +years have passed. He returns."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> You cannot imagine how +it affects me to see you reading with all +those glasses.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Can it be possible that +you read without requiring any?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Certainly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> At your age? You +must be jesting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Pass me the book, +please. [<i>takes book, reads aloud.</i>] +"Twenty years have passed. He returns. +And each upon beholding the other exclaims—Can +it be possible that this is +he? Merciful heavens, can this be she?"</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Doña Laura returns book to Don +Gonzalo.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Indeed, you are to be +envied for your wonderful eyesight.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>aside</i>]. I knew the lines +from memory.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> I am very fond of good +verse, very fond. I even composed some +in my youth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Good ones?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Of all kinds. I was a +great friend of Espronceda, Zorrilla, Becquer +and others. I first met Zorrilla in +America.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Why, have you been in +America?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Several times. The +first time I went I was only six years +old.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Columbus must have +carried you in one of his caravels.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. Not quite +as bad as that. I am old, I admit, but +I did not know Ferdinand and Isabella. +[<i>They both laugh.</i>] I was also a great +friend of Campoamor. I met him in +Valencia. I am a native of that city.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> You are?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> I was brought up there +and there I spent my early youth. Have +you ever visited that city?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Yes, Señor. Not far +from Valencia there was a mansion that +if still there, should retain memories of +me. I spent there several seasons. This +was many, many years ago. It was near +the sea, concealed among lemon and +orange trees. They called it—let me +see, what did they call it?—"Maricela."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>startled</i>]. Maricela?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Maricela. Is the name +familiar to you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Yes, very familiar. +If my memory serves me right, for we +forget as we grow old, there lived in that +mansion the most beautiful woman I have +ever seen, and I assure you I have seen a +few. Let me see—what was her name? +Laura—Laura—Laura Lorente.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>startled</i>]. Laura Lorente?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Yes. [<i>They look at +each other strangely.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>recovering herself</i>]. +Nothing. You reminded me of my best +friend.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> How strange!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> It is strange. She was +called "The Silver Maiden."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Precisely, "The Silver +Maiden." By that name she was known +in that locality. I seem to see her as if +she were before me now, at that window +of the red roses. Do you remember that +window?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Yes, I remember. It +was that of her room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> She spent many hours +there. I mean in my days.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>sighing</i>]. And in mine, +too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> She was ideal. Fair +as a lily, jet black hair and black eyes, +with a very sweet expression. She seemed +to cast a radiance wherever she was. +Her figure was beautiful, perfect. "What +forms of sovereign beauty God models in +human sculpture!" She was a dream.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>aside</i>]. If you but knew +that dream was now by your side, you +would realize what dreams are worth. +[<i>Aloud</i>.] She was very unfortunate and +had a sad love affair.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Very sad. [<i>They look +at each other.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> You know of it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Yes. +<span class="smcap"> +Doña Laura</span> [<i>aside</i>]. Strange are +the ways of Providence! This man is my +early lover.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> The gallant lover, if +we refer to the same affair—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> To the duel?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Precisely, to the duel. +The gallant lover was—my cousin, of +whom I was very fond.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Oh, yes, a cousin. My +friend told me in one of her letters the +story of that love affair, truly romantic. +He, your cousin, passed by on horseback +every morning by the rose path under +her window, and tossed up to her balcony +a bouquet of flowers which she +caught.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> And later in the afternoon, +the gallant horseman would return +by the same path, and catch the bouquet +of flowers she would toss him. Was it +not so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Yes. They wanted to +marry her to a merchant whom she did +not fancy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> And one night, when +my cousin watched under her window to +hear her sing, this new lover presented +himself unexpectedly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> And insulted your cousin.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> There was a quarrel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> And later a duel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Yes, at sunrise, on the +beach, and the merchant was badly +wounded. My cousin had to conceal himself +for a few days and later to fly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> You seem to know the +story perfectly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> And so do you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> I have told you that my +friend related it to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> And my cousin to me. +[<i>Aside.</i>] This woman is Laura. What +a strange fate has brought us together +again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>aside</i>]. He does not +suspect who I am. Why tell him? Let +him preserve his illusion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>aside</i>]. She does not +suspect she is talking to her old lover. +How can she? I will not reveal my +identity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> And was it you, by +chance, who advised your cousin to forget +Laura?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Why, my cousin never +forgot her for one instant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> How do you account, +then, for his conduct?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> I will explain. The +young man first took refuge in my house, +fearful of the consequences of his duel +with that man, so much beloved in that +locality. From my home he went to +Seville, then came to Madrid. He wrote +to Laura many letters, some in verse. +But, undoubtedly, they were intercepted +by her parents, for she never answered +them. Gonzalo then, in despair, and believing +his loved one lost to him forever, +joined the army, went to Africa, and +there, in a trench, met a glorious death, +grasping the flag of Spain and repeating +the name of his beloved—Laura—Laura—Laura.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>aside</i>]. What an atrocious +lie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>aside</i>]. I could not +have killed myself in a more glorious +manner.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Such a calamity must +have caused you the greatest sorrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Yes, indeed, Señora. +As great as if it were a brother. I presume +though, that on the contrary, Laura +in a short time was chasing butterflies +in her garden, indifferent to everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> No, Señor, no indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> It is usually a woman's +way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Even if you consider it +a woman's way, the "Silver Maiden" was +not of that disposition. My friend awaited +news for days, months, a year, and +no letter came. One afternoon, just at +sunset, and as the first stars were appearing, +she was seen to leave the house, +and with quick steps, wend her way toward +the beach, that beach where her +beloved had risked his life. She wrote +his name on the sand, then sat upon a +rock, her gaze fixed upon the horizon. +The waves murmured their eternal monologue +and slowly covered the rock where +the maiden sat. Shall I tell you the rest?—The +tide rose and carried her off to +sea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Good heavens!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> The fishermen of that +sea-coast who tell the story, affirm that it +was a long time before the waves washed +away that name written on the sand. +[<i>Aside.</i>] You will not get ahead of me +in inventing a romantic death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>aside</i>]. She lies +more than I do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Poor Laura!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Poor Gonzalo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>aside</i>]. I will not tell +him that in two years I married another.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>aside</i>]. I will not +tell her that in three months I went to +Paris with a ballet dancer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> What strange pranks +Fate plays! Here you and I, complete +strangers, met by chance, and in discussing +the romance of friends of long +ago, we have been conversing as we were +old friends.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Yes, it is strange, considering +we commenced our conversation +quarreling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Because you scared +away the birds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> I was in a bad temper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Yes, that was evident. +[<i>Sweetly.</i>] Are you coming to-morrow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Most certainly, if it is +a sunny morning. And not only will I +not scare away the birds, but will also +bring them bread crumbs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Thank you very much. +They are very interesting and deserve +to be noticed. I wonder where my maid +is? [<i>Doña Laura rises; Don Gonzalo +also rises.</i>] What time can it be? [<i>Doña +Laura walks toward left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> It is nearly twelve +o'clock. Where can that scamp Juanito +be? [<i>Walks toward right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> There she is talking with +her guard. [<i>Signals with her hand for +her maid to approach.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>looking at Laura, +whose back is turned. Aside</i>]. No, no, +I will not reveal my identity. I am a +grotesque figure now. Better that she +recall the gallant horseman who passed +daily under her window and tossed her +flowers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> How reluctant she is to +leave him. Here she comes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> But where can Juanito +be? He has probably forgotten everything +in the society of some nursemaid. +[<i>Looks toward right and signals with his +hand.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>looking at Gonzalo, +whose back is turned. Aside</i>]. No, I +will not tell him I am Laura. I am too +sadly altered. It is better he should remember +me as the blackeyed girl who +tossed him flowers as he passed through +the rose path in that garden.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Juanito enters by right: Petra by +left. She has a bunch of violets in +her hand.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Well, Petra, I thought +you were never coming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> But, Juanito, what delayed +you so? It is very late.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Petra</span> [<i>handing violets to Doña +Laura</i>]. My lover gave me these violets +for you, Señora.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> How very nice of him. +Thank him for me. They are very fragrant. +[<i>As she takes the violets from +her maid, a few loose ones drop to the +ground.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> My dear Señora, this +has been a great honor and pleasure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> And it has also been a +pleasure to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Good-by until to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Until to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> If it is a sunny day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> If it is a sunny day. +Will you go to your bench?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> No, Señora, I will come +to this, if you do not object?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> This bench is at your +disposal. [<i>Both laugh.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> And I will surely bring +the bread crumbs. [<i>Both laugh again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Until to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Until to-morrow.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Laura walks away on her maid's +arm toward right. Gonzalo, before +leaving with Juanito, trembling +and with a great effort, stoops to +pick up the violets Laura dropped. +Just then, Laura turns her head +and sees him pick up flowers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Juanito.</span> What are you doing, Señor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> Wait, Juanito, wait.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura</span> [<i>aside</i>]. There is no +doubt. It is he.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo</span> [<i>walks toward left. +Aside</i>]. There can be no mistake. It is +she.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Doña Laura and Don Gonzalo wave +farewells to each other from a distance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doña Laura.</span> Merciful heavens! This +is Gonzalo.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Don Gonzalo.</span> And to think that this +is Laura.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Before disappearing they give one +last smiling look at each other.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CREDITOR" id="THE_CREDITOR"></a>THE CREDITOR</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By August Strindberg</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> +<span class="smcap">Thelka.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>her husband, a painter</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>her divorced husband</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Two Ladies, a Waiter.</span><br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE CREDITOR</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By August Strindberg</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A small watering-place. Time, +the present. Stage directions with reference +to the actors.</i></p> + +<p><i>A drawing-room in a watering-place; +furnished as above.</i></p> + +<p><i>Door in the middle, with a view out +on the sea; side doors right and left; +by the side door on the left the button +of an electric bell; on the right of the +door in the center a table, with a decanter +of water and a glass. On the left of the +door in the center a what-not; on the +right a fireplace in front; on the right a +round table and arm-chair; on the left a +sofa, a square table, a settee; on the table +a small pedestal with a draped figure—papers, +books, arm-chairs. Only the +items of furniture which are introduced +into the action are referred to in the +above plan. The rest of the scenery remains +unaffected. It is summer, and +the day-time.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span></p> + +<p>[<i>Adolf sits on the settee on the left of +the square table; his stick is propped up +near him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> And it's you I've got to thank +for all this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>walks up and down on the +right, smoking a cigar</i>]. Oh, nonsense.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Indeed, I have. Why, the first +day after my wife went away, I lay on +my sofa like a cripple and gave myself +up to my depression; it was as though +she had taken my crutches, and I couldn't +move from the spot. A few days went +by, and I cheered up and began to pull +myself together. The delirious nightmares +which my brain had produced, +went away. My head became cooler and +cooler. A thought which I once had +came to the surface again. My desire +to work, my impulse to create, woke up. +My eye got back again its capacity for +sound sharp observation. You came, old +man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Yes, you were in pretty low +water, old man, when I came across you, +and you went about on crutches. Of +course, that doesn't prove that it was +simply my presence that helped so much +to your recovery: you needed quiet, and +you wanted masculine companionship.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You're right in that, as you +are in everything else you say. I used +to have it in the old days. But after my +marriage it seemed unnecessary. I was +satisfied with the friend of my heart +whom I had chosen. All the same I soon +got into fresh sets, and made many new +acquaintances. But then my wife got +jealous. She wanted to have me quite +to herself; but much worse than that, +my friends wanted to have her quite to +themselves—and so I was left out in the +cold with my jealousy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You were predisposed to this +illness, you know that.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He passes on the left behind the +square table and comes to Adolf's +left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I was afraid of losing her—and +tried to prevent it. Are you surprised +at it? I was never afraid for a +moment that she'd be unfaithful to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> What husband ever was +afraid?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Strange, isn't it? All I +troubled about was simply this—about +friends getting influence over her and +so being able indirectly to acquire power +over me—and I couldn't bear that at +all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> So you and your wife didn't +have quite identical views?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I've told you so much, you +may as well know everything—-my wife +is an independent character. [<i>Gustav +laughs.</i>] What are you laughing at, old +man?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Go on, go on. She's an independent +character, is she?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> She won't take anything from +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> But she does from everybody +else?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. Yes. And +I've felt about all this, that the only +reason why my views were so awfully repugnant +to her, was because they were +mine, not because they appeared absurd +on their intrinsic merits. For it often +happened that she'd trot out my old +ideas, and champion them with gusto as +her own. Why, it even came about that +one of my friends gave her ideas which +he had borrowed direct from me. She +found them delightful; she found everything +delightful that didn't come from +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> In other words, you're not +truly happy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Oh yes, I am. The woman +whom I desired is mine, and I never +wished for any other.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Do you never wish to be free +either?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I wouldn't like to go quite so +far as that. Of course the thought crops +up now and again, how calmly I should +be able to live if I were free—but she +scarcely leaves me before I immediately +long for her again, as though she were +my arm, my leg. Strange. When I'm +alone I sometimes feel as though she +didn't have any real self of her own, as +though she were a part of my ego, a +piece out of my inside, that stole away +all my will, all my <i>joie de vivre</i>. Why, +my very marrow itself, to use an anatomical +expression, is situated in her; +that's what it seems like.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Viewing the matter broadly, +that seems quite plausible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Nonsense. An independent +person like she is, with such a tremendous +lot of personal views, and when I +met her, what was I then? Nothing. An +artistic child which she brought up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> But afterwards you developed +her intellect and educated her, didn't +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No; her growth remained stationary, +and I shot up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Yes; it's really remarkable, +but her literary talent already began to +deteriorate after her first book, or, to +put it as charitably as possible, it didn't +develop any further. [<i>He sits down opposite +Adolf on the sofa on the left.</i>] +Of course she then had the most promising +subject-matter—for of course she +drew the portrait of her first husband—you +never knew him, old man? He must +have been an unmitigated ass.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I've never seen him. He was +away for more than six months, but the +good fellow must have been as perfect +an ass as they're made, judging by her +description—you can take it from me, +old man, that her description wasn't exaggerated.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Quite; but why did she marry +him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> She didn't know him then. +People only get to know one another +afterwards, don't you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> But, according to that, people +have no business to marry until—Well, +the man was a tyrant, obviously.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Obviously?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> What husband wouldn't be? +[<i>Casually.</i>] Why, old chap, you're as +much a tyrant as any of the others.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Me? I? Well, I allow my +wife to come and go as she jolly well +pleases!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>stands up</i>]. Pah! a lot of +good that is. I didn't suppose you kept +her locked up. [<i>He turns round behind +the square table and comes over to Adolf +on the right.</i>] Don't you mind if she's +out all night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I should think I do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Look here. [<i>Resuming his +earlier tone.</i>] Speaking as man to man, +it simply makes you ridiculous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Ridiculous? Can a man's +trusting his wife make him ridiculous?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Of course it can. And you've +been so for some time. No doubt about +it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He walks round the round table on +the right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. Me? I'd have +preferred to be anything but that. I +must put matters right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Don't you get so excited, +otherwise you'll get an attack again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. Why doesn't +she look ridiculous when I stay out all +night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Why? Don't you bother +about that. That's how the matter +stands, and while you're fooling about +moping, the mischief is done.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes behind the square table, +and walks behind the sofa.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> What mischief?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Her husband, you know, was +a tyrant, and she simply married him in +order to be free. For what other way +is there for a girl to get free, than by +getting the so-called husband to act as +cover?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Why, of course.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> And now, old man, you're the +cover.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> As her husband.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>looks absent</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Am I not right?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>uneasily</i>]. I don't know. +[<i>Pause.</i>] A man lives for years on end +with a woman without coming to a clear +conclusion about the woman herself, or +how she stands in relation to his own +way of looking at things. And then all +of a sudden a man begins to reflect—and +then there's no stopping. Gustav, old +man, you're my friend, the only friend +I've had for a long time, and this last +week you've given me back all my life +and pluck. It seems as though you'd +radiated your magnetism over me. You +were the watchmaker who repairs the +works in my brain, and tightened the +spring. [<i>Pause.</i>] Don't you see yourself +how much more lucidly I think, how +much more connectedly I speak, and at +times it almost seems as though my +voice had got back the timbre it used to +have in the old days.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I think so, too. What can be +the cause of it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I don't know. Perhaps one +gets accustomed to talk more softly to +women. Thekla, at any rate, was always +ragging me because I shrieked.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> And then you subsided into +a minor key, and allowed yourself to be +put in the corner.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Don't say that. [<i>Reflectively.</i>] +That wasn't the worst of it. Let's +talk of something else—where was I +then—I've got it. [<i>Gustav turns round +again at the back of the square table and +comes to Adolf on his right.</i>] You came +here, old man, and opened my eyes to the +mysteries of my art. As a matter of +fact, I've been feeling for some time that +my interest in painting was lessening, +because it didn't provide me with a +proper medium to express what I had +in me; but when you gave me the reason +for this state of affairs, and explained +to me why painting could not possibly +be the right form for the artistic impulse +of the age, then I saw the true light and +I recognized that it would be from now +onwards impossible for me to create in +colors.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Are you so certain, old man, +that you won't be able to paint any more, +that you won't have any relapse?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Quite. I have tested myself. +When I went to bed the evening after +our conversation I reviewed your chain of +argument point by point, and felt convinced +that it was sound. But the next +morning, when my head cleared again, +after the night's sleep, the thought flashed +through me like lightning that you might +be mistaken all the same. I jumped up, +and snatched up a brush and palette, in +order to paint, but—just think of it!—it +was all up. I was no longer capable +of any illusion. The whole thing +was nothing but blobs of color, and I was +horrified at the thought. I could never +have believed I could convert any one else +to the belief that painted canvas was +anything else except painted canvas. +The scales had fallen from my eyes, and +I could as much paint again as I could +become a child again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You realized then that the +real striving of the age, its aspiration +for reality, for actuality, can only find +a corresponding medium in sculpture, +which gives bodies extension in the three +dimensions.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>hesitating</i>]. The three dimensions? +Yes—in a word, bodies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> And now you want to become +a sculptor? That means that you were +a sculptor really from the beginning; +you got off the line somehow, so you only +needed a guide to direct you back again +to the right track. I say, when you work +now, does the great joy of creation come +over you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Now, I live again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> May I see what you're doing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>undraping a figure on the +small table</i>]. A female figure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>probing</i>]. Without a model, +and yet so lifelike?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>heavily</i>]. Yes, but it is like +somebody; extraordinary how this woman +is in me, just as I am in her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> That last is not so extraordinary—do +you know anything about +transfusion?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Blood transfusion? Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> It seems to me that you've +allowed your veins to be opened a bit too +much. The examination of this figure +clears up many things which I'd previously +only surmised. You loved her +infinitely?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes; so much that I could +never tell whether she is I, or I am her; +when she laughed I laughed; when she +cried I cried, and when—just imagine +it—our child came into the world I suffered +the same as she did.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>stepping a little to the right</i>]. +Look here, old chap, I am awfully sorry +to have to tell you, but the symptoms +of epilepsy are already manifesting themselves.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>crushed</i>]. In me? What +makes you say so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Because I watched these +symptoms in a younger brother of mine, +who eventually died of excess.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He sits down in the arm-chair by +the circular table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> How did it manifest itself—that +disease, I mean?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Gustav gesticulates vividly; Adolf +watches with strained attention, +and involuntarily imitates Gustav's +gestures.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> A ghastly sight. If you feel +at all off color, I'd rather not harrow +you by describing the symptoms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. Go on; go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Well, it's like this. Fate had +given the youngster for a wife a little +innocent, with kiss-curls, dove-like eyes, +and a baby face, from which there spoke +the pure soul of an angel. In spite of +that, the little one managed to appropriate +the man's prerogative.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> What is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Initiative, of course; and the +inevitable result was that the angel came +precious near taking him away to heaven. +He first had to be on the cross and feel +the nails in his flesh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>suffocating</i>]. Tell me, what +was it like?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>slowly</i>]. There were times +when he and I would sit quite quietly +by each other and chat, and then—I'd +scarcely been speaking a few minutes before +his face became ashy white, his +limbs were paralyzed, and his thumbs +turned in towards the palm of the hand. +[<i>With a gesture.</i>] Like that! [<i>Adolf +imitates the gesture.</i>] And his eyes were +shot with blood, and he began to chew, +do you see, like this. [<i>He moves his lips +as though chewing; Adolf imitates him +again.</i>] The saliva stuck in his throat; +the chest contracted as though it had been +compressed by screws on a joiner's bench; +there was a flicker in the pupils like gas +jets; foam spurted from his mouth, and +he sank gently back in the chair as though +he were drowning. Then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>hissing</i>]. Stop!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Then—are you unwell?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>gets up and fetches a glass of +water from the table on the right near +the center door</i>]. Here, drink this, and +let's change the subject.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>drinks, limp</i>]. Thanks; go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Good! When he woke up he +had no idea what had taken place. [<i>He +takes the glass back to the table.</i>] He +had simply lost consciousness. Hasn't +that ever happened to you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Now and again I have attacks +of dizziness. The doctor puts it down +to anæmia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>on the right of Adolf</i>]. That's +just how the thing starts, mark you. +Take it from me, you're in danger of +contracting epilepsy; if you aren't on +your guard, if you don't live a careful +and abstemious life, all round.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> What can I do to effect that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Above all, you must exercise +the most complete continence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> For how long?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Six months at least.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I can't do it. It would upset +all our life together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Then it's all up with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I can't do it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You can't save your own life? +But tell me, as you've taken me into +your confidence so far, haven't you any +other wound that hurts you?—some +other secret trouble in this multifarious +life of ours, with all its numerous opportunities +for jars and complications? +There is usually more than one <i>motif</i> +which is responsible for a discord. +Haven't you got a skeleton in the cupboard, +old chap, which you hide even +from yourself? You told me a minute +ago you'd given your child to people to +look after. Why didn't you keep it with +you?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes behind the square table on +the left and then behind the sofa.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>covers the figure on the small +table with a cloth</i>]. It was my wife's +wish to have it nursed outside the house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> The motive? Don't be afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Because when the kid was +three years old she thought it began to +look like her first husband.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Re-a-lly? Ever seen the first +husband?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No, never. I just once cast a +cursory glance over a bad photograph, +but I couldn't discover any likeness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Oh, well, photographs are +never like, and besides, his type of face +may have changed with time. By the +by, didn't that make you at all jealous?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Not a bit. The child was born +a year after our marriage, and the husband +was traveling when I met Thekla, +here—in this watering-place—in this +very house. That's why we come here +every summer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Then all suspicion on your +part was out of the question? But so +far as the intrinsic facts of the matter +are concerned you needn't be jealous at +all, because it not infrequently happens +that the children of a widow who marries +again are like the deceased husband. +Very awkward business, no question +about it; and that's why, don't you know, +the widows are burned alive in India. +Tell me, now, didn't you ever feel jealous +of him, of the survival of his memory in +your own self? Wouldn't it have rather +gone against the grain if he had just met +you when you were out for a walk, and, +looking straight at Thekla, said "We," +instead of "I"? "We."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I can't deny that the thought +has haunted me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>sits down opposite Adolf on +the sofa on the left</i>]. I thought as much, +and you'll never get away from it. There +are discords in life, you know, which +never get resolved, so you must stuff +your ears with wax, and work. Work, +get older, and heap up over the coffin a +mass of new impressions, and then the +corpse will rest in peace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Excuse my interrupting you—but +it is extraordinary at times how +your way of speaking reminds me of +Thekla. You've got a trick, old man, of +winking with your right eye as though +you were counting, and your gaze has the +same power over me as hers has.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> No, really?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> And now you pronounce your +"No, really?" in the same indifferent +tone that she does. "No, really?" is one +of her favorite expressions, too, you +know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Perhaps there is a distant relationship +between us: all men and women +are related of course. Anyway, there's +no getting away from the strangeness +of it, and it will be interesting for me to +make the acquaintance of your wife, so +as to observe this remarkable characteristic.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> But just think of this, she +doesn't take a single expression from me; +why, she seems rather to make a point of +avoiding all my special tricks of speech; +all the same, I have seen her make use of +one of my gestures; but it is quite the +usual thing in married life for a husband +and a wife to develop the so-called +marriage likeness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Quite. But look here now. +[<i>He stands up.</i>] That woman has never +loved you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Nonsense.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Pray excuse me, woman's love +consists simply in this—in taking in, in +receiving. She does not love the man +from whom she takes nothing: she has +never loved you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He turns round behind the square +table and walks to Adolf's right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I suppose you don't think that +she'd be able to love more than once?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> No. Once bit, twice shy. +After the first time, one keeps one's eyes +open, but you have never been really +bitten yet. You be careful of those who +have; they're dangerous customers.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes round the circular table on +the right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> What you say jabs a knife into +my flesh. I've got a feeling as though +something in me were cut through, but +I can do nothing to stop it all by myself, +and it's as well it should be so, for +abscesses will be opened in that way +which would otherwise never be able to +come to a head. She never loved me? +Why did she marry me, then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Tell me first how it came +about that she did marry you, and +whether she married you or you her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> God knows! That's much too +hard a question to be answered offhand, +and how did it take place?—it took more +than a day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Shall I guess?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes behind the round table, toward +the left, and sits on the <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'soft'">sofa</ins>.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You'll get nothing for your +pains.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Not so fast! From the insight +which you've given me into your +own character, and that of your wife, +I find it pretty easy to work out the sequence +of the whole thing. Listen to me +and you'll be quite convinced. [<i>Dispassionately +and in an almost jocular tone.</i>] +The husband happened to be traveling +on study and she was alone. At first +she found a pleasure in being free. Then +she imagined that she felt the void, for +I presume that she found it pretty boring +after being alone for a fortnight. +Then he turned up, and the void begins +gradually to be filled—the picture of the +absent man begins gradually to fade in +comparison, for the simple reason that +he is a long way off—you know of course +the psychological algebra of distance? +And when both of them, alone as they +were, felt the awakening of passion, they +were frightened of themselves, of him, +of their own conscience. They sought for +protection, skulked behind the fig-leaf, +played at brother and sister, and the more +sensual grew their feelings the more +spiritual did they pretend their relationship +really was.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Brother and sister! How did +you know that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I just thought that was how +it was. Children play at mother and +father, but of course when they grow +older they play at brother and sister—so +as to conceal what requires concealment; +they then discard their chaste desires; +they play blind man's bluff till +they've caught each other in some dark +corner, where they're pretty sure not to +be seen by anybody. [<i>With increased +severity.</i>] But they are warned by their +inner consciences that an eye sees them +through the darkness. They are afraid—and +in their panic the absent man begins +to haunt their imagination—to assume +monstrous proportions—to become +metamorphosed—he becomes a nightmare +who oppresses them in that love's +young dream of theirs. He becomes the +creditor [<i>he raps slowly on the table +three times with his finger, as though +knocking at the door</i>] who knocks at the +door. They see his black hand thrust +itself between them when their own are +reaching after the dish of pottage. They +hear his unwelcome voice in the stillness +of the night, which is only broken by the +beating of their own pulses. He doesn't +prevent their belonging to each other, but +he is enough to mar their happiness, and +when they have felt this invisible power +of his, and when at last they want to +run away, and make their futile efforts +to escape the memory which haunts them, +the guilt which they have left behind, the +public opinion which they are afraid of, +and they lack the strength to bear their +own guilt, then a scapegoat has to be +exterminated and slaughtered. They +posed as believers in Free Love, but they +didn't have the pluck to go straight to +him, to speak straight out to him and +say, "We love each other." They were +cowardly, and that's why the tyrant had +to be assassinated. Am I not right?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes; but you're forgetting +that she trained me, gave me new +thoughts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I haven't forgotten it. But +tell me, how was it that she wasn't able to +succeed in educating the other man—in +educating him into being really modern?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> He was an utter ass.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Right you are—he was an +ass; but that's a fairly elastic word, and +according to her description of him, in +her novel, his asinine nature seemed to +have consisted principally in the fact that +he didn't understand her. Excuse the +question, but is your wife really as deep +as all that? I haven't found anything +particularly profound in her writings.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Nor have I. I must really +own that I too find it takes me all my +time to understand her. It's as though +the machinery of our brains couldn't +catch on to each other properly—as +though something in my head got broken +when I try to understand her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Perhaps you're an ass as well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No, I flatter myself I'm not +that, and I nearly always think that she's +in the wrong—and, for the sake of argument, +would you care to read this letter +which I got from her to-day?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He takes a letter out of his pocketbook.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>reads it cursorily</i>]. Hum, I +seem to know the style so well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Like a man's, almost.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Well, at any rate I know a +man who had a style like that. [<i>Standing +up.</i>] I see she goes on calling you +brother all the time—do you always keep +up the comedy for the benefit of your +two selves? Do you still keep on using +the fig leaves, even though they're a trifle +withered—you don't use any term of +endearment?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No. In my view, I couldn't +respect her quite so much if I did.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>hands back the letter</i>]. I see, +and she calls herself "sister" so as to +inspire respect.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He turns around and passes the +square table on Adolf's right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I want to esteem her more +than I do myself. I want her to be my +better self.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Oh, you be your better self; +though I quite admit it's less convenient +than having somebody else to do it for +you. Do you want, then, to be your wife's +inferior?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes, I do. I find pleasure in +always allowing myself to be beaten by +her a little. For instance, I taught her +swimming, and it amuses me when she +boasts about being better and pluckier +than I am. At the beginning I simply +pretended to be less skillful and courageous +than she was, in order to give her +pluck, but one day, God knows how it +came about, I was actually the worse +swimmer and the one with less pluck. +It seemed as though she's taken all my +grit away in real earnest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> And haven't you taught her +anything else?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes—but this is in confidence—I +taught her spelling, because she +didn't know it. Just listen to this. When +she took over the correspondence of the +household I gave up writing letters, and—will +you believe it?—simply from lack +of practice I've lost one bit of grammar +after another in the course of the year. +But do you think she ever remembers +that she has to thank me really for her +proficiency? Not for a minute. Of +course, I'm the ass now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Ah, really? You're the ass +now, are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I'm only joking, of course.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Obviously. But this is pure +cannibalism, isn't it? Do you know what +I mean? Well, the savages devour their +enemies so as to acquire their best +qualities. Well, this woman has devoured +your soul, your pluck, your +knowledge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> And my faith. It was I who +kept her up to the mark and made her +write her first book.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>with facial expression</i>]. +Re-a-lly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> It was I who fed her up with +praise, even when I thought her work +was no good. It was I who introduced +her into literary sets, and tried to make +her feel herself in clover; defended her +against criticism by my personal intervention. +I blew courage into her, kept +on blowing it for so long that I got out +of breath myself. I gave and gave and +gave—until nothing was left for me myself. +Do you know—I'm going to tell +you the whole story—do you know how +the thing seems to me now? One's temperament +is such an extraordinary thing, +and when my artistic successes looked as +though they would eclipse her—her prestige—I +tried to buck her up by belittling +myself and by representing that my art +was one that was inferior to hers. I +talked so much of the general insignificant +rôle of my particular art, and harped +on it so much, thought of so many good +reasons for my contention, that one fine +day I myself was soaked through and +through with the worthlessness of the +painter's art; so all that was left was a +house of cards for you to blow down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Excuse my reminding you of +what you said, but at the beginning of +our conversation you were asserting that +she took nothing from you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> She doesn't—now, at any +rate; now there is nothing left to take.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> So the snake has gorged herself, +and now she vomits.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Perhaps she took more from +me than I knew of.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Oh, you can reckon on that +right enough—she took without your +noticing it. [<i>He goes behind the square +table and comes in front of the sofa.</i>] +That's what people call stealing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Then what it comes to is that +she hasn't educated me at all?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Rather you her. Of course +she knew the trick well enough of making +you believe the contrary. Might I +ask how she pretended to educate you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Oh—at first—hum!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Well? [<i>He leans his arms +on the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Well, I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> No; it was she—she.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> As a matter of fact I couldn't +say which it was.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Besides, she destroyed my +faith as well, and so I went backward +until you came, old chap, and gave me a +new faith.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>he laughs</i>]. In sculpture?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He turns round by the square table +and comes to Adolf's right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>hesitating</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> And you believed in it?—in +that abstract, obsolete art from the childhood +of the world. Do you believe that +by means of pure form and three dimensions—no, +you don't really—that you +can produce an effect on the real spirit +of this age of ours, that you can create +illusions without color? Without color, +I say. Do you believe that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>tonelessly</i>]. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Nor do I.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> But why did you say you did?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You make me pity you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes, I am indeed to be pitied. +And now I'm bankrupt, absolutely—and +the worst of it is I haven't got her +any more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>with a few steps toward the +right</i>]. What good would she be to you? +She would be what God above was +to me before I became an atheist—a +subject on which I could lavish my reverence. +You keep your feeling of reverence +dark, and let something else grow +on top of it—a healthy contempt, for +instance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I can't live without some one +to reverence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Slave!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes round the table on the +right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> And without a woman to reverence, +to worship.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Oh, the deuce! Then you go +back to that God of yours—if you really +must have something on which you can +crucify yourself; but you call yourself an +atheist when you've got the superstitious +belief in women in your own blood; you +call yourself a free thinker when you +can't think freely about a lot of silly +women. Do you know what all this illusive +quality, this sphinx-like mystery, this +profundity in your wife's temperament +all really comes to? The whole thing is +sheer stupidity; why, the woman can't +distinguish between A.B. and bull's foot +for the life of her. And look here, it's +something shoddy in the mechanism, +that's where the fault lies. Outside it +looks like a fifty-guinea hunting watch, +open it and you find it's tuppenny-halfpenny +gun-metal. [<i>He comes up to +Adolf.</i>] Put her in trousers, draw a +mustache under her nose with a piece +of coal, and then listen to her in the same +state of mind, and then you'll be perfectly +convinced that it is quite a different +kettle of fish altogether—-a gramaphone +which reproduces, with rather less +volume, your words and other people's +words. Do you know how a woman is +constituted? Yes, of course you do. A +boy with the breasts of a mother, an immature +man, a precocious child whose +growth has been stunted, a chronically +anæmic creature that has a regular emission +of blood thirteen times in the year. +What can you do with a thing like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes—but—but then how can +I believe—that we are really on an +equality?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>moves away from him again +towards the right</i>]. Sheer hallucination! +The fascination of the petticoat. But it +is so; perhaps, in fact you have become +like each other, the leveling has taken +place. But I say. [<i>He takes out his +watch.</i>] We've been chatting for quite +long enough. Your wife's bound to be +here shortly. Wouldn't it be better to +leave off now, so that you can rest for a +little?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He comes nearer and holds out his +hand to say good-by. Adolf grips +his hand all the tighter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> NO, don't leave me. I haven't +got the pluck to be alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Only for a little while. Your +wife will be coming in a minute.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes, yes—she's coming. +[<i>Pause.</i>] Strange, isn't it? I long for +her and yet I'm frightened of her. She +caresses me, she is tender, but her kisses +have something in them which smothers +one, something which sucks, something +which stupefies. It is as though I were +the child at the circus whose face the +clown is making up in the dressing-room, +so that it can appear red-cheeked before +the public.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>leaning on the arm of Adolf's +chair</i>]. I'm sorry for you, old man. Although +I'm not a doctor I am in a position +to tell you that you are a dying man. +One only has to look at your last pictures +to be quite clear on the point.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> What do you say—what do +you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Your coloring is so watery, +so consumptive and thin, that the yellow +of the canvas shines through. It is just +as though your hollow ashen white cheeks +were looking out at me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Yes, and that's not only my +view. Haven't you read to-day's paper?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>he starts</i>]. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> It's before you on the table.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>he gropes after the paper without +having the courage to take it</i>]. Is +it in here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Read it, or shall I read it to +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>turns to leave</i>]. If you prefer +it, I'll go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> NO, no, no! I don't know how +it is—I think I am beginning to hate you, +but all the same I can't do without your +being near me. You have helped to drag +me out of the slough which I was in, and, +as luck would have it, I just managed to +work my way clear and then you knocked +me on the head and plunged me in again. +As long as I kept my secrets to myself +I still had some guts—now I'm empty. +There's a picture by an Italian master +that describes a torture scene. The entrails +are dragged out of a saint by means +of a windlass. The martyr lies there +and sees himself getting continually thinner +and thinner, but the roll on the windless +always gets perpetually fatter, and +so it seems to me that you get stronger +since you've taken me up and that you're +taking away now with you, as you go, my +innermost essence, the core of my character, +and there's nothing left of me but +an empty husk.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Oh, what fantastic notions; +besides, your wife is coming back with +your heart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No; no longer, after you have +burnt it for me. You have passed +through me, changing everything in your +track to ashes—my art, my love, my +hope, my faith.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>comes near to him again</i>]. +Were you so splendidly off before?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No, I wasn't, but the situation +might have been saved; now it's too late. +Murderer!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> We've wasted a little time. +Now we'll do some sowing in the ashes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I hate you! I curse you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> A healthy symptom. You've +still got some strength, and now I'll +screw up your machinery again. I say. +[<i>He goes behind the square table on the +left and comes in front of the sofa.</i>] +Will you listen to me and obey me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Do what you will with me, I'll +obey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Look at me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>looks him in the face</i>]. And +now you look at me again with that other +expression in those eyes of yours, which +draws me to you irresistibly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Now listen to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes, but speak of yourself. +Don't speak any more of me: it's as +though I were wounded, every movement +hurts me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Oh no, there isn't much to say +about me, don't you know. I'm a private +tutor in dead languages and a widower, +that's all. [<i>He goes in front of the +table.</i>] Hold my hand.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Adolf does so.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> What awful strength you must +have, it seems as though a fellow were +catching hold of an electric battery.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> And just think, I was once +quite as weak as you are. [<i>Sternly.</i>] +Get up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>gets up</i>]. I am like a child +without any bones, and my brain is +empty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Take a walk through the +room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I can't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You must; if you don't I'll +hit you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>stands up</i>]. What do you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I've told you—I'll hit you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>jumps back to the circular +table on the right, beside himself.</i>] You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>follows him</i>]. Bravo! That's +driven the blood to your head, and woken +up your self-respect. Now I'll give you +an electric shock. Where's your wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Where's my wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> At—a meeting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Certain?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Absolutely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> What kind of a meeting?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> An orphan association.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Did you part friends?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>hesitating</i>]. Not friends.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Enemies, then? What did +you say to make her angry?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You're terrible. I'm frightened +of you. How did you manage to +know that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I've just got three known +quantities, and by their help I work out +the unknown. What did you say to her, +old chap?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I said—only two words—but +two awful words. I regret them—I regret +them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You shouldn't do that. Well, +speak!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I said, "Old coquette."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> And what else?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I didn't say anything else.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Oh yes, you did; you've only +forgotten it. Perhaps because you +haven't got the pluck to remember it. +You've locked it up in a secret pigeonhole; +open it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I don't remember.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> But I know what it was—the +sense was roughly this: "You ought +to be ashamed of yourself to be always +flirting at your age. You're getting too +old to find any more admirers."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Did I say that—possibly? +How did you manage to know it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> On my way here I heard her +tell the story on the steamer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> To whom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>walks up and down on the +left</i>]. To four boys, whom she happened +to be with. She has a craze for pure +boys, just like—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> A perfectly innocent <i>penchant</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Quite as innocent as playing +brother and sister when one is father +and mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You saw her, then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Yes, of course; but you've +never seen her if you didn't see her then—I +mean, if you weren't present—and +that's the reason, don't you know, why a +husband can never know his wife. Have +you got her photograph?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>takes a photo out of his pocketbook. +Inquisitively</i>]. Here you are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>takes it</i>]. Were you present +when it was taken?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Just look at it? Is it like the +portrait you painted? No, the features +are the same, but the expression is different. +But you don't notice that, because +you insist on seeing in it the picture +of her which you've painted. Now +look at this picture as a painter, without +thinking of the original. What does it +represent? I can see nothing but a +tricked-out flirt, playing the decoy. Observe +the cynical twist in the mouth, +which you never managed to see. You +see that her look is seeking a man quite +different from you. Observe the dress +is <i>décolleté</i>, the coiffure titivated to the +last degree, the sleeves finished high up. +You see?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes, now I see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Be careful, my boy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Of what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>gives him back the portrait</i>]. +Of her revenge. Don't forget that by +saying she was no longer attractive to +men you wounded her in the one thing +which she took most seriously. If you'd +called her literary works twaddle she'd +have laughed, and pitied your bad taste, +but now—take it from me—if she hasn't +avenged herself already it's not her fault.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I must be clear on that point.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes over to Gustav, and sits +down in his previous place. Gustav +approaches him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Find out yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Find out myself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Investigate. I'll help you, +if you like.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. Good. Since +I've been condemned to death once—so +be it—sooner or later it's all the same +what's to happen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> One question first. Hasn't +your wife got just one weak point?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Not that I know of. [<i>Adolf +goes to the open door in the center</i>]. Yes. +You can hear the steamer in the Sound +now—she'll be here soon. And I must +go down to meet her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>holding him back</i>]. No, stay +here. Be rude to her. If she's got a +good conscience she'll let you have it so +hot and strong that you won't know +where you are. But if she feels guilty +she'll come and caress you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Are you so sure of it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Not absolutely. At times a +hare goes back in the tracks, but I'm not +going to let this one escape me. My +room is just here. [<i>Points to the door +on the right and goes behind Adolf's +chair.</i>] I'll keep this position, and be on +the look-out, while you play your game +here, and when you've played it to the end +we'll exchange parts. I'll go in the cage +and leave myself to the tender mercies +of the snake, and you can stand at the +keyhole. Afterwards we'll meet in the +park and compare notes. But pull yourself +together, old man, and if you show +weakness I'll knock on the floor twice +with a chair.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>getting up</i>]. Right. But don't +go away: I must know that you're in the +next room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You can trust me for that. +But be careful you aren't afraid when +you see later on how I can dissect a +human soul and lay the entrails here on +the table. It may seem a bit uncanny +to beginners, but if you've seen it done +once you don't regret it. One thing more, +don't say a word that you've met me, or +that you have made any acquaintance +during her absence—not a word. I'll +ferret out her weak point myself. Hush! +She's already up there in her room. She's +whistling—then she's in a temper. Now +stick to it. [<i>He points to the left.</i>] And +sit here on this chair, then she'll have to +sit there [<i>He points to the sofa on the +left.</i>], and I can keep you both in view +at the same time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> We've still got an hour before +dinner. There are no new visitors, for +there has been no bell to announce them. +We'll be alone together—more's the pity!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You seem pretty limp. Are +you unwell?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I'm all right; unless, you +know, I'm frightened of what's going to +happen. But I can't help its happening. +The stone rolls, but it was not the last +drop of water that made it roll, nor yet +the first—everything taken together +brought it about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Let it roll, then; it won't have +any peace until it does. Good-by, for +the time being.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit on the right. Adolf nods to +him, stands up for a short time, +looking at the photograph, tears it +to pieces, and throws the fragments +behind the circular table on the +right; he then sits down in his +previous place, nervously arranges +his tie, runs his fingers through his +hair, fumbles with the lapels of his +coat, etc. Thekla enters on the +left.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>frank, cheerful and engaging, +goes straight up to her husband and +kisses him</i>]. Good-day, little brother; +how have you been getting on?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stands on his left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>half overcome but jocularly resisting</i>]. +What mischief have you been +up to, for you to kiss me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Yes, let me just confess. +Something very naughty—I've spent an +awful lot of money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Did you have a good time, +then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Excellent. [<i>She goes to his +right.</i>] But not at the Congress. It was +as dull as ditch-water, don't you know. +But how has little brother been passing +the time, when his little dove had flown +away?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She looks around the room, as +though looking for somebody or +scenting something, and thus comes +behind the sofa on the left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Oh, the time seemed awfully +long.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Nobody to visit you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Not a soul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>looks him up and down and +sits down on the sofa</i>]. Who sat here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Here? No one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Strange! The sofa is as +warm as anything, and there's the mark +of an elbow in the cushion. Have you +had a lady visitor?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stands up.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Me? You're not serious?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>turns away from the square +table and comes to Adolf's right</i>]. How +he blushes! So the little brother wants +to mystify me a bit, does he? Well, let +him come here and confess what he's got +on his conscience to his little wife.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She draws him to her. Adolf lets +his head sink on her breast; laughing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You're a regular devil, do you +know that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No, I know myself so little.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Do you never think about +yourself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>looking in the air, while she +looks at him searchingly</i>]. About myself? +I only think about myself. I am +a shocking egoist, but how philosophical +you've become, my dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Put your hand on my forehead.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>playfully</i>]. Has he got bees +in his bonnet again? Shall I drive them +away? [<i>She kisses him on the forehead.</i>] +There, it's all right now? [<i>Pause, moving +away from him to the right.</i>] Now +let me hear what he's been doing to +amuse himself. Painted anything pretty?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No; I've given up painting!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What, you've given up painting!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes, but don't scold me about +it. How could I help it if I wasn't able +to paint any more?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What are you going to take +up then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I'm going to be a sculptor. +[<i>Thekla passes over in front of the square +table and in front of the sofa.</i>] Yes, but +don't blame me—just look at this figure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>unwraps the figure on the +table</i>]. Hallo, I say. Who's this meant +to be?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Guess!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>tenderly</i>]. Is it meant to be +his little wife? And he isn't ashamed of +it, is he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Hasn't he hit the mark?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> How can I tell?—the face +is lacking.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She drapes the figure.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Quite so—but all the rest? +Nice?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>taps him caressingly on yhe +cheek</i>]. Will he shut up? Otherwise +I'll kiss him.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes behind him; Adolf defending +himself.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Look out, look out, anybody +might come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>nestling close to him</i>]. What +do I care! I'm surely allowed to kiss +my own husband. That's only my legal +right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Quite so; but do you know the +people here in the hotel take the view +that we're not married because we kiss +each other so much, and our occasional +quarreling makes them all the more cocksure +about it, because lovers usually carry +on like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> But need there be any quarrels? +Can't he always be as sweet and +good as he is at present. Let him tell +me. Wouldn't he like it himself? +Wouldn't he like us to be happy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I should like it, but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>with a step to the right</i>]. +Who put it into his head not to paint any +more?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You're always scenting somebody +behind me and my thoughts. You're +jealous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I certainly am. I was always +afraid some one might estrange you +from me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You're afraid of that, you say, +though you know very well that there +isn't a woman living who can supplant +you—that I can't live without you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I wasn't frightened the least +bit of females. It was your friends I +was afraid of: they put all kinds of ideas +into your head.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>probing</i>]. So you were afraid? +What were you afraid of?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Some one has been here. +Who was it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Can't you stand my looking at +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Not in that way. You aren't +accustomed to look at me like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> How am I looking at you then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You are spying underneath +your eyelids.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Right through. Yes, I want +to know what it's like inside.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I don't mind. As you like. +I've nothing to hide, but—your very +manner of speaking has changed—you +employ expressions. [<i>Probing.</i>] You +philosophize. Eh? [<i>She goes toward him +in a menacing manner.</i>] Who has been +here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> My doctor—nobody else.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Your doctor! What doctor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> The doctor from Strömastad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What's his name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Sjöberg.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What did he say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Well—he said, among other +things—that I'm pretty near getting +epilepsy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>with a step to the right</i>]. +Among other things! What else did he +say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Oh, something extremely unpleasant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Let me hear it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> He forbade us to live together +as man and wife for some time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> There you are. I thought as +much. They want to separate us. I've +already noticed it for some time.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes round the circular table +toward the right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> There was nothing for you to +notice. There was never the slightest +incident of that description.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> How could it have been possible +for you to have seen something +which wasn't there if your fear hadn't +heated your imagination to so violent a +pitch that you saw what never existed? +As a matter of fact, what were you afraid +of? That I might borrow another's eye +so as to see you as you really were, not +as you appeared to me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Keep your imagination in +check, Adolf. Imagination is the beast +in the human soul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Where did you get this wisdom +from? From the pure youths on the +steamer, eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>without losing her self-possession</i>]. +Certainly—even youth can +teach one a great deal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You seem for once in a way, +to be awfully keen on youth?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>standing by the door in the +center</i>]. I have always been so, and +that's how it came about that I loved +you. Any objection?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Not at all. But I should very +much prefer to be the only one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>coming forward on his right, +and joking as though speaking to a child</i>]. +Let the little brother look here. I've got +such a large heart that there is room in it +for a great many, not only for him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> But little brother doesn't want +to know anything about the other brothers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Won't he just come here and +let himself be teased by his little woman, +because he's jealous—no, envious is the +right word.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Two knocks with a chair are heard +from the room on the right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No, I don't want to fool about, +I want to speak seriously.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>as though speaking to a child</i>]. +Good Lord! he wants to speak seriously. +Upon my word! Has the man become +serious for once in his life? [<i>Comes on +his left, takes hold of his head and kisses +him.</i>] Won't he laugh now a little?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Adolf laughs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> There, there!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>laughs involuntarily</i>]. You +damned witch, you! I really believe you +can bewitch people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>comes in front of the sofa</i>]. +He can see for himself, and that's why +he mustn't worry me, otherwise I shall +certainly bewitch him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>springs up</i>]. Thekla! Sit for +me a minute in profile, and I'll do the +face for your figure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> With pleasure.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She turns her profile toward him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>sits down, fixes her with his +eyes and acts as though he were modeling</i>]. +Now, don't think of me, think of +somebody else.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I'll think of my last conquest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> The pure youth?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Quite right. He had the +duckiest, sweetest little mustache, and +cheeks like cherries, so delicate and +soft, one could have bitten right into +them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>depressed</i>]. Just keep that +twist in your mouth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What twist?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> That cynical insolent twist +which I've never seen before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>makes a grimace</i>]. Like +that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Quite. [<i>He gets up.</i>] Do +you know how Bret Harte describes the +adulteress?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>laughs</i>]. No, I've never read +that Bret What-do-you-call-him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Oh! she's a pale woman who +never blushes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Never? Oh yes, she does; +oh yes, she does. Perhaps when she +meets her lover, even though her husband +and Mr. Bret didn't manage to see anything +of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Are you so certain about +it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>as before</i>]. Absolutely. If +the man isn't able to drive her very blood +to her head, how can he possibly enjoy +the pretty spectacle?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She passes by him toward the right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>raving</i>]. Thekla! Thekla!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Little fool!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>sternly</i>]. Thekla!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Let him call me his own dear +little sweetheart, and I'll get red all over +before him, shall I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>disarmed</i>]. I'm so angry with +you, you monster, that I should like to +bite you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>playing with him</i>]. Well, +come and bite me; come.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She holds out her arms towards +him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>takes her by the neck and kisses +her</i>]. Yes, my dear, I'll bite you so that +you die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>joking</i>]. Look out, somebody +might come.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes to the fireplace on the +right and leans on the chimneypiece.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Oh, what do I care if they do. +I don't care about anything in the whole +world so long as I have you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> And if you don't have me +any more?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>sinks down on the chair on the +left in front of the circular table</i>]. Then +I die!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> All right, you needn't be +frightened of that the least bit; I'm already +much too old, you see, for anybody +to like me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You haven't forgotten those +words of mine?—I take them back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Can you explain to me why +it is that you're so jealous, and at the +same time so sure of yourself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No, I can't explain it, but it +may be that the thought that another +man has possessed you, gnaws and consumes +me. It seems to me at times as +though our whole love were a figment of +the brain—a passion that had turned +into a formal matter of honor. I know +nothing which would be more intolerable +for me to bear, than for him to have the +satisfaction of making me unhappy. Ah, +I've never seen him, but the very thought +that there is such a man who watches in +secret for my unhappiness, who conjures +down on me the curse of heaven day by +day, who would laugh and gloat over my +fall—the very idea of the thing lies +like a nightmare on my breast, drives me +to you, holds me spellbound, cripples +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>goes behind the circular table +and comes on Adolf's right</i>]. Do you +think I should like to give him that satisfaction, +that I should like to make his +prophecy come true?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No, I won't believe that of +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Then if that's so, why aren't +you easy on the subject?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> It's your flirtations which keep +me in a chronic state of agitation. Why +do you go on playing that game?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> It's no game. I want to be +liked, that's all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Quite so; but only liked by +men.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Of course. Do you suggest +it would be possible for one of us women +to get herself liked by other women?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I say. [<i>Pause.</i>] Haven't you +heard recently—from him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Not for the last six months.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Do you never think of him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>after a pause, quickly and +tonelessly</i>]. No. [<i>With a step toward +the left.</i>] Since the death of the child +there is no longer any tie between us. +[<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> And you never see him in the +street?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No; he must have buried +himself somewhere on the west coast. +But why do you harp on that subject just +now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I don't know. When I was so +alone these last few days, it just occurred +to me what he must have felt like when +he was left stranded.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I believe you've got pangs +of conscience.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You think you're a thief, +don't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Pretty near.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> All right. You steal women +like you steal children or fowl. You regard +me to some extent like his real or +personal property. Much obliged.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No; I regard you as his wife, +and that's more than property: it can't +be made up in damages.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Oh yes, it can. If you happen +to hear one fine day that he has married +again, these whims and fancies of +yours will disappear. [<i>She comes over +to him.</i>] Haven't you made up for him +to me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Have I?—and did you use to +love him in those days?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>goes behind him to the fireplace +on the right</i>]. Of course I loved +him—certainly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> And afterwards?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I got tired of him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> And just think, if you get +tired of me in the same way?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> That will never be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> But suppose another man came +along with all the qualities that you want +in a man? Assume the hypothesis, +wouldn't you leave me in that case?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> If he riveted you to him so +strongly that you couldn't be parted +from him, then of course you'd give me +up?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No; I have never yet said +anything like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> But you can't love two people +at the same time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Oh yes. Why not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I can't understand it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Is anything then impossible +simply because you can't understand it? +All men are not made on the same lines, +you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>getting up a few steps to the +left</i>]. I am now beginning to understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No, really?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>sits down in his previous place +by the square table</i>]. No, really? +[<i>Pause, during which he appears to be +making an effort to remember something, +but without success.</i>] Thekla, do you +know that your frankness is beginning to +be positively agonizing? [<i>Thekla moves +away from him behind the square table +and goes behind the sofa on the left.</i>] +Haven't you told me, times out of number, +that frankness is the most beautiful +virtue you know, and that I must spend +all my time in acquiring it? But it +seems to me you take cover behind your +frankness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Those are the new tactics, +don't you see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. I don't know +how it is, but this place begins to feel uncanny. +If you don't mind, we'll travel +home this very night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What an idea you've got into +your head again. I've just arrived, and +I've no wish to travel off again.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She sits down on the sofa on the +left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> But if I want it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Nonsense! What do I care +what you want? Travel alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>seriously</i>]. I now order you +to travel with me by the next steamer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Order? What do you mean +by that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Do you forget that you're my +wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>getting up</i>]. Do you forget +that you're my husband?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>following her example</i>]. That's +just the difference between one sex and +the other.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> That's right, speak in that +tone—you have never loved me.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes past him to the right up +to the fireplace.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Really?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No, for loving means giving.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> For a man to love means giving, +for a woman to love means taking—and +I've given, given, given.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Oh, to be sure, you've given +a fine lot, haven't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>leans on the chimneypiece</i>]. +There has been a great deal besides that. +And even if you did give me everything, +I accepted it. What do you mean by +coming now and handing the bill for +your presents? If I did take them, I +proved to you by that very fact that I +loved you. [<i>She approaches him.</i>] A +girl only takes presents from her lover.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> From her lover, I agree. There +you spoke the truth. [<i>With a step to the +left.</i>] I was just your lover, but never +your husband.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> A man ought to be jolly +grateful when he's spared the necessity +of playing cover, but if you aren't satisfied +with the position you can have your +<i>congé</i>. I don't like a husband.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No, I noticed as much, for +when I remarked, some time back, that +you wanted to sneak away from me, and +get a set of your own, so as to be able +to deck yourself out with my feathers, +to scintillate with my jewels, I wanted to +remind you of your guilt. And then I +changed from your point of view into +that inconvenient creditor, whom a woman +would particularly prefer to keep at +a safe distance from one, and then you +would have liked to have canceled the +debt, and to avoid getting any more into +my debt; you ceased to pilfer my coffers +and transferred your attention to others. +I was your husband without having +wished it, and your hate began to arise; +but now I'm going to be your husband, +whether you want it or not. I can't be +your lover any more, that's certain!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He sits down in his previous place +on the right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>half joking, she moves away +behind the table and goes behind the +sofa</i>]. Don't talk such nonsense.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You be careful! It's a dangerous +game, to consider every one else +an ass and only oneself smart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Everybody does that more +or less.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> And I'm just beginning to suspect +that that husband of yours wasn't +such an ass after all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Good God! I really believe +you're beginning to have sympathy—for +him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes, almost.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Well, look here. Wouldn't +you like to make his acquaintance, so as +to pour out your heart to him if you +want to? What a charming picture! +But I, too, begin to feel myself drawn +to him somehow. I'm tired of being the +nurse of a baby like you. [<i>She goes a +few steps forward and passes by Adolf +on the right.</i>] He at any rate was a +man, even though he did make the mistake +of being my husband.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Hush, hush! But don't talk +so loud, we might be heard.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What does it matter, so long +as we're taken for man and wife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> So this is what it comes to +then? You are now beginning to be +keen both on manly men and pure boys.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> There are no limits to my +keenness, as you see. And my heart is +open to the whole world, great and small, +beautiful and ugly. I love the whole +world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>standing up</i>]. Do you know +what that means?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No, I don't know, I only +feel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> It means that old age has arrived.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Are you starting on that +again now? Take care!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> You take care!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What of?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Of this knife.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Goes towards her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>flippantly</i>]. Little brother +shouldn't play with such dangerous toys.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She passes by him behind the sofa.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I'm not playing any longer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>leaning on the arm of the +sofa</i>]. Really, he's serious, is he, quite +serious? Then I'll jolly well show you—that +you made a mistake. I mean—you'll +never see it yourself, you'll never +know it. The whole world will be up to +it, but you jolly well won't, you'll have +suspicions and surmises and you won't +enjoy a single hour of peace. You will +have the consciousness of being ridiculous +and of being deceived, but you'll never +have proofs in your hand, because a husband +never manages to get them. [<i>She +makes a few steps to the right in front +of him and toward him.</i>] That will teach +you to know me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>sits down in his previous place +by the table on the left</i>]. You hate me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No, I don't hate you, nor do +I think that I could ever get to hate you. +Simply because you're a child.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Listen to me! Just think of +the time when the storm broke over us. +[<i>Standing up.</i>] You lay there like a +new-born child and shrieked; you caught +hold of my knees and I had to kiss your +eyes to sleep. Then I was your nurse, +and I had to be careful that you didn't +go out into the street without doing your +hair. I had to send your boots to the +shoe-maker. I had to take care there +was something in the larder. I had to +sit by your side and hold your hand in +mine by the hour, for you were frightened, +frightened of the whole world, deserted +by your friends, crushed by public +opinion. I had to cheer you up till my +tongue stuck to my palate and my head +ached; I had to pose as a strong man, +and compel myself to believe in the future, +until at length I succeeded in +breathing life into you while you lay +there like the dead. Then it was I you +admired, then it was I who was the man; +not the athlete like the man you deserted, +but the man of psychic strength, the man +of magnetism, who transferred his moral +force into your enervated muscles and +filled your empty brain with new electricity. +And then I put you on your feet +again, got a small court for you, whom +I jockeyed into admiring you, as a sheer +matter of friendship to myself, and I +made you mistress over me and my home. +I painted you in my finest pictures, in +rose and azure on a ground of gold, and +there was no exhibition in which you +didn't have the place of honor. At one +moment you were called St. Cecelia, then +you were Mary Stuart, Karm Mansdotter, +Ebba Brahe, and so I succeeded in awakening +and stimulating your interests and +so I compelled the yelping rabble to look +at you with my own dazzled eyes. I impressed +your personality on them by sheer +force. I compelled them until you had +won their overwhelming sympathy—so +that at last you have the free <i>entrée</i>. +And when I had created you in this way +it was all up with my own strength—I +broke down, exhausted by the strain. +[<i>He sits down in his previous place. +Thekla turns toward the fireplace on the +right.</i>] I had lifted you up, but at the +same time I brought myself down; I fell +ill; and my illness began to bore you, just +because things were beginning to look a +bit rosy for you—and then it seemed +to me many times as though some secret +desire were driving you to get away +from your creditor and accomplice. Your +love became that of a superior sister, and +through want of a better part I fell into +the habit of the new rôle of the little +brother. Your tenderness remained the +same as ever, in fact it has rather increased, +but it is tinged with a grain of +pity which is counterbalanced by a strong +dose of contempt, and that will increase +until it becomes complete, even as my +genius is on the wane and your star is in +the ascendant. It seems, too, as though +your source were likely to dry up, when +I leave off feeding it, or, rather, as soon +as you show that you don't want to draw +your inspiration from me any longer. +And so we both go down, but you need +somebody you can put in your pocket, +somebody new, for you are weak and incapable +of carrying any moral burden +yourself. So I became the scapegoat to +be slaughtered alive, but all the same +we had become like twins in the course +of years, and when you cut through the +thread of my longing, you little thought +that you were throttling our own self. +You are a branch from my tree, and you +wanted to cut yourself free from your +parent stem before it had struck roots, +but you are unable to flourish on your +own, and the tree in its turn couldn't do +without its chief branch, and so both +perish.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Do you mean, by all that, +that you've written my books?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No; you say that so as to provoke +me into a lie. I don't express myself +so crudely as you, and I've just +spoken for five minutes on end simply +so as to reproduce all the nuances, +all the half-tones, all the transitions, +but your barrel organ has only one +key.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>walking up and down on the +right</i>]. Yes, yes; but the gist of the +whole thing is that you've written my +books.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> No, there's no gist. You can't +resolve a symphony into one key; you +can't translate a multifarious life into a +single cipher. I never said anything so +crass as that I'd written your books.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> But you meant it all the +same.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>furious</i>]. I never meant it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> But the result—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>wildly</i>]. There's no result if +one doesn't add. There is a quotient, a +long infinitesimal figure of a quotient, +but I didn't add.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You didn't, but I can.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I quite believe you, but I never +did.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> But you wanted to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>exhausted, shutting his eyes</i>]. +No, no, no—don't speak to me any more, +I'm getting convulsions—be quiet, go +away! You're flaying my brain with +your brutal pinchers—you're thrusting +your claws into my thoughts and tearing +them.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He loses consciousness, stares in +front of him and turns his thumbs +inwards.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>tenderly coming towards +him</i>]. What is it, dear? Are you ill? +[<i>Adolf beats around him. Thekla takes +her handkerchief, pours water on to it +out of the bottle on the table right of +the center door, and cools his forehead +with it.</i>] Adolf!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>he shakes his head</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Do you see now that you +were wrong?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. Yes, yes, yes—I +see it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> And you ask me to forgive +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Yes, yes, yes—I ask you to +forgive me; but don't talk right into my +brain any more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Now kiss my hand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> I'll kiss your hand, if only you +won't speak to me any more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> And now you'll go out and +get some fresh air before dinner.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf</span> [<i>getting up</i>]. Yes, that will do +me good, and afterwards we'll pack up +and go away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She moves away from him up to the +fireplace on the right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Why not? You must have +some reason.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> The simple reason that I've +arranged to be at the reception this +evening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> That's it, is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> That's it right enough. I've +promised to be there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Promised? You probably said +that you'd try to come; it doesn't prevent +you from explaining that you have given +up your intention.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No, I'm not like you: my +word is binding on me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> One's word can be binding +without one being obliged to respect every +casual thing one lets fall in conversation; +or did somebody make you promise that +you'd go? In that case, you can ask him +to release you because your husband is +ill.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No, I've no inclination to do +so. And, besides, you're not so ill that +you can't quite well come along too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Why must I always come along +too? Does it contribute to your greater +serenity?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I don't understand what you +mean.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> That's what you always say +when you know I mean something which +you don't like.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Re-a-lly? And why shouldn't +I like it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Adolf.</span> Stop! stop! Don't start all +over again—good-by for the present—I'll +be back soon; I hope that in the +meanwhile you'll have thought better of +it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit through the central door and +then toward the right. Thekla accompanies +him to the back of the +stage. Gustav enters, after a +pause, from the right.</i>]</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span></p> + +<p>[<i>Gustav goes straight up to the table +on the left and takes up a paper without +apparently seeing Thekla.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>starts, then controls herself</i>]. +You?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She comes forward.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> It's me—excuse me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>on his left</i>]. Where do you +come from?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I came by the highroad, but—I +won't stay on here after seeing +that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Oh, you stay—Well, it's a +long time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You're right, a very long +time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You've altered a great deal, +Gustav.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> But you, on the other hand, +my dear Thekla, are still quite as fascinating +as ever—almost younger, in fact. +Please forgive me. I wouldn't for anything +disturb your happiness by my presence. +If I'd known that you were staying +here I would never have—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Please—please, stay. It +may be that you find it painful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> It's all right as far as I'm +concerned. I only thought—that whatever +I said I should always have to run +the risk of wounding you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>passes in front of him toward +the right</i>]. Sit down for a moment, Gustav; +you don't wound me, because you +have the unusual gift—which always +distinguished you—of being subtle and +tactful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You're too kind; but how on +earth can one tell if—your husband +would regard me in the same light that +you do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Quite the contrary. Why, +he's just been expressing himself with +the utmost sympathy with regard to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Ah! Yes, everything dies +away, even the names which we cut on +the tree's bark—not even malice can persist +for long in these temperaments of +ours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> He's never entertained malice +against you—why, he doesn't know +you at all—and, so far as I'm concerned, +I always entertained the silent hope that +I would live to see the time in which +you would approach each other as friends—or +at least meet each other in my +presence, shake hands, and part.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> It was also my secret desire +to see the woman whom I loved more +than my life in really good hands, and, +as a matter of fact, I've only heard the +very best account of him, while I know +all his work as well. All the same, I +felt the need of pressing his hand before +I grew old, looking him in the face, and +asking him to preserve the treasure which +providence had entrusted to him, and at +the same time I wanted to extinguish the +hate which was burning inside me, quite +against my will, and I longed to find +peace of soul and resignation, so as to be +able to finish in quiet that dismal portion +of my life which is still left me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Your words come straight +from your heart; you have understood +me, Gustav—thanks.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She holds out her hand.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Ah, I'm a petty man. Too +insignificant to allow of your thriving in +my shadow. Your temperament, with +its thirst for freedom, could not be satisfied +by my monotonous life, the slavish +routine to which I was condemned, the +narrow circle in which I had to move. +I appreciate that, but you understand +well enough—you who are such an expert +psychologist—what a struggle it +must have cost me to acknowledge that +to myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> How noble, how great to acknowledge +one's weaknesses so frankly—it's +not all men who can bring themselves +to that point. [<i>She sighs.</i>] But +you are always an honest character, +straight and reliable—which I knew how +to respect,—but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I wasn't—not then, but suffering +purges, care ennobles and—and—I +have suffered.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>comes nearer to him</i>]. Poor +Gustav, can you forgive me, can you? +Tell me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Forgive? What? It is I who +have to ask you for forgiveness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>striking another key</i>]. I do +believe that we're both crying—though +we're neither of us chickens.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>softly sliding into another +tone</i>]. Chickens, indeed! I'm an old +man, but you—you're getting younger +every day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Do you mean it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> And how well you know how +to dress!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> It was you and no one else +who taught me that. Do you still remember +finding out my special colors?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> It was quite simple, don't +you remember? Come, I still remember +distinctly how angry you used to be with +me if I ever had anything else except +pink.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I angry with you? I was +never angry with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Oh yes, you were, when you +wanted to teach me how to think. Don't +you remember? And I wasn't able to +catch on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Not able to think, everybody +can think, and now you're developing a +quite extraordinary power of penetration—at +any rate in your writings.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>disagreeably affected, tries to +change the subject quickly</i>]. Yes, Gustav +dear, I was really awfully glad to see +you again, especially under circumstances +so unemotional.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Well, you can't say at any +rate that I was such a cantankerous cuss: +taking it all round, you had a pretty +quiet time of it with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Yes; if anything too quiet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Really? But I thought, don't +you see, that you wanted me to be quiet +and nothing else. Judging by your expressions +of opinion as a bride, I had to +come to that assumption.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> How could a woman know +then what she really wanted? Besides, +mother had always drilled into me to +make the best of myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Well, and that's why it is that +you're going as strong as possible. +There's such a lot always doing in artist +life—your husband isn't exactly a home-bird.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> But even so one can have +too much of a good thing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>suddenly changing his tone</i>]. +Why, I do believe you're still wearing my +earrings.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>embarrassed</i>]. Yes, why +shouldn't I? We're not enemies, you +know—and then I thought I would wear +them as a symbol that we're not enemies—besides, +you know that earrings like +this aren't to be had any more.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She takes one off.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Well, so far so good; but +what does your husband say on the +point?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Why should I ask him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You don't ask him? But +that's rubbing it in a bit too much—it +could quite well make him look ridiculous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>simply—in an undertone</i>]. +If it only weren't so pretty.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She has some trouble in adjusting +the earring.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>who has noticed it</i>]. Perhaps +you will allow me to help you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Oh, if you would be so kind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>presses it into the ear</i>]. +Little ear! I say, dear, supposing your +husband saw us now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Then there'd be a scene.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Is he jealous, then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I should think he is—rather!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Noise in the room on the right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>passes in front of her toward +the right</i>]. Whose room is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>stepping a little toward the +left</i>]. I don't know—tell me how you +are now, and what you're doing.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes to the table on the left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You tell me how you are. +[<i>He goes behind the square table on the +left, over to the sofa.—Thekla, embarrassed, +takes the cloth off the figure absent-mindedly.</i>] +No! who is that? Why—it's you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I don't think so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> But it looks like you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>cynically</i>]. You think so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>sits down on the sofa</i>]. It reminds +one of the anecdote: "How could +your Majesty say that?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>laughs loudly and sits down +opposite him on the settee</i>]. What foolish +ideas you do get into your head. +Have you got by any chance some new +yarns?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> No; but you must know some.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I don't get a chance any +more now of hearing anything which is +really funny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Is he as prudish as all that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Rather!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Never different?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> He's been so ill lately.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Both stand up.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Well, who told little brother +to walk into somebody else's wasps' nest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>laughs</i>]. Foolish fellow, you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Poor child! do you still remember +that once, shortly after our engagement, +we lived in this very room, +eh? But then it was furnished differently, +there was a secretary for instance, +here, by the pillar, and the bed [<i>With +delicacy.</i>] was here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Hush!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Look at me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> If you would like me to.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They keep their eyes looking into +each other's for a minute.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Do you think it is possible to +forget a thing which has made so deep +an impression on one's life?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> No; the power of impressions +is great, particularly when they are +the impressions of one's youth.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She turns toward the fireplace on +her right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Do you remember how we met +for the first time? You were such an +ethereal little thing, a little slate on +which your parents and governess had +scratched some wretched scrawl, which +I had to rub out afterwards, and then I +wrote a new text on it, according to what +I thought right, till it seemed to you that +the slate was filled with writing. [<i>He +follows her to the circular table on the +right.</i>] That's why, do you see, I +shouldn't like to be in your husband's +place—no, that's his business. [<i>Sits +down in front of the circular table.</i>] But +that's why meeting you has an especial +fascination for me. We hit it off together +so perfectly, and when I sit down +here and chat with you it's just as though +I were uncorking bottles of old wine +which I myself have bottled. The wine +which is served to me is my own, but it +has mellowed. And now that I intend +to marry again, I have made a very careful +choice of a young girl whom I can +train according to my own ideas. [<i>Getting +up.</i>] For woman is man's child, +don't you know; if she isn't his child, +then he becomes hers, and that means +that the world is turned upside down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You're going to marry +again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Yes. I'm going to try my +luck once more, but this time I'll jolly +well see that the double harness is more +reliable and shall know how to guard +against any bolting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>turns and goes over toward +him to the left</i>]. Is she pretty?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Yes, according to my taste, +but perhaps I'm too old, and strangely +enough—now that chance brings me +near to you again—I'm now beginning +to have grave doubts of the feasibility of +playing a game like that twice over.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I feel that my roots are too +firmly embedded in your soil, and the old +wounds break open. You're a dangerous +woman, Thekla.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Re-a-lly? My young husband +is emphatic that is just what I'm +not—that I can't make any more conquests.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> That means he's left off loving +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What he means by love lies +outside my line of country.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes behind the sofa on the left. +Gustav goes after her as far as the +table on the left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> You've played hide and seek +so long with each other that the "he" +can't catch the she, nor the she the "he," +don't you know. Of course it's just the +kind of thing one would expect. You +had to play the little innocent, and that +makes him quite tame. As a matter of +fact a change has its disadvantages—yes, +it has its disadvantages.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You reproach me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Not for a minute. What always +happens, happens with a certain +inevitability, and if this particular thing +hadn't happened something else would, +but this did happen, and here we are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You're a broad-minded man. +I've never yet met anybody with whom +I liked so much to have a good straight +talk as with you. You have so little +patience with all that moralizing and +preaching, and you make such small demands +on people, that one feels really +free in your presence. Do you know +I'm jealous of your future wife?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She comes forward and passes by +him toward the right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> And you know I'm jealous +of your husband.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> And now we must part! +Forever!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes past him till she approaches +the center door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Quite right, we must part—but +before that, we'll say good-by to +each other, won't we?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>uneasily</i>]. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>dogging her</i>]. Yes, we will; +yes, we will. We'll say good-by; we +will drown our memories in an ecstasy +which will be so violent that when we +wake up the past will have vanished from +our recollection forever. There are +ecstasies like that, you know. [<i>He puts +his arm around her waist.</i>] You're being +dragged down by a sick spirit, who's +infecting you with his own consumption. +I will breathe new life into you. I will +fertilize your genius, so that it will bloom +in the autumn like a rose in the spring, +I will—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Two lady visitors appear on the +right behind the central door.</i>]</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span></p> + +<p>[<i>The previous characters; the Two +Ladies.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The ladies appear surprised, point, +laugh, and exeunt on the left.</i>]</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">Scene V.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>disengaging herself</i>]. Who +was that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>casually, while he closes the +central door</i>]. Oh, some visitors who +were passing through.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Go away! I'm afraid of +you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes behind the sofa on the +left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You've robbed me of my +soul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>comes forward</i>]. And I give +you mine in exchange for it. Besides, +you haven't got any soul at all. It's +only an optical illusion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You've got a knack of being +rude in such a way that one can't be +angry with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> That's because you know very +well that I am designated for the place +of honor—tell me now when—and +where?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>coming toward him</i>]. No. +I can't hurt him by doing a thing like +that. I'm sure he still loves me, and +I don't want to wound him a second +time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> He doesn't love you. Do you +want to have proofs?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> How can you give me them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>takes up from the floor the +fragments of photograph behind the circular +table on the right</i>]. Here, look at +yourself!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He gives them to her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Oh, that is shameful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> There, you can see for yourself—well, +when and where?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> The false brute!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> When?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> He goes away to-night by +the eight-o'clock boat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> At nine. [<i>A noise in the +room on the right.</i>] Who's in there making +such a noise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>goes to the right at the keyhole</i>]. +Let's have a look—the fancy +table has been upset and there's a broken +water-bottle on the floor, that's all. Perhaps +some one has shut a dog up there. +[<i>He goes again toward her.</i>] Nine +o'clock, then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Right you are. I should +only like him to see the fun—such a +piece of deceit, and what's more, from a +man that's always preaching truthfulness, +who's always drilling into me to +speak the truth. But stop—how did +it all happen? He received me in almost +an unfriendly manner—didn't come to +the pier to meet me—then he let fall a +remark over the pure boy on the steam-boat, +which I pretended not to understand. +But how could he know anything +about it? Wait a moment. Then he began +to philosophize about women—then +you began to haunt his brain—then he +spoke about wanting to be a sculptor, +because sculpture was the art of the present +day—just like you used to thunder +in the old days.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> No, really?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Thekla moves away from Gustav +behind the sofa on the left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> "No, really?" Now I understand. +[<i>To Gustav.</i>] Now at last I +see perfectly well what a miserable +scoundrel you are. You've been with +him and have scratched his heart out of +his body. It's you—you who've been +sitting here on the sofa. It was you +who've been suggesting all these ideas +to him: that he was suffering from epilepsy, +that he should live a celibate life, +that he should pit himself against his +wife and try to play her master. How +long have you been here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Eight days.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You were the man, then, I +saw on the steamer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>frankly</i>]. It was I.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> And did you really think +that I'd fall in with your little game?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>firmly</i>]. You've already done +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Not yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>firmly</i>]. Yes, you have.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>comes forward</i>]. You've +stalked my lamb like a wolf. You came +here with a scoundrelly plan of smashing +up my happiness and you've been trying +to carry it through until I realize +what you were up to and put a spoke in +your precious wheel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>vigorously</i>]. That's not quite +accurate. The thing took quite another +course. That I should have wished in my +heart of hearts that things should go +badly with you is only natural. Yet I +was more or less convinced that it would +not be necessary for me to cut in actively; +because, I had far too much other business +to have time for intrigues. But just +now, when I was loafing about a bit, and +happened to run across you on the +steamer with your circle of young men, +I thought that the time had come to get +to slightly closer quarters with you two. +I came here and that lamb of yours threw +himself immediately into the wolf's arms. +I aroused his sympathy by methods of +reflex suggestion, into details of which, +as a matter of good form, I'd rather not +go. At first I experienced a certain pity +for him, because he was in the very condition +in which I had once found myself. +Then, as luck would have it, he began +unwittingly to probe about in my old +wound—you know what I mean—the +book—and the ass—then I was overwhelmed +by a desire to pluck him to +pieces and to mess up the fragments in +such a tangle that they could never be +put together again. Thanks to the conscientious +way in which you have cleared +the ground, I succeeded only too easily, +and then I had to deal with you. You +were the spring in the works that had to +be taken to pieces. And, that done, the +game was to listen for the smash-up. +When I came into this room I had no idea +what I was to say. I had a lot of plans +in my head, like a chess player, but the +character of the opening depended on +the moves you made; one move led to another, +chance was kind to me. I soon +had you on toast—and now you're in a +nice mess.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Nonsense.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Oh yes; what you'd have +prayed your stars to avoid has happened: +society, in the persons of two lady visitors—I +didn't commandeer their appearance +because intrigue is not in my +line—society, I say, has seen your pathetic +reconciliation with your first husband, +and the penitent way in which you +crawled back into his faithful arms. Isn't +that enough?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>she goes over to him toward +the right</i>]. Tell me—you who make +such a point of being so logical and so +intellectual—how does it come about +that you, who make such a point of your +maxim that everything which happens +happens as a matter of necessity, and +that all our actions are determined—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>corrects her</i>]. Determined +up to a certain extent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> It comes to the same thing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> How does it come about that +you, who are bound to regard me as an +innocent person, inasmuch as nature and +circumstances have driven me to act as +I did, could regard yourself as justified +in revenging yourself on me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Well, the same principle applies, +you see—that is to say, the principle +that my temperament and circumstances +drove me to revenge myself. +Isn't it a case of six of one and half-a-dozen +of the other? But do you know +why you've got the worst of it in this +struggle? [<i>Thekla looks contemptuous.</i>] +Why you and that husband of yours managed +to get downed? I'll tell you. Because +I was stronger than you, and +smarter. It was you, my dear, who was +a donkey—and he as well! So you see +that one isn't necessarily bound to be +quite an ass even though one doesn't +write any novels or paint any pictures. +Just remember that!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He turns away from her to the left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Haven't you got a grain of +feeling left?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Not a grain—that's why, +don't you know, I'm so good at thinking, +as you are perhaps able to see by the +slight proofs which I've given you, and +can play the practical man equally well, +and I've just given you something of a +sample of what I can do in that line.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He strides round the table and sofa +on the left and turns again to her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> And all this simply because +I wounded your vanity?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>on her left</i>]. Not that only, +but you be jolly careful in the future of +wounding other people's vanity—it's the +most sensitive part of a man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> What a vindictive wretch! +Ugh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> What a promiscuous wretch. +Ugh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Do you mean that's my temperament?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Do you mean that's my temperament?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>goes over toward him to the +left</i>]. You wouldn't like to forgive me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Certainly, I have forgiven +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Quite. Have I ever raised +my hand against you two in all these +years? No. But when I happened to +be here I favored you two with scarce +a look and the cleavage between you is +already there. Did I ever reproach you, +moralize, lecture? No. I joked a little +with your husband and the accumulated +dynamite in him just happened to go off, +but I, who am defending myself like this, +am the one who's really entitled to stand +here and complain. Thekla, have you +nothing to reproach yourself with?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Not the least bit—the +Christians say it's Providence that guides +our actions, others call it Fate, aren't +we quite guiltless?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> No doubt we are to a certain +extent. But an infinitesimal something +remains, and that contains the guilt, all +the same, and the creditors turn up sooner +or later! Men and women may be guiltless, +but they have to render an account. +Guiltless before Him in whom neither +of us believes any more, responsible to +themselves and to their fellow-men.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You've come, then, to warn +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I've come to demand back +what you stole from me, not what you +had as a present. You stole my honor, +and I could only win back mine by taking +yours—wasn't I right?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>after a pause, going over to +him on the right</i>]. Honor! Hm! And +are you satisfied now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. I am satisfied +now.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He presses the bell by the door L. +for the Waiter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>after another pause</i>]. And +now you're going to your bride, Gustav?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> I have none—and shall never +have one. I am not going home because +I have no home, and shall never have one.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Waiter comes in on the lef.</i>]</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">Scene VI.</span></p> + +<p>[<i>Previous characters—Waiter standing +back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Bring me the bill—I'm leaving +by the twelve-o'clock boat.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Waiter bows and exit left.</i>]</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">Scene VII.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Without a reconciliation?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>on her left</i>]. Reconciliation? +You play about with so many words +that they've quite lost their meaning. +We reconcile ourselves? Perhaps we are +to live in a trinity, are we? The way +for you to effect a reconciliation is to put +matters straight. You can't do that +alone. You have not only taken something, +but you have destroyed what you +took, and you can never put it back. +Would you be satisfied if I were to say to +you: "Forgive me because you mangled +my heart with your claws; forgive me +for the dishonor you brought upon me; +forgive me for being seven years on +end the laughing-stock of my pupils, +forgive me for freeing you from the control +of your parents; for releasing you +from the tyranny of ignorance and superstition; +for making you mistress over +my house; for giving you a position and +friends, I, the man who made you into a +woman out of the child you were? Forgive +me like I forgive you? Anyway, I +now regard my account with you as +squared. You go and settle up your accounts +with the other man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> Where is he? What have +you done with him? I've just got a suspicion—a—something +dreadful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Done with him? Do you still +love him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>goes over to him toward the +left</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> And a minute ago you loved +me? Is that really so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> It is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Do you know what you are, +then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> You despise me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> No, I pity you. It's a characteristic—I +don't say a defect, but certainly +a characteristic—that is very +fatal, by reason of its results. Poor +Thekla! I don't know—but I almost +think that I'm sorry for it, although I'm +quite innocent—like you. But anyway +it's perhaps all for the best that you've +now got to feel what I felt then. Do +you know where your husband is?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla.</span> I think I know now. [<i>She +points to the right.</i>] He's in your room +just here. He has heard everything, +seen everything, and you know they say +that he who looks upon his vampire +dies.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">Scene VIII.</span></p> + +<p>[<i>Adolf appears on the right, deadly +pale, a streak of blood on his left cheek, +a fixed expression in his eyes, white foam +on his mouth.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav</span> [<i>moves back</i>]. No, here he is—settle +with him now! See if he'll be as +generous to you as I was. Good-by.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He turns to the left, stops after a +few steps, and remains standing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thekla</span> [<i>goes toward Adolf with outstretched +arms</i>]. Adolf! [<i>Adolf sinks +down in his chair by the table on the left. +Thekla throws herself over him and +caresses him.</i>] Adolf! My darling child, +are you alive? Speak! Speak! Forgive +your wicked Thekla! Forgive me! Forgive +me! Forgive me! Little brother +must answer. Does he hear? My God, +he doesn't hear me! He's dead! Good +God! O my God! Help! Help us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gustav.</span> Quite true, she loves him as +well—poor creature!</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="AUTUMN_FIRES" id="AUTUMN_FIRES"></a>AUTUMN FIRES</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> + +<br /> + +<span class="smcap">By Gustav Wied<br /> + +<small>Translated by Benjamin F. Glazer.</small></span></h3> + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Benjamin F. Glazer.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + +<p> </p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Helms</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Krakau</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hansen</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Johnston</span>, <br /> +<span class="smcap">Hammer</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Buffe</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bolling</span>, +</td><td align='left'> <span class="ft50">}</span> [<i>Old Men, inmates of an old men's home</i>].</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Knut</span> [<i>An eighteen-year-old boy</i>].</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p> </p> + +<p>The professional and amateur stage rights are reserved by the translator, Mr. Benjamin +F. Glazer, Editorial Department, <i>The Press</i>, Philadelphia, Pa., to whom all +requests for permission to produce the play should be made.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>AUTUMN FIRES</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy in One Act</p> +<p class="alignright">By Gustav Wied</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>The room of Helms and Krakau in +the Old Men's Home. The time is afternoon +of a late September day. There is +a window at right looking out on the +street and another at left overlooking a +courtyard. There is a single door back +center which opens into a corridor on +both sides of which are similar doors in +long regular rows and at the end of which +is a stairway from the lower floors.</i></p> + +<p><i>An imaginary line divides the room +into two equal parts. Helms lives on +the street side and Krakau on the side +nearest the courtyard. In each division +there is a bed, chiffonier, a cupboard, a +table, a sofa and several chairs. The +stove is on Krakau's side, but by way +of compensation Helms has an upholstered +arm chair with a tall back. A +lamp hangs in the exact center of the +ceiling.</i></p> + +<p><i>Though there is a low screen which +can be used as partial partition between +the two divisions it is now folded and +standing against the back wall, and the +two tables are placed down center, end +to end, so that the place is for all present +purposes a single room.</i></p> + +<p><i>Helms' side is conspicuously ill kept +and in disorder; Krakau's side is spick +and span. On Helms' table there is a +vase filled with flowers and near it a +pair of gray woolen socks and a pair of +heavy mittens. There is also a photograph +of a boy in a polished nickel standing-frame.</i></p> + +<p><i>Helms, his spectacles on his nose, sits in +his great arm chair at the table and reads +a newspaper.</i></p> + +<p><i>Krakau sits next to him working out +a problem on a chess board.</i></p> + +<p><i>There is a short pause after the curtain +rises.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> There, I've done it again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>without looking up from his +paper</i>]. It's easy enough if one cheats.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Who cheats?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Well, year after year you +work out the same problem. Anybody +can do that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>rearranging the chessmen</i>]. +You can't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Just try another problem +once, then see how smart you are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> I'm quite satisfied with this +one. [<i>Moves a piece.</i>] Going to have +chocolate to-day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>contemptuously</i>]. Chocolate! +What for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> I thought on account of it +being your birthday—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Chocolate! That's a drink +for women. On my birthday I serve +wine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Hmmm! Wine, eh? Who's +coming?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Just one floor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Bolling too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> I suppose Buffe will bring him +along.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> And he won't have a word +to say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> He never has a word to say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> No, never.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Must you rattle those pieces +like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Can I help it if they are +heavy? [<i>Moves them more carefully.</i>] +You are always complaining about noise. +You only do it to remind me how well +you can hear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Your hearing has gotten a +good deal worse this year, hasn't it? +Hansen says so, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Hansen! A lot he knows! +[<i>Moves a piece.</i>] Is there anything about +you in the paper?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Nonsense! What should there +be?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Your eightieth birthday. +They put all kinds of foolishness in the +papers these days.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Didn't you hear what I said? +There is nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> I heard you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>regards him distrustfully over +his spectacles</i>]. Have you been reading +this paper while I was out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>loftily</i>]. I always read the +paper at night, you know. Newspaper +ought to be read by lamplight.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Boasting about your eyesight +again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Yes, I have excellent eyes. +[<i>Knocks solemnly on wood.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Did you read the "personal +notes"?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>indignantly</i>]. I told you I +haven't touched your old paper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> My son-in-law has been appointed +postal inspector.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Postal Inspector! That's +not a very high office. I suppose that is +why Knut hasn't turned up to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>resentfully</i>]. You haven't congratulated +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Because he's a postal inspector? +Hump! Congratulations. [<i>Pushes +aside the chessboard and rises.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>ironically</i>]. Thanks. Ah, if +my daughter had lived, she would be +proud.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>over his shoulder</i>]. If Mary's +gray cat had been a horse she could have +gone riding in the park.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>regarding him sharply over his +glasses</i>]. Do you know what I have +noticed, Krakau? [<i>Krakau does not answer.</i>] +I have noticed that whenever I +mention my son-in-law you get mad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> So?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>querulously</i>]. Yes you do. I +noticed it long ago. I don't see what +you've got against him. His son Knut is +your godson, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> We'll not talk about that, +Helms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> But I want to talk about it. +We have been friends for sixty years, +you and me, and—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>suddenly</i>]. Why didn't Knut +send regards to me in his birthday letter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Ha, you're jealous, that's what +you are. After all, it's my birthday, not +yours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> He never forgot to send regards +to <i>you</i> on <i>my</i> birthday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>beating his breast</i>]. Well, he's +my grandson and he's only your godson.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>incredulously</i>]. So—e?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Well, isn't he your godson?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Then why do you say so—e +like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>restraining himself</i>]. We'd +better not talk about that. I told you so +before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> But, damn it, I insist upon +talking about it. I want to know what +you mean.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> That's all right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> It isn't the first time you've +made the same stupid remark.... Do +you mean to insinuate that he isn't my +grandson? Is that what you're driving +at?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> For the third time, let's +drop the subject. [<i>Down in the courtyard +a hand organ begins to play.</i>] +There's the old organ grinder.... This +is Thursday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> You needn't tell me. I can +hear for myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> It's your turn to give him +something.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> I have no small change. Lay +it out for me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Remember you owe me for +the pack of matches.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> This will make seventeen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> [<i>Wraps a coin in a bit of +paper.</i>] I just want to make sure you've +got it right. You always argue about it +afterwards.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Hmm!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> [<i>Opens the window, throws +out the coin. The music plays more vigorously, +then suddenly stops.</i>] The porter +is chasing him away.... I suppose it's +because Larsen is sick downstairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>laughs angrily</i>]. Huh! You +were in an awful hurry about throwing +that money down, weren't you? Well, I +won't pay you for that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>hastily closing the window</i>]. +What kind of a way is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> You should have waited until +he'd played a few tunes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> How was I going to know +the porter would chase him away?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> That's your lookout. You +should have waited, then you would have +seen, I won't pay you back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> You're a damned old swindler, +Helms, and you always were. [<i>Turns +away and pulls out his pipe.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>sees the pipe</i>]. I can't bear +tobacco smoke to-day; my throat's too +bad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Let me tell you something; +I take no orders from you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> I'll complain to the superintendent. +Smoke hurts my throat, and you +know it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Huh! Won't you complain +to your postal clerk son-in-law, too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> No, but I'll tell Knut when +he comes. I don't see why I let you be +his godfather anyway. They wanted +some one else, but I said: "No, let's ask +Krakau; it will please him." I was a +fool.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> You asked me because you +knew I'd give him a handsome present. +Old miser that you are!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> But you've always been jealous +because I am his grandfather while +you are only his godfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> So—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>furious</i>]. Don't you dare to +smoke, do you hear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Who's smoking? [<i>Puts the +pipe back in his pocket.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> You needn't pretend you are +not jealous. Why, when my daughter +was alive and came to visit me here you +used to crawl over to your own side and +hide your envious face.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> She didn't come to see me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Well, you might at least have +been polite.... But you were always a +false friend. You never forgave me for +having a wife and family while you were +a lonely old bachelor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> So—e!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Don't make that nasty noise! +It's true; you know it's true. To this day +I remember how angry you were when +Andrea was born. For two years you +didn't set foot in my house. You said +you couldn't bear children about.... +But if she had been your own child—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Can't you talk about anything +else?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> And you wouldn't come to my +wife's funeral either. I shall never forgive +you that, Krakau,—the wife of your +best friend—and now you want to smoke +though you know I have a weak throat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Why will you talk like an +idiot? Don't you see the pipe is in my +pocket.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Well, you were going to +smoke, weren't you? And there's another +thing: It never occurred to you to congratulate +me when I told you my son-in-law +had been made a postal clerk.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>ironically</i>]. I do congratulate +you. But you needn't be so stuck up +about it. He's not the only postal inspector +in the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Who's stuck up? Not a bit +of it! I was thinking of Knut. He'll be +better provided for now his father has a +good position. Isn't it natural for me +to think of Knut's welfare? I am his +grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> So—o?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> There you go again with your +So—o! My daughter's son is my grandson. +Any fool knows that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Many a fool has believed he +was a daughter's father—and wasn't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> What's that? My daughter...? +You are an idiot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Do you remember what happened +to Adam Harbee?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> That has nothing to do with +the case. My wife was not that sort of a +woman. You'll concede that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Ye-es.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Well, then—but what can an +innocent old bachelor like you know of +such things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Are you going to talk stuck +up again, Helms?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Sure I will: I am too stuck +up to let an ignorant bachelor like you +teach me what's what about married life. +What do you know about it? Virgin!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>infuriated</i>]. I'll tell you +what I know about it. You are not Andrea's +father at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>laughs incredulously</i>]. Ain't +I? Well, if I may take the liberty to +ask, who is her father?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> That's all right. We'll not +talk about it any more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Oh yes, we will! Who is her +father, if I am not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> That's all right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Just empty talk, eh? I might +have known it. You just say such things +because I owe you seventeen pfennig.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Twenty-seven! I laid out +ten for cake last Friday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Twenty-seven, then. And +that's why you make up these stories to +annoy me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span>. Have it your way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>whimpering</i>]. Why don't you +speak out, then? If I am not Andrea's +father, who is? You can't leave it like +this. Who is the man you accuse, eh? +Was it Axel?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>scornfully</i>]. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Or Summensen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Do you suppose Caroline +would mix up with a couple of swine like +that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Of course I don't. It's you +that's been putting such things in my +head. You don't know what you are +talking about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> I know what I know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>pounds on the table</i>]. Who +was he then? Speak up or admit that +you are a filthy liar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>with sudden determination</i>]. +I was her father. Now you know it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>derisively</i>]. You!... Ha, ha, +ha!... You! God knows how you hit +on that idea. Do tell us about it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>savagely; he is on his own +side of the room now</i>]. Yes, I'll tell you +about it.... With pleasure, my dear +Helms!... I had made up my mind to +carry the secret with me to the grave ... +but I can't stand your overbearing ways +any more.... Now it comes out.... +And thank God for it.... You were a +devil to your wife and you have been a +devil to me, Helms, all the fifteen years +we have lived in this room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Ha, ha! So I've been a devil, +eh? The things one lives and learns!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Yes, a devil—a devil on +wheels. You whine and crow and fuss +and scold ... nothing suits you ... no +matter how hard I try ... and you are +mean and niggardly.... Every pfennig +must be pulled out of you like a tooth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> I don't throw my money in +the street.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Nobody throws his money in +the street, but you can't get along without +spending money, can you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> No, but you expected Caroline +to. Instead of money you gave her +compliments. Naturally she came to me +for help. She had to have pin money +and clothes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> And you gave her money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Of course I did.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Yes, what then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Of course it was humiliating +to her. She was very unhappy. I did +my best to console her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> And then Andrea was born.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. That was ... that +was powerful consolation, Krakau, I must +say.... But tell me how you are so sure +that Andrea was your daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Caroline told me herself. +Besides, didn't I know that she had lived +with you ten years before and never had +a child.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>pathetically</i>]. No. [<i>With a +flash of anger.</i>] Why didn't you tell me +this before?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>who is half sorry now</i>]. +Why should I have told you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>without heeding him; mumbles +half to himself, shaking his head</i>]. And +if she was your daughter, then Knut is +your grandson and you are also his godfather +... and to me he is nothing [<i>bows +his head</i>]. I am eighty years old to-day, +Krakau.... It is hard to be told such +a thing when you are eighty....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>has gone over to him, sympathetically +touching his shoulder</i>]. I'm +sorry, Helms. I wish I hadn't told you. +But you made me so angry it just popped +out.... But don't worry ... everything +will be just the same as before—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>shakes his head mournfully</i>]. +No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> But yes! I don't want him +all for myself. We can share him, can't +we?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Share him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Of course. Instead of being +your grandson Knut will be <i>our</i> grandson, +that's all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>sits up proudly</i>]. Knut is +nothing to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> But nobody knows that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> He is a perfect stranger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> But nobody knows it except +you and me—don't you see?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> You would throw it up to me +every day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Never! We should be equal +partners. And oh, the long talks we +could have about him!... Before it was +different ... you were so stuck up about +your grandson, I couldn't bear it any +longer.... But now we can both be +stuck up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>hotly</i>]. No.... Go over on +your own side. I don't want you here.... +I want to be alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Helms....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Get out of here, I say.... +And take your flowers with you. I accept +no presents from the like of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> The flowers—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Yes, take them away. And +take [<i>chokes over the word</i>] take Knut's +picture, too, and the stockings his father +sent.... I guess they're yours by right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>indignantly</i>]. I'll do nothing +of the kind. My name's not Carl +Helms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Well, take the flowers then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>takes the flowers</i>]. I can do +that, all right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> And see that you don't come +on my side again without asking permission.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>walks a few paces; turns +around</i>]. Hadn't I better straighten up +a bit before your guests come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> You leave my things alone ... +and mind your business.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Krakau goes with the flowers to his +own side.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> You've got the best of everything +anyhow. The stove is on your side +and the morning sun. Wouldn't you like +to take my arm chair too, and my pictures? +Don't mind me, you know.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Krakau does not answer. There is +a pause. A clock outside strikes +five.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> The clock's striking five.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Let it strike.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is another pause. A knock +on the door is heard. Neither answers +it. There is a louder knock.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> [<i>Impatiently.</i>] Why don't +you answer the door?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> I'm not in the humor for company.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> But some one is knocking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> What's that to me? [<i>There +is a third knock.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Obstinate old fool. [<i>Loudly.</i>] +Come in.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Hansen and Johnston enter. Behind +them in the hallway Buffe can +be seen with Bolling on his arm. +Farther back Hammer is seen.</i></p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Krakau rises, goes to the window +and stands there, looking gloomily +out into the courtyard.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen</span> [<i>leaving the door open</i>]. The +others are coming. Well, congratulations, +Helms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Thank you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> Many happy returns. +[<i>They shake hands.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>entering with Bolling</i>]. I'll +have to put him in your arm chair.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Right over there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> [<i>Helping Bolling to the chair.</i>] +Our heartiest congratulations, eh, Bolling?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> Hey?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>speaking close to his ear</i>]. I +say we congratulate Helms on his birthday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> No. It's nothing to boast +about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer</span> [<i>entering</i>]. Congratulations!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Now we're all here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Make yourselves comfortable. +[<i>They all take seats.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Bolling sits rigid in the arm chair +absently twirling his fingers.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Krakau, who has once or twice +shown the impulse to go over to +Helms, stirs uneasily but turns his +back to his window.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>A silence falls.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Suddenly Hansen begins to whistle, a +tuneless mournful strain.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston</span> [<i>whispering confidentially</i>]. +My dear Peter, one doesn't whistle at a +birthday party.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen</span> [<i>mocking him</i>]. My dear +Henry, mind your own affairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> You have the soul of a +greengrocer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> You have the manners of a +barber.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. Those boys are always +fighting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> But they can't live without +each other.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>to Hammer</i>]. Aren't you lonely +since Kruger died?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> It is lonesome sometimes, +but I have more room now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> My wrists are so full of +rheumatism I can hardly bend them any +more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> There's something the matter +with all of us. How is your throat, +Helms?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Pretty good. [<i>There is silence +again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Fine weather to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> Regular birthday weather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> On my birthday it always +rains.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen</span> [<i>points to the window</i>]. You +can see the sun from here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> I read in the papers about +your son-in-law's appointment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>shortly</i>]. Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> Yes, we must congratulate +you over again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Helms is the luckiest man +in the place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> Has your grandson been +here yet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> Of course he's coming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> I don't know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> Of course he'll come on +your birthday. He's a fine young fellow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Yes, indeed, Helms, you +should be proud of him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer</span> [<i>sees Knut's portrait</i>]. There +he is. [<i>All except Helms and Bolling +look at the picture.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Looks something like his +grandfather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> Yes, it's a striking resemblance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> The nose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> And the eyes—look at the +eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> We are looking at his grandson's +picture, Bolling.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Bolling stares indifferently. Helms +casts apprehensive glances at Krakau.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> Look at the gifts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> He's a lucky man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston</span> [<i>with a sigh</i>]. Ah yes, when +you have your family—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>showing the stockings</i>]. Helms +got some wonderful birthday presents, +Bolling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling</span> [<i>feeling them</i>]. Good wool.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen</span> [<i>suddenly</i>]. What is Krakau +doing over there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Yes, why don't you +stop skulking over there like a homeless +dog.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>to Hammer</i>]. They have quarreled.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> I guess so. [<i>To Hansen.</i>] +Have they had a fight?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> I don't know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> That's right, be sociable, +Krakau.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>irritably</i>]. Why don't you get +the wine, Krakau?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> How should I know—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>interrupts</i>]. You know it is +in the closet. [<i>Krakau takes bottle and +glasses from the cupboard.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer</span> [<i>delighted</i>]. Did you say +wine?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> Wine! Did you hear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> You might think Helms was +a postal inspector himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> More than that! He's a +millionaire in disguise. Krakau can tell +you—he has stockings full of good red +gold.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Krakau pours the wine. All watch +with eager eyes. The sun now +shines full in the room.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Hadn't we better push the +tables together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>petulantly</i>]. No. It's my +birthday. And we can do very well without +your table.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> There'd be more room with +both tables.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> We can't all sit around one +table.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> All right—push them together. +[<i>They do so.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> We must fix our tables this +way, too, Peter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> All right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>to Bolling</i>]. Come over to the +table; we are going to have wine.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Bolling stands up. They move his +chair to the table. He sits again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Why are you so quiet, Bolling?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> Everything there is to say +has been said.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> He's a smart man. [<i>Nods +admiringly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Ha, ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling</span> [<i>suddenly to Krakau</i>]. What's +that you are pouring?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Sherry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. I can't stand port +wine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Yes, but this is sherry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> Port wine is poison.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> But this is sherry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> Port wine is poison.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> Yes, Bolling; but this is sherry; +it won't hurt you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> Poison—port wine is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston</span> [<i>raising his glass.</i>] Many +happy returns!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> Many future birthdays!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Happy ones!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> Bolling, we are drinking to +Helms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> It isn't port wine, is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> No, indeed,—sherry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> I da'sn't drink port.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> It's a toast to Helms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> He's eighty years old to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> I am ninety-two. That's +nothing to be glad about.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>All except Bolling raise their glasses. +They utter cheery exclamations +and drink.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Thanks; thank you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling</span> [<i>raising his glass</i>]. Congratulations, +Helms. I hope you never +get as old as me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. That's no way to +talk, Bolling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> He's spoiling the whole +party.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>apologetically</i>]. Bolling's +tired of living.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> You're joking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> No; really he is. He wants +to die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> Nonsense! How can any +one <i>want</i> to die? It's against human nature.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>who has taken cigars from +the cupboard</i>]. Who wants to smoke?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen</span> [<i>with delight.</i>] Cigars too!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Krakau passes the cigars. Hansen, +Hammer and Johnston each take +one. The sun now shines on the +table and men.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> The sun is as red as wine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen</span> [<i>with a sigh</i>]. Autumn is +coming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> We've had Autumn weather +for two weeks past.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Unseasonable weather! I +hate it. [<i>During the entire scene he has +been ill at ease, casting frequent apprehensive +glances at Krakau, who avoids +his gaze.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> It isn't like it used to be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> No. When the calendar +said <i>Summer</i> we <i>had</i> Summer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling</span> [<i>apropos of nothing</i>]. I am +ninety-two.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>explaining apologetically</i>]. He +always says that. It's on his mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> I hear that the nurse downstairs +is engaged to be married.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Yes, with the doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> The hospital doctor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Yes; he's a sick man himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> Then it's a good thing she's +a nurse.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Every young woman ought to +be trained as a nurse.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>to Bolling</i>]. The nurse in the +hospital is going to marry the doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> I was married, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Fill the glasses, Krakau. +[<i>Krakau does.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> How is Larsen's brain fever +getting along?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> He must be worse. The +porter chased the organ grinder away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> I thought I heard the organ. +Is this Thursday?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Thursday, September twentieth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>testily</i>]. Don't show off, Krakau.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston</span> [<i>raises his glass</i>]. Here's +health. Splendid sherry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>to Buffe</i>]. Why aren't you +drinking?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> Thanks. I never take more +than one glass. This sunshine warms +you as much as wine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> I have the morning sun in +my window.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> So have I. It wakes me up +every morning. It's supposed to be +healthy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Krakau stole it from me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> You know very well that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Yes you did. And the stove, +too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> The stove—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Isn't the morning sun on your +side?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Yes, but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> And the stove, too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Didn't you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Nothing of the kind. You +live on the east side, and the morning +sun is healthiest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> We can change, for my part.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Do you hear that? Now he +wants to steal my view of the street, too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> What do you old friends +want to quarrel for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> And on your birthday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Who is quarreling?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> You may be well satisfied with +the afternoon sun, Helms. See how +beautifully it shines in the window. +Look at the sun, Bolling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> I've seen it before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>explaining with pride</i>]. Bolling +used to be a carpenter, you know. +He traveled all over the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> I have seen everything.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a rap at the door. Silence. +Krakau opens it, Knut enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut</span> [<i>to Krakau</i>]. Hello, Grandpop! +[<i>To Helms, shaking his hand.</i>] Congratulations, +grandfather. [<i>To the others.</i>] +Hello, everybody.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The old men nod their heads, delighted. +Buffe whispers to Bolling.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> It's Knut. The son of Helms' +daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> I had a son.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> I'm glad you came my—my +son [<i>glares at Krakau defiantly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> I can only stay a minute. +Have you heard about father's appointment?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> He's been bragging to us +about it, sonny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> And treated us to sherry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> Port wine is poison.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> And cigars.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> Not really!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Why don't you hang up your +cap?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> I must be off in a minute. +Back to school. I had only an hour's +leave, and it takes half an hour to ride +each way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> How old are you, my boy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> Seventeen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> It's sixty-one years since I +was that young. He's only seventeen, +Bolling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> I was seventeen—once. +Now I'm ninety-two.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> I am seventy-three.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> Let's add up the number of +years in this room.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> There's too many. It can't +be done.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut</span> [<i>with a laugh</i>]. Let's try. +[<i>Rapidly</i>] Mr. Bolling is 92 and grandfather +is 80; that's 172.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> There's quick counting for +you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> How old are you, Mr. Buffe?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> Seventy-eight.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> That's 250.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer</span> [<i>in wonderment</i>]. Two hundred +and fifty!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> And you, grandpop?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Seventy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> 320. And you, Mr. Hammer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> Seventy-three.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> 393.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> Think of that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> And Mr. Hansen?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>All the old people except Bolling +and Hansen, snigger. Hansen turns +away, offended.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> Don't you know how old you +are, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Of course, I know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> He's ashamed to tell you. +Ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> He's afraid. Ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Who's afraid? [<i>Reluctantly.</i>] +I'm only sixty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old People.</span> "Only a boy." +"Not dry behind the ears." "He'll +grow." "Poor child."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> That makes 453.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston</span> [<i>beats his chest</i>]. I am +seventy-five.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> That gives us 528 altogether.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> Five hundred and twenty-eight! +What a head the boy has on +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>to Bolling</i>]. All together we +are 528 years old.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> What does it matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> We'd be older still if there +weren't a boy among us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> Yes, Hansen spoils it by +being so young.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> You'll have to hurry, Hansen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> Yes, so you will.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> Why don't you take something +to make you grow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Oh, let me alone!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> Well, I must be going.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old People.</span> "What a pity." +"Can't you be late for once?" "The +teacher won't mind."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Knut.</span> I really must. Good-by, grandfather.... +Hope you live eighty years +more.... Good-by, grandpop.... Good-by, +everybody. Good luck! [<i>He exits.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> You can see him go from +here. [<i>Goes to the window.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Can you? [<i>Joins him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>All go to the window except Bolling, +who sits stiff and abstracted in his +chair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Open it. [<i>He helps Johnston +do so.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> There he goes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> He is waving to us. [<i>All +wave back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> What a fine lad!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Good-by. [<i>All shout good-by. +Bolling does not stir.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>turning away from the window, +with a sigh</i>]. He's gone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen</span> [<i>low</i>]. Yes, he's gone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> It's nice to have young +people around once in a while.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe</span> [<i>nods sadly</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> You have a fine young grandson, Helms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>with an uneasy glance at Krakau</i>]. +Yes, I can't complain of him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> It's good to have a family that +look after you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> It's good to have a family +at all. Many people haven't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> No. They die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>sharply</i>]. Close the window, +Krakau. There's a draught. [<i>Krakau +closes the window.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> Yes, the sun is down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Isn't it time we were going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> These <i>young</i> people should +be early to bed. [<i>Laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> It really is time to go. Thank +you, Helms. It was a nice party.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Going already? [<i>Glances uneasily +at Krakau.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> It's near supper time, you +know. We are going, Bolling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hammer.</span> Then we'll go too.... We +enjoyed your party, Helms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> The pleasure was mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> Good night, Helms. Next +time it's my party.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> When?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Johnston.</span> October 23rd.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hansen.</span> Good-by—and many thanks.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Not at all, not at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> Are you ready, Bolling?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> Hum! [<i>He rises.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buffe.</span> Good-by, everybody. [<i>To Bolling.</i>] +Say good-by.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bolling.</span> Good-by.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Krakau holds open the door. The +guests file out talking gayly. He +closes the door and their voices are +faintly heard outside.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Helms bustles about uneasily.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>on his own side</i>]. Well, it +went off very nicely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Yes, very well—very well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Want me to help you +straighten up?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> No—I can do it myself.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a pause. Krakau takes +back his chairs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> We'll want to move my table +back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>seizing one end of it</i>]. Well, +come on! Where are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>taking the other end hastily</i>]. +Coming, coming!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The table moved, there is another +pause. Each is on his own side. +Helms potters helplessly with the +bottles and glasses.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Need any help?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> You stand there doing nothing +and you ask me— [<i>The rest is a sullen +growl.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Krakau takes the glasses, puts them +on a tray and carries them across +to left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Where are you going with my +glasses?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>stops</i>]. I was going to wash +them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Well, don't forget whom they +belong to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Don't worry. [<i>Puts the +glasses on the wash stand.</i>] Shall I light +the lamp?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> You can't see in the dark, can +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>lighting the hanging lamp</i>]. +Knut behaved very nicely, didn't he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>moodily</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> He made everybody happy +with his high spirits.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Not me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>hastily changing the subject</i>]. +It's funny about old Bolling. How he's +changed in the last year! He never talks +any more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> When you get to be ninety-two +and not a relation in the world—[<i>His +voice breaks in self-pity.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>finished with the lamp, makes +a little solicitous gesture behind his +friend's back, but immediately busies himself +with putting things to right</i>]. Where +do you want these things to go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> On the chiffonier ... next to +the other.... Bolling is so old he feels +superfluous.... I am getting like that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>hastily</i>]. Where do these +stockings and things go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Next to the last drawer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> I guess you are all fixed now.... +There's nothing else? [<i>Turns from +the chiffonier, having closed the drawer, +and starts for his own side of the room.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>suddenly</i>]. It's a terrible +thing you've done to me, Krakau!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>in surprise</i>]. What now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>his voice trembling</i>]. You +have made my dead wife a strumpet and +my dead daughter a bastard. [<i>Krakau +bridles and turns to him with clenched +fists. Helms continues pitifully.</i>] And +you have robbed me in my old age of a +grandson ... all I have in the world. +[<i>Querulously musing.</i>] When men are +young they see red and kill for that sort +of thing ... yes ... they kill.... But +when you are old it's different.... I +can't even be very angry with you, Krakau.... +Isn't it queer?... It's all so +far back ... in the past ... impersonal +... and blurred like a half-remembered +dream.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>with contrition</i>]. I shouldn't +have told you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> You shouldn't have told me.... +No ... but you did ... and I +can't be angry with you.... I am an old +fool.... After all ... honor ... +fidelity ... marriage vows ... what do +they matter when there is nothing to do +but to sit and count the days until you +die?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>chokingly</i>]. Helms!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>with a flash of anger</i>]. But +Knut matters. He <i>is</i> my grandson ... +in spite of you.... You shan't take +him away from me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> I don't want to take him +away from you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Your blood ... perhaps ... +but <i>my grandson</i>—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>eagerly</i>]. Of course, he is, +Helms. We can share him between us. +Don't you see? He need never know. +No one need know ... just you and I.... +We can have him together ... +our own little secret.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>looks at him</i>]. Nobody else +will know?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>solemnly</i>]. Not a soul. I +swear it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Nobody?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Nobody.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>a faint smile dispels his +frown</i>]. And when we talk about Knut +you won't say "So-o" any more?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Never ... for hereafter he'll +be <i>our</i> Knut ... just as if you were his +father and I his mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>the idea pleases him, considers +it, then gives his assent like a child playing +a game</i>]. No, I'll be the mother. +And we can quarrel about him ... of +course, in a friendly way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Always friendly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> And just think—we shall +have something to talk about all the time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Especially at night ... +after supper ... under the lamp.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> And when we are in bed in +the dark and cannot sleep.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Always about our Knut.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Ha, ha.... Do you know, +Krakau, I think you should have told me +long ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> I was afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Afraid! Absurd. What was +there to be afraid about? You can see +for yourself that we are better friends +since you told me. [<i>Goes to the chiffonier +and gets the photograph.</i>] He does +look something like you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>magnanimously</i>]. Oh, no! +He's your wife's son all over.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>with equal magnanimity</i>]. He +looks a good deal like you just the same.... +Don't you want to borrow this for +a few days?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Why, you only got it this +morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Never mind. Take it.... +Saturday I'll get it back from you. Then +in a few days I'll lend it to you again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Thanks. [<i>Takes the photograph</i>]. +Can I borrow the paper, too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Sure, take it with you.... +And lend me your chess men, will you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>with animation</i>]. I'll get it +for you. [<i>Goes to his own chiffonier for +it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> We might as well move the +tables together. It's more comfortable +that way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Certainly. [<i>Comes down +with the chessboard and helps move the +tables.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Now you take my arm chair +and read your paper. I'll play over here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> I wouldn't think of taking +your chair.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> You do as you are told. [<i>Sits +on an ordinary chair.</i>] I can reach better +from one of these anyway.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Oh, well. [<i>Sits in the arm +chair and unfolds the newspaper. There +is a pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Why don't you light your +pipe?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Your throat—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> My throat is all right. Go on +and smoke.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>comfortably lights his pipe, +relaxes</i>]. Well, now we'll see how good +you are at working out problems.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> I don't think I can do it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>reading</i>]. Sure you can.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Look here. Would you check +with the bishop?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>studies the board</i>]. No ... +that loses you the queen.... Hum ... +you've sort of mixed it up.... Back +with that rook.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> How's that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Brilliant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Knut is back at school by this +time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> Yes, probably studying his +lessons.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> He's a boy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> None better.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Isn't it nice to talk about him +like this ... calm and friendly?... +You have no cause to be jealous any +more, ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> And you needn't be stuck up +any more, ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> No, ha, ha! There, I've muddled +it again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> No, you haven't.... Just +move here ... and here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>suddenly takes out his purse</i>]. +By the way, I owe you twenty-seven +pfennig.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> There's no hurry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Take it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> All right. [<i>He rises.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Where are you going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>at the chiffonier</i>]. We forgot +the flowers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms.</span> Oh, yes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau.</span> They smell so fragrant. +[<i>Puts them on the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>takes a flower and puts it in +Krakau's buttonhole</i>]. You must wear +one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>overcome</i>]. Thank you, +Helms, thank you. [<i>They bend over the +chessboard again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>rubs his hands with delight</i>]. +Now white moves.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Krakau</span> [<i>considering</i>]. White moves.... +I should say ... there ... that +pawn ... I'd sacrifice it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helms</span> [<i>picks it up with playful tenderness</i>]. +Poor little white pawn! [<i>Places it on the board.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They study the next move absorbedly +as the curtain falls.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="BROTHERS" id="BROTHERS"></a>BROTHERS</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Sardonic Comedy</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Lewis Beach</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Frank Shay.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Seth.<br />Lon.<br />Pa. +</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">Brothers</span> was first presented by the Provincetown Players, New York. +Applications for permission to produce <span class="smcap">Brothers</span> should be addressed to Frank +Shay, Four Christopher Street, New York City. No performance may take place +without his consent.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>BROTHERS</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Sardonic Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Lewis Beach</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A very small room in a tar-papered +shanty, reeking poverty. The +entrance is center-back,—a few boards +nailed together for a door. A similar +door, opening into the bedroom of the +shack, upstage right. Downstage left, a +broken window. Left center, a rusty +cooking stove. Above it, a series of +shelves holding a few dishes and cooking +utensils. Rough board table in the center +of the room. A kitchen chair at the right +of the table. A large wooden rocker +near the stove; rope and wire hold it together. +An arm-chair, below the bedroom +door is full of newspapers. Several +heterogeneous colored prints culled +from out-of-date newspapers and calendars +are tacked on the rain-stained walls. +When the entrance door is open we see a +cleared, sandy spot with a background of +scrub oaks and jack pines.</i></p> + +<p><i>The curtain rises on the late afternoon +of a spring day.</i></p> + +<p><i>A man of forty enters, leaving the bedroom +door open behind him. His small +head and childish face, on a tall, thin, and +extremely erect body, resemble those of a +species of putty-like rubber doll whose +head may be reshaped by the hand. He +wears a winter cap, blue flannel shirt, +well-worn trousers with suspenders, and +sneakers that were once white. Outside +shirt sleeves are rolled to the elbow; undershirt +sleeves are not. His shoes make +no noise; nevertheless, he comes on tiptoe, +his eyes fixed on the shelves. For a +moment he stops and glances into the +room he has just quitted. Satisfied, he +squats before the shelves. He hesitates, +then quickly lifts from a lower shelf an +inverted cooking vessel, and grasps a +small tin box which was hidden under it. +He inspects the box, trying to decide +whether he can pry open its lock.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p>[<i>The voice of an old, infirm man in the +adjoining room</i>]: Seth?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>alarmed; starts to return the +box to the shelf</i>]. Yes, Pa? [<i>His voice +is pitched high.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pa</span> [<i>querulously</i>]. What yuh doin'?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Jest settin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pa.</span> Don't yuh go near my tin box 'til +I'm dead.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Seth makes no answer.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pa.</span> D'yuh hear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I hear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pa.</span> I won't heve no one know nothin' +'bout my last will an' testament 'til I'm +dead.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a pause. Seth is regarding +the box intently.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pa.</span> Seth?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>peevishly</i>]. What d'yuh want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pa.</span> Bring me a drink.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> There ain't no more water in +the pail.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pa.</span> There's lots in the well this spring.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A pause. Seth continues his scrutiny +of the lock.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pa.</span> My throat's burnin' up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Well, maybe I kin find a drop. +[<i>Puts the box on the shelf and re-covers +it; in doing so makes a slight noise.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pa.</span> What's that noise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I'm gettin' yuh a drink!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Seth strolls to the stove, lifts the +top from the kettle, and looks inside. +He finds a tin cup and fills +it with water. Looking into the +kettle again, he sees there is little +water left. Why make a trip to +the pump necessary? Back into +the kettle goes some of the water. +Cup in hand, he moves toward the +bedroom. He reaches the door +when a sagging bellied man enters +from the yard. It is Lon, the +elder, shorter brother. His face +has become molded into an expressionless +stare, and his every +movement seems to be made with +an effort. An abused man, Lon, +the most ill-treated fellow in the +world. At least, so he is ever at +pains to have all understand. He +wears an old felt hat, cotton shirt, +badly patched trousers, suspenders +attached to the buttons of his +trousers with string, and shoes that +are almost soleless. His shirt, +stained with sweat, is opened at +the throat, revealing red flannel +underwear. When Seth sees Lon +he immediately closes the bedroom +door, silently turns the key in the +lock, and puts the key in his pocket. +For a moment the men stand looking +at each other, reminding one +of two roosters. Then Seth strolls +to the stove, pours the water into +the kettle, and planks himself down +in the rocker. Lon glances once +or twice at the bedroom door, but +moves not to it. He watches Seth +suspiciously. Finally he speaks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>in an expressionless drawl</i>]. I +hear Pa's dyin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yuh hear right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>with a motion of his head toward +the bedroom</i>]. Is he in there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon hesitates, then moves slowly toward +Pa's room. An idea strikes +Seth suddenly and he interrupts +Lon's progress.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> He's asleep.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon stops. Seth fills his pipe and +lights it. Lon takes his corncob +from his pocket and coughs meaningly. +Seth looks at Lon, sees +what he wants, but does not offer +him tobacco. Lon puts his pipe +back in his pocket, moves to the +table, sits, and sighs. He crosses +his right foot so Seth sees what +was once the sole of his shoe.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> What did yuh come here fur?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> 'Cause Pa's dyin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yuh never come when he was +about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Wall, no one ever seed yuh a +settin' here much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>fleeringly</i>]. Suppose yuh want +t' know what he's left yuh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Wall, ... it warn't comfortable +comin' three miles an' a quarter on a day +like this un.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>cackles</i>]. Sand's hot on yer +bare naked feet, ain't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>moves his feet</i>]. Yuh kin talk +about my holey boots. If I didn't heve no +mouths but my own t' feed I guess I +could buy new ones too. So there, Seth +Polland!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Jacobs offered yuh a job at the +fisheries same as me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> It's too fur t' hoof it twict a +day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yuh could sleep at the fisheries.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> I got t' look after my kids.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>grins</i>]. 'Tain't my fault yuh've +kids.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>threateningly</i>]. Don't yuh talk +'bout that! [<i>Pause.</i>] Yer woman had +t' leave yuh. [<i>Laughs.</i>] Yuh didn't give +her 'nough t' eat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>indifferently</i>]. She warn't no +good.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> She had t' leave yuh same as Ma +left Pa twenty years ago. Pa's dyin' fur +sure?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Who told yuh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Ma.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>greatly surprised</i>]. Ma? [<i>suspiciously.</i>] +What you got t' do with her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> I was passin' her place this +mornin'. Furst time I spoke t' her in a +year.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I ain't in two.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>in despair</i>]. Seth, she's cut +twenty cords o' wood t' sell.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>shaking his head</i>]. An' me +without a roof o' my own.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Me an' the kids wonder sometimes +where our next meal's comin' from.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>as though there were something +better in store for him</i>]. Oh, wall.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>pricks up his ears; coughs</i>]. If +I had this house I could work at the fisheries.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> But yuh ain't a goin' t' git it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>alarmed</i>]. Pa ain't gone an' left +it t' yuh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Pa deeded this t' Doc last winter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>amazed and angered</i>]. He did?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Doc said he could live here 'till +he died. But it's Doc's.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> It warn't right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Wall, he had t' pay fur his +physics some way. He told me yuh +wouldn't help him out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> And Pa told me yuh wouldn't. +An' yuh ain't got two kids t' feed. +[<i>Pause.</i>] There's Pa's old shanty down +the road. If I had that I could work at +the fisheries.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Seth's smile is his only response.</i>]</p> + +<p>Pa still owns it, don't he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> There warn't no call fur him t' +make his last will an' testament if he +don't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>brightens</i>]. He's left his last will +an' testament?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yes. I'm figgerin' on sellin' +the place t' Doc.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>emphatically</i>]. Pa ain't a left it +t' yuh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Doc'll want it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>forcefully</i>]. Where's the will an' +testament?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>with a gesture</i>]. In the tin box +under that there kittle.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon hurries to the shelves, picks up +the dish, and grasps the box.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>disappointed</i>]. It's locked.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> An' the key's round Pa's neck.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Let's git it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Pa won't give it t' us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Yuh said he was sleepin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I mean—he might wake up.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon inspects the box further.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> I think I could open it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Pa might ask t' see it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Hell. [<i>Puts the box back on +the shelf.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Doc'll want the place seein' as +how it's right next t' this un.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon is very nervous.</i>]</p> + +<p>Yuh might jest as wall go home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> No, yuh don't! Yuh can't make +me believe Pa's left it t' yuh. [<i>Takes off +his hat and mops his brow with his sleeve. +The top of his head is very bald.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Then what yuh gettin' so excited +'bout?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> I ain't excited. [<i>Puts his hat +on.</i>] It jest makes me mad 'cause yuh +say Pa's left it t' yuh, an' I know he +ain't. See? There warn't no call fur +him t' heve willed an' testamented it t' +yuh. Yuh've only yerself t' look after +an' I've two motherless kids.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Every one knows how much Pa +thought o' them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> It warn't my fault if they +thumbed their noses at him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yuh could o' basted 'em.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> They's like their Ma. Bastin' +never done her no good, God rest her +soul. All the same, Pa knowd how hard +it is fur me t' keep their bellies full. +Why, when we heve bread Alexander +never wants less than half the loaf! An' +all the work I gits t' do is what the city +folks who come t' the Beach in the summer +gives me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Huh! Jest as though I didn't +know 'bout yuh. Mr. Breckenridge told +me yuh wouldn't even contract t' chop +his wood fur him. An' there yuh sits all +winter long in that God-fursaken shanty +o' yourn, with trees all round yuh, an' yuh +won't put an ax t' one 'til yer own fires +dies out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> My back ain't never been strong. +Choppin' puts the kinks in it. Yuh kin +talk, yuh kin, Seth Polland, with a soft +job at the fisheries an' three squares a +day which yuh don't heve t' cook yourself. +Nothin' t' do all winter but walk +round them cottages an' see that no one +broke in. An' I'm the one who knows +how often yuh walk round them cottages. +I wish I hed yer snap. [<i>Sits.</i>] But I +ain't never had no luck.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>defending himself</i>]. I walk +round them cottages jest as often as I +need t' walk round them cottages.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Huh! I could tell a tale. Who +was it set with his feet in the oven last +winter, an' let Jack Tompkins break into +them cottages—<i>with keys</i>? [<i>Seth does +not answer.</i>] I could tell, I could. But +I ain't a goin' t' 'til they put me on the +witness-stand. [<i>Pause.</i>] But the furst +initials o' his name is Seth Polland.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>rising instantly</i>]. Lon Polland, +yuh ever tell an' I'll skin yuh alive.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Huh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Skin yuh like a pole-cat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Huh!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Seth turns, knocks the ashes from +his pipe into the stove. Lon rises; +takes Seth's chair and rocks vigorously.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yuh know what I got on yuh.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon's bravado is short-lived. He +rocks less strenuously.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yuh thought I didn't see yuh, +but I was right on the spot when yuh +set fire t' Mr. Rogers' bath-house.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon stops rocking.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Right behind a jack pine I was +an' seed yuh do it. An' yuh done it +'cause Mr. Rogers leaved Jessup paint +the house when yuh thought yuh ought +t' had the job.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>rises</i>]. I got t' be a gettin' home +a fore dark an' tend t' my stock.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Stock? [<i>Cackles. Pulls out +his tobacco-pouch and fills his pipe. Lon +shows his pipe again.</i>] A blind mare an' +a rooster. [<i>Drops pouch on the table as +he lights his pipe.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Rooster's dead. [<i>Moves stealthily +toward the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> What of?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Pip.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Starvation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> I would a killed him this long +time, but Victoria howled so when I +threatened. The fowl used t' wake me in +winter same as summer with his crowin'.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As Lon finishes his speech he reaches +for the pouch. But Seth's hand is +quicker. Seth moves to the rocker +and sits, dangling the pouch temptingly +by one finger. Lon puts his +pipe in his pocket.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Should think yuh'd want t' set +round 'til Pa dies, bein' as yer so sure +he's left yuh his property.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> He oughter a left it t' me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Well, I'm a tellin' yuh it's mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Yuh ain't got no right t' it. +[<i>Mops his head again.</i>] Pa begged yuh +t' come an' live with him, offered yuh +this fine roof over yer head, an' yuh was +too cussed even t' do that fur him. An' +now yuh expect he's made yuh his heir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I've treated him righter 'an +yuh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Yuh ain't.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Suddenly something seems to snap +in Seth's brain. He looks as +though he were in intense pain.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>gasping</i>]. Maybe he's left it t' +the two o' us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> <i>What?</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Maybe he's divided the place +a 'tween us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>shakes his head</i>]. Oh, he +wouldn't be so unhuman as that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> He would. He was always settin' +one agin' t' other.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> He used t' tell me I had t' figger +how t' git the best o' yuh or he'd baste +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> He was all the time whettin' us +on when we was kids.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> It was him showed me how t' +shake my old clock so it'd run fur five +minutes, an' then you'd swop that pail +yuh found fur it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Huh! He give me his gum t' +stop up the hole in that pail. Yuh +wouldn't know it leaked an' we could +laugh at yuh when you had t' carry water +in it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>pathetically</i>]. There warn't +never more 'an a pint left when I got t' +the house. An' Pa always hed such a +thirst.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> He'd like t' laugh at us in his +grave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> It jest tickled him t' raise hell a +'tween us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>rises</i>]. I'll take my oath he's +divided the old shanty an' the two acres +a 'tween us. [<i>Drops into his chair like +a condemned man.</i>] An' I figgered I'd +be sellin' them t' Doc t'morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Me an' the kids was a goin' t' +heve a garden on the cleared spot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> A garden in that sand?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Radishes an' rutabagas.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>persuasively; his manner becomes +kind</i>]. Lon, what yuh need is the +shanty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>droning</i>]. The shanty ain't no +good t' me without I hes the ground fur +it t' set on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yuh can tear it down an' use +the lumber t' mend yer old leaky one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> I want the shanty t' live in so I +kin git a soft job at the fisheries. [<i>Sympathetically.</i>] +You ought t' have a +shanty, Seth. Supposin' yuh was t' take +sick. They wouldn't keep yuh at the +fisheries then. Yuh take my place an' +give me Pa's.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>flashing into anger</i>]. I want +the two acres t' sell Doc. Yer old place +leaks like a net! [<i>Then, fearing he has +been too disparaging:</i>] But yuh could +make it real comfortable with the lumber +in—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>cutting in</i>]. I'll make a bargain. +I'll leave yuh a bed-stead an' a table if +yuh'll take my place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I don't want it! I want Pa's +old place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> An' I want it. I'm older 'an +yuh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I got the best claim t' it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Yuh ain't. We with three +mouths t' feed. Yer a swindler, yuh are. +Yuh always tried t' cheat me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> No one kin say that t' me. I'm +an honest man. But I'm a goin' 't heve +the two acres if I heve t' go t' law.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Wall, yuh ain't a goin' t' wreck +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>calmly; philosophically again</i>]. +Maybe yer right, Lon, when yuh say I +ought t' have a roof. I'll tell yuh what +I'll do, seein' as how yer my brother. +Yuh give me the ground an' the house on +it, an' I'll make yuh a present o' twenty-five +dollars.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> That's a lie! Yuh ain't got +twenty-five dollars t' yer name.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yuh think so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Every one in these parts knows +yuh owes Hawkins forty-three dollars an +twenty-nine cents he kin't collect. Give +me the house an' ground, an' I'll give yuh +my own house an' my note fur twenty-five +dollars.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yer note! I'm a goin' t' heve +Pa's old place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> An' I say that yuh or no swindler +like yuh is a goin' t' cheat me out o' +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I ain't a swindler, yuh wall-eyed +son—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>advancing</i>]. Take it back. Don't +yuh call me dissipated names.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I'll never take it back!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon doubles his fists and strikes; +but the blow lands in the air as +Seth grabs Lon. They fight furiously +and in dead earnest, though +there is no ethics to the struggle. +The rickety furniture trembles as +they advance and retreat. Seth is +quicker and lighter and less easily +winded; but Lon's bulk is not readily +moved, and, despite his "weak +back," he can still wield his arms. +It looks like a fight to the finish. +Isn't their future at stake? And +they are giving vent to a hatred +bred by their father. But suddenly +Pa's voice is heard, calling +wildly to Seth. The men do not +move: the voice seems to have paralyzed +their muscles. For a moment +they stand dazed. Then consciousness +comes to them: they realize +that the waiting is over. +They tear to the bedroom. A silence +follows. They must be fascinated +by the ghost of the old +man.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>in the bedroom; quietly</i>]. He's +gone, Lon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>in the bedroom</i>]. Yer right, +Seth.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Then their voices rise in dispute.</i>]</p> + +<p>Don't yuh take it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I've got it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> It's mine!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> It ain't!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Yuh kin't—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Shut up!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They rush into the kitchen, Seth +in advance, Lon close on his heels. +The younger throws the cooking-dish +to the floor, grabs the box, and +hurries to the table. As though +they were about to discover a +world's secret, they unlock the box, +each as near to it as possible, his +arms tense, fingers itching, ready +to ward off a blow or seize the +treasure. From the box, Seth +takes an old tobacco-pouch, a jack-knife, +a bit of heavy cord, a couple +of letters. These are contemptuously +thrown on the table. The +will lies at the bottom of the box. +Lon snatches it. Seth would take +it from him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Hold off! I'm jest a goin' t' +read it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Seth curbs his impatience. Lon +opens the document and reads, +slowly and haltingly.</i>]</p> + +<p>"I, Nathaniel Polland, o' Sandy Point +in the County o' Rhodes an' State o' +Michigan, bein' o' sound mind an' memory, +do make, publish, an' declare this t' +be my last Will an' Testament in manner +followin', viz—." What does "viz" mean?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Unable to bear the suspense longer, +Seth seizes the paper. He scans +it until his eyes catch the all-important +paragraph.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> "—Bequeath all my earthly +possessions to my wife, Jennie Polland."</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Their thunderbolt has descended. +They stand like two men suddenly +deprived of thought and motion. +Medusa's victims could not have +been more pitiable. They have +been hurled from their El Dorado, +which, at the worst, was to have +been their common property.</i></p> + +<p><i>Then Seth's voice comes to him, and +sufficient strength to drop into a +chair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> The damned old critter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> I'll be swaned.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>blazing out</i>]. That's gratitude.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> After all we done fur him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>pathetically</i>]. An' me a plannin' +these last five years on gettin' that +house an' ground.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> My kids are packin' our furniture +this afternoon, gettin' ready t' move +in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>with supreme disgust</i>]. Leavin' +it t' Ma.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Her who he ain't hardly spoke +t' in twenty years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Jest as though yuh an' me +wasn't alive.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> We'd a given him our last pipeful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> His own flesh an' blood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Why, he told me more 'an a +thousand times he hated Ma.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> She don't need it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> She's ready fur the grave-yard.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> She's that stingy, cuttin' an' +choppin' wood, sellin it t' the city folks. +We might a knowd.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> An' me a comin' all the three +miles an' a quarter t' see him a fore he +died.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I been settin' here two days a +waitin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> An' then t' treat us like that. +[<i>Wipes his mouth.</i>] Why, the hull place +ain't worth a damn!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> A cavin'-in shanty an' two +acres yuh couldn't grow weeds on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> A pile o' sand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>rising; bursting into fire like an +apparently dead rocket</i>]. She ain't a +goin' t' heve it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I won't let Ma heve it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> But how yuh goin' t' stop her? +'Twon't do no good t' tear up the will +an' testament. It's rec-ord-ed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Don't make no difference. She +ain't a goin' t' heve that place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>eagerly</i>]. But how yuh goin'—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I don't know. But I'm a goin' +t'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> It ain't hers by rights.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Didn't she leave him twenty +years ago?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Why, she ain't even expectin' it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> She'll never miss it if she don't +git it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>shaking his head</i>]. Me an' the +kids packed up, ready t' move in.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a silence. Lon deep in his +disappointment, Seth making his +brain work as it has never worked +before. And he is rewarded for +his diligence. A suggestion of his +sneering smile comes to his face.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Lon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>looks about, making sure that +only his brother is listening</i>]. Yuh 'member +what yuh done t' Rogers when he +didn't leave yuh paint his bath-house?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>his eyes open wide</i>]. Burn it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Sh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Oh, no!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yuh don't want Ma t' heve it, +does yuh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> When I burned that bath-house +I didn't sleep good fur a couple o' nights. +I dreamed o' the sheriff.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Nobody knows but me. An' +nobody'll know yuh an' me set fire t' Pa's +old place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Yuh swear yuh won't never tell?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>raising his right hand</i>]. I swear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Yuh won't never try an' make +out I done it next time we run agin each +other fur district school-inspector?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>raising his right hand</i>]. I swear. +'Cause if I kin't have Pa's old place, no +one kin.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Got matches?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Yes. An' Pa's kerosene-can's +got 'bout a pint in it. [<i>Takes the can +from the bottom shelf.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> I may as wall take these papers +along with me. [<i>Picks up the newspapers.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Seth moves to the table. Begins to +fill his pipe. Lon takes his corncob +from his pocket and coughs. +Seth looks at Lon, meditates, then +speaks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> Heve a smoke, Lon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Maybe I will.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon fills his pipe.—Seth strikes a +match, lights his own pipe first, +then hands the match to Lon.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> We're brothers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> The same flesh an' blood has got +t' treat each other right.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon starts to put Seth's tobacco-pouch +in his pocket, but Seth stops +him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> An' we wouldn't be treatin' +each other right if we let Pa's property +come into Ma's hands.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Seth carries the kerosene, Lon the +papers. They go out the back door +and disappear. Thus, in disgust +and rage, the brothers are united. +Then Seth's voice is heard.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth</span> [<i>in the yard</i>]. Wait a minute, +Lon.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Seth returns. He picks up Pa's +tobacco-pouch, knife and scissors, +glances toward the door to see that +Lon isn't watching, and sticks them +into his pocket.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>in the yard</i>]. What yuh doin', +Seth? [<i>Appears at the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seth.</span> I thought I left somethin' valuable. +But I ain't. [<i>He leaves.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon and Seth pass out of sight.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="MORGUE" id="MORGUE"></a>IN THE MORGUE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Sada Cowan</span></h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Stewart & Kidd Company.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">In The Morgue</span> is reprinted from "The Forum" by special permission of Miss +Sada Cowan. Application for right of performing <span class="smcap">In The Morgue</span> must be made +to Miss Sada Cowan, The Authors' League, New York City.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>IN THE MORGUE</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Sada Cowan</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Place:</span> <i>In the morgue of a foreign +city</i>.]</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A small almost empty room +with the rear wall of glass. Before this +glass black curtains are drawn. An old +man ... Caren ... sits at a low table, +well forward, sorting and arranging papers, +writing from time to time. A lamp +upon the table, is so shaded as to concentrate +the light and throws Caren's wicked +face into sharp relief. The room conveys +a feeling of unfriendliness, coldness and +gloom. Caren is old, so old he is somewhat +decrepit ... hard, shrill and tottering. +His features are sharp, his fingers +are as talons. He seems almost as +a vulture ... perhaps for hovering too +long among the unbeloved dead.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>calling to some one behind the +black curtain</i>]. What was the number +of that last one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helper</span> [<i>putting out his head</i>]. Thirteen. +[<i>He disappears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>writes and repeats</i>]. Thirteen....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices</span> [<i>are heard, rough and harsh, +from in back of the curtains</i>]. Shove +that stiff up! He's got more room than +what's coming to him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>calling, without rising</i>]. Who +is it you're moving?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> Thirteen. Any reason why he +should sprawl?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Not a bit. Shove him along.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The curtains part. There is a swift +vision of brilliant light within, and +bodies laid out upon tables of ice.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>a man, scarcely more than a +boy, over-wrought and hysterical, with +his hands pressed close to his throbbing +temples, bursts out</i>]. Oh.... Oh! Let +me stay here just a moment away from +that horror.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>glancing up from his writing +and smiles</i>]. You're all the same the +first day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Oh.... Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> That last one got you ... eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. So young ... so +young!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Must have been a good looker. +Much as you can tell the way his face is +banged up. I'll bet his own mother +wouldn't know him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>turning aside</i>]. Don't!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>titters</i>]. He ... he ... he! +Number thirteen...! I hope he ain't +superstitious.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> He has nothing more to fear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>with dread</i>]. There's no tellin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> He's dead.... [<i>Enviously.</i>] ... Dead!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>angry</i>]. Fool!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>watching through the glass at +the placid figure, enviously</i>]. Dead!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>exasperated</i>]. Bah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>suddenly has a hideous thought +and turns swiftly to Caren</i>]. You think +it was fair...? He went of his own +free will?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Eh...? What put that into +your head?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> No clothes ... naked!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> A lot of them do that when +they take the plunge. It ain't so easy to +identify them. It saves a lot of bother, +too. We stick 'em on the slabs a while +and then....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>shuddering</i>]. Don't! It makes +me cold ... cold! [<i>Again he parts the +curtains and looks through the glass.</i>] +He's so calm ... so still. I wonder if +he suffered first! [<i>With a clutch of +hatred in his voice.</i>] I wonder if—he +starved!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> That soft white kitten? Not +much. Did you get a squint at his hands? +He's never even tied his own tie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>laughs</i>]. And he's here!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>looking at Kraig</i>]. This is a +funny job for a kid like you to pick.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>turning away</i>]. I'm not as +young as I look. I've got three little +ones already. [<i>With deep anguish.</i>] +And another on the way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> It's a queer hang out for a kid +like you, just the same.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>hysterically, almost beside himself</i>]. +I tell you ... there's another on +the way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> What do you mean by that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Nothing! [<i>A pause, then bitterly.</i>] +Oh there's one joy down here. +You can burrow and hide like a rat from +it all. The damn carriages don't roll by +before your eyes. The women don't!... +Oh, those women, how I hate them. +Their silks, their jewels, their soft white +skins. Fed! Clothed! Housed!... +[<i>Clenching his fists.</i>] While Martha +starves! Oh, God! They drive by +laughing and I could choke them! Listen +what happened. [<i>He comes closer to +Caren and speaks fanatically.</i>] Yesterday +in the park I stood there ... shivering +... wondering! And all at once +the mad hate came into my heart and I +felt that I could kill. [<i>Caren looks +alarmed.</i>] And then.... Ha ... ha +... ha! Then.... The King.... +The King drove by. [<i>Laughing bitterly, +and with a great flourish.</i>] And off came +my hat! [<i>Making fun of himself.</i>] My +hat came off my head, Old Man, and I +bowed and cringed [<i>vehemently</i>] <span class="smcap">with +the hate in my heart</span>. I could have +torn the warm furs from his throat and +wrapped my fingers in their place [<i>his +hands clench spasmodically</i>]. Ugh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>thoroughly alarmed</i>]. Hush.... +Hush! You mustn't talk so of our +King. A nice young boy he is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Oh the hate ... the hate. +Perhaps it will leave me here in this hall +of the dead. [<i>Glancing about.</i>] It all +seems so level here. So level.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>with the first faint touch of +sympathy</i>]. You're right. Here's the +one spot on earth where you get fair +play. That's what I like. There ain't +no rich and there ain't no poor. And +there ain't no class nor nothing. Every +man gets a square deal here ... a square +deal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Perhaps that's worth dying +for—a square deal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Dying ... bah! Wait until +you've seen a few more of them slung on +the slabs. You'll lose your longing for +death. I'm an old man, but....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> If only I can see more of it. +If only I can bear it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> The pay's not bad?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> It would be bad at any price.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>shaking his finger childishly</i>]. +Tut ... tut! We're fair here ... fair. +There ain't no flowers ... he ... he +... he ... and there ain't no song [<i>he +chuckles</i>], but....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>with intense passion, pacing to +and fro, and never pausing, while he +speaks very rapidly</i>]. If only the living +could have what is spent on the dead. +All the waste ... the hateful waste. +Flowers wilting in dead hands. Stones +weighing down dead hearts. While living +bodies famish and living eyes burn +for the sight of beauty. Oh, I wonder +the dead don't scream out at our madness. +I wonder the graves don't burst +with the pain of it all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Have they shut me up with a +maniac? Have you gone stark out of +your mind?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a loud knocking on the +door, to the right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>opens it a crack and peeps out +cautiously</i>]. What do you want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> Let me in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Get away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice</span> [<i>piteously, clamoring</i>]. Let me +look once ... just once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>harshly</i>]. Got a pass?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> No ... no. Oh, let me in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>bangs the door shut</i>]. Get +away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice</span> [<i>brokenly</i>]. Let me look once +... just once. [<i>Caren opens the door a +crack.</i>] Are there any ... women?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Women? Of course, there's +women ... always women. What is it +you've craving? The sight of the beauties +or the smell of their stinking flesh? +Go on ... get out. This isn't a bawdy +house. [<i>He slams the door to and walks +away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> What is it he wants?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> A peep at the stiffs. Probably +looking for his girl. [<i>He passes +out of sight, behind the black curtain.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Oh! [<i>Cautiously he peeps +after Caren, then opens the door a crack +and calls in a whisper</i>]. Man!... You +can see the new ones through the panel +there. Lift up the curtain. There's two. +A blond haired girl and a boy. [<i>He +turns swiftly as the curtains part and +Caren reënters. Softly he shuts the door, +then stands watching into the hallway +through a glass partition.</i>] Poor soul!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>mumbles as he returns</i>]. +There's something queer about that last +young stiff.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Number thirteen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Yes, number thirteen. You +may have been right after all. Perhaps +it wasn't fair play to put him in the +river. There's some mystery ... something +wrong. [<i>Tittering.</i>] He ... he +... he! Not number thirteen for nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>watching outside</i>]. How do +you know there's anything wrong?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> That's telling, Sonny. [<i>With +deep meaning.</i>] But you get wise quick +... looking at the dead.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Ugh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> People are telephoning and +messengers are on the way. Pah ... +things like this are a nuisance. They +keep one late. What are you watching?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> That man who was here at the +door. He doesn't go away. I wonder +what keeps him here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Conscience! Scared to death +he'll find his girl. Afraid not to look for +her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> You mean?...</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Oh, there's just two things +drives people into the water. The men ... 'cause +they've got too little inside +'em.... The women....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>furious</i>]. Stop!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>alarmed, yet brazen ... +scratching his head</i>]. He ... he ... +he! Pretty clever little joke. He ... +he!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Kraig begins to pace the room, his +hands pressed to his temples.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> I must tell that to the boys +inside. [<i>He starts to go.</i>] Pretty clever +little joke!...</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>watching, excitedly</i>]. There's +something wrong with the fellow. I'd +better see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>pausing</i>]. You'd better shut +your eyes and see nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> He is staggering.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Let him stagger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> He may be ill. He may be—starving.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> He's come to a good place to +lose his appetite.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Oh, let me see what's wrong +with him ... please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> You go out that door and +you don't come back. [<i>A pause.</i>] I +guess you'll stay.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>looks his hatred</i>]. Just as you +say.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Outside the door there is a short, +sharp scream.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> Maria!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> He's fallen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> He'll get up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> I wonder what happened.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Perhaps he got a peep at the +new blonde. [<i>There is now a violent +banging on the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> He's here.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Caren opens the door cautiously a +crack.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice</span> [<i>outside</i>]. My woman!... +Maria!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> If you can identify her shut +up your racket. Go to the first door at +the right and make arrangements to take +her away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice</span> [<i>crushed and broken</i>]. Maria.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Shut up! Bottle the tears +until you get home. The first door to the +right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice</span> [<i>pleading</i>]. Cover her. For +the love of the Lord ... cover her. +Don't let her lie like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Ain't she covered enough to +suit you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> Cover her ... cover her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Afraid she'll catch cold? Go +on ... get out! [<i>He slams the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>walks to the black curtains and +parts them slightly</i>]. His woman ... +his <small>LOVE</small>. [<i>Sighing and glancing towards +the door</i>.] Poor devil!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> What's the matter with you, +Softy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Nothing. I was just thinking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Don't be a fool.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>again walking back and looking +at the woman</i>]. Couldn't we cover her +just a little? The sheet seems to have +slipped.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> And no harm done. Meat's +meat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>dreamily</i>]. Her hair would +cover her like a mantle. How soft +and white she is. And how happy she +seems. I wonder just when that look +came into her face. It surely wasn't there +when she plunged into the river.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>annoyed</i>]. You ought to be +nurse maid to a doll baby. What are you +anyway?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>indifferently</i>]. A dreamer ... +a creator ... a starver!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Well, you're the wrong sort for +in here. This is one place where you get +down to facts; truth. No lies, no frills, +no dreams. Dreams don't count [<i>banging +his fist for emphasis</i>]. Money don't +count. Power don't count ... beauty +don't count. Nothing counts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>hotly</i>]. Then it's not truth if +beauty and dreams don't count. That's +what we starved for, Martha and I.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>softening a little</i>]. Well, you +won't starve here. It's a fair place ... +fair. The King himself wouldn't be +treated no different than a beggar. The +man with brains and the man without.... +[<i>The curtains part and a helper +enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helper.</span> Some one wants to blink at +number thirteen. He's got two swell +dames with him. Can they go in?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> If their permit's all right. +Yes. Bring them in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helper.</span> They won't come in here. +They want to go in the private way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> I know there's some mystery +about number thirteen....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helper.</span> Yes, there is. He's a swell +... a big one. I shouldn't wonder if....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Go on. Get out. [<i>The helper +goes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Aren't you going to cover the +boy before you let them enter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> If they can't see him how are +they going to know him? He ain't a +tailor's dummy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> It all seems horrible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> I guess you'll never see a +second day at this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> Oh.... Oh, I don't know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> You think I'm going to tuck +on a few extras just because he's a swell. +[<i>Yelling.</i>] Don't I keep telling you 'til +there's not a breath left in my body, that +there ain't no class here? [<i>The helper +reënters and hears the last words. He +stands breathless.</i>] Tramp or gentleman, +they're all alike. Now get that into your +head and let it grow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helper</span> [<i>has been stammering trying to +speak</i>]. I oughtn't to tell. They'd kill +me if they knew. It's to be kept a secret, +but....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> What's the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helper.</span> Number thirteen.... [<i>Stammering.</i>] +He ... he....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Well, what about him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helper.</span> He ain't a loafer. He ain't +a tramp. He ain't even a gentleman. +He....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Who is he? Quick!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helper.</span> Our.... [<i>Exultantly.</i>] Our +King!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>open-mouthed, aghast</i>]. Our +... King!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>laughing triumphantly</i>]. Ha +... ha ... ha ... ha—<small>HERE</small>! [<i>He +clasps his hands together.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>excited</i>]. Are you mad, Boy, +mad? Our King! Oh!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Kraig laughs. Both men stare at +him horrified.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helper</span> [<i>to Caren</i>]. Ain't you got a +flag or something ... some little mark +of respect to cover his nibs?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>to Kraig</i>]. Run upstairs and +get that big silk flag that.... [<i>as Kraig +does not move</i>]. Go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>immovable, abruptly ceasing to +laugh</i>]. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren</span> [<i>threateningly</i>]. What do you +mean? No?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig</span> [<i>hysterically</i>]. This is one place +in the world where all are treated fair. +Dreams don't count. <span class="smcap">Power</span> don't count. +There's no rich, no poor....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caren.</span> Shut up and get that flag.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Kraig.</span> You're going to cover him +... but she.... Oh! [<i>Both men disappear +behind the curtains, cringing and +bowing to people within. Caren, with +his back to the curtains, does not realize +that he is alone.</i>] Even death can't level. +No ... not even death. [<i>For a second +he stares ahead of him piercingly into +space, standing taut and rigid. Then +commences to laugh in pure hysteria as</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>The Curtain Slowly Falls.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_DEATH_IN_FEVER_FLAT" id="A_DEATH_IN_FEVER_FLAT"></a>A DEATH IN FEVER FLAT</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By George W. Cronyn</span></h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1919, by Shadowland.<br /> +Copyright, 1920, by George W. Cronyn.<br /> +<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p>Reprinted from <i>Shadowland</i>, a magazine, by permission of the publishers and the +author. The professional and amateur stage rights of this play are strictly reserved +by the author. Applications for permission to produce this play should be made to +Frank Shay, Care Stewart & Kidd Company, Cincinnati, Ohio.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>In the great Far West, i. e., far from the "Movie" West</i>.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>proprietor of the Good Hope Roadhouse</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lon Purdy</span> [<i>about whom the play is concerned</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mizpah</span> [<i>his wife, called "Padie"</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Stage Driver.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Ghost of Harvey Mace.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Ghost of the Other Man.</span><br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Time</span> <i>is the present, about 11 <span class="smcap">P. M.</span></i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p>This is not a Bret Harte play, nor is it designed for W. S. Hart. And it should +be performed with none of that customary and specious braggadoccio of western plays.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>A DEATH IN FEVER FLAT</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By George W. Cronyn</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">The Scene</span> <i>is laid in the so-called +dining-room of one of those forlorn hostelries +of the great Plains, which goes by +the name of Mace's Good Hope Roadhouse, +a derisive title evidently intended +to signify the traveler's hope of early +escape from its desiccated hospitality.</i></p> + +<p><i>This room is sometimes reluctantly +frequented by a rare guest, usually a +passenger on his way via auto stage, to +some place else, whom delays en route +have reduced to this last extremity of +lodging for the night. The room is a +kind of lumber yard of disused cheap +hotel furniture.</i></p> + +<p><i>Nothing can be drearier.</i></p> + +<p><i>Most of this junk is heaped along the +left (stage) wall, and it has a settled look +of confusion which the processes of gradual +decay will, apparently, never disturb. +Tables tip crazily against the plaster of +the greasy wall. Chairs upturned on +these, project thin legs, like the bones of +desert places, toward a ceiling fantastically +stained. One table smaller than +the rest, sees occasional use, for it stands +somewhat out of the débris and has about +it three chairs reasonably intact. A pack +of cards and several dirty glasses adorn +the top.</i></p> + +<p><i>A stairway rises along the right wall, +beginning at the rear, and attaining to a +rickety landing, supported by a single +post of doubtful strength, to which is +affixed a glass lamp in a bracket. (Inasmuch +as the stairway is turned away from +the audience, those who ascend are completely +hidden until their heads top the +last riser.) At the right front, between +the landing and the proscenium, a door +(now shut) leads to the Bar, the one spot +of brightness in this lump, the shining +crack at its sill bespeaking the good cheer +beyond. And that crack is the only illumination +to this morgue of defunct appetites, +for the moonlight, which enters +by way of a small window at the right, +is rather an obscuration, inasmuch as it +heightens the barren mystery of the +room's entombing shadows.</i></p> + +<p><i>Double doors center of rear wall lead +to the outside. A window on either side +of the door.</i></p> + +<p><i>So much for the melancholy set.</i></p> + +<p><i>From the Bar percolates the lubricated +melodiousness of the few regular customers +who constitute the population of +Fever Flat, with the exception of three +worn-out women folks, two haggard +cows and three hundred or so variegated +dogs. The female element are to home, +the dogs, astray and astir, with lamentable +choruses.</i></p> + +<p><i>Sounds from the Bar, samples only.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Jolly Soul</span> [<i>hoarsely</i>]. Pitch into +her, boys! Tune up your gullets! [<i>With +quavering pathos.</i>] "She was born in old +Kentucky"—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Such</span> [<i>with peeve</i>]. Aw, shet +up, that's moldy! Giv's that Tennessee +warble, Hank!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice of Hank</span> [<i>rather rich and fine</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +"When your heart was mine, true love,<br /> +And your head lay on my breast,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You could make me believe</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By the falling of your arm</span><br /> +That the sun rose up in the west—"<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a momentary pause, filled +in by—</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice.</span> Y'oughter go courtin' with +that throat o' yourn, Hank.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mace</span> [<i>as if misanthrope</i>]. Aw, women—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>During the laugh that follows, an +auto horn blares outside and a +bright shaft is visible through the +rear windows.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices.</span> Stage's come! Stage's come!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There are sounds indicating the +rapid evacuation of the Bar, and a +moment later one of the rear doors +is jerked open and the Stage Driver +enters, dragging in two heavy suitcases +which he deposits near the +small table with appropriate +grunts, meanwhile encouraging the +passengers to enter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stage Driver.</span> Uh! perty lumpy bags—come +in, folks, come in! Seems like +you might be carryin' all your b'longings.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The two passengers enter; the man, +quickly, nervously, almost furtively; +the woman, with that weariness +which ignores everything except +its own condition.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Stage Driver.</span> Come in and set, lady; +don't be skeered. Looks a little spooky, +but Hank'll have a glim fer ye in two +shakes. [<i>Places a chair for her.</i>] Here, +I know you're plumb tuckered. Make +y'self t'home. [<i>Looking around at the +drear surroundings.</i>] 'S fer 's yer able.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Man.</span> I thought the stage went +through to Hollow Eye to-night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Driver.</span> Well, sir, she do, but this time +she don't. I've been havin' to run ten +miles on low already and I jest don't <i>dast</i> +take her across that thirty miles of sand +the way she is. She'll drink water like +a thusty hoss and like as not lay down +and die on us half way out. Then +where'd we be? No sir; you folks'll just +have to camp here at Fever Flat till I +kin do a tinkerin' job to-morrow mornin'. +So I'll step into the Bar and tell Hank +you're here. [<i>At the door to the Bar.</i>] +Hank'll do the best he kin fer ye. He's a +squ'ar man. Good-night to ye! [<i>Goes +out, leaving the door half open.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Man</span> [<i>briefly</i>]. Good-night. [<i>Looking +about.</i>] What a hole! Like somebody +died here and they'd gone off and +left it all stand just the way it was. +[<i>He goes to the open door at the rear and +stares at the naked moonlit buttes.</i>] Them +hills gits my goat. They're nothin' but +blitherin skeletons, and this bunch of +shacks they call Fever Flat looks like no +more'n a damn bone yard to me. [<i>Shutting +the door.</i>] Ugh! it's cold in here. +Feel like I was sittin' on my own grave's +edge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman</span> [<i>scarcely raising her head, +and speaking with no emotion, in a dead +dry voice.</i>] You didn't use to be so pernickety, +when you was punchin' on the +range, Lon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>waspishly</i>]. And you didn't use +to look like a hag, neither, Padie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>with a momentary flash</i>]. +Drink's poisoning your tongue, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>viciously</i>]. Who's drinking? +Cain't I take a thimbleful now'n then +without all this jawin'?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie.</span> You ain't takin' thimblefuls. +You're just soakin' it up. You'll be gettin' +snakes if you keep on. 'n then, +what'll <i>I</i> do? [<i>Resuming her air of +weary indifference.</i>] Not that I care so +much what you do with yourself—or +what becomes of me. Nothing matters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>petulent and aggrieved</i>]. There +you go, actin' abused. How 'bout <i>my</i> +rights 'n pleasures? Ain't got none, I +s'pose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie.</span> Oh, shut up, you make me sick.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Hank enters; a ruddy, vigorous, +young man, strangely out of place +among all this rubbish. He wears +a barkeeper's apron and speaks +cordially.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Howdyedo, folks! Howdye +do! Well, this is a kinda rough lay-out +fer you-all. Y'see the Stage is due here +at five, and stops fer grub, then makes +Hollow Eye by about nine, but here 'tis +... [<i>pulls out watch</i>] half an hour of +midnight an' I s'pose you ain't et, yet, eh? +[<i>Lights the glass lamp.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie.</span> Thanks. We've had sandwiches, +but maybe my husband'd like something.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>significantly</i>]. Wet.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Padie shrugs indifferently, and fixes +her hair. As she turns toward +Hank, the light for the first time +falls full on his face. Padie stares +fixedly at him, and half rises, with +a little cry.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>with a quick, startled glance at +Hank, speaks to her in a sharp, threatening +voice</i>]. Padie! Sit down! Are you +gittin' plumb loco drivin' out so late in +autymobiles? [<i>To Hank, apologetically.</i>] +You kinda flustered us, mister, cause you +have a little the look a friend of ourn +that died suddint. Mournful case. +Pardner o'mine. No, you're not much +like. He was tall, heavy-built and lighter +complected. Must a been consid'ble +older, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>almost in a whisper</i>]. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Older, I say. My wife's kinda +wrought up by this here little spell of +travelin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>sympathetically</i>]. Oh, you're +not used to it, eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>slowly and deliberately</i>]. We've +been at it—[<i>draws out the word into a +burden</i>] years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>impatiently</i>]. That is, off'n on, +m'dear. Only off'n on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>monotonously</i>]. All the time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>trying to be a little jocose +to break the oppressive atmosphere</i>]. +Should think you might hanker after yer +own nest, lady.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>rising rudely</i>]. Well, just keep +your thoughts!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>completely abashed</i>]. Yes, +ma'am. Your room is just at the top of +the landin'. I'll make ye a light. [<i>He +hustles away upstairs to cover his embarrassment, +taking the suitcases with him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>irritably</i>]. You're always tryin' +to belittle me in public. Is that any way +fer a wife to act? I wanta know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie.</span> What do you always lie so +fer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>with rising voice</i>]. That's my +business. I'll do as I damn please. And +don't you go too fer, crossin' me. I won't +stand it. Some day I'll up, an—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>contemptuously</i>]. Beat me. +That's all that's left to <i>you</i>, wife-beater.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon raises his hand as though to +strike her, but lets it fall as Hank +reappears on the landing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Excuse me, m'am. Have you +your own towels by you? Ourn is pretty +scaly. It's been so long since we've had +in women folks, at least, ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>moving toward the stair</i>]. +Thanks, we have some.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon to Padie as Hank, hidden from +audience, descends.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> You might as well be decent, +Padie. You ain't got none other but me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. Yes, you've took me +from 'em. We've been trapsin and trapsin +till I'm plumb sick. Yes, I'm—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Her voice breaks and she runs +blindly toward the stair, almost +into the arms of Hank, which further +increases his consternation.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>holding her off</i>]. Stidy, stidy. +There's the ladder, m'am. Can't I fetch +you somethin'? Toddy?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Padie shakes her head, runs up, and +slams her door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>to Lon in friendly fashion</i>]. +Women folks is cur'us, cur'us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>surlily</i>]. Take my advice and +keep free from 'em.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> It was a woman did fer my +brother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>with increased interest</i>]. Oh, +you've got a brother, eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>simply</i>]. Had.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Where is he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Down at Laguna Madre, Arizony.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>leaning forward and gripping the +edge of the table</i>]. Ranchin'?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Buried.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>haltingly</i>]. How—what were +you saying—about a woman?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> A woman done fer him. That's +what they said, I don't know. I didn't +git there fer a long time. There was a +mix-up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Well, well. That's strange.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>eagerly</i>]. I s'pose you heard +of it? It was in all the papers. It even +got as fer as Denver.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> No, I don't remember. But I've +read of similar cases.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> You've been to Arizony, I +s'pose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> No, not quite. I've been all +around them parts, but never Arizony.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> 'Tain't what you'd call a perty +country, but it's mighty satisfyin'. Too +blame cold up here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Why don't you move?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> I'm agoin' to, but you see my +brother had half interest in this here tavern +and there was some litigation about +it. Case's just finished. I been here +three years, ever since he went. But I'm +pullin' my stakes, you bet. I wouldn't +be <i>buried</i> here! Would you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>dryly</i>]. I'd rather not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> So she took me fer a friend +that'd croaked, eh? That's cur'us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Eh? What's that? Who?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Your wife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Oh, yes. Well, he was a good +ten years older. And dark-complected.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Thought you said he was light.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> Mebbe I did. Well, he mought +have been a trifle lighten'n you, but then, +size him up by the average, he was dark. +Let's fergit him. Bring us a bottle of +your best—and see that the glass is +clean.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> To be sure. [<i>Goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon sits with his head between his +hands, brooding. The voice of +Hank rises from the Bar, rendering +the second verse of the Tennessee +"warble."</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>in the Bar</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +There's many a girl can go all round about<br /> +And hear the small birds sing.<br /> +And many a girl that stays at home alone,<br /> +And rocks the cradle and spins.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As the song ends, the door at the +rear opens soundlessly, revealing +the vast expanse of moonlit plains +and desolate buttes. Lon shivers +and turns up his coat collar, finally +facing about to discover the cause +of the chill. Observing the open +door, he goes to it, closes and locks +it, the click of the key being distinctly +audible. He then returns +and sits as before, and again the +song comes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>in the Bar</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +There's many a star shall jangle in the west;<br /> +There's many a leaf below.<br /> +There's many a damn that will light upon the man<br /> +For treating a poor girl so.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Now both of the double doors swing +open, without sound. Lon shivers, +then, looking over his shoulder, suddenly +gets up, glares about him +and makes hastily for the door to +the Bar, where he almost collides +with Hank entering with bottle +and glass.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Here, mister, I was just comin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> What the devil's the matter with +your doors?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Them? Oh, the lock's no +good. When the wind's southwest they +fly right open. Got to be wedged with a +shingle.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes over to the doors, slams +them shut, picks up a shingle from +the floor and inserts firmly between +them.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>relieved</i>]. H'm. Well, that's all +right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Now it's blame cur'us the way +old places gits. You'll hear these floor +boards creak at times like as if som'un +was sneakin' over 'em b'ar-foot. Feller +told me onct it was made by contrapshun +and temper'ture. Mebbe so, but I reckon +[<i>knowingly</i>] there's more goes on around +than we give credit fer.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Hank dusts off the table and puts +bottle and glass down. Lon seizes +them eagerly and begins drinking.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>after a couple of glasses</i>]. You +mean—spirits?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Well, I dunno as you'd call +'em that. But it's a fact, there's more +liquor goes over the Bar than gits paid +for. 'Tain't <i>stole</i> either. It just <i>goes</i>.... +As old Pete Gunderson used to say, +"I'm a hell of a th'usty p'uson, and when +I croak I'll be a hell of a th'usty spirit." +I sometimes wonder—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Padie appears above, in a loose +dressing sack, her hair hanging in +a great wavy mass, and holding a +pitcher.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie.</span> Lon, please fetch some water.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>not moving</i>]. I don't dast go out +in the night. I've caught a kind of chill +from to-day's drive.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>going up the stairs</i>]. I'll fetch +it you, m'am.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She comes down to meet him and +the two are momentarily hidden +from the audience. Lon continues +to drink steadily, pouring down one +glass after another. Hank reappears, +treading with a certain gayety, +and goes out rear, whistling +the Tennessee "warble."</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>leaning out of the shadow of +the stairway toward her husband</i>]. Ain't +you comin' up soon, Lon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>ignoring the query</i>]. Scarcely no +resemblance whatever.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>with sudden fierceness</i>]. You +lie!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She ascends to the top of the landing. +Outside a pump cranks dismally.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>relenting a little</i>]. You'll be +seein' things, Lon, if you keep it up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>rising, perfectly steady</i>]. Mind +your business. Wish to hell I had a +newspaper.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes out through the door to +the Bar, while Padie runs a comb +reflectively through the exuberant +tumult of her dark hair. Hank +enters and stops a moment, half +blinded by the light, then looks up, +and shading his eyes, smiles.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>coyly</i>]. Is it the light in your +eyes, mister?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>daringly</i>]. It's you, ma'am, +are blinding them. [<i>He runs up the stairs +with the pitcher.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>bending toward him as he comes +near the top steps</i>]. You'd better reach +it to me. Maybe the landing'll not hold +the two of us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> It'll hold two that have such +light hearts as we.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie.</span> Ah, you don't know mine, +mister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>reaching her the pitcher</i>]. +There, the clumsy mut I am! Spillt the +cold water on your pretty bare toes!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As she leans over to take the pitcher +her hair falls suddenly about his +head, almost covering his face.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>drawing it back, with a deft +twirl</i>]. I've most smothered you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> I wouldn't want a sweeter +death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>looking down into his eyes</i>]. +Indeed, you're the picture of—an old +lover of mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> I'd rather be the picture of +the new.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He makes as if to clasp her about +the ankles, but she puts a hand on +his shoulder and pushes him gently +back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie.</span> You've been very kind to a +wanderer—from Arizony. Don't spoil +it. Good-night!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>turning about, mutters</i>]. Good-night.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He clatters loudly down the stairs +as Lon reënters, studying a newspaper. +Lon seats himself, still absorbed. +Hank favors him with a +glare of positive hatred.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>with a sneer</i>]. All fixed fer +the night, eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>grunting</i>]. G'night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Well, I hope you like this +country better'n Arizony.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>starting out of the news</i>]. The +hell you say!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Your wife was wishing herself +back there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>settling back to his paper and +bottle</i>]. Well, that's where she come +from. I don't. Women allus want what +they ain't got.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>retiring</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +When your heart was mine, true love,<br /> +And your head lay on my breast,<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes out, closing the door.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +You could make me believe by the falling of your arm<br /> +That the sun rose in the west.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>During the singing of this last +stanza, the double doors swing wide +as before, revealing a Figure standing +motionless outside, bathed in +moonlight. At the same time the +flame in the glass lamp begins to +flicker and wane. Lon holds the +paper closer to his face, finally almost +buries his nose in it, as if +conscious of the Presence, but stubbornly +resolved to ignore it. The +Figure moves, and as it crosses the +threshold the feeble light expires. +Lon, however, still sits, as if absorbed +in the newspaper, pretending +to sip from the glass. The +Figure in a thin mocking voice, +echoes the song of the other, standing +just behind Lon's chair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Figure</span> [<i>a thin echo</i>].</p> + +<p> +You could make me believe by the falling of your arm<br /> +That the sun rose up in the west.—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon picks up the soiled pack of +cards from the table and begins to +shuffle them mechanically, nor does +he once turn toward the apparition.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>in a hoarse whisper</i>]. And +what'r <i>you</i> doin' here?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Figure sits down nonchalantly +in a chair a little to one side of +Lon's. He is dressed in the western +style, that is, without style, +corduroys, heavy boots, flannel +shirt. In fact, he looks almost natural. +But there is a curious dark +mark in the center of his forehead—or +is it a round, dark hole?</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>petulantly</i>]. Cain't you stay +where you was put—with a heap o' +rocks on top o' ye?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Figure</span> [<i>thinly ironical</i>]. Can't +seem to give up the old habits, y' know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>thickly, tossing the pack down</i>]. +What's the hell's a corpse got to do with +habits?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>unmoved</i>]. You pore fool, +you'll <i>learn</i> when you come over.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>huskily</i>]. Come over—wh'ar?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>significantly</i>]. Where I am. +[<i>Sings in a quavering voice.</i>]</p> + +<p> +There's many a girl can go all round about<br /> +And hear the small birds sing—<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>snarling</i>]. Dry up on them +corpse tunes o' yourn, Harvey Mace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>leering</i>]. Oh, you recognize +me, eh? You recognize your old friend +and pardner, do you, Lon Purdy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>sullenly</i>]. I <i>knowed</i> you'd come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>triumphantly</i>]. And you believe +in me, eh? Well, that's good, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>stubbornly</i>]. Believe? Well! I +knowed I'd be seein' things soon, what +with the booze. I knowed it'd be the +snakes or you. Padie told me I'd be +seein' things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>maliciously</i>]. So you believe +in <i>her</i>, anyway. Well, how's Padie—and +the children?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> You know damn well we ain't +had none.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost.</span> What, no children! How unfortunate! +The house of love not to be +graced with fruit ... sterile, sterile.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>belligerently</i>]. Er you referrin' +to me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost.</span> To your spiritual union only, +my friend. Physically, I know, nothing +was wanting for a perfect match,—female +form divine to mate with big blond +beast. A race of superpeople!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> What the hell 'r' you gabbin'? +You allus had a lot of talky-talk. That's +what made a hit with Padie, before, before—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost.</span> Before the Other Man came +along and cut us both out. [<i>Sings.</i>]</p> + +<p> +And many a girl that stays at home alone<br /> +And rocks the cradle and spins.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>reflectively</i>]. Yes, I'm afraid +we both stood up pretty poorly alongside +him. I had the words, the brain, the +idea. I could charm her, tantalize her, +quicken her mind, arouse her imagination. +That's why I cut you out with her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>sneeringly</i>]. Gab!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost.</span> Yes, gab. It was one better +to her than mere brute—guts! You personified +strength. You didn't have nerves +enough to be afraid of anything. You +had endurance, cheek, deviltry, and a +kind of raw good nature. These took +with the gay, immature girl she was, +until I came. You had—Guts; I had—Gab.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> And the Other Feller?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost.</span> He had the Gift.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon.</span> What you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost.</span> He was a full man. His personality +exuded from him like incense. +It wrapped and enfolded you and warmed +you, and yet it was not a grain feminine, +but deeply, proudly masculine. You tolerated +him, I—loved him. I had the fine +passion for Padie, but when I first saw +the two of them together I <i>knew</i> she was +his, or [<i>with a keen, stern look at Lon</i>] +<i>ought</i> to be ... and she <i>has</i> been, always.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>jumping to his feet, and knocking +over his chair</i>]. You lie like hell! +She's mine! She's been mine all these +three years! I won her and I own her! +What little of love she ever had fer you +or him is buried down in Laguna Madre +with the bones of both of ye! And all +hell can't take her from me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>rising tall and pale</i>]. <i>He</i> kin, +and he's done it! You <i>thought</i> you'd got +her. But he's had her, or rather, she's +had <i>him</i> in her heart ever since they +took the rope from his neck and pronounced +him legally dead, and justice +vindicated, and laid him away in the +desert. All that time since, he's belonged +to her. When you laid by her side nights, +it was <i>his</i> arm she felt about her waist, +not yours; his breath was on her cheek, +and his heart was beating against hers. +Oh you poor, poor fool!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>throwing his glass straight at the +ghost</i>]. You lyin' pup!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>bursting into a gale of eerie +laughter</i>]. Ha! ha! ha! you <i>poor</i> fool! +<i>Now</i> you believe in me!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon whips out his revolver and +aims at the ghost, then slowly returns +it to the holster, as he realizes +the futility of the move.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost.</span> Go on, my boy! Let's have +another one here. [<i>He points to the +dark hole in his forehead.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon, wiping his own face with the +back of his hand, and shuddering, +slumps down into his seat and +stares vacantly at the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost.</span> Another one, just like the last—for +your friend and pardner. [<i>He +stresses the words with intense irony.</i>] +Do you remember the <i>last</i> time you pulled +that trick? What a foxy one it was! +How astutely planned! <i>Planned</i>, my +friend. I remember when we two went +up the canyon together, just such a shining +night as this, I asked you why you +had borrowed—the Other Man's horse, +and you said, yours was a little lame. +Oh! excellent dissembler! Most crafty +of liars! You <i>stole</i> that horse. You +stole that horse to put a rope around the +Other Man's neck! You knew the pinto +was shod different from any pony in +those parts. You knew where they'd +track him to, when they found the job +you'd done. Then we sat down to smokes +and cards. And I remember the curious +glitter in your eyes. I was dealing. +[<i>The Ghost shuffles the cards on the table, +then lays down the pack in front of +Lon.</i>] Cut!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon mechanically obeys.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>dealing</i>]. And after several +hands, you brought up the subject of +Padie. And I told you I was out of +the race—and that you'd better get out +too, because the best man already had +her. And then—and then I sensed you +were going to draw, and when I had my +gun out, it was empty. Clever boy! +You had it fixed right. And so you +plugged me square. And the moon and +stars went out for me and I dropped into +the black gulf.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon, throwing his hand down, buries +his face in his hands, groaning.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>pitilessly</i>]. You left me with +my face to the stars for the coyotes to +find. Then, very coolly, you turned the +Other Man's horse toward home and sent +him off cracking. And you jumped to +a piñon log that led off to a ledge of lava +where your footprints wouldn't show. +And you turned up in half an hour with +the boys in town. Then you inquired casually +where the Other Man was. You +<i>knew</i>, you devil! You knew they'd never +get an alibi from him for that night, +'cause—Padie was with him. Padie had +her dear arms about his neck while you, +clever dog! were out fixing to put a rope +there. And you done it, too! <i>Won</i> her? +Yes, you did—like hell! After the trial +was all over, and the dead buried, me +and him, you passed a dirty whisper +around town about her, and then married +her, to save her good name. That's how +you won her.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is an immense silence, broken +only by the heavy breathing of +Lon, which comes in rattling +gasps.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost</span> [<i>sings</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +There's many a star shall jangle in the west,<br /> +There's many a leaf below,<br /> +There's many a damn that will light upon the man<br /> +For treating a poor girl so.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ghost.</span> But I ain't forgot all you done +for me. Neither has the Other Man, +[<i>with deep solemnity</i>] and he's come—to +settle too—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>staggering up</i>]. No! I don't +believe in you! You're nothin' at all! +There ain't no—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lon sways and catches at the table; +as he swings around, the figure of +Another stands outside the door, a +tall figure with something white +twisted about its neck. Lon with a +cry of horror puts out his arms as +if to ward off the apparition and +backs slowly toward the left wall.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Ghost</span> [<i>coming toward him</i>]. +Murderer! betrayer! We've come to settle!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lon</span> [<i>screaming</i>]. No! no! no! I +don't believe—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He falls, and the pile of rubbishy +furniture topples over on to him +with a crash. The two apparitions +vanish. The door to the bar is +flung open and Hank leaps in, at +the same moment that Padie appears +above, whitely clad.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie.</span> Lon! Lon! What's the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>going toward the pile of stuff</i>]. +Go back! It's something terrible.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He heaves the heavy pieces from +the body and drags it out, as Padie, +with a long cry, flies down the +stairs. He feels the breast quickly +and rises before Padie reaches the +table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> I'm afraid he's done for.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>drawing a deep quivering +breath</i>]. Oh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> He must 'a' fell.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie.</span> I knew—drink'd do fer him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank.</span> Did you—love him—so much?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Padie</span> [<i>very low</i>]. Once—a little. +[<i>With sudden, fierce joy.</i>] I don't care! +Now—I kin—live!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hank</span> [<i>looking out over the desert +where the dawn begins to show</i>]. Both +of us.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SLAVE_WITH_TWO_FACES" id="THE_SLAVE_WITH_TWO_FACES"></a>THE SLAVE WITH TWO FACES</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">An Allegory</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Mary Carolyn Davies</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1918, by Egmont Arens.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + + +<p>Reprinted from No. 6, of the "Flying Stag Plays," published by Egmont Arens, +by special permission of Miss Davies. The professional and amateur stage rights +on this play are strictly reserved by the author. Applications for permission to +produce this play should be made to Egmont Arens, 17 West 8th Street, New York.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Slave With Two Faces</span> was first produced in New York City by the Provincetown +Players, on January 25th, 1918, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Life, the Slave</span></td><td align='left'><i>Ida Rauh.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">First Girl</span></td><td align='left'><i>Blanche Hays.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dorothy Upjohn.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Woman</span></td><td align='left'><i>Alice MacDougal.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Man</span></td><td align='left'><i>O. K. Liveright.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Young Man</span></td><td align='left'><i>Hutchinson Collins.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Workman</span></td><td align='left'><i>O. K. Liveright.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><i>And Others.</i></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">Scene designed by Norman Jacobsen. Produced under the direction of Nina Moise.<br /> +Incidental music written by Alfred Kreymborg.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE SLAVE WITH TWO FACES</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">An Allegory</p> +<p class="alignright">By Mary Carolyn Davies</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">The Scene</span> <i>is a wood through which +runs a path. Wild rose bushes and other +wood-things border it. On opposite sides +of the path stand two girls waiting. +They have not looked at each other. The +girls wear that useful sort of gown which, +with the addition of a crown, makes a +queen—without, makes a peasant. The +first girl wears a crown. The second +carries one carelessly in her hand.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl</span> [<i>looking across at the +other</i>]. For whom are you waiting?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> I am waiting for Life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> I am waiting for Life also.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> They said that he would +pass this way. Do you believe that he +will pass this way?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> He passes all ways.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>still breathing quickly</i>]. +I ran to meet Life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Are you not afraid of +him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Yes. That is why I ran +to meet him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl</span> [<i>to herself</i>]. I, too, ran to +meet him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Ah! he is coming!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> No. It is only the little +quarreling words of the leaves, and the +winds that are always urging them to go +away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> The leaves do not go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Some day they will go. +And that the wind knows.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Why are you not wearing +your crown?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Why should we wear +crowns? [<i>She places the crown upon her +head.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Do you not know?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> That is all of wisdom—the +wearing of crowns before the eyes +of Life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> I do not understand +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Few understand wisdom—even +those who need it most—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> He is coming! I heard +a sound.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> It was only the sound of +a petal dreaming that it had fallen from +the rose-tree.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> I have waited—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> We all long for him. We +cry out to him. When he comes, he +hurts us, he tortures us. He kills us, +unless we know the secret.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> What is the secret?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> That he is a slave. He +pretends! He pretends! But always he +knows in his heart that he is a slave. +Only of those who have learned his secret +is he afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Tell me more!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Over those who are afraid +of him he is a tyrant. He obeys—Kings +and Queens!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Then that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> —Is why we must never +let him see us without our crowns!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> How do you know these +things?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> They were told me by an +old wise man, who sits outside the gate of +our town.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> How did he know? Because +he was one of those who are kings?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> No. Because he was one +of those who are afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>dreamily</i>]. I have heard +that Life is very beautiful. Is he so? I +have heard also that he is supremely ugly; +that his mouth is wide and grinning, that +his eyes slant, and his nostrils are thick. +Is he so?—or is he—very beautiful?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Perhaps you will see—for +yourself—Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span></p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As Life saunters into view at the +farthest bend of the path. He +walks like a conqueror. But there +is something ugly in his appearance. +Life sees the girls just as +a sudden sun-ray catches the jewels +of their crowns. He cringes and +walks like a hunchback slave. He +is beautiful now.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> He has seen our crowns!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Remember! You are only +safe—as long as you remain his master. +Never forget that he is a slave, and that +you are a queen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>to herself</i>]. I must never +let him see me without my crown.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Hush! He is coming!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> He is very beautiful—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> While he is a slave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>not hearing</i>]. He is—very +beautiful—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Life!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life bows to the ground at her feet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>in delight</i>]. Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Life, I would have opals +on a platter.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life bows in assent.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Oh-h!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> And pearls!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life bows.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> And a little castle set +within a hedge.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life bows.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Yes—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> I would have a fair prince +to think tinkling words about me. And +I would have a strawberry tart, with +little flutings in the crust. Go, see that +these things are made ready for me.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life bows in assent and turns to +go.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> See? It is so that one +must act. It is thus one must manage +him. So and not otherwise it is done. +Now—do you try. [<i>She plucks a rose +from a bush beside her, and twirls it in +her fingers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Life! [<i>Life kneels.</i>] I +have a wish for a gown of gold. [<i>Life +bows.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Yes!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>And over his bowed head, the two +laugh gayly at the ease of his subjection.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> And a little garden +where I may walk and think of trumpets +blowing.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life bows.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> It is a good rule.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl</span> [<i>calling slave back as he is +leaving</i>]. I have a wish for a gray steed. +[<i>Life bows.</i>] Bring me a little page, too. +With golden hair. And with a dimple.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life acquiesces, and starts to leave.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl</span> [<i>calling him back with a +gesture</i>]. Life! [<i>An important afterthought.</i>] +With two dimples!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> And an amber necklace! +Bring me an amber necklace!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl</span> [<i>tossing away the rose she +has just plucked</i>]. And a fresh rose.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life bows; turns to obey. The two +are convulsed with mirth at the +adventure and its success.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Life!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life halts.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> What are you going to +do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Come here!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life comes to her. With a quick +movement she snatches one of the +gold chains from about his neck.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>frightened</i>]. How can +you dare?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> What you see you must +take. [<i>She seizes his wrist and pulls from +it a bracelet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>frightened</i>]. Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Go!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Life.</i>.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> But why—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> He does not like beggars, +Life. You see, he is a slave himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> He is so beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Do not forget that he is +your slave.... This rosebush [<i>touches +it</i>] is a queen who forgot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl</span> [<i>pointing to bones that +seemed part of bushes along roadside</i>]. +Those are the bones of others who forgot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> But he is beautiful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Only so long as you are +his master.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> But he is kind!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Only so long as you are +not afraid of him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> But you snatched—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Life is the only person +to whom one should be rude.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They hear sounds of moaning and +cries and a harsh voice menacing +some unseen crowd.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> What is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Come! We must not be +seen! [<i>Pulls her companion behind bush +at side of stage.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> What will be done to +us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Hush! If he should see +you! He is always watching for the +first sign of fear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> What is the first sign +of fear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> It is a thought—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> But can he see one's +thoughts—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Only thoughts of fear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> If one hides them well +even from oneself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Even then. But words +are more dangerous still. If we say we +are afraid we will be more afraid, because +whatever we make into words makes +itself into our bodies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices Off Stage.</span> Oh, master! +Mercy, master!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> It spoils him, this cringing. +It spoils a good servant. As long +as he is kept in his place—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A man enters and kneels, looking at +Life off stage, in fear.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl</span> [<i>steals to man and says</i>]. +But he is only a slave. Do you not see +that he is a slave?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Man.</span> How can you say that? Look +at his terrible face. Who that has seen +his face can doubt that he is a master, +and a cruel one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> He cannot be a master +unless you make him so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Man.</span> What is this that you are saying? +Is it true?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> Yes, it is true. Even +though it can be put into words it is +true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Man</span> [<i>starts to rise, sinks to knees +again</i>]. Yes. I see that it is true. But +go away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl</span> [<i>crouching behind bush +again</i>]. Ah!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life crosses the stage, with a whip +of many thongs driving a huddled +throng of half crouching men and +women. They kneel and kiss his +robe. His mouth is wide and grinning, +his eyes slant, his nostrils are +thick. He is hideous.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> You! Give me your ideals. +Three ideals! Is that all you have?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young man.</span> Life has robbed me of +my ideals.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workman.</span> He robbed me too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Young man.</span> But I had so few.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Workman.</span> When you have toiled to +possess more, he will take those from +you also.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life</span> [<i>to an old woman</i>]. For twelve +hours you shall toil at what you hate. +For an hour you shall work at what you +love, to keep the wound fresh, to make +the torture keener.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Old Man.</span> Ah, pity! Do not be so +cruel! Let me forget the work I love!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Dog! Take what I give you! +It is not by begging that you may win +anything from me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice.</span> Give me a dream! A +dream to strengthen my hands!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Voice.</span> A little love to make +the day less terrible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Voice.</span> Only rest, a little rest! +Time to think of the sea, and of grasses +blowing in the wind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Woman.</span> Master!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life lashes her with his whip. The +woman screams. Life draws back +from them, and dances a mocking +dance, dancing himself into greater +fury, laughing terribly, he lashes +out at them. Several fall dead. +He chokes a cripple with his hands. +Finally he drives them off the stage +before him, several furtively dragging +the bodies with them.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>as the two emerge from +their hiding place</i>]. Oh! I wish never to +see his face as they saw it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> You will not, unless you +kneel—never kneel, little queen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> I shall never kneel to +Life. I shall stand upright, as you have +taught me, and I shall say, "Bring me +another necklace, Life—"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl.</span> I must go now for a little +while. I shall come back. Do not forget. +[<i>She goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> I shall say—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life's voice is heard off stage. +Second Girl cowers. Life enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Slave! I would have +the chain with the red stone! [<i>As Life +submissively approaches, she snatches it +from his neck.</i>] And this!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Snatching at his hand and pulling +the ring from a finger. The slave +bows. She happens to look toward +the spot where the bodies were, and +shivers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life</span> [<i>raising his head in time to see +the look of horror. From this moment +his aspect gradually changes until from +the slave he becomes a tyrant</i>]. Are you +afraid of me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> There are many who are afraid +of me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> You are a slave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> There are many who are afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> You are only a slave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> A slave may become a master.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> I may become—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> You are my slave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> If I were your master—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> You are a slave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> If I were your master, I would +be kind to you. You are beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> You are very beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> It is my crown that +makes me beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> If you should take your crown +from your head, you would still be beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> That I will not do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> You are beautiful as the slight +burning of the apple-petal's cheek when +the sun glances at the great flowers near +it. You are beautiful as the little pool +far in the forest which holds lily-buds +in its hands. You are beautiful—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>aside</i>]. I think he wants +me to be afraid, so I will say it. I have +heard that men are like that. I am not +afraid, but I will say it to please him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Are you afraid of me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Are you afraid?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Yes, I am afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Ah, that pleases me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>aside</i>]. I knew that I +would be able to please him! Whatever +I make into words makes itself into my +body, she said, like fear—but she does +not know everything! It is impossible +that she should know everything! And +it is so pleasant to please him—And so +easy! I am not afraid of him. I have +only <i>said</i> that I am afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Will you not take your crown +from your head?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> There is nothing so beautiful as +a woman's hair flying in the wind. I can +see your hair beneath your crown. Your +hair would be beautiful flying in the +wind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>removes crown</i>]. It is +only for a moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Yes, you are beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>to herself</i>]. It may be +that I was not wise—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> You are like a new flower opening, +and dazzling a passing bird with +sudden color.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> She said that I must +not—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> You are like the bird that +passes. Your hair lifts like winks in the +sun.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> He has not harmed me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Your crown is like jewels gathered +from old galleons beneath the sea. +May I see your crown?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>holds it out cautiously +toward him, then changes her mind</i>]. +No—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Let me hold it in my fingers. +I shall give it back to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> I shall give it back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> If you will surely give +it back to me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life</span> [<i>takes crown</i>]. But your hair is +lovelier without a crown. [<i>Flings it +from him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> What have you done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> It was only in jest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> But you promised—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> In jest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Ho-ho! Laugh with me. What +a jest!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>laughs, then shivers</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life</span> [<i>in high good humor with himself</i>]. +Dance for me. You are young. +You are happy. Dance!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> What shall my dance +say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> That it is Spring, and that there +are brooks flowing, newly awakened and +mad to be with the sea. That there is a +white bud widening under the moon, and +in a curtained room a young girl sleeping. +That the sun has wakened her—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>dances these things. At +first she is afraid of him, then she forgets +and dances with abandon</i>]. And now +give me back my crown.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> You do not need a crown, pretty +one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> I am afraid of you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Afraid of me! What have I +done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> I do not know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Do not be afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> I am afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> I shall be a kind master to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Master?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> A kind master.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> You are my slave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> I shall never be your slave again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> And if she were right? +If it is true?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> What are you saying?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Nothing—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> You must call me master.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> No. That I will not do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life</span> [<i>leering at her</i>]. Call me master. +Then I shall be kind to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> No. I can not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life</span> [<i>picks up his whip from the path, +toying with the whip but laughing at her</i>]. +Then I shall be kind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Master—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> It has a good sound.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> You will give me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Greedy one! Be grateful that +I do not punish you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> You would not strike +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> If you do not obey—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>whispering</i>]. You would +not strike—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> You must kneel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>repeating</i>]. Never kneel, +little queen—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> You must kneel to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life</span> [<i>raising the whip as if to strike</i>]. +On your knees! Slave!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> You were kind! Life, +you were kind! You said beautiful +words to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Kneel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> You would be always +kind, you said—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Will you obey?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> I shall never—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life curls his whip around her shoulders.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>screams</i>]. Do not flog +me. I will kneel. [<i>Kneels</i>.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> So? In that way I can win +obedience.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Master!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> It has a good sound.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Pity! Have pity!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> Do not whine. [<i>Kicks her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl</span> [<i>rises staggering</i>]. Spare +me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life.</span> I shall beat you, for the cries of +those who fear me are sweet in my ears. +[<i>Beats her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> Master!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Life</span> [<i>flinging aside whip</i>]. But +sweeter yet are stilled cries—[<i>He seizes +her, they struggle.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Girl.</span> He is too strong—I +can struggle no longer!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They struggle. Life chokes her to +death and flings her body from +him. Then laughing horribly he +goes off the stage.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl</span> [<i>enters skipping merrily. +Singing</i>].</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +Heigho, in April,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Heigho, heigho,</span><br /> +All the town in April<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is gay, is gay!</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She plucks rose from bush.</i>]</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noidt"> +Heigho, in April,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In merry, merry April,</span><br /> +Love came a-riding<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And of a sunny day</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I met him on the way!</span><br /> +Heigho, in April,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Heigho, heigho—</span><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Suddenly seeing the body, she breaks +the song, and stares without moving. +Then she goes very slowly toward +it, smooths down the dead +girl's dress, and kneels beside the +body. Whispers.</i>]</p> + +<p>She was young ... he was cruel.... +[<i>Touches the body.</i>] She also was a +queen. She snatched his trinkets. See, +there on her dead neck is his chain with +the red fire caught in gold. And on her +finger his ring. But he was too strong +... too strong.... [<i>She stands, trembles, +cowering in terror.</i>] Life has +broken her.... Life has broken them +all.... Some day.... I am afraid....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Life enters, still the ugly tyrant. +She remains cowering. His eyes +rove slowly over the stage, but she +sees him a second before he discovers +her. She straightens up +just in time to be her scornful self +before his eyes light upon her. +As she speaks Life becomes the +slave again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Girl</span> [<i>carelessly flings rose down +without seeing that it has fallen upon the +body</i>]. Life! Bring me a fresh rose!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The slave bows abjectly and goes to +do her bidding.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SLUMP" id="THE_SLUMP"></a>THE SLUMP</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Frederic L. Day</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Frederic L. Day.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + +<p>The Slump was first produced February 5, 1920, by "The 47 Workshop" with the +following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Florence Madden</span></td><td align='left'><i>Miss Ruth Chorpenning</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">James Madden</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mr. Walton Butterfield</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Edward Mix</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mr. W. B. Leach, Jr</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p> </p> + + +<p>Permission to reprint, or for amateur or professional performances of any kind +must first be obtained from "The 47 Workshop," Harvard College, Cambridge, Mass. +Moving picture rights reserved.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time:</span> <i>The Present. About four o'clock on a Saturday afternoon in December.</i></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE SLUMP</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Frederic L. Day</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A dingy room showing the very +worst of contemporary lower middle-class +American taste. The dining table in the +center is of "golden oak"; and a sideboard +at the left, a morris chair at the +right and front, and three dining-room +chairs (one of which is in the left rear +corner, the others at the table) are all of +this same finish. The paper on the walls +is at once tawdry and faded. A tarnished +imitation brass gas jet is suspended from +the right wall, just over the morris chair. +In the back wall and to the left is a door +leading outside. Another door, in the +left wall, leads to the rest of the house. +A low, rather dirty window in the back +wall, to the right of the center, looks out +on a muddy river with the dispiriting +houses of a small, grimy manufacturing +city beyond. On the back wall are one +or two old-fashioned engravings with sentimental +subjects, and several highly-colored +photographs of moving picture +stars, each of them somewhat askew. A +few pictures on the other walls are mostly +cheap prints cut out of the rotogravure +section of the Sunday paper. In the +right-hand rear corner is an air-tight +stove. The whole room has an appearance +of hopeless untidiness and slovenliness. +Close by the morris chair, at its +right, is a phonograph on a stand. Outside +it is a dull gray day. The afternoon +light is already beginning to wane.</i></p> + +<p><i>As the curtain rises, James Madden is +sitting behind the table in the center of +the room. He is a rather small man of +thirty-five, his hair just beginning to turn +gray at the temples. Spectacles, a peering +manner, and the sallow pallor of his +face all suggest the man of a sedentary +mode of life. His clothes are faded and +of a poor cut, but brushed and neat. +There is something ineffectual but distinctly +appealing about the little man. +Madden is working on a pile of bills +which are strewn over the top of the +table. He picks up a bill, looks at it, +and draws in his under lip with an expression +of dismay. He writes down the +amount of the bill on a piece of paper, +below six or seven other rows of figures. +He looks at another bill, and his expression +becomes even more distracted.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>with exasperation</i>]. Oh!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He brings his fist down on the table +with a limp whack, then turns and +looks helplessly toward the door at +the left. After a moment this door +starts to open. Madden turns +quickly to the front, trying to compose +his face and busying himself +with the bills. The door continues +to open, and Mrs. Madden now issues +from it lazily. She is thirty-two +years old, and a good half head +taller than her husband. Where +he is thin and bony, she has already +begun to lose her figure. Her yellow +hair, the color of molasses +kisses, is at once greasy and untidy, +and seems ready to come to +pieces. Her face is beginning to +lose its contour—the uninspired +face of a lower middle-class woman +who has once been pretty in a +rather cheap way. She is sloppily +dressed in showy purple silk. Her +skirt is short, and she wears brand +new, high, shiny, mahogany-colored +boots. She has powdered her +nose.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>uninterestedly, in a +slow, flat, nasal voice</i>]. How long y' +been home? Yer pretty late f'r Sat'rdy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>still looking down and trying +to control his feelings</i>]. The head bookkeeper +kept me, checkin' up the mill pay +roll. I been here [<i>consulting his watch</i>] +just seven minutes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>yawning</i>]. Thanks. +Yer s' darn acc'rate, Jim. I didn' really +wanta know.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He looks at another bill and writes +down the amount on the same piece +of paper as before, keeping his +head averted so that she may not +see his face.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Jim. [<i>With lazy self-satisfaction.</i>] +Look up an' glimpse yer +wifey in 'r new boots. [<i>She draws up +her skirts sufficiently to show the boots.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He looks up unwillingly and makes +a movement of exasperation.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Oh, Florrie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> W'at's a matter? +Don'choo like 'em?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> You didn't need another +pair, Florrie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>on the defensive</i>]. Y' +wouldn' have me look worse 'n one o' +these furriners, would y'? There's Mrs. +Montanio nex' door; she's jus' got a pair +o' mahogany ones an' a pair o' lemon +colored ones. An' <i>her</i> husban's on'y a +"slasher."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Slashers get a big sight more +pay than under bookkeepers these days, +Florrie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>persuasively</i>]. Got 'em +at a bargain, anyways. Jus' think, Jim. +On'y twelve, an' they <i>was</i> sixteen. +[<i>Madden groans audibly. She changes +the subject hastily.</i>] W'at's a news down +town?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>seriously</i>]. Florrie— +[<i>He hesitates and then seems to change his +mind. He relaxes and speaks wearily, +trying to affect an off-hand manner.</i>] +Nothin' much. [<i>Struck by an unpleasant +recollection.</i>] Comin' home by Market +Wharf I saw 'em pull a woman out o' +the river.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>interested</i>]. Y' don' +say, Jim. Was she dead?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. I ... I don't +know. I didn't stop. [<i>He passes his +hand across his face with a sudden gesture +of horror.</i>] You know, Florrie, I +hate things like that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Well—y' poor boob! +Not t' find out if she was dead!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She gives an impatient shrug of the +shoulders and passes behind him, +going over to the back window and +looking out aimlessly. Madden +picks up another bill, regarding +it malevolently. After a moment +she turns carelessly toward him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Jim. [<i>He does not +look up.</i>] Say, Jim. I'm awful tired o' +cookin'. There ain't a thing t' eat in th' +house. Le's go down t' Horseman's f'r +a lobster supper t'night, an' then take +in a real show. Mrs. Montanio's tol' +me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>interrupting very gravely</i>]. +Florrie. [<i>He rises to his feet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>continuing without a +pause</i>]. There's an awful comical show +down t' th' Hyperion. Regal'r scream, +they say. Mrs. Montanio—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>breaking in</i>]. Florrie, there's +somethin' I got to say to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>a little sulky</i>]. I got +lots I'd like t' say t' <i>you</i>. On'y I ain't +sayin' it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>more quietly</i>]. I wasn't goin' +to say it now ... not 'till I finished +goin' through these. [<i>He makes a gesture +toward the bills.</i>] But when I saw +your new shoes, an' specially when you +spoke o' goin' out to-night....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Well, why shouldn' I? +I got t' have <i>some</i> fun.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>keeping his self-control</i>]. +Look here, Florrie. D'you know what I +was doin' when you came in?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> I didn't notice. Figgerin' +somethin', I s'pose. Y' always are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> This mornin' at the office I +got called to the phone. The Excelsior +Shoe Comp'ny said you cashed a check +there yesterday for fifteen dollars. Said +you bought a pair o' shoes ... those, I +suppose [<i>He looks at her feet. She turns +away sulkily.</i>] ... an' had some money +left over. Check came back to 'em this +mornin' from the bank.—"No funds."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>with righteous but lazy +indignation</i>]. How'd I know there wasn't +no money in th' bank?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> If you kept your check book +up to date you'd know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> W'at right they got not +t' cash my check?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>still controlling himself</i>]. +The bank don't let you overdraw any +more. [<i>He glances back at the bills.</i>] +D'you know, I'm wonderin' why you +didn't charge those boots.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> I ain't got any account +at th' Excelsior.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> I guess it's the only place in +town you haven't got one.—You don't +seem to remember what salary I get.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Sure—I know. Ninety-five +a month. Y' know mighty well I'm +ashamed o' you f'r not gettin' more. +Mrs. Montanio's husban'—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>breaking in</i>]. Hang the Montanios! +[<i>More quietly.</i>] Don't you see +what I'm gettin' at? Here it is the +twelfth o' December; you know my pay +don't come in till the end o' the month; +an' here you go an' draw all our money +out o' the bank ... an' more. [<i>Turning +toward the table.</i>] An' <i>look</i> at these +bills!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> James Madden, I like +t' know w'at right you got t' talk t' me +like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>thoughtfully</i>]. I've always +argued it's the woman's job to run the +house. [<i>He walks around the table from +front to rear, passing to its left, and +looking down at the bills. With conviction.</i>] +It's no use!—I don't just see +how we're goin' to get out of this mess; +but I do know one thing. [<i>Advancing +toward her from the rear of the table.</i>] +After this <i>I'm</i> goin' to spend our money, +even if I have to buy your dresses.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>with rising anger</i>]. If +you say I've been extrav'gant, James +Madden, yer a plain liar!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>biting his lip and stepping +back a pace</i>]. Easy, Florrie!—I know +you don't mean that, or—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>interrupting viciously</i>]. +I do!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>persuasively</i>]. Look here, +Florrie. We got to work this out together. +There's no use gettin' mad. +Prob'ly you aren't extravagant—really. +Just considerin' the size o' my salary.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span>. A pig couldn' live decent +on <i>your</i> salary!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span>. Other folks seem to get on, +even in these times. What would you do +if we had kids?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span>. Thank the Lord we +ain't got <i>them</i> t' think about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>shocked</i>]. Florence!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Well, I guess anybody'd +be glad not t' have kids with <i>you</i> f'r a +husban'. Y' don't earn enough money +t' keep a cat—let alone kids! An' jus' +t' think they'd be like you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>more surprised than angry</i>]. +Florence—you're talking like a street +woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Oh, I am, am I? Well, +I guess you treat me like a street woman. +Y' don' deserve t' have a wife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Well, I don't guess I do. +Not one like you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> That's right! That's +right! You don' know how t' treat a +lady.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>controlling himself</i>]. Look +here, Florrie. Don't let's get all het up +over this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Who's gettin' het up? +[<i>Bursting past him toward the door at +the left.</i>] I wish t' God you was a gen'leman!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Florrie—<i>don't</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>turning on him from the +other side of the table</i>]. W'y don't y' go +out an' dig in th' ditch? Y'd earn a damn +sight more money th'n—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>with angry impatience</i>]. +You <i>know</i> I'm not strong enough.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Bony little shrimp! +Not even pep enough t' have kids!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>beside himself</i>]. Florence! +[<i>Going toward her.</i>] I'm goin' to tell +you some things I never thought I would. +You're just a plain, common, selfish, vulgar +woman! You don't care one penny +for anybody except yourself. You an' +your clothes an' your movies an' your +sodas an' your candy! [<i>Mrs. Madden is +glowering at him across the table. She +is beginning to weep with rage.—Two or +three times she opens her mouth as if to +speak, but each time he cuts her short.</i>] +Look at the way you been leavin' this +house lately. [<i>He makes an inclusive +gesture toward the room.</i>] The four +years I've lived with you would drive a +saint to Hell! [<i>Mrs. Madden marches +furiously by him and over to her hat and +coat, which are hanging from pegs at +the right, just in front of the stove.</i>] I +wish I'd never seen you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>getting her coat and +hat</i>]. D' y' think I'm goin' t' stay in this +house t' be talked to like that? [<i>Putting +on her hat viciously.</i>] D' y' think I'm +goin' t' stand that kind of a thing? [<i>Putting +on her coat.—Sobbing angrily.</i>] I +guess ... you'll be ... pretty sorry +when I've ... gone. [<i>Coming closer to +him on her way to the outside door.</i>] If +... if I <i>did</i> somethin' ... if somethin' +... <i>happened</i> t' me ... I guess you +... you wouldn't never ... f'give yerself! +[<i>She is at the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> I don't worry about you. +[<i>She turns on him at the door.</i>] You +wouldn't do anything like that. You're +too <i>yellow</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>at the door. Sobbing, +in a fury</i>]. You'll ... see!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>With one last glare at him, she +turns, opens the door and goes outside, +slamming the door behind her. +Madden stares after her, almost +beside himself. He takes several +steps across the room, then crosses +and recrosses it, trying to regain +control of himself. Little by little +his anger fades; the energy goes +out of his pacing, and finally he +approaches the table and sits down +in his old place with a hopeless +droop of the shoulders. He takes +up another bill and looks at its +amount helplessly, finally writing +it down on the same piece of paper +as before. He starts to add up the +total of the bills he has already set +down on the piece of paper. His +hand moves mechanically. Suddenly +a shadow crosses his face, as +an idea begins to form itself in his +mind. He looks straight ahead, his +eyes opening wide with horror. +With a sudden movement he springs +up from the table and goes quickly +to the window, where he looks out +anxiously at the river. He turns +back into the room, and passes his +hand across his face with the same +gesture of horror he used earlier +in speaking to Mrs. Madden of the +woman who had fallen into the +river.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Ugh!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He returns to the table, his face +dark with the fear that has seized +him. At the table, he stands a moment, +thinking. Once again he +passes his hand across his forehead +with the same gesture of horrified +fear. He drops into the chair behind +the table, still thoughtful. +After a moment his face clears, +and he shakes his head with an expression +of disbelief. He bends +again over the bills, and once more +takes up his work of going over +them. From outside comes the +faint sound of some one whistling +"Tell Me." Gradually the whistle +grows louder and louder, as if the +whistler were coming nearer up +the street. There is a sharp rap +at the door. Madden starts violently, +and, jumping up, he goes +quickly to the door. He opens it +eagerly and slumps with obvious +disappointment as Edgar Mix enters +breezily. Mix is about twenty-five; +a loosely put together, thin +faced youth in a new suit of readymade +clothes which are of too blatant +a pattern and much too extreme +a cut to be in really good +taste. He is whistling the refrain +of "Tell Me."</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>as he passes</i>]. H'llo, James. +[<i>Without stopping for an answer, he +crosses the room and starts to remove +his hat and coat.</i>] Where's the sister?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>he has closed the door. +Dully.</i>] She's gone out.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As if struck by an idea, Madden +reopens the door and goes outside. +He can be seen, looking first to +the left, then to the right, and +finally down at the river before +him. Mix finishes taking off his +outer garments, which he hangs +with a flourish on pegs near the +stove. He is still whistling the +same refrain.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> W'at's a matter with you? +Tryin' t' freeze me out? [<i>His voice has +the same flat quality as his sister's, but it +is full of energy.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Madden does not appear to hear +him. He now comes back into the +house, shutting the door behind +him. His face is anxious, a fact +he tries to hide.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Did you want to see Florence? +[<i>Mix pauses in his whistling.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Sure. Nothin' important, though. +Just about a little party she said you an' +she was goin' t' take me on t'night. [<i>He +commences whistling cheerily the opening +bars of his refrain.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>dully</i>]. Sorry. I don't know +anythin' about it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mix stops whistling suddenly and +looks down with dismay. Then, +with his hands in his pockets, he +slowly whistles the four descending +notes at the end of the third +bar and the beginning of the fourth. +He stops and shakes his head, then +slowly whistles a few more bars +of the refrain, starting where he +just left off, and letting himself +drop into the morris chair on the +descending note in the fifth bar. +After another brief silence he finishes +the refrain, but with a sudden +return of the same quick, light +mood in which he entered. The +refrain over, he begins again at +the beginning and whistles two or +three more bars. Madden has +meanwhile sat down at the table +and is again going over the bills.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Jim—ever get a piece runnin' +in yer head so y' can't get it out? [<i>Madden +is looking vacantly down at the bills.</i>] +I s'pose I been w'istlin' that tune steady +f'r three whole weeks. [<i>He whistles +three or four more bars of the same refrain.</i>] +Like it? [<i>Madden does not appear +to have heard him.</i>] P'raps Florrie's +got th' record f'r that on th' phornograph. +Has she, Jim? It ain't been out +long.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>impatiently</i>]. Oh, I don't +know, Ed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>after whistling very softly a bar +or two more</i>]. I see some girl fell in the +river.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>startled</i>]. What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Yep. They was tryin' t' make +her come to. No use. She was a goner +all right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>rising from his chair. Trying +to control himself.</i>] Where was +this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Oh, not s' far below here. Saw +her m'self, I did.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>with increasing fear. Taking +a step or two toward Mix.</i>] Did you +see her face?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Nope. Somethin' 'd struck her +face. Y'd hardly know she was a woman, +'cept f'r her clothes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>wildly. Coming closer</i>]. +How long ago?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> W'at y' gettin' s' het up about? +[<i>Madden is almost frantic.</i>] Oh ... +'bout 'n hour.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Madden relaxes suddenly. The reaction +is almost too much for him. +He slowly goes back to the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. Oh ... down +by Market Wharf?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Sure. Did y' see her? [<i>Madden +sits down heavily.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Uhuh.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>For a second or two there is silence. +Madden rearranges the bills in +front of him. Mix lolls in the armchair, +whistling very softly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Ed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Uhuh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Would you call Florrie a +... a ... well one o' them high-strung +girls?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Gosh, no!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> You don't think she'd be the +sort to fly off the handle an' do ... +well, somethin' desp'rate?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Come off. You know's well's I +do, Florrie's nothin' but a big jelly fish.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Ed—I don't want you to +talk that way about Florrie. You don't +'preciate her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Well, w'at's bitin' <i>you</i>? W'at +y' askin' all these questions f'r, anyways?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>dully</i>]. Oh, nothin'.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Madden looks down uneasily at the +bills, but without giving them any +real attention. Mix yawns and +lazily shifts his position in the armchair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Ed—I do want to ask you +somethin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>indifferently</i>]. Shoot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> I want you to tell the truth +about this, Ed. Even if you think it will +hurt my feelings. It won't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Spit it out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Just what sort of a chap do +you think I am?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>considering</i>]. Huh! That's easy. +D' y' really wanta know w'at I think?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>gravely</i>]. I cert'nly do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Well—if you really wanta +know, I think yer a damn good kid +[<i>Madden looks suddenly grateful</i>] ... +but a bit weak on th' pep.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>a trifle dubiously</i>]. Thanks. +[<i>Thoughtfully.</i>] You don't think I'm unfair?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Unfair? Why, no. How d' y' +mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Well ... here in the house, +f'r instance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Lord, no, Jim! Yer s' easy +goin' it'd be a holy shame f'r any one +t' slip anythin' over on y'. [<i>After a +short pause. Suspiciously.</i>] W'at y' +askin' all these questions f'r, anyways?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Oh—nothin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>struck with an idea.—Starting +up from his chair</i>]. <i>I</i> know w'at's bitin' +you. You an' Florrie's had a row. [<i>He +walks up to Madden and taps his arm +familiarly with the back of his hand.</i>] +Come on. Own up! [<i>He passes around +behind Madden until he stands behind the +chair at the left of the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Well ... we did have a +... a sort of a ... disagreement.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> I bet y' did. Look here, Jim. +W'at's a use o' takin' it s' hard?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>gravely</i>]. The trouble is——[<i>He +breaks off</i>] I guess I was mostly in +the wrong.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>sitting down vehemently</i>]. Tell +that to a poodle! I know you an' I know +Florrie. I guess I know who'd be in the +wrong, all right. She was bad enough +w'en y' firs' got sweet on 'r—jus' a lazy +fool, ev'n if she did have a pretty face. +Gee, how you did fall f'r her face! +Moonin' round an' sayin' how <i>wonderful</i> +she was! [<i>He chuckles.</i>] An' Florrie +twenty-eight years old ... an' jus' waitin' +t' fall into yer arms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Ed—don't say things like +that, even in fun.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Hell! It's the truth.... But +lately Florrie's jus' plain slumped. She's +nothin' now but a selfish, lazy pig.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. I won't have you +talk that way about Florrie. She's made +me a good wife ... on the whole. She +don't go trapesin' off like some o' your +fly by nights. She's affection'te ... an' +good tempered ... an'——[<i>Mix is grinning +incredulously.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Rats! Yer havin' a damn hard +time t' say anythin' real nice about 'r. +I wouldn' stretch th' truth s' far 's <i>that</i> +[<i>snapping his fingers.</i>] f'r her, ev'n if she +is m' sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>vehemently</i>]. Ed—if you +can't talk decently about a nice girl like +Florrie, I guess you better get out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>slowly rising from his chair</i>]. +Well I'll be damned! All right, I <i>will</i> +go.... Yer crazy, Jim!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>rising and putting a restraining +arm on Mix's shoulder. Nervously</i>]. +Don't mind me, Ed. I didn't really mean +what I said. I'm all upset.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Sh'd think y' were. [<i>After a +slight hesitation, he sits down again.</i>] +W'at y' quarrelin' 'bout? Money?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>sitting down again</i>]. Uhuh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Huh! Thought as much.... +As I was sayin', I know Florrie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span>. It really wasn't her fault.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>slowly and emphatically</i>]. Well, +you are sappy. Ever'body knows Florrie +spends more money th'n you an' all +my family put t'gether.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span>. You wouldn't have me deny +her <i>ev'rythin'</i>?... She's got to have +<i>some</i> fun.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span>. But, Lord, man, y' don't earn th' +income of a John D. Rockefeller.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>somberly</i>]. I know.... I +ought to do much better. But that isn't +<i>her</i> fault. Besides, she's learned her lesson.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span>. Well, I'll be damned! T' hear +you talk this way. O' course, y' kep' yer +mouth pretty well shut. But we all figgered +you was havin' th' devil's own time +with Florrie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>rising from his seat. With +deep feeling</i>]. Ed——[<i>He turns and +goes over to the window, looks out and +then faces around</i>]. I never knew ... +till just now ... how fond I was of her.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mix regards him with a puzzled expression. +Madden begins to walk +up and down the floor, at first +slowly and thoughtfully, then more +and more nervously. The light +outside begins to fade.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>after a pause. Looking up at +Madden</i>]. Jim. Y' never c'n tell w'at +these women 're goin' t' do—can yer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>stopping abruptly. Intensely</i>]. +I s'pose not, Ed. [<i>He goes on a +few steps and then stops again.</i>] Even +... even when they're not ... high +strung.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Madden continues his nervous pacing +of the floor. Mix watches him +with increasing annoyance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>suddenly</i>]. Was that a footstep?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mix shakes his head. Madden goes +quickly to the window and looks +out. From there he rushes to the +door and peers out, first to one +side and then to the other. He +shuts the door, and with a hopeless +look on his face comes back into +the room. Outside the light is +steadily fading.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>slowly rising from his chair, a +look of still greater annoyance on his +face</i>]. I guess Florrie ain't comin' f'r +some time. I'll be goin'. [<i>He goes over +toward his coat and hat.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. Why don't you +drop into Smith's soda parlor? That's +where she always is, this time o' the afternoon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> She ain't there, I don't guess.... +I jus' come from there m'self.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>intensely</i>]. You did?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Sure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>wildly</i>]. Ed—I can't stand +this waitin' f'r her any more. [<i>He goes +quickly and gets his hat and coat from a +peg near the stove.</i>] I'm goin' out.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Madden goes swiftly across the room +to the door at the back and goes +out. He is seen to pass outside in +front of the back window. Mix +takes a few involuntary steps after +him toward the door, then stops +and gives a low whistle of astonishment. +After a moment he turns +and starts back toward his hat and +coat.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>half aloud</i>]. Poor ol' Jim.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He gets his hat and coat, and puts +them on. In the course of a few +seconds the reflective look has gone +from his face; he begins to whistle +softly the same refrain as before. +From his pocket he produces a +cigarette, which he places in his +mouth. He is preparing to light +it when a thought strikes him. He +goes quickly over to the phonograph +and, bending down, takes a +record and examines it. It has become +so dark that he is unable to +read the title; so he lights the +neighboring gas jet. He then +examines two or three records in +quick succession, finally producing +one which causes a smile to spread +over his face.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He places his find on the phonograph, +winds the machine, and +starts his record playing. The +tune is the same one he has been +whistling the whole afternoon. +With an expression of great pleasure +he hears the record start, at +the same time producing a huge +nickel watch from his pocket and +glancing at it casually. As he sees +the time, his whole expression +changes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mix</span> [<i>throwing his cigarette impatiently +on the floor</i>]. Hell!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He stops the phonograph and tilts +back the playing arm. He buttons +up his overcoat, turns up his collar +and adjusts his hat. Then, his +whistle suddenly breaking out +again loudly into his favorite refrain, +he marches quickly across +the room to the door at the back, +and goes out. He is seen to pass +by the window, and his whistling +is heard to die away gradually +down the street.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Stillness has hardly fallen when the +door at the back opens, and Mrs. +Madden enters. She appears a +trifle chilly, but seems otherwise +to have recovered her composure. +Closing the door behind her, she +comes forward lazily to the table. +She looks down at the piles of bills +before her with a perfectly vacant +stare, and taking from her pocket +a pound box of candy she tosses it +down on the papers. She opens +the cover and extracts a large chocolate +cream, which she eats indolently +and with evident pleasure. +Next, she removes her hat and coat, +throwing them carelessly on the +table beside the candy. She walks, +with a lazy, flat-footed step, over +to the gas jet at the right, and +turns up the gas sufficiently for +reading. Looking down, she +notices the record left on the phonograph.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>with slow pleasure</i>]. +Hm!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Without bothering to find out +whether or not the phonograph is +wound up, she starts it going and +places the playing arm with apparent +carelessness so that the +record begins playing about a third +of the way through. She listens to +the music for three or four seconds +with an expression of indolent appreciation, +then she crosses the +floor to the door at the left, always +moving with the same flat-footed +walk. Opening the door, she peers +through it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>calling, her flat voice +rising above the sound of the phonograph</i>]. +Oh Ji—im!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She listens a moment for an answer; +but as there is none, she +closes the door and turns around. +Once again the music catches and +holds her attention. She listens +for an instant and then goes back +to the table, making a heavy attempt +at a dance step or two. +From the pocket of her overcoat +she extracts a new cheap novel, +whose content is well advertised by +a lurid colored cover. This she +takes over to the morris chair. +Another thought strikes her; she +tosses the novel into the chair and +goes back to the table, where she +gets five or six chocolate creams +from the candy box, depositing +them in a row on the right arm of +the morris chair. Then she takes +up her book and sits down. For a +moment she tries to read, but all +is not comfortable yet. She +changes her position two or three +times in the chair. At last she +rises, heaving a disgusted sigh. +Dropping her book into the chair +she walks with flat, heavy steps +across the room and out of the +door at the left, leaving it open. +She returns almost instantly, dragging +two greasy looking sofa pillows +after her. She kicks the door +to, and crosses to the morris chair. +Here she places one of the pillows +on the ground for her feet, the +other at the back of the chair. +Picking up her book once more, +she settles back into the chair with +an expression of perfect animal +contentment. She puts another +chocolate cream in her mouth, and +finds her place in the book. Then +the music again engages her attention; +she leans back with a foolish +smile on her face as she listens. +Constantly chewing the piece of +candy, she hums a bar or two of the +tune which is still being played by +the phonograph. Then she settles +down to her reading, eating candy +as she feels inclined. The phonograph +reaches the end of the record +and makes that annoying clicking +noise which shows it should be +shut off. For two or three seconds +Mrs. Madden pays no attention to +it. Finally she raises herself in +the chair, and without getting up +she reaches over and switches off +the phonograph, then settles back +again to her reading.</i></p> + +<p><i>Some one goes swiftly by the window +outside. After a moment the door +at the back opens, and Madden +stands in the doorway.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>in the doorway, catching sight +of Mrs. Madden. With pathetic eagerness</i>]. +<i>Florrie!</i> [<i>He closes the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>without looking up. In +lazy, matter of fact tones</i>]. 'Lo, Jim.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>coming forward toward his +wife</i>]. Are you <i>really</i> safe, Florrie?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She looks up with a glance of feeble +annoyance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span>. Sure. I'm all right. +[<i>She looks down again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>coming still closer</i>]. Oh, I'm +so <i>thankful</i>!... I ... I been lookin' +for you, Florrie.—Where you been?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>without looking up</i>]. +Wat d' y' say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span>. Where you been, Florrie? +[<i>With even greater anxiety.</i>] You didn't +go down by the river?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>looking up</i>]. Lord no! +W'atev'r made y' think that? [<i>She +takes up a chocolate cream and bites off +half of it.</i>] I jus' took Mrs. Montanio +over t' Brailey's new place f'r a couple +o' ice cream sodas. [<i>She looks down +again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>softly</i>]. Oh. [<i>A shadow +passes over his face and vanishes.</i>] +Florrie. [<i>He sits down on the left arm +of the morris chair and puts his arm +affectionately about her shoulders.</i>] I +didn't know what I was sayin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>puzzled. Without looking +up</i>]. W'at y' talkin' 'bout?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>pathetically</i>]. I guess I +ought not to ask you to forgive me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>looking up</i>]. F'give y'? +[<i>Remembering.</i>] Oh, yes—y' <i>did</i> call +me some darn hard names.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> I know. [<i>Slowly. Looking +into her face.</i>] D' you think you <i>could</i> +forgive me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i><ins class="correction" title="original reads 'lazzily'">lazily</ins></i>]. Sure. I guess +so. Glad t' see y' got over yer pet.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He smiles a pathetic, eager smile, +and takes her left hand, which is +lying in her lap. With an impatient +movement, she stretches her +left arm out and back, carrying +his left hand with it and forcing +him off the arm of the chair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Say, Jim—look w'at's +on th' table.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Madden sighs softly and takes a few +steps toward the table. He sees +the candy box; a darker shadow +appears on his face for a second +or two, and is gone.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden.</span> Have a chocklick, Jim.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She herself picks one up from the +arm of the chair; then she looks +down again at her book, eating the +candy as she reads.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>unheeding.—Taking a step +or two back toward her from the table. +With deep feeling</i>]. Florrie. I got +somethin' I want to tell you. [<i>She does +not look up. He takes another step toward +her.</i>] After you'd gone out, I kept +thinkin' ... thinkin' what mighta happened +to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>with a short chuckle</i>]. +Y' poor boob!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden.</span> Florrie—look at me. [<i>She +looks up with an expression of lazy annoyance.</i>] +Out there—[<i>He gestures toward +the door</i>] the river looked so cold +an' black—An' I couldn't find you— ... I +knew all of a sudden I ... I +hadn't really meant what I said to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>impatiently</i>]. That's +all right. [<i>She looks down again at her +book.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>with increasing emotion. +Going to the arm chair and looking down +at her tenderly from behind it</i>]. I kept +thinkin' ... thinkin' how pretty an' how +... how good natured you are. [<i>With +some embarrassment.</i>] I thought how +we used to walk ... down by the river. +Four years ago ... you know—just before +we was married.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>with growing annoyance</i>]. +Don' choo want 'nuther choclick, +Jim?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>unheeding</i>]. Florrie—d'you +remember that time ... the first time +you let me hold your hand?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>looking up impatiently</i>]. +W'at's bitin' you? Don't y' see I'm readin'? +[<i>He steps back and to the left a +pace or two. She looks down again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madden</span> [<i>humbly</i>]. Scuse me, Florrie. +I just wanted to tell you. [<i>With great +earnestness.</i>] You know, I'd forgotten.... I mean I didn't <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'rearlize'">realize</ins> ... till +just now—[<i>Awkwardly.</i>] how fond ... +how much I ... I love you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>thickly, through a chocolate +cream which she is eating. Without +looking up.</i>] Tha's ... nice.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He looks at her pathetically, waiting, +hoping that she will look up. +His face is intense with longing. +After a short interval he gives it +up. He turns sadly and goes toward +the door at the left, passing +in back of the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>taking another chocolate +and looking after him. He has almost +reached the door</i>]. Jim. [<i>He stops and +turns eagerly.</i>] You ain't such a bad ol' +boy. [<i>His face is suddenly radiant. He +takes several steps back toward her, +bringing him behind the table. She has +looked down at her book again. Coaxingly.</i>] +Goin' t' take me t' Horseman's +t'night f'r lobster?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>All the eagerness, the radiance, vanishes +from his face.—He sits down +heavily in the chair behind the +table. He looks at her, uncomprehending, +hurt, disillusionized.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Madden</span> [<i>without looking up</i>]. +An' say—[<i>She puts another chocolate +in her mouth. Speaking through it +thickly.</i>] I'm jus' <i>dyin'</i> t' see a real ... +comical ... show.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Madden's head droops. He looks at +his wife dumbly, then back at the +table. His left hand goes out toward +the bills; then he drops both +elbows limply on the table, resting +his weight on them. Mrs. Madden +does not look up, but continues to +read and munch a chocolate cream. +Madden stares in front of him miserably, +hopelessly as</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +<i>The Curtain Falls.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="MANSIONS" id="MANSIONS"></a>MANSIONS</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Hildegarde Flanner</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Hildegarde Flanner.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Harriet Wilde.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Lydia Wilde</span> [<i>her niece</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Joe Wilde</span> [<i>her nephew</i>].<br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time:</span> <i>Yesterday</i>.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Mansions</span> is an original play. The editors are indebted to Mr. Sam Hume for +permission to include it in this volume. Applications for permission to produce this +play must be made to Frank Shay, care Stewart & Kidd Company, Cincinnati, Ohio.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>MANSIONS</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Hildegarde Flanner</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>In a small town on the southern border +of a Middle-Western state, stands an +old brick house. The town is sufficiently +near the Mason and Dixon line to gather +about its ankles the rustle of ancient petticoats +of family pride and to step softly +lest the delicate sounds should be lost in +a too noisy world. Even this old brick +house seems reticent of the present, and +gazing aloofly from its arched windows, +barely suffers the main street to run past +its gate. Many of the blinds are drawn, +as if the dwelling and its inhabitants preferred +to hug to themselves the old +strength of the past rather than to admit +the untried things of the present.</i></p> + +<p><i>The scene of the play is laid in the +living-room. At the back is a wide door +leading into the hallway beyond. At the +left are French doors opening upon steps +which might descend into the garden. At +the right side of the room, and opposite +the French doors, is a marble fireplace, +while on either side of the fireplace and +a little distant from it, is a tall window. +To the left of the main door is a lounge +upholstered in dark flowered tapestry, +and to the right of the door is a mahogany +secretary. Before the secretary and +away from the hearth, an old-fashioned +grand piano is placed diagonally, so that +any one seated at the instrument would +be partially facing the audience. To the +left of the French doors is a lyre table, +on which stands a bowl of flowers. Above +the rear door hangs the portrait of a +man.</i></p> + +<p><i>When the curtain rises Harriet Wilde +is discovered standing precisely in the +middle of her great-grandfather's carpet +which is precisely in the middle of the +floor. To Harriet, ancestors are a passion, +the future an imposition. Added to +this, she is in her way, intelligent. +Therefore even before she speaks, you +who are observant know that she is a +formidable person. Her voice is low, +even, and—what is the adjective? +Christian. Yes, Harriet is a good woman. +But don't let that mislead you.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>calling</i>]. Lydia!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia comes into the room from the +garden. In fact, she has been coming +and going for more than fifteen +years at the word of her aunt, although +she is now twenty-seven. +Her hands appear sensitive and in +some way, deprived and restless. +She is dressed in a slim black gown +which could be worn gracefully by +no one else, although Lydia is not +aware of this fact. In one hand +she carries a pair of garden shears +with handles painted scarlet; in +the other, a bright spray of portulaca; +while over her wrist is slung +a garden hat. During their conversation +Lydia moves fitfully +about the room. Her manner +changes from bitter drollery to a +lonely timidness and from timidness +to something akin to sulkiness. +Harriet, whether seated or standing, +gives the impression of having +been for a long hour with dignity +in the same position. She has +no sympathy for Lydia nor any +understanding of her. There is a +wall of mistrust between the two. +Both stoop to pick up stones, not +to throw, but to build the wall even +higher. Lydia employs by turns +an attitude of cheerful cynicism +and one of indifference, both +planned to annoy her aunt, though +without real malice. But this has +become a habit.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> What are you doing, Lydia?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> I had been trimming the rose +hedge along the south garden, Aunt Harriet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> But surely you can find +something better to do than that, my dear. +[<i>She cannot help calling people "my +dear." It is because she is so superior.</i>] +Some one might see in if you trim it too +much. We want a bit of privacy in +these inquisitive times.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> The young plants on the edge +of the walk needed sun.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Move the young plants. +Don't sacrifice the rose hedge. [<i>Pausing +as she straightens the candle in an old +brass candlestick on the mantel.</i>] I—it +seems to me that the furniture has been +disarranged.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> I was changing it a little this +morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> May I ask why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>eagerly</i>]. Oh, just—just to +be changing. Don't you think it is an +improvement?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>coldly</i>]. It does very well. +But I prefer it as it was. You know +yourself that this room has never been +changed since your grandfather died. +[<i>Piously.</i>] And as long as I am mistress +in this house, it shall remain exactly as +he liked it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia looks spitefully at the portrait +over the rear door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>stepping to the window to +the left of the fire-place and lowering the +curtain to the middle of the frame.</i>] The +court house will be done before your +brother is well enough to come downstairs, +Lydia. How astonished he will be +to see it completed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Yes. But he would much +rather watch while it is being done.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Well naturally. But from +upstairs you can't see through the leaves +of the maple tree. Why, Lydia, there +isn't another tree for miles around with +such marvelous foliage. Great-grandfather +Wilde did not know, when he set +out a sapling, that the county court house +was to be built—almost in its very +shadow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> You always did admire any +kind of a family tree.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>as if speaking to an unruly +child</i>]. If Great-grandfather Wilde heard +you say that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>with a sudden flash of spirit +which dies almost before she ceases to +speak</i>]. If Great-grandfather Wilde +heard me say that. It may be he would +have the excellent sense to come back +and chop off a limb or two, so that Joe +could have sunlight in that little dark +room up there, and see out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>lifting her left hand and letting +it sink upon her knee with the air of +one who has suffered much, but can suffer +more</i>]. Lydia, my dear child, I am +not responsible for your disposition this +lovely morning. Moreover, this is a fruitless—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Fruitless, fruitless! <i>Why</i> +couldn't he have planted an apple tree? +[<i>Throwing her head back slightly.</i>] With +blossoms in the spring and fruit in the +summer—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> I beg your pardon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>wearily</i>]. With blossoms in the +spring and fruit in the summer. [<i>Slowly +and gazing toward the window.</i>] Sounds +rather pretty, doesn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>unsympathetically</i>]. I do +not understand what you are talking +about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>shortly</i>]. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> It is always a source of sorrow +to me, Lydia, that you show so little +pride in any of the really noble men in +the Wilde family.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> I never knew them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> But you could at least reverence +what I tell you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>cheerfully</i>]. Well, I do think +great-great-grandfather must have been +a gay old person.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Gay old person!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Yes. The portulaca blooms so +brightly on his grave. It's really not bad, +having your family buried in the front +yard, if its dust inspires a flower like +this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> I don't see why you insist +upon picking those. They wilt immediately.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>looking appealingly at her +aunt</i>]. Oh, but they're so bright and +gay! I can't keep my hands from them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>scornfully smoothing her lace +cuff</i>]. Really?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>for the moment a trifle lonely</i>]. +Aunt Harriet, tell me why these dead old +men mean so much to you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>breathlessly</i>]. Dead—old—men—? +Why, Lydia? The Wildes +came up from Virginia and were among +the very first pioneers, in this section. +They practically made this town and +there is no better known name here in +the southern part of the state than ours. +We—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Oh, yes. Of course, I've heard +all that ever since I can remember. [<i>Assuming +an attitude of pride.</i>] We have +the oldest and most aristocratic-looking +house for miles around; the rose-hedge +has bloomed for fifty years—it's very +nearly dead, too; General Someone drank +out of our well, or General Some-One-Else +drowned in it, I always forget which.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Lydia!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>soothingly</i>]. Oh, it doesn't +make much difference which. That +doesn't worry me. But what does, is +how you manage to put a halo around all +your fathers and grandfathers and—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>piously</i>]. Because they represent +the noble traditions of a noble past.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> What about the noble present?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>looking vaguely about the +room</i>]. I have not seen it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. No, you have not +seen it. [<i>Turning to go.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Just one moment, Lydia. I +want to speak to you about your brother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>quickly</i>]. Did the doctor say +that Joe is worse?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> No. In fact, the doctor +won't tell me anything. He and Joe seem +to have a secret. I can get nothing definite +from the doctor at all. But what +I feel it my duty to ask you, Lydia, is +this: Tell me truthfully. Have you been +speaking to Joe about—Heaven?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> No. What a dreadful thing +to even mention to a sick boy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> My dear, you are quite +wrong. But some one has been misinforming +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Really?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Lydia, I am very distressed. +[<i>Slowly.</i>] Your young brother holds the +most unusual and sacrilegious ideas of +immortality.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>indifferently</i>]. So?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> No member of the Wilde +family has ever held such ideas. It is +quite irregular.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> What does he think?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> I don't know that I can tell +you clearly. It is all so distasteful to +me. But he declares—even in contradiction +to my explanation—that after +death we continue our earthly occupations,—that +is, our studies, our ambitions—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> That is a wonderful idea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>not noticing</i>]. That if we +die before accomplishing anything on +earth, we have a chance in the after-life +to work. Work! Imagine! In fact he +pictures Heaven as a place where people +are—doing things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>lifting her head and smiling</i>]. +Oh, that is beautiful—I mean, what did +you tell him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>reverently</i>]. I explained very +carefully that Heaven is peace, peace. +That the first thing we do when a dear +one dies, is to pray for the eternal rest +of his soul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>dully</i>]. Oh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Yes, Lydia, I am glad to see +that you share my distress. Why—he +desecrates the conception of Heaven with +workmen, artists, inventors, musicians—anything +but angels.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Anything but angels. [<i>Smiles.</i>] +That is quite new, is it not? At least in +this little town. Does Joe see himself +building houses in Heaven?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> That is the worst of it. +Why, Lydia, even after I told him patiently +that there were no such things as +architects in Heaven, he still insists that +if he dies, he is going to be one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>startled</i>]. If he should die?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>decidedly</i>]. That is simply +another foolish fancy. He has been confined +so long, that he gets restless and +imagines these strange things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Poor Joe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Don't sympathize with him, +please. I can't possibly allow him to become +an architect.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Why not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> When the men in our family +have been clergymen for four generations?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Yes, but they're dead now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> All the more reason for continuing +the tradition.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> There isn't one bit of money in +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>proudly</i>]. When was a Wilde +ever slave to money?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>sulkily</i>]. Certainly not since +my day, and for a very, very good reason.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Well, at least we have sufficient +to send Joe to college—and as a +divinity student. And some day we will +hear him preach in the house of the Lord.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> He would rather build houses +himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Simply a boyish whim. He's +too young to really have a mind of his +own. [<i>Confidently.</i>] He will do what I +tell him to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> He is very nearly nineteen, +Aunt Harriet. Didn't you have a mind +of your own when you were nineteen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Certainly not. Yes, of +course.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia laughs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>the hem of her skirt bellowing +with dignity.</i>] This is entirely different. +If you can't be polite, Lydia, you +might at least stop laughing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>still laughing</i>]. Oh, no—oh, +no—I take after my great-great-grandfather. +I've just discovered it. At last +I'm interested in the noble men of the +Wilde family. I know he liked to laugh. +Look at the pertness of that! [<i>Holding +up the portulaca.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>ignoring the flower</i>]. Please +give me your sun-hat, Lydia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>demurely</i>]. Oh, are you going +to look at the portulaca?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> No. I am going to see what +you have done to the rose-hedge. [<i>Going +out through the French door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>suddenly furious</i>]. Go look at +your decrepit old rose-hedge! Go look +at it! And I hope you get hurt on a +thorn and bleed, yes, bleed—the way +you make me bleed. I did cut a hole in +it. I don't care who sees in—I want to +see out! [<i>Looking toward the portrait +and throwing the flowers on the floor.</i>] +Take your stupid flowers—take them. +They don't do me any good. They're +withering, they're withering!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes to lean against the window +and look toward the court house. +As she stands there, the door opens +slowly and Joe, with blankets +wrapped about him and trailing +from his shoulders, comes unsteadily +into the room. He carries +paper and drawing materials. He +is an eager boy, who seems always +afraid of being overtaken. Lydia +turns suddenly and starts toward +the door. She stops in surprise as +she sees her brother.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Joe! My goodness! Whatever +made you come downstairs? Aunt +Harriet will be angry. Why this might +be awfully dangerous for you, Joe. How +did you come to do such a thing?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She helps him toward the lounge +and arranges a cushion for him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>sinking back, but facing the window</i>]. +I wanted to see how the court +house was getting on. I can't see out of +my window, you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Well, you see [<i>Raising the +blind.</i>] they will soon have it done.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>delightedly</i>]. Yes, won't they, +though. Look at those white pillars! +That's worth something, I tell you. I'm +glad I saw it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Just what I said.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Yes, but, Joe—coming down +stairs this way, when you have been really +ill—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Oh, don't argue, Lydia. I have +just been arguing with Aunt Harriet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> You'd better rest then. You +will have to, anyway, before you go back +to your room. I see you plan to draw.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Yes, I've been lazy for so long. +It's driving me crazy, never doing anything. +I thought I'd copy some Greek +columns this morning. Could you give +me a large book to work on?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> I'll look for one. [<i>Hunting.</i>] +Joe, what were you and Aunt Harriet +arguing about?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Oh, nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Yes, I've heard her do that +before. But won't you tell me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> It wasn't anything, Lydia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Here is what you want.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She brings a large bound volume +from the piano and places it upon +his knees.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Thank you. [<i>Settling himself to +draw.</i>] Where is she, by the way?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Out looking at the rose-hedge, +where I cut a hole in it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> A hole in the sacred rose-hedge! +Where did you suddenly get the courage? +I've heard you talk about doing +such things before, but you never really +did them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>timidly</i>]. I don't know, Joe, +where I got my courage. I think it's +leaving me, too.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She puts out her hand as if trying +to detain some one.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>cheerfully</i>]. Come stand by me. +I have—I have a great deal of courage +this morning.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia stands behind Joe and looks +over his shoulder.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>turning to her affectionately</i>]. +It's good I have you, Lydia. Aunt Harriet +has a fit every time she sees me doing +this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Having them is part of her +religion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Well, this is mine. What is +yours, Lydia? I don't believe I ever +heard you say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>shortly</i>]. I haven't any.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Sure enough?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>nodding, then speaking quite +slowly</i>]. I never did anything for any +one out of love, and I was never allowed +to do anything I wanted to for joy. So +I know that I have no religion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>embarrassed</i>]. Never mind. Perhaps +that will all come to you some day. +[<i>Joe suddenly sits erect and looks first toward +the French door and then toward +the window.</i>] I wonder what you will +do when I go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>following the direction of his +gaze</i>]. Where?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Oh—to college.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Perhaps when you go to college +I'll do something Aunt Harriet +doesn't think is regular.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> What will it be?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> How can I know now? How +should I want to know?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe looks over his shoulder toward +the rear door of the room.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. What do you see?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Nothing—nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Then please stop looking at it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>meeting her eyes for the fraction +of a moment and then holding up the +sheet of paper.</i>] I am actually getting +some form into this column. If I could +only learn to design beautiful buildings—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He puts his hand to his side in sudden +pain.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>not noting his action</i>]. Why, +of course you will some day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I don't know. Sometimes I'm +afraid I won't get the chance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Oh, you'll be a man. You can +ride over Aunt Harriet.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe looks at his copy and crumples +it savagely. Suddenly he holds up +his hand and listens.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> What was that bell?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> I did not hear any.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I did.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> It must have been the side +door. Some one will answer it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Do people often come by the side +door?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Why, Joe, you know very well +that the delivery boy always comes there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Delivery?—I wonder—will it +be delivery?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Joe, you're even odder than I +am. Stop it. It doesn't do to have two +in the family.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. Oh, just as you say. +[<i>Looking at the book on his knee</i>.] What +is this big book?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Music.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>opening the book</i>]. Why, it has +your name in it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> It is my book.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>in surprise</i>]. Did you ever play +the piano?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>turning aside</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>his face lighting up</i>]. Play something +now, please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> That piano has been locked for +fifteen years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Ever since mother died and you +and I came here to live?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Yes. Haven't you ever wondered +why it was never open?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I certainly have. But Aunt +Harriet always avoided the subject and +I could never get you to say anything +about it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> By the time I had tried it for +two years, I knew better.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> But why is it locked?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Because I neglected my duties. +I played the piano when I should have +been studying, and I played when I +should have been hemming linen, and I +played when I should have been learning +psalms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> But surely when you grew older—when +you were through school—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> No. I lied to her once about +it. She made me promise not to touch +the piano, and left it open on purpose to +see what I would do. And I played and +she heard me. So when I denied it—[<i>Shrugging +her shoulders.</i>] You see, +after that, to have let me go on, playing +and undisciplined—why, it would have +meant the loss of my soul. [<i>Very pleasantly.</i>] +It would have meant hell, at +least, Joe dear, and I don't know what +else. Aunt Harriet has always been so +careful about what I learned.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. But surely you are old +enough now to do what you want to! +I'll ask her myself if—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>alarmed</i>]. Oh, no, Joe! Please, +please don't do that. I should be frightened, +really. It is a matter of religion +with her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> And don't you know how to play +any longer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Yes, some. I sneak into the +church when no one is there and play on +that piano. [<i>She walks to the instrument, +and sitting down before it, rubs +her palms lovingly across the closed lid.</i>] +When you were away six months ago, +this was opened to be tuned for those +young cousins of hers who visited. They +were lively young girls, and the first +thing they did every morning was to go +to the piano. They would have asked +questions if it had been locked, and Aunt +Harriet hates inquisitiveness like poison.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Where is the key?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> I don't know where it is now. +She has probably thrown it away. It +would be just like her to do it. [<i>Changing +her manner suddenly and rising.</i>] +Joe, wouldn't you like a cup of tea?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>earnestly</i>]. No, I wouldn't. Sit +down, Lydia.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia sits down again. Joe starts +to speak, but stops to look about +the room.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Joe, what are you looking for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>slowly and reluctantly</i>]. I can't +get over the feeling that I am expecting +some one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Who is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>evasively</i>]. I don't know. Some +one I never saw before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>laughing</i>]. An unknown visitor +knocks before he comes in the door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I'm not sure that this one will.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He closes his eyes wearily and puts +his palms before them.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>gently</i>]. Joe, you're tired. +Please go upstairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Not quite yet. [<i>Eagerly.</i>] Lydia, +you know what Aunt Harriet and I were +arguing about. I saw it in your eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Of course. It's a beautiful +idea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. Then you think I'm +right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>looking at the piano</i>]. I hope +to Heaven you are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>pleading</i>]. Then do something +for me, Lydia, please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I've been so worried lately to +think—how awful it is if a person dies +without accomplishing anything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> I wish you wouldn't talk like +that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>hastily</i>]. I wasn't speaking for +myself. I meant, just generally, you +know. But what I have been figuring +out, is this—so long as you believe that +you can go on working after you leave +here, it's all right, isn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>hesitant</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>thoughtfully and as though on +unaccustomed ground</i>]. But when you +first go over, you are rather weak—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> You mean your soul?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>speaking hurriedly</i>]. Yes, that's +it. And you mustn't be worried by grief +or any force working against you from +the people you've left behind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Yes, I follow you. Where did +you learn all this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> In a book at the library.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>uncertainly</i>]. I think I have +heard of some theory—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>impatiently</i>]. I'm not bothering +about theories. I haven't got time for +them. In fact, I'd almost forgotten about +the whole idea until the other day. Something +the doctor told me set me thinking. +He is really a splendid man, Lydia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>indifferently</i>]. Yes, I've always +thought so. But what is it you +want me to do for you, Joe? Aunt Harriet +may come in any moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>looking at Lydia very fixedly and +speaking slowly</i>]. Just this. When I +die, don't let Aunt Harriet pray for my +soul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Joe!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Yes, I mean it. She has a powerful +mind. And she would pray for my +eternal rest and I might not be strong +enough to stand against her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>starting toward the rear door</i>]. +I won't listen to you any longer. It is +wrong to talk and think about death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Lydia, please! It means so much +to me. Listen just one second. I know +I'm not very good, but Aunt Harriet +would be sure to try to make an angel +out of me. And if I thought I had to sit +on those everlasting gold steps and twang +an everlasting gold harp forever and +forever—Lydia, I'd go crazy, I'd go +crazy!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>His voice rises to a scream and he +sinks back gasping.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>rushing to his side</i>]. I promise +anything. Only don't excite yourself this +way. For Heaven's sake, Joe, be quiet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>insisting</i>]. But don't let her pray. +And make her give you the key to the +piano, and you play something so I can +go out in harmony.—Harmony—do you +understand that, Lydia? Harmony. +That's the word they used so often in +the book. Do you promise surely?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>tearfully</i>]. Yes, but, Joe, you're +not going to die. You're not! The doctor +would have told us something about +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Of course, I'm not going to. Not +until I get good and ready. Don't be +silly. But remember, when it does happen, +you must not cry. That is very hard +on souls that are just starting out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> I—I can see how it might be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> You won't forget to smile?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> But smile now, for practice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>trying to smile, but failing</i>]. +Oh, I can smile for you easily enough; +but don't frighten me like that again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I'll try not to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>suddenly facing him</i>]. Do you +expect Aunt Harriet to live as long as +you do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>with a second's hesitation</i>]. Yes, +I'm quite sure she will. The Wildes have +the habit of living long, you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> But why shouldn't you live +longer than she, since you are younger?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Oh, I don't know. I'd rather +like to get ahead of her in something, +though.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Well, you do believe in preparation. +I can't see why you are being so +beforehanded, but if it gives you any +pleasure to scare me to death——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> It certainly does, Lydia. And +just one thing more, I want of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>rather shyly</i>]. Take the Bible +and read something to bind the promise. +Just any verse.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> This is becoming too solemn. +I don't care for it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She approaches the lyre table, upon +which, of course, is a Bible, and +opens the book.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Then I'll be ready to go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>looking at him sharply</i>]. Go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Upstairs.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia turns the leaves of the Bible.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> This will be our secret, Lydia. +[<i>He leans forward and looks out the +French door, then turns to her impatiently.</i>] +What are you waiting for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Yes, Joe, our secret. Let me +see. Mother was always very fond of +John. [<i>Joe makes a movement of pain, +which Lydia does not see.</i>] Oh, I have +the very thing to read you. How +strange! <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'I'">It</ins> sounds like a prophecy for +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Read it. [<i>Steps are heard in the +garden. Joe looks up in alarm.</i>] Who +is that coming?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Only Aunt Harriet.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Harriet Wilde comes in through the +French door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> I managed, Lydia, to some +extent, to repair the damage which you——[<i>Seeing +Joe, she stops in surprise.</i>] Actually, +Joe downstairs! But I felt certain +this morning, my dear, when you +were arguing in that unheard-of fashion, +that you must be better.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>hastily</i>]. I don't think it has +hurt him to come down, Aunt Harriet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> On the contrary, I think it +has done him good.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> I should say it did, Aunt Harriet,—you +don't know how much. +[<i>Again he looks toward the rear door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> What is it, Joe dear? Is the +doctor coming again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> No, I hardly think the doctor +will need to come again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Why, how gratifying. I am +so glad.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe closes his eyes wearily.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Aunt Harriet, Joe was just +about to go up to his room, but he asked +me to read something to him from the +Bible first. I opened to this passage. +Won't you read it to him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Yes, I will indeed. It gives +me great happiness, Joe, to see you really +showing a desire for the holy word of the +Scripture.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Harriet takes the Bible from Lydia +and stands in the light by the +French door. She faces slightly +away from Joe. Lydia walks to +the rear door and stands directly +beneath the portrait. She conceals +a smile and looks expectantly toward +her aunt.</i>]</p> + +<p>[<i>Reading</i>]: Let not your heart be troubled: +ye believe in God, believe also in +me. In my Father's house are many mansions: +if it were not so, I would have told +you. I——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>sitting erect and interrupting</i>]. +Many mansions—many mansions—Lydia, +Aunt Harriet—who said I +couldn't build hou—houses—in——</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He sinks back. Harriet does not +look at him, but shuts the Bible +with displeasure and moves forward +to place it on the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>coldly</i>]. That is positive +sacrilege, Joe.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia laughs triumphantly and +steps to Joe's side, walking on her +tip-toes and pretending to dance, +pleased at her aunt's discomfiture.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>stopping by Joe and bending +over him</i>]. Didn't I say it was a prophecy?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Joe does not answer nor open his +eyes. Lydia takes his hand and +then drops it in fear.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Aunt Harriet, come here +quickly!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Harriet comes swiftly and stoops +over Joe. She feels of his pulse +and lays her hand against his +heart.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Joe, Joe!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>moving distractedly toward the +door</i>]. I'll call the doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>standing very straight and +twisting her handkerchief</i>]. It will do +no good, Lydia. Joe has gone. This is +the way your father went and your grandfather—all +the men in the Wilde family. +But this is irregular. They never +died so young.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia covers her face with her +hands.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> And he seems so well. Why +didn't the doctor—Lydia! This was +their secret—this is what they wouldn't +tell me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Secret? Which secret?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She looks at Joe and clasps her +hands in anguish. Harriet kneels +by the lounge and begins to pray.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Dear Lord, I do beseech thee +to grant peace and eternal rest to thy +child come home to thee. Grant that he +may forever sit in thy presence——</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia, slowly realizing what her +aunt is saying, runs to her side and +makes her rise.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Stop that! Stop it, I say! +You worried him enough when he was +alive. Now that he's dead, let him do +what he wants to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Lydia! You have lost your +senses. Be calm, be calm. [<i>Harriet +crosses to the table and picks up the +Bible.</i>] Come. We will read a few +verses and have faith that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>snatching the Bible from her +aunt</i>]. No you shan't! Let him alone. +Oh, Joe, Joe, I'm trying. Be brave! +You knew, all along. You were watching, +you were expecting. Why didn't +you tell me? [<i>Lydia looks from Joe to +the piano and back to Joe. She composes +herself and puts her hands on her +aunt's shoulders.</i>] Where is the key to +the piano?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>horrified</i>]. You wouldn't +touch the piano in the presence of death!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Where is the key?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>unable to fathom Lydia's +strange demand</i>]. It is gone. I don't +know where it is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Don't you? Don't you? +[<i>Sliding her hands toward her aunt's +throat and turning toward Joe.</i>] Be +brave, Joe. [<i>Speaking to her aunt.</i>] +Then if the key is gone, I shall have to +take the fire-tongs.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia steps toward the fire-place.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> Lydia! Don't touch them! +What are you about?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>coming again to her aunt and +placing her hands on her shoulders</i>]. I +want—that—key. And I want it +quickly.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They look squarely into one another's +eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>uncertainly</i>]. I can't give it +to you now. I will never give it to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> No? [<i>Almost breaking down.</i>] +Joe, why didn't you tell me? [<i>Walking +toward the hearth.</i>] Very well, Aunt +Harriet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>passing her hand over her +eyes in terror</i>]. Wait! Look in that +old vase on the mantel. No—the one +that we never use—with the crack in +it—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lydia takes down the vase and tilts +it. A key falls on the hearth with +a ringing sound. She picks it up +and quickly opens the piano.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet.</span> To think that this should +happen in my house. Lord, what have I +done to deserve it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>seating herself at the piano</i>]. +Joe, this sounds like wind blowing +through willow trees. [<i>She plays softly.</i>] +Good-by, Joe, good-by, dear. Good luck!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>pulling down the blinds on +either side of the fire-place</i>]. Lydia, have +you no religion?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>controlling her agitation</i>]. Yes—I +have.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet</span> [<i>looking from Lydia to Joe</i>]. +I can't understand. Joe, poor Joe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> Let not your heart be troubled.... +[<i>Continuing to play.</i>] I'm smiling, +Joe. I'm laughing, Joe! Be strong....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Harriet is stupefied. She starts toward +Lydia, but stops. She lifts +the Bible from the table, but replaces +it hastily, as Lydia looks +across at her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia</span> [<i>dreamily</i>]. In my Father's +house are many mansions.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Harriet looks to the portrait above +the door, as if for help.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lydia.</span> If it were not so—I would +have told you—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>And Lydia looks mystically out +into space and continues to play +while</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><i>The Curtain Falls.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="TRIFLES" id="TRIFLES"></a>TRIFLES</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Susan Glaspell</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Small, Maynard & Company.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Trifles</span> was first produced by the Provincetown Players, at the Wharf Theatre, +Provincetown, Mass., on August 8th, 1916, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">George Henderson</span></td><td align='left'><i>Robert Rogers</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Henry Peters</span></td><td align='left'><i>Robert Conville</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Lewis Hale</span></td><td align='left'><i>George Cram Cook</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span></td><td align='left'><i>Alice Hall</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span></td><td align='left'><i>Susan Glaspell</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>It was later produced by the Washington Square Players at the Comedy Theatre, +New York City, on the night of November 15th, 1916, with the following cast:</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">George Henderson</span></td><td align='left'><i>T. W. Gibson</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Henry Peters</span></td><td align='left'><i>Arthur E. Hohl</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Lewis Hale</span></td><td align='left'><i>John King</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span></td><td align='left'><i>Marjorie Vonnegut</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span></td><td align='left'><i>Elinor M. Cox</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p> </p> + + +<p>Reprinted from "Plays" by Susan Glaspell, published by Small, Maynard & Company, +by permission of Miss Susan Glaspell and Messrs. Small, Maynard & Company. +The professional and amateur stage rights on this play are strictly reserved by the +author. Applications for permission to produce this play must be made to Miss +Susan Glaspell, care of Small, Maynard & Company, 41 Mt. Vernon Street, Boston, +Mass.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>TRIFLES</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Susan Glaspell</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>The kitchen in the now abandoned +farm-house of John Wright, a +gloomy kitchen, and left without having +been put in order—unwashed pans under +the sink, a loaf of bread outside the +bread-box, a dish-towel on the table—other +signs of incompleted work. At the +rear the outer door opens and the Sheriff +comes in followed by the County Attorney +and Hale. The Sheriff and Hale are men +in middle life, the County Attorney is a +young man; all are much bundled up and +go at once to the stove. They are followed +by the two women—the Sheriff's +wife first; she is a slight wiry woman, a +thin nervous face. Mrs. Hale is larger +and would ordinarily be called more comfortable +looking, but she is disturbed now +and looks fearfully about as she enters. +The women have come in slowly, and +stand close together near the door.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney</span> [<i>rubbing his hands</i>]. +This feels good. Come up to the fire, +ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>after taking a step forward</i>]. +I'm not—cold.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff</span> [<i>unbuttoning his overcoat and +stepping away from the stove as if to +mark the beginning of official business</i>]. +Now, Mr. Hale, before we move things +about, you explain to Mr. Henderson just +what you saw when you came here yesterday +morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> By the way, has +anything been moved? Are things just +as you left them yesterday?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff</span> [<i>looking about</i>]. It's just the +same. When it dropped below zero last +night I thought I'd better send Frank out +this morning to make a fire for us—no +use getting pneumonia with a big case on, +but I told him not to touch anything +except the stove—and you know Frank.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> Somebody should +have been left here yesterday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> Oh—yesterday. When I +had to send Frank to Morris Center for +that man who went crazy—I want you to +know I had my hands full yesterday. I +knew you could get back from Omaha +by to-day and as long as I went over +everything here myself—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> Well, Mr. Hale, +tell just what happened when you came +here yesterday morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hale.</span> Harry and I had started to +town with a load of potatoes. We came +along the road from my place and as I +got here I said, "I'm going to see if I +can't get John Wright to go in with me +on a party telephone." I spoke to Wright +about it once before and he put me off, +saying folks talked too much anyway, +and all he asked was peace and quiet—I +guess you know about how much he +talked himself; but I thought maybe if +I went to the house and talked about it +before his wife, though I said to Harry +that I didn't know as what his +wife wanted made much difference to +John—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> Let's talk about +that later, Mr. Hale. I do want to talk +about that, but tell now just what happened +when you got to the house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hale.</span> I didn't hear or see anything; +I knocked at the door, and still it was all +quiet inside. I knew they must be up, +it was past eight o'clock. So I knocked +again, and I thought I heard somebody +say "Come in." I wasn't sure, I'm not +sure yet, but I opened the door—this +door [<i>indicating the door by which the +two women are still standing</i>] and there +in that rocker—[<i>pointing to it</i>] sat Mrs. +Wright.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They all look at the rocker.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> What—was she +doing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hale.</span> She was rockin' back and +forth. She had her apron in her hand +and was kind of—pleating it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> And how did she—look?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hale.</span> Well, she looked queer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> How do you mean—queer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hale.</span> Well, as if she didn't know +what she was going to do next. And kind +of done up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> How did she seem +to feel about your coming?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hale.</span> Why, I don't think she minded—one +way or other. She didn't pay +much attention. I said, "How do, Mrs. +Wright, it's cold, ain't it?" And she +said "Is it?"—and went on kind of pleating +at her apron. Well, I was surprised; +she didn't ask me to come up to the stove, +or to set down, but just sat there, not +even looking at me, so I said, "I want to +see John." And then she—laughed. I +guess you would call it a laugh. I +thought of Harry and the team outside, +so I said a little sharp: "Can't I see +John?" "No," she says, kind o' dull like. +"Ain't he home?" says I. "Yes," says +she, "he's home." "Then why can't I +see him?" I asked her, out of patience. +"'Cause he's dead," says she. "<i>Dead</i>?" +says I. She just nodded her head, not +getting a bit excited, but rockin' back +and forth. "Why—where is he?" says +I, not knowing what to say. She just +pointed upstairs—like that [<i>himself +pointing to the room above</i>]. I got up, +with the idea of going up there. I walked +from there to here—then I says, "Why, +what did he die of?" "He died of a +rope round his neck," says she, and just +went on pleatin' at her apron. Well, I +went out and called Harry. I thought I +might—need help. We went upstairs +and there he was lyin'——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> I think I'd rather +have you go into that upstairs, where you +can point it all out. Just go on now with +the rest of the story.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hale.</span> Well, my first thought was to +get that rope off. It looked.... [<i>Stops, +his face twitches.</i>] ... but Harry, he +went up to him, and he said, "No, he's +dead all right, and we'd better not touch +anything." So we went back down stairs. +She was still sitting that same way. +"Has anybody been notified?" I asked. +"No," says he, unconcerned. "Who did +this, Mrs. Wright?" said Harry. He said +it business-like—and she stopped pleatin' +of her apron. "I don't know," she +says. "You don't <i>know</i>?" says Harry. +"No," says she. "Weren't you sleepin' +in the bed with him?" says Harry. +"Yes," says she, "but I was on the inside." +"Somebody slipped a rope round +his neck and strangled him and you didn't +wake up?" says Harry. "I didn't wake +up," she said after him. We must 'a +looked as if we didn't see how that could +be, for after a minute she said, "I sleep +sound." Harry was going to ask her +more questions, but I said maybe we ought +to let her tell her story first to the coroner, +or the sheriff, so Harry went fast +as he could to Rivers' place, where there's +a telephone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> And what did Mrs. +Wright do when she knew that you had +gone for the coroner?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hale.</span> She moved from that chair to +this over here.... [<i>Pointing to a small +chair in the corner.</i>] ... and just sat +there with her hands held together and +looking down. I got a feeling that I +ought to make some conversation, so I +said I had come <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'into'">in to</ins> see if John wanted +to put in a telephone, and at that she +started to laugh, and then she stopped +and looked at me—scared. [<i>The County +Attorney, who has had his notebook out, +makes a note.</i>] I dunno, maybe it wasn't +scared. I wouldn't like to say it was. +Soon Harry got back, and then Dr. Lloyd +came, and you, Mr. Peters, and so +I guess that's all I know that you +don't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney</span> [<i>looking around</i>]. +I guess we'll go upstairs first—and then +out to the barn and around there. [<i>To +the Sheriff.</i>] You're convinced that there +was nothing important here—nothing +that would point to any motive?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> Nothing here but kitchen +things.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The County Attorney, after again +looking around the kitchen, opens +the door of a cupboard closet. He +gets up on a chair and looks on a +shelf. Pulls his hand away, sticky.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> Here's a nice mess.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The women draw nearer.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>to the other woman</i>]. Oh, +her fruit; it did freeze. [<i>To the Lawyer.</i>] +She worried about that when it turned so +cold. She said the fire'd go out and her +jars would break.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> Well, can you beat the +women! Held for murder and worryin' +about her preserves.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> I guess before +we're through she may have something +more serious than preserves to worry +about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hale.</span> Well, women are used to worrying +over trifles.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The two women move a little closer +together.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney</span> [<i>with the gallantry +of a young politician</i>]. And yet, for all +their worries, what would we do without +the ladies? [<i>The women do not unbend. +He goes to the sink, takes a dipperful of +water from the pail and pouring it into a +basin, washes his hands. Starts to wipe +them on the roller-towel, turns it for a +cleaner place.</i>] Dirty towels! [<i>Kicks +his foot against the pans under the sink.</i>] +Not much of a housekeeper, would you +say, ladies?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>stiffly</i>]. There's a great +deal of work to be done on a farm.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> To be sure. And +yet.... [<i>With a little bow to her.</i>] ... +I know there are some Dickson county +farmhouses which do not have such roller +towels.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He gives it a pull to expose its full +length again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> Those towels get dirty +awful quick. Men's hands aren't always +as clean as they might be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> Ah, loyal to your +sex, I see. But you and Mrs. Wright +were neighbors. I suppose you were +friends, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>shaking her head</i>]. I've +not seen much of her of late years. I've +not been in this house—it's more than a +year.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> And why was +that? You didn't like her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> I liked her all well enough. +Farmers' wives have their hands full, Mr. +Henderson. And then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> Yes—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>looking about</i>]. It never +seemed a very cheerful place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> No—it's not +cheerful. I shouldn't say she had the +homemaking instinct.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> Well, I don't know as +Wright had, either.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> You mean that +they didn't get on very well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> No, I don't mean anything. +But I don't think a place'd be +any cheerful for John Wright's being in +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> I'd like to talk +more of that a little later. I want to get +the lay of things upstairs now.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes to the left, where three steps +lead to a stair door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> I suppose anything Mrs. +Peters does'll be all right. She was to +take in some clothes for her, you know, +and a few little things. We left in such +a hurry yesterday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> Yes, but I would +like to see what you take, Mrs. Peters, +and keep an eye out for anything that +might be of use to us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Yes, Mr. Henderson.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The women listen to the men's steps +on the stairs, then look about the +kitchen.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> I'd hate to have men coming +into my kitchen, snooping around +and criticizing.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She arranges the pans under sink +which the Lawyer had shoved out +of place.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Of course it's no more +than their duty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> Duty's all right, but I +guess that deputy sheriff that came out +to make the fire might have got a little +of this on. [<i>Gives the roller towel a +pull.</i>] Wish I'd thought of that sooner. +Seems mean to talk about her for not +having things slicked up when she had +to come away in such a hurry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>who has gone to a small +table in the left rear corner of the room, +and lifted one end of a towel that covers +a pan</i>]. She had bread set. [<i>Stands +still.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>eyes fixed on a loaf of +bread beside the bread-box, which is on +a low shelf at the other side of the room. +Moves slowly toward it.</i>] She was going +to put this in there. [<i>Picks up loaf, then +abruptly drops it. In a manner of returning +to familiar things.</i>] It's a shame +about her fruit. I wonder if it's all gone. +[<i>Gets up on the chair and looks.</i>] I +think there's some here that's all right, +Mrs. Peters. Yes—here; [<i>Holding it +toward the window.</i>] this is cherries, too. +[<i>Looking again.</i>] I declare I believe +that's the only one. [<i>Gets down, bottle +in her hand. Goes to the sink and wipes +it off on the outside.</i>] She'll feel awful +bad after all her hard work in the hot +weather. I remember the afternoon I +put up my cherries last summer.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She puts the bottle on the big kitchen +table, center of the room, front +table. With a sigh, is about to sit +down in the rocking-chair. Before +she is seated realizes what chair it +is; with a slow look at it, steps +back. The chair which she has +touched rocks back and forth.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Well, I must get those +things from the front room closet. [<i>She +goes to the door at the right, but after +looking into the other room, steps back.</i>] +You coming with me, Mrs. Hale? You +could help me carry them.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They go in the other room; reappear, +Mrs. Peters carrying a dress +and skirt, Mrs. Hale following +with a pair of shoes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> My, it's cold in there.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She puts the cloth on the big table, +and hurries to the stove.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>examining the skirt</i>]. +Wright was close. I think maybe that's +why she kept so much to herself. She +didn't even belong to the Ladies' Aid. I +suppose she felt she couldn't do her part, +and then you don't enjoy things when +you feel shabby. She used to wear pretty +clothes and be lively, when she was Minnie +Foster, one of the town girls singing +in the choir. But that—oh, that was +thirty years ago. This all you was to +take in?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> She said she wanted an +apron. Funny thing to want, for there +isn't much to get you dirty in jail, goodness +knows. But I suppose just to make +her feel more natural. She said they was +in the top drawer in this cupboard. Yes, +here. And then her little shawl that always +hung behind the door. [<i>Opens stair +door and looks.</i>] Yes, here it is.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Quickly shuts door leading upstairs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>abruptly moving toward +her</i>]. Mrs. Peters?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Yes, Mrs. Hale?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> Do you think she did it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>in a frightened voice</i>]. +Oh, I don't know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> Well, I don't think she +did. Asking for an apron and her little +shawl. Worrying about her fruit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>starts to speak, glances +up, where footsteps are heard in the room +above. In a low voice</i>]. Mr. Peters says +it looks bad for her. Mr. Henderson is +awful sarcastic in a speech and he'll make +fun of her sayin' she didn't wake up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> Well, I guess John Wright +didn't wake when they was slipping that +rope under his neck.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> No, it's strange. It +must have been done awful crafty and +still. They say it was such a—funny +way to kill a man, rigging it all up like +that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> That's just what Mr. Hale +said. There was a gun in the house. He +says that's what he can't understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Mr. Henderson said coming +out that what was needed for the +case was a motive; something to show +anger, or—sudden feeling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>who is standing by the +table</i>]. Well, I don't see any signs of +anger around here. [<i>She puts her hand +on the dish towel which lies on the table, +stands looking down at table, one half +of which is clean, the other half messy.</i>] +It's wiped here. [<i>Makes a move as if to +finish work, then turns and looks at loaf +of bread outside the bread-box. Drops +towel. In that voice of coming back to +familiar things.</i>] Wonder how they are +finding things upstairs? I hope she had +it a little more red-up up there. You +know, it seems kind of <i>sneaking</i>. Locking +her up in town and then coming out +here and trying to get her own house to +turn against her!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> But, Mrs. Hale, the law +is the law.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> I s'pose 'tis. [<i>Unbuttoning +her coat.</i>] Better loosen up your +things, Mrs. Peters. You won't feel them +when you go out.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mrs. Peters takes off her fur tippet, +goes to hang it on hook at back of +room, stands looking at the under +part of the small corner table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> She was piecing a quilt.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She brings the large sewing basket +and they look at the bright pieces.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> It's log cabin pattern. +Pretty, isn't it? I wonder if she was +goin' to quilt it or just knot it?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Footsteps have been heard coming +down the stairs. The Sheriff enters, +followed by Hale and the +County Attorney.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> They wonder if she was +going to quilt it or just knot it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The men laugh, the women look +abashed.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney</span> [<i>rubbing his hands +over the stove</i>]. Frank's fire didn't do +much up there, did it? Well, let's go +out to the barn and get that cleared up.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The men go outside.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>resentfully</i>]. I don't know +as there's anything so strange, our takin' +up our time with little things while we're +waiting for them to get the evidence. +[<i>She sits down at the big table smoothing +out a block of decision.</i>] I don't see as +it's anything to laugh about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>apologetically</i>]. Of +course they've got awful important things +on their minds.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pulls up a chair and joins Mrs. Hale +at the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>examining another block</i>]. +Mrs. Peters, look at this one. Here, this +is the one she was working on, and look +at the sewing! All the rest of it has been +so nice and even. And look at this! It's +all over the place! Why, it looks as if she +didn't know what she was about!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>After she has said this they look at +each other, then start to glance +back at the door. After an instant +Mrs. Hale has pulled at a knot +and ripped the sewing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Oh, what are you doing, +Mrs. Hale?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>mildly</i>]. Just pulling out +a stitch or two that's not sewed very +good. [<i>Threading a needle.</i>] Bad sewing +always made me fidgety.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. I don't think +we ought to touch things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> I'll just finish up this end. +[<i>Suddenly stopping and leaning forward.</i>] +Mrs. Peters?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Yes, Mrs. Hale?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> What do you suppose she +was so nervous about?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Oh—I don't know. I +don't know as she was nervous. I sometimes +sew awful queer when I'm just +tired. [<i>Mrs. Hale starts to say something, +looks at Mrs. Peters, then goes on +sewing.</i>] Well, I must get these things +wrapped up. They may be through +sooner than we think. [<i>Putting apron +and other things together.</i>] I wonder +where I can find a piece of paper, and +string.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> In that cupboard, maybe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>looking in cupboard</i>]. +Why, here's a bird-cage. [<i>Holds it up.</i>] +Did she have a bird, Mrs. Hale?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> Why, I don't know +whether she did or not—I've not been +here for so long. There was a man +around last year selling canaries cheap, +but I don't know as she took one; maybe +she did. She used to sing real pretty +herself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>glancing around</i>]. Seems +funny to think of a bird here. But she +must have had one, or why should she +have a cage? I wonder what happened +to it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> I s'pose maybe the cat got +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> No, she didn't have a +cat. She's got that feeling some people +have about cats—being afraid of them. +My cat got in her room and she was real +upset and asked me to take it out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> My sister Bessie was like +that. Queer, ain't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>examining the cage</i>]. +Why, look at this door. It's broke. One +hinge is pulled apart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>looking too</i>]. Looks as if +some one must have been rough with it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Why, yes.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She brings the cage forward and +puts it on the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> I wish if they're going to +find any evidence they'd be about it. I +don't like this place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> But I'm awful glad you +came with me, Mrs. Hale. It would be +lonesome for me sitting here alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> It would, wouldn't it? +[<i>Dropping her sewing.</i>] But I tell you +what I do wish, Mrs. Peters. I wish I +had come over some times when <i>she</i> was +here. I—[<i>Looking around the room.</i>]—wish +I had.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> But of course you were +awful busy, Mrs. Hale—your house and +your children.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> I could've come. I stayed +away because it weren't cheerful—and +that's why I ought to have come. I—I've +never liked this place. Maybe because +it's down in a hollow and you don't +see the road. I dunno what it is, but +it's a lonesome place and always was. +I wish I had come over to see Minnie +Foster sometimes. I can see now—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Shakes her head.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Well, you mustn't reproach +yourself, Mrs. Hale. Somehow +we just don't see how it is with other +folks until—something comes up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> Not having children makes +less work—but it makes a quiet house, +and Wright out to work all day, and no +company when he did come in. Did you +know John Wright, Mrs. Peters?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Not to know him; I've +seen him in town. They say he was a +good man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> Yes—good; he didn't drink, +and kept his word as well as most, I guess, +and paid his debts. But he was a hard +man, Mrs. Peters. Just to pass the time +of day with him. [<i>Shivers.</i>] Like a raw +wind that gets to the bone. [<i>Pauses, her +eye falling on the cage.</i>] I should think +she would 'a wanted a bird. But what do +you suppose went with it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> I don't know, unless it +got sick and died.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She reaches over and swings the +broken door, swings it again, both +women watch it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> You weren't raised round +here, were you? [<i>Mrs. Peters shakes +her head.</i>] You didn't know—her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Not till they brought her +yesterday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> She—come to think of +it, she was kind of like a bird herself—real +sweet and pretty, but kind of timid +and—fluttery. How—she—did—change. +[<i>Silence; then as if struck by a +happy thought and relieved to get back +to every day things.</i>] Tell you what, +Mrs. Peters, why don't you take the quilt +in with you? It might take up her +mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Why, I think that's a real +nice idea, Mrs. Hale. There couldn't +possibly be any objection to it, could +there? Now, just what would I take? +I wonder if her patches are in here—and +her things.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They look in the sewing basket.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> Here's some red. I expect +this has got sewing things in it. +[<i>Brings out a fancy box.</i>] What a pretty +box. Looks like something somebody +would give you. Maybe her scissors are +in here. [<i>Opens box. Suddenly puts her +hand to her nose.</i>] Why—[<i>Mrs. Peters +bends nearer, then turns her face away.</i>] +There's something wrapped up in this +piece of silk.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Why, this isn't her scissors.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>lifting the silk</i>]. Oh, Mrs. +Peters—it's—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mrs. Peters bends closer.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> It's the bird.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>jumping up</i>]. But, Mrs. +Peters—look at it. Its neck! Look at +its neck! It's all—other side <i>to</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Somebody—wrung—its +neck.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Their eyes met. A look of growing +comprehension of horror. +Steps are heard outside. Mrs. +Hale slips box under quilt pieces, +and sinks into her chair. Enter +Sheriff and County Attorney. +Mrs. Peters rises.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney</span> [<i>as one turning +from serious things to little pleasantries</i>]. +Well, ladies, have you decided whether +she was going to quilt it or knot it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> We think she was going +to—knot it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> Well, that's interesting, +I'm sure. [<i>Seeing the bird-cage.</i>] +Has the bird flown?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>putting more quilt pieces +over the box</i>]. We think the—cat got +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney</span> [<i>preoccupied</i>]. Is +there a cat?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mrs. Hale glances in a quick covert +way at Mrs. Peters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span>. Well, not now. They're +superstitious, you know. They leave.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney</span> [<i>to Sheriff Peters, +continuing an interrupted conversation</i>]. +No sign at all of any one having come +from the outside. Their own rope. Now +let's go up again and go over it piece by +piece. [<i>They start upstairs.</i>] It would +have to have been some one who knew +just the——</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mrs. Peters sits down. The two +women sit there not looking at one +another, but as if peering into something +and at the same time holding +back. When they talk now it is in +the manner of feeling their way +over strange ground, as if afraid +of what they are saying, but as if +they can not help saying it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> She liked the bird. She +was going to bury it in that pretty +box.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>in a whisper</i>]. When I +was a girl—my kitten—there was a +boy took a hatchet, and before my eyes—and +before I could get there——[<i>Covers +her face an instant.</i>] If they hadn't held +me back I would have—[<i>Catches herself, +looks upstairs where steps are heard, +falters weakly</i>]—hurt him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>with a slow look around +her</i>]. I wonder how it would seem never +to have had any children around. +[<i>Pause.</i>] No, Wright wouldn't like the +bird—a thing that sang. She used to +sing. He killed that, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>moving uneasily</i>]. We +don't know who killed the bird.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> I knew John Wright.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> It was an awful thing +was done in this house that night, Mrs. +Hale. Killing a man while he slept, +slipping a rope around his neck that +choked the life out of him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> His neck. Choked the life +out of him.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Her hand goes out and rests on the +bird-cage.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>with rising voice</i>]. We +don't know who killed him. We don't +<i>know</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>her own feeling not interrupted</i>]. +If there'd been years and years +of nothing, then a bird to sing to you, it +would be awful—still, after the bird +was still.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>something within her +speaking</i>]. I know what stillness is. +When we homesteaded in Dakota, and my +first baby died—after he was two years +old, and me with no other then——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>moving</i>]. How soon do +you suppose they'll be through, looking +for the evidence?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span>. I know what stillness is. +[<i>Pulling herself back.</i>] The law has got +to punish crime, Mrs. Hale.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>not as if answering that</i>]. +I wish you'd seen Minnie Foster when +she wore a white dress with blue ribbons +and stood up there in the choir and sang. +[<i>A look around the room.</i>] Oh, I <i>wish</i> +I'd come over here once in a while? That +was a crime! That was a crime! Who's +going to punish that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>looking upstairs</i>]. We +mustn't—take on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale.</span> I might have known she +needed help! I know how things can +be—for women. I tell you, it's queer, +Mrs. Peters. We live close together and +we live far apart. We all go through +the same things—it's all just a different +kind of the same thing. [<i>Brushes her +eyes, noticing the bottle of fruit, reaches +out for it.</i>] If I was you I wouldn't tell +her her fruit was gone. Tell her it <i>ain't</i>. +Tell her it's all right. Take this in to +prove it to her. She—she may never +know whether it was broke or not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> [<i>takes the bottle, looks +about for something to wrap it in; takes +petticoat from the clothes brought from +the other room, very nervously begins +winding this around the bottle. In a +false voice</i>]. My, it's a good thing the +men couldn't hear us. Wouldn't they +just laugh! Getting all stirred up over +a little thing like a—dead canary. As +if that could have anything to do with—with—wouldn't +they <i>laugh</i>!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The men are heard coming down +stairs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>under her breath</i>]. Maybe +they would—maybe they wouldn't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> No, Peters, it's +all perfectly clear except a reason for +doing it. But you know juries when it +comes to women. If there was some definite +thing. Something to show—something +to make a story about—a thing +that would connect up with this strange +way of doing it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The women's eyes meet for an instant. +Enter Hale from outer +door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hale.</span> Well, I've got the team around. +Pretty cold out there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> I'm going to stay +here a while by myself. [<i>To the Sheriff.</i>] +You can send Frank out for me, can't +you? I want to go over everything. I'm +not satisfied that we can't do better.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> Do you want to see what +Mrs. Peters is going to take in?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Lawyer goes to the table, picks +up the apron, laughs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney.</span> Oh, I guess they're +not very dangerous things the ladies have +picked out. [<i>Moves a few things about, +disturbing the quilt pieces which cover +the box. Steps back.</i>] No, Mrs. Peters +doesn't need supervising. For that matter, +a sheriff's wife is married to the law. +Ever think of it that way, Mrs. Peters?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Not—just that way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff</span> [<i>chuckling</i>]. Married to the +law. [<i>Moves toward the other room.</i>] +I just want you to come in here a minute, +George. We ought to take a look at +these windows.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney</span> [<i>scoffingly</i>]. Oh, +windows!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> We'll be right out, Mr. Hale.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Hale goes outside. The Sheriff follows +the County Attorney into the +other room. Then Mrs. Hale rises, +hands tight together, looking intensely +at Mrs. Peters, whose eyes +make a slow turn, finally meeting +Mrs. Hale's. A moment Mrs. Hale +holds her, then her own eyes point +the way to where the box is concealed. +Suddenly Mrs. Peters +throws back quilt pieces and tries +to put the box in the bag she is +wearing. It is too big. She opens +box, starts to take bird out, cannot +touch it, goes to pieces, stands +there helpless. Sound of a knob +turning in the other room. Mrs. +Hale snatches the box and puts +it in the pocket of her big coat. +Enter County Attorney and Sheriff.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">County Attorney</span> [<i>facetiously</i>]. Well, +Henry, at least we found out that she +was not going to quilt it. She was going +to—what is it you call it, ladies?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hale</span> [<i>her hand against her +pocket</i>]. We call it—knot it, Mr. Henderson.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_POT_BOILER" id="THE_POT_BOILER"></a>THE POT BOILER</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Satire</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Alice Gerstenberg</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1916, by Alice Gerstenberg.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pot Boiler</span> was first produced by the Players' Workshop, Chicago, Ill., on the +night of November 20th, 1916, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Thomas Pinikles Sud</span> [<i>the playwright</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>William Ziegler Nourse</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>the novice</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Morton Howard, Jr</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mr. Ivory</span> [<i>the financier</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Henry Ryan</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mr. Ruler</span> [<i>the hero</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Donovan Yeuell</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>the heroine</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Caroline Kohl</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mr. Inkwell</span> [<i>the villain</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>H. C. Swartz</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>the woman</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Anna Buxton</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> + + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pot Boiler</span> is published for the first time. The editors are indebted to Miss +Gerstenberg for permission to include it in this volume. The professional and amateur +stage rights on this play are strictly reserved by the author. Applications from +amateurs to produce the play should be addressed to Norman Lee Swartout, 24 Blackburn +Road, Summit, N. J. Professionals should address Miss Alice Gerstenberg, 539 +Deming Place, Chicago, Ill.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE POT BOILER</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Satire</p> +<p class="alignright">By Alice Gerstenberg</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A stage only half set for a +morning rehearsal and dimly lighted. +Sud, a successful playwright, enters in a +hurry carrying a leather bag of manuscripts.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Stage Hand.</span> Good morning, Mr. Sud.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Good morning, Gus. Just set two +doors; that'll be all I'll need this morning. +We're rehearsing for lines. [<i>Steps +down stage and calls front.</i>] Joe, I'm +expecting a young man, it's all right, let +him in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>from auditorium back</i>]. +I'm here now, Mr. Sud.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Come up, Mr. Wouldby. Some +more border lights, please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> It's very good of you to let +me in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> I was fond of your father. I +am glad to see his son.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> I have written a play, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Too bad, too bad, you make the +price of paper go up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> It must be wonderful to be +the master playwright of our day. +Everybody knows Mr. Thomas Pinikles +Sud.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>setting stage</i>]. Yes, it is a privilege +to be a friend of mine!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>pursuing Sud</i>]. Will you +read my manuscript, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Never roll a manuscript. I see +very well you don't even know the first +principles.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> How can I learn the first +principles? No one will tell me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Wait, I will do a great thing for +you, let you stay and see a dress rehearsal +of my latest play, "The Pot Boiler." In +it I have used all dramatic principles.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> What are they?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Well, for instance, this pencil is +the woman in the case.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> Pencil!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> This inkwell is the villain, although +that's really too dark for him. +Deep-eyed villains are out of fashion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> Inkwell!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> The heroine is Miss Ivory paper +cutter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> Ivory!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Mr. Ruler is the hero.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> Ruler!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Other characters enter from stage +door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> I haven't finished writing it, but +we're going through it this morning as +far as I have written, then I shall see +how to go on. Here are the players now. +Line up, please, and let me see your costumes. +[<i>He studies them.</i>] Now to +work—[<i>Rubbing his hands.</i>] to work—clear +the stage!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mrs. Pencil and Ruler go out left; +Mr. and Miss Ivory and Inkwell +go out right and close the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Mr. Wouldby, if you sit down +here with me, we'll be out of the way. +[<i>Sud and Wouldby sit on two stools way +down right.</i>] You must imagine that this +room is the library in Mr. Ivory's house. +[<i>Sud claps his hands and calls.</i>] Ready.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a pause, then the door up +left opens and Mrs. Pencil comes +in; her pantomime is as Sud explains +it to Wouldby.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>in stage whisper to Wouldby</i>]. +The adventuress—she comes in—she +has been cut—she is worried—that nervous +twitching of lips and narrowing of +eyes are always full of suspense—she +takes off her gloves, her hat—that's good +business. A door opens—she starts—by +starting she shows you she is guilty +of something—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>without hat or gloves enters +from right</i>]. Oh, there you are, Mrs. +Pencil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> Yes, I'm back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> I thought I should have +to drink my tea without you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They sit down to tea—Miss Ivory +back of table center. Mrs. Pencil +left of table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>in stage whisper to Wouldby</i>]. +That tells the audience what time of the +day it is; besides, drinking afternoon tea +shows Miss Ivory is in society.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> Isn't your father going +to join us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>aside</i>]. That's merely to show +the girl has a father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> No, he is talking business +with Mr. Inkwell.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>starting</i>]. Inkwell!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Yes, do you know him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>evasively</i>]. I? Oh—no.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> You've heard of him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> Yes—of course——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>aside</i>]. Do you catch it? Do +you see how her nervousness and her few +words at once suggest that there is a +link between Mrs. Pencil and Inkwell? +That's where I show my technique.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>scratching his head</i>]. Technique! +How can I learn it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> It is the secret that every playwright +locks in his breast. Keep the +young ones out! <i>Mum</i> is the word!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> I am so sorry father has +all this trouble with the brick-layers. +They shouldn't have gone on a strike—just +now—when you are visiting +us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>to Wouldby</i>]. That tells that +Mrs. Pencil is a guest in Miss Ivory's +house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> When you were here last +year my mother——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>aside</i>]. The girl hesitates—they +both look sorrowful; we had to cut down +the cast, so I killed off her mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>sadly, with foreign accent</i>]. +Ah, my dear—we were such +close friends—since my arrival in this +country——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>aside</i>]. You see, I had to make +her a foreigner. A villainess always talks +with a foreign accent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I haven't had much time +to read particulars about the strike. +Does your father still refuse to arbitrate?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>haughtily</i>]. What right +have brick-layers to make rules for my +father? He would show his weakness if +he gave in—I have faith that what he +does is right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>to Wouldby</i>]. The innocent heroine, +so cool and pure and white.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The right door opens and Inkwell +enters—he starts as he sees Mrs. +Pencil; there is a straight look of +recognition between them which +Miss Ivory does not see.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>aside</i>]. That's a dramatic scene. +Doesn't it thrill your spine?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Mrs. Pencil, may I introduce +Mr. Inkwell—[<i>Inkwell and Mrs. +Pencil bow slightly.</i>] Will you have a +dish of tea?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Cup, cup of tea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span>. Dish; <i>dish</i> of tea, or I +quit. [<i>Pause.</i>] Which is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Oh, very well, dish if you like.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sud's manner indicates he gives in +simply to let the rehearsal progress, +but that he will settle with +Miss Ivory later.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Please tell me that you +have ordered the strikers to come to +father's terms?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Inkwell</span> [<i>at right of table</i>]. He +is looking through his safe for more +papers so he asked me to wait in here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> That's an explanation why he +came in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>offering cup</i>]. How many +lumps?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>aside</i>]. That question of the number +of lumps is very important; it gives +a natural air to the scene.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> I am going to the dining-room +to get some arrack for your tea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Inkwell</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. Oh, please +don't trouble——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> No trouble at all.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> When you want to get a character +out, you've got to get 'em out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Inkwell</span> [<i>at right of table, to Mrs. +Pencil</i>]. You here!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>at left of table</i>]. Sch! +I had to come! I couldn't live without +you any longer——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> But in this house?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I was her mother's +friend.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You are indiscreet——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I was desperate for you! +You kept putting me off—when I read +about this strike I had to come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Mrs. Pencil is the dreadful +woman! A play can't exist without +her——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> You mean she was his——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>seriously</i>]. Oh, yes—the more +fuss we make about her the better.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> Oh! Clem! You aren't +glad to see me! Oh! that I have lived +for this!!!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She tears around the stage waving +her hands in grief—making faces +of agony. Sud rises in astonishment +and follows her left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>shrieks in anger</i>]. Idiot! Can't +you talk! Do you think I write lines to +be cut? How dare you cut my lines!!!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I've done just what it +says. [<i>She takes her part from table, +reads from it and shows it to him.</i>] +"Mrs. Pencil shows extreme despair and +passionately——"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> That's not the play! That's the +moving picture version!!! Come here.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He fumbles with his papers. Takes +blue pencil to her part, changes +his mind and uses red pencil—and +puts them back of different +ears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> Oh! Have you the same +play ready for the movies?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> I write in columns—alongside +of each other. Dramatic version, moving +picture, novelization—for magazines—newspapers +and books.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> All <i>at once</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Yes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> What are all the pins for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> When I cut out a line one place—I +keep it until I find a place somewhere +else to patch it in.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Hands new lines to Mrs. Pencil, who +is back of table center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> A great playwright has to +be economical with his great ideas!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Yes, if he wants a yacht.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>studying her book</i>]. +Now I see, now I see—Mr. Sud. Shall +I go on?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Yes, go on!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sud comes down right to Wouldby.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> Oh! Clem—I was so +frightened when I heard about the strikers. +Even if you are their leader now, +they might turn and murder you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mrs. Pencil and Inkwell play center, +front of table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> Nonsense, I control the +strikers, they come to me for orders. +I'll stop this strike as soon as old Ivory +gives me my price.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> What do the brick-layers +want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> They want shorter hours, +more pay, better light—better air——</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Inkwell stops and looks at Sud.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Go on—go on—don't glare at +me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> Pardon me, Mr. Sud—but +you have me say the brick-layers want +better air. It doesn't sound right. You +see brick-layers work out of doors and +the air there is—I beg your pardon—it's +in no way of criticism, sir——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Come here. [<i>He cuts the line, +using wrong colored pencil first.</i>] Leave +out "light and air." That's a confusion +from bad typing in the serial version. +Go on, Mr. Inkwell.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>sits right of table and Mrs. +Pencil left</i>]. See here, Kate, you keep +out of this business—I'm not going to +be spied on by any woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>in whisper</i>]. Who is +spying on you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>in whisper</i>]. You!!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>smacks his lips</i>]. Now we are +coming to a big scene! There is nothing +so effective as the repetition of the same +words brought up to a climax. Begin +again, Mrs. Pencil. "Who is spying on +you?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> Who is spying on you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>tearing his hair—going to them</i>]. +Parrots! Nothing but parrots! Increase +the stress—build up the scene—build—build!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> How can we build when +you don't give us any lines?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> What do you call yourselves +actors for if you can't supply acting +when the playwright uses dashes!—This +is the biggest scene in the play. [<i>Crosses +to lower left.</i>] The very fact that I don't +give you a lot of literary lines puts me +in the class of the most forceful dramatists +of the day! My plays are not +wishy-washy lines! They are full of +action—red-blood—of flesh and blood! +Now you do <i>your</i> part—bing-bang stuff!—shake +them in their chairs out there—make +shivers run up their spines! Make +'em <i>feel</i> you! Compel their applause! +Now go to <i>it!</i> Go to it!!!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sud sets the tempo, repeating their +words.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>shouts</i>]. Get it over! Get it +over!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>shouts</i>]. Get it over! Mr. +Wouldby, is it getting over?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>looks at footlights</i>]. I don't +see anything get over.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> He doesn't see it! You hear? +He doesn't see it! Begin again! And +please, please, please—get it over—over!!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He motions violently with his arms +during following scene as if to help +them raise the vitality of the scene. +Sud sets tempo again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> Who is spying on you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You!!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I??</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You!!!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I???</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> You!!!!!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I??????</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>fiercely</i>]. You!!!!!!!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> I???????</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> What do you call it then, +coming here after me like this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> What do you mean—like +this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>shrieks—beside himself</i>]. Like +what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> Like this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Accent it—stress it—increase +it! Like <i>what</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> Like this!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Like what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> Like this!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>rushes around circuit of stage and +ends near Wouldby</i>]. The best scene in +the play—ruined—ruined! I'm noted +for my strong, laconic scenes and you +make me suffer like this. Perfectly hopeless—I +say increase—you decrease; +nothing but animal sounds! Nothing but +a machine! Oh! What's the use! Go +on, go on—now you see, Mr. Wouldby, +how actors can make plays fail—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> If you'd write us a decent +play once we might—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> No back-talk, madam! I haven't +engaged you yet. If you can't play it +any better, I'll let you out! Show us +what you can do with the rest of the +scene! By Heaven—if you can't pound +his chest right the box office will lose +money on you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>his eyes popping</i>]. Oh! +Must she pound him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Seeing a woman pounding a +man's chest and hearing her scream is +worth two dollars to anybody. Go on, +Mrs. Pencil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil.</span> You are keeping something +from me? You have deceived me! +You dog! Tell me! Tell me! Who is +she? Where is she? You are keeping +something from me!</p> + +<p>[<i>She pounds Inkwell in a rage.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>in innocent wonderment</i>]. +Is she trying to yank it out of his +chest?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Pound! Pound! Get it over! +[<i>Sud rushes back between Mrs. Pencil +and Inkwell, pushes her down left, drags +Inkwell to center, grasps his coat lapel, +shakes him violently and shouts her lines: +"You are keeping something from me." +and pushes Inkwell to right. Sud turns +quickly to left and shows her his manuscript.</i>] +I wrote "applause" here. +You've got to get applause here—so +pound!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> Would you mind skipping +the scene to-day? I'll wear a foot-ball +suit to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>in scorn</i>]. Just like an actor to +have a personal prejudice against a part.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> I'm not "suited" to it yet—but +with the proper costume—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>in scorn</i>]. You must not rely on +costume! Think of your art!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> But why must she pound +him so hard?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>down left</i>]. Because he is the +villain and the audience likes to see him +get it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>at right and Inkwell to +her left</i>]. Who is she? You are keeping +something from me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> What has he done to make +him the villain?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> I didn't want an explanation +here, so I had to interrupt them—sch—here +comes Miss Ivory.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Miss Ivory enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Such interruptions reek with +dramatic intensity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Here is the arrack for +you, Mr. Inkwell—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>accepting it</i>]. Thank you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. I think I'll +take my hat to my room—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Inkwell gives her her hat. She goes +out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>aside</i>]. Not a bad excuse, the +hat! Eh? I had to get her out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> Very natural—yes—indeed—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>seated at right of table. +Inkwell stands back of table—center</i>]. +Well, Mr. Inkwell, I hope we may yet +succeed in claiming you as a friend—instead +of coddling you as an enemy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> If you treat all your enemies +so well—what must you do for your +friends?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> We abuse those we love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>nudging Wouldby—aside</i>]. +Quite epigrammatic, eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> Even abuse at such fair +hands could only please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>aside</i>]. Did you catch the subtlety +of that line?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. Wi—wi—will +you have some more tea?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>coming left of table—to be +opposite her—catching her hand.</i>] I +don't want tea—I want you! I love +you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Wait a moment! That's too +abrupt! I've some more lines here somewhere. +[<i>Looks through slips pinned in +manuscript.</i>] I cut some out of the beginning +of the act. When the first curtain +went up and the maid was discovered +dusting the room I had the Irish +butler make love to her. [<i>To Wouldby.</i>] +[<i>Handing Inkwell a paragraph.</i>] There, +Inkwell, are the love lines I was looking +for. Proceed, please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Shall I go back?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> To tea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Wi—will—will you have +some m—more—t—tea?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>catching her hand and bringing +her forward, he gives speech with +Irish accent</i>]. I don't want tea—I want +you! I love you! Oh! My darlint, it is a +terrible sensation I'ave for you, I'ave—'and +me your little 'and in moine, for the +loikes of you I never—[<i>As all look +dazed and Inkwell has trouble twisting +his tongue.</i>] I beg pardon, Mr. Sud, but +this is a butler making love—I am playing +the part of a gentleman—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>has dropped from his stool and +retired in tears and rage up right</i>]. +Haven't you any brains of your own? +If a musician can transpose music by +sight, can't you do the same to dialogue?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> But a gentleman doesn't +make love like a—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>goes up stage again—ends at his +stool by Wouldby</i>]. He means the same—now +go on—I can't stand these arguments. +They will give me apoplexy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Oh! Come on, Robert, say +anything.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They sit at table again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> Ahem!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Wi—wi—will you have +some more t—tea?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> I don't want tea! I want +you! I love you! Oh! My darling—it +is a wonderful feeling—this one—that—which +I have for you—indeed—that +one which I have for you—put your +hand in mine—for a woman like you +never before fr—fr—never before have +I seen a woman such as you—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Again he has brought Miss Ivory +down center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> My stars! Leave out the h's. +That—which—such!—Get it clear for +to-morrow's rehearsal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>puts paragraph in his pocket—hesitatingly, +doubtfully, sarcastically</i>]. +I ought to have my name on the program +as co-author.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>jumps forward</i>]. You ought to +have it cut out of the program when you +forget to act! [<i>Raps on floor and cries +out.</i>] Mr. Ruler—Mr. Ruler—Pay +some attention to your cues, please!—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sud goes off stage center over bridge +into pit.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>pokes head in from left</i>]. Beg +pardon, sir—I didn't hear my cue!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>at right of center</i>]. It's your +business to listen for it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> But they didn't give me the +cue!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Well, what is your cue?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>not seen</i>]. What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> I asked you what your cue +was?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>appears</i>]. What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Is your hearing perfectly clear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> Perfectly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Then will you kindly tell me what +your cue is?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> I shall go mad! I'm dealing +with lunatics! Lunatics—Once again I +ask you, Mr. Ruler—if you can <i>hear</i>—[<i>Yells.</i>] +Kindly read from your book +and tell me what your cue is—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>yells furiously and is now down +stage</i>]. I've been trying to tell you my +cue is "WHAT IS IT!"</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>During this scene all the other players +come in to see the fight and +grin.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>wipes perspiration from brow</i>]. +Heart disease! Heart disease—I shall +die of it! That line was cut long ago!!! +[<i>Sud walks back and forth across the +pit.</i>] The trouble with you actors is you +can't forget. Oh! If you could only +forget!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>meekly</i>]. I always thought +actors had to remember.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Any fool can remember—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> See here, Mr. Sud—I don't +take abuse! In fact, it's my first experience +taking it from authors. In all the +other companies I've been in the manager +kept the playwright out. He +wouldn't have him meddling about!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sud stops short during this speech—turns—straightens +up—buttons coat—adjusts tie—faces +Ruler.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Mr. Ruler, I am backing the +show. I haven't engaged you because +you can act, but because you were born +good-looking, which is scarcely a compliment +to your own efforts. [<i>Other players +retire now laughing at Ruler.</i>] If +you please we will proceed. I'll find a +line here somewhere in my treasure note +books.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes upstairs and stands near +border lights aside to hunt through +many books he has in his pockets. +Ruler sits left of table to rest and +smoke. Mr. Ivory and Mrs. Pencil +play cards out of character up +stage.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>talks out of character and +gets light from Ruler for her cigarette</i>]. +Did you see the advance notices in the +paper this morning, Jack—saying the +Pot-Boiler is sold out three weeks in advance?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> Bill told me there's a steady +line outside of the box office.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> I have visions of rehearsing +all night outside the night before the +opening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> I'm used to doing that, my +dear. What gets me is the story of the +plot the Sunday edition printed. How +can the newspaper know the plot before +the playwright does?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Doesn't Mr. Sud know his +own plot?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> Why! No, my part's not +written after the second act.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> My part isn't either, but +it doesn't worry me. These authors—[<i>She +points to her forehead.</i>] I don't +memorize until dress rehearsal night. +What's the <i>use</i>. <i>They don't know themselves</i> +by that time what lines they told +you to keep in or put in or take out. The +next morning the critics re-write it <i>anyway</i> +for the manager—<i>I</i> don't begin to +memorize really—until we're settled for +a <i>run</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>worried</i>]. You'll throw me all +out if you give wrong cues—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>rises and strolls about</i>]. +Oh! When I can't use my tongue, I let +my eyes talk. The public doesn't know +the difference. <i>I</i> don't have to act, just +be myself. They engage <i>me</i> for my <i>eyes</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Ah! Here's a precious line +[<i>Goes up to Ruler.</i>], take it down, Mr. +Ruler. "I was in the neighborhood looking +for some real estate." [<i>All the players +suppress a laugh.</i>] Now, Mr. Ruler, +you enter in time—[<i>Sud goes down the +stairs again.</i>] You enter in time to interrupt +Mr. Inkwell's declaration of love +to Miss Ivory. They spring apart—spring! +Mr. Inkwell! [<i>Inkwell springs.</i>] +No, the house is not on fire!—I didn't +say jump.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> Spring is the same as jump!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Ruler enters from left. Inkwell +goes right, Miss Ivory comes center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> There is no time to discuss synonyms. +Go on, Miss Ivory.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Oh! Jack—hello!—where'd +<i>you</i> come from?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> I was in the neighborhood looking +at some real estate—Hello, Inkwell—how's +the strike?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Miss Ivory and Ruler cross to give +Ruler the center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> If you could persuade Mr. +Ivory to—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> No—Inkwell—I'm not converted +to your view! I have my own +theories!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>at left speaks across in delight to +Wouldby</i>]. Now we are coming to the +kernel of the play's success. The new +viewpoint—Use all the stock character +and situations you want, but add a new +twist.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> What does Ruler think?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Listen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> I believe sternly in justice—righteous +expiation of sin—only in +that way can we progress to higher +things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Forms, not things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> Beg pardon, forms—the position +I hold to-day is the result of my desires +in my previous life—when the +trumpet calls me into the next—there I +shall reap the harvest of what I have +sown here. Why should we help the +brick-layers?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Miss Ivory interrupts, "Mr. Sud."</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>waves her silent</i>]. Sch!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> If they chose in their past life +to be born brick-layers here, have we the +right—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Miss Ivory interrupts several times. +Miss Ivory is on stage left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Sch!!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> I ask you—have we the right +to tear down the building they designed +when they were here before? Have we +the right to say to them how they shall +lay the bricks in the foundation for their +next life? Have we the right—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Mr. Sudd!!!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>at last in desperation</i>]. Well, +what is it, Miss Ivory?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Excuse me, Mr. Sud—but +all this time—while Ruler is talking—I +don't know what to do with my <i>hands</i>! +Couldn't you <i>cut</i> his lines?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> I protest! Mr. Sud, I would +resent having a part shortened on me because +the leading lady doesn't know what +to do with her hands. I really think in +this speech of mine you have shown your +talent. To cut one word of it would do +you a great injustice!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>smiles at Ruler</i>]. Thank you! +Quite so! Quite so! Miss Ivory, during +this scene you might be—you might be—be—fanning +yourself—to keep yourself +the heroine, cool and white.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> How well you understand +human nature. The play is really more +important than the players—isn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>aside. Goes back on stage and +sits next to Wouldby</i>]. Of course, but +actors are so superbly conceited.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> I know—poor things!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Mr. Ivory's entrance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> The girl's father?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory</span> [<i>enters</i>]. I could not find the +papers in the safe, Inkwell. Ah—how-do-you-do, +Jack.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> + <small>POSITIONS</small><br /> +<br /> + <i>Inkwell</i> <i>Miss Ivory</i><br /> +<i>Mr. Ivory</i> <i>Ruler</i><br /> +</p></div> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Ivory has crossed to Ruler and is between +Miss Ivory and Ruler.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> Good morning, Mr. Ivory.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> Daughter, dear—do you know +anything about the papers in the safe?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Keep up the suspense—Inkwell.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell.</span> I have no lines here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> A villain should sustain the suggestion +of villainy whether he has lines +or not. Look uneasy—tremble—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Inkwell looks uneasy and trembles.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> But if I see him tremble, Mr. +Sud, wouldn't I ask him if he had a +chill?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> It's not your business to be looking +his way just then. Again, Inkwell.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Inkwell trembles, etc.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>yells to Ivory</i>]. Don't catch his +eye!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory</span> [<i>to Inkwell</i>]. Will you tremble +again please?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Inkwell does so patiently.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Count five for the tremble. +Again please, "Daughter dear, do you +know anything about the papers in the +safe?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> Daughter, dear, do you know +anything about the papers in the safe?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. Everybody look away. +Tremble, Inkwell—Now, Inkwell, count +five—now look at Inkwell—Again, +please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> Daughter, dear, do you know +anything about the papers in the safe?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>claps his hands</i>]. One—two—three—four—five—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> Those valuable papers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> That's it, go ahead!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> I don't even know the +combination, father. Could they have +been stolen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> Did Inkwell really take +them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> He's the villain, isn't he? I +couldn't let the hero do it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> What shall I do? Where shall +I look? Where, oh where?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Ivory goes up stage back of Miss +Ivory to table and knocks off a revolver.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Oh! Revolvers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> Let me, sir. [<i>Picks them up.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>in terror</i>]. Where did +they come from?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>hands to ears</i>]. Are they +going to use them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Of course. I had to show the +audience the revolvers are there, so Ivory +had to knock them down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory</span> [<i>is up stage. Places one revolver +on table</i>]. I have to have these near by +when a strike is on, one never knows what +to expect.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>places other revolver on table</i>]. +Even I have one in my pocket.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>slaps his side pocket</i>]. And +I in mine—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Oh! dear, how dreadful! +Suppose one of them should go off! Oh! +Do be careful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>insinuatingly</i>]. Have you +changed your mind, Mr. Ivory? Have +you decided to accept my proposition?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> What is your proposition, +Mr. Inkwell?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>goes left to Ruler</i>]. I believe +your father wishes to discuss it +with you. Mr. Ruler, will you have a +smoke with me in the orangerie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>corrects him with great disgust</i>]. +Orangerie!!!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Inkwell and Ruler exeunt right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>crosses right—anxiously</i>]. +What does he want to know—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory</span> [<i>almost breaking down. Sinks +into chair left of table</i>]. Oh! My daughter—how +can I tell you—how can I—I +am ruined—ruined!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sud rises, and beats time in rhythm +like a conductor to their "Ohs."</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>a little up and left of +table</i>]. <i>You</i>—<i>ruined</i>—<i>Oh!</i>—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>turning to Wouldby and whispering +audibly</i>]. When you are hard up for +conversation use Oh's—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sits quickly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> We have lived beyond our +means—Oh!—my child—I have only +brought you misery—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>goes to father, stands back +of his chair and caresses him</i>]. Poor +father—don't take it that way—I <i>love</i> +you—we must live differently—anything +you say—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>to Sud</i>]. How sweet and +sacrificial!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>enthusiastically</i>]. Ah! She's +pure Ivory—a chip off the old block!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> That is not all. Inkwell represents +the brick-layers; he will continue +the strike unless I can buy him off.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sud goes up right, to be behind +them. Faces them. Follows every +line in his manuscript.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> And you can't raise the +money?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> He doesn't want money. He +wants to marry you! He will stop at +nothing to get me into prison—any place +to crush me—he has power. I have +cause to fear him.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Ivory at right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>at left. In distress</i>]. Oh! +Oh!—How terrible—how terrible—what +am I to say! Oh—father—and I +can save you? And I hesitate? Yes—yes—I +will—father!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Rushes to Ivory's arms.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> Oh! My daughter! My child! +My child!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> Yes, father, I will, cost +me what it may. I will.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She reads last line flatly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Miss Ivory! Show some feeling! +Think how you feel when you read +those lines!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory.</span> I know how I feel [<i>impudently. +Then with some feeling.</i>] +Yes, father, I will. Cost me what it may, +I will, Mr. Inkwell!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Abandonment, Miss Ivory—abandonment—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>nods intelligently</i>]. Mr. +Inkwell! Mr. Ink—we—all—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory</span> [<i>rushing after Miss Ivory</i>]. +Wait—think—consider—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Inkwell and Ruler enter right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>takes her hand</i>]. Ah, My +dear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory</span> [<i>with bowed head</i>]. Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>in alarm, to Miss Ivory</i>]. My +dear—what is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Now, there's your line of "what +is it?" I tucked it in there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>goes left to Mr. Ruler. +Ivory is up center. Inkwell is right</i>]. +I can't keep my promise to you—Mr. +Ruler—please don't ask for an explanation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>excited, rushing up to Mr. +Ivory</i>]. What is it, Mr. Ivory?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory</span> [<i>in despair, taking Ruler's arm +for support</i>]. Oh—I—am broken-hearted—she +is going to marry Inkwell!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> No!—no!—not while I live!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory.</span> It must be! Come with me—I'll +tell you—alone!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> Not while I live!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. Mr. Ruler! Mr. Ruler! +You go out too easily! Wait! I remember +a precious line I cut out of one +of my last year's plays. It is perfectly +fresh! No novelty worn off and incontestably +original! "I am coming back."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>deferentially Ruler writes the +line</i>]. I am coming back—yes, sir. I +am coming back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> There is no, "yes, sir," in it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> No, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Do you wish to retire for a few +minutes and commit to memory? [<i>Ruler +repeats the line.</i>] Now that we are reaching +the climax I want as few interruptions +and references to the book as possible—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> I think I have it. [<i>All resume +former positions. Sud climbs on his +stool.</i>] Cue please, Mr. Ivory.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ivory</span> [<i>drags Ruler across to go out +right</i>]. Come with me—I'll tell you!—alone!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler.</span> Not while I live! I am coming +back! I am coming back!!!—I am +coming back!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exeunt Ivory and Ruler right. Sud +tiptoes up center to make sure Mrs. +Pencil is ready for her cue.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>to Miss Ivory</i>]. Now that +they have left us alone—my darling—let +me tell you how I have waited for +this moment—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>in despair and tears she +tries to rush by to right, but he catches +her</i>]. No, let me pass—now, now. I +have said yes, let it go at that—I cannot +talk now—not now—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit right weeping.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>in fury of jealousy opens +door and enters in rage</i>]. Coward! Villain!—I +have been listening behind that +door—all your false vows to me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>he tries to choke her</i>]. Don't +yell so!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>in ordinary tone</i>]. I +will yell!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>delighted</i>]. Of course, she will! +Shriek good, Mrs. Pencil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>shrieks</i>]. Ah! Ah! Ah! +Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>they struggle. Grabs Mrs. +Pencil to put his hand over her mouth</i>]. +Stop—! Stop!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud.</span> Tussle! Tussle! The audience +loves it!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They fight.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby.</span> But what did Inkwell do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>talks fast over shoulder to +Wouldby like a man in a fast auto talks +to another passing</i>]. Can't you tell. +Haven't decided yet! Explanation in +last act. No time now. Reaching climax +of play. Keep it up! Keep it +up!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>yelling</i>]. Oh! The treachery—perjury—You +are not fit to live! +I'll have my revenge—Revenge! Bing! +Bang! [<i>She grabs revolver from table +and shoots Inkwell. He falls back and +obligingly lies upon the table.</i>] I hate +you! I hate you! I hate you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>having heard the shot and +shrieks, runs in from the wing</i>]. Oh—who's +hurt?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pencil</span> [<i>turning and aiming revolver +at Miss Ivory</i>]. Don't come near +him or I'll shoot you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>enters from right</i>]. What's the +matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Ivory</span> [<i>screams at Ruler</i>]. <i>Don't</i> +move or she'll shoot <i>you</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruler</span> [<i>taking a revolver out of his +pocket aims it at Mrs. Pencil</i>]. Harm +her and I'll shoot <i>you</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Inkwell</span> [<i>who has come to in the meantime, +manages to get his own revolver out +of his pocket, he half raises himself from +his lying position on the table and aims +at Ruler, crying hoarsely</i>]. You thought +you could be my rival—the girl said she +would be mine! If you shoot the woman +she'll kill the girl. I'm going to save +the girl. Shoot and I'll kill <i>YOU</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Ivory</span> [<i>he enters from right and, +hearing these desperate words—takes revolver +from his pocket and aims at Inkwell! +Screams in fear and rage</i>]. Stop! +Save him or I'll shoot to kill! I'll shoot +to kill! I'll shoot to kill!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wouldby</span> [<i>thrilled and excited, cries +out</i>]. Who shoots?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sud</span> [<i>overcome with sudden realization, +jumps up, grabs his forehead</i>]. My God! +It's a deadlock!!! I don't know who +shoots!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Others.</span> Oh! Shoot the <i>AUTHOR</i>!!</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="ENTER_THE_HERO" id="ENTER_THE_HERO"></a>ENTER THE HERO</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Theresa Helburn</span></h3> + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1916, by Theresa Helburn.<br /> +Copyright, 1918, by Egmont Arens.<br /> +<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">Enter the Hero</span> was first produced in San Francisco by the St. Francis Little +Theater Players, on January 16th, 1918, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ruth Carey</span></td><td align='left'><i>Ruth Hammond</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Anne Carey</span></td><td align='left'><i>Helene Sullivan</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Harold Lawson</span> <i>Arthur Maitland</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Carey</span></td><td align='left'><i>Julia Deane</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> + +<p>Reprinted from No. 4, of the "Flying Stag Plays," published by Egmont Arens, +by special permission of Miss Helburn. The professional and amateur stage rights +on this play are strictly reserved by the author. Applications for permission to +produce the play should be made to Egmont Arens, 17 West 8th St., New York.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>ENTER THE HERO</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Theresa Helburn</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> + +<p>[<i>The scene presents an upstairs sitting +room in a comfortable house in a +small city. The wall on the spectator's +left is broken by a fireplace, and beyond +that a door leading into the hall. At the +back of the stage is a deep bay window +from which one may have a view up and +down the street. A door in the right wall +leads to Anne Carey's bedroom. The sitting +room, being Anne's particular property, +is femininely furnished in chintz. +A table desk with several drawers occupies +an important place in the room, +which is conspicuously rich in flowers.</i></p> + +<p><i>The curtain rises on an empty stage. +Ruth Carey, a pretty girl of eighteen +years, enters hurriedly, carrying a large +box; she wears a hat and coat.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> Oh, Anne, here's <i>another</i> box +of flowers! Anne, where are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice From Anne's Bedroom.</span> In here. +I thought you had gone out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth</span> [<i>opening door left</i>]. I was just +going when the expressman left these—and +I wanted to see them. [<i>Looking +into the bedroom.</i>] Oh, how pretty your +dress is. Turn round. Just adorable! +May I open these?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Voice.</span> Yes, but hurry. It's late.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth</span> [<i>throwing her sister a kiss</i>]. +You dear! It's almost like having a +fiancé of my own. Three boxes in two +days! He's adorably extravagant. Oh, +Anne, exquisite white roses! Come, look!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Anne Carey appears in the bedroom +door. She is a girl of twenty-two. +Her manner in this scene shows +nervousness and suppressed excitement.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Yes, lovely. Get a bowl, Ruth. +Quickly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> I will. Here's a card. [<i>She +hands Anne an envelope, goes to the +door, then stops.</i>] What does he say, +Anne? May I see?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Anne, who has read the card quickly +with a curious little smile, hands +it back to her without turning.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth</span> [<i>reading</i>]:</p> + +<p> +The red rose whispers of passion<br /> +And the white rose breathes of love;<br /> +Oh, the red rose is a falcon,<br /> +And the white rose is a dove.<br /> +<br /> +But I send you a cream-white rosebud<br /> +With a flush on its petal tips,<br /> +For the love that is purest and sweetest<br /> +Has a kiss of desire on the lips.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Oh, how beautiful! Did he make that up, +do you suppose? I didn't know he was +a real poet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>who has been pinning some of +the roses on her dress</i>]. Any one in love +is a poet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> It's perfectly beautiful! [<i>She +takes a pencil and little notebook out of +her pocket.</i>] May I copy it in my "Harold +Notebook"?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Your <i>what</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> I call it my "Harold Notebook." +I've put down bits of his letters +that you read me, the lovely bits that are +too beautiful to forget. Do you mind?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> You silly child!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> Here, you may see it.... +That's from the second letter he wrote +you from Rio Janeiro. I just couldn't +get over that letter. You know I made +you read it to me three times. It was +so—so delicate. I remembered this passage—see. +"A young girl seems to me +as exquisite and frail as a flower, and I +feel myself a vandal in desiring to pluck +and possess one. Yet, Anne, your face +is always before me, and I know now +what I was too stupid to realize before, +that it was you and you only, who made +life bearable for me last winter when I +was a stranger and alone." Oh, Anne—[<i>Sighing +rapturously.</i>] that's the sort of +love letters I've dreamed of getting. I +don't suppose I ever shall.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> [<i>still looking over the notebook +with her odd smile</i>]. Have you shown +this to any one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> Only to Caroline—in confidence. +[<i>Pauses to see how Anne will +take it.</i>] But really, Anne, every one +knows about Harold. You've told Madge +and Eleanor, and I'm sure they've told +the others. They don't say anything to +us, but they do to Caroline and she tells +me. [<i>Watching Anne's face.</i>] You're +not angry, are you, Anne?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Yes, rather. [<i>Then eagerly.</i>] +What do they say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> Oh, all sorts of things. Some +of them horrid, of course! You can't +blame them for being jealous. Here you +are having just the sort of experience +that any one of them would give their +eye teeth to have. <i>I'd</i> be jealous if you +weren't my sister. As it is, I seem to get +some of the glory myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>pleads, but disparaging</i>]. But +every girl has this experience sooner or +later.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> Oh, not in this way. Everything +that Harold does is beautiful, ideal. +Jane Fenwick showed me some of Bob's +letters. They were so dull, so prosaic! +All about his salary and the corn crop. +I was disgusted with them. So was she, +I think, when she saw Harold's letters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Oh, you showed them to Jane, +too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth</span> [<i>a bit frightened</i>]. No, really I +didn't. Caroline did. I lent her my notebook +once overnight, and she gave Jane +a peek—in the <i>strictest</i> confidence. Jane +really needed it. She was getting so +cocky about Bob. Girls are funny +things, aren't they?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>who has been keenly interested +in all of Ruth's gossip</i>]. What do you +mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> It isn't so much the man, as +the idea of a man—some one to dream +about, and to talk about. When I think +of getting engaged—I suppose I shall +get engaged some day—I never think of +being really, really kissed by a man—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> What do you think of?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> I always think of telling Caroline +about it, showing my ring to her and +to Madge. Oh, Madge is green with envy. +I believe she thought Harold sort of liked +her. [<i>Anne turns away.</i>] She was so +excited when she saw him in New York. +She said she would have got off the bus +and chased him, but he went into a +house.... Anne, why didn't you tell us—me, +at least—that Harold was back +from South America, before we heard it +from Madge?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Just because.... I wanted to +avoid all this.... It was hard enough to +have him within a few hours' distance and +know he could not get to me. But it +was easier when no one else knew. Don't +you understand?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> Yes, dear, of course I do—but +still—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>impatiently</i>]. Now, Ruth, it's +quarter past four. You promised—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> I'm going ... right straight +off ... unless—Oh, Anne, mayn't I +stay and have just one peek. I won't let +him see me, and then I'll run straight +away?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Oh, for heaven's sake, don't +be naughty and silly! Clear out now, +quickly, or—[<i>Changing her tone suddenly.</i>] +Ruth, dear, put yourself in my +place. Think how you would feel if you +were going to see the man you loved for +the first time. That's what it really is. +Think of it! Two years ago when he +went away we were just the merest +friends—and now—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> And now you're engaged to be +married! Oh, isn't it the most romantic +thing! Of course you want to be alone. +Forgive me. Oh, Anne, how excited you +must be!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>with rather histrionic intensity</i>]. +No, I'm strangely calm. And yet, Ruth, +I'm afraid, terribly afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> Why, what of?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>acting</i>]. I don't know ... of +everything ... of the unknown. All this +has been so wonderful, if anything should +happen I don't think I could bear it. I +think I should die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> Nonsense, dear, what can happen? +You're just on edge. Well, I'll be +off. I'll join Mother at Aunt Nellie's. +Give my love to Harold. You know I've +never called him anything but Mr. Lawson +to his face. Isn't that funny? Good-by, +dear. [<i>Throwing Anne a kiss.</i>] +You look so sweet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>her hands on Ruth's shoulders +for an impressive moment</i>]. Good-by, +Ruth. Good-by.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They kiss. Ruth goes. Left alone, +a complete change comes over +Anne. She drops the romantic attitude. +She is nervously determined. +She quickly arranges the +flowers, takes out the box, etc., +straightens the room, and surveys +herself rapidly in the mirror. +There is a sound of wheels outside. +Anne goes to the bay window and +looks out. Then she stands erect +in the grip of an emotion that is +more like terror than anticipation. +Hearing the sound of footsteps on +the stair she is panic-stricken and +about to bolt, but at the sound of +voices she pulls herself together +and stands motionless.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Man's Voice</span> [<i>outside</i>]. In here? All +right!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Harold Lawson enters, a well set +up, bronzed, rather commonplace +young man of about twenty-eight. +He sees no one on his entry, but as +he advances into the room, Anne +comes down from the bay window.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Hello, Miss Carey, how are +you? Splendid to see you again, after +all this time. [<i>Anne looks at him without +speaking, which slightly embarrasses +him.</i>] You're looking fine. How's your +mother—and little Ruth?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>slowly</i>]. Welcome home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Oh, thanks. It's rather nice +to be back in God's country. But it's not +for long this time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Are you going away again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Yes. I've another appointment. +This one in India, some big salt +mines. Not bad, eh? I made pretty +good in Brazil, they tell me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>nervously</i>]. Sit down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Thanks. Hot for September, +isn't it? Though I ought to be used to +heat by this time. Sometimes the thermometer +would run a hundred and eight +for a week on end. Not much fun, that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> No, indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>settling back comfortably to +talk about himself</i>]. You know I loathed +it down there at first. What with all the +foreigners and the rotten weather and +the bugs—thought I'd never get into the +swing. Wanted to chuck engineering for +any old job that was cool, but after a +while—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> How long have you been home?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> About three weeks. I'd +really been meaning to come out here +and have a look round my old haunts, +but there was business in New York, and +I had to go South and see my family—you +know how time flies. Then your +note came. It was mighty jolly of you +to ask me out here. By the way, how +did you know I was back?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. Madge Kennedy +caught sight of you in New York.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Did she really? How is little +Madge? And that odd brother of hers. +Is he just as much of a fool as ever? I +remember once he said to me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Oh, I didn't ask you here to +talk about Madge Kennedy's family.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>taken aback</i>]. No ... no, +of course, not. I—I've been wondering +just why you did ask me. You said you +wanted to talk to me about something.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>gently</i>]. Weren't you glad to +come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Why, of course I was. Of +course. And then your note fired my +curiosity—your asking me to come +straight to you before seeing any one else.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Aren't you glad to be here +with me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Why surely, of course, but—[<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> You see, people seemed to expect +you would come to see me first +of all. I rather expected it myself. +Don't you understand?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>very uncomfortably</i>]. No.... +I'm afraid I don't....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> From the way you acted before +you went away I thought you, yourself, +would want to see me first of all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Before I went away? What +do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> You know well enough what I +mean. The parties those last weeks—the +theater we went to—the beautiful +flowers you sent Mother—the letter—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> But—but—why, I was +going away. You and your people had +been awfully nice to me, a perfect +stranger in town. I was simply trying +<ins class="correction" title="original reads 'ot'">to</ins> do the decent thing. Good Lord! +You don't mean to say you thought—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>watching him very closely</i>]. +Yes, it's true, I thought—and every one +else thought—I've been waiting these +two years for you to come back.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She drops her face into her hands. +Her shoulders shake.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>jumping up</i>]. Great Heavens! +I never imagined—Why, Miss Carey, I—oh, +I'm terribly sorry! [<i>She continues +to sob.</i>] Please don't do that—please! +I'd better go away—I'll clear out—I'll +go straight off to India—I'll never +bother you again.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He seized his hat, and is making, +in a bewildered way, for the door, +when she intercepts him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> No. You mustn't go away!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> But what can I do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>striking a tragic attitude</i>]. +You mean to say you don't care at all—that +you have never cared?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Really, Miss Carey, I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> For <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'heaven't'">heaven's</ins> sake, don't call +me Miss Carey. Call me Anne.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Miss Carey.... Anne.... +I.... Oh, you'd better let me go—let +me get away before any one knows I'm +here—before they think—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> It's too late. They think already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Think what? What do you +mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Oh, this is terrible! Sit down, +Harold, and listen to me. [<i>She pushes +him into a chair and begins to talk very +rapidly, watching intently the effect of +her words upon him.</i>] You see, when +you went away, people began to say things +about us—you and me—about your caring. +I let them go on. In fact I believed +them. I suppose it was because +I wanted so much to believe them. Oh, +what a fool I've been! What a fool!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She covers her face with her hands. +He gets up intending vaguely to +comfort her, but she thinks he is +making another move to go, and +jumps to her feet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> And now you want to clear +out like a thief in the night, and leave +me to be laughed at! No, no, you can't +do that! You must help me. You've +hurt me to the very soul. You mustn't +humiliate me before the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> I'll do anything I can, Miss +Carey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Anne!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Anne, I mean. But how?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>after a moment's thought, as if +the idea had just come to her</i>]. You +must stay here. You must pretend for +a few days—for a week at most, that +we're engaged.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> I can't do that, you know. +Really, I can't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>going to him</i>]. Why not? Only +a little while. Then you'll go away to +India. We'll find it's been a mistake. +I'll break it off,—it will only be a pretense, +of course, but at least no one will +know what a fool I've been.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>after a moment's hesitation</i>]. +Miss Carey—Anne, I mean, I'll do anything +I can, but not that! A man can't +do that. You see, there's a girl, an English +girl, down in Brazil, I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Oh, a girl! Another! Well, +after all, what does that matter? Brazil +is a long way off. She need never know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> She might hear. You can't +keep things like this hid. No. I wouldn't +risk that. You'd better let me clear out +before your family gets home. No one +need ever know I've been here.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Again he makes a move toward the +door. Anne stands motionless.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> You can't go. You can't. It's +more serious than you imagine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Serious? What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Come here. [<i>He obeys. She +sits in a big chair, but avoids looking at +him. There is a delicate imitation of a +tragic actress in the way she tells her +story.</i>] I wonder if I can make you understand? +It means so much to me that +you should—so much! Harold, you +know how dull life is here in this little +town. You were glad enough to get away +after a year of it, weren't you? Well, +it's worse for a girl, with nothing to do +but sit at home—and dream—of you. +Yes, that's what I did, until, at last, when +I couldn't stand it any longer, I wrote +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>quickly</i>]. I never got the letter, +Miss Carey. Honor bright, I didn't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Perhaps not, but you answered +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Answered it? What are you +talking about?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Would you like to see your answer? +[<i>She goes to the desk, takes a +packet of letters out of a drawer, selects +one, and hands it to him.</i>] Here it is—your +answer. You see it's post-marked +Rio Janeiro.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>taking it wonderingly</i>]. This +does look like my writing. [<i>Reads.</i>] +"Anne, my darling—" I say, what does +this mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>reading</i>]. "I have your wonderful +letter. It came to me like rain +in the desert. Can it be true, Anne, that +you do care? I ask myself a hundred +times what I have done to deserve this. +A young girl seems to me as exquisite +and frail as a flower—" Great Scott! +You don't think <i>I</i> could have written such +stuff! What in the world!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>handing over another letter</i>]. +Here's the next letter you wrote me, from +the mine. It's a beautiful one. Read it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>tears it open angrily, and +reads</i>]. "I have been out in the night +under the stars. Oh, that you were here, +my beloved! It is easy to stand the dust +and the turmoil of the mine without you, +but beauty that I cannot share with you +hurts me like a pain—"</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He throws the letter on the table +and turns toward her, speechless.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>inexorably</i>]. Yes, that's an exceptionally +beautiful one. But there are +more—lots more. Would you like to see +them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> But I tell you, I never wrote +them. These aren't my letters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Whose are they, then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>walking up and down furiously</i>]. +God knows! This is some outrageous +trick. You've been duped, you +poor child. But we'll get to the bottom +of this. Just leave it to me. I'll get +detectives. I'll find out who's back of +it! I'll—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He comes face to face with her and +finds her looking quietly at him +with something akin to critical interest.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Good Lord. What's the matter +with me! You don't believe those letters. +You couldn't think I wrote them, +or you wouldn't have met me as you +did, quite naturally, as an old friend. +<i>You understand!</i> For heaven's sake, +make it clear to me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> I am trying to.... I told you +there had to be ... answers.... I was +afraid to send my letters to you, but +there had to be answers. [<i>Harold stares +at her.</i>] So I wrote them myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> You wrote them yourself?!?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> These? These very letters?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Yes. I had to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Good God! [<i>He gazes at +the litter of letters on the desk in stupefied +silence.</i>] But the handwriting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Oh, that was easy. I had the +letter you wrote to Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> And you learned to imitate +my handwriting?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>politely</i>]. It was very good +writing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>in sudden apprehension</i>]. No +one has seen these things,—have they?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> They arrived by mail.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> You mean people saw the envelopes. +Yes, that's bad enough.... +But you haven't shown them to any one? +[<i>At her silence he turns furiously upon +her.</i>] Have you?... Have you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>who enjoys her answer and its +effect upon him</i>]. Only parts—never a +whole letter. But it was such a pleasure +to be able to talk about you to some +one. My only pleasure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Good heavens! You told +people I wrote these letters? That we +were engaged?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> I didn't mean to, Harold. +Really, I didn't. But I couldn't keep it +dark. There were your telegrams.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> My telegrams?!?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes to desk and produces a +bundle of dispatches.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>brazen in her sincerity</i>]. You +used to wire me every time you changed +your address. You were very thoughtful, +Harold. But, of course, I couldn't +keep those secret like your letters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>standing helplessly, with the +telegrams loose in his fingers</i>]. My telegrams! +Good Lord! [<i>He opens one and +reads</i>.] "Leaving Rio for fortnight of +inspection in interior. Address care +Señor Miguel—" <i>My</i> telegrams!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He flings the packet violently on +the table, thereby almost upsetting +a bowl of roses which he hastens to +preserve.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> And then there were your flowers. +I see you are admiring them.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Harold withdraws as if the flowers +were charged with electricity.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> What flowers?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> These—these—all of them. +You sent me flowers every week while you +were gone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>overcome</i>]. Good God!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He has now reached the apex of his +amazement and becomes sardonic.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Yes. You were extravagant +with flowers, Harold. Of course I love +them, but I had to scold you about spending +so much money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Spending so much money? +And what did I say when you scolded +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>taken aback only for a moment +by his changed attitude</i>]. You sent me +a bigger bunch than ever before—and—wait +a minute—here's the card you +put in it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes to the same fatal desk and +produces a package of florists' +cards.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Are all those my cards too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>laughing a bit wildly</i>]. I'm +afraid I was a bit extravagant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Here's the one! You wrote: +"If all that I have, and all that I am, +is too little to lay before you, how can +these poor flowers be much?"</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> I wrote that? Very pretty—very. +I'd forgotten I had any such +knack at sentiments.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> And then, right away, you sent +me the ring.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>jumps, startled out of his sardonic +pose</i>]. Ring! What ring?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> My engagement ring. You +really were very extravagant that time, +Harold.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>looking fearfully at her +hands</i>]. But I don't see.... You're not +wearing...?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Not there—here, next to my +heart. [<i>She takes out a ring which hangs +on a chain inside her frock and presses it +to her lips. Looking at him deeply.</i>] I +adore sapphires, Harold.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A new fear comes into Harold's +eyes. He begins to humor her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Yes. Yes. Of course. Everyone +likes sapphires, Anne. It is a beauty. +Yes. [<i>He comes very close to her, and +speaks very gently, as if to a child.</i>] +You haven't shown your ring to any one, +have you, Anne?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Only to a few people—One or +two.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> A few people! Good heavens! +[<i>Then he controls himself, takes her hands +gently in his, and continues speaking, as +if to a child.</i>] Sit down, Anne; we must +talk this over a little,—very quietly, you +understand, very quietly. Now to begin +with, when did you first—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>breaks away from him with a +little laugh</i>]. No, I'm not crazy. Don't +be worried. I'm perfectly sane. I had +to tell you all this to show how serious +it was. Now you know. What are you +going to do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Do? [<i>He slowly straightens +up as if the knowledge of her sanity had +relieved him of a heavy load.</i>] I'm going +to take the next train back to New York.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> And leave me to get out of +this before people all alone?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> You got into it without my +assistance, didn't you? Great Scott, you +forged those letters in cold blood—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Not in cold blood, Harold. +Remember, I cared.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> I don't believe it. [<i>Accusingly.</i>] +You enjoyed writing those letters!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Of course I enjoyed it. It +meant thinking of you, talking of—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Rot! Not of me, really. +You didn't think I am really the sort of +person who could write that—that +drivel!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>hurt</i>]. Oh, I don't know. After +a while I suppose you and my dream got +confused.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> But it was the rankest—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Oh, I'm not so different from +other girls. We're all like that. [<i>Repeating +Ruth's phrase reminiscently.</i>] +We must have some one to dream about—to +talk about. I suppose it's because +we haven't enough to do. And then we +don't have any—any real adventures like—shop +girls.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>surprised at this bit of reality</i>]. +That's a funny thing to say!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Well, it's true. I know I went +rather far. After I got started I couldn't +stop. I didn't want to, either. It took +hold of me. So I went on and on and +let people think whatever they wanted. +But if you go now and people find out +what I've done, they'll think I'm really +mad—or something worse. Life will be +impossible for me here, don't you see—impossible. +[<i>Harold is silent.</i>] But if +you stay, it will be so easy. Just a day +or two. Then you will have to go to +India. Is that much to ask? [<i>Acting.</i>] +And you save me from disgrace, from +ruin!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Harold remains silent, troubled.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>becoming impassioned</i>]. You +must help me. You <i>must</i>. After I've +been so frank with you, you can't go +back on me now. I've never in my life +talked to any one like this—so openly. +You <i>can't</i> go back on me! If you leave +me here to be laughed at, mocked at by +every one, I don't know what I shall do. +I shan't be responsible. If you have any +kindness, any chivalry.... Oh, for God's +sake, Harold, help me, help me!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Kneels at his feet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> I don't know.... I'm horribly +muddled.... All right, I'll stay!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Good! Good! Oh, you are +fine! I knew you would be. Now everything +will be so simple. [<i>The vista opens +before her.</i>] We will be very quiet here +for a couple of days. We won't see many +people, for of course it isn't announced. +And then you will go ... and I will +write you a letter....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>disagreeably struck by the +phrase</i>]. Write me a letter? What for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>ingenuously</i>]. Telling you that +I have been mistaken. Releasing you +from the engagement ... and you will +write me an answer ... sad but manly ... reluctantly +accepting my decision....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Oh, I am to write an answer, +sad but manly—Good God! Suppose +you don't release me after all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Don't be silly, Harold. I +promise. Can't you trust me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Trust you? [<i>His eyes travel +quickly from the table littered with letters +and dispatches to the flowers that +ornament the room, back to the table and +finally to the ring that now hangs conspicuously +on her breast. She follows +the look and instinctively puts her hand +to the ring.</i>] Trust you? By Jove, no, +I don't trust you! This is absurd, I don't +stay another moment. Say what you will +to people. I'm off. This is final.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>who has stepped to the window</i>]. +You can't go now. I hear Mother +and Ruth coming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> All the more reason. [<i>He +finds his hat.</i>] I bolt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>blocking the door</i>]. You can't +go, Harold! Don't corner me. I'll fight +like a wildcat if you do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Fight?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Yes. A pretty figure you'll +cut if you bolt now. They'll think you a +cad—an out and out cad! Haven't they +seen your letters come week by week, and +your presents? And you have written +to Mother, too—I have your letter. +There won't be anything bad enough to +say about you. They'll say you jilted me +for that English girl in Brazil. It will be +true, too. And it will get about. She'll +hear of it, I'll see to that—and then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> But it's a complete lie! I +can explain—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> You'll have a hard time explaining +your letters and your presents—and +your ring. There's a deal of evidence +against you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> See here, are you trying to +blackmail me? Oh, this is too ridiculous!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> They're coming! I hear them +on the stairs! What are you going to +tell them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> The truth. I must get clear +of all this. I tell you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>suddenly clinging to him</i>]. No, +no, Harold! Forgive me, I was just testing +you. I will get you out of this. +Leave it to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>struggling with her</i>]. No, I +won't leave anything to you, <i>ever</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>still clinging tightly</i>]. Harold, +remember I am a woman—and I love +you.</p> + + +<p class="salute">[<i>This brings him up short a moment +to wonder, and in this moment +there is a knock at the door.</i>]</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>abandoning Harold</i>]. Come +in. [<i>There is a discreet pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Carey's Voice</span> [<i>off stage</i>]. May +we come in?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Yes!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Harold, who has moved toward the +door, meets Mrs. Carey as she +enters. She throws her arms about +his neck and kisses him warmly. +She is followed by Ruth.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Carey.</span> Harold! My door boy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth</span> [<i>clutching his arm</i>]. Hello, +Harold. I am so glad.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Harold, temporarily overwhelmed +by the onslaught of the two women, +is about to speak, when Anne interrupts +dramatically.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span>. Wait a moment, Mother. Before +you say anything more I must tell +you that Harold and I are no longer +engaged!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mrs. Carey and Ruth draw away +from Harold in horror-struck surprise.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Carey.</span> No longer engaged? +Why.... What...?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Really, Mrs. Carey, I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>interrupts, going to her +mother</i>]. Mother, dear, be patient with +me, trust me, I beg of you—and please, +please don't ask me any questions. Harold +and I have had a very hard—a very +painful hour together. I don't think I +can stand any more.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She is visibly very much exhausted, +gasping for breath.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Carey.</span> Oh, my poor child, what +is it? What has he done?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She supports Anne on one side while +Ruth hurries to the other.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Really, Mrs. Carey, I think +I can explain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> No, Harold, there's no use trying +to explain. There are some things +a woman feels, about which she cannot +reason. I know I am doing right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>desperately</i>]. Mrs. Carey, I +assure you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>as if on the verge of a nervous +crisis</i>]. Oh, please, <i>please</i>, Harold, don't +protest any more. I am not blaming +you. Understand, Mother, I am not +blaming him. But my decision is irrevocable. +I thought you understood. I +beg you to go away. You have just time +to catch the afternoon express.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> Nonsense, Anne, you must +let me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>wildly</i>]. No, no, Harold, it is +finished! Don't you understand? Finished! +[<i>She abandons the support of +her mother and Ruth and goes to the +table.</i>] See, here are your letters. I am +going to burn them. [<i>She throws the +packet into the fire.</i>] All your letters—[<i>She +throws the dispatches into the fire.</i>] +Don't, please, continue this unendurable +situation any longer. Go, I beg of you, +go!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She is almost hysterical.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold.</span> But I tell you I must—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>falling back in her mother's +arms</i>]. Make him go, Mother! Make +him go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Carey.</span> Yes, go! Go, sir! Don't +you see you are torturing the child. I +insist upon your going.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> Yes, she is in a dreadful state.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Here Mrs. Carey and Ruth fall into +simultaneous urgings.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harold</span> [<i>who has tried in vain to make +himself heard</i>]. All right, I'm going, I +give up!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He seizes his hat and rushes out, +banging the door behind him. +Anne breaks away from her mother +and sister, totters rapidly to the +door and calls down gently.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> Not in anger, I beg of you, +Harold! I am not blaming you. Good-by.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The street door is heard to bang. +Anne collapses in approved tragedy +style.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>gasping</i>]. Get some water, +Ruth. I shall be all right in a moment.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Ruth rushes into the bedroom.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Carey.</span> Oh, my dear child, calm +yourself. Mother is here, dear. She will +take care of you. Tell me, dear, tell me.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Ruth returns with the water. Anne +sips a little.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne.</span> I will, Mother—I will ... +everything ... later. [<i>She drinks.</i>] +But now I must be alone. Please, dear, +go away ... for a little while. I must +be alone [<i>Rising and moving to the fire.</i>] +with the ruin of my dreams.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She puts her arms on the chimney +shelf and drops her head on them.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ruth.</span> Come, Mother! Come away!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Carey.</span> Yes, I am coming. We +shall be in the next room, Annie, when +you want us. Right here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>as they go out, raises her head +and murmurs</i>]. Dust and ashes! +Dust and ashes!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As soon as they have gone, Anne +straightens up slowly. She pulls +herself together after the physical +strain of her acting. Then she +looks at the watch on her wrist +and sighs a long triumphant sigh. +Her eye falls on the desk and she +sees the package of florists' cards +still there. She picks them up, returns +with them to the fire and is +about to throw them in, when her +eye is caught by the writing on one. +She takes it out and reads it. Then +she takes another—and another. +She stops and looks away dreamily. +Then slowly, she moves back +to the desk, drops the cards into a +drawer and locks it. She sits +brooding at the desk and the open +paper before her seems to fascinate +her. As if in a dream she picks +up a pencil. A creative look comes +into her eyes. Resting her chin +on her left arm, she begins slowly +to write, murmuring to herself.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> [<i>reading as she writes</i>]. "Anne, +my dearest.... I am on the train ... +broken, shattered.... Why have you +done this to me ... why have you darkened +the sun ... and put out the stars +... put out the stars?... Give me another +chance, Anne.... I will make good.... I promise you.... For God's sake, +Anne, don't shut me out of your life utterly.... +I cannot bear it.... I...."</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>The Curtain<br /> +has fallen slowly as she writes.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SHEPHERD_IN_THE_DISTANCE" id="THE_SHEPHERD_IN_THE_DISTANCE"></a>THE SHEPHERD IN THE DISTANCE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Pantomime</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Holland Hudson</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Frank Shay.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Shepherd in the Distance</span> was first produced by the Washington Square +Players, at the Bandbox Theatre, New York City, on the night of March 26, 1915, +with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Princess</span></td><td align='left'><i>Frances Paine</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Attendant</span></td><td align='left'><i>Beatrice Savelli</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Shepherd</span></td><td align='left'><i>Robert Locher</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Wazir</span></td><td align='left'><i>Arvid Paulson</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Vizier</span></td><td align='left'><i>John Alan Houghton</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ghurri-wurri</span> [<i>the Beggar</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Harry Day</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Goat</span></td><td align='left'><i>E. J. Ballantine</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' rowspan='2'><span class="smcap">Slaves of the Princess</span> <big>{</big></td><td align='left'><i>Josephine Niveson</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Edwina Behre</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Maker of Sounds</span></td><td align='left'><i>Robert Edwards</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">Produced under the direction of William Pennington. Scenes and costumes designed<br /> +by Robert Locker.</p> + +<p> </p> +<h4>PROGRAM</h4> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>THE PERSONS:</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Princess.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Attendant.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Slaves.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Wazir</span> [<i>her guardian</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Vizier.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Nubian.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Shepherd.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Goat.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Ghurri-wurri.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">The Maker of Sounds.</span><br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">The Shepherd in the Distance</span> is published for the first time. The editors are +indebted to Mr. Holland Hudson for permission to include it in this volume. The +professional and amateur stage rights on this pantomime are strictly reserved by the +author. Applications for permission to produce the pantomime should be made to +Frank Shay, Care Stewart & Kidd Company, Cincinnati, Ohio.</p> + + + +<p> </p> +<h4>THE ACTION:</h4> + +<p class="noidt"> +I. The Princess beholds The Shepherd in the Distance and goes in quest of him.<br /> +II. Ghurri-Wurri, enraged by the Princess' meager alms, swears vengeance.<br /> +III. He reveals her destination to the Wazir.<br /> +IV. Pursuit ensues.<br /> +V. The Princess meets The Shepherd in the Distance. Her capture is averted by the faithful Goat.<br /> +VI. The Goat's long head evolves a means of rescuing The Shepherd from the cruel Wazir.<br /> +VII. The Princess joins The Shepherd in the Distance.<br /> +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<h4>THE STORY.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h4> + +<p>Of the Princess, we know only that she was fair and slender as the lily, that somehow +the fat and stupid Wazir became her guardian, and that he neglected her utterly +and played chess eternally in the garden with his almost-equally-stupid Vizier. Is +it any wonder she was bored?</p> + +<p>One afternoon the Princess called for her ivory telescope, and, placing it to her +eye, sought relief from the deadly ennui which her guardian caused. In the Distance +she discerned a Shepherd, playing upon his pipe for the dancing of his favorite Goat. +While he played the Princess marveled at his comeliness. She had never seen before +a man so pleasing in face and person. At the end of his tune it seemed to her that +the Shepherd turned and beckoned to her. She dared watch him no longer, lest her +guardian observe her.</p> + +<p>When the Wazir, the Vizier and the Nubian were deep in their afternoon siesta, +the Princess stole out of the garden with her personal retinue and her small, but +precious hope chests, and set forth toward the Distance.</p> + +<p>Now on the highway between the foreground and the Distance lived a wretched +and worthless beggar who had even lost his name and was called Ghurri-Wurri because +he looked absolutely as miserable as that. He pretended to be blind and wore dark +spectacles. The greatest affliction of his life was that his dark spectacles prevented +him from inspecting the coins that fell in his palm, and he received more than his +share of leaden counterfeits.</p> + +<p>When Ghurri-Wurri observed the approach of the Princess and her retinue he +reasoned from the richness of their attire that alms would be plentiful and large and +he fawned and groveled before them. The Princess was generous, but she was also +in haste, so bade her attendant give him the first coin that came to hand, and hurried +on.</p> + +<p>Ghurri-Wurri's rage knew no bounds. He wept, he stamped, he shook his fists, +he railed, and he cursed. Then, perceiving the Princess' destination, he made haste +to notify her guardian. The Wazir would not believe him at first and the beggar +would have lost his head if he had not happened on the Princess' telescope and +placed it in the Wazir's hand.</p> + +<p>Gazing toward the Distance, the Wazir saw the Princess and her retinue nearing +their destination. He lost his temper and did all of the undignified things which +Ghurri-Wurri had done. Then, with the Vizier and the Nubian, he set forth in +pursuit, forcing the reluctant Ghurri-Wurri to guide them. They ran like the wind, +till the beggar gasped and staggered, only to be jerked to his feet and forced on +by the implacable Vizier, who was cruel as well as stupid.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the Princess arrived in the Distance. The Shepherd, who was as wise +as he was comely, had proper regard for her rank and danced in her honor to his +own piping. They had scarcely spoken to each other when the faithful Goat warned +them of the furious approach of the raging Wazir. The Goat carried the Princess +to a place of safety on his back while the Shepherd stayed to delay her pursuers. +Of the Nubian he made short work indeed, but the Vizier overcame him with his +great scimiter and they led him captive to the garden, leaving Ghurri-Wurri cursing +on the sands.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the garden, the Wazir ordered the Shepherd bound in chains and went +on with his chess game. The Shepherd, in a gesture of despair, came upon the +Princess' telescope and, seeking some ray of hope, gazed into the Distance. Here he +saw the Princess and his faithful Goat, who, he perceived, had invented a plan for +his deliverance.</p> + +<p>Soon the Princess returned to the garden, disguised as a wandering dancer. +She danced before the Wazir and pleased him so much that he bade her come nearer. +She did so, and bound the Vizier's arms with a scarf, which so amused the Wazir +that he laughed loud and long. Then she bound the Wazir's arms in the same +manner and it was the Vizier's turn to laugh. Into their laughing mouths she thrust +two poisoned pills so that in another instant they fell over, quite dead, amongst the +chessmen.</p> + +<p>The omnivorous Goat delivered the Shepherd from his chains with his strong teeth +and they all returned to the Distance, where they still dwell in more-than-perfect +bliss and may be discerned through an ivory telescope any fine afternoon.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> A synopsis for readers only.</p></div> + + +<p> </p> +<h4>CONCERNING THE SCENERY.</h4> + +<p>In the original production by The Washington Square Players, <span class="smcap">The Shepherd in +the Distance</span> was played in front of backgrounds of black velvet. The garden +scene consisted of a black velvet drop about half-way between the curtain and back-wall, +upon which a decorative white design merely suggesting the garden and its +gate was appliquéd. This drop was made in three sections, the middle one hung +on a separate set of lines so that it could be raised to show the "Distance" (as seen +through the telescope) without disturbing the rest of the scene.</p> + +<p>The "Distance" consisted of a velvet drop hung slightly behind the middle section +of the garden scene, on the middle of which two large, white concentric circles were +appliquéd around a circular opening about five feet in diameter. The bottom of the +opening was about eighteen inches above the stage. Behind this stood a platform +just large enough to hold four characters at one time. Black masking drapes were +provided at both sides of the stage and behind the platform.</p> + +<p>The Prologue, Scenes II, IV, V, the first part of Scene VII and the Epilogue were +all played before a plain velvet drop hung a few feet upstage of the curtain line.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Shepherd in the Distance</span> has also been produced in colors very effectively +by the Hollywood Community Theatre, at Hollywood, California. There is no +reason why any highly decorative treatment of scenery and costuming will not +enhance the production if it be well planned and consistent throughout.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<h4>IMPORTANT PROPERTIES.</h4> + +<p>The properties consist principally of a small chess table with most of the chessmen +glued on, two stools, a telescope, a balloon and papier maché chain which are employed +as a ball and chain, a very large Chinese crash cymbal for the stage manager's use, +and such personal properties as occur in the text.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<h4>COSTUMES AND MAKE-UP.</h4> + +<p>Whatever scheme is selected for the scenery, the costumes and make-up should be +consistent with it. In the original production, all of the characters but the Nubian +were made up completely with clown white or "Plexo," the eyebrows and eyes outlined +in black and mouths rouged but slightly. No unwhitened flesh was visible +at all.</p> + +<p>The Princess wore a white satin pseudo-Oriental costume with stiff ruffs at the +collar, wrists and knees, the trousers not gathered at the ankles, a flat close-fitting +turban with a number of ornaments and a hanging veil, and white slippers. In the +dance in Scene VI she used a long black gauze scarf and a white one. Her attendant +wore a similar costume of cheaper material, an unornamented turban and black +slippers. Her slaves were also similarly garbed, in cotton, but with bulkier turbans, +and baggy trousers, gathered at the ankles.</p> + +<p>The Wazir, armed with a preposterous "corporation," wore baggy white trousers, +gathered at the ankles, a sleeveless vest with wide, horizontal black-and-white stripes, +a white cloak hanging from his shoulders which terminated in a large black tassel, +a turban, a beard made of several lengths of black portière cord sewed to white +gauze, and white pointed shoes. His bare arms were whitened, his eyebrows were +short, thick and high up on his forehead, and he carried a black snuff-box.</p> + +<p>The Vizier's white trousers were not so full as the Wazir's; his tight white vest had +tight white sleeves; his cloak was shorter and without a tassel. His white turban, +however, was decorated with antennæ of white milliner's wire. He affected high +arching eyebrows, a long pointed nose, a drooping mustache, a disdainful mouth, +carried a white wooden scimiter about four feet long with a black handle and wore +bells on his pointed white shoes.</p> + +<p>The Nubian wore black tights and shirt, black slippers and a white skull cap and +breech-clout. The rest of him, excepting his eyes and mouth, which were whitened, +was a symphony in burnt cork.</p> + +<p>The Shepherd wore white, knee-length trunks, frayed at the ends, a little drapery +about the upper man, slippers and a cap. His body was whitened profusely and he +carried a tiny flute.</p> + +<p>The Goat wore a white furry skin, horns, and foot and hand coverings resembling +hoofs. His make-up approached the animal's face as nearly as possible.</p> + +<p>Ghurri-Wurri wore tattered white baggy trousers, vest and cloak, a turban and +black goggles.</p> + +<p>The Maker of Sounds was garbed in an all-enveloping white burnous and a white +skull cap.</p> + +<p> </p> +<h4>A FEW STAGE DIRECTIONS.</h4> + +<p>Left and right, in this text, refer to the actor's, not the spectator's, point of view. +The action of the piece is meant to be two-dimensional; the actors are to perform in +profile as far as possible; except when registry of facial expression is important the +action should be parallel with the back drop.</p> + +<p>The entire action must be rhythmical and the rhythms should be used as definite +themes, one for the Princess and her retinue, another for the Wazir, etc. The performance +should be extremely rapid and must never drag. The cast should direct +special attention to the comic features, and the director to the pictorial elements +of the piece. The director may consider the performance as an animated poster +which moves rapidly from design to design.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE SHEPHERD IN THE DISTANCE</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Pantomime</p> +<p class="alignright">By Holland Hudson</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> + +<h4>PROLOGUE.</h4> + +<p>[<i>The curtain rises on a plain drop curtain. The Maker of Sounds enters with his +arms full of instruments, crosses the scene and sits with his back against one side of +the proscenium, outside the curtain line. He tries out all his instruments, wind, +string, percussion and "traps." He yawns. He becomes impatient and raps on the +stage.</i>]</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="5" summary="" width="90%"> +<colgroup><col width="20%" /><col width="80%" /></colgroup> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal Crash</td><td align='left'>The lights go out</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The drop is lifted in the darkness</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal Crash</td><td align='left'>The lights are turned on</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p> </p> + +<h4>SCENE I.</h4> + +<p>[<i>The Wazir's garden. Discovered left to right, the Nubian, standing with folded +arms, the Vizier, seated at the chess table, playing with the Wazir. At the other +side of the stage, the Princess, her attendant, her two slaves. All stand motionless +until set in action by the Maker of Sounds.</i>]</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="5" summary="" width="90%"> +<colgroup><col width="20%" /><col width="80%" /></colgroup> +<tr><td align='center'><i>The Music</i></td><td align='center'><i>The Pantomime</i>, <i>etc.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>Tap—on Chinese wood block</td><td align='left' valign='top'><i>Nubian</i> unfolds his arms</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>He salaams</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>Resumes original pose</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> moves a chessman</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> moves a chessman</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> moves a chessman</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> picks up <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'snuff-pox'">snuff-box</ins></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>Opens it</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>Offers Vizier snuff</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> takes a pinch</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sand blocks</td><td align='left'>Sniffs it</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> sneezes</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'>Sneezes again</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>No sound</td><td align='left'>Sneezes again</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> sneezes synchronously with Vizier's paroxysms</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> returns snuff-box</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> puts it away</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bell</td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> yawns</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>Signals her attendant</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Attendant</i> picks up telescope</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>Hands it to Princess</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Wind instrument</td><td align='left' valign='top'><i>Princess</i> uses telescope</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left' valign='top'> [The middle portion of the back drop is lifted to +show the "Distance" in which the <i>Shepherd</i> is +discovered piping for the <i>Goat's</i> dancing.]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>Stringed instrument</td><td align='left' valign='top'><i>The Shepherd</i> sees the Princess, stops piping, and +declares his adoration across the distance. He +beckons her to join him.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> promises to do so.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'> [The lifted portion of the drop is lowered again. +The "Distance" vanishes.]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> signals to her retinue</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Attendant</i> relays the signal</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Slaves</i> stoop.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>Lift the hope chests to their shoulders</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chord on stringed instrument</td><td align='left' valign='top'><i>Princess and retinue</i> take one step downstage</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Treble chord</td><td align='left'>All lean forward, watching Wazir</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> and <i>Vizier</i> stand up</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'>They glare at Princess</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap on wood block</td><td align='left'>They sit</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chord</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> yawns</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chord</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> yawns</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chord</td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> yawns</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chord</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> nods</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chord</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> nods</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chord</td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> drops on one knee</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Treble chord</td><td align='left'><i>Princess and retinue</i> lean forward</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chord</td><td align='left'>They take one step</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'> [A continuation of this business takes them off at the left]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The lights go out</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'> [In the darkness. <i>Princess and retinue</i> cross to +right of stage, ready for Scene II]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The plain drop is lowered</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>The lights come up</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<p> </p> +<h4>SCENE II.</h4> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="5" summary="" width="90%"> +<colgroup><col width="20%" /><col width="80%" /></colgroup> +<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>Tambourine jingles</td><td align='left' valign='top'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> discovered above at center, with his +dark glasses pushed up on his forehead, counting his money.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap on piece of crockery</td><td align='left'>He finds a bad coin</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sand blocks</td><td align='left'>Bites it</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap crockery</td><td align='left'>Throws it away</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Begins the Princess rhythms on Chinese wood block</td><td align='left' valign='top'>Hears the <i>Princess and retinue</i> approaching</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>[Telegraphically expressed it is ... ... ... ... Musically, accented triplets, common time, <i>presto</i>]</td> +<td align='left'>He pulls glasses over his eyes<br /><br /><br />He grovels</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Princess rhythm continues</td><td align='left'><i>Princess and retinue</i> enter from the right</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>They pass by Ghurri-Wurri without pause</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> runs ahead and prostrates himself before the Princess</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Princess' retinue</i> halts</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> signals to attendant</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Attendant</i> signals to nearest slave</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Slave</i> proffers chest</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap, Tap, Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Attendant</i> opens it, takes coin, closes it</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>Gives coin to Princess</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap on crockery</td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> drops coin in beggar's hand</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Princess rhythm</td><td align='left'><i>Princess and retinue</i> exit at the left</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Begin drum roll<br /><i>pp. cresc. to ff.</i></td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> looks at coin, scrambles to his feet, +looks after Princess, shakes his fists, starts to the right, turns, shakes his fist again, exits at right, raging</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights out</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>In the darkness Ghurri-Wurri crosses to left of stage, ready for Scene III</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The drop is lifted</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights up</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> +<h4>SCENE III.</h4> + +<p class="center">[The Wazir's Garden as in Scene I]</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="5" summary="" width="90%"> +<colgroup><col width="20%" /><col width="80%" /></colgroup> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chords</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i>, <i>Vizier</i> and <i>Nubian</i> asleep as before</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap on drum</td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> enters at the left</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap on drum</td><td align='left'>Prostrates himself before Wazir</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chord</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir and court</i> sleep on</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap on drum</td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> again prostrates himself</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bass chord</td><td align='left'><i>The Court</i> sleeps on</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> slams himself down hard</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i>, <i>Vizier</i>, <i>Nubian</i> awake</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum roll</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> shakes his fist at the beggar</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Wood-block tap</td><td align='left'>Signals Vizier</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sand blocks</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> runs thumb along his scimiter blade</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> retreats to the right</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>He stumbles over the telescope</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap, tap</td><td align='left'>He picks it up and hands it to the Wazir</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> points to the "Distance."</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>The Wazir</i> uses the telescope</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Princess rhythm</td><td align='left'>The "Distance" is revealed as in Scene I</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Princess and retinue</i> are seen traveling [across the platform from right to left]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>The Wazir</i> lowers the telescope</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The "Distance" vanishes as in Scene I</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> stamps his foot</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum roll</td><td align='left'>He shakes his fists, first at the distance, then off left</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>Points at Ghurri-Wurri</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> seizes Ghurri-Wurri by the scruff of the neck</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> points off left with his scimiter</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Wazir rhythm on wood-drum [Telegraphically stated ... ... etc.<br /> +Musically, accented eighth notes in 2/4 time, <i>presto</i>]</td> +<td align='left'><i>The Court</i> <i>and</i> <i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> begin to run, <i>Nubian</i> +first, then <i>Ghurri-Wurri</i>, then <i>Vizier</i>, then +<i>Wazir</i>. The running is entirely vertical in +movement, no ground being covered at all.<br /> +Lights out<br /> +[In the darkness, the runners move downstage without +losing step. A plain drop is lowered behind them]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash<br /> +Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights on</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p> </p> +<h4>SCENE IV.</h4> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="5" summary="" width="90%"> +<colgroup><col width="20%" /><col width="80%" /></colgroup> +<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>Wazir rhythm, <i>crescendo</i> and <i>acceleramento</i></td><td align='left' valign='top'>The runners increase their speed throughout the scene</td></tr> + <tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> slips to his knees,</td></tr> + <tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i>, without losing a step, jerks him back on his feet</td></tr> + <tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i>, pointing left, resumes running</td></tr> + <tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> points left</td></tr> + <tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>When the runners have reached their maximum speed</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left' valign='top'>The lights go out</td></tr> + <tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>In the darkness the <i>Wazir's court</i> and <i>Ghurri-Wurri exit and take their places at the right ready for Scene V</i></td></tr> + <tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>The Shepherd</i> and <i>Goat</i> take their places</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights up</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> +<h4>SCENE V.</h4> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="5" summary="" width="90%"> +<colgroup><col width="20%" /><col width="80%" /></colgroup> +<tr><td align='left'>Wind instrument</td><td align='left'>[A plain drop]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>The Shepherd</i> is discovered well to the left, piping for the Goat</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Goat</i> is dancing</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Begin Princess rhythm</td><td align='left'><i>Goat</i> stops to listen, looks off to the right</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Shepherd</i> looks to the right</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Goat</i> crosses to extreme right, bows</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Princess and retinue</i> enter</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>They halt</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>The Shepherd</i> kneels to the Princess, then dances for her</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Stringed instrument</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum roll <i>pp.</i> crescendo</td><td align='left'><i>The Goat</i> becomes alarmed</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>All</i> turn and look to the right</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Goat</i>, on all fours, offers his back to the Princess</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Shepherd</i> induces</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> to sit on Goat's back</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Princess rhythm</td><td align='left'><i>Goat</i> exits, followed by Princess and retinue</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Shepherd</i> folds his arms</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Wazir rhythm</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir's Court</i> and <i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> enter from the right</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>They halt</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> points to Shepherd</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> brandishes his scimiter</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum roll</td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> approaches Shepherd</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> falls</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>Drum roll<br /> <i>Crescendo</i><br /> to</td> +<td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> shakes his fists<br /> +Points at Shepherd<br /> +<i>Vizier</i> attacks Shepherd with scimiter<br /> +<i>Shepherd</i> grasps scimiter<br /> +They struggle, conventionally, one, two, three, four, five, six</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'><i>The Shepherd</i> falls</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum roll</td><td align='left'><i>The Vizier</i> waves his scimiter aloft</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum roll</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> exults</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> rises</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> points to the right</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> points at Shepherd with scimiter</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> seizes the Shepherd</td></tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'>Wazir rhythm</td> + <td align='left'><i>Wazir's Court</i> and <i>Shepherd</i> exit at the right, ignoring + Ghurri-Wurri, Nubian and Shepherd first, then Vizier, then Wazir. [All cross behind the drop to left of stage + ready for Scene VI]</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> stamps his foot</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum roll</td><td align='left'>Shakes his fists after them</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum roll</td><td align='left'>Runs to left and shakes his fists at the Princess</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum roll</td><td align='left'>Runs to right and shakes them at the Wazir</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Runs to center and shakes them at the audience</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights out</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Ghurri-Wurri</i> exits</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The drop is raised</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights on</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p> </p> + +<h4>SCENE VI.</h4> + +<p class="center">[The Wazir's garden. No characters on scene]</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="5" summary="" width="90%"> +<colgroup><col width="20%" /><col width="80%" /></colgroup> +<tr><td align='left'>Wazir rhythm</td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> enters from left, holding the Shepherd</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The <i>Wazir</i> and <i>Vizier</i> follow</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> takes his seat, smirking</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> orders Shepherd thrown down at the right</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> complies</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> orders Nubian off right</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Wazir rhythm, fast</td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> hurries out</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Wazir rhythm, slow</td><td align='left'>Reënters, staggering under a ball and chain [the chain of papier maché and the ball a balloon]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'>Drops these beside the Shepherd</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Clank, clank</td><td align='left'>Rivets chain to Shepherd's leg</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>Rises</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> orders Nubian off, left</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Wazir rhythm</td><td align='left'><i>Nubian</i> exits left</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> sits</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> moves a chessman</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> moves a chessman</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Shepherd</i>, in a gesture of despair, finds the telescope</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>He looks into the "Distance"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'> [The "Distance" is shown as in Scene I]</td></tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'>Stringed music</td> + <td align='left'><i>Princess</i> and <i>Goat</i> discovered in conference. Goat has an +idea. He points to the Shepherd, then to the Wazir, then +to the Princess and executes an ancient dance movement +which is contemporaneously described as the "shimmy"</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>The Princess</i> claps her hands and exits, followed by the Goat</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Shepherd</i> lowers the telescope</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'> [The "Distance" vanishes]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Shepherd</i> is puzzled</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Stringed music</td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> enters from the left, veiled and carrying a scarf in her hands</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Goat</i> enters with her, goes at once to the Shepherd</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> poses at center</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> and <i>Vizier</i> turn, smirking</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> dances</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> leers and strokes his beard</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> ends dance beside Vizier</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Chords, agitato</td><td align='left'>She ties his arms with her scarf</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sand blocks</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> is convulsed with laughter</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Chords</td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> binds Wazir's arms with her veil</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sand blocks</td><td align='left'><i>Vizier</i> is convulsed with laughter</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Princess rhythm on wood drum</td><td align='left'><i>The Attendant</i> enters from the left with a box on which a skull and cross-bones are conspicuous</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> takes two pills from the box</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>She pops them into her prisoners' open mouths</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Princess rhythm</td><td align='left'><i>The Attendant</i> exits as she came</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sand blocks</td><td align='left'><i>Wazir</i> and <i>Vizier</i> swallow vigorously</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'>They lay their heads upon the chess table and die</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> beckons to the Shepherd</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Shepherd</i> points to his fetters</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'><i>Goat</i> attacks the ball and chain</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drum crash</td><td align='left'>He "bites" the ball [bursts the balloon]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tap</td><td align='left'>He "bites" the chain.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>String music</td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i>, <i>Shepherd</i> and <i>Goat</i> dance in a circle</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights out</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> and <i>Shepherd</i> and <i>Goat</i> ready at left for next scene</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The drop is lowered</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights up</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p> </p> +<h4>SCENE VII.</h4> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="5" summary="" width="90%"> +<colgroup><col width="20%" /><col width="80%" /></colgroup> +<tr><td align='left'>String music</td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> and <i>Shepherd</i> dance across followed by the <i>Goat</i>, who is playing on the Shepherd's pipe</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><i>Princess</i> and <i>Shepherd</i>, behind the drop take their places on the platform</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights out</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'> [The drop is lifted]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights on</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'> [The Wazir's garden with the middle section of the drop lifted to show the "Distance"]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>String music</td><td align='left'><i>Shepherd</i> and <i>Princess</i> discovered in the "Distance" posed in a kiss</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights out</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'> [The drop is lowered]</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cymbal crash</td><td align='left'>Lights on</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>The Maker of Sounds rises, yawns cavernously, bows very slightly and exits</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOCCACCIOS_UNTOLD_TALE" id="BOCCACCIOS_UNTOLD_TALE"></a>BOCCACCIO'S UNTOLD TALE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Harry Kemp</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Stewart & Kidd Co.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Florio</span> [<i>a poet</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>Florio's mistress</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>a Florentine noblewoman</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>Florio's serving-woman</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dioneo</span> [<i>a member of Boccaccio's party</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">One Voice</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Another Voice</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Various Processions Bearing the Dead</span>.<br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time:</span> <i>The year of the Great Plague, A. D. 1348</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Place:</span> <i>Florence</i>.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + + +<p>Published by permission of and special arrangement with Harry Kemp. Applications +for the right of performing <span class="smcap">Boccaccio's Untold Tale</span> must be made to Mr. Harry +Kemp, in care of Brentano's, New York.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>BOCCACCIO'S UNTOLD TALE</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Harry Kemp</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene</span>: <i>A lower room in Florio's +house. It is wide and simply furnished.</i></p> + +<p><i>In the center, at back, is a large doorway, +hung with great black arras. In +the right-hand extreme corner is a small +altar to the Virgin.</i></p> + +<p><i>In wall, at back, high up on left, a +small window.</i></p> + +<p><i>A smaller doorway, hung with arras of +black, is on the left, well toward the +front. This doorway gives on the study +of the poet.</i></p> + +<p><i>At rise of curtain the stage is lit with +the uncertain light of tapers.</i></p> + +<p><i>Lizzia, the old servant, is discovered +kneeling at the altar.</i></p> + +<p><i>Soon she rises, crossing herself devoutly.</i></p> + +<p><i>Demurringly and with deprecating +shakes of the head, she begins hanging +wreaths about the walls of the room.</i></p> + +<p><i>After the hanging of each wreath she +crosses herself, and, with agitated piety +verging on superstition, she bends the +knee briefly before altar.</i></p> + +<p><i>Now the wreaths are all in place.... +Through the small window the grayness +that comes before dawn begins to glimmer +in.</i></p> + +<p><i>One by one Lizzia snuffs out the tapers.</i></p> + +<p><i>For a moment everything is left in the +gray half-darkness.</i></p> + +<p><i>But now Lizzia draws aside the large +black arras in the back. There is revealed +a magnificent panoramic view of +medieval Florence, flushing gradually +from pearl-gray to soft, delicate rose, +then to the full gold of accomplished +sunrise.</i></p> + +<p><i>Again the old woman kneels at the +altar.</i></p> + +<p><i>Enter, through the open doorway at +back, Violante—rather tall, good-looking, +quite dark.</i></p> + +<p><i>Violante stands silent for a moment. +One can see that it is in her thought to +wait till Lizzia finishes her devotions +... then she becomes impatient and +breaks in on them.</i>]</p> + + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Lizzia, where bides your master, Florio?<br /> +I sped a servant hither yesterday,<br /> +To bid him come to me, and now, this morning,<br /> +I come myself.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For three days he has looked upon no one.</span><br /> +Even I, who wait upon him, have not seen him.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Where keeps he, then?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>indicating the small doorway</i>].</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Yonder, within that arras.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Summon him forth!<br /> +Say the Lady Violante waits his presence.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +He will grow wroth with me—nor will he greet you.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Fears he, then, the Plague so? Is he too such<br /> +As dare not walk abroad nor breathe the air<br /> +Lest he should drink infection?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Not so, Lady, but he—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Tell him, then,</span><br /> +Our friend Boccaccio, the story-teller,<br /> +Has shaped a brave device against the Plague....<br /> +Before the sun climbs higher into day<br /> +And the night's Dead are heaped up in the streets<br /> +For buriers and priests to draw away,<br /> +A group of goodly ladies and gentlemen<br /> +Go forth to a sequestered country place<br /> +Remote from Florence and invisible Death.<br /> +There, in green gardens full of birds and leaves,<br /> +The blue, cloud-wandering heaven spread above,<br /> +We shall beguile the time with merriment,<br /> +Music and song and telling of many tales,<br /> +Trusting that Death, glutted with multitudes,<br /> +Will pass us by.... We need but Florio<br /> +To bring our perfect pleasure to the brim.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>obstinately</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +But he will see no one, Lady, not even you.<br /> +He is—he is—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Not smitten by the Plague?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>hesitating</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Nay, he has taken a vow of close seclusion.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>confidently</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +But he knows not I am here—the Lady Violante! [<i>A pause</i>.]<br /> +[<i>Impetuously</i>] Go, tell him it is I,—<br /> +Nor take upon yourself such high command!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>somewhat resentfully</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I am a servant,<br /> +I only do as he commanded me....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Barring way</i>.]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>distractedly</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt">Strange that he should so change in ten days' space.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>With passionate abandonment</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Old woman, go this instant—summon him!<br /> +I will abide your crabbed ways no longer.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>stung to retaliation</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Lady, he would not look upon your face<br /> +If you made him ruler of the world for it.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>flaming</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What new freak of his is this?<br /> +He is as full of moods as any woman....<br /> +But I had never thought—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Determined</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I will go to him!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>again barring way</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I could tell you many things,<br /> +But I would spare you.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Spare me!... you insolent, presumptuous old woman,<br /> +What have I,<br /> +I, the Lady Violante Ugolini,<br /> +To do with your good master, Florio,<br /> +Beyond a fostering friendship for his song!<br /> +Else he were nothing to me....<br /> +You are presuming on your age and service—<br /> +He shall rebuke you for this....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Very well, Lady, if you must know—<br /> +He has sworn that he will look upon no one<br /> +Till he behold—Olivia!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>startled</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Olivia!... who is Olivia?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +She is a girl who came from Padua<br /> +Hither, to flee the Plague ... and fled in vain.<br /> +He has loved her just ten days ... since first she came....<br /> +She came to him, a stranger, singing songs—<br /> +His songs!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +And flattering him so—he loved her!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Nay, she was beautiful, my noble lady,—<br /> +Surpassing wonderful.... "His shining dream<br /> +Of ivory and gold," he called her....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>coldly</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What has all this to do with me?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Relapsing into forgetful eagerness.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Tell me, where, then, is his Olivia now?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +The Plague! He gave her to a doctor's care,<br /> +Beggaring himself therefor, as one who loves!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +And now he shuts himself away for grief<br /> +Because she died!... But, if she be dead,<br /> +Wherefore these garlands?—<br /> +Or does he think she will come back, alive?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +The learned doctor swears if she survives<br /> +Three days, she shall not die.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 7em;">Not die, in sooth!</span><br /> +Who is this man who resurrects the Dead?<br /> +Why, folk whose nerves and sinews sing with life<br /> +Sicken, fall down, and seethe with death and worms<br /> +Within an hour, and they, the few who live,<br /> +Living, curse God because they did not die....<br /> +He would best think of the Living, and forget<br /> +The Dead.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Half-crazed with love, he dreams she will return....<br /> +This is the morning after the third day—<br /> +This is the very hour she would return.<br /> +Suppose the learned doctor keep his word?—<br /> +Hence have I hung these garlands.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The sounds of a funeral procession +heard approaching.... The procession +passes the large doorway, +going by, along the street, without. +The people bear candles.... +They pass slowly by the open +door ... bodies being carried in +shrouds.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">One Voice</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +We bore the son ... and now we bear the father....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Another Voice</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +And I or you, mayhap, will be the next.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>continuing</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +These wreaths, they seem a mockery of Heaven.<br /> +I pray that God will smite me not—I do<br /> +What I am bid!...<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>half to herself</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +She will not come!...<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>To Lizzia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Is there nothing will cure his madness?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Even if she die they are to bring her hither....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Hither? And all corrupt? Then Death will strike you both!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Lady, I am so old I'd rather sleep<br /> +Than walk this sinful, weary world; and be—<br /> +He will unshroud her, kiss her lips, and die!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>with great bitterness</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Fie, this our Florio—he has loved before,<br /> +And he will love again, and yet again....<br /> +Women's beauty he loves, not any woman!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What you have said were true ten days ago—<br /> +Do I not know him, Lady?... But a change<br /> +Has come upon him that I marvel at—<br /> +So great a change in such a little while....<br /> +Ah, looked you on them when they were together,<br /> +Saw you how he is caught up in her face<br /> +And all the beauty of her, you would say<br /> +"Here is a love, at last, that climbs from earth to heaven!"<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>laughing harshly</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +It is her beauty he loved; not she<br /> +The thing he loved! A poet, he!...<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +It were as well you tore these garlands down:<br /> +If, by a miracle, she should return,<br /> +The Plague will have marked her with such ugliness<br /> +That even you will shine like Helen of Troy beside her!<br /> +Much will he care, then, if she sing his songs!<br /> +Had she a voice like a garden of nightingales<br /> +He could not listen to her without loathing....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sounds of approach of another +funeral procession.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>continuing</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Pray draw the arras, Lizzia, and close out<br /> +The things that they bring by.... They have begun<br /> +To move the night's innumerable Dead.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lizzia draws the large arras.... +From now on, till the very last, +just before climax, sound and murmur +of processions are continually +heard.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>persistently</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I think she will not come—<br /> +But, if she does, she should be spared the cruelty<br /> +Of his heart's change,<br /> +And he, her marred, plague-broken face!<br /> +Stand aside—let me pass....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>barring way again</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 7.5em;">He took his oath</span><br /> +Before that altar, to the most high God!<br /> +You shall not break his vow....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Let me go to him—here are my jewels!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span> [<i>calling from within</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Who is it speaks without? Whose voice is this<br /> +Wrangling and breaking in upon my peace?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +The Lady Violante Ugolini!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +To-day, of all days, must I be alone....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Florio pushes out arras from small +doorway and stands before it, so +that he remains unseen to Violante +and Lizzia.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span> [<i>to Lizzia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Go, Lizzia, I will speak with the Lady....<br /> +Have you the wreaths hung, Lizzia?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Aye, master Florio!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Have you the table heaped with delicacies<br /> +In the green space by the fountain-shaken pool?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I go to set the viands now, my master.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lizzia goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Violante, if you would speak with me,<br /> +Stay where you are—I cannot look upon you.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Not look upon me?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Nor must you look on me.... I have vowed a vow!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +How strange you are!...<br /> +I had thought to rush into your arms!...<br /> +Have you forgotten so soon the oaths you took?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She starts toward him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span> [<i>hearing the rustle of her garment.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Move one step further and I draw the arras!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>halting and hesitating</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Have you forgotten the first time you saw my face<br /> +And sent a sonnet to me?... It seems but a day<br /> +Since you were awed by my nobility....<br /> +And when I let you press your burning lips<br /> +Against my hand, you swore it made you God!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sadly</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +From that time it was not far to my mouth....<br /> +And, after that, what with the shining moon,<br /> +And nightingales beginning in the dusk,<br /> +And songs and music that you made for me—<br /> +In a little while I was entirely yours!...<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Remember that young nobleman who died<br /> +For love of you?... I was your pastime, merely that!<br /> +And so I sipped what honey came my way.<br /> +But why do you come now?<br /> +Did you not leave me without a word?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">My father....</span><br /> +[<i>Sombrely</i>] My father whom the Pestilence has smitten—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span> [<i>quickly</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +You sent me no message.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Every door was watched ... he might have had you slain....<br /> +He bore me off to Rome....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">You loved me, then?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +And did not you love me?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I could have sworn I did.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">O Florio!...</span><br /> +Where is my pride of rank, my woman's shame.<br /> +That I should come like this to you!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Speak not so, Violante—I pray you go!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +You love another, then?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span> [<i>ecstatically</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I have loved beauty, beauty all my life!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +We are not metaphors and pale abstractions,<br /> +We women ... nor would we be prized alone<br /> +For smooth perfections.... [<i>Low and intense</i>] Say that you loved a woman<br /> +Smitten with the Plague, say, further, that she lived—<br /> +One among ten thousand—that she came back to you,<br /> +[The one thing sure] hideous and marred—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +You try me sorely!<br /> +Violante, I pray you, go!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>persistently</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I have come hither<br /> +To bid you come away with me.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +It may not be.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>slowly</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +The other one—there is another one!—<br /> +I pity her!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +You need not.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ah, then, there is another?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Have you no pride, my Lady Violante?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +That I have not,<br /> +For shameless is the heart that loves.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Then shamelessly I love<br /> +Another face, another heart and body,<br /> +Another soul, unto eternity—<br /> +She is all beauty to me, and all life—<br /> +So shall she be forever!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Forever? That is what you swore to me.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I have not sworn a single oath to her,<br /> +And yet she made earth heaven in a day,<br /> +And earth continues heaven.... Go, noble Lady!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +You have no pity on me?...<br /> +You see<br /> +How humbly I've become....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +To pity you, Lady, would be cruel to her!...<br /> +In a month you will be glad.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +You have slain me, Florio!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Farewell, Violante!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Violante affects to go. But she +stops quickly at large door in back +and reënters on tiptoe. Florio +withdraws to his study again, after +listening for a moment</i>.]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>reëntering</i>]</p> + +<p>You have not gone, my Lady Violante?</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I will not go<br /> +Till I have looked upon this woman's face!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As she finishes these words, the +great black arras in the back is +listed and a hooded and veiled +woman enters. She stands regarding +the two other women in silence.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Ah!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +The miracle has come to pass!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Crosses herself.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Do they call you Olivia? Speak, woman!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Yea, I am she—but where is Florio?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Violante straightens, proud and +erect, as if she had been struck an +invisible blow.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +He waits for you within.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +So he had faith I would not die?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +He had these garlands hung for your return.<br /> +He has lived beneath a holy vow, the days<br /> +You were not here: shut in his room,<br /> +Yours must be the first face<br /> +He sees, on his return to light and life.<br /> +He must have fallen asleep from weariness<br /> +Or he had heard your voice.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>To Violante.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Now, Lady Violante, you must go!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>indignant</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +How? I must go?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +You would not stay?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Yea, I would stay to see this love grow dark<br /> +And shrink to hate.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>astonished</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +And shrink to hate?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">When you remove your veil</span><br /> +Behind which ugliness that beggars hell<br /> +Lies hidden—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>dazed</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ugliness?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Cast by your veil!...</span><br /> +Well may you shrink from your own hideousness<br /> +Since the foul plague has withered up your face<br /> +And seared it till you die....<br /> +There shines your mirror, wrought of polished brass—<br /> +How many hours you have dallied at it<br /> +Only the beauty that you once possessed<br /> +Can tell.<br /> +You will no longer find a use for it.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>recovering herself</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I trust I shall!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>to Olivia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Alas, dear God! And is it true, Olivia?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>to Lizzia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Would he not love me still if it were true?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>to Olivia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I am old and wretched and full of woe.<br /> +I have known life too long.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>to Olivia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +He whose one cry is beauty! How could <i>that</i> be?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>almost singing in speech</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Then, God be praised, I need not try him thus!<br /> +For God has wrought two miracles with me:<br /> +I live, and I am beautiful!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Unveil your face, then—give yourself to sight.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +His must be the first eyes that look on me.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Ah, so you trust that you, with fond deceit,<br /> +May find some magic way to cozen him?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>with great emotion</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Go, Lady—I see darkness in the air,<br /> +I thrill to some strange horror, yet unguessed....<br /> +Go, Lady Violante, I pray you, go!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lizzia lifts arras in back for Violante's +exit. Violante does not move +from where she stands.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>persistently, to Olivia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Woman it is your beauty that he loved,<br /> +And that alone ... just as he loves a flower<br /> +Or sunset.... That gone, lo, his love is gone!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Strange woman, there is evil in your voice!<br /> +And yet I know he loves me for myself,<br /> +Taking my beauty, none the less, in gladness<br /> +Like any transitory gift from God.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +And yet you dare not put him to the test?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What test?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">To make him first believe</span><br /> +That you are ugly!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I would not toy with such a splendid gift<br /> +As a man's love.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>mocking</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Ah ... in sooth?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +How strange you look ... yet stranger is your speech.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Before you came—whom loved he then?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I do not think he was like other men.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Like other men he took and tossed aside,<br /> +Deceived and lied and went from heart to heart<br /> +Reaping the richness of each woman's soul.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Go, lest I strike you!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Poor, fond, believing child—</span><br /> +Now I would not have you test his love!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>stirred</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +By all the saints, I'll put him to the test!...</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As Violante steps closer to her</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Nay, I'll not let you look upon my face....<br /> +He must, as I have vowed, look on it first,<br /> +Nor will I break that vow—[<i>Her vanity conquering</i>]<br /> +But lift yon mirror<br /> +And you shall look in it and see me there<br /> +Reflected!...<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Violante lifts mirror so she and +Lizzia can see reflection</i>.]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>with simplicity</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Keep your backs so!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Unveiling briefly, then drawing veil +again</i>.]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +There! Have I lied?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +He always worshiped beauty.... You are fair!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Soon will you know our love has mighty wings<br /> +Outsoaring time into eternity!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I'll have him forth—are you ready for the trial?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Do you persuade him of my ugliness....<br /> +If he loves me not I shall go forth and die—<br /> +Then life will be far too like death to live!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>agonized</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +My little children, you must not do this thing!<br /> +Love is too high a gift to play with so.<br /> +God only has the right to put the heart<br /> +Of man to trial!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>to Lizzia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Will you be quiet, old woman!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>to Lizzia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I would not hold him if he only loved<br /> +My beauty, and not me. The test is just....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>to Lizzia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Go you, inform him of her return....<br /> +But tell him that that flower which was her face<br /> +Is shriveled up and lean as any hag's.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Now God forbid I should deceive him so!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Not even for gold?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span></p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Have you no fear of God?</span></p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A stir is heard within.</i>]</p> + + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt">Hush!... I will do it, then.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Going up to small arras over study door, she calls.</i>]</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Florio!... Florio!...</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span> [<i>from within, after a brief space</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Who is it calls me?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 7em;">It is I, Violante!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Why have you come again?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I have returned, Florio,<br /> +In strange times, bearing strange news.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +My soul is full of death—I pray you go!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +It could not be—aye, it is passing strange!—<br /> +She said her name was "Olivia."<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Olivia, ah, she lives!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Then, it is true? You love this shriveled woman?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Shriveled woman?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Ugly and bent and gray—a woman<br /> +Who says in as few words she is your mistress.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Has she come? Is she here?... Go, Violante—<br /> +Go, leave us two alone!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +She walked as one bewitched in a dream.<br /> +She seemed to fear.... I bade her wait without....<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Florio, could it be true you loved this woman?</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Has all the brightness fallen from her eyes,<br /> +The glory and the wonder from her face?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +She <i>lives</i>! How few have had the plague and <i>lived</i>!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Alas, woe, woe is me!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>triumphantly, to Olivia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt">You heard?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>To Florio.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Come forth—she's at the threshold.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Bid her wait.</span><br /> +Give me space for thought ... a little space....<br /> +This is almost as horrible as her death....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Long silence. The women wait.... Groaning within. Olivia starts +forward to go to Florio.</i>]</p> + + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>to Olivia</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt">Do you flinch now? I knew you would not dare!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Olivia stops. Proudly she remains +still.</i>]</p> + + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>as arras stirs</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Now bear <i>your</i> part—continue the deceit.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>in a frightened voice</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I know he loves me. Yet a little while<br /> +And I will draw my veil!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Another groan. Olivia starts forward +again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 8em;">Oh, I cannot!</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>mocking</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I knew you would not dare!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Again Olivia stops still.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Now, after a long pause, during +which death processions are heard +to pass, the arras over the smaller +doorway is slowly put aside. +Florio enters, swaying. He holds +his cloak about his brow.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Where is Olivia?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>feigning with an effort</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Florio, God pity you and me—<br /> +I had rather died!...<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 7em;">Oh, speak not so!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +My "beauty clean and golden as the sun,"<br /> +As once you sang it, has become so gross<br /> +And fearful, that I veil it, broken with shame,<br /> +From eyes of men.... [<i>A pause.</i>]<br /> + 'Tis well you cloak your eyes,<br /> +For should I drop my veil through which I glance—[<i>Another pause.</i>]<br /> +Shall I go?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span> [<i>breathing heavily</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +No ... for I love you ... bide with me....<br /> +[<i>With great effort</i>] ... Though you be foul, Olivia!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As he still stands muffled, Olivia +grows more and more frightened +at what she is doing, and now, in +complete surrender to terror, gives +over the deceit and speaks the +truth.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Florio, my Florio—draw down your arm....<br /> +No longer need you fear to look on me—<br /> +It was a test, my love, a cruel test!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She draws aside her veil, the other +women in back of her, Florio obliquely +in front. Her face is seen +to be one of surpassing loveliness.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Florio, groaning, keeps his face +cloaked and does not speak.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Look, my beloved, or I shall go mad!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Olivia tugs at his arm. He lowers +it. He exposes a sightless face.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>breaking in on the awful pause</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Self-blinded, my poor master!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Oh, Florio, what is this that I have done!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Olivia has dropped slowly back, +stricken dumb with voiceless terror. +Her throat works convulsively with +a scream which now rushes forth.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Florio falls to his knees, again covering +his face and bowing his head. +Olivia comes and kneels, grief-stricken, +beside him, putting one +arm about him in support.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span> [<i>sobbing</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +There is ... no one ... that's ... uglier ... than I!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span> [<i>convulsively</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +You were the glory of the world, Olivia!...<br /> +And now ... your beauty ... that is ... dead ... will always be ... to me ...<br /> +The glory of ... the world!... forever and forever!...<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Oh, if you could but see my ugliness—<br /> +I think there's nothing like it in the world!<br /> +O God, why did I not die an hour ago!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span> [<i>crazed anew with jealousy</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Florio, Florio—Olivia lies!<br /> +Her beauty floods the very room with light—<br /> +You are deceived most horribly!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Command that woman hence;<br /> +She is the source and cause of all our ill.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What does this mean? My soul is sick to death!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I tell you, Florio, that she lies to you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>To Lizzia.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Tell him the truth, old woman, and beware,<br /> +As you have fear of Hell, belief in God,<br /> +And hope of Heaven, to perjure not your soul!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Lizzia</span> [<i>at first frightened and irresolute, +then quietly determined.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt">God help me—she is surpassingly—ugly!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Returning Violante glare for glare.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt">Her ugliness—!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Breaking down, she goes to altar +and drops on knees before it.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Go, Violante!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Violante</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I could curse God for this!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Violante staggers toward the great +black curtain in doorway, where +she supports herself by clinging to +it.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Olivia, come back to me from the great Dark—<br /> +All life is but a ghost. Where are you, Olivia?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Olivia</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I am here—close to you, Florio!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Florio</span></p> + +<p class="noidt"> +What have you women done to me!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">[<i>To Olivia.</i>] Your face!</span><br /> +An evil dream is in my heart!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He gropes, catches her quickly on +each side of the head with both +hands. He draws her down to +him. He runs his fingers flickeringly +over the smooth, rosy +beauty of her face....</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Then, with an eyeless, uplifted countenance +which reveals complete +understanding and an abyss of +horror and madness, he slowly +pushes Olivia away....</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>He lifts his fingers up grotesquely +in the air, each distinct and widespread—painfully, +as if fire +spurted out of the ends of them. +Olivia weeps....</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Lizzia intones prayers....</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Violante holds herself erect and triumphant, +clinging to the great +arras in back, struggling for +strength to go out.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>At this moment another death-procession +passes.... A Miserere is chanted....</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>A dawn of horror breaks over Violante's +face ... she shrinks inward +from the passing procession, +feeling the huge horror of the Pestilence.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Olivia gathers Florio's unresisting +head to her bosom....</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>The sound of the Miserere dies off....</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Into this tableau breaks Dioneo. +Slowly he parts the arras.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"><span class="smcap">Dioneo</span> [<i>grimacing, and seeing, at first, +only Lizzia at the altar.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Bestir yourself, old woman—<br /> +Where is your master, Florio,<br /> +And Lady Violante Ugolini?...<br /> +This is no time for lovers' dallying....<br /> +Tell them that Seignior Boccaccio<br /> +Sends word through me that we must wait no longer.<br /> +And, furthermore, he bids me say—that</p> + + +<p class="salute">[<i>Violante falls in a faint across his feet.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Dioneo sees all. Shrinking back.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Merciful God!...<br /> +</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="ANOTHER_WAY_OUT" id="ANOTHER_WAY_OUT"></a>ANOTHER WAY OUT</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Lawrence Langner</span></h3> +<p> </p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1916, by Lawrence Langner.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + + + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Way Out</span> was originally produced by the Washington Square Players at +the Comedy Theatre, New York, on November 13th, 1916, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Margaret Marshall</span></td><td align='left'><i>Gwladys Wynne</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey</span></td><td align='left'><i>Jean Robb</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Pomeroy Pendleton</span></td><td align='left'><i>Jose Ruben</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Baroness de Meauville</span></td><td align='left'><i>Helen Westley</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Charles P. K. Fenton</span></td><td align='left'><i>Robert Strange</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>The Present</i>.</p> + +<p class="center">Produced under the direction of <span class="smcap">Mr. Phillip Moeller</span>.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + +<p>Reprinted from "Plays of the Washington Square Players," published by Frank +Shay, by permission of Mr. Lawrence Langner. Applications for permission to perform +<span class="smcap">Another Way Out</span> must be made to Lawrence Langner, 55 Liberty Street, +New York.</p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>ANOTHER WAY OUT</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Lawrence Langner</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>The studio in Pendleton's +apartment. A large room, with sky-light +in center wall, doors right and left, table +set for breakfast; a vase with red flowers +decorates the table. Center back stage, +in front of sky-light, modeling stand upon +which is placed a rough statuette, covered +by cloth. To one side of this is a +large screen. The furnishings are many +hued, the cushions a flare of color, and +the pictures fantastically futuristic.</i></p> + +<p><i>At Rise: Mrs. Abbey, a benevolent looking, +middle-aged woman, in neat clothes +and apron, is arranging some dishes on +the table. Margaret, a very modern +young woman, is exercising vigorously. +She is decidedly good-looking. Her eyes +are direct, her complexion fresh, and her +movements free. Her brown hair is +"bobbed," and she wears a picturesque +Grecian robe.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> Breakfast is ready, +ma'am.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Margaret sits at table and helps herself. +Exit Mrs. Abbey, left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>calling</i>]. Pommy dear. +Breakfast is on the table.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>from without</i>]. I'll be +there in a moment.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Margaret glances through paper; +Pendleton enters, door right. He +is tall and thin, and of æsthetic +appearance. His long blond hair +is brushed loosely over his forehead +and he is dressed in a helitrope-colored +dressing gown. He lights +a cigarette.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I thought you were going +to stop smoking before breakfast.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> My dear, I can't possibly +stand the taste of tooth paste in my +mouth all day.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pendleton sits at table. Enters +Mrs. Abbey with tray. Pendleton +helps himself, then drops his knife +and fork with a clang. Mrs. +Abbey and Margaret are startled.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> Anything the matter, +sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Dear, dear! My breakfast +is quite spoiled again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey</span> [<i>concerned</i>]. Spoiled, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>pointing to red flowers on +breakfast table</i>]. Look at those flowers, +Mrs. Abbey. Not only are they quite +out of harmony with the color scheme +in this room, but they're positively red, +and you know I have a perfect horror of +red.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> But you like them that +color sometimes, sir. What am I to do +when you're so temperamental about +'em.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Temperamental. I should +say bad-tempered.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey</span> [<i>soothingly</i>]. Oh no, +ma'am. It isn't bad temper. I understand +Mr. Pendleton. It's just another +bad night he's had, that's what it is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>sarcastically polite</i>]. Mrs. +Abbey, you appear to have an intimate +knowledge of how I pass the nights. It's +becoming quite embarrassing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> You mustn't mind an old +woman like me, sir.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The sound of a piano hopelessly out +of tune, in the apartment upstairs, +is heard, the player banging out +Mendelssohn's Wedding March +with unusual insistence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> There! That confounded +piano again!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> And they always play the +Wedding March. There must be an old +maid living there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> They're doing that for a +reason.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> What reason?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> Their cook tole me yesterday +that her missus thinks if she keeps +on a-playing of the Wedding March, +p'raps it'll give you an' Mr. Pendleton +the idea of getting married. She don't +believe in couples livin' to-gether, like +you an' Mr. Pendleton.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> No?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> And I just said you an' +Mr. Pendleton had been living together +so long, it was my opinion you might just +as well be married an' done with it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Your opinion is +quite uncalled for, Mrs. Abbey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Why shouldn't Mrs. +Abbey give us her opinion? It may be +valuable. Look at her experiences in +matrimony.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> In matrimony, and out +of it, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>sitting</i>]. But Mrs. Abbey +has no right to discuss our affairs with +other people's maids.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> I'll be glad to quit if I +don't suit the mistress.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. There! Mistress +again! How often have I asked you not +to refer to me as the mistress?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> No offense, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> You'd better see if there's +any mail, Mrs. Abbey, and take those +flowers away with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> Very well, sir.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Mrs. Abbey door center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> What an old-fashioned +point of view Mrs. Abbey has.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pendleton takes up paper and commences +to read.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Pommy, why do you stoop +so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Am I stooping?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I'm tired of telling you. +You ought to take more exercise.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pendleton continues to read.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> One reason why the Greeks +were the greatest of artists was because +they cultivated the body as carefully as +the mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Oh! Hang the Greeks!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Mrs. Abbey right, with letters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> There are your letters, +sir. [<i>Coldly.</i>] And these are yours, +ma'am.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Mrs. Abbey left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>who has opened her letters +meanwhile</i>]. How delightful! Tom Del +Valli has asked us to a party at his +studio next Friday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>opening his letters</i>]. Both +of us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>giving him letter</i>]. Yes, +and Helen Marsden wants us for Saturday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Both of us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>picking up another letter</i>]. +Yes, and here's one from Bobby Watson +for Sunday.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Both of us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Really, Margaret, this is +becoming exasperating. [<i>Holds up letters.</i>] +Here are four more, I suppose +for both of us. People keep on inviting +us out together time after time as though +we were the most conventional married +couple on God's earth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Do you object to going out +with me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>doubtfully</i>]. No, it isn't +that. But we're having too much of a +good thing. And I've come to the conclusion +that it's your fault.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>indignantly</i>]. Oh! it's my +fault? Of course you'd blame me. Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Because you have such an +absurd habit of boasting to people of your +devotion for me, when we're out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> You surely don't expect me +to quarrel with you in public?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> It isn't necessary to go +to that extent. But then everybody believes +that we're utterly, almost stupidly +in love with one another, what can you +expect?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> You said once you never +wanted me to suppress anything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> That was before we began +to live together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> What could I have done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>up right</i>]. Anything just +so we could have a little more freedom +instead of being tied to one another the +way we are. Never a moment when we're +not together, never a day when I'm not +interviewed by special article writers +from almost every paper and magazine +in the country, as the only successful exponent +of the theory that love can be so +perfect that the marriage contract degrades +it. I put it to you, Margaret, if +this is a free union it is simply intolerable!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> But aren't we living together +so as to have more freedom? +Think of what it might be if we were +married. Didn't you once write that +"When marriage comes in at the door, +freedom flies out at the window"?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Are we any better off, +with everybody treating us as though we +were living together to prove a principle?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Well, aren't we incidently? +You said so yourself. We can be a beautiful +example to other people, and show +them how to lead the pure natural lives +of the later Greeks?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Damn the later Greeks! +Why do you always throw those confounded +later Greeks in my face? We've +got to look at it from our standpoint. +This situation must come to an end.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> What can we do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> It rests with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> With me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> You can compromise +yourself with somebody publicly. That'll +put an end to everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> How will that end it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> It'll break down the morally +sanctified atmosphere in which we're +living. Then perhaps, people will regard +us as immoral and treat us like decent +human beings again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> But I don't want to compromise +myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> If you believe in your +own ideas, you must.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> But why should I have to +do it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> It will be so easy for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Why can't we both be compromised? +That would be better still.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> I should find it a bore. +You, unless my memory fails me, would +enjoy it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> You needn't be cynical. +Even if you don't enjoy it, you can work +it into a novel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> It's less exertion to imagine +an affair of that sort, and the result +would probably be more saleable. Besides +I have no interest whatsoever in +women, at least, in the women we know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> For that matter, I don't +know any eligible men.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> What about Bob Lockwood?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> But he's your best friend!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Exactly—no man ever +really trusts his best friend. He'll probably +compromise you without compunction.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I'm afraid he'd be too dangerous—he +tells you all his secrets. +Whom will you choose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> It's a matter of complete +indifference to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I've heard a lot of queer +stories about Jean Roberts. How would +she do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>firmly</i>]. Margaret, I +don't mind being party to a flirtation—but +I draw the line at being the victim +of a seduction.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Why not leave it to chance? +Let it be the next interesting woman you +meet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> That might be amusing. +But there must be an age limit. And +how about you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>takes cloth off statuette +and discloses figure of Apollo in rough +modeling clay</i>]. Me! Why not the new +model who is coming to-day to pose for +my Apollo?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Well, if he's anything like +that, you ought to be able to create a +sensation. Then, perhaps, we shall have +some real freedom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Pommy, do you still love +me as much as you did?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> How you sentimentalize! +Do you think I'd be willing to enter into +a flirtation with a strange woman, if I +didn't want to keep on living with you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> And we won't have to break +up our little home, will we?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> No, anything to save the +home. [<i>Catches himself.</i>] My God! If +any of my readers should hear me say +that! To think that I, Pomeroy Pendleton, +should be trying to save my own +home. And yet, how characteristically +paradoxical.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>interrupting</i>]. You are +going to philosophize! Give me a kiss.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes to him, sits on his lap, and +places her arm on his shoulder; he +takes out cigarette, she lights it for +him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>brought back to reality</i>]. +I have some work to do—I must go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> A kiss!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>kisses her carelessly</i>]. +There let me go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I want a real kiss.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Don't be silly, dear, I +can't play this morning. I've simply got +to finish my last chapter.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A bell rings, Mrs. Abbey enters and +goes to door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> There's a lady to see Mr. +Pendleton.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Tell her to come in!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> But, Margaret!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Remember! [<i>Significantly.</i>] +The first woman you meet!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Margaret. Mrs. Abbey enters +with Baroness de Meauville. Exit +Mrs. Abbey.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness de Meauville</span> [<i>speaking with +a pronounced English accent</i>]. Good +morning, Mr. Pendleton, I'm the Baroness +de Meauville!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>recalling her name</i>]. +Baroness de Meauville? Ah, the costumiere?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Not a costumiere, Mr. Pendleton, +I am an artist, an artist in modern +attire. A woman is to me what a canvas +is to a painter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Excuse me for receiving +you in my dressing gown. I was at work.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> I like to see men in dressing +gowns—yours is charming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>flattered and pleased</i>]. +Do you like it? I designed it myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness</span> [<i>looking seductively into his +eyes</i>]. How few really creative artists +there are in America.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>modestly</i>]. You flatter +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Not at all. You must +know that I'm a great admirer of yours, +Mr. Pendleton. I've read every one of +your books. I feel I know you as an old +friend.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> That's very nice of you!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Baroness reclines on couch; +takes jeweled cigarette case from +reticule and offers Pendleton a +cigarette.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Will you smoke?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Thanks.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pendleton lights her cigarette, then +his own. He draws his chair up +to the couch. An atmosphere of +mutual interest is established.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Mr. Pendleton, I have a +mission in life. It is to make the American +woman the best dressed woman in +the world. I came here to-day because +I want you to help me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> But I have no ambitions +in that direction.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Why should you have ambitions? +Only the bourgeoisie have ambitions. +We artists have inspirations. I +want to breathe into you the spirit of my +great undertaking. Already I have +opened my place in the smartest part of +the Avenue. Already I have drawn my +assistants from all parts of the world. +Nothing is lacking to complete my plans +but you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Me? Why me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness</span> [<i>endearingly</i>]. Are you not +considered one of the foremost men of +letters in America?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>modestly</i>]. Didn't you +say you had read all my books?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Are you not the only writer +who has successfully portrayed the emotional +side of American life?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>decidedly</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Exactly. That is why I +have chosen you to write my advertisements.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>aghast</i>]. But, Baroness!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> You're not going to say +that. It's so ordinary.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> But, but, you want me to +write advertisements!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Please don't disappoint +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Yes, I suppose that's so. +But one has a sense of pride.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Art comes before Pride. +Consider my feelings, an aristocrat, coming +here to America and engaging in +commerce, and advertising, and other +dreadful things, and all for the sake of +Art!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> But you make money out +of it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Only incidentally. Just as +you, in writing my advertisements, would +make, say ten thousand or so, as a sort +of accident. But don't let us talk of +money. It's perfectly revolting, isn't it? +Art is Life, and I believe in Life for +Art's sake. That's why I'm a success.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Indeed? How interesting. +Please go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> When a woman comes to +me for a gown, I don't measure body, +why should I? I measure her mind. I +find her color harmony. In a moment +I can tell whether she ought to wear +scarlet, mauve, taupe, magenta, or any +other color, so as to fall into her proper +rhythm. Every one has a rhythm, you +know. [<i>Pendleton sits on sofa.</i>] But I +don't have to explain all this to you, Mr. +Pendleton. You understand it intuitively. +This heliotrope you are wearing +shows me at once that you are in rhythm.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>thinks of Margaret</i>]. I'm +not so sure that I am. What you say +interests me. May I ask you a question?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Yes, but I may not answer +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Why do you wear heliotrope +and the same shade as mine?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness</span> [<i>with mock mystery</i>]. You +mustn't ask me that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> I'm all curiosity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Curiosity is dangerous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Supposing I try to find +out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> That may be even more +dangerous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> I'm fond of that kind of +danger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Take care! I'm very fragile.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Isn't heliotrope in rhythm +with the faint reflection of passion?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> How brutal of you to have +said it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>coming closer to her</i>]. I, +too, am in rhythm with heliotrope.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness</span> [<i>with joy</i>]. How glad I am. +Thank God you've no desire to kiss my +lips.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Only your finger-tips.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They exchange kisses on finger-tips.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Your fingers are like +soft, pale, waxen tapers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Your kisses are the breathings +that light them into quivering +flame!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Exquisite—exquisite!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness</span> [<i>withdrawing her hands</i>]. +That was a moment!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> We must have many such.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Many? That's too near +too much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>feverishly</i>]. We shall, +dear lady.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> How I adore your writings! +They have made me realize the +beauty of an ideal union, the love of +one man for one woman at a time. Let +us have such a union, you and me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>taken back</i>]. But I live +in such a union already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness</span> [<i>rising in amazement</i>]. And +only a moment ago you kissed me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Well—what of it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Don't you see what we've +done? You are living in one of those +wonderful unions you describe in your +books—and I've let you kiss me. I've +committed a sacrilege.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> You're mistaken. It isn't +a sacrilege. It's an opportunity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness</span> [<i>dramatically</i>]. How can +you say that—you whose words have inspired +my deepest intimacies. No, I +must go. [<i>Makes for the door.</i>] I—must—go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> You don't understand. I +exaggerated everything so in my confounded +books.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Please ask her to forgive +me. Please tell her I thought you were +married, otherwise, never, never, would +I have permitted you to kiss me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> What made you think I +was married?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> One often believes what +one hopes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> You take it too seriously. +Let me explain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> What is there to explain? +Our experience has been complete. Why +spoil it by anti-climax?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Am I never to see you +again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baroness.</span> Who knows? If your present +union should end, and some day your +soul needs—some one?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit door center, her manner full of +promise.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>with feeling</i>]. Good-by—long, +pale fingers.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Margaret, door right.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Did you get a good start +with the scandal?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Not exactly. I may as +well admit it was a failure through no +fault of mine, of course. And now, I +simply must finish that last chapter.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He exits. Margaret rings. Mrs. +Abby enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> You may clear, Mrs. Abbey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> Very well, ma'am.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She attends to clearing the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Mrs. Abbey, have you +worked for many people living together, +like Mr. Pendleton and myself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> Lor', Ma'am, yes. I've +worked in nearly every house on the +south side of Washington Square.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Mr. Pendleton says I'm as +domestic as any wife could be. Were +the others like me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> Most of them, ma'am, +but some was regular hussies; not only +a-livin' with their fellers—but havin' a +good time, too. That's what I call real +immoral.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Bell rings. Mrs. Abbey opens door +center and passes out. Conversation +with Fenton without is heard. +Mrs. Abbey comes back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> A young man wants to +see you, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> That's the new model. +I'll get my working apron.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Margaret, door right. Mrs. +Abbey calls through door center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> You c'n come in.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter door left, Charles P. K. Fenton, +dictionary salesman. He is a +strikingly handsome young man, +offensively smartly dressed in a +black and white check suit, gaudy +tie, and white socks. His hair is +brushed back from his forehead +like a glossy sheath. He carries a +black bag. His manner is distinctly +"male."</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey</span> [<i>points to screen</i>]. You +can undress behind there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Undress? Say, what's this? +A Turkish bath?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> Did you expect to have +a private room all to yourself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>looking around</i>]. What am I +to undress for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> The missus will be here +in a minute.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Good night! I'm goin'.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Makes for door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> What's the matter? +Ain't you the Missus' new model?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> A model! Ha! Ha! You've +sure got the wrong number this time. +I'm in the dictionary line, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> Well, of all the impudence! +You a book agent, and a-walkin' +in here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Well, you asked me in, didn't +you? Can't I see the missus, jest for a +minute?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey</span> [<i>good-naturedly</i>]. Very +well. Here she is. [<i>Confidentially.</i>] +And I advise you to remove that Spearmint +from your mouth, if you want to +sell any dictionaries in this house.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>placing hand to mouth</i>]. +Where shall I put it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> You'd better swallow it!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Fenton tries to do so, chokes, turns +red, and places his hand to mouth.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>to Fenton</i>]. I'm so glad to +see you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Fenton is most embarrassed. Mrs. +Abbey, in surprise, attempts to explain +situation.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> But, ma'am—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> You may go, Mrs. Abbey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> But, but, ma'am—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>severely</i>]. You may go, +Mrs. Abbey. [<i>Exit Mrs. Abbey in a +huff.</i>] I'm so glad they sent you up to +see me. Won't you sit down?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Fenton finds it a difficult matter to +handle the situation. He adopts +his usual formula for an "opening," +but his speech is mechanical +and without conviction. Margaret +adds to the embarrassment by stepping +around him and examining +him with professional interest.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Madam, I represent the +Globe Advertising Publishing Sales Co., +the largest publishers of dictionaries in +the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>continuing to appraise him</i>]. +Then you're not the new model?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> No, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> What a pity! Never mind, +go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> As I was saying, ma'am, I +represent the Advertising Globe Publishing—I +mean the Globe Publishing Sales +Publishing Co., the largest publishers of +dictionaries in the world. For some +time past we have felt there was a demand +for a new Encyclopaedic Dictionary, +madam, one that would not only +fill up a good deal of space in the bookshelf, +making an attractive addition to +the home, but also containing the most +complete collection of words in the English +language.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>who has taken a pencil and +is measuring Fenton while he speaks; +Fenton's discomfort is obvious. He attempts +to rearrange his tie and coat, +thinking she is examining him.</i>] Please +go on talking, it's so interesting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Statistics show that the +Woman of Average Education in America, +Madam, has command of but fifteen +hundred words. This new dictionary, +Madam, [<i>Produces book from bag.</i>] will +give you command of over eight hundred +and fifty thousand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>archly</i>]. So you are a +dealer in words—how perfectly romantic.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>warming</i>]. Most of these +words, madam, are not used more than +a dozen times a year. They are our +Heritage from the Past. And all these +words, to say nothing of the fact that +the dictionary fills five inches in a bookshelf, +making an attractive addition to +the library, being handsomely bound in +half-cloth—all these are yours, ma'am, +for the price of one dollar.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He places dictionary in her hand. +She examines it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> If you have a son, madam, +the possession of this dictionary will +give him an opportunity of acquiring +that knowledge of our language which +made Abraham Lincoln the Father of our +Country. Madam, opportunity knocks at +the door only once and <i>This</i> is <i>your</i> opportunity +at one dollar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>meaningly</i>]. Yes, this is +my opportunity! I'll buy the dictionary +and now [<i>sweetly</i>] won't you tell me +your name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>pocketing dollar</i>]. My name +is Charles P. K. Fenton.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Mr. Fenton, would you +mind doing me a favor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>looking dubiously towards the +screen</i>]. Why, I guess not, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I want you to take off +your coat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>puzzled</i>]. You're not trying +to kid me, ma'am?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I just want to see your development. +Do you mind?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>removes coat</i>]. Why, no, +ma'am, if that's all you want.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Now, bring your arm up, +tighten the muscles. [<i>Fenton does as +she bids; Margaret thumps his arm approvingly.</i>] +Splendid! You must take +lots of exercise, Mr. Fenton.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Not me, ma'am. I never had +no time for exercise; I got that workin' +in a freight yard.</p> + +<p>Margaret. I suppose you think me +rather peculiar, Mr. Fenton.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> You said it, Miss.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> You see I'm a sculptress. +[<i>Points to statuette.</i>] This is my work.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> You made that? Gee! that's +great. [<i>Examines statuette.</i>] Just like +them statues at the Metropolitan.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> That figure is Apollo, Mr. +Fenton.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Oh, Apollo.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I was to engage a professional +model for it, but I could never +hope to get a professional as fine a type +as you. Will you pose for it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>aghast</i>]. Me? That feller +there without any clothes. [<i>Dubiously.</i>] +Well, I don't know. It's kind of chilly +here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> If I draped you, it would +spoil some of your lines. [<i>Seeing his +hesitation.</i>] But I will if you like.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>relieved</i>]. Ah, now you're +talking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> So, you'll really come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> How about this evening?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Splendid! Sit down. [<i>Fenton +does so.</i>] Mr. Fenton, you've quite +aroused my curiosity. I know so few +business men. Is your work interesting?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Well, I can't say it was, +until I started selling around this neighborhood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Is it difficult?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Not if you've got personality, +Miss. That's the thing, personality. +If a feller hasn't got personality, +he can't sell goods, that's sure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> What do you mean by personality, +Mr. Fenton.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Well, it's what sells the +goods. I don't know how else to explain +it exactly. I'll look it up in the dictionary. +[<i>Takes dictionary and turns pages.</i>] +Here it is, ma'am. Per—per—why, it +isn't in here. I guess they don't put in +words that everybody knows. We all +know what personality means. It's what +sells the goods.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I adore a strong, virile, +masculine personality.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> I don't quite get you, madam.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> The men I know have so +much of the feminine in them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Oh, "Cissies"!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>flirtingly</i>]. They lack the +magnetic forcefulness which I like so +much in you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> I believe you are kidding +me. Does that mean you like me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> That's rather an embarrassing +question.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> You must or you wouldn't +let me speak to you this way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>archly</i>]. Never mind +whether I like you. Tell me whether +you like me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>feeling more at home</i>]. Gee! +I didn't get on to you at first. Sure I +like you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Then we're going to be +good friends.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> You just bet <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'me'">we</ins> are. Say, +got a date for to-morrow evening?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> How about the movies? +There's a fine feature film at the Strand. +Theda Bara in "The Lonesome Vampire," +five reels. They say it's got +"Gloria's Romance" beat a mile.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I don't know that I'd care +to go there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> How about a run down to +Coney?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Coney! I've always +wanted to do wild Pagan things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Say, you'll tell me your +name, won't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Margaret Marshall.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Do you mind if I call you +Margie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> If you do, I must call +you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Charley. Gee, I like the +name of Margie. Some class to that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I'm glad you like it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>moving nearer</i>]. And some +class to you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>coyly</i>]. So you really like +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> You bet. Say, before I go, +you've got to give me a kiss, Margie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Well, I don't know. +Aren't you rather "rushing" me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Say, you are a kidder.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He draws her up from her chair, +and kisses her warmly on the lips.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i><ins class="correction" title="original reads 'ecstastically'">ecstatically</ins></i>]. You have +the true Greek spirit! [<i>They kiss again.</i>] +If only Pommy would kiss me that way!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Pommy? Who's Pommy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Pommy is the man I live +with.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Your husband!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> No, we just live together. +You see, we don't believe in marriage.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>pushing her away in horror</i>]. +I thought there was something queer +about all this. Does he live here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Yes. [<i>Points to door.</i>] +He's in there now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. Good night! I'm +goin'.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Looks for hat.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>speaking with real anguish</i>]. +You're surely not going just on that account.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>taking hat and bag</i>]. Isn't +that enough?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>emotionally</i>]. Please don't +go. Listen, I can't suppress my feeling +for you; I never do with anybody. I +liked you the moment I saw you, I want +you as a friend, a good friend. You +can't go now, just when everything's +about to begin.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>severely</i>]. Fair's fair, Miss. +If he's keeping you, you can't be taking +up with me at the same time. That puts +the finish on it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> But he doesn't keep me. +I keep myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> Wait a minute. You support +yourself, and live with him of your +own free will. Then you've got no excuse +for being immoral; 'tisn't like you +had to make your living at it. [<i>At door.</i>] +Good-by.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> But I can explain everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton.</span> It's no use, Miss. Even +though I am a salesman, I've got a sense +of honor. I sized you up as a married +woman when I came in just now, or I +never would have made love to you at +all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Oh—wait! Supposing I +should want to buy some more dictionaries.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fenton</span> [<i>returning</i>]. You've got my +card, Miss. The 'phone number is on it. +Bryant 4253. [<i>Sees Margaret hang her +head.</i>] Don't feel hurt, Miss. You'll get +over these queer ideas some day, and +when you do, well, you've got my number. +So long, kid.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Fenton, door, center.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>taking his card from table +and placing it to her lips soulfully</i>]. My +Apollo, Bryant 4253!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Did you get a good start +with your scandal. [<i>Margaret hangs her +head.</i>] It's no use; I'm convinced we're +in a hopeless muddle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I heartily agree with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> You've changed your +mind very suddenly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I have my reasons.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> The fact is, Margaret, +that so long as we live together we're +public figures, with everybody else as +our jury.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> But lots of people read +your books and respect us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> The people that respect +us are worse than the people that don't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> If they wouldn't always be +bothering about our morals!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> If we continue living together, +we shall simply be giving up our +freedom to prove we are free.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>faltering</i>]. I suppose we +ought to separate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> I believe we should.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> We'll have to give up the +studio.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton</span> [<i>regretfully</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> It's taken a long time to +make the place homelike.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> We've been very comfortable +here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I shall miss you at meals.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> I shall have to start eating +at clubs and restaurants again, no +more good home cooking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> We're kind of used to one +another, aren't we?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> It isn't an easy matter to +break, after five years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> And there are mighty few +studios with as good a light as this; I +don't want to separate if you don't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> But, Margaret. [<i>Piano +starts playing wedding march.</i>] There, +that confounded piano again. [<i>Seized +with an idea.</i>] Margaret, there's another +way out!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>with same idea</i>]. You +mean, we ought to marry!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Yes, marry, and do it at +once. That'll end everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Let's do it right away and +get it over with; I simply must finish my +Apollo.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> I'm going to buy you a +new gown to get married in, a wedding +present from Baroness de Meauville's.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> I don't know that I want +a De Meauville gown.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pendleton.</span> Please let me. I want to +give you something to symbolize our new +life together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Very well. And in return, +I'll buy you a dictionary, so that I won't +have to keep on correcting your spelling.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Pendleton. Margaret goes to +'phone, and consults Fenton's card.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> Bryant 4253? Can I speak +to Mr. Fenton? [<i>Enter Mrs. Abbey.</i>] +Mrs. Abbey. What do you think? +We're going to get married!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Abbey.</span> Well, bless my soul! +That's right. You can take it from me, +ma'am, you'll find that respectability +pays.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> [<i>at 'phone</i>]. Bryant 4253? +[<i>Sweetly.</i>] Is that Mr. Fenton? [<i>Pause.</i>] +Hello, Charley!</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="ARIA_DA_CAPO" id="ARIA_DA_CAPO"></a>ARIA DA CAPO</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Edna St. Vincent Millay</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Edna St. Vincent Millay.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Harriet Wilde.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Lydia Wilde</span> [<i>her niece</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Joe Wilde</span> [<i>her nephew</i>].<br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time:</span> <i>Yesterday</i>.</p> + + + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Pierrot</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Columbine</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cothurnus</span> [<i>masque of tragedy</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thyrsis</span> [<i>shepherd</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Corydon</span> [<i>shepherd</i>].<br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>First printed in "Reedy's Mirror," St. Louis. Application to produce this play +should be made to Edna St. Vincent Millay, in care of the Provincetown Players, 133 +Macdougal Street, New York.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>ARIA DA CAPO</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Edna St. Vincent Millay</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A Stage. The curtain rises on +a stage set for a Harlequinade, a merry +black and white interior. Directly behind +the footlights, and running parallel with +them, is a long table, covered with a gay +black and white cloth, on which is spread +a banquet. At the opposite ends of this +table, seated on delicate thin-legged +chairs with high backs, are Pierrot and +Columbine, dressed according to the tradition, +excepting that Pierrot is in lilac, +and Columbine in pink. They are dining.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Pierrot, a macaroon! I cannot <i>live</i></span><br /> +Without a macaroon!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">My only love,</span><br /> +You are <i>so</i> intense.... It is Tuesday, Columbine?——<br /> +I'll kiss you if it's Tuesday.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">It is Wednesday,</span><br /> +If you must know.... Is this my artichoke,<br /> +Or yours?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, Columbine,—as if it mattered!</span><br /> +Wednesday.... Will it be Tuesday, then, to-morrow,<br /> +By any chance?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">To-morrow will be—Pierrot,</span><br /> +That isn't funny!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I thought it rather nice.</span><br /> +Well, let us drink some wine and lose our heads<br /> +And love each other.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Pierrot, don't you love</span><br /> +Me now?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">La, what a woman!—How should I know?</span><br /> +Pour me some wine: I'll tell you presently.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> Pierrot, do you know, I think you drink too much.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> Yes, I dare say I do.... Or else too little.<br /> +It's hard to tell. You see, I am always wanting<br /> +A little more than what I have,—or else<br /> +A little less. There's something wrong. My dear,<br /> +How many fingers have you?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">La, indeed,</span><br /> +How should I know?—It always takes me one hand<br /> +To count the other with. It's too confusing.<br /> +Why?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Why?—I am a student, Columbine;</span><br /> +And search into all matters.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">La, indeed?—</span><br /> +Count them yourself, then!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">No. Or, rather, nay.</span><br /> +'Tis of no consequence.... I am become<br /> +A painter, suddenly,—and you impress me—<br /> +Ah, yes!—six orange bull's-eyes, four green pin-wheels,<br /> +And one magenta jelly-roll,—the title<br /> +As follows: <i>Woman Taking In Cheese From Fire-Escape</i>.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> Well, I like that! So that is all I've meant<br /> +To you!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hush! All at once I am become</span><br /> +A pianist. I will image you in sound,...<br /> +On a new scale ... without tonality....<br /> +<i>Vivace senza tempo senza tutto</i>....<br /> +Title: <i>Uptown Express at Six O'Clock</i>.<br /> +Pour me a drink.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Pierrot, you work too hard.</span><br /> +You need a rest. Come on out into the garden,<br /> +And sing me something sad.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Don't stand so near me!</span><br /> +I am become a socialist. I love<br /> +Humanity; but I hate people. Columbine,<br /> +Put on your mittens, child; your hands are cold.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">My hands are <i>not</i> cold.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Oh, I am sure they are.</span><br /> +And you must have a shawl to wrap about you,<br /> +And sit by the fire.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Why, I'll do no such thing!</span><br /> +I'm hot as a spoon in a tea-cup!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Columbine,</span><br /> +I'm a philanthropist. I know I am,<br /> +Because I feel so restless. Do not scream,<br /> +Or it will be the worse for you!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Pierrot,</span><br /> +My vinaigrette: I cannot <i>live</i> without<br /> +My vinaigrette!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">My only love, you are</span><br /> +<i>So</i> fundamental!... How would you like to be<br /> +An actress, Columbine?—I am become<br /> +Your manager.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Why, Pierrot, <i>I</i> can't act.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> Can't act! Can't act! La, listen to the woman!<br /> +What's that to do with the price of furs?—You're blonde,<br /> +Are you not?—You have no education, have you?—<br /> +Can't act! You under-rate yourself, my dear!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Yes, I suppose I do.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">As for the rest,</span><br /> +I'll teach you how to cry, and how to die,<br /> +And other little tricks; and the house will love you.<br /> +You'll be a star by five o'clock.... That is,<br /> +If you will let me pay for your apartment.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <i>Let</i> you?—well, that's a good one! Ha! Ha! Ha!<br /> +But why?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">But why?—well, as to that, my dear,</span><br /> +I cannot say. It's just a matter of form.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Pierrot, I'm getting tired of caviar</span><br /> +And peacocks' livers. Isn't there something else<br /> +That people eat?—some humble vegetable,<br /> +That grows in the ground?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Well, there are mushrooms.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 10em;">Mushrooms!</span><br /> +That's so! I had forgotten ... mushrooms ... mushrooms....<br /> +I cannot <i>live</i> with.... How do you like this gown?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> Not much. I'm tired of gowns that have the waist-line<br /> +About the waist, and the hem around the bottom,—<br /> +And women with their breasts in front of them!—<br /> +<i>Zut</i> and <i>ehé</i>! Where does one go from here!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> Here's a persimmon, love. You always liked them.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I am become a critic; there is nothing I can enjoy.... However, set it aside;</span><br /> +I'll eat it between meals.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Pierrot, do you know,</span><br /> +Sometimes I think you're making fun of me.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> My love, by yon black moon, you wrong us both.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">There isn't a sign of a moon, Pierrot.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Of course not.</span><br /> +There never was. "Moon's" just a word to swear by,<br /> +"Mutton!"—now <i>there's</i> a thing you can lay the hands on,<br /> +And set the tooth in! Listen, Columbine:<br /> +I always lied about the moon and you.<br /> +Food is my only lust.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Well, eat it, then,</span><br /> +For heaven's sake, and stop your silly noise!<br /> +I haven't heard the clock tick for an hour.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> It's ticking all the same. If you were a fly,<br /> +You would be dead by now. And if I were a parrot,<br /> +I could be talking for a thousand years!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enters Cothurnus.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> Hello, what's this, for God's sake?—What's the matter?<br /> +Say, whadda you mean?—get off the stage, my friend,<br /> +And pinch yourself,—you're walking in your sleep!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I never sleep.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Well, anyhow, clear out.</span><br /> +You don't belong on here. Wait for your own scene!<br /> +Whadda you think this is,—a dress-rehearsal?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sir, I am tired of waiting. I will wait</span><br /> +No longer.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Well, but what are you going to do?</span><br /> +The scene is set for me!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">True, sir; yet I</span><br /> +Can play the scene.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Your scene is down for later!</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">That, too, is true, sir; but I play it now.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Oh, very well!—Anyway, I am tired</span><br /> +Of black and white. At least, I think I am.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Columbine.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Yes, I am sure I am. I know what I'll do!—<br /> +I'll go and strum the moon, that's what I'll do....<br /> +Unless, perhaps, ... you never can tell ... I may be,<br /> +You know, tired of the moon. Well, anyway,<br /> +I'll go find Columbine.... And when I find her,<br /> +I will address her thus: "<i>Ehé</i> Pierrette!"—<br /> +There's something in that.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Pierrot.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You, Thyrsis! Corydon!</span><br /> +Where are you?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Sir, we are in our dressing-room!</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come out and do the scene.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You are mocking us!—</span><br /> +The scene is down for later.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">That is true;</span><br /> +But we will play it now. I am the scene.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Seats himself on high place in back +of stage. Enter Corydon and +Thyrsis.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sir, we were counting on this little hour.</span><br /> +We said, "Here is an hour,—in which to think<br /> +A mighty thought, and sing a trifling song,<br /> +And look at nothing."—And, behold! the hour,<br /> +Even as we spoke, was over, and the act begun,<br /> +Under our feet!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Sir, we are not in the fancy</span><br /> +To play the play. We had thought to play it later.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Besides, this is the setting for a farce.</span><br /> +Our scene requires a wall; we cannot build<br /> +A wall of tissue-paper!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">We cannot act</span><br /> +A tragedy with comic properties!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> Try it and see. I think you'll find you can.<br /> +One wall is like another. And regarding<br /> +The matter of your insufficient wood,<br /> +The important thing is that you speak the lines,<br /> +And make the gestures. Wherefore I shall remain<br /> +Throughout, and hold the prompt-book. Are you ready?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.-Thyr.</span> [<i>sorrowfully</i>]. Sir, we are always ready.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Play the play!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Corydon and Thyrsis move the table +and chairs to one side out of the +way, and seat themselves in a half-reclining +position on the floor, left +of the center of the stage, propped +up by crepe paper pillows and bolsters, +in place of rocks.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">How gently in the silence, Corydon,</span><br /> +Our sheep go up the bank. They crop a grass<br /> +That's yellow where the sun is out, and black<br /> +Where the clouds drag their shadows.<br /> +Have you noticed<br /> +How steadily, yet with what a slanting eye<br /> +They graze?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">As if they thought of other things.</span><br /> +What say you, Thyrsis, do they only question<br /> +Where next to pull?—Or do their far minds draw them<br /> +Thus vaguely north of west and south of east?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> One cannot say.... The black lamb wears its burdocks<br /> +As if they were a garland,—have you noticed?—<br /> +Purple and white—and drinks the bitten grass<br /> +As if it were a wine.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">I've noticed that.</span><br /> +What say you, Thyrsis, shall we make a song<br /> +About a lamb that thought himself a shepherd?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Why, yes!—that is, why,—no. (I have forgotten<br /> +My line.)</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> [<i>prompting</i>]. "I know a game worth two of that."</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Oh, yes.... I know a game worth two of that:<br /> +Let's gather rocks, and build a wall between us;<br /> +And say that over there belongs to me,<br /> +And over here to you!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Why,—very well.</span><br /> +And say you may not come upon my side<br /> +Unless I say you may!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Nor you on mine!</span><br /> +And if you should, 'twould be the worse for you!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They weave a wall of colored <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'crépe'">crepe</ins> +paper ribbons from the center front +to the center back of the stage, +fastening the ends to Columbine's +chair in front and to Pierrot's +chair in the back.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> Now there's a wall a man may see across,<br /> +But not attempt to scale.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">An excellent wall.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Come, let us separate, and sit alone</span><br /> +A little while, and lay a plot whereby<br /> +We may outdo each other.</p> + + +<p class="salute">[<i>They seat themselves on opposite +sides of the wall.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> [<i>off stage</i>]. <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Ehé Pierrette!</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> [<i>off stage</i>]. My name is Columbine! Leave me alone!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> [<i>coming up to the wall</i>].<br /> +Corydon, after all, and in spite of the fact<br /> +I started it myself, I do not like this<br /> +So very much. What is the sense of saying<br /> +I do not want you on my side the wall?<br /> +It is a silly game. I'd much prefer<br /> +Making the little song you spoke of making,<br /> +About the lamb, you know, that thought himself<br /> +A shepherd!—what do you say?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pause.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> [<i>at wall</i>]. <span style="margin-left: 3em;">(I have forgotten</span><br /> +The line)</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> [<i>prompting</i>]. "How do I know +this isn't a trick"</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> Oh, yes.... How do I know this isn't a trick<br /> +To get upon my land?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Oh, Corydon,</span><br /> +You <i>know</i> it's not a trick. I do not like<br /> +The game, that's all. Come over here, or let me<br /> +Come over there.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">It is a clever trick</span><br /> +To get upon my land.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Seats himself as before.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Oh, very well! [<i>Seats himself as before</i>] [<i>To himself.</i>] I think I never knew a sillier game.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> [<i>coming to wall</i>].<br /> +Oh, Thyrsis, just a minute!—all the water<br /> +Is on your side the wall, and the sheep are thirsty.<br /> +I hadn't thought of that.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Oh, hadn't you?</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Why, what do you mean?</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">What do I mean?—I mean</span><br /> +That I can play a game as well as you can.<br /> +And if the pool is on my side, it's on<br /> +My side, that's all.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">You mean you'd let the sheep</span><br /> +Go thirsty?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Well, they're not my sheep. My sheep</span><br /> +Have water enough.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <i>Your</i> sheep! You are mad, to call them.<br /> +Yours—mine—they are all one flock! Thyrsis, you can't mean<br /> +To keep the water from them, just because<br /> +They happened to be grazing over here<br /> +Instead of over there, when we set the wall up?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Oh, can't I?—wait and see!—and if you try<br /> +To lead them over here, you'll wish you hadn't!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I wonder how it happens all the water</span><br /> +<i>Is</i> on your side.... I'll say you had an eye out<br /> +For lots of little things, my innocent friend,<br /> +When I said, "Let us make a song," and you said,<br /> +"I know a game worth two of that!"</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> [<i>off stage</i>].<br /> +D'you know, I think you must be getting old,<br /> +Or fat, or something,—stupid, anyway!—<br /> +Can't you put on some other kind of collar?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">You know as well as I do, Corydon,</span><br /> +I never thought of anything of the kind.<br /> +<i>Don't</i> you?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">I <i>do</i> not.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 11em;">Don't you?</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">Oh, I suppose so.</span><br /> +Thyrsis, let's drop this,—what do you say?—it's only<br /> +A game, you know ... we seem to be forgetting<br /> +It's only a game ... a pretty serious game<br /> +It's getting to be, when one of us is willing<br /> +To let the sheep go thirsty, for the sake of it.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I know it, Corydon.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They reach out their arms to each +other across the wall.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> [<i>prompting</i>]. <span style="margin-left: 3em;">"But how do I know?"</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Oh, yes.... But how do I know this isn't a trick<br /> +To water your sheep, and get the laugh on me?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> You can't know, that's the difficult thing about it,<br /> +Of course,—you can't be sure. You have to take<br /> +My word for it. And I know just how you feel.<br /> +But one of us has to take a risk, or else,<br /> +Why don't you see?—the game goes on forever—<br /> +It's terrible, when you stop to think of it....<br /> +Oh, Thyrsis, now for the first time I feel<br /> +This wall is actually a wall, a thing<br /> +Come up between us, shutting me away<br /> +From you.... I do not know you any more!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> No, don't say that! Oh, Corydon, I'm willing<br /> +To drop it all, if you will! Come on over<br /> +And water your sheep! It is an ugly game.<br /> +I hate it from the first.... How did it start?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> I do not know.... I do not know.... I think<br /> +I am afraid of you!—you are a stranger!<br /> +I never set eyes on you before! "Come over<br /> +And water my sheep," indeed!—They'll be more thirsty<br /> +Then they are now, before I bring them over<br /> +Into your land, and have you mixing them up<br /> +With yours, and calling them yours, and trying to keep them!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Columbine.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> [<i>to Cothurnus</i>]. Glummy, I want my hat.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Take it, and go.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Take it and go, indeed! Is it my hat,</span><br /> +Or isn't it? Is this my scene, or not?<br /> +Take it and go! Really, you know, you two<br /> +Are awfully funny!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Columbine.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Corydon, my friend,</span><br /> +I'm going to leave you now, and whittle me<br /> +A pipe, or sing a song, or go to sleep.<br /> +When you have come to your senses, let me know.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Goes back to where he has been sitting, +lies down and sleeps.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Corydon, in going back to where he +has been sitting, stumbles over +bowl, of colored confetti and colored +paper <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'ribbins'">ribbons</ins>.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> Why, what is this?—Red stones—and purple stones—<br /> +And stones stuck full of gold!—The ground is full<br /> +Of gold and colored stones!... I'm glad the wall<br /> +Was up before I found them!—Otherwise,<br /> +I should have had to share them. As it is,<br /> +They all belong to me.... Unless—<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes to wall and digs up and +down the length of it, to see if there +are jewels on the other side.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +None here—<br /> +None here—none here—They all belong to me!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sits.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> [<i>awakening</i>]. How curious! I thought the little black lamb<br /> +Came up and licked my hair! I saw the wool<br /> +About its neck as plain as anything!<br /> +It must have been a dream. The little black lamb<br /> +Is on the other side of the wall, I'm sure.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Goes to wall and looks over. Corydon +is seated on the ground, tossing +the confetti up into the air and +catching it.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Hello, what's that you've got there, Corydon?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> Jewels.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Jewels?—And where did you ever get them?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Oh, over here.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">You mean to say you found them,</span><br /> +By digging around in the ground for them?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> [<i>unpleasantly</i>]. <span style="margin-left: 2em;">No, Thyrsis.</span><br /> +By digging down for water for my sheep.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Corydon, come to the wall a minute, will you?<br /> +I want to talk to you.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">I haven't time.</span><br /> +I'm making me a necklace of red stones.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> I'll give you all the water that you want,<br /> +For one of those red stones,—if it's a good one.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> Water?—what for?—what do I want of water?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Why, for your sheep.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">My sheep?—I'm not a shepherd!</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Your sheep are dying of thirst.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Man, haven't I told you</span><br /> +I can't be bothered with a few untidy<br /> +Brown sheep all full of burdocks?—I'm a merchant,<br /> +That's what I am!—And I set my mind to it,<br /> +I dare say I could be an emperor!<br /> +[<i>To himself</i>.] Wouldn't I be a fool to spend my time<br /> +Watching a flock of sheep go up a hill,<br /> +When I have these to play with—when I have these<br /> +To think about?—I can't make up my mind<br /> +Whether to buy a city, and have a thousand<br /> +Beautiful girls to bathe me, and be happy<br /> +Until I die, or build a bridge, and name it<br /> +The Bridge of Corydon,—and be remembered<br /> +After I'm dead.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Corydon, come to the wall,</span><br /> +Won't you?—I want to tell you something.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">Hush!</span><br /> +Be off! Be off! Go finish your nap, I tell you!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Corydon, listen: If you don't want your sheep,<br /> +Give them to me.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Be off. Go finish your nap.</span><br /> +A red one—and a blue one—and a red one—<br /> +And a purple one—give you my sheep, did you say?—<br /> +Come, come! What do you take me for, a fool?<br /> +I've a lot of thinking to do,—and while I'm thinking,<br /> +The sheep might just as well be over here<br /> +As over there.... A blue one—and a red one—</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">But they will die!</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> And a green one—and a couple<br /> +Of white ones, for a change.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 9em;">Maybe I have</span><br /> +Some jewels on my side.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And another green one—</span><br /> +Maybe, but I don't think so. You see, this rock<br /> +Isn't so very wide. It stops before<br /> +It gets to the wall. It seems to go quite deep,<br /> +However.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> [<i>with hatred</i>]. I see.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> [<i>off stage</i>]. Look, Pierrot, there's the moon!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> [<i>off stage</i>]. Nonsense!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 12em;">I see.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> [<i>off stage</i>]. Sing me an old song, Pierrot,—<br /> +Something I can remember.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> [<i>off stage</i>]. <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Columbine,</span><br /> +Your mind is made of crumbs,—like an escallop<br /> +Of oysters,—first a layer of crumbs, and then<br /> +An oystery taste, and then a layer of crumbs.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> I find no jewels ... but I wonder what<br /> +The root of this black weed would do to a man<br /> +If he should taste it.... I have seen a sheep die,<br /> +With half the stalk still drooling from its mouth.<br /> +'Twould be a speedy remedy, I should think,<br /> +For a festered pride and a feverish ambition.<br /> +It has a curious root. I think I'll hack it<br /> +In little pieces.... First I'll get me a drink;<br /> +And then I'll hack that root in little pieces<br /> +As small as dust, and see what the color is<br /> +Inside. [<i>Goes to bowl on floor.</i>]<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">The pool is very clear. I see</span><br /> +A shepherd standing on the brink, with a red cloak<br /> +About him, and a black weed in his hand....<br /> +'Tis I. [<i>Kneels and drinks.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> [<i>Coming to wall</i>]. Hello, what are you doing, Thyrsis?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Digging for gold.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I'll give you all the gold</span><br /> +You want, if you'll give me a bowl of water.<br /> +If you don't want too much, that is to say.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Ho, so you've changed your mind?—It's different,<br /> +Isn't it, when you want a drink yourself?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> Of course it is.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Well, let me see ... a bowl</span><br /> +Of water,—come back in an hour, Corydon. I'm busy now.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> Oh, Thyrsis, give me a bowl<br /> +Of water!—and I'll find the bowl with jewels,<br /> +And bring it back!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Be off, I'm busy now.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He catches sight of the weed, picks +it up and looks at it, unseen by +Corydon.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Wait!—Pick me out the finest stones you have....<br /> +I'll bring you a drink of water presently.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> [<i>goes back and sits down, with the +jewels before him</i>].</p> + +<p class="noidt">A bowl of jewels is a lot of jewels.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> [<i>chopping up the weed</i>]. I wonder if it has a bitter taste?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> There's sure to be a stone or two among them<br /> +I have grown fond of, pouring them from one hand<br /> +Into the other.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">I hope it doesn't taste</span><br /> +Too bitter, just at first.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">A bowl of jewels</span><br /> +Is far too many jewels to give away....<br /> +And not get back again.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I don't believe</span><br /> +He'll notice. He's thirsty. He'll gulp it down<br /> +And never notice.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">There ought to be some way</span><br /> +To get them back again.... I could give him a necklace,<br /> +And snatch it back, after I'd drunk the water,<br /> +I suppose ... why, as for that, of course, a <i>necklace</i>....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He puts two or three of the colored +tapes together and tries their +strength by pulling them, after +which he puts them around his neck +and pulls them, gently, nodding to +himself. He gets up and goes to +the wall, with the colored tapes in +his hands.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Thyrsis in the meantime has poured +the powdered root—black confetti—into +the pot which contains +the flower and filled it up with +wine from the punch-bowl on the +floor. He comes to the wall at +the same time, holding the bowl of +poison.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Come and get your bowl of water, Corydon.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> Ah, very good!—and for such a gift as that<br /> +I'll give you more than a bowl of unset stones.<br /> +I'll give you three long necklaces, my friend.<br /> +Come closer. Here they are. [<i>Puts the ribbons about Thyrsis' neck.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> [<i>putting bowl to Corydon's +mouth</i>]. I'll hold the bowl<br /> +Until you've drunk it all.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then hold it steady.</span><br /> +For every drop you spill I'll have a stone back<br /> +Out of this chain.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I shall not spill a drop.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Corydon drinks, meanwhile beginning +to strangle Thyrsis.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> Don't pull the string so tight.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">You're spilling the water.</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> You've had enough—you've had enough—stop pulling<br /> +The string so tight!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Why, that's not tight at all....</span><br /> +How's this?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> [<i>drops bowl</i>]. You're strangling me! Oh, Corydon!<br /> +It's only a game!—and you are strangling me!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> It's only a game, is it?—Yet I believe<br /> +You've poisoned me in earnest!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Writhes and pulls the strings tighter, +winding them about Thyrsis' neck.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Thyr.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Corydon! [<i>Dies.</i>]</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Cory.</span> You've poisoned me in earnest.... I feel so cold....<br /> +So cold ... this is a very silly game....<br /> +Why do we play it?—let's not play this game<br /> +A minute more ... let's make a little song<br /> +About a lamb.... I'm coming over the wall,<br /> +No matter what you say,—I want to be near you....<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Groping his way, with arms wide +before him, he strides through the +frail papers of the wall without +knowing it, and continues seeking +for the wall straight across the +stage.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Where is the wall?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Gropes his way back, and stands +very near Thyrsis without knowing +it; he speaks slowly.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 7em;">There isn't any wall,</span><br /> +I think.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Takes a step forward, his foot +touches Thyrsis' body, and he falls +down beside him.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Thyrsis, where is your cloak?—just give me</span><br /> +A little bit of your cloak!...<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Draws corner of Thyrsis' cloak over +his shoulders, falls across Thyrsis' +body, and dies.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Cothurnus closes the prompt-book +with a bang, arises matter-of-factly, +comes down stage, and +places the table over the two bodies, +drawing down the cover so that +they are hidden from any actors on +the stage, but visible to the audience, +pushing in their feet and +hands with his boot. He then +turns his back to the audience, and +claps his hands twice.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> Strike the scene!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Cothurnus. Enter Pierrot and +Columbine.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> Don't puff so, Columbine!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Lord, what a mess</span><br /> +This set is in! If there's one thing I hate<br /> +Above everything else,—even more than getting my feet wet—<br /> +It's clutter!—He might at least have left the scene<br /> +The way he found it.... don't you say so, Pierrot?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She picks up punch bowl. They arrange +chairs as before at ends of +table.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> Well, I don't know. I think it rather diverting<br /> +The way it is.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Yawns, picks up confetti bowl.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Shall we begin?</span></p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> [<i>screams</i>]. <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My God!</span><br /> +What's that there under the table?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">It is the bodies</span><br /> +Of the two shepherds from the other play.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> [<i>slowly</i>]. How curious to strangle him like that,<br /> +With colored paper ribbons!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">Yes, and yet</span><br /> +I dare say he is just as dead.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pause. Calls Cothurnus.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Come drag these bodies out of here! We can't<br /> +Sit down and eat with two dead bodies lying<br /> +Under the table!... The audience wouldn't stand for it!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Coth.</span> [<i>off stage</i>]. What makes you think so?—Pull down the tablecloth<br /> +On the other play, and hide them from the house,<br /> +And play the farce. The audience will forget.</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> That's so. Give me a hand there, Columbine.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pierrot and Columbine pull down +the table cover in such a way that +the two bodies are hidden from +the house, then merrily set their +bowls back on the table, draw up +their chairs, and begin the play +exactly as before, speaking even +more rapidly and artificially.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> Pierrot, a macaroon,—I cannot <i>live</i><br /> +Without a macaroon!</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 7em;">My only love,</span><br /> +You are <i>so</i> intense!... Is it Tuesday, Columbine?—<br /> +I'll kiss you if it's Tuesday.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Curtains begin to close slowly.</i>]</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Colu.</span> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">It is Wednesday,</span><br /> +If you must know.... Is this my artichoke,<br /> +Or yours?</p> + +<p class="pchar"> +<span class="smcap">Pier.</span> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, Columbine, as if it mattered!</span><br /> +Wednesday.... Will it be Tuesday, then to-morrow,<br /> +By any chance?<br /> +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="HELENAS_HUSBAND" id="HELENAS_HUSBAND"></a>HELENA'S HUSBAND</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">An Historical Comedy</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Philip Moeller</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1915, by Philip Moeller.<br /> +Copyright, 1916, by Doubleday, Page & Co.<br /> +<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Helena</span>, <i>the Queen</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Tsumu</span>, <i>a black woman, slave to Helena</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Menelaus</span>, <i>the King</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Analytikos</span>, <i>the King's librarian</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Paris</span>, <i>a shepherd</i>.<br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena's Husband</span> was first produced by the Washington Square Players, under +the direction of Mr. Moeller, at the Bandbox Theatre, New York, on the night of +October 4, 1915, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>Queen of Sparta</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Noel Haddon</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>the slave</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Helen Westley</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>the King</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Frank Conroy</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>his librarian</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Walter Frankl</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>a shepherd</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Harold Meltzer</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">The scene was designed by Paul T. Frankl and the costumes by Robert Locker.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + +<p>Reprinted from "Five Somewhat Historical Plays" published by Alfred A. Knopf, +by special permission of Mr. Moeller. The professional and amateur stage rights +on this play are strictly reserved by the author. Applications for permission to +produce the play should be made to Mr. Philip Moeller, care Alfred A. Knopf, 220 +West 42nd Street, New York.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>HELENA'S HUSBAND</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">An Historical Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Philip Moeller</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene</span> <i>is that archaeological mystery, +a Greek interior. A door on the right +leads to the King's library, one on the +left to the apartment of the Queen. +Back right is the main entrance leading +to the palace. Next this, running the +full length of the wall, is a window with +a platform, built out over the main court. +Beyond is a view of hills bright with +lemon groves, and in the far distance +shimmers the sea. On the wall near the +Queen's room hangs an old shield rusty +with disuse. A bust of Zeus stands on a +pedestal against the right wall. There +are low coffers about the room from +which hang the ends of vivid colored +robes. The scene is bathed in intense +sunlight. Tsumu is massaging the +Queen.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> There's no doubt about it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> Analytikos says there is much +doubt about all things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Never mind what he says. +I envy you your complexion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>falling prostrate before Helena</i>]. +Whom the Queen envies should beware.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>annoyed</i>]. Get up, Tsumu. +You make me nervous tumbling about +like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>still on floor</i>]. Why does the +great Queen envy Tsumu?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Get up, you silly. [<i>She +kicks her.</i>] I envy you because you can +run about and never worry about getting +sunburnt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>on her knees</i>]. The radiant +beauty of the Queen is unspoilable.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> That's just what's worrying +me, Tsumu. When beauty is so perfect +the slightest jar may mean a jolt. [<i>She +goes over and looks at her reflection in +the shield.</i>] I can't see myself as well +as I would like to. The King's shield is +tarnished. Menelaus has been too long +out of battle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>handing her a hand mirror</i>]. +The Gods will keep Sparta free from +strife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span>. I'll have you beaten if you +assume that prophetic tone with me. +There's one thing I can't stand, and that's +a know-all.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Flinging the hand mirror to the +floor.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>in alarm</i>]. Gods grant you +haven't bent it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> These little mirrors are useless. +His shield is the only thing in +which I can see myself full-length. If he +only went to war, he'd have to have it +cleaned.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>putting the mirror on a table +near the Queen</i>]. The King is a lover of +peace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> The King is a lover of comfort. +Have you noticed that he spends +more time than he used to in the library?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> He is busy with questions of +State.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> You know perfectly well that +when anything's the matter with the Government +it's always straightened out at +the other end of the palace. Finish my +shoulder. [<i>She examines her arm.</i>] I +doubt if there is a finer skin than this in +Sparta.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tsumu begins to massage the Queen's +shoulder.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>taking up a mirror</i>]. That +touch of deep carmine right here in the +center of my lips was quite an idea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>busily pounding the Queen</i>]. +An inspiration of the Gods!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> The Gods have nothing to do +with it. I copied it from a low woman +I saw at the circus. I can't understand +how these bad women have such good +ideas.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Helen twists about.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> If your majesty doesn't sit +still, I may pinch you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>boxing her ears</i>]. None of +your tricks, you ebony fiend!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>crouching</i>]. Descendant of +paradise, forgive me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> If you bruise my perfect +flesh, the King will kill you. My beauty +is his religion. He can sit for hours, as +if at prayer, just examining the arch of +my foot. Tsumu, you may kiss my foot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>prostrate</i>]. May the Gods +make me worthy of your kindness!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> That's enough. Tsumu, are +you married?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>getting up</i>]. I've been so busy +having babies I never had time to get +married.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> It's a great disillusionment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>agast</i>]. What!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> I'm not complaining. Moo +Moo is the best of husbands, but sometimes +being adored too much is trying. +[<i>She sighs deeply.</i>] I think I'll wear my +heliotrope this afternoon.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A trumpet sounds below in the +courtyard. Tsumu goes to the +window.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> They are changing the guards +at the gates of the palace. It's almost +time for your bath.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She begins scraping the massage +ointment back into the box.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> You're as careful with that +ointment as Moo Moo is with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> Precious things need precious +guarding.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> It's very short-sighted on +Moo Moo's part to send everybody to the +galleys who dares lift a head when I +pass by—and all these nice-looking soldiers! +Why—the only men I ever see +besides Moo Moo are Analytikos and a +lot of useless eunuchs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> Oh, those eunuchs!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>as she sits dreaming</i>]. I wish, +I wish—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stops short.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> You have but to speak your +desire to the King.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>shocked</i>]. Tsumu! How +can you think of such a thing? I'm not +a bad woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> He would die for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>relieved</i>]. Ah! Do you +think so, Tsumu?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> All Sparta knows that His +Majesty is a lover of peace, and yet he +would rush into battle to save you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> I should love to have men +fighting for me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>in high alarm</i>]. May Zeus +turn a deaf ear to your voice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Don't be impertinent, Tsumu. +I've got to have some sort of amusement.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> You've only to wait till next +week, and you can see another of the +priestesses sacrificed to Diana.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> That doesn't interest me any +longer. The girls are positively beginning +to like it. No! My mind is set on +war.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>terrified</i>]. I have five fathers +of my children to lose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> War, or—or—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>hopefully</i>]. Have I been so +long your slave that I no longer know +your wish?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>very simply</i>]. Well, I should +like to have a lover.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>springs up and rushes over in +horror to draw the curtains across the +door of the library. All of a tremble</i>]. +Gods grant they didn't hear you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Don't be alarmed, Tsumu. +Analytikos is over eighty.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She bursts into a loud peal of laughter +and Menelaus rushes into the +room.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>in high irritation</i>]. I wish +you wouldn't make so much noise in here. +A King might at least expect quiet in his +own palace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Tsumu, see if my bath is +ready. [<i>Tsumu exits.</i>] You used not +speak like that to me, Moo Moo.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>in a temper</i>]. How many +times must I tell you that my name is +Menelaus and that it isn't "Moo Moo"?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>sweetly</i>]. I'll never do it +again, Moo Moo. [<i>She giggles.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Your laugh gets on my +nerves. It's louder than it used to be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> If you wish it, I'll never, +never laugh again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> You've promised that too +often.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>sadly</i>]. Things are not as +they used to be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Are you going to start that +again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>with a tinge of melancholy</i>]. +I suppose you'd like me to be still and +sad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. Is it too much to +hope that you might be still and happy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>speaking very quickly and +tragically</i>]. Don't treat me cruelly, Moo +Moo. You don't understand me. No +man ever really understands a woman. +There are terrible depths to my nature. +I had a long talk with Dr. Æsculapius +only last week, and he told me I'm too +introspective. It's the curse of us emotional +women. I'm really quite worried, +but much you care, much you care. [<i>A +note of tears comes into her voice.</i>] I'm +sure you don't love me any more, Moo +Moo. No! No! Don't answer me! If +you did you couldn't speak to me the +way you do. I've never wronged you +in deed or in thought. No, never—never. +I've given up my hopes and aspirations, +because I knew you wanted me +around you. And now, NOW—[<i>She +can contain the tears no longer.</i>] Because +I have neglected my beauty and +because I am old and ugly, you regret +that Ulysses or Agamemnon didn't marry +me when you all wanted me, and I know +you curse the day you ever saw me.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She is breathless.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>fuming</i>]. Well! Have you +done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> No. I could say a great deal +more, but I'm not a talkative woman.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Analytikos comes in from the library.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Your Majesty, are we to +read no longer to-day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> I have something to say to +the King.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Analytikos goes toward the library. +Menelaus anxiously stops him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> No. Stay here. You are +a wise man and well understand the wisdom +of the Queen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>bowing to Helena</i>]. Helena +is wise as she is beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> She is attempting to prove +to me in a thousand words that she's a +silent woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Women are seldom silent. +[<i>Helen resents this.</i>] Their beauty +is forever speaking for them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> The years have, indeed, +taught you wisdom.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tsumu enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> The almond water awaits +your majesty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> I hope you haven't forgotten +the chiropodist.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> He has been commanded but +he's always late. He's so busy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>in a purring tone to Menelaus</i>]. +Moo Moo.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Menelaus, bored, turns away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>to Tsumu</i>]. I think after all +I'll wear my Sicily blue.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She and Tsumu go into the Queen's +apartment.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Shall we go back to the +library?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> My mind is unhinged +again—that woman with her endless protestations.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> I am sorry the poets no +longer divert you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> A little poetry is always +too much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> To-morrow we will try +the historians.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> No! Not the historians. +I want the truth for a change.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> The truth!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Where in books can I find +escape from the grim reality of being +hitched for life to such a wife? Bah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Philosophy teaches—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Why have the Gods made +woman necessary to man, and made them +fools?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> For seventy years I have +been resolving the problem of woman +and even at my age—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Give it up, old man. The +answer is—don't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Such endless variety, +and yet—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>with the conviction of finality</i>]. +There are only two sorts of women! +Those who are failures and those who +realize it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Is not Penelope, the +model wife of your cousin Ulysses, an +exception?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Duty is the refuge of the +unbeautiful. She is as commonplace as +she is ugly. [<i>And then with deep bitterness.</i>] +Why didn't <i>he</i> marry Helen when +we all wanted her? He was too wise for +that. He is the only man I've ever known +who seems able to direct destiny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> You should not blame +the Gods for a lack of will.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>shouting</i>]. Will! Heaven +knows I do not lack the will to rid myself +of this painted puppet, but where is +the instrument ready to my hand?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>At this moment a Shepherd of Apollonian +beauty leaps across the rail +of the balcony and bounds into the +room. Menelaus and Analytikos +start back in amazement.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Who are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> An adventurer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Then you have reached +the end of your story. In a moment you +will die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I have no faith in prophets.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> The soldiers of the King +will give you faith. Don't you know that +it means death for any man to enter the +apartments of the Queen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>looking from one to the other</i>]. +Oh! So you're a couple of eunuchs.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Though nearly eighty this is too +much for Analytikos to bear. He +rushes to call the guard, but Menelaus +stops him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>to Analytikos</i>]. Thanks.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> You thank me for telling +you your doom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> No—for convincing me that +I'm where I want to be. It's taken me +a long while, but I knew I'd get here. +[<i>And then very intimately to Menelaus.</i>] +Where's the Queen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Where do you come from?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> From the hills. I had come +down into the market-place to sell my +sheep. I had my hood filled with apples. +They were golden-red like a thousand +sunsets.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>annoyed</i>]. You might skip +those bucolic details.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> At the fair I met three ancient +gypsies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> What have they to do with +you coming here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> You don't seem very patient. +Can't I tell my story in my own way? +They asked me for the apple I was eating +and I asked them what they'd give +for it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> I'm not interested in market +quotations.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> You take everything so literally. +I'm sure you're easily bored.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>with meaning</i>]. I am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>going on cheerfully</i>]. The first +was to give me all the money she could +beg, and the second was to tell me all +the truth she could learn by listening, +and the third promised me a pretty girl. +So I chose—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He hesitates.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> You cannot escape by +spinning out your tale.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Death is the end of one story +and the beginning of another.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Well! Well! Come to the +point. Which did you choose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. Well, you see I'd been +in the hills for a long while, so I picked +the girl.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> It would have been better +for you if you had chosen wisdom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I knew you'd say that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> I have spoken truly. In +a moment you will die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> It is because the old have forgotten +life that they preach wisdom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> So you chose the girl? +Well, go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> This made the other cronies +angry, and when I tossed her the apple +one of the others yelped at me: "You +may as well seek the Queen of Sparta: +she is the fairest of women." And as I +turned away I heard their laughter, but +the words had set my heart aflame and +though it cost me my life, I'll follow the +adventure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>scandalized</i>]. Haven't +we heard enough of this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>deeply</i>]. No! I want to +hear how the story ends. It may amuse +the King.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He makes a sign to Analytikos.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> And on the ship at night I +looked long at the stars and dreamed of +possessing Helen.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Analytikos makes an involuntary +movement toward the balcony, but +Menelaus stops him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Desire has been my guiding +Mercury; the Fates are with me, and +here I am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> The wrath of the King +will show you no mercy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>nonchalantly</i>]. I'm not afraid +of the King. He's fat, and—a fool.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Shall I call the guards?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Menelaus stops him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>very significantly</i>]. So you +would give your life for a glimpse of +the Queen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>swiftly</i>]. Yes! My immortal +soul, and if the fables tell the truth, the +sight will be worth the forfeit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>suddenly jumping up</i>]. It +shall be as you wish!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>buoyantly</i>]. Venus has smiled +on me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> In there beyond the library +you will find a room with a bath. Wait +there till I call you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Is this some trick to catch me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> A Spartan cannot lie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> What will happen to you if +the King hears of this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> I will answer for the king. +Go.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Paris exits into the library.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>rubbing his hands</i>]. +Shall I order the boiling oil?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>surprised</i>]. Oil?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Now that he is being +cleaned for the sacrifice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> His torture will be greater +than being boiled alive.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>eagerly</i>]. You'll have +him hurled from the wall of the palace +to a forest of waiting spears below?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> None is so blind as he who +sees too much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Your majesty is subtle +in his cruelty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Haven't the years taught +you the cheapness of revenge?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>mystified</i>]. You do not +intend to alter destiny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Never before has destiny +been so clear to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Then the boy must die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>with slow determination</i>]. +No! He has been sent by the Gods to +save me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Your majesty!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He is trembling with apprehension.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>with unbudgeable conviction</i>]. +Helena must elope with him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>falling into a seat</i>]. Ye +Gods!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>quietly</i>]. I couldn't divorce +the Queen. That would set a bad +example.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Yes, very.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> I couldn't desert her. +That would be beneath my honor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>deeply</i>]. Was there no +other way?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>pompously</i>]. The King +can do no wrong, and besides I hate the +smell of blood. Are you a prophet as +well as a scholar? Will she go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> To-night I will read the +stars.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>meaningfully</i>]. By to-night +I'll not need you to tell me. +[<i>Analytikos sits deep in thought.</i>] +Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Ethics cite no precedent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Do you mean to say I'm +not justified?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>cogitating</i>]. Who can +establish the punctilious ratio between +necessity and desire?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>beginning to fume</i>]. This +is no time for language. Just put yourself +in my place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Being you, how can I +judge as I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>losing control</i>]. May you +choke on your dialectics! Zeus himself +could have stood it no longer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Have you given her soul +a chance to grow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Her soul, indeed! It's +shut in her rouge pot. [<i>He has been +strutting about. Suddenly he sits down +crushing a roll of papyrus. He takes it +up and in utter disgust reads.</i>] "The +perfect hip, its development and permanence." +Bah! [<i>He flings it to the floor.</i>] +I've done what I had to do, and Gods +grant the bait may be sweet enough to +catch the Queen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> If you had diverted yourself +with a war or two you might have +forgotten your troubles at home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>frightened</i>]. I detest dissension +of any kind—my dream was perpetual +peace in comfortable domesticity +with a womanly woman to warm my sandals.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Is not the Queen—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> No! No! The whole +world is but her mirror. And I'm expected +to face that woman every morning +at breakfast for the rest of my life, +and by Venus that's more than even a +King can bear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Even a King cannot alter +destiny. I warn you, whom the Gods +have joined together—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>in an outburst</i>]. Is for +man to break asunder!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>deeply shocked</i>]. You +talk like an atheist.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> I never allow religion to +interfere with life. Go call the victim +and see that he be left alone with the +Queen.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Menelaus exits and Analytikos goes +over to the door of the library and +summons Paris, who enters clad in +a gorgeous robe.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I found this in there. It looks +rather well, doesn't it? Ah! So you're +alone. I suppose that stupid friend of +yours has gone to tell the King. When +do I see the Queen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> At once.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes to the door of the Queen's +apartment and claps his hand. +Tsumu enters and at the sight of +her Paris recoils the full length of +the room.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I thought the Queen was a +blonde!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Tell Her Majesty a +stranger awaits her here.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tsumu exits, her eyes wide on +Paris.</i>]</p> + +<p>You should thank the Gods for this +moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>his eyes on the door</i>]. You do +it for me. I can never remember all their +names.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Helena enters clad in her Sicily blue, +crowned with a garland of golden +flowers. She and Paris stand +riveted, looking at each other. +Their attitude might be described +as fantastic. Analytikos watches +them for a moment and then with +hands and head lifted to heaven he +goes into the library.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>quivering with emotion</i>]. I +have the most strange sensation of having +seen you before. Something I can't +explain—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>quite practically</i>]. Please +don't bother about all sorts of fine distinctions. +Under the influence of Analytikos +and my husband, life has become a +mess of indecision. I'm a simple, direct +woman and I expect you to say just what +you think.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Do you? Very well, then—[<i>He comes a step nearer to her.</i>] Fate +is impelling me toward you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Yes. That's much better. +So you're a fatalist. It's very Greek. I +don't see what our dramatists would do +without it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> In my country there are no +dramatists. We are too busy with reality.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Your people must be uncivilized +barbarians.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> My people are a genuine people. +There is but one thing we worship.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Don't tell me it's money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> It's—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Analytikos says if there +weren't any money, there wouldn't be +any of those ridiculous socialists.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> It isn't money. It's sincerity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> I, too, believe in sincerity. +It's the loveliest thing in the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> And the most dangerous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> The truth is never dangerous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Except when told.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>making room on the couch +for him to sit next to her</i>]. You mustn't +say wicked things to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Can your theories survive a +test?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>beautifully</i>]. Truth is eternal +and survives all tests.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> No. Perhaps, after all, your +soul is not ready for the supremest +heights.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Do you mean to say I'm not +religious? Religion teaches the meaning +of love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Has it taught you to love your +husband?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>starting up and immediately +sitting down again</i>]. How dare you +speak to me like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> You see. I was right.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes toward the balcony.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>stopping him</i>]. Whatever +made you think so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I've heard people talk of the +King. You could never love a man like +that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>beautifully</i>]. A woman's first +duty is to love her husband.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> There is a higher right than +duty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>with conviction</i>]. Right is +right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>with admiration</i>]. The world +has libeled you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Me! The Queen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> You are as wise as you are +beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>smiling coyly</i>]. Why, you +hardly know me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I know you! I, better than all +men.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> You?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i><ins class="correction" title="original reads 'rupturously'">rapturously</ins></i>]. Human law has +given you to Menelaus, but divine law +makes you mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>in amazement</i>]. What!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I alone appreciate your beauty. +I alone can reach your soul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> You hate your husband!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>drawing back</i>]. Why do you +look at me like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> To see if there's one woman in +the world who dares tell the truth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> My husband doesn't understand +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>with conviction</i>]. I knew you +detested him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> He never listens to my aspirations.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Egoist.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>assuming an irresistible pose</i>]. +I'm tired of being only lovely. He doesn't +realize the meaning of spiritual intercourse, +of soul communion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Fool!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> You dare call Moo Moo a +fool?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Has he not been too blind to +see that your soul outshines your beauty? +[<i>Then, very dramatically.</i>] You're stifling!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>clearing her throat</i>]. I—I—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> He has made you sit upon your +wings. [<i>Helena, jumping up, shifts her +position.</i>] You are groping in the darkness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Don't be silly. It's very light +in here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>undisturbed</i>]. You are stumbling, +and I have come to lead you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He steps toward her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Stop right there! [<i>Paris +stops.</i>] No man but the King can come +within ten feet of me. It's a court tradition.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Necessity knows no tradition. +[<i>He falls on his knees before her.</i>] I +shall come close to you, though the flame +of your beauty consume me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> You'd better be careful what +you say to me. Remember I'm the +Queen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> No man weighs his words who +has but a moment to live.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> You said that exactly like an +actor. [<i>He leans very close to her.</i>] +What are you doing now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I am looking into you. You +are the clear glass in which I read the +secret of the universe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> The secret of the universe. +Ah! Perhaps you could understand me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> First you must understand +yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>instinctively taking up a mirror</i>]. +How?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> You must break with all this +prose. [<i>With an unconscious gesture he +sweeps a tray of toilet articles from the +table. Helena emits a little shriek.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> The ointment!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>rushing to the window and +pointing to the distance</i>]. And climb to +infinite poesie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>catching his enthusiasm, says +very blandly</i>]. There is nothing in the +world like poetry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>lyrically</i>]. Have you ever heard +the poignant breathing of the stars?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> No. I don't believe in astrology.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Have you ever smelt the powdery +mists of the sun?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> I should sneeze myself to +death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Have you ever listened to the +sapphire soul of the sea?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Has the sea a soul? But +please don't stop talking. You do it so +beautifully.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Deeds are sweeter than words. +Shall we go hand in hand to meet eternity?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>not comprehending him</i>]. +That's very pretty. Say it again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>passionately</i>]. There's but a +moment of life left me. I shall stifle it +in ecstasy. Helena, Helena, I adore +you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>jumping up in high surprise</i>]. +You're not making love to me, you +naughty boy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Helena.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> You've spoken to me so little, +and already you dare to do that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>impetuously</i>]. I am a lover of +life. I skip the inessentials.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Remember who I am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I have not forgotten, Daughter +of Heaven. [<i>Suddenly he leaps to his +feet.</i>] Listen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Shhh! That's the King and +Analytikos in the library.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> No! No! Don't you hear the +flutter of wings?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Wings?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>ecstatically</i>]. Venus, mother of +Love!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>alarmed</i>]. What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> She has sent her messenger. I +hear the patter of little feet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Those little feet are the soldiers +below in the courtyard.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A trumpet sounds.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>the truth of the situation breaking +through his emotion</i>]. In a moment +I shall be killed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Killed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Save me and save yourself!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Myself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I shall rescue you and lead you +on to life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> No one has even spoken to +me like that before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> This is the first time your ears +have heard the truth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Was it of you I've been +dreaming?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Your dream was but your unrealized +desire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Menelaus has never made me +feel like this. [<i>And then with a sudden +shriek.</i>] Oh! I'm a wicked woman!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> No! No!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> For years I've been living +with a man I didn't love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Yes! Yes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> I'm lost!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>at a loss</i>]. No! Yes! Yes! +No!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> It was a profanation of the +most holy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> The holiest awaits you, Helena! +Our love will lighten the Plutonian +realms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Menelaus never spoke to me +like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> 'Tis but the first whisper of +my adoration.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> I can't face him every morning +at breakfast for the rest of my life. +That's even more than a Queen can +bear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I am waiting to release you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> I've stood it for seven years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> I've been coming to you since +the beginning of time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> There is something urging +me to go with you, something I do not +understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Quick! There is but a moment +left us.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He takes her rapturously in his +arms. There is a passionate embrace +in the midst of which Tsumu +enters.</i>]</p> + +<p>Tsumu. The chiropodist has come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Bring me my outer garment +and my purse.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tsumu exits, her eyes wide on +Paris.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> Helena! Helena!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Helena looks about her and takes +up the papyrus that Menelaus has +flung to the floor.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> A last word to the King. +[<i>She looks at the papyrus.</i>] No, this +won't do; I shall have to take this with +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris.</span> What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena.</span> Maskanda's discourse on the +hip.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A trumpet sounds below in the +courtyard.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. Leave it—or your +hip may cost me my head. We haven't +a minute to spare. Hurry! Hurry!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Helena takes up an eyebrow pencil +and writes on the back of the papyrus. +She looks for a place to put +it and seeing the shield she smears +it with some of the ointment and +sticks the papyrus to it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>watching her in ecstasy</i>]. You +are the fairest of all fair women and +your name will blaze as a symbol throughout +eternity.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tsumu enters with the purse and +the Queen's outer robe.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>tossing the purse to Paris</i>]. +Here, we may need this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>throwing it back to Tsumu</i>]. +This for your silence, daughter of darkness. +A prince has no need of purses.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>looking at him</i>]. A prince!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helena</span> [<i>gloriously</i>]. My prince of +poetry. My deliverer!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Paris</span> [<i>divinely</i>]. My queen of love!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They go out, Tsumu looking after +them in speechless amazement. +Suddenly she sees the papyrus on +the shield, runs over and reads it +and then rushes to the door of the +library.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>calling</i>]. Analytikos.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She hides the purse in her bosom. +Analytikos enters, scroll in hand.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Has the Queen summoned +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>mysteriously</i>]. A terrible +thing has happened.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> What's the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> Where's the King?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> In the library.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> I have news more precious +than the gold of Midas.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>giving her a purse</i>]. +Well! What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>speaking very dramatically and +watching the effect of her words</i>]. The +Queen has deserted Menelaus.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>receiving the shock philosophically</i>]. +Swift are the ways of Nature. +The Gods have smiled upon him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> The Gods have forsaken the +King to smile upon a prince.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> He was a prince.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>apprehensively</i>]. Why do +you say that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>clutching her bosom</i>]. I have +a good reason to know. [<i>There is a sound +of voices below in the courtyard. Menelaus +rushes in expectantly. Tsumu falls +prostrate before him.</i>] Oh, King, in thy +bottomless agony blame not a blameless +negress. The Queen has fled!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>in his delight forgetting +himself and flinging her a purse</i>]. Is it +true?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> Woe! Woe is me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>storming</i>]. Out of my +sight, you eyeless Argus!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>to Tsumu</i>]. Quick, send +a messenger. Find out who he was.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tsumu sticks the third purse in her +bosom and runs out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>with radiant happiness, +kneeling before the bust of Zeus</i>]. Ye +Gods, I thank ye. Peace and a happy +life at last.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The shouts in the courtyard grow +louder.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> The news has spread +through the palace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>in trepidation, springing +up</i>]. No one would dare stop the progress +of the Queen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>rushes in and prostrates herself +before the King</i>]. Woe is me! They +have gone by the road to the harbor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>anxiously</i>]. Yes! Yes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> By the King's orders no man +has dared gaze upon Her Majesty. They +all fell prostrate before her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Good! Good! [<i>Attempting +to cover his delight.</i>] Go! Go! You +garrulous dog.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tsumu gets up and points to shield. +Analytikos and the King look toward +it. Analytikos tears off the +papyrus and brings it to Menelaus. +Tsumu, watching them, +exits.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>reading</i>]. "I am not a bad +woman. I did what I had to do." How +Greek to blame fate for what one wants +to do.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tsumu again comes tumbling in.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>again prostrate before the +King</i>]. A rumor flies through the city. +He—he—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>anxiously</i>]. Well? Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> He—he—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>furiously to Analytikos</i>]. +Rid me of this croaking raven.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> Evil has fallen on Sparta. +He—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Yes—yes—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>in a rage</i>]. Out of my +sight, perfidious Nubian.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sounds of confusion in the courtyard. +Suddenly she springs to her +feet and yells at the top of her +voice.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu.</span> He was Paris, Prince of +Troy!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They all start back. Analytikos +stumbles into a seat. Menelaus +turns pale. Tsumu leers like a +black Nemesis.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>very ominously</i>]. Who +can read the secret of the Fates?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>frightened</i>]. What do you +mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> He is the son of Priam, +King of Troy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Tsumu</span> [<i>adding fuel</i>]. And of Hecuba, +Queen of the Trojans.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She rushes out to spread the news.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> That makes the matter +international.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>quickly</i>]. But we have +treaties with Troy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Circumstances alter treaties. +They will mean nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Nothing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> No more than a scrap of +papyrus. Sparta will fight to regain her +Queen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> But I don't want her back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Can you tell that to +Sparta? Remember, the King can do no +wrong. Last night I dreamed of war.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> No! No! Don't say that. +After the scandal I can't be expected to +fight to get her back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Sparta will see with the +eyes of chivalry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>fuming</i>]. But I don't believe +in war.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>still obdurate</i>]. Have +you forgotten the oath pledged of old, +with Ulysses and Agamemnon? They +have sworn, if ever the time came, to +fight and defend the Queen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. I didn't think of +the triple alliance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Can Sparta ask less of +her King?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus.</span> Let's hear the other side. +We can perhaps arbitrate. Peace at any +price.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Some bargains are too +cheap.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>hopelessly</i>]. But I am a +pacifist.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> You are Menelaus of +Sparta, and Sparta's a nation of soldiers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Menelaus</span> [<i>desperately</i>]. I am too +proud to fight!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos.</span> Here, put on your shield. +[<i>A great clamor comes up from the courtyard, +Analytikos steps out on the balcony +and is greeted with shouts of "The +King! The King!" Addressing the +crowd.</i>] People of Sparta, this calamity +has been forced upon us. [<i>Menelaus +winces.</i>] We are a peaceful people. But +thanks to our unparalleled efficiency, the +military system of Sparta is the most +powerful in all Greece and we can mobilize +in half an hour.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Loud acclaims from the people. +Menelaus, the papyrus still in hand, +crawls over and attempts to stop +Analytikos.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Analytikos</span> [<i>not noticing him</i>]. In the +midst of connubial and communal peace +the thunderbolt has fallen on the King. +[<i>Menelaus tugs at Analytikos' robe.</i>] +Broken in spirit as he is, he is already +pawing the ground like a battle steed. +Never will we lay down our arms! We +and Jupiter! [<i>Cheers.</i>] Never until +the Queen is restored to Menelaus. +Never, even if it takes ten years. [<i>Menelaus +squirms. A loud cheer.</i>] Even now +the King is buckling on his shield. +[<i>More cheers. Analytikos steps farther +forward and then with bursting eloquence.</i>] +One hate we have and one +alone! [<i>Yells from below.</i>]</p> + +<p> +Hate by water and hate by land,<br /> +Hate of the head and hate of the hand,<br /> +Hate of Paris and hate of Troy<br /> +That has broken the Queen for a moment's toy.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The yells grow fiercer.</i>]</p> + +<p> +Zeus' thunder will shatter the Trojan throne.<br /> +We have one hate and one alone!<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Menelaus sits on the floor dejectedly +looking at the papyrus. A thunder +of voices from the people.</i>]</p> + +<p>We have one hate and one alone. Troy! +Troy!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Helmets and swords are thrown into +the air. The cheers grow tumultuous, +trumpets are blown, and the</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><i>Curtain falls.</i>]</p> + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SHADOWED_STAR" id="THE_SHADOWED_STAR"></a>THE SHADOWED STAR</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Mary MacMillan</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1913, by Stewart & Kidd Company.<br /> + +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CAST</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Woman</span>, <i>the mother</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">An Old Woman</span>, <i>the grandmother</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Two Girls</span>, <i>the daughters</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Messenger Boy</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Neighbor</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Another Neighbor</span>.<br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p> </p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Shadowed Star</span> is reprinted from "Short Plays" by Mary MacMillan by permission +of Messrs. Stewart & Kidd Company, Cincinnati, Ohio. The acting rights +of this play are reserved by the author. Address all correspondence to the author +in regard to production.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE SHADOWED STAR</h2> + +<p class="center"><big><span class="smcap">By Mary MacMillan</span></big></p> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>A very bare room in a tenement house, +uncarpeted, the boards being much worn, +and from the walls the bluish whitewash +has scaled away; in the front on one side +is a cooking-stove, and farther back on +the same side a window; on the opposite +side is a door opening into a hallway; in +the middle of the room there is a round, +worn dining-room table, on which stands +a stunted, scraggly bit of an evergreen-tree; +at the back of the room, near the +window, stands an old-fashioned safe with +perforated tin front; next it a door opening +into an inner room, and next it in +the corner a bed, on which lies a <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'palid'">pallid</ins> +woman; another woman, very old, sits in +a rocking-chair in front of the stove and +rocks. There is silence for a long space, +the old woman rocking and the woman on +the bed giving an occasional low sigh or +groan. At last the old woman speaks.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> David an' Michael +might be kapin' the Christmas wid us to-morrow +night if we hadn't left the ould +counthry. They'd never be crossin' the +sea—all the many weary miles o' wetness +an' fog an' cold to be kapin' it wid +us here in this great house o' brick walls +in a place full o' strange souls. They +would never be for crossin' all that +weary, cold, green wather, groanin' an' +tossin' like it was the grave o' sivin thousan' +divils. Ah, but it would be a black +night at sea! [<i>She remains silent for a +few minutes, staring at the stove and +rocking slowly.</i>] If they hadn't to cross +that wet, cold sea they'd maybe come. +But wouldn't they be afeard o' this great +city, an' would they iver find us here? +Six floors up, an' they niver off the +ground in their lives. What would ye be +thinkin'? [<i>The other woman does not +answer her. She then speaks petulantly.</i>] +What would ye be thinkin'? +Mary, have ye gone clane to slape? +[<i>Turns her chair and peers around the +back of it at the pallid woman on the +bed, who sighs and answers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> No, I on'y wisht I +could. Maybe they'll come—I don't +know, but father an' Michael wasn't +much for thravel. [<i>After a pause and +very wearily.</i>] Maybe they'll not come, +yet [<i>slowly</i>], maybe I'll be kapin' the +Christmas wid them there. [<i>The Old +Woman seems not to notice this, wandering +from her question back to her memories.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> No, they'll niver be +lavin' the ould land, the green land, the +home land. I'm wishing I was there wid +thim. [<i>Another pause, while she stares +at the stove.</i>] Maybe we'd have a duck +an' potatoes, an' maybe something to +drink to kape us warm against the cold. +An' the boys would all be dancin' an' the +girls have rosy cheeks. [<i>There is another +pause, and then a knock at the +door. "Come in," the two women call, +in reedy, weak voices, and a thin, slatternly +Irish woman enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> God avnin' to ye; I +came in to ask if I might borrow the loan +o' a bit o' tay, not havin' a leaf of it +left.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> We have a little left, +just enough we was savin' for ourselves +to-night, but you're welcome to it—maybe +the girls will bring some. Will +ye get it for her, mother? Or she can +help herself—it's in the safe. It's on +the lower shelf among the cups an' saucers +an' plates. [<i>The Old Woman and +Neighbor go to the safe and hunt for the +tea, and do not find it readily. The safe +has little in it but a few cracked and +broken dishes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor</span> [<i>holding up a tiny paper +bag with an ounce perhaps of tea in it.</i>] +It's just a scrap!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> To be sure! We +use so much tay! We're that exthravagant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> It hurts me to take it +from ye—maybe I'd better not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> The girls will bring +more. We always have a cupboard full +o' things. We're always able to lend to +our neighbors.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> It's in great luck, ye +are. For some of us be so poor we don't +know where the next bite's comin' from. +An' this winter whin iverything's so high +an' wages not raised, a woman can't find +enough to cook for her man's dinner. +It isn't that ye don't see things—oh, +they're in the markets an' the shops, an' +it makes yer mouth wather as ye walk +along the sthrates this day before the +Christmas to see the turkeys an' the ducks +ye'll niver ate, an' the little pigs an' the +or'nges an' bananies an' cranberries an' +the cakes an' nuts an'—it's worse, I'm +thinkin', to see thim whin there's no +money to buy than it was in the ould +counthry, where there was nothing to buy +wid the money ye didn't have.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> It's all one to us poor +folk whether there be things to buy or +not. [<i>She speaks gaspingly, as one who +is short of breath.</i>] I'm on'y thinkin' o' +the clane air at home—if I could have +a mornin' o' fresh sunshine—these fogs +an' smoke choke me so. The girls would +take me out to the counthry if they had +time an' I'd get well. But they haven't +time. [<i>She falls into a fit of coughing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> But it's like to be +bright on Christmas Day. It wouldn't +iver be cloudy on Christmas Day, an' +maybe even now the stars would be crapin' +out an' the air all clear an' cold an' +the moon a-shinin' an' iverything so sthill +an' quiet an' bleamin' an' breathless +[<i>her voice falls almost to a whisper</i>], +awaitin' on the Blessed Virgin. [<i>She +goes to the window, lifts the blind, and +peers out, then throws up the sash and +leans far out. After a moment she pulls +the sash down again and the blind and +turns to those in the room with the look +of pathetic disappointment in little things, +of the aged.</i>] No, there's not a sthar, not +one little twinklin' sthar, an' how'll the +shepherds find their way? Iverything's +dull an' black an' the clouds are hangin' +down heavy an' sthill. How'll the shepherds +find their way without the sthar +to guide thim? [<i>Then almost whimpering.</i>] +An' David an' Michael will niver +be crossin' that wet, black sea! An' the +girls—how'll they find their way home? +They'll be lost somewhere along by the +hedges. Ohone, ohone!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> Now, grannie, what +would ye be sayin'? There's niver a +hedge anywhere but granite blocks an' +electric light poles an' plenty o' light in +the city for thim to see all their way +home. [<i>Then to the woman.</i>] Ain't +they late?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> They're always late, an' +they kape gettin' lather an' lather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> Yis, av coorse, the +sthores is all open in the avnin's before +Christmas.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> They go so early in the +mornin' an' get home so late at night, an' +they're so tired.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor</span> [<i>whiningly</i>]. They're +lucky to be young enough to work an' +not be married. I've got to go home +to the childer an' give thim their tay. +Pat's gone to the saloon again, an' to-morrow +bein' Christmas I misdoubt he'll +be terrible dhrunk again, an' me on'y +jist well from the blow in the shoulder +the last time. [<i>She wipes her eyes and +moves towards the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Sthay an' kape +Christmas wid us. We're goin' to have +our celebratin' to-night on Christmas Eve, +the way folks do here. I like it best on +Christmas Day, the way 'tis in the ould +counthry, but here 'tis Christmas Eve +they kape. We're waitin' for the girls to +come home to start things—they knowin' +how—Mary an' me on'y know how +to kape Christmas Day as 'tis at home. +But the girls'll soon be here, an' they'll +have the three an' do the cookin' an' all, +an' we'll kape up the jollity way into the +night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor</span> [<i>looks questioningly +and surprised at the Woman, whose eyes +are on the mother.</i>] Nay, if Pat came +home dhrunk an' didn't find me, he'd kill +me. We have all to be movin' on to our +own throubles. [<i>She goes out, and the +old woman leaves the Christmas-tree +which she has been fingering and admiring, +and sits down in the rocking-chair +again. After a while she croons to herself +in a high, broken voice. This lasts +some time, when there is the noise of a +slamming door and then of footsteps approaching.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> If I could on'y be in +the counthry!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Maybe that would +be the girls! [<i>She starts tremblingly to +her feet, but the steps come up to the +door and go by.</i>] If David and Michael +was to come now an' go by—there bein' +no sthar to guide thim!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Nay, mother, 'twas the +shepherds that was guided by the sthar +an' to the bed o' the Blessed Babe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Aye, so 'twas. +What be I thinkin' of? The little Blessed +Babe! [<i>She smiles and sits staring at +the stove again for a little.</i>] But they +could not find Him to-night. 'Tis so +dark an' no sthars shinin.' [<i>After another +pause.</i>] An' what would shepherds +do in a ghreat city? 'Twould be +lost they'd be, quicker than in any bog. +Think ye, Mary, that the boys would be +hootin' thim an' the p'lice, maybe, would +want to be aristin' thim for loitherin'. +They'd niver find the Blessed Babe, an' +they'd have to be movin' on. [<i>Another +pause, and then there is the sound of approaching +footsteps again. The Old +Woman grasps the arms of her chair and +leans forward, intently listening.</i>]—That +would sure be the girls this time! [<i>But +again the footsteps go by. The Old +Woman sighs.</i>] Ah, but 'tis weary +waitin'! [<i>There is another long pause.</i>] +'Twas on that day that David an' me +was plighted—a brave Christmas Day +wid a shinin' sun an' a sky o' blue wid +fair, white clouds. An' David an' me +met at the early mass in the dark o' the +frosty mornin' afore the sun rose—an' +there was all day good times an' a duck +for dinner and puddin's an' a party at the +O'Brady's in the evenin', whin David an' +me danced. Ah, but he was a beautiful +dancer, an' me, too—I was as light on +my feet as a fairy. [<i>She begins to croon +an old dance tune and hobbles to her +feet, and, keeping time with her head, +tries a grotesque and feeble sort of dancing. +Her eyes brighten and she smiles +proudly.</i>] Aye, but I danced like a +fairy, an' there was not another couple +so sprightly an' handsome in all the +country. [<i>She tires, and, looking pitiful +and disappointed, hobbles back to +her chair, and drops into it again.</i>] Ah, +but I be old now, and the strength fails +me. [<i>She falls into silence for a few +minutes.</i>] 'Twas the day before <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'the the'">the</ins> +little man, the little white dove, my +next Christmas that Michael was born—little +son! [<i>There is a moment's pause, +and then the pallid woman on the bed +has a violent fit of coughing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Mother, could ye get +me a cup o' wather? If the girls was +here to get me a bite to ate, maybe it +would kape the breath in me the night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman</span> [<i>starts and stares at +her daughter, as if she hardly comprehended +the present reality. She gets up +and goes over to the window under which +there is a pail full of water. She dips +some out in a tin cup and carries it to +her bed.</i>] Ye should thry to get up an' +move about some, so ye can enjoy the +Christmas threat. 'Tis bad bein' sick on +Christmas. Thry, now, Mary, to sit up +a bit. The girls'll be wantin' ye to be +merry wid the rest av us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman</span> [<i>looking at her mother +with a sad wistfulness</i>]. I wouldn't spoil +things for the girls if I could help. +Maybe, mother, if ye'd lift me a little I +could sit up. [<i>The Old Woman tugs at +her, and she herself tries hard to get +into a sitting posture, but after some +effort and panting for breath, she falls +back again. After a pause for rest, she +speaks gaspingly.</i>] Maybe I'll feel +sthronger lather whin the girls come +home—they could help me—[<i>with the +plaint of longing in her voice</i>] they be so +late! [<i>After another pause.</i>] Maybe I'll +be sthrong again in the mornin'—if I'd +had a cup of coffee.—Maybe I could get +up—an' walk about—an' do the cookin'. +[<i>There is a knock at the door, and +again they call, "Come in," in reedy, +weak voices. There enters a little messenger +boy in a ragged overcoat that +reaches almost to his heels. His eyes +are large and bright, his face pale +and dirty, and he is fearfully tired and +worn.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Why, Tim, boy, come +in. Sit ye down an' rest, ye're lookin' +weary.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Come to the stove, +Timmie, man, an' warm yourself. We +always kape a warm room an' a bright +fire for visitors.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> I was awful cold an' hungry +an' I come home to get somethin' to +eat before. I started out on another +trip, but my sisters ain't home from the +store yit, an' the fire's gone out in the +stove, an' the room's cold as outside. I +thought maybe ye'd let me come in here +an' git warm.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Poor orphan! Poor +lamb! To be shure ye shall get warm by +our sthove.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> The cars are so beastly col' +an' so crowded a feller mostly has to +stand on the back platform. [<i>The Old +Woman takes him by the shoulder and +pushes him toward the stove, but he resists.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> No, thank ye—I don't +want to go so near yet; my feet's all +numb an' they allays hurt so when they +warms up fast.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Thin sit ye down +off from the sthove. [<i>Moves the rocking-chair +farther away from the stove for +him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> If ye don't mind I'd rather +stand on 'em 'til they gets a little used +to it. They been numb off an' on mos' +all day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Soon as yer sisters +come, Timmie, ye'd betther go to bed—'tis +the best place to get warm.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> I can't—I got most a +three-hour trip yet. I won't get home +any 'fore midnight if I don't get lost, +and maybe I'll get lost—I did once out +there. I've got to take a box o' 'Merican +Beauty roses to a place eight mile out, +an' the house ain't on the car track, but +nearly a mile off, the boss said. I wisht +they could wait till mornin', but the orders +was they just got to get the roses +to-night. You see, out there they don' +have no gas goin' nights when there's a +moon, an' there'd ought to be a moon +to-night, on'y the clouds is so thick there +ain't no light gets through.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> There's no sthar +shinin' to-night, Tim. [<i>She shakes her +head ominously. She goes to the window +for the second time, opens it as before, +and looks out. Shutting the window, +she comes back and speaks slowly +and sadly.</i>] Niver a sthar. An' the +shepherds will be havin' a hard time, +Tim, like you, findin' their way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> Shepherds? In town? +What shepherds?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> She means the shepherds +on Christmas Eve that wint to find +the Blessed Babe, Jesus.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> 'Tis Christmas +Eve, Timmie; ye haven't forgot that, have +ye?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> You bet I ain't. I know +pretty well when Christmas is comin', by +the way I got to hustle, an' the size of the +boxes I got to carry. Seems as if my +legs an' me would like to break up pardnership. +I got to work till midnight +every night, an' I'm so sleepy I drop off +in the cars whenever I get a seat. An' +the girls is at the store so early an' late +they don't get time to cook me nothin' +to eat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Be ye hungry, Timmie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy</span> [<i>diffidently and looking at the +floor</i>]. No, I ain't hungry now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Be ye shure, Timmie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> Oh, I kin go till I git home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Mother, can't you find +something for him to eat?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> To be shure, to be +shure. [<i>Bustling about.</i>] We always +kapes a full cupboard to thrate our +neighbors wid whin they comes in. +[<i>She goes to the empty safe and fusses +in it to find something. She pretends to +be very busy, and then glances around +at the boy with a sly look and a smile.</i>] +Ah, Timmie, lad, what would ye like to +be havin', now? If you had the wish o' +yer heart for yer Christmas dinner an' +a good fairy to set it all afore ye? +Ye'd be wishin' maybe, for a fine roast +duck, to begin wid, in its own gravies an' +some apple sauce to go wid it; an' ye'd +be thinkin' o' a little bit o' pig nicely +browned an' a plate of potaties; an' the +little fairy woman would be bringin' yer +puddin's an' nuts an' apples an' a dish o' +the swatest tay. [<i>The Boy smiles rather +ruefully.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> But, mother, you're not +gettin' Tim something to ate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> She's makin' me mouth +water all right. [<i>The Old Woman goes +back to her search, but again turns about +with a cunning look, and says to the +boy:</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Maybe ye'll meet +that little fairy woman out there in the +counthry road where ye're takin' the +roses! [<i>Nods her head knowingly, turning +to the safe again.</i>] Here's salt an' +here's pepper an' here's mustard an' a +crock full o' sugar, an', oh! Tim, here's +some fine cold bacon—fine, fat, cold +bacon—an' here's half a loaf o' white +wheat bread! Why, Timmie, lad, that's +just the food to make boys fat! Ye'll +grow famously on it. 'Tis a supper, +whin ye add to it a dhrop o' iligant milk, +that's fit for a king. [<i>She bustles about +with great show of being busy and having +much to prepare. Puts the plate of +cold bacon upon the table where stands +the stunted bit of an evergreen-tree, then +brings the half-loaf of bread and cuts it +into slices, laying pieces of bacon on the +slices of bread. Then she pours out a +glass of milk from a dilapidated and +broken pitcher in the safe and brings it +to the table, the Boy all the while watching +her hungrily. At last he says rather +apologetically to the woman.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> I ain't had nothin' since a +wienerwurst at eleven o'clock.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Now, dhraw up, +Timmie, boy, an' ate yer fill; ye're more +thin welcome. [<i>The boy does not sit +down, but stands by the table and eats +a slice of bread and bacon, drinking from +the glass of milk occasionally.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Don't they niver give +ye nothin' to ate at the gran' houses +when ye'd be takin' the roses?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> Not them. They'd as soon +think o' feedin' a telephone or an automobile +as me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> But don't they ask ye +in to get warm whin ye've maybe come +so far?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy.</span> No, they don't seem to look +at me 'zacly like a caller. They generally +steps out long enough to sign the +receipt-book an' shut the front door behin' +'em so as not to let the house get +col' the length o' time I'm standin' there. +Well, I'm awful much obleeged to ye. +Now, I got to be movin' on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Sthop an' cilibrate +the Christmas wid us. We ain't started +to do nothin' yet because the girls +haven't come—they know how [<i>nodding +her head</i>]—an' they're goin' to bring +things—all kinds o' good things to ate +an' a branch of rowan berries—ah, boy, +a great branch o' rowan wid scarlet berries +shinin' [<i>gesticulating and with gleaming +eyes</i>], an' we'll all be merry an' kape +it up late into the night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy</span> [<i>in a little fear of her</i>]. I +guess it's pretty late now. I got to make +that trip an' I guess when I get home +I'll be so sleepy I'll jus' tumble in. +Ye've been awful good to me, an' it's +the first time I been warm to-day. +Good-by. [<i>He starts toward the door, +but the Old Woman follows him and +speaks to him coaxingly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Ah, don't ye go, +Michael, lad! Now, bide wid us a bit. +[<i>The Boy, surprised at the name, looks +queerly at the Old Woman, who then +stretches out her arms to him, and says +beseechingly:</i>] Ah, boy, ah, Mike, bide +wid us, now ye've come! We've been +that lonesome widout ye!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy</span> [<i>frightened and shaking his +head</i>]. I've got to be movin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> No, Michael, little +lamb, no!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Boy</span> [<i>almost terrified, watching +her with staring eyes, and backing out</i>]. +I got to go! [<i>The Boy goes out, and +the Old Woman breaks into weeping, +totters over to her old rocking-chair and +drops into it, rocks to and fro, wailing +to herself.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Oh, to have him +come an' go again, my little Michael, my +own little lad!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Don't ye, dearie; now, +then, don't ye! 'Twas not Michael, but +just our little neighbor boy, Tim. Ye +know, poor lamb, now if ye'll thry to +remember, that father an' Michael is +gone to the betther land an' us is left.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Nay, nay, 'tis the +fairies that took thim an' have thim now, +kapin' thim an' will not ever give thim +back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Whisht, mother! Spake +not of the little folk on the Holy +Night! [<i>Crosses herself.</i>] Have ye forgot +the time o' all the year it is? Now, +dhry yer eyes, dearie, an' thry to be +cheerful like 'fore the girls be comin' +home. [<i>A noise is heard, the banging of +a door and footsteps.</i>] Thim be the girls +now, shure they be comin' at last. [<i>But +the sound of footsteps dies away.</i>] But +they'll be comin' soon. [<i>Wearily, but +with the inveterate hope.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The two women relapse into silence +again, which is undisturbed for a +few minutes. Then there is a +knock at the door, and together +in quavering, reedy voices, they +call, "Come in," as before. There +enters a tall, big, broad-shouldered +woman with a cold, discontented, +hard look upon the face that might +have been handsome some years +back; still, in her eyes, as she +looks at the pallid woman on the +bed, there is something that denotes +a softness underneath it all.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Good avnin' to ye! +We're that pleased to see our neighbors!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor</span> [<i>without paying any attention +to the Old Woman, but entirely +addressing the woman on the bed.</i>] +How's yer cough?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Oh, it's jist the same—maybe +a little betther. If I could on'y +get to the counthry! But the girls must +be workin'—they haven't time to take +me. Sit down, won't ye? [<i>The Neighbor +goes to the bed and sits down on +the foot of it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> I'm most dead, I'm +so tired. I did two washin's to-day—went +out and did one this mornin' and +then my own after I come home this +afternoon. I jus' got through sprinklin' +it an' I'll iron to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Not on Christmas Day!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor</span> [<i>with a sneer</i>]. Christmas +Day! Did ye hear 'bout the Beckers? +Well, they was all put out on the +sidewalk this afternoon. Becker's been +sick, ye know, an' ain't paid his rent an' +his wife's got a two weeks' old baby. +It sort o' stunned Mis' Becker, an' she +sat on one of the mattresses out there +an' wouldn't move, an' nobody couldn't +do nothin' with her. But they ain't the +only ones has bad luck—Smith, the +painter, fell off a ladder an' got killed. +They took him to the hospital, but it +wasn't no use—his head was all mashed +in. His wife's got them five boys an' +Smith never saved a cent, though he +warn't a drinkin' man. It's a good thing +Smith's children is boys—they can make +their livin' easier!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman</span> [<i>smiling faintly</i>]. Ain't +ye got no cheerful news to tell? It's +Christmas Eve, ye know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> Christmas Eve don't +seem to prevent people from dyin' an' +bein' turned out o' house an' home. Did +ye hear how bad the dipthery is? They +say as how if it gits much worse they'll +have to close the school in our ward. +Two o' the Homan children's dead with +it. The first one wasn't sick but two +days, an' they say his face all turned +black 'fore he died. But it's a good +thing they're gone, for the Homans +ain't got enough to feed the other six. +Did ye hear 'bout Jim Kelly drinkin' +again? Swore off for two months, an' +then took to it harder'n ever—perty +near killed the baby one night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman</span> [<i>with a wan, beseeching +smile</i>]. Won't you please not tell me +any more? It just breaks me heart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor</span> [<i>grimly</i>]. I ain't got +no other kind o' news to tell. I s'pose I +might's well go home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> No, don't ye go. I +like to have ye here when ye're kinder.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor</span> [<i>fingering the bed +clothes and smoothing them over the +woman</i>]. Well, it's gettin' late, an' I +guess ye ought to go to sleep.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> Oh, no, I won't go to +slape till the girls come. They'll bring +me somethin' to give me strength. If +they'd on'y come soon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> Ye ain't goin' to set +up 'til they git home?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> That we are. +We're kapin' the cilebratin' till they +come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> What celebratin'?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Why, the Christmas, +to be shure. We're goin' to have +high jinks to-night. In the ould counthry +'tis always Christmas Day, but here +'tis begun on Christmas Eve, an' we're +on'y waitin' for the girls, because they +know how to fix things betther nor Mary +an' me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor</span> [<i>staring</i>]. But ain't +they workin' in the store?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Yes, but they're +comin' home early to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor</span> [<i>laughing ironically</i>]. +Don't ye fool yerselves. Why, they've +got to work harder to-night than any in +the whole year.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman</span> [<i>wistfully</i>]. But they +did say they'd thry to come home early.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> The store's all +crowded to-night. Folks 'at's got money +to spend never remembers it till the last +minute. If they didn't have none they'd +be thinkin' 'bout it long ahead. Well, +I got to be movin'. I wouldn't stay +awake, if I was you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Sthay and kape the +Christmas wid us! We'll be havin' high +jinks by an' by. Sthay, now, an' help +us wid our jollity!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Neighbor.</span> Nay, I left my children +in bed, an' I got to go back to 'em. +An' I got to get some rest myself—I +got that ironin' ahead o' me in the mornin'. +You folks better get yer own rest. +[<i>She rises and walks to the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman</span> [<i>beamingly</i>]. David +an' Michael's comin'. [<i>The Neighbor +stands with her back against the door +and her hand on the knob, staring at the +Old Woman.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman</span> [<i>smiling rapturously</i>]. +Yis, we're goin' to have a gran' +time. [<i>The Neighbor looks puzzled and +fearful and troubled, first at the Woman +and then at the Old Woman. Finally, +without a word, she opens the door and +goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman</span> [<i>going about in a +tottering sort of dance</i>]. David an' +Michael's comin' an' the shepherds for +the fairies will show thim the way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> If the girls would on'y +come! If they'd give me somethin' so +as I wouldn't be so tired!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> There's niver a +sthar an' there's nobody to give thim a +kind word an' the counthry roads are +dark an' foul, but they've got the little +folk to guide thim! An' whin they +reach the city—the poor, lonesome shepherds +from the hills!—they'll find +naught but coldness an' hardness an' +hurry. [<i>Questioningly.</i>] Will the fairies +show thim the way? Fairies' eyes +be used to darkness, but can they see +where it is black night in one corner an' +a blaze o' light in another? [<i>She goes +to the window for the third time, opens it +and leans far out for a long time, then +turns about and goes on in her monotone, +closing the window.—She seems by +this time quite to have forgotten the +presence of the pallid woman on the bed, +who has closed her eyes, and lies like +one dead.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Woman.</span> Nay, there's niver +a sthar, an' the clouds are hangin' heavier +an' lower an' the flakes o' snow are +fallin'. Poor little folk guidin' thim poor +lost shepherds, leadin' thim by the hand +so gently because there's no others to be +kind to thim, an' bringin' thim to the +manger o' the Blessed Babe. [<i>She comes +over to her rocking-chair and again sits +down in it, rocks slowly to and fro, +nodding her head in time to the motion.</i>] +Poor little mite of a babe, so cold an' +unwelcome an' forgotten save by the silly +ould shepherds from the hills! The silly +ould shepherds from the strength o' the +hills, who are comin' through the darkness +in the lead o' the little folk! [<i>She +speaks slower and lower, and finally +drops into a quiet crooning—it stops +and the Old Woman has fallen asleep.</i>]</p> + +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>While the curtain is down the pallid, +sick woman upon the bed dies, the +Old Woman being asleep does not +notice the slight struggle with +death. The fire has gone out in +the stove, and the light in the +lamp, and the stage is in complete +darkness when the two girls come +stumbling in. They are too tired +to speak, too weary to show surprise +that the occupants of the +room are not awake. They fumble +about, trying to find matches +in the darkness, and finally discover +them and a candle in the +safe. They light the candle and +place it upon the table by the +scraggy little evergreen-tree. +They turn about and discern their +grandmother asleep in the rocking-chair. +Hurriedly they turn to +the bed and discover their mother +lying there dead. For a full minute +they stand gazing at her, the +surprise, wonder, awe, misery increasing +in their faces; then with +screams they run to the bed, throw +themselves on their knees and bury +their faces, sobbing, in the bedclothes +at the Woman's feet.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="ILE" id="ILE"></a>ILE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Eugene G. O'Neill</span></h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<p class="center">All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ben</span> [<i>the cabin boy</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Steward</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Captain Keeney</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Slocum</span> [<i>second mate</i>].<br /> +<span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>a harpooner</i>].<br /> +<i>Members of the crew of the Atlantic Queen.</i><br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ile</span> was first produced by the Provincetown Players, New York City, on the night +of November 30th, 1917, with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ben</span> [<i>the cabin boy</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Harold Conley</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Steward</span></td><td align='left'><i>Robert Edwards</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Captain Keeney</span></td><td align='left'><i>H. Collins</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mr. Slocum</span> [<i>second mate</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Ira Remsen</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span></td><td align='left'><i>Clara Savage</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>the harpooner</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Lewis B. Ell</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">Produced under the direction of <span class="smcap">Miss Nina Moise</span>. Scenery by <span class="smcap">Mr. Lewis B. Ell</span>.</p> + + + + + + + +<p> </p> + +<p>Reprinted from "The Moon of the Caribbees and Six Other Plays of the Sea" by +special permission of Eugene O'Neill. The professional and amateur stage rights on +this play are strictly reserved by the author. Applications for permission to produce +the play should be made to Mr. Eugene G. O'Neill, Provincetown, Mass.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h2>ILE</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Eugene G. O'Neill</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>Captain Keeney's cabin on +board the steam whaling ship Atlantic +Queen—a small, square compartment +about eight feet high with a skylight in +the center looking out on the poop deck. +On the left (the stern of the ship) a long +bench with rough cushions is built in +against the wall. In front of the bench +a table. Over the bench, several curtained +port-holes.</i></p> + +<p><i>In the rear left, a door leading to the +captain's sleeping quarters. To the right +of the door a small organ, looking as if +it were brand new, is placed against the +wall.</i></p> + +<p><i>On the right, to the rear, a marble-topped +sideboard. On the sideboard, a +woman's sewing basket. Farther forward, +a doorway leading to the companion-way, +and past the officers' quarters to +the main deck.</i></p> + +<p><i>In the center of the room, a stove. +From the middle of the ceiling a hanging +lamp is suspended. The walls of the +cabin are painted white.</i></p> + +<p><i>There is no rolling of the ship, and the +light which comes through the sky-light +is sickly and faint, indicating one of those +gray days of calm when ocean and sky +are alike dead. The silence is unbroken +except for the measured tread of some +one walking up and down on the poop +deck overhead.</i></p> + +<p><i>It is nearing two bells—one o'clock—in +the afternoon of a day in the year +1895.</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><i>At the rise of the curtain there is a +moment of intense silence. Then The +Steward enters and commences to clear +the table of the few dishes which still remain +on it after the Captain's dinner. +He is an old, grizzled man dressed in +dungaree pants, a sweater, and a woolen +cap with ear flaps. His manner is sullen +and angry. He stops stacking up the +plates and casts a quick glance upward +at the skylight; then tiptoes over to the +closed door in rear and listens with his +ear pressed to the crack. What he hears +makes his face darken and he mutters a +furious curse. There is a noise from the +doorway on the right and he darts back +to the table.</i></p> + +<p><i>Ben enters. He is an over-grown +gawky boy with a long, pinched face. +He is dressed in sweater, fur cap, etc. +His teeth are chattering with the cold +and he hurries to the stove where he +stands for a moment shivering, blowing on +his hands, slapping them against his sides, +on the verge of crying.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward</span> [<i>in relieved tones—seeing +who it is</i>]. Oh, 'tis you, is it? What're +ye shiverin' 'bout? Stay by the stove +where ye belong and ye'll find no need +of chatterin'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben.</span> It's c-c-cold. [<i>Trying to control +his chattering teeth—derisively.</i>] +Who d'ye think it were—the Old Man?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward</span> [<i>makes a threatening +move—Ben shrinks away</i>]. None o' +your lip, young un, or I'll learn ye. +[<i>More kindly.</i>] Where was it ye've been +all o' the time—the fo'c's'tle?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward.</span> Let the Old Man see ye +up for'ard monkeyshinin' with the hands +and ye'll get a hidin' ye'll not forget in +a hurry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben.</span> Aw, he don't see nothin'. [<i>A +trace of awe in his tones—he glances +upward.</i>] He jest walks up and down +like he didn't notice nobody—and stares +at the ice to the no'the'ard.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward</span> [<i>the same tone of awe +creeping into his voice</i>]. He's always +starin' at the ice. [<i>In a sudden rage, +shaking his fist at the skylight.</i>] Ice, ice, +ice! Damn him and damn the ice! +Holdin' us in for nigh on a year—nothin' +to see but ice—stuck in it like a +fly in molasses!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben</span> [<i>apprehensively</i>]. Ssshh! He'll +hear ye.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward</span> [<i>raging</i>]. Aye, damn, +and damn the Arctic seas, and damn this +rotten whalin' ship of his, and damn me +for a fool to ever ship on it! [<i>Subsiding +as if realizing the uselessness of this outburst—shaking +his head—slowly, with +deep conviction.</i>] He's a hard man—as +hard a man as ever sailed the seas.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben</span> [<i>solemnly</i>]. Aye.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward.</span> The two years we all +signed up for are done this day! Two +years o' this dog's life, and no luck in +the fishin', and the hands half starved +with the food runnin' low, rotten as it is; +and not a sign of him turnin' back for +home! [<i>Bitterly.</i>] Home! I begin to +doubt if ever I'll set foot on land again. +[<i>Excitedly.</i>] What is it he thinks he's +goin' to do? Keep us all up here after +our time is worked out till the last man +of us is starved to death or frozen? +We've grub enough hardly to last out the +voyage back if we started now. What +are the men goin' to do 'bout it? Did +ye hear any talk in the fo'c's'tle?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben</span> [<i>going over to him—in a half +whisper</i>]. They said if he don't put back +south for home to-day they're goin' to +mutiny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward</span> [<i>with grim satisfaction</i>]. +Mutiny? Aye, 'tis the only thing they +can do; and serve him right after the +manner he's treated them—'s if they +weren't no better nor dogs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben.</span> The ice is all broke up to +s'uth'ard. They's clear water s'far 's you +can see. He ain't got no excuse for not +turnin' back for home, the men says.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. He won't +look nowheres but no'the'ard where +they's only the ice to see. He don't want +to see no clear water. All he thinks on +is gettin' the ile—'s if it was our fault +he ain't had good luck with the whales. +[<i>Shaking his head.</i>] I think the man's +mighty nigh losin' his senses.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben</span> [<i>awed</i>]. D'you really think he's +crazy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward.</span> Aye, it's the punishment +o' God on him. Did ye ever hear +of a man who wasn't crazy do the things +he does? [<i>Pointing to the door in rear.</i>] +Who but a man that's mad would take +his woman—and as sweet a woman as +ever was—on a rotten whalin' ship to +the Arctic seas to be locked in by the ice +for nigh on a year, and maybe lose her +senses forever—for it's sure she'll never +be the same again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben</span> [<i>sadly</i>]. She useter be awful nice +to me before—[<i>His eyes grow wide and +frightened.</i>] she got—like she is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward.</span> Aye, she was good to +all of us. 'Twould have been hell on +board without her; for he's a hard man—a +hard, hard man—a driver if there ever +was one. [<i>With a grim laugh.</i>] I hope +he's satisfied now—drivin' her on till +she's near lost her mind. And who could +blame her? 'Tis a God's wonder we're +not a ship full of crazed people—with +the ice all the time, and the quiet so thick +you're afraid to hear your own voice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben</span> [<i>with a frightened glance toward +the door on right</i>]. She don't never speak +to me no more—jest looks at me 's if +she didn't know me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward.</span> She don't know no one—but +him. She talks to him—when +she does talk—right enough.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben.</span> She does nothin' all day long +now but sit and sew—and then she cries +to herself without makin' no noise. I've +seen her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward.</span> Aye, I could hear her +through the door a while back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ben</span> [<i>tiptoes over to the door and listens</i>]. +She's cryin' now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward</span> [<i>furiously—shaking his +fist</i>]. God send his soul to hell for the +devil he is!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is the noise of some one coming +slowly down the companion-way +stairs. The Steward hurries +to his stacked-up dishes. He is so +nervous from fright that he knocks +off the top one which falls and +breaks on the floor. He stands +aghast, trembling with dread. Ben +is violently rubbing off the organ +with a piece of cloth which he has +snatched from his pocket. Captain +Keeney appears in the doorway +on right and comes into the +cabin, removing his fur cap as he +does so. He is a man of about +forty, around five-ten in height but +looking much shorter on account +of the enormous proportions of his +shoulders and chest. His face is +massive and deeply lined, with +gray-blue eyes of a bleak hardness, +and a tightly-clenched, thin-lipped +mouth. His thick hair is long and +gray. He is dressed in a heavy +blue jacket and blue pants stuffed +into his sea-boots. He is followed +into the cabin by the Second Mate, +a rangy six-footer with a lean +weather-beaten face. The Mate is +dressed about the same as the captain. +He is a man of thirty or so.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>comes toward The Steward +with a stern look on his face. The Steward +is visibly frightened and the stack of +dishes rattles in his trembling hands. +Keeney draws back his fist and The Steward +shrinks away. The fist is gradually +lowered and Keeney speaks slowly</i>]. +'Twould be like hitting a worm. It is +nigh on two bells, Mr. Steward, and this +truck not cleared yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward</span> [<i>stammering</i>]. Y-y-yes, +sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> Instead of doin' your rightful +work ye've been below here gossipin' +old women's talk with that boy. [<i>To +Ben, fiercely.</i>] Get out o' this you! +Clean up the chart room. [<i>Ben darts +past the Mate to the open doorway.</i>] +Pick up that dish, Mr. Steward!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward</span> [<i>doing so with difficulty</i>]. +Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> The next dish you break, Mr. +Steward, you take a bath in the Behring +Sea at the end of a rope.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Steward</span> [<i>trembling</i>]. Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He hurries out. The Second Mate +walks slowly over to the Captain.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> I warn't 'specially anxious the +man at the wheel should catch what I +wanted to say to you, sir. That's why +I asked you to come below.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>impatiently</i>]. Speak your +say, Mr. Slocum.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate</span> [<i>unconsciously lowering his +voice</i>]. I'm afeared there'll be trouble +with the hands by the look o' things. +They'll likely turn ugly, every blessed +one o' them, if you don't put back. The +two years they signed up for is up to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> And d'you think you're tellin' +me something new, Mr. Slocum? I've +felt it in the air this long time past. +D'you think I've not seen their ugly looks +and the grudgin' way they worked?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The door in rear is opened and Mrs. +Keeney stands in the doorway. +She is a slight, sweet-faced little +woman, primly dressed in black. +Her eyes are red from weeping +and her face drawn and pale. She +takes in the cabin with a frightened +glance and stands as if fixed to the +spot by some nameless dread, +clasping and unclasping her hands +nervously. The two men turn and +look at her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>with rough tenderness</i>]. Well, +Annie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>as if awakening from a +dream</i>]. David, I—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She is silent. The Mate starts for +the doorway.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>turning to him—sharply</i>]. +Wait!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> D'you want anything, Annie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>after a pause during +which she seems to be endeavoring to +collect her thoughts</i>]. I thought maybe—I'd +go up on deck, David, to get a +breath of fresh air.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stands humbly awaiting his permission. +He and The Mate exchange +a significant glance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> It's too cold, Annie. You'd +best stay below. There's nothing to look +at on deck—but ice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>monotonously</i>]. I know—ice, +ice, ice! But there's nothing to see +down here but these walls.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She makes a gesture of loathing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> You can play the organ, Annie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>dully</i>]. I hate the +organ. It puts me in mind of home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>a touch of resentment in his +voice</i>]. I got it jest for you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>dully</i>]. I know. [<i>She +turns away from them and walks slowly +to the bench on left. She lifts up one of +the curtains and looks through a <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'port-hale'">porthole</ins>; +then utters an exclamation of joy.</i>] +Ah, water! Clear water! As far as I +can see! How good it looks after all +these months of ice! [<i>She turns round to +them, her face transfigured with joy.</i>] +Ah, now I must go up on deck and look +at it, David!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>frowning</i>]. Best not to-day, +Annie. Best wait for a day when the +sun shines.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>desperately</i>]. But the +sun never shines in this terrible place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>a tone of command in his +voice</i>]. Best not to-day, Annie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>crumbling before this +command—abjectly</i>]. Very well, David.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stands there, staring straight +before her as if in a daze.—The +two men look at her uneasily.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>sharply</i>]. Annie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>dully</i>]. Yes, David.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> Me and Mr. Slocum has business +to talk about—ship's business.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney.</span> Very well, David.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes slowly out, rear, and +leaves the door three-quarters shut +behind her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> Best not have her on deck if +they's goin' to be any trouble.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> And trouble they's going to +be. I feel it in my bones. [<i>Takes a revolver +from the pocket of his coat and +examines it.</i>] Got your'n?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> Not that we'll have to use +'em—not if I know their breed of dog—jest +to frighten 'em up a bit. [<i>Grimly.</i>] +I ain't never been forced to use one yit; +and trouble I've had by land and by +sea s'long as I kin remember, and will +have till my dyin' day, I reckon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate</span> [<i>hesitatingly</i>]. Then you ain't +goin'—to turn back?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> Turn back! Mr. Slocum, +did you ever hear o' me pointin' s'uth for +home with only a measly four hundred +barrel of ile in the hold?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate</span> [<i>hastily</i>]. But the grub's gittin' +low.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> They's enough to last a long +time yit, if they're careful with it; and +they's plenty of water.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> They say it's not fit to eat—what's +left; and the two years they signed +on fur is up to-day. They might make +trouble for you in the courts when we git +home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> Let them make what law +trouble they kin! I don't give a damn +'bout the money. I've got to git the ile! +[<i>Glancing sharply at the Mate.</i>] You +ain't turnin' no sea lawyer, be you, Mr. +Slocum?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate</span> [<i>flushing</i>]. Not by a hell of a +sight, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> What do the fools want to +go home fur now? Their share o' the +four hundred barrel wouldn't keep them +in chewin' terbacco.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate</span> [<i>slowly</i>]. They wants to git back +to their old folks an' things, I s'pose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>looking at him searchingly</i>]. +'N you want to turn back too. [<i>The +Mate looks down confusedly before his +sharp gaze.</i>] Don't lie, Mr. Slocum. +It's writ down plain in your eyes. [<i>With +grim sarcasm.</i>] I hope, Mr. Slocum, you +ain't agoin' to jine the men agin me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate</span> [<i>indignantly</i>]. That ain't fair, +sir, to say sich things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>with satisfaction</i>]. I warn't +much afeard o' that, Tom. You been with +me nigh on ten year and I've learned ye +whalin'. No man kin say I ain't a good +master, if I be a hard one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> I warn't thinkin' of myself, sir—'bout +turnin' home, I mean. [<i>Desperately.</i>] +But Mrs. Keeney, sir—seems +like she ain't jest satisfied up here, ailin' +like—what with the cold an' bad luck +an' the ice an' all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>his face clouding—rebukingly, +but not severely</i>]. That's my business, +Mr. Slocum. I'll thank you to steer +a clear course o' that. [<i>A pause.</i>] The +ice'll break up soon to no'the'ard. I +could see it startin' to-day. And when +it goes and we git some sun Annie'll pick +up. [<i>Another pause—then he bursts +forth.</i>] It ain't the damned money +what's keepin' me up in the Northern +seas, Tom. But I can't go back to Homeport +with a measly four hundred barrel +of ile. I'd die fust. I ain't never come +back home in all my days without a full +ship. Ain't that true?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Yes, sir; but this voyage you +been ice-bound, an'—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>scornfully</i>]. And d'you +s'pose any of 'em would believe that—any +o' them skippers I've beaten voyage +after voyage? Can't you hear 'em +laughin' and sneerin'—Tibbots n' Harris +n' Simms and the rest—and all o' Homeport +makin' fun o' me? "Dave Keeney, +what boasts he's the best whalin' skipper +out o' Homeport, comin' back with a +measly four hundred barrel of ile!" +[<i>The thought of this drives him into a +frenzy and he smashes his fist down on +the marble top of the sideboard.</i>] I got +to git the ile, I tell you! How could I +figger on this ice? It's never been so +bad before in the thirty year I been +acomin' here. And now it's breakin' up. +In a couple o' days it'll be all gone. And +they's whale here, plenty of 'em. I know +they is and I ain't never gone wrong yit. +I got to git the ile! I got to git it in +spite of all hell, and by God, I ain't agoin' +home till I do git it!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is the sound of subdued sobbing +from the door in rear. The +two men stand silent for a moment, +listening. Then Keeney goes over +to the door and looks in. He hesitates +for a moment as if he were +going to enter—then closes the +door softly. Joe, the harpooner, an +enormous six-footer with a battered, +ugly face, enters from right +and stands waiting for the Captain +to notice him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>turning and seeing him</i>]. +Don't be standin' there like a hawk, Harpooner. +Speak up!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>confusedly</i>]. We want—the +men, sir—they wants to send a depitation +aft to have a word with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>furiously</i>]. Tell 'em to go to—[<i>Checks +himself and continues grimly.</i>] +Tell 'em to come. I'll see 'em.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> Aye, aye, sir.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>with a grim smile</i>]. Here it +comes, the trouble you spoke of, Mr. +Slocum, and we'll make short shift of it. +It's better to crush such things at the +start than let them make headway.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate</span> [<i>worriedly</i>]. Shall I wake up +the First and Fourth, sir? We might +need their help.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> No, let them sleep. I'm well +able to handle this alone, Mr. Slocum.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is the shuffling of footsteps +from outside and five of the crew +crowd into the cabin, led by Joe. +All are dressed alike—sweaters, +sea boots, etc. They glance uneasily +at the Captain, twirling their +fur caps in their hands.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. Well? Who's +to speak fur ye?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>stepping forward with an air of +bravado</i>]. I be.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>eyeing him up and down +coldly</i>]. So you be. Then speak your +say and be quick about it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>trying not to wilt before the Captain's +glance and avoiding his eyes</i>]. The +time we signed up for is done to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>icily</i>]. You're tellin' me +nothin' I don't know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> You ain't p'intin' fur home yit, +far s'we kin see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> No, and I ain't agoin' to till +this ship is full of ile.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> You can't go no further no'the +with the ice before ye.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> The ice is breaking up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>after a slight pause, during which +the others mumble angrily to one another</i>]. +The grub we're gittin' now is +rotten.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> It's good enough fur ye. +Better men than ye are have eaten worse.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a chorus of angry exclamations +from the crowd.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>encouraged by this support</i>]. We +ain't agoin' to work no more less you +puts back for home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>fiercely</i>]. You ain't, ain't +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> No; and the law courts'll say we +was right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> To hell with your law courts! +We're at sea now and I'm the law on +this ship! [<i>Edging up toward the harpooner.</i>] +And every mother's son of you +what don't obey orders goes in irons.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There are more angry exclamations +from the crew. Mrs. Keeney appears +in the doorway in rear and +looks on with startled eyes. None +of the men notice her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe</span> [<i>with bravado</i>]. Then we're agoin' +to mutiny and take the old hooker home +ourselves. Ain't we, boys?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As he turns his head to look at the +others, Keeney's fist shoots out to +the side of his jaw. Joe goes down +in a heap and lies there. Mrs. +Keeney gives a shriek and hides her +face in her hands. The men pull +out their sheath knives and start +a rush, but stop when they find +themselves confronted by the revolvers +of Keeney and the Mate.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>his eyes and voice snapping</i>]. +Hold still! [<i>The men stand huddled together +in a sullen silence. Keeney's voice +is full of mockery.</i>] You's found out it +ain't safe to mutiny on this ship, ain't +you? And now git for'ard where ye belong, +and—[<i>He gives Joe's body a contemptuous +kick.</i>] drag him with you. +And remember, the first man of ye I see +shirkin' I'll shoot dead as sure as there's +a sea under us, and you can tell the rest +the same. Git for'ard now! Quick! +[<i>The men leave in cowed silence, carrying +Joe with them. Keeney turns to the +Mate with a short laugh and puts his revolver +back in his pocket.</i>] Best get up +on deck, Mr. Slocum, and see to it they +don't try none of their skulkin' tricks. +We'll have to keep an eye peeled from +now on. I know 'em.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes out, right. Keeney hears +his wife's hysterical weeping and +turns around in surprise—then +walks slowly to her side.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>putting an arm around her +shoulder—with gruff tenderness</i>]. +There, there, Annie. Don't be feared. +It's all past and gone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>shrinking away from +him</i>]. Oh, I can't bear it! I can't bear +it any longer!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>gently</i>]. Can't bear what, +Annie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>hysterically</i>]. All this +horrible brutality, and these brutes of +men, and this terrible ship, and this +prison cell of a room, and the ice all +around, and the silence.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>After this outburst she calms down +and wipes her eyes with her handkerchief.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>after a pause during which +he looks down at her with a puzzled +frown</i>]. Remember, I warn't hankerin' +to have you come on this voyage, Annie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span>. I wanted to be with +you, David, don't you see? I didn't want +to wait back there in the house all alone +as I've been doing these last six years +since we were married—waiting, and +watching, and fearing—with nothing to +keep my mind occupied—not able to go +back teaching school on account of being +Dave Keeney's wife. I used to dream of +sailing on the great, wide, glorious ocean. +I wanted to be by your side in the danger +and vigorous life of it all. I wanted to +see you the hero they make you out to be +in Homeport. And instead [<i>Her voice +grows tremulous</i>] all I find is ice and +cold—and brutality! [<i>Her voice +breaks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span>. I warned you what it'd be, +Annie. "Whalin' ain't no ladies' tea +party," I says to you, "and you better +stay to home where you've got all your +woman's comforts." [<i>Shaking his head.</i>] +But you was so set on it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>wearily</i>]. Oh, I know +it isn't your fault, David. You see, I +didn't believe you. I guess I was dreaming +about the old Vikings in the story +books and I thought you were one of +them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>protestingly</i>]. I done my +best to make it as cozy and comfortable +as could be. [<i>Mrs. Keeney looks around +her in wild scorn.</i>] I even sent to the +city for that organ for ye, thinkin' it +might be soothin' to ye to be playin' it +times when they was calms and things was +dull like.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>wearily</i>]. Yes, you were +very kind, David. I know that. [<i>She +goes to left and lifts the curtains from +the porthole and looks out—then suddenly +bursts forth</i>]: I won't stand it—I +can't stand it—pent up by these walls +like a prisoner. [<i>She runs over to him +and throws her arms around him, weeping. +He puts his arm protectingly over +her shoulders.</i>] Take me away from +here, David! If I don't get away from +here, out of this terrible ship, I'll go +mad! Take me home, David! I can't +think any more. I feel as if the cold and +the silence were crushing down on my +brain. I'm afraid. Take me home!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>holds her at arm's length and +looks at her face anxiously</i>]. Best go to +bed, Annie. You ain't yourself. You +got fever. Your eyes look so strange +like. I ain't never seen you look this +way before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>laughing hysterically</i>]. +It's the ice and the cold and the silence—they'd +make any one look strange.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>soothingly</i>]. In a month or +two, with good luck, three at the most, +I'll have her filled with ile and then we'll +give her everything she'll stand and p'int +for home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney.</span> But we can't wait for +that—I can't wait. I want to get home. +And the men won't wait. They want to +get home. It's cruel, it's brutal for you +to keep them. You must sail back. +You've got no excuse. There's clear +water to the south now. If you've a +heart at all you've got to turn back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>harshly</i>]. I can't, Annie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney.</span> Why can't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> A woman couldn't rightly +understand my reason.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>wildly</i>]. Because it's a +stubborn reason. Oh, I heard you talking +with the second mate. You're afraid +the other captains will sneer at you because +you didn't come back with a full +ship. You want to live up to your silly +reputation even if you do have to beat +and starve men and drive me mad to +do it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>his jaw set stubbornly</i>]. It +ain't that, Annie. Them skippers would +never dare sneer to my face. It ain't +so much what any one'd say—but—[<i>He +hesitates, struggling to express his +meaning</i>] you see—I've always done it—since +my first voyage as skipper. I +always come back—with a full ship—and—it +don't seem right not to—somehow. +I been always first whalin' skipper +out o' Homeport, and—don't you +see my meanin', Annie? [<i>He glances at +her. She is not looking at him, but staring +dully in front of her, not hearing a +word he is saying.</i>] Annie! [<i>She comes +to herself with a start.</i>] Best turn in, +Annie, there's a good woman. You ain't +well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>resisting his attempts to +guide her to the door in rear</i>]. David! +Won't you please turn back?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>gently</i>]. I can't, Annie—not +yet awhile. You don't see my meanin'. +I got to git the ile.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney.</span> It'd be different if you +needed the money, but you don't. You've +got more than plenty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>impatiently</i>]. It ain't the +money I'm thinkin' of. D'you think I'm +as mean as that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>dully</i>]. No—I don't +know—I can't understand. [<i>Intensely.</i>] +Oh, I want to be home in the old house +once more, and see my own kitchen again, +and hear a woman's voice talking to me +and be able to talk to her. Two years! +It seems so long ago—as if I'd been +dead and could never go back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>worried by her strange tone +and the far-away look in her eyes</i>.] Best +go to bed, Annie. You ain't well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>not appearing to hear +him</i>]. I used to be lonely when you were +away. I used to think Homeport was a +stupid, monotonous place. Then I used +to go down on the beach, especially when +it was windy and the breakers were rolling +in, and I'd dream of the fine, free +life you must be leading. [<i>She gives a +laugh which is half a sob.</i>] I used to love +the sea then. [<i>She pauses; then continues +with slow intensity.</i>] But now—I don't +ever want to see the sea again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>thinking to humor her</i>]. 'Tis +no fit place for a woman, that's sure. I +was a fool to bring ye.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>after a pause—passing +her hand over her eyes with a gesture of +pathetic weariness</i>]. How long would it +take us to reach home—if we started +now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>frowning</i>]. 'Bout two months, +I reckon, Annie, with fair luck.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>counts on her fingers—then +murmurs with a rapt smile</i>]. That +would be August, the latter part of August, +wouldn't it? It was on the twenty-fifth +of August we were married, David, +wasn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>trying to conceal the fact that +her memories have moved him—gruffly</i>]. +Don't you remember?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>vaguely—again passes +her hand over her eyes</i>]. My memory is +leaving me—up here in the ice. It was +so long ago. [<i>A pause—then she smiles +dreamily.</i>] It's June now. The lilacs +will be all in bloom in the front yard—and +the climbing roses on the trellis to +the side of the house—they're budding—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She suddenly covers her face with +her hands and commences to sob.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>disturbed</i>]. Go in and rest, +Annie. You're all worn out cryin' over +what can't be helped.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>suddenly throwing her +arms around his neck and clinging to +him</i>]. You love me, don't you, David?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>in amazed embarrassment at +this outburst</i>]. Love you? Why d'you +ask me such a question, Annie?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>shaking him <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'fierecly'">fiercely</ins></i>]. +But you do, don't you, David? Tell me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> I'm your husband, Annie, +and you're my wife. Could there be +aught but love between us after all these +years?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>shaking him again—still +more fiercely</i>]. Then you do love me. +Say it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>simply</i>]. I do, Annie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>gives a sigh of relief—her +hands drop to her sides. Keeney regards +her anxiously. She passes her hand +across her eyes and murmurs half to herself</i>]: +I sometimes think if we could only +have had a child—[<i>Keeney turns away +from her, deeply moved. She grabs his +arm and turns him around to face her—intensely.</i>] +And I've always been a good +wife to you, haven't I, David?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>his voice betraying his emotion</i>]. +No man has ever had a better, +Annie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney.</span> And I've never asked +for much from you, have I, David? Have +I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> You know you could have all +I got the power to give ye, Annie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>wildly</i>]. Then do this, +this once, for my sake, for God's sake—take +me home! It's killing me, this life—the +brutality and cold and horror of it. +I'm going mad. I can feel the threat in +the air. I can't bear the silence threatening +me—day after gray day and every +day the same. I can't bear it. [<i>Sobbing.</i>] +I'll go mad, I know I will. Take +me home, David, if you love me as you +say. I'm afraid. For the love of God, +take me home!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She throws her arms around him, +weeping against his shoulder. His +face betrays the tremendous struggle +going on within him. He holds +her out at arm's length, his expression +softening. For a moment +his shoulders sag, he becomes old, +his iron spirit weakens as he looks +at her tear-stained face.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>dragging out the words with +an effort</i>]. I'll do it, Annie—for +your sake—if you say it's needful for +ye.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>with wild joy—kissing +him</i>]. God bless you for that, David!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He turns away from her silently +and walks toward the companion-way. +Just at that moment there +is a clatter of footsteps on the +stairs and the Second Mate enters +the cabin.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate</span> [<i>excitedly</i>]. The ice is breakin' +up to no'the'ard, sir. There's a clear passage +through the floe, and clear water +beyond, the lookout says.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Keeney straightens himself like a +man coming out of a trance. Mrs. +Keeney looks at the Mate with +terrified eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>dazedly—trying to collect +his thoughts</i>]. A clear passage? To no'the'ard?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>his voice suddenly grim with +determination</i>]. Then get her ready and +we'll drive her through.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Aye, aye, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>appealingly</i>]. David! +David!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>not heeding her</i>]. Will the +men turn to willin' or must we drag 'em +out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> They'll turn to willin' enough. +You put the fear o' God into 'em, sir. +They're meek as lambs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> Then drive 'em—both +watches. [<i>With grim determination.</i>] +They's whale t'other side o' this floe and +we're agoin' to git 'em.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Aye, aye, sir.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes out hurriedly. A moment +later there is the sound of scuffling +feet from the deck outside and the +Mate's voice shouting orders.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>speaking aloud to himself—derisively</i>]. +And I was agoin' home like +a yaller dog!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>imploringly</i>]. David!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>sternly</i>]. Woman, you ain't +adoin' right when you meddle in men's +business and weaken 'em. You can't +know my feelin's. I got to prove a man +to be a good husband for ye to take pride +in. I got to git the ile, I tell ye.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Keeney</span> [<i>supplicatingly</i>]. David! +Aren't you going home?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>ignoring this question—commandingly</i>]. +You ain't well. Go and lay +down a mite. [<i>He starts for the door.</i>] +I got to git on deck.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes out. She cries after him +in anguish, "David!" A pause. +She passes her hand across her eyes—then +commences to laugh hysterically +and goes to the organ. +She sits down and starts to play +wildly an old hymn, "There is rest +for the weary." Keeney reënters +from the doorway to the deck and +stands looking at her angrily. He +comes over and grabs her roughly +by the shoulder.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney.</span> Woman, what foolish mockin' +is this? [<i>She laughs wildly and he +starts back from her in alarm.</i>] Annie! +What is it? [<i>She doesn't answer him. +Keeney's voice trembles.</i>] Don't you +know me, Annie?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He puts both hands on her shoulders +and turns her around so that he can +look into her eyes. She stares up +at him with a stupid expression, a +vague smile on her lips. He +stumbles away from her, and she +commences softly to play the organ +again.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>swallowing hard—in a hoarse +whisper, as if he had difficulty in speaking</i>]. +You said—you was agoin' mad—God!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A long wail is heard from the deck +above, "Ah, bl-o-o-o-ow!" A moment +later the Mate's face appears +through the skylight. He cannot +see Mrs. Keeney.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate</span> [<i>in great excitement</i>]. Whales, +sir—a whole school of 'em—off the +star-b'd quarter 'bout five miles away—big +ones!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>galvanized into action</i>]. Are +you lowerin' the boats?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>with grim decision</i>]. I'm +acomin' with ye.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Aye, aye, sir. [<i>Jubilantly.</i>] +You'll git the ile now right enough, sir.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>His head is withdrawn and he can +be heard shouting orders.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>turning to his wife</i>]. Annie! +Did you hear him? I'll git the ile. [<i>She +doesn't answer or seem to know he is +there. He gives a hard laugh which is +almost a groan.</i>] I know you're foolin' +me, Annie. You ain't out of your mind—[<i>Anxiously.</i>] +be you? I'll git the ile +now right enough—jest a little while +longer, Annie—then we'll turn home'ard. +I can't turn back now, you see that, +don't you? I've got to git the ile. [<i>In +sudden terror.</i>] Answer me! You ain't +mad, be you?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She keeps on playing the organ, but +makes no reply. The Mate's face +appears again through the skylight.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> All ready, sir.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Keeney turns his back on his wife +and strides to the doorway, where +he stands for a moment and looks +back at her in anguish, fighting to +control his feelings.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mate.</span> Comin', sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Keeney</span> [<i>his face suddenly grows hard +with determination</i>]. Aye.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He turns abruptly and goes out. +Mrs. Keeney does not appear to +notice his departure. Her whole +attention seems centered in the +organ. She sits with half-closed +eyes, her body swaying a little from +side to side to the rhythm of the +hymn. Her fingers move faster +and faster and she is playing +wildly and discordantly as the</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><i>Curtain falls.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_NURSERY_MAID_OF_HEAVEN" id="THE_NURSERY_MAID_OF_HEAVEN"></a>THE NURSERY MAID OF HEAVEN</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Miracle Play</span><br /> + +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Thomas Wood Stevens</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Based on a story by Vernon Lee.<br /> +<br /> +Copyright, 1920, by Thomas Wood Stevens.<br /> +<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p><span class="smcap">The Nursery Maid of Heaven</span> was first produced by the School of the Drama, +Carnegie Institute of Technology, Pittsburgh, Pa., on the night of November 14, 1919, +with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sister Benvenuta</span></td><td align='left'><i>Hazel Beck</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sister Grimana</span></td><td align='left'><i>Alicia S. Guthrie</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Sister Rosalba</span></td><td align='left'><i>Grey McAuley</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Abbess</span></td><td align='left'><i>Dorothy Rubinstein</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Sister Sacristan</span></td><td align='left'><i>Inez D. R. Hazel</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Atalanta Badoer</span> [<i>a novice</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Carolyn McCampbell</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi</span></td><td align='left'><i>Wm. R. Dean</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Puppet Man</span></td><td align='left'><i>Lawrence Paquin</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb Satanasso</span></td><td align='left'><i>James S. Church</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Scene I</span>:</td><td align='left'>The Chapter-Room of the Convent of Our Lady of the Rosebush, Cividale.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Scene II</span>:</td><td align='left'>Benvenuta's cell.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Scene III</span>:</td><td align='left'>The Chapter-Room.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>Early in the eighteenth century. Some days elapse between scenes</i>.</p> + +<p class="center">Stage settings and properties by <span class="smcap">Alexander Wyckoff</span> and <span class="smcap">David S. Gaither</span>.<br /> +Lightning by <span class="smcap">Arleigh B. Williamson</span>.<br /> +Costumes by <span class="smcap">Sara E. Bennett</span> and <span class="smcap">Lela May Aultman</span>.<br /> +Music by <span class="smcap">Charles Pearson</span>.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p>The amateur and professional stage rights to <span class="smcap">The Nursery Maid of Heaven</span> are +reserved by the author. Applications for permission to produce the play should be +addressed to Frank Shay, Stewart & Kidd Company, Cincinnati, Ohio. No performance +may be given without his consent.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE NURSERY MAID OF HEAVEN</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Miracle Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Thomas Wood Stevens</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene I:</span> <i>Atalanta, the novice, sits, rebellious +and sullen, on the steps of the +Mother Superior's daïs. From time to +time nuns and novices pass across the +stage to the left, on their way to the refectory. +Sister Grimana, an old nun, +comes down to Atalanta purposefully.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Sulking again, are you? +Waiting for Sister Benvenuta, are you?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta is silent.</i>]</p> + +<p>Remembering things that are really no +concern of yours; and thinking they concern +you because you remember them—doubtless +quite inaccurately. I know. +It's a way of the Badoer family—and of +the Loredani, too, for that matter. When +you were a child there was confiture with +the bread—and you threw away the +crust; and they let you do it, and now +you can't find your vocation.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She taps her foot impatiently.</i>]</p> + +<p>Well—well—will you come?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta is still silent, her face hard +with resolution.</i>]</p> + +<p>I might mention it to the Sister Sacristan. +She'd fetch you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta gives her a look of scornful +disgust.</i>]</p> + +<p>It's as well you didn't say that in so +many words, Sister.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta looks straight before her, +a statue of silence.</i>]</p> + +<p>Perhaps there is some one you would +prefer to have me call, before the Sister +Sacristan comes to fetch you? Sister +Rosalba?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>No response.</i>]</p> + +<p>So it must be Sister Benvenuta, must +it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I would speak with her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Oho! You would speak +with her! And so you shall—for the +love I bore your mother when we were +children together. But what good she +can do you, with her chatter and laughing—childish +laughing and chatter—I +can't see. I'll send her to you. And +meantime, count your buttons. That's my +advice. Count your buttons.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She comes close and speaks more +confidentially.</i>]</p> + +<p>That helps greatly—it did when I was +your age.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Grimana goes off. Atalanta mechanically +runs her fingers over the +buttons of her novice's cape; as she +arrives at the end of the row, she +mutters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Even you, Benvenuta!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>At the second word she rises +abruptly, her hands on the veil.</i>]</p> + +<p>Heaven forgive me!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She tears off the veil just as Benvenuta +enters from the left. Benvenuta +limps down around the +Mother Superior's throne, and on +seeing Atalanta with her veil off, +bursts into laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Even you, Benvenuta! +What amuses you so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> It's your hair. It's so +funny—it's so long since I've seen your +hair, Atalanta, dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta</span> [<i>sullenly</i>]. It's not that I +want to talk to you about. You needn't +have laughed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I know, dear. I shouldn't +have laughed, but I always do. I'm so +unworthy. I can't seem to help it, +though I tell myself, often and often, +that it's trifling and worldly to laugh so +much, and undignified, too, before the +children and novices. I will try not to +laugh, Atalanta. Sister Grimana said +you wanted me. What is it, dear?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She looks at Atalanta and smothers +another laugh.</i>]</p> + +<p>Put on your veil, child.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Don't call me child—I'm +only three years younger than you, and +I'm taller.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She puts on the veil again, still +sullen.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> You're only a novice and +I call you a child—very properly, too. +And if you want me to talk to you, you +must listen—like a good child.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A step is heard approaching and a +rattle of keys; Atalanta pulls at +Benvenuta's dress as if to draw her +down beside her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> It's the Sister Sacristan. +Now she'll make me go, and there's something +you must tell me—you must—I +beg of you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan comes in and +goes straight to Atalanta, ignoring +Benvenuta. Her keys are audible +as she walks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Sister Sacristan.</span> Well, Mistress +Perverse and Disobedient? Not come to +reason yet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Pray you, Sister Sacristan, +pardon her. Let me speak with her +a little while—only a little while. Her +tasks can wait—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> Her tasks! Praise +the Blessed Mother, in this noble house we +need not depend on the novices for anything. +It's not that—it's the discipline +in the pigeon cot. The Mother Abbess +will be displeased—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Pray you, Sister Sacristan. +This novice has asked of me some +spiritual admonition. She is my kinswoman, +and I cannot refuse it. So I ask +you for a little time with her, to speak +to her of spiritual things, and perhaps +bring her some comfort, to the end that +her holy vocation may the sooner come. +I ask it in humility, Sister Sacristan.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan</span> [<i>crossing to the +closet, which she unlocks</i>]. Admonition, +eh?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She takes out some vestments, which +she hangs over her arm, closing the +door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I ask you to remember, +Sister, that last Thursday I took upon +myself the vexed matter of the hair of +the two new novices, and that it throve +in my charge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> Yes—throve. You +so coddled them that they cried for you +each night after, and are more trouble +to the lay sisters than ever. But since +she's your kinswoman—have it as you +will. I look for little effect from your +admonitions, I may as well tell you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She removes her keys and goes out, +without locking the closet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> That was good of you, +Benvenuta. Now, listen to me. I am +unworthy. I am unhappy. I feel no +call. Tell me—tell me about the +world, Sister Benvenuta—I beg you, +tell me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I will tell you of God's +love, and of this holy life—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta</span> [<i>leading her to the stairway, +where she sits down</i>]. Yes—I know. +But first, tell me about the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I only tell you by way +of admonition—that you may see how +hollow is the world, and full of delusion—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I understand you. Go +on.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She draws Benvenuta down beside +her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> You must know then, +that I—even I, Sister Benvenuta, was a +most worldly little girl. I can remember +so clearly how I used to run madly +through the gardens, and roll on the +grass like—like a wild puppy, and bury +my face in the roses—till they scratched +my nose and the warm scent made me +dizzy. And then I would climb on the +wall and watch the barges go by, with +the strong men sculling them, and the +women under the awnings sorting crabs +and prawns.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Tell me about the barge +people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> That was all I saw of +them. And then they would take me to +my lady mother, of a forenoon, while she +was having her hair powdered and +curled; and there would be a black page +bringing her chocolate, and her serving +cavalier would be leaning beside her +mirror taking snuff.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Yes—tell me about the +cavalier servant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> That was all I ever saw +of him. But he was very worldly, I am +sure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I wish you had seen more +of him. And your mother? Did she +have little children?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> You know well I was the +youngest of our family. That was why +I was destined for the benefice we possessed +in this high born convent.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Tell me about your father?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I used only to see him +once in a month, and I was much frightened +of him—he was so noble and so +just.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Oh, he was a father of that +sort, was he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> And when he did receive +me, he had a handkerchief like a turban +around his head, and horn spectacles on +his nose, and he would be making gold +with an astrologer, or putting devils in +retorts. That was what he said he was +doing, but I know now that he deceived +me; he was a very worldly man, though +he was so noble and just.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Tell me, Benvenuta, when +you were in the world, did you ever see +mothers and babies—tiny babies—not +old at all?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> The only one was in the +picture in our chapel—the panel in the +center with the Blessed Mother and the +little Child Christ. He was so sweet, +and his eyes were as if they would open +in a moment and then I should know +what color of eyes they were.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta</span> [<i>glancing toward the Sacristy +closet</i>]. And that's why you so love +the Bambino they keep in the Sacristy +closet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta</span> [<i>more passionately</i>]. And +was it easy for you, Benvenuta—always +easy in your heart, to give up the +world?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I was destined for this, +dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta</span> [<i>rising</i>]. I am not sure. I +was not destined. I am—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Ssh! Dear Atalanta. Be +quiet. Be calm. Yes, I was worldly, +and I gave it up willingly—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Yes, it was easy for you, +and so you think it should be for me. +You never even saw a little baby with +her mother. You were destined, and you +were the youngest—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> It was for the best. I +was unworthy, but I gave up the world +willingly—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. Willingly—you +were lame, and—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stops, biting her lips. There is +a pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Yes. I was a little lame. +But I was a worldly little girl.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Forgive me, dear sister. +I meant no hurt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> You did not hurt me.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Another pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Dear Benvenuta, one thing +I must tell you. I must. It happened +just before I came here.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Benvenuta looks at her soberly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Are you sure it is to me +you should tell it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> It is not a sin—not something +I could confess, dear. It was this. +Just as you looked over the wall at the +barges, it was. In our gardens there +was a time when the old gardener brought +a vinedresser to help him. And the vinedresser's +wife came with his dinner and +their baby. And I came on them eating +under the ilex trees, very secretly, of +course. And the baby was clambering +over her. She was no older than I am +now—the vinedresser's wife. And she +fed the baby at her breast in the deep +shade under the ilexes. And I talked to +her. Then the old gardener came, and of +course I walked away, very haughtily, as +became a daughter of the house. But +hear me, sister. I cannot forget her, the +vinedresser's wife with the baby clambering +over her, under the shade of the +ilex trees, I cannot put her out of my +thoughts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I understand you, dear. +I cannot put out of my thoughts the poor +little Bambino in the Sacristy closet all +the year around, shut up with the saint's +bones and the spare vestments, and he +with only a piece of stiff purple and gold +stuff around his middle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I cannot think that the +same. The vinedresser's baby was alive—so +alive.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> It is much the same, I +think.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Anyway, I am glad I told +you, Benvenuta. Why can I not forget +about it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta</span> [<i>laying her hand on Atalanta's +head</i>]. It would be better if you +could forget it, Atalanta. You must go +now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> One moment—don't take +your hand away. I had to tell somebody.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Both look off in a sort of dreamy +ecstasy, thinking of the two babies. +Grimana enters again. Atalanta +rises.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I am full of thankfulness, +Sister Benvenuta. I will go to my task.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta bows her head and follows +Grimana out. A muffled droning +chorus is heard from the chapel. +Benvenuta watches the others go +off, and then speaks to the Bambino +through the door of the Sacristy +closet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> My dear—my dear little +Great One, can you hear my voice through +the door? Dear little child Christ, I am +so sorry for you, alone for days and days +in the closet with the holy relics and the +wax lights. And at night it must be +very cold for you. I wish I might touch +you, dear little Great One, with my hands.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She tries the door and, finding it +unfastened, draws back from it a +moment.</i>]</p> + +<p>It is open; the Sister Sacristan has left +it unlocked. For this I am thankful, +for I am sure you put it into her mind +to leave it so—or that you by your divine +power and foresight put it out of her +mind to lock it as she intended.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She opens the door and looks in.</i>]</p> + +<p>If only I could get appointed Sacristan! +But I am too young and being lame would +prevent my getting on to the step-ladders, +as a Sacristan must. But I would never +leave you alone among the relics in their +cotton-wool, little Great One. And now—just +for a moment lest the Sister +Sacristan come back—I will take you +out of the closet.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She brings out the Bambino.</i>]</p> + +<p>I will show you the chapter room, +for while you have seen all places, and +the high heavens and all the hells, it +will be pleasant to you to see the chapter +room, after so long in the closet. See, +yonder is the seat of the Mother Abbess. +She is very great, and very holy, and of +the high house of the Morosini. And +that way is to the refectory and the work +room. And that way is to the chapel—up +the stairs. And up that way are +our cells, where I sleep and where I +pray to dream of you, little Great One. +Touch my cheek, I pray you.... How +cold your hands are!... Touch my +cheek as she said the vinedresser's babe +touched his mother's—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stops suddenly, and then reverently +returns the Bambino to his +place. She kneels before the open +door.</i>]</p> + +<p>Forgive me, dear little Child Christ. +I spoke not in vain glory. But all my +life I have waited, not knowing for what +... but happy ... dreaming that sometime.... +If it be a sin I will confess +it—I will.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Again the rattle of keys is heard. +Benvenuta stands up hurriedly and +speaks in a half whisper.</i>]</p> + +<p>She is coming back to lock the closet. +But I will get you a coat for the cold +nights. Your hands were so cold. I will +get you a warm coat—that I promise, +dear little Great One.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She closes the door and stands before +it looking consciously innocent, +as the Sister Sacristan enters. +The Sister Sacristan is not deceived, +however.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> By your leave, Sister +Benvenuta.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She ostentatiously locks the closed +door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Sister Sacristan, I trust +the novice you left in my charge has returned +to her task.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan</span>. I trust she has.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. I wish +I might help you with your duties sometimes, +Sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> I do not need you, +little sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I am sorry.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Mechanically she counts her buttons.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter the Abbess.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Abbess</span> [<i>to the Sacristan</i>]. Sister, +go into the chapel and tell the Reverend +Father that the Bolognese puppet man is +waiting, and say that I wish to see him +here; and bid the Reverend Father bring +the manuscript of his poem for Shrove +Tuesday.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan goes out. Benvenuta +remains, waiting patiently +for a word from the Abbess.</i>]</p> + +<p>Well, my little sister?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I pray you, Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I listen, little sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> It is about the little +Child Christ. I pray you that a coat may +be made for him—a warm coat of soft +silk; for at Christmas he lies out in the +draughty manger before the altar, and +even at other times he is very cold at +night here in the Sacristy closet. And +I pray you, Mother?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I listen.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Reënter the Sister Sacristan.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> That I may help with the +making of the coat, for all that I sew so +badly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. Truly, our little sister +Benvenuta Loredan was born to be +the nursery-maid of Heaven.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> Is it for me to know +also, Mother?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Our little sister wishes that a +coat of warm silk be made for the little +Bambino, against next Christmas in the +cold of the chapel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> I suspected something +of that kind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> You do not approve, sister?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> No, mother. It +would be taking the time and money from +the redressing of the skeleton of Saint +Prosdoscimus, which is a most creditable +relic, of unquestioned authenticity, with +real diamond loops in his eye holes; this +skeleton ought to be made fit to exhibit +for veneration. And besides, this Bambino +never had any clothes, and so far as +I know never wanted any. The purple +sash is only for modesty's sake. And as +for such a new-fangled proposal coming +from Sister Benvenuta—that alone—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> That will do. Fie, fie, little +sister. The Sacred Bambino is not your +serving Cavalier, that you should wish +to cover him with silk and velvet. Is the +Reverend Father coming?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> Immediately, mother. +He only stayed to gather his manuscript.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Call in the man with the puppets.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit Sister Sacristan.</i>]</p> + +<p>And now, little sister, you may go. +You see it is not wise, ... your thought +for the Bambino.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> No, mother. I see it is +not wise.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Benvenuta goes up the staircase +and off at the left.—The Abbess +seats herself in the chair of State. +The Father Confessor comes in +from the Chapel.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> You are welcome, Father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi</span> [<i>bowing very low</i>]. Happy +greetings, Reverendissima.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I have sent for you because +the puppet man, the Bolognese one you +sent for, has come to make his bargain +for the Shrove-tide play, and I wished +you to be present, lest he fail to serve +your inspiration worthily.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> I am grateful for your +care in the matter, Reverendissima.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Enter Sister Sacristan.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> The fellow is waiting?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan bows.</i>]</p> + +<p>Show him in.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p>And now, Father, I pray that you will +make terms for your play, as you please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> Perhaps I had better not +do that, Reverendissima. Poets are proverbially +improvident—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> That does not matter in the +least. Whatever he charges, I shall beat +him down.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan brings in the +Puppet Man, who carries a bag of +his puppets on his arm. He bows +extravagantly to the Abbess.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> Excellenza Reverendissima, +my prayers shall in the future be +lightened by the memory of your presence. +Reverend Father, I am humbly +your servant.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Abbess nods to Father Filosi.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> You have been summoned +here, sir, with regard to the Shrove +Tuesday play which her Excellenza condescends +to give for the edification of the +friends of this noble convent. She has +commissioned me to write the poem, and +she graciously proposes to allow you to +perform it with your puppets.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> I am honored, and in +me all my craft is honored.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> I have here the manuscript +of my poor device.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> I cannot have so excellent +a work so slightly spoken of.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> A trifle ... a trifle. +But I trust, when you have done your +part, it may amuse the novices and the +ladies—noble guests of Our Lady of the +Rosebush.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> Is it from the gospels, +or a saint's story?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> Humbly, it is the story +of Judith.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> Humbly, as an artist, I +am filled with delight. And I have for +it just the figures you could wish. A +Judith, lovely beyond the power of song, +and a Prince, heavy with gold, and a +cavalier for the lady—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> That will not serve. In +my play she goes with only her maid-servant +to the tent of the Holophernes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> It is not usual, in Venice. +Will it not be deemed strange by +the ladies present?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> Better so, than its author +be deemed ignorant by the learned Reverendissima, +who will grace your performance +personally.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man</span> [<i>stiffly</i>]. I bow to your +learning, Reverend Father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> My poem will require of +you some artistry, and not all of the +stale and accustomed sort.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Puppet Man bows.</i>]</p> + +<p>I shall require, for example, that the +head of the Holophernes be actually and +visibly severed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> I will undertake it, and +moreover, I will promise a goodly flow of +red blood from the corpus of the Holophernes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> Excellent. Further, there +is required a Triumph of Judith, in a +car of state, and a figure of Time, speaking, +and a Religion, out of the clouds, who +speaks some verse in praise of the Reverendissima +and of the noble house of the +Morosini. All this must be carried out +precisely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> All this I undertake, +seeing how famous is this convent, and +of how illustrious a house is its Abbessa. +Suffer me to inquire if the entire poem is +of a lofty and tragic nature.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> Certainly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> This is a great honor to +me, but a ruinous one as well. For I +see I shall have no opportunity to bring +on my most potent figures—my Harlequino +with the seven wires, and—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> Harlequino does not appear +in the poem.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> But might he not appear +in an interlude? Let me suggest, +in all humility, that I might perform an +interlude between the Harlequino and +the serving-wench of Judith, after the +death of the Holophernes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> Dio, dio—what a profanation!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Come, come, your Reverence, +I see no profanation in it. We must not +be too severe—too lofty. Think of our +guests, and of the novices, mere children +in heart—who will be witnessing our +play. Let there be something in it for +the liking of all, I should say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> But, Reverendissima—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> I could assure you of +the success of the poem, if you would +permit it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I am sure it will be permitted. +And now, sir, there are some other matters +to be settled. First, we shall require +that you bring here your puppets, +in advance of the play, for our inspection, +lest there be anything ungodly and +unfit about them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> It is the custom. I have +brought some; and you shall have the +others when I have conned the reverend +Father's poem, and know which ones shall +be required.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Opens his bag and takes out puppets.</i>]</p> + +<p>Here is a lady who might serve for +Judith. And here a Prince, though I +have a richer one, better perhaps for +the Holophernes. And here a devil—a +Satanasso, and here—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Leave them all on the table. +I will have them examined at leisure. +Now, sir, tell me what you expect to be +paid for this performance?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man</span> [<i>fingering his manuscript</i>]. +Reverendissima, considering the +difficulties of the poem, and the Holophernes +to be visibly beheaded, and the +great fame of this convent, that is said to +require of every novice sixteen quarterings +to her crest and a thousand ducats of +dowry, and considering the illustrious +family of which the Abbessa herself +descends—I will perform the poem in +the best manner for twelve ducats.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Considering just the matters +you mention, and the honor to you to +bring your puppets into this convent at +all, you shall have five ducats.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> Five ducats—Reverendissima, +I cannot have heard you +aright—five ducats.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Five ducats.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man.</span> Mercy of the Saints! +Five ducats for Shrove Tuesday, and a +Holophernes to be visibly beheaded—in +a most illustrious convent, too. It is ruin +to me, Reverendissima—black ruin.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Five ducats you shall have.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man</span> [<i>starting to put his puppets +back in the bag</i>]. It is not possible, +Reverendissima. No one of my craft +could do it—even the worst of them +would ask more than I have. Mere jugglers +and bunglers from Padua would +ask twenty ducats. And the fame of this +convent! I see I have been deceived,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Be silent, sir. You cannot +trifle with me. Put down your trinkets. +Do you know who I am, and of what +family in the world? Well, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puppet Man</span> [<i>slowly putting down his +puppets again</i>]. Maybe it will profit me +in the sight of the Saints—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I need not warn you further. +Be prepared for the performance in the +best style against Shrove Tuesday. And +if all goes well, I may add a ducat to +your fee.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She taps a gong on the table, and +the Sister Sacristan enters. The +Puppet Man, dismissed, bows himself +out, clutching the manuscript +to his breast. The Sacristan +follows him out, returning at +once.</i>]</p> + +<p>Now, Father, since the play is yours, +it shall also be yours to pass on the +propriety of the figures.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> I do not seek the responsibility, +Reverendissima. Will you not +excuse me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> You have some intention in +this, Father?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> Will you not excuse me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. Certainly not. What +troubles you about it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> Reverendissima, I would +gladly have passed it in silence. Your +wisdom in matters of the world—and of +the Church—is greater than mine. But +look you now. This Judith I think shows +more of her bosom than is seemly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess</span> [<i>with asperity</i>]. I will instruct +you. By the laws on the serene Republic, +a Venetian lady may show one-half of +her bosom and no more, and there is no +immodesty in the proceeding. This law +the lady Judith obeys.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> I do not dissent from +your wisdom, nor from the law of Venice. +Still, it seems to me there would be +more propriety in it if we were to have a +collarette of tissue pinned about her—the +eyes of all the novices, remember—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I remember also our guests, +many of them ladies of the first houses, +who would certainly take it amiss, and as +a reflection upon themselves—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> I wish with all my heart, +Reverendissima, you had excused me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess</span> [<i>turning to Sister Sacristan</i>]. +I will ask the Sisters Grimana Emo and +Rosalba Foscarini to examine the puppets.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p>Their learning in theology may not be +profound, but they know the world's +judgment, coming as they do of the first +families.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Abbe Filosi bows low.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> I shall be at your service, +Reverendissima.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I thank you enough for the +poem. Farewell.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He bows himself out, at right, as +Sister Grimana and Sister Rosalba +enter left.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> You have sent for us, +Mother?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> In the matter of the Shrove +Tuesday play—yes. The puppets will +be brought in advance, as usual. These +few the show-man has already left.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> You wish them to be looked +over, as usual?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Not quite as usual. This +year they are to appear in a play or poem +which the Father Confessor has written +for us—dealing with the story of Judith. +Now the good Abbe, though a man of +great learning and a graceful poet withal, +has not the advantage of family that some +of our sisters—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> And some of our guests—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> I remember once, at a fête +in the gardens of my uncle, the Doge—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I need instruct you no further. +I do not wish anything ungodly or unfit +to appear; nor do I wish anything in the +play to suggest that there is any impropriety +in the illustrious audience.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> I understand, Mother. It +is chiefly a question of the dressing of +the ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Precisely. I shall leave it in +your charge. Remembering, Sister +Grimana, the laws of Venice and the customs +of the house of your father, the +most illustrious Admiral, and you Sister +Rosalba, the fêtes in the gardens of your +uncle, the Doge—surely it will be properly +cared for.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Exit the Abbess.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> All this because we have +been given a bourgeois Confessor—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> No matter for that, Sister. +I love puppets. We had once a puppet +festival, when they played the whole history +of the Serene Republic, and there +were great ships with puppet sailors—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They begin to separate the puppets +with their wires and strings. Enter +Sister Benvenuta.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Oh, the joy! Are these +for the Shrove Tuesday play? If only +we could show them to—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She glances toward the Sacristy +closet, stops, and goes on.</i>]</p> + +<p>Sister Rosalba, can you make them +dance?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Dance, forsooth—to what +music, sister?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> You might sing for them, +Sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Aye, so I might.—Time +was when I knew tunes enough.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> There is a lute in the +cloister—left from the musical mass. +And my cousin Atalanta can play it—I +should like to hear some music +here.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She glances at the closet.</i>]</p> + +<p>I'll fetch her.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes off to find Atalanta.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> What personages have we +here? This lady for Judith?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> That can scarcely be, +Judith was black haired.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Nothing of the sort. She +had hair of a dark red—a smoldering +color.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> Was she not of the tribe?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> What matters the tribe? +In her picture by Titian, in the great hall +of my father's house—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> We had a Judith also—by +Jacopo Bellini. He was Titian's master. +Her hair was black.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> You may be right. In our +picture by Titian, now I remember it, the +head was so covered with a wonderful +jeweled crown that we could see little of +the hair.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Rosalba is somewhat put down by +the splendor of Grimana's Titian. +Benvenuta comes back with Atalanta, +who carries a lute. As she +appears Grimana untangles and +holds up another puppet—the +Beelzebubb.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Here's a personage of terror.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She turns the figure and moves it +threateningly toward Benvenuta, +who looks at Beelzebubb and is instantly +seized with a wild fit of +laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p>Saint Mark preserve us! You are +queerly pleased, Sister. It's not many +that laugh at this figure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba</span> [<i>reading the figure's label</i>]. +He's Beelzebubb Satanasso, Prince of all +Devils.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I pray your pardon. I +could not keep from laughing. I can +never look at a devil without laughing. +He seems so anxious to understand, and +so important with the responsibility of +being Prince of all Devils.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> You may laugh if you like, +but you should remember how ready he +is to slip away with the unwary souls of +people who laugh at him. How he is +always in wait, by day and by night, for +a wavering thought or a rift in one's +faith—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> See here the pouch he carries +to put your soul in. Truly, Sister, +he might pluck you off like a cherry.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta</span> [<i>shuddering</i>]. Dear Sister +Grimana—I beg of you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> And he comes at the call +of the secret thought—that's what makes +him look so anxious—lest he should not +be listening when you call him, and the +Saints come to your soul first, and warn +it—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Sister Grimana!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Still, I can never look at +him without laughing. He is droll. Atalanta, +the lute.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta brings forward the lute +and tries the strings. Rosalba +takes up the puppet of the lady.</i>]</p> + +<p>I saw the show-man. He was a most +ill-favored man. Sister Rosalba, do you +think he was excommunicate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> Of course not. And if he +were, that would not make his puppets +excommunicate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> What if it did? A noble +convent has privileges. It would not +matter to us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> What shall I play?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Can you play? [<i>She sings</i>]:</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Go visto una colomba el cielo andare<br /> +Che la svolava su per un giardino<br /> +In mezzo 'l peto la gavea do ale<br /> +E in boca la tegniva un zenzamino!<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I do not know the air. +But I can play a furlana.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> That will be gay, Atalanta. +Play a furlana, I beg you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> That will serve, Sister Rosalba, +your prince.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As Atalanta plays, Grimana manipulates +the Judith and Rosalba the +Prince. They are unskillful and +the puppets dance crudely, but +Benvenuta looks on in ecstasy, +falling slowly back until she stands +by the door of the closet. As she +does so two or three more nuns and +novices come furtively in at the +back and stand watching the performance. +As the dance of the +puppets grows more animated the +Abbess enters with the Sister +Sacristan. For a moment the +others do not see her, and the play +continues. Then she speaks coldly +and evenly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Sisters, is this the solemn +judgment I bespoke on these trinkets? +Sister Grimana!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Grimana lays down the puppets and +comes forward.</i>]</p> + +<p>Sister Rosalba!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Rosalba also comes forward.</i>]</p> + +<p>I will consider this, and will give out +the penances in chapter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Yes, Mother.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Rosalba stands with her head bowed +and her fingers run along the buttons +of her cape.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> There has been too much playing +of lutes, too much worldly anticipation +and imagining among us. So I have +decided that all the holy relics shall be +re-furbished, and all the vestments +mended and cleaned, against Shrove Tuesday. +And all other work, whether of +embroidery or of whatever nature, shall +wait till this be done. Sister Sacristan, +let the tasks be set at once.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The sisters bow their heads and go +out, the Sister Sacristan following +Rosalba and Grimana off. Benvenuta +stands still in an attitude of +deep humility.</i>]</p> + +<p>Well, little Sister?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Holy Mother, I am waiting +for my penance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Your penance, Benvenuta?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> The fault was mine. I +brought Atalanta with her lute. I was +to blame for it all. I am heedless, and +unworthy, and stained with worldliness, +Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> There, there, my child. I will +overlook it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Benvenuta turns away, weeping +furtively.</i>]</p> + +<p>Come here, little Sister. Why should +you weep? I have said I will overlook it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I weep because I am unworthy +to be penanced. I am nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> You are nothing? Is not this +the very essence of humility? Little Sister, +when I forgave you your fault, did +you doubt my wisdom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Yes, holy Mother. Oh, +I have sinned in vain glory. I doubted. +But I did not mean to doubt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. Come hither, little +Sister. If I must set you a penance, +what would you have it be?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I would have it ... no....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She hesitates.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Speak, Sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I would have you set me +to the making of a coat for the Holy +Bambino, as I asked of you before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> That would hardly be a penance. +And, besides, you sew so badly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Yes, Mother. I sew +badly. And it would not really be a penance.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan comes in and +takes from the closet some cloth +and a reliquary or two. She lays +them on the table, preparing them +for work.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I will speak of this another +time. Another time, little Sister.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Benvenuta stands very still. The +Abbess turns to the Sister Sacristan.</i>]</p> + +<p>What have you there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> The fine lawn for +the surplices for His Eminence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> That can wait. I do not +think it wise to leave the workroom alone +while the relics are being done over.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stands in the doorway. The +Sister Sacristan is about to follow, +but notices Benvenuta and goes +over ostentatiously to lock the +closet; then she goes out after the +Abbess. Benvenuta stands still +and her eyes go from the closet to +the cloth and takes up a piece of +lawn, and carries it with her to the +closet door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Dear little Great One, I +see no way but this to keep my promise. +I do not understand what the Holy +Mother means. But I will do my penance +when she determines it. I do sew +very badly, dear little Great One, but I +will make the stitches slowly, night by +night in my cell, and every one of them, +no matter how far askew, shall have all +the love of my heart drawn tight in it. +I have promised you a coat, little Great +One, and I will surely keep my promise.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She steals upstairs in the gathering +darkness. The organ in the chapel +is heard, faintly at first, then swelling +in exultation. Slowly, after +she disappears, the door of the +closet opens of itself, and from +within a golden light glows across +the room and up the stair. The</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Curtain Falls.</i>]</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">SCENE II.</span> <i>In her white-walled cell, +with its one high window looking over +the tree tops into the night sky, Benvenuta +sits alone, sewing, with great labor +and difficulty, by the light of a candle. +There is a soft knock, and Atalanta slips +in, bringing something concealed under +her cape.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Have you brought it, +dear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I've got the coat of the +gardener's child, but I fear it is not what +you wanted.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I'm sure it will serve. +Why do you fear for it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Because it's the little girl's +coat. The boy's I could not get, for he +has but the one, and the nights are so +cold.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> So they are—and we +wouldn't have the poor lad shivering. +Perhaps the girl's will serve. Did you +get the thread of gold?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Yes, dear.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a pause.</i>]</p> + +<p>You wouldn't be happier telling me +all about it? Or letting me help you, +perhaps?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> What good were there in +that? You sew as badly as I do, child.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> It's not kind of you to say +so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I'm sorry, Atalanta, dear. +And it's most ungrateful of me—for you +are helping me—helping me very much. +And as for my telling you—it's a great +secret, and you should be content to know +as much as you do of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I'm afraid I know too +much of it now. I'm afraid I ought to be +confessing what I know already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Confessing it. Oh, no; +Atalanta, dear—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I'm afraid I ought—unless +you tell me more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Oh, I see. Now, listen, +my child. This matter is one concerning +my devotions—a private matter surely, +and needing no confessions from you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Then why these secret messages, +and the gold thread, and the gardener's +child's coat to be got by stealth?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> For what I am doing, I +would call for help from you—or from +any one—from the Evil One himself, if +it would serve. But it is surely no sin—though +it might get you into trouble to +help me with it, Atalanta, dear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Prt! That's not what I +mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> You—you love me +enough to be troubled for my sake, a +little, dear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta</span> [<i>breaking out</i>]. I would +flout the Mother Abbess to her face for +you, Benvenuta. It's that you try to +keep me in the dark that I mind about it. +I'm going.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta turns sharply and goes. +Benvenuta lays out the little coat +of the gardener's child, and lays +her lawn, already cut, upon it. +She seems discouraged, turns it +over, and tries again. Then with +an air of resolution, she takes it +up and sews fiercely, pricking her +fingers, stopping to put them to +her mouth, and going on doggedly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I promised it, dear little +Great One, and I would give my soul to +keep my promise, but I fear me it will +never comfort you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She sews for a minute in silence. +Then lifts her head with a sudden +thought, and says aloud with a +firm resolution</i>]:</p> + +<p> +I would give my soul.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She waits. After a moment there +is a light tapping of footsteps; +then a marked rapping, as of hoofs +on a pavement; she shivers, and +starts up in sudden terror, as Beelzebubb +Satanasso confronts her. +He is like the Devil Puppet in +every respect, but the size of a +small man. He bows low in a +mechanical sort of way as if +jointed. She gazes at him in wonder, +laughs nervously and suppresses +her laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb</span> [<i>in a voice like a Jews' +harp</i>]. Sister Benvenuta, did I hear you +call for me, or wish for me to come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Yes, I called you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> You wished me to help +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> You know who I am.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He points to his label.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I know. You are Beelzebubb +Satanasso, Prince of all Devils.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She suppresses a laugh.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> You have made a promise, +and you cannot keep it, so you call +for help. I come, for I am always ready. +Now tell me precisely what it is you want.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I have promised a coat +to the little Child—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> That will do. It were +better not to speak the name. What sort +of a coat do you wish?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> May I have just what I +like?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> Certainly you may, my +dear—if you are ready to pay for it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I am ready. And I +should like a little coat like the one on +the second of the Magi in the Adoration +by Bellini that is over the altar in our +chapel at home—in the house of the +Duke Loredano.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> Let me understand exactly. +The coat is to be like the coat on +the second figure to the left from the center +of the picture?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Yes—no, there's a Saint +Joseph also at the back. He would be +the third—from the Holy—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> I pray you, keep the +names of these people out of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> These people!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Benvenuta's hand moves as if she +were about to cross herself.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> And let your hand fall. +You were about to make—to make some +sort of sign with it. These practices are +very distasteful to me. I cannot help +you—or even stay for an interview—if +you persist in them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I beg your forgiveness. +I had no intention—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> I believe that—it is +merely a habit you have learned—but it +is distasteful to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I will not offend you +again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> Now to business. You +wish of me a coat, a rich coat like that on +the third figure from the center of the +picture that is in your father's chapel at +Venice. And the size—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> To fit the little Child—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb</span> [<i>interrupting sharply</i>]. I +beg of you! I understand. The coat is +of what color?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> It is the coat of the second +of the Magi—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He puts up his hand, and she checks +herself.</i>]</p> + +<p>It is of carmine silk damask with gold +thread, and the inner vest is of white +lawn. I wish it precisely like the picture, +since you promise so much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> It shall be so. I will +undertake to bring you the coat. And in +exchange I ask only that you sign your +name here.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He takes out a parchment contract, +with a great red seal on it.</i>]</p> + +<p>I regret that ink will not do. You +must prick one of your fingers. I am +very sorry, but there is no other way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Prick my finger? Once?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> Only once, to secure the +drop of blood. I am sorry to ask it, +but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> As though it never happened +to me before!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She pricks her finger and squeezes +out a drop of Blood. He whips out +a quill pen, and deftly wets it with +the blood.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> You will sign here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> And what does it say? I +should be loath to sign anything unworthy +of my family, or of this noble +convent—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> There is nothing novel +about it—the form is quite usual, and +has been signed, I assure you, by many +of the highest families in Venice. It +merely binds me at once to furnish you +the rich coat, and you to give me your +little flame of a soul—when I come for +it. That is all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Give me the pen.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She signs the contract. He passes +his hand thrice across the pouch +and then takes from it the coat, +and lays it across her lap. He +steps back and bows stiffly, folding +the contract and smiling.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beelzebubb.</span> My dear young lady—my +dear little sister.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He bows again, and vanishes; again +the organ is heard, and Benvenuta +is left, her face glowing in ecstasy, +the carmine coat across her knees.</i>]</p> + + +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">SCENE III:</span> <i>The Chapter Room. +Night. The Abbess giving orders to +Grimana, Rosalba, the Sister Sacristan +and others, about the midnight office.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> All are to be present. None +are to be indulged. I beg you, so inform +the sisters.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Rosalba goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p>And the novices are all to be in their +places. I know the hour is late for them, +and many are young, but this is an exceptional +night. Stay.—The novice Atalanta +Badoer—I shall require her apart +from the others. She will be needed with +her lute.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> I will look to it, Reverend +Mother.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She sets about to gather her embroidery.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Now in the matter of the +relics and vestments?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan</span>. The relics are all +re-furbished and repacked in new cotton-wool, +Reverend Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> And the vestments?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> The vestments are +all in order—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She is about to mention something +about the vestments, but stops herself.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Go on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> I must report, as a +matter of duty, Reverend Mother, that +certain goods—a piece of fine lawn—cannot +be found. It was laid out here +to be used for the new surplice for His +Eminence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I do not like this. Tell me +what you know of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan</span>. This is all I know. +Except that when I returned here, the +door to the Sacristy Closet was open—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Who was here at the time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> Sister Benvenuta +was left here. When I returned she was +gone, and the closet was open, and the +lawn—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana</span> [<i>interceding</i>]. I beg you, +Reverend Mother—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Sister Grimana, I have given +you your task. Be about it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Grimana touches the buttons of her +cape one by one, and then turns +and goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p>Sister, remember that the Sister Benvenuta +comes of the noble house of the +Loredani. Guard your tongue.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan stands gloomily +biting her lips.</i>]</p> + +<p>If she has removed the cloth to some +other place, it does not matter. Remember +who she is, and that she is after all +a child in mind, in heart. We will speak +no more of this.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> No, Reverend +Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess</span>. Send Sister Rosalba to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> She is coming now, +Reverend Mother.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Rosalba comes in and the Sister +Sacristan goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> I wish to speak with Benvenuta, +Sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> I will fetch her, Reverend +Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> One moment. You have observed +her of late?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> Yes, Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> She seems pale, and not so +strong as she was. And her mind—but +then she was always a simple child.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> Of course, I do not know +the cause of her pallor. Perhaps a penance +she is undergoing secretly.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The suggestion is half a question +as are those of the Abbess as +well.</i>]</p> + +<p>She is still very young, Reverend +Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> She has confided nothing to +you, nor to Grimana?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rosalba.</span> Not to me, Mother. Shall +I call Sister Grimana?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> No. Send Benvenuta to me. +And ask Grimana to send the novice Atalanta +also—a little later.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Rosalba goes out. The Abbess goes +over and examines the Sacristy +Closet door, tries the lock, finds it +fast, and returns to her chair. +Benvenuta enters. She is more +pale than before, and looks frailer, +and her limp is more apparent, but +her eyes are wide, and rove about +the room, and her expression is of +one who has found her happiness. +The Abbess speaks to her kindly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> My child, I have called you +to me because you have seemed so pale, +and I fear you have burdened yourself +beyond your strength.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> No, Reverend Mother. I +am not burdened.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> You are not performing any +secret penance?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> None, Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Answer me truly, Benvenuta. +You have not been contemplating some +penance, and so been filled with anxiety.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I look for no penance in +this life, Reverend Mother, beyond such +as may be imposed upon me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Nothing beyond your strength +will be imposed. If you have need of +more sleep, I would be willing to relax +for you, for a time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I do not need it, Reverend +Mother.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta enters, sees the Abbess, +and stands waiting.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> If you should find yourself +overburdened, little Sister, come to me. +That will do. Atalanta, one moment.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta steps forward. Benvenuta +starts to go, but lingers.</i>]</p> + +<p>I shall need your help with the lute to-night. +I know you play it well. The +best lute player among the lay sisters +is ill. You can play from notes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> If it be not too difficult, +Reverend Mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> It is simple. But I will have +them give you the music, against the time +when you will be needed.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Abbess goes out toward the +Chapel. Benvenuta comes down to +Atalanta.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Atalanta, dear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Yes, Benvenuta.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> There is something I +must talk to you about. I have put it +off because I have been deep in my own +thoughts. You told me not so long ago +that you could not find your call, that +the world still beckoned you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Yes, it did. But I have +been calmer since we spoke of it. There +was a thing in my heart that had to be +spoken out—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I spoke it out to you, and +since then it has not troubled me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> It was about the vinedresser's +baby in your father's garden?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> You told me about it here—in +this room, was it not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Yes. Surely it was here. +How strangely you speak, Benvenuta. +Have you forgotten? It was after that +you asked me to get the gold thread, and +the child's coat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> So I did. I had almost +forgotten it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> It was a great comfort to +me to tell you, Sister—and to serve you. +Why have you asked nothing more of +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I have all the help I +need, now.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A pause. Atalanta looks at Benvenuta +wonderingly.</i>]</p> + +<p>The vinedresser's baby—did you ever +hold him in your arms?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Nor ever felt his lips +soft and moist against your cheek, nor +his fingers warm on your neck?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> No. I only saw the child, +as I told you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> I remember now. You +only saw him.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Another pause. Benvenuta is looking +toward the Sacristy closet.</i>]</p> + +<p>Atalanta, dear, do you know that we +can only be happy by pleasing those we +love most—that is what people live for, +I think. And dear, remember this: the +happiness you saw on the face of the +vinedresser's wife was as torment beside +the joy that is glowing in me.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Her eyes meet Atalanta's for a moment.</i>]</p> + +<p>Don't, dear—don't think it too strange. +Everything is strange, after all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Your face was like hers, +then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benvenuta.</span> Please don't say that, +dear. It's—it's foolish—isn't it? But +I told you once I was waiting for something—all +my life waiting. And now—and +now!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She touches Atalanta's head, lightly, +and goes off upstairs toward her +cell. Atalanta is left looking after +her. Grimana comes in.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Well, mistress. Prideful +over not sitting with the novices this +night, eh? The lute-playing comes in +well at last, does it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Oh, Sister Grimana, I—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stops, confused.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> What is it, child?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> It's Benvenuta. Have you +seen her? Have you?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Yes, dear, I've seen. She's +young. These times come to all of us, +I suppose. But they pass. Calm, child. +Count your buttons.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> I was frightened, Sister +Grimana.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Aye, you'll frighten the +novices just so in your turn. But just +the same, I wish she wouldn't—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Abbess reënters, as a bell +strikes from the chapel. Rosalba +comes on from the left, with two or +three sisters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> It is time. Let us all proceed +to the chapel.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan carrying the +lute and some music, enters from +the chapel.</i>]</p> + +<p>Are all the sisters assembled?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> All save those who +are here, and Sister Benvenuta.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Please you, Sister Grimana, +go for Benvenuta.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Grimana goes up the stairs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sister Sacristan.</span> Here is the lute, +Atalanta Badoer. The notes are clear, +and the times you are to play them are +written there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> My hands tremble so. I'm +afraid I shall fail in it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Courage, child. I know it is +the first time, but you will do well—I +am sure you will do well. Come, let us +take our places.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Grimana enters on the steps, in +great trouble of mind. She carries +in her hand the puppet of the Beelzebubb, +twisted and shattered and +singed with fire.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> Reverend Mother, forgive +me. I have seen—I have seen—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She clasps and unclasps her hands, +unable to speak.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> What was it, Grimana?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> I scarcely know, Mother. +Mary be my shield!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Speak, Sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana.</span> There was a great light +through every crevice of the door of her +cell. And music in the air—like harps +and viols d'amour. And on the floor outside +I found this—shattered and half +burnt—this puppet. And from within, +sounds—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Tell me all, Sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grimana</span> [<i>her fingers on the buttons of +her cape</i>]. Sounds as of a mother and +her babe, cooing and kissing and caressing +each other.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Call the Father Confessor.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan goes out toward +the chapel.</i>]</p> + +<p>We must look to this. If her mind +have broken under some penance—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Atalanta.</span> Let me go—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> No. She was so pale—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Sister Sacristan returns with +the Abbe Filosi.</i>]</p> + +<p>Reverend Father, the little sister of the +house of Loredan—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Then, the upper corridor is filled +with a growing light—the same +radiant gold that streamed from +the Sacristy closet. The sisters +bless themselves and most of them +fall on their knees. In the light +Benvenuta appears walking erect, +her lameness gone, and holding before +her the Christ Child, in a wondrous +robe of carmine silk damask. +She laughs softly with the babe as +she passes, and when she has passed +off toward the chapel, whence the +organ is again heard, the light +fades.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi</span> [<i>in a hushed voice</i>]. A +miracle!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> She is healed! A miracle of +the Holy Child. Blessed Mother—thy +Holy Child in our house.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta goes swiftly up the steps +and off after Benvenuta.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbe Filosi.</span> Let there be a special +service of thanksgiving.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abbess.</span> Let all hearts be uplifted!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Atalanta returns, trailing her lute +behind her, and sinks down at the +head of the stairway, sobbing.</i>]</p> + +<p class="center">[<i>Curtain.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THREE_TRAVELERS_WATCH_A_SUNRISE" id="THREE_TRAVELERS_WATCH_A_SUNRISE"></a>THREE TRAVELERS WATCH A SUNRISE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Wallace Stevens</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1916, by Wallace Stevens.<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p>Reprinted from "Poetry" (Chicago) by permission of Mr. Wallace Stevens and +Miss Harriet Monroe. Applications for permission to produce this play should be +addressed to Mr. Wallace Stevens, 125 Trumbull Street, Hartford, Conn.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THREE TRAVELERS WATCH A SUNRISE</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Wallace Stevens</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>The characters are three Chinese, two +negroes and a girl.</i></p> + +<p><i>The scene represents a forest of heavy +trees on a hilltop in eastern Pennsylvania. +To the right is a road, obscured by bushes. +It is about four o'clock of a morning in +August, at the present time.</i></p> + +<p><i>When the curtain rises, the stage is +dark. The limb of a tree creaks. A +negro carrying a lantern passes along the +road. The sound is repeated. The negro +comes through the bushes, raises his lantern +and looks through the trees. Discerning +a dark object among the +branches, he shrinks back, crosses stage, +and goes out through the wood to the +left.</i></p> + +<p><i>A second negro comes through the +bushes to the right. He carries two large +baskets, which he places on the ground +just inside of the bushes. Enter three +Chinese, one of whom carries a lantern. +They pause on the road,</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese.</span> All you need,<br /> +To find poetry,<br /> +Is to look for it with a lantern. [<i>The Chinese laugh.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> I could find it without,<br /> +On an August night,<br /> +If I saw no more<br /> +Then the dew on the barns.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Second Negro makes a sound to +attract their attention. The three +Chinese come through the bushes. +The first is short, fat, quizzical, and +of middle age. The second is of +middle height, thin and turning +gray; a man of sense and sympathy. +The third is a young man, +intent, detached. They wear European +clothes.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese</span> [<i>glancing at the baskets</i>].<br /> +Dew is water to see,<br /> +Not water to drink:<br /> +We have forgotten water to drink.<br /> +Yet I am content<br /> +Just to see sunrise again.<br /> +I have not seen it<br /> +Since the day we left Pekin.<br /> +It filled my doorway,<br /> +Like whispering women.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese.</span> And I have never seen it.<br /> +If we have no water,<br /> +Do find a melon for me<br /> +In the baskets.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Second Negro, who has been +opening the baskets, hands the +First Chinese a melon.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese.</span> Is there no spring?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The negro takes a water bottle of +red porcelain from one of the baskets +and places it near the Third +Chinese.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese</span> [<i>to Third Chinese</i>].<br /> +Your porcelain water bottle.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>One of the baskets contains costumes +of silk, red, blue and green. +During the following speeches, the +Chinese put on these costumes, with +the assistance of the negro, and +seat themselves on the ground.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> This fetches its own water.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Takes the bottle and places it on the +ground in the center of the stage.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +I drink from it, dry as it is,<br /> +As you from maxims, [<i>To Second Chinese.</i>]<br /> +Or you from melons. [<i>To First Chinese.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese.</span> Not as I, from melons.<br /> +Be sure of that.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese.</span> Well, it is true of maxims.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He finds a book in the pocket of his +costume, and reads from it.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute"> +"The court had known poverty +and wretchedness; humanity had invaded +its seclusion, with its suffering +and its pity."</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The limb of the tree creaks.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Yes: it is true of maxims,<br /> +Just as it is true of poets,<br /> +Or wise men, or nobles,<br /> +Or jade.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese.</span> Drink from wise men? From jade?<br /> +Is there no spring?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Turning to the negro, who has taken +a jug from one of the baskets.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Fill it and return.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The negro removes a large candle +from one of the baskets and hands +it to the First Chinese; then takes +the jug and the lantern and enters +the trees to the left. The First +Chinese lights the candle and places +it on the ground near the water +bottle.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> There is a seclusion of porcelain<br /> +That humanity never invades.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese</span> [<i>with sarcasm</i>]. Porcelain!</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> It is like the seclusion of sunrise,<br /> +Before it shines on any house.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese.</span> Pooh!</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese.</span> This candle is the sun;<br /> +This bottle is earth:<br /> +It is an illustration<br /> +Used by generations of hermits.<br /> +The point of difference from reality<br /> +Is this:<br /> +That, in this illustration,<br /> +The earth remains of one color—<br /> +It remains red,<br /> +It remains what it is.<br /> +But when the sun shines on the earth,<br /> +In reality<br /> +It does not shine on a thing that remains<br /> +What it was yesterday.<br /> +The sun rises<br /> +On whatever the earth happens to be.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> And there are indeterminate moments<br /> +Before it rises,<br /> +Like this, [<i>With a backward gesture.</i>]<br /> +Before one can tell<br /> +What the bottle is going to be—<br /> +Porcelain, Venetian glass,<br /> +Egyptian ...<br /> +Well, there are moments<br /> +When the candle, sputtering up,<br /> +Finds itself in seclusion, [<i>He raises the candle in the air.</i>]<br /> +And shines, perhaps, for the beauty of shining.<br /> +That is the seclusion of sunrise<br /> +Before it shines on any house. [<i>Replacing the candle.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese</span> [<i>wagging his head</i>]. As abstract as porcelain.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese.</span> Such seclusion knows beauty<br /> +As the court knew it.<br /> +The court woke<br /> +In its windless pavilions,<br /> +And gazed on chosen mornings,<br /> +As it gazed<br /> +On chosen porcelain.<br /> +What the court saw was always of the same color,<br /> +And well shaped,<br /> +And seen in a clear light. [<i>He points to the candle.</i>]<br /> +It never woke to see,<br /> +And never knew,<br /> +The flawed jars,<br /> +The weak colors,<br /> +The contorted glass.<br /> +It never knew<br /> +The poor lights. [<i>He opens his book significantly.</i>]<br /> +When the court knew beauty only,<br /> +And in seclusion,<br /> +It had neither love nor wisdom.<br /> +These came through poverty<br /> +And wretchedness,<br /> +Through suffering and pity. [<i>He pauses.</i>]<br /> +It is the invasion of humanity<br /> +That counts.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The limb of the tree creaks. The +First Chinese turns, for a moment, +in the direction of the sound.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese</span> [<i>thoughtfully</i>]. The light of the most tranquil candle<br /> +Would shudder on a bloody salver.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese</span> [<i>with a gesture of disregard</i>]. It is the invasion<br /> +That counts.<br /> +If it be supposed that we are three figures<br /> +Painted on porcelain<br /> +As we sit here,<br /> +That we are painted on this very bottle,<br /> +The hermit of the place,<br /> +Holding this candle to us,<br /> +Would wonder;<br /> +But if it be supposed<br /> +That we are painted as warriors,<br /> +The candle would tremble in his hands;<br /> +Or if it be supposed, for example,<br /> +That we are painted as three dead men,<br /> +He could not see the steadiest light,<br /> +For sorrow.<br /> +It would be true<br /> +If an emperor himself<br /> +Held the candle.<br /> +He would forget the porcelain<br /> +For the figures painted on it.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese</span> [<i>shrugging his shoulders</i>]. Let the candle shine for the beauty of shining.<br /> +I dislike the invasion<br /> +And long for the windless pavilions.<br /> +And yet it may be true<br /> +That nothing is beautiful<br /> +Except with reference to ourselves,<br /> +Nor ugly,<br /> +Nor high, [<i>Pointing to the sky.</i>]<br /> +Nor low. [<i>Pointing to the candle.</i>]<br /> +No: not even sunrise.<br /> +Can you play of this [<i>Mockingly to First Chinese.</i>]<br /> +For us? [<i>He stands up.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese</span> [<i>hesitatingly</i>]. I have a song<br /> +Called <i>Mistress and Maid</i>.<br /> +It is of no interest to hermits<br /> +Or emperors,<br /> +Yet it has a bearing;<br /> +For if we affect sunrise,<br /> +We affect all things.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> It is a pity it is of women.<br /> +Sing it.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He takes an instrument from one +of the baskets and hands it to the +First Chinese, who sings the following +song, accompanying himself, +somewhat tunelessly, on the instrument. +The Third Chinese takes +various things out of the basket for +tea. He arranges fruit. The First +Chinese watches him while he plays. +The Second Chinese gazes at the +ground. The sky shows the first +signs of morning.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese</span>. The mistress says, in a harsh voice,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"He will be thinking in strange countries</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of the white stones near my door,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And I—I am tired of him."</span><br /> +She says sharply, to her maid,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Sing to yourself no more."</span><br /> +<br /> +Then the maid says, to herself,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"He will be thinking in strange countries</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of the white stones near her door;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But it is me he will see</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">At the window, as before.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"He will be thinking in strange countries</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of the green gown I wore.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He was saying good-by to her."</span><br /> +The maid drops her eyes and says to her mistress,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"I shall sing to myself no more."</span></p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> That affects the white stones,<br /> +To be sure. [<i>They laugh.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese.</span> And it affects the green gown.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese.</span> Here comes our black man.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Second Negro returns, somewhat +agitated, with water but without +his lantern. He hands the jug +to the Third Chinese. The First +Chinese from time to time strikes +the instrument. The Third Chinese, +who faces the left, peers in +the direction from which the negro +has come.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> You have left your lantern behind you.<br /> +It shines, among the trees,<br /> +Like evening Venus in a cloud-top.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Second Negro grins but makes +no explanation. He seats himself +behind the Chinese to the right.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese.</span> Or like a ripe strawberry<br /> +Among its leaves. [<i>They laugh.</i>]<br /> +I heard to-night<br /> +That they are searching the hill<br /> +For an Italian.<br /> +He disappeared with his neighbor's daughter.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese</span> [<i>confidently</i>]. I am sure you heard<br /> +The first eloping footfall,<br /> +And the drum<br /> +Of pursuing feet.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese</span> [<i>amusedly</i>]. It was not an elopement.<br /> +The young gentleman was seen<br /> +To climb the hill,<br /> +In the manner of a tragedian<br /> +Who sweats.<br /> +Such things happen in the evening.<br /> +He was<br /> +<i>Un misérable</i>.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese.</span> Reach the lady quickly.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The First Chinese strikes the instrument +twice as a prelude to his narrative.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese.</span> There are as many points of view<br /> +From which to regard her<br /> +As there are sides to a round bottle.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pointing to the water bottle.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +She was represented to me<br /> +As beautiful.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They laugh. The First Chinese +strikes the instrument, and looks +at the Third Chinese, who yawns.</i>] +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chinese</span> [<i>reciting</i>]. She was as +beautiful as a porcelain water bottle. +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He strikes the instrument in an insinuating +manner.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese.</span> She was represented to me<br /> +As young.<br /> +Therefore my song should go<br /> +Of the color of blood.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He strikes the instrument. The +limb of the tree creaks. The First +Chinese notices it and puts his hand +on the knee of the Second Chinese, +who is seated between him and the +Third Chinese, to call attention to +the sound. They are all seated so +that they do not face the spot from +which the sound comes. A dark +object, hanging to the limb of the +tree, becomes a dim silhouette. +The sky grows constantly brighter. +No color is to be seen until the end +of the play.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese</span> [<i>to First Chinese</i>]. It is only a tree<br /> +Creaking in the night wind.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese</span> [<i>shrugging his shoulders</i>]. There would be no creaking<br /> +In the windless pavilions.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese</span> [<i>resuming</i>]. So far the lady of the present ballad<br /> +Would have been studied<br /> +By the hermit and his candle<br /> +With much philosophy;<br /> +And possibly the emperor would have cried,<br /> +"More light!"<br /> +But it is a way with ballads<br /> +That the more pleasing they are<br /> +The worse end they come to;<br /> +For here it was also represented<br /> +That the lady was poor—<br /> +The hermit's candle would have thrown<br /> +Alarming shadows,<br /> +And the emperor would have held<br /> +The porcelain in one hand ...<br /> +She was represented as clinging<br /> +To that sweaty tragedian,<br /> +And weeping up the hill.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese</span> [<i>with a grimace</i>]. It does not sound like an elopement.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese.</span> It is a doleful ballad,<br /> +Fit for keyholes.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> Shall we hear more?</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese.</span> Why not?</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> We came for isolation,<br /> +To rest in sunrise.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chinese</span> [<i>raising his book slightly</i>]. But this will be a part of sunrise,<br /> +And can you tell how it will end?—<br /> +Venetian,<br /> +Egyptian,<br /> +Contorted glass ...<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He turns toward the light in the sky +to the right, darkening the candle +with his hands.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +In the meantime, the candle shines, [<i>Indicating the sunrise.</i>]<br /> +As you say, [<i>To the Third Chinese.</i>]<br /> +For the beauty of shining.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chinese</span> [<i>sympathetically</i>]. Oh! it will end badly.<br /> +The lady's father<br /> +Came clapping behind them<br /> +To the foot of the hill.<br /> +He came crying,<br /> +"Anna, Anna, Anna!" [<i>Imitating.</i>]<br /> +He was alone without her,<br /> +Just as the young gentleman<br /> +Was alone without her:<br /> +Three beggars, you see,<br /> +Begging for one another.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The First Negro, carrying two lanterns, +approaches cautiously +through the trees. At the sight of +him, the Second Negro, seated near +the Chinese, jumps to his feet. +The Chinese get up in alarm. The +Second Negro goes around the +Chinese toward the First Negro. +All see the body of a man hanging +to the limb of the tree. They +gather together, keeping their eyes +fixed on it. The First Negro comes +out of the trees and places the lanterns +on the ground. He looks at +the group and then at the body.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese</span> [<i>moved</i>]. The young gentleman of the ballad.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese</span> [<i>slowly, approaching the body</i>]. And the end of the ballad.<br /> +Take away the bushes.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The negroes commence to pull away +the bushes.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese.</span> Death, the hermit,<br /> +Needs no candle<br /> +In his hermitage.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Second Chinese snuffs out the +candle. The First Chinese puts +out the lanterns. As the bushes +are pulled away, the figure of a +girl, sitting half stupefied under +the tree, suddenly becomes apparent +to the Second Chinese and then +to the Third Chinese. They step +back. The negroes move to the +left. When the First Chinese sees +the girl, the instrument slips from +his hands and falls noisily to the +ground. The girl stirs.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese</span> [<i>to the girl</i>]. Is that you, Anna?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The girl starts. She raises her head, +looks around slowly, leaps to her +feet and screams.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese</span> [<i>gently</i>]. Is that you, Anna?<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She turns quickly toward the body, +looks at it fixedly and totters up +the stage.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Anna</span> [<i>bitterly</i>]. Go.<br /> +Tell my father:<br /> +He is dead.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Second and Third Chinese support +her. The First Negro whispers +to the First Chinese, then +takes the lanterns and goes through +the opening to the road, where he +disappears in the direction of the +valley.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">First Chinese</span> [<i>to Second Chinese</i>]. Bring up fresh water<br /> +From the spring.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Second Negro takes the jug and +enters the trees to the left. The +girl comes gradually to herself. +She looks at the Chinese and at the +sky. She turns her back toward +the body, shuddering, and does not +look at it again.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Anna.</span> It will soon be sunrise.</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Second Chinese</span>. One candle replaces<br /> +Another.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The First Chinese walks toward the +bushes to the right. He stands by +the roadside, as if to attract the +attention of any one passing.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Anna</span> [<i>simply</i>]. When he was in his fields,<br /> +I worked in ours—<br /> +Wore purple to see;<br /> +And when I was in his garden<br /> +I wore gold ear-rings.<br /> +Last evening I met him on the road.<br /> +He asked me to walk with him<br /> +To the top of the hill.<br /> +I felt the evil,<br /> +But he wanted nothing.<br /> +He hanged himself in front of me.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She looks for support. The Second +and Third Chinese help her toward +the road.—At the roadside, the +First Chinese takes the place of the +Third Chinese. The girl and the +two Chinese go through the bushes +and disappear down the road. The +stage is empty except for the Third +Chinese. He walks slowly across +the stage, pushing the instrument +out of his way with his foot. It +reverberates. He looks at the water +bottle.</i>]</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Third Chinese.</span> Of the color of blood ...<br /> +Seclusion of porcelain ...<br /> +Seclusion of sunrise ...<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He picks up the water bottle.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +The candle of the sun<br /> +Will shine soon<br /> +On this hermit earth. [<i>Indicating the bottle.</i>]<br /> +It will shine soon<br /> +Upon the trees,<br /> +And find a new thing [<i>Indicating the body.</i>]<br /> +Painted on this porcelain, [<i>Indicating the trees.</i>]<br /> +But not on this. [<i>Indicating the bottle.</i>]<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He places the bottle on the ground. +A narrow cloud over the valley becomes +red. He turns toward it, +then walks to the right. He finds +the book of the Second Chinese lying +on the ground, picks it up and +turns over the leaves.</i>]</p> + +<p class="noidt"> +Red is not only<br /> +The color of blood,<br /> +Or [<i>Indicating the body.</i>]<br /> +Of a man's eyes,<br /> +Or [<i>Pointedly.</i>]<br /> +Of a girl's.<br /> +And as the red of the sun<br /> +Is one thing to me<br /> +And one thing to another,<br /> +So it is the green of one tree [<i>Indicating.</i>]<br /> +And the green of another,<br /> +Which without it would all be black.<br /> +Sunrise is multiplied,<br /> +Like the earth on which it shines,<br /> +By the eyes that open on it,<br /> +Even dead eyes,<br /> +As red is multiplied by the leaves of trees.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Toward the end of this speech, the +Second Negro comes from the trees +to the left, without being seen. +The Third Chinese, whose back is +turned toward the negro, walks +through the bushes to the right and +disappears on the road. The negro +looks around at the object on the +stage. He sees the instrument, +seats himself before it and strikes +it several times, listening to the +sound. One or two birds twitter. +A voice, urging a horse, is heard at +a distance. There is the crack of +a whip. The negro stands up, +walks to the right and remains at +the side of the road.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">[<i>The Curtain Falls Slowly.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="SHAM" id="SHAM"></a>SHAM</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Social Satire</span><br /> + +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Frank G. Tompkins</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1920, by Stewart & Kidd Co.<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>THREE PEOPLE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Charles</span>, <i>the Householder</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Clara</span>, <i>his Wife</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Thief</span>.<br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="center">Originally produced by Sam Hume as the dedicatory piece of the new Arts & Crafts<br /> +Theater, Detroit, and by Maurice Browne of the Chicago Art Theater.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + + +<p>Reprinted from "The Stewart-Kidd Modern Plays," edited by Frank Shay. The +professional and amateur stage rights on this play are strictly reserved by the author. +Applications for permission to produce this play should be made to Mr. Frank Shay, +care Stewart & Kidd Co., Cincinnati, U. S. A.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h2>SHAM</h2> +<p class="alignleft">A Social Satire</p> +<p class="alignright">By Frank G. Tompkins</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene:</span> <i>A darkened room. After a +moment the door opens, admitting a +streak of light. A man peers in cautiously. +As soon as he is sure that the +room is unoccupied, he steps inside and +feels along the wall until he finds the +switch which floods the room with light. +He is dressed in impeccable taste—evidently +a man of culture. From time to +time he bites appreciatively on a ham +sandwich as he looks about him, apparently +viewing the room for the first +time. Nothing pleases him until a vase +over the mantel catches his eye. He +picks it up, looks at the bottom, puts it +down hard, and mutters, "Imitation." +Other articles receive the same disdainful +verdict. The whole room is beneath +his notice. He starts to sit down before +the fire and enjoy his sandwich. Suddenly +he pauses to listen, looks about +him hurriedly for some place to hide, +thinks better of it, and takes his stand +opposite the door, smiling pleasantly and +expectantly. The door opens and a +young woman enters with a man at her +heels. As she sees the thief she stifles +a scream and retreats, backing the man +out behind her. The thief smiles and +waits. Soon the door opens again, and +the man enters with the woman clinging +to him. They stand opposite the thief +and stare at him, not sure what they +ought to say or do.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>pleasantly</i>]. Good evening! +[<i>Pause.</i>] Good evening, good evening. +You surprised me. Can't say I expected +you home so soon. Was the play an +awful bore? [<i>Pause.</i>] We-e-ell, can't +one of you speak. I CAN carry on a +conversation alone, but the question-and-answer +method is usually preferred. If +one of you will ask me how I do, we +might get a step farther.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara</span> [<i>breathlessly</i>]. You—you—[<i>With +growing conviction.</i>] You're a +thief!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Exactly. And you, madame? +The mistress of the house, I presume. +Or are you another thief? The traditional +one that it takes to catch the +first?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> This—this is OUR house. +Charles, why don't you do something? +Don't stand there like a—Make him go +away! Tell him he mustn't take anything. +[<i>Advancing toward the thief and +speaking all in one sentence.</i>] What +have you taken? Give it to me instantly. +How dare you! Charles, take it away +from him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>apparently not afraid, a +little amused, but uncertain what to do, +finally adopting the bullying tone.</i>] I +say, old man, you'd better clear out. +We've come home. You know you can't—come +now, give it up. Be sensible. I +don't want to use force—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> I don't want you to.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> If you've got anything of +ours—We aren't helpless, you know. +[<i>He starts to draw something black and +shiny from his overcoat pocket. It +might be a pistol, but he does not reveal +its shape.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Let's see those glasses. Give +them here. [<i>Takes them from the uncertain +Charles.</i>] Perhaps they're better +than mine. Fine cases. [<i>Tries them.</i>] +Humph! Window glass! Take them +back. You're not armed, you know. I +threw your revolver down the cold-air +shaft. Never carry one myself—in +business hours. Yours was in the bottom +of your bureau drawer. Bad shape, +those bureau drawers were in. Nice and +neat on top; rat's nest below. Shows up +your character in great shape, old man. +Always tell your man by his bureau +drawers. Didn't it ever occur to you +that a thief might drop in on you some +night? What would he think of you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> I don't think—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> You should. I said to myself +when I opened that drawer: "They put +up a great surface, but they're shams. +Probably streak that runs through everything +they do." You ought to begin +with real neatness. This other sort of +thing is just a form of dishonesty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> You! Talking to US about +honesty—in our house!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Just the place for honesty. +Begin at home. Let's—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Charles, I won't stand this? +Grab hold of him. Search him. You +hold him. I'll telephone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> You can't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> You've cut the wires.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Didn't have to. Your telephone +service has been cut off by the +company. I found that out before I +came. I suspect you neglected the bill. +You ought not to, makes no end of trouble. +Inconvenienced me this evening. +Better get it put in right away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Charles, do I have to stand +here and be insulted?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Sit down. Won't you, please! +This is your last ham-sandwich, so I +can't offer you any, but there's plenty +of beer in the cellar, if you care for it. +I don't recommend it, but perhaps you're +used to it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara</span> [<i>almost crying</i>]. Charles, are +you going to let him preach to us all +night! I won't have it. Being lectured +by a thief!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> You can't stop a man's talking, +my dear, especially this sort of +man. Can't you see he's a born preacher? +Old man, while advice is going round, +let me tell you that you've missed your +calling. Why don't you go in for reform? +Ought to go big.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Oh, Charles! Don't talk to +him. You're a good deal bigger than +he is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Maybe I'll jiu-jitsu him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> He's insulting you now, +Charles. Please try. I'll hold his feet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> No doubt you would. But +that wouldn't stop my talking. You'd +be taking an unfair advantage, too; I +couldn't kick a lady, could I? Besides, +there are two of you. You leave it to +Charles and me. Let's have fair play, +at least.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Fair play? I'd like to know—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Ple-e-ase, don't screech! My +head aches and your voice pierces so. +Let's sit down quietly and discuss the +situation like well-bred people, and when +we've come to some understanding, I'll +go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Yes, after you've taken everything +in the house and criticized everything +else you can't take, our manners +and our morals.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> But he isn't taking anything +now, is he? Let the poor chap +criticize, can't you? I don't suppose he +often meets his—er—customers socially. +He's just dying for a good old +visit. Lonesome profession, isn't it, old +man?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> If you WON'T do anything, +I'll call the neighbors.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> No neighbors to call. Nearest +one a block away, and he isn't at +home. That comes of living in a fashionable +suburb. Don't believe you can +afford it, either. WON'T you sit down, +madame? I can't till you do. Well, then +I shall have to stand, and I've been on +my feet all day. It's hardly considerate +[<i>plaintively</i>]. I don't talk so well on +my feet, either. It will take me much +longer this way. [<i>Clara bounces into a +chair, meaningfully.</i>] Thank you, that's +better [<i>sighs with relief as he sinks into +the easy chair</i>]. I knew I could appeal +to your better nature. Have a cigarette? +[<i>Charles accepts one from his +beautiful case.</i>] And you, madame?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara</span> [<i>puts out her hand, but withdraws +it quickly</i>]. Thank you, I don't +care to smoke—with a thief.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Right. Better not smoke, anyway. +I'm so old-fashioned, I hate to see +women smoke. None of the women in +my family do it. Perhaps we're too conventional—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I don't know that I care to be +like the women of your family. I <i>will</i> +have one, if you please. No doubt you +get them from a man of taste.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Your next-door neighbor. This +is—was—his case. Exquisite taste. +Seen this case often, I suppose? [<i>He +eyes them closely.</i>] Great friends? Or +perhaps you don't move in the same circles. +[<i>Clara glares at him.</i>] Pardon +me. Tactless of me, but how could I +guess? Well, here's your chance to get +acquainted with his cigarettes. Will you +have one now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I don't receive stolen goods.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> That's a little hard on Charles, +isn't it? He seems to be enjoying his.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Bully cigarette. Hempsted's +a connoisseur. Truth is—we don't know +the Hempsteds. They've never called.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> That's right, Charles. Tell +the truth and shame [<i>with a jerk of his +head toward Clara</i>]—you know who.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Charles, there isn't any reason, +I'm sure—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Quietly, please. Remember +my head. I'm sorry, but I must decline +to discuss your social prospects with +you, and also your neighbors' shortcomings, +much as we should all enjoy it. +There isn't time for that. Let's get down +to business. The question we've got to +decide and decide very quickly is, What +would you like to have me take?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara</span> [<i>aghast</i>]. What would we—what +would we like to have you take? +Why—why—you can't take anything +now; we're here. Of all the nerve! +What would we like—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> It gains by repetition, doesn't +it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> You've got me, old man. +You'll have to come again. I may be +slow, but I don't for the moment see +the necessity for your taking anything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> I was afraid of this. I'll have +to begin farther back. Look here now, +just suppose I go away and don't take +anything [<i>with an air of triumph</i>]. How +would you like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Suits me to a "T." How +about you, my dear? Think you can be +firm and bear up under it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Don't be sarcastic. You're too +big. Only women and little men should +be sarcastic. Besides, it isn't fair to +me, when I'm trying to help you. Here +am I, trying to get you out of a mighty +ticklish situation, and you go and get +funny. It isn't right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Beg pardon, old man. Try +us in words of one syllable. You see this +is a new situation for us. But we're anxious +to learn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Listen, then. See if you can +follow this. Now there's nothing in your +house that I want; nothing that I could +for a moment contemplate keeping without +a good deal of pain to myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> We're trying to spare you. +But if you care to know, we had the +advice of Elsie de Wolfe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>wonderingly</i>]. Elsie de Wolfe? +Elsie, how could you! Now, if you had +asked me to guess, I should have said—the +Pullman Company. I shudder to +think of owning any of this bric-a-brac +myself. But it must be done. Here am +I offering to burden myself with something +I don't want, wouldn't keep for +worlds, and couldn't sell. [<i>Growing a +little oratorical.</i>] Why do I do this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Yes, why do you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Hush, Charles; it's a rhetorical +question; he wants to answer it himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> I do it to accommodate you. +Must I be even plainer? Imagine that +I go away, refusing to take anything in +spite of your protests. Imagine it's to-morrow. +The police and the reporters +have caught wind of the story. Something +has been taken from every house +in Sargent Road—except one. The nature +of the articles shows that the thief +is a man of rare discrimination. To be +quite frank—a connoisseur.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> A connoisseur of what? +Humph!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> And a connoisseur of such +judgment that to have him pass your +Rubens by is to cast doubt upon its +authenticity. I do not exaggerate. Let +me tell you that from the Hempsteds—[<i>Clara +leans forward, all interest.</i>]—but +that would take too long. [<i>She leans +back.</i>] The public immediately asks, +Why did the thief take nothing from +2819 Sargent Road? The answer is too +obvious: There is nothing worth taking +at 2819 Sargent Road.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>comprehendingly</i>]. Um-hu-m!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> The public laughs. Worse +still, the neighbors laugh. What becomes +of social pretensions after that? +It's a serious thing, laughter is. It puts +anybody's case out of court. And it's a +serious thing to have a thief pass you +by. People have been socially marooned +for less than that. Have I made myself +clear? Are you ready for the question? +What would you like to have me take?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Now, old man, I say that's +neat. Sure you aren't a lawyer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> I have studied the law—but +not from that side.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> It's all bosh. Why couldn't +we claim we'd lost something very valuable, +something we'd never had?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>solemnly</i>]. That's the most +shameless proposal I've ever heard. Yes, +you could <i>lie</i> about it. I can't conceal +from you what I think of your moral +standards.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> I can't imagine you concealing +anything unpleasant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> It's no worse than—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Your moral sense is blunted. +But I can't attend to that now. Think +of this: Suppose, as I said, I should take +nothing and you should publish that +bare-faced lie, and then I should get +caught. Would I shield you? Never. +Or suppose I shouldn't get caught. Has +no one entered your house since you +have been here? Doesn't your maid know +what you have? Can you trust her not +to talk? No, no, it isn't worth the risk. +It isn't even common sense, to say nothing +of the moral aspects of the case. +Why do people never stop to think of the +practical advantages of having things +stolen! Endless possibilities! Why, a +woman loses a $5 brooch and it's immediately +worth $15. The longer it stays +lost, the more diamonds it had in it, +until she prays God every night that it +won't be found. Look at the advertising +she gets out of it. And does she +learn anything from it? Never. Let a +harmless thief appear in her room and +she yells like a hyena instead of saying +to him, like a sensible woman: "Hands +up; I've got you right where I want you; +you take those imitation pearls off my +dresser and get to hell out of here. If +I ever see you or those pearls around +here again, I'll hand you over to the +police." That's what she ought to say. +It's the chance of her life. But unless +she's an actress, she misses it absolutely. +A thief doesn't expect gratitude, but it +seems to me he might at least expect understanding +and intelligent coöperation. +Here are you facing disgrace, and here +am I willing to save you. And what do +I get? Sarcasm, cheap sarcasm!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> I beg your pardon, old man. +I'm truly sorry. You're just too advanced +for us. Clara, there's an idea +in it. What do you think?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> It has its possibilities. Now if +he'll let me choose—Isn't there a joker +in it somewhere? Let me think. We +might let you have something. What +do you want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>indignantly</i>]. What do I +want? I—don't want—anything. Can't +you see that? The question is, What do +you want me to have? And please be a +little considerate. Don't ask me to take +the pianola or the ice-box. Can't you +make up your minds? Let me help you. +Haven't you got some old wedding gifts? +Everybody has. Regular white elephants, +yet you don't dare get rid of them for +fear the donors will come to see you and +miss them. A discriminating thief is a +godsend. All you have to do is write: +"Dear Maude and Fred: Last night +our house was broken into, and of course +the first thing that was taken was that +lovely Roycroft chair you gave us." Or +choose what you like. Here's opportunity +knocking at your door. Make it +something ugly as you please, but something +genuine. I hate sham.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Charles, it's our chance. +There's that lovely, hand-carved—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Stop! I saw it [<i>shuddering</i>]. +It has the marks of the machine all over +it. Not that. I can't take that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Beggars shouldn't be—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Where's my coat? That settles +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Oh, don't go! I didn't mean +it. Honestly I didn't. It just slipped +out. You mustn't leave us like this—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> I don't have to put up with +such—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Oh, please stay, and take +something! Haven't we anything you +want? Charles, hold him; don't let him +go. No, that won't do any good. Talk +to him—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Don't be so sensitive, old +man. She didn't mean it. You know +how those old sayings slip out—just say +themselves. She only called you a little +beggar anyway. You ought to hear what +she calls me sometimes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> I don't want to. I'm not her +husband. And I don't believe she does +it in the same way, either. But I'm not +going to be mean about this. I'll give +you another chance. Trot out your +curios.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> How about this? Old luster +set of Clara's grandmother's. I'm no +judge of such things myself, but if you +could use it, take it. Granddad gave it +to her when they were sweethearts, didn't +he, Clara?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> That! Old luster? That jug +won't be four years old its next birthday. +Don't lay such things to your +grandmother. Have some respect for +the dead. If you gave more than $3.98 +for it, they saw you coming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> You don't know anything +about it. You're just trying to humiliate +us because you know you have the +upper hand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> All right. Go ahead. Take +your own risks.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> There's this Sheffield tray?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Do you like Wedgewood?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Yes, where is it? [<i>Looks at +it.</i>] No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> This darling hawthorne vase—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Please take it away. It isn't +hawthorne.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> I suppose Cloisonné—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span>. If they were any of them +what you call them. But they aren't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Well, if you'd consider +burnt wood. That's a genuine burn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Nothing short of cremation +would do it justice. Of course I've got +to take one of them, if they're all you've +got. But honestly, there isn't one genuine +thing in this house, except Charles—and—and +the ham sandwich.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara</span> [<i>takes miniature from cabinet</i>]. +I wonder if you would treasure this as +I do. It's very dear to me. It's grandmother—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>suspiciously</i>]. Grandmother +again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> As a little girl. Painted on +ivory. See that quaint old coral necklace. +And those adorable yellow curls. +And the pink circle comb. Would you +like it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Trying to appeal to my sympathy. +I've a good notion to take it to +punish you. I wonder if it IS your +grandmother. There isn't the slightest +family resemblance. Look here!—it is!—it's +a copy of the Selby miniature! +Woman, do you know who that IS? +It's Harriet Beecher Stowe at twelve. +What have you done with my overcoat?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> I give up. Here it is. +Clara, that was too bad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I wanted to see if he'd know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> There's no use trying to +save us after this. We'll just have to +bear the disgrace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Charles, you're a trump! I'll +even take that old daub for YOU. Give +it to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Wait a minute. You won't +have to. Say, Clara, where is that old +picture of Cousin Paul? It's just as bad +as it pretends to be, if genuineness is +all you want.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>suspiciously</i>]. Who is Cousin +Paul? Don't try to ring in Daniel Webster +on me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Cousin of mine. Lives on +a farm near Madison, Wisconsin.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> You don't claim the picture +is by Sargent or Whistler?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> It couldn't be—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>ignoring her pointedly</i>]. Do +you, Charles?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Certainly not. It's a water +color of the purest water, and almost a +speaking likeness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> I'll take Cousin Paul. Probably +he has human interest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> That's the last thing I +should have thought of in connection +with Cousin Paul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Bring him, but wrapped, +please. My courage might fail me if I +saw him face to face.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>leaving room for picture</i>]. +Mine always does.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> While Charles is wrapping up +the picture, I want to know how you +got back so early. Your maid said you +were going to the Garrick.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> We told her so. But we went +to the moving pictures.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> You ought not to go to the +movies. It will destroy your literary +taste and weaken your minds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I don't care for them myself, +but Charles won't see anything else.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> You ought to make him. Men +only go to the theater anyway because +their wives take them. They'd rather +stay at home or play billiards. You +have a chance right there. Charles will +go where you take him. By and by he +will begin to like it. Now to-night there +was a Granville Barker show at the +Garrick, and you went to the movies to +see a woman whose idea of cuteness is to +act as if she had a case of arrested +mental development.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>entering, doing up picture</i>]. +Silly old films, anyway. But Clara will +go. Goes afternoons when I'm not here, +and then drags me off again in the +evening. Here's your picture, as soon +as I get it tied up. Can't tell you how +grateful we are. Shall we make it unanimous, +Clara?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I haven't the vote, you know. +Clumsy! give me the picture.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Don't try to thank me. If +you'll give up this shamming I'll feel +repaid for my time and trouble [<i>looking +at watch</i>]. By Jove! it's far too much +time. I must make tracks this minute. +I'll feel repaid if you'll take my advice +about the theater for one thing, and—why +don't you bundle all this imitation +junk together and sell it and get one +genuine good thing?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Clara leaves, apparently for more +string.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Who'd buy them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> There must be other people in +the world with taste as infallibly bad as +yours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Call that honest?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Certainly. I'm not telling you +to sell them as relics. You couldn't in +the first place, except to a home for the +aged and indigent blind. But I know a +man who needs them. They'd rejoice +his heart. They'd be things of beauty +to him. I wish I could help you pick +out something with your money. But I +don't dare risk seeing you again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara</span> [<i>reëntering, with the picture +tied</i>]. Why not? There's honor among +thieves.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> There <i>is</i>. If you were thieves, +I'd know just how far to trust you. +Now, I'd be willing to trust Charles as +man to man. Gentleman's agreement. +But [<i>looking at Clara</i>] I don't know—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Clara is just as honest as +we are—with her own class. But your +profession puts you outside the pale +with her; you're her natural enemy. You +haven't any rights. But you've been a +liberal education for us both.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> I've been liberal. You meet +me—listen!—there are footsteps on +the porch. I—I've waited too long. +Here I've stood talking—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Well, stop it now, can't you? +I don't see how you've ever got anywhere. +Hide!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> No, it can't be done. If you'll +play fair, I'm safe enough here in this +room, safer than anywhere else. Pretend +I'm a friend of yours. You will? +Gentleman's agreement? [<i>He shakes +hands with Charles.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Gentleman's agreement. My +word of honor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara</span> [<i>offers her hand as Charles +starts for the door</i>]. Gentleman's agreement, +but only in this. I haven't forgiven +you for what you've said. If I +ever get you in a tight place—look +out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>taking her hand</i>]. Don't tell +more than one necessary lie. It's so easy +to get started in that sort of thing. +Stick to it that I'm a friend of the family +and that I've been spending the evening. +God knows I have!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I'll try to stick to that. But +can't I improvise a little? It's such +fun!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Not a bit. Not one little +white lie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>entering with a young man +behind him</i>]. It's a man from the <i>News</i>. +He says he was out here on another +story and he's got a big scoop. There's +been some artistic burglary in the neighborhood +and he's run onto it. I told him +we hadn't lost anything and that we +don't want to get into the papers; but +he wants us to answer a few questions.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> Please do. I need some +stuff about the neighborhood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I don't know, Charles, but +that it's our duty. [<i>She smiles wickedly +at the thief.</i>] Something we say +may help catch the thieves. Perhaps we +owe it to law and order.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> That's right. Would you +object if I used your name?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Charles and the thief motion to +Clara to keep still, but throughout +the rest of the conversation she +disregards their frantic signals, +and sails serenely on.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I don't know that we should +mind if you mention us nicely. Will the +Hempsteds be in? I shan't mind it, if +they don't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> Good for you. Now, have +you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> We have missed something. +We haven't had time to look thoroughly, +but we do know that one of our pictures +is gone.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The men are motioning to her, but +she goes on sweetly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> A-a-ah! Valuable picture. +He hasn't taken anything that wasn't +best of its class. Remarkable chap. +Must be the same one that rifled the +Pierpont collection of illuminated manuscripts. +Culled the finest pieces without +a mistake.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>interested</i>]. He made one big +mistake. He—[<i>stops short</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> Know the Pierponts?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Er—ye-es. I've been in their +house. [<i>Retires from the conversation. +Clara smiles.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> Well, believe me, if he's +taken anything, your reputation as collectors +is made. Picture, eh? Old master, +I suppose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> A family portrait. We treasured +it for that. Associations, you +know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> Must have been valuable, +all right. Depend on him to know. He +doesn't run away with any junk. Who +was the artist?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> We don't know—definitely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> Never heard it attributed +to anybody?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> We don't care to make any +point of such things. But there have +been people who have thought—it was +not—a—a Gilbert Stuart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Clara!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I don't know much about such +things myself. But our friend [<i>nods toward +the thief</i>], Mr.—Mr. Hibbard—who +has some reputation as a collector, +has always said that it was—not. In +spite of that fact, he had offered to take +it off our hands.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Clara, you're going too +far—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> She's quite right. You're +wrong, Mr. Hibbard. You may be good, +but this fellow KNOWS. Too bad you +didn't take it while the taking was good. +This fellow never sells. Of course he +can't exhibit. Just loves beautiful +things. No, sir, it was real.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>between his teeth</i>]. It wasn't. +Of all the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. You take your beating +so ungracefully, Mr. Hibbard. The +case, you see, is all against you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Be careful. The picture may +be found at any minute. Don't go too +far.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I hardly think it will be found +unless the thief is caught. And I have +such perfect confidence in his good sense +that I don't expect that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> Lots of time for a getaway. +When was he here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> He was gone when we came +from the theater. But we must almost +have caught him. Some of our finest +things were gathered together here on +the table ready for his flight. How he +must have hated to leave them, all the +miniatures and the cloisonné. I almost +feel sorry for him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> I do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> You see, we went to the Garrick +for the Granville Barker show. Mr. +Hibbard took us [<i>she smiles sweetly at +him</i>]. I'm devoted to the best in drama +and I always insist that Charles and Mr. +Hibbard shall take me only to the finest +things. And now we come home to find +our—you're sure it was a Gilbert +Stuart?—gone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> I've got to be getting out of +here! Can't stay a minute longer! +Charles, I wish you luck in that reform +we were speaking of, but I haven't +much hope [<i>looking at Clara</i>]. There +is such a thing as total depravity. Oh, +here! [<i>taking package from under his +arm</i>]. What am I thinking of? I was +running away with your package [<i>hands +it to Clara</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara</span> [<i>refusing it</i>]. Oh, but it's +yours, Mr. Hibbard. I couldn't think +of taking it. Really, you must keep it +to remember us by. Put it among your +art treasures at home, next to your lovely +illuminated manuscripts, and whenever +you look at it remember us and this delightful +evening, from which we are all +taking away so much. You must keep +it—that's part of the bargain, isn't it? +And now are we even?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Even? Far from it. I yield +you your woman's right to the last word, +and I admit it's the best [<i>stoops and +kisses her hand</i>]. Good-night, Clara. +[<i>To the reporter.</i>] May I give you a +lift back to town?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter.</span> Thanks. As far as the +Hempsteds' corner. Good-night. Thank +you for this much help. [<i>Exeunt.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Thank goodness, they've +gone. What relief! That pace is too +rapid for me. You had me running +round in circles. But he's got the picture, +and we're safe at last. But don't +you think, Clara, you took some awful +risks. You goaded him pretty far.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> I had to. Did you hear him +call me Clara?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>chuckling</i>]. He doesn't +know our name. But he wasn't a bad +fellow, was he? I couldn't help liking +him in spite of his impudence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> You showed it. You took +sides with him against me all the time +the reporter was here. But, you know, +he was right about our house. It's all +wrong. The Hempsteds would see it +in a minute. I believe I'll clear out this +cabinet and have this room done over +in mahogany.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles.</span> Too expensive this winter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Birch will do just as well—nobody +knows the difference. Listen! is +he coming back?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Reporter</span> [<i>in the doorway</i>]. Excuse +me—listen. Mr. Hibbard says you've +given him the wrong package. He says +you need this to go with the picture of +your grandmother. And he says, sir, +that you need to get wise to your own +family. He's waiting for me. Good-night! +[<i>Exit.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. Get wise to my +own family? He may know all about +art [<i>undoing the picture</i>], but I guess I +know my own relatives. [<i>Holds up picture +so that audience can see it, but he +can't.</i>] And if that isn't a picture of +my own cousin Paul, I'll eat—[<i>sees +Clara laughing</i>]. What the devil! +[<i>Looks at picture, which represents +George Washington.</i>] Clara! you did +that! [<i>laughs uproariously</i>]. You little +cheat!</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MEDICINE_SHOW" id="THE_MEDICINE_SHOW"></a>THE MEDICINE SHOW</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Comedy</span><br /> + +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Stuart Walker</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1917, by Stewart & Kidd Company.<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Medicine Show</span> was first produced by Stuart Walker's Portmanteau Theatre, +with the following cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Lut'er</span></td><td align='left'><i>Williard Webster</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Giz</span></td><td align='left'><i>Edgar Stehli</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Dr. Stev'n Vandexter</span></td><td align='left'><i>Lew Medbury</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p> </p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Lut'er</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Giz</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Dr. Stev'n Vandexter</span>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Scene</span> <i>is on the south bank of the Ohio River. An old soap box, a log and a +large stone are visible. The river is supposed to flow between the stage and the +audience. In the background, at the lop of the "grade," is the village of Rock +Springs.</i></p> + + + +<p> </p> + + +<p>Reprinted from "Portmanteau Plays" published by Stewart & Kidd Company, +Cincinnati, Ohio, by special permission of Stewart and Kidd. The professional and +amateur stage rights are strictly reserved by Mr. Stuart Walker.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h2>THE MEDICINE SHOW</h2> +<p class="alignleft">A Comedy</p> +<p class="alignright">By Stuart Walker</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Prologue</span>: <i>This is only a quarter of +a play. Its faults are many. Come, +glory in them with us.</i></p> + +<p><i>You are a little boy once more lying on +your rounded belly on the cool, damp +sands beside the beautiful river. You +are still young enough to see the wonder +that everywhere touches the world; and +men are in the world—all sorts of men. +But you can still look upon them with +the shining eyes of brotherhood. You +can still feel the mystery that is true understanding. +Everywhere about you men +and things are reaching for the infinite, +each in his own way, be it big or little, +be it the moon or a medicine show; and +you yourself are not yet decided whether +to reach for the stars or go a-fishing. +Brother!</i></p> + +<p><i>Lut'er enters or rather oozes in.</i></p> + +<p><i>He is a tall, expressionless, uncoördinated +person who might be called filthy +were it not for the fact that the dirt on +his skin and on his clothes seems an inherent +part of him. He has a wan smile +that—what there is of it—is not displeasing. +Strangely enough, his face is +always smooth-shaven. He carries a +fishing pole made from a tree twig and +equipped with a thread knotted frequently +and a bent pin for hook.</i></p> + +<p><i>Lut'er looks about and his eyes light +on the stone. He attempts to move it +with his bare foot to the water's edge, +but it is too heavy for him. Next he looks +at the log, raises his foot to move it, +then abandons the attempt because his +eyes rest on the lighter soap box. This +he puts in position, never deigning to +touch it with his hands. Then he sits +calmly and drawing a fishing worm from +the pocket of his shirt fastens it on the +pin-hook and casts his line into the water. +Thereafter he takes no apparent interest +in fishing.</i></p> + +<p><i>After a moment Giz enters.</i></p> + +<p><i>Giz is somewhat dirtier than Lut'er +but the dirt is less assimilated and consequently +less to be condoned. Besides +he is fuzzy with a beard of long standing. +He may have been shaved some Saturdays +ago—but quite ago.</i></p> + +<p><i>Giz doesn't speak to Lut'er and Lut'er +doesn't speak to Giz, but Lut'er suggests +life by continued chewing and he acknowledges +the proximity of Giz by spitting +and wiping his lips with his hand. Giz +having tried the log and the rock finally +chooses the rock and acknowledges +Lut'er's salivary greeting by spitting also; +but he wipes his mouth on his sleeve.</i></p> + +<p><i>After a moment he reaches forward +with his bare foot and touches the water.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> 'Tis warm as fresh milk.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lut'er, not to be wholly unresponsive, +spits. A fresh silence falls +upon them.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> 'S Hattie Brown came in?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lut'er spits and almost shakes his +head negatively.</i>]</p> + +<p>She's a mighty good little steam-boat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> She's water-logged.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> She ain't water-logged.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> She is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> She ain't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> She is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> She ain't.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The argument dies of malnutrition. +After a moment of silence Giz +speaks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> 'S river raisin'?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Nup!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Fallin'?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Nup!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Standin' still?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Uh!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The conversation might continue if +Giz did not catch a mosquito on +his leg.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Gosh! A galler-nipper at noonday!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lut'er scratches back of his ear +warily.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> An' look at the whelp!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Giz scratches actively, examines the +wound and anoints it with tobacco +juice.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>The Play would be ended at this moment +for lack of varied action if +Dr. Stev'n Vandexter did not enter.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>He is an eager, healthy-looking man +with a whitish beard that long +washing in Ohio River water has +turned yellowish. He wears spectacles +and his clothes and general +appearance are somewhat an improvement +upon Lut'er and Giz. +Furthermore he wears what were +shoes and both supports of his suspenders +are fairly intact. He is +whittling a piece of white pine with +a large jack-knife.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>Seeing Lut'er and Giz he draws the +log between them and sits.</i></p> + +<p class="salute"><i>After a moment in which three cuds +are audibly chewed, Dr. Stev'n +speaks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> What gits me is how they +done it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>For the first time Lut'er turns his +head as admission that some one +is there. Giz looks up with a dawn +of interest under his beard. +Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> I traded a two-pound catfish +for a box of that salve: an' I don't see +how they done it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lut'er having turned his head keeps +it turned. Evidently Dr. Stev'n +always has something of interest to +say.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Kickapoo?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Ye'. Kickapoo Indian Salve. +I don't think no Indian never seen it.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He looks at Giz for acquiescence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Y'ain't never sure about nothin' +these days.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Dr. Stev'n looks at Lut'er for acquiescence +also, and Lut'er approving +turns his head forward and +spits assent.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> I smelled it an' it smelled +like ker'sene. I biled it an' it biled over +an' burnt up like ker'sene.... I don't +think it was nothin' but ker'sene an' lard.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Reckon 't wuz common ker'sene?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> I don't know whether 't wuz +common ker'sene but I know 't wuz ker'sene.... +An' I bet ker'sene'll cure heaps +o' troubles if yer use it right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> That air doctor said the salve +ud cure most anything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er</span> [<i>as though a voice from the +grave, long forgotten</i>]. Which doctor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> The man doctor—him with the +p'inted musstash.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> I seen him take a egg outer +Jimmie Weldon's ear—an' Jimmie swore +he didn't have no hen in his head.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> But the lady doctor said it +warn't so good—effie-cacious she called +it—withouten you took two bottles o' +the buildin' up medicine, a box o' the +liver pills an' a bottle o' the hair fluid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> She knowed a lot. She told me +just how I felt an' she said she hated to +trouble me but I had a internal ailment. +An' she said I needed all their medicine +jus' like the Indians used it. But I told +her I didn't have no money so she said +maybe the box o' liver pills would do if +I'd bring 'em some corn for their supper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Y' got the liver pills?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Uh-huh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Took any?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Nup, I'm savin' 'em.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> What fur?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Till I'm feelin' sicker'n I am now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Where are they?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> In m' pocket.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They chew in silence for a minute.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Yes, sir! It smelled like ker'sene +ter me—and ker'sene 't wuz.... +Ker'sene'll cure heaps o' things if you +use it right.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He punctuates his talk with covert +glances at Giz. His thoughts are +on the pills.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Which pocket yer pills in, +Giz?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz</span> [<i>discouragingly</i>]. M' hip pocket.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Again they chew.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> The Family Medicine Book +where I learned ter be a doctor said +camphor an' ker'sene an' lard rubbed on +flannel an' put on the chest 'ud cure tizic, +maybe. [<i>He looks at Giz.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> An' what ud cure tizic ought +ter cure anything, I think.... I'd 'a' +cured m' second wife if the winder hadn't +blowed out an' she got kivered with snow. +Atter that she jus' wheezed until she +couldn't wheeze no longer. An' so when +I went courtin' m' third wife, I took a +stitch in time an' told her about the +camphor an' ker'sene an' lard. [<i>Ruefully.</i>] +She's a tur'ble healthy woman. +[<i>His feelings and his curiosity having +overcome his tact, he blurts out.</i>] Giz, +why'n th' hell don't yer show us yer pills!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Well—if yer wanner see 'em—here +they air.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He takes the dirty, mashed box out +of his hip pocket and hands it to +the Doctor. The Doctor opens the +box and smells the pills.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Ker'sene.... Smell 'em, +Lut'er. [<i>He holds the box close to +Luter's nose.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er</span> [<i>with the least possible expenditure +of energy</i>]. Uh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Ker'sene!... Well, I guess +it's good for the liver, too.... Gimme +one, Giz?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> I ain't got so many I can be givin' +'em ter everybody.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Jus' one, Giz.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> She said I ought ter take 'em all +fer a cure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er</span>. What yer got, Giz? [<i>Calling +a man by name is a great effort for +Lut'er.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Mostly a tired feelin' an' sometimes +a crick in th' back. [<i>Lut'er displays +a sympathy undreamed of.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Gimme one, Giz.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Gosh! You want th' whole box, +don't yer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Keep yer pills. [<i>He spits.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> What's ailin' <i>you</i>, Lut'er?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Oh, a tired feelin'. [<i>There is a +long moment of suspended animation, but +the Doctor knows that the mills of the +gods grind slowly—and he waits for +Lut'er to continue.</i>] An' a crick in m' +back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> I'll cure yer, Lut'er. [<i>Lut'er +just looks.</i>] If that Kickapoo doctor +with the p'inted muss-tash kin cure yer, +I guess I can.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz</span> [<i>who has been thinking pretty +hard</i>]. Got any terbaccer, Doc?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Yep.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz</span>. Well, here's a pill fer a chaw. +[<i>He and the Doctor rise.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Giz takes a pill out of the box and +the Doctor takes his tobacco from +his pocket, reaches out his hand +for the pill and holds out the tobacco, +placing his thumb definitely +on the plug so that Giz can bite off +so much and no more. Giz bites +and the Doctor takes over the pill. +Lut'er not to be outdone takes a +battered plug of tobacco from his +pocket and bites of an unlimited +"chaw." The Doctor takes his +knife from his pocket and cuts the +pill, smelling it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Ker'sene! [<i>He tastes it.</i>] +Ker'sene! Now I been thinkin' things +over, Lut'er and Giz.... [<i>He tastes the +pill again.</i>] Ker'sene, sure! [<i>He sits +down on the log once more, spits carefully +and crosses his legs.</i>] I got a business +proposition to make. [<i>Silence. Lut'er +spits and crosses his legs, and Giz just +spits.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> There ain't enough home industry +here in Rock Springs. We got a +canning fact'ry and a stea'mill; but here +comes a medicine show from Ioway—a +Kickapoo Indian Medicine Show from +Ioway! Now—what we need in Rock +Springs is a medicine show! [<i>He waits +for the effect upon his audience.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. How yer goin' +ter git it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Well, here's my proposition. +Ain't we got as much horse sense as them +Ioway Indians?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> A damn sight more. [<i>That +is the evident answer to the Doctor, but +Lut'er develops a further idea.</i>] We got +the country from the Indians.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz</span> [<i>after a moment of accumulating +admiration</i>]. By Golly, Lut'er, yer +right.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Now, I got some medicine +science. I'd 'a' cured my second wife +if it hadn't been for that busted +winder.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Yeh, but what come o' yer first +wife?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> I could 'a' cured her, too, only +I hadn't found the Family Medicine Book +then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Well, what I wanter know is—what's +yer proposition.... I'm in a +hurry.... Here comes the Hattie +Brown.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Hattie Brown and the whistle +of the steam-mill indicate noon. +Lut'er takes in the line—removes +the fishing worm and puts it in his +pocket.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Well, I'll make the salve an' +do the talkin'; Giz'll sort o' whoop things +up a bit and Lut'er'll git cured.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> What'll I get cured of?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Oh, lumbago an' tired feelin' ... crick in the back and tizic.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> But who'll take a egg out o' +somebody's ear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Giz'll learn that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er</span> [<i>with a wan smile that memory +illuminates.</i>] An' who'll play the pianny?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Besteena, my daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Where we goin'?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> We'll go ter Lavanny first.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> How'll we git there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Walk—unless somebody +give us a tote.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> We kin go in my John-boat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er</span>. Who'll row? [<i>There is fear +in his voice.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> We'll take turns. [<i>Lut'er looks +with terror upon Giz.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> How fur is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Three an' a half mile.... +Will you go, Lut'er?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er</span> [<i>evidently thinking deeply</i>]. +How fur is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> Three an' a half mile.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Will yer go, Lut'er?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Uh-h.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Huh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> He said, uh-huh.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Lut'er chews in silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> I thought he said uh-uh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> He said uh-huh.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> He didn't say nothin' o' the +sort—he said uh-uh.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>They turn to Lut'er questioningly. +He is chewing intensely.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. How fur did +yer say it wuz?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Three an' a half mile.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Giz.</span> We'll each take a oar.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Silence. A stentorian voice is heard +calling "Stee'vun." The Doctor +rises, hastily.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> What d'yer say, Lut'er?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> It's three an' a half mile ter +Lavanny—an' three an' a half mile back.... +Pretty fur.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> We kin come back on the current.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Three an' a half mile air three +an' a half mile—current or no current.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Again the masterful female voice +calls "Stee'vun." There is no mistaking +its meaning. The Doctor +is torn between home and business. +Lut'er takes up his rod, rebaits the +hook with the fishing-worm from +his pocket and casts his line into +the river.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> I'll think it over ... but I +ain't givin' yuh no hope.... Three an' a +half mile one way air pretty fur ... but +two ways—it's turruble.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Doctor.</span> Come on, Giz. We'll talk it +over.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Doctor and Giz leave Lut'er to +his problem. Lut'er is undecided. +He is at a crisis in his life. He +spits thoughtfully and looks after +the retreating Doctor and Giz.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lut'er.</span> Three an' a half mile.... +[<i>He takes in his line and removes the +fishing-worm. He rises and looks again +after the Doctor and Giz. He hesitates.</i>] ... two ways.... [<i>He starts in the opposite +direction, as he justifies himself to +his inner self.</i>] Rock Springs is fur +enough fur me! [<i>When he disappears +the play is over.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="FOR_ALL_TIME" id="FOR_ALL_TIME"></a>FOR ALL TIME</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Rita Wellman</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1918, by Rita Wellman.<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>CHARACTERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> +<span class="smcap">Monsieur Robert</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Nanette</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Diane Bertral</span>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy</span>. +</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>France</i>, 1915.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="center">Dedicated to</p> + +<p class="center">MAURICE MAETERLINCK,</p> + +<p class="center"> +Whose essay in<br /> +"The Wrack of the Storm"<br /> +inspired this play.<br /> +</p> + + + + +<p> </p> + + +<p class="center">Application for the right of performing <span class="smcap">For All Time</span> must be made to Rita Wellman,<br /> +142 East 18th Street, New York.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h2>FOR ALL TIME</h2> +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Rita Wellman</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene</span>: <i>Sitting room in the house of +Madame le Bargy. Furnished in excellent +taste. Main entrance center, this +leads into a hall. Another entrance left, +back. French window right near back, +near this stands a large wing chair. +Couch left, well forward. Chairs near +this. Nanette comes from the entrance +left as Monsieur Robert comes into the +room from entrance center. Nanette is +a European old maid. Her dark eyes are +full of fire and her lips are bitter. She +speaks quickly and sharply and is always +on the defensive. Monsieur Robert is +well groomed, gentle, weak and likable. +Nanette is in deep mourning. Monsieur +Robert carries a small bunch of flowers +which he holds awkwardly and fussily as +if they embarrassed him.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Monsieur Robert....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert</span> [<i>coming forward</i>]. Nanette.... How are you, Nanette! You look +thinner.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Yes, it's the mourning. It's +unbecoming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> I shouldn't say that, Nanette. +How is Madame? Tell me. [<i>Nanette +gives an eloquent shrug.</i>] I haven't dared +to come before. You know how I hate +anything—anything like a scene.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>sitting left</i>]. Sit down, +Monsieur Robert. [<i>He sits in a chair +forward right.</i>] It was cowardly of you +not to come to see Madame.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Yes, I know. I am such a +coward. I cannot imagine how I came +to be such a coward, Nanette. I am +afraid to do anything any more. Yet my +mind keeps so active. How do you account +for that? It's my imagination. +It seems to run ahead and do things in +my place. In these times I am all over +the world at once. Nanette, will you believe +it, that I suffer actually with every +man in the trenches?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>contemptuously</i>]. Oh, I +daresay.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> You don't understand my +case. I am fifty-five. I have lived for +my work always. Why should I give it +up now that the world has gone mad? +Some one must stay behind and keep +things together. Some one must conduct +the dull march of everyday life. We +can't all be heroes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Your work!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Well, to be at the head of a +big charity. That is something. Countless +lives, numberless families are in my +care. I am sort of a father to them all, +Nanette.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> They could have a mother +as well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert</span> [<i>with pained eagerness</i>]. Do +you really think that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> I know it. There are many +women as well fitted for your post as +you—better fitted, in fact.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Oh, surely not. I have had +the experience of years. I love my work +so. I love my little people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> You have made a pleasure +out of what should be only your duty. +It isn't the poor who couldn't get along +without you, Monsieur Robert. It's you +who couldn't get along without the poor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Well, are we all to live merely +to do our duty? Is that what the Germans +are going to teach us—to be machines +like themselves?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> I suppose after all, you are +better off where you are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> How do you mean, Nanette?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> You are more of a woman +than a man after all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> You were always bitter +against me, Nanette.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> You were always superior +with me, because I was not beautiful like +Madame nor young like Maurice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> How did you say she was, +Nanette?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> You will find her greatly +changed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> I wanted to come to her as +soon as she came, from Aix les Bains. +When she went to recover the body.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>in a tone of deep feeling</i>]. +Yes, when we went hoping to find Maurice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert</span> [<i>softly</i>]. Tell me about his +death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> There were terrible days in +which we could learn nothing certain. +Several times they gave up hope. What +hope! It only made certainty more unbearable.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> They found him at last.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Yes, they found Maurice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> The French. That was good.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> No, the Germans.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> But Madame wrote me....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> That was a lie she told you. +The Germans found him. It was they +who had the privilege of putting him +away to his final rest. He had just won +his cross.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> He won the cross!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Yes, didn't you hear? That +very week. [<i>Almost overcome with emotion +she rises.</i>] We have it now. [<i>She +goes out back a moment and returns with +a small black box which she opens reverently.</i>] +Here is all that we have left of +Maurice. [<i>She hands him a picture post +card.</i>] This was taken only the day before.... +[<i>She hands him a letter.</i>] +This was the last letter ... you can see +the date.... He was never so confident +or full of life.... There is even a joke +about me. He was always making fun +of me. I don't know why. [<i>She hands +him a revolver.</i>] Here is his revolver. +[<i>She takes out the small box with the +cross of war and hesitates to give it to +him.</i>] This—this is what we have left +in place of Maurice. [<i>With a violent look +she opens the box and then suddenly +hands it to him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> You mustn't look on it in +that way, Nanette.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> I can't help it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert</span> [<i>reading</i>]. Maurice Paul le +Bargy. Little Maurice! He was never +meant for action either. Do you remember +how we used to tease him? He hated +to make any decision. He loved life's +dreams and nuances.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> He was nothing but a +dreamer. Madame and I were talking +only yesterday of his garden—did we +ever tell you of the garden he had when +he was a boy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert</span> [<i>handing her the box very carefully</i>]. +No. Tell me about the garden.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> He made himself a garden, +everything in it was arranged as if for +people only an inch high.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> But there are no such people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Of course not. That is +why every one made fun of him. But he +went on building it just the same. It +was scaled so that he was a giant in it. +There were little houses and little walks +and little boats sailing on lakes two feet +across. The geraniums were great trees, +his pet turtle was like a prehistoric monster, +and the hollyhocks pierced heaven +itself. When people told him that no one +could really enjoy such a garden he said +that the ants could, and they ought to appreciate +a little beauty because they were +always so busy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> That was like Maurice. How +vast the sky must have seemed to him +who loved minute shadowy things!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> He was always timid. +Everything violent frightened him. They +made him positively ill. And how he +dreaded the sea! Do you remember how +Madame tried to get him to swim?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> But he did learn to swim +finally.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Yes. But he told me one +day—"Nanette, when I hear the surf +my whole body shakes with fear. I feel +as if some terrible giant were calling me. +I hate the great sea."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> And he fell into the sea, didn't +he?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Two thousand feet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> What he must have endured +all alone!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> No one can know.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>After a pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> You say Madame has +changed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>looking toward left before +speaking</i>]. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Why do you look around like +that? Is there anything wrong?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Yes, there is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> What do you mean? Is +Madame very ill?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> There has been a change.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> What kind of a change?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Madame has changed. You +wouldn't know her, Monsieur Robert.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> You mean she has grown old? +Madame was always so beautiful. Has +her hair turned white?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> No, it isn't that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> You mean she is so stricken +she can't talk with me? She won't see +me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> She will see you. But for +your own peace of mind I advise you to +go away. I will tell her that you came. +That will be the best way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> A change, you say? You +mean she has altered so....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Yes. The truth is, it is +Madame's mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Her mind! No, no, don't tell +me that. That is the worst of all. Do +you mean that she is not clear in her +mind? She wouldn't know me? She +wouldn't be able to remember? Nanette, +I can't believe it. I can't believe that this +great and beautiful woman could give +in like that. Everywhere you see the +small ones breaking down. But the great +spirits like hers—oh they must keep up. +What else is there left for us if they +give up, too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> If you could hear her talk, +Monsieur Robert. The things she says.... +Sometimes I have to run away +and lock my door. I am afraid of +her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> I cannot stay now, Nanette. +I couldn't bear it. It was hard enough +for me before. What can I say to her, +Nanette, when my own grief finds no comfort? +Maurice was like my own son. +He was the fruit of my own soul. Into +him went all the spiritual love I had for +Madame, the love which for fourteen +years....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Monsieur Robert!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Oh, Nanette, forget your +piety for once and let me speak my heart +out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>with her strange, bitter coldness</i>]. +No, Monsieur Robert, I can never +forget what you call my—piety.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> No, you never can. That is +why I have never been able to talk to +you. Your heart is closed to all but +Maurice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Yes, that is true. My heart +has been like one of those vases of domestic +use which the ancients buried with +the dead in their tombs. All that was +warm and beautiful in me is closed away +forever with Maurice. Although I was +never more to him than a familiar object +which was a part of his everyday life. +Only his old nurse.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> How did he come to inspire +such love in every one who came near +him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Because he was young and +beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> But that is simply a temporary +state.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Maurice would always have +been young and beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Yes, he made you believe +that. When he talked with you you felt +glad and young as if you'd heard music.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> He loved life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Yet he was a coward.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> But he always dared to do +what he was afraid to do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Yes, that is where he was different +from me. That is what I have +never been able to do—to dare as far +as I could imagine.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes slowly toward the back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>rising</i>]. You are going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Yes. I can't see her. You +see the state I am in. What could I say +to her? I had better go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Yes, it is the best way for +you both.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Robert hesitates at the chair right. +He tentatively puts a hand out to +touch the arm of it, and regards +it curiously.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>unsteadily</i>]. What are you +doing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> It is strange.... [<i>Suddenly +he falls into the chair and buries his head +in the cushions, sobbing and calling.</i>] +Maurice! Maurice!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>hoarsely</i>]. Monsieur Robert. +[<i>As he does not answer—sharply +and frightened.</i>] Monsieur Robert!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert</span> [<i>rises slowly, a little dazed, but +calm</i>]. Yes, yes, I know. I am trying +your nerves. Forgive me. I am going +now, Nanette. Here—I was forgetting—The +flowers I brought for Madame. +You will give them to her, Nanette.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Monsieur Robert, why did +you act in that way just now? Why did +you go to that chair?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> I don't know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> When we came home from +Aix les Bains I thought Madame would +go wild. She tore her clothes. She went +striding about the house from room to +room calling at the top of her voice—Maurice, +Maurice. She went into all the +rooms, into his room, looking into the +closets—everywhere—Then she came +running down here. She went back into +the back sitting room where she is now—then +back into this room. At last she +came to that chair.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> To that chair, Nanette? Are +you sure?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> To that very chair. Then +she flung herself down into it and cried. +That was the first time she had cried. +I went away. When I came back she was +still there. And then this strange and +terrible change came over her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> How do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> A peculiar quiet, an awful +calm like death—only more terrible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Yes, that is how I felt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Just now in that chair?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Yes, just now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> A calm, you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> Yes, like a hand pressed over +my heart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> But you seemed happier, +Monsieur Robert.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert.</span> I am happier, Nanette. [<i>He +goes toward back.</i>] I am going.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes out at center. Nanette +watches him dumbfounded. She +then gets the black box, carefully +puts away her keepsakes, and takes +the box out center, returning almost +at the same time that Diane +Bertral enters. Diane Bertral is +a beautiful woman of about twenty-eight. +She is nervous and ill at +ease, almost hysterical.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Does Madame le Bargy live +here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Yes, she does. Where can +Julie be? Did the maid let you in?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> No, the gentleman who just +went out ... he left the door open +for me. He evidently thought I was a +friend.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Did you want to see Madame +le Bargy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes, very much. Could I see +her, do you think?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> She is back in her own sitting +room. She isn't to be disturbed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> No, I suppose not. I shouldn't +have come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> If you wished to speak +with her about anything important I +can take the message.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>absently</i>]. No—no....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>regarding her suspiciously</i>]. +You know Madame le Bargy personally?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> No, no, I don't.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> I thought not.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sitting.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> May I sit down here for a moment? +I am so tired. I have walked +all the way, or rather I have run most +of it. I am all out of breath.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> If you will let me know +your message at once.... Otherwise +there is a seat down at the concierge. I +am very busy.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She goes toward back, with her lips +set.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>rising</i>]. The truth is.... I +can't tell you. It is something personal.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Something personal? Perhaps +you are mistaken in the Madame le +Bargy ... this is Madame Jeanne le +Bargy—the writer....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes, yes, I know. Mightn't I +speak with her for a moment?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> That is impossible. Since +the death of her son Madame le Bargy +has seen no one. No one at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> I might have known. Let me +think. My mind has been so confused +lately. I have been in such a state of +mind—I don't know what to do. I came +running here without any idea in my +head. I felt that I would be all right if +I could only see Madame le Bargy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>tersely</i>]. Perhaps Mademoiselle +had better see the doctor. At the +end of the street—number 27—you will +find an excellent physician.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> No physician on earth can +cure me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>after giving her an uneasy, +distrustful look</i>]. Well, since you cannot +see Madame le Bargy, and since you +have no message for her, I must ask you +please to excuse me. I am busy.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She stands waiting for Diane to go, +regarding her with undisguised hostility.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes, I will go. Why did I +ever come? It was a mad idea. I see +now that the things which seem so simple +and easy in the heat of your own +mind are the hardest of all to accomplish +when you meet the coldness of other +minds. Don't trouble about me. I am +going. I didn't come to harm you or +Madame in any way.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As she goes toward the door she +passes the chair at right and stops. +She goes toward it curiously, then +hopefully. Finally she flings herself +into it as Robert has done, and +sobs the name—"Maurice! Maurice!"</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>horrified</i>]. Mademoiselle!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Diane rises slowly, looking about +her in a dazed way. Then she suddenly +leaves the chair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>quietly</i>]. Forgive me. I will +go quietly now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>trembling</i>]. Mademoiselle. +Just now—you spoke a name....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Was it—Maurice?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>drawing away, her face +going black</i>]. I see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>going up to her curiously</i>]. +Who are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>drawing herself up, showing +the utmost contempt, hatred and fear of +Diane</i>]. Who are <i>you</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> My name is Diane Bertral.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Who <i>are</i> you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Just that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>as before</i>]. I see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>passionately</i>]. Madame, listen +to me....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Mademoiselle....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Mademoiselle—are you—Nanette?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>who seems to grow small +with dread</i>]. Those who know me well +call me that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> He often spoke of you. He +told me of you. You were his old nurse. +You were very dear to him. He always +said he was the only person to reach +your heart. [<i>Seizing Nanette's hand.</i>] +Nanette! Let me call you Nanette! Let +me touch you. Let me know that heart +which he could waken. I am so in need +of help. I am so in need of love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>drawing away</i>]. Mademoiselle!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> You have lost Maurice. You +know what I feel. Only you can know. +Help me. Let us help each other! We +can never be strangers for our hearts +bear the same sorrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> I don't understand. [<i>Growing +stern with the realization.</i>] Maurice! +Can it be that Maurice.... No, that is +impossible. He was not like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Nanette. I loved Maurice. +He loved me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>recoiling as if at a great obscenity</i>]. +Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Why do you speak like that? +What could there be in our love for each +other that was wrong? If you only knew +what we were to each other. If you only +knew, Nanette....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>hoarsely</i>]. Maurice.... I +can scarcely believe it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Let me talk to you about him. +Let me tell you about us. [<i>She sits on +the couch left, and feverishly begins to +talk.</i>] I am an actress. We met at a +supper party after the theater. You +know how shy Maurice was. He was +afraid of most people. I saw that. I +drew him to one side and got him to talk. +He was like a child when any one took a +real interest in him. He told me all +about himself at once, about you, and +about Madame le Bargy....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>passionately</i>]. Oh, keep +still!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>not noticing Nanette's hostility</i>]. +And about your house in the country, +and his garden and books and his +piano and all the things he loved. Then +he went on and told me about his work, +and how he wanted to be a great writer, +how he wanted to carry on what was best +in the French theater. He promised to +show me his play.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> His play!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> I told him to come to my house +and read it to me. He came the next +day. It was the twenty-first of March. +I remember the date perfectly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> We always left town on that +day, but we could not get Maurice to go, +so we had to leave him behind. Now I +understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes. He stayed to lunch with +me, and that afternoon I had him read his +play to me. Do you remember how beautiful +his voice was? It started in a sort +of sing song, like a child singing itself +to sleep, but as he went on his voice grew +deeper and stronger, all your senses +melted into his voice and he carried you +along as if on a great wave of emotion, +of ecstasy. Monsieur Laugier came +later. He was my manager then. I had +Maurice read the play to him. And later +some other people came, and every one +urged Monsieur Laugier to take the play. +I begged him to read it. I will never +forget it. It seemed to me the most important +thing in the world. Well, as you +know, Monsieur Laugier did produce +Maurice's play. And, although they +wouldn't let me be in it, I always considered +it my play, too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Then the story he told us +of his meeting with Monsieur Laugier—that +wasn't true?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> No. I invented that for him +to tell you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> He lied to us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> You would never have understood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Let me think—Maurice's +play was produced in September, 1913. +That is two years ago. Two years.... +Maurice lived here with us—day after +day—saying nothing—telling us nothing—We +never suspected. We never +dreamed that he would deceive us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> He did not deceive you. Not +even the closest hearts can reveal everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> But to continue to see you +... all that time! It is unthinkable.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> How could he explain what he +didn't understand himself? How could +he tell you of what was a mystery to him? +From the first moment we met we lived +and thought and felt as one being.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>vehemently</i>]. No! With us +he was like that! He was like that with +us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> With me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> To think of it! A common +actress!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>jumping up</i>]. How could you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> If I had known of this affair +I would have gone straight to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> And what could you have +done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>significantly</i>]. I could have +found a way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> You are a terrible old woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Am I terrible? I had to +fight my way when I was your age—because +I was not pretty. I had the +choice of being a free drudge or some +man's slave. So I chose to toil alone. In +order to get along alone I had to stifle +every drop of humanity in my being. I +had to bind up my human instincts as +they bind up the breasts of mothers who +flow too bounteously with life-blood long +after their babes have need of it. I had +to become sharp and bitter because sweetness +and softness get crushed under in +the battle to live. I learned to fight and +I forgot to feel. Then, when I was used +up and hard I met Madame le Bargy and +she took me into her house because I had +one valuable thing left. I had learned +that it is wiser to be honest. I was there +when Maurice was born.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> You were with him from the +very beginning then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> I was an old maid of thirty-five. +I had always lived alone. I hadn't +ever had a dog to care for. Then all at +once I had this baby, this little baby. I +had his baby cries to call me. I had his +tiny hands to kiss. I used to press my +lips against his throbbing head, against +the soft fissure where life and death meet, +and I would say to myself, "Here, with +one pressure I can crush away life. +Here, with one pressure is where immortal +life must have entered."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Then later—when he grew +up....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Day by day I watched over +him. Madame was busy. Even after her +husband died she was in the world. She +had her writing. She had her friends. +Her heart was fed in a hundred different +ways. While I—I had only Maurice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> I understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> I lived only for Maurice. +When I saw that it was raining I thought +of Maurice. When I saw that the sun +shone I thought of Maurice. If I was +awakened suddenly in the night his name +was on my lips. It seemed to me I could +not take a deep breath for fear of disturbing +his image against my heart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Nanette! Can you believe +that I have felt that way too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes, yes, I have. Nanette, +when he was little, when he was a boy +growing up, did you never think of me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Of you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes, of the woman who would +eventually take your place. Didn't you +think of what she would be like, didn't +you plan her, didn't you pray that she +might be fine and great and beautiful? +I know you did. You must have! Well, +I tried to mold myself that way. I +tried to be worthy of every dream you +could have had for him, that his mother +could have had. That is how I loved +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Do you know what I thought +of when the idea of a woman for Maurice +came into my mind? I thought that +when she came—if she ever did—</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She pauses, looking ahead of her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>turning and looking at Diane +vindictively</i>]. I would kill her!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Nanette, I would have killed +myself rather than harm Maurice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'They'">Then</ins> why did you allow +him to throw himself away?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Throw himself away! Nanette, +I never knew what love was until +Maurice came. I was older than he. I +knew life better. I knew myself better. +I had struggled. You say that you had +to struggle because you weren't pretty. +I had to struggle because I was. You +can't know what it is to have every other +man you meet want to possess you, not +because he loves you, but because your +face suggests love to him and he hasn't +learned to know the difference. He finds +that out later, and then he reproaches +you for being beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> To think that Maurice +should fall so low!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> But I came to know things. I +was determined to find love. From man +to man, Nanette, I climbed up and up, +picking my way, falling and getting up +again. Only the truly educated can love. +I loved Maurice with all the wisdom I +had accumulated in years of suffering. +I gave him a perfect gift I had molded +in pain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> You! What had <i>you</i> to +give?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Then the war broke out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Yes, the war. Maurice was +one of the first. He made up his mind +at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> No, he did <i>not</i> make up his +mind at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>with a dreadful realization</i>]. +Then it was....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> I made up his mind for him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>vehemently</i>]. You did it! +It was you then! You sent Maurice to +war. After they excused him! After +they gave him a post at home! You sent +him to his death. Oh, I hated you before, +but now....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> His mother and you clung to +him. There was one excuse after the +other. You made him believe that he +was too delicate and sensitive. You used +all of your influence. Madame le Bargy +tried in every way to keep him. She +even testified officially that Maurice was +weak from birth and had dizzy spells +and an unaccountable fear of the sea. +And you testified under oath to a long +and dangerous illness he had had in +childhood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> I did that. And it was all +a lie.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> But all the time I was urging +him to go. We three women fought for +mastery. But you see who won! I did! +When he came to me at nights—in the +country—to my little house where we +had been so happy, there, there, in the +very room where we were nearest, then +I persuaded him. With my kisses, Nanette, +with my arms, with all the power +I had over him—then was when I thrust +him away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>triumphantly</i>]. You didn't +love him then!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>passionately</i>]. Could I love +Maurice and see him stay behind? Could +I really want him to save his body for +me when thousands were giving theirs +for France?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> For France.... But what +of us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Oh, the selfishness of those +who have never really loved!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Never loved! How can +you say that I have never loved?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> What can you know of my +loss? Your love was a habit. It was +the love you could have lavished on a +dog, or a horse or anything. But with +me—now that he is gone, I have lost +everything. I have no place to turn. I +haven't even memory, as you have. Your +love always took on the color of memory, +but mine was a living, flaming thing, +necessary as food and drink—as life itself!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>white with passion</i>]. But +my love was pure and yours was not. +[<i>She crosses the room.</i>] Good God, to +think that this thing should ever have +happened to us in this house! [<i>She +covers her face with her hands and runs +out back.</i>]</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>After a moment Madame le Bargy +enters, left. She is a handsome +woman of fifty or more. She +wears a long loose gown of white +silk. Her voice is perfectly modulated +and beautiful. There is +about her a gentleness and nobility +of perfect spiritual strength. She +looks at Diane curiously for a moment, +and then goes to her with +hand outstretched. During the +following the day is fast becoming +dark, and the sun's setting is seen +from the French window.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> I heard Nanette's +voice. She has a habit of keeping people +from me, although I am always glad to +see any one. May I know your name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> My name is Diane Bertral.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Diane Bertral. I +have never heard of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> No. I am an actress. But I +am not so very well known. Are you +Madame le Bargy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Yes. Won't you +sit down on the couch there? Why did +you come to see me, Mademoiselle?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She sits at right forward.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>embarrassed</i>]. I came.... I +don't know why I came, Madame le +Bargy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> You know some +one I know, perhaps—some friend of +us both.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes, that is it. Some one we +have both—lost.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy</span> [<i>with a quick look +at Diane</i>]. A <i>dear</i> friend?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Yes, a very dear friend.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Do you mean—Maurice?</p> + +<p>D<span class="smcap">iane.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> You knew him +well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> I loved him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Yes, I know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>astonished</i>]. You know!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Yes, Maurice has +told me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> No, no; that I am sure of. I +am sure he never has. He has never told +a soul. That was our agreement. We +were to keep it secret and sacred. Not +even you were to know, not as long as +we lived.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy</span> [<i>gently</i>]. But +after...?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>puzzled</i>]. After?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> How long did you +know Maurice?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> It would be two years this +March.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> You loved each +other all that time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> From the very first. We never +had any of those preliminaries in which +people have a chance to deceive each +other. We came together directly and +frankly and we never regretted it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Maurice was very +young.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> He was twenty-four. He was +eager for life. But you two had kept +him back. You had warmed his heart +with your kind of love until he had begun +to think it was the only love which +is worthy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> And you believe +that that isn't so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>simply</i>]. I believe that there +can be no flame like the love between +two young people who are one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy</span> [<i>going to Diane and +putting a hand on her shoulder</i>]. Poor +little woman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>astounded</i>]. Madame!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> You have been suffering +a great deal, Diane.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>bursting into wild weeping</i>]. +Oh, Madame, how good you are, how kind +you are! [<i>Grasping Madame's arms, she +trembles and sobs.</i>] Oh, how can I ever +tell you? Thank you, thank you! [<i>She +jumps up and paces about the room.</i>] +What am I going to do with myself? +How can I go on? I simply can't stand +it. If I had only died with Maurice! +If I could only have died in his place! +Oh, the cruelty of it! Why did they have +to pick out <i>my</i> lover? Surely there are +thousands of others. Why did it have +to be just mine? Mine—when I needed +him so! He might have been spared a +little longer, to give me time to get used +to it. That would have been better. But +now! Just as he was beginning to be of +service, too. Why he hadn't been there +a year yet. Not even a year! [<i>Beating +her hips violently.</i>] I could tear myself +to pieces. I hate myself for going on +living. I detest myself for being alive +when he is dead.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy</span> [<i>who has watched +Diane with infinite pity—softly</i>]. Diane, +do you think that I loved my son?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>in surprise</i>]. Why, yes, Madame, +I believe that you loved Maurice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> You think that my +love was not as great as yours?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> No, I don't think so. You had +had your life. Maurice and I were only +beginning ours.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Which do you +think is the greater love, Diane, the love +which endures for the moment, or the +love which endures for all time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>puzzled</i>]. For all time...?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> For all time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> We have the dear lips to kiss, +the dear head to caress, but when these +are gone there is only memory—and +that is torture.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> What if I should +tell you that Maurice still lives, Diane?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>rushing to her</i>]. Madame! +My God, is this true?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy</span> [<i>gently</i>]. Maurice +still lives, Diane. He talks with me every +day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>slowly</i>]. He talks with you....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy</span> [<i>holding her gaze</i>]. +Yes, Diane, he talks with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>the hope dies out of her face +and she turns away</i>]. I understand.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> You see, you did +not love Maurice.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> How can you tell me that—that +I didn't love him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Because you don't +continue to do so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> But how can I love what no +longer exists?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Oh, the selfishness +of those who have never really loved!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> That is what I said to Nanette—and +now you say the same thing +to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Diane, when I +knew for certain that Maurice had fallen +into the sea, that they had recovered his +body, that he was buried in German soil, +then I felt that I should never live another +moment. I felt as you have felt. +I wanted to die. I could not bear it. +I came here to this house. I was mad +for the sight of him, for the things that +he had touched and loved. I flew into +his room and dragged his clothes from +the pegs and crushed them to me, but +even the odor and touch of his personal +belongings was not enough to calm me. +I came into this room. Then I drew +near that chair. Something—I don't +know what—drove me to sit in it. I +flung myself into it as if it were into his +arms, and I wept out all my grief. Then, +all at once, a great calm came over me. +I looked upon my solemn black dress in +amazement and distaste. I looked into +my solemn and black heart with surprise +and shame. I felt that Maurice was <i>alive</i>, +that he was not <i>dead</i>, Diane. Then I remembered, +as I sat there, that it was in +this chair that he had sat when he came +to say good-by. There he had sat talking +happily and confidently—he had +seemed filled with radiance. And so he +has talked to me again and again. Every +day, at the same time, at twilight, I have +sat there and felt myself with Maurice. +We have talked together, just as we always +did. There is nothing weird or supernatural +about it, Diane. He is just as we +knew him, as we knew him in those swift, +strange moments when, in a flash, the +body seems to slip aside and spirit rushes +out to meet spirit. That is all. People +see me cheerful and smiling and they say +that I am mad. The few to whom I +have told of these talks pity me and are +sure that I have lost my reason. Perhaps, +in a worldly sense, I am mad. But +I know this, Diane, that Maurice lives as +usual, more truly, than he did six weeks +ago. I know that his youth has not been +sacrificed in vain. As the dead plant +enriches the soil from which it grew and +into which it finally falls, so will this +young soul in all its bloom enrich the life +out of which it sprang and from which +it can never entirely disappear.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>after a pause—rising</i>]. That +is beautiful, but I cannot do it. [<i>Stretching +out her arms.</i>] My arms are aching +with emptiness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> You see that you +did not really love, Diane.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Perhaps not. But it was the +greatest I was capable of.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She gets a scarf she has dropped +and goes toward the back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy</span> [<i>softly</i>]. This is the +time, Diane.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> When you talk with him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Diane goes slowly and sinks into the +chair wearily. Suddenly she flings +her arms out, crying "Maurice, +Maurice." Madame le Bargy rises +and goes to her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane.</span> Maurice, come back to me! +Dear God, give him back to me!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Nanette enters at back with her +black box. She sees Diane in the +chair. Suddenly she takes out the +revolver and shoots Diane.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> Maurice! Forgive me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy.</span> Nanette! Child! +My child! [<i>She rushes to take Diane in +her arms.</i>] Nanette, what have you done, +what have you done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette.</span> I have rid Maurice of a +stain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Diane</span> [<i>calling softly</i>]. Maurice, Maurice.... +Oh, I knew you couldn't stay +away. I knew you would come back to +me. Now we will never be separated. +We will be together like this for always—for +all time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Madame le Bargy</span> [<i>softly</i>]. For all +time, Diane.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nanette</span> [<i>kneeling beside Diane—crossing +herself</i>]. For all time.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_FINGER_OF_GOD" id="THE_FINGER_OF_GOD"></a>THE FINGER OF GOD</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> + +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Percival Wilde</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1915, by Percival Wilde.<br /> +<br /> +Professional stage and motion picture rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Finger of God</span> was produced by the Wisconsin Players at the Wisconsin +Little Theatre, <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'Wilwaukee'">Milwaukee</ins>, Wis., March 28, 1916, and subsequently, with the following +cast:</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Strickland</span></td><td align='left'><i>Frederick Irving Deakin</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Benson</span></td><td align='left'><i>Harry V. Meissner</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Girl</span></td><td align='left'><i>Marjorie Frances Hollis</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">Under the direction of <span class="smcap">Frederic Irving Deakin</span>.</p> + + + + +<p> </p> + + +<p>Reprinted from "Dawn, and Other One-Act Plays of Life To-day" by permission +of, and special arrangement with, Mr. Wilde. The acting rights in this play are +strictly reserved. Performances may be given by <i>amateurs</i> upon payment to the +author of a royalty of five dollars ($5.00) for each performance. Production by +professional actors, without the written consent of the author, is forbidden. Persons +who wish to produce this play should apply to Mr. Percival Wilde, in care of Walter +H. Baker & Co., 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>THE FINGER OF GOD</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Percival Wilde</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>The living room of Strickland's apartment. +At the rear, a doorway, heavily +curtained, leads into another room. At +the left of the doorway, a bay window, +also heavily curtained, is set into the diagonal +wall. Near the center, an ornate +writing desk, upon which is a telephone. +At the right, the main entrance. The +furnishings, in general, are luxurious and +costly.</i></p> + +<p><i>As the curtain rises Strickland, kneeling, +is burning papers in a grate near the +main door. Benson, his valet, is packing +a suitcase which lies open on the writing +desk. It is ten-thirty; a bitterly cold +night in winter.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Benson!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Close the window: it's +cold.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson</span> [<i>goes to the window</i>]. The +window <i>is</i> closed, sir. It's been closed all +evening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>shivers and buttons his +coat tightly</i>]. Benson.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Yes, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Don't forget a heavy +overcoat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> I've put it in already, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Plenty of fresh linen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Collars and ties?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> I've looked out for everything, +sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. You sent +off the trunks this afternoon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> You're sure they can't be +traced?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> I had one wagon take them +to a vacant lot, and another wagon take +them to the station.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Good!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> I checked them through to +Chicago. Here are the checks. [<i>He +hands them over.</i>] What train do we +take, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> <i>I</i> take the midnight. +You follow me some time next week. +We mustn't be seen leaving town together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> How will I find you in Chicago?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> You won't. You'll take +rooms somewheres, and I'll take rooms +somewheres else till it's all blown over. +When I want you I'll put an ad in the +"Tribune."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> You don't know when that +will be, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> As soon as I think it is +safe. It may be two weeks. It may be a +couple of months. But you will stay in +Chicago till you hear from me one way +or the other. You understand?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Have you plenty of +money?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Not enough to last a couple +of months.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>producing a large pocketbook</i>]. +How much do you want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Five or six hundred.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>takes out a few <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'bille'">bills</ins>. +Stops</i>]. Wait a minute! I left that +much in my bureau drawer.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes toward the door.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Mr. Strickland?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> It's the midnight train for +Chicago, isn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes into the next room.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson</span> [<i>waits an instant. Then he +lifts the telephone receiver, and speaks +very quietly</i>]. Hello. Murray Hill 3500.... +Hello. This Finley? This is Benson.... +He's going to take the midnight +train for Chicago. Pennsylvania. You +had better arrest him at the station. If +he once gets to Chicago you'll never find +him. And, Finley, you won't forget <i>me</i>, +will you?... I want five thousand dollars +for it. Yes, five thousand. That's +little enough. He's got almost three hundred +thousand on him, and you won't +turn in <i>all</i> of that to Headquarters. Yes, +it's cash. Large bills. [<i>Strickland's step +is heard.</i>] Midnight for Chicago.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Benson hangs up the receiver and is +busy with the suitcase as Strickland +enters.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Here's your money, Benson. +Count it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson</span> [<i>after counting</i>]. Six hundred +dollars, thank you, sir. [<i>He picks up the +closed suitcase.</i>] Shall I go now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> No. Wait a minute. +[<i>He goes to the telephone.</i>] Hello, Madison +Square 7900 ... Pennsylvania? I +want a stateroom for Chicago, midnight +train. Yes, to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Don't give your own name, +sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> No. The name is Stevens.... +Oh, you have one reserved in +that name already? Well, this is <i>Alfred</i> +Stevens.... You have it reserved in that +name? Then give me another stateroom.... +What? You haven't any other? +[<i>He pauses in an instant's thought. +Then, decisively</i>]: Never mind, then. +Good-by. [<i>He turns to Benson.</i>] Benson, +go right down to the Pennsylvania, +and get the stateroom that is reserved +for Alfred Stevens. You've got to get +there before he does. Wait for me at +the train gate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Don't waste any time. +I'll see you later.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benson.</span> Very well, sir.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He takes up the suitcase, and goes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>left alone, opens drawer +after drawer of the desk systematically, +dumping what few papers are still left +into the fire. Outside a wintry gale +whistles, and shakes the locked window. +Suddenly there is a knock at the door. +He pauses, very much startled. A little +wait, and then the knock, a single knock, +is repeated. He rises, goes to the door, +opens it.</i>] Who's there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Girl.</span> I, sir.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She enters. She is young: certainly +under thirty: perhaps under twenty-five: +possibly still younger. A +somewhat shabby boa of some dark +fur encircles her neck, and makes +her pallid face stand out with +startling distinctness from beneath +a mass of lustrous brown hair. +And as she steps over the threshold +she gives a little shiver of comfort, +for it is cold outside, and her thin +shoulders have been shielded from +the driving snow by a threadbare +coat. She enters the warm room +gracefully, and little rivulets of +melted ice trickle to the floor from +her inadequate clothing. Her lips +are blue. Her hands tremble in +their worn white gloves. A seat +before a blazing fire, or perhaps, a +sip of some strong cordial—this +is what she needs. But Strickland +has no time for such things. He +greets her with a volley of questions.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Who are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Who, don't you remember +me, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> I'm from the office, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> The office?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> <i>Your</i> office. I'm one of +your personal stenographers, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Oh. I suppose I didn't +recognize you on account of the hat. +What do you want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> There were some letters +which came late this afternoon—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>interrupting harshly</i>]. +And you're bothering me with them now? +[<i>He crosses to the door, and holds it +open.]</i> I've got no time. Good night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>timidly</i>]. I thought you'd +want to see these letters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Plenty of time to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> But you won't be here to-morrow, +will you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>starting violently</i>]. +Won't be here? What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> You're taking the train to +Chicago to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> How did you know—[<i>He +stops himself. Then, with forced +ease.</i>] Taking a train to Chicago? Of +course not! What put that in your head?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Why, you told me, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> <i>I</i> told you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> You said so this afternoon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>harshly</i>]. I didn't see +you this afternoon!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>without contradicting him</i>]. +No, sir? [<i>She produces a time-table.</i>] +Then I found this time-table.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She holds it out. He snatches it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Where did you find it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> On your desk, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> On my desk?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>suddenly and directly</i>]. +You're lying!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Why, Mr. Strickland!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> That time-table never +reached my desk! I lost it between the +railroad station and my office.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Did you, sir? But it's the +same time-table: you see, you checked +the midnight train. [<i>He looks at her +suspiciously.</i>] I reserved a stateroom +for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>astonished</i>]. You reserved +a stateroom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. I knew you'd forget +it. You have your head so full of +other things. So I telephoned as soon +as you left the office.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>biting his lip angrily</i>]. I +suppose you made the reservation in my +own name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> No, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>immensely surprised</i>]. +What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> I thought you'd prefer +some other name: you didn't want your +trip to be known.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> No, I didn't. [<i>A good +deal startled, he looks at her as if he +were about to ask, "How did you know +that?" She returns his gaze unflinchingly. +The question remains unasked. +But a sudden thought strikes him.</i>] What +name did you give?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Stevens, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>thunderstruck</i>]. Stevens?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Alfred Stevens.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>gasping</i>]. What made +you choose that name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> I don't know, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> You don't <i>know</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> No, sir. It was just the +first name that popped into my head. I +said "Stevens," and when the clerk asked +for the first name, I said "Alfred."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. Have +you ever <i>known</i> anybody of that name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> No, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>with curious insistence</i>]. +You are <i>sure</i> you never knew anybody +of that name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> How can I be sure? I may +have; I don't remember it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>abruptly</i>]. How old are +you? [<i>He gives her no time to answer.</i>] +You're not twenty, are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. Do you think +so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>continuing the current of +his thoughts</i>]. And I'm forty-seven. It +was more than twenty-five years ago.... +You couldn't have known.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. No, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>looking at her with something +of fear in his eye</i>]. What is your +name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Does it matter? You +didn't recognize my <i>face</i> a few minutes +ago; my <i>name</i> can't mean much to you. +I'm just one of the office force: I'm the +girl who answers when you push the +button three times. [<i>She opens a handbag.</i>] +These are the letters I brought +with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>not offering to take them</i>]. +What are they about?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>opening the first</i>]. This is +from a woman who wants to invest some +money.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> How much?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Only a thousand dollars.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Why didn't you turn it +over to the clerks?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> The savings of a lifetime, +she writes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> What of it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> She wrote that she had confidence +in you. She says that she wants +you to invest it for her yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> You shouldn't have bothered +me with that. [<i>He pauses.</i>] Did +she inclose the money?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Yes. A certified check.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She hands it over to him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>taking the check, and putting +it in his pocketbook</i>]. Write her—oh, +you know what to write: that I will +give the matter my personal attention.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Yes, sir. She says she +doesn't want a big return on her investment. +She wants something that will be +perfectly safe, and she knows you will +take care of her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Yes. Of course. What +else have you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> A dozen other letters like +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> All from old women?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>seriously</i>]. Some of them. +Here is one from a young man who has +saved a little money. He says that when +he gets a little more he's going to open a +store, and go into business for himself. +Here is another from a girl whose father +was an ironworker. He was killed accidentally, +and she wants you to invest the +insurance. Here is another from—but +they're all pretty much alike.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Why did you bring them +here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Every one of these letters +asks you to do the investing yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> And you're leaving town +to-night. Here are the checks. [<i>She +passes them over.</i>] Every one of them +is made out to you personally; not to the +firm.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. You +shouldn't have come here.... I haven't +time to bother with that sort of thing. +Every man who has five dollars to invest +asks the head of the firm to attend to it +himself. It means nothing. I get hundreds +of letters like those.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Still—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> You must do something to +deserve such letters or they wouldn't +keep on coming in. [<i>She smiles.</i>] It's +a wonderful thing to inspire such confidence +in people?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Do you think so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> It is more than wonderful! +It is magnificent! These people don't +know you from Adam. Not one in a +hundred has seen you: not one in a +thousand calls you by your first name. +But they've all heard of you: you're as +real to them as if you were a member of +their family. And what is even more +real than you is your reputation! Something +in which they rest their absolute +confidence: something in which they place +their implicit trust!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>slowly</i>]. So you think +there are few honest men?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> No: there are many of +them. But there is something about you +that is different: something in the tone +of your voice: something in the way you +shake hands: something in the look of +your eye, that is reassuring. There is +never a doubt—never a question about +you. Oh, it's splendid! Simply splendid! +[<i>She pauses.</i>] What a satisfaction it +must be to you to walk along the street +and know that every one you meet must +say to himself, "There goes an honest +man!" It's been such an inspiration to +me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> To <i>you</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Oh, I know that I'm just +one of the office force to you. You don't +even know my name. But you don't +imagine that any one can see you as I have +seen you, can work with you as I have +worked with you, without there being +<i>some</i> kind of an effect? You know, in +my own troubles—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>interrupting</i>]. So <i>you</i> +have troubles?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> You don't pay me a very +big salary, and there are others whom I +must help. But I'm not complaining. +[<i>She smiles.</i>] I—I used to be like the +other girls. I used to watch the clock. +I used to count the hours and the minutes +till the day's work was over. But +it's different now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>slowly</i>]. How—different?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> I thought it over, and I +made up my mind that it wasn't right to +count the minutes you worked for an +honest man. [<i>Strickland turns away.</i>] +And there is a new pleasure in my work: +I do my best—that's all I can do, but +<i>you</i> do your best, and it's the <i>least</i> I can +do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. Are you +sure—I do my best? Are you sure I +am an honest man?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Don't you know it yourself, +Mr. Strickland?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>after another pause</i>]. +You remember—a few minutes ago, you +spoke the name of Alfred Stevens?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Suppose I told you that +there once <i>was</i> an Alfred Stevens? [<i>The +girl does not answer.</i>] Suppose I told +you that Stevens, whom I knew, stole +money—stole it when there was no excuse +for it—when he didn't need it. His +people had plenty, and they gave him +plenty. But the chance came, and he +couldn't resist the temptation.... He +was eighteen years old then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>gently</i>]. Only a boy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Only a boy, yes, but he +had the dishonest streak in him! Other +boys passed by the same opportunity. +Stevens didn't even know what to do +with the money when he had stolen it. +They caught him in less than twenty-four +hours. It was almost funny.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> He was punished.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>nodding</i>]. He served a +year in jail. God! What a year! His +folks wouldn't do a thing for him: they +said such a thing had never happened in +the family. And they let him take the +consequences. [<i>He pauses.</i>] When he +got out—[<i>stopping to correct himself</i>]—when +he was <i>let</i> out, his family offered +him help. But he was too proud to accept +the help: it hadn't been offered when +he needed it most. He told his family +that he never wanted to see them again. +He changed his name so they couldn't +find him. He left his home town. He +came here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> And he has been honest +ever since!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Ever since: for twenty-eight +years! It was hard at times, terribly +hard! In the beginning, when he +had to go hungry and cold, when he saw +other men riding around in carriages, he +wondered if he hadn't made a mistake. +He had knocked about a good deal; he +had learnt a lot, and he wouldn't have +been caught so easily the second time. It +was <i>almost</i> worth taking the chance! It +was <i>almost</i> worth getting a foot of lead +pipe, and waiting in some dark street, +waiting, waiting for some sleek <i>honest</i> +man with his pockets full of money! It +would have been so simple! And he +knew <i>how</i>! I don't know why he didn't +do it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Tell me more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> He managed to live. It +wasn't pleasant living. But he stayed +alive! I don't like to think of what he +did to stay alive: it was humiliating; it +was shameful, because he hadn't been +brought up to do that kind of thing, but +it was honest. Honest, and when he +walked home from his work at six o'clock, +walked home to save the nickel, his betters +never crowded him because they didn't +want to soil their clothes with his <i>honest</i> +dirt! He had thought the year in jail +was terrible. The first year he was free +was worse. He had never been hungry +in jail.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Then his chance came.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Yes, it <i>was</i> a chance. +He found a purse in the gutter, and he +returned it to the owner before he had +made up his mind whether to keep it or +not. So they said he was honest! He +knew he wasn't! He knew that he had +returned it because there was so much +money in it that he was afraid to keep it, +but he never told them that. And when +the man who owned the purse gave him +a job, he worked—worked because he +was afraid not to work—worked so that +he wouldn't have any time to think, because +he knew that if he began to think, +he would begin to steal! Then they said +he was a hard worker, and they promoted +him: they made him manager. That gave +him more chances to steal, but there were +so many men watching him, so many men +anxious for him to make a slip so that +they might climb over him, that he didn't +dare.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He pauses.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> And then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> The rest was easy. Nothing +succeeds like a good reputation, and +he didn't steal because he knew they'd +catch him. [<i>He pauses again.</i>] But he +wasn't honest at bottom! The rotten +streak was still there! After twenty-eight +years things began to be bad. He +speculated: lost all the money he could +call his own, and he made up his mind to +take other money that <i>wasn't</i> his own, +all he could lay his hands on, and run off +with it! It was wrong! It was the work +of a lifetime gone to hell! But it was the +rottenness in him coming to the surface! +It was the thief he thought dead coming +to life again!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>after a pause</i>]. What a +pity!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> He had been honest so +long—he had made other people think +that he was honest so long, that he had +made <i>himself</i> think that he was honest!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl.</span> Was he wrong, Mr. Strickland?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>looking into her eyes; +very quietly</i>]. Stevens, please. [<i>There +is a long pause.</i>] I don't know what sent +you: who sent you: but you've come here +to-night as I am running away. You're +too late. You can't stop me. Not even +the finger of God Himself could stop +me! I've gone too far. [<i>He goes on +in a voice which is low, but terrible in its +earnestness.</i>] Here is money! [<i>He pulls +out his pocketbook.</i>] Hundreds of thousands +of it, not a cent of it mine! And +I'm stealing it, do you understand me? +<i>Stealing</i> it! To-morrow the firm will be +bankrupt, and there'll be a reward out +for me. [<i>He smiles grimly, and bows.</i>] +Here, if you please, is your honest man! +What have you to say to him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>very quietly</i>]. The man +who has been honest so long that he has +made <i>himself</i> think that he is honest can't +steal!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>hoarsely</i>]. You believe +<i>that</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>opening her bag again</i>]. I +was left a little money this week: only a +few hundred dollars, hardly enough to +bother you with. Will you take care of +it for me—Alfred Stevens?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland.</span> Good God!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>And utterly unnerved he collapses +to a chair. There is a long pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Girl</span> [<i>crossing slowly to the window, +and drawing aside the curtain</i>]. +Look! What a beautiful night! The +thousands of sleeping houses! The millions +of shining stars! And the lights +beneath! And in the distance, how the +stars and the lights meet! So that one +cannot say: "Here Gods ends; Here Man +begins."</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The telephone rings, harshly, and +shrilly. Strickland goes to the receiver.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Strickland</span> [<i>quietly</i>]. Yes?... You're +afraid I'm going to miss the train?... +Yes? Well, I'm <i>going</i> to miss the train!... +I'm going to stay and face the music! +[<i>Hysterically.</i>] I'm an honest man, d'ye +hear me? I'm an honest man. [<i>And +furiously, he pitches the telephone to the +floor, and stands panting, shivering, on +the spot. From the window a soft radiance +beckons, and trembling in every limb, +putting out his hands as if to ward off +some unseen obstacle, he moves there +slowly.</i>] Did you hear what I told him? +I'm going to make good. I'm going to +face the music! Because I'm an honest +man! An honest man!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He gasps, stops abruptly, and in a +sudden panic-stricken movement, +tears the curtains down. The window +is closed—has never been +opened—but the girl has vanished. +And as Strickland, burying his face +in his hands, drops to his knees in +awe,</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +<i>The Curtain Falls.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="NIGHT" id="NIGHT"></a>NIGHT</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> + +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Sholom Asch</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Translated by Jack Robbins.<br /> +Copyright, 1920, by Sholom Asch.<br /> + +<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Night</span> was originally produced by the East-West Players, at the Berkeley Theatre, +New York City, April 7, 1916, with the following cast:</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Outcast</span> [<i>prostitute</i>]</td><td align='left'><i>Miriam Reinhardt</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Drunkard</span></td><td align='left'><i>Mark Hoffman</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Beggar</span></td><td align='left'><i>Maxim Vodianoy</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Bastard</span></td><td align='left'><i>Jack Dickler</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Fool</span></td><td align='left'><i>Max Lieberman</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Thief</span></td><td align='left'><i>Gustav Blum</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Helenka</span></td><td align='left'><i>Elizabeth Meltzer</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Drunkard's Wife</span></td><td align='left'><i>Bryna Zaranov</i>.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">Produced under the direction of <span class="smcap">Gustav Blum</span>.</p> + + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">Applications for permission to produce <span class="smcap">Night</span> must be addressed to Mr. Sholom Asch,<br /> +3 Bank Street, New York.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>NIGHT</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By Sholom Asch</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<i>Night in a market place. A small +fire burns near a well. On a bench near +it sleeps the Beggar. The old Prostitute +is warming herself. There is the sound +of dogs barking in the distance. Vast +shadows move about the market-place. +The Drunkard emerges from the gloom +of the night.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Good evening, Madam +Prostitute. [<i>Listens to the dogs.</i>] Why +are the dogs whining like this to-night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> They must be seeing +things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Yes, your black soul. +Perhaps they think you a devil. That's +why they chase all over the butchers' +stalls. No wonder. They've reason to +be afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>in his sleep</i>]. He-he-he. Ha-ha-ha.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> A drunkard and a prostitute +are the same thing. None of us is +clean of sin.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>sleepily</i>]. Don't take me for +a "pal."</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Sleeps on.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Leave him alone. He +sings hymns the whole day long.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> Poverty is no sin.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Don't mix in. [<i>To the +Prostitute.</i>] What do dogs see at night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> They say that on the first +of May the Holy Mother walks through +the market place, and gathers all the +stray souls.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> What have the dogs got to +do with it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> They are people laden +with sins. People who died without the +Holy Sacrament, and who were buried +outside of the fence. At night they roam +about the market in the shape of dogs. +They run about in the stalls of the +butchers. The devil, too, stays there, but +when the first of May comes and the +prayers begin, the Holy Mother walks +through the market-place. The souls of +the damned cling to her dress, and she +takes them with her to Heaven.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Pause for a minute.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>turning in his sleep</i>]. Strong +vinegar bursts the cask. Her soul must +be black indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> It's awful to look into it. +You'll be among them yet....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> I'm not afraid of that. +The mercy of God is great. It will +reach even me. But all of you will be +among the dogs too. Those who live in +the street come back to the street after +death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> The street is the home of the +beggar. Poverty is no sin.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Stretches himself and sleeps on. +There is a pause. The Fool comes +out of the darkness. He is tall, +with a vacant, good-humored face, +dressed in a soldier's hat, with a +wooden toy-sword in his girdle. +He grins kindly.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Ah, good evening, Napoleon. +[<i>He salutes the Fool.</i>] Where do +you hail from?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fool</span> [<i>grins and chuckles</i>]. From Turkey. +I have driven out the Turk.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> And where is your army?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fool.</span> I have left it on the Vistula.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> And when will you drive +the Russians out of there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fool.</span> I have given my orders already.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Are they being carried +out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fool.</span> I only need to draw my sword.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Your sword?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fool.</span> Napoleon gave it to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> Leave him be. Every one +is crazy in his way. [<i>To the fool.</i>] You +are cold. Come to the fire. He wanders +about the hollows the whole night long.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fool</span> [<i>smiles</i>]. I've quartered all of +my soldiers, but I have no place for myself +to sleep in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> A fool, and yet he knows +what he says. [<i>Gives him bread.</i>] Do +you want to eat?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fool.</span> I get my dinner from the tables +of Kings.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>awaking</i>]. You've brought +the fool here too? He's got the whole +market place to be crazy in, and he comes +here, where honest people sleep.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Takes his stick and tries to reach +the Fool.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute</span> [<i>defending the Fool</i>]. +Leave him alone I tell you. Crazy though +he be, he still wants to be among people. +Like aches for like.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> Let him go to the graveyard, +and yell his craziness out among the +graves;—and not disturb honest men in +their sleep. The street is the beggar's +home, and I don't want to share it with +madmen. All that the people throw out +of their homes, wanders into the street.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He chases the Fool away, and lies +down.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Who made you boss here? +The street belongs to all. Lie down in +the city hall, in the mayor's bed, if you +want to have rest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> Keep still. He has a +right to the place. He's had it long +enough.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> What kind of a right? +Are you a newcomer? How long have +you been here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> All my life. I was born +in the street, there, behind the fence near +the church. My mother pointed out the +place to me. I have never known any +other home, but the street. In the daytime +it belongs to all. When people open +their shops, and peasants come in their +wagons, and trade begins, I feel a +stranger here, and I hide in the fields +near the cemetery. But when night +comes, and people retire into their holes, +then the street is mine. I know every +nook and corner of the market place. +It is my home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> You've said it well. In +that house there, I have a home, a bed, +and a wife. In the daytime I work there. +I sit among boots, and drive nails into +heels and soles. And I bear my wife's +nagging and cursing patiently.... But +when night comes I can't stand it any +longer. The house becomes too small for +me. Something draws me into the street.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> It is the curse of the street +that rests on you as it does on the howling +dogs. All of us are damned, and we +are punished here for our sins. And we +will not be delivered, till the Holy Mother +will come, and we will take hold of her +dress, and our souls will be freed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>in his sleep</i>]. He-he-he. Ha-ha-ha.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard</span> [<i>becomes sad, bows his +head</i>]. In the daytime I don't mind it. +Then I am like other people. I work +like all do. But when night comes....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> It's the curse of the street. +Don't worry. God will pity all of us. +His mercy is great.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The cry of a child comes from the +distance. It resembles the howling +of a dog.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> What's that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> That's Manka's bastard. +He strays the street. He wants to come +near the fire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Call him here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> Keep still. [<i>She points +to the Beggar.</i>] He will chase the boy +away. They believe the boy is born of +the Devil.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Who made him boss here? +All of us are children of the Devil. [<i>He +calls to the boy as one calls to a dog.</i>] +Come here, you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A dumb boy, all in rags, drags himself +near. He makes noises like a +little beast. He trembles with +cold. The Prostitute tries to quiet +him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> He lies the whole night +behind his mother's doorstep. She is +afraid of her husband. Sometimes she +gives him a piece of bread, when no one +looks. Thus he crawls like a worm in +the street—human flesh and blood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Let him come near the fire—so. +[<i>He pushes the boy nearer to the +fire.</i>] Give him a piece of bread. I'll +take care of any one who tries to hurt +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar</span> [<i>awaking</i>]. No. That's too +much. Who brought this here? You +know that the Devil is in him?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tries to chase the boy away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute</span> [<i>hiding the boy in her +shawl</i>]. Have pity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> You're the Devil's wife. +That's why you pity his child.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Tries to reach the boy.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard</span> [<i>tears the stick from the +Beggar's hand</i>]. We're all the children +of the Devil. You've no more on your +hide than he has.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> Don't you start anything. I +am a Christian, and believe in God. I've +no home. That's why I sleep on the +street. Every dog finds his hole. But +I won't live together with the Devil. And +I won't be the neighbor of a harlot either. +Nor was a drunkard ever a friend of +mine. [<i>He gathers his belongings.</i>] +What are you running after me for? +This whole street belongs to the Devil. +Why are you trying to stop me?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He tries to go away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute</span> [<i>detaining him</i>]. Don't +leave us. Let him only warm himself. +He'll go away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Beggar.</span> It does me little honor to be +with folk like you anyway.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He goes away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Why do you hold him +back? Let him go if he thinks us below +his dignity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> And do you really think +it an honor for one to remain with you? +That man is decent at least.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Ah, you grow pious as you +grow old.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> I have always wanted to +be in decent company.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>As the Beggar disappears, strange +figures begin to show themselves in +the darkness. Most of them are +half-naked. The Fool also comes +back. A dog comes wandering +into the crowd.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute</span> [<i>looking around in terror</i>]. +It's awful to be with so many sick people. +Not one amongst them who is of +sound mind. Not one who has a clean +conscience. The Beggar has gone +away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard</span> [<i>with fear</i>]. The dogs have +also come to the fire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> Even they are drawn to +people.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>There is a short pause. The Bastard +begins to wail.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> What's the trouble with +him? Take him away.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> That's the Devil in him +crying—see him gazing at something.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The day begins to grow gray in the +east. Strange, awful light falls +over all. Now one, now another +corner of the street appears and +disappears. All is covered with +shadows as in twilight.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> Praised be God. The +dawn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> How different the light is +to-day.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The dogs begin to howl.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> What are the dogs howling +about? Chase them away from the +fire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> They are looking somewheres. +They sniff at the air. They +must see something now.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>In the distance is heard the sound +of beating against tin plates. The +dogs howl with fright.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> Something is coming near +to us.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Fool laughs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> What is the Fool laughing +at? What is he gazing at? Chase +him away from the fire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> They all see more clearly +than we.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The dogs howl again, and gather in +one group. Footsteps approach.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard</span> [<i>frightened</i>]. Something is +coming near to us.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>A minute's pause. All waiting in +fear. The Thief appears. He carries +a woman on his shoulders. +The woman has a child in her arms. +They are followed by small, poorly +clad boys who hold trumpets and +kettles in their hands, and make as +much noise as they can.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>thunders</i>]. Fall on your knees. +Draw off your hats! Do you see who is +coming? The queen! The queen! [<i>All +grow pale, and move aside. The Thief +walks into their midst.</i>] Who is there? +Ah, the Fool. Well, how are your armies +getting along? Hold them in readiness. +Hold them in readiness. The Drunkard! +Ah, the right man for the game. [<i>He +bows.</i>] With awe do I kiss the little +hand of Madame Prostitute. [<i>To the +Bastard</i>]: And your little heir is here +also? [<i>To the woman</i>]: Take them with +you, oh, Queen. They too are dogs like +us, thrown into the street. Let them +come with us, We have room for many, +many.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Woman.</span> Take them with us, my man. +We will all go together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>letting the Woman down</i>]. Our +company is growing big. Come with +us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard</span> [<i>awaking from his torpor +and looking at the Thief</i>]. So you are +the thief they let out of prison not long +ago. And I was afraid of you a little +while ago. [<i>He spits.</i>] That's a fine +joke. Always at your play. Who's the +woman, and the children? Where did +you get them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Brother, this is not play. [<i>He +points to the Woman.</i>] She is a queen. +[<i>He points to the children.</i>] And they +are princes. Every one a prince. At +your knees before her! Take off your +hat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> I know this gentleman +quite well. He likes to joke.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Thief comes close to him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> To-night is the night when the +dogs are delivered. Look at her. [<i>He +points at the Woman.</i>] Look at us. We +were locked in, and we have come out. +We are all one family—dogs. We wander +on the street. Men have shut their +doors in our faces. Come, dogs. We will +unite to-day. Throw off your chains, and +shake yourself as if you were shaking +dust from your shoulders. You are men +after all. I have known you from childhood. +I knew your mother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard</span> [<i>wondering</i>]. I don't know +what you mean.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Look at yourself. What have +they made of you? You walk the street +all night like an outcast. Your children +are afraid of you. They hide when they +see you drunk on the street, and weep +for you. Are you to blame for it? You +were made one with a mass of flesh you +hate. You sit bent over your boots the +whole day long, and curses and blows +are hurled at your head. And when night +comes you crawl in the gutter, and you +will crawl there till you will be freed +from shame.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> What are you telling me +this for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> And are you to blame for this? +Have you had one minute of happiness +in your whole life? Who took care of +you? You were raised by your stepfather's +cane. Show me the scars on +your body. They beat you from childhood +on; first your stepfather, then your +"step-wife." No one ever spoke to you +as to a friend. No one ever comforted +you in your grief.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Drunkard falls to the ground +and weeps.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>to the Woman</i>]. And he is an +honest man. I know him. We went to +the same school. He had an honest +mother. She loved him only as a mother +can. [<i>Whispering to the Woman.</i>] She +brought him bread behind his stepfather's +back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard.</span> I will never drink again. +I give my word of honor.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He weeps.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Don't cry, brother. We are all +dogs of the street. But we unite to-day. +Come with us, come. We will care for +you. We will all be together. Take the +Prostitute, and come with us.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The old Prostitute rises and looks +amazed.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute.</span> Me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>taking her hand</i>]. We will not +turn you, nor avoid you. We know what +you are. You are not to blame. Who +brought you up? Who was your mother? +You were born in the street like a goat. +Every stone, every hole in the earth +caresses you like a mother. You were +thrown into the street at birth, and men +ran from you as from a leper. Any wonder +that this is what became of you? +You lay in the street like an old, dirty +rag.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute</span> [<i>half-crying</i>]. I am not +worthy of such comforting words by a +gentleman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> You are worthy. You are like +all of us. Your skin is dirty, but your +soul is clean. Wash your sins away, +throw the curse from off your shoulders, +and you will become a human being like +all of us. You too long for people. I +know you. You are good, you love humanity. +It is they who have cursed you +so. You were always a clean child. +Wait. Wait. [<i>He takes water from the +well, and pours it on her.</i>] I wash your +head, and you are a human being like +the rest of us. The curse is removed from +you. Look around yourself. Spring is +here. Its fragrance is everywhere. You +are a girl yet, a mere child. You know +no wickedness. You are in your father's +garden. Your mother sits near the window +and looks at you. You are walking +with your beloved.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He takes the Drunkard, puts him +side by side with the Prostitute, +joins their hands, and leads them +back and forth.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute</span> [<i>smiles</i>]. Don't talk to me +like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> You are being married now. +Virgins come and bring you your bridal +dress, your veil, your myrtle wreath. +You are chaste. They lead you to the +altar. Your mother lays her hand on +your head and blesses you. Sweet harp +music is heard. Your bridegroom takes +his place beside you.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Prostitute breaks out into +tears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard</span> [<i>excited</i>]. I will be together +with her. I will defend her. I +will not let them insult her. She is my +sister. I will work for her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> That's the way. The dogs +unite to-day. [<i>He takes the Bastard in +his arms and kisses him on the forehead.</i>] +And, he, too, is our child. All of us are +dogs of the street. All of us unite to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard</span> [<i>takes the boy from the +Thief</i>]. He is our child. He will be with +us. [<i>He takes the arm of the Prostitute.</i>] +Come, we will go together. I will +work for you. You will bring him up, +and he will be our child. [<i>He takes the +shawl from the Prostitute, and wraps +himself and the boy in it.</i>] What? You +do not hear? Listen. I mean it with my +whole heart.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>The Prostitute does not hear. She +looks with awe at the Woman.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> That's the way. That's the +way. That's the way. To-day we unite. +We go together. We will be one with the +dogs. [<i>He caresses all he finds on the +street.</i>] Blow the trumpets, boys. Beat +the drums. We choose a queen to-day. +[<i>To the Fool.</i>] The army waits for you, +with swords in their hands, with spears +ready. Do you see the cannon all +trained? All wait for your command. +Do you see the foe around you? [<i>He +points to the street with a broad majestic +gesture.</i>] Here stands the army.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fool</span> [<i>happily</i>]. Yes, yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief.</span> Give your order, Napoleon. +You are our general. Draw the sword, +and command!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fool</span> [<i>draws his wooden sword and +cries loudly as if he saw an army in the +market-place</i>]. Present arms!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>loudly</i>]. That's the way. The +dogs unite to-day. All will unite. We +choose a queen to-day. [<i>He points to +the Woman.</i>] She is worthy of wearing +the crown of the street. Come, queen. +Mount to your throne. [<i>He bends his +back.</i>] Boys, blow your trumpets. Beat +your drums. At your knees. All hats +off. The queen comes. The queen comes. +So will we go to our land.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>It is grown lighter. The face of +the Woman has grown young and +beautiful, and begins to look like +the face of the Holy Mother.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prostitute</span> [<i>who has looked at the +Woman with awe, recognizes her in the +gray light, as she sits on the Thief's +shoulders with the child in her arms. She +falls to her knees before her, and cries in +an unearthly voice</i>]. Oh, see, see. It is +the Holy Mother. Look at her—her +face. She has come from the church. +Oh, it is the holy picture before which +I always pray. I know her. Our Holy +Mother in her very flesh. [<i>She gives a +great cry, and falls prostrate before the +Woman.</i>] Oh, Mother, Mother, take me +under Thy protection. [<i>She falls prostrate, +unable to talk any more. The +others are infected with the spirit of her +words. They look with fear at the Woman's +face. They recognize the Madonna. +They bend half-ways on their knees. +The Thief, who has let her down from +his shoulders, takes off his hat and kneels +with the rest. All prostrate themselves. +There is the sound of a church-bell. It +is day. From the open window of a house +across the way, leans out the wife of the +Drunkard, and yells.</i>] Ah, ah, what are +you doing there. Come into the house. +There is work to be done.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Drunkard</span> [<i>roused from his ecstasy, +tears his hand away from that of the +Prostitute, and looks at the Woman with +the Thief.</i>] Ha-ha-ha. That's Helenka, +Andrey the Plasterer's wife. Ha-ha-ha. +He's cracked a good joke.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He runs away. The others awake +as if from sleep. The Prostitute +suddenly rises. Helenka tries to +escape from the Thief's hands.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helenka.</span> Why did you drag me into +the street?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>holding her hand</i>.] Come with +me. Remember what we said. Come to +another land with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Helenka</span> [<i>weeping</i>]. What does he +want with me? Why did he drag me into +the street? Come home, children.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>All run from him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thief</span> [<i>stands near the well, and thunders +after them</i>]. Dogs, where are you +running?... You dogs, you damned +dogs.... [<i>Townspeople come to the well +with pails, grumbling.</i>] Get out of the +way....</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="FORGOTTEN_SOULS" id="FORGOTTEN_SOULS"></a>FORGOTTEN SOULS</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">A Play</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By David Pinski</span><br /> + +<small><span class="smcap">Translated and Edited by Isaac Goldberg, Ph.D.</span></small></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1916, by L. E. Bassett.<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>PERSONS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' colspan='2'><span class="smcap">Fanny Segal</span> [<i>owner of a tailoring establishment</i>].</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Lizzie Ehrlich</span> [<i>a pianist</i>],</td><td align='left' rowspan='2'><big>}</big> [<i>Miss Segal's boarders</i>].</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>a teacher</i>],</td></tr> +</table></div> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Place</span>: <i>A Russian Provincial Town</i>.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Time</span>: <i>1916</i>.</p> + + + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">Reprinted from "Six Plays of the Yiddish Theatre" by permission of, and special<br /> +arrangements with, Dr. Isaac Goldberg and David Pinski.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2>FORGOTTEN SOULS</h2> + +<p class="alignleft">A Play</p> +<p class="alignright">By David Pinski</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<p> </p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Scene</span>: <i>Workroom at Fanny Segal's. +A door to the left of the spectator, another +in the back. A large table, covered +with various materials; at each side of +the table a sewing machine. On the wall +to the right, a three-panelled mirror; in +the corner, a large wardrobe. Not far +from the wardrobe two dressmaker's +forms, covered with cloaks. In the middle +a broad armchair. Evening.</i>]</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>runs out through the rear door +and soon returns with a letter in her +hand. She tears it nervously open and is +absorbed in reading. Suddenly she gives +a scream of delight</i>]. Oh!—Oh! [<i>Passes +her hand over her face and through her +hair, looks at the letter, cries out anew, +breathing with difficulty. Looks at the +letter once more, and exclaims heavily.</i>] +You! My love! My love! [<i>She is lost +for a moment in thought, then calls.</i>] +Lizzie! Lizzie! Lizzie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>enters, dressed up as if for a +ball, sticking a pin in her hat. Mocks +Fanny's tone.</i>] What's up? What's up? +What's up?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Read this! Quickly! It's +from Berman!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>takes the letter</i>]. Why see! +We've just been talking about him. And +they really accepted his drama?</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Looks at the letter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>looks on, too, in great excitement</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>as she reads</i>]. That's fine! +[<i>Turns over a page and continues reading.</i>] +Why! This is an actual proposal +<ins class="correction" title="original reads 'if'">of</ins> marriage, Fanny, my dear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>her breath short from delight</i>]. +Did you understand it that way, too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>still looking at the letter</i>]. +How can it be interpreted otherwise? +[<i>About to read the letter aloud.</i>] Ahem! +[<i>Reads with a certain solemnity.</i>] "My +drama has been accepted and will be produced +this very winter. The conditions +of the contract are first-rate, and the +director promises me a great success, +and incidentally a great reputation." +[<i>Reads over some passages in an indistinct +nasal monotone, then continues.</i>] +"My! You ought to see me now.—I've +sung and danced so much that it'll be a +wonder to me if I'm not asked to move. +I feel so strong. And now to write, to +create, to do things!" [<i>Reads again in +a nasal monotone, and soon with greater +solemnity than before, and a certain tenderness.</i>] +"And now, I hope, better days +are in store for us, happiness of such a +nature that you cannot be indifferent to +it." [<i>Stops reading.</i>] That's a bit veiled, +but it's plain talk just the same. [<i>Gives +Fanny the letter. Speaks lovingly.</i>] +Lucky woman! My darling Fanny! +[<i>Embraces her.</i>] You dear! [<i>Kisses +her.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> So that's the way you understand +it, too? [<i>Speaks in gasps, trembling +all over.</i>] Oh! Oh!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Covers her face with the letter, takes +it to her lips and breathes with +difficulty. She takes from her right +sleeve a handkerchief and wipes +her eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>moved, embracing her with +both arms</i>]. My dear Fanny! How +happy I am! You dear, you! [<i>Dreamily.</i>] +Now I know how I'll play at the +Ginsbergs' to-night! I'll put my whole +soul into the music, and it will be the +merriest, cheeriest soul that ever lived +in the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>bends down and kisses her +forehead</i>]. My faithful friend!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> At last! My dream's come +true!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>drops into the armchair</i>]. +Your dream?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>takes a piece of cloth from the +table, spreads it out on the floor, and +kneels before Fanny</i>]. Listen. I dreamed +for you a hero before whom the world, +even before seeing him, would bare its +head. I dreamed for you a triumphal +march of powerful harmonies, a genius, +a superman, such as only you deserve.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Sh! Sh! Don't talk like +that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> No, no. You can't take that +away from me. As long as I shall live +I'll never cease admiring you. There +aren't many sisters in the world like you. +Why, you never have given a thought +to yourself, never a look, but have worked +with might and main to make a somebody +out of your sister. I'll tell you the truth. +I've often had the most unfriendly feelings +toward your sister Olga. She takes +it so easy there in Petrograd, while +you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>tenderly</i>]. You're a naughty +girl.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> I simply couldn't see how +things went on,—how you were working +yourself to death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> But that was my happiness, +and now I am amply repaid for it, to see +Olga placed upon an independent footing, +with a great future before her as a +painter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> That kind of happiness did not +appeal very much to me. I wanted, for +you, a different kind of happiness,—the +happiness of being a wife, of being a +mother, of loving and being loved.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>in a reverie</i>]. I had already +weaned my thoughts away from love and +family life as the only happiness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> You poor soul!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> When my mother died, my +road was clearly mapped out for me: to +be to my sister, who is eight years +younger than I, both a father and a +mother. That purpose was great and +holy to me. I never thought of anything +else. Only in the early twenties, between +twenty-two and twenty-five, a longing +for something else came to me. Not +that my sister became a burden to me, +God forbid, but I wanted something more, +a full life, happiness and—love. At that +time I used to cry very much, and wet +my pillow with my tears, and I was very +unhappy. And I was easily angered +then, too, so you see I was far from an +angel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>draws Fanny nearer, and kisses +her</i>]. You darling, you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> But later the longing left +me, as if it had been charmed away. +Olga grew older, and her talents began +to ripen. Then I forgot myself altogether, +and she became again my sole +concern.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> And is that all?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> What else can there be? Of +course, when my sister went to Petrograd +she was no longer under my immediate +care and I was left all alone. The old +longing re-awoke in my bosom but I told +myself that one of my years had no right +to expect happiness and love? So I determined +to tear out, to uproot from my +heart every longing. I tried to convince +myself that my goal in life had already +been attained—that I had placed a helpless +child securely upon her feet—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> But you loved Berman all the +time, didn't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Yes, I loved him all the time, +but I fought my feelings. Life had +taught me to restrain and to suppress +my desires. I argued: He is too far +above me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> Too far above you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>continuing</i>]. And I am too +worn-out for him. And furthermore, I +tried to make myself believe that his +daily visits here were accidental, that +they were not intended for me at all, but +for his friend and nephew Hindes, who +happens to board with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> But how could you help perceiving +that he was something more than +indifference to you? You must have +been able to read it in his eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>smiling</i>]. Well, you see how +it is! And perhaps for the very reason +that I had abandoned all ideas of love, +and had sought to deceive myself into +believing that I was a dried-up twig on +the tree of live—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>jumping up</i>]. My! How you +sinned against yourself!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>rising</i>]. But now the sap and +the strength flow again within me,—now +I am young once more.—Ah! Life, life!—To +enjoy it, to drink it down in copious +draughts, to feel it in every pulse-beat—Oh, +Lizzie, play me a triumphal +march, a song of joy, of jubilation....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> So that the very walls will +dance and the heavens join in the chorus. +[<i>Goes to the door at the left, singing.</i>] +"Joy, thou goddess, fair, immortal, +daughter of Elysium, Mad with rapture—" +[<i>Suddenly stops.</i>] Sh! Hindes +is coming!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Listens.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>she has been standing as if entranced; +her whole body trembles as she +awakens to her surroundings. She puts +her finger to her nose, warningly.</i>] Don't +say a word to him about it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> I will! He must know it, he +must be happy over it, too. And if he +truly loves you, he will be happy to +learn it. And then, once for all he'll get +rid of his notions about winning you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Don't be so inconsiderate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> Leave it to me!... Hindes! +Hindes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> It's high time you left for the +Ginsbergs'.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> I've a few minutes yet.... +Hindes! Hindes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>appears at the rear door. He +wears spectacles; under his left arm a +crutch, under his right arm books, and +in his hands various bags of food</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>steals out through the door at +the left</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Good evening. What's the +news?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> Come here! Quick! Fa—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Won't you give me time to +carry my parcels into my room?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> Not even a second! Fanny +has—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>taking an apple from a bag</i>]. +Have an apple.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>refusing it</i>]. Let me speak, +won't you! Fa—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> May I at least sit down?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>loudly</i>]. Fanny has received +a letter from Berman!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>taking a seat</i>]. Saying that +his drama has been accepted. I, too, +have received a letter from Berman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> That's nothing. The point is +that he is seeking to make a match with +her. He has practically proposed to her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>astonished</i>]. Practically proposed? +To Fanny?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie.</span> Yes, and when Fanny comes +back you just see to it that you wish her +a right friendly congratulation, and that +you make no—[<i>Stops suddenly.</i>] Hm! +I came near saying something silly.—Oh, +I'm so happy, and I'd just have the whole +world happy with me. Do you hear? +You must help her celebrate, do you +hear? And now, good night to you, for +I must run along to the Ginsbergs'.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Turns to the door at the left singing: +"Joy, thou goddess, fair, immortal...."</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>calling after her</i>]. But—the +devil. Miss Ehrlich!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lizzie</span> [<i>at the door</i>]. I haven't a single +moment to spare for the devil.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>She disappears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>grunts angrily, throws his +crutch to the ground, places his books +and his packages on a chair, and mumbles</i>]. +What mockery is this!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Takes out a letter from his inside +pocket and reads it over several +times. Grunts again. Rests his +head heavily upon his hands, and +looks vacantly forward, as if deeply +puzzled.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>enters, embarrassed</i>]. Good +evening, Hindes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>mumbles, without changing his +position</i>]. Good evening!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>looks at him in embarrassment, +and begins to busy herself with the +cloaks on the forms.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>still in the same position. He +taps his foot nervously. He soon ceases +this, and speaks without looking at +Fanny</i>]. Miss Segal, will you permit me +to see Berman's letter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>with a nervous laugh</i>]. That's +a bit indiscreet—not at all like a cavalier.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>same position and same tone</i>]. +Will you permit me to see Berman's letter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>with a laugh of embarrassment, +throws him the letter, which she has +been holding in her sleeve</i>]. Read it, if +that's how you feel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>bends slowly down, gets the +letter, commences to read it, and then to +grumble</i>]. H'm! So! [<i>He lets the letter +fall to his knee, and stares vacantly +before him. He shakes his foot nervously +and mumbles as if to himself.</i>] To be +such an idiot!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>regards him with astonishment</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>somewhat more softly</i>]. To +be such an idiot!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>laughing, still embarrassed</i>]. +Who?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Not I.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Picks up his crutch, the books and +the parcels, arises, and gives the +letter to Fanny.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>beseechingly</i>]. Hindes, don't +take it so badly. You make me very +sad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> I'm going to my room, so you +won't see me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>as before</i>]. Don't speak to +me like that, Hindes. Be my good friend, +as you always were. [<i>In a lower tone, +embarrassed.</i>] And be good to Berman. +For you know, between us, between you +and me, there could never have been anything +more than friendship.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> There is no need of your telling +me that. I know what I know and +have no fault to find with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Then why are you so upset, +and why do you reproach yourself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Because....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Because what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>after an inner struggle, stormily</i>]. +Because I am in a rage! To think +of a chap writing such a veiled, ambiguous, +absolutely botched sentence, and +cooking up such a mess!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> What do you mean by all +this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> You know, Miss Segal, what +my feelings are toward you, and you +know that I wish you all happiness. I +assure you that I would bury deep within +me all my grief and all my longing, and +would rejoice with a full heart—if things +were as you understood them from Berman's +letter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> As I understood them from +Berman's letter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> —And what rouses my anger +and makes me hesitate is that it should +have had to happen to you and that I +must be the surgeon to cut the cataract +from your eye.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>astounded</i>]. Drop your rhetorical +figures. End your work. Cut +away, since you've begun the cutting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>without looking at her, deeply +stirred</i>]. Berman did not mean you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Not me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Not you, but your sister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>with an outcry</i>]. Oh!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> He writes me that his first +meeting with her was as if the splendor +of God had suddenly shone down upon +him,—that gradually he was inflamed by +a fiery passion, and that he hopes his +love is returned, that....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>falls upon a chair, her face +turned toward the table. She breaks into +moaning</i>]. She has taken from me everything!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>In deepest despair, with cries from +her innermost being, she tears at +her hair.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>drops his books and packages +to the floor. Limps over to Fanny, and +removes her hands from her head</i>]. You +have good reason to weep, but not to +harm yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>hysterically</i>]. She has taken +from me everything! My ambition to +study, my youth, my fondest hopes, and +now....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> And now?—Nothing. As +you see, Berman never loved you. If it +hadn't been for that unfortunate, ambiguous, +absolutely botched, simply idiotic +sentence....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>softly</i>]. Hindes, I feel that I +no longer care to live.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Folly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> I feel as if my heart had +been torn in two. My soul is empty, +desolate ... as if an abyss had opened +before me.... What have I now in life +for? I can live no longer!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Folly! Nonsense!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> I have already lived my life....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Absurd!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>resolutely</i>]. I know what I'm +talking about, and I know what to do.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>regarding her closely. With +blunt emphasis</i>]. You're thinking now +over what death you shall choose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>motionless</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>taking a seat</i>]. Let me tell +you a story. There was once upon a +time a man who—not through doubt and +misfortune, but rather through good times +and pleasures, came to the conclusion that +life wasn't worth living. So he went off +to buy a revolver. On his way a great +clamor arose in the street. A house had +caught fire and in a moment was in +flames. Suddenly, at one of the windows +in the top story there appeared a woman. +The firemen had placed their highest ladders +against the building and a man +began to climb up. That man was none +other than our candidate for suicide. He +took the woman out of the window, gave +her to the firemen who had followed him +up, and then went through the window +into the house. The surrounding crowd +trembled with fear lest the house should +cave in at the very last moment. Flames +already appeared at the window, and +people were sure that the hero had been +burned to death inside. But he had not +been burned; he soon appeared on the +roof, with a small child in his arms. The +ladders could not reach to this height, +so the firemen threw him a rope. He +tied the rope about the child and lowered +it to the firemen. But he himself was +beyond rescue. He folded his hands over +his heart, and tears trickled from his +eyes. He, who but a moment before had +sought death, now desired not to die. +No, he wanted to live, for in that moment +he had found a purpose: to live +and to do good.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. To do good! I'm +tired of doing good!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Don't sin against yourself, +Fanny!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Do good! I have done good; +I have lived for others, not myself; and +now you can see for yourself that I have +not fulfilled my life. I feel as wretched +as the most miserable, as the most wicked, +and I long for death even as the most +unhappy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>looking at her from under his +spectacles</i>]. Does Olga know of your +feelings toward Berman?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>angrily</i>]. I don't know what +she knows.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Can't you give me any better +reply than that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> What can I know? I used to +write her letters just full of Berman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Could Olga have gathered +from them that you were not indifferently +disposed toward him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> What do you mean by this +cross-examination?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> I have a notion that if you +were to do what you have in your mind +at present,—a thing I cannot bring myself +to name,—then Olga would not accept +Berman's love. Rather she would +take her own life, since she would +look upon herself as the cause of your +death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> What's this you've thought +up?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Just what you heard.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> And you mean—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> —That you know your sister +and ought to realize what she's liable to +do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>in a fit of anger</i>]. First she +takes away my life, and now she will +not let me die!</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Her head sinks to the table.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> There spoke the true Fanny, +the Fanny of yore.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>weeps bitterly</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Well may you weep. Weep, +Fanny, weep until the tears come no +more. But when that is over, then dry +your eyes and never weep again. Dry +forever the source of all your tears. +That's exactly what I did, do you understand? +Such people as you and I, robbed +of personal happiness, must either weep +forever, or never weep at all. I chose +the latter course. Harden yourself, +Fanny, and then fold your arms on your +breast and look fearlessly forward into +life, fulfilling it as your heart dictates.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>continues weeping</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>noticing Berman's letter on +the table, takes it up and throws it down +angrily</i>]. Such a botched, idiotic sentence! +And he's a poet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>raising her head</i>]. If things +are as you say, then Olga will in any +case reject Berman. She will imagine +that she is taking him away from me, and +such a thing she would never do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Perhaps. [<i>Suddenly, bluntly.</i>] +And what will be the effect of all +this upon you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>brokenly</i>]. Who's thinking of +self? I mean that I want her to have +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> There's the old Fanny again!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Ah! Enough of that! Better +help me with some suggestion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Some suggestion? Be her +matchmaker.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> And suppose she should turn +the tables and want to be my matchmaker?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> We've got to think that over.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>brokenly</i>]. Hindes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> I have an idea.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Good.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> But I need your aid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Count on me, if I'm able.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Do you promise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Blindly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Blindly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>looks at her</i>]. Why must I +promise you blindly? If I'm able, you +may be sure I'll help.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>brokenly, yet in embarrassment</i>]. +Take me.... Marry me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>for a moment he looks at her, +then picks up his crutch, his books and +the packages</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>beseechingly</i>]. Hindes! If I +should marry, Olga wouldn't have any +obstacle in her way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Miss Segal, I have loved you, +and still do. But I refuse to be the altar +upon which you shall sacrifice yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> But a moment ago you dissuaded +me from death. Will you now +drive me back to it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Your sister will be able to +find happiness without Berman.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> But if she loves him?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Then she'll suffer, just as we +do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> No! Olga must not suffer! +Do you hear! I'll not have it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> That is very nice of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>through her tears</i>]. Hindes, +I no longer know you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>turns toward the door</i>]. Good +night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>is overcome by sobbing</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>limps to the door, then stops. +Looks downwards, then raises his eyes +toward Fanny</i>]. Miss Segal, why is it +that during all the time that I have +boarded with you I have made no declaration +of love, that I have never proposed +marriage?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>weeps</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> I'll tell you. Wasn't it because +I knew that you didn't love me, and +because I wanted your love, not merely +your respect?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>firmly</i>]. No. You didn't do +it simply because you knew that I would +refuse you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> And suppose I expected +"Yes" from you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Then you would have proposed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> And married you without +your love?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> But then I didn't know that +you loved another.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>brokenly</i>]. The other no +longer exists for me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>looks again at the floor. Silence</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Hindes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Come nearer to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes.</span> I am lame.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny.</span> Put all your bundles aside.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>hesitates for a moment, then +puts down his books and packages</i>].</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>as if in embarrassment</i>]. +Everything.... Everything....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>bluntly</i>]. Don't be ashamed. +Say just what you mean: Lay aside the +crutch, too.</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He lays aside the crutch.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> [<i>arises, takes his hand</i>]. +Hindes, you know my attitude toward +you. You know how highly I esteem +you, how happy I've always been to possess +in you a good, true friend.... +[<i>Nestles her head against him, coyly.</i>] +Embrace me, and give me a kiss, a hot, +passionate kiss. Put into it your whole +love, make it express your whole true +soul. [<i>Brokenly, and in tears.</i>] I tell +you, our life will be—happy. We souls, +forgotten by happiness, will yet find it—in +our own way—as best we can. +[<i>Less tearfully.</i>] You'll see how it'll +soon be. Lizzie will come home and she'll +play us a march of jubilation, a march +of joy.... [<i>Brokenly.</i>] She owes it to +me!... I'll dance, I tell you; I'll dance +for two. You'll see. And I'll sing. I'll +turn things upside down. Hindes, kiss +me, hotly, hotly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hindes</span> [<i>passionately, through tears</i>]. +You.... You....</p> + +<p class="salute">[<i>He gives her a long kiss, as if entranced.</i>]</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"> +[<i>Slow Curtain.</i>]<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2><a name="BIBLIOGRAPHY" id="BIBLIOGRAPHY"></a>BIBLIOGRAPHY<br /> +OF THE LITTLE THEATRE</h2> + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h4>FOREWORD</h4> + + +<p>What is wanting in this list the reader will only too soon discover for himself. +I do not, however, wish to offer a faltering apology for the incompleteness of the +work. In truth, it needs none. Nevertheless, a brief word of explanation may not +be amiss.</p> + +<p>The duties of the bibliographer are more or less mechanical. He merely collects +his data from the most available sources or from arcana known only to a few, +arranges his material alphabetically and sends his copy to the printer.</p> + +<p>The present list is an exception to the general practice. It will be noted +that the bibliographer has broken his traces, forsaken his accustomed field and intruded, +in some measure, upon the province of the critic. From the great mass of +plays accessible in English I have sought to select only those which I hold best +adapted to the little theater as it is to-day constituted. On the whole, they are +plays which have encountered a certain measure of success or that I felt to be +worthy of production. Rigid care has been taken to exclude such dramatic pieces +which are fittingly described as "side-splitting farces." The latter contribute nothing +to the art theater. Box and Cox, I doubt not, may be excruciatingly funny, but +few would care to hear that Sam Hume, for instance, was about to produce it. +Not that genuine laughter hasn't its place in the modern theater; but we cannot +laugh to-day at the archaic drolleries of yesterday. We cannot abandon ourselves +to papier-maché characterization in the theater. And this is what the art theater +accomplished in its brief stay with us.</p> + +<p class="author">F. S.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h4>THE BOOKS OF THE LITTLE THEATRE</h4> + + +<p class="noidt"> +ANTHONY, Luther B.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dramatology</span>. A Manual of Craftsmanship</span><br /> +APPIA, Adolphe<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Die Musik und die Inscenierung</span></span><br /> +ARCHER, William<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Play Making</span>. A Manual of Craftsmanship</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">About the Theatre</span></span><br /> +ARCHER, William, and BARKER, Granville<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A National Theatre</span>. Schemes and Estimates</span><br /> +ARNOLD, Robert S.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Das Moderne Drama</span></span><br /> +AUSTIN, Stephen F.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Principles of Drama-therapy</span></span><br /> +<br /> +BAKER, George Pierce<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Technique of the Drama</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dramatic Technique</span></span><br /> +BAKSHY, Alexander<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Path of the Modern Russian Stage</span></span><br /> +BICKLEY, Francis<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">J. M. Synge and the Irish Dramatic Movement</span></span><br /> +BLEACKLEY, J. Arthur<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Art of Mimicry</span></span><br /> +BOOTH, William Stone<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Practical Guide for Authors and Playwrights</span></span><br /> +BOURGEOIS, Maurice<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">John Millington Synge and the Irish Theatre</span></span><br /> +BOYD, Ernest A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Contemporary Drama of Ireland</span></span><br /> +BROADBENT, R. J.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A History of Pantomime</span></span><br /> +BROWNE, Maurice<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Temple of a Living Art</span></span><br /> +BROWNE, Van Dyke<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Secrets of Scene Painting and Stage Effects</span></span><br /> +BRUNETIERE, Ferdinand<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Law of the Drama</span>, with an introduction by Henry Arthur Jones. Translated by P. M. Hayden</span><br /> +BURLEIGH, Louise<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Community Theatre</span></span><br /> +BURTON, Richard<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">How to See a Play</span></span><br /> +<br /> +CALTHROP, Dion Clayton<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">English Costume</span>. Four volumes</span><br /> +CALVERT, Louis<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Problems of the Actor</span></span><br /> +CANNAN, Gilbert<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Joy of the Theatre</span></span><br /> +CANNON, Fanny<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Writing and Selling a Play</span></span><br /> +CARTER, Huntley<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The New Spirit in Drama and Art</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Theatre of Max Reinhardt</span></span><br /> +CHENEY, Sheldon<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Open Air Theatre</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Theatre Arts Magazine</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The New Movement in the Theatre</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Art Theatre</span></span><br /> +CLARK, Barrett H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">How To Produce Amateur Plays</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Continental Drama of To-day</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">British and American Drama of To-day</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">European Theories of the Drama</span></span><br /> +COLLES, W. M., and HARDY, H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Playwright and Copyright in All Countries</span></span><br /> +COQUELIN, Constant<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Art and the Actor</span>. Translated by A. L. Alger</span><br /> +CRAIG, Gordon<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Art of the Theatre</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">On the Art of the Theatre</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Living Theatre</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Towards a New Theatre</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Theatre—Advancing</span></span><br /> +<br /> +DEAN, Basil<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Repertory Theatre</span>, 1911</span><br /> +DICKINSON, Thomas H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Contemporary Drama of England</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Insurgent Theatre</span></span><br /> +<br /> +EDWARDS, O.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Japanese Plays and Playfellows</span></span><br /> +<br /> +FENELLOSA, Ernest, and POUND, Ezra<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"<span class="smcap">No</span>"; or <span class="smcap">Accomplishment</span></span><br /> +FRY, Emma Sheridan<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Educational Dramatics</span></span><br /> +<br /> +GILLETTE, William<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Illusion of the First Time in Acting</span></span><br /> +GOLDMAN, Emma<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Social Significance of the Modern Drama</span></span><br /> +GREGORY, Lady<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Our Irish Theatre</span></span><br /> +<br /> +HAMILTON, Clayton<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Theory of the Theatre</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Studies in Stagecraft</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Problems of the Playwright</span></span><br /> +HASTINGS, Charles<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Theatre</span>. Its Development in France and England and a History of Its Greek and Latin Origins</span><br /> +HENDERSON, Archibald<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Changing Drama</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">European Dramatists</span></span><br /> +HENNEQUIN, Alfred<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Art of Playwriting</span></span><br /> +HILLIARD, E., McCORMICK, T., and OGLEBAY, K.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Amateur and Educational Dramatics</span></span><br /> +HORNBLOW, Arthur<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Training for the Stage</span>. Some Hints for Those About to Choose the Player's Career</span><br /> +HORRWITZ, Ernest P.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Indian Theatre</span>. A Brief Survey of the Sanskrit Drama</span><br /> +HOWE, P. P.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Repertory Theatre</span></span><br /> +HUBERT, Philip G.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Stage As a Career</span></span><br /> +HUNT, Elizabeth R.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Play of To-day</span></span><br /> +<br /> +IZUMO, Takeda. Translated by M. C. Marcus<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Pine Tree</span>. With an Introductory Causerie on the Japanese Theatre</span><br /> +<br /> +JONES, Henry Arthur<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Renascence of the English Drama</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Foundations of a National Drama</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Theatre of Ideas</span></span><br /> +<br /> +KROWS, Arthur Edwin<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Play Production in America</span></span><br /> +<br /> +LAWRENCE, W. J.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Elizabethan Playhouse</span></span><br /> +LEWES, G. H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">On Actors and the Art of Acting</span></span><br /> +LEWIS, B. Roland<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Technique of the One-act Play</span>: A Study in Dramatic Construction</span><br /> +LEWISOHN, Ludwig<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Modern Drama</span></span><br /> +<br /> +MACCARTHY, Desmond<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Court Theatre</span></span><br /> +MACCLINTOCK, Lander<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Contemporary Drama of Italy</span></span><br /> +MACKAY, Constance D'Arcy<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Costumes and Scenery for Amateurs</span>; A Practical Working Handbook</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Little Theatre in the United States</span></span><br /> +MACKAY, F. F.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Art of Acting</span></span><br /> +MACKAYE, Percy<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Community Drama</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Civil Theatre</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Playhouse and the Play</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Patriotic Drama in Your Town</span></span><br /> +MACKINNON, Alan<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Oxford Amateurs</span></span><br /> +MANTIZIUS, Karl<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">History of Theatrical Art in Ancient and Modern Times</span>. Five volumes</span><br /> +McCLEOD, Addison<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Plays and Players in Modern Italy</span></span><br /> +McEWEN, E. J.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Freytag's Technique of the Drama</span></span><br /> +MATTHEWS, Brander<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">On Acting</span></span><br /> +MODERWELL, Hiram Kelly<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Theatre of To-day</span></span><br /> +MONTAGUE, C. E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dramatic Values</span></span><br /> +MORSE, Elizabeth<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Principles of Expression</span>: A Guide for Developing Readers, Speakers and Dramatic Artists</span><br /> +<br /> +NICHOLSON, Watson<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Struggle for a Free Stage in London</span></span><br /> +<br /> +PALMER, John<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Future of the Theatre Comedy</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Censor and the Theatre</span></span><br /> +PHELPS, William Lyon<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Twentieth Century Theatre</span></span><br /> +POLLAK, Gustav<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Franz Grillparzar and the Austrian Drama</span></span><br /> +POLTI, George. Translated by Lucille Ray<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Thirty-six Dramatic Situations</span></span><br /> +PRICE, W. T.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Technique of the Drama</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Analysis of Play Construction and Dramatic Principle</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Philosophy of Dramatic Principle and Method</span></span><br /> +<br /> +RENNERT, Hugo A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Spanish Stage</span></span><br /> +RILEY, Alice C. D.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The One-act Play</span>. A Study Course in Three Parts</span><br /> +ROUCHE, Jacques<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">L'Art Theatral Moderne</span></span><br /> +<br /> +SACHS, Edward O.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Stage Construction</span></span><br /> +SAYLER, Oliver M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Russian Theatre Under the Revolution</span></span><br /> +SEPET, Marius<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Origines Catholiques de Theatre Moderne</span></span><br /> +SHAW, George Bernard<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dramatic Opinions and Essays</span></span><br /> +SHAY, Frank<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Plays and Books of the Little Theatre</span>. A Listing of Over 1000 One-Act Plays Available in Printed Form</span><br /> +SMITH, Winifred<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Commedia Dell'arte</span>. A Study of Italian Popular Comedy</span><br /> +STOPES, Marie C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Plays of Old Japan</span>. The No.</span><br /> +<br /> +TAYLOR, Emerson<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Practical Stage Directing for Amateurs</span></span><br /> +THEATRICAL SCENE PAINTING: A Thorough and Complete Work on How to Sketch, Paint and Install Theatrical Scenery<br /> +THE TRUTH ABOUT THE THEATRE<br /> +TURRELL, Charles A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Contemporary Spanish Dramatists</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WAUGH, Frank A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Outdoor Theatres</span></span><br /> +WITKOWSKI, George. Translated by L. E. Horning<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The German Drama of the Nineteenth Century</span></span><br /> +WOODBRIDGE, Elizabeth<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Drama</span>. Its Law and Technique</span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h4>THE PLAYS OF THE LITTLE THEATRE</h4> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center'>ABBREVIATIONS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> +a—Allegory<br /> +c—Comedy<br /> +d—Drama<br /> +m—Masque<br /> +p—Play<br /> +s—Satire<br /> +m—Men, or Male Characters<br /> +w—Women, or Female Characters<br /> +j—Juvenile<br /> +i—Characters played by either sex<br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="noidt"> +ABERCROMBIE, Lascelles<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Adder</span></span><br /> +<br /> +AKINS, Zoe<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Did It Really Happen?</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Magical City</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Such a Charming Young Man</span></span><br /> +<br /> +ALDRICH, Thos. Bailey<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sisters' Tragedy</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Corydon</span>, a Pastoral. 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Pauline Pavlovna</span>. p. 1m 1w supers <span class="ralign"><i>Houghton</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ALDIS, Mary<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Plays for Small Stages</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Pat and the Law</span>. p 2m 2w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Drama Class at Tankaha, Nev.</span> c 2m 9w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Extreme Unction</span>. d 1m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Letter</span>. p 2m 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Temperament</span>. t 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Duffield</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ANCEY, Georges. See "Four Plays for the Free Theatre."<br /> +<br /> +ANDREWS, K.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">America Passes By</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ANDREYEV, Leonid<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Love of One's Neighbor</span>. s 15m 7w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<small>D</small>'ANNUNZIO, Gabriele<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dream of an Autumn Sunset</span>. p 2m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dream of a Spring Morning</span>. p 3m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ARISTOPHANES<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lysistrata</span>. s 4m 5w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ARKELL, Reginald<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Columbine</span>, a fantasy. 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>S. & J.</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +AUGIER, Emile<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Postscript</span>. c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +AUGIER, Emile, and de MUSSET, Alfred<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Green Coat</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +AUSTEN, Alfred<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Lesson in Harmony</span>. p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +BACON, Mrs. Josephine Dodge<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Twilight of the Gods</span>. p 2 scenes <span class="ralign"><i>Kennerley</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BAKER, Elizabeth<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Miss Tassy</span>. p <span class="ralign"><i>Sidgwick</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BALLARD, J. Fred<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Good News</span>. d 3m 1w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Harvard</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BANGS, John Kendrick<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Real Thing</span>, etc.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Real Thing</span>. c 2m 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Barringtons' "At Home."</span> c 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Return of Christmas</span>. c 4m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Side Show</span>. c 8m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Harpers</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bicyclers</span>, etc.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Bicyclers</span>. c 4m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">A Dramatic Evening</span>. c 4m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Fatal Message</span>. c 5m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">A Proposal Under Difficulties</span>. c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Harpers</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BANNING, Kendall<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">"Copy."</span> p 7m <span class="ralign"><i>Clinic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<small>DE</small>BANVILLE, Theodore<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gringoire</span>. c 4m 2w supers <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gringoire</span>. c 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Charming Leandre</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BARBER, M. E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mechanical Jane</span>. c 3W <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BARGATE, John<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Prize</span>. p 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BARKER, Granville<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Rococo</span>. f m w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Vote by Ballot</span>. p m w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Farewell To the Theatre</span>. p m w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Anatol</span>. (<i>See</i> Schnitzler.)</span><br /> +<br /> +BARRIE, James M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Half Hours</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Pantaloon</span>. p 3m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Twelve Pound Look</span>. c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Rosalind</span>. p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Will</span>. p 6m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Four plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner's</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Tragic Man</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner's</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Echoes of War</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Old Lady Shows Her Medals</span>. p 1m 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The New World</span>. p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Barbara's Wedding</span>. p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">A Well-remembered Voice</span>. p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Four plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner's</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BATES, W. O.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Polly of Pogue's Run</span>. p 6m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BEACH, Lewis<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Clod</span>. p 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Brothers</span>. p 3m <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Guest for Dinner</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BECHHOFER, C. E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Five Russian Plays</span>, etc.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Evreinov, N.</span> <span class="smcap">A Merry Death</span>. c 5m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Evreinov, N.</span> <span class="smcap">The Beautiful Despot</span>. c 5m 3w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">von Vizin, D.</span> <span class="smcap">The Choice of a Tutor</span>. c 5m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Chekov, A.</span> <span class="smcap">The Wedding</span>. c 9m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Chekov, A.</span> <span class="smcap">The Jubilee</span>. c 5m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Ukrainka, L.</span> <span class="smcap">The Babylonian Captivity</span>. d 1m 7i</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Six plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Dutton</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BECQUE, Henri<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Vultures</span>, etc.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Merry-Go-Round</span>. c 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BELL, Mrs. Hugh, and CECIL, A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Time Is Money</span>. c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BELMONT, Mrs. O. H. P., and MAXWELL, Elsa<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Melinda and Her Sisters</span>. p 6m 12w <span class="ralign"><i>Shores</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BEITH, Ian Hay<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Crimson Cocoanut</span>, etc.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Crimson Cocoanut.</span> c 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">A Late Delivery</span>. p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Missing Card</span>. c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Three plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Queen of Hearts</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Penn</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BENEDIX, Roderich<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Law of Suit</span>. c 5m <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Third Man</span>. c 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BENEVENTE, Jacinto. <span class="smcap">Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">His Widow's Husband</span>. c 2m 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With other plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Smile of the Mona Lisa</span>. p 5m 1i <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">No Smoking</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In the Place of Don Juan</span>. p 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BENNETT, Arnold. <span class="smcap">Polite Farces</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Stepmother</span>. c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Good Woman</span>. 3 cm 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Question of Sex</span>. c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'volumn'">volume</ins> <span class="ralign"><i>Doran</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BERINGER, Mrs. Oscar<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Holly Tree Inn</span>. p 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BERNARD, Tristan<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">French Without a Master</span>. c 5m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">I'm Going!</span> c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BIRO, Lajos<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bridegroom</span>. p 5m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Grandmother</span>. p 3m 8w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays in one number <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>May</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +BLOCH, Bertram<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Maiden Over the Wall</span>. f 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Morals and Circumstances</span>. p 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>April</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +BODENHEIM, Maxwell<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Wanderer</span>. p 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Seven Arts</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Master Poisoner</span>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"In Minna and Myself" <span class="ralign"><i>Pagan</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BONE, F. D.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Daughter of Japan</span>. d <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pride of the Regiment</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BOTTOMLEY, Gordon<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Laodice and Danae</span>. p 1m 5w <span class="ralign"><i>Four</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">King Lear's Wife</span>. p <span class="ralign"><i>Reynolds</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BOUCHOR, Maurice<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Christmas Tale</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BOUCICAULT, Dion<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">My Little Girl.</span> d 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lover by Proxy.</span> c 6m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BOYCE, Neith, and HAPGOOD, Hutchins<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Enemies</span>. p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BOYCE, Neith<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Two Sons.</span> p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BRAGDON, Claude<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Gift of Asia.</span> p 2m <span class="ralign"><i>Forum, March</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<br /> +BRANCH, Anna Hempstead<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rose of the Wind.</span> p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Houghton</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Shoes That Danced.</span> p 3m 5w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Houghton</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BRETHERTON, Evangeline<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Minister's Messenger.</span> p 14w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BRIDGHAM, G. R.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Excuse Me!</span> c Two acts. 4m 6w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Modern Cinderella.</span> Two acts. p 16w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BRIEUX, Eugene<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">School for Mothers-in-law.</span> p 2m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Sept.</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<br /> +BRIGHOUSE, Harold<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Scaring Off of Teddy Dawson.</span> c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lonesome-like.</span> p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Price of Coal.</span> p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Maid of France.</span> p 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Doorway.</span> p <span class="ralign"><i>Joseph Williams</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Spring in Bloomsbury.</span> p <span class="ralign"><i>Joseph Williams</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BRIGGS, Caroline<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">One a Day.</span> c 5m <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In "Morningside Plays."</span><br /> +<br /> +BROOKE, Rupert<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lithuania.</span> d 5m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Chicago</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BROWN, Alice<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Joint Owners in Spain.</span> c 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Loving Cup.</span> p 4m 9w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BROWNE, Maurice<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">King of the Jews.</span> p <span class="ralign"><i>Drama, Vol.</i> 6, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +BROWNING, Robert<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In a Balcony.</span> p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BRUNNER, Emma Beatrice. <span class="smcap">Bits of Background</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Over Age.</span> p 1m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Spark of Life.</span> p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Strangers.</span> p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Making a Man.</span> p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Knopf</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BRYANT, E. M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Peacemaker.</span> c 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BRYANT, Louise<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Game.</span> p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BUCK, Gertrude<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mother-love.</span> p 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama, Feb.</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +BUNNER, H. C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Courtship With Variations.</span> c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Werner</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BUNNER, H. C., and MAGNUS, J.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Bad Case.</span> c 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BUSHIDO. <i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Izumo (Takeda)</span><br /> +<br /> +BUTLER, Ellis Parker<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Revolt.</span> p 8w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +BYNNER, Witter<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Little King.</span> p 3m 1w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Kennerley</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tiger.</span> d 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Kennerley</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">de</span>CAULAVET, G. A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Choosing a Career.</span> c <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CALDERON, George<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Little Stone House.</span> p <span class="ralign"><i>Sidgwick</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CAMERON, Margaret. <span class="smcap">Comedies in Miniature</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Miss Doulton's Orchids.</span> c 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Burglar.</span> c 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Kleptomaniac.</span> c 7w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Pipe of Peace.</span> c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Christmas Chime.</span> c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Committee on Matrimony.</span> c 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Her Neighbor's Creed</span> and <span class="smcap">Four Monologues.</span> c 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Seven plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Doubleday</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Piper's Pay.</span> c 7w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Teeth of the Gift Horse.</span> c 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The White Elephant.</span> c 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Published separately <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CAMPBELL, M. D.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Chinese Dummy.</span> c 6w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CANNAN, Gilbert. <span class="smcap">Four Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">James and John.</span> p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Miles Dixon.</span> Two acts, p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mary's Wedding.</span> p 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Short Way With Authors.</span> p 7m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Everybody's Husband.</span> p 1m 5w <span class="ralign"><i>Huebsch</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CAPUS, Alfred<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">My Tailor.</span> c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Feb.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +CARMAN, Bliss, and KING, Mary. <span class="smcap">Earth Deities</span>, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Dance Diurnal</span>. m 2m 3w i</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Earth Deities</span>. m 1m 10w i</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Children of the War</span>. m 1m 1w 24j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pas de Trois</span>. m 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four masques in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Kennerley</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CARTER, Josephine Howell<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hilarion</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i>, <i>Summer</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +CARTHEW, L.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The American Idea</span>. p 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CARTON, R. C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Ninth Waltz</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAMBERS, C. Haddon<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Open Gate</span>. d 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CHATTERJI, Tapanmohan<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Light-Bearer</span>. d 4m <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +CHURCH, Virginia<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pierrot by the Light of the Moon</span>. f 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +CLEMENTS, Colin C., and SAUNDERS, John M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Love in a French Kitchen</span>, a Mediæval Farce. 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CLARK, Barrett H. <span class="smcap">Four Plays for the Free Theatre</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">deCurel, F.</span> <span class="smcap">The Fossils</span>. Four acts p 6m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Julian, J.</span> <span class="smcap">The Serenade</span>. Three acts. p 7m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Porto-riche, G.</span> <span class="smcap">Françoise's Luck</span>. c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ancey, G.</span> <span class="smcap">The Dupe</span>. c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +COLQUHON, Donald. <i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Repertory Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Confederates</span>. d 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CONWAY, Ed. Harold<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Windy Shot</span>. p 5m <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>April</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +CONRAD, Joseph<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">One Day More</span>. d 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<br /> +CONVERSE, Florence<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Blessed Birthday</span>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Christmas Miracle Play. 19 Characters <span class="ralign"><i>Dutton</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +COOLIDGE, H. D.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dead Reckoning</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +COPPEE, François<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Violin Maker of Cremona</span>. c 3m 1w supers <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pater Noster</span>. p 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +COURTLELINE, Georges<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Pitiless Policeman</span>. c 3m <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Blank Cartridge</span>. p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>International</i>, <i>July</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Peace at Home</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>International</i>, <i>Dec.</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Peace at Home</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. <i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Presbery, E.</span><br /> +<br /> +COWAN, Sada<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The State Forbids</span>. d 1m 2w 2j <span class="ralign"><i>Kennerley</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In the Morgue</span>. <span class="ralign"><i>Forum</i>, <i>April</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sintram of Skagerrak</span>. p 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In Mayorga's "Representative One-Act Plays" <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CRAIG, Marion Wentworth<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">War Brides</span>. d 3m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Century</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CRANDALL, Irene Jean<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Beyond the Gate</span>. Two acts. p 7m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CRANE, Mabel H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Girls</span>. p 9w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +CROTHERS, Rachel<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rector</span>. p 1m 6w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +DANE, Essex<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fleurette & Co.</span> p 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Wrong Numbers</span>. c 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DANGERFIELD, Trelawney<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Old Stuff</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>June</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +DARGAN, Olive Tilford. <span class="smcap">Lords And Lovers</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lords and Lovers</span>. p 18m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Woods of Ida</span>. m <span class="ralign"><i>Century</i>, <i>August</i>, 1907</span></span><br /> +<br /> +DAVIS, Richard Harding<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Miss Civilization</span>. c 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Peace Manoeuvers</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Zone Police</span>. p 4m <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Orator of Zapata City</span>. p 8m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DAVIES, Mary Carolyn<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Slave With Two Faces</span>. a 3m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Arens</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DAVIS, Robert H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Room Without a Number</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>April</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +DAVIS, Robert H., and SHEEHAN, P. P.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Efficiency</span>. d 3m <span class="ralign"><i>Doran</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DELL, Floyd<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Long Time Ago</span>. f <span class="ralign"><i>Forum</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">King Arthur's Socks</span>. c 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Angel Intrudes</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Arens</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DELAND, Margaret<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dramatized by M. B. Vosburgh from "Old Chester Tales"</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Miss Maria</span>. c 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DEMUTH, Charles<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Azure Adder</span>. s 3m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DENISON, Emily H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Little Mother of the Slums</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Seven one-act plays <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DENTON, Clara J.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">To Meet Mr. Thompson</span>. c 8w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DEPUE, Elva<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hattie</span>. p 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In "Morningside Plays"</span><br /> +<br /> +DICKENS, Charles<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Browne, H. B.</span> Short Plays from Dickens. Contains 20 dramatized</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">sketches from the work of Charles Dickens <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bardell vs. Pickwick</span>. c 6m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Christmas Carol</span>. p 6m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DICKINSON, C. H., and GRIFFITHS, Arthur<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rift Within the Lute</span>. p 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DIX, Beulah Marie<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Glorious Game</span>. d 6w <span class="ralign"><i>A.S.P.L.</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Enemy</span>. d 5m <span class="ralign"><i>A.S.P.L.</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Clemency</span>. d 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>A.S.P.L.</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Legend of St. Nicholas</span>. d <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Allison's Lad and Other Plays</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Allison's Lad</span>. d 6m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Hundredth Trick</span>. d 4m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Weakest Link</span>. d 4m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Snare and the Fowler</span>. d 3m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Captain of the Gate</span>. d 6m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Dark of the Dawn</span>. d 4m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Six plays in one <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'volumn'">volume</ins> <span class="ralign"><i>Holt</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DONNAY, Maurice<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Gimlet</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>Dec.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +DORAN, Marie<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Girls Over Here</span>. p 8w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DOREY, J. Milnor<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Under Conviction</span>. d 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +DOWSON, Ernest<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pierrot of the Minute</span>. f 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DOWN, Oliphant<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Maker of Dreams</span>. f 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Quod Wrangle</span>. c 5m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DOYLE, A. C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Waterloo</span>. p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Duet</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DRACHMAN, Holgar<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">"Renaissance."</span> d 6m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DRAKE, Frank C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Roseberry Shrub</span>. p 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DREISER, Theodore<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Plays of the Natural and Supernatural</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Girl in the Coffin</span>. p 4m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Blue Sphere</span>. f 4m 2w 2j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Laughing Gas</span>. f 6m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">In the Dark</span>. f 11m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Spring Recital</span>. f 9m 9w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Light in the Window</span>. f 9m 7w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Old Ragpicker</span>. f 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Seven plays in one <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'volumn'">volume</ins> <span class="ralign"><i>Lane</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DREW, Sylvan<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The New Pygmalion and Galatea</span>. c 3m 6w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DREYFUS, A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Silent System</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +DRISCOLL, Louise<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Poor House</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Child of God</span>. p 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Seven Arts</i>, <i>Nov.</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +DUNSANY, Lord. <span class="smcap">Five Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Gods of the Mountain</span>. p 10i</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Golden Doom</span>. p 11m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Glittering Gate</span>. c 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">King Argimenes</span>. p 10m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Lost Silk Hat</span>. c 5m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Plays of Gods and Men</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">A Night at an Inn</span>. p 8m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Queen's Enemies</span>. p 9m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Tents of the Arabs</span>. p 6m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Laughter of the Gods</span>. p 9m 4w Three acts</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Luce</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Murderess</span>. In prep.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fame and the Poet</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Atlantic</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +DYMOW, Ossip<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Nju</span>. t 6m 3w 2j <span class="ralign"><i>Knopf</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +EARLE, Dorothy Kirchner<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">You're Such a Respectable Person, Miss Morrison</span>. c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +EBNER-ESCHENBACH, Marie von<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Man of the World</span>. p 3m <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ECHEGARAY, Jose<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Street Singer</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Madman Or Saint</span>. p 7m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +EDGERTON, Lady Alex.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Masque of the Two Strangers</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Gowans</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ELDRIDGE, Paul<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Jest</span>. p 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>July</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +ELKINS, Felton B. <span class="smcap">Three <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'Tremendour'">Tremendous</ins> Trifles</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Belgian Baby</span>. c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Quick and the Dead</span>. c 5m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Figuratively Speaking</span>. c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'volumn'">volume</ins> <span class="ralign"><i>Duffield</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ELLIS, Mrs. Havelock. <span class="smcap">Love in Danger</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Subjection of Kezia</span>. p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Pixy</span>. p 3m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Mothers</span>. p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Houghton</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ENANDER, Hilma L.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In the Light of the Stone</span>. p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Man Who Did Not Understand</span>. p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">On the Trail</span>. p 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ERVINE, St. John. Four Irish Plays<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Magnanimous Lover</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Critics</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mixed Marriage</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Orange Man</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ESKIL, Ragna<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In the Trenches Over There</span>. c 10m 6w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ESMOND, H. V.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Her Vote</span>. c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ESTERBROOK, Anne L.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Christening Robe</span>. p 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +EURIPIDES<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Alkestis</span>. Nine characters <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Electra</span>. Nine characters</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Frogs</span>. Twelve characters</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Iphigenia in Taurus</span>. Seven characters</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Translated by Gilbert Murray Allen</span><br /> +<br /> +EVANS, Florence Wilkinson. <span class="smcap">The Ride Home</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Marriage of Guineth</span>. p 7m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Houghton</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +EVREINOV, Nicholas<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Theatre of the Soul</span>. f 5m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Henderson</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Merry Death</span>. c 5m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Beautiful Despot</span>. c 5m 3w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays; in Bechofer: Five Russian Plays</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +FAYDON, Nita<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Great Look</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FENN, Frederick<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Nelson Touch</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Convict on the Hearth</span>. c 6m 5w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FERGUSON, J. A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Campbell of Kilmhor</span>. p 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FERRIER, Paul<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Codicil</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FERRIS, E., and STUART, A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Nicolete</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FEUILLET, Octave<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Fairy</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Village</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FIELD, Rachel L.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Rise Up, Jennie Smith</span>.</span><br /> +<br /> +FILLMORE, J. E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">"War."</span> p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FITZMAURICE, George<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Magic Glasses</span>. p 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Piedish</span>. p 4m 2w 3j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Dandy Dolls</span>. p 4m 2w 3j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With two long plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FLANNER, Hildegarde<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mansions</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FLANNER, Mary H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Christmas Burglar</span>. p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FLEXNER, Hortense<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Voices</span>. p 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Seven Arts</i>, <i>Dec.</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +FLORIAN, J. P.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Twins of Bergamo</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +FLYING STAG PLAYS. Arens, 1917-19<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Cronyn, G.</span> <span class="smcap">The Sandbar Queen</span>. d 6m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Oppenheim, J.</span> <span class="smcap">Night</span>. d 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dell, F.</span> <span class="smcap">The Angel Intrudes</span>. c 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Helburn, T.</span> <span class="smcap">Enter the Hero</span>. c 1m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moeller, P.</span> <span class="smcap">Two Blind Beggars and One Less Blind</span>. p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">O'Brien, S.</span> <span class="smcap">Blind</span>. c 3m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Davies, M. C.</span> <span class="smcap">The Slave With Two Faces</span>. a 3m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Kemp, H.</span> <span class="smcap">The Prodigal Son</span>. c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Rostetter, Alice</span>. <span class="smcap">The Widow's Veil</span>.</span><br /> +<br /> +FRANCE, Anatole<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Man Who Married a Dumb Wife</span>. Two acts. c 14m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Lane</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Crainquebille</span>. Three scenes. p 12m 6w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FRANK, Florence Kiper<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jael</span>. <span class="ralign"><i>Chicago</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Cinderelline</span>. p 1m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Garden</span>. p 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Nov.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +FREDERICK, John T.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Hunter</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>Sept.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +FREYBE, C. E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In Garrison</span>. p 5m <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FROOME, John Redhead<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Listening</span>. p 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Mainwaring's Management</span>. Two acts. c <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Billy and the Directing Fates</span>. Two acts. p 3m <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FRY, Horace B.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Little Italy</span>. d 2m 1w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FULDA, Ludwig<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">By Ourselves</span>. c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +FURNISS, Grace L.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Dakota Widow</span>. c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Perhaps</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +GALBRAITH, Esther<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Brink of Silence</span>. p 4m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In Mayorga's "Representative One-Act Plays" <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GALLON, Tom, and LION, L. M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Man Who Stole the Castle</span>. p 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GALSWORTHY, John. <span class="smcap">The Little Man</span>, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Little Man</span>. s 5m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hallmarked</span>. s 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Little Dream</span>. An allegory in six scenes <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GARLAND, Robert<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">At Night All Cats Are Gray</span>. p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>March</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Double Miracle</span>. p 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Forum</i>, <i>April</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +GERSTENBERG, Alice<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Overtones</span>. <i>See</i> "Washington Square Plays."</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Byond</span>. p 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In Mayorga's "Representative One-Act Plays" <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GIACOSA, Giuseppe. <span class="smcap">The Stronger</span>, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sacred Ground</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Wager</span>. c 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rights of the Soul</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +GIBSON, Preston<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">S.O.S.</span> p 8m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Derelicts</span>. p 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Suicides</span>. p 2m <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Secret Way</span>. p 3m <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Vacuum</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Cupid's Tricks</span>. c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GIBSON, Wilfred Wilson<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Womenkind</span>. d 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The following volumes of Mr. Gibson's are replete with</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">short, intensely dramatic sketches of English labor folk.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Daily Bread</span>. <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Borderlands and Thoroughfares</span>. <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fires</span>. <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GILBERT, W. S.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sweethearts</span>. Two acts. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Rosencrantz and Guildenstern</span>. c 5m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Comedy and Tragedy</span>. d 14m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GLASPELL, Susan<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Trifles</span>. p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The People</span>. p 10m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Close the Book</span>. c 3m 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Outside</span>. p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Woman's Honor</span>. c 3m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bernice</span> (3 Acts). p 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Suppressed Desires</span>. c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tickless Time</span>. c 2m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In One Vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Small</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GLICK, Carl<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Outclassed</span>. c 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Sept.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +GLICK, C., and HIGHT, M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Police Matron</span>. d 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GOLDBERG, Isaac<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Better Son</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>Oct.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +GOODMAN, Kenneth Sawyer<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Back of the Yards</span>. d 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dust of the Road</span>. d 4m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ephraim and the Winged Bear</span>. c 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Game of Chess</span>. d 4m <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Barbara</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dancing Dolls</span>. p 4m 7w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Man Can Only Do His Best</span>. c 6m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GOODMAN, K. S.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Green Scarf</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GOODMAN, K. S., and HECHT, Ben<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Hero of Santa Maria</span>. c 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Wonder Hat</span>. f 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GOODMAN, K. S., and STEVENS, T. W.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Holbein in Blackfriars</span>. c 6m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ryland</span>. c 5m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Reinald and the Red Wolf</span>. m <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Caesar's Gods</span>. m <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Daimio's Head</span>. m <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Masque of Quetzal's Bowl</span>. m <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Masque of Montezuma</span>. m <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GORDON, Leon. Three Plays <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span><br /> +<br /> +GOULD, Felix. <span class="smcap">The Marsh Maiden</span>, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Marsh Maiden</span>. p 2m 2w supers</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Stranger</span>. p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In the Marshes</span>. p 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">de</span> GOURMONT, Remy<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Theodat</span>. p 7m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Old King</span>. p 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays in one number <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>May</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +GRAHAM, Bertha M. <span class="smcap">Spoiling the Broth</span>, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Spoiling the Broth</span>. c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Land of the Free</span>. p 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Oh, the Press</span>. c 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rose With a Thorn</span>. c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Taffy's Wife</span>. p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Chapman & Hall</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GROSSMITH, Weedon<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Commission</span>. c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GRAY, Eunice T.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Winning of Fuji</span>. c 3 scenes 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GREENE, Clay M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Dispensation</span>. p 4m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Star of Bethlehem</span>. p 5m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Through Christmas Bells</span>. p 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Awakening of Barbizon</span>. c 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Doran</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GREGORY, Lady<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Spreading the News</span>. c 7m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hyacinth Halvey</span>. c 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Rising of the Moon</span>. c 4m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Jackdaw</span>. c 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Workhouse Ward</span>. c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Traveling Man</span>. p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The <i>Gaol</i> Gate</span>. p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Seven plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Luce</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Image</span>. Three acts. p 5m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Maunsel</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Grania</span>. Three acts. p 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Kincora</span>. Three acts. p 8m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dervorgilla</span>. p 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Putnam</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Canavans</span>. Three acts. p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The White Cockade</span>. Three acts. p 10m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Deliverers</span>. p 6m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Putnam</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bogie Man</span>. c 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Full Moon</span>. c 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Coats</span>. c 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Damer's Gold</span>. c 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">McDonough's Wife</span>. c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Putnam</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GREGORY, Lady, and YEATS, Wm. B.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Unicorn from the Stars</span>. <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GUIMERA, Angel<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Old Queen</span>. p 7m 7w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GYALUI, Wolfgang<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">After the Honeymoon</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +GYP<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Little Blue Guinea-Hen</span>. c 5m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +HAGEDORN, Herman<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Makers of Madness</span>. Five scenes. d 14m supers <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Horse Thieves</span>. c 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Harvard</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Heart of Youth</span>. <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HALE, Louise Closser<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Other Woman</span>. p 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>June</i>, 1911</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Paste Cut Paste</span>. p 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Jan.</i>, 1912</span></span><br /> +<br /> +HALMAN, Doris<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Will 'o the Wisp</span>. p 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In Mayorga's "Representative One-Act Plays" <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HALSEY, Forrest<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Empty Lamp</span>. p 1m 1w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>May</i>, 1911</span></span><br /> +<br /> +HAMILTON, Cicely<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jack and Jill and a Friend</span>. Two scenes. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HAMILTON, C., and ST. JOHN, Christopher<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">How the Vote Was Won</span>. c 2m 8w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HAMILTON, Cosmo. Short plays for small stages<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">St. Martin's Summer</span>. c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Soldier's Daughters</span>. c 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Toller's Wife</span>. c 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Why Cupid Came to Earl's Court</span>. c 3m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Skeffington</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jerry and a Sunbeam</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Aubrey Closes the Door</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HANKIN, St. John<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Constant Lover</span>. p 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Vol. III. No. 2 <span class="ralign"><i>Theatre Arts</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HARE, W. B.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Isosceles</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HARVARD PLAYS. <span class="smcap">The 47 Workshop</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Field, R. L.</span> <span class="smcap">Three Pills in a Bottle</span>. f 5m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Osborne, H.</span> <span class="smcap">The Good Men Do</span>. c 3m 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pillot, E.</span> <span class="smcap">Two Crooks and a Lady</span>. p 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Prosser, W.</span> <span class="smcap">Free Speech</span>. c 7m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Brentano</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Harvard Dramatic Club</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hawkbridge, W.</span> <span class="smcap">The Florist Shop</span>. c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Brock, H.</span> <span class="smcap">The Bank Account</span>. p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Smith, R. C.</span> <span class="smcap">The Rescue</span>. p 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Andrews, K.</span> <span class="smcap">America Passes By</span>. p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Brentano</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Harvard Dramatic Club</span>. 2nd Series</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Bray, L. W.</span> <span class="smcap">Harbor of Lost Ships</span>. p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Bates, E. W.</span> <span class="smcap">Garafelia's Husband</span>. p 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Bishop, F.</span> <span class="smcap">Scales and the Sword</span>. d 6m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Kinkead, C.</span> <span class="smcap">The Four Flushers</span>. c 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Brentano</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HASLETT, H. H. <span class="smcap">Dolores of the Sierra</span>, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dolores of the Sierra</span>. p 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Scoop</span>. p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Undercurrents</span>. p 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Modern Menace</span>. c 3m 1w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Inventor</span>. p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">When Love Is Blind</span>. c 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Elder</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HASTINGS, Basil McDonald<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Twice One</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Jan.</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<br /> +HAUPTMANN, Gerhart<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Assumption of Hannelle</span>. Two parts. p 7m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HAWKRIDGE, Winifred<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Price of Orchids</span>. c 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Oct.</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +HAY, Ian. <i>See</i> BEITH, Ian Hay<br /> +<br /> +HEAD, Cloyd<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Grotesques</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Poetry</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HEIDENSTAM, Verner von. Translated by K. M. Knudsen<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Soothsayer</span>. In prep. <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Birth of God</span>. In prep. <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HENNIQUE, Leon<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Death of the Duc D'Enghien</span>. d Three scenes. 22m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HENRY, R.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Norah</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HERTZ, H. Translated by T. Martin<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">King Rene's Daughter</span>. d 6m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HERVIEU, Paul<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Modesty</span>. c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HENSLOWE, Leonard<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Perfidious Marriage</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Hero for a Husband</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">People from the Past</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Stanley Paul</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HELLEM, Valcos, and D'ESTOC<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sabotage</span>. d 2m 2w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatist</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HICKS, Seymour<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">New Sub</span>. c 8m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HILBERT, Jaroslav<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Whom the Gods Destroy</span>. d 12m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOFFMAN, <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'Pheobe'">Phoebe</ins><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Martha's Mourning</span>. p 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">von</span> <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'HOFFMANSTHALL'">HOFMANNSTHAL</ins>, Hugo<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Death and the Fool</span>. d 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Madonna Dianora</span>. <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Death of Titian</span>. In prep. <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOGG, C. W.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mirror of Time</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOLLEY, Horace. Read aloud plays<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nine short plays <span class="ralign"><i>Kennerley</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ellen</span>. p 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>March</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOLT, Florence Taber<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">They the Crucified</span>. p 7m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Comrades</span>. p 7m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Houghton</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOME, Ian<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Dream on Christmas Eve</span>. 10j <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOPKINS, Arthur<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moonshine</span>. p 2m Vol. III. No. 1 <span class="ralign"><i>Theatre Arts</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOUGHTON, Stanley. Five one-act plays<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Dear Departed</span>. c 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fancy Free</span>. c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Master of the House</span>. p 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Phipps</span>. c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Fifth Commandment</span>. p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Dear Departed</span>. c 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fancy Free</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOUSMAN, Lawrence<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">As Good as Gold</span>. p 7m <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bird in Hand</span>. c <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Likely Story</span>. c <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lord of the Harvest</span>. p 6m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Nazareth</span>. I 13m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Snow Man</span>. p 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Return of Alcestis</span>. p 15m 20w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOWARD, Bronson<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Old Love Letters</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOWARD, Homer H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Child in the House</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HOWARD, Keble<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Compromising Martha</span>. c 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dramatist at Home</span>. p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Come Michaelmas</span>. p 2m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Martha the Soothsayer</span>. c 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HUDSON, Holland<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Shepherd in the Distance</span>. 10 characters <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HUTCHINS, Will<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jeanne d'Arc at Vaucouleurs</span>. d 5m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +HYDE, Douglas<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Twisting of the Rope</span>. c 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +IGLESIAS, Ignacio<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Cemetery</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +INDIAN PLAYS. By Helen P. Kane<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Yot-che-ke, the Erie</span>. p 5j <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Yagowanea</span>. p 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Capture of Ozah</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +IRVING, Laurence<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Phoenix</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +IZUMO, Takeda<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Pine Tree</span>. d 4m 3w 4j <span class="ralign"><i>Duffield</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sometimes called <span class="smcap">Bushido</span>, <span class="smcap">Matsuo</span>, etc.</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +JACOBS, W. W., and HUBBARD, P. E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Love Passage</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JACOBS, W. W., and ROCK, Charles<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Ghost of Jerry Bundler</span>. p 7m <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Grey Parrot</span>. p 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JACOBS, W. W., and MILLS, Horace<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Admiral Peters</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JACOBS, W. W., and PARKER, L. N.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Monkey's Paw</span>. d 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JACOBS, W. W., and SERGENT, H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Changeling</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Boatswain's Mate</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In the Library</span>. c <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JAGENDORF, Moritz<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Blue Morning Glory</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>International</i>, <i>Mar.</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<br /> +JAKOBI, Paula<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Chinese Lily</span>. p 8w <span class="ralign"><i>Forum</i>, <i>Nov.</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +JAMACOIS, Eduardo. In "Contemporary Spanish Dramatists."<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Passing of the Magi</span>. p 7m 5w <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JAPANESE PLAYS<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Stopes, Marie C.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Izumo, Takeda</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pound, Ezra</span>, and <span class="smcap">Fenollosa, Ernest</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Noguchi, Yone</span>, <span class="smcap">Ten Noh Dramas</span></span><br /> +<br /> +JENKS, Tudor<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dinner at Seven Sharp</span>. c 5m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JENNINGS, E. M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Oakley's Telephone</span>. c 4w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dinner at the Club</span>. c 9w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Prinzessen Von Barnhof</span>. c 8w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tom's Fiancee</span>. Two acts. c 5w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JENNINGS, Gertrude<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rest Cure</span>. c 1m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Between the Soup and the Savoury</span>. c 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Pros and Cons</span>. c 1m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Acid Drops</span>. p 1m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Sidgwick</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Between the Soup and the Savoury</span>. c 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JEROME, Jerome K.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sunset</span>. c 3m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Barbara</span>. d 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fennel</span>. d 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JEX, John. Passion playlets<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Violet Souls</span>. s 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Nest</span>. p 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mr. Willoughby Calls</span>. p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Unnecessary Atom</span>. p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Cornhill</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JOHNS, Orrick<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Shadow</span>. p 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Others</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JOHNSON, Martyn<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mr. and Mrs. P. Roe</span>. c 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Chicago</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +JONES, Henry Arthur. <span class="smcap">The Theatre of Ideas</span>, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Goal</span>. 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Herr Tongue</span>. 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Grace Mary</span>. 6m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Doran</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Clerical Error</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sweet Will</span>. p 1m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Deacon</span>. Two acts. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Harmony</span>. d 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bed of Roses</span>. c 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Elopement</span>. Two acts. c 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hearts of Oak</span>. Two acts. c 5m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +KALLEN, Horace M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Book of Job</span>. d <span class="ralign"><i>Moffatt Yard</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +KAUFMAN, S. Jay<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Kiss Es</span>. c 2m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Nov.</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +KEMP, Harry<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Prodigal Son</span>. c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Arens</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +KEMPER, S.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moth Balls</span>. p 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +KENNEDY, Charles Rann<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Terrible Meek</span>. p <span class="ralign"><i>Harper</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Necessary Evil</span>. p <span class="ralign"><i>Harper</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +KEYES, N. W.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Red-Cap</span>. Two acts. p 5m 10w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +KILMER, Joyce<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Some Mischief Still</span>. c 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<br /> +KING, Pendleton<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Coacaine</span>. p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +KINGSBURY, Sara<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Christmas Guest</span>. p 1m 3w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Nov.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +KINGSLEY, Ellis<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Other Woman</span>. d 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +KNOBLAUCH, Edward<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">a War Committee</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Little Silver Ring</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +KNOWLTON, A. R.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Why, Jessica!</span> c 1m 9w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +KNOX, F. C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Matrimonial Fog</span>. d 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +KRAFT, Irma<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Power of Purin</span> and other plays <span class="ralign"><i>Jewish Publication Soc.</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +KREYMBORG, Alfred<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">SIX<span class="smcap"> Plays for Poem-Mimes</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Others</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +LABICHE<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Grammar</span>. c 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Two Cowards</span>. c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LAIDLAW, A. H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Captain Walrus</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LANGER, Lawrence<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Another Way Out</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Broken Image</span>. d 7m <span class="ralign"><i>Arens</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Patent Applied for</span>. c 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Arens</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Wedded</span>. p <span class="ralign"><i>Little Review, No.</i> 8</span></span><br /> +<br /> +LAVEDAN, Henri. Five little plays<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Along the Quays</span>. p 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">For Ever and Ever</span>. p 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Where Shall We Go?</span> p 1m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Afternoon Walk</span>. p 1m 4j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Not at Home</span>. p 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one number <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Two Husbands</span>. p 2m <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sunday on Sunday Goes By</span>. p 3m <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LAWS, Anna C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Twice Told Tale</span>. p 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +LEACOCK, Stephen, and HASTINGS, Basil<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">"Q."</span> Farce <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LEE, Charles<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mr. Sampson</span>. c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Dent</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LEE, M. E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Black Death</span>, or Ta un. A Persian Tragedy. 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LEFUSE, M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">At the "golden Goose."</span> d 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LEHMAN, Adolph<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Tongman</span>. p 5m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Little Theatre, July</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +LELAND, Robert de Camp<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Purple Youth.</span> p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Barbarians.</span> p 6m <span class="ralign"><i>Poetry-Drama</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LENNOX, Cosmo<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Impertinence of the Creature.</span> c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LENT, Evangeline M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Love in Idleness.</span> c 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LESAGE<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Crispin, His Master's Rival.</span> c 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LESLIE, Noel. Three plays<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">For King and Country.</span> In prep.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Waste.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The War Fly.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LEVICK, Milnes<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Wings in the Mesh.</span> p 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, July</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +LEVINGER, E. E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Burden.</span> p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LEWISOHN, Ludwig<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Lie.</span> p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Dec.</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<br /> +LINCOLN, Florence<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Piece of Ivory.</span> p 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Harvard, April</i>, 1911</span></span><br /> +<br /> +LION, Leon M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Touch of a Child.</span> p <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LION, L. M., and HALL, W. S.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Mobswoman.</span> d 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LITTLE THEATRE CLASSICS. Edited by <span class="smcap">Samuel A. Eliot, Jr.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Euripides: Polyxena</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Christmas Miracle Play</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Marlowe: Doctor Faustus</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Beaumont</span> and <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>: <span class="smcap">Ricardo</span> and <span class="smcap">Viola</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sheridan: the Scheming Lieutenant</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Little Theatre Classics</span>. Second Series<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Abraham and Isaac</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Middleton: the Loathed Lover</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moliere: Sganarelle</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pichel, I. Pierre Pathelin</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LONDON, Jack. <span class="smcap">Turtles of Tasman</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The First Poet.</span> p <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LOVE IN A FRENCH KITCHEN.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Mediæval Farce.</span> c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +LUTHER, Lester<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Law.</span> 10 voices <span class="ralign"><i>Forum, June</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +M. J. W.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Brown Paper Parcel.</span> c 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MACINTIRE, E., and CLEMENTS, C. C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Ivory Tower.</span> p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MACDONALD, Zellah<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Markheim.</span> d 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In "Morningside Plays" <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MACKAYE, Constance D'Arcy<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Forest Princes and Other Masques </span> <span class="ralign"><i>Holt</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Beau of Bath and Other One-act Plays</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Holt</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Plays of the Pioneers</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Harper</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Silver Thread and Other Folk Plays</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Holt</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MACKAYE, Percy. <span class="smcap">Yankee Fantasies</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chuck.</span> 1m 3j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gettysburg.</span> 1m 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Antick.</span> 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Cat Boat.</span> 1m 2w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sam Average.</span> 4m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Duffield</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +McKINNEL, Norman<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bishop's Candlesticks.</span> p 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MACMILLAN, Mary. Short plays<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Shadowed Star.</span> p 3m 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Ring.</span> c 7m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rose.</span> p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Luck?</span> p 6m 7w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Entr'acte.</span> p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Woman's a Woman for a' That.</span> 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fan and Two Candlesticks.</span> p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Modern Masque.</span> p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Futurists.</span> p 8w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Gate of Wishes.</span> p 1m 1w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ten plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><span class="smcap">More Short Plays.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">His Second Girl.</span> p 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">At the Church Door.</span> p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Honey.</span> c 2m 3w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Dress Rehearsal of Hamlet.</span> c 10w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Pioneer.</span> p 10m 3w 5j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In Mendelesia, I.</span> p 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In Mendelesia, II.</span> p 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Dryad.</span> p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Eight plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Gate of Wishes.</span> p 1m 1w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MAETERLINCK, Maurice<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Intruder.</span> p 3m 5w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Interior.</span> p 4m 5w 1j supers <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Death of Tintagiles.</span> d 1j 6w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Happiness.</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Seven Princesses.</span> p 3m 8w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Alladine and Palomides.</span> 2m 7w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Miracle of St. Anthony</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Miracle of St. Anthony and Other Plays</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Miracle of St. Anthony.</span> 15 characters</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pelleas and Melisande.</span> Five acts</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Death of Tintagiles.</span> 7 Characters</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Alladine and Palomides.</span> Five acts</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Interior.</span> 10 Characters</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Intruder.</span> 7 Characters</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Boni & Liveright</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MALLESON, Miles<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Black 'Ell.</span> d 3m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Paddy Pools.</span> f 19j <span class="ralign"><i>Henderson</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Little White Thought.</span> f 9w <span class="ralign"><i>Henderson</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">"D" Company.</span> p 6m <span class="ralign"><i>Henderson</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Youth.</span> Three acts. p 9m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Henderson</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MANNERS, J. Hartley. <span class="smcap">Happiness and Other Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Happiness.</span> p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Just As Well.</span> c 1m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Day of Dupes.</span> c 5m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Dodd</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Queen's Messenger.</span> d 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Woman Intervenes.</span> p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Just As Well.</span> c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">As Once in May.</span> c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ministers of Grace.</span> p 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Sept.</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<br /> +MAPES, Victor<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Flower of the Yeddo.</span> c 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MARBLE, T. L.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Giuseppina.</span> p 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MARIVAUX<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Legacy.</span> <ins class="correction" title="original reads '3 4m'">c 4m</ins> 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MARKS, Jeanette. Three Welsh Plays<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Merry Cuckoo.</span> p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Welsh Honeymoon.</span> p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Deacon's Hat.</span> c 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Happy Thought.</span> p 4m 5w <span class="ralign"><i>International, July</i>, 1912</span></span><br /> +<br /> +MARTIN, John Joseph<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Wife of Usher's Well.</span> d 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MASEFIELD, John<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Locked Chest.</span> p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sweeps of Ninety-eight.</span> p 5m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Campden Wonder.</span> p 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Harrison.</span> p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In "The Tragedy of Nan," etc. <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Philip the King.</span> p 7m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Good Friday.</span> p <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MASSEY, Edward<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Plots and Playwrights.</span> c Nine scenes. 11m 6w <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MATHER, C. C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dispatches for Washington.</span> p 3m 5w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Double-crossed.</span> c 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<ins class="correction" title="original reads 'MATUSO'">MATSUO</ins>. <i>See</i> IZUMO, Takeda<br /> +<br /> +MATTHEWS, Brander<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Decision of the Court.</span> c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Harpers</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MAUREY, Max<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Rosalie.</span> c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +McCONNILL, G. K.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bone of Contention.</span> d 3m 8w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +McCOURT, Edna W.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jill's Way.</span> p 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Seven Arts, Feb.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Truth.</span> p 2m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Seven Arts, Mar.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +McEVOY, Charles<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">His Helpmate</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">David Ballard</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gentlemen of the Road</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lucifer</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">When the Devil Was Ill</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Bullen</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MCFADDEN, Elizabeth A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Why the Chimes Rang.</span> p 1m 1w 2j <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MEGRUE, Roi Cooper<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Double Cross.</span> p 3m <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Aug.</i>, 1911</span></span><br /> +<br /> +MEILHAC and HALEVY<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Panurge's Sheep.</span> c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Indian Summer.</span> c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MICHELSON, Miriam<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bygones.</span> p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, March</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +MIDDLETON, George. <span class="smcap">Embers</span>, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Embers</span>. d 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Failures</span>. d 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Gargoyle</span>. p 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In His House</span>. p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Man Masterful</span>. d 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Madonna</span>. d 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six plays in one <ins class="correction" title="original reads 'volumn'">volume</ins> <span class="ralign"><i>Holt</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Criminals</span>. d 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Huebsch</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tradition</span>, etc.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Tradition</span>. d 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">On Bail</span>. d 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Mothers</span>. d 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Waiting</span>. d 1m 1w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Their Wife</span>. d 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Cheat of Pity</span>. d 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Six plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Holt</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Possession</span>, etc.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Possession</span>. d 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Groove</span>. d 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Black Tie</span>. d 1m 2w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">A Good Woman</span>. d 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Circles</span>. d 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">The Unborn</span>. d 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Six plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Holt</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Back of the Ballot</span>. c 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Are published separately by Samuel French.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Among the Lions</span>. s 5m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Reason</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Sept.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">de</span> MILLE, William C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In 1999</span>. c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Food</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Poor Old Jim</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Deceivers</span>. p <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MILTON, John. Adapted by L. Chater<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Comus</span>. m Nine characters <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MOLIERE<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Doctor in Spite of Himself</span>. c 6m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Sicilian</span>. Two scenes. c 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Affected Young Ladies</span>. s 6m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sganarelle</span>. <i>See</i> Eliot: Little Theatre Classics</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gregory, Lady</span>. The Kiltartan Moliere</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Doctor in Spite of Himself</span>. 6m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Miser</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rogueries of Scapin</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Putnam</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MOELLER, Philip. <span class="smcap">Five Somewhat Historical Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Helena's Husband</span>. c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Little Supper</span>. c 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sisters of Susannah</span>. c 5m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Roadhouse in Arden</span>. c 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pokey</span>. c 6m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Knopf</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Two Blind Beggars and One Less Blind</span>. p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Arens</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MONTAGUE, Harold<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Proposing by Proxy</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MONTOMASA<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sumida Gawa</span>. d 2m 1w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>Jan.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +MORGAN, Charles D.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Search Me!</span> c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Jan.</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +MORNINGSIDE PLAYS, The<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Depue, Elva.</span> <span class="smcap">Hattie</span>. d 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Briggs, Caroline.</span> <span class="smcap">One a Day</span>. c 5m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Macdonald, Z.</span> <span class="smcap">Markheim</span>. d 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Reizenstein, E. L.</span> <span class="smcap">Home of the Free</span>. c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Frank Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MORRISON, Arthur<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">That Brute Simmons</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MOSHER, John Chapin<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sauce for the Emperor</span>. c 5m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MOTHER, Charles C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dispatches for Washington</span>. p 4m 5w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MOTHER GOOSE, A DREAM OF<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By <span class="smcap">J. C. Marchant</span>, <span class="smcap">S. J. Mayhew</span>, <span class="smcap">H. Wilbur</span> and others.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Containing A Dream of Mother Goose;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Scenes from Mother Goose;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A Mother Goose Party;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Two Mother Goose Operettas <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MOYLE, Gilbert<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Tragedy </span> <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MUGGERIDGE, Marie<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rest Cure</span>. p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MURRAY, T. C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Birthright</span>. Two acts. d 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Maunsel</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +MUSKERRY, William<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">An Imaginary Aunt</span>. c 4w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">de</span> MUSSET, Alfred. <span class="smcap">Barberine and other Comedies</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Barberine</span>. Three acts. 5m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fantasio</span>. Two acts. 8m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">No Trifling With Love</span>. Three acts. 4m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Door Must Be Open Or Shut</span>. 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Caprice</span>. 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">One Cannot Think of Everything.</span> 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Sergel</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">de MUSSET, A.</span>, and <span class="smcap">AUGIER, E.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Green Coat.</span> c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Napoleon and the Sentry.</span> p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +NARODNY, Ivan<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fortune Favors Fools.</span> c 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +NATHAN, George Jean<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Eternal Mystery.</span> p 2m 1w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +NATHAN, Robert G.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Coward.</span> p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Harvard, March</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Atoms.</span> p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Harvard, Nov.</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<br /> +NEIHARDT, John G.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Eight Hundred Rubles.</span> p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Forum, Mar.</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +NEVITT, Mary Ross<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rostof Pearls.</span> p 7w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +NEWTON, H. L.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Outwitted.</span> p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Her Second Time on Earth.</span> c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +NIRDLINGER, C. F. Four short plays<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Look After Louise.</span> d 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Big Kate.</span> d 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Real People.</span> d 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Aren't They Wonders.</span> d 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Kennerley</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Washington's First Defeat.</span> c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +NOGUCHI, Yone<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Demon's Shell.</span> p 2m <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ten Japanese Noh Plays.</span> In prep. <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +NORMAND, Jacques<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Drop of Water.</span> c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +NORTON, Harold F.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Woman.</span> p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Sheffield, June</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +O'BRIEN, Edward J.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">At the Flowing of the Tide.</span> p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Forum, Sept.</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<br /> +O'BRIEN, Seumas. <span class="smcap">Duty and Other Irish Comedies</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Duty.</span> c 5m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jurisprudence.</span> c 9m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Magnanimity.</span> c 5m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Matchmakers.</span> c 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Retribution.</span> c 3m 1w Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +OFFICER, Katherine<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">All Souls' Eve.</span> p 3m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>International, Jan.</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<br /> +OLIVER, Mary Scott. <span class="smcap">Six One-act Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Hand of the Prophet.</span> p 5m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Children of Granada.</span> p 6m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Turtle Dove.</span> p 5m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">This Youth—Gentlemen</span>! f 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Striker.</span> p 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Murdering Selina.</span> c 5m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +O'NEILL, Eugene. <span class="smcap">Thirst and Other One-Act Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Thirst.</span> p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Web.</span> p 5m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Warnings.</span> p 5m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fog.</span> p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Recklessness.</span> p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bound East for Cardiff.</span> d 11m <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Before Breakfast.</span> d 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">THE MOON OF THE CARIBBEES</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moon of the Caribbees.</span> p 17m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bound East for Cardiff.</span> p 11m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Long Voyage Home.</span> p 8m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In the Zone.</span> p 9m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ile.</span> p 5m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Where the Cross Is Made.</span> p 6m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rope.</span> p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Seven plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Boni & Liveright</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +OPPENHEIM, James<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Pioneer.</span> Two scenes. d 5m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Huebsch</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Night.</span> p 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Arens</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +O'SHEA, Monica Barrie<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rushlight.</span> p <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +OVERSTREET, H. A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hearts To Mend.</span> 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +OWEN, Harold<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Little Fowl Play.</span> c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +PAIN, Mrs. Barry. <span class="smcap">Nine of Diamonds and Other Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Nine of Diamonds</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Her Ladyship's Jewels.</span> c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Marlowe's Case.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>London, Chapman</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Short Plays for Amateurs</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Hat.</span> c 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Lesson in Pearls.</span> c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Thirteen.</span> c -m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Trust</span>. c 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Vicious Circle</span>. c 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>London</i>, <i>Pinker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">More Short Plays</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Lady Typist</span>. c 1m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Quick Change</span>. Two scenes. c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Reason Why</span>. c 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">'Ware Wire</span>. c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Chapman</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PALMER, John<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Over the Hills</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>June</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +PARAMORE, E. E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Across the Marsh</span>. p 2m <span class="ralign"><i>Sheffield</i>, <i>April</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +PARKER, Louis N. <i>See also</i> JACOBS,W. W.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Man in the Street</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PARKHURST, Winthrop.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">It Never Happens</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Dec.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Importance of Being Early</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Nov.</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Morraca</span>. p 7m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Nov.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Beggar and the King</span>. p 3m <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Getting Unmarried</span>. p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>April</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +PASTON, George<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Feed the Brute</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Stuffing</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tilda's New Hat</span>. c 1m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Parent's Progress</span>. c 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PATRICK, A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jimmy</span>. p 2m</span><br /> +<br /> +PAULL, H. M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hal, the Highwayman</span>. p 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PEABODY, Josephine Preston<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fortune and Men's Eyes</span>. p 8m 2w i <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Wings</span>. p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PEARCE, Walter<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">1588</span>. c 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PEMBERTON, Max<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Prima Donna</span>. c 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lights Out</span>. c 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PHELPS, P., and SHORT, M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Saint Cecilia</span>. p 1m 7w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PHILLPOTTS, Eden. <span class="smcap">Curtain Raisers</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Point of View</span>. c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hiatus</span>. c 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Carrier Pigeon</span>. d 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Brentano</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pair of Knickerbockers</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Breezy Morning</span>. c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PHILLPOTTS, Eden, and GROVES, Charles<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Their Golden Wedding</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PIAGGIO, E. E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">At the Play</span>. p <span class="ralign"><i>London</i>, <i>Williams</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PICHEL, Irving<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tom, Tom, the Piper's Son</span>. p 3m <span class="ralign"><i>Harvard</i>, <i>Dec.</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<br /> +PILLOT, E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hunger</span>. f 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>June</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Gazing Globe</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>Nov.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +PINERO, Sir Arthur Wing<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Playgoers</span>. c 2m 6w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Widow of Wasdale Head</span>. d <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>May</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hester's Mystery</span>. c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Money Spinner</span>. Two acts. d 5m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PINSKI, David <i>See</i> Six Plays for the Yiddish Theatre<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Dollar</span>. c 5m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>June</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Michael</span>. p 4m <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>April</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +PORTMANTEAU PLAYS. See WALKER, Stuart<br /> +<br /> +PORTO-RICHE, G. In Clark: Four Plays, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Francoise's Luck</span>. c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<br /> +PLAUTUS<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Twins</span>. c 7m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PICARD, L. B.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rosebud</span>. c 5m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +POUND, Ezra, and FENOLLOSA, Ernest<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">"Noh,"</span> or Accomplishment. A study of the Classical Stage of Japan. Contains</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Kayoi Komachi</span>. 3m i</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Suma Genji</span>. 3m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Kumasaka</span>. Two acts. 3m i</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Shojo</span>. 2m supers</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tahura</span>. 3m i</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">and others <span class="ralign"><i>Knopf</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PRESBERY, Eugene<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Courtship of Miles Standish</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PRICE, Graham<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Capture of Wallace</span>. p 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Song of the Seal</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Absolution of Bruce</span>. p 10m <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Marriages Are Made in Heaven</span>. <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PROVINCETOWN PLAYS. Edited by <span class="smcap">George Cram Cook</span> and <span class="smcap">Frank Shay</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Rostetter, Alice</span>. <span class="smcap">The Widow's Veil</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Oppenheim, James</span>. <span class="smcap">Night</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Cook and Glaspell</span>. <span class="smcap">Suppressed Desires</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">O'Neill, Eugene</span>. <span class="smcap">Bound East for Cardiff</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Millay, Edna St. Vincent</span>. <span class="smcap">Aria da Capo</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Wellman, Rita</span>. <span class="smcap">String of the Samisen</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Steele, Wilbur Daniel</span>. <span class="smcap">Not Smart</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hapgood</span> and <span class="smcap">Boyce</span>. <span class="smcap">Enemies</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">King, Pendleton</span>. <span class="smcap">Coacaine</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PRYCE, Richard<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Visit</span>. p 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PRYCE, R., and MORRISON A.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dumb-Cake</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PRYCE, R., and DRURY, W. P.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Privy Council</span>. c 3m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PRYDZ, Alvilde<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">He Is Coming</span>. p 1m 5w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +PUTNAM, Nina Wilcox<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Orthodoxy</span>. p <span class="ralign"><i>Kennerley</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +QUINTERO, Serafino, and JOAQUIN, Alvarez<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Bright Morning</span>. c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">By Their Words Ye Shall Know Them</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +RANCK, Edwin C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Yellow Boots</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>May</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +RANDALL, William R.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Grey Overcoat</span>. p 3m <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +REED, John<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Freedom</span>. c 6m <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moondown</span>. p 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Masses</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Peace that Passeth Understanding</span>. f 12 characters <span class="ralign"><i>Liberator</i>, <i>March</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +REELY, Mary Katherine<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Daily Bread</span>. p 1m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Window to the South</span>. p 5m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Lean Years</span>. p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>H. W. Wilson</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +REIZENSTEIN, Elmer L.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Home of the Free</span>. c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In "Morningside Plays" <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +RENARD, Jules<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Good-bye!</span> c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>June</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +RENARD, Jules. Translated by Alfred Sutro<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Carrots</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +REPRESENTATIVE ONE-ACT PLAYS BY AMERICAN AUTHORS<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Selected, with biographical notes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">by Margaret Gardiner Mayorga, M. A. <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +RICE, Cale Young. <span class="smcap">The Immortal Lure</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Giorgione</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Arduin</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">O-Ume's Gods</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Immortal Lure</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Doubleday</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Night in Avignon</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In "Collected Plays and Poems" <span class="ralign"><i>Doubleday</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +RICHARDSON, Frank<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bonnie Dundee</span>. d 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +RIVOIRE, Andre<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Little Shepherdess</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ROBINS, Gertrude. <span class="smcap">Loving As We Do</span>, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Loving As We Do</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Return</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">After the Case</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">'ilda's Honourable</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Werner Laurie</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Makeshifts</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Realities</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pot Luck</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ROGERS, Maude M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">When the Wheels Run Down</span>. p 3m <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ROGERS, Robert E.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Behind a Watteau Picture</span>. f 6m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ROOF, Katherine<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The World Beyond the Mountain</span>. p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>International</i>, <i>Nov.</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<br /> +ROSENBERG, James N.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Return to Mutton</span>. Two acts. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Kennerley</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ROSS, Clarendon<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Avenger</span>. f 2m <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +RUSCHKE, Edmont W. <span class="smcap">The Echo</span>, etc.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Echo</span>. c 5m 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Death Speaks</span>. f 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Intangible</span>. d 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one vol <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +RUSINOL, Santiago<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Prodigal Doll</span>. c 5m 6w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +SARDOU, Victorien<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Black Pearl</span>. c 7m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SARGENT, Frederick Leroy<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Omar and the Rabbi</span>. In prep. <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SARKADI, Leo<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Vision of Paganini</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>International</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Passing Shadow</span>. p 2m <span class="ralign"><i>International</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Line of Life</span>. p 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>International</i>, <i>Nov.</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +SAWYER, Ruth<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Sidhe of Ben-mor</span>. p 1m 6w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SCHMERTZ, John R.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Marksman</span>. p 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Sheffield</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<br /> +SCHNITZLER, Arthur. <span class="smcap">Comedies of Words</span>. Translated by Pierre Loving<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Hour of Recognition</span>. c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Big Scene</span>. c 5m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Festival of Bacchus</span>. c 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Literature</span>. c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">His Helpmate</span>. c 5m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Countess Mizzie</span>. c 7m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In volume with <span class="smcap">Lonely Way</span>, etc. <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Living Hours</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Woman with the Dagger</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Last Masks</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Literature</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gallant Cassian</span>. Puppet Play. 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Duke and the Actress</span>. c 16m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lady with the Dagger</span>. d 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SCOTT, Clement<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Cape Mail</span>. p 3m 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SCOTTISH REPERTORY PLAYS<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Maxwell, W. B.</span> <span class="smcap">The Last Man In</span>. p 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Brighouse, H.</span> <span class="smcap">The Price of Coal</span>. p 1m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chapin, H.</span> <span class="smcap">Augustus in Search of a Father</span>. p 3m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Colquhon, D.</span> <span class="smcap">Jean</span>. p 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Down, O.</span> <span class="smcap">The Maker of Dreams</span>. f 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chapin, H.</span> <span class="smcap">Dumb and the Blind</span>. p 2m 1w 2j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Brighouse, H.</span> <span class="smcap">Lonesome-like</span>. p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chapin, H.</span> <span class="smcap">Autocrat of the Coffee Stall</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chapin, H.</span> <span class="smcap">Muddle Annie</span>. p</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ferguson, J. A.</span> <span class="smcap">Campbell of Kilmhor</span>. p 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Kori, Torahiko</span>. <span class="smcap">Kanawa</span>, the Incantation. 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Brighouse, H.</span> <span class="smcap">Maid of France</span>. p 2m <span class="ralign"><i>Phillips</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SHAKESPEARE<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Oberon and Titania</span>, 12 characters <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SHAW, George Bernard<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">How He Lied to Her Husband</span>. c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Brentano</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Press Cuttings</span>. c 3m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Brentano</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dark Lady of the Sonnets</span>. c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Brentano</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Overruled</span>. p <span class="ralign"><i>Brentano</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Heartbreak House</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Great Catherine</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">O'Flatherty, C. V.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Inca of Perusalem</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Augustus Does His Bit</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bolshevik Princess</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Brentano</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SHAW, Mary<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Parrot Cage</span>. a 1m 7w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Woman of It</span>. c 9w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SHORES, Elsa. <i>See</i> BELMONT, Mrs.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O. H. P.</span><br /> +<br /> +SIERRA, Gregorio Martinez<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Lover</span>. c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford</i>, <i>July</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Love Magic</span>. c 4m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Cradle Song</span>. 3 Two acts. 4m 10w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SINCLAIR, Upton. Plays of Protest.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Second Story Man</span>. d 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Kennerley</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SOLOGUB, Feodor<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Triumph of Death</span>. Three short acts. d 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>Aug.</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +SOPHOCLES<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Antigone</span>. 11 characters <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SOTILLO, Antonio, and MICHO, Andres<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Judgment of Posterity</span>. p 5m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SPEYER, Lady<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Love Me, Love My Dog</span>. p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Jan.</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +SPRINGER, Thomas G.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Secrets of the Deep</span>. p 7m <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>June</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<br /> +STEELL, W.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">p 6m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +STERLING, George<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Dryad</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set</i>, <i>Feb.</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +STEVENS, Henry Bailey. <span class="smcap">A Cry Out in the Dark</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Meddler</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bolo and Babette</span>. In prep.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Madhouse</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Four Seas</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +STEVENS, Wallace<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Three Travelers Watch a Sunrise</span>. p 5m 1w i <span class="ralign"><i>Poetry</i>, <i>July</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +STEWART, Anna B.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Belles of Canterbury</span>.</span><br /> +<br /> +STEWART-KIDD MODERN PLAYS. Edited by <span class="smcap">Frank Shay</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tompkins, F. G.</span> <span class="smcap">Sham</span>. c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hudson, Holland</span>. <span class="smcap">The Shepherd in the Distance</span>. f 10 characters <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Flanner, Hildegarde</span>. <span class="smcap">Mansions</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Overstreet, H. A.</span> <span class="smcap">Hearts to Mend</span>. f 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +ST. HILL, T. N.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Duty</span>. p 2m <span class="ralign"><i>Sheffield</i>, <i>May</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +STRAMM, August<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bride of the Moor</span>. p 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sancta Susanna</span>. p 1m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays in one number <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +STRATTON, Charles<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Coda</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama</i>, <i>May</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +STRINDBERG, August<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">PLAYS. First Series</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Dream Play</span>. <span class="smcap">The Link</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Dance of Death</span>. Parts I and II</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">PLAYS. Second Series</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Creditors</span>. p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pariah</span>. p 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Miss Julia</span>. p 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Stronger</span>. p 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">There Are Crimes and Crimes</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lucky Pehr</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Easter</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">PLAYS. Third Series</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Swanwhite</span>. A Fairy Play. p 10m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Simoon</span>. p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Debit and Credit</span>. p 6m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Advent</span>. Three acts. p 7m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Thunderstorm</span>. p 8m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">After the Fire</span>. p 11m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">PLAYS. Fourth Series</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bridal Crown</span>. Six scenes. p 12m 8w others</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Spook Sonata</span>. p 7m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The First Warning</span>. c 1m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gustavus Vasa</span>. Five acts. d 20m 8w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four volumes <span class="ralign"><i>Scribners</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Stronger Woman</span>. p 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Motherly Love.</span> p 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Henderson</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Paria</span>. p 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Simoon</span>. p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Henderson</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Miss Julie</span>. p 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Henderson</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Creditor</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Henderson</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Outcast.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Simoon</span>. 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Debit and Christ</span>. p 6m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Julie</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Creditors</span>. p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Badger</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mother Love</span>. p 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Brown</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SUBERT, Frantisek Adolf<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jan Vyrava</span>. d 21m 11w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SUDERMANN, Herman. <span class="smcap">Roses</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Streaks of Light</span>. d 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Margot</span>. d 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Last Visit</span>. d 5m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Far-away Princess</span>. c 2m 7w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Morituri</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Teja</span>. d 7m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Fritzchen</span>. d 5m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Eternal Masculine</span>. p 5m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Johannes</span>. p 40i <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +SUTRO, Alfred. <span class="smcap">Five Little Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Man in the Stalls</span>. 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Marriage Has Been Arranged</span>. 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Man on the Kerb</span>. 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Open Door</span>. p 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bracelet</span>. c 5m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Brentano</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bracelet</span>. c 5m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Marriage Has Been Arranged</span>. 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Correct Thing</span>. p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ella's Apology</span>. p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Game of Chess.</span> p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Gutter of Time.</span> p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Maker of Men.</span> p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Man of the Kerb</span>. 1m <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Open Door.</span> p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mr. Steinmann's Corner.</span> p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Salt of Life.</span> p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Marriage Will Not Take Place.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<br /> +SYMONS, Arthur<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Cleopatra in Judea</span>. p 7m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Forum, June</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +SYNGE, John Millington<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Shadow of the Glen</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Luce</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Riders to the Sea</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Luce</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Tinker's Wedding</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Luce</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Deirdre of the Sorrows</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Luce</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +TARKINGTON, Booth<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Beauty and the Jacobin.</span> c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Harper</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +TERRELL, Maverick<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Honi Soit.</span> s 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Jan.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Temperament.</span> c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Sept.</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +TERRELL, Maverick, and STECHHAN, H. O.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Real "Q.</span>" c 3m <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Sept.</i>, 1911</span></span><br /> +<br /> +TCHEKOFF, Anton.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Plays.</span> First Series</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Swan Song.</span> p 2m <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Plays.</span> Second Series</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">On the High Road.</span> p 8m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Proposal.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Wedding.</span> c 7m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bear.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tragedian in Spite of Himself.</span> c 2m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Anniversary.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Scribner</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Bear.</span> c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Marriage Proposal.</span> c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>See</i> <span class="smcap">Bechhofer</span>. Five plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">On the Highmay.</span> d 6m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama, May</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +TENNYSON, Alfred Lord<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Falcon.</span> p 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Collected Works</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +TERENCE<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Phormio.</span> c 11m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +THEURIET, Jean<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jean Marie.</span> p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +THOMAS, Brandon<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Highland Legacy.</span> c 5m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lancashire Sailor.</span> p 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Colour Sergeant.</span> p 4m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +THOMAS, Kate<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">An Evening at Helen's.</span> p 7m <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Bit of Nonsense.</span> c 8w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +THOMPSON, Alice C. <span class="smcap">Plays For Women Characters</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Her Scarlet Slippers.</span> p 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Penn</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">An Irish Invasion.</span> c 8w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Knot of White Ribbon.</span> p 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Penn</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Luckiest Girl.</span> p 4w <span class="ralign"><i>Denison</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Much Too Sudden.</span> p 7w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Oysters.</span> c 6w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Wrong Baby.</span> c 8w <span class="ralign"><i>Penn</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +THOMPSON, Harlan<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">One by One.</span> 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, May</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Man Hunt.</span> c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, June</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pants and the Man.</span> c 5m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Nov.</i>, 1917</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Geometrically Speaking</span>. p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Nov.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +TOMPKINS, Frank G.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sham.</span> c 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +TORRENCE, Ridgely. <span class="smcap">Three Plays for the Negro Theatre</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Granny Maumee.</span> p 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Rider of Dreams.</span> p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Simon the Cyrenian.</span> p 10m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +TRADER, G. H.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap"><ins class="correction" title="original reads 'Shakerpeare's'">Shakespeare's</ins> Daughters.</span> f 11w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +TREE, H. B.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Six and Eightpence.</span> c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +TREVOR, Philip<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Under the Greenwood Tree.</span> p 2m 5w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Looking Glass.</span> p 7j <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +UKRAINKA, L.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Babylonian Captivity.</span> d 1m 7i</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In Bechofer: Five Russian Plays.</span><br /> +<br /> +URCHLICKY, Jaroslav<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">At the Chasm.</span> p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Poet Lore</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +VIERECK, Geo. S.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Game of Love.</span> p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Mood of a Moment.</span> p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">From Death's Own Eyes.</span> p 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Question of Fidelity.</span> p 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Butterfly.</span> p 2m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Moffat</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<small>VON</small> VIZEN, D.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Choice of a Tutor.</span> c 5m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In Bechofer: Five Russian Plays.</span><br /> +<br /> +VAN ETTEN, G.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Vampire Cat.</span> p 4m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Dramatic</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +WALKER, Stuart. <span class="smcap">The Portmanteau Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Trimplet.</span> c 2m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Nevertheless.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Six Who Pass While the Lentils Boil.</span> c 5m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Medicine Show.</span> c 3m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">MORE PORTMANTEAU PLAYS</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Lady of the Weeping Willow Tree</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Very Naked Boy</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jonathan Makes a Wish</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">PORTMANTEAU ADAPTATIONS</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gammer Gurton's Needle</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Wilde, O. The Birthday of the Infanta</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tarkington, Booth. Seventeen</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +WALKER, W. R.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Pair of Lunatics.</span> c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gentleman Jim.</span> 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +WALLACE, A. C.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chrysanthemums.</span> c 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +WARE, J. Herbert<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Measure of the Man.</span> p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Sheffield, June</i>, 1916</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WARREN, P., and HUTCHINS, W.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Day That Lincoln Died.</span> p 5m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Baker</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +WASHINGTON SQUARE PLAYS, THE<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Beach, L. The Clod.</span> p 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Goodman, E. Eugenically Speaking.</span> c 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gerstenberg, A. Overtones.</span> p 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moeller, P. Helene's Husband.</span> c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Doubleday</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Langer, L. Another Way Out.</span> c 2m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Glaspell, S. Trifles.</span> d 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Crocker, B. The Last Straw.</span> d 2m 1w 2j <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Andreyev, L. Love of One's Neighbor.</span> s 15m 7w <span class="ralign"><i>Shay</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Cronyn, G. The Sandbar Queen.</span> p 6m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Arens</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moeller, P. Two Blind Beggars,</span> etc. p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Arens</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Maeterlinck, M.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Interior</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Miracle of St. Anthony</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Death of Tintagiles.</span> <i>See</i> Author</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Reed, J. Moondown.</span> p 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Masses</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tchekow, A. The Bear.</span> c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Mackaye, P. the Antick.</span> <i>See</i> Author</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Schnitzler, A. Literature.</span> <i>See</i> Author</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moeller, P.</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Roadhouse in Arden</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Sisters of Susanna</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Pokey.</span> <i>See</i> Author</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Wedekind, F. The Tenor.</span> p 5m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, June</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Akins, Z. The Magical City.</span> p 7m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Forum, May, 1914.</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">de Brveys, D. A. Pierre Patelin.</span> c 7m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tchekov, A. The Sea Gull.</span> <i>See</i> Author</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Evreinov, N.</span> <i>See</i> Bechofer: Five Russian Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Porto-Riche. Lovers' Luck.</span> <i>See</i> Clark: Plays for the Free Theatre</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Izumo, T. The Pine Tree.</span> Bushido. <i>See</i> Author</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Massay, E. Plots and Playwrights.</span> c 11m 6w <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moliere. Sganarelle. Doctor in Spite of Himself.</span> <i>See</i> Author</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Strindberg, A. Pariah.</span> <i>See</i> Author</span><br /> +<br /> +WATTS, Mary S. <span class="smcap">Three Short Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">An Ancient Dance.</span> Two acts. p 6m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Civilization.</span> p 5m 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Wearin' O' the Green.</span> c 8m 7w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +WEDEKIND, Frank<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Tenor.</span> p 5m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, June</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WEIL, Percival L.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Culprit.</span> p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, Feb.</i>, 1913</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WELLMAN, Rita<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Lady With the Mirror.</span> a 2m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama, Aug.</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dawn.</span> p 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Drama, Feb.</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Funiculi Funiculi.</span> In Mayorga's</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Representative One-Act Plays" <span class="ralign"><i>Little</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +WELSH, Robert Gilbert<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jezebel.</span> p 6m 3w <span class="ralign"><i>Forum, May</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WENDT, Frederick W.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Des Irae.</span> p 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, July</i>, 1911</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WHITE, Lucy<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Bird Child.</span> p 2m 2w 1j <span class="ralign"><i>International, Nov.</i>, 1914</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WILCOX, Constance<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Told in a Chinese Garden.</span> p 10 characters <span class="ralign"><i>Drama, May</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WILDE, Oscar<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Salome.</span> d 11m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Several editions</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Birthday of the Infanta</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WILDE, Percival. <span class="smcap">Dawn and Other One-act Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dawn.</span> d 2m 1w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Noble Lord.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Traitor.</span> d 7m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The House of Cards.</span> p 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Playing With Fire.</span> c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Finger of God.</span> p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Holt</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Confessional.</span> p 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">According To Darwin.</span> p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Question of Morality.</span> c 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Beautiful Story.</span> p 1m 1w 1j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Villain of the Piece.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Five plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Holt</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Line of No Resistance.</span> c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Saved.</span> p 9m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, July</i>, 1915</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WILEY, Sara King<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Patriots.</span> c 3m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +WISCONSIN PLAYS<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">First Series</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gale, Z. The Neighbors.</span> d 2m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Dickinson, T. H. In Hospital.</span> c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Leonard, W. E. Glory of the Morning.</span> p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one vol. <span class="ralign"><i>Huebsch</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Second Series</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Illsey, S. M. Feast of the Holy Innocents.</span> p 5w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sherry, L. On the Pier.</span> p 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Jones, H. M. The Shadow.</span> p 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gilman, T. We Live Again.</span> p 6m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Four Plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Huebsch</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +WOLFF, Oscar M.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Where But in America.</span> c 1m 2w <span class="ralign"><i>Smart Set, March</i>, 1918</span></span><br /> +<br /> +WORLD'S BEST PLAYS, The. Edited by <span class="smcap">Barrett H. Clark</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Coppee, Francois. Pater Noster.</span> p 3m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Meilhac and Halevy. Indian Summer.</span> c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Maurey, Max. Rosalie.</span> c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hervieu, Paul. Modesty.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tchekof, Anton. A Marriage Proposal.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">de Musset and Augier. The Green Coat.</span> c 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Giacosa, Giuseppe. The Wager.</span> c 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Terrence. Phormio.</span> c 11m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Rivoire, Andre. The Little Sheperdess.</span> c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Plautus. The Twins.</span> c 7m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Sardou, Victorien. The Black Pearl.</span> c 7m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Tchekof, Anton. The Boor.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">De Banville, Theo. Charming Leander.</span> c 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Augier, Emile. The Post Scriptum.</span> c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moliere. The Doctor in Spite of Himself.</span> c 6m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">De Cailavet, G. A. Choosing A Career.</span> c</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bernard, Tristan. French Without a Master.</span> c 5m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Meilhac and Halevy. Panurge's Sheep.</span> c 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Benedix, Roderick. The Law Suit.</span> c 5m</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Benedix, Roderick. The Third Man.</span> c 1m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moliere. The Sicilian.</span> Two scenes. c 4m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Moliere. The Affected Young Ladies.</span> s 6m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bernard, Tristan. I'm Going!</span> c 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Feuillet, Octave. The Fairy.</span> c 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Feuillet, Octave. The Village.</span> c 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Labiche. Grammar.</span> c 4m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Labiche. The Two Cowards.</span> c 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Lesage. Crispin, His Master's Rival.</span> c 4m 3w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Marivaux. The Legacy.</span> c 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Gyalui, Wolfgang. After The Honeymoon.</span> c 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Bouchor, Maurice. A Christmas Tale.</span> p 2m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">France, Anatole. Crainquebille.</span> 3 scenes. p 12m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Theuriet, Andre. Jean Marie.</span> p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Picard, L. B. The Rebound.</span> c 5m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Aristophanes. Lysistrata.</span> s 4m 5w 1j</span><br /> +<span class="ralign"><i>Published by French</i></span><br /> +<br /> +WYNNE, Anna<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Broken Bars.</span> p 10m 10w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +YEATS, William Butler<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Countess Cathleen</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Land of Heart's Desire</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Shadowy Waters</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The King's Threshold</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">On Baile's Strand</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Deirdre</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Green Helmet</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Where There Is Nothing</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Hour Glass</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Cathleen In Houlihan</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Pot of Broth</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">In the Seven Woods</span> <span class="ralign"><i>Macmillan</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +YEHOASH<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Shunamite.</span> p 3m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>Stratford, June</i>, 1919</span></span><br /> +<br /> +YIDDISH THEATRE: SIX PLAYS FOR<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">First Series</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pinski, D. Abigail.</span> 7m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pinski, D. Forgotten Souls.</span> 1m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Aleichem, S. She Must Marry a Doctor.</span> 3m 4w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ash, S. Winter.</span> 1m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Ash, S. The Sinner.</span> 9m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hirschbein, P. In the Dark.</span> 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six plays in one volume.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Second Series</span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pinski, D. Little Heroes.</span> p 6j</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Pinski, D. The Stranger.</span> p 9m 6w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Hirschbein, P. On the Threshold.</span> p 4m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Levin, Z. Poetry and Prose.</span> p 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Kobrin, L. Black Sheep.</span> p 3m 2w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Kobrin, L. The Sweet of Life.</span> p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Huebsch</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +YOUNG, Stark. <span class="smcap">At the Shrine and other Plays</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Addio.</span> p 3m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Madretta.</span> p 2m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">At the Shrine.</span> p 1m 1w</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Three plays in one volume <span class="ralign"><i>Stewart</i></span></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +ZANGWILL, Israel<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Six Persons.</span> c 1m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Great Demonstration.</span> c 2m 1w <span class="ralign"><i>French</i></span></span><br /> +</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p class="noidt"><b>BIBLIOGRAPHIES</b></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Actable One-Act Plays</span> +<i>Chicago Public Library</i>, 1916</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Plays and Books of the Little +Theatre.</span> Compiled by Frank Shay.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A List of Plays and Pageants.</span> Prepared +by the Committee on Pageantry, +War Work Council, Young +Woman's Christian Associations. +1919.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Plays for Amateurs.</span> Arranged by +John Mantel Clapp. Drama League +of America. Chicago. 1915.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guide To Selecting Plays</span> for the use +of professionals and amateurs. By +Wentworth Hogg. <i>French.</i> 1916.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Dramatic Books and Plays.</span> An +annual compilation by Henry Eastman +Lower and George Heron +Milne. Boston Book Co.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2>A SELECTED LIST<br /> +<small>OF</small><br /> +DRAMATIC<br /> +LITERATURE</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<h4>PUBLISHED BY<br /> +STEWART & KIDD COMPANY<br /> +CINCINNATI</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<h3><i>Plays and Players</i></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Leaves From a Critic's Scrapbook</span></h4> + +<h4>BY WALTER PRICHARD EATON<br /> + +PREFACE BY BARRETT H. CLARK</h4> + + +<p>A new volume of criticisms of plays and papers on acting, +play-making, and other dramatic problems, by Walter +Prichard Eaton, dramatic critic, and author of "The +American Stage of To-day," "At the New Theater and +Others," "Idyl of the Twin Fires," etc. The new +volume begins with plays produced as far back as 1910, +and brings the record down to the current year. One section +is devoted to American plays, one to foreign plays +acted on our stage, one to various revivals of Shakespeare. +These sections form a record of the important +activities of the American theater for the past six years, +and constitute about half of the volume. The remainder +of the book is given over to various discussions of the +actor's art, of play construction, of the new stage craft, +of new movements in our theater, such as the Washington +Square Players, and several lighter essays in the satiric +vein which characterized the author's work when he was +the dramatic critic of the <i><b>New York Sun</b></i>. Unlike most +volumes of criticisms, this one is illustrated, the pictures of +the productions described in the text furnishing an additional +historical record. At a time when the drama is +regaining its lost position of literary dignity it is particularly +fitting that dignified and intelligent criticism and +discussion should also find accompanying publication.</p> + +<p><i><b>Toronto Saturday Night:</b></i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Mr. Eaton writes well and with dignity and independence. +His book should find favor with the more +serious students of the Drama of the Day.</p></div> + +<p><i><b>Detroit Free Press:</b></i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>This is one of the most interesting and also valuable +books on the modern drama that we have +encountered in that period popularly referred to as +"a dog's age." Mr. Eaton is a competent and well-esteemed +critic. The book is a record of the activities +of the American stage since 1910, down to the +present. Mr. Eaton succinctly restores the play to +the memory, revisualizes the actors, and puts the +kernel of it into a nutshell for us to ponder over and +by which to correct our impressions.</p></div> + + +<p class="alignl"><i>Large 12mo. About 420 pages, 10 full-page illustrations +on Cameo Paper and End Papers</i><br /> +<i>Gilt top. 3/4 Maroon Turkey Morocco</i></p> +<p class="alignr"><i>Net</i> $3.00<br /> +<i>Net</i> 8.50</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<h3><i>Four Plays of the Free Theater</i></h3> + +<p class="noidt"><big><b>Francois de Curel's <i>The Fossils</i><br /> +Jean Jullien's <i>The Serenade</i><br /> +Georges de Porto-Riche's <i>Francoise' Luck</i><br /> +Georges Ancey's <i>The Dupe</i></b></big></p> + +<p><i>Translated with an introduction on Antoine and Theatre +Libre by BARRETT H. CLARK. Preface by BRIEUX, of the +French Academy, and a Sonnet by EDMOND ROSTAND.</i></p> + +<p><b><i>The Review of Reviews says</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A lengthy introduction, which is a gem of condensed +information."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>H. L. Mencken (in the Smart Set) says</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Here we have, not only skilful playwriting, but +also sound literature."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Brander Matthews says</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The book is welcome to all students of the modern +stage. It contains the fullest account of the activities +of Antoine's Free Theater to be found anywhere—even +in French."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>The Chicago Tribune says</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Clark's translations, with their accurate and +comprehensive prefaces, are necessary to anyone interested +in modern drama.... If the American reader +will forget Yankee notions of morality ... if the +reader will assume the French point of view, this book +will prove a rarely valuable experience. Mr. Clark +has done this important task excellently."</p></div> + + + +<p class="alignl"><i>Handsomely Bound. 12mo. Cloth<br /> +3/4 Turkey Morocco</i></p> +<p class="alignr"><i>Net</i>, $2.50<br />8.50</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<h3><i>Contemporary French Dramatists</i></h3> + +<h4>By BARRETT H. CLARK</h4> + + +<p><i>In "Contemporary French Dramatists" Mr. Barrett H. +Clark, author of "The Continental Drama of Today," +"The British and American Drama of Today," translator +of "Four Plays of the Free Theater," and of various plays +of Donnay, Hervieu, Lemaitre, Sardou, Lavedan, etc., has +contributed the first collection of studies on the modern +French theater. Mr. Clark takes up the chief dramatists +of France beginning with the Théâtre Libre: Curel, +Brieux, Hervieu, Lemaître, Lavedan, Donnay, Porto-Riche, +Rostand, Bataille, Bernstein, Capus, Flers, and Caillavet. +The book contains numerous quotations from the chief representative +plays of each dramatist, a separate chapter on +"Characteristics" and the most complete bibliography to +be found anywhere.</i></p> + +<p><i>This book gives a study of contemporary drama in +France which has been more neglected than any other +European country.</i></p> + +<p><b><i>Independent, New York</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Almost indispensable to the student of the theater."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Boston Transcript</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Clark's method of analyzing the works of the +Playwrights selected is simple and helpful. * * * As +a manual for reference or story, 'Contemporary French +Dramatists,' with its added bibliographical material, +will serve well its purpose."</p></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Uniform with FOUR PLAYS. Handsomely bound.</i></p> + +<p class="alignl"><i>Cloth<br /> +3/4 Turkey Morocco</i></p> +<p class="alignr"><i>Net</i>, $2.50<br />8.50</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<h3><i>"European Dramatists"</i></h3> + +<h4>By ARCHIBALD HENDERSON</h4> + +<h4><i>Author of</i> "George Bernard Shaw: His Life and Works."</h4> + + +<p><i>In the present work the famous dramatic critic and +biographer of Shaw has considered six representative +dramatists outside of the United States, some living, some +dead—Strindberg, Ibsen, Maeterlinck, Wilde, Shaw, Barker, +and Schnitzler.</i></p> + +<p><b><i>Velma Swanston Howard says</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Prof. Henderson's appraisal of Strindberg is certainly +the fairest, kindest and most impersonal that +I have yet seen. The author has that rare combination +of intellectual power and spiritual insight which +casts a clear, strong light upon all subjects under his +treatment."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Baltimore Evening Sun</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Prof. Henderson's criticism is not only notable for +its understanding and good sense, but also for the +extraordinary range and accuracy of its information."</p></div> + +<p><b>Jeanette L. Gilder, in the <i>Chicago Tribune</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Henderson is a writer who throws new light on +old subjects."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Chicago Record Herald</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"His essays in interpretation are welcome. Mr. +Henderson has a catholic spirit and writes without +parochial prejudice—a thing deplorably rare among +American critics of the present day. * * * One finds +that one agrees with Mr. Henderson's main contentions +and is eager to break a lance with him about +minor points, which is only a way of saying that he is +stimulating, that he strikes sparks. He knows his age +thoroughly and lives in it with eager sympathy and +understanding."</p></div> + +<p><b><i>Providence Journal</i></b>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Henderson has done his work, within its obvious +limitations, in an exceedingly competent manner. He +has the happy faculty of making his biographical +treatment interesting, combining the personal facts and +a fairly clear and entertaining portrait of the individual +with intelligent critical comment on his artistic +work."</p></div> + + +<p class="alignl"><i>Photogravure frontispiece, handsomely printed and +bound, large 12mo</i></p> +<p class="alignr"><i>Net</i>, $3.00</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<h3><i>The Changing Drama</i></h3> + +<h4>By ARCHIBALD HENDERSON, M.A. Ph.D.</h4> + +<h4><i>Author of</i> "European Dramatists," "George Bernard +Shaw—His Life and Work." Etc.</h4> + + +<p>A vital book, popular in style, cosmopolitan in tone, +appraising the drama of the past sixty years, its changes, +contributions and tendencies. Has an expression of the +larger realities of the art and life of our time.</p> + +<p><b><i>E. E. Hale</i></b> in <i>The Dial</i>: "One of the most widely +read dramatic critics of our day; few know as well as he +what is 'up' in the dramatic world, what are the currents +of present-day thought, what people are thinking, +dreaming, doing, or trying to do."</p> + +<p><b><i>New York Times</i></b>: "Apt, happily allusive, finely informed +essays on the dramatists of our own time—his +essay style is vigorous and pleasing."</p> + +<p><b><i>Book News Monthly</i></b>: "Shows clear understanding +of the evolution of form and spirit, and the differentiation +of the forces—spiritual, intellectual and social—which +are making the theatre what it is today ... we +can recollect no book of recent times which has such contemporaneousness, +yet which regards the subject with such +excellent perspective ... almost indispensable to the general +student of drama ... a book of rich perspective and +sound analysis. The style is simple and direct."</p> + +<p><b><i>Geo. Middleton</i></b> in <i>La Follette's</i>: "The best attempt +to formulate the tendencies which the drama is now taking +in its evolutionary course."</p> + +<p><i><b>Argonaut</b></i>: "Marked by insight, discernment and enthusiasm."</p> + + +<p class="alignl"><i>Large 12mo. Dignified binding</i></p> +<p class="alignr"><i>Net</i>, $2.50</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<h3>GEORGE BERNARD SHAW<br /> + +<small><i>HIS LIFE AND WORKS</i></small></h3> + +<h4>A Critical Biography (Authorized)<br /> + +<small>BY</small><br /> + +ARCHIBALD HENDERSON, M.A., Ph.D.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>With two plates in color (one, the frontispiece, from an autochrome by +Alvin Langdon Coburn, the other from a water color by Bernard Partridge), +two photogravures, 26 plates on art paper, and numerous illustrations +in the text.</p></div> + +<p class="center">In one volume, demy 8vo., cloth and gilt top, net $7.50.</p> + +<p>This remarkable book, upon which the author has been at work for more +than six years, is the authentic biography of the great Irish dramatist and +socialist. In order to give it the authority which any true biography of +a living man must possess, Mr. Shaw has aided the author in every possible +way. The book is based not only on the voluminous mass of Mr. +Shaw's works, published, uncollected in book form or unpublished, but also +on extensive data furnished the author by Mr. Shaw in person.</p> + +<p>A masterly and monumental volume, it is a history of Art, Music, Literature, +Drama, Sociology, Philosophy, and the general development of the +Ibsen-Nietzschean Movement in Morals for the last thirty years. The +Press are unanimous in their praise of this wonderful work.</p> + + + +<p class="center">Opinions of the work and its author.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>The Bookman:</i> "A more entertaining narrative whether in biography or +fiction has not appeared in recent years."</p> + +<p><i>The Independent:</i> "Whatever George Bernard Shaw may think of his +Biography the rest of the world will probably agree that Dr. Henderson has +done a good job."</p> + +<p><i>Boston Herald:</i> "This is probably the most informing and satisfactory +biography of this very difficult man that has been written. A thoroughly +painstaking work."</p></div> + +<p class="author"> +<b>European Dramatists</b><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<h3><i>Short Plays</i></h3> + +<h4>By MARY MAC MILLAN</h4> + + +<p><i>To fill a long-felt want. All have been successfully +presented. Suitable for Women's Clubs, Girls' Schools, +etc. While elaborate enough for big presentation, they +may be given very simply.</i></p> + +<p><i><b>Review of Reviews</b></i>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mary MacMillan offers '<span class="smcap">Short Plays</span>,' a collection +of pleasant one to three-act plays for women's +clubs, girls' schools, and home parlor production. +Some are pure comedies, others gentle satires on +women's faults and foibles. 'The Futurists,' a skit +on a woman's club in the year 1882, is highly amusing. +'Entr' Act' is a charming trifle that brings two +quarreling lovers together through a ridiculous private +theatrical. 'The Ring' carries us gracefully back +to the days of Shakespeare; and 'The Shadowed Star,' +the best of the collection, is a Christmas Eve tragedy. +The Star is shadowed by our thoughtless inhumanity +to those who serve us and our forgetfulness of the +needy. The Old Woman, gone daft, who babbles in +a kind of mongrel Kiltartan, of the Shepherds, the +Blessed Babe, of the Fairies, rowan berries, roses and +dancing, while her daughter dies on Christmas Eve, is +a splendid characterization."</p></div> + +<p><i><b>Boston Transcript</b></i>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Those who consigned the writer of these plays to +solitude and prison fare evidently knew that 'needs +must' is a sharp stimulus to high powers. If we find +humor, gay or rich, if we find brilliant wit; if we +find constructive ability joined with dialogue which +moves like an arrow; if we find delicate and keen +characterization, with a touch of genius in the choice +of names; if we find poetic power which moves on +easy wing—the gentle jailers of the writer are justified, +and the gentle reader thanks their severity."</p></div> + +<p><i><b>Salt Lake Tribune</b></i>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The Plays are ten in number, all of goodly length. +We prophesy great things for this gifted dramatist."</p></div> + +<p><i><b>Bookseller, News Dealer & Stationer</b></i>:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The dialogue is permeated with graceful satire, +snatches of wit, picturesque phraseology, and tender, +often exquisite, expressions of sentiment."</p></div> + + +<p class="alignl"><i>Handsomely Bound. 12mo. Cloth</i></p> +<p class="alignr"><i>Net</i>, $2.50</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><i>More Short Plays</i></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">BY MARY MacMILLAN</span></h4> + + +<p>Plays that act well may read well. Miss MacMillan's +plays are good reading. Nor is literary excellence a +detriment to dramatic performance. They were put on +the stage before they were put into print. They differ +slightly from those in the former volume. Two of them, +"The Pioneers," a story of the settlement of the Ohio +Valley, and "Honey," a little mountain girl cotton-mill +worker, are longer. The other six, "In Mendelesia," +Parts I and II, "The Dryad," "The Dress Rehearsal of +Hamlet," "At the Church," and "His Second Girl," +contain the spirit of humor, something of subtlety, and +something of fantasy.</p> + +<p><i><b>Brooklyn Daily Eagle</b></i>: "Mary MacMillan, whose +first volume of short plays proved that she possessed +unusual gifts as a dramatist, has justified the hopes +of her friends in a second volume, 'More Short Plays,' +which reveal the author as the possessor of a charming +literary style coupled with a sure dramatic sense +that never leads her idea astray.... In them all the +reader will find a rich and delicate charm, a bountiful +endowment of humor and wit, a penetrating knowledge +of human nature, and a deft touch in the drawing +of character. They are delicately and sympathetically +done and their literary charm is undeniable."</p> + +<p class="alignl"><i>Uniform with</i> "<i>Short Plays</i>"</p> +<p class="alignr"><i>Net</i>, $2.50</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<h3><i>Comedies of Words<br /> +and Other Plays</i></h3> + +<h4>BY ARTHUR SCHNITZLER<br /> +TRANSLATED BY PIERRE LOVING</h4> + +<p class="center">The contents are:<br /> + +"<i><b>The Hour of Recognition</b></i>"<br /> +"<i><b>Great Scenes</b></i>"<br /> +"<i><b>The Festival of Bacchus</b></i>"<br /> +"<i><b>His Helpmate</b></i>"<br /> +"<i><b>Literature</b></i>."</p> + +<p>In his "Comedies of Words," Arthur Schnitzler, the +great Austrian Dramatist, has penetrated to newer and +profounder regions of human psychology. According to +Schnitzler, the keenly compelling problems of earth are: +the adjustment of a man to one woman, a woman to one +man, the children to their parents, the artist to life, the +individual to his most cherished beliefs, and how can we +accomplish this adjustment when, try as we please, there +is a destiny which sweeps our little plans away like helpless +chessmen from the board? Since the creation of Anatol, +that delightful toy philosopher, so popular in almost +every theater of the world, the great Physician-Dramatist +has pushed on both as World-Dramatist and reconnoiterer +beyond the misty frontiers of man's conscious existence. +He has attempted in an artistic way to get beneath what +Freud calls the "Psychic Censor" which edits all our +suppressed desires. Reading Schnitzler is like going to +school to Life itself!</p> + + +<p class="alignl"><i>Bound uniform with the S & K Dramatic Series</i>,</p> +<p class="alignr"><i>Net</i> $2.50</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<h3><i>The<br /> +Provincetown Plays</i></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Edited by</span><br /> +GEORGE CRAM COOK AND FRANK SHAY</h4> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Contents Are:</span></p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>Alice Rostetter's comedy</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Widow's Veil</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>James Oppenheim's poetic</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Night</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>George Cram Cook's and Susan Glaspell's</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Suppressed Desires</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Eugene O'Neill's play</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Bound East for Cardiff</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Edna St. Vincent Millay's</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Aria de Capo</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Rita Wellman's</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">String of the Samisen</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Wilbur D. Steele's satire</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Not Smart</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Floyd Dell's comedy</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Angel Intrudes</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Hutchin Hapgood's and Neith Boyce's play</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Enemies</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Pendleton King's</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Cocaine</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>Every author, with one exception, has a book or more to +his credit. Several are at the top of their profession.</p> + +<p>Rita Wellman, a Saturday Evening Post star, has had +two or three plays on Broadway, and has a new novel, +THE WINGS OF DESIRE.</p> + +<p>Cook and Glaspell are well known—he for his novels +and Miss Glaspell for novels and plays.</p> + +<p>E. Millay is one of America's best minor poets. Steele, +according to O'Brien, is America's best short-story writer.</p> + +<p>Oppenheim has over a dozen novels, books of poems +and essays to his credit.</p> + +<p>O'Neill has a play on Broadway now, BEYOND THE +HORIZON.</p> + +<p>Hutch, Hapgood is author of the STORY OF A +LOVER, published by Boni and Liveright anonymously.</p> + + +<p class="alignl"><i>8vo. Silk Cloth, Gilt Top</i></p> +<p class="alignr"><i>Net</i> $3.00</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<h3>Portmanteau Plays</h3> + +<h4>BY STUART WALKER<br /> +<br /> +Edited and with an Introduction by<br /> + +EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT</h4> + + +<p>This volume contains four One Act Plays by the inventor +and director of the Portmanteau Theater. They +are all included in the regular repertory of the Theater +and the four contained in this volume comprise in themselves +an evening's bill.</p> + +<p>There is also an Introduction by Edward Hale Bierstadt +on the Portmanteau Theater in theory and practice.</p> + +<p>The book is illustrated by pictures taken from actual +presentations of the plays.</p> + +<p>The first play, the <i><b>"Trimplet"</b></i>, deals with the search +for a certain magic thing called a trimplet which can cure +all the ills of whoever finds it. The search and the finding +constitute the action of the piece.</p> + +<p>Second play, <i><b>"Six who Pass While the Lentils +Boil"</b></i>, is perhaps the most popular in Mr. Walker's +repertory. The story is of a Queen who, having stepped +on the ring-toe of the King's great-aunt, is condemned +to die before the clock strikes twelve. The Six who pass +the pot in which boil the lentils are on their way to the +execution.</p> + +<p>Next comes <i><b>"Nevertheless"</b></i>, which tells of a burglar +who oddly enough reaches regeneration through two children +and a dictionary.</p> + +<p>And last of all is the <i><b>"Medicine-Show"</b></i>, which is a +character study situated on the banks of the Mississippi. +One does not see either the Show or the Mississippi, but +the characters are so all sufficient that one does not miss +the others.</p> + +<p>All of these plays are fanciful—symbolic if you like—but +all of them have a very distinct raison d'être in +themselves, quite apart from any ulterior meaning.</p> + +<p>With Mr. Walker it is always "the story first," and +herein he is at one with Lord Dunsany and others of his +ilk. The plays have body, force, and beauty always; and +if the reader desires to read in anything else surely that +is his privilege.</p> + +<p>Each play, and even the Theater itself has a prologue, +and with the help of these one is enabled to pass from one +charming tale to the next without a break in the continuity.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>With five full-page illustrations on cameo paper.</i></p> + + + +<p class="alignl"><i>12mo. Silk cloth</i></p> +<p class="alignr">$2.50</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<h3><i><b>More Portmanteau Plays</b></i></h3> + +<h4>BY STUART WALKER<br /> +<br /> +Edited and with an Introduction by<br /> +EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT</h4> + + +<p>The thorough success of the volume entitled <i><b>"Portmanteau +Plays"</b></i> has encouraged the publication of a +second series under the title <i><b>"More Portmanteau +Plays"</b></i>. This continuation carries on the work begun in +the first book, and contains <i><b>"The Lady of the Weeping +Willow Tree"</b></i>, one of the finest and most effective +pieces Stuart Walker has presented under his own name; +<i><b>"The Very Naked Boy"</b></i>, a slight, whimsical, and +wholly delightful bit of foolery; <i><b>"Jonathan Makes a +Wish"</b></i>, a truly strong three-act work with an appeal of +unusual vigor.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>With Six full page illustrations on Cameo Paper.</i></p> + + +<p class="alignl"><i>12mo. Silk cloth</i></p> +<p class="alignr">$2.00</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + + + +<h4>TO BE PUBLISHED IN 1920</h4> + +<h3><i><b>Portmanteau Adaptations</b></i></h3> + +<h4>BY STUART WALKER<br /> +<br /> +Edited and with an Introduction by<br /> + +EDWARD HALE BIERSTADT</h4> + + +<p>The third volume of the Portmanteau Series includes +three of Stuart Walker's most successful plays +which are either adapted from or based on works by +other authors. The first is the ever wonderful <i><b>"Gammer +Gurton's Needle"</b></i>, written some hundreds of years +ago and now arranged for the use of the modern theater +goer. Next comes, <i><b>"The Birthday of the Infanta"</b></i> +from the poignant story of Oscar Wilde (used also by +Alfred Noyes in one of his most effective poems), and +last of all the widely popular <i><b>"Seventeen"</b></i> from the +story of the same name by Booth Tarkington.</p> + + +<p class="alignl"><i>12mo. Silk cloth</i></p> +<p class="alignr"><i>Net</i>, $2.50</p> +<div style="clear: both;"></div> + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<div class="notebox"> +<h3>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:</h3> + +<p>1. Misprints in character names have been silently corrected.</p> + +<p>2. Punctuation has been normalized for the stage directions and the play +listings in the Bibliography.</p> + +<p>3. A few typographical errors have also been corrected. +They have been marked in the text with <ins class="correction" title="like this">popups</ins>. +Position your mouse over the line to see an explanation.</p> + +<p>4. Other than the corrections listed above, printer's inconsistencies +in spelling, punctuation, hyphenation, and ligature usage have been +retained.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY CONTEMPORARY ONE-ACT PLAYS *** + +***** This file should be named 36984-h.htm or 36984-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/9/8/36984/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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