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| committer | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2026-01-24 13:24:02 -0800 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/77765-0.txt b/77765-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0197096 --- /dev/null +++ b/77765-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4940 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77765 *** + + + + + MONSIEUR D’OR + + + + + BY THE SAME AUTHOR + + +=A BIBLIOGRAPHY OF SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.= With portrait. Edition +limited to three hundred copies, printed from type, and a large paper +edition of thirty copies. + + Regular Edition $ 4.00 _net._ + Large Paper Edition 10.00 _net._ + + +=EARLY REVIEWS OF ENGLISH POETS.= With Introduction and Notes. + + Regular Edition $1.20 _net._ + Library Edition 2.00 _net._ + + +=THE NAME OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.= A Study in Orthography. + + Regular Edition $1.00 _net._ + + + + + MONSIEUR D’OR + A DRAMATIC FANTASY + + BY + + JOHN LOUIS HANEY + +[Illustration: A black laurel wreath encircling a central torch with a +flame, tied at the base with a ribbon bow.] + + PHILADELPHIA + THE EGERTON PRESS + 1910 + + + This edition is limited to two hundred and fifty copies printed from + type and numbered. + + No. —— + + + Copyright, 1910 + + By JOHN LOUIS HANEY + + All rights, including presentation and translation, are reserved. + Application concerning public performances should be made to + The Egerton Press, 934 North Eleventh Street, Philadelphia. + + + PRESS OF + THE NEW ERA PRINTING COMPANY + LANCASTER, PA. + + + TO + + =My Parents= + + + Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! + Bright and yellow, hard and cold, + Molten, graven, hammered, and rolled; + Heavy to get, and light to hold; + Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold, + Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled; + Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old + To the very verge of the churchyard mould; + Price of many a crime untold; + Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! + Good or bad a thousand fold! + —Thomas Hood + + + + + THE CHARACTERS + + + The Prolog + ROBERT DORR + SIDNEY HASTINGS + JACK NORGATE + BILLY FANSHAWE + PERCY MIDDLETON + HAROLD WESTBROOK + Mrs. SARA KEENE + ELEANOR RICHMOND, her niece + MARIAN WINTHROP + MARGARET THURBER + ROSE LOWELL + GERTRUDE PASTON + + Scene I + MONSIEUR D’OR + RAOUL LEHMANN + FRÉDÉRIC LEHMANN, his brother + M. BERTINE, their secretary + M. ALBERT + M. LORRAINE + ADRIENNE COURTEAUX + CÉLESTE BERGÈRE + M. FRÉMIET + + Scene II + MONSIEUR D’OR + ADOLPHE LEMAIRE + JEAN MOREAU + HENRI VAUX + HÉLÈNE VAUX, his daughter + Mme. CYPRIENNE DACIER + Mme. LUCETTE CLARY + BAPTISTE, a servant + + Scene III + MONSIEUR D’OR + SIR MORTIMER MUIRHEAD + Mr. GILBERT, his secretary + BARON GRAEFFLINGEN + Herr LOBEN, his secretary + MARQUIS PALLOT + COUNT ANDRIEV + CLAIRE LASALLE, a stenographer + + Scene IV + MONSIEUR D’OR + Dr. MIRSKY + RAMANAND, an Oriental + CYRIL, a boy + EDITH PACKARD, a nurse + + Epilog + ROBERT DORR + Mr. MATHEWS + ELEANOR RICHMOND + Mr. HANSON, her secretary + +The forty characters may be distributed among thirteen players. See note +on page 10. + + THE PROLOG + A terrace adjoining the Dorr Villa at Lenox. + + SCENE I + The office of Lehmann Frères, St. Gallen. + + SCENE II + The music room of the Chateau D’Or, near Versailles. + + SCENE III + A private parlor in the Hotel Royal, Interlaken. + + SCENE IV + A chamber in a Balkan palace. + + THE EPILOG + A parlor in the Hotel Orient, Port Said. + +Fifteen years elapse between the Prolog and the Epilog. + +NOTE + +The forty characters may be distributed among thirteen players as +follows: + + Prol. Sc. I Sc. II Sc. III Sc. IV Epil. + DORR D’OR D’OR D’OR D’OR DORR + WESTBROOK R. LEHMANN LEMAIRE MUIRHEAD RAMANAND + HASTINGS F. LEHMANN MOREAU GILBERT MIRSKY HANSON + FANSHAWE BERTINE LOBEN MATHEWS + NORGATE ALBERT BAPTISTE PALLOT + MIDDLETON FRÉMIET ANDRIEV + LORRAINE VAUX GRAEFFLINGEN + MRS. KEENE + ELEANOR ADRIENNE HÉLÈNE CLAIRE EDITH ELEANOR + MARIAN CÉLESTE + MARGARET CYPRIENNE + GERTRUDE LUCETTE + ROSE CYRIL + + + + + MONSIEUR D’OR + + + + + THE PROLOG + + +[_A handsome terrace adjoining the ball room of the Dorr Villa. Wide +marble steps in the rear lead to a higher tesselated walk with marble +balustrades. As it is night there is only a dim vista of the beautiful +gardens beyond. On the right there is a similar approach by marble steps +to the higher level. The ball room is reached by steps on the left. Its +glass doors and deep windows are draped with exquisite lace curtains. +Palms and other exotic plants are placed appropriately about the +terrace; large, gaudy Japanese lanterns are strung overhead at various +points. At each side of the terrace there is, in front of a bank of +potted plants, a large marble bench provided with silk cushions. The +orchestra in the ball room is playing a delightful Viennese waltz as the +curtain rises. During the earlier part of the scene recurrent noise of +laughter and chatter is heard from the dancers and their shadows are +reflected on the curtains of the room. As the various couples emerge +from the ball room or enter from the rear they engage in mutual +conversation as they promenade without regard for the others. The +characters all suggest superabundant wealth and a marked air of +flippancy in the consciousness of their social preeminence. A few +moments after the rising of the curtain_ SIDNEY HASTINGS _and_ MARIAN +WINTHROP _enter from the ball room_.] + +MARIAN. So the court granted her the custody of the children? + +SIDNEY. And he is forbidden to marry again during her life time. + +MARIAN. She gets alimony, of course? + +SIDNEY. Fifty thousand a year. + +MARIAN. Poor Mabel! She’ll spend that in three months. I really believe +the dear girl will have to make up with him or find some one else who is +willing to take her with the youngsters. There’s three of them, you +know, Sid—and large families are not fashionable now. She’ll never +manage to scrape along on fifty thousand. Why, he used to give her that +in jewels every year! + +SIDNEY. I believe you’re right, Marian. It seems a bit hard, doesn’t it? + +MARIAN. Mabel would have done better if she had gone to Reno. They’re +specialists out there, you know—they would have given her a square deal. +[_They pass up the steps at the right and return slowly by the upper +walk to the ball room. Meanwhile_ BILLY FANSHAWE _and_ MARGARET THURBER +_enter direct from the ball room_.] + +BILLY. Yes, the whole story is in the New York papers this evening. Shot +himself through the mouth and didn’t live a minute. I felt sorry for the +poor devil! Did you know him? + +MARGARET. I knew his wife—she was Susie Caxton—one of the Amherst +Caxtons. Lucky there’s no children. Why did he do it, Billy? + +BILLY. I suppose he couldn’t stand the pace his particular Amherst +Caxton was setting for him. He was only a bank clerk, you know, and +trying to keep up with people who spent as much in a week as he earned +in a year. + +MARGARET. I thought he had an important position at the bank. + +BILLY. My dear Margaret, how innocent you are! His position was +important enough, but they didn’t pay him more than they had to. He +tried the stock-market to help him out and before he knew it he was +juggling the deposit slips like a professional crook. The warrant was +out for his arrest and he knew it. That’s why he turned the gun upon +himself. + +MARGARET. Poor little Susie! She gave up Charlie Decker, who is worth at +least ten millions, to marry that man. I suppose we’ve seen the last of +her. [_During the latter part of the conversation_ PERCY MIDDLETON _and_ +ROSE LOWELL _have entered from the ball room and have walked across the +back of the stage, so that they now pass_ BILLY _and_ MARGARET _at the +right and proceed along the front while the other two sit on the bench +at the right side and converse_.] + +ROSE. You shouldn’t associate with that woman, Percy—she’s a notorious +character. + +PERCY. She’s not so bad. You girls are simply jealous. Besides, there’s +always a lot of reporters and johnnies hanging around her dressing-room. +There’s no chance to get really intimate. She seems to think a lot of +me, though—you ought to hear her call me ‘mon cher Pairsee’—she’s not +strong on English, you know. + +ROSE. I don’t know. + +PERCY. Well, that’s why I’m telling you. The other night I said to her, +‘Natalie, your tongue can’t speak English, but your eyes can speak every +language there is in the world.’ [BILLY _and_ MARGARET _rise from the +bench and return to the ball room by the upper walk_.] + +ROSE. That was rather neatly put, Percy. + +PERCY. [_Flattered._] Wasn’t it? The reporters wanted to write it up for +the papers, but I called them off. Natalie doesn’t like notoriety. She’s +not such a bad one, Rose, when you get to know her. Of course, she likes +a bird and a bottle after the show and she gets a bit lively at times, +but she doesn’t lose her self-control. She’s a thoroughbred. She’s not +like that Margaret Thurber we passed just now. At the Decker dance last +week that girl just stowed away champagne till she fell off her chair. +Now Natalie would know better than that; she’s— + +ROSE. See here, I don’t want to hear any more about that vulgar chorus +girl— + +PERCY. Oh! you’re just jealous—like the rest of them. Maybe Natalie +wouldn’t get a fit if she saw me out here in the dark with you. I +believe she’d scratch your eyes out. She’s a spunky little filly—she’s a +real thoroughbred. You’ve got to treat her right. [_As they pass off +right to the garden_, JACK NORGATE _and_ GERTRUDE PASTON _stroll along +the rear terrace from the left and come down by the central steps_.] + +GERTRUDE. There’s Rose Lowell with that silly Percy Middleton. I don’t +see how she can tolerate the fellow. + +JACK. That’s no enigma. He’s worth three or four millions, whereas the +Lowells are not rich. + +GERTRUDE. It’s cruel of you, dear, to say that. Rose isn’t the sort of +girl to marry for money. + +JACK. Why, Gertie, she must marry for money, whether it’s cruel or not +to say so. I’m sorry there’s nothing more promising than Percy on her +matrimonial horizon. Shall we sit down a while? [_They take seats on the +bench at the right._] + +GERTRUDE. He’s a disgusting creature, Jack. I wish the Dorrs wouldn’t +invite him to their affairs. + +JACK. Have you heard of his escapade with Mrs. Vansant? + +GERTRUDE. Ah! that impudent Vansant woman! What has she been doing to +Percy? + +JACK. They gave her charge of a booth at the charity bazaar and when +trade grew slack she announced that she would auction off a dozen kisses +among the men. Just then Percy came along and bid fifty dollars for the +entire dozen. That silenced the rest and she had to accept Percy’s bid. +He promptly paid the money, took one kiss, and notified her that he +reserved the rest for future delivery. + +GERTRUDE. What did Mrs. Vansant say to that? + +JACK. Oh! she was game! She told Percy that she was ready whenever he +was. I presume he will collect those kisses one at a time whenever he +can make himself sufficiently conspicuous in doing it. + +GERTRUDE. How disgusting! Buying and selling kisses! + +JACK. You’re right, dearest! Kisses were not meant to be sold. [_He +looks around towards the ball room to make sure that they are alone, +then kisses her passionately. Meanwhile_ PERCY _and_ ROSE _have +re-entered from the right just in time for the tender scene. It is too +late to retreat, so they tiptoe awkwardly and hurriedly across the back +of the terrace to the ball room._] + +GERTRUDE. [_Freeing herself._] How imprudent, Jack. Somebody might have +seen us. + +JACK. Now don’t scold me, Gertie. I made sure that we were alone; +besides, I don’t often get a chance— + +GERTRUDE. [_Curtly._] Won’t you take me back to the ball room? [_They +rise and walk towards the left._] + +JACK. You’re not angry, I hope? We were talking of kisses, dear, and I +simply couldn’t help it. + +GERTRUDE. We were talking of Percy Middleton’s buying the kisses of that +odious grass-widow. + +JACK. I’ll admit that I did wrong, and I’m very, very sorry. Does that +satisfy you? [_After a pause._] Now let’s kiss and make up. + +GERTRUDE. [_Smiling._] Another kiss! Jack, you’re incorrigible. [_She +kisses him tenderly._] You dear boy! Will it always be like this? + +JACK. [_Taking her in his arms._] Always—forever—and so on for eternity. +We shall be all in all to each other and the rest of the world will be +as nothing to us. Just you and I—we two alone— + +GERTRUDE. Dear Jack! I am so happy! [_They enter the ball room. From the +rear_ HAROLD WESTBROOK _and_ ELEANOR RICHMOND _come slowly down the +central steps; her demeanor is serious, his is somewhat depressed. They +seat themselves on the bench at the left side._] + +ELEANOR. How soon do you leave? + +HAROLD. In a few days. The ranch is a large one and I’m needed out +there. I had no intention of asking you so soon, Eleanor—I’m afraid +fortune has been against me, but it was my last chance to see you +alone—I had to speak! + +ELEANOR. [_With sympathy._] I am heartily sorry it cannot be otherwise, +but our decisions in the real crises of life seem often not to rest with +ourselves. + +HAROLD. Have you no hope to offer me? No chance that some day you may be +willing to join me in the West, to work out our destinies together in +the great world beyond the plains? + +ELEANOR. No, I feel sure it can never be—but I hope we shall remain good +friends. I want to hear from you, Harold, and I shall pray for your +happiness in your new home. I shall always remember that you have paid +me the sincerest tribute that a true man can offer a woman. You have put +a consecrated seal upon our friendship. No matter what our lot may be in +the days to come, we must never forget this night. + +HAROLD. Heaven knows, I shall never forget it. There is consolation in +the thought that you are not going entirely out of my life. Your +kindness has brought a soothing calm over my great grief. I have no +right to ask if there is another to whom you have given your heart, but +Heaven has indeed blessed that man. + +ELEANOR. Heaven has blessed every man and every woman who has known true +love. If our human frailty is such that we can never comprehend the full +measure of that blessing, we should at least be thankful for whatever +glimpse of the divine vision is granted us. + +HAROLD. You know best, Eleanor—your soul speaks with a clearer insight +than mine. I shall abide by your decision—and I shall worship you till +the end. + +ELEANOR. Don’t say that, Harold—you will meet some one else— + +HAROLD. [_Softly, but with conviction._] No, there will never be any one +else. [_They sit in silence for a few moments. The music stops._ HAROLD +_takes her hand and kisses it reverently. They rise and walk silently +into the ball room._ BILLY FANSHAWE, JACK NORGATE _and_ SIDNEY HASTINGS +_stroll in leisurely at the centre from the terrace behind the ball +room_.] + +JACK. [_Looking after them._] Harold Westbrook has been very attentive +to Miss Richmond all evening. + +BILLY. He’s wasting his time in that campaign. I’ll back Bobbie Dorr for +any amount to win her against the field. [SIDNEY _looks after the +retreating figures and says nothing_.] What do you think of it, Sid? + +SIDNEY. Miss Richmond is altogether too fine a girl for Bobbie +Dorr—that’s my thought. [_He offers a cigarette to_ JACK, _who accepts, +then to_ BILLY.] Smoke, Billy? + +BILLY. No thanks! I came out for some fresh air. Besides, smoking spoils +my appetite. I’m going to make another raid on the collation pretty +soon. It’s excellent stuff. I’ve had a couple of lobster cutlets, some +sweet breads and two of the nicest soft crabs I ever ate. The Dorrs +certainly know how to do things. + +SIDNEY. [_Bitterly._] Who wouldn’t know how to do things with the income +of forty-odd millions at one’s disposal? + +BILLY. Forty-odd millions! [_Whistles._] Forty-odd! Why, I’d be +satisfied with the odd! [_Explaining._] It might be seven or nine, you +know. [_In a lower voice._] I say, is that correct? Is it as much as +that? + +JACK. I don’t believe that old man Dorr gathered so much out of his +Nevada mines. Of course, he piled up a lot of money, but— + +SIDNEY. I grant you, there were no forty millions in his silver mines, +but you are evidently not aware of his other interests that paid him +enormously though his name was never associated with them. You may +remember that no inventory was filed by the executors—but Simpson, who +was chief counsel for the estate, told me a few things. + +BILLY. [_Curiously._] What did he say, Sid? + +SIDNEY. He mentioned substantial shareholdings in the Kimberley diamond +fields, in the Swiss lace and embroidery industries, in breakfast foods, +railroads, waterpower companies, automobile factories, tobacco, oil, +sugar. [_Savagely._] I declare that when Simpson got through with his +catalogue of Dorr’s interests I felt convinced that there was hardly a +human creature in civilization who didn’t pay tribute in some form to +that old octopus. + +JACK. [_Looking reflectively at his cigarette._] And even the tobacco we +are smoking! Rather lucky we know the Dorrs, eh? We can get back some of +our tribute when we gather here as their guests. + +BILLY. Bobbie Dorr and his aunt are certainly making the income on the +forty-odd millions circulate with startling vivacity. I’m willing to +help them. Won’t you boys come in and get another bite of something to +eat? + +JACK. No, thanks. + +SIDNEY. We’ll finish our cigarettes first. + +BILLY. Pity you fellows smoke so much—it spoils your appetite. Well, I’m +off for another lobster cutlet and a sweetbread or two—[_He goes toward +left._] and I shall certainly have another of those delicious soft +crabs. [_Exit left._] + +SIDNEY. I envy a man who can enjoy material existence as Billy does. +Why, he’s a personified stomach. I believe he’d sell his soul for a +salad! + +JACK. [_Laughing._] Not much! Billy would make a better deal than that. +He would demand at least a well-selected dinner with appropriate +wines—then he might feel satisfied that he had made a real bargain. + +SIDNEY. He’s a sterling good fellow just the same—I’m glad to number him +among my friends. I need a cheerful spirit like Billy about me +occasionally—I am apt to grow bitter when I let my thoughts dwell on +such men as Bobbie Dorr. + +JACK. I don’t see why you should feel that way about Bobbie. Of course, +he’s a child of fortune. With his good looks, his wealth, and his fair +allotment of brains he is bound to play a conspicuous part in our social +life. + +SIDNEY. You know, Jack, I’m fond of growling at times and just now I’m +not above criticizing a man who is virtually my host. There’s something +I don’t like about Bobbie Dorr. I don’t envy him his great wealth nor +his social triumphs, but that insufferable air of presumption I cannot +tolerate. What was his grandfather when he started for the West half a +century ago? + +JACK. Nobody in particular, I suppose. + +SIDNEY. Josiah Dorr was a strong, keen-witted Yankee with no capital +except his good health and his persistent optimism. He knocked about for +a good many years before he made that lucky strike in Nevada. + +JACK. And then he married and lived unhappily ever after. + +SIDNEY. Not at all! Dorr married while he was still poor and with his +usual luck chose a wife who was just the right sort for him—a woman of +no pretensions, but of sound common sense; and their married life was +happy enough until the children grew up. + +JACK. Bobbie’s father and his aunt Martha? + +SIDNEY. Exactly. The lamented Josiah, Jr., and [_Pointing toward the +ball room._] our charming hostess. Simpson told me that young Josiah was +for many years a thorn in the flesh of his parents. He seemed to +progress from one escapade to another till he crowned his list of +indiscretions by marrying a third-rate actress whose pretty face was her +only recommendation for public attention. + +JACK. I didn’t know that Bobbie’s mother was an actress. + +SIDNEY. Neither did the public, though she tried hard enough to make +them think so. Of course, she gave up the stage when she became Mrs. +Josiah, Jr. She probably expected to try her histrionic talent in +melting the heart of the stern parent—but old Dorr didn’t give her a +chance. He never laid eyes on her! + +JACK. Not even after Bobbie was born? That frequently makes a +difference! + +SIDNEY. Old Dorr saw nothing of Bobbie till both Josiah, Jr. and his +actress-wife were dead. Then Aunt Martha took charge of Bobbie and the +boy grew up under her care. After that nothing was too good for the hope +of the family. They took him to Lausanne for his education, gave him a +thoroughly cosmopolitan training, topped off with a few semesters at +Heidelberg. He speaks four languages—but I don’t believe he has been +accused of enriching the world’s store of thought in any of them. Behold +to-night the finished product, capering in yonder ball room! When he +reaches his twenty-fifth birthday a few weeks hence he will be the happy +possessor of some forty millions. + +JACK. A fellow has little excuse for being anything but the most decent +sort of chap under such conditions. Fate has been unusually kind to +Bobbie Dorr. + +SIDNEY. He’s no silly offspring of superabundant wealth—Bobbie’s a +capital fellow in many respects, but I can’t quite overlook his +patronizing air, his superb confidence in the power of his riches. That +sort of thing is pardonable in a man who has created the wealth, who has +wrested it from the unyielding earth by the sweat of his brow or has won +it by the exercise of his superior wit, but it takes little genius to +inherit another man’s money. + +JACK. Here he comes, Sid; we’re in for a quick change of subject. +[_Louder._] In my opinion, these gardens are among the most attractive +at Lenox. There’s that fine row of Lombardy poplars—[ROBERT DORR _enters +from the ball room. His evening attire is beyond criticism save for the +fact that he wears large gold studs in his shirt, a heavy gold fob and +several conspicuously large rings._] + +DORR. Would anybody believe it? A room full of charming girls, and you +two solemn philosophers out here in the dark discussing the Lombardy +poplars. Can you find nothing better to talk about? + +SIDNEY. I’m sure we’re both booked for every dance on the list. It’s a +breath of fresh air we’re after now. + +DORR. Meanwhile the ladies are commenting upon your ungallant +disappearance; but you cannot elude them long. Billy Fanshawe is +bringing out a small party to view the lower gardens. Perhaps such a +trip would appeal to you? + +JACK. It’s a lark! I wonder how they ever got Billy away from the +lobster cutlets and the soft crabs. [_Enter_ BILLY _left, followed by_ +MRS. KEENE, MARIAN, GERTRUDE, MARGARET _and_ ROSE.] + +BILLY. [_Officiously, from the top step._] All in line for a personally +conducted tour around the celebrated Dorr gardens. The small and select +party will be carefully chaperoned by Mrs. Keene and will be under the +immediate direction of Mr. William Fanshawe, the well-known cicerone, +who will explain all points of interest. + +JACK. Bully, old man! You’re as impressive as the prospectus of a Cook’s +tour. + +MRS. KEENE. Come on, girls. [_They descend to the terrace._] Why, Mr. +Norgate and Mr. Hastings! I have been wondering what had become of you. + +SIDNEY. We just stepped out to admire the garden and we now crave +permission to join your small and select party. + +MARIAN. I think they’re horrid in coming out here to smoke and then to +pretend they were admiring the garden. I move that we refuse them +permission to join our party. All in favor say ‘aye.’ + +THE GIRLS. [_In chorus._] Aye! + +MARIAN. It is carried. Mr. Hastings and Mr. Norgate are not permitted to +join us. + +SIDNEY. Pardon me, Miss Winthrop, you are not parliamentary. You put +your own motion—you even forgot to wait till some one seconded it. + +MARIAN. What was the use? I knew they were all in favor of it. + +SIDNEY. You ought to be in Congress—they need girls like you. But +seriously, do you mean to say we may not join you? + +GERTRUDE. Yes, and it serves you right, too! + +BILLY. Hold on! I want to amend that resolution. If you girls don’t +mind, I should like to have Jack Norgate along. He knows the names of +the trees and shrubs better than I do. + +MARGARET. What! better than the well-known cicerone? + +BILLY. I regret to say he does. In fact, I might make a mess of it +without him. + +MARIAN. Shall we relent, Mrs. Keene? + +MRS. KEENE. I suppose so, though you are adding to my responsibilities +as chaperone. [BILLY _mounts the marble railing and detaches one of the +Japanese lanterns_.] + +ROSE. But only Mr. Norgate—not Mr. Hastings. He has been too sarcastic. + +SIDNEY. Ladies, I am overwhelmed with the sense of my shortcomings. I +spare you the need of further deliberation by admitting that I am +unworthy of your company. + +GERTRUDE. How pathetic! I believe he’s glad we don’t want him! + +MARGARET. Mr. Dorr, won’t you join us? + +DORR. Thank you—I think I shall try to entertain Mr. Hastings during +your absence. + +MARIAN. He ought to be left by himself. + +DORR. I should hate to leave him in such bad company. I want to try +moral suasion on him. + +BILLY. I hope he survives. [_Holds up the lantern._] Ladies, are you +ready? + +MRS. KEENE. We shall surely need more light. It must be very dark at the +foot of the garden. + +BILLY. One’s enough. Besides, if we had more, you might get confused and +follow some other lantern instead of mine. + +DORR. Don’t forget to show the ladies the sun-dial. + +ROSE. Oh! a sun-dial! Isn’t that romantic! + +SIDNEY. Especially at this time of night. + +DORR. It’s a quaint old dial that was brought over from Italy many years +ago. + +BILLY. [_Whispers to_ DORR.] By the way, Bobbie, what does that Italian +motto on the sun-dial mean? I always forget it. + +DORR. ‘Time will reveal all things.’ + +BILLY. Thanks. That helps me over one difficulty at least. Come on, +ladies. We’re now under way! [_He heads the procession off right, +followed by_ MRS. KEENE _and the girls. The latter speak almost +simultaneously as they leave._] + +MARIAN. _Au revoir!_ I hope you’ll enjoy that moral suasion, Mr. +Hastings! + +ROSE. Don’t spare him, Mr. Dorr! + +GERTRUDE. I hope you will profit by it, Mr. Hastings! + +MARGARET. You are too self-sacrificing, Mr. Dorr! [_They go off._] + +SIDNEY. [_Laughing._] In such charming creatures as these rests most of +our happiness in life. I suppose I ought to be in a penitent mood—they +will all be ready to forgive me when I dance with them later on. [_He +offers_ DORR _a cigarette_.] Smoke, Dorr? + +DORR. [_Takes cigarette._] Thanks. [_After a pause._] Do you know, +Hastings, the women seem to be more or less afraid of you? I’ve noticed +it many times. + +SIDNEY. The sex has evidently little respect for my cynical philosophy. +It’s a pleasure to toss a choice morsel of flippancy at them and watch +them gasp. + +DORR. [_Reflectively._] They’re a life-long study for the keenest man. +How splendidly they play their parts! Every woman’s an actress at heart. +[_Pointing to the garden._] There is a group of apparently ingenuous, +simple-hearted young creatures alive to the pleasure of the moment and +intent upon enjoying existence—yet I’ll wager that in each feminine mind +there are deep-laid schemes beyond your detection or mine. + +SIDNEY. We men are at a disadvantage because we have no adequate weapon +to match theirs—and the laws of common courtesy render us helpless +before their cleverly concealed advances. To make matters worse, each +fair antagonist plans her campaign in her own individual manner—woe to +the presumptuous man who tries to generalize their methods. No two of +them will act precisely alike in effecting their ends. + +DORR. They’re all alike in one thing, Hastings. + +SIDNEY. What’s that? + +DORR. Their respect for wealth! They may be as individual as you please; +but exhibit your pile of gold—the talisman that puts the luxurious gowns +upon their backs and the gleaming jewels about their persons—and you’ll +find them all ready to purr like a lot of kittens over a bowl of warm +milk! + +SIDNEY. See here, Dorr, I thought I was a bit of a cynic myself, but I +never quite believed that. You don’t mean to say that a woman cannot +rise above a cringing regard for mere material wealth? + +DORR. I mean just that; no woman—and no man either, for that matter. It +was long before our time that a famous statesman declared that every man +had his price—and I don’t believe he had any intention of ignoring woman +when he said it. + +SIDNEY. [_Seriously._] Well, if you really feel that way about it, I +must insist that you are far more in need of moral suasion than I am. We +two are very different, Dorr, in one respect. + +DORR. Yes? + +SIDNEY. If you will pardon my saying so, I flash an occasional cynicism +upon the ladies that puts them on their guard and marks me as a person +to be treated with caution. You retain their good opinion by an outward +show of courtesy and deference, yet in your heart you entertain +sentiments that make it impossible for you to respect a single human +creature. + +DORR. We’re quite different in another respect, Hastings. You light upon +a thing of this sort and brood over it until it spoils your good nature. +I take it for granted that we are all corruptible and that none can +stand the absolute tests of integrity, but I don’t worry about it. This +is a good enough world if one has the power to command its good things. +When it comes to testing the power of its talisman [_He draws a few gold +coins from his pocket and jingles them._] I must affirm that those who +have tried its virtues are, after all, the best judges of its merits. +[SIDNEY _tosses away his cigarette with a gesture of disgust_.] What’s +the matter? + +SIDNEY. The tobacco was beginning to taste bad; I have smoked enough, +anyhow. [_He rises and gazes down into the garden._ DORR _hesitates for +a moment, then crosses to him._] + +DORR. Evidently you find my views very shocking. Somehow I expected you +to agree with me. + +SIDNEY. I presume I am like most of my kind—when I find a man more +cynical than myself I conclude that it is time to reform my philosophy +of life. [_After a pause._] Bobbie Dorr, when you say that you believe +all men and women bow to the power of wealth, do you make no +reservations—no exceptions? + +DORR. I make no exceptions—not even myself! If I were a poor man, I +should be as corruptible as the rest. There are no exceptions! + +SIDNEY. [_Slowly._] Not even such a girl as—Eleanor Richmond? + +DORR. [_Annoyed._] Why should you mention Miss Richmond in this +connection? + +SIDNEY. Pardon me—because I believe that you care more about her than +you do about most girls. I know you admire her; I don’t hesitate to say +that I regard her as the embodiment of all that is lovable in woman. I +wondered whether you were willing to class her with the rest of your +mercenary herd—that is all. + +DORR. [_With constraint._] Miss Richmond has always enjoyed all the +luxuries that wealth can supply. Where gold has nothing to offer it +cannot be expected to corrupt. I should prefer to discuss this question +in the abstract without considering its bearing upon Miss Richmond, or +upon any one else, for that matter. [_Shrieks are heard from the +garden._ SIDNEY _crosses to the right_.] + +SIDNEY. Something has happened to Mrs. Keene’s party! + +DORR. [_Peering off right._] They are coming up the path. Their lantern +is extinguished! Billy’s personally conducted tour seems to have ended +in a fizzle. + +SIDNEY. [_Looking towards the left._] Those shrieks were evidently heard +in the ball room. Miss Richmond is coming out. [ELEANOR _enters with an +alarmed look. Dorr crosses to her._] + +ELEANOR. What is it, Bobbie? I thought I heard some one crying from the +garden. + +DORR. You undoubtedly did. Billy Fanshawe has been trying to guide Mrs. +Keene and a party of the girls about the place and he has evidently come +to grief. We shall know in a moment. + +ELEANOR. You don’t suppose that anything serious has happened? + +SIDNEY. It’s hardly likely—Jack Norgate is with them. [_Confused voices +and exclamations off right, drawing nearer._] + +DORR. [_Looking off._] This way! Watch out for that step! [_Another +shriek and exclamations. The girls tumble in hastily in couples. +Finally_ BILLY _and_ JACK _supporting_ MRS. KEENE _between them_.] + +ELEANOR. Why, what has happened? [_The girls assist each other in +smoothing their ruffled hair and gowns. The men escort_ MRS. KEENE _to +the right bench, where she gasps for breath_.] + +MARIAN. Billy Fanshawe was showing us around the garden—and everything +was so beautiful! We had just reached the sun-dial and Billy raised his +lantern to read the curious Italian inscription when a sudden gust of +wind blew out the light— + +GERTRUDE. And we were left in the dark—it was pitch dark, and the boys +had no matches! + +MRS. KEENE. [_Dramatically._] There was no sudden gust of wind! Mr. +Norgate deliberately blew out the light. I never experienced anything so +outrageous! + +JACK. My dear Mrs. Keene—I must protest. I was simply leaning over +Billy’s shoulder to see the inscription. I was just about to read off +the Italian words when I suddenly found myself in total darkness. + +SIDNEY. Perhaps your Italian pronunciation put out the light. + +MRS. KEENE. [_Severely._] Sidney Hastings, this is no matter for +jesting. The worst is yet to come! [_The girls look at each other with +assumed surprise._] + +ROSE. What do you mean? + +MRS. KEENE. I mean that after that light went out the behavior of those +young men was disgraceful. There was hugging and kissing all about me! + +MARGARET. Oh! Mrs. Keene! How can you say such a thing? Of course, we +all uttered exclamations of surprise. + +MRS. KEENE. You certainly did—and several of you young ladies also said +‘stop’! [_The girls look at one another._] + +BILLY. [_Slowly._] I suppose Jack and I are disgraced forever, Mrs. +Keene, if you’re going to believe that about us. I say it’s unkind. + +MRS. KEENE. [_Witheringly._] There is just one thing I’d like to find +out. + +JACK. [_Innocently._] What is it? + +MRS. KEENE. Which of you two young men put his arm around _my_ waist—by +mistake, of course! [JACK _and_ BILLY _look foolishly at each other. The +rest chuckle wherever_ MRS. KEENE _cannot see them_.] + +MARIAN. [_To the rescue._] I believe I put my arm around your waist—I +was very much frightened. + +MRS. KEENE. [_With sarcasm._] I dare say you girls were so much +frightened that you all had your arms about each other’s waists; and our +two gallant escorts—I suppose they will also insist that they embraced +each other for mutual protection. + +DORR. I think you might make some allowance, Mrs. Keene. The boys were +probably doing their best to keep the party close together. + +MRS. KEENE. The party was close enough, I assure you. I’m glad it’s all +over. No more garden trips for me in the dark, especially when there are +irresponsible young men in the party. [_She rises and crosses to the +left._] You girls had better come inside—the dancing will go on in a few +moments. + +ROSE. I’m so sorry about the sun-dial. I scarcely had a look at it—I was +so anxious to see it. + +GERTRUDE. We couldn’t even read the Italian motto. What was it, Billy? + +BILLY. The exact Italian words have slipped my memory, but they +meant—let me see—they meant— + +ELEANOR. ‘Time will reveal all things.’ [_Soft waltz music begins in the +ball room._] + +MRS. KEENE. A very good motto, Mr. Fanshawe. Perhaps some day time will +reveal how that light went out! Come, girls, the music has begun. [_They +enter the ball room in groups_, DORR _and_ ELEANOR _in the rear. They +detach themselves from the rest._] + +DORR. [_Softly._] The next dance is mine, Eleanor. Shall we not stay out +here for a few moments? + +ELEANOR. Yes, if you wish. [_He leads her to the bench at the right._] + +DORR. I have been eager all evening to have a few words with you apart +from that restless whirl inside—just we two alone, with our little +secret! + +ELEANOR. You silly boy! Be careful you don’t betray us. [_Looks toward +the garden._] How delightful it is out here in the open! There _is_ a +slight breeze. Bobbie, do you believe Aunt Sara was right in declaring +that the boys put out that light? + +DORR. Certainly. You heard Gertrude Paston say the boys had no matches +to re-light the lantern. Well, Jack was out here smoking with Hastings +before he joined your aunt’s party. + +ELEANOR. Of course, Gertrude and Jack are rather fond of each other— + +DORR. I don’t blame him for not finding his matches. + +ELEANOR. You know I didn’t mean that—I don’t believe Jack would do such +a thing! You wouldn’t, Bobbie? + +DORR. Not in their bungling fashion, perhaps—but there’s no telling what +a fellow wouldn’t do for a few golden moments with a girl he cared for. +I grant that if there’s a bevy of girls about, he may possibly hug the +wrong one—he may even embrace the chaperone, eh? [_He laughs softly._] + +ELEANOR. Don’t say such things, Bobbie. You shouldn’t talk so +flippantly. + +DORR. It’s true, isn’t it? In spite of their apparent protests, there +wasn’t one in that party who regretted the little episode at the +sun-dial—except your aunt, of course, and she protested mainly on behalf +of outraged social decorum. One can hardly help being flippant about +such women! + +ELEANOR. Bobbie! + +DORR. I know—she’s your aunt—that’s the best I can say for her; she +doesn’t deserve the honor. But after all, why should we bother about +these people? We can be happy out here—with our secret. The time will be +short enough. Who has the next dance? + +ELEANOR. [_Looking at the card._] Harold Westbrook. + +DORR. He won’t be long in claiming you. I can’t help feeling decidedly +jealous when I see some one else swinging you about the floor. [_He +takes her hand._] But soon I shall make them all envious forever—soon +our little secret will no longer be our own. Within two months my +grandfather’s fortune passes into my hands, and then— + +ELEANOR. Then you will be a very wealthy man, Bobbie, but your fortune +will carry serious responsibilities with it. You can find better things +to do than trying to make the other boys envious of you. + +DORR. They must be envious when they learn that you are mine, when they +see you resplendent as a queen, dazzling from head to foot; they’ll no +longer sneer at my wealth—they will realize what it has achieved for me! + +ELEANOR. [_Withdrawing her hand._] What your wealth has achieved for +you! You believe that your grandfather’s money makes a difference? + +DORR. Why not? If I were a poor man, I wouldn’t ask a girl I loved to +share my poverty and thus spoil her own chance of happiness; but if I +can give my wife everything that heart can desire, why shouldn’t it make +a difference? + +ELEANOR. [_Reflectively._] There is one great happiness that is denied +to the rich girl—the happiness that comes to the self-sacrificing wife +who helps her husband in his struggle with the world, who stands at his +side offering aid and encouragement until together they forge their way +upward to the heights of success—a success that both can cherish as a +result of mutual effort. + +DORR. That’s all mere story-book sentimentality. Let a poor husband and +his self-sacrificing wife start out together in a life of poverty, and +ten to one he’s ashamed of her when he has made his fortune—if he ever +does. The newspapers are full of such instances. Don’t cast a romantic +glamor over a state of affairs that would be extremely unpleasant in +real life. You wouldn’t be the sort of girl for such a career! + +ELEANOR. [_With spirit._] A true woman finds her happiness with the man +she loves, whether rich or poor; she does not find it in a mere riot of +gold! + +DORR. But the gold helps! The gold makes life pleasant—it gives us what +we desire. [_She turns away._] Why, Eleanor, you’re not going to let +this spoil things? Remember our secret! + +ELEANOR. Bobbie—[_A pause._] We can no longer— + +DORR. You’re not going to throw me over for a mere difference of +opinion? We have our lives before us and everything to live for— + +ELEANOR. Yes, we have everything—except spiritual kinship. I’m sorry, +Bobbie—heartily sorry, but I’m also thankful I found that out in time. +[_The music ceases._] + +DORR. The dance is over! Westbrook will be here in a moment to claim +you. Will you let it end in this way? + +ELEANOR. [_Rising._] I cannot hope that you will understand how +distressed I am, but I want to say just one thing, Bobbie—to-night seems +to mark a turning point in our lives. I trust it is for the best. +Whatever happens hereafter, I want you to remember the motto on your old +Italian sun-dial— + +DORR. [_Mechanically._] ‘Time will reveal all things.’ + +ELEANOR. Yes. We shall both grow older and perhaps we shall see with a +clearer vision than now. I shall not forget—[HAROLD _enters hastily from +the ball room_.] + +HAROLD. Ah, Miss Richmond, you are here. The next dance is mine, I +believe? + +ELEANOR. [_Taking his arm._] Yes, Mr. Westbrook. Are you coming in, +Bobbie? + +DORR. Not now. [_As they pass up the steps left, he deliberately lights +a cigarette._] ‘Time will reveal all things.’—I hope it will; then we’ll +see if I’m not right. [_Taking a few gold coins from his pocket he +tosses them in his palm._] Now, my golden friends, you, at least, will +be true to me! I shall rely upon you to show her—her and all the rest of +them your wonderful power! [_He looks toward the ball room as the dance +music resumes and the curtain descends._] + + + + + SCENE I + + +[_The office of Lehmann Frères in their factory at St. Gallen. It is +furnished in a manner appropriate to a prosperous business concern. In +the centre is a large rectangular table with several chairs. At the left +is a low flat desk with papers, telephone and chair. Close to the wall +behind the desk is a telephone switchboard for communicating with +various parts of the works. At the right there is a modern office-desk, +richly furnished, with a hatrack nearby. In the centre back is a large +leather covered davenport above which hangs a portrait of the late M. +Lehmann senior, the father of Lehmann Frères and the honored founder of +the establishment. Elsewhere on the walls hang framed views of the plant +and other appropriate pictures. There are exits right and left to inner +offices, likewise two exits in the rear, the right exit leading to the +street and provided with a glass-door, the left exit leading to the +shops. Whenever the left exit is opened the heavy whirr of machinery is +heard within. As the curtain rises_, BERTINE _is seen at the flat desk, +left, signing papers. A few moments later the telephone bell rings._ +BERTINE _answers the telephone at his desk_.] + +BERTINE. Hello!... Yes... M. Raoul Lehmann is out at present.... This is +his secretary, M. Bertine.... Yes.... He should be here shortly.... +No.... M. Frédéric Lehmann has an important conference on hand in this +office at three o’clock.... No.... Impossible!... No!... No!!... Very +well.... Good-by. [_He hangs up the receiver and resumes work at his +papers._ RAOUL LEHMANN _enters at the rear right entrance with hat, cane +and gloves, which he places on the rack near his desk at the right_.] + +BERTINE. Good afternoon, M. Lehmann. I have just had a telephone call +from a reporter of _Le Journal_ asking for an interview with you or your +brother. + +RAOUL. Ah! So the newspapers have learned of our trouble with our +operatives. I presume they wish to send a representative to the +conference? + +BERTINE. Yes. I took the liberty of informing the reporter that it was +impossible. + +RAOUL. Very good! Has my brother returned from luncheon? + +BERTINE. Not yet, sir. [_He hands a telegram to_ RAOUL.] This telegram +arrived while you were out. + +RAOUL. [_Opens it and reads._] ‘If possible, kindly postpone conference +till five o’clock. I wish to be present at the meeting. Signed, D’Or.’ + +BERTINE. M. D’Or! + +RAOUL. As he chooses to call himself—the grandson of the late Josiah +Dorr, whose money coupled with the brains of my honored father +[_Pointing to the portrait._] made this great plant possible. Let me +see—the Dorr estate holds about one-third of the shares, does it not? + +BERTINE. Somewhat more. Within the last few months they have increased +their holdings to nearly forty per cent. + +RAOUL. In any event, it is enough to command respect for such a request +as this. [FRÉDÉRIC LEHMANN _enters at the rear right entrance with hat +and gloves_.] Ah! Frédéric. I have just received this communication from +M. D’Or. [_He hands the telegram to_ FRÉDÉRIC.] + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Reads._] So! The mysterious grandson and heir! + +RAOUL. We must accede to the request. He may make trouble otherwise—we +have enough to worry about without antagonizing our shareholders. + +FRÉDÉRIC. By all means! If he is anything like his grandfather, he will +strengthen our position very much. Old Josiah always took care that he +got his share of the spoils—and usually a little besides! + +RAOUL. [_To_ BERTINE.] Kindly have M. Albert sent here at once. He heads +the delegation, I believe? + +BERTINE. Yes. [_He goes to the house-telephone and adjusts the plug._] +Hello.... Yes.... Ask M. Albert to come to the office.... Yes.... That’s +all. + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Looking at the telegram._] So the grandson of old Mr. Dorr +blossoms into M. D’Or! + +RAOUL. Some rogue of a genealogist probably convinced him that the +change of name could be defended. The rich American has a weakness for +that sort of thing. The manufacture of genealogies is a more profitable +industry than that of laces, Frédéric! + +FRÉDÉRIC. Very likely; but it demands an imagination—an inventive +faculty that most of us do not possess. [ALBERT _enters at the rear, +left. He bows respectfully to the_ LEHMANNS.] + +RAOUL. M. Albert, our conference this afternoon will be postponed until +five o’clock. M. D’Or, who is one of our American shareholders, wishes +to attend the meeting, so we are making this change to accommodate him. + +ALBERT. Very well, M. Lehmann. Shall I inform my associates? + +RAOUL. Yes. I believe there are five of you? + +ALBERT. Two of the men besides myself and two of the women. + +RAOUL. You may return to your work, M. Albert. [ALBERT _bows himself out +at the left rear entrance_.] + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Who has been examining a paper at the table._] M. Bertine, +will you look over this schedule and compare it with the duplicate on +file in my office? + +BERTINE. [_Taking the paper._] Very well, M. Lehmann. [_He bows low and +goes out at the side door, left._] + +FRÉDÉRIC. Bah! What a life it must be to cringe and bow continually to +one’s superiors. Our M. Albert from the shops is scarcely more servile +than our M. Bertine in his attitude towards us. + +RAOUL. True enough; but let M. Albert show lack of respect to so +influential a man as M. Bertine and he would soon feel the consequences. +Even the secretary of Lehmann Frères is a great man in the eyes of his +inferiors. [_He goes to his desk._] It’s a queer world, Frédéric, but +there’s considerable satisfaction to be gained from being in the front +ranks. + +FRÉDÉRIC. Yes—to issue orders, not to take them; to command men, not to +obey them. [_Looks at the portrait._] What a debt we owe, Raoul, to the +genius of our dear father! + +RAOUL. [_Drily, at the desk, without looking around._] And to the money +of old Josiah Dorr! + +FRÉDÉRIC. Certainly—but tell me, could anything be more useless, in fact +more harmful than such money unless administered with discretion and +foresight? + +RAOUL. By the way, Frédéric, M. Bertine has just informed me that the +Dorr interest is now forty per cent. of our capital. Have you been +keeping track of the stock-transfers? + +FRÉDÉRIC. You signed the certificates as well as I. + +RAOUL. True; they were all for small amounts, but it now occurs to me +there were a great many of them. I often regret that we ever reduced our +holdings below an actual majority of the stock. Of course, you had to +furnish your villa on the Axenstrasse— + +FRÉDÉRIC. And you needed money to keep your racing-stables stocked with +thoroughbreds. You know very well, Raoul, that you disposed of more +shares than I did. + +RAOUL. We have both been careless in the matter. Our joint holdings are +about forty-five per cent., which is but a little more than the Dorr +estate now holds. I know, the rest is scattered in small lots, but I get +apprehensive at times. [_He goes over to_ FRÉDÉRIC.] Frédéric, we have a +serious duty before us—we must regain a majority interest of the stock. + +FRÉDÉRIC. You are right. We cannot afford to take chances on losing +control of the business. I shall increase the mortgage on my villa; you +can probably spare a few of your horses? + +RAOUL. Yes. We must also devise other means of raising money. One thing +is certain—we cannot grant the demand of our workpeople for higher +wages. [_He picks up the petition from_ BERTINE’S _desk and scans it_.] +I note that they ask for a uniform advance of ten per cent. in all +departments. + +FRÉDÉRIC. They might as well ask for one hundred and ten per cent. +[_Laughing._] You and I agree on that subject, at least—and M. D’Or is +not likely to intercede for them if he is as fond of fat dividends as +his respected grandfather used to be! + +RAOUL. We need not fear M. D’Or. It is probably idle curiosity that +brings him here. [_Voices are heard in the room, left._ BERTINE _enters +excitedly, followed by_ D’OR, _who is dressed in fine white flannels, +with gold-headed cane, gold band on straw hat, several conspicuous gold +rings and a heavy watch fob_.] + +BERTINE. [_Spluttering._] M. D’Or! M. Raoul Lehmann, M. Frédéric +Lehmann! [_He bows himself out._] + +D’OR. [_With familiarity._] Ah, gentlemen, so I stand in the presence of +Lehmann Frères. [_They shake hands._] You evidently expected me to enter +by your front door [_Points back, right._] but I stole a march on you. I +have been inspecting the factory for the past two hours. + +RAOUL. [_Surprised._] Inspecting the factory! + +D’OR. I have been all over the plant—it is truly a model establishment. +I am pleased to be associated in the control of such an admirable hive +of industry. You will pardon my unconventional way of learning these +things, but I did not wish to be bored by an official and perfunctory +inspection starting from the office. I therefore took matters into my +own hands—and starting at the bottom, I have worked my way to the +intellectual summit of the structure. [_He looks about him._] + +FRÉDÉRIC. It is a pleasure to know that we stood this unusual test so +well, M. D’Or—but, after all, the house of Lehmann Frères has nothing to +conceal— + +D’OR. Evidently not. Your product is of the highest grade and commands +the best markets; your people work under the most hygienic conditions. +They are a busy multitude—those hundreds of men and women in the shops. +By the way, gentlemen, I observed some very pretty girls among them—but +I suppose you are already familiar with that fact. + +RAOUL. [_Coldly._] Pardon me, M. D’Or—my brother and I are hardly in a +position to admire the personal charms of our employees. We are both +married men. + +D’OR. Ah! I see—you may not talk freely of such things. How promptly you +seem to suspect that I was about to intimate something quite shocking. +Charming girls, just the same, even if they do not bask in the sunshine +of your favor. I became interested in one of the young women in your +lace department and stopped for a few moments to question her about her +work—a Mlle. Adrienne—Adrienne—[_He pulls out a small memorandum book._] + +FRÉDÉRIC. Mlle. Courteaux. + +D’OR. Thank you—that was the name. I was amazed at her dexterity and the +rapidity with which she worked. It was fascinating; yet she told me that +she receives only thirty-five francs a week. + +RAOUL. Did she say _only_ thirty-five francs? She is one of our most +skilful and best-paid operatives. + +D’OR. No—I supplied the _only_! It is an outrage—that attractive young +figure bending over the machine, those well-shaped, nimble fingers +constantly at work—and a miserable five and thirty francs at the end of +the week! No wonder your workers are complaining. + +FRÉDÉRIC. But, M. D’Or, we pay the same wages as all the rest. There +must be a profit in the business—a fair return for the large capital +invested. + +D’OR. I wish above all things to act intelligently when we meet their +delegation this afternoon—that is why I chose my own way of becoming +acquainted with the establishment. Have your people formulated their +grievances? + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Taking the document from_ BERTINE’S _desk_.] Yes, here is +their petition addressed to us. We did not wish to be subjected to their +oratory at the conference, so we insisted upon a preliminary bill of +complaint. + +D’OR. [_Scanning the sheets._] H’m—in view of the prosperous times—plant +working to the limit of its capacity—unprecedented business—increased +rents—higher cost of living—we request a general increase of ten per +cent. Why, surely, it is very little that they ask? + +RAOUL. Do you realize what an effect it will have upon our dividends? + +FRÉDÉRIC. Are not our shareholders entitled to first consideration? + +D’OR. [_Still glancing at the petition and not heeding their remarks._] +‘Respectfully submitted, Messrs. Albert, Lorraine, Frémiet; Mlles. +Céleste Bergère, Adrienne Courteaux’—well, I declare, my charming friend +of the lace-machine is to be one of your delegation! How soon do we meet +them? + +RAOUL. I think we had better agree upon some line of action before we +invite the delegation to the office. We should at least present a united +front. + +D’OR. How do you usually act in such an industrial crisis as this? + +RAOUL. Sometimes we find it necessary to make a partial concession—they +are usually crafty enough to ask for twice what they expect to get. +Occasionally we can win over a delegation by assuring them of an +individual raise in wages and thus send them back to their associates +with a discouraging report. + +FRÉDÉRIC. We dare not tamper with the present delegation—they would be +difficult to handle. Their leader, Albert, is a quiet fellow, but the +soul of honor. [_Looks over the petition._] Lorraine is an old man, +generally esteemed and beloved by his associates; Frémiet is a rascally +socialist, a constant breeder of trouble. [_He drops the petition._] + +D’OR. [_Picking up the petition._] And the girls, Mlles. Céleste and +Adrienne—what lovely names they have! + +FRÉDÉRIC. We never worry about the women in such delegations. They are +easily managed. It is strange, Raoul, that just those two should have +been chosen. You should know, M. D’Or, that Adrienne Courteaux is a +good, highly respected girl, who is supporting her widowed mother. As +for Mlle. Bergère—what shall I say, Raoul? + +RAOUL. [_With sarcasm._] I hardly know how she will appeal to M. D’Or’s +fancy. She lacks exactly those virtues and qualities that strike us so +favorably in Mlle. Courteaux. + +D’OR. Well, gentlemen, I see that you know something after all about the +young women of your establishment, in spite of the fact that you are +both married men—but, seriously, how do you propose to answer their +request for an advance? + +RAOUL. There is but one answer if we are not to reduce our dividends—the +request must be refused. + +D’OR. And the admirable Mlle. Courteaux, supporting a widowed mother, +will continue to get only thirty-five francs a week? + +FRÉDÉRIC. Her case seems to distress you most. Do you realize that even +with the increase she would be earning less than forty francs? + +D’OR. True—I hadn’t thought that it meant so little—so contemptibly +little. Gentlemen, I propose that we grant the ten per cent. increase +and that in such deserving cases as Mlle. Courteaux’s we give an +additional increment. + +RAOUL. [_Leaping to his feet._] M. D’Or, pardon me—but what you propose +is impossible! Lehmann Frères are now paying the maximum wage-scale. We +cannot increase wages further without defying an established economic +law. + +D’OR. M. Lehmann, the economic law has tyrannized over us long enough—it +must be taught a wholesome respect for the power of gold. Of what value +is wealth if it cannot crush so immaterial a thing as an economic law? + +RAOUL. If you have no regard for your own interests, you should at least +respect the investment of the other shareholders. + +D’OR. Who are the other shareholders? + +RAOUL. You hold some forty per cent. from your grandfather’s estate +together with recent additions; my brother and I jointly own—[_A +pause._] about half of the stock or a little over. That leaves about six +or eight per cent. in small scattered holdings. [FRÉDÉRIC _looks +anxiously at_ D’OR.] + +D’OR. [_With a sinister expression, drawing a bundle of certificates +from his pocket._] M. Lehmann, you and your brother own forty-five per +cent. or less! The so-called scattered holdings are not six or eight per +cent.—here are at least fifteen per cent.—you will observe that each +certificate is endorsed in my favor. + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Leaping up._] Then you actually own a majority of the stock? +[RAOUL _buries his face in his hands and groans_.] + +D’OR. Yes. The Blausteins at Paris have been quietly obtaining this +little block of Lehmann Frères for me. Gentlemen, I was surprised to +learn that you had permitted the control to escape you. + +RAOUL. [_Walking excitedly._] Why should the delegation consult with us, +Frédéric? M. D’Or now dominates the situation—why prolong the agony? + +D’OR. You should not be so bitter, M. Lehmann, because the sins of your +own negligence have found you out. Your lie a moment ago is pardonable. +I recognize your talents—you have maintained and advanced a great +industry established by your father. I hope you will continue to direct +the interests of Lehmann Frères. I simply wish to act as spokesman in +the conference with your delegation—I may say _our_ delegation of +workers. + +RAOUL. Why ask of us a favor that we have no power to withhold? Complete +your triumph! We are in your hands! [D’OR _glances for a moment at the +angry_ RAOUL, _then turns to_ FRÉDÉRIC.] + +D’OR. Kindly summon the committee! + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Rings._ BERTINE _enters, left_.] M. Bertine, please ask the +delegation to come at once. [BERTINE _goes out, rear left. Frédéric +crosses over to_ RAOUL, _who seems crushed and helpless. He tries to +encourage_ RAOUL.] + +D’OR. [_Looking at portrait, after a pause._] Your father’s portrait, I +presume? + +RAOUL. Thank Heaven, he did not live to see this day! + +D’OR. [_Drily._] If he had lived there would have been no such day—at +least, it would not have disturbed his equanimity. + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Comforting_ RAOUL.] Do not reply, Raoul. Let us at least +preserve appearances before our employees. [_Enter, rear left_, BERTINE, +_followed by_ ALBERT, _then_ CÉLESTE _and_ ADRIENNE, _finally_ LORRAINE +_and_ FRÉMIET. _Throughout this scene_ RAOUL _labors under suppressed +excitement_; FRÉDÉRIC _is more composed_.] + +FRÉDÉRIC. M. D’Or, this is the delegation of our workpeople who have +arranged for to-day’s conference. May I say to the committee that we are +honored in having with us M. D’Or, who has a large interest in Lehmann +Frères and wishes to participate in our deliberation. + +D’OR. I should like to meet the delegates individually. + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Indicating._] M. Albert is their leader. + +D’OR. [_Shaking hands._] M. Albert, I am glad to grasp the hand of a man +who has the mark of leadership in his personality. [_Pointing to the +petition._] Is this petition your work? + +ALBERT. [_Modestly._] Only partly, monsieur. The committee worked on it +as a body. + +D’OR. It is a masterful summary. I congratulate you! [ALBERT _bows with +a look of gratification and steps aside_.] + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Introducing_ LORRAINE.] Our oldest worker, M. Lorraine. + +D’OR. The oldest worker! Most interesting! How long have you been +associated with the company? + +LORRAINE. I was twenty when the honored father [_Points to the +portrait._] of Messrs. Lehmann first engaged me—and I’ve been here ever +since. I have two sons and five grandsons here now. I am seventy-three +years old. + +D’OR. [_Astonished._] Fifty-three years of faithful service—and you are +still among the workers! How is it that you have not risen to prosperity +in that time? + +LORRAINE. [_Without bitterness._] We cannot all hope to reach the top. +Some of us have not the brains—and others have not the chance. I have +always been a sober and industrious man, but the pay is not large. I do +not complain, however—I have always been treated well. + +D’OR. It is unjust—rankly unjust! [_He turns to_ FRÉMIET.] And our third +delegate? + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Curtly._] M. Frémiet. + +D’OR. Ah! I recall—the anarchist! + +FRÉMIET. Pardon me, I am a socialist. + +D’OR. Is there any difference? [FRÉMIET’S _look is contemptuous_.] I am +quite unfamiliar with your nice distinctions of political or economic +creed. I dare say you regard yourself as a very badly used person? + +FRÉMIET. Yes. Every worker is badly used. He does not get his share of +the wealth that he creates by the sweat of his brow. + +D’OR. I suppose you believe that all men are created equal? + +FRÉMIET. They are not—they should be. + +D’OR. Ah! So you actually have a grudge against Nature in the first +instance. How unhappy you must be! At any rate you believe in social +equality. Let me test your faith. You are a workman, laboring faithfully +week after week at the plant of Lehmann Frères; I am a gentleman of +leisure, living idly on an inherited income. Do you believe that any +social upheaval can ever make me your equal? + +FRÉMIET. [_Misunderstanding._] I regard myself as any man’s equal, poor +and crushed as I am. It is a cruel social tyranny that keeps us down. + +D’OR. Pardon me, my friend—you did not listen carefully. I asked whether +you believed that any social upheaval could make me _your_ equal. + +FRÉMIET. You are mocking me, M. D’Or. In your heart you know that you +are my superior—my superior in everything that is most desirable in this +world. You live your life according to the dictates of your own fancy, +you call no man master, the pleasures of the world are at your beck. Why +should you seek to torture me and these others on the rack? + +D’OR. [_Turning to the_ LEHMANNS.] Really, I had no idea that my visit +was to be so interesting! [_To_ FRÉMIET.] M. Frémiet, you are something +better than a socialist—you are a poet. Instead of working at the +lace-machines you should capitalize your thoughts. You would soon +attract sufficient attention to make you rich and famous—and +incidentally to drive every vestige of socialism out of your system. +[FRÉMIET _bows with evident pleasure_.] + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Introducing_ CÉLESTE.] Mlle. Bergère. + +CÉLESTE. [_With a curtsy, archly._] Céleste Bergère. + +D’OR. [_Bowing._] Mademoiselle, I am particularly interested in the +welfare of the young women in our workrooms. In which department are +you? + +CÉLESTE. I assist in sorting and packing embroideries. + +D’OR. And what is your pay for this service? + +CÉLESTE. Twenty francs a week. + +D’OR. Twenty francs! How can one live on such wages? + +CÉLESTE. [_With a deliberate look at the_ LEHMANNS.] One cannot—and very +few make the effort. [_The_ LEHMANNS _are astounded and annoyed at her +audacity; the men of the delegation seem uneasy_; ADRIENNE _draws away +from_ CÉLESTE.] + +D’OR. [_With sympathy._] Pardon me for asking that question. I might +have anticipated the answer. Of course, a girl living at home with her +family is under less expense— + +FRÉMIET. [_Starting forward._] How about the rest? It means ruin for the +rest! + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Waving_ FRÉMIET _back and introducing_ ADRIENNE.] I believe +you have met Mlle. Courteaux. + +D’OR. [_Graciously._] Yes, I met Mlle. Courteaux in the lace department. +Your pay is thirty-five francs a week—it is inadequate, I know. + +ADRIENNE. It would not be so bad if it were not for the doctor and for +the medicines that my mother needs. + +D’OR. You are your mother’s sole support? + +ADRIENNE. Yes. [D’OR _looks at her in mingled admiration and pity_.] + +FRÉDÉRIC. Mlle. Courteaux receives high pay as the schedule is arranged. +There are hundreds who receive far less. + +D’OR. Heaven help the hundreds—and the thousands of their kind +elsewhere. [_To_ ADRIENNE.] Are you happy at your work? + +ADRIENNE. Yes; it is not difficult—one soon acquires the necessary +skill. + +D’OR. But you are surely looking forward to something better—something +less monotonous than a lace-machine! + +ALBERT. I hope some day to make Mlle. Courteaux my wife. + +D’OR. Some day? + +ALBERT. Yes. As soon as my pay is sufficient to keep us both. + +D’OR. [_Looks at_ ALBERT, _then_ ADRIENNE.] This, too! Another tyranny +of our industrial system! [_Turns to_ FRÉDÉRIC.] Can Lehmann Frères +afford to be accessories to such hardships? + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Coldly._] It is distressing, of course—but we surely cannot +undertake to reform society and bring about universal happiness. + +RAOUL. [_Stepping forward._] May I remind M. D’Or that we have summoned +this delegation to discuss the wage-scale? We can hardly reach any +conclusion by considering the individual cases before us. + +D’OR. [_With suppressed anger._] Thank you for reminding me, M. Lehmann. +I have made the mistake of regarding our delegation as a group of human +beings. [_He seats himself between the_ LEHMANNS.] Let us settle down to +business. I take it for granted we are all familiar with the contents of +this petition—it sums up the situation aptly—unless our friend Frémiet +wishes to make a speech? + +FRÉMIET. I have no speech to make, M. D’Or. I have been listening +attentively to you—you are a fair-minded man. I am perfectly willing to +leave our grievances in your hands. [D’OR _is visibly flattered_.] + +D’OR. Very well. [_To_ RAOUL.] Now, M. Lehmann, you are the head of this +great establishment—for years you have directed it ably and profitably. +What do you suggest? + +RAOUL. [_Looking keenly at_ D’OR.] Are you asking for my opinion? + +D’OR. Certainly. Can we do anything for our people? + +RAOUL. [_Speaking cautiously._] Perhaps what I say may appear +unsympathetic—but I have always proceeded on the assumption that the +shareholders deserve first consideration in the distribution of +earnings. Our relation with our workers is in the nature of a personal +contract—we offer a certain wage and they are free to refuse it and stay +out of our employ if they so desire. + +D’OR. That is sufficiently blunt to be understood by any one—and it’s +also quite orthodox, I believe; but let us drop abstractions. Can we +afford the requested increase in wages? + +RAOUL. [_Feeling his way._] I wish to do the fair thing—but before all +else I must advise the safe course. Our reports show clearly that a ten +per cent. increase in all departments would ruin the concern. Perhaps we +might compromise on a five per cent. advance and try it for—say six +months, without committing ourselves to continue it beyond that term +unless our earnings justify— + +D’OR. [_Impatiently._] Nonsense, M. Lehmann; you would offer Mlle. +Bergère an extra franc per week, the others perhaps two francs or +less—do you imagine that you have solved the problem? I propose that we +try the ten per cent. increase and give it a fair test. + +CÉLESTE. [_Eagerly._] Oh! M. D’Or, you are our good angel! + +D’OR. [_Flattered._] What is more, I propose to learn the circumstances +of every girl who works in this plant, and wherever conditions warrant +it, I shall recommend an increase of twenty per cent. or even more— + +FRÉDÉRIC. It is impossible! We shall face bankruptcy! + +D’OR. We might try it, at any rate. + +RAOUL. [_Fiercely._] Your plan cannot succeed. + +D’OR. [_Ominously._] None the less I ask you—shall we try it? + +RAOUL. [_After a struggle._] Yes, if you insist! [_The workers are +astounded._] + +D’OR. [_To_ FRÉDÉRIC, _blandly_.] Do you also agree? + +FRÉDÉRIC. Yes. Do whatever you think best! + +D’OR. [_To the delegation._] Your petition is favorably considered and +you may report to your associates that an increase of ten per cent. in +all wages goes into effect immediately. [_The delegates are delighted_; +D’OR _pays no attention to the rest, but gazes at_ ADRIENNE.] + +ALBERT. [_Kissing_ D’OR’S _hand_.] You are a friend of humanity, M. +D’Or! + +LORRAINE. [_With choking voice._] I speak for my sons and grandsons when +I say, ‘Heaven bless you!’ You have brought joy into our lives. + +FRÉMIET. If all employers were like you, monsieur, I would stay away +from our socialistic meetings. + +CÉLESTE. [_Boldly._] M. D’Or, Adrienne and I also wish to thank you, do +we not? [ADRIENNE _stands with bowed head beside her_.] You have made us +so happy! You will be a hero henceforth in the eyes of us all. [_She +turns to_ ADRIENNE, _expecting her to say something_.] + +D’OR. And what do you say, Mlle. Courteaux? [ADRIENNE _raises her head +and looks fixedly at_ D’OR _for several moments of tense silence; then +with a sob she bursts into tears_.] + +ALBERT. [_Hastening to her._] The truest tribute of all, M. D’Or! The +tribute of tears! + +RAOUL. [_Curtly._] The conference being over, you may return to your +work. [_The delegates pass out at the rear left._] M. Bertine, you will +at once post a notice in the shops announcing the increase in wages. +[BERTINE _goes off, left_. RAOUL’S _demeanor changes completely_.] M. +D’Or, in my whole life I have never experienced such a sense of +humiliation, of utter degradation as in the last half hour. What a +terrible man you are! How could you trample us so ruthlessly under +foot—and before our workpeople—treating us like a pair of impotent +puppets! + +D’OR. [_Coolly._] I like to feel the power of my wealth. You have had +the same experience in dealing with your workers. + +RAOUL. Why don’t you exercise your power over them? It is easier and +cheaper. + +D’OR. They know the power of wealth—they need no further demonstration. +The war of wealth against wealth is more to my taste at present. +Besides, gentlemen, it is cleaner sport. + +FRÉDÉRIC. Don’t you realize that as the majority stockholder you must +pay the lion’s share of the bill? + +D’OR. Yes, but it’s worth whatever it costs to see such a precious pair +as you brought to terms. I am satisfied with the reward that my +generosity will bring. By nightfall I shall be heralded through the town +as the kind friend of the downtrodden workers— + +RAOUL. [_Bitterly._] And Lehmann Frères will lose thirty to forty +thousand francs a year! + +D’OR. Of which nearly one half will fall upon you and your brother. + +RAOUL. You forget, M. D’Or—there is still one resource. It would not be +difficult to prove in any court of law that you are an irresponsible +person. When a man, in order to gratify a passing whim, seeks to disturb +the economic balance— + +D’OR. [_With a sneer._] Economic balance! I like that phrase! On the one +hand, our wealth, securely entrenched with all its vast unlimited +influence; on the other, the hands and brains of the numerous wretches +whom we call our employees. Economic balance, indeed! + +FRÉDÉRIC. M. D’Or, we shall not be ruined without a struggle. This +industry has been fostered through two generations of growth and +development. We take pride in it— + +D’OR. Let us stop quarreling, gentlemen—I have heard enough in this +strain. At what figure do you estimate your holdings in Lehmann Frères? + +RAOUL. [_Interrupting_ FRÉDÉRIC.] This morning our joint holdings were +worth six hundred thousand francs—Heaven knows what they are worth now, +with you in the saddle! + +D’OR. [_Deliberately._] Then I presume the easiest way for me to restore +peace and to avoid a commission in lunacy would be to pay you—let us say +eight hundred thousand francs? + +RAOUL. What do you mean? To buy us out? + +D’OR. [_Toying with the petition._] Yes—for eight hundred thousand +francs. + +FRÉDÉRIC. On what terms? + +D’OR. A sight draft on the Blausteins at Paris. [_A frantic discussion +between the brothers, which evokes a smile from_ D’OR.] + +RAOUL. [_Finally._] We accept your offer! + +D’OR. Are you no longer afraid that I am a desperate madman? Are you +sure that a man who disturbs the economic balance can legally transact +business? Would not the sale of your holdings at such an outrageous +overvaluation be liable to attack in your courts? + +RAOUL. [_Suavely._] Not unless you or your friends should proceed. You +made the offer yourself—we are not likely to test your sanity after the +draft is honored. + +D’OR. Gentlemen, I see you are not without a sense of humor. Kindly draw +up a formal agreement—the actual transfer of the property can be +effected to-morrow. [RAOUL _prepares an agreement_.] You can make +immediate delivery, I presume? + +FRÉDÉRIC. Yes. There is nothing to prevent you from taking absolute +possession of the entire establishment at once. You will henceforth be +able to follow the dictates of your own fancy in administering the +affairs of the company. Would it be an impertinence to wish you success +in your venture? + +D’OR. I fear it would be, in the face of your conviction that I am +doomed to inevitable failure. + +FRÉDÉRIC. You are trying to do the impossible! + +D’OR. The impossible is the only thing worth doing nowadays. [RAOUL +_shows the agreement to_ FRÉDÉRIC.] + +FRÉDÉRIC. [_Handing it to_ D’OR.] Very good! + +D’OR. [_Returning it to_ RAOUL.] Quite proper—and to the point. [RAOUL +_rings for_ BERTINE, _who enters, left_.] + +RAOUL. M. Bertine, kindly let us have three copies of this agreement at +once. [BERTINE _takes the paper, glances at its contents and utters an +involuntary cry_.] + +RAOUL. [_Severely._] Have you forgotten yourself? + +BERTINE. [_Confused._] I—I beg your pardon, gentlemen. [_He glances from +one to another, looks at_ D’OR _as at an apparition and goes out +awkwardly_.] + +D’OR. [_Sympathetically._] Poor fellow! How hard he takes it! Gentlemen, +I confess that I looked for a possible word of sentiment from you—a +desire to remain identified with the great business that your father had +established and had developed to its present importance. I was even +prepared to bid higher in case my first offer was not accepted—[_The +brothers look at him in mingled anger and covetousness._] but the sum +seems to have satisfied your cupidity. However, I have an appeal to +make. I do not wish to undertake the administration of this great +industry—I know nothing about it. Do you care to remain here in your +present executive capacity? I know we can agree upon terms. + +RAOUL. Events have crowded each other so quickly that neither of us has +any plans for the future. We shall be willing to stay—for a time at +least, eh, Frédéric? + +FRÉDÉRIC. Assuredly. I, for one, am interested to know how M. D’Or’s +experiment is going to work out. Such audacity affords an enlightening +spectacle to the business man of normal training. + +D’OR. Thank you, gentlemen, I shall appreciate your co-operation. Such a +business requires a certain amount of personal shrewdness and finesse +with which you are evidently well equipped. [BERTINE _enters with the +papers, hands them to_ RAOUL _and goes off, left_. RAOUL _signs each +copy, hands them to_ FRÉDÉRIC, _the latter signs and passes them to_ +D’OR.] + +D’OR. [_Signing the last copy._] There we are! [_Each takes a copy._] +That settles the formal transfer—the details can go over till to-morrow. +Is there anything further, gentlemen? + +RAOUL. [_Somewhat excited, puts his hand to his brow._] I—I do not feel +altogether well. The excitement of the past hour is playing havoc with +my brain! I had better go home— + +FRÉDÉRIC. My dear Raoul—you are not ill, I hope? + +RAOUL. You had better take me home. [_They get their hats and gloves._] +M. D’Or, I wonder whether you are not a demon—or an apparition of some +evil dream! + +D’OR. Have no fear, M. Lehmann. You will find my draft on the Blausteins +a very reliable piece of paper—in exchange for which I am to receive +[_Throwing out his arms._] all this! + +RAOUL. [_In agony._] Ah! this is terrible! [_He goes out, rear right, +followed by_ FRÉDÉRIC. D’OR _looks after them with a laugh, jingles the +gold in his pocket and rings for_ BERTINE _who enters, left. As it is +growing dark_, BERTINE _turns on the electric lamp on the table_.] + +D’OR. M. Bertine, at what time does work cease? + +BERTINE. [_Consults his watch._] In twenty minutes, monsieur. + +D’OR. Will you kindly ask Mlle. Courteaux to come to the office before +she leaves? You may tell her to come at once. + +BERTINE. Very well, monsieur. [_He goes off, rear left._ D’OR _takes the +agreement from his pocket and laughs over it. He looks over other papers +on the desk with deprecatory gestures. For a few moments he gazes at the +portrait of Lehmann senior._ ADRIENNE _enters, rear left, followed by_ +BERTINE.] + +BERTINE. Anything further, monsieur? + +D’OR. Not at present. [_Exit_ BERTINE, _left_. ADRIENNE _stands looking +steadily at_ D’OR.] Mlle. Courteaux, you doubtless wonder why I sent for +you? + +ADRIENNE. [_Simply._] No, I am not wondering. + +D’OR. But you surely cannot know? You see, I—that is, I was so much +distressed when I heard of your sick mother that I desire to learn if I +can do anything for her—perhaps a better doctor, or a trip to the +mountains. I am much interested in her welfare. + +ADRIENNE. [_Coolly._] M. D’Or, it is impossible for me to believe that +you are at all concerned about my mother. + +D’OR. You might at least credit me with good intentions towards her. +There was another reason for my summoning you. When I announced the +increase in wages to the delegation, the others were profuse in their +thanks. You said nothing—you burst into tears. + +ADRIENNE. The rest believed you meant well by them. + +D’OR. And you? + +ADRIENNE. [_After a pause._] I knew better. + +D’OR. [_With a look of admiration._] You are entirely too bright a girl +to pass your best years in a factory. This morning I recognized your +beauty and your charm of manner—now I learn that you are clever as well. + +ADRIENNE. What next, M. D’Or? + +D’OR. How did the shops receive the news of the increase? + +ADRIENNE. The workers went almost wild with joy. + +D’OR. And you alone find a sinister motive in what I did? + +ADRIENNE. Am I wrong? + +D’OR. [_With apparent wounded dignity._] You are doing me a great +injustice—I want you to regard me as a friend. I shall be perfectly +frank with you. When I arrived here I had no intention of playing the +philanthropist as I did a few moments ago. I would have supported the +Lehmanns and there would have been no increase—not a franc for anyone—if +I had not seen you at work. + +ADRIENNE. All this would be very complimentary, monsieur, if I could +ignore the rest of your frankness. + +D’OR. When I urged the increase in wages it was to please you—you alone. +I did not care a whit about the others—and the Lehmanns had to dance as +I fiddled! + +ADRIENNE. That was evident. I felt very sorry for them. + +D’OR. Then you don’t think better of me for what I have done? + +ADRIENNE. How can you expect any one who reads your motives to think +well of you? + +D’OR. Of course, the increase was only a trifle for you after all! But +suppose you could get away from the lace-machine altogether, could live +well, dress well and enjoy life in a way worthy of your beauty—would +that make any difference? + +ADRIENNE. M. D’Or, why do you find it necessary to insult me? + +D’OR. Perhaps you care for that fellow Albert? + +ADRIENNE. [_Quietly._] No. + +D’OR. Is there any one else? + +ADRIENNE. No. + +D’OR. [_More eagerly._] I wouldn’t use that word ‘insult’ if I were you. +I am offering to take you out of a life of drudgery into one of comfort +and affluence, to put the luxuries of the world at your disposal, to +give you the one talisman to the real joy of living. + +ADRIENNE. And that is— + +D’OR. [_Drawing out a handful of gold coin and talking hysterically._] +Gold! Gold! Unlimited gold! The faithful slave that brings me whatever I +desire. The power that sent the Lehmanns slinking out of this room a few +minutes ago like a pair of whipped curs! The power that has placed the +entire establishment of Lehmann Frères in my hands. I own it all—all, +Adrienne! + +ADRIENNE. And you are the man who is now being proclaimed throughout the +town as the champion of the poor man, the friend of the oppressed +woman—you, who seek to control only that you may corrupt! + +D’OR. [_Nettled._] How dare you speak thus to me? You forget that I am +your employer! + +ADRIENNE. That you are not. You have made it impossible for me to earn +my living here. [_She moves toward the door, rear left._] Even if you do +own Lehmann Frères, you might at least spare to your workers their own +souls. You call gold your faithful slave; be careful that your slave +does not master you in the end! [_She passes out quickly._ D’OR _stares +after her and throws the coins on the table. He laughs nervously as he +looks about, especially at the portrait of Lehmann senior. He picks up +the petition, pulls out the agreement, and after some moments of +indecision goes to the telephone._] + +D’OR. [_Looks up the number in the telephone book._] 7—1—4 please.... +Hello.... Yes.... Is that the home of M. Raoul Lehmann?... M. Lehmann +himself? This is M. D’Or, at the office.... Yes.... I have changed my +mind about purchasing your interest and your brother’s.... Yes, I prefer +to restore the plant into your hands.... Yes, a majority of the stock as +well as a bonus for cancelling the deal.... I know you won’t lose +control of it again.... Yes.... I’m sorry I treated you and your brother +so roughly to-day.... Why am I giving it up? Well, I’ve already had +enough of it. Besides, your father’s portrait makes me nervous. I +wouldn’t care to take it down—and I don’t dare to look at it.... What’s +that?... You accept? Good!... Will you inform your brother?... Very +well, in the morning at ten! Are you feeling better?... I am glad to +hear it.... Good-by. [_He goes over to the table and slowly picks up the +coins._] To-day you played me a very shabby trick! [_He pockets the +gold, puts on his hat, takes his cane and is about to leave when he +again notices the portrait. He goes directly to it, takes off his hat +with a bow and addresses the picture._] M. Lehmann, I have the honor to +bid you farewell! [_With a laugh he goes out at the rear right entrance +as the curtain falls._] + + + + + SCENE II + + +[_The music salon of the Chateau D’Or. A handsome room, most luxuriously +furnished in white and gold. The grand piano at the left is also +finished in white and gold. The central entrance leads to a wide +corridor which runs parallel with the room. The furniture and hangings +are over-ornate, showing plainly the triumph of wealth over good taste +in their selection. The guests of_ M. D’OR _are seated about the room in +fashionable morning toilettes. On a sofa right are seated_ MME. +CYPRIENNE DACIER _and_ MME. LUCETTE CLARY. _Before the curtain rises, +the Prelude in C sharp minor by Sergei Rachmaninoff is played at the +piano. As it concludes, the curtain rises and_ HENRI VAUX _is seen +standing at the piano, bowing to the applause of the assembled guests. +(If practicable, the curtain might rise before_ VAUX _has completed his +solo.) As the scene begins, the anonymous guests chat in groups._] + +LUCETTE. Bravo, M. Vaux! You played that prelude beautifully. + +VAUX. Thank you, Mme. Clary. It is a favorite of mine, but perhaps a bit +too depressing for such a pleasant occasion as this. + +LUCETTE. Not at all. We must remember that there is a serious side to +life—don’t you think so, Cyprienne? + +CYPRIENNE. Of course. We can’t have dance music all the time. + +VAUX. But life—at least, life as the artist usually knows it—is apt to +be sad enough; perhaps it is natural that he should prefer a melancholy +theme for subjective interpretation. + +CYPRIENNE. Speaking of melancholy themes reminds me that Adolphe Lemaire +is to be here. + +LUCETTE. Why do you call this M. Lemaire a melancholy theme? + +CYPRIENNE. Don’t you know him? He exhibited that remarkable painting +called ‘Death in Life’ in the recent _Salon_. + +LUCETTE. I did not get to Paris this spring. + +CYPRIENNE. You surely saw a reproduction of the picture—it was copied in +all the illustrated papers—a young girl wandering through a sun-lit +grove and intercepted by a shrouded figure of Death. + +LUCETTE. Oh! I recall it! I shall be delighted to meet the artist. + +VAUX. M. D’Or usually brings together the most interesting people at his +musicales. I believe the poet Moreau is also expected. You know him, +Mme. Clary? A brilliant but eccentric genius! [LUCETTE _shakes her +head_.] + +CYPRIENNE. You have surely heard of Jean Moreau. He writes those +stinging verses against the government. M. Dacier says that the +Opposition would be helpless without him. Of course, he pretends that +his satires refer to the middle ages or to some other country, but every +one knows what he means! + +LUCETTE. Have you brought your daughter along, M. Vaux? + +VAUX. Yes; she was in the corridor a few moments ago. + +LUCETTE. She is a most charming girl—so modest, so refined, and so very +reticent! She seems almost afraid to express an opinion of her own. + +VAUX. Is there any wonder? The sort of opinions that society likes to +hear are not the sort that a young girl can express with any +self-respect. + +CYPRIENNE. Oh! what a cynical remark! Could anything be more attractive +than the sincere thoughts of a sweet girl who has not yet lost her +illusions, who is still a stranger to the bitter realities of life? +[_She sighs._] + +LUCETTE. My dear Cyprienne! Do not seem so vividly reminiscent! It makes +me feel like an old woman to hear you talk in that strain. It isn’t ages +since we felt that way ourselves. + +CYPRIENNE. It isn’t ages, Lucette, in the number of years, but I feel +that I have lived ages since then. + +VAUX. So you regret those days? + +CYPRIENNE. They were sweet; but life has been so varied since—I have +enjoyed so much—that I cannot say that I regret the passing of +impossible ideals. We must all awaken from the vain dreams of youth! + +VAUX. I would have Hélène dream while the mystic charm still pervades +her soul; I would not have her crushed to earth by the revelation of the +deep-seated miseries of existence. I would foster her love for art, her +devotion to music—in short, her taste for such ideals as are cherished +by our genial and accomplished host, M. D’Or. [_Enter_ D’OR, _at the +centre, in a frock coat, gold waistcoat, wearing a conspicuous scarfpin +and rings_.] + +D’OR. My good friends! You have just enjoyed a treat! I heard the +Rachmaninoff prelude from the corridor, M. Vaux. Your interpretation is +masterful; it is the grip of despair itself tugging at the heartstrings +of humanity. We are all indebted to you and pay homage to your art. I am +having some light refreshment served in the corridor. Won’t you kindly +step that way? M. Vaux, may I entrust Mme. Clary to you? [VAUX _leads +with_ LUCETTE, _the rest follow_. CYPRIENNE _takes_ D’OR’S _arm. When +the others are out, he stops short._] + +D’OR. We need not hurry after the others, Mme. Dacier. I have not had a +chance to chat with you this morning; you will not deny me the pleasure +of a few words. I do not see your husband among the guests. + +CYPRIENNE. He is very busy at the bank just now. He finds it impossible +to get away—even for such a splendid affair as you are giving us to-day. + +D’OR. It is right that M. Dacier should regard his business as his first +consideration. He is becoming one of our best known bankers. + +CYPRIENNE. Ah! you are trying to flatter me. My husband is like many +others who are engaged in the money game—a good enough fellow in the +ranks, but not likely to become a leader. He is somewhat envious of you! + +D’OR. _He_ envious of me? + +CYPRIENNE. Yes—your close association with the house of Blaustein. He +has sought for years to acquire the good will of that firm, but +evidently his talents and resources are not sufficient to command their +attention. I also am envious, M. D’Or. + +D’OR. Surely not. + +CYPRIENNE. I am envious of your future wife. Think of the unlimited +wealth you will place at her disposal—the unfailing resource of gold. + +D’OR. [_Sentimentally._] I shall never marry. + +CYPRIENNE. And why not? + +D’OR. Because the one charming woman whom I know is already married. +[CYPRIENNE _affects indifference_.] Her name is—Cyprienne! [_He takes +her hand._] + +CYPRIENNE. [_Starts, but does not withdraw her hand._] Hush, M. D’Or—you +should not say such things! You should not call me Cyprienne. M. Dacier +would not like it. + +D’OR. Do you think there is the remotest possibility of my saying it in +his hearing, Cyprienne? + +CYPRIENNE. [_Archly._] You are an irresistible man. How many hearts have +you broken? + +D’OR. None, I assure you. My own heart is more likely to be broken, +unless— + +CYPRIENNE. [_Coming closer._] M. D’Or, you might say a favorable word or +two about Dacier to the Blausteins—you have such great influence! + +D’OR. [_Eagerly._] I shall be delighted to do so, Cyprienne. We must +talk it over some time. When can I see you? + +CYPRIENNE. You are always welcome at our chateau. + +D’OR. But I would see you alone! + +CYPRIENNE. [_With feigned surprise._] Alone? + +D’OR. Surely, our plan is to arrange a surprise for M. Dacier. At what +hour does he reach home? + +CYPRIENNE. At four or later. + +D’OR. Then I may call some afternoon—say at two? [CYPRIENNE _starts_.] +We can talk things over quite by ourselves. And then—[_Enter_ BAPTISTE.] + +BAPTISTE. [_Announcing._] M. Moreau! [BAPTISTE _retires_.] + +D’OR. [_To_ CYPRIENNE.] Confound the poet! I’d rather chat with you. +[_Enter_ MOREAU.] Welcome, my dear M. Moreau! I’m delighted to see you. + +MOREAU. Pardon my lateness, M. D’Or. I have been attending a conclave of +the Opposition. + +D’OR. Still denouncing the government, eh? I hope you will find it more +agreeable here. Mme. Dacier, may I present M. Moreau? + +CYPRIENNE. [_Extending her hand._] M. Moreau is an old friends of ours. +[_Enter_ BAPTISTE.] + +BAPTISTE. [_Announcing._] M. Lemaire! [_He retires._] + +MOREAU. Ah! so Lemaire is also late. Evidently we poets and artists are +an unreliable class. [_Enter_ LEMAIRE.] + +D’OR. My best greetings, my dear Lemaire. [LEMAIRE _greets_ CYPRIENNE +_and_ MOREAU.] We feared you were going to disappoint us this time—and +every one is anxious to learn what work you have undertaken since your +successful painting ‘Death in Life.’ + +LEMAIRE. [_Staring vacantly and nervously._] I’ve done very little +lately. Heaven knows, I should be working, but that picture seems to +have exhausted every vestige of inspiration in my being. I find it +impossible to pull myself together. + +MOREAU. I know the sensation—a great vital utterance leaves the +inventive power paralyzed and one gropes about in vain for support. + +D’OR. Gentlemen, if you will pardon me, I shall escort Mme. Dacier to +the corridor for some refreshment. Pray make yourselves at home; I shall +rejoin you shortly. [_Exeunt_ D’OR _and_ CYPRIENNE.] + +LEMAIRE. [_Looking about._] What a palace! What wonderful appointments! +Is it conceivable that the pen or the brush could ever earn such luxury +for either of us? D’Or’s supply of gold seems inexhaustible—and he +spends with a knowing hand. + +MOREAU. A pleasant fellow, our host! My only regret is that he +sympathizes with the scoundrels who constitute the present ministry. If +I could only get him to support the Opposition, we should have the +Premier’s resignation within a week! + +LEMAIRE. Try him, Moreau! It’s worth working for! I believe that the +mere mention of D’Or’s name as an adherent of our party would overturn +the authority of the Premier. Try to have a quiet talk with him before +you go—and let me know how you succeed. + +MOREAU. I shall do it; with D’Or on our side the cause is as good as +won! And then, Lemaire, a brighter day shall dawn for our country. We +shall once more lead the way to higher and nobler achievement. [_Enter_ +D’OR.] + +D’OR. You see, my friends, I have not kept you waiting long. Perhaps you +would care to partake of some refreshment? + +MOREAU. No, thank you. Like most poets, I think most clearly on an empty +stomach. + +D’OR. With many poets compulsion and not choice develops that opinion. +And you, M. Lemaire? + +LEMAIRE. [_With a significant look at_ MOREAU.] I think I shall cater a +bit to the inner man. I shall rejoin you later. _Au revoir!_ [_Exit_ +LEMAIRE.] + +D’OR. Well, my dear Moreau, on what are you working now? I hope you are +not as destitute of plans as our good friend Lemaire? + +MOREAU. No; I am writing a new poem which I hope to finish shortly. + +D’OR. May I enquire the nature of your subject? + +MOREAU. Certainly. I am seeking to glorify the future of our country and +to blaze the way toward the realization of its noblest ideals. +[_Slowly._] Of course, such a dream is impossible under existing +conditions. + +D’OR. You mean the present ministry? + +MOREAU. Yes. They are a group of detestable politicians who make all +great questions of state subservient to their own schemes for personal +power and profit. + +D’OR. I think you are a little unfair to the Premier and his associates. +You must not forget that every party when out of office rails against +those in control. + +MOREAU. But the Opposition stands upon a firm foundation of integrity +and high moral purpose. + +D’OR. Mere vaporing, my dear Moreau. The minority is always respectable. +It’s their only chance to regain the ascendancy. If your Opposition +should triumph they would soon be drunk with power and the present party +could successfully parade its manifold virtues before the public. + +MOREAU. So you really believe that in the long run there can be no +improvement in government? + +D’OR. Yes, if you choose to put it thus; and my advice to you is that +you join the party in power. You have too much talent to squander your +life in the service of a hopeless Opposition. + +MOREAU. Hopeless? I thought that possibly you might be induced to join +our cause—to become the patron of a new and better order of things. + +D’OR. [_Apparently ignoring the remark._] Of course, the ministry has +antagonized the visionaries—idealists like yourself, who dream of +Utopian governments, but who have little or no experience in practical +affairs. + +MOREAU. An instinctive sense of right and wrong is the best equipment +for a statesman. + +D’OR. There speaks the poet! Now, may I tell you in confidence what +really does constitute the best equipment for a statesman? + +MOREAU. [_Curiously._] What is it? + +D’OR. [_Deliberately._] Knowledge of the fact that his party has the +approval of the Blausteins! + +MOREAU. [_Astounded._] The approval of a banking-house! + +D’OR. The approval of the greatest power in the world—unlimited gold. + +MOREAU. It seems hardly credible! The utter corruption of the existing +state of affairs is beyond my comprehension. + +D’OR. M. Moreau, let us talk sensibly about these things. I like your +poetry very much; I admire everything about you except your political +sentiments. Why do you not put your fine talent to better use? + +MOREAU. What better use is there than devotion to the popular welfare? + +D’OR. Nonsense. The people for whom you write cannot appreciate the +subtlety of your thought nor the nobility of your inspired poetic +nights. They place a scant value upon your efforts. The present +government honors its friends more highly. A poem in praise of the +ministry would bring you greater material reward and more renown than +ten years of labor for the ungrateful Opposition. + +MOREAU. M. D’Or, I am devoted to our cause; I would not write a poem in +commendation of the present ministry for fifty thousand francs. + +D’OR. [_Alert._] You would not? + +MOREAU. No. It would be treason to the people. + +D’OR. How long would you labor for the popular cause before you earned +fifty thousand francs with your pen? + +MOREAU. Five years at least. + +D’OR. And you are unwilling to purchase a release from five years of +drudgery by a single effort because of a conscientious scruple? You are +indeed a patriot. + +MOREAU. I wish merely to be true to myself. + +D’OR. [_Slowly._] M. Moreau, what would you do if some one were to offer +you—say one hundred thousand francs for a poem over your signature +addressed to the Premier and commending the present government? + +MOREAU. [_Aghast._] One hundred thousand francs! The question is +ridiculous. You are trying to entrap me. + +D’OR. The question is not ridiculous. I offer you that sum! + +MOREAU. Are you serious? + +D’OR. I shall not mince words. The government seeks the support of its +most intelligent and most gifted people. You are one of these. The +government would not, however, pay you such an amount as I have +mentioned; that sum represents my personal gratification at the prospect +of numbering M. Moreau among the champions of the ministry. + +MOREAU. You are bribing me! + +D’OR. I am not. I am telling you that there is fame and substantial +reward for the adherents of the government; there is futile effort and +wasted opportunity for the Opposition. You are a sane man; which do you +choose? + +MOREAU. But to write such a poem is a manifest renunciation of my high +principles of conduct. + +D’OR. To write such a poem is a declaration to the world that you have +become a conservative. Are you familiar with that word ‘conservative’? +It is a word of excellent savor and of good repute. A man who betrays a +cause is justly styled a renegade or a traitor; but a man who has held +visionary views concerning government or society, and who as a result of +maturer deliberation rejects such fallacies and becomes an adherent of +the existing social order may properly be styled a conservative. That’s +the worst they can say about you—and the reward is the price of ten +years’ hard labor with the pen. + +MOREAU. [_Bewildered._] One hundred thousand francs! I can see it in +every journal in Paris! ‘M. Moreau joins the conservatives!’ One hundred +thousand francs! + +D’OR. [_Jestingly._] You will note that there is nothing conservative in +the sum I am offering you. I should call it liberal—decidedly liberal! + +MOREAU. [_Brokenly._] After all, perhaps you’re right. Lemaire will +think I’m a cur—but I accept your offer. I may live to regret this step, +but I cannot resist you. I shall write your poem and I shall mean every +word that I say. Henceforth I am one of your party. There is no future +for me elsewhere. I want you to understand that I am completely within +your ranks. I will not be a hireling, to puff the Premier in a single +insincere poem. You have not bought a poem, M. D’Or—you have bought me, +body and soul. Do you understand? + +D’OR. [_Quietly._] Yes. It was you I was bidding for. + +MOREAU. [_More wildly._] It’s a serious matter, this tearing one’s self +out by the roots. I must have time for reflection. Pardon me, M. D’Or, +it is growing oppressive here—I must have fresh air. I cannot meet +Lemaire just now. You shall have your poem—a poem from the depths of my +heart. It’s fresh air I need—fresh air! [_He staggers out with a groan._ +D’OR _looks after him and smiles strangely. He draws a handful of gold +coins from his pocket and is about to jingle them when_ LEMAIRE +_enters_. D’OR _replaces the coins quickly_.] + +LEMAIRE. You are alone! I expected to find M. Moreau with you. + +D’OR. [_Coolly._] He left me only a moment ago. Have you partaken of the +luncheon? + +LEMAIRE. Yes, and chatted with some of your delightful guests. I am +grateful to find so many recognized Liberals among them. Are you being +converted? + +D’OR. By no means—but I like to know intimately all points of view. It’s +part of one’s education, after all. I try to make these gatherings as +varied as possible and to give free rein to the expression of opinion. +Did you hear nothing that might arouse renewed inspiration for another +great painting? + +LEMAIRE. [_Gloomily._] I shall probably grope long in the dark before I +find another subject as striking as ‘Death in Life’! + +D’OR. Surely, there are many themes available? + +LEMAIRE. Few that I should care to depict. I shall paint nothing +ignoble, nothing degrading. If my brush is not destined to uplift and to +glorify mankind, I shall cast it aside. + +D’OR. A noble ideal, indeed; but ideals are evanescent in this corrupt +old world of ours. + +LEMAIRE. Are they not about all that is worth while? + +D’OR. Rather too unsubstantial, I should say. After all, an artist must +labor for his bread and butter. Of course, he may be so absorbed in his +ideals that he ignores the gross commercial value of his inspiration and +its product. I am told you sold your ‘Death in Life’ for a trifle—yet it +is your finest picture. + +LEMAIRE. I have no regrets. The ‘Death in Life’ was sold to a collector +while it still hung in my studio. He offered two thousand francs—I +needed the money and accepted. Had I anticipated the success of the +picture in the _Salon_, I might have asked more. + +D’OR. That picture would have been cheap at ten thousand francs. Perhaps +you do not know that I offered your lucky purchaser twice that sum—and +it was refused! + +LEMAIRE. Twenty thousand francs for my painting! + +D’OR. Yes, and it was refused. [_After a pause._] I have an idea, M. +Lemaire—a good one. Will you paint me a companion piece to ‘Death in +Life’? + +LEMAIRE. A companion piece? + +D’OR. Yes. You might call it ‘Life in Death’ by way of contrast. I will +give you thirty thousand francs for such a painting, if you permit me to +suggest the subject. + +LEMAIRE. You are willing to pay that price for a painting of mine? + +D’OR. I have an object in view. I wish to make the other painting +ridiculous, so that the purchaser may be willing to part with it. + +LEMAIRE. I do not quite understand— + +D’OR. Why should you? It is but necessary that you accept my offer. + +LEMAIRE. Of course I accept! It is many times more than I have ever +received for a painting, but you are a rich man, a noble patron of the +arts. Have you chosen your subject? + +D’OR. You agree to be bound to it? + +LEMAIRE. Yes. It is to be called ‘Life in Death,’ I understand, and is +to represent— + +D’OR. [_Slowly._] A dead rat lying in a foul gutter! + +LEMAIRE. [_With a cry._] You are mad, M. D’Or! + +D’OR. Not at all. I think it’s a rather good subject to accomplish my +purpose. I would like you to represent the rat as putrescent— + +LEMAIRE. [_Horrified._] Stop, monsieur! You are insulting me. I shall +hear no more of that. + +D’OR. You gave your promise. + +LEMAIRE. Yes, to paint a picture—not to execute a mad vagary of yours. + +D’OR. I don’t expect my realistic theme to conform with your airy +ideals, but think of the money I intend to pay you for this painting. + +LEMAIRE. It won’t do. I must refuse. + +D’OR. [_Firmly._] I intend to have that dead rat, M. Lemaire! + +LEMAIRE. Then you must get some one else to paint it. + +D’OR. I intend that you shall paint it. Perhaps I estimate realism too +cheaply. I offer you forty thousand francs for the rat! + +LEMAIRE. [_Almost in a whisper._] Forty thousand francs! To drag my +reputation as an artist through the slime? + +D’OR. No. To initiate you into a new and profitable school of art. Do +you not realize that mankind has a natural craving for the unclean and +the depraved? Mine will not be your last commission in the realistic +style. Remember that I am offering you twenty times as much as you +received for your ‘Death in Life.’ If any one asks you why you painted +‘Life in Death,’ tell them it is a parody on the original, executed at +my order. + +LEMAIRE. [_Hesitating._] If I did not need the money so badly, I +would—[_Suddenly._] I’ll do it—I’ll do it for you, M. D’Or. I cannot +help myself. [_Beating his forehead._] A dead rat—Great Heavens!—a dead +rat! [_He rushes out wildly._ D’OR _is about to jingle the gold as +before, but feels that he cannot. He mops his brow with his handkerchief +and seems somewhat distracted. Meanwhile_ HÉLÈNE VAUX, _a charming girl +of eighteen, dressed simply in white, enters quietly and gazes strangely +at_ D’OR _as if to fathom his thoughts_.] + +D’OR. [_Observing her._] Mlle. Vaux! I did not hear you come in. + +HÉLÈNE. [_Timidly._] Pardon me, M. D’Or. I am looking for my father. + +D’OR. Surely you will not deny me the pleasure of a few words with you. +I am always glad to see you here with your father, but you seem desirous +of avoiding me. + +HÉLÈNE. [_Nervously._] No!—I— + +D’OR. My sole object on such occasions as this is to make my guests +happy—to entertain them in a way that will ever be a pleasant memory in +the days to come; yet you always seem apprehensive of harm— + +HÉLÈNE. I cannot explain. It seems so strange that you—[_She stops +helplessly. They gaze fixedly at each other._] + +D’OR. [_After a pause._] Eleanor! [_He seems entranced._] + +HÉLÈNE. Why do you call me Eleanor? My name is Hélène. + +D’OR. [_Embarrassed._] Pardon me, Mlle. Vaux. I once knew some one of +that name. You resemble her—you bring back fleeting memories of the +past. + +HÉLÈNE. [_Ill at ease._] I do not understand—I must find my father. +[_She goes off hastily._ D’OR _sits down at the right and rests his head +on his hand as if dazed. He does not notice_ BAPTISTE _who enters_.] + +BAPTISTE. M. D’Or! [_Louder._] M. D’Or! [_A pause._] + +D’OR. [_Recovering himself._] Baptiste! + +BAPTISTE. Mme. Dacier asked me to give you this note. + +D’OR. [_Takes it._] Very well. [BAPTISTE _bows himself out_. D’OR _opens +the envelope and draws out a card which he reads_.] ‘To-morrow at +two—Cyprienne.’ [_He quickly thrusts the card into his waistcoat pocket. +His demeanor instantly changes. He is completely aroused from his +trance._ VAUX _enters at the centre_.] Ah! M. Vaux, your daughter is +looking for you! + +VAUX. I have been neglecting her all morning. I thought she was talking +to Mme. Clary a few moments ago. + +D’OR. Your daughter is a most attractive girl—one in a thousand. I +congratulate you, M. Vaux, on the possession of such a jewel. + +VAUX. [_Pleased._] Yes, Hélène is a good girl—my chief consolation since +her mother was taken away. It is my one regret that I cannot give her +the musical training that her talents merit. + +D’OR. Surely she has teachers? + +VAUX. The best that my purse allows, but not the best to be had. We +musicians cannot hope to win great wealth, yet I still have hopes that +when my new symphonic poem is brought out— + +D’OR. A new composition! I am glad to hear of it. + +VAUX. It is almost completed. I have been laboring on it for many years. +It was begun in the first hours of grief after the loss of Hélène’s +mother. I have put my very soul into that score! + +D’OR. Have you a program in mind? + +VAUX. I shall call it ‘The Conqueror’—the record of a storm-tossed soul +that works its way through peril and temptation to the triumphant +heights of its ideal. You see how much of a dreamer I am, but I love the +idea of the conquering soul—the personality that dominates and directs. + +D’OR. [_Much interested._] That is a very fascinating idea—the +personality that dominates! I am sure you will win fame with ‘The +Conqueror.’ Have you sought to glorify a particular hero in your +composition? + +VAUX. No. It would be difficult to find a man who represents my ideal +conqueror—who reaches the heights unspotted with the stains of the +battle. + +D’OR. The more I think of your idea, the more it pleases me. I always +have sought to be such a conqueror as you have in mind—a man of +commanding position and so equipped as to become a directing +intelligence in the affairs of the world. This may sound boastful, M. +Vaux, but I have a reason for speaking thus. + +VAUX. [_Bewildered._] I do not understand— + +D’OR. You say that you have no particular hero in mind to whom you are +addressing your symphonic poem. Would it be presumptuous on my part to +say that I should feel honored to have such a composition dedicated to +me? Let me explain more fully, M. Vaux—there need be no reserve. I have +abundance of the wealth that you in common with others find so useful; +you have a talent that can immortalize the man to whom your compositions +are addressed. If you were to honor me with the dedication of ‘The +Conqueror’ I should see that every resource were at the disposal of +Mlle. Vaux for her thorough musical training. + +VAUX. For Hélène’s education? + +D’OR. It would be a trifle for me, M. Vaux; to you it would represent +long hours of arduous toil. Thus each of us can serve the other. + +VAUX. [_Anxious not to offend._] I must confess that I had a very +different ideal of ‘The Conqueror’—pardon my bluntness, but my hero +typified spiritual achievement, not the conquests of material wealth. + +D’OR. Of course—I understand. Spiritual achievement has a pleasant sound +and at one time in the world’s history it probably meant something; but +we are living in a very different age. The real conquerors of to-day are +the men who act as stewards of the world’s great wealth. I can buy you +any man you may name, heart and soul. It is merely a question of price— + +VAUX. [_Horrified._] M. D’Or! + +D’OR. I know it sounds scandalous, but it is true—I have demonstrated my +power. There are no conquests in this world like the conquests of +material wealth. + +VAUX. [_Sadly._] I have lived in this world many more years than you, M. +D’Or—I know the weakness of humanity. There is much truth in what you +say; but we artists have not done our duty if we are content to depict +the world as we find it—if we do not point the way to higher ideals— + +D’OR. [_Impatiently._] A truce to your ideals! I have heard more than +enough this morning about ideals! I have just made you a substantial and +flattering offer; you seem inclined to treat me in turn to a +conventional discussion on the nature of the artistic impulse. You are a +poor man, M. Vaux, though a talented one. You have a daughter whose +future welfare is largely concerned in your answer to my offer. Are you +foolish enough to hesitate? + +VAUX. I appreciate fully what your offer means, but people will +understand by my dedication that I desire to uphold you as the type of +‘The Conqueror’— + +D’OR. And why not? + +VAUX. Because I had a very different conqueror in mind—one whose career +typified a conquest by spiritual resource, by unfailing courage— + +D’OR. [_Suddenly but with deliberation._] M. Vaux, do you love your +daughter Hélène? Are you mindful of her future—of the years when you +will no longer be here to protect her? + +VAUX. [_Completely broken._] I can struggle against you no longer. You +have triumphed! ‘The Conqueror’ shall be dedicated to you! + +D’OR. [_Smoothly._] I appreciate the honor, especially since there was +no haggling over terms. Rest assured, M. Vaux, you will have no occasion +to regret your trust in my generosity. + +VAUX. [_Subdued._] I have done it for my Hélène. [_He sits on the sofa, +right, and seems overcome with emotion._ HÉLÈNE _enters and takes a half +kneeling position on the mat at his feet. She places a small autograph +album on his lap._] + +HÉLÈNE. Father, I have been searching for you. Mme. Clary wishes your +autograph. Isn’t it an honor! Just look at the famous names—artists, +poets, musicians— + +VAUX. [_Takes a fountain pen from his pocket and writes._] Mme. Clary is +very kind to ask your father to enroll himself in this record of genius. +[_Turning the pages._] What is this? M. D’Or, I find your name here! + +D’OR. [_With a smile._] Indeed! Does it appear out of place among your +brilliant assemblage of earth’s talented sons? + +VAUX. No, no! Do not misunderstand me! I thought it was merely a +collection of artists’ autographs. I am pleased to see it includes at +least one generous patron of the arts. [_To_ HÉLÈNE.] Hélène, we are +much indebted to M. D’Or. He will make it possible for me to give you +the best masters for your musical training. + +HÉLÈNE. [_Rising._] You could not accept such an offer? + +VAUX. [_Embarrassed._] I am dedicating ‘The Conqueror’ to M. D’Or. It +has pleased him to express his generous intentions in return. + +HÉLÈNE. [_Turning on_ D’OR _with unexpected energy_.] ‘The Conqueror’! +[_Reproachfully._] M. D’Or, you have taken advantage of an old man. + +D’OR. Taken advantage! Those are hard words for one who has your welfare +at heart. I am enabling your father to provide amply for you; indirectly +I am helping you to make the most of life, to win fame and position if +the talent abides within you. This you call taking advantage of your +father! + +HÉLÈNE. M. D’Or, we are here as your guests. I cannot speak frankly. + +D’OR. If I have offended you, my roof shall not save me from your +reproaches. Speak as freely as you will and tell me honestly why you +despise my offer. + +VAUX. Hélène, I beseech you, be careful how you answer. + +HÉLÈNE. [_To_ D’OR.] You see how thoroughly you have subdued my poor +father! He fears that my frankness will forfeit the bounty you are +disposed to heap upon us. You wish me to speak freely? + +D’OR. By all means. + +HÉLÈNE. Very well. M. D’Or, I fear the intention of your apparent +kindness. + +D’OR. Why do you say that? + +HÉLÈNE. A few moments ago I passed M. Moreau in the corridor—Moreau, the +brave champion of the people—and I heard him say that he had changed his +political views, and now felt morally obliged to support the ministry! + +VAUX. [_Astonished._] Moreau a conservative! Impossible! + +D’OR. What have I to do with Moreau’s politics? + +HÉLÈNE. [_Watching him closely._] I cannot help thinking that you had a +hand in his sudden change of faith. + +D’OR. [_Carelessly._] Why should I deny it? You would not believe me. + +HÉLÈNE. [_Coming closer._] M. D’Or, I would believe you, if I heard you +deny it! Do you deny it? + +D’OR. [_Without flinching, looking steadily at her._] Mlle. Vaux, I +admire your courage; I marvel at your penetration. I shall tell you the +truth. I bought that fellow Moreau for so much gold. He’s my man now and +he’ll take my orders when I give them. [VAUX _groans_.] + +HÉLÈNE. Father, do you hear what M. D’Or says? [_To_ D’OR.] Is there +nothing else on your conscience? Are you aware that M. Lemaire is +astonishing your guests by incoherent ravings about dead rats and +foul-smelling gutters? + +D’OR. [_Steadily._] It’s the subject for his next painting. The fellow +is executing it at my commission. I chose the subject, and I pay him his +price. [VAUX _groans again_.] + +HÉLÈNE. [_To_ VAUX.] Are you still inclined to dedicate ‘The Conqueror’ +to M. D’Or? + +VAUX. I have given my promise. + +D’OR. I shall release you from that promise if Mlle. Vaux requests it. + +HÉLÈNE. I do not request it. After all, you are a conqueror—you have +triumphed over my unhappy father just as you overcame those other frail +souls and dragged them to the earth. + +D’OR. I release your father from his promise. His conqueror is a vain +seeker after empty ideals. M. Vaux, you may dedicate your symphonic +flight to whom you will, but I beg you to let me carry out at least my +part of our compact. [VAUX _looks eagerly at_ HÉLÈNE _to reply_.] + +HÉLÈNE. You have made that impossible for us, M. D’Or. We cannot accept +your generosity. [_To_ VAUX.] We must not stay here any longer. Let us +go home. + +D’OR. Can we not remain friends? Will you not permit the resources of my +wealth to prove my friendship? + +HÉLÈNE. [_More softly._] The best way to befriend you, M. D’Or, is to +prove to you the futility of your wealth. Come, father. + +VAUX. Good-bye, M. D’Or. [_He offers his hand._] + +D’OR. Good-bye. [_He looks at_ HÉLÈNE.] + +HÉLÈNE. [_After a pause extends her hand._] Good-bye. Are you not +convinced? + +D’OR. Not yet—but you are very kind to me. [_He kisses her hand._] + +VAUX. [_Near the entrance, as if inspired._] M. D’Or, at last I know to +whom I shall dedicate ‘The Conqueror.’ + +D’OR. To whom? + +VAUX. [_Taking_ HÉLÈNE’S _hand_.] To my daughter Hélène! [_They go out +quickly._] + +D’OR. [_Somewhat seriously, after a pause._] Perhaps the old man is +right—and perhaps he is not! [_Laughs cynically and puts his hand as if +by instinct to his waistcoat pocket. He draws out_ CYPRIENNE’S _card and +reads it again_.] ‘To-morrow at two—Cyprienne.’ [_He kisses the card as +the curtain falls._] + + + + + SCENE III + + +[_A private parlor in the Hotel Royal, Interlaken. The room is +handsomely furnished in dark red. There are wide double doors in the +centre with elaborate panels on either side. On the left side there is +an exit and a fireplace in which a fire is burning. On the right there +is a window overlooking the street below. There is also an exit further +front. The furniture is appropriate for a business meeting. A large +central table is flanked by five armchairs. There is a large armchair, +left; also a small table with an adjacent chair, right. As the curtain +rises one central door opens slowly and_ CLAIRE LASALLE _peers in +nervously. Seeing no one, she enters and closes the door softly behind +her. She is dressed in black, with a white collar, and carries a small +leather writing pad. Her demeanor is that of a person undertaking a +delicate and difficult mission. She goes to the door, right, and knocks +cautiously. Receiving no answer, she stands for a moment, centre, in +evident indecision, then advances to the door, left, and knocks. The +door is opened and_ M. D’OR _steps in. He wears black satin +knee-breeches and a fancy house-jacket, heavily trimmed with gold +braid._ CLAIRE _hurriedly draws a card from her pad and hands it to_ +D’OR.] + +CLAIRE. M. D’Or? + +D’OR. Yes. [_Reads the card._] ‘Mlle. Claire Lasalle, stenographer.’ +[_He looks at her curiously, then at the card._] Ah! the Blausteins! I +must confess I hardly expected them to send a lady! [_He bows._] + +CLAIRE. The Blausteins desire a verbatim report of the meeting. + +D’OR. Are you familiar with such commissions as this? + +CLAIRE. [_Smiling._] Yes. [_She looks about._] You must place me where I +can write unmolested. It is not necessary that I should see them. My +hearing is acute. [_She indicates the door, right._] Is that room +available? + +D’OR. Yes. + +CLAIRE. They are likely to insist on locked doors. You might let me lock +myself in. I can open the door slightly after the conference has begun. + +D’OR. Very well. I shall turn the knob as a signal to you that we are +about to begin. Be very careful, mademoiselle! + +CLAIRE. Have no fear. Such experience is not new to me. + +D’OR. Do you know them—Muirhead, Graefflingen, and the rest? + +CLAIRE. All but Andriev. He is a stranger to me. You expect them at +three? We have little time to spare. + +D’OR. You’re right. I shall make you comfortable before they arrive. +[_He crosses to the right._] You will pardon my appearance, Mlle. +Lasalle—I was dressing for this conference when you knocked. + +CLAIRE. Certainly. Do not let me detain you. [_He goes off, right, +meanwhile she opens her leather pad and gets her pencils ready. In a +moment_ D’OR _returns_.] + +D’OR. I have placed a chair for you just beside the door. [_After a +pause._] Really, I cannot quite grasp the idea that a woman should be +entrusted with diplomatic work of this character. + +CLAIRE. [_Facetiously._] There are women and women. + +D’OR. And, moreover, a few rarely endowed young ladies who can keep +secrets—important secrets of state. Mademoiselle, I congratulate you! I +hope the Blausteins pay you adequately for such unusual services. + +CLAIRE. [_Simply._] A thousand francs a session. + +D’OR. Will you permit me to double it this time? + +CLAIRE. [_Surprised, but on her guard._] Why should you? + +D’OR. [_Ingenuously._] Why shouldn’t I? + +CLAIRE. [_Sharply._] M. D’Or, the thousand francs that the Blausteins +pay me are sufficiently tainted. I’ve sunk about as low as I care to. +Does that answer your question? + +D’OR. Your cleverness assures me that the Blausteins do not appreciate +you at your real worth. + +CLAIRE. Perhaps you’re right—but I had the privilege of naming the +degree and the price of my corruption, so I have no cause for complaint. +May I take my place in the next room? + +D’OR. Certainly. [_He throws open the door, right, for her._] Make +yourself comfortable, while I hurry into the rest of my official dress. +[_She passes out._] But let me first test our arrangement. [_He adjusts +the door to a very slight aperture._] There! How is that? [_He crosses +to the left side and faces the door, right._] Now, mademoiselle, can you +hear me distinctly at this distance? + +CLAIRE. [_Within._] Yes, quite plainly. + +D’OR. Can you hear me when I say that my offer of that extra thousand +francs will hold good after the conference if you should see fit to take +it? [_No answer. He draws a little nearer._] Perhaps you would hear +better if I said two thousand francs! + +CLAIRE. [_Throwing the door wide open and stepping into the room._] M. +D’Or, we two—you and I—are about to engage in a very contemptible +business here. I am being paid my price; I trust you are getting yours. +There should be some show of mutual respect even among the corrupt. If +you annoy me further, I may be tempted to step out during your little +conference to expose you for the despicable creature that you are! + +D’OR. [_With a deprecatory gesture._] Pray retire, mademoiselle, to your +post of vantage. I shall risk no further verbal fusillade from that +accomplished tongue of yours. + +CLAIRE. [_With a sneer._] Where did the Blausteins find you? They have +the reputation of employing agents who attend strictly to the business +at hand. Let us see if you can live up to that standard! [_She goes off, +right, and closes the door with a bang. The lock clicks audibly._ D’OR +_shrugs his shoulders and goes off, left, shaking his head. For a few +moments the stage is empty. A knock is heard at the centre door. It is +repeated, then the door opens and_ HERR LOBEN _steps in. He draws out +his watch._] + +LOBEN. None here yet! I have the honor to be the first. [_He crosses to +the table, right, and puts down a red portfolio. A moment later_ MR. +GILBERT _enters, carrying a similar black portfolio_. LOBEN’S _back is +turned_.] + +GILBERT. Herr Loben, I believe? + +LOBEN. [_Turning._] Ah—you are the secretary of Sir Mortimer +Muirhead—let me see—Mr.— + +GILBERT. Mr. Gilbert. + +LOBEN. Yes! Good afternoon, Mr. Gilbert. I infer that Sir Mortimer is to +be at this mysterious conference? + +GILBERT. [_He places his portfolio on the centre table and examines his +papers._] Yes. Is Baron Graefflingen also to be here? + +LOBEN. I expect him every moment. [_He goes to the window and looks out. +Comes back and watches_ GILBERT _with his papers, then, after a pause, +speaks as if in confidence_.] I say, Mr. Gilbert, do you know what it’s +all about? + +GILBERT. [_Carelessly._] What? This meeting with M. D’Or? + +LOBEN. Yes. Do you know him? + +GILBERT. I have seen him once or twice at the consulate. He is +enormously rich—one of the Blaustein coterie. + +LOBEN. Ah! so this is a Blaustein affair! I thought as much. Marquis +Pallot and Count Andriev are also to be here. Quite an international +gathering, eh? + +GILBERT. [_Absently, busy with his papers._] Yes, quite so. +[_Suddenly._] What’s that you’re saying? Pallot and Andriev? + +LOBEN. I thought you took it rather mildly. Yes, both of them. [_A +pause._] Do you suspect anything? + +GILBERT. What do you mean? + +LOBEN. Don’t you imagine that something is on foot when such a +distinguished array of diplomatic talent gathers to receive orders from +the Blausteins— + +GILBERT. [_Springing up._] To receive orders—from the Blausteins? Herr +Loben, that is too absurd— + +LOBEN. [_With a shrug._] How long have you been Sir Mortimer’s +secretary? + +GILBERT. Six months. + +LOBEN. Still a youngster in diplomacy, eh? I have been with Baron +Graefflingen for—let me see—seven years this winter. + +GILBERT. Well? + +LOBEN. Only this, Mr. Gilbert. To-day is not the first time that I hear +the name of the Blausteins. + +GILBERT. Possibly not! But you spoke of their giving orders— + +LOBEN. I hate to disillusion you—there was a time when I felt about +things as you do now—those were the days of my diplomatic innocence. +[_Motor-horn is heard outside._ LOBEN _goes to the window_.] It’s your +principal, Sir Mortimer. + +GILBERT. [_Looks at his watch._] He’s on time. It lacks a minute or two +of three. + +LOBEN. [_Coming forward._] He evidently doesn’t believe in keeping an +emissary of the Blausteins waiting. [GILBERT _is annoyed_.] No offense, +Mr. Gilbert—the others won’t be long in following him. [_Enter_ SIR +MORTIMER MUIRHEAD _at the centre_.] + +MUIRHEAD. [_Nods to_ GILBERT, _then turns to_ LOBEN.] Good afternoon, +Herr Loben. Graefflingen’s coming? + +LOBEN. [_Politely._] Yes, Sir Mortimer. He should be here now. + +MUIRHEAD. [_To_ GILBERT.] You have sent off the dispatches? + +GILBERT. Yes; they went this morning. I have received a wire confirming +your reservations at Geneva for next week. + +MUIRHEAD. Very good. [_To_ LOBEN.] I believe Baron Graefflingen is one +of your delegates to the Geneva Conference? + +LOBEN. Yes, he heads the delegation; our government is sending six +representatives. [_Motor-horn is heard_; LOBEN _goes to the window as +before_.] Here comes the Baron! [_He looks out._] I’m wrong! It’s +Marquis Pallot and Count Andriev! + +MUIRHEAD. Count Andriev! + +LOBEN. Yes, Sir Mortimer. They are both expected. + +MUIRHEAD. [_To_ GILBERT.] Have you seen nothing of M. D’Or? + +GILBERT. I asked before I came up. The attendants informed me that he +had taken a suite here at the hotel. [_Enter_ PALLOT _and_ ANDRIEV.] + +PALLOT. Good afternoon, Sir Mortimer. [_He nods slightly to the +others._] You know Count Andriev? + +MUIRHEAD. I have the honor. [ANDRIEV _bows_.] My secretary, Mr. +Gilbert—Herr Loben, secretary to Baron Graefflingen. + +PALLOT. Are you familiar with the circumstances that bring us together +to-day, Sir Mortimer? + +MUIRHEAD. I know absolutely nothing except that the note from Paris asks +me to meet M. D’Or at three this afternoon. + +ANDRIEV. My note read, ‘M. D’Or of the house of Blaustein.’ + +MUIRHEAD. Of course—mine also! [_Laughing._] Otherwise what claim would +the gentleman have upon our attention? [GILBERT _starts and avoids the +grinning glance of_ LOBEN.] + +PALLOT. I must say that I resent such a peremptory summons, coming from +such a source; but there is no alternative, I understand—we must simply +comply with the request. [LOBEN _coughs, and watches_ GILBERT’S _tense +face_.] + +ANDRIEV. We may as well be prepared for the Blaustein message—it +undoubtedly concerns the Geneva Conference of next week. [_Motor-horn is +heard again_; LOBEN _goes to the window_.] + +LOBEN. It is the Baron! + +MUIRHEAD. Graefflingen may be better informed than the rest of us. +Perhaps he may be able to throw some light upon the very unusual +procedure that brings us together. + +PALLOT. I doubt it. The Blausteins rarely take any one into their +confidence. They say nothing till they are ready to talk, but +then—[_Enter_ GRAEFFLINGEN.] + +GRAEFFLINGEN. Good afternoon, gentlemen. Am I late? [_He shakes hands +with the diplomats and nods to_ GILBERT.] M. D’Or has not yet appeared? + +MUIRHEAD. No. We’ve been counting on you, Baron, to tell us what it’s +all about. + +GRAEFFLINGEN. I cannot speak with any authority, but from a dispatch +received this morning I infer that the Blausteins are not pleased with +certain details of the international agreement that will probably be +adopted at Geneva next week. + +PALLOT. [_Looking at his watch._] I do not know how soon M. D’Or is +likely to join us—but I believe it would be advisable among ourselves to +oppose any material alteration in the Geneva agreement. + +MUIRHEAD. A united front might strengthen our position very much, if we +only knew what particular part of the agreement the Blausteins are +likely to assail. + +ANDRIEV. I propose, gentlemen, that when M. D’Or arrives and explains +the Blaustein views, we shall take the cue from one of our own number. I +suggest Sir Mortimer as the leader of our united forces. + +PALLOT. That seems to be most desirable. If we do not stand together +there is not the least likelihood of our accomplishing much with M. +D’Or. + +GRAEFFLINGEN. I heartily concur in Count Andriev’s proposal. We must +keep the Blaustein emissary within bounds. + +MUIRHEAD. Gentlemen, I appreciate the honor that you are showing me. At +present we are groping in the dark—we do not as yet know the intentions +of M. D’Or. + +LOBEN. [_Warningly._] Sh—h!! [_A pause._ D’OR _enters at the left, +wearing an elaborate diplomatic uniform of black satin, with a broad +gold band across his bosom_.] + +D’OR. Good afternoon, gentlemen. [_Looking about._] One hardly needs +introduction to such a distinguished group. [_He shakes hands._] Sir +Mortimer, you are looking well—Baron Graefflingen—Marquis Pallot—Count +Andriev. [_He stops at the secretaries._] + +MUIRHEAD. Our secretaries, Mr. Gilbert and Herr Loben. + +D’OR. [_Shaking their hands._] It gives me pleasure to welcome the +future lights of diplomacy. + +GRAEFFLINGEN. Perhaps you prefer that our secretaries retire during our +conference? + +D’OR. Not at all, Baron—not at all. It will do the young men good to be +present. + +ANDRIEV. Are we safe from possible eavesdroppers? + +D’OR. [_Remembering_ CLAIRE.] Certainly, but we can assure ourselves by +locking the doors. [_He locks the door, left, and the central doors._] +This door is always kept locked, I believe. [_He goes to the door, +right, and very deliberately turns the knob several times. The others +present seem satisfied._] Shall we be seated? [_They take seats at the +central table_, D’OR _at the right end, then_ MUIRHEAD, PALLOT, ANDRIEV, +_and_ GRAEFFLINGEN. GILBERT _sits at the small table, right_; LOBEN _in +the armchair, left_.] Of course, we shall take no minutes of our +deliberation—everything is informal and secret. + +GRAEFFLINGEN. That is wise. This meeting must be regarded as absolutely +confidential among ourselves. + +ANDRIEV. I presume that it is agreed that no notes shall be taken by any +one present— + +THE OTHERS. Certainly—assuredly. [GILBERT _starts from his seat and +stares ahead of him_.] + +MUIRHEAD. What is the matter, Mr. Gilbert? + +GILBERT. Nothing, Sir Mortimer. Pardon me, I thought I heard a slight +creaking noise. I was mistaken! [_He resumes his seat. Throughout the +scene_ GILBERT _pays close attention, Loben twiddles his thumbs and +yawns_.] + +MUIRHEAD. [_To_ D’OR.] Have any others been invited, or is the group now +complete? + +D’OR. Quite complete, I assure you, Sir Mortimer. I dislike dealing with +a large group of men. A few sensible minds gathered around a table can +best transact important business. You have not been chosen at random, +gentlemen. The Blausteins desired the leading figure in each delegation +to be present to-day and I am happy to say that the choice has fallen +upon you. + +GRAEFFLINGEN. You are very complimentary, M. D’Or. + +D’OR. Not at all, my dear Baron. Men like yourself who are leaders in +shaping the destinies of their country are entitled to recognition and +honor—but to come down to the immediate business of our meeting. You are +all delegates to the Geneva Conference which assembles next week. Can +you tell me, Sir Mortimer, what the convention is expected to +accomplish? + +MUIRHEAD. From the program, of which you may have seen a copy, it is +evident that the principal purpose is to consider questions concerning +international arbitration and to effect by general agreement a reduction +of the active military forces maintained by our respective governments. + +D’OR. The first is a laudable object and I believe the Blausteins are in +hearty accord with the project. As for the second—is such a reduction +possible? + +MUIRHEAD. Not only possible, but very desirable; the military and naval +budgets are the most serious problems that concern our treasury +ministers. + +GRAEFFLINGEN. There is widespread dissatisfaction throughout Europe at +the enormous appropriation of funds for military purposes. It is our +thought that if the Geneva Conference cannot effect total disarmament, +it can at least bring about a material reduction in equipment for war. + +D’OR. It is proper that you should not misunderstand the attitude of the +Blausteins toward this great question. They do not desire to foment +strife among nations. As a matter of fact, they would not permit a +European war at this time. + +ANDRIEV. Would not _permit_ a war! Those are strong words, M. D’Or. + +D’OR. [_Smoothly._] None the less, the older diplomats present will +assure Count Andriev that my words are not stronger than the case +warrants. [_He looks about. There is an awkward pause._] I am sure the +general silence is the best proof of my assertion. + +PALLOT. Pardon my remark, M. D’Or, but I cannot understand why the +Blausteins should deprecate warfare, yet at the same time insist that +the nations maintain the highest military efficiency. + +D’OR. It was to explain just such matters as you have mentioned that our +little meeting of this afternoon was arranged. There are certain things +that cannot be openly discussed— + +MUIRHEAD. One moment, M. D’Or. Are you certain that you do not wish our +secretaries to retire before you go into details? + +D’OR. Assuredly not, Sir Mortimer. I particularly desire the young men +to remain. Diplomacy has many valuable lessons to teach. Here they can +learn some of them. + +GILBERT. [_Rising._] I should much prefer to retire if— + +D’OR. Nonsense! I want you to remain—I insist on it! [GILBERT _resumes +his seat_.] You are aware, gentlemen, of the extent to which the +Blausteins hold the bonds of your respective governments, but there is +another side to the story. A government does not borrow money except to +spend it. Now, while it undoubtedly pays the Blausteins to lend you +their gold, it pays them still better to become national contractors and +purveyors, thus getting back much of the actual money with an added +profit in the second transaction. + +PALLOT. By which you mean— + +D’OR. Simply this, gentlemen. The Blausteins have secured control of +your most important gun factories, your powder works, your saltpeter and +sulphur deposits, your mines. They control the firms that get most of +the contracts for the erection of fortifications and for furnishing the +munitions of war. In fact, they feed and clothe your soldiers, they +supply the horses— + +MUIRHEAD. Can this be possible? + +D’OR. Why should it surprise you? Is it not the most natural thing in +the world? The vast Blaustein millions cannot lie idle in the vaults. Is +there any wonder that with the accumulated surplus of three generations +of shrewd financiering, this insuperable power reaches out into new +fields to secure a firmer grasp upon the forces of civilization? + +MUIRHEAD. M. D’Or, may I ask you to state precisely what the Blausteins +desire of us, as far as the Geneva Conference is concerned? + +D’OR. Assuredly, Sir Mortimer. The Blausteins are aware that the Geneva +Conference will be watched with interest throughout the civilized world; +the press will report its proceedings in detail— + +ANDRIEV. [_Drily._] But not these proceedings—here, to-day! + +D’OR. No, that would never do. We must not give the rabble an +opportunity to peer behind the scenes; it might interfere with the +public performance. The Geneva Conference is presumably a gathering to +foster universal peace. + +GRAEFFLINGEN. Presumably! + +D’OR. Certainly, my dear Baron! Can anyone predict what such a gathering +will accomplish until the powers have sat in judgment upon it? + +PALLOT. And we are here to get the verdict of the _real_ powers and to +settle the fate of the Geneva Conference a full week before it begins! + +D’OR. You are unnecessarily bitter, gentlemen. I am surprised to find +such strange ideals in a group of experienced diplomats. This is no +fairy-tale world in which we are living—it is still the same old, +wicked, scandalous and hopeless Europe that it has always been. + +MUIRHEAD. I am afraid, M. D’Or, that you are being drawn away from the +answer to my question— + +D’OR. Thank you, Sir Mortimer—these idealists always make trouble. Now, +to the point. What the Blausteins particularly desire is that the Geneva +Conference shall not give the journalists a chance to become rampant. +Most of those vexatious pests are subsidized, but there are always +reckless fellows who have nothing to lose and who are ready to court +notoriety upon the slightest pretext. The Blausteins therefore want a +triumphant victory of the peace party at Geneva. + +THE OTHERS. [_Astounded._] The peace party! + +D’OR. You misunderstand me. They want you to talk peace, to sing peace, +to shout peace till you are exhausted. They want you to recommend +measures advising partial reduction of military equipment and eventual +disarmament in all countries, but at the same time they want it +distinctly understood by all that not one of those recommendations is to +be carried out at present. Just give each journalistic dog his bone to +gnaw, and when all is over, things will go on as they are. + +MUIRHEAD. [_Seriously._] Then what you suggest, M. D’Or, is that we +should go through the farce of gathering at Geneva next week as the +ostensible delegates of our respective governments, that we should adopt +those splendid measures that appeal to all of us, and then, to please +the Blausteins, we should nullify the work of the Conference by +permitting its recommendations to become a dead letter! It is no trifle +that you ask of us! + +ANDRIEV. [_Warmly._] Trifle! He is asking us to become the Blaustein +puppets! Are we here to take his orders? + +D’OR. [_Smoothly._] No, no, Count Andriev—not orders. I am not here to +issue any orders, least of all to such eminent diplomats as you. I am +simply telling you what the Blausteins desire; the rest I leave in your +hands. Perhaps some day you will better understand the significance of +the name of Blaustein! [GILBERT _springs up with a cry and with clenched +fists stands quivering before_ D’OR, _who has also risen_. MUIRHEAD +_quickly steps between them._] + +MUIRHEAD. Mr. Gilbert, you forget your place! You owe M. D’Or an +apology. [_The others have risen._] + +GILBERT. [_Tensely._] I—I could not control myself, Sir Mortimer— + +D’OR. [_Suavely._] Pray do not take this seriously, Sir Mortimer. Your +secretary owes me no apology. He did a very natural thing—I respect him +for it. [GILBERT _drops heavily into his chair holding his head in his +hands_. D’OR _watches him curiously. The rest resume their seats._ LOBEN +_twiddles his thumbs_.] Of course, it is very unpleasant—this mission of +mine. You can readily see that the Blausteins must protect their +interests. We are showing you how you can satisfy the clamors of your +people and silence the criticism of your newspapers by ostensibly +complying with the popular demand. After all, the execution of your +recommendations rests with others; you will do your duty at the +conference. + +ANDRIEV. Do you imagine that the people will tolerate this sort of +trickery forever? + +D’OR. Why not? The government that cannot control its masses by throwing +them an occasional sop is a confessed failure—it deserves to fall. Count +Andriev, your civic authorities have a most efficient ally in that +universal force known as human nature. When your aristocrats engage +against the rabble in that great game of skill popularly known as +maintaining the government it is your own fault if you do not win; the +dice are always loaded in your favor. + +ANDRIEV. Suppose we should refuse to be parties to your plan? + +D’OR. [_Looking around._] If you personally are eager to defy the +Blausteins, you will probably find that the rest of the gentlemen +present are not similarly inclined. [_An uneasy silence._] + +ANDRIEV. [_Bitterly._] Evidently, you are right! Heaven help the nations +that have to take orders from the Blausteins! Is there anything further, +M. D’Or? + +D’OR. Nothing except that I wish to express my thanks to all of you for +meeting me here this afternoon. I hope that we part as friends? + +PALLOT. Assuredly, M. D’Or. We must remember that you are merely the +representative of the Blausteins and in no sense personally responsible +for the policy which they have adopted. It would be absurd to harbor any +personal resentment against you. [_Offers his hand._] I wish you good +afternoon! + +ANDRIEV. [_Likewise shakes hands._] I have used hard words here this +afternoon—they were intended for the Blausteins, not for M. D’Or. Good +day! [D’OR _unlocks the central doors, and Pallot and Andriev go off +together_.] + +D’OR. [_To_ GRAEFFLINGEN.] Well, Baron, are you as kindly disposed as +these others? [_They shake hands. He turns to_ LOBEN.] I suppose you +have learned a new lesson in the science of diplomacy? + +LOBEN. [_Wearily._] Bless you, no indeed! I have been in diplomacy for +seventeen years; I have become hardened to such incidents as this. It’s +getting a bit monotonous. I wish there were some new forms of political +corruption—they might prove interesting! + +D’OR. I congratulate you, Baron, on your very blasé secretary. Such a +man must be a treasure in your profession. + +GRAEFFLINGEN. Good afternoon, M. D’Or. [_To_ MUIRHEAD.] Sir Mortimer, do +you remain at Interlaken? + +MUIRHEAD. No, I leave for Lucerne this evening. I shall spend a few days +at the _Kaiserhof_ before going to Geneva. + +GRAEFFLINGEN. I was about to ask you to dine with me. I am sorry you are +leaving so soon. Good afternoon! [LOBEN _has meanwhile shaken hands +with_ GILBERT _and clapped him on the shoulder as a sign of approval_. +GILBERT _stands in dejection_. GRAEFFLINGEN _and_ LOBEN _pass out +together_.] + +MUIRHEAD. In taking leave, M. D’Or, I still feel that Mr. Gilbert owes +you an explanation for his very remarkable conduct. I am sorry the +incident happened. + +D’OR. [_After a pause._] Perhaps you are right, Sir Mortimer. Won’t you +permit Mr. Gilbert to remain for a few moments when you go? We can talk +the matter over between ourselves. + +MUIRHEAD. Mr. Gilbert, you hear what M. D’Or has said. You may rejoin me +later at the hotel. Good day. [_They shake hands and_ MUIRHEAD _goes +off_.] + +D’OR. [_Very pleasantly._] Mr. Gilbert, Sir Mortimer has made it easy +for me to have a confidential chat with you. I am indebted to him for +it. I had no idea when I entered this room that I should meet such an +interesting personality as yourself. + +GILBERT. Sir Mortimer is right. I owe you an apology and I make it +freely. I should have known my place. + +D’OR. That is not the point. I want to know why you made that outcry? + +GILBERT. I would rather not answer that question. + +D’OR. I feel as if I have a right to insist upon an answer, Mr. Gilbert. + +GILBERT. Perhaps you have. May I give the explanation in my own way? + +D’OR. By all means! Let us sit down. [_They take seats, centre._] Do you +smoke? [_He offers a cigar._] + +GILBERT. No, thank you. [D’OR _lights his own cigar_.] M. D’Or, I sought +the appointment as Sir Mortimer’s secretary because I believed it would +prove an opening to a diplomatic career. + +D’OR. Quite right—a very good opening! + +GILBERT. At that time I regarded diplomacy as my life-work. I dreamed of +participating in the great affairs of state, of helping in my own small +way to mould the history of our own day and generation. The diplomat +seemed to be so important a figure, so essentially a servant of the +state that I was dazzled at the thought of serving my country in that +way. And now—[_He pauses._] + +D’OR. Now you think otherwise? + +GILBERT. Until to-day I regarded Sir Mortimer Muirhead as one of the +most enviable of men. Now I pity him—from the bottom of my heart. Kindly +stop me if I offend— + +D’OR. Go on. I want to hear all you have to say. + +GILBERT. I learned this afternoon how hopelessly a man may be fettered +in his efforts to serve his fellow men. To an experienced man like +yourself it must be apparent how unfit I am for the profession I have +chosen. + +D’OR. Why were you so distressed to-day? + +GILBERT. Picture a group of distinguished diplomats, representing the +leading nations of Europe, gathered in secret conclave to hear the +commands of a coterie of money-barons, and, what is worse, yielding to +those commands in spite of their own convictions! It is enough to make +one’s blood boil! + +D’OR. You forget, Mr. Gilbert, that they are practical men of affairs. +They know the power of the money-barons, as you choose to call them, and +they act accordingly. A modern nation cannot afford to entrust its +affairs to idealists and dreamers. + +GILBERT. Apparently not; but what of the national honor? Do these secret +compromises never become public? What can the reputable people of a +great nation think when its rulers stoop to curry favor with the rich +and powerful? + +D’OR. My young friend, you have a distorted image in your mind; I advise +you to set it right. Who are your reputable people who are to cavil at +those who seek wealth or the influence that wealth affords? How many of +your apparently reputable people are not themselves engaged in the +pursuit of wealth by every method, direct or devious, that lies within +their power? Look about you, Mr. Gilbert, and examine your fellow man a +little more closely. Don’t place him on a pedestal. He’s a corrupt +specimen of creation when you get to know him thoroughly. + +GILBERT. [_Hotly._] What makes him corrupt but the fact that there are +forces of evil abroad to tempt him— + +D’OR. [_Smiling._] Like myself, for example? + +GILBERT. Some men are not strong enough to resist temptation. You know +that, M. D’Or. The shame of it is that men like you take advantage of +it. + +D’OR. Nonsense, Mr. Gilbert. We corrupt none of them. If need be we +ascertain the price of their corruption, but there our responsibility +ends. The work of the world must be accomplished. We cannot have men +pulling in all directions at once. There must be some harmony of action +to achieve results. If any one impedes the progress of a great plan, it +is policy to buy him off; if he refuses to yield he must be swept out of +the way. Usually he is too wise to resist—he takes his price and +withdraws gracefully. The world is waiting to be bought. + +GILBERT. There is one thing I cannot understand, M. D’Or—why do you tell +me these things? + +D’OR. Because I take an interest in you. I should like to see you make +something of your career. A few moments ago there were four prominent +diplomats in this room who did me the honor to confer upon the important +question that you heard discussed, yet for this quartette of notables I +have infinitely less respect than I have for you. I took real pleasure +in your outburst of disapproval. + +GILBERT. But they all opposed you, particularly Count Andriev. + +D’OR. Yes, but they all yielded at last—that is the fact that makes them +contemptible in my eyes. Mr. Gilbert, may I ask what salary Sir Mortimer +pays you for acting as his secretary? + +GILBERT. Five hundred pounds. + +D’OR. If I were to offer you a thousand pounds to become my secretary, +would you accept? + +GILBERT. No! + +D’OR. If I were to make it five thousand pounds, would you listen to the +offer? + +GILBERT. No, M. D’Or! + +D’OR. If I were to discover that the Blausteins needed an eminently +trustworthy agent and that you fulfilled the requirements exactly, would +you consider a salary of ten thousand pounds? + +GILBERT. Never! + +D’OR. [_Puffing his cigar, coolly._] I knew it! That’s why you interest +me—you are a human curiosity. A few, years ago I was ready to declare +there were no such men in existence. Remember, I have not insulted you +by really making the offer that I put just now. I pride myself that I +read your character aright and knew the offer would be rejected. + +GILBERT. Are such offers ever made seriously? + +D’OR. Certainly, if the man is worth it. Such matters are always subject +to the dictates of reason. + +GILBERT. I now realize the source of your overwhelming power. I have +learned something from this interview—I shall not give up diplomacy. + +D’OR. Will you remain Sir Mortimer’s secretary? + +GILBERT. Yes, for the present. If I am one of the few of whom you speak +so highly, my country needs me and I intend to remain in her service. + +D’OR. [_Smiling._] There speaks the patriot! Be careful, my friend, to +avoid tight places, so that you may not have to yield to the tempter one +of these days. [_They rise._] May I wish you success in your career? +[_He extends his hand._] + +GILBERT. [_Painfully._] M. D’Or, I don’t want to insult you +again—but—I’d rather not shake your hand. + +D’OR. [_With assumed indifference._] Just as you wish—it is better that +we should understand each other exactly. Perhaps I should feel offended, +but I don’t—I’m not going to quarrel with you. I wish you success just +the same. You may be right, after all—you young fellows have a great +deal of enthusiasm. There ought to be more like you. + +GILBERT. [_Eagerly._] M. D’Or, there’s a real strain of good in you—why +don’t you give it a chance? + +D’OR. [_Uneasily._] I may change my mind some day. If I do, I shall +remember you, Mr. Gilbert— + +GILBERT. [_Seizes_ D’OR’S _hand and looks squarely in his eyes_.] I hope +so, M. D’Or—I hope so! Good-bye! [_He goes out._] + +D’OR. [_Places his cigar on the table and looks toward the central +door._] I’d give my fortune for that man’s outlook on life! [CLAIRE +_enters silently at the right, holding her notes in her hand. She looks +curiously at_ D’OR.] + +CLAIRE. Well—there are some honorable people, after all! + +D’OR. [_Turning quickly._] What! I must confess I had quite forgotten +that you were in the next room. You heard everything? + +CLAIRE. [_Drily._] Yes—and profited by it, too! + +D’OR. You have a verbatim report? + +CLAIRE. Everything; even your interesting little chat with Mr. Gilbert. + +D’OR. See here, mademoiselle—that has no place in the report. Kindly let +me have those sheets. + +CLAIRE. Never fear, M. D’Or—the Blausteins will never see any part of +this report! + +D’OR. What do you mean? + +CLAIRE. I intend to destroy every line that I wrote in that room. I +heard what Mr. Gilbert said. I will no longer be the servile spy of the +Blausteins! + +D’OR. [_With a sneer._] Ah! Virtue seems to be contagious. + +CLAIRE. There are always immunes. + +D’OR. Your tongue has not lost its cunning, in spite of your moral +awakening. So you won’t let me have the notes? + +CLAIRE. Not unless you take them by force. [_With determination._] I +warn you, I shall not give them up tamely. + +D’OR. Calm yourself. You forget the Blaustein maxim, ‘Above all things, +no public scandal.’ I shall not make the least effort to obtain those +notes without your consent. + +CLAIRE. Thank you. May I go? + +D’OR. [_Earnestly._] Mlle. Lasalle, I will give you five thousand francs +for those notes. + +CLAIRE. [_Frightened._] Please let me pass! + +D’OR. Ten thousand francs—for the notes. + +CLAIRE. How dare you! [_A pause._] Remember Mr. Gilbert! + +D’OR. [_With a start, then quietly._] Mademoiselle, will you give me +those notes at your own price if I promise to destroy them—now, here, +before your eyes? + +CLAIRE. [_After a pause._] I shall give them to you on one condition. + +D’OR. Name it. + +CLAIRE. [_Slowly._] That you don’t ask me to touch any more Blaustein +money. I’m trying to do a decent thing this time. + +D’OR. [_With admiration._] I understand. You have my promise. [CLAIRE +_fixes her gaze on_ D’OR, _and hands over the sheets. He keeps his eyes +on her as he tears the notes into tiny scraps which fall on the table. +He gathers up the scraps and throws them into the fire._] + +CLAIRE. [_Earnestly._] We two are not entirely hopeless. + +D’OR. [_Still gazing at her._] Not after this! + +CLAIRE. We are not likely to meet again. I am going to some remote +corner of the earth—to try to forget the past. The Blausteins shall +never hear of me again. Let us make one good resolution before we part. + +D’OR. What shall it be? + +CLAIRE. Let us both try to remember Mr. Gilbert! + +D’OR. I shall never forget Mr. Gilbert—[_Extending his hand._] nor Mlle. +Claire Lasalle, stenographer! + +CLAIRE. [_Taking his hand._] Good-bye, M. D’Or! [_She hurries out at the +centre._ D’OR _looks after her for a moment, then snatches the gold band +from across his bosom and dashes it on the table with a gesture of +disgust. He drops into a chair as the curtain falls._] + + + + + SCENE IV + + +[_A sombre, darkly furnished room in a Balkan palace. There are wooden +panels and heavy gold hangings; also a window, left, a door, right, and +large double doors, centre. At the left there is a table on which is a +lamp with a dull gold shade. Nearby are an armchair, a footrest and a +smaller chair. At the right there is a small table with two chairs. +Against the walls are several quaint high-backed chairs and a curious +medieval stove. As the curtain rises_, D’OR _is in the armchair asleep. +He wears a dark dressing gown with deep gold borders and embroidery. He +still has his gold rings. The window at the left is open and from the +outside come the plaintive notes of a shepherd’s pipe. The light is that +of early evening._ EDITH PACKARD, _dressed as a nurse, enters at the +right. She feels_ D’OR’S _pulse and tiptoes noiselessly about. She +places fresh golden flowers in a vase on the smaller table, then lights +the lamp at the larger table and turns the flame low. After tidying the +room a bit, she takes another look at_ D’OR, _feels his forehead lightly +and goes off, right. The shepherd’s pipe is silenced. There is a sudden +flash of lightning at the open window and the distant rumble of +thunder._] + +D’OR. [_In his sleep._] Not Death! Not Death! I’ve bought off Death for +a time! Not yet! [_He awakes with a start._] Miss Packard! I’ve been +dreaming horribly again! [_He looks about anxiously._] Miss Packard! Has +Dr. Mirsky arrived? [_Listens for reply._] They take my money, yet +they’re not here when I need them most. [_He experiences a convulsive +spasm and is unable to articulate_ MISS PACKARD’S _name, though he makes +a painful effort to do so. He rises heavily from his chair and staggers +to the bell rope near the door, right. He manages to pull it and falls +in a faint over the chair standing near. Lightning and distant thunder._ +EDITH _rushes in and rubs his wrists. He revives and she succeeds in +getting him to the table, right._] + +D’OR. [_Bewildered._] Where am I? Yes—I remember—I called— + +EDITH. You were sleeping peacefully when I left the room a moment ago! + +D’OR. Not peacefully! I never sleep peacefully. + +EDITH. Do you feel any better? + +D’OR. Worse—much worse! How long did I sleep? + +EDITH. Over three hours. It is past six o’clock. + +D’OR. Evening already! Another day gone! [_Lightning._ EDITH _starts to +close the window. It thunders as she looks out._] + +EDITH. Oh! M. D’Or, a terrible storm is approaching! The whole valley is +filled with black clouds! [_Lightning._] + +D’OR. Close that window quickly! I cannot bear lightning. [_She closes +it amid thunder._] Another storm! I shall lie awake all night! +[_Groans._] Hasn’t Dr. Mirsky arrived? + +EDITH. No, he has not come. Perhaps the storm will prevent his getting +here to-night. + +D’OR. I _must_ see the doctor—he must come to-night! He takes my money; +he should be at my beck and call. I need him now—I may die before +morning. Is there no one at the palace whom you can send to the village? +[_Heavy thunder._] + +EDITH. Cyril is downstairs. + +D’OR. The gardener’s son? I’ll not send the boy on such a night as this. +Perhaps Mirsky will get here after all. + +EDITH. He should come. + +D’OR. I pay him well enough, eh? I pay you well, Miss Packard? I pay +everybody well. I may be feeble, but I still have my gold. It serves me +yet! [_Thunder._] + +EDITH. Do you care for something to eat? + +D’OR. No, I have no appetite. I am an unhappy creature. Turn up the +lamp, Miss Packard—it is too gloomy. I can scarcely see. [_She turns up +the lamp._ D’OR _notices the flowers_.] Why are those wilted flowers on +the table? + +EDITH. They do seem wilted—yet they were quite fresh when I brought them +in a few minutes ago. [_Thunder._] Perhaps the storm— + +D’OR. Nonsense! A storm cannot affect cut flowers! They must have been +dying when you brought them in. [_Raises their drooping heads._] Dying! +Dying—their golden beauty waning—a few hours more and all will be over! +[_Groans._] I must see Mirsky! I feel wretched to-night. Look down the +road, Miss Packard, and see if there are any signs of the doctor’s +carriage. He would not come on foot to-night. [EDITH _opens the window. +Lightning and a wild blast of wind._ D’OR _covers his eyes and groans_.] + +EDITH. [_Peering out._] It is too dark to see far—but the road seems +quite deserted. [_Thunder._] + +D’OR. Quick! Close the window! [EDITH _does so_.] Even Mirsky fails me +when I need him most. He shall hear from me to-morrow—[_A pause._] if I +am still alive. Have you had your dinner? + +EDITH. No, but there’s no hurry—I do not wish to leave you alone. + +D’OR. Get your dinner by all means. You are young and healthy—you can +enjoy it. Send up Cyril to keep me company; I like the boy. + +EDITH. Very well. Is there nothing else I can do for you? + +D’OR. [_More softly._] Nothing, Miss Packard. You are very kind to me. +Are you satisfied in this Balkan wilderness? Am I paying you enough for +coming to this desolate region? + +EDITH. Don’t say such things. I am a nurse—it is my duty to serve you. +Besides, you have been very generous to me. + +D’OR. Thank you. Run along now—and don’t forget to send up Cyril. [_She +goes off, centre._ D’OR _looks nervously about him, holds his hand over +his heart, then draws himself slowly up and goes to the window to peer +out. Seeing nothing he opens it. A furious downpour of rain is heard, +then a flash of lightning half-blinds him. He closes the window with a +loud bang._] No hope of Mirsky to-night. Even my money won’t bring him +out on such a night as this. [_He walks slowly to the armchair._] If he +does not come, I shall be dead before sunrise! + +CYRIL. [_Putting in his head, centre._] May I come in, M. D’Or? + +D’OR. [_Brightening._] Cyril! By all means! Come in, my boy! [_He +resumes his seat._] + +CYRIL. Miss Packard said you wouldn’t be angry. + +D’OR. I am very glad to see you. What have you been doing all day? + +CYRIL. I have been exploring along the other side of the river. I left +the palace this morning at five o’clock and joined some boys in the +village. We tramped for several miles along the river, then crossed the +bridge at Arak and went into the woods. + +D’OR. It must have been delightful. You started at five o’clock? + +CYRIL. Yes, it was still dark. I saw the sun rise from the Hadderberg. +By dinner time we were over ten miles beyond Arak. + +D’OR. How did you get home so quickly? + +CYRIL. Oh! we saw the storm coming—at first it was a little speck of +black cloud floating far off in the sky beyond the mountain range. We +hurried through the woods and reached home a half-hour ago. + +D’OR. You must have had a glorious tramp. Did you do any hunting? + +CYRIL. Oh no! The season has not opened yet—we shall go hunting later +on. M. D’Or, did you ever take such trips when you were a boy? +[_Rumbling thunder._] + +D’OR. No, I never had such sport. I didn’t live near the mountains and +the forests. + +CYRIL. [_Sits on the foot rest at_ D’OR’S _feet_.] How do the boys in +your country spend their time? + +D’OR. The most sensible spend their time in learning how to make money. + +CYRIL. Do they need much money when they grow up? + +D’OR. Nearly all of them think they need more than they have. + +CYRIL. What do they buy with their money? + +D’OR. Whatever they think they want. What would you buy if you had +twenty florins? + +CYRIL. A pair of hunting boots and a new knife. [_He pulls out his +knife._] Not a cheap knife, like this one—but one with six silver bands +on the handle. + +D’OR. Why six bands? + +CYRIL. Because my friend Boris has one with five bands and his knife is +the finest in the village. + +D’OR. Ah! I see! And what would you buy if you had fifty florins? + +CYRIL. Fifty florins! [_After a pause._] I wouldn’t buy anything. I’d +save until I had a hundred. + +D’OR. [_Interested._] And then— + +CYRIL. Then I would buy a handsome rifle such as I saw in a shop window +in Buda-Pesth. Were you ever in Buda-Pesth? + +D’OR. Yes, Cyril. I’ve seen those fine shops. Now, isn’t it pleasant to +think that you can go into such a shop with a pocket full of money and +pick out anything you want? + +CYRIL. Yes—it’s like a fairy-tale. + +D’OR. [_Drily._] Well, that’s why the boys in my country learn how to +make money! + +CYRIL. [_With enthusiasm._] And when they have it, they go to the shops +and buy what they wanted? + +D’OR. No; by that time they have usually lost interest in what they +wanted—and then they desire something which they cannot buy. + +CYRIL. Then it isn’t much fun after all? + +D’OR. [_Stroking_ CYRIL’S _hair_.] No, it isn’t much fun. You have +something better than money, Cyril. You have youth and health—be careful +how you spend them. You wouldn’t sell them at any price, would you? + +CYRIL. How can one sell youth, M. D’Or? + +D’OR. By doing foolish things and by wasting the precious hours of early +manhood—that is how one sells youth. I want you to realize how very rich +you are, even if you haven’t enough money to buy that new rifle. [_The +noise of carriage wheels is heard._] Do you hear a carriage? Can it be +Dr. Mirsky, after all? + +CYRIL. [_Opens the window._] Yes, it is the doctor—and another man with +him in a long white robe—a strange-looking man! + +D’OR. You see very well in the dark, Cyril! + +CYRIL. I have good eyes; father calls them forester’s eyes. + +D’OR. Is it still raining? + +CYRIL. [_Puts out his hand._] A little, but the worst is over. The +clouds are breaking. + +D’OR. I am glad of it; you may leave the window open. [_Enter_ MIRSKY +_at centre_.] + +MIRSKY. Good evening, M. D’Or! I’m a bit late to-night on account of +this cursed storm—I never experienced such weather before. The road to +the palace is a veritable river! At every turn a fresh torrent bursts +over it. How do you feel? + +D’OR. Fairly well since Cyril has been keeping me company, but I felt +miserable before—I feared you would not come. + +MIRSKY. Not come for such a patron as M. D’Or! My dear sir, I would have +come if it had been necessary to swim to the palace! + +CYRIL. [_Laughing._] People don’t swim up hills, Dr. Mirsky. + +MIRSKY. No, and well-behaved boys don’t make impertinent remarks to +their elders. + +D’OR. Cyril tells me you had a companion in your carriage. + +MIRSKY. Yes—the queerest fellow I’ve ever come across. I picked him up +on the road just beyond the village. He had sought shelter under a tree +but I saw he would be drenched if he remained there long enough—to say +nothing of the danger from lightning. He’s a sort of oriental sage—calls +himself Ramanand. I expect to take him back to the village when I leave +and have a chat with him to-night. + +D’OR. I am interested in your find! Can’t we have him up here? + +MIRSKY. I turned him over to Miss Packard—I believe he is drying out at +the kitchen fire. Cyril, run along and fetch up the philosopher. + +CYRIL. [_Meekly._] Very well, doctor. I hope you will forgive me for my +impertinence just now— + +MIRSKY. [_Clapping his shoulder._] Impertinence, my boy? It was the +truth. As you say, people do _not_ swim up hill. [CYRIL _laughs and runs +off, centre_. MIRSKY _turns to_ D’OR.] Well, how is my patient? [_Feels +his pulse._] Still feverish and unsettled—appetite poor—all out of +sorts, eh? + +D’OR. Doctor, I feel like a man whose life is ebbing away. I had a +horrible seizure this evening. It’s all up with me. I’ve been burning +the candle at both ends all my life. I have crowded more experience into +my forty years than properly belongs there—that’s all! + +MIRSKY. My dear M. D’Or, you talk like a man who is preparing for +another world, yet you are paying me handsomely to keep you here. One +can hardly regard such remarks as complimentary— + +D’OR. True enough, doctor, but there’s no power of resistance left in +me. I’ve been fighting Death for some time and now I have only one real +weapon left— + +MIRSKY. [_Surprised._] One weapon? + +D’OR. Yes, my money! Youth and health are gone, and I have long since +turned my back upon my few friends—but my money is still my faithful +slave. It has provided me this airy retreat in the Balkans, it has +brought me such a devoted nurse as Miss Packard, such a skilful +physician as yourself— + +MIRSKY. Come, come—I’m not so sordid! A true physician thinks first of +the professional obligation. + +D’OR. But a successful doctor does not give up a lucrative practice in +Buda-Pesth to bury himself in the mountains with a solitary patient +unless the latter pays handsomely, eh? + +MIRSKY. It is true that you are giving me many times what I could earn +by my practice, but why do you constantly remind me of it? + +D’OR. I don’t want to offend you, doctor—but I like to feel that my +money is still helping me to keep Death at bay. I have gone through life +believing that wealth is power and I want to think so yet. Don’t you +share that belief? + +MIRSKY. Frankly, I do. I have even coined a new beatitude—blessed is the +rich man, since he can have what he wants! + +D’OR. [_Gravely._] Not always—I have found that out. I want health, +vigor, an interest in life. + +MIRSKY. Your money would obtain any of these if you gave it a fair +chance. You are sated, that is all— + +D’OR. It is worse than that. I’m worn out—done for! + +MIRSKY. M. D’Or, you are absolutely wrong. I cannot comprehend your +passive yielding to this chronic invalidism. You harm not only yourself, +but me likewise—professionally, I mean. I shall be quite frank with you. +My reputation is at stake. All Buda-Pesth knows that I am treating the +rich M. D’Or. If I restore you to health, my fortune is assured! I shall +no longer be the promising Dr. Mirsky in his shabby carriage—I shall +become the famous Dr. Mirsky in his automobile. Do you realize what it +means to me? + +D’OR. So you wish me to get well for _your_ sake? + +MIRSKY. Certainly, if you have no reasons of your own. I pretend to no +philanthropy in the matter. You are paying me lavishly, M. D’Or—give me +a chance to earn the money. + +D’OR. [_Shaking his head._] You’ve taken a bad case, doctor—I’m sorry +for you. You’ll have your money and the automobile in any event. Of +course, you expect to find greater happiness in becoming more prominent +in your profession? + +MIRSKY. Yes, both happiness and reputation. I look upon it as a +recompense for my early years of struggle. + +D’OR. You had to make your own way? + +MIRSKY. My father was a poor village shoemaker; my mother eked out his +income by what she could earn at washing and sewing. I was the youngest +of five children. + +D’OR. And the others? + +MIRSKY. They were all sacrificed for my sake. They are hard-working men +and women to-day. My parents died before I achieved independence in my +profession. I should like to help my brothers and sisters, but they +refuse my aid. + +D’OR. Perhaps you don’t offer them enough. + +MIRSKY. M. D’Or, they have pride! They feel that an unfair advantage was +given to me—and they are right! + +D’OR. I fail to see it. This was clearly a case of one rising from the +depths, or none at all. If they have pride, they should take pride in +you. + +MIRSKY. It has made a permanent breach between us, I fear. + +D’OR. And they will feel even more bitter when you return to Buda-Pesth +and ride about in your new automobile? + +MIRSKY. [_Gloomily._] Yes, I have been thinking of that. If I could only +drive them from my mind! + +D’OR. Yet you look forward to happiness! Is there no way of making +wealth obedient to our desires? + +CYRIL. [_Putting in his head at central door as before._] May I bring in +Mr. Ramanand? + +D’OR. Certainly—I shall be glad to see him. [CYRIL _throws the door open +and_ RAMANAND _enters in stately fashion, garbed in an oriental robe_.] + +MIRSKY. Ah! Ramanand, quite dry now? I want to present you to M. D’Or, +the tenant of this palace and my worthy patron. He has heard of our +meeting on the road. + +RAMANAND. [_With a profound bow, speaks in a deep, rich voice._] My +salutations and greetings, monsieur. I am indebted to you for your +hospitality. + +D’OR. Won’t you be seated? [RAMANAND _takes a seat, right_, CYRIL _sits +on the foot rest_.] I trust they made you comfortable downstairs. Didn’t +you suffer in the storm? + +RAMANAND. A slight wetting—no more. I am accustomed to rough weather. I +travel constantly on foot. It is no hardship for such as I. + +MIRSKY. Are you familiar with this country? + +RAMANAND. No. I am on my way to the West, to study the civilization of +other lands. I have read of them and their manners; I now seek to know +them by actual experience. + +D’OR. You have doubtless traveled far enough to find things different? + +RAMANAND. Yes, I already feel the mark of the West in your customs. In +the East, all things are deliberate and, whether right or wrong, rest +upon traditions handed down from the remotest ages. Here you strive for +things that are new and you are ever ready to forget the old. + +D’OR. But why do you follow such a roving life? Is there any profit in +it? Will you be better off when you have completed your travels? + +RAMANAND. There is much profit in it—I shall enrich my mind with golden +thought— + +D’OR. But does it enrich your purse with golden coin—that’s more to the +point! + +RAMANAND. Money! It is a delusion! + +MIRSKY. A delusion? + +RAMANAND. [_Placidly._] Yes. Has it ever proved otherwise? + +D’OR. Why, it brings power, the thing best worth having in life. + +RAMANAND. It brings mostly care and sorrow. + +MIRSKY. Did you ever hear such a philosophy? + +D’OR. [_To_ CYRIL.] Cyril, you recall speaking to me this evening of a +new rifle? + +CYRIL. Yes, M. D’Or. + +D’OR. We shall send to Buda-Pesth to-morrow for that rifle and when it +arrives it is yours. + +CYRIL. [_Leaping up in pleasure and kissing_ D’OR’S _hand_.] Oh! dear M. +D’Or, you are like a good magician in the story-books! + +D’OR. [_To_ RAMANAND.] And the agency of such happiness as this you call +a delusion! Where’s your care and sorrow? + +RAMANAND. [_Smiling._] You are a ready man with your proof. No one can +deny the momentary exaltation that follows a gift or a favor, nor do I +believe that gratitude is a forgotten virtue. But look about you, and +note what a curse wealth has brought upon humanity. + +MIRSKY. I should not care to entertain the philosophy of the East. + +RAMANAND. Mine is not the philosophy of the East. We also have the +worship of gold among us and its devotees lead the same blind lives in +its pursuit as your own people. The views I express are my own. + +D’OR. Then you really believe that the poor man is the happiest man? + +RAMANAND. Yes, if he is not possessed by the lust for gold. + +MIRSKY. And the rich man is the unhappiest man? + +RAMANAND. Yes, if he is the slave of his own wealth. + +D’OR. Rail against wealth if you will—I maintain that poverty has +nothing to recommend it. + +RAMANAND. [_Reflectively._] I too sought material wealth as a young man +and I gained nothing but care; for many years I have cherished poverty +and my days are crowned with peace. I ask no better test of my +philosophy. + +MIRSKY. If you are satisfied, you have reached a state of mind that +neither M. D’Or nor I shall ever experience. [EDITH _enters, centre_; +MIRSKY _and_ RAMANAND _rise_.] + +EDITH. Pardon me—I have come to tell Cyril that his father is ready to +take him back to the lodge. + +CYRIL. [_Leaping up and running to the window._] Oh! it is clearing up +beautifully—the moon will rise soon. I suppose I’ll have to go. [_He +shakes hands._] Good night, Dr. Mirsky. [_He stands abashed before_ +RAMANAND.] Good night, Mr. Ramanand. + +RAMANAND. [_Stroking_ CYRIL’S _hair as if invoking a blessing on the +boy_.] Good night, Cyril. + +CYRIL. Good night, M. D’Or. Shall I pray that you should get better? + +D’OR. [_Surprised._] Should you pray—why—yes, if you care to. + +CYRIL. You won’t forget about the new rifle? + +D’OR. What has the rifle to do with your prayer? + +CYRIL. I think I could pray better if I knew I was sure to get it. +[RAMANAND _shakes his head_.] + +D’OR. Very well, Cyril, just pray your very best for me. Good night. + +CYRIL. Good night, Miss Packard. Why don’t you make M. D’Or get better? +That’s what nurses are for. + +MIRSKY. The young rascal will be censuring me next for not having M. +D’Or in perfect physical condition. Run along. + +CYRIL. [_Laughing._] Good night, everybody. [_He goes off hastily._] + +EDITH. [_To_ D’OR.] It is time for your medicine. + +MIRSKY. One moment, Miss Packard. We shall discontinue that medicine; I +am not satisfied with our patient’s response. We shall adopt a new +course—no drugs at all for the next few days. + +D’OR. I am heartily glad of it. I get far more benefit from your talk, +doctor, than from your medicines. Our little discussion to-night has +made me forget myself for the time. By the way, let us see how Miss +Packard feels about the matter. She will be an unprejudiced judge. + +MIRSKY. One whose opinion will be worth having. [RAMANAND _bows +politely_.] + +D’OR. We were trying to decide among ourselves whether wealth is a +blessing or a curse. Do you believe it brings power? + +EDITH. Yes, unquestionably. + +MIRSKY. Does it bring happiness? + +EDITH. Certainly. Why shouldn’t it bring happiness? + +RAMANAND. Does it bring sorrow and misery? + +EDITH. Far too often, I fear. + +D’OR. Are all three of us right in our contentions? Wealth seems to be +rather fickle, Miss Packard, according to your view. + +EDITH. It appears a very simple matter to me. The unattainable always +seems attractive; what we possess is apt to pall after a time. Wealth +does not usually bring power, nor happiness, nor sorrow until its +possessor has taken some initiative in the matter. The owner of the +wealth must in a large measure determine its influence on his career. + +D’OR. If you possessed great wealth, would you test its power to secure +for you the things that you might deem most desirable—social position, +for instance? + +EDITH. I think not. I should prefer to expend it in a quest of +happiness, but it would be a happiness that came from service—from using +the wealth to bring sunshine and peace into other lives. Perhaps as a +nurse I have come to think differently than many other women— + +MIRSKY. More self-sacrificing, I am sure. + +RAMANAND. Does Miss Packard believe in the philosophy of service—that +our lives can be counted most successful when we make ourselves most +useful to our fellow men? + +EDITH. Assuredly. Service seems to me the ideal of a well-ordered life. +I can imagine no finer life than that of my honored country-woman, Miss +Eleanor Richmond— + +D’OR. [_Springing up._] Eleanor Richmond! + +RAMANAND. A noble woman, indeed, a goddess of charity. I met her in +Bombay last year. + +MIRSKY. I have heard of her—she organized a relief committee for the +India famine— + +EDITH. Yes, and is devoted heart and soul to the great cause. + +D’OR. Eleanor Richmond—in India! [_To_ EDITH.] You know her? + +EDITH. Very well. I have been with her at different times for several +years. I was a member of her party that went into the fever district. + +D’OR. She—has not married? + +RAMANAND. Such a woman needs no family of her own. All mankind is her +family! + +D’OR. How strange that you should know her. I always passed over the +accounts of India famines in the papers—such unpleasant reading, such +harrowing details. + +MIRSKY. Think of the heroism of a woman who will plunge into the midst +of such misery and desolation! + +RAMANAND. There are parts of India where Miss Richmond is worshiped as a +saint! + +EDITH. She deserves it. I know of no one who has made such a splendid +use of wealth as she has done. She has been an inspiration to me at +times when I felt weak and discouraged. [_Moonlight shines in at the +window._] + +MIRSKY. The moon has risen; what a glorious light it sheds into this +room. We must be going, M. D’Or, if we are to reach the village before +midnight. We shall have a well-lighted road, at all events. [_He goes to +the window._ D’OR _is staring into space_.] + +EDITH. I shall have the carriage sent around to the door. [_She goes +off, centre._] + +RAMANAND. Monsieur, I am deeply indebted to you and to the good doctor +for the shelter you have afforded me, and for your tokens of good will. + +D’OR. [_Recovering himself._] And to-morrow you continue your westward +march—in search of truth? + +RAMANAND. In search of truth, M. D’Or. There is the most precious wealth +that the earth affords. It will be a long and difficult quest. + +D’OR. I have been searching for truth for many years and in many lands; +to-night I believe I have stumbled upon it by chance. A few hours ago I +was wondering what new bribe I might offer Death to postpone for a time +the final settling of my account. Now I yearn for a chance to redeem my +past follies, to add a new and more creditable chapter to my career. You +have done me much good to-night, doctor! I feel better and happier at +this moment than I have been for many years! + +MIRSKY. Not too fast! Don’t be in too much of a hurry to deprive me of +so profitable a patient. + +D’OR. Have no fear, doctor—you shall have no occasion to regret the cure +that you wrought here to-night. + +MIRSKY. You are indeed a changed man—I am glad to see it. Good night, M. +D’Or. + +RAMANAND. [_To_ D’OR.] Good night, monsieur. [_He bows._] + +D’OR. Good night! A pleasant ride back to the village! [_They go out, +centre._ D’OR _examines the wilted flowers and laughs softly. He then +goes over to the window and stands in the moonlight. He calls to the +others below._] Good night! Good night! [_The sound of carriage wheels +is heard._ EDITH _comes in, centre, and looks at_ D’OR _a few moments +before speaking_.] + +EDITH. You may catch cold at the window— + +D’OR. [_Turning._] Miss Packard! I did not hear you enter. + +EDITH. You are feeling much better? + +D’OR. I am a new man to-night. Pray tell me, do you know if Eleanor +Richmond is in India now? + +EDITH. She is on her way to India. She wrote me from London that she +would be at Port Said in a fortnight. + +D’OR. Port Said! You have a letter from her? + +EDITH. Yes. Do you know her? + +D’OR. We were very good friends—many years ago, over in America. It +seems so long ago—almost like another existence. + +EDITH. Would you like to see her letter? It tells of her plans for the +coming year. + +D’OR. You are very kind— + +EDITH. I shall fetch the letter; I am sure it will interest you. [_She +goes off, right._] + +D’OR. [_In meditation._] Fifteen years! It seems like a lifetime! A +lifetime of hideous nightmare and delusion. Fifteen years! [_He paces +the room._ EDITH _returns_.] + +EDITH. Here is Miss Richmond’s letter. + +D’OR. [_Takes the letter to the light and tries to read. His hand +trembles. He speaks in an uncertain voice._] Won’t you read it for me? + +EDITH. [_Reading._] ‘I am now in London with my secretary, Mr. Hanson, +making final preparations for another year’s work in the Orient. Mr. +Hanson’s wife and I have been buying great quantities of supplies to be +shipped to the East. She is a most helpful woman—just another like’—[_A +pause._] + +D’OR. [_Softly._] ‘Like yourself.’ + +EDITH. [_Embarrassed, continues._] ‘From all reports the distress is +even greater than before and we shall have to labor harder than ever to +relieve the miseries of those unfortunate people. How my heart bleeds +for them! I have found many good friends who have contributed generously +to our fund, but the need is so great that we can never bring adequate +relief. We can assist a little here and there, and instil new courage in +those who are partly able to help themselves, but there is much that we +can never hope to undertake. I wonder that I ever had the hardihood to +attempt this work. Now it has become my mission in life and it means +everything to me. We shall be at Port Said on the 25th, and shall spend +two or three days there. I wish you could arrange to rejoin me this +year. I recall our days of labor among the poor in New York and in +Chicago. You were so very’—Oh! M. D’Or, won’t you read the rest? + +D’OR. [_Taking the letter._] Too modest to sound your own praises? _[He +reads in silence._] Very true, Miss Packard, what she says of you is +indeed true. No wonder she wants you with her again. [_He reads._] ‘The +work is a consecration—it has made life very sweet to me’—[_As he goes +on_, EDITH _silently steals from the room by the centre door_.] ‘What a +pleasure it is to bring the light of joy and gratitude into the eyes of +others. In my devotion to their welfare I have tried to forget an early +sorrow of my own’— [_He pauses, overcome with emotion. He looks up and +sees that he is alone. His hand trembles as he holds the letter near the +lamp._] ‘I hope we may soon meet again—time alone can tell.’ Time alone +can tell! How that phrase brings back that last evening together in the +garden—the legend on the sun-dial—‘Time will reveal all things.’—[_He +rises and stands by the window, glancing over the letter in the +moonlight._] ‘I have tried to forget an early sorrow of my own’—_Tried_ +to forget! Eleanor! [_He gazes at the letter as the curtain slowly +falls._] + + + + + EPILOG + + +[_A parlor in the Hotel Orient, Port Said, furnished as a writing-room +for the guests. There is at the right a table with pens, ink, magazines, +railway guides and folders. At the left a table with writing materials, +blotters, etc. Each table is flanked by two chairs. There are also +several comfortable armchairs and a revolving case with time-tables and +other hotel literature. From the room a wide central entrance leads +through glass doors to a porch with posted placards. There are exits +right and left and a window on the left beside the door. The sun shines +brightly through this window and also illumines the prospect from the +porch. As the curtain rises_, MR. MATHEWS _enters at the centre and +casts a critical eye over the room. He puts the papers, etc., into order +at both tables and throws several soiled sheets into a wastebasket under +the table on the right._ MR. HANSON _enters with a large bundle of +letters and goes to the opposite table_.] + +MATHEWS. Good morning, Mr. Hanson. I hope you slept well. + +HANSON. Thank you, Mr. Mathews. My first night in Africa was one of +undisturbed repose. What a lovely morning! Is such weather common in +Egypt? + +MATHEWS. It is during the season. We often have fine weather at this +time of the year. + +HANSON. Your hotel seems quite crowded. + +MATHEWS. It filled up yesterday after the arrival of your steamer. Most +of our guests are tourists who are on their way to Cairo and the +Pyramids. + +HANSON. Have you seen Miss Richmond this morning? + +MATHEWS. Yes, she is now at breakfast. What a charming lady she is! + +HANSON. One of Heaven’s good angels, I should say. My wife and I have +been associated with her for two years in her American charities and in +this India relief work. Her soul is wrapped up in it. You should see how +people respond to her appeal for aid. [_He reads the mail as he talks.]_ +One contribution after another. Our fellow-passengers on the ship raised +a fund of one hundred pounds. + +MATHEWS. That reminds me to give you this check on behalf of the +management. [_He takes a check from his wallet._] We desire to show our +interest in the cause. + +HANSON. Thank you very much. I am certain your kindness will gratify +Miss Richmond. [_He reads a letter with an enclosure._] Here’s a curious +one! From the English missionary at Kermeh—‘ten pounds from our mission +for the India relief fund.’ Where is Kermeh? + +MATHEWS. It is far up the Nile—at the Third Cataract. That’s the sort of +coöperation that counts; it shows that Miss Richmond’s noble work is +known in the remotest regions. [_He takes out his check book and +writes._] Mr. Hanson, I wish you would add this personal contribution to +that of the management. I want to help a little. + +HANSON. You are indeed generous. I wish the world could realize the +nature of the task that Miss Richmond has undertaken—the feeding of +impoverished thousands is but a small part of it. There are schools and +hospitals to be provided—an effort is being made to raise the whole +country to a better standard of living. The fever must be stamped +out—[_Reads._] Twenty pounds—fifty pounds—Heaven bless them all. [_He +takes up a telegram._] A dispatch from Paris. [_As he reads it, the +paper trembles in his hand. He starts up with a cry._] + +MATHEWS. What is the matter? + +HANSON. [_Excitedly._] The matter! It’s too wonderful to be true. I +doubt whether I’m awake! It can’t be possible—yet here it is, black on +white. It’s like a voice from Heaven answering Miss Richmond’s prayer. +[_Hands over the telegram._] Read it, Mr. Mathews. + +MATHEWS. [_Reads._] ‘The Messrs. Blaustein have the honor to inform Miss +Richmond that securities amounting to ten million pounds’— + +HANSON. [_Wildly._] It does say ten million? I’m not dreaming? + +MATHEWS. You’re wide awake—it’s ten million. I’m not familiar with the +sum, but I know what the figures look like. [_He resumes reading._] +‘Securities amounting to ten million pounds have been deposited with +them to form a permanent fund known as the Eleanor Richmond Fund, the +income thereof to be expended in the interests of Miss Richmond’s great +charities throughout the world. Provision is made that one hundred +thousand pounds shall be immediately available for Miss Richmond’s +relief work in India. The Messrs. Blaustein regret that they are not at +liberty to mention the name of the donor, who prefers to remain +anonymous because he wishes only one name to be associated with the +fund—that of Miss Richmond herself.’ Did you ever hear anything like +that before in your life, Mr. Hanson? + +HANSON. [_Almost delirious._] Has there ever been anything like it +before? It is stupendous! How can such a gift be kept secret! How can +any human being give away ten million pounds without public recognition? +Can you realize what burdens it will lift from Miss Richmond’s mind? She +can now proceed safely with many noble enterprises which she has long +hoped to carry out when funds were available. How she will rejoice at +this wonderful answer to her prayers! + +MATHEWS. [_Gravely._] By the way, Mr. Hanson, be careful in giving her +the information. Good news may cause as severe a shock as bad news. Tell +her gradually— + +HANSON. You’re right. It’s a wonder it didn’t knock me over—I haven’t +had my breakfast yet. I don’t believe a doctor would recommend hearing +such news on an empty stomach. [_Enter_ ROBERT DORR _at the centre. He +wears a plain sack suit and no jewelry of any sort. He seems alert and +vigorous._ HANSON _continues to read the mail_.] + +DORR. Good morning, Mr. Mathews. + +MATHEWS. Good morning, Mr. Dorr. You are an early riser—the porter told +me you went out at five o’clock for a stroll about the harbor. + +DORR. I am enjoying the best of health. You must have observed the +improvement in the four days that I have been here. The climate of Egypt +is wonderful—bracing, invigorating! + +MATHEWS. [_Drily._] Yes, just now—but wait till next summer! + +DORR. I haven’t time to wait. I’ll take your word for it. + +MATHEWS. By the way, Mr. Dorr, you ought to know Mr. Hanson, secretary +to Miss Richmond. Mr. Hanson, Mr. Dorr. You are both Americans— + +DORR. The best of reasons for our knowing each other, Mr. Hanson. I have +heard of Miss Richmond’s splendid services for India. You have doubtless +taken part in that work? + +HANSON. Yes. Mrs. Hanson and I have been associated with Miss Richmond +for several years. It has been a pleasure to help even a little in the +great cause, but I’ve never been so happy as this morning. What do you +think has happened? + +DORR. I’m sure I never could guess. + +HANSON. A noble hearted soul has established a fund of ten million +pounds to carry on Miss Richmond’s work. + +DORR. Ten millions! Who is your Crœsus? + +HANSON. That’s the most remarkable part of it. He is as modest as he is +magnanimous—he prefers to remain unknown. + +DORR. What does Miss Richmond say? + +MATHEWS. She doesn’t know it yet. The dispatch arrived from Paris this +morning. + +HANSON. It will be the happiest day of her life, I am sure. + +DORR. How long do you remain at Port Said? + +HANSON. Our steamer leaves day after to-morrow at ten. That reminds me, +I must send off a note at once to the steamship office. You will pardon +me? [_He goes to the table, left, and writes._] + +MATHEWS. [_Beside the table._] Just look at that mail, Mr. +Dorr—contributions coming in from all quarters. There are many hundred +pounds in all, and yet how small that seems beside those ten millions! +How would you like to be able to give such a donation? + +DORR. [_Uncomfortably._] I—I think it would be very pleasant—I think I’d +rather like it! + +MATHEWS. I should say so! A man with such generous impulses should not +hide his light— + +DORR. [_Interrupting._] Pardon me, Mr. Mathews, have you a Bradshaw +handy? + +MATHEWS. [_Indicating to the table, right._] You will find one on that +table. [_He crosses._] Here it is. [DORR _follows and takes a seat with +his back to the others_. MATHEWS _turns to the back as if to go out and +meets_ ELEANOR RICHMOND. _He comes front with her._ DORR _pretends to be +reading his Bradshaw_.] + +ELEANOR. Good morning, Mr. Mathews. It’s a full year since I was here. +How have you been? + +MATHEWS. Very well. I need not ask— + +ELEANOR. [_Smiling._] Always well and busy. Perhaps I should say always +well because I’m busy. What a lovely sunny morning. You seem to furnish +such beautiful weather whenever I come to your hotel. + +MATHEWS. I hope you will enjoy your stay here, Miss Richmond. + +ELEANOR. I always do. I’m sorry it must be such a short stay, but you +know—India is calling and I’m needed there. [_To_ HANSON.] Good morning, +Hanson—have you breakfasted? + +HANSON. Not yet, Miss Richmond—I’ve been looking over the mail. The fact +is, I’m not at all hungry— + +ELEANOR. You’re not getting ill, I hope? You seem strangely excited +about something. Is the fever prevalent now, Mr. Mathews? + +MATHEWS. No, indeed. I don’t think anything serious is the matter with +Mr. Hanson. He is simply suffering from a slight shock. + +ELEANOR. A shock! Why, what has happened? + +HANSON. You see I was reading the mail—it’s a goodly batch of letters. +Nearly all of them contain donations, both large and small—I was simply +overcome by their generosity. Here is one from the English mission at +Kermeh in the upper Nile valley. Mr. Mathews has given me a check on +behalf of the management of the hotel and a personal contribution as +well. + +ELEANOR. [_Gratefully._] Thank you for your aid. It is an inspiration to +find people everywhere so anxious to help! [_She has taken a seat at the +table, left, her back to_ DORR. HANSON _is seated at her side and_ +MATHEWS _is standing_.] + +HANSON. [_Slowly and seriously._] Miss Richmond, you know that now and +then there is an unusually large donation announced in the mail. [_She +nods expectantly as she looks over the letters._] That happened this +morning. [_A pause._] It is the most splendid gift that your cause has +ever received. [_She drops the letters and looks eagerly at_ HANSON.] +This is a trust fund, the interest of which is to be applied to your +work. Do not be startled at the sum—it is very great. You remember last +year the Earl of Shropshire gave— + +ELEANOR. Ten thousand pounds—a munificent sum! And you say this is even +more? + +HANSON. [_Deliberately._] Conceive the Earl of Shropshire’s gift +multiplied ten fold—a hundred fold—a thousand fold! + +ELEANOR. [_Rising from her seat._] Hanson, what do you mean? + +HANSON. [_Rising._] Miss Richmond, the amount is ten million pounds. [_A +pause. She looks from_ HANSON _to_ MATHEWS. HANSON _gives her the +dispatch. Tense silence as_ ELEANOR _reads it_. DORR _trembles, but does +not look around. The paper shakes in_ ELEANOR’S _hand_.] + +ELEANOR. [_Faintly._] Ten million pounds—a permanent fund—one hundred +thousand pounds immediately available! [_She sinks into her chair._] Can +this be true? It is like the realization of a fairy-dream. Hanson, I +_must_ know the donor of this enormous fund— + +HANSON. The dispatch says he prefers to remain anonymous. + +ELEANOR. I must know. His name may be kept secret if he so desires, but +I must see that man and thank him from the bottom of my heart for the +good that he is doing. His bounty will reap a perpetual harvest—he must +see for himself what his unparalleled generosity will accomplish. + +HANSON. Shall I write to the Blausteins at Paris, asking that the +donor’s name be communicated to you? + +ELEANOR. No—I shall let you have a telegram for them. I want to know +before I leave Port Said. What a wonderful day this is! You knew of it, +Mr. Mathews? + +MATHEWS. Mr. Hanson told me just before you came in. Let me say in all +sincerity, it is the kind of support that your noble work has merited +all along. + +ELEANOR. It makes me happy past all understanding. We can achieve real +results now—not temporary relief, but permanent progress. Won’t you get +your breakfast, Hanson? I am forgetting all about you. No wonder you +seemed so excited. I shall telegraph to the Blausteins at once. [_She +reaches for a telegram pad and writes._] + +HANSON. Very well. [_He gathers up the mail, leaving the dispatch from +the Blausteins in_ ELEANOR’S _possession_.] Mr. Mathews, won’t you +deposit these remittances in your safe for the present? [DORR _at his +table writes out a check_.] + +MATHEWS. Certainly. Can I be of further service, Miss Richmond? + +ELEANOR. Not now, but I shall call upon you later. Let me thank you once +more for your kindness! I must get off this dispatch at once. + +MATHEWS. Let me know when I can serve you in any way. [_He goes off, +centre, with_ HANSON. ELEANOR, _when alone at the table, reads the +dispatch again, clasps it to her breast and looks upward in +thankfulness. Trying to compose her own telegram, she once more reads +the other and weeps softly as she does._ DORR _rises and turns towards +her. She is trying to compose herself to write, but cannot._] + +DORR. [_Advancing._] Pardon me, Miss Richmond—I should like to +contribute a trifle to your fund. [_He hands her the check._] + +ELEANOR. How good of—[_Looks intently at him._] why—I—[_In a whisper._] +Bobbie Dorr! + +DORR. Yes. + +ELEANOR. Bobbie Dorr—in Egypt! Oh! what a surprise! Were you sitting +over there reading that Bradshaw? I took you for an ill-mannered +tourist! + +DORR. And you recognized me at once—after fifteen years. + +ELEANOR. Is it as long as that? Then you must not mention the fact +again. You’ve grown broader and heavier, Bobbie—you look more sensible, +too! + +DORR. And you’re just the same charming Eleanor that you were in the old +Lenox days. + +ELEANOR. The idea of your saying such a thing! I just remarked that you +seemed more sensible—now I am inclined to doubt it. What have you been +doing all these years? + +DORR. Wandering over the face of Europe and learning many things. I fear +you have never forgiven me for the unceremonious way I cleared out after +that dance of Aunt Martha’s. I sailed from New York a few hours after +that—that last evening we spent together. + +ELEANOR. I have never forgotten that evening, Bobbie. You seemed like a +man possessed of some evil spirit. You remember how you raved about the +power of wealth— + +DORR. I meant it then. My money is practically all gone now. + +ELEANOR. You have run through that great fortune of your grandfather’s? +You have spent it all? + +DORR. All but a very little—I couldn’t give you much of a contribution— + +ELEANOR. [_Looking at the check._] How thoughtless of me! Here I have +been holding your check all this time without even glancing at it. One +thousand pounds! Generous as ever, Bobbie! + +DORR. I’m sorry it isn’t more— + +ELEANOR. [_Examining the signature._] What’s this? What a strange way of +spelling your name! + +DORR. I’ve been known as M. D’Or ever since I left America—it was simply +a fancy of mine. Now that I’m through with my money, I shall be plain +Bobbie Dorr hereafter. + +ELEANOR. It certainly sounds better, Bobbie—more like old times. Do you +know, I always felt that we should meet again and that you would tell me +truly whether or not wealth can buy power— + +DORR. It cannot, Eleanor, I admit that. I spent my money foolishly for +the most part—that is, until recently, when I acquired more common +sense—but I’m glad I’m done with it. Now I’m going to ask you a favor. + +ELEANOR. What is it, Bobbie? + +DORR. Won’t you take me along to India? + +ELEANOR. Take you along to India! Why, this is no pleasure excursion. It +means work—the hardest kind of work. + +DORR. [_Dejectedly._] I know I don’t amount to much, but I thought I +might serve as a second or third assistant secretary. [_Brightening._] I +was watching your secretary this morning. When the mail comes in I might +open the envelopes and hand them over to Mr. Hanson. + +ELEANOR. And what then? + +DORR. Well, I suppose I’d have to look out of the window until the next +mail arrived. But, Eleanor, I’m serious about this—I’m no longer the +frivolous youngster I was at Lenox. + +ELEANOR. We’ve both seen a good bit of life since then, Bobbie. I became +interested in charitable work, and my labors at home and in India have +been crowned with great success. Did you hear us speak before of the +wonderful good fortune that has just befallen us—the income of ten +million pounds to be annually devoted to our cause? Isn’t it marvelous! +I was just about to write in order to learn the name of the donor. + +DORR. I shouldn’t ask the Blausteins about him—they won’t tell you +anyway. + +ELEANOR. How did you know it was the Blausteins? I didn’t mention their +name. + +DORR. Why, I—that is, Mr. Hanson happened to mention it to Mr. Mathews +before you came in. + +ELEANOR. And knowing that, you were willing to sit there in that +cold-blooded manner reading your Bradshaw? + +DORR. I didn’t want to take you by surprise. I wanted to give you a +chance to hear what Mr. Hanson had to say before I forced my unworthy +self on your attention. + +ELEANOR. What Mr. Hanson had to say? It seems to me that you show very +little enthusiasm over this wonderful endowment. I must discover the +donor; won’t you help me? + +DORR. I don’t see why you bother about him. He’s probably some eccentric +old fellow—he must be a queer chap to turn over such a sum to a Board of +Trustees— + +ELEANOR. Board of Trustees—[_Reading the dispatch._] The dispatch says +nothing about a Board of Trustees! + +DORR. Doesn’t it? Well, you see, they usually do such things in that +way. I inferred from what Mr. Hanson said to Mr. Mathews— + +ELEANOR. [_Alert._] Bother Mr. Hanson and Mr. Mathews. [_Coming +closer._] Bobbie Dorr, tell me the truth. You left us fifteen years ago +to prove that wealth was power. + +DORR. I know I made myself ridiculous. I believed then that humanity +could be bought and sold like merchandise over a counter. For a time I +succeeded after a fashion. I know better now. I confess my defeat. + +ELEANOR. [_Watching him._] What did you do with that large fortune, +Bobbie? + +DORR. [_Evasively._] It’s all gone—no use crying over spilled milk. I’m +rather poor now, and glad of it. There’s just enough left to provide for +my wants. All the rest is gone. Why do you look at me so strangely? It’s +all spent—that is, I got rid of it—I had no further use for it—I—gave it +away—I— + +ELEANOR. Bobbie! It was you!! + +DORR. Eleanor, a few moments ago you remarked to Mr. Hanson that you +wanted the donor of that fund to see what good it would accomplish. Now +I—I’m willing to confess—provided you take me along to India. + +ELEANOR. You have triumphed, after all! Wealth is power! + +DORR. Only when such a noble soul as yours dispenses it. [_He takes her +hand._] Give me a chance, Eleanor! May I go along to India? + +ELEANOR. Yes. [_She picks up her half-finished dispatch to the +Blausteins and smilingly they look at it as the curtain falls._] + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + Early Reviews of + English Poets + + + EDITED WITH AN INTRODUCTION + + BY + + JOHN LOUIS HANEY, Ph.D. + + +=The Regular Edition=, bound in red buckram cloth, gold stamped, with +gilt top, uncut, at =$1.20= _net_ (postage 13 cents). + +=The Library Edition=, printed on superior laid paper, with frontispiece +on Japan paper, bound in green boards with paper labels, gilt top, +uncut, limited to three hundred numbered copies at =$2.00= _net_ +(postage 16 cents). + + “It was a happy thought, that of collecting in one handy volume these + selected and important reviews.... It is not merely as a convenience + to the student, who can have here under his hand important documents + not otherwise readily accessible, that we welcome this volume, but as + comprising an instructive and significant chapter in English + literature.... The present work is complemented by excellent notes, + and an introduction containing an interesting historical sketch of the + English critical journals.”—_The Nation._ + + “Dr. John Louis Haney has performed a task of considerable usefulness + to students of literary history.... The introduction is a valuable + sketch of English periodical literature, bringing together many facts + for which we should hardly know where else to look.”—_The Dial._ + + “An entertaining book, ... Mr. Haney’s book needs neither excuse nor + explanation; it is surprising that such a book has not been written + long ago.... Until the appearance of Mr. Haney’s book the general + conception of early British criticism was a vague, formless thing.... + It is an amusing and certainly an edifying book.”—JOHN R. YOUNG in + _Chicago Evening Post_. + + “An interesting and serviceable survey of the history of English + criticism.... A valuable and entertaining collection.”—DR. RICHARD + GARNETT in _The Speaker_. + + + + + A BIBLIOGRAPHY + + OF + + Samuel Taylor Coleridge + + BY + + JOHN LOUIS HANEY, Ph.D. + +This important bibliography was issued in an edition limited to three +hundred numbered copies, printed from type and bound in boards with +paper labels; also, a large paper (quarto) edition of thirty copies, +numbered and signed, with frontispiece on Japan paper. It enumerates all +editions of Coleridge’s works; his contributions to other works and +periodicals; biographies, and editions of his letters; critical +articles, poetical tributes, portraits, etc. + + =Regular edition (300 copies), $4.00 _net_, postpaid.= + + =Large paper edition (30 copies), $10.00 _net_, postpaid.= + + “The importance of Mr. Haney’s book may be inferred from the fact that + under the heading ‘Marginalia’ no fewer than three hundred and + forty-one items are collected, as against the seventy odd titles + enumerated under that heading in the British Museum Catalogue—the only + other list of marginalia extant. The compiler has aimed at producing a + practical handbook for the literary worker.... In Mr. Haney’s work we + recognize a worthy attempt to grapple with a laborious and somewhat + intricate task, which has never yet been seriously taken in hand on + this side of the water.”—_The Athenæum._ + + “We do not remember a more comprehensive individual bibliography.... + The items are fully and systematically recorded and described. The + notes are valuable, giving the contents of collected works, facts + concerning publication, and many exact references to contemporary + reviews and criticisms of the newly issued works. This makes the list + of special use to students.... If more of Coleridge’s valuable + criticisms can be rescued from their penciled desuetude for + publication, Mr. Haney will have performed a double service by his + painstaking and very excellent work.”—_The Literary Collector._ + + “Il n’y a que des éloges à donner à la _Bibliographie de Coleridge_ + publiée par M. Haney. Ce volume de luxe deviendra indispensable à tous + ceux qui voudront étudier de près Coleridge.”—_Revue Germanique._ + + + + + THE NAME OF + + William Shakespeare + + A STUDY IN ORTHOGRAPHY + + BY + + JOHN LOUIS HANEY, Ph.D. + + +This extensive study deals with the origin, history and orthography of +the name Shakespeare and discusses the merits of the variant spellings. +It has received the cordial endorsement of the leading students of +Shakespeare in England and America. + +Seven hundred and fifty numbered copies, printed from type and bound in +blue-ribbed cloth, stamped in gold. + + =$1.00 _net_. (Postage 6 cents.)= + + “Accept my hearty thanks for your book on _The Name of William + Shakespeare_, which I have read with much interest and edification. It + is complete and exhaustive, and ought to be ‘the final word’ on the + subject—Your book ought to go into all the college and other leading + libraries, and into the hands of all critical students of Shakespeare. + I should doubt whether your limited edition would supply the natural + demand for it.”—DR. WILLIAM J. ROLFE. + + “A fair, complete and clear exposition of the subject. So far as we + have observed, it takes account of every scrap of evidence + available—Externally, the volume is a model of good taste; type, page + and binding are alike excellent. We regret that the edition should + have been limited to seven hundred and fifty copies.”—_The Nation._ + + THE EGERTON PRESS + 934 NORTH ELEVENTH STREET PHILADELPHIA + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● Enclosed blackletter font in =equals=. + ● HTML alt text was used for images that didn’t have captions. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77765 *** diff --git a/77765-h/77765-h.htm b/77765-h/77765-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6dda630 --- /dev/null +++ b/77765-h/77765-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5994 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Monsieur D’Or | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; 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font-weight:bold; + font-style: normal; } + .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77765 ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter ph1'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>MONSIEUR D’OR</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>BY THE SAME AUTHOR</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class='c002'><span class='large'><strong>A BIBLIOGRAPHY OF SAMUEL TAYLOR +COLERIDGE.</strong></span> With portrait. Edition limited +to three hundred copies, printed from type, +and a large paper edition of thirty copies.</p> + +<table class='table0'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth50'> +<col class='colwidth50'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Regular Edition</td> + <td class='c004'>$ 4.00 <i>net.</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Large Paper Edition</td> + <td class='c004'>10.00 <i>net.</i></td> + </tr> +</table> +<p class='c002'><span class='large'><strong>EARLY REVIEWS OF ENGLISH POETS.</strong></span> +With Introduction and Notes.</p> + +<table class='table0'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth50'> +<col class='colwidth50'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Regular Edition</td> + <td class='c004'>$1.20 <i>net.</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Library Edition</td> + <td class='c004'>2.00 <i>net.</i></td> + </tr> +</table> +<p class='c002'><span class='large'><strong>THE NAME OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.</strong></span> +A Study in Orthography.</p> + +<table class='table0'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth50'> +<col class='colwidth50'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>Regular Edition</td> + <td class='c004'>$1.00 <i>net.</i></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='titlepage'> + +<div> + <h1 class='c005'>MONSIEUR D’OR<br> <span class='xlarge'>A DRAMATIC FANTASY</span></h1> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='large'>JOHN LOUIS HANEY</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/titlepage.jpg' alt='A black laurel wreath encircling a central torch with a flame, tied at the base with a ribbon bow.' class='ig001'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>PHILADELPHIA</div> + <div>THE EGERTON PRESS</div> + <div>1910</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c007'> + <div><span class='small'>This edition is limited to two hundred and fifty copies printed from type and numbered.</span></div> + <div class='c006'>No. ——</div> + <div class='c007'><span class='small'>Copyright, 1910</span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='small'>By <span class='sc'>John Louis Haney</span></span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='small'>All rights, including presentation and translation, are reserved.</span></div> + <div><span class='small'>Application concerning public performances should be made to</span></div> + <div><span class='small'>The Egerton Press, 934 North Eleventh Street, Philadelphia.</span></div> + <div class='c007'><span class='small'><span class='sc'>Press of</span></span></div> + <div><span class='small'><span class='sc'>The New Era Printing Company</span></span></div> + <div><span class='small'><span class='sc'>Lancaster, Pa.</span></span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c007'> + <div>TO</div> + <div class='c006'><span class='blackletter'>My Parents</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c008'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!</div> + <div class='line'>Bright and yellow, hard and cold,</div> + <div class='line'>Molten, graven, hammered, and rolled;</div> + <div class='line'>Heavy to get, and light to hold;</div> + <div class='line'>Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold,</div> + <div class='line'>Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled;</div> + <div class='line'>Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old</div> + <div class='line'>To the very verge of the churchyard mould;</div> + <div class='line'>Price of many a crime untold;</div> + <div class='line'>Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!</div> + <div class='line'>Good or bad a thousand fold!</div> + <div class='line in32'>—Thomas Hood</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span> + <h2 class='c009'>THE CHARACTERS</h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-l c007'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>The Prolog</div> + <div class='line in4'>ROBERT DORR</div> + <div class='line in4'>SIDNEY HASTINGS</div> + <div class='line in4'>JACK NORGATE</div> + <div class='line in4'>BILLY FANSHAWE</div> + <div class='line in4'>PERCY MIDDLETON</div> + <div class='line in4'>HAROLD WESTBROOK</div> + <div class='line in4'>Mrs. SARA KEENE</div> + <div class='line in4'>ELEANOR RICHMOND, her niece</div> + <div class='line in4'>MARIAN WINTHROP</div> + <div class='line in4'>MARGARET THURBER</div> + <div class='line in4'>ROSE LOWELL</div> + <div class='line in4'>GERTRUDE PASTON</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Scene I</div> + <div class='line in4'>MONSIEUR D’OR</div> + <div class='line in4'>RAOUL LEHMANN</div> + <div class='line in4'>FRÉDÉRIC LEHMANN, his brother</div> + <div class='line in4'>M. BERTINE, their secretary</div> + <div class='line in4'>M. ALBERT</div> + <div class='line in4'>M. LORRAINE</div> + <div class='line in4'>ADRIENNE COURTEAUX</div> + <div class='line in4'>CÉLESTE BERGÈRE</div> + <div class='line in4'>M. FRÉMIET</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Scene II</div> + <div class='line in4'>MONSIEUR D’OR</div> + <div class='line in4'>ADOLPHE LEMAIRE</div> + <div class='line in4'>JEAN MOREAU</div> + <div class='line in4'>HENRI VAUX</div> + <div class='line in4'>HÉLÈNE VAUX, his daughter</div> + <div class='line in4'>Mme. CYPRIENNE DACIER</div> + <div class='line in4'>Mme. LUCETTE CLARY</div> + <div class='line in4'>BAPTISTE, a servant</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>Scene III</div> + <div class='line in4'>MONSIEUR D’OR</div> + <div class='line in4'>SIR MORTIMER MUIRHEAD</div> + <div class='line in4'>Mr. GILBERT, his secretary</div> + <div class='line in4'>BARON GRAEFFLINGEN</div> + <div class='line in4'>Herr LOBEN, his secretary</div> + <div class='line in4'>MARQUIS PALLOT</div> + <div class='line in4'>COUNT ANDRIEV</div> + <div class='line in4'>CLAIRE LASALLE, a stenographer</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Scene IV</div> + <div class='line in4'>MONSIEUR D’OR</div> + <div class='line in4'>Dr. MIRSKY</div> + <div class='line in4'>RAMANAND, an Oriental</div> + <div class='line in4'>CYRIL, a boy</div> + <div class='line in4'>EDITH PACKARD, a nurse</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Epilog</div> + <div class='line in4'>ROBERT DORR</div> + <div class='line in4'>Mr. MATHEWS</div> + <div class='line in4'>ELEANOR RICHMOND</div> + <div class='line in4'>Mr. HANSON, her secretary</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c010'>The forty characters may be distributed among thirteen players. +See note on page <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>.</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>THE PROLOG</div> + <div>A terrace adjoining the Dorr Villa at Lenox.</div> + <div class='c006'>SCENE I</div> + <div>The office of Lehmann Frères, St. Gallen.</div> + <div class='c006'>SCENE II</div> + <div>The music room of the Chateau D’Or, near Versailles.</div> + <div class='c006'>SCENE III</div> + <div>A private parlor in the Hotel Royal, Interlaken.</div> + <div class='c006'>SCENE IV</div> + <div>A chamber in a Balkan palace.</div> + <div class='c006'>THE EPILOG</div> + <div>A parlor in the Hotel Orient, Port Said.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c010'>Fifteen years elapse between the Prolog and the Epilog.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>NOTE</p> + +<p class='c010'>The forty characters may be distributed among thirteen players +as follows:</p> + +<table class='table1'> + <tr> + <th class='c011'>Prol.</th> + <th class='c011'>Sc. I</th> + <th class='c011'>Sc. II</th> + <th class='c011'>Sc. III</th> + <th class='c011'>Sc. IV</th> + <th class='c012'>Epil.</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Dorr</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>D’or</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>D’or</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>D’or</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>D’or</span></td> + <td class='c013'><span class='sc'>Dorr</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Westbrook</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>R. Lehmann</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Lemaire</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Muirhead</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Ramanand</span></td> + <td class='c013'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Hastings</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>F. Lehmann</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Moreau</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Gilbert</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Mirsky</span></td> + <td class='c013'><span class='sc'>Hanson</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Fanshawe</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Bertine</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Loben</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'><span class='sc'>Mathews</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Norgate</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Albert</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Baptiste</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Pallot</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Middleton</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Frémiet</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Andriev</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Lorraine</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Vaux</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Graefflingen</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Eleanor</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Adrienne</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Hélène</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Claire</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Edith</span></td> + <td class='c013'><span class='sc'>Eleanor</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Marian</span></td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Céleste</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Margaret</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Gertrude</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Lucette</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c013'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Rose</span></td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'> </td> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Cyril</span></td> + <td class='c013'> </td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span></div> +<div class='chapter ph1'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>MONSIEUR D’OR</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div> + <h2 class='c009'>THE PROLOG</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>[<i>A handsome terrace adjoining the ball room of the +Dorr Villa. Wide marble steps in the rear lead to a +higher tesselated walk with marble balustrades. As it is +night there is only a dim vista of the beautiful gardens +beyond. On the right there is a similar approach by +marble steps to the higher level. The ball room is +reached by steps on the left. Its glass doors and deep +windows are draped with exquisite lace curtains. Palms +and other exotic plants are placed appropriately about the +terrace; large, gaudy Japanese lanterns are strung overhead +at various points. At each side of the terrace there +is, in front of a bank of potted plants, a large marble bench +provided with silk cushions. The orchestra in the ball +room is playing a delightful Viennese waltz as the curtain +rises. During the earlier part of the scene recurrent noise +of laughter and chatter is heard from the dancers and their +shadows are reflected on the curtains of the room. As +the various couples emerge from the ball room or enter +from the rear they engage in mutual conversation as they +promenade without regard for the others. The characters +all suggest superabundant wealth and a marked air +of flippancy in the consciousness of their social preeminence. +A few moments after the rising of the curtain</i> +<span class='sc'>Sidney Hastings</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Marian Winthrop</span> <i>enter from +the ball room</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> So the court granted her the custody of the +children?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> And he is forbidden to marry again during +her life time.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> She gets alimony, of course?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Fifty thousand a year.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> Poor Mabel! She’ll spend that in three +months. I really believe the dear girl will have to make +up with him or find some one else who is willing to take +her with the youngsters. There’s three of them, you +know, Sid—and large families are not fashionable now. +She’ll never manage to scrape along on fifty thousand. +Why, he used to give her that in jewels every year!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> I believe you’re right, Marian. It seems a +bit hard, doesn’t it?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> Mabel would have done better if she had +gone to Reno. They’re specialists out there, you know—they +would have given her a square deal. [<i>They pass up +the steps at the right and return slowly by the upper walk +to the ball room. Meanwhile</i> <span class='sc'>Billy Fanshawe</span> <i>and</i> +<span class='sc'>Margaret Thurber</span> <i>enter direct from the ball room</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> Yes, the whole story is in the New York papers +this evening. Shot himself through the mouth and didn’t +live a minute. I felt sorry for the poor devil! Did you +know him?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Margaret.</span> I knew his wife—she was Susie Caxton—one +of the Amherst Caxtons. Lucky there’s no children. +Why did he do it, Billy?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> I suppose he couldn’t stand the pace his particular +Amherst Caxton was setting for him. He was +only a bank clerk, you know, and trying to keep up with +people who spent as much in a week as he earned in a year.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span><span class='sc'>Margaret.</span> I thought he had an important position +at the bank.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> My dear Margaret, how innocent you are! +His position was important enough, but they didn’t pay +him more than they had to. He tried the stock-market +to help him out and before he knew it he was juggling +the deposit slips like a professional crook. The warrant +was out for his arrest and he knew it. That’s why he +turned the gun upon himself.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Margaret.</span> Poor little Susie! She gave up Charlie +Decker, who is worth at least ten millions, to marry that +man. I suppose we’ve seen the last of her. [<i>During +the latter part of the conversation</i> <span class='sc'>Percy Middleton</span> <i>and</i> +<span class='sc'>Rose Lowell</span> <i>have entered from the ball room and have +walked across the back of the stage, so that they now pass</i> +<span class='sc'>Billy</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Margaret</span> <i>at the right and proceed along the +front while the other two sit on the bench at the right +side and converse</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Rose.</span> You shouldn’t associate with that woman, +Percy—she’s a notorious character.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Percy.</span> She’s not so bad. You girls are simply jealous. +Besides, there’s always a lot of reporters and johnnies +hanging around her dressing-room. There’s no +chance to get really intimate. She seems to think a lot +of me, though—you ought to hear her call me ‘mon cher +Pairsee’—she’s not strong on English, you know.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Rose.</span> I don’t know.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Percy.</span> Well, that’s why I’m telling you. The other +night I said to her, ‘Natalie, your tongue can’t speak +English, but your eyes can speak every language there is +in the world.’ [<span class='sc'>Billy</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Margaret</span> <i>rise from the +bench and return to the ball room by the upper walk</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span><span class='sc'>Rose.</span> That was rather neatly put, Percy.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Percy.</span> [<i>Flattered.</i>] Wasn’t it? The reporters wanted +to write it up for the papers, but I called them off. +Natalie doesn’t like notoriety. She’s not such a bad one, +Rose, when you get to know her. Of course, she likes +a bird and a bottle after the show and she gets a bit lively +at times, but she doesn’t lose her self-control. She’s a +thoroughbred. She’s not like that Margaret Thurber +we passed just now. At the Decker dance last week that +girl just stowed away champagne till she fell off her +chair. Now Natalie would know better than that; she’s—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Rose.</span> See here, I don’t want to hear any more about +that vulgar chorus girl—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Percy.</span> Oh! you’re just jealous—like the rest of +them. Maybe Natalie wouldn’t get a fit if she saw me +out here in the dark with you. I believe she’d scratch +your eyes out. She’s a spunky little filly—she’s a real +thoroughbred. You’ve got to treat her right. [<i>As they +pass off right to the garden</i>, <span class='sc'>Jack Norgate</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Gertrude +Paston</span> <i>stroll along the rear terrace from the left +and come down by the central steps</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> There’s Rose Lowell with that silly +Percy Middleton. I don’t see how she can tolerate the +fellow.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> That’s no enigma. He’s worth three or four +millions, whereas the Lowells are not rich.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> It’s cruel of you, dear, to say that. Rose +isn’t the sort of girl to marry for money.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> Why, Gertie, she must marry for money, +whether it’s cruel or not to say so. I’m sorry there’s +nothing more promising than Percy on her matrimonial +<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>horizon. Shall we sit down a while? [<i>They take seats +on the bench at the right.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> He’s a disgusting creature, Jack. I wish +the Dorrs wouldn’t invite him to their affairs.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> Have you heard of his escapade with Mrs. +Vansant?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> Ah! that impudent Vansant woman! +What has she been doing to Percy?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> They gave her charge of a booth at the charity +bazaar and when trade grew slack she announced that she +would auction off a dozen kisses among the men. Just +then Percy came along and bid fifty dollars for the entire +dozen. That silenced the rest and she had to accept +Percy’s bid. He promptly paid the money, took one kiss, +and notified her that he reserved the rest for future +delivery.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> What did Mrs. Vansant say to that?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> Oh! she was game! She told Percy that she +was ready whenever he was. I presume he will collect +those kisses one at a time whenever he can make himself +sufficiently conspicuous in doing it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> How disgusting! Buying and selling kisses!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> You’re right, dearest! Kisses were not meant +to be sold. [<i>He looks around towards the ball room to +make sure that they are alone, then kisses her passionately. +Meanwhile</i> <span class='sc'>Percy</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Rose</span> <i>have re-entered from +the right just in time for the tender scene. It is too late +to retreat, so they tiptoe awkwardly and hurriedly across +the back of the terrace to the ball room.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> [<i>Freeing herself.</i>] How imprudent, Jack. +Somebody might have seen us.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> Now don’t scold me, Gertie. I made sure +that we were alone; besides, I don’t often get a chance—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> [<i>Curtly.</i>] Won’t you take me back to +the ball room? [<i>They rise and walk towards the left.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> You’re not angry, I hope? We were talking +of kisses, dear, and I simply couldn’t help it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> We were talking of Percy Middleton’s +buying the kisses of that odious grass-widow.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> I’ll admit that I did wrong, and I’m very, very +sorry. Does that satisfy you? [<i>After a pause.</i>] Now +let’s kiss and make up.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] Another kiss! Jack, you’re +incorrigible. [<i>She kisses him tenderly.</i>] You dear boy! +Will it always be like this?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> [<i>Taking her in his arms.</i>] Always—forever—and +so on for eternity. We shall be all in all to each +other and the rest of the world will be as nothing to us. +Just you and I—we two alone—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> Dear Jack! I am so happy! [<i>They enter +the ball room. From the rear</i> <span class='sc'>Harold Westbrook</span> <i>and</i> +<span class='sc'>Eleanor Richmond</span> <i>come slowly down the central +steps; her demeanor is serious, his is somewhat depressed. +They seat themselves on the bench at the left side.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> How soon do you leave?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Harold.</span> In a few days. The ranch is a large one +and I’m needed out there. I had no intention of asking +you so soon, Eleanor—I’m afraid fortune has been against +me, but it was my last chance to see you alone—I had to +speak!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>With sympathy.</i>] I am heartily sorry it +cannot be otherwise, but our decisions in the real crises of +life seem often not to rest with ourselves.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span><span class='sc'>Harold.</span> Have you no hope to offer me? No chance +that some day you may be willing to join me in the West, +to work out our destinies together in the great world +beyond the plains?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> No, I feel sure it can never be—but I +hope we shall remain good friends. I want to hear from +you, Harold, and I shall pray for your happiness in your +new home. I shall always remember that you have paid +me the sincerest tribute that a true man can offer a +woman. You have put a consecrated seal upon our +friendship. No matter what our lot may be in the days +to come, we must never forget this night.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Harold.</span> Heaven knows, I shall never forget it. +There is consolation in the thought that you are not going +entirely out of my life. Your kindness has brought a +soothing calm over my great grief. I have no right to +ask if there is another to whom you have given your heart, +but Heaven has indeed blessed that man.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Heaven has blessed every man and every +woman who has known true love. If our human frailty +is such that we can never comprehend the full measure +of that blessing, we should at least be thankful for whatever +glimpse of the divine vision is granted us.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Harold.</span> You know best, Eleanor—your soul speaks +with a clearer insight than mine. I shall abide by your +decision—and I shall worship you till the end.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Don’t say that, Harold—you will meet +some one else—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Harold.</span> [<i>Softly, but with conviction.</i>] No, there +will never be any one else. [<i>They sit in silence for a few +moments. The music stops.</i> <span class='sc'>Harold</span> <i>takes her hand and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>kisses it reverently. They rise and walk silently into the +ball room.</i> <span class='sc'>Billy Fanshawe</span>, <span class='sc'>Jack Norgate</span> <i>and</i> +<span class='sc'>Sidney Hastings</span> <i>stroll in leisurely at the centre from +the terrace behind the ball room</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> [<i>Looking after them.</i>] Harold Westbrook has +been very attentive to Miss Richmond all evening.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> He’s wasting his time in that campaign. I’ll +back Bobbie Dorr for any amount to win her against the +field. [<span class='sc'>Sidney</span> <i>looks after the retreating figures and says +nothing</i>.] What do you think of it, Sid?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Miss Richmond is altogether too fine a girl +for Bobbie Dorr—that’s my thought. [<i>He offers a cigarette +to</i> <span class='sc'>Jack</span>, <i>who accepts, then to</i> <span class='sc'>Billy</span>.] Smoke, +Billy?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> No thanks! I came out for some fresh air. +Besides, smoking spoils my appetite. I’m going to make +another raid on the collation pretty soon. It’s excellent +stuff. I’ve had a couple of lobster cutlets, some sweet +breads and two of the nicest soft crabs I ever ate. The +Dorrs certainly know how to do things.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> [<i>Bitterly.</i>] Who wouldn’t know how to do +things with the income of forty-odd millions at one’s +disposal?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> Forty-odd millions! [<i>Whistles.</i>] Forty-odd! +Why, I’d be satisfied with the odd! [<i>Explaining.</i>] It +might be seven or nine, you know. [<i>In a lower voice.</i>] +I say, is that correct? Is it as much as that?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> I don’t believe that old man Dorr gathered so +much out of his Nevada mines. Of course, he piled up +a lot of money, but—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> I grant you, there were no forty millions in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>his silver mines, but you are evidently not aware of his +other interests that paid him enormously though his name +was never associated with them. You may remember +that no inventory was filed by the executors—but Simpson, +who was chief counsel for the estate, told me a few +things.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> [<i>Curiously.</i>] What did he say, Sid?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> He mentioned substantial shareholdings in +the Kimberley diamond fields, in the Swiss lace and embroidery +industries, in breakfast foods, railroads, waterpower +companies, automobile factories, tobacco, oil, sugar. +[<i>Savagely.</i>] I declare that when Simpson got through +with his catalogue of Dorr’s interests I felt convinced that +there was hardly a human creature in civilization who +didn’t pay tribute in some form to that old octopus.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> [<i>Looking reflectively at his cigarette.</i>] And +even the tobacco we are smoking! Rather lucky we know +the Dorrs, eh? We can get back some of our tribute +when we gather here as their guests.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> Bobbie Dorr and his aunt are certainly making +the income on the forty-odd millions circulate with +startling vivacity. I’m willing to help them. Won’t +you boys come in and get another bite of something to eat?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> No, thanks.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> We’ll finish our cigarettes first.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> Pity you fellows smoke so much—it spoils +your appetite. Well, I’m off for another lobster cutlet +and a sweetbread or two—[<i>He goes toward left.</i>] and I +shall certainly have another of those delicious soft crabs. +[<i>Exit left.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> I envy a man who can enjoy material existence +<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>as Billy does. Why, he’s a personified stomach. I +believe he’d sell his soul for a salad!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] Not much! Billy would make +a better deal than that. He would demand at least a +well-selected dinner with appropriate wines—then he +might feel satisfied that he had made a real bargain.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> He’s a sterling good fellow just the same—I’m +glad to number him among my friends. I need a +cheerful spirit like Billy about me occasionally—I am apt +to grow bitter when I let my thoughts dwell on such men +as Bobbie Dorr.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> I don’t see why you should feel that way about +Bobbie. Of course, he’s a child of fortune. With his +good looks, his wealth, and his fair allotment of brains +he is bound to play a conspicuous part in our social life.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> You know, Jack, I’m fond of growling at +times and just now I’m not above criticizing a man who +is virtually my host. There’s something I don’t like about +Bobbie Dorr. I don’t envy him his great wealth nor his +social triumphs, but that insufferable air of presumption +I cannot tolerate. What was his grandfather when he +started for the West half a century ago?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> Nobody in particular, I suppose.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Josiah Dorr was a strong, keen-witted Yankee +with no capital except his good health and his persistent +optimism. He knocked about for a good many years +before he made that lucky strike in Nevada.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> And then he married and lived unhappily ever +after.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Not at all! Dorr married while he was still +poor and with his usual luck chose a wife who was just +<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>the right sort for him—a woman of no pretensions, but +of sound common sense; and their married life was happy +enough until the children grew up.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> Bobbie’s father and his aunt Martha?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Exactly. The lamented Josiah, Jr., and +[<i>Pointing toward the ball room.</i>] our charming hostess. +Simpson told me that young Josiah was for many years a +thorn in the flesh of his parents. He seemed to progress +from one escapade to another till he crowned his list of +indiscretions by marrying a third-rate actress whose pretty +face was her only recommendation for public attention.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> I didn’t know that Bobbie’s mother was an +actress.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Neither did the public, though she tried hard +enough to make them think so. Of course, she gave up +the stage when she became Mrs. Josiah, Jr. She probably +expected to try her histrionic talent in melting the +heart of the stern parent—but old Dorr didn’t give her a +chance. He never laid eyes on her!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> Not even after Bobbie was born? That frequently +makes a difference!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Old Dorr saw nothing of Bobbie till both +Josiah, Jr. and his actress-wife were dead. Then Aunt +Martha took charge of Bobbie and the boy grew up under +her care. After that nothing was too good for the hope +of the family. They took him to Lausanne for his education, +gave him a thoroughly cosmopolitan training, topped +off with a few semesters at Heidelberg. He speaks four +languages—but I don’t believe he has been accused of +enriching the world’s store of thought in any of them. +Behold to-night the finished product, capering in yonder +<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>ball room! When he reaches his twenty-fifth birthday a +few weeks hence he will be the happy possessor of some +forty millions.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> A fellow has little excuse for being anything +but the most decent sort of chap under such conditions. +Fate has been unusually kind to Bobbie Dorr.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> He’s no silly offspring of superabundant +wealth—Bobbie’s a capital fellow in many respects, but I +can’t quite overlook his patronizing air, his superb confidence +in the power of his riches. That sort of thing is +pardonable in a man who has created the wealth, who has +wrested it from the unyielding earth by the sweat of his +brow or has won it by the exercise of his superior wit, but +it takes little genius to inherit another man’s money.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> Here he comes, Sid; we’re in for a quick change +of subject. [<i>Louder.</i>] In my opinion, these gardens are +among the most attractive at Lenox. There’s that fine +row of Lombardy poplars—[<span class='sc'>Robert Dorr</span> <i>enters from +the ball room. His evening attire is beyond criticism +save for the fact that he wears large gold studs in his +shirt, a heavy gold fob and several conspicuously large +rings.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Would anybody believe it? A room full of +charming girls, and you two solemn philosophers out here +in the dark discussing the Lombardy poplars. Can you +find nothing better to talk about?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> I’m sure we’re both booked for every dance +on the list. It’s a breath of fresh air we’re after now.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Meanwhile the ladies are commenting upon +your ungallant disappearance; but you cannot elude them +long. Billy Fanshawe is bringing out a small party to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>view the lower gardens. Perhaps such a trip would appeal +to you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> It’s a lark! I wonder how they ever got Billy +away from the lobster cutlets and the soft crabs. [<i>Enter</i> +<span class='sc'>Billy</span> <i>left, followed by</i> <span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene</span>, <span class='sc'>Marian</span>, <span class='sc'>Gertrude</span>, +<span class='sc'>Margaret</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Rose</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> [<i>Officiously, from the top step.</i>] All in line +for a personally conducted tour around the celebrated +Dorr gardens. The small and select party will be carefully +chaperoned by Mrs. Keene and will be under the +immediate direction of Mr. William Fanshawe, the well-known +cicerone, who will explain all points of interest.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> Bully, old man! You’re as impressive as the +prospectus of a Cook’s tour.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> Come on, girls. [<i>They descend to the +terrace.</i>] Why, Mr. Norgate and Mr. Hastings! I have +been wondering what had become of you.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> We just stepped out to admire the garden +and we now crave permission to join your small and select +party.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> I think they’re horrid in coming out here +to smoke and then to pretend they were admiring the +garden. I move that we refuse them permission to join +our party. All in favor say ‘aye.’</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>The Girls.</span> [<i>In chorus.</i>] Aye!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> It is carried. Mr. Hastings and Mr. Norgate +are not permitted to join us.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Pardon me, Miss Winthrop, you are not parliamentary. +You put your own motion—you even forgot +to wait till some one seconded it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> What was the use? I knew they were all +in favor of it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> You ought to be in Congress—they need +girls like you. But seriously, do you mean to say we may +not join you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> Yes, and it serves you right, too!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> Hold on! I want to amend that resolution. +If you girls don’t mind, I should like to have Jack Norgate +along. He knows the names of the trees and shrubs +better than I do.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Margaret.</span> What! better than the well-known cicerone?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> I regret to say he does. In fact, I might +make a mess of it without him.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> Shall we relent, Mrs. Keene?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> I suppose so, though you are adding to +my responsibilities as chaperone. [<span class='sc'>Billy</span> <i>mounts the +marble railing and detaches one of the Japanese lanterns</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Rose.</span> But only Mr. Norgate—not Mr. Hastings. He +has been too sarcastic.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Ladies, I am overwhelmed with the sense of +my shortcomings. I spare you the need of further deliberation +by admitting that I am unworthy of your company.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> How pathetic! I believe he’s glad we +don’t want him!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Margaret.</span> Mr. Dorr, won’t you join us?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Thank you—I think I shall try to entertain +Mr. Hastings during your absence.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> He ought to be left by himself.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I should hate to leave him in such bad company. +I want to try moral suasion on him.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> I hope he survives. [<i>Holds up the lantern.</i>] +Ladies, are you ready?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> We shall surely need more light. It +must be very dark at the foot of the garden.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> One’s enough. Besides, if we had more, you +might get confused and follow some other lantern instead +of mine.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Don’t forget to show the ladies the sun-dial.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Rose.</span> Oh! a sun-dial! Isn’t that romantic!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Especially at this time of night.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> It’s a quaint old dial that was brought over +from Italy many years ago.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> [<i>Whispers to</i> <span class='sc'>Dorr</span>.] By the way, Bobbie, +what does that Italian motto on the sun-dial mean? I +always forget it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> ‘Time will reveal all things.’</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> Thanks. That helps me over one difficulty +at least. Come on, ladies. We’re now under way! [<i>He +heads the procession off right, followed by</i> <span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene</span> +<i>and the girls. The latter speak almost simultaneously as +they leave.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> <i>Au revoir!</i> I hope you’ll enjoy that moral +suasion, Mr. Hastings!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Rose.</span> Don’t spare him, Mr. Dorr!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> I hope you will profit by it, Mr. Hastings!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Margaret.</span> You are too self-sacrificing, Mr. Dorr! +[<i>They go off.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] In such charming creatures as +these rests most of our happiness in life. I suppose I +ought to be in a penitent mood—they will all be ready to +forgive me when I dance with them later on. [<i>He offers</i> +<span class='sc'>Dorr</span> <i>a cigarette</i>.] Smoke, Dorr?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Takes cigarette.</i>] Thanks. [<i>After a pause.</i>] +<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>Do you know, Hastings, the women seem to be more or +less afraid of you? I’ve noticed it many times.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> The sex has evidently little respect for my +cynical philosophy. It’s a pleasure to toss a choice morsel +of flippancy at them and watch them gasp.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Reflectively.</i>] They’re a life-long study for +the keenest man. How splendidly they play their parts! +Every woman’s an actress at heart. [<i>Pointing to the garden.</i>] +There is a group of apparently ingenuous, simple-hearted +young creatures alive to the pleasure of the moment +and intent upon enjoying existence—yet I’ll wager that in +each feminine mind there are deep-laid schemes beyond +your detection or mine.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> We men are at a disadvantage because we +have no adequate weapon to match theirs—and the laws +of common courtesy render us helpless before their cleverly +concealed advances. To make matters worse, each +fair antagonist plans her campaign in her own individual +manner—woe to the presumptuous man who tries to generalize +their methods. No two of them will act precisely +alike in effecting their ends.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> They’re all alike in one thing, Hastings.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> What’s that?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Their respect for wealth! They may be as +individual as you please; but exhibit your pile of gold—the +talisman that puts the luxurious gowns upon their +backs and the gleaming jewels about their persons—and +you’ll find them all ready to purr like a lot of kittens over +a bowl of warm milk!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> See here, Dorr, I thought I was a bit of a +cynic myself, but I never quite believed that. You don’t +<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>mean to say that a woman cannot rise above a cringing +regard for mere material wealth?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I mean just that; no woman—and no man +either, for that matter. It was long before our time that +a famous statesman declared that every man had his price—and +I don’t believe he had any intention of ignoring +woman when he said it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> [<i>Seriously.</i>] Well, if you really feel that way +about it, I must insist that you are far more in need of +moral suasion than I am. We two are very different, +Dorr, in one respect.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Yes?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> If you will pardon my saying so, I flash an +occasional cynicism upon the ladies that puts them on their +guard and marks me as a person to be treated with caution. +You retain their good opinion by an outward show +of courtesy and deference, yet in your heart you entertain +sentiments that make it impossible for you to respect a +single human creature.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> We’re quite different in another respect, Hastings. +You light upon a thing of this sort and brood over +it until it spoils your good nature. I take it for granted +that we are all corruptible and that none can stand the +absolute tests of integrity, but I don’t worry about it. +This is a good enough world if one has the power to command +its good things. When it comes to testing the power +of its talisman [<i>He draws a few gold coins from his pocket +and jingles them.</i>] I must affirm that those who have tried +its virtues are, after all, the best judges of its merits. +[<span class='sc'>Sidney</span> <i>tosses away his cigarette with a gesture of disgust</i>.] +What’s the matter?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> The tobacco was beginning to taste bad; I +have smoked enough, anyhow. [<i>He rises and gazes down +into the garden.</i> <span class='sc'>Dorr</span> <i>hesitates for a moment, then +crosses to him.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Evidently you find my views very shocking. +Somehow I expected you to agree with me.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> I presume I am like most of my kind—when +I find a man more cynical than myself I conclude that it +is time to reform my philosophy of life. [<i>After a pause.</i>] +Bobbie Dorr, when you say that you believe all men and +women bow to the power of wealth, do you make no +reservations—no exceptions?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I make no exceptions—not even myself! If I +were a poor man, I should be as corruptible as the rest. +There are no exceptions!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> [<i>Slowly.</i>] Not even such a girl as—Eleanor +Richmond?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Annoyed.</i>] Why should you mention Miss +Richmond in this connection?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Pardon me—because I believe that you care +more about her than you do about most girls. I know +you admire her; I don’t hesitate to say that I regard her +as the embodiment of all that is lovable in woman. I +wondered whether you were willing to class her with the +rest of your mercenary herd—that is all.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>With constraint.</i>] Miss Richmond has always +enjoyed all the luxuries that wealth can supply. Where +gold has nothing to offer it cannot be expected to corrupt. +I should prefer to discuss this question in the abstract +without considering its bearing upon Miss Richmond, or +upon any one else, for that matter. [<i>Shrieks are heard +from the garden.</i> <span class='sc'>Sidney</span> <i>crosses to the right</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Something has happened to Mrs. Keene’s +party!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Peering off right.</i>] They are coming up the +path. Their lantern is extinguished! Billy’s personally +conducted tour seems to have ended in a fizzle.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> [<i>Looking towards the left.</i>] Those shrieks +were evidently heard in the ball room. Miss Richmond +is coming out. [<span class='sc'>Eleanor</span> <i>enters with an alarmed look. +Dorr crosses to her.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> What is it, Bobbie? I thought I heard +some one crying from the garden.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> You undoubtedly did. Billy Fanshawe has +been trying to guide Mrs. Keene and a party of the girls +about the place and he has evidently come to grief. We +shall know in a moment.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> You don’t suppose that anything serious +has happened?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> It’s hardly likely—Jack Norgate is with +them. [<i>Confused voices and exclamations off right, drawing +nearer.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Looking off.</i>] This way! Watch out for +that step! [<i>Another shriek and exclamations. The girls +tumble in hastily in couples. Finally</i> <span class='sc'>Billy</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Jack</span> +<i>supporting</i> <span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene</span> <i>between them</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Why, what has happened? [<i>The girls +assist each other in smoothing their ruffled hair and gowns. +The men escort</i> <span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene</span> <i>to the right bench, where +she gasps for breath</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> Billy Fanshawe was showing us around the +garden—and everything was so beautiful! We had just +reached the sun-dial and Billy raised his lantern to read +<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>the curious Italian inscription when a sudden gust of wind +blew out the light—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> And we were left in the dark—it was +pitch dark, and the boys had no matches!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> [<i>Dramatically.</i>] There was no sudden +gust of wind! Mr. Norgate deliberately blew out the +light. I never experienced anything so outrageous!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> My dear Mrs. Keene—I must protest. I was +simply leaning over Billy’s shoulder to see the inscription. +I was just about to read off the Italian words when I +suddenly found myself in total darkness.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Sidney.</span> Perhaps your Italian pronunciation put out +the light.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> [<i>Severely.</i>] Sidney Hastings, this is no +matter for jesting. The worst is yet to come! [<i>The +girls look at each other with assumed surprise.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Rose.</span> What do you mean?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> I mean that after that light went out +the behavior of those young men was disgraceful. There +was hugging and kissing all about me!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Margaret.</span> Oh! Mrs. Keene! How can you say such +a thing? Of course, we all uttered exclamations of surprise.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> You certainly did—and several of you +young ladies also said ‘stop’! [<i>The girls look at one +another.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> [<i>Slowly.</i>] I suppose Jack and I are disgraced +forever, Mrs. Keene, if you’re going to believe that about +us. I say it’s unkind.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> [<i>Witheringly.</i>] There is just one +thing I’d like to find out.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span><span class='sc'>Jack.</span> [<i>Innocently.</i>] What is it?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> Which of you two young men put his +arm around <i>my</i> waist—by mistake, of course! [<span class='sc'>Jack</span> +<i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Billy</span> <i>look foolishly at each other. The rest chuckle +wherever</i> <span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene</span> <i>cannot see them</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Marian.</span> [<i>To the rescue.</i>] I believe I put my arm +around your waist—I was very much frightened.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> [<i>With sarcasm.</i>] I dare say you girls +were so much frightened that you all had your arms about +each other’s waists; and our two gallant escorts—I suppose +they will also insist that they embraced each other for +mutual protection.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I think you might make some allowance, Mrs. +Keene. The boys were probably doing their best to keep +the party close together.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> The party was close enough, I assure +you. I’m glad it’s all over. No more garden trips for +me in the dark, especially when there are irresponsible +young men in the party. [<i>She rises and crosses to the +left.</i>] You girls had better come inside—the dancing will +go on in a few moments.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Rose.</span> I’m so sorry about the sun-dial. I scarcely had +a look at it—I was so anxious to see it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gertrude.</span> We couldn’t even read the Italian motto. +What was it, Billy?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Billy.</span> The exact Italian words have slipped my memory, +but they meant—let me see—they meant—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> ‘Time will reveal all things.’ [<i>Soft waltz +music begins in the ball room.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Keene.</span> A very good motto, Mr. Fanshawe. +Perhaps some day time will reveal how that light went +<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>out! Come, girls, the music has begun. [<i>They enter +the ball room in groups</i>, <span class='sc'>Dorr</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Eleanor</span> <i>in the rear. +They detach themselves from the rest.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Softly.</i>] The next dance is mine, Eleanor. +Shall we not stay out here for a few moments?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Yes, if you wish. [<i>He leads her to the +bench at the right.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I have been eager all evening to have a few +words with you apart from that restless whirl inside—just +we two alone, with our little secret!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> You silly boy! Be careful you don’t betray +us. [<i>Looks toward the garden.</i>] How delightful it is +out here in the open! There <i>is</i> a slight breeze. Bobbie, +do you believe Aunt Sara was right in declaring that the +boys put out that light?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Certainly. You heard Gertrude Paston say the +boys had no matches to re-light the lantern. Well, Jack +was out here smoking with Hastings before he joined your +aunt’s party.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Of course, Gertrude and Jack are rather +fond of each other—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I don’t blame him for not finding his matches.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> You know I didn’t mean that—I don’t +believe Jack would do such a thing! You wouldn’t, Bobbie?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Not in their bungling fashion, perhaps—but +there’s no telling what a fellow wouldn’t do for a few +golden moments with a girl he cared for. I grant that if +there’s a bevy of girls about, he may possibly hug the +wrong one—he may even embrace the chaperone, eh? +[<i>He laughs softly.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Don’t say such things, Bobbie. You shouldn’t +talk so flippantly.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> It’s true, isn’t it? In spite of their apparent +protests, there wasn’t one in that party who regretted the +little episode at the sun-dial—except your aunt, of course, +and she protested mainly on behalf of outraged social +decorum. One can hardly help being flippant about such +women!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Bobbie!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I know—she’s your aunt—that’s the best I can +say for her; she doesn’t deserve the honor. But after all, +why should we bother about these people? We can be +happy out here—with our secret. The time will be short +enough. Who has the next dance?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Looking at the card.</i>] Harold Westbrook.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> He won’t be long in claiming you. I can’t +help feeling decidedly jealous when I see some one else +swinging you about the floor. [<i>He takes her hand.</i>] But +soon I shall make them all envious forever—soon our little +secret will no longer be our own. Within two months +my grandfather’s fortune passes into my hands, and then—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Then you will be a very wealthy man, +Bobbie, but your fortune will carry serious responsibilities +with it. You can find better things to do than trying to +make the other boys envious of you.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> They must be envious when they learn that you +are mine, when they see you resplendent as a queen, dazzling +from head to foot; they’ll no longer sneer at my +wealth—they will realize what it has achieved for me!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Withdrawing her hand.</i>] What your +wealth has achieved for you! You believe that your +grandfather’s money makes a difference?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Why not? If I were a poor man, I wouldn’t +<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>ask a girl I loved to share my poverty and thus spoil her +own chance of happiness; but if I can give my wife everything +that heart can desire, why shouldn’t it make a +difference?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Reflectively.</i>] There is one great happiness +that is denied to the rich girl—the happiness that +comes to the self-sacrificing wife who helps her husband +in his struggle with the world, who stands at his side +offering aid and encouragement until together they forge +their way upward to the heights of success—a success that +both can cherish as a result of mutual effort.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> That’s all mere story-book sentimentality. Let +a poor husband and his self-sacrificing wife start out +together in a life of poverty, and ten to one he’s ashamed +of her when he has made his fortune—if he ever does. +The newspapers are full of such instances. Don’t cast a +romantic glamor over a state of affairs that would be +extremely unpleasant in real life. You wouldn’t be the +sort of girl for such a career!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>With spirit.</i>] A true woman finds her +happiness with the man she loves, whether rich or poor; +she does not find it in a mere riot of gold!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> But the gold helps! The gold makes life pleasant—it +gives us what we desire. [<i>She turns away.</i>] Why, +Eleanor, you’re not going to let this spoil things? Remember +our secret!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Bobbie—[<i>A pause.</i>] We can no longer—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> You’re not going to throw me over for a mere +difference of opinion? We have our lives before us and +everything to live for—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Yes, we have everything—except spiritual +<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>kinship. I’m sorry, Bobbie—heartily sorry, but I’m also +thankful I found that out in time. [<i>The music ceases.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> The dance is over! Westbrook will be here +in a moment to claim you. Will you let it end in this +way?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Rising.</i>] I cannot hope that you will +understand how distressed I am, but I want to say just +one thing, Bobbie—to-night seems to mark a turning point +in our lives. I trust it is for the best. Whatever happens +hereafter, I want you to remember the motto on your old +Italian sun-dial—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Mechanically.</i>] ‘Time will reveal all things.’</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Yes. We shall both grow older and perhaps +we shall see with a clearer vision than now. I shall +not forget—[<span class='sc'>Harold</span> <i>enters hastily from the ball room</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Harold.</span> Ah, Miss Richmond, you are here. The next +dance is mine, I believe?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Taking his arm.</i>] Yes, Mr. Westbrook. +Are you coming in, Bobbie?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Not now. [<i>As they pass up the steps left, he +deliberately lights a cigarette.</i>] ‘Time will reveal all +things.’—I hope it will; then we’ll see if I’m not right. +[<i>Taking a few gold coins from his pocket he tosses them in +his palm.</i>] Now, my golden friends, you, at least, will +be true to me! I shall rely upon you to show her—her +and all the rest of them your wonderful power! [<i>He +looks toward the ball room as the dance music resumes and +the curtain descends.</i>]</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span> + <h2 class='c009'>SCENE I</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>[<i>The office of Lehmann Frères in their factory at St. +Gallen. It is furnished in a manner appropriate to a +prosperous business concern. In the centre is a large rectangular +table with several chairs. At the left is a low +flat desk with papers, telephone and chair. Close to the +wall behind the desk is a telephone switchboard for communicating +with various parts of the works. At the right +there is a modern office-desk, richly furnished, with a hatrack +nearby. In the centre back is a large leather covered +davenport above which hangs a portrait of the late M. +Lehmann senior, the father of Lehmann Frères and the +honored founder of the establishment. Elsewhere on the +walls hang framed views of the plant and other appropriate +pictures. There are exits right and left to inner +offices, likewise two exits in the rear, the right exit leading +to the street and provided with a glass-door, the left exit +leading to the shops. Whenever the left exit is opened +the heavy whirr of machinery is heard within. As the +curtain rises</i>, <span class='sc'>Bertine</span> <i>is seen at the flat desk, left, signing +papers. A few moments later the telephone bell rings.</i> +<span class='sc'>Bertine</span> <i>answers the telephone at his desk</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> Hello!... Yes... M. Raoul Lehmann +is out at present.... This is his secretary, M. Bertine.... +Yes.... He should be here shortly.... No.... +M. Frédéric Lehmann has an important conference +on hand in this office at three o’clock.... No.... Impossible!... +No!... No!!... Very well.... Good-by. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>[<i>He hangs up the receiver and resumes work at his papers.</i> +<span class='sc'>Raoul Lehmann</span> <i>enters at the rear right entrance with +hat, cane and gloves, which he places on the rack near his +desk at the right</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> Good afternoon, M. Lehmann. I have just +had a telephone call from a reporter of <i>Le Journal</i> asking +for an interview with you or your brother.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Ah! So the newspapers have learned of our +trouble with our operatives. I presume they wish to send +a representative to the conference?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> Yes. I took the liberty of informing the +reporter that it was impossible.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Very good! Has my brother returned from +luncheon?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> Not yet, sir. [<i>He hands a telegram to</i> +<span class='sc'>Raoul</span>.] This telegram arrived while you were out.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Opens it and reads.</i>] ‘If possible, kindly +postpone conference till five o’clock. I wish to be present +at the meeting. Signed, D’Or.’</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> M. D’Or!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> As he chooses to call himself—the grandson +of the late Josiah Dorr, whose money coupled with the +brains of my honored father [<i>Pointing to the portrait.</i>] +made this great plant possible. Let me see—the Dorr +estate holds about one-third of the shares, does it not?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> Somewhat more. Within the last few months +they have increased their holdings to nearly forty per cent.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> In any event, it is enough to command respect +for such a request as this. [<span class='sc'>Frédéric Lehmann</span> <i>enters +at the rear right entrance with hat and gloves</i>.] Ah! +Frédéric. I have just received this communication from +M. D’Or. [<i>He hands the telegram to</i> <span class='sc'>Frédéric</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Reads.</i>] So! The mysterious grandson +and heir!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> We must accede to the request. He may +make trouble otherwise—we have enough to worry about +without antagonizing our shareholders.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> By all means! If he is anything like his +grandfather, he will strengthen our position very much. +Old Josiah always took care that he got his share of the +spoils—and usually a little besides!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Bertine.</span>] Kindly have M. Albert sent +here at once. He heads the delegation, I believe?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> Yes. [<i>He goes to the house-telephone and +adjusts the plug.</i>] Hello.... Yes.... Ask M. Albert +to come to the office.... Yes.... That’s all.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Looking at the telegram.</i>] So the grandson +of old Mr. Dorr blossoms into M. D’Or!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Some rogue of a genealogist probably convinced +him that the change of name could be defended. +The rich American has a weakness for that sort of thing. +The manufacture of genealogies is a more profitable industry +than that of laces, Frédéric!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Very likely; but it demands an imagination—an +inventive faculty that most of us do not possess. +[<span class='sc'>Albert</span> <i>enters at the rear, left. He bows respectfully +to the</i> <span class='sc'>Lehmanns</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> M. Albert, our conference this afternoon will +be postponed until five o’clock. M. D’Or, who is one of +our American shareholders, wishes to attend the meeting, +so we are making this change to accommodate him.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Albert.</span> Very well, M. Lehmann. Shall I inform +my associates?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Yes. I believe there are five of you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span><span class='sc'>Albert.</span> Two of the men besides myself and two of +the women.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> You may return to your work, M. Albert. +[<span class='sc'>Albert</span> <i>bows himself out at the left rear entrance</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Who has been examining a paper at the +table.</i>] M. Bertine, will you look over this schedule and +compare it with the duplicate on file in my office?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> [<i>Taking the paper.</i>] Very well, M. Lehmann. +[<i>He bows low and goes out at the side door, left.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Bah! What a life it must be to cringe and +bow continually to one’s superiors. Our M. Albert from +the shops is scarcely more servile than our M. Bertine in +his attitude towards us.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> True enough; but let M. Albert show lack +of respect to so influential a man as M. Bertine and he +would soon feel the consequences. Even the secretary of +Lehmann Frères is a great man in the eyes of his inferiors. +[<i>He goes to his desk.</i>] It’s a queer world, Frédéric, but +there’s considerable satisfaction to be gained from being +in the front ranks.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Yes—to issue orders, not to take them; to +command men, not to obey them. [<i>Looks at the portrait.</i>] +What a debt we owe, Raoul, to the genius of our dear +father!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Drily, at the desk, without looking around.</i>] +And to the money of old Josiah Dorr!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Certainly—but tell me, could anything be +more useless, in fact more harmful than such money unless +administered with discretion and foresight?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> By the way, Frédéric, M. Bertine has just +informed me that the Dorr interest is now forty per cent. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>of our capital. Have you been keeping track of the stock-transfers?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> You signed the certificates as well as I.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> True; they were all for small amounts, but +it now occurs to me there were a great many of them. I +often regret that we ever reduced our holdings below an +actual majority of the stock. Of course, you had to furnish +your villa on the Axenstrasse—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> And you needed money to keep your racing-stables +stocked with thoroughbreds. You know very well, +Raoul, that you disposed of more shares than I did.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> We have both been careless in the matter. +Our joint holdings are about forty-five per cent., which is +but a little more than the Dorr estate now holds. I +know, the rest is scattered in small lots, but I get apprehensive +at times. [<i>He goes over to</i> <span class='sc'>Frédéric</span>.] Frédéric, +we have a serious duty before us—we must regain a majority +interest of the stock.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> You are right. We cannot afford to take +chances on losing control of the business. I shall increase +the mortgage on my villa; you can probably spare a few +of your horses?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Yes. We must also devise other means of +raising money. One thing is certain—we cannot grant the +demand of our workpeople for higher wages. [<i>He picks +up the petition from</i> <span class='sc'>Bertine’s</span> <i>desk and scans it</i>.] I +note that they ask for a uniform advance of ten per cent. +in all departments.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> They might as well ask for one hundred +and ten per cent. [<i>Laughing.</i>] You and I agree on that +subject, at least—and M. D’Or is not likely to intercede +<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>for them if he is as fond of fat dividends as his respected +grandfather used to be!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> We need not fear M. D’Or. It is probably +idle curiosity that brings him here. [<i>Voices are heard in +the room, left.</i> <span class='sc'>Bertine</span> <i>enters excitedly, followed by</i> +<span class='sc'>D’Or</span>, <i>who is dressed in fine white flannels, with gold-headed +cane, gold band on straw hat, several conspicuous +gold rings and a heavy watch fob</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> [<i>Spluttering.</i>] M. D’Or! M. Raoul Lehmann, +M. Frédéric Lehmann! [<i>He bows himself out.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With familiarity.</i>] Ah, gentlemen, so I stand +in the presence of Lehmann Frères. [<i>They shake hands.</i>] +You evidently expected me to enter by your front door +[<i>Points back, right.</i>] but I stole a march on you. I have +been inspecting the factory for the past two hours.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Surprised.</i>] Inspecting the factory!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I have been all over the plant—it is truly a +model establishment. I am pleased to be associated in +the control of such an admirable hive of industry. You +will pardon my unconventional way of learning these +things, but I did not wish to be bored by an official and +perfunctory inspection starting from the office. I therefore +took matters into my own hands—and starting at the +bottom, I have worked my way to the intellectual summit +of the structure. [<i>He looks about him.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> It is a pleasure to know that we stood this +unusual test so well, M. D’Or—but, after all, the house +of Lehmann Frères has nothing to conceal—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Evidently not. Your product is of the highest +grade and commands the best markets; your people work +under the most hygienic conditions. They are a busy multitude—those +<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>hundreds of men and women in the shops. +By the way, gentlemen, I observed some very pretty girls +among them—but I suppose you are already familiar with +that fact.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Coldly.</i>] Pardon me, M. D’Or—my brother +and I are hardly in a position to admire the personal +charms of our employees. We are both married men.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Ah! I see—you may not talk freely of such +things. How promptly you seem to suspect that I was +about to intimate something quite shocking. Charming +girls, just the same, even if they do not bask in the sunshine +of your favor. I became interested in one of the +young women in your lace department and stopped for a +few moments to question her about her work—a Mlle. +Adrienne—Adrienne—[<i>He pulls out a small memorandum +book.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Mlle. Courteaux.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Thank you—that was the name. I was amazed +at her dexterity and the rapidity with which she worked. +It was fascinating; yet she told me that she receives only +thirty-five francs a week.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Did she say <i>only</i> thirty-five francs? She is +one of our most skilful and best-paid operatives.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> No—I supplied the <i>only</i>! It is an outrage—that +attractive young figure bending over the machine, +those well-shaped, nimble fingers constantly at work—and +a miserable five and thirty francs at the end of the week! +No wonder your workers are complaining.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> But, M. D’Or, we pay the same wages as +all the rest. There must be a profit in the business—a +fair return for the large capital invested.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I wish above all things to act intelligently +when we meet their delegation this afternoon—that is why +I chose my own way of becoming acquainted with the +establishment. Have your people formulated their grievances?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Taking the document from</i> <span class='sc'>Bertine’s</span> +<i>desk</i>.] Yes, here is their petition addressed to us. We +did not wish to be subjected to their oratory at the conference, +so we insisted upon a preliminary bill of complaint.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Scanning the sheets.</i>] H’m—in view of the +prosperous times—plant working to the limit of its capacity—unprecedented +business—increased rents—higher cost +of living—we request a general increase of ten per cent. +Why, surely, it is very little that they ask?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Do you realize what an effect it will have +upon our dividends?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Are not our shareholders entitled to first +consideration?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Still glancing at the petition and not heeding +their remarks.</i>] ‘Respectfully submitted, Messrs. Albert, +Lorraine, Frémiet; Mlles. Céleste Bergère, Adrienne +Courteaux’—well, I declare, my charming friend of the +lace-machine is to be one of your delegation! How soon +do we meet them?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> I think we had better agree upon some line +of action before we invite the delegation to the office. We +should at least present a united front.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> How do you usually act in such an industrial +crisis as this?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Sometimes we find it necessary to make a partial +concession—they are usually crafty enough to ask for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>twice what they expect to get. Occasionally we can win +over a delegation by assuring them of an individual raise +in wages and thus send them back to their associates with +a discouraging report.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> We dare not tamper with the present delegation—they +would be difficult to handle. Their leader, +Albert, is a quiet fellow, but the soul of honor. [<i>Looks +over the petition.</i>] Lorraine is an old man, generally +esteemed and beloved by his associates; Frémiet is a rascally +socialist, a constant breeder of trouble. [<i>He drops the +petition.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Picking up the petition.</i>] And the girls, Mlles. +Céleste and Adrienne—what lovely names they have!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> We never worry about the women in such +delegations. They are easily managed. It is strange, +Raoul, that just those two should have been chosen. You +should know, M. D’Or, that Adrienne Courteaux is +a good, highly respected girl, who is supporting her widowed +mother. As for Mlle. Bergère—what shall I say, +Raoul?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>With sarcasm.</i>] I hardly know how she will +appeal to M. D’Or’s fancy. She lacks exactly those +virtues and qualities that strike us so favorably in Mlle. +Courteaux.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Well, gentlemen, I see that you know something +after all about the young women of your establishment, +in spite of the fact that you are both married men—but, +seriously, how do you propose to answer their +request for an advance?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> There is but one answer if we are not to +reduce our dividends—the request must be refused.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> And the admirable Mlle. Courteaux, supporting +a widowed mother, will continue to get only thirty-five +francs a week?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Her case seems to distress you most. Do +you realize that even with the increase she would be earning +less than forty francs?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> True—I hadn’t thought that it meant so little—so +contemptibly little. Gentlemen, I propose that we +grant the ten per cent. increase and that in such deserving +cases as Mlle. Courteaux’s we give an additional increment.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Leaping to his feet.</i>] M. D’Or, pardon me—but +what you propose is impossible! Lehmann Frères +are now paying the maximum wage-scale. We cannot +increase wages further without defying an established economic +law.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> M. Lehmann, the economic law has tyrannized +over us long enough—it must be taught a wholesome +respect for the power of gold. Of what value is wealth +if it cannot crush so immaterial a thing as an economic +law?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> If you have no regard for your own interests, +you should at least respect the investment of the other +shareholders.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Who are the other shareholders?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> You hold some forty per cent. from your +grandfather’s estate together with recent additions; my +brother and I jointly own—[<i>A pause.</i>] about half of the +stock or a little over. That leaves about six or eight per +cent. in small scattered holdings. [<span class='sc'>Frédéric</span> <i>looks anxiously +at</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With a sinister expression, drawing a bundle +of certificates from his pocket.</i>] M. Lehmann, you and +your brother own forty-five per cent. or less! The so-called +scattered holdings are not six or eight per cent.—here +are at least fifteen per cent.—you will observe that +each certificate is endorsed in my favor.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Leaping up.</i>] Then you actually own a +majority of the stock? [<span class='sc'>Raoul</span> <i>buries his face in his +hands and groans</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yes. The Blausteins at Paris have been quietly +obtaining this little block of Lehmann Frères for me. +Gentlemen, I was surprised to learn that you had permitted +the control to escape you.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Walking excitedly.</i>] Why should the delegation +consult with us, Frédéric? M. D’Or now dominates +the situation—why prolong the agony?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You should not be so bitter, M. Lehmann, +because the sins of your own negligence have found you +out. Your lie a moment ago is pardonable. I recognize +your talents—you have maintained and advanced a great +industry established by your father. I hope you will continue +to direct the interests of Lehmann Frères. I simply +wish to act as spokesman in the conference with your delegation—I +may say <i>our</i> delegation of workers.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Why ask of us a favor that we have no power +to withhold? Complete your triumph! We are in your +hands! [<span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>glances for a moment at the angry</i> <span class='sc'>Raoul</span>, +<i>then turns to</i> <span class='sc'>Frédéric</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Kindly summon the committee!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Rings.</i> <span class='sc'>Bertine</span> <i>enters, left</i>.] M. Bertine, +please ask the delegation to come at once. [<span class='sc'>Bertine</span> <i>goes +<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>out, rear left. Frédéric crosses over to</i> <span class='sc'>Raoul</span>, <i>who +seems crushed and helpless. He tries to encourage</i> <span class='sc'>Raoul</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Looking at portrait, after a pause.</i>] Your +father’s portrait, I presume?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Thank Heaven, he did not live to see this day!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Drily.</i>] If he had lived there would have +been no such day—at least, it would not have disturbed +his equanimity.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Comforting</i> <span class='sc'>Raoul</span>.] Do not reply, Raoul. +Let us at least preserve appearances before our employees. +[<i>Enter, rear left</i>, <span class='sc'>Bertine</span>, <i>followed by</i> <span class='sc'>Albert</span>, <i>then</i> +<span class='sc'>Céleste</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Adrienne</span>, <i>finally</i> <span class='sc'>Lorraine</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Frémiet</span>. +<i>Throughout this scene</i> <span class='sc'>Raoul</span> <i>labors under suppressed +excitement</i>; <span class='sc'>Frédéric</span> <i>is more composed</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> M. D’Or, this is the delegation of our +workpeople who have arranged for to-day’s conference. +May I say to the committee that we are honored in having +with us M. D’Or, who has a large interest in Lehmann +Frères and wishes to participate in our deliberation.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I should like to meet the delegates individually.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Indicating.</i>] M. Albert is their leader.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Shaking hands.</i>] M. Albert, I am glad to +grasp the hand of a man who has the mark of leadership +in his personality. [<i>Pointing to the petition.</i>] Is this petition +your work?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Albert.</span> [<i>Modestly.</i>] Only partly, monsieur. The +committee worked on it as a body.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> It is a masterful summary. I congratulate +you! [<span class='sc'>Albert</span> <i>bows with a look of gratification and steps +aside</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Introducing</i> <span class='sc'>Lorraine</span>.] Our oldest worker, +M. Lorraine.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> The oldest worker! Most interesting! How +long have you been associated with the company?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lorraine.</span> I was twenty when the honored father +[<i>Points to the portrait.</i>] of Messrs. Lehmann first engaged +me—and I’ve been here ever since. I have two sons and +five grandsons here now. I am seventy-three years old.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Astonished.</i>] Fifty-three years of faithful service—and +you are still among the workers! How is it +that you have not risen to prosperity in that time?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lorraine.</span> [<i>Without bitterness.</i>] We cannot all hope +to reach the top. Some of us have not the brains—and +others have not the chance. I have always been a sober +and industrious man, but the pay is not large. I do not +complain, however—I have always been treated well.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> It is unjust—rankly unjust! [<i>He turns to</i> +<span class='sc'>Frémiet</span>.] And our third delegate?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Curtly.</i>] M. Frémiet.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Ah! I recall—the anarchist!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frémiet.</span> Pardon me, I am a socialist.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Is there any difference? [<span class='sc'>Frémiet’s</span> <i>look is +contemptuous</i>.] I am quite unfamiliar with your nice +distinctions of political or economic creed. I dare say you +regard yourself as a very badly used person?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frémiet.</span> Yes. Every worker is badly used. He does +not get his share of the wealth that he creates by the sweat +of his brow.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I suppose you believe that all men are created +equal?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frémiet.</span> They are not—they should be.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Ah! So you actually have a grudge against +Nature in the first instance. How unhappy you must be! +<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>At any rate you believe in social equality. Let me test +your faith. You are a workman, laboring faithfully +week after week at the plant of Lehmann Frères; I am a +gentleman of leisure, living idly on an inherited income. +Do you believe that any social upheaval can ever make me +your equal?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frémiet.</span> [<i>Misunderstanding.</i>] I regard myself as +any man’s equal, poor and crushed as I am. It is a cruel +social tyranny that keeps us down.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Pardon me, my friend—you did not listen carefully. +I asked whether you believed that any social upheaval +could make me <i>your</i> equal.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frémiet.</span> You are mocking me, M. D’Or. In your +heart you know that you are my superior—my superior in +everything that is most desirable in this world. You live +your life according to the dictates of your own fancy, you +call no man master, the pleasures of the world are at your +beck. Why should you seek to torture me and these others +on the rack?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Turning to the</i> <span class='sc'>Lehmanns</span>.] Really, I had no +idea that my visit was to be so interesting! [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Frémiet</span>.] +M. Frémiet, you are something better than a socialist—you +are a poet. Instead of working at the lace-machines +you should capitalize your thoughts. You would soon +attract sufficient attention to make you rich and famous—and +incidentally to drive every vestige of socialism out of +your system. [<span class='sc'>Frémiet</span> <i>bows with evident pleasure</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Introducing</i> <span class='sc'>Céleste</span>.] Mlle. Bergère.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Céleste.</span> [<i>With a curtsy, archly.</i>] Céleste Bergère.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Bowing.</i>] Mademoiselle, I am particularly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>interested in the welfare of the young women in our workrooms. +In which department are you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Céleste.</span> I assist in sorting and packing embroideries.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> And what is your pay for this service?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Céleste.</span> Twenty francs a week.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Twenty francs! How can one live on such +wages?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Céleste.</span> [<i>With a deliberate look at the</i> <span class='sc'>Lehmanns</span>.] +One cannot—and very few make the effort. [<i>The</i> <span class='sc'>Lehmanns</span> +<i>are astounded and annoyed at her audacity; the +men of the delegation seem uneasy</i>; <span class='sc'>Adrienne</span> <i>draws away +from</i> <span class='sc'>Céleste</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With sympathy.</i>] Pardon me for asking that +question. I might have anticipated the answer. Of course, +a girl living at home with her family is under less expense—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frémiet.</span> [<i>Starting forward.</i>] How about the rest? +It means ruin for the rest!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Waving</i> <span class='sc'>Frémiet</span> <i>back and introducing</i> +<span class='sc'>Adrienne</span>.] I believe you have met Mlle. Courteaux.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Graciously.</i>] Yes, I met Mlle. Courteaux in +the lace department. Your pay is thirty-five francs a week—it +is inadequate, I know.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> It would not be so bad if it were not for +the doctor and for the medicines that my mother needs.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You are your mother’s sole support?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> Yes. [<span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>looks at her in mingled admiration +and pity</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Mlle. Courteaux receives high pay as the +schedule is arranged. There are hundreds who receive +far less.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Heaven help the hundreds—and the thousands +<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>of their kind elsewhere. [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Adrienne</span>.] Are you happy +at your work?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> Yes; it is not difficult—one soon acquires +the necessary skill.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> But you are surely looking forward to something +better—something less monotonous than a lace-machine!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Albert.</span> I hope some day to make Mlle. Courteaux +my wife.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Some day?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Albert.</span> Yes. As soon as my pay is sufficient to keep +us both.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Looks at</i> <span class='sc'>Albert</span>, <i>then</i> <span class='sc'>Adrienne</span>.] This, +too! Another tyranny of our industrial system! [<i>Turns +to</i> <span class='sc'>Frédéric</span>.] Can Lehmann Frères afford to be accessories +to such hardships?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Coldly.</i>] It is distressing, of course—but +we surely cannot undertake to reform society and bring +about universal happiness.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Stepping forward.</i>] May I remind M. D’Or +that we have summoned this delegation to discuss the +wage-scale? We can hardly reach any conclusion by +considering the individual cases before us.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With suppressed anger.</i>] Thank you for reminding +me, M. Lehmann. I have made the mistake of +regarding our delegation as a group of human beings. +[<i>He seats himself between the</i> <span class='sc'>Lehmanns</span>.] Let us +settle down to business. I take it for granted we are all +familiar with the contents of this petition—it sums up the +situation aptly—unless our friend Frémiet wishes to make +a speech?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span><span class='sc'>Frémiet.</span> I have no speech to make, M. D’Or. I +have been listening attentively to you—you are a fair-minded +man. I am perfectly willing to leave our grievances +in your hands. [<span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>is visibly flattered</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Very well. [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Raoul</span>.] Now, M. Lehmann, +you are the head of this great establishment—for +years you have directed it ably and profitably. What do +you suggest?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Looking keenly at</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.] Are you asking +for my opinion?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Certainly. Can we do anything for our people?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Speaking cautiously.</i>] Perhaps what I say +may appear unsympathetic—but I have always proceeded +on the assumption that the shareholders deserve first consideration +in the distribution of earnings. Our relation +with our workers is in the nature of a personal contract—we +offer a certain wage and they are free to refuse it and +stay out of our employ if they so desire.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> That is sufficiently blunt to be understood by +any one—and it’s also quite orthodox, I believe; but let +us drop abstractions. Can we afford the requested increase +in wages?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Feeling his way.</i>] I wish to do the fair +thing—but before all else I must advise the safe course. +Our reports show clearly that a ten per cent. increase in +all departments would ruin the concern. Perhaps we +might compromise on a five per cent. advance and try it +for—say six months, without committing ourselves to continue +it beyond that term unless our earnings justify—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Impatiently.</i>] Nonsense, M. Lehmann; you +would offer Mlle. Bergère an extra franc per week, the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>others perhaps two francs or less—do you imagine that +you have solved the problem? I propose that we try the +ten per cent. increase and give it a fair test.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Céleste.</span> [<i>Eagerly.</i>] Oh! M. D’Or, you are our +good angel!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Flattered.</i>] What is more, I propose to learn +the circumstances of every girl who works in this plant, +and wherever conditions warrant it, I shall recommend +an increase of twenty per cent. or even more—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> It is impossible! We shall face bankruptcy!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> We might try it, at any rate.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Fiercely.</i>] Your plan cannot succeed.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Ominously.</i>] None the less I ask you—shall +we try it?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>After a struggle.</i>] Yes, if you insist! [<i>The +workers are astounded.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Frédéric</span>, <i>blandly</i>.] Do you also agree?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Yes. Do whatever you think best!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>To the delegation.</i>] Your petition is favorably +considered and you may report to your associates that +an increase of ten per cent. in all wages goes into effect +immediately. [<i>The delegates are delighted</i>; <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>pays +no attention to the rest, but gazes at</i> <span class='sc'>Adrienne</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Albert.</span> [<i>Kissing</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or’s</span> <i>hand</i>.] You are a friend of +humanity, M. D’Or!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lorraine.</span> [<i>With choking voice.</i>] I speak for my +sons and grandsons when I say, ‘Heaven bless you!’ You +have brought joy into our lives.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frémiet.</span> If all employers were like you, monsieur, I +would stay away from our socialistic meetings.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span><span class='sc'>Céleste.</span> [<i>Boldly.</i>] M. D’Or, Adrienne and I also +wish to thank you, do we not? [<span class='sc'>Adrienne</span> <i>stands with +bowed head beside her</i>.] You have made us so happy! +You will be a hero henceforth in the eyes of us all. [<i>She +turns to</i> <span class='sc'>Adrienne</span>, <i>expecting her to say something</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> And what do you say, Mlle. Courteaux? +[<span class='sc'>Adrienne</span> <i>raises her head and looks fixedly at</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>for +several moments of tense silence; then with a sob she +bursts into tears</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Albert.</span> [<i>Hastening to her.</i>] The truest tribute of +all, M. D’Or! The tribute of tears!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Curtly.</i>] The conference being over, you +may return to your work. [<i>The delegates pass out at the +rear left.</i>] M. Bertine, you will at once post a notice in +the shops announcing the increase in wages. [<span class='sc'>Bertine</span> +<i>goes off, left</i>. <span class='sc'>Raoul’s</span> <i>demeanor changes completely</i>.] +M. D’Or, in my whole life I have never experienced such +a sense of humiliation, of utter degradation as in the last +half hour. What a terrible man you are! How could +you trample us so ruthlessly under foot—and before our +workpeople—treating us like a pair of impotent puppets!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Coolly.</i>] I like to feel the power of my wealth. +You have had the same experience in dealing with your +workers.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Why don’t you exercise your power over +them? It is easier and cheaper.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> They know the power of wealth—they need +no further demonstration. The war of wealth against +wealth is more to my taste at present. Besides, gentlemen, +it is cleaner sport.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Don’t you realize that as the majority stockholder +you must pay the lion’s share of the bill?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yes, but it’s worth whatever it costs to see +such a precious pair as you brought to terms. I am satisfied +with the reward that my generosity will bring. By +nightfall I shall be heralded through the town as the kind +friend of the downtrodden workers—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Bitterly.</i>] And Lehmann Frères will lose +thirty to forty thousand francs a year!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Of which nearly one half will fall upon you +and your brother.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> You forget, M. D’Or—there is still one resource. +It would not be difficult to prove in any court +of law that you are an irresponsible person. When a +man, in order to gratify a passing whim, seeks to disturb +the economic balance—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With a sneer.</i>] Economic balance! I like that +phrase! On the one hand, our wealth, securely entrenched +with all its vast unlimited influence; on the other, the +hands and brains of the numerous wretches whom we call +our employees. Economic balance, indeed!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> M. D’Or, we shall not be ruined without +a struggle. This industry has been fostered through two +generations of growth and development. We take pride +in it—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Let us stop quarreling, gentlemen—I have +heard enough in this strain. At what figure do you estimate +your holdings in Lehmann Frères?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Interrupting</i> <span class='sc'>Frédéric</span>.] This morning our +joint holdings were worth six hundred thousand francs—Heaven +knows what they are worth now, with you in the +saddle!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Deliberately.</i>] Then I presume the easiest +<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>way for me to restore peace and to avoid a commission in +lunacy would be to pay you—let us say eight hundred +thousand francs?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> What do you mean? To buy us out?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Toying with the petition.</i>] Yes—for eight +hundred thousand francs.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> On what terms?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> A sight draft on the Blausteins at Paris. [<i>A +frantic discussion between the brothers, which evokes a +smile from</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Finally.</i>] We accept your offer!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Are you no longer afraid that I am a desperate +madman? Are you sure that a man who disturbs the +economic balance can legally transact business? Would +not the sale of your holdings at such an outrageous overvaluation +be liable to attack in your courts?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Suavely.</i>] Not unless you or your friends +should proceed. You made the offer yourself—we are not +likely to test your sanity after the draft is honored.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Gentlemen, I see you are not without a sense +of humor. Kindly draw up a formal agreement—the +actual transfer of the property can be effected to-morrow. +[<span class='sc'>Raoul</span> <i>prepares an agreement</i>.] You can make immediate +delivery, I presume?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Yes. There is nothing to prevent you from +taking absolute possession of the entire establishment at +once. You will henceforth be able to follow the dictates +of your own fancy in administering the affairs of the company. +Would it be an impertinence to wish you success +in your venture?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I fear it would be, in the face of your conviction +that I am doomed to inevitable failure.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> You are trying to do the impossible!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> The impossible is the only thing worth doing +nowadays. [<span class='sc'>Raoul</span> <i>shows the agreement to</i> <span class='sc'>Frédéric</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> [<i>Handing it to</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.] Very good!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Returning it to</i> <span class='sc'>Raoul</span>.] Quite proper—and +to the point. [<span class='sc'>Raoul</span> <i>rings for</i> <span class='sc'>Bertine</span>, <i>who enters, +left</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> M. Bertine, kindly let us have three copies +of this agreement at once. [<span class='sc'>Bertine</span> <i>takes the paper, +glances at its contents and utters an involuntary cry</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Severely.</i>] Have you forgotten yourself?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> [<i>Confused.</i>] I—I beg your pardon, gentlemen. +[<i>He glances from one to another, looks at</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>as +at an apparition and goes out awkwardly</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Sympathetically.</i>] Poor fellow! How hard +he takes it! Gentlemen, I confess that I looked for a +possible word of sentiment from you—a desire to remain +identified with the great business that your father had +established and had developed to its present importance. I +was even prepared to bid higher in case my first offer was +not accepted—[<i>The brothers look at him in mingled anger +and covetousness.</i>] but the sum seems to have satisfied your +cupidity. However, I have an appeal to make. I do not +wish to undertake the administration of this great industry—I +know nothing about it. Do you care to remain here +in your present executive capacity? I know we can agree +upon terms.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> Events have crowded each other so quickly +that neither of us has any plans for the future. We shall +be willing to stay—for a time at least, eh, Frédéric?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> Assuredly. I, for one, am interested to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>know how M. D’Or’s experiment is going to work out. +Such audacity affords an enlightening spectacle to the business +man of normal training.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Thank you, gentlemen, I shall appreciate your +co-operation. Such a business requires a certain amount +of personal shrewdness and finesse with which you are evidently +well equipped. [<span class='sc'>Bertine</span> <i>enters with the papers, +hands them to</i> <span class='sc'>Raoul</span> <i>and goes off, left</i>. <span class='sc'>Raoul</span> <i>signs +each copy, hands them to</i> <span class='sc'>Frédéric</span>, <i>the latter signs and +passes them to</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Signing the last copy.</i>] There we are! [<i>Each +takes a copy.</i>] That settles the formal transfer—the details +can go over till to-morrow. Is there anything further, +gentlemen?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>Somewhat excited, puts his hand to his brow.</i>] +I—I do not feel altogether well. The excitement of the +past hour is playing havoc with my brain! I had better +go home—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Frédéric.</span> My dear Raoul—you are not ill, I hope?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> You had better take me home. [<i>They get +their hats and gloves.</i>] M. D’Or, I wonder whether you +are not a demon—or an apparition of some evil dream!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Have no fear, M. Lehmann. You will find +my draft on the Blausteins a very reliable piece of paper—in +exchange for which I am to receive [<i>Throwing out his +arms.</i>] all this!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Raoul.</span> [<i>In agony.</i>] Ah! this is terrible! [<i>He goes +out, rear right, followed by</i> <span class='sc'>Frédéric</span>. <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>looks after +them with a laugh, jingles the gold in his pocket and rings +for</i> <span class='sc'>Bertine</span> <i>who enters, left. As it is growing dark</i>, +<span class='sc'>Bertine</span> <i>turns on the electric lamp on the table</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> M. Bertine, at what time does work cease?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> [<i>Consults his watch.</i>] In twenty minutes, +monsieur.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Will you kindly ask Mlle. Courteaux to come +to the office before she leaves? You may tell her to come +at once.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> Very well, monsieur. [<i>He goes off, rear +left.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>takes the agreement from his pocket and +laughs over it. He looks over other papers on the desk +with deprecatory gestures. For a few moments he gazes +at the portrait of Lehmann senior.</i> <span class='sc'>Adrienne</span> <i>enters, +rear left, followed by</i> <span class='sc'>Bertine</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Bertine.</span> Anything further, monsieur?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Not at present. [<i>Exit</i> <span class='sc'>Bertine</span>, <i>left</i>. <span class='sc'>Adrienne</span> +<i>stands looking steadily at</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.] Mlle. Courteaux, you +doubtless wonder why I sent for you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> [<i>Simply.</i>] No, I am not wondering.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> But you surely cannot know? You see, I—that +is, I was so much distressed when I heard of your +sick mother that I desire to learn if I can do anything for +her—perhaps a better doctor, or a trip to the mountains. +I am much interested in her welfare.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> [<i>Coolly.</i>] M. D’Or, it is impossible for +me to believe that you are at all concerned about my +mother.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You might at least credit me with good intentions +towards her. There was another reason for my +summoning you. When I announced the increase in +wages to the delegation, the others were profuse in their +thanks. You said nothing—you burst into tears.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> The rest believed you meant well by them.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> And you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> [<i>After a pause.</i>] I knew better.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With a look of admiration.</i>] You are entirely +too bright a girl to pass your best years in a factory. This +morning I recognized your beauty and your charm of +manner—now I learn that you are clever as well.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> What next, M. D’Or?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> How did the shops receive the news of the +increase?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> The workers went almost wild with joy.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> And you alone find a sinister motive in what +I did?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> Am I wrong?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With apparent wounded dignity.</i>] You are +doing me a great injustice—I want you to regard me as a +friend. I shall be perfectly frank with you. When I +arrived here I had no intention of playing the philanthropist +as I did a few moments ago. I would have supported +the Lehmanns and there would have been no increase—not +a franc for anyone—if I had not seen you at work.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> All this would be very complimentary, +monsieur, if I could ignore the rest of your frankness.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> When I urged the increase in wages it was to +please you—you alone. I did not care a whit about the +others—and the Lehmanns had to dance as I fiddled!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> That was evident. I felt very sorry for +them.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Then you don’t think better of me for what I +have done?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> How can you expect any one who reads +your motives to think well of you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Of course, the increase was only a trifle for +you after all! But suppose you could get away from the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>lace-machine altogether, could live well, dress well and +enjoy life in a way worthy of your beauty—would that +make any difference?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> M. D’Or, why do you find it necessary to +insult me?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Perhaps you care for that fellow Albert?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> [<i>Quietly.</i>] No.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Is there any one else?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> No.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>More eagerly.</i>] I wouldn’t use that word +‘insult’ if I were you. I am offering to take you out of +a life of drudgery into one of comfort and affluence, to +put the luxuries of the world at your disposal, to give you +the one talisman to the real joy of living.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> And that is—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Drawing out a handful of gold coin and talking +hysterically.</i>] Gold! Gold! Unlimited gold! The +faithful slave that brings me whatever I desire. The +power that sent the Lehmanns slinking out of this room +a few minutes ago like a pair of whipped curs! The +power that has placed the entire establishment of Lehmann +Frères in my hands. I own it all—all, Adrienne!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> And you are the man who is now being +proclaimed throughout the town as the champion of the +poor man, the friend of the oppressed woman—you, who +seek to control only that you may corrupt!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Nettled.</i>] How dare you speak thus to me? +You forget that I am your employer!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Adrienne.</span> That you are not. You have made it +impossible for me to earn my living here. [<i>She moves +toward the door, rear left.</i>] Even if you do own Lehmann +<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>Frères, you might at least spare to your workers their own +souls. You call gold your faithful slave; be careful that +your slave does not master you in the end! [<i>She passes +out quickly.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>stares after her and throws the coins +on the table. He laughs nervously as he looks about, +especially at the portrait of Lehmann senior. He picks +up the petition, pulls out the agreement, and after some +moments of indecision goes to the telephone.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Looks up the number in the telephone book.</i>] +7—1—4 please.... Hello.... Yes.... Is that the +home of M. Raoul Lehmann?... M. Lehmann himself? +This is M. D’Or, at the office.... Yes.... I have +changed my mind about purchasing your interest and your +brother’s.... Yes, I prefer to restore the plant into your +hands.... Yes, a majority of the stock as well as a bonus +for cancelling the deal.... I know you won’t lose control +of it again.... Yes.... I’m sorry I treated you +and your brother so roughly to-day.... Why am I giving +it up? Well, I’ve already had enough of it. Besides, +your father’s portrait makes me nervous. I wouldn’t +care to take it down—and I don’t dare to look at it.... +What’s that?... You accept? Good!... Will you +inform your brother?... Very well, in the morning at +ten! Are you feeling better?... I am glad to hear it.... +Good-by. [<i>He goes over to the table and slowly +picks up the coins.</i>] To-day you played me a very shabby +trick! [<i>He pockets the gold, puts on his hat, takes his +cane and is about to leave when he again notices the portrait. +He goes directly to it, takes off his hat with a +bow and addresses the picture.</i>] M. Lehmann, I have the +honor to bid you farewell! [<i>With a laugh he goes out at +the rear right entrance as the curtain falls.</i>]</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span> + <h2 class='c009'>SCENE II</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>[<i>The music salon of the Chateau D’Or. A handsome +room, most luxuriously furnished in white and gold. The +grand piano at the left is also finished in white and gold. +The central entrance leads to a wide corridor which runs +parallel with the room. The furniture and hangings are +over-ornate, showing plainly the triumph of wealth over +good taste in their selection. The guests of</i> <span class='sc'>M. D’Or</span> <i>are +seated about the room in fashionable morning toilettes. +On a sofa right are seated</i> <span class='sc'>Mme. Cyprienne Dacier</span> <i>and</i> +<span class='sc'>Mme. Lucette Clary</span>. <i>Before the curtain rises, the +Prelude in C sharp minor by Sergei Rachmaninoff is played +at the piano. As it concludes, the curtain rises and</i> <span class='sc'>Henri +Vaux</span> <i>is seen standing at the piano, bowing to the applause +of the assembled guests. (If practicable, the curtain might +rise before</i> <span class='sc'>Vaux</span> <i>has completed his solo.) As the scene +begins, the anonymous guests chat in groups.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lucette.</span> Bravo, M. Vaux! You played that prelude +beautifully.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> Thank you, Mme. Clary. It is a favorite of +mine, but perhaps a bit too depressing for such a pleasant +occasion as this.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lucette.</span> Not at all. We must remember that there +is a serious side to life—don’t you think so, Cyprienne?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> Of course. We can’t have dance music +all the time.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> But life—at least, life as the artist usually +knows it—is apt to be sad enough; perhaps it is natural +<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>that he should prefer a melancholy theme for subjective +interpretation.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> Speaking of melancholy themes reminds +me that Adolphe Lemaire is to be here.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lucette.</span> Why do you call this M. Lemaire a melancholy +theme?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> Don’t you know him? He exhibited +that remarkable painting called ‘Death in Life’ in the +recent <i>Salon</i>.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lucette.</span> I did not get to Paris this spring.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> You surely saw a reproduction of the +picture—it was copied in all the illustrated papers—a +young girl wandering through a sun-lit grove and intercepted +by a shrouded figure of Death.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lucette.</span> Oh! I recall it! I shall be delighted to +meet the artist.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> M. D’Or usually brings together the most +interesting people at his musicales. I believe the poet +Moreau is also expected. You know him, Mme. Clary? +A brilliant but eccentric genius! [<span class='sc'>Lucette</span> <i>shakes her +head</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> You have surely heard of Jean Moreau. +He writes those stinging verses against the government. +M. Dacier says that the Opposition would be helpless without +him. Of course, he pretends that his satires refer to +the middle ages or to some other country, but every one +knows what he means!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lucette.</span> Have you brought your daughter along, M. +Vaux?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> Yes; she was in the corridor a few moments ago.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lucette.</span> She is a most charming girl—so modest, so +<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>refined, and so very reticent! She seems almost afraid to +express an opinion of her own.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> Is there any wonder? The sort of opinions +that society likes to hear are not the sort that a young girl +can express with any self-respect.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> Oh! what a cynical remark! Could anything +be more attractive than the sincere thoughts of a +sweet girl who has not yet lost her illusions, who is still +a stranger to the bitter realities of life? [<i>She sighs.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lucette.</span> My dear Cyprienne! Do not seem so vividly +reminiscent! It makes me feel like an old woman to hear +you talk in that strain. It isn’t ages since we felt that +way ourselves.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> It isn’t ages, Lucette, in the number of +years, but I feel that I have lived ages since then.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> So you regret those days?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> They were sweet; but life has been so +varied since—I have enjoyed so much—that I cannot say +that I regret the passing of impossible ideals. We must +all awaken from the vain dreams of youth!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> I would have Hélène dream while the mystic +charm still pervades her soul; I would not have her +crushed to earth by the revelation of the deep-seated miseries +of existence. I would foster her love for art, her +devotion to music—in short, her taste for such ideals as +are cherished by our genial and accomplished host, M. +D’Or. [<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>, <i>at the centre, in a frock coat, gold +waistcoat, wearing a conspicuous scarfpin and rings</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> My good friends! You have just enjoyed a +treat! I heard the Rachmaninoff prelude from the corridor, +M. Vaux. Your interpretation is masterful; it is +<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>the grip of despair itself tugging at the heartstrings of +humanity. We are all indebted to you and pay homage +to your art. I am having some light refreshment served +in the corridor. Won’t you kindly step that way? M. +Vaux, may I entrust Mme. Clary to you? [<span class='sc'>Vaux</span> <i>leads +with</i> <span class='sc'>Lucette</span>, <i>the rest follow</i>. <span class='sc'>Cyprienne</span> <i>takes</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or’s</span> +<i>arm. When the others are out, he stops short.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> We need not hurry after the others, Mme. +Dacier. I have not had a chance to chat with you this +morning; you will not deny me the pleasure of a few +words. I do not see your husband among the guests.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> He is very busy at the bank just now. +He finds it impossible to get away—even for such a +splendid affair as you are giving us to-day.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> It is right that M. Dacier should regard his +business as his first consideration. He is becoming one +of our best known bankers.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> Ah! you are trying to flatter me. My +husband is like many others who are engaged in the money +game—a good enough fellow in the ranks, but not likely +to become a leader. He is somewhat envious of you!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> <i>He</i> envious of me?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> Yes—your close association with the house +of Blaustein. He has sought for years to acquire the +good will of that firm, but evidently his talents and resources +are not sufficient to command their attention. I +also am envious, M. D’Or.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Surely not.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> I am envious of your future wife. Think +of the unlimited wealth you will place at her disposal—the +unfailing resource of gold.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Sentimentally.</i>] I shall never marry.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> And why not?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Because the one charming woman whom I +know is already married. [<span class='sc'>Cyprienne</span> <i>affects indifference</i>.] +Her name is—Cyprienne! [<i>He takes her hand.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> [<i>Starts, but does not withdraw her hand.</i>] +Hush, M. D’Or—you should not say such things! You +should not call me Cyprienne. M. Dacier would not like it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Do you think there is the remotest possibility +of my saying it in his hearing, Cyprienne?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> [<i>Archly.</i>] You are an irresistible man. +How many hearts have you broken?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> None, I assure you. My own heart is more +likely to be broken, unless—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> [<i>Coming closer.</i>] M. D’Or, you might +say a favorable word or two about Dacier to the Blausteins—you +have such great influence!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Eagerly.</i>] I shall be delighted to do so, +Cyprienne. We must talk it over some time. When can +I see you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> You are always welcome at our chateau.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> But I would see you alone!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> [<i>With feigned surprise.</i>] Alone?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Surely, our plan is to arrange a surprise for M. +Dacier. At what hour does he reach home?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> At four or later.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Then I may call some afternoon—say at two? +[<span class='sc'>Cyprienne</span> <i>starts</i>.] We can talk things over quite by +ourselves. And then—[<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Baptiste</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Baptiste.</span> [<i>Announcing.</i>] M. Moreau! [<span class='sc'>Baptiste</span> +<i>retires</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Cyprienne</span>.] Confound the poet! I’d +rather chat with you. [<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Moreau</span>.] Welcome, my +dear M. Moreau! I’m delighted to see you.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> Pardon my lateness, M. D’Or. I have +been attending a conclave of the Opposition.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Still denouncing the government, eh? I hope +you will find it more agreeable here. Mme. Dacier, may +I present M. Moreau?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyprienne.</span> [<i>Extending her hand.</i>] M. Moreau is +an old friends of ours. [<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Baptiste</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Baptiste.</span> [<i>Announcing.</i>] M. Lemaire! [<i>He retires.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> Ah! so Lemaire is also late. Evidently we +poets and artists are an unreliable class. [<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Lemaire</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> My best greetings, my dear Lemaire. [<span class='sc'>Lemaire</span> +<i>greets</i> <span class='sc'>Cyprienne</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Moreau</span>.] We feared you were +going to disappoint us this time—and every one is anxious +to learn what work you have undertaken since your successful +painting ‘Death in Life.’</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> [<i>Staring vacantly and nervously.</i>] I’ve done +very little lately. Heaven knows, I should be working, +but that picture seems to have exhausted every vestige of +inspiration in my being. I find it impossible to pull myself +together.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> I know the sensation—a great vital utterance +leaves the inventive power paralyzed and one gropes +about in vain for support.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Gentlemen, if you will pardon me, I shall +escort Mme. Dacier to the corridor for some refreshment. +Pray make yourselves at home; I shall rejoin you shortly. +[<i>Exeunt</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Cyprienne</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> [<i>Looking about.</i>] What a palace! What +<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>wonderful appointments! Is it conceivable that the pen +or the brush could ever earn such luxury for either of us? +D’Or’s supply of gold seems inexhaustible—and he spends +with a knowing hand.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> A pleasant fellow, our host! My only +regret is that he sympathizes with the scoundrels who constitute +the present ministry. If I could only get him to +support the Opposition, we should have the Premier’s +resignation within a week!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> Try him, Moreau! It’s worth working +for! I believe that the mere mention of D’Or’s name as +an adherent of our party would overturn the authority of +the Premier. Try to have a quiet talk with him before +you go—and let me know how you succeed.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> I shall do it; with D’Or on our side the +cause is as good as won! And then, Lemaire, a brighter +day shall dawn for our country. We shall once more +lead the way to higher and nobler achievement. [<i>Enter</i> +<span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You see, my friends, I have not kept you waiting +long. Perhaps you would care to partake of some +refreshment?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> No, thank you. Like most poets, I think +most clearly on an empty stomach.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> With many poets compulsion and not choice +develops that opinion. And you, M. Lemaire?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> [<i>With a significant look at</i> <span class='sc'>Moreau</span>.] I +think I shall cater a bit to the inner man. I shall rejoin +you later. <i>Au revoir!</i> [<i>Exit</i> <span class='sc'>Lemaire</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Well, my dear Moreau, on what are you working +now? I hope you are not as destitute of plans as our +good friend Lemaire?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> No; I am writing a new poem which I +hope to finish shortly.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> May I enquire the nature of your subject?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> Certainly. I am seeking to glorify the future +of our country and to blaze the way toward the realization +of its noblest ideals. [<i>Slowly.</i>] Of course, such a +dream is impossible under existing conditions.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You mean the present ministry?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> Yes. They are a group of detestable politicians +who make all great questions of state subservient to +their own schemes for personal power and profit.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I think you are a little unfair to the Premier +and his associates. You must not forget that every party +when out of office rails against those in control.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> But the Opposition stands upon a firm +foundation of integrity and high moral purpose.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Mere vaporing, my dear Moreau. The minority +is always respectable. It’s their only chance to regain +the ascendancy. If your Opposition should triumph +they would soon be drunk with power and the present +party could successfully parade its manifold virtues before +the public.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> So you really believe that in the long run +there can be no improvement in government?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yes, if you choose to put it thus; and my +advice to you is that you join the party in power. You +have too much talent to squander your life in the service +of a hopeless Opposition.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> Hopeless? I thought that possibly you might +be induced to join our cause—to become the patron of a +new and better order of things.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Apparently ignoring the remark.</i>] Of course, +the ministry has antagonized the visionaries—idealists like +yourself, who dream of Utopian governments, but who +have little or no experience in practical affairs.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> An instinctive sense of right and wrong is +the best equipment for a statesman.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> There speaks the poet! Now, may I tell you +in confidence what really does constitute the best equipment +for a statesman?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> [<i>Curiously.</i>] What is it?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Deliberately.</i>] Knowledge of the fact that +his party has the approval of the Blausteins!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> [<i>Astounded.</i>] The approval of a banking-house!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> The approval of the greatest power in the +world—unlimited gold.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> It seems hardly credible! The utter corruption +of the existing state of affairs is beyond my comprehension.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> M. Moreau, let us talk sensibly about these +things. I like your poetry very much; I admire everything +about you except your political sentiments. Why +do you not put your fine talent to better use?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> What better use is there than devotion to +the popular welfare?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Nonsense. The people for whom you write +cannot appreciate the subtlety of your thought nor the +nobility of your inspired poetic nights. They place a +scant value upon your efforts. The present government +honors its friends more highly. A poem in praise of the +ministry would bring you greater material reward and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>more renown than ten years of labor for the ungrateful +Opposition.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> M. D’Or, I am devoted to our cause; I +would not write a poem in commendation of the present +ministry for fifty thousand francs.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Alert.</i>] You would not?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> No. It would be treason to the people.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> How long would you labor for the popular +cause before you earned fifty thousand francs with your +pen?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> Five years at least.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> And you are unwilling to purchase a release +from five years of drudgery by a single effort because of a +conscientious scruple? You are indeed a patriot.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> I wish merely to be true to myself.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Slowly.</i>] M. Moreau, what would you do if +some one were to offer you—say one hundred thousand +francs for a poem over your signature addressed to the +Premier and commending the present government?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> [<i>Aghast.</i>] One hundred thousand francs! +The question is ridiculous. You are trying to entrap me.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> The question is not ridiculous. I offer you +that sum!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> Are you serious?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I shall not mince words. The government +seeks the support of its most intelligent and most gifted +people. You are one of these. The government would +not, however, pay you such an amount as I have mentioned; +that sum represents my personal gratification at +the prospect of numbering M. Moreau among the champions +of the ministry.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> You are bribing me!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I am not. I am telling you that there is fame +and substantial reward for the adherents of the government; +there is futile effort and wasted opportunity for the +Opposition. You are a sane man; which do you choose?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> But to write such a poem is a manifest +renunciation of my high principles of conduct.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> To write such a poem is a declaration to the +world that you have become a conservative. Are you +familiar with that word ‘conservative’? It is a word of +excellent savor and of good repute. A man who betrays +a cause is justly styled a renegade or a traitor; but a man +who has held visionary views concerning government or +society, and who as a result of maturer deliberation rejects +such fallacies and becomes an adherent of the existing +social order may properly be styled a conservative. That’s +the worst they can say about you—and the reward is the +price of ten years’ hard labor with the pen.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> [<i>Bewildered.</i>] One hundred thousand francs! +I can see it in every journal in Paris! ‘M. Moreau joins +the conservatives!’ One hundred thousand francs!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Jestingly.</i>] You will note that there is nothing +conservative in the sum I am offering you. I should +call it liberal—decidedly liberal!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> [<i>Brokenly.</i>] After all, perhaps you’re right. +Lemaire will think I’m a cur—but I accept your offer. I +may live to regret this step, but I cannot resist you. I +shall write your poem and I shall mean every word that +I say. Henceforth I am one of your party. There is no +future for me elsewhere. I want you to understand that +I am completely within your ranks. I will not be a hireling, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>to puff the Premier in a single insincere poem. You +have not bought a poem, M. D’Or—you have bought me, +body and soul. Do you understand?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Quietly.</i>] Yes. It was you I was bidding for.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Moreau.</span> [<i>More wildly.</i>] It’s a serious matter, this +tearing one’s self out by the roots. I must have time for +reflection. Pardon me, M. D’Or, it is growing oppressive +here—I must have fresh air. I cannot meet Lemaire +just now. You shall have your poem—a poem from the +depths of my heart. It’s fresh air I need—fresh air! +[<i>He staggers out with a groan.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>looks after him +and smiles strangely. He draws a handful of gold coins +from his pocket and is about to jingle them when</i> <span class='sc'>Lemaire</span> +<i>enters</i>. <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>replaces the coins quickly</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> You are alone! I expected to find M. +Moreau with you.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Coolly.</i>] He left me only a moment ago. +Have you partaken of the luncheon?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> Yes, and chatted with some of your delightful +guests. I am grateful to find so many recognized +Liberals among them. Are you being converted?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> By no means—but I like to know intimately +all points of view. It’s part of one’s education, after all. +I try to make these gatherings as varied as possible and to +give free rein to the expression of opinion. Did you hear +nothing that might arouse renewed inspiration for another +great painting?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> [<i>Gloomily.</i>] I shall probably grope long +in the dark before I find another subject as striking as +‘Death in Life’!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Surely, there are many themes available?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> Few that I should care to depict. I shall +paint nothing ignoble, nothing degrading. If my brush +is not destined to uplift and to glorify mankind, I shall +cast it aside.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> A noble ideal, indeed; but ideals are evanescent +in this corrupt old world of ours.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> Are they not about all that is worth while?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Rather too unsubstantial, I should say. After +all, an artist must labor for his bread and butter. Of +course, he may be so absorbed in his ideals that he ignores +the gross commercial value of his inspiration and its +product. I am told you sold your ‘Death in Life’ for a +trifle—yet it is your finest picture.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> I have no regrets. The ‘Death in Life’ +was sold to a collector while it still hung in my studio. +He offered two thousand francs—I needed the money and +accepted. Had I anticipated the success of the picture in +the <i>Salon</i>, I might have asked more.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> That picture would have been cheap at ten +thousand francs. Perhaps you do not know that I offered +your lucky purchaser twice that sum—and it was refused!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> Twenty thousand francs for my painting!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yes, and it was refused. [<i>After a pause.</i>] I +have an idea, M. Lemaire—a good one. Will you paint +me a companion piece to ‘Death in Life’?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> A companion piece?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yes. You might call it ‘Life in Death’ by +way of contrast. I will give you thirty thousand francs +for such a painting, if you permit me to suggest the subject.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> You are willing to pay that price for a +painting of mine?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I have an object in view. I wish to make the +other painting ridiculous, so that the purchaser may be +willing to part with it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> I do not quite understand—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Why should you? It is but necessary that +you accept my offer.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> Of course I accept! It is many times +more than I have ever received for a painting, but you are +a rich man, a noble patron of the arts. Have you chosen +your subject?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You agree to be bound to it?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> Yes. It is to be called ‘Life in Death,’ I +understand, and is to represent—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Slowly.</i>] A dead rat lying in a foul gutter!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> [<i>With a cry.</i>] You are mad, M. D’Or!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Not at all. I think it’s a rather good subject +to accomplish my purpose. I would like you to represent +the rat as putrescent—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> [<i>Horrified.</i>] Stop, monsieur! You are insulting +me. I shall hear no more of that.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You gave your promise.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> Yes, to paint a picture—not to execute a +mad vagary of yours.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I don’t expect my realistic theme to conform +with your airy ideals, but think of the money I intend to +pay you for this painting.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> It won’t do. I must refuse.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Firmly.</i>] I intend to have that dead rat, M. +Lemaire!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> Then you must get some one else to paint it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I intend that you shall paint it. Perhaps I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>estimate realism too cheaply. I offer you forty thousand +francs for the rat!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> [<i>Almost in a whisper.</i>] Forty thousand +francs! To drag my reputation as an artist through the +slime?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> No. To initiate you into a new and profitable +school of art. Do you not realize that mankind has a +natural craving for the unclean and the depraved? Mine +will not be your last commission in the realistic style. +Remember that I am offering you twenty times as much +as you received for your ‘Death in Life.’ If any one +asks you why you painted ‘Life in Death,’ tell them it is +a parody on the original, executed at my order.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Lemaire.</span> [<i>Hesitating.</i>] If I did not need the money +so badly, I would—[<i>Suddenly.</i>] I’ll do it—I’ll do it for +you, M. D’Or. I cannot help myself. [<i>Beating his forehead.</i>] +A dead rat—Great Heavens!—a dead rat! [<i>He +rushes out wildly.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>is about to jingle the gold +as before, but feels that he cannot. He mops his brow +with his handkerchief and seems somewhat distracted. +Meanwhile</i> <span class='sc'>Hélène Vaux</span>, <i>a charming girl of eighteen, +dressed simply in white, enters quietly and gazes strangely +at</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>as if to fathom his thoughts</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Observing her.</i>] Mlle. Vaux! I did not +hear you come in.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>Timidly.</i>] Pardon me, M. D’Or. I am +looking for my father.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Surely you will not deny me the pleasure of +a few words with you. I am always glad to see you here +with your father, but you seem desirous of avoiding me.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>Nervously.</i>] No!—I—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> My sole object on such occasions as this is +to make my guests happy—to entertain them in a way +that will ever be a pleasant memory in the days to come; +yet you always seem apprehensive of harm—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> I cannot explain. It seems so strange that +you—[<i>She stops helplessly. They gaze fixedly at each +other.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>After a pause.</i>] Eleanor! [<i>He seems entranced.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> Why do you call me Eleanor? My name +is Hélène.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Embarrassed.</i>] Pardon me, Mlle. Vaux. I +once knew some one of that name. You resemble her—you +bring back fleeting memories of the past.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>Ill at ease.</i>] I do not understand—I must +find my father. [<i>She goes off hastily.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>sits down at +the right and rests his head on his hand as if dazed. He +does not notice</i> <span class='sc'>Baptiste</span> <i>who enters</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Baptiste.</span> M. D’Or! [<i>Louder.</i>] M. D’Or! [<i>A +pause.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Recovering himself.</i>] Baptiste!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Baptiste.</span> Mme. Dacier asked me to give you this +note.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Takes it.</i>] Very well. [<span class='sc'>Baptiste</span> <i>bows himself +out</i>. <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>opens the envelope and draws out a card +which he reads</i>.] ‘To-morrow at two—Cyprienne.’ [<i>He +quickly thrusts the card into his waistcoat pocket. His +demeanor instantly changes. He is completely aroused +from his trance.</i> <span class='sc'>Vaux</span> <i>enters at the centre</i>.] Ah! M. +Vaux, your daughter is looking for you!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> I have been neglecting her all morning. I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>thought she was talking to Mme. Clary a few moments +ago.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Your daughter is a most attractive girl—one +in a thousand. I congratulate you, M. Vaux, on the possession +of such a jewel.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Pleased.</i>] Yes, Hélène is a good girl—my +chief consolation since her mother was taken away. It is +my one regret that I cannot give her the musical training +that her talents merit.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Surely she has teachers?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> The best that my purse allows, but not the +best to be had. We musicians cannot hope to win great +wealth, yet I still have hopes that when my new symphonic +poem is brought out—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> A new composition! I am glad to hear of it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> It is almost completed. I have been laboring +on it for many years. It was begun in the first hours of +grief after the loss of Hélène’s mother. I have put my +very soul into that score!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Have you a program in mind?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> I shall call it ‘The Conqueror’—the record +of a storm-tossed soul that works its way through peril +and temptation to the triumphant heights of its ideal. +You see how much of a dreamer I am, but I love the idea +of the conquering soul—the personality that dominates +and directs.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Much interested.</i>] That is a very fascinating +idea—the personality that dominates! I am sure you +will win fame with ‘The Conqueror.’ Have you sought +to glorify a particular hero in your composition?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> No. It would be difficult to find a man who +<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>represents my ideal conqueror—who reaches the heights +unspotted with the stains of the battle.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> The more I think of your idea, the more it +pleases me. I always have sought to be such a conqueror +as you have in mind—a man of commanding position and +so equipped as to become a directing intelligence in the +affairs of the world. This may sound boastful, M. Vaux, +but I have a reason for speaking thus.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Bewildered.</i>] I do not understand—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You say that you have no particular hero in +mind to whom you are addressing your symphonic poem. +Would it be presumptuous on my part to say that I should +feel honored to have such a composition dedicated to me? +Let me explain more fully, M. Vaux—there need be no +reserve. I have abundance of the wealth that you in +common with others find so useful; you have a talent that +can immortalize the man to whom your compositions are +addressed. If you were to honor me with the dedication +of ‘The Conqueror’ I should see that every resource were +at the disposal of Mlle. Vaux for her thorough musical +training.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> For Hélène’s education?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> It would be a trifle for me, M. Vaux; to you +it would represent long hours of arduous toil. Thus each +of us can serve the other.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Anxious not to offend.</i>] I must confess that +I had a very different ideal of ‘The Conqueror’—pardon +my bluntness, but my hero typified spiritual achievement, +not the conquests of material wealth.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Of course—I understand. Spiritual achievement +has a pleasant sound and at one time in the world’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>history it probably meant something; but we are living in +a very different age. The real conquerors of to-day are +the men who act as stewards of the world’s great wealth. +I can buy you any man you may name, heart and soul. +It is merely a question of price—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Horrified.</i>] M. D’Or!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I know it sounds scandalous, but it is true—I +have demonstrated my power. There are no conquests in +this world like the conquests of material wealth.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Sadly.</i>] I have lived in this world many +more years than you, M. D’Or—I know the weakness of +humanity. There is much truth in what you say; but we +artists have not done our duty if we are content to depict +the world as we find it—if we do not point the way to +higher ideals—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Impatiently.</i>] A truce to your ideals! I +have heard more than enough this morning about ideals! +I have just made you a substantial and flattering offer; +you seem inclined to treat me in turn to a conventional +discussion on the nature of the artistic impulse. You are +a poor man, M. Vaux, though a talented one. You have +a daughter whose future welfare is largely concerned in +your answer to my offer. Are you foolish enough to +hesitate?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> I appreciate fully what your offer means, but +people will understand by my dedication that I desire to +uphold you as the type of ‘The Conqueror’—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> And why not?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> Because I had a very different conqueror in +mind—one whose career typified a conquest by spiritual +resource, by unfailing courage—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Suddenly but with deliberation.</i>] M. Vaux, +do you love your daughter Hélène? Are you mindful +of her future—of the years when you will no longer be +here to protect her?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Completely broken.</i>] I can struggle against +you no longer. You have triumphed! ‘The Conqueror’ +shall be dedicated to you!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Smoothly.</i>] I appreciate the honor, especially +since there was no haggling over terms. Rest assured, +M. Vaux, you will have no occasion to regret your trust +in my generosity.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Subdued.</i>] I have done it for my Hélène. [<i>He +sits on the sofa, right, and seems overcome with emotion.</i> +<span class='sc'>Hélène</span> <i>enters and takes a half kneeling position on the +mat at his feet. She places a small autograph album on +his lap.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> Father, I have been searching for you. Mme. +Clary wishes your autograph. Isn’t it an honor! Just +look at the famous names—artists, poets, musicians—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Takes a fountain pen from his pocket and +writes.</i>] Mme. Clary is very kind to ask your father to +enroll himself in this record of genius. [<i>Turning the +pages.</i>] What is this? M. D’Or, I find your name +here!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With a smile.</i>] Indeed! Does it appear out +of place among your brilliant assemblage of earth’s talented +sons?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> No, no! Do not misunderstand me! I thought +it was merely a collection of artists’ autographs. I am +pleased to see it includes at least one generous patron of +the arts. [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Hélène</span>.] Hélène, we are much indebted +<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>to M. D’Or. He will make it possible for me to give +you the best masters for your musical training.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>Rising.</i>] You could not accept such an +offer?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Embarrassed.</i>] I am dedicating ‘The Conqueror’ +to M. D’Or. It has pleased him to express his +generous intentions in return.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>Turning on</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>with unexpected energy</i>.] +‘The Conqueror’! [<i>Reproachfully.</i>] M. D’Or, you have +taken advantage of an old man.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Taken advantage! Those are hard words for +one who has your welfare at heart. I am enabling your +father to provide amply for you; indirectly I am helping +you to make the most of life, to win fame and position if +the talent abides within you. This you call taking advantage +of your father!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> M. D’Or, we are here as your guests. I +cannot speak frankly.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> If I have offended you, my roof shall not save +me from your reproaches. Speak as freely as you will and +tell me honestly why you despise my offer.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> Hélène, I beseech you, be careful how you +answer.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.] You see how thoroughly you +have subdued my poor father! He fears that my frankness +will forfeit the bounty you are disposed to heap upon +us. You wish me to speak freely?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> By all means.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> Very well. M. D’Or, I fear the intention +of your apparent kindness.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Why do you say that?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> A few moments ago I passed M. Moreau +in the corridor—Moreau, the brave champion of the people—and +I heard him say that he had changed his political +views, and now felt morally obliged to support the ministry!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Astonished.</i>] Moreau a conservative! Impossible!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> What have I to do with Moreau’s politics?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>Watching him closely.</i>] I cannot help +thinking that you had a hand in his sudden change of +faith.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Carelessly.</i>] Why should I deny it? You +would not believe me.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>Coming closer.</i>] M. D’Or, I would believe +you, if I heard you deny it! Do you deny it?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Without flinching, looking steadily at her.</i>] +Mlle. Vaux, I admire your courage; I marvel at your +penetration. I shall tell you the truth. I bought that +fellow Moreau for so much gold. He’s my man now and +he’ll take my orders when I give them. [<span class='sc'>Vaux</span> <i>groans</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> Father, do you hear what M. D’Or says? +[<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.] Is there nothing else on your conscience? +Are you aware that M. Lemaire is astonishing your guests +by incoherent ravings about dead rats and foul-smelling +gutters?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Steadily.</i>] It’s the subject for his next painting. +The fellow is executing it at my commission. I +chose the subject, and I pay him his price. [<span class='sc'>Vaux</span> <i>groans +again</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Vaux</span>.] Are you still inclined to dedicate +‘The Conqueror’ to M. D’Or?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> I have given my promise.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I shall release you from that promise if Mlle. +Vaux requests it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> I do not request it. After all, you are a +conqueror—you have triumphed over my unhappy father +just as you overcame those other frail souls and dragged +them to the earth.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I release your father from his promise. His +conqueror is a vain seeker after empty ideals. M. Vaux, +you may dedicate your symphonic flight to whom you will, +but I beg you to let me carry out at least my part of our +compact. [<span class='sc'>Vaux</span> <i>looks eagerly at</i> <span class='sc'>Hélène</span> <i>to reply</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> You have made that impossible for us, M. +D’Or. We cannot accept your generosity. [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Vaux</span>.] +We must not stay here any longer. Let us go home.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Can we not remain friends? Will you not +permit the resources of my wealth to prove my friendship?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>More softly.</i>] The best way to befriend +you, M. D’Or, is to prove to you the futility of your +wealth. Come, father.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> Good-bye, M. D’Or. [<i>He offers his hand.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Good-bye. [<i>He looks at</i> <span class='sc'>Hélène</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hélène.</span> [<i>After a pause extends her hand.</i>] Good-bye. +Are you not convinced?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Not yet—but you are very kind to me. [<i>He +kisses her hand.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Near the entrance, as if inspired.</i>] M. D’Or, +at last I know to whom I shall dedicate ‘The Conqueror.’</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> To whom?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Vaux.</span> [<i>Taking</i> <span class='sc'>Hélène’s</span> <i>hand</i>.] To my daughter +Hélène! [<i>They go out quickly.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Somewhat seriously, after a pause.</i>] Perhaps +<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>the old man is right—and perhaps he is not! [<i>Laughs +cynically and puts his hand as if by instinct to his waistcoat +pocket. He draws out</i> <span class='sc'>Cyprienne’s</span> <i>card and reads +it again</i>.] ‘To-morrow at two—Cyprienne.’ [<i>He kisses +the card as the curtain falls.</i>]</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span> + <h2 class='c009'>SCENE III</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>[<i>A private parlor in the Hotel Royal, Interlaken. The +room is handsomely furnished in dark red. There are +wide double doors in the centre with elaborate panels on +either side. On the left side there is an exit and a fireplace +in which a fire is burning. On the right there is +a window overlooking the street below. There is also an +exit further front. The furniture is appropriate for a +business meeting. A large central table is flanked by five +armchairs. There is a large armchair, left; also a small +table with an adjacent chair, right. As the curtain rises +one central door opens slowly and</i> <span class='sc'>Claire Lasalle</span> <i>peers +in nervously. Seeing no one, she enters and closes the +door softly behind her. She is dressed in black, with a +white collar, and carries a small leather writing pad. Her +demeanor is that of a person undertaking a delicate and +difficult mission. She goes to the door, right, and knocks +cautiously. Receiving no answer, she stands for a moment, +centre, in evident indecision, then advances to the +door, left, and knocks. The door is opened and</i> <span class='sc'>M. D’Or</span> +<i>steps in. He wears black satin knee-breeches and a fancy +house-jacket, heavily trimmed with gold braid.</i> <span class='sc'>Claire</span> +<i>hurriedly draws a card from her pad and hands it to</i> +<span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> M. D’Or?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yes. [<i>Reads the card.</i>] ‘Mlle. Claire Lasalle, +stenographer.’ [<i>He looks at her curiously, then at the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>card.</i>] Ah! the Blausteins! I must confess I hardly +expected them to send a lady! [<i>He bows.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> The Blausteins desire a verbatim report of +the meeting.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Are you familiar with such commissions as this?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] Yes. [<i>She looks about.</i>] You +must place me where I can write unmolested. It is not +necessary that I should see them. My hearing is acute. +[<i>She indicates the door, right.</i>] Is that room available?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> They are likely to insist on locked doors. +You might let me lock myself in. I can open the door +slightly after the conference has begun.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Very well. I shall turn the knob as a signal +to you that we are about to begin. Be very careful, +mademoiselle!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> Have no fear. Such experience is not new +to me.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Do you know them—Muirhead, Graefflingen, +and the rest?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> All but Andriev. He is a stranger to me. +You expect them at three? We have little time to spare.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You’re right. I shall make you comfortable +before they arrive. [<i>He crosses to the right.</i>] You will +pardon my appearance, Mlle. Lasalle—I was dressing for +this conference when you knocked.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> Certainly. Do not let me detain you. [<i>He +goes off, right, meanwhile she opens her leather pad and +gets her pencils ready. In a moment</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>returns</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I have placed a chair for you just beside the +door. [<i>After a pause.</i>] Really, I cannot quite grasp the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>idea that a woman should be entrusted with diplomatic +work of this character.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Facetiously.</i>] There are women and women.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> And, moreover, a few rarely endowed young +ladies who can keep secrets—important secrets of state. +Mademoiselle, I congratulate you! I hope the Blausteins +pay you adequately for such unusual services.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Simply.</i>] A thousand francs a session.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Will you permit me to double it this time?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Surprised, but on her guard.</i>] Why should +you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Ingenuously.</i>] Why shouldn’t I?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Sharply.</i>] M. D’Or, the thousand francs +that the Blausteins pay me are sufficiently tainted. I’ve +sunk about as low as I care to. Does that answer your +question?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Your cleverness assures me that the Blausteins +do not appreciate you at your real worth.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> Perhaps you’re right—but I had the privilege +of naming the degree and the price of my corruption, so +I have no cause for complaint. May I take my place in +the next room?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Certainly. [<i>He throws open the door, right, +for her.</i>] Make yourself comfortable, while I hurry into +the rest of my official dress. [<i>She passes out.</i>] But let +me first test our arrangement. [<i>He adjusts the door to a +very slight aperture.</i>] There! How is that? [<i>He +crosses to the left side and faces the door, right.</i>] Now, +mademoiselle, can you hear me distinctly at this distance?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Within.</i>] Yes, quite plainly.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Can you hear me when I say that my offer of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>that extra thousand francs will hold good after the conference +if you should see fit to take it? [<i>No answer. He +draws a little nearer.</i>] Perhaps you would hear better if +I said two thousand francs!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Throwing the door wide open and stepping +into the room.</i>] M. D’Or, we two—you and I—are +about to engage in a very contemptible business here. I +am being paid my price; I trust you are getting yours. +There should be some show of mutual respect even among +the corrupt. If you annoy me further, I may be tempted +to step out during your little conference to expose you for +the despicable creature that you are!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With a deprecatory gesture.</i>] Pray retire, +mademoiselle, to your post of vantage. I shall risk no +further verbal fusillade from that accomplished tongue of +yours.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>With a sneer.</i>] Where did the Blausteins +find you? They have the reputation of employing agents +who attend strictly to the business at hand. Let us see if +you can live up to that standard! [<i>She goes off, right, +and closes the door with a bang. The lock clicks audibly.</i> +<span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>shrugs his shoulders and goes off, left, shaking his +head. For a few moments the stage is empty. A knock +is heard at the centre door. It is repeated, then the door +opens and</i> <span class='sc'>Herr Loben</span> <i>steps in. He draws out his +watch.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> None here yet! I have the honor to be the +first. [<i>He crosses to the table, right, and puts down a +red portfolio. A moment later</i> <span class='sc'>Mr. Gilbert</span> <i>enters, +carrying a similar black portfolio</i>. <span class='sc'>Loben’s</span> <i>back is +turned</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Herr Loben, I believe?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> [<i>Turning.</i>] Ah—you are the secretary of +Sir Mortimer Muirhead—let me see—Mr.—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Mr. Gilbert.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> Yes! Good afternoon, Mr. Gilbert. I infer +that Sir Mortimer is to be at this mysterious conference?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>He places his portfolio on the centre table +and examines his papers.</i>] Yes. Is Baron Graefflingen +also to be here?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> I expect him every moment. [<i>He goes to the +window and looks out. Comes back and watches</i> <span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> +<i>with his papers, then, after a pause, speaks as if in +confidence</i>.] I say, Mr. Gilbert, do you know what it’s +all about?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>Carelessly.</i>] What? This meeting with +M. D’Or?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> Yes. Do you know him?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> I have seen him once or twice at the consulate. +He is enormously rich—one of the Blaustein coterie.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> Ah! so this is a Blaustein affair! I thought +as much. Marquis Pallot and Count Andriev are also +to be here. Quite an international gathering, eh?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>Absently, busy with his papers.</i>] Yes, +quite so. [<i>Suddenly.</i>] What’s that you’re saying? Pallot +and Andriev?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> I thought you took it rather mildly. Yes, +both of them. [<i>A pause.</i>] Do you suspect anything?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> What do you mean?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> Don’t you imagine that something is on foot +when such a distinguished array of diplomatic talent +gathers to receive orders from the Blausteins—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>Springing up.</i>] To receive orders—from +the Blausteins? Herr Loben, that is too absurd—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> [<i>With a shrug.</i>] How long have you been +Sir Mortimer’s secretary?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Six months.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> Still a youngster in diplomacy, eh? I have +been with Baron Graefflingen for—let me see—seven +years this winter.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Well?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> Only this, Mr. Gilbert. To-day is not the +first time that I hear the name of the Blausteins.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Possibly not! But you spoke of their giving +orders—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> I hate to disillusion you—there was a time +when I felt about things as you do now—those were the +days of my diplomatic innocence. [<i>Motor-horn is heard +outside.</i> <span class='sc'>Loben</span> <i>goes to the window</i>.] It’s your principal, +Sir Mortimer.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>Looks at his watch.</i>] He’s on time. It +lacks a minute or two of three.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> [<i>Coming forward.</i>] He evidently doesn’t +believe in keeping an emissary of the Blausteins waiting. +[<span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> <i>is annoyed</i>.] No offense, Mr. Gilbert—the +others won’t be long in following him. [<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Sir +Mortimer Muirhead</span> <i>at the centre</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> [<i>Nods to</i> <span class='sc'>Gilbert</span>, <i>then turns to</i> <span class='sc'>Loben</span>.] +Good afternoon, Herr Loben. Graefflingen’s coming?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> [<i>Politely.</i>] Yes, Sir Mortimer. He should +be here now.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Gilbert</span>.] You have sent off the +dispatches?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Yes; they went this morning. I have received +a wire confirming your reservations at Geneva for +next week.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> Very good. [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Loben</span>.] I believe +Baron Graefflingen is one of your delegates to the Geneva +Conference?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> Yes, he heads the delegation; our government +is sending six representatives. [<i>Motor-horn is heard</i>; +<span class='sc'>Loben</span> <i>goes to the window as before</i>.] Here comes the +Baron! [<i>He looks out.</i>] I’m wrong! It’s Marquis +Pallot and Count Andriev!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> Count Andriev!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> Yes, Sir Mortimer. They are both expected.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Gilbert</span>.] Have you seen nothing +of M. D’Or?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> I asked before I came up. The attendants +informed me that he had taken a suite here at the hotel. +[<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Pallot</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Andriev</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Pallot.</span> Good afternoon, Sir Mortimer. [<i>He nods +slightly to the others.</i>] You know Count Andriev?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> I have the honor. [<span class='sc'>Andriev</span> <i>bows</i>.] +My secretary, Mr. Gilbert—Herr Loben, secretary to +Baron Graefflingen.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Pallot.</span> Are you familiar with the circumstances that +bring us together to-day, Sir Mortimer?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> I know absolutely nothing except that +the note from Paris asks me to meet M. D’Or at three this +afternoon.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> My note read, ‘M. D’Or of the house of +Blaustein.’</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> Of course—mine also! [<i>Laughing.</i>] +<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>Otherwise what claim would the gentleman have upon +our attention? [<span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> <i>starts and avoids the grinning +glance of</i> <span class='sc'>Loben</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Pallot.</span> I must say that I resent such a peremptory +summons, coming from such a source; but there is no +alternative, I understand—we must simply comply with +the request. [<span class='sc'>Loben</span> <i>coughs, and watches</i> <span class='sc'>Gilbert’s</span> +<i>tense face</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> We may as well be prepared for the Blaustein +message—it undoubtedly concerns the Geneva Conference +of next week. [<i>Motor-horn is heard again</i>; +<span class='sc'>Loben</span> <i>goes to the window</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> It is the Baron!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> Graefflingen may be better informed than +the rest of us. Perhaps he may be able to throw some +light upon the very unusual procedure that brings us +together.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Pallot.</span> I doubt it. The Blausteins rarely take any +one into their confidence. They say nothing till they are +ready to talk, but then—[<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Graefflingen</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Graefflingen.</span> Good afternoon, gentlemen. Am I +late? [<i>He shakes hands with the diplomats and nods to</i> +<span class='sc'>Gilbert</span>.] M. D’Or has not yet appeared?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> No. We’ve been counting on you, Baron, +to tell us what it’s all about.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Graefflingen.</span> I cannot speak with any authority, +but from a dispatch received this morning I infer that the +Blausteins are not pleased with certain details of the international +agreement that will probably be adopted at +Geneva next week.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Pallot.</span> [<i>Looking at his watch.</i>] I do not know how +<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>soon M. D’Or is likely to join us—but I believe it would +be advisable among ourselves to oppose any material alteration +in the Geneva agreement.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> A united front might strengthen our +position very much, if we only knew what particular part +of the agreement the Blausteins are likely to assail.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> I propose, gentlemen, that when M. D’Or +arrives and explains the Blaustein views, we shall take +the cue from one of our own number. I suggest Sir +Mortimer as the leader of our united forces.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Pallot.</span> That seems to be most desirable. If we do +not stand together there is not the least likelihood of our +accomplishing much with M. D’Or.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Graefflingen.</span> I heartily concur in Count Andriev’s +proposal. We must keep the Blaustein emissary within +bounds.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> Gentlemen, I appreciate the honor that +you are showing me. At present we are groping in the +dark—we do not as yet know the intentions of M. D’Or.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> [<i>Warningly.</i>] Sh—h!! [<i>A pause.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> +<i>enters at the left, wearing an elaborate diplomatic uniform +of black satin, with a broad gold band across his bosom</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Good afternoon, gentlemen. [<i>Looking about.</i>] +One hardly needs introduction to such a distinguished +group. [<i>He shakes hands.</i>] Sir Mortimer, you are looking +well—Baron Graefflingen—Marquis Pallot—Count +Andriev. [<i>He stops at the secretaries.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> Our secretaries, Mr. Gilbert and Herr +Loben.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Shaking their hands.</i>] It gives me pleasure +to welcome the future lights of diplomacy.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span><span class='sc'>Graefflingen.</span> Perhaps you prefer that our secretaries +retire during our conference?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Not at all, Baron—not at all. It will do the +young men good to be present.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> Are we safe from possible eavesdroppers?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Remembering</i> <span class='sc'>Claire</span>.] Certainly, but we +can assure ourselves by locking the doors. [<i>He locks the +door, left, and the central doors.</i>] This door is always +kept locked, I believe. [<i>He goes to the door, right, and +very deliberately turns the knob several times. The others +present seem satisfied.</i>] Shall we be seated? [<i>They take +seats at the central table</i>, <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>at the right end, then</i> +<span class='sc'>Muirhead</span>, <span class='sc'>Pallot</span>, <span class='sc'>Andriev</span>, <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Graefflingen</span>. +<span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> <i>sits at the small table, right</i>; <span class='sc'>Loben</span> <i>in the armchair, +left</i>.] Of course, we shall take no minutes of our +deliberation—everything is informal and secret.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Graefflingen.</span> That is wise. This meeting must +be regarded as absolutely confidential among ourselves.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> I presume that it is agreed that no notes +shall be taken by any one present—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>The Others.</span> Certainly—assuredly. [<span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> <i>starts +from his seat and stares ahead of him</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> What is the matter, Mr. Gilbert?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Nothing, Sir Mortimer. Pardon me, I +thought I heard a slight creaking noise. I was mistaken! +[<i>He resumes his seat. Throughout the scene</i> <span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> +<i>pays close attention, Loben twiddles his thumbs and +yawns</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.] Have any others been invited, +or is the group now complete?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Quite complete, I assure you, Sir Mortimer. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>I dislike dealing with a large group of men. A few sensible +minds gathered around a table can best transact important +business. You have not been chosen at random, +gentlemen. The Blausteins desired the leading figure in +each delegation to be present to-day and I am happy to +say that the choice has fallen upon you.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Graefflingen.</span> You are very complimentary, M. +D’Or.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Not at all, my dear Baron. Men like yourself +who are leaders in shaping the destinies of their country +are entitled to recognition and honor—but to come +down to the immediate business of our meeting. You are +all delegates to the Geneva Conference which assembles +next week. Can you tell me, Sir Mortimer, what the +convention is expected to accomplish?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> From the program, of which you may +have seen a copy, it is evident that the principal purpose +is to consider questions concerning international arbitration +and to effect by general agreement a reduction of the +active military forces maintained by our respective governments.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> The first is a laudable object and I believe the +Blausteins are in hearty accord with the project. As for +the second—is such a reduction possible?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> Not only possible, but very desirable; +the military and naval budgets are the most serious problems +that concern our treasury ministers.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Graefflingen.</span> There is widespread dissatisfaction +throughout Europe at the enormous appropriation of funds +for military purposes. It is our thought that if the +Geneva Conference cannot effect total disarmament, it +<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>can at least bring about a material reduction in equipment +for war.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> It is proper that you should not misunderstand +the attitude of the Blausteins toward this great question. +They do not desire to foment strife among nations. As a +matter of fact, they would not permit a European war at +this time.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> Would not <i>permit</i> a war! Those are strong +words, M. D’Or.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Smoothly.</i>] None the less, the older diplomats +present will assure Count Andriev that my words are not +stronger than the case warrants. [<i>He looks about. There +is an awkward pause.</i>] I am sure the general silence is the +best proof of my assertion.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Pallot.</span> Pardon my remark, M. D’Or, but I cannot +understand why the Blausteins should deprecate warfare, +yet at the same time insist that the nations maintain the +highest military efficiency.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> It was to explain just such matters as you have +mentioned that our little meeting of this afternoon was +arranged. There are certain things that cannot be openly +discussed—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> One moment, M. D’Or. Are you certain +that you do not wish our secretaries to retire before +you go into details?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Assuredly not, Sir Mortimer. I particularly +desire the young men to remain. Diplomacy has many +valuable lessons to teach. Here they can learn some of +them.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>Rising.</i>] I should much prefer to retire if—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Nonsense! I want you to remain—I insist on +<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>it! [<span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> <i>resumes his seat</i>.] You are aware, gentlemen, +of the extent to which the Blausteins hold the bonds +of your respective governments, but there is another side +to the story. A government does not borrow money +except to spend it. Now, while it undoubtedly pays the +Blausteins to lend you their gold, it pays them still better +to become national contractors and purveyors, thus getting +back much of the actual money with an added profit in +the second transaction.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Pallot.</span> By which you mean—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Simply this, gentlemen. The Blausteins have +secured control of your most important gun factories, +your powder works, your saltpeter and sulphur deposits, +your mines. They control the firms that get most of the +contracts for the erection of fortifications and for furnishing +the munitions of war. In fact, they feed and clothe +your soldiers, they supply the horses—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> Can this be possible?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Why should it surprise you? Is it not the +most natural thing in the world? The vast Blaustein +millions cannot lie idle in the vaults. Is there any wonder +that with the accumulated surplus of three generations of +shrewd financiering, this insuperable power reaches out +into new fields to secure a firmer grasp upon the forces of +civilization?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> M. D’Or, may I ask you to state precisely +what the Blausteins desire of us, as far as the Geneva +Conference is concerned?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Assuredly, Sir Mortimer. The Blausteins are +aware that the Geneva Conference will be watched with +interest throughout the civilized world; the press will +report its proceedings in detail—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> [<i>Drily.</i>] But not these proceedings—here, +to-day!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> No, that would never do. We must not give +the rabble an opportunity to peer behind the scenes; it +might interfere with the public performance. The Geneva +Conference is presumably a gathering to foster universal +peace.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Graefflingen.</span> Presumably!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Certainly, my dear Baron! Can anyone predict +what such a gathering will accomplish until the +powers have sat in judgment upon it?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Pallot.</span> And we are here to get the verdict of the +<i>real</i> powers and to settle the fate of the Geneva Conference +a full week before it begins!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You are unnecessarily bitter, gentlemen. I am +surprised to find such strange ideals in a group of experienced +diplomats. This is no fairy-tale world in which +we are living—it is still the same old, wicked, scandalous +and hopeless Europe that it has always been.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> I am afraid, M. D’Or, that you are +being drawn away from the answer to my question—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Thank you, Sir Mortimer—these idealists always +make trouble. Now, to the point. What the Blausteins +particularly desire is that the Geneva Conference shall +not give the journalists a chance to become rampant. +Most of those vexatious pests are subsidized, but there are +always reckless fellows who have nothing to lose and who +are ready to court notoriety upon the slightest pretext. +The Blausteins therefore want a triumphant victory of +the peace party at Geneva.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>The Others.</span> [<i>Astounded.</i>] The peace party!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You misunderstand me. They want you to +talk peace, to sing peace, to shout peace till you are exhausted. +They want you to recommend measures advising +partial reduction of military equipment and eventual +disarmament in all countries, but at the same time they +want it distinctly understood by all that not one of those +recommendations is to be carried out at present. Just +give each journalistic dog his bone to gnaw, and when all +is over, things will go on as they are.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> [<i>Seriously.</i>] Then what you suggest, M. +D’Or, is that we should go through the farce of gathering +at Geneva next week as the ostensible delegates of our +respective governments, that we should adopt those splendid +measures that appeal to all of us, and then, to please the +Blausteins, we should nullify the work of the Conference +by permitting its recommendations to become a dead letter! +It is no trifle that you ask of us!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> [<i>Warmly.</i>] Trifle! He is asking us to +become the Blaustein puppets! Are we here to take his +orders?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Smoothly.</i>] No, no, Count Andriev—not +orders. I am not here to issue any orders, least of all to +such eminent diplomats as you. I am simply telling you +what the Blausteins desire; the rest I leave in your hands. +Perhaps some day you will better understand the significance +of the name of Blaustein! [<span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> <i>springs up +with a cry and with clenched fists stands quivering before</i> +<span class='sc'>D’Or</span>, <i>who has also risen</i>. <span class='sc'>Muirhead</span> <i>quickly steps between +them.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> Mr. Gilbert, you forget your place! You +owe M. D’Or an apology. [<i>The others have risen.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>Tensely.</i>] I—I could not control myself, +Sir Mortimer—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Suavely.</i>] Pray do not take this seriously, +Sir Mortimer. Your secretary owes me no apology. He +did a very natural thing—I respect him for it. [<span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> +<i>drops heavily into his chair holding his head in his hands</i>. +<span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>watches him curiously. The rest resume their +seats.</i> <span class='sc'>Loben</span> <i>twiddles his thumbs</i>.] Of course, it is very +unpleasant—this mission of mine. You can readily see +that the Blausteins must protect their interests. We are +showing you how you can satisfy the clamors of your +people and silence the criticism of your newspapers by +ostensibly complying with the popular demand. After +all, the execution of your recommendations rests with +others; you will do your duty at the conference.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> Do you imagine that the people will tolerate +this sort of trickery forever?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Why not? The government that cannot control +its masses by throwing them an occasional sop is a +confessed failure—it deserves to fall. Count Andriev, +your civic authorities have a most efficient ally in that +universal force known as human nature. When your +aristocrats engage against the rabble in that great game +of skill popularly known as maintaining the government +it is your own fault if you do not win; the dice are always +loaded in your favor.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> Suppose we should refuse to be parties to +your plan?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Looking around.</i>] If you personally are eager +to defy the Blausteins, you will probably find that the rest +of the gentlemen present are not similarly inclined. [<i>An +uneasy silence.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> [<i>Bitterly.</i>] Evidently, you are right! Heaven +help the nations that have to take orders from the Blausteins! +Is there anything further, M. D’Or?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Nothing except that I wish to express my thanks +to all of you for meeting me here this afternoon. I hope +that we part as friends?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Pallot.</span> Assuredly, M. D’Or. We must remember +that you are merely the representative of the Blausteins +and in no sense personally responsible for the policy which +they have adopted. It would be absurd to harbor any +personal resentment against you. [<i>Offers his hand.</i>] I +wish you good afternoon!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Andriev.</span> [<i>Likewise shakes hands.</i>] I have used hard +words here this afternoon—they were intended for the +Blausteins, not for M. D’Or. Good day! [<span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>unlocks +the central doors, and Pallot and Andriev go off +together</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Graefflingen</span>.] Well, Baron, are you +as kindly disposed as these others? [<i>They shake hands. +He turns to</i> <span class='sc'>Loben</span>.] I suppose you have learned a new +lesson in the science of diplomacy?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Loben.</span> [<i>Wearily.</i>] Bless you, no indeed! I have +been in diplomacy for seventeen years; I have become +hardened to such incidents as this. It’s getting a bit +monotonous. I wish there were some new forms of political +corruption—they might prove interesting!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I congratulate you, Baron, on your very blasé +secretary. Such a man must be a treasure in your profession.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Graefflingen.</span> Good afternoon, M. D’Or. [<i>To</i> +<span class='sc'>Muirhead</span>.] Sir Mortimer, do you remain at Interlaken?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> No, I leave for Lucerne this evening. I +shall spend a few days at the <i>Kaiserhof</i> before going to +Geneva.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Graefflingen.</span> I was about to ask you to dine with +me. I am sorry you are leaving so soon. Good afternoon! +[<span class='sc'>Loben</span> <i>has meanwhile shaken hands with</i> <span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> +<i>and clapped him on the shoulder as a sign of approval</i>. +<span class='sc'>Gilbert</span> <i>stands in dejection</i>. <span class='sc'>Graefflingen</span> <i>and</i> +<span class='sc'>Loben</span> <i>pass out together</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> In taking leave, M. D’Or, I still feel +that Mr. Gilbert owes you an explanation for his very +remarkable conduct. I am sorry the incident happened.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>After a pause.</i>] Perhaps you are right, Sir +Mortimer. Won’t you permit Mr. Gilbert to remain for +a few moments when you go? We can talk the matter +over between ourselves.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Muirhead.</span> Mr. Gilbert, you hear what M. D’Or +has said. You may rejoin me later at the hotel. Good +day. [<i>They shake hands and</i> <span class='sc'>Muirhead</span> <i>goes off</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Very pleasantly.</i>] Mr. Gilbert, Sir Mortimer +has made it easy for me to have a confidential chat with +you. I am indebted to him for it. I had no idea when +I entered this room that I should meet such an interesting +personality as yourself.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Sir Mortimer is right. I owe you an apology +and I make it freely. I should have known my place.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> That is not the point. I want to know why +you made that outcry?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> I would rather not answer that question.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I feel as if I have a right to insist upon an +answer, Mr. Gilbert.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Perhaps you have. May I give the explanation +in my own way?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> By all means! Let us sit down. [<i>They take +seats, centre.</i>] Do you smoke? [<i>He offers a cigar.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> No, thank you. [<span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>lights his own +cigar</i>.] M. D’Or, I sought the appointment as Sir Mortimer’s +secretary because I believed it would prove an opening +to a diplomatic career.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Quite right—a very good opening!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> At that time I regarded diplomacy as my +life-work. I dreamed of participating in the great affairs +of state, of helping in my own small way to mould the +history of our own day and generation. The diplomat +seemed to be so important a figure, so essentially a servant +of the state that I was dazzled at the thought of +serving my country in that way. And now—[<i>He pauses.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Now you think otherwise?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Until to-day I regarded Sir Mortimer Muirhead +as one of the most enviable of men. Now I pity +him—from the bottom of my heart. Kindly stop me if I +offend—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Go on. I want to hear all you have to say.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> I learned this afternoon how hopelessly a +man may be fettered in his efforts to serve his fellow men. +To an experienced man like yourself it must be apparent +how unfit I am for the profession I have chosen.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Why were you so distressed to-day?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Picture a group of distinguished diplomats, +representing the leading nations of Europe, gathered in +secret conclave to hear the commands of a coterie of money-barons, +and, what is worse, yielding to those commands in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>spite of their own convictions! It is enough to make +one’s blood boil!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You forget, Mr. Gilbert, that they are practical +men of affairs. They know the power of the money-barons, +as you choose to call them, and they act accordingly. +A modern nation cannot afford to entrust its +affairs to idealists and dreamers.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Apparently not; but what of the national +honor? Do these secret compromises never become public? +What can the reputable people of a great nation think +when its rulers stoop to curry favor with the rich and +powerful?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> My young friend, you have a distorted image +in your mind; I advise you to set it right. Who are your +reputable people who are to cavil at those who seek wealth +or the influence that wealth affords? How many of your +apparently reputable people are not themselves engaged in +the pursuit of wealth by every method, direct or devious, +that lies within their power? Look about you, Mr. Gilbert, +and examine your fellow man a little more closely. +Don’t place him on a pedestal. He’s a corrupt specimen +of creation when you get to know him thoroughly.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>Hotly.</i>] What makes him corrupt but the +fact that there are forces of evil abroad to tempt him—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] Like myself, for example?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Some men are not strong enough to resist +temptation. You know that, M. D’Or. The shame of +it is that men like you take advantage of it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Nonsense, Mr. Gilbert. We corrupt none of +them. If need be we ascertain the price of their corruption, +but there our responsibility ends. The work of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>world must be accomplished. We cannot have men pulling +in all directions at once. There must be some harmony +of action to achieve results. If any one impedes the +progress of a great plan, it is policy to buy him off; if he +refuses to yield he must be swept out of the way. Usually +he is too wise to resist—he takes his price and withdraws +gracefully. The world is waiting to be bought.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> There is one thing I cannot understand, M. +D’Or—why do you tell me these things?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Because I take an interest in you. I should +like to see you make something of your career. A few +moments ago there were four prominent diplomats in this +room who did me the honor to confer upon the important +question that you heard discussed, yet for this quartette +of notables I have infinitely less respect than I have for +you. I took real pleasure in your outburst of disapproval.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> But they all opposed you, particularly Count +Andriev.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yes, but they all yielded at last—that is the +fact that makes them contemptible in my eyes. Mr. Gilbert, +may I ask what salary Sir Mortimer pays you for +acting as his secretary?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Five hundred pounds.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> If I were to offer you a thousand pounds to +become my secretary, would you accept?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> No!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> If I were to make it five thousand pounds, +would you listen to the offer?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> No, M. D’Or!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> If I were to discover that the Blausteins needed +an eminently trustworthy agent and that you fulfilled the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>requirements exactly, would you consider a salary of ten +thousand pounds?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Never!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Puffing his cigar, coolly.</i>] I knew it! That’s +why you interest me—you are a human curiosity. A few, +years ago I was ready to declare there were no such men +in existence. Remember, I have not insulted you by +really making the offer that I put just now. I pride +myself that I read your character aright and knew the +offer would be rejected.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Are such offers ever made seriously?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Certainly, if the man is worth it. Such matters +are always subject to the dictates of reason.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> I now realize the source of your overwhelming power. +I have learned something from this interview—I +shall not give up diplomacy.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Will you remain Sir Mortimer’s secretary?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> Yes, for the present. If I am one of the +few of whom you speak so highly, my country needs me +and I intend to remain in her service.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] There speaks the patriot! Be +careful, my friend, to avoid tight places, so that you may +not have to yield to the tempter one of these days. [<i>They +rise.</i>] May I wish you success in your career? [<i>He extends +his hand.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>Painfully.</i>] M. D’Or, I don’t want to +insult you again—but—I’d rather not shake your hand.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With assumed indifference.</i>] Just as you +wish—it is better that we should understand each other +exactly. Perhaps I should feel offended, but I don’t—I’m +not going to quarrel with you. I wish you success +<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>just the same. You may be right, after all—you young +fellows have a great deal of enthusiasm. There ought to +be more like you.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>Eagerly.</i>] M. D’Or, there’s a real strain +of good in you—why don’t you give it a chance?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Uneasily.</i>] I may change my mind some day. +If I do, I shall remember you, Mr. Gilbert—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Gilbert.</span> [<i>Seizes</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or’s</span> <i>hand and looks squarely in +his eyes</i>.] I hope so, M. D’Or—I hope so! Good-bye! +[<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Places his cigar on the table and looks toward +the central door.</i>] I’d give my fortune for that man’s outlook +on life! [<span class='sc'>Claire</span> <i>enters silently at the right, holding +her notes in her hand. She looks curiously at</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> Well—there are some honorable people, after +all!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Turning quickly.</i>] What! I must confess I +had quite forgotten that you were in the next room. You +heard everything?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Drily.</i>] Yes—and profited by it, too!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You have a verbatim report?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> Everything; even your interesting little chat +with Mr. Gilbert.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> See here, mademoiselle—that has no place in +the report. Kindly let me have those sheets.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> Never fear, M. D’Or—the Blausteins will +never see any part of this report!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> What do you mean?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> I intend to destroy every line that I wrote in +that room. I heard what Mr. Gilbert said. I will no +longer be the servile spy of the Blausteins!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With a sneer.</i>] Ah! Virtue seems to be contagious.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> There are always immunes.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Your tongue has not lost its cunning, in spite +of your moral awakening. So you won’t let me have the +notes?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> Not unless you take them by force. [<i>With +determination.</i>] I warn you, I shall not give them up +tamely.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Calm yourself. You forget the Blaustein maxim, +‘Above all things, no public scandal.’ I shall not make +the least effort to obtain those notes without your consent.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> Thank you. May I go?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Earnestly.</i>] Mlle. Lasalle, I will give you +five thousand francs for those notes.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Frightened.</i>] Please let me pass!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Ten thousand francs—for the notes.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> How dare you! [<i>A pause.</i>] Remember Mr. +Gilbert!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With a start, then quietly.</i>] Mademoiselle, +will you give me those notes at your own price if I promise +to destroy them—now, here, before your eyes?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>After a pause.</i>] I shall give them to you on +one condition.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Name it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Slowly.</i>] That you don’t ask me to touch +any more Blaustein money. I’m trying to do a decent +thing this time.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>With admiration.</i>] I understand. You have +my promise. [<span class='sc'>Claire</span> <i>fixes her gaze on</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>, <i>and hands +over the sheets. He keeps his eyes on her as he tears the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>notes into tiny scraps which fall on the table. He gathers +up the scraps and throws them into the fire.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Earnestly.</i>] We two are not entirely hopeless.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Still gazing at her.</i>] Not after this!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> We are not likely to meet again. I am going +to some remote corner of the earth—to try to forget the +past. The Blausteins shall never hear of me again. Let +us make one good resolution before we part.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> What shall it be?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> Let us both try to remember Mr. Gilbert!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I shall never forget Mr. Gilbert—[<i>Extending +his hand.</i>] nor Mlle. Claire Lasalle, stenographer!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Claire.</span> [<i>Taking his hand.</i>] Good-bye, M. D’Or! +[<i>She hurries out at the centre.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>looks after her for +a moment, then snatches the gold band from across his +bosom and dashes it on the table with a gesture of disgust. +He drops into a chair as the curtain falls.</i>]</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span> + <h2 class='c009'>SCENE IV</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>[<i>A sombre, darkly furnished room in a Balkan palace. +There are wooden panels and heavy gold hangings; also +a window, left, a door, right, and large double doors, +centre. At the left there is a table on which is a lamp +with a dull gold shade. Nearby are an armchair, a footrest +and a smaller chair. At the right there is a small table +with two chairs. Against the walls are several quaint +high-backed chairs and a curious medieval stove. As the +curtain rises</i>, <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>is in the armchair asleep. He wears +a dark dressing gown with deep gold borders and embroidery. +He still has his gold rings. The window at +the left is open and from the outside come the plaintive +notes of a shepherd’s pipe. The light is that of early +evening.</i> <span class='sc'>Edith Packard</span>, <i>dressed as a nurse, enters at +the right. She feels</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or’s</span> <i>pulse and tiptoes noiselessly +about. She places fresh golden flowers in a vase on the +smaller table, then lights the lamp at the larger table and +turns the flame low. After tidying the room a bit, she +takes another look at</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>, <i>feels his forehead lightly and +goes off, right. The shepherd’s pipe is silenced. There +is a sudden flash of lightning at the open window and the +distant rumble of thunder.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>In his sleep.</i>] Not Death! Not Death! I’ve +bought off Death for a time! Not yet! [<i>He awakes +with a start.</i>] Miss Packard! I’ve been dreaming horribly +again! [<i>He looks about anxiously.</i>] Miss Packard! +Has Dr. Mirsky arrived? [<i>Listens for reply.</i>] They take +<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>my money, yet they’re not here when I need them most. +[<i>He experiences a convulsive spasm and is unable to articulate</i> +<span class='sc'>Miss Packard’s</span> <i>name, though he makes a painful +effort to do so. He rises heavily from his chair and staggers +to the bell rope near the door, right. He manages to +pull it and falls in a faint over the chair standing near. +Lightning and distant thunder.</i> <span class='sc'>Edith</span> <i>rushes in and rubs +his wrists. He revives and she succeeds in getting him to +the table, right.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Bewildered.</i>] Where am I? Yes—I remember—I +called—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> You were sleeping peacefully when I left the +room a moment ago!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Not peacefully! I never sleep peacefully.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Do you feel any better?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Worse—much worse! How long did I sleep?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Over three hours. It is past six o’clock.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Evening already! Another day gone! [<i>Lightning.</i> +<span class='sc'>Edith</span> <i>starts to close the window. It thunders as she +looks out.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Oh! M. D’Or, a terrible storm is approaching! +The whole valley is filled with black clouds! +[<i>Lightning.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Close that window quickly! I cannot bear +lightning. [<i>She closes it amid thunder.</i>] Another storm! +I shall lie awake all night! [<i>Groans.</i>] Hasn’t Dr. +Mirsky arrived?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> No, he has not come. Perhaps the storm will +prevent his getting here to-night.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I <i>must</i> see the doctor—he must come to-night! +He takes my money; he should be at my beck and call. I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>need him now—I may die before morning. Is there no +one at the palace whom you can send to the village? +[<i>Heavy thunder.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Cyril is downstairs.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> The gardener’s son? I’ll not send the boy on +such a night as this. Perhaps Mirsky will get here after +all.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> He should come.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I pay him well enough, eh? I pay you well, +Miss Packard? I pay everybody well. I may be feeble, +but I still have my gold. It serves me yet! [<i>Thunder.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Do you care for something to eat?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> No, I have no appetite. I am an unhappy +creature. Turn up the lamp, Miss Packard—it is too +gloomy. I can scarcely see. [<i>She turns up the lamp.</i> +<span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>notices the flowers</i>.] Why are those wilted flowers +on the table?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> They do seem wilted—yet they were quite +fresh when I brought them in a few minutes ago. [<i>Thunder.</i>] +Perhaps the storm—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Nonsense! A storm cannot affect cut flowers! +They must have been dying when you brought them in. +[<i>Raises their drooping heads.</i>] Dying! Dying—their golden +beauty waning—a few hours more and all will be over! +[<i>Groans.</i>] I must see Mirsky! I feel wretched to-night. +Look down the road, Miss Packard, and see if there are +any signs of the doctor’s carriage. He would not come +on foot to-night. [<span class='sc'>Edith</span> <i>opens the window. Lightning +and a wild blast of wind.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>covers his eyes and +groans</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> [<i>Peering out.</i>] It is too dark to see far—but +the road seems quite deserted. [<i>Thunder.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Quick! Close the window! [<span class='sc'>Edith</span> <i>does so</i>.] +Even Mirsky fails me when I need him most. He shall +hear from me to-morrow—[<i>A pause.</i>] if I am still alive. +Have you had your dinner?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> No, but there’s no hurry—I do not wish to +leave you alone.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Get your dinner by all means. You are young +and healthy—you can enjoy it. Send up Cyril to keep +me company; I like the boy.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Very well. Is there nothing else I can do +for you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>More softly.</i>] Nothing, Miss Packard. You +are very kind to me. Are you satisfied in this Balkan +wilderness? Am I paying you enough for coming to this +desolate region?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Don’t say such things. I am a nurse—it is +my duty to serve you. Besides, you have been very generous +to me.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Thank you. Run along now—and don’t forget +to send up Cyril. [<i>She goes off, centre.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>looks +nervously about him, holds his hand over his heart, then +draws himself slowly up and goes to the window to peer +out. Seeing nothing he opens it. A furious downpour +of rain is heard, then a flash of lightning half-blinds him. +He closes the window with a loud bang.</i>] No hope of +Mirsky to-night. Even my money won’t bring him out +on such a night as this. [<i>He walks slowly to the armchair.</i>] +If he does not come, I shall be dead before sunrise!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>Putting in his head, centre.</i>] May I come in, +M. D’Or?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Brightening.</i>] Cyril! By all means! Come +in, my boy! [<i>He resumes his seat.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Miss Packard said you wouldn’t be angry.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I am very glad to see you. What have you +been doing all day?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> I have been exploring along the other side of +the river. I left the palace this morning at five o’clock +and joined some boys in the village. We tramped for +several miles along the river, then crossed the bridge at +Arak and went into the woods.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> It must have been delightful. You started at +five o’clock?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Yes, it was still dark. I saw the sun rise +from the Hadderberg. By dinner time we were over ten +miles beyond Arak.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> How did you get home so quickly?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Oh! we saw the storm coming—at first it was +a little speck of black cloud floating far off in the sky beyond +the mountain range. We hurried through the woods +and reached home a half-hour ago.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You must have had a glorious tramp. Did +you do any hunting?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Oh no! The season has not opened yet—we +shall go hunting later on. M. D’Or, did you ever take +such trips when you were a boy? [<i>Rumbling thunder.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> No, I never had such sport. I didn’t live near +the mountains and the forests.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>Sits on the foot rest at</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or’s</span> <i>feet</i>.] How +do the boys in your country spend their time?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> The most sensible spend their time in learning +how to make money.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Do they need much money when they grow up?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Nearly all of them think they need more than +they have.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> What do they buy with their money?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Whatever they think they want. What would +you buy if you had twenty florins?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> A pair of hunting boots and a new knife. +[<i>He pulls out his knife.</i>] Not a cheap knife, like this +one—but one with six silver bands on the handle.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Why six bands?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Because my friend Boris has one with five +bands and his knife is the finest in the village.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Ah! I see! And what would you buy if you +had fifty florins?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Fifty florins! [<i>After a pause.</i>] I wouldn’t +buy anything. I’d save until I had a hundred.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Interested.</i>] And then—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Then I would buy a handsome rifle such as I +saw in a shop window in Buda-Pesth. Were you ever in +Buda-Pesth?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yes, Cyril. I’ve seen those fine shops. Now, +isn’t it pleasant to think that you can go into such a shop +with a pocket full of money and pick out anything you +want?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Yes—it’s like a fairy-tale.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Drily.</i>] Well, that’s why the boys in my +country learn how to make money!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>With enthusiasm.</i>] And when they have it, +they go to the shops and buy what they wanted?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> No; by that time they have usually lost interest +in what they wanted—and then they desire something +which they cannot buy.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Then it isn’t much fun after all?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Stroking</i> <span class='sc'>Cyril’s</span> <i>hair</i>.] No, it isn’t much fun. +You have something better than money, Cyril. You have +youth and health—be careful how you spend them. You +wouldn’t sell them at any price, would you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> How can one sell youth, M. D’Or?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> By doing foolish things and by wasting the +precious hours of early manhood—that is how one sells +youth. I want you to realize how very rich you are, +even if you haven’t enough money to buy that new rifle. +[<i>The noise of carriage wheels is heard.</i>] Do you hear a +carriage? Can it be Dr. Mirsky, after all?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>Opens the window.</i>] Yes, it is the doctor—and +another man with him in a long white robe—a strange-looking +man!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You see very well in the dark, Cyril!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> I have good eyes; father calls them forester’s +eyes.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Is it still raining?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>Puts out his hand.</i>] A little, but the worst +is over. The clouds are breaking.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I am glad of it; you may leave the window +open. [<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Mirsky</span> <i>at centre</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Good evening, M. D’Or! I’m a bit late +to-night on account of this cursed storm—I never experienced +such weather before. The road to the palace is +a veritable river! At every turn a fresh torrent bursts +over it. How do you feel?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Fairly well since Cyril has been keeping me +company, but I felt miserable before—I feared you would +not come.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Not come for such a patron as M. D’Or! +My dear sir, I would have come if it had been necessary +to swim to the palace!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] People don’t swim up hills, Dr. +Mirsky.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> No, and well-behaved boys don’t make impertinent +remarks to their elders.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Cyril tells me you had a companion in your +carriage.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Yes—the queerest fellow I’ve ever come +across. I picked him up on the road just beyond the village. +He had sought shelter under a tree but I saw he +would be drenched if he remained there long enough—to +say nothing of the danger from lightning. He’s a sort of +oriental sage—calls himself Ramanand. I expect to take +him back to the village when I leave and have a chat with +him to-night.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I am interested in your find! Can’t we have +him up here?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> I turned him over to Miss Packard—I +believe he is drying out at the kitchen fire. Cyril, run +along and fetch up the philosopher.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>Meekly.</i>] Very well, doctor. I hope you +will forgive me for my impertinence just now—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> [<i>Clapping his shoulder.</i>] Impertinence, my +boy? It was the truth. As you say, people do <i>not</i> swim +up hill. [<span class='sc'>Cyril</span> <i>laughs and runs off, centre</i>. <span class='sc'>Mirsky</span> +<i>turns to</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.] Well, how is my patient? [<i>Feels his +pulse.</i>] Still feverish and unsettled—appetite poor—all +out of sorts, eh?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Doctor, I feel like a man whose life is ebbing +away. I had a horrible seizure this evening. It’s all up +with me. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends all +my life. I have crowded more experience into my forty +years than properly belongs there—that’s all!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> My dear M. D’Or, you talk like a man +who is preparing for another world, yet you are paying +me handsomely to keep you here. One can hardly regard +such remarks as complimentary—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> True enough, doctor, but there’s no power of +resistance left in me. I’ve been fighting Death for some +time and now I have only one real weapon left—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> [<i>Surprised.</i>] One weapon?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yes, my money! Youth and health are gone, +and I have long since turned my back upon my few friends—but +my money is still my faithful slave. It has provided +me this airy retreat in the Balkans, it has brought me +such a devoted nurse as Miss Packard, such a skilful physician +as yourself—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Come, come—I’m not so sordid! A true +physician thinks first of the professional obligation.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> But a successful doctor does not give up a +lucrative practice in Buda-Pesth to bury himself in the +mountains with a solitary patient unless the latter pays +handsomely, eh?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> It is true that you are giving me many times +what I could earn by my practice, but why do you constantly +remind me of it?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I don’t want to offend you, doctor—but I like +to feel that my money is still helping me to keep Death at +bay. I have gone through life believing that wealth is +<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>power and I want to think so yet. Don’t you share that +belief?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Frankly, I do. I have even coined a new +beatitude—blessed is the rich man, since he can have what +he wants!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Gravely.</i>] Not always—I have found that +out. I want health, vigor, an interest in life.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Your money would obtain any of these if +you gave it a fair chance. You are sated, that is all—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> It is worse than that. I’m worn out—done +for!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> M. D’Or, you are absolutely wrong. I cannot +comprehend your passive yielding to this chronic invalidism. +You harm not only yourself, but me likewise—professionally, +I mean. I shall be quite frank with you. +My reputation is at stake. All Buda-Pesth knows that +I am treating the rich M. D’Or. If I restore you to +health, my fortune is assured! I shall no longer be the +promising Dr. Mirsky in his shabby carriage—I shall +become the famous Dr. Mirsky in his automobile. Do +you realize what it means to me?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> So you wish me to get well for <i>your</i> sake?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Certainly, if you have no reasons of your +own. I pretend to no philanthropy in the matter. You +are paying me lavishly, M. D’Or—give me a chance to +earn the money.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Shaking his head.</i>] You’ve taken a bad case, +doctor—I’m sorry for you. You’ll have your money and +the automobile in any event. Of course, you expect to +find greater happiness in becoming more prominent in your +profession?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Yes, both happiness and reputation. I look +upon it as a recompense for my early years of struggle.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You had to make your own way?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> My father was a poor village shoemaker; +my mother eked out his income by what she could earn at +washing and sewing. I was the youngest of five children.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> And the others?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> They were all sacrificed for my sake. They +are hard-working men and women to-day. My parents +died before I achieved independence in my profession. I +should like to help my brothers and sisters, but they refuse +my aid.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Perhaps you don’t offer them enough.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> M. D’Or, they have pride! They feel that +an unfair advantage was given to me—and they are right!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I fail to see it. This was clearly a case of +one rising from the depths, or none at all. If they have +pride, they should take pride in you.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> It has made a permanent breach between us, +I fear.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> And they will feel even more bitter when you +return to Buda-Pesth and ride about in your new automobile?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> [<i>Gloomily.</i>] Yes, I have been thinking of +that. If I could only drive them from my mind!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Yet you look forward to happiness! Is there +no way of making wealth obedient to our desires?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>Putting in his head at central door as before.</i>] +May I bring in Mr. Ramanand?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Certainly—I shall be glad to see him. [<span class='sc'>Cyril</span> +<i>throws the door open and</i> <span class='sc'>Ramanand</span> <i>enters in stately +fashion, garbed in an oriental robe</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Ah! Ramanand, quite dry now? I want +to present you to M. D’Or, the tenant of this palace and +my worthy patron. He has heard of our meeting on the +road.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> [<i>With a profound bow, speaks in a deep, +rich voice.</i>] My salutations and greetings, monsieur. I +am indebted to you for your hospitality.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Won’t you be seated? [<span class='sc'>Ramanand</span> <i>takes a +seat, right</i>, <span class='sc'>Cyril</span> <i>sits on the foot rest</i>.] I trust they made +you comfortable downstairs. Didn’t you suffer in the +storm?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> A slight wetting—no more. I am accustomed +to rough weather. I travel constantly on foot. +It is no hardship for such as I.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Are you familiar with this country?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> No. I am on my way to the West, to +study the civilization of other lands. I have read of them +and their manners; I now seek to know them by actual +experience.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You have doubtless traveled far enough to find +things different?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> Yes, I already feel the mark of the West +in your customs. In the East, all things are deliberate and, +whether right or wrong, rest upon traditions handed down +from the remotest ages. Here you strive for things that +are new and you are ever ready to forget the old.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> But why do you follow such a roving life? Is +there any profit in it? Will you be better off when you +have completed your travels?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> There is much profit in it—I shall enrich +my mind with golden thought—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> But does it enrich your purse with golden coin—that’s +more to the point!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> Money! It is a delusion!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> A delusion?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> [<i>Placidly.</i>] Yes. Has it ever proved +otherwise?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Why, it brings power, the thing best worth +having in life.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> It brings mostly care and sorrow.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Did you ever hear such a philosophy?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Cyril</span>.] Cyril, you recall speaking to me +this evening of a new rifle?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Yes, M. D’Or.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> We shall send to Buda-Pesth to-morrow for +that rifle and when it arrives it is yours.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>Leaping up in pleasure and kissing</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or’s</span> +<i>hand</i>.] Oh! dear M. D’Or, you are like a good magician +in the story-books!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Ramanand</span>.] And the agency of such +happiness as this you call a delusion! Where’s your care +and sorrow?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] You are a ready man with +your proof. No one can deny the momentary exaltation +that follows a gift or a favor, nor do I believe that gratitude +is a forgotten virtue. But look about you, and note +what a curse wealth has brought upon humanity.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> I should not care to entertain the philosophy +of the East.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> Mine is not the philosophy of the East. +We also have the worship of gold among us and its +<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>devotees lead the same blind lives in its pursuit as your +own people. The views I express are my own.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Then you really believe that the poor man is +the happiest man?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> Yes, if he is not possessed by the lust for +gold.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> And the rich man is the unhappiest man?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> Yes, if he is the slave of his own wealth.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Rail against wealth if you will—I maintain +that poverty has nothing to recommend it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> [<i>Reflectively.</i>] I too sought material +wealth as a young man and I gained nothing but care; for +many years I have cherished poverty and my days are +crowned with peace. I ask no better test of my philosophy.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> If you are satisfied, you have reached a state +of mind that neither M. D’Or nor I shall ever experience. +[<span class='sc'>Edith</span> <i>enters, centre</i>; <span class='sc'>Mirsky</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Ramanand</span> <i>rise</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Pardon me—I have come to tell Cyril that +his father is ready to take him back to the lodge.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>Leaping up and running to the window.</i>] +Oh! it is clearing up beautifully—the moon will rise soon. +I suppose I’ll have to go. [<i>He shakes hands.</i>] Good +night, Dr. Mirsky. [<i>He stands abashed before</i> <span class='sc'>Ramanand</span>.] +Good night, Mr. Ramanand.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> [<i>Stroking</i> <span class='sc'>Cyril’s</span> <i>hair as if invoking a +blessing on the boy</i>.] Good night, Cyril.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Good night, M. D’Or. Shall I pray that you +should get better?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Surprised.</i>] Should you pray—why—yes, if +you care to.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> You won’t forget about the new rifle?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> What has the rifle to do with your prayer?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> I think I could pray better if I knew I was +sure to get it. [<span class='sc'>Ramanand</span> <i>shakes his head</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Very well, Cyril, just pray your very best for +me. Good night.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> Good night, Miss Packard. Why don’t you +make M. D’Or get better? That’s what nurses are for.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> The young rascal will be censuring me next +for not having M. D’Or in perfect physical condition. +Run along.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Cyril.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] Good night, everybody. [<i>He +goes off hastily.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.] It is time for your medicine.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> One moment, Miss Packard. We shall discontinue +that medicine; I am not satisfied with our patient’s +response. We shall adopt a new course—no drugs +at all for the next few days.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I am heartily glad of it. I get far more benefit +from your talk, doctor, than from your medicines. Our +little discussion to-night has made me forget myself for +the time. By the way, let us see how Miss Packard feels +about the matter. She will be an unprejudiced judge.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> One whose opinion will be worth having. +[<span class='sc'>Ramanand</span> <i>bows politely</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> We were trying to decide among ourselves +whether wealth is a blessing or a curse. Do you believe +it brings power?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Yes, unquestionably.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Does it bring happiness?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Certainly. Why shouldn’t it bring happiness?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> Does it bring sorrow and misery?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Far too often, I fear.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Are all three of us right in our contentions? +Wealth seems to be rather fickle, Miss Packard, according +to your view.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> It appears a very simple matter to me. The +unattainable always seems attractive; what we possess is +apt to pall after a time. Wealth does not usually bring +power, nor happiness, nor sorrow until its possessor has +taken some initiative in the matter. The owner of the +wealth must in a large measure determine its influence on +his career.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> If you possessed great wealth, would you test +its power to secure for you the things that you might deem +most desirable—social position, for instance?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> I think not. I should prefer to expend it in a +quest of happiness, but it would be a happiness that came +from service—from using the wealth to bring sunshine +and peace into other lives. Perhaps as a nurse I have +come to think differently than many other women—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> More self-sacrificing, I am sure.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> Does Miss Packard believe in the philosophy +of service—that our lives can be counted most +successful when we make ourselves most useful to our +fellow men?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Assuredly. Service seems to me the ideal of +a well-ordered life. I can imagine no finer life than that +of my honored country-woman, Miss Eleanor Richmond—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Springing up.</i>] Eleanor Richmond!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> A noble woman, indeed, a goddess of +charity. I met her in Bombay last year.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> I have heard of her—she organized a relief +committee for the India famine—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Yes, and is devoted heart and soul to the great +cause.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Eleanor Richmond—in India! [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Edith</span>.] +You know her?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Very well. I have been with her at different +times for several years. I was a member of her party that +went into the fever district.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> She—has not married?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> Such a woman needs no family of her +own. All mankind is her family!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> How strange that you should know her. I +always passed over the accounts of India famines in the +papers—such unpleasant reading, such harrowing details.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Think of the heroism of a woman who will +plunge into the midst of such misery and desolation!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> There are parts of India where Miss +Richmond is worshiped as a saint!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> She deserves it. I know of no one who has +made such a splendid use of wealth as she has done. She +has been an inspiration to me at times when I felt weak +and discouraged. [<i>Moonlight shines in at the window.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> The moon has risen; what a glorious light +it sheds into this room. We must be going, M. D’Or, if +we are to reach the village before midnight. We shall +have a well-lighted road, at all events. [<i>He goes to the +window.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>is staring into space</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> I shall have the carriage sent around to the +door. [<i>She goes off, centre.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> Monsieur, I am deeply indebted to you +and to the good doctor for the shelter you have afforded +me, and for your tokens of good will.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Recovering himself.</i>] And to-morrow you +continue your westward march—in search of truth?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> In search of truth, M. D’Or. There is +the most precious wealth that the earth affords. It will +be a long and difficult quest.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I have been searching for truth for many years +and in many lands; to-night I believe I have stumbled +upon it by chance. A few hours ago I was wondering +what new bribe I might offer Death to postpone for a +time the final settling of my account. Now I yearn for +a chance to redeem my past follies, to add a new and more +creditable chapter to my career. You have done me much +good to-night, doctor! I feel better and happier at this +moment than I have been for many years!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> Not too fast! Don’t be in too much of a +hurry to deprive me of so profitable a patient.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Have no fear, doctor—you shall have no occasion +to regret the cure that you wrought here to-night.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mirsky.</span> You are indeed a changed man—I am glad +to see it. Good night, M. D’Or.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Ramanand.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span>.] Good night, monsieur. +[<i>He bows.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Good night! A pleasant ride back to the +village! [<i>They go out, centre.</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>examines the wilted +flowers and laughs softly. He then goes over to the window +and stands in the moonlight. He calls to the others +below.</i>] Good night! Good night! [<i>The sound of carriage +<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>wheels is heard.</i> <span class='sc'>Edith</span> <i>comes in, centre, and looks +at</i> <span class='sc'>D’Or</span> <i>a few moments before speaking</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> You may catch cold at the window—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Turning.</i>] Miss Packard! I did not hear +you enter.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> You are feeling much better?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> I am a new man to-night. Pray tell me, do +you know if Eleanor Richmond is in India now?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> She is on her way to India. She wrote me +from London that she would be at Port Said in a fortnight.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> Port Said! You have a letter from her?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Yes. Do you know her?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> We were very good friends—many years ago, +over in America. It seems so long ago—almost like +another existence.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Would you like to see her letter? It tells of +her plans for the coming year.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> You are very kind—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> I shall fetch the letter; I am sure it will interest +you. [<i>She goes off, right.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>In meditation.</i>] Fifteen years! It seems like +a lifetime! A lifetime of hideous nightmare and delusion. +Fifteen years! [<i>He paces the room.</i> <span class='sc'>Edith</span> <i>returns</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> Here is Miss Richmond’s letter.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Takes the letter to the light and tries to read. +His hand trembles. He speaks in an uncertain voice.</i>] +Won’t you read it for me?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> [<i>Reading.</i>] ‘I am now in London with my +secretary, Mr. Hanson, making final preparations for +another year’s work in the Orient. Mr. Hanson’s wife +and I have been buying great quantities of supplies to be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>shipped to the East. She is a most helpful woman—just +another like’—[<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Softly.</i>] ‘Like yourself.’</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Edith.</span> [<i>Embarrassed, continues.</i>] ‘From all reports +the distress is even greater than before and we shall have +to labor harder than ever to relieve the miseries of those +unfortunate people. How my heart bleeds for them! I +have found many good friends who have contributed generously +to our fund, but the need is so great that we can +never bring adequate relief. We can assist a little here +and there, and instil new courage in those who are partly +able to help themselves, but there is much that we can +never hope to undertake. I wonder that I ever had the +hardihood to attempt this work. Now it has become my +mission in life and it means everything to me. We shall +be at Port Said on the 25th, and shall spend two or three +days there. I wish you could arrange to rejoin me this +year. I recall our days of labor among the poor in New +York and in Chicago. You were so very’—Oh! M. D’Or, +won’t you read the rest?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>D’Or.</span> [<i>Taking the letter.</i>] Too modest to sound +your own praises? <i>[He reads in silence.</i>] Very true, +Miss Packard, what she says of you is indeed true. No +wonder she wants you with her again. [<i>He reads.</i>] +‘The work is a consecration—it has made life very sweet +to me’—[<i>As he goes on</i>, <span class='sc'>Edith</span> <i>silently steals from the +room by the centre door</i>.] ‘What a pleasure it is to bring +the light of joy and gratitude into the eyes of others. In +my devotion to their welfare I have tried to forget an +early sorrow of my own’— [<i>He pauses, overcome with +emotion. He looks up and sees that he is alone. His +<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>hand trembles as he holds the letter near the lamp.</i>] ‘I +hope we may soon meet again—time alone can tell.’ +Time alone can tell! How that phrase brings back that +last evening together in the garden—the legend on the +sun-dial—‘Time will reveal all things.’—[<i>He rises and +stands by the window, glancing over the letter in the +moonlight.</i>] ‘I have tried to forget an early sorrow of +my own’—<i>Tried</i> to forget! Eleanor! [<i>He gazes at the +letter as the curtain slowly falls.</i>]</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span> + <h2 class='c009'>EPILOG</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>[<i>A parlor in the Hotel Orient, Port Said, furnished as +a writing-room for the guests. There is at the right a +table with pens, ink, magazines, railway guides and folders. +At the left a table with writing materials, blotters, +etc. Each table is flanked by two chairs. There are also +several comfortable armchairs and a revolving case with +time-tables and other hotel literature. From the room a +wide central entrance leads through glass doors to a porch +with posted placards. There are exits right and left and +a window on the left beside the door. The sun shines +brightly through this window and also illumines the prospect +from the porch. As the curtain rises</i>, <span class='sc'>Mr. Mathews</span> +<i>enters at the centre and casts a critical eye over the room. +He puts the papers, etc., into order at both tables and +throws several soiled sheets into a wastebasket under the +table on the right.</i> <span class='sc'>Mr. Hanson</span> <i>enters with a large +bundle of letters and goes to the opposite table</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> Good morning, Mr. Hanson. I hope you +slept well.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> Thank you, Mr. Mathews. My first night +in Africa was one of undisturbed repose. What a lovely +morning! Is such weather common in Egypt?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> It is during the season. We often have +fine weather at this time of the year.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> Your hotel seems quite crowded.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> It filled up yesterday after the arrival of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>your steamer. Most of our guests are tourists who are on +their way to Cairo and the Pyramids.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> Have you seen Miss Richmond this morning?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> Yes, she is now at breakfast. What a +charming lady she is!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> One of Heaven’s good angels, I should say. +My wife and I have been associated with her for two +years in her American charities and in this India relief +work. Her soul is wrapped up in it. You should see +how people respond to her appeal for aid. [<i>He reads the +mail as he talks.]</i> One contribution after another. Our +fellow-passengers on the ship raised a fund of one hundred +pounds.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> That reminds me to give you this check +on behalf of the management. [<i>He takes a check from +his wallet.</i>] We desire to show our interest in the cause.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> Thank you very much. I am certain your +kindness will gratify Miss Richmond. [<i>He reads a letter +with an enclosure.</i>] Here’s a curious one! From the +English missionary at Kermeh—‘ten pounds from our +mission for the India relief fund.’ Where is Kermeh?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> It is far up the Nile—at the Third Cataract. +That’s the sort of coöperation that counts; it +shows that Miss Richmond’s noble work is known in the +remotest regions. [<i>He takes out his check book and +writes.</i>] Mr. Hanson, I wish you would add this personal +contribution to that of the management. I want to +help a little.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> You are indeed generous. I wish the world +could realize the nature of the task that Miss Richmond +has undertaken—the feeding of impoverished thousands +<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>is but a small part of it. There are schools and hospitals +to be provided—an effort is being made to raise the whole +country to a better standard of living. The fever must +be stamped out—[<i>Reads.</i>] Twenty pounds—fifty pounds—Heaven +bless them all. [<i>He takes up a telegram.</i>] A +dispatch from Paris. [<i>As he reads it, the paper trembles +in his hand. He starts up with a cry.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> What is the matter?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> [<i>Excitedly.</i>] The matter! It’s too wonderful +to be true. I doubt whether I’m awake! It can’t +be possible—yet here it is, black on white. It’s like a +voice from Heaven answering Miss Richmond’s prayer. +[<i>Hands over the telegram.</i>] Read it, Mr. Mathews.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> [<i>Reads.</i>] ‘The Messrs. Blaustein have +the honor to inform Miss Richmond that securities amounting +to ten million pounds’—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> [<i>Wildly.</i>] It does say ten million? I’m +not dreaming?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> You’re wide awake—it’s ten million. I’m +not familiar with the sum, but I know what the figures +look like. [<i>He resumes reading.</i>] ‘Securities amounting +to ten million pounds have been deposited with them +to form a permanent fund known as the Eleanor Richmond +Fund, the income thereof to be expended in the +interests of Miss Richmond’s great charities throughout +the world. Provision is made that one hundred thousand +pounds shall be immediately available for Miss Richmond’s +relief work in India. The Messrs. Blaustein +regret that they are not at liberty to mention the name of +the donor, who prefers to remain anonymous because he +wishes only one name to be associated with the fund—that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>of Miss Richmond herself.’ Did you ever hear anything +like that before in your life, Mr. Hanson?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> [<i>Almost delirious.</i>] Has there ever been +anything like it before? It is stupendous! How can such +a gift be kept secret! How can any human being give +away ten million pounds without public recognition? Can +you realize what burdens it will lift from Miss Richmond’s +mind? She can now proceed safely with many +noble enterprises which she has long hoped to carry out +when funds were available. How she will rejoice at this +wonderful answer to her prayers!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> [<i>Gravely.</i>] By the way, Mr. Hanson, be +careful in giving her the information. Good news may +cause as severe a shock as bad news. Tell her gradually—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> You’re right. It’s a wonder it didn’t knock +me over—I haven’t had my breakfast yet. I don’t believe +a doctor would recommend hearing such news on an +empty stomach. [<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Robert Dorr</span> <i>at the centre. He +wears a plain sack suit and no jewelry of any sort. He +seems alert and vigorous.</i> <span class='sc'>Hanson</span> <i>continues to read the +mail</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Good morning, Mr. Mathews.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> Good morning, Mr. Dorr. You are an +early riser—the porter told me you went out at five o’clock +for a stroll about the harbor.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I am enjoying the best of health. You must +have observed the improvement in the four days that I +have been here. The climate of Egypt is wonderful—bracing, +invigorating!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> [<i>Drily.</i>] Yes, just now—but wait till +next summer!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I haven’t time to wait. I’ll take your word +for it.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> By the way, Mr. Dorr, you ought to know +Mr. Hanson, secretary to Miss Richmond. Mr. Hanson, +Mr. Dorr. You are both Americans—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> The best of reasons for our knowing each other, +Mr. Hanson. I have heard of Miss Richmond’s splendid +services for India. You have doubtless taken part in that +work?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> Yes. Mrs. Hanson and I have been associated +with Miss Richmond for several years. It has +been a pleasure to help even a little in the great cause, but +I’ve never been so happy as this morning. What do you +think has happened?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I’m sure I never could guess.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> A noble hearted soul has established a fund +of ten million pounds to carry on Miss Richmond’s work.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Ten millions! Who is your Crœsus?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> That’s the most remarkable part of it. He +is as modest as he is magnanimous—he prefers to remain +unknown.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> What does Miss Richmond say?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> She doesn’t know it yet. The dispatch +arrived from Paris this morning.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> It will be the happiest day of her life, I +am sure.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> How long do you remain at Port Said?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> Our steamer leaves day after to-morrow at +ten. That reminds me, I must send off a note at once to +the steamship office. You will pardon me? [<i>He goes to +the table, left, and writes.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> [<i>Beside the table.</i>] Just look at that mail, +Mr. Dorr—contributions coming in from all quarters. +There are many hundred pounds in all, and yet how small +that seems beside those ten millions! How would you +like to be able to give such a donation?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Uncomfortably.</i>] I—I think it would be very +pleasant—I think I’d rather like it!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> I should say so! A man with such generous +impulses should not hide his light—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Interrupting.</i>] Pardon me, Mr. Mathews, +have you a Bradshaw handy?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> [<i>Indicating to the table, right.</i>] You will +find one on that table. [<i>He crosses.</i>] Here it is. [<span class='sc'>Dorr</span> +<i>follows and takes a seat with his back to the others</i>. +<span class='sc'>Mathews</span> <i>turns to the back as if to go out and meets</i> +<span class='sc'>Eleanor Richmond</span>. <i>He comes front with her.</i> <span class='sc'>Dorr</span> +<i>pretends to be reading his Bradshaw</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Good morning, Mr. Mathews. It’s a full +year since I was here. How have you been?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> Very well. I need not ask—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] Always well and busy. Perhaps +I should say always well because I’m busy. What a +lovely sunny morning. You seem to furnish such beautiful +weather whenever I come to your hotel.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> I hope you will enjoy your stay here, Miss +Richmond.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> I always do. I’m sorry it must be such a +short stay, but you know—India is calling and I’m needed +there. [<i>To</i> <span class='sc'>Hanson</span>.] Good morning, Hanson—have +you breakfasted?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> Not yet, Miss Richmond—I’ve been looking +over the mail. The fact is, I’m not at all hungry—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> You’re not getting ill, I hope? You seem +strangely excited about something. Is the fever prevalent +now, Mr. Mathews?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> No, indeed. I don’t think anything serious +is the matter with Mr. Hanson. He is simply suffering +from a slight shock.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> A shock! Why, what has happened?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> You see I was reading the mail—it’s a +goodly batch of letters. Nearly all of them contain donations, +both large and small—I was simply overcome by +their generosity. Here is one from the English mission at +Kermeh in the upper Nile valley. Mr. Mathews has +given me a check on behalf of the management of the +hotel and a personal contribution as well.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Gratefully.</i>] Thank you for your aid. +It is an inspiration to find people everywhere so anxious +to help! [<i>She has taken a seat at the table, left, her back +to</i> <span class='sc'>Dorr</span>. <span class='sc'>Hanson</span> <i>is seated at her side and</i> <span class='sc'>Mathews</span> <i>is +standing</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> [<i>Slowly and seriously.</i>] Miss Richmond, +you know that now and then there is an unusually large +donation announced in the mail. [<i>She nods expectantly +as she looks over the letters.</i>] That happened this morning. +[<i>A pause.</i>] It is the most splendid gift that your +cause has ever received. [<i>She drops the letters and looks +eagerly at</i> <span class='sc'>Hanson</span>.] This is a trust fund, the interest +of which is to be applied to your work. Do not be startled +at the sum—it is very great. You remember last year the +Earl of Shropshire gave—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Ten thousand pounds—a munificent sum! +And you say this is even more?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> [<i>Deliberately.</i>] Conceive the Earl of Shropshire’s +gift multiplied ten fold—a hundred fold—a thousand fold!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Rising from her seat.</i>] Hanson, what do +you mean?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> [<i>Rising.</i>] Miss Richmond, the amount is +ten million pounds. [<i>A pause. She looks from</i> <span class='sc'>Hanson</span> +<i>to</i> <span class='sc'>Mathews</span>. <span class='sc'>Hanson</span> <i>gives her the dispatch. Tense +silence as</i> <span class='sc'>Eleanor</span> <i>reads it</i>. <span class='sc'>Dorr</span> <i>trembles, but does not +look around. The paper shakes in</i> <span class='sc'>Eleanor’s</span> <i>hand</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Faintly.</i>] Ten million pounds—a permanent +fund—one hundred thousand pounds immediately +available! [<i>She sinks into her chair.</i>] Can this be true? +It is like the realization of a fairy-dream. Hanson, I +<i>must</i> know the donor of this enormous fund—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> The dispatch says he prefers to remain +anonymous.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> I must know. His name may be kept secret if +he so desires, but I must see that man and thank him from +the bottom of my heart for the good that he is doing. +His bounty will reap a perpetual harvest—he must see for +himself what his unparalleled generosity will accomplish.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> Shall I write to the Blausteins at Paris, +asking that the donor’s name be communicated to you?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> No—I shall let you have a telegram for +them. I want to know before I leave Port Said. What +a wonderful day this is! You knew of it, Mr. Mathews?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> Mr. Hanson told me just before you came +in. Let me say in all sincerity, it is the kind of support +that your noble work has merited all along.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> It makes me happy past all understanding. +We can achieve real results now—not temporary relief, +but permanent progress. Won’t you get your breakfast, +Hanson? I am forgetting all about you. No wonder +you seemed so excited. I shall telegraph to the Blausteins +at once. [<i>She reaches for a telegram pad and writes.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Hanson.</span> Very well. [<i>He gathers up the mail, leaving +the dispatch from the Blausteins in</i> <span class='sc'>Eleanor’s</span> <i>possession</i>.] +Mr. Mathews, won’t you deposit these remittances +in your safe for the present? [<span class='sc'>Dorr</span> <i>at his table writes +out a check</i>.]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> Certainly. Can I be of further service, +Miss Richmond?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Not now, but I shall call upon you later. +Let me thank you once more for your kindness! I must +get off this dispatch at once.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Mathews.</span> Let me know when I can serve you in any +way. [<i>He goes off, centre, with</i> <span class='sc'>Hanson</span>. <span class='sc'>Eleanor</span>, +<i>when alone at the table, reads the dispatch again, clasps it +to her breast and looks upward in thankfulness. Trying +to compose her own telegram, she once more reads the other +and weeps softly as she does.</i> <span class='sc'>Dorr</span> <i>rises and turns towards +her. She is trying to compose herself to write, but cannot.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Advancing.</i>] Pardon me, Miss Richmond—I +should like to contribute a trifle to your fund. [<i>He +hands her the check.</i>]</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> How good of—[<i>Looks intently at him.</i>] +why—I—[<i>In a whisper.</i>] Bobbie Dorr!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Bobbie Dorr—in Egypt! Oh! what a +surprise! Were you sitting over there reading that Bradshaw? +I took you for an ill-mannered tourist!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> And you recognized me at once—after fifteen +years.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Is it as long as that? Then you must not +mention the fact again. You’ve grown broader and heavier, +Bobbie—you look more sensible, too!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> And you’re just the same charming Eleanor +that you were in the old Lenox days.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> The idea of your saying such a thing! I +just remarked that you seemed more sensible—now I am +inclined to doubt it. What have you been doing all these +years?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Wandering over the face of Europe and learning +many things. I fear you have never forgiven me for +the unceremonious way I cleared out after that dance of +Aunt Martha’s. I sailed from New York a few hours +after that—that last evening we spent together.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> I have never forgotten that evening, Bobbie. +You seemed like a man possessed of some evil spirit. You +remember how you raved about the power of wealth—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I meant it then. My money is practically all +gone now.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> You have run through that great fortune +of your grandfather’s? You have spent it all?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> All but a very little—I couldn’t give you much +of a contribution—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Looking at the check.</i>] How thoughtless +of me! Here I have been holding your check all this +time without even glancing at it. One thousand pounds! +Generous as ever, Bobbie!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I’m sorry it isn’t more—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Examining the signature.</i>] What’s this? +What a strange way of spelling your name!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I’ve been known as M. D’Or ever since I left +America—it was simply a fancy of mine. Now that I’m +through with my money, I shall be plain Bobbie Dorr +hereafter.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> It certainly sounds better, Bobbie—more +like old times. Do you know, I always felt that we +should meet again and that you would tell me truly +whether or not wealth can buy power—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> It cannot, Eleanor, I admit that. I spent my +money foolishly for the most part—that is, until recently, +when I acquired more common sense—but I’m glad I’m +done with it. Now I’m going to ask you a favor.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> What is it, Bobbie?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Won’t you take me along to India?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Take you along to India! Why, this is no +pleasure excursion. It means work—the hardest kind of +work.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Dejectedly.</i>] I know I don’t amount to much, +but I thought I might serve as a second or third assistant +secretary. [<i>Brightening.</i>] I was watching your secretary +this morning. When the mail comes in I might open +the envelopes and hand them over to Mr. Hanson.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> And what then?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Well, I suppose I’d have to look out of the +window until the next mail arrived. But, Eleanor, I’m +serious about this—I’m no longer the frivolous youngster +I was at Lenox.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> We’ve both seen a good bit of life since +then, Bobbie. I became interested in charitable work, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>my labors at home and in India have been crowned with +great success. Did you hear us speak before of the wonderful +good fortune that has just befallen us—the income +of ten million pounds to be annually devoted to our cause? +Isn’t it marvelous! I was just about to write in order to +learn the name of the donor.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I shouldn’t ask the Blausteins about him—they +won’t tell you anyway.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> How did you know it was the Blausteins? +I didn’t mention their name.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Why, I—that is, Mr. Hanson happened to +mention it to Mr. Mathews before you came in.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> And knowing that, you were willing to sit +there in that cold-blooded manner reading your Bradshaw?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I didn’t want to take you by surprise. I wanted +to give you a chance to hear what Mr. Hanson had to +say before I forced my unworthy self on your attention.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> What Mr. Hanson had to say? It seems +to me that you show very little enthusiasm over this wonderful +endowment. I must discover the donor; won’t +you help me?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I don’t see why you bother about him. He’s +probably some eccentric old fellow—he must be a queer +chap to turn over such a sum to a Board of Trustees—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Board of Trustees—[<i>Reading the dispatch.</i>] +The dispatch says nothing about a Board of Trustees!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Doesn’t it? Well, you see, they usually do +such things in that way. I inferred from what Mr. +Hanson said to Mr. Mathews—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Alert.</i>] Bother Mr. Hanson and Mr. +Mathews. [<i>Coming closer.</i>] Bobbie Dorr, tell me the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>truth. You left us fifteen years ago to prove that wealth +was power.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> I know I made myself ridiculous. I believed +then that humanity could be bought and sold like merchandise +over a counter. For a time I succeeded after a +fashion. I know better now. I confess my defeat.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> [<i>Watching him.</i>] What did you do with +that large fortune, Bobbie?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> [<i>Evasively.</i>] It’s all gone—no use crying over +spilled milk. I’m rather poor now, and glad of it. There’s +just enough left to provide for my wants. All the rest +is gone. Why do you look at me so strangely? It’s all +spent—that is, I got rid of it—I had no further use for +it—I—gave it away—I—</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Bobbie! It was you!!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Eleanor, a few moments ago you remarked to +Mr. Hanson that you wanted the donor of that fund to +see what good it would accomplish. Now I—I’m willing +to confess—provided you take me along to India.</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> You have triumphed, after all! Wealth +is power!</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Dorr.</span> Only when such a noble soul as yours dispenses +it. [<i>He takes her hand.</i>] Give me a chance, Eleanor! +May I go along to India?</p> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Eleanor.</span> Yes. [<i>She picks up her half-finished dispatch +to the Blausteins and smilingly they look at it as the curtain +falls.</i>]</p> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c006'> +</div> +<div class='lg-container-l c001'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='xlarge'>Early Reviews of</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='xlarge'>English Poets</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c007'> + <div>EDITED WITH AN INTRODUCTION</div> + <div class='c006'>BY</div> + <div class='c006'><span class='large'>JOHN LOUIS HANEY, Ph.D.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'><strong>The Regular Edition</strong>, bound in red buckram cloth, gold stamped, +with gilt top, uncut, at <strong>$1.20</strong> <i>net</i> (postage 13 cents).</p> + +<p class='c010'><strong>The Library Edition</strong>, printed on superior laid paper, with frontispiece +on Japan paper, bound in green boards with paper labels, gilt +top, uncut, limited to three hundred numbered copies at <strong>$2.00</strong> <i>net</i> +(postage 16 cents).</p> + +<p class='c015'>“It was a happy thought, that of collecting in one handy volume these selected +and important reviews.... It is not merely as a convenience to the student, who +can have here under his hand important documents not otherwise readily accessible, +that we welcome this volume, but as comprising an instructive and significant chapter +in English literature.... The present work is complemented by excellent notes, +and an introduction containing an interesting historical sketch of the English critical +journals.”—<cite>The Nation.</cite></p> + +<p class='c015'>“Dr. John Louis Haney has performed a task of considerable usefulness to students +of literary history.... The introduction is a valuable sketch of English periodical +literature, bringing together many facts for which we should hardly know +where else to look.”—<cite>The Dial.</cite></p> + +<p class='c015'>“An entertaining book, ... Mr. Haney’s book needs neither excuse nor explanation; +it is surprising that such a book has not been written long ago.... +Until the appearance of Mr. Haney’s book the general conception of early British +criticism was a vague, formless thing.... It is an amusing and certainly an edifying +book.”—<span class='sc'>John R. Young</span> in <cite>Chicago Evening Post</cite>.</p> + +<p class='c015'>“An interesting and serviceable survey of the history of English criticism.... +A valuable and entertaining collection.”—<span class='sc'>Dr. Richard Garnett</span> in <cite>The Speaker</cite>.</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div><span class='large'>A BIBLIOGRAPHY</span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='small'>OF</span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>Samuel Taylor Coleridge</span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='large'>JOHN LOUIS HANEY, Ph.D.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c010'>This important bibliography was issued in an edition limited to +three hundred numbered copies, printed from type and bound in boards +with paper labels; also, a large paper (quarto) edition of thirty copies, +numbered and signed, with frontispiece on Japan paper. It enumerates +all editions of Coleridge’s works; his contributions to other works and +periodicals; biographies, and editions of his letters; critical articles, +poetical tributes, portraits, etc.</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><strong>Regular edition (300 copies), $4.00 <i>net</i>, postpaid.</strong></div> + <div class='c006'><strong>Large paper edition (30 copies), $10.00 <i>net</i>, postpaid.</strong></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c015'>“The importance of Mr. Haney’s book may be inferred from the fact that under +the heading ‘Marginalia’ no fewer than three hundred and forty-one items are collected, +as against the seventy odd titles enumerated under that heading in the British +Museum Catalogue—the only other list of marginalia extant. The compiler has aimed +at producing a practical handbook for the literary worker.... In Mr. Haney’s work +we recognize a worthy attempt to grapple with a laborious and somewhat intricate +task, which has never yet been seriously taken in hand on this side of the water.”—<cite>The +Athenæum.</cite></p> + +<p class='c015'>“We do not remember a more comprehensive individual bibliography.... The +items are fully and systematically recorded and described. The notes are valuable, +giving the contents of collected works, facts concerning publication, and many exact +references to contemporary reviews and criticisms of the newly issued works. +This makes the list of special use to students.... If more of Coleridge’s valuable +criticisms can be rescued from their penciled desuetude for publication, Mr. Haney +will have performed a double service by his painstaking and very excellent work.”—<cite>The +Literary Collector.</cite></p> + +<p class='c015'><span lang="fr">“Il n’y a que des éloges à donner à la <cite>Bibliographie de Coleridge</cite> publiée par +M. Haney. Ce volume de luxe deviendra indispensable à tous ceux qui voudront +étudier de près Coleridge.”—<cite>Revue Germanique.</cite></span></p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div><span class='large'>THE NAME OF</span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>William Shakespeare</span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='large'>A STUDY IN ORTHOGRAPHY</span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='small'>BY</span></div> + <div class='c006'><span class='large'>JOHN LOUIS HANEY, Ph.D.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>This extensive study deals with the origin, history and orthography +of the name Shakespeare and discusses the merits of the variant spellings. +It has received the cordial endorsement of the leading students +of Shakespeare in England and America.</p> + +<p class='c010'>Seven hundred and fifty numbered copies, printed from type and +bound in blue-ribbed cloth, stamped in gold.</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><strong>$1.00 <i>net</i>. (Postage 6 cents.)</strong></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c015'>“Accept my hearty thanks for your book on <cite>The Name of William Shakespeare</cite>, +which I have read with much interest and edification. It is complete and exhaustive, +and ought to be ‘the final word’ on the subject—Your book ought to go into all the +college and other leading libraries, and into the hands of all critical students of +Shakespeare. I should doubt whether your limited edition would supply the natural +demand for it.”—<span class='sc'>Dr. William J. Rolfe.</span></p> + +<p class='c015'>“A fair, complete and clear exposition of the subject. So far as we have observed, +it takes account of every scrap of evidence available—Externally, the volume +is a model of good taste; type, page and binding are alike excellent. We regret that +the edition should have been limited to seven hundred and fifty copies.”—<cite>The +Nation.</cite></p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='large'>THE EGERTON PRESS</span></div> + <div><span class='sc'>934 North Eleventh Street</span>      PHILADELPHIA</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c006'> +</div> +<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> + +<div class='chapter ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + + <ul class='ul_1 c007'> + <li>Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + </li> + </ul> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77765 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57i (with regex) on 2026-01-03 00:12:10 GMT --> +</html> diff --git a/77765-h/images/cover.jpg b/77765-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..593359b --- /dev/null +++ b/77765-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/77765-h/images/titlepage.jpg b/77765-h/images/titlepage.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc5cd5f --- /dev/null +++ b/77765-h/images/titlepage.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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